#custard's masterlist

[the-friendly-entity]

[ ~"Creeme Public meets the human"~ ] - Cookie Run

You are a Human who found the Earthbread! Meeting cookies all around! how do the cookies react to seeing a human in their kingdom?

Part 1 | Part 2

What contains? Very long post, Odyssey Chapter Spoilers(?, Very Deep Topics, Metion of kill and dead

Can be visualized as? Friendship Relation Ship (stableshed to the last two Parts), Cookies meeting you!

Sinse you adventure arround the Earthbread, Cookies are start to get comfortable arround you, Mostly the Cookies who live in the Custard Cookie III Kingdom, Others who as been accept you due the Aprovals of the Acient Cookies, as you progress being arround the cookies helping them and conviven with them, slowly they start to not be afreid of you, rather love to be with you!

Of corse due this your preces is well know by now by the cookies of all the kingdoms, talking about you most of the time, all this voices slowly go to other parts of the Earthbread more far away, arriving to the Cremee Public

It was not normal a Human convived with Cookies, the last thing regristed appart of the Witchers was the Wizards who was the only close human thing who treat Cookies as equals, but was for decades ago until they desapear

Due you unexpected arrival of the Cookies earth, this caugth the attencion of one specific group of cookies, The Council of Heroes

It was just matter of the time the Council hear about you due the cookies who spear the voice to the Creeme Public, they could not belive about a human in they world, but this rumors as been souding more and more, related to Acients and Gingerbrave itself, making less hard to belive it just make out or Fake

They worries soon has start to been discusted about you, why are you here? what you want? and what was you real intencion? this was one of the only chance to investagate about the humans/Witchers an understand more behind Cookie History Itself

And soon a letter from the Council arrive at the Custard Cookie III Kingdom, Surprising your Cookie friends due was writed for you

GingerBrave Cookie: "Dear Witcher, we invite you to our Republic to meet face to face and knowing more about you, this invitacion will be and purely with pacifist intencions, if you accept, we will make sure to make a place so we can talk comfortable without cause any troble, Sinsery the Council", Why they want to Meet [Y/N] Out of knowere?

-Gingerbrave says confused, due he dint talk to anyone from the Council to even tell about your existence-

Wizard Cookie: It very Obvius GingerBrave, They alredy hear about [Y/N] becuse of the adventure we have to meet the rest of the kingdoms and the acient cookies! [Y/N] Is in the radar of everyone cookies and everyone wants to know what REALLY [Y/N] is

Strawberry Cookie: Oh no, does that mean [Y/N] is in troble? but dint do anything bad to be call, does they want to hurt or do something bad to [Y/N]?

Custard Cookie III: Even if they try to do something with [Y/N], [Y/N] is under MY Kingdom protecion, if something happen to [Y/N] they have to deal with me!

-Custard Cookie III says a little angry and annoyed, after all you showed nothing but kindness and someone who there to help others, you win your place in Custard Coookie III Kingdom and as a reward you under his protecion-

As yourself you dint know what to think or say, you was worried all over again, what they want to do to you, does they want to hurt you? so many questions for you and the Cookies, but no much idea what to do

With this unknow circustances, letters as been send to the Acients to try to seek for anserws, the Acients dint like the Council start to intevied with all this situacion, mostly knowing they could do unmoral things to archive what they want or what they want to know

Due the circustances and knowing a "No" as a responde of the invitacion could cause problematic things in the future from part of the Council, they decide to the better decicion is accepting the invitacion, and mostly guard you to keep you safe and to keep eyes of what happen in the Republic

They never expect to have to deal with you sooner...or well, way sooner of they thougth, but they know you dint nothing wrong, you just attrack to many unwanted eyes, something start to also worried the Acients....

As with your small boat start to go to the cremet public with your cookie friends and acients on board, you head was full of questions, it was the same was with the acients yes but at the same time not, becuse the aceints was with you, feeling this was something way more heavy as was, wondering what happen once you arrive? the least you want is cause chaos or a drama, more and more thoughst was fully your mind was starting to hurt

Dark Cacao Cookie: I can see you worries Human, but think will not help your situacion, we wil make sure to keep everything in ease or for the woerse keep you protected

-Dark Cacao has noticed you expression of worried, something that caught you off guard due was focus in your thoguths-

Golden Cheese Cookie: Yea, what ever these guys want from you i will not let just take you for what ever they want

Pure Vanilla Cookie: What ever happens, you are safe with us [Y/N], we gonna make sure nothing bad happen to you

Thanks of the words of the acients, you feel a little better, what ever happens is right you not alone in this, just hoping things go out well..

After a long journy to the Creme Republic, you was surprised to find this huge city, you was expecting to be like the acients kingdoms, but this was other level, the place so white and clean and the water feel so clean so diferente of cand-ish water you was starting to get use to it

The firts one to "greeting" all of you was Capitan Carviar Cookie, who was waiting near the waters to scool you all where the concil is going to see you, he mostly was annoyed, he dint belive in the rumors, was too crazy to be real, a Witch in the cookie kingdom? it was too ridicolus, but the Council was too worried to be true he just follow them, so was a absotluly surprised seeing the rumors was true

even so, he let his surprised aside and soon you and the cookies was near, gides you where the Council is, a place was a little far away of the city, alredy your big size let the cokies of all the leves of the republic see you, was a little of panic and fear from all the cookies for this "giant monster", but the paladins make sure to keep everyone calm and go back of what they doing

Once there, it was justa improvise place the Council made to meet you, of corse was full of paladins, ready to charge the firts order was giving but a little away so not to scared you or treathing you

The Council itself was well, surprised, confused, and shoked and worried, they expected you was big, but not this big, seeing they faces of unconfrtable of you, not a big surrpsied...

Clotted Cream Cookie: welcome to the Creme Republic! i most apologuies for this aproche, we dint expect to meet you this way but due all the cookies was talking about you we wanted to meet you as soon as posible

-Clotted Cream Cookie was the firts one to spoke, even he show surrpised from your exitence he never show sing of unconfrotable or disgust from you-

Mulled Juice Cookie: so this is the witch everyone is talking about, i must confest, im impressed..

-says Mulled Juice Cookie, examinating you up and down with such interest, after all you just a alive legend it was only spook in books and old writings-

Sablé Cookie: i was expecting you know, the hat...the cat or crows...and a diferente style clothes

-remarks, as she see your clothes very....unapealing, unstilish, and to be true, is the only clothes you was wearing and cleaning all the time-

Capitan Caviar Cookie: i thougth you all was lose your mind when talk about the Witch, but now is insane its true, its just make it worse that it is

-Captian Caviar coment it with a rough voice, alredy his expression show nothing but unfriendly, seeing you as a danger itself-

For other hand Financier Cookie even dont show much her expression, she was full of worries inside, you was huge, and how you look it was clear it will be hard to put you down, but anything to keep Clotted Cream Cookie save even if have to risk her life

Vanilla Sugar Cookie: I Aaagreed! this Witch being in the Cookie Kingdom its dangerous!, We should put them down before do something horrendous to all our sweet cookies!

-fastly accusing, not really waiting to keep you being arround anylonger just becuse you here-

Custard Cookie: agreed as well! your exitence is such danger to all cookie kind and kingdoms as equal, god knows what you ploting to do with each one of us!

-Joining to the Accusecions, as the situacion soon being more and more intense-

Oyster Cookie: Can you guys calm yourselfs? the Witch just arrive and alredy want to put them down, not even give the chance to let them talk, this is unprofesional for the Council itself

-Says Oyster Cookie visible annoyed and disapointed of how this is taking from the cookies of the Council-

for you part, you just looking down sad, this is what you expected to happen, they just want you gone and seeing you as a danger, you hold yourself for not to cry to not cause more drama in this tense situacion

Gingerbrave Cookie: Uh..can you guys stop saying Witch to [Y/N]? they dont like to be call like that, you guys can call them as....human? is [Y/N] is ok with that!

-Gingerbrave Cookie looks at you for a confirmation, giving a nob to him, is better that just called witch-

Vanilla Sugar Cookie: Human!? and why we should call them like that!? is a Witch!

Wizard Cookie: Well..tenecly no, [Y/N] doesnt know nothing about magic, nor even do something, and has it proivide to perform any magic

Dark Cacao Cookie: if you guys stop whining about, what you guys want from the human? why the invitacion as i see you guys want nothing but kill them

Custard Cookie: as far im awared, we dint invited you, only the Witch to come to our republic

Hollyberry Cookie: yes yes, we awared we not part of this boring invitacion, but as you guys has to know as well, [Y/N] is under the acient responsability, so we cant just let some cookies do whatever they want with them

Golden Cheese Cookie: You hear that, we cant just let them alone knowing you guys are unpredicted of what gonna do

Clotted Cream Cookie: i must apologuies for our behavor, this is the firts time we deal with something like this, please forgive us such way and if can understand us

-Clotted Cream Cookie look at the acients cookies and you, mostly noticed you are sad and unconfortable with all this happening, wanted to at least cheer you up a little-

Vanilla Sugar Cookie: Mhp! well then, if the Human is under the Acients Responsability, why is not DEAD? why are letting this human being arround the cookies knowing could be such DANGER to our kind!

Pure Vanilla Cookie: We awared of everyones worried and concer, we are too when we meet [Y/N] as well, but as provide to us is nothing but a sweet human, there to help others and dont want to cause danger to anyone! helping cookies of the kingdom with simple needs and much much more!

Espresso Cookie: Mhm, we see it in our firts hand, we dint trust at firts and keep our distance, but as more days as passed, the human call [Y/N] as show us be nothing but not a dangerous treath, at last, just a cry baby

Madeline Cookie: Indeed! [Y/N] is a sweet sweet human! is always there for the cookies who need help! always liseng to my wonderfull stories! and always admiring my aparence hohoho!

Custard Cookie: you put to much trust to that human, you dont see can easly fool you all! just pretending to be nice as long can to earn everyone trust to strike when have the chance to doom us all! how foolish can you guys be!?

Dark Cacao Cookie: we are awared of that posibility, we are not blinded of the human is pretending to have the chance to attack us, that why is awared if anything suspicus do, will be put that down, that right?

-Dark Cacao Cookie looks at you for you confirmation, you nod at him, you still remember his warnings and in your insides promise to not disapoint him, after all you dont want to cause hurt to anyone-

Oyster Cookie: as how we are sure to acomplish such thing? is the witch, not to judge the streight of the acients, but i dont think it wil be easy to simplity put them down

-You look confused Oyster Cookie, you dont see yourself hard to be kill, more when knowing cookies can do magic it just a piece of cake, Oyster Cookie just look you back confused as well becuse of your exprresion-

Capitan Caviar Cookie: i Agreed, i fight with huge sea monsters before, but this is out of my own level i ever been

Pure Vanilla Cookie: if ever happens we have to put down [Y/N] with the help of White lilly we can put them down, or at least retain them until we decide to do with them

Clotted Cream Cookie: about White Lilly Cookie, if im alowed to say this, where is she?

-You just put a hurtfull expression, you still remember so vivid White lily expression, that horroble expression of horror and pain and agony-

Pure Vanilla Cookie: she....could not be here with us, but she count as well for anything related with [Y/N]

the Council look at each other, thinking all this information and what to do, is confusing situacion had to afront, difente buts and what ifs put on the table, what to proceed and what will be the best if everyone agreeds

Mulled Juice Cookie: well, let the human be arround, we have a alive legend arrounds us, why not give the chance?

Vanilla Sugar Cookie: EXCUSE ME!? ARE YOU LOSE YOUR MIND!

Clotted Cream Cookie: i agreed with Mulled Juice Cookie, the Acients alredy is taking care of the human situacion and ready to take actions if antyhing ocurrs, even so, we have a army of palidins with magic pearls can help to put the human down, if happen the case

Oyster Cookie: We can observe as well if this human is good as want to show, can also do task to provide they trust and good intencions if really want the effort to be

Clotted Cream Cookie: and we can investigate as well the Human, after all we dont know much about the humans appart of the old writings we have, this is our good only chance to understan better the humans kinds

Dark Cacao Cookie: of corse you did have to say that....

-Dark Cacao Cookie looks angry at Clotted Cream Cookie as alredy expected to say something like that, while Vanilla Sugar Cookie and Custard Cookie dont agreed of the idea have you arround among us-

Sablé Cookie: well, i will not denied i abostluly curous to understand such creature

Pure Vanilla Cookie: We alowed you investigate about [Y/N] but we not tolerate if you do something to [Y/N] is againts any morals, or will be taking actions as well

Expresso Cookie: If im alowed, i will be very honored to take the investigation of the human, i did my own investigation just observing the human behavor in the kingdom, i will of corse, follow the morals and no cause anything againts it the desires

Clotted Cream Cookie: Look like we arrive to a conclucion it benefids everyone, to make sure, everyone agreeds to this last desicion?

-The concul nods in agreedment, even Vanilla Sugar Cookie and Custard Cookie but mostly becuse not have much choice due they out of numbers-

Oyster Cookie: before we finish, please human, there something you want to tell us here the concil?

You look surrpised, you get use to it others talk for you and keep quiet, so this was very diferent, now having the attencion of all cookies, Acients and Cookie friends as well, you take a deep breath, and decide to spooke

"I...[Y/N] i promise to show my trust to all cookie kind, to show i not here for any bad intencion what so ever, if i had to pay for the prise of my actions, i will without any resistance to be take my head off"

All cookies present was shoked, was not expected shut shoked words would you say, understanding you ok to take the responsibility to be put down if you do something is againts the morals

Clotted Cream Cookie: very well, i think this will be all for today, thank you for accept our invitacion, and i aploguies of how things as turn out, we hope our next time we see faces be less like happen today

The Acient cookies are glad this is finally over and things dint go out of hand, You too are glad this is over, you really just go back to the kingdom and rest from this tension, as Gingerbrave cookie celebrates everything utnr out well

The comeback home was at least better, Gingerbrave, Wizard and the Aceints helping you feel better after shut tense situacion, just hoping things in the furute be more brighter and be now becarefull, now that cookies eyes on you

For Espresso Cookie, now he have a huge investigation to do about your kind, he of corse will not rush things and take slow the investigation and not do nothing will make you unconfortable

And Madelin Cookie is sad could not meet his family, he would love to show you arround the Creme Republic and be in his sweet home, he know his family will love you not matter what you are

in the end, even if things go a little heavy, everything turn out ok

Mille-feuille Cookie: Our Gold.....is finally here

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Strawberry Shortcake

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!baker!reader

♥ synopsis: your mother owned a bakery in australia and oscar, your childhood best friend was your favorite regular until he had to move away for his racing career. you've since become head chef and people are beginning to wonder where or who oscar got his impeccable baking skills from.

♥ smau + written - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and suggestive jokes !!!

♥ a/n: literal tooth rotting fluff

-Australia, 2024-

liked by user26, user7, user14, and 18,302 more

y/n.pastries getting ready for spring with some new cupcakes <3

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user14 looks yummy 😋

yoursister do I get a family discount?

yourusername no 🥰

user7 face card is insane

user21 looks good! i’ll stop by and pick up some things soon 😊

user25 you’re gorgeous

user23 your cupcakes never miss

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Webs Most Searched Questions-

"Is Lando Norris..." he peeled off the thin white strip. "Related to Chuck Norris?"

"Yes," Lando jokingly admitted, gazing straight into the camera as Oscar tossed the card aside.

The team walked up to the two men and handed Lando another card of questions to ask his teammate.

"Does Oscar Piastri... really like pastries? I dunno, do you Oscar?"

"I do like pastries," Oscar nodded. "I like making them more, though."

"You know how to bake?" Lando questioned.

"An old friend taught me." he admitted.

"You’ll have to bring some treats in for the team one day, then."

"Maybe one day I will. Cupcakes are my specialty."

"Oh are they?" Lando raised a brow. "I'm gonna need some proof of that."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by landonorris, mclarenracingf1, logansargeant, and 1,482,053 more

oscarpiastri made some cupcakes for the team like i promised

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user2 oh he cooked 😮‍💨

user1 the piping >>>

user3 i’m not surprised that he’s good at piping

user7 he can pipe me any day

user10 OSCAR CAN THROW DOWN

user6 no bc why do those look so good

landonorris i expect you to bring these every day now

user4 now whom exactly did he learn this from

user8 flavor?

oscarpiastri vanilla cupcake with buttercream, some with a lemon custard filling and some without for varied pallets

user9 get this man on a baking show asap

user11 and then Oscar opened a cupcake shop and him and Charles did a Collab birthday cake ice cream

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Your Bakery, March 12-

The golden bell on your bakery’s door chimed late in the afternoon as you swept, getting ready for closing.

Your back was facing the entrance as you spoke up, “Perfect timing. I was just about to lock the door. What can I get for ya?”

“A strawberry shortcake.”

You spun around, recognizing the man’s voice instantly.

It was Oscar.

You hadn’t seen him in about a decade, but you still occasionally took time to follow his racing. You were hoping that one day he’d find his way back to you.

“Hi,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

“Hi.”

“It’s been a while.”

“It has,” he responded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You reached down to grab the small cake from the cold display case, “You know, your mum reached out to me.”

“She did? What’d she say?”

“Just how she wants us to reconnect and all. She visits me pretty often.”

Oscar hummed, as you set the cake on the counter.

“…To-go?” you asked.

He shook his head no, “Would you like to sit down with me?”

You nodded, plating the treat and walking out from behind the check out. You locked the door and he grabbed two small pink forks, handing one to you as you took a seat across from him.

“My mum, she would uhm…” he stabbed the utensil into the cake. “At every race she got to see in person she’d bring me a pastry from here. She’d make sure to tell me it was made by you and how your business was doing and all. I always performed better when she brought me them, too. It was always nice to know a piece of you was with me everywhere I went.“

You practically melted at the confession.

“That’s really sweet,” you dragged the tongs of your fork through some of the icing.

“I see that you’ve made a name for yourself in the Formula 1 baking community.” you both laughed.

“I had a great teacher.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, both taking bites from the cake.

“I’m sorry i didn’t visit sooner,” Oscar apologized.

“I’m just glad you’re here now.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 23,847 more

y/n.pastries race weekend

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oscarpiastri ferrari cookies really?

y/n.pastries i’m making mclaren ones too relax

charles_leclerc @/oscarpiastri is that any way to treat your father’s team?

user4 spectacular give me 14 more of em right now

user6 take my money 💳

landonorris so THIS is who taught @/oscarpiastri how to cook 🔥

y/n.pastries perhaps

user3 guys she’s so pretty

user1 @/nicolepiastri what’s the lore here

user8 obsesseddd

user10 hear me out she should sell these at the melbourne circuit

user7 this !!!

liked by oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 100,583 more

nicolepiastri it was about time you two reconnected

tagged; @/oscarpiastri @/y/n.pastries

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oscarpiastri mummm

y/n.pastries 😅

landonorris what's up with that second picture

oscarpiastri no comment

user7 the amount of times i've seen f1 drivers dressed as nintendo characters is uncanny

user4 paul aaron and dino core

user1 AWWWW

user8 this is so cute

logansargeant @/oscarpiastri how come i’ve never heard of this? don't tell me you fumbled this bad

oscarpiastri 😐

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Australian Grand Prix-

At your bakery Oscar insisted that you attend this year’s Australian Grand Prix. You finally got the privilege of meeting so many amazing people such as Leo the famous paddock puppy and none other than Oscar’s best friend, Logan.

You stood in the Mclaren garage with Oscar’s parents as the team prepped for the race. You brought some cookies for Lando to which he complained that he wouldn’t be able to eat them until after the podium ceremony.

-

The two made their way back to you a few hours later, Lando in p3 and Oscar in p4. Lando snatched the tin of cookies from your hands.

“You know you’re supposed to share that?” you said as he took a seat, devouring the treats, but he just waved you off.

You gave Oscar a hug and he pulled you off to the side.

“So I was thinking… maybe I could take you on a proper date tomorrow?

You smiled, “That sounds great.”

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, georgerussell63, and 1,394,623 more

oscarpiastri morning

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user1 you don’t have to soft launch we all know you’re with y/n

user2 there’s only one person who can make those croissants and it’s y/n

user5 the third picture 😨

user3 she’s so lucky 😭

user4 @/yourusername how does it feel to live MY dream?

georgerussell63 @/alex_albon who takes all the shirtless pictures now

alexalbon still you mate

-F1 Winter Break-

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, f1, and 1,492,053 more

y/n.pastries I am very pleased to announce three new limited additions to the bakery’s menu! Carlos Sainz’ pancakes, Yuki Tsunoda’s Fruit Sando, and the LEC Vanillove ice cream sandwich.

The fans have been dying to try my boyfriend Oscar’s (basic) vanilla buttercream cupcakes, so I’ll be keeping them as a year round pastry.

It has been an honor to work with the four of you <3

tagged; @/carlossainz55 @/yukitsunoda0511 @/charles_leclefc @/oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri im so proud of you ❤️

y/n.pastries i love you osc

oscarpiastri i love you too

oscarpiastri also my signature cupcake is not “basic”

y/n.pastries whatever you say 😉

user1 guys yuki is slowly starting to accomplish his restaurant dreams

pierregasly no creds?

y/n.pastries for?

pierregasly helping yuki

y/n.pastries yea… no

pierregasly helping charles?

y/n.pastries 😐

user2 yukierre and piarles are so back

user7 the childhood friends to lovers is melting my heart 😩

user8 theyre so adorable it makes me physically ill

user3 i’m pretty sure nicole is jumping up and down right now

oscarpiastri oh don’t worry she is

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

PLAYING FAVOURITES. [PART TWO]

tangerine x fem!reader

wc. 2628 summary. continuing on from FAVOURITISM (this can be read as a standalone, but would recommend reading part 1 first) you and your boss's work relationship deviates from professional, each of your repressed feelings beginning to get in the way. a wordless admission entails, the act confirming the liking each of you have. boss x secretary. warnings. slightly suggestive, idiots in love (kinda) disclaimer. the images at the bottom are just a reference of how I picture the reader's vibe and style. they are not a reflection of how I write or see yn (colour and body type) it’s merely a way to show you what I envisioned <3

SERIES MASTERLIST

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Late mornings, you’d often find yourself in the staff room, watching over the bubbling kettle as you wait for it to finish boiling. And now, like many other points during the day, you’re leaning against the counter — hip resting against the worktop, waiting for the flick of the kettle’s switch.

You reach for the appliance and slowly pour the water into your boss's favourite fine china set, making the tea to his very specific liking. Following the steps that he had ingrained into you over the several months you’ve worked for him. You slot two custard creams onto the saucer, setting the biscuits beside the cup before heading towards his office. 

You’re mindful as you walk across the office floor, eyes fixed in a heavy focus on the fragile crockery in your hands. Being ever so careful with something so dear to him. The tea sloshes slightly with each slow and calculated step, the click of your heels accompanying every delayed movement. You reach your boss’s door and give it a light couple taps, being aware how the motion may affect the stability of your hold.

“Yeah?” he calls out, voice preoccupied, like he was busy.

Entering his room quietly so as not to disturb him, you spot him at his desk, phone wedged between cheek and shoulder, hand on the mouse with his attention on the computer screen. His focus differs when he notices you in his door frame, a soft, courteous smile being sent your way.

Though the grin is short lived. A frustrated voice on the receiving end of his phone growing louder, more frustrated. The tone of the caller dissecting that small slither of calm you just gave him. Tangerine sighs, soothing over his moustache as he slumps back in his chair, humming along with the conversation as if to keep the call short with your company present.

“Mhm-hm, catch you in a bit,” he grumbles and places his phone down, irritation evident with the force. “Sorry, darl,” he apologies, turning his attention to you still in his door frame. “You can come in,” he gently reminds you with a chuckle, gesturing you inside.

“Call sounded important— didn’t want to get in the way,” you smile and shake your head. “Anyway, thought you could do with a tea break,” you look at the clock on his wall, speaking like he was an infant with regular feedings.

“You know me too well,” he nods you along, clearing a space between his papers. 

He watches over you, noticing your obvious caution with something so fragile — your precious hold being careful with something he loves.

“Perhaps,” you smile to yourself, gaze focused on your footing, unaware of his looks. You reach his desk and set it in front of him, stepping aside to leave him be. 

“I uhh— I don't suppose you have a few minutes,” he starts, twisting in his chair to keep you in his sight. “Computer’s playing up. Been a right nightmare,” he says, bringing the cup to his mouth to take a sip. “Top notch tea, that.”

You twist on your heels and nod with a smile, heading back to his desk. Standing at his side, your thigh presses into his arm, the contact of your touch noticeable to you both, obvious to you both, though neither one of you wants to shy away from it. You reach past him and for the mouse where his hand sits beside, brushing past him ever so slightly. 

Though he doesn’t flinch or retract his hand, instead he keeps it there, letting it be an obstacle that you have no choice but to graze. Your gaze lowers to his hand, eyes diverting from his screen to look at the closeness of your hands, how they’re almost touching. His thumb fidgets subtly, as if he’s hesitant — eager to reach for your pinky finger.

His eyes, too, fall on the display of your hands in front, the difference in size filling his mind with things no boss should ever think about one of his employees. And as if he’s suddenly remembered his position of power, he regrettably slides his hand away, reaching for the tea so you should feel no such rejection for the act. 

You’d admit that it stung, but that would mean admitting you had feelings for your boss, and you were far too smart to allow yourself for that to happen. So to dust yourself off and refocus, you have a look around on his computer, trying to locate the same issue he’s been having all week. Though today, it seems the issue is different to the prior ones.

You start to bend, initiating a new seated position on your knees, but he stops you, placing down his tea as he goes to stand.

“Have my seat,” he instructs, standing behind his chair as he slides it to you — offering it up.

“Am I allowed?” 

“Course you are,” he dismisses your weary, polite question with a laugh. “Doing me a favour here, can’t have you sitting on the floor.”

“Imagine how bad that’ll look to the higher ups, huh?” you joke. “Letting your secretaries get on their knees while you just sit there.”

Tangerine picks up on the accidental innuendo almost instantly, a diversion of his eyes and a tinge of warmth in his cheeks making that all the more evident. It takes you a second to realise what you’ve said and your eyes widen at the connection, mouth opening slightly like you’re embarrassed. 

“For helping with work,” you add hurriedly, shaking your head as you sit in the chair. “The computer, I mean.”

With your back now to him, you take a moment to collect yourself, head dropping slightly from the sheer humiliation you were feeling. You exhale quickly and turn back to look at him, sending him an apologetic look. 

“I really didn’t mean that— I didn’t even realise what I was saying,” you continue with your apologies, fearing you’ve made the situation all the more uncomfortable.

Though it’s anything but. Instead he quite liked seeing you open up to him, joke and chat with him — the worry-wall of scrutiny slowly dissipating around you. And when he sees you sitting in front, eyes peering over your shoulder and up at him, he knew he was far deeper in the shit than he realised. 

He clears his throat, trying to rid himself from the impure, lewd thoughts running rampant in his mind. He shakes his head singularly at you, hand hesitantly reaching for your shoulder, but instead, he backs out at the last second, finding himself pointing at the computer.

“Let’s get that sorted out, yeah?” he prompts, adjusting your focus to an actual issue. The direction like a distraction, wanting to shake the embarrassment from you without making a deal about it. 

You nod and twist to look at the screen again, pushing your focus to the task assigned to you. But as you get to work, flicking through his computer, you notice the fix is not as simple as the others from this week — the complications advancing from the usual randomly —purposefully—misplaced and deleted files to something far more complex.

Your eyes narrow at the screen, and your back straightens in a slight lean forward, trying to understand it all. 

“I have no idea what you’ve done,” you mutter in pure concentration, chin resting on knuckles with your other hand on the mouse. “This is such a mess,” you briefly look at him still behind you. “Like, such a mess. It’s gonna take a while.”

“I got time,” he tightens his features, stiffening his expression. Trying not to seem so joyous about an ordeal he should be irritated by. “Not a problem for you, is it?” 

“Not at all.”

He picks up the biscuits from the small plate and casually offers you one, hand held out towards you. You skim his skin as you take it, thumb brushing his for a short, quick moment.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks, eager to keep you comfortable in his space.

“No, I’m good thanks,” you pause and take a bite of the treat changing your mind upon further thought. “Actually, yes please,” you start, speaking through a mouthful. “My glasses? Under my desk I have two bags. In the smaller one— I think it's on the right. Anyway, in there I have a pouch and the case is tucked in one of the pockets. And then my glasses are inside.”

He nods, a subtle smile finding itself spreading on his face. 

“Shall I get you the world’s nuke codes while I’m at it?” he jokes, heading for the door.

You follow his movements, watching him over the top of the computer. “Nah, I don’t need them right now, but I could do with a drink though,” you laugh, making him halt for a brief moment. “My bottle is in the other bag— a big metal thing with charms. You’ll see it right away.”

He’s quick to return and you’re sure he’s forgotten the directions, the quick pace making you doubt him. But instead, he pulls out your bags from behind his back, features forced in a plain, casual expression.

“Thought it’d be easier to bring all your things,” he offers, making his way to your side, tucking your belongings next to you. “Get you set up in here for the day while you fix that mess,” he gestures to the computer and resumes his original position behind you. 

With him unable to see your face, you smile. You smile wide. The thought of him seeming to enjoy and want your company makes those butterflies flutter a little wilder inside. That pit of want slowly growing deeper. The edges of it starting to crumble inwards.

Again, with the reminder of status and power, you dismiss the thoughts and twist in the chair,  leaning over to search through your bag on the floor so you could resume work.

Completely unbeknownst to you, Tangerine’s height advantage gave him exactly that — an advantage. His depraved eyes trail down your back from behind, lowering to the slither of skin between flowy blouse and trousers, the tights he bought for you all those weeks ago visible over the top of the waistband. The hosiery a secret to you and you only, a way of maintaining your flamboyance without getting in trouble for it. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, gaze unable to leave the sight without a forceful action. His hands drop from the crossed position over his chest to his front, hands acting as a shield between his legs. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly got him so bothered about the sight, and he found himself struggling to find the reasoning why. Perhaps it was something about the contact, how something he touched so tightly is now, too, tightly touching you. Maybe it was the position or the unintentional, suggestive eyes you’d give him throughout all hours of the day. Either way, whatever it was, he was struggling. 

And through his drifting mind, he’s unaware of you now facing him, hand waving sweetly to capture his attention. 

“Sorry,” he clears his throat in his fist, lending you his focus.

“You good?” you ask, utterly oblivious to the effect you play on him. “I can do this some other time if you’d like?”

“No,” he shakes his head, the motion stern like it was reaffirming his decline. “I was just thinking about lunch,” he lies, checking the time on his watch. “Getting hungry,” a partial lie — only his hunger cannot be satiated with food. “I can get something for you too?”

“I brought something with me from home, but thank you,” you notice a hint of defeated rejection in his eyes, the dismissal of his offer seeming to please you more than it should. “But maybe I can sit in here while I eat?”

“That’ll be nice,” he nods, trying his best to remain neutral. “How’s it looking?” he questions and points to the screen, changing the subject built on a lie.

“Uhm, it’s coming along I think,” you too, lie, pretending the errors were still an issue, when in fact they were not. The problem fixed and sorted a couple minutes ago. “Might be another hour at least, maybe two. Just doing some tests,” you continue with your ruse, lying to keep yourself in his company. 

“That’s alright,” he hums, watching you swirl back around in his chair, getting back to work.

It was as if you were truly unaware of your power: big brains, a heart so pure and eyes that could trick him to do anything. He would find someone with those qualities intimidating, but instead he found himself finding it endearing, exciting even.

And like he’s suddenly had enough of talking himself from his wants, he decides to indulge in them, just this once. He rests his hands either side of you from above, palms flat to the desk to tower over you from behind. Inners of his biceps skimming at your shoulders.

The position close, like a confinement you much rather enjoyed. You swallow thick, struggling to even your breathing.

“Maybe I do play favourites,” he admits, his voice a whisper behind your ear. “Little bit of partiality in the workplace.”

He moves a hand from its placement on the table and places it on the back of the chair, pushing it to make you swivel to face him. 

It’s close, far closer than you’ve ever been to him before — the tips of your noses almost touching.

“I know you’ve thought about this too,” he prompts, tone gentle as he practically speaks against your lips.

All you can do is nod slowly, seeming to be frozen in place with no ability to speak. Quite like you were in a haze, stumped it had finally got to this point.

“How long you been thinking about it?” he teases, itching forward to graze your lips, only to pull away — wanting to hear your answer first.

You inhale raggedly. “Since I started,” you admit, getting closer to make up for the distance he made.

“So have I.”

The hand that was on the back of your chair reaches towards you, palm grazing the base of your throat until it's sitting on the side of it, lightly holding your neck. With him regaining control, he guides you inwards, pressing his lips to yours.

At first it’s precautionary, gentle even, the kiss soft and light as if to check measures.  But when you each pull away, eyes flickering over the other quickly, it’s fast to be rekindled. The intensity growing as if all of the stolen glances and forbidden thoughts and accidental touches have finally caught up to you both. Upping the antics.

A knock at the door breaks the moment far shorter than either one of you would like, the hasty pace of the tapping indicating something urgent. 

You pull away and he sighs, the exhale frustrated. Tangerine stands straight and adjusts himself, making his way to the door.

“What?” he says, voice stern, one of your colleagues stood in front of his door — an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Been a problem with dispatch, sir.”

“Right,” he nods and shuts the door in the face of his employee.

Tangerine heads towards you to collect his things, picking up his briefcase and coat from its placement. Your eyes never seem to break from their lusty fix on him, an indecent, fervent fixation as they follow him around the room.

“I won’t be long,” he assures, walking towards you. He leans over slightly, thumb and forefinger cupping your chin, angling your face to meet him. “Don’t you go anywhere, okay?” he instructs, punctuating his soft command with a rough response. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[ PART THREE ]

[willowed-wisp]

könig as a dad [ könig ]

part two | part three

- Past the age of 35, he thinks he is too old to have a kid and he’d never meet anyone to have a kid with

- He gave up on that hope a long time ago… until you walked into his life

- No matter how you meet him, you have the conversation about kids pretty early on (you brought it up)

- He said, “My work stopped me… and I never met the right person…”

- “Do you think I’m the right person?”

- “You’re the ONLY one I’ve let in…”

- You decided to see what happened with no protection- you’d been tested and he was despite the lack of experience.

- He didn’t know how he’d react to you coming to bed that night, facing up at the ceiling beside him, “I’m pregnant,” König just turns to you. His large palm on your stomach, smiling at you.

- König doesn’t change during your pregnancy, you still have sex frequently and he remained calm and collected.

- You guys buy an actual house, you can afford it on his wage alone. Outside of the city, four bedrooms (you wondered how many kids he was going to want).

- But he shocks you when he says he’s been working on a project, and a crib is fully built from hand. He’d been working on it for a while.

- He’s also into decorating the nursery- had a fond love for wallpapering a gorgeous woodland print on the accent wall.

- König even corresponds the block painting with an shade from the wallpaper (he’s partial to a faded green)

- He is kid proofing things when he needed to for another year- the baby wasn’t even born yet.

- This man helps you indulge your food cravings- whether it’s fish fingers and custard or fries and ice cream. He’s going to the local store and providing.

- Every scan you have, he’s with you and is intimidating the staff unintentionally.

- You don’t know if he’s holding your hand constantly for or to help subdue that itching feeling that he needs to get out of the building.

- He’s framing the ultrasounds, each and every one of them. And he realises very quickly that he’s glad he met you or else he’d never have that experience

- Upset when he misses an appointment with you because of work duties.

- He’s never gone for too long, not as much as when you started dating.

- He never thought he’d consider retiring from KorTac but realised he needed to provide- despite having quite a lot in savings, he doesn’t spend a lot.

- Assures he’s there for labour, he doesn’t know how he’s gonna guarantee it but does. He’d never leave you in such a vulnerable situation on your own.

- I think with most of the COD guys, he’s definitely a girl dad. Being protective.

- Having a son may scare him, he doesn’t think he’s a very good role model. Ashamed of himself, no matter the reassurance you give him.

- That fear dissipates meeting his son, it was like looking a mini version of himself.

- This is when the healing starts for König, he adores your son and you remind him that it’s literally half of him.

- The anxiety is still prevalent but it lessened as time goes on.

- Imagine seeing this 6’10” ripped guy with a baby carrier strapped to his chest with his child in the carrier… that’s the image you see everyday when König goes on walks.

- It’s the only way your son stops crying.

- König hand makes baby food, even is partial to gardening and growing organic fruit and veg for his son. Unlike anything you’ve ever seen him like.

- You don’t even realise you’re pregnant again- periods not returning to normal from being pregnant.

- Your hubby isn’t phased, “Another member of our little army…” You cackled, quietly trembling in fear but König knows you’ve got this.

————

Does anybody want a part 2? Thanks for reading xx

————

masterlist

[strwberrybils]

Hi! I’m not sure if your requests are open, but if so, I have a cute, fluffy idea.

Billie x Black!reader with Billie researching and learning how to take care of and do her daughter’s hair. She’s watching tutorials, reading articles, and trying things out on fake mannequin heads. Maybe you could include a 5 + 1 scenario where Billie tries and fails to do a hairstyle on her daughter’s hair, and finally, there’s one time when she’s successful.

the four times billie tried to do your daughter's hair, and the one she succeeded

contents. mom!wife!billie eilish 𝑥 mom!wife!black reader. fluff/slice of life. one swear.

masterlist ‧₊˚ taglist

gabi's quick thoughts. so i realized right before i posted this that you wanted 5 and i only have 4, im sorry :( but i hope you still like it + this prompt is so adorable gahh. thank you for the request !!

1. the first time

billie’s standing in the middle of the bathroom with five products in her hands, yet she hasn’t a single clue what any of them are for.

curl custard. leave-in. detangler spray. oil. cream?

she vaguely remembers you telling her something about the lco method— liquid first, followed by cream and oil. but you also said that it depended on hair porosity, which she didn’t even know was a thing to begin with.

her brow furrows. “baby,” she calls, not for your daughter, celeste, but for you, voice echoing down the hallway like a white flag, “what order does all this go in again?”

you peek in the doorway with a smile and no real intention of helping. billie had insisted on learning how to do your daughter’s hair, only asking you to help her when needed, and you knew that this was just another opportunity for her learn. “read the labels, honey.”

“i did read the labels,” she grumbles, holding up one bottle like it personally betrayed her. “they all say to use them together. it’s not saying anything about an order.”

she ends up putting too much gel and not enough leave-in, and your daughter’s little coils are crunchy for the rest of the day, which, she had a little fit about layer.

but billie tries, and that’s really all that you could ask for— and celeste still says “thank you, mama,” with a lisp and a toothless grin, and that’s enough to make billie want to try again.

2. the mannequin

you catch her late at night in the kitchen, way past everyone’s bedtime.

you had initially gotten up for a glass of water when you found billie sitting at the island, focus written all over her visage. she’s got a bald-headed practice mannequin clamped to the table like a hostage, a spray bottle in one hand and her phone propped up with a youtube tutorial playing on mute with the subtitles on.

the mannequin has about half a head of synthetic hair sewn into a crooked part, and it looks like it’s been through war— which makes you laugh. the braids were bumpy and rough, but still, you cracked a smile at her efforts.

“you alright?” you ask, trying not to laugh.

“don’t,” she says without turning around, braiding and unraveling the same three pieces over and over again, frustrated. “don’t make fun of me, i’m learning.”

“who told you to buy a fake head?”

“reddit did. since you won’t let me practice on you.” she huffs.

you can’t stop the laugh this time. you’re careful not to wake your daughter up, but it was kind of hilarious that you woke up in the middle of the night to find your wife playing in some mannequin’s head. she glares at you, and the mannequin loses another braid in protest.

3. the ‘puff incident’

“i just wanted to do the two cute puffs,” billie sighs at you, “the ones you always put her in for school. that’s not even that hard— and i still can’t do the shit.”

“swear jar!”

“sorry.” billie grumbles underneath her breath.

celeste is sitting on the floor in front of her, arms crossed and eyes teary from all the tugging. the part is zigzagged and the puffs are lopsided and one of the elastics popped off like a rubber band under pressure, which had really set your wife off.

“you said ‘easy’ in the video,” billie grumbles, replaying the tutorial for the third time, “this is far from it.”

you kneel beside them, smoothing your baby’s curls with gentle fingers. “yeah— easy if you’ve been doing hair since you were twelve,” you murmur. “not if you just started last month. it’s a process to learn.”

“i’m trying to get it right,” she says, quieter now, “i just don’t wanna mess it up.”

you kiss her cheek and help her redo the puffs together. her fingers follow yours, slowly, steadily, make sure to pay attention to every little detail.

4. wash day

billie severely underestimated how long wash day is.

before she started attempting to do your daughters hair, she didn’t really ask that many questions. she was interested, but she often just let you have your time on those saturday’s that you spent doing your own hair.

but now, things were different.

she’s got celeste in the tub with conditioner slathered in thick and a wide-tooth comb in hand, but her arm is cramping by the third section and there’s still a whole back half to go.

“this is actually just child labor,” she sighs, more to herself than anyone, and your daughter giggles like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard.

she doesn’t get all the tangles, and you have to step in halfway through, but it doesn’t matter. she’s learning. she’s present. and your daughter won’t stop telling her how “everything’s perfect, mama, you made it perfect.”

billie looks exhausted but proud of her contribution, and she feels even more secure when you give her an affirming kiss on the cheek.

the one where she succeeded.

it’s saturday now. billie took her time doing the twists the night before, watched three different videos on how to coil properly, and even made sure that your daughter wore a bonnet in solidarity.

the sun’s peeking through the windows and the house is slow and quiet, just morning cartoons and cereal crunches, per usual.

billie’s in the living room with your daughter between her legs, detangling with care, sectioning with clips, and using the right amount of leave-in this time. she parts with a steady hand. twists gently. oils the scalp. seals the ends, all like you taught her weeks prior.

you walk by and pause in the hallway to watch them, peeking out behind the door. your daughter’s humming to herself, and billie’s tongue is sticking out a little in concentration, eyes half focused on whatever is playing on the tv.

she undid the twists and fluffed them out with a wide-toothed comb, then sealed it with a bit of biotin oil she had found underneath your cabinet.

after she was done, celeste got up to go look in the mirror, and she gasped, which made billie a little anxious until she exclaimed, “i love it, it’s so pretty!”

billie exhales like she’s been holding her breath all month.

you peek out from your spot and make your way over to your wife, wrapping your arms around her waist from behind and kiss her neck, and she melts a little into you.

“you did it,” you whisper, “i told you that you could.”

“finally,” she breathes out in relief, “i just… i wanted to get it right. for her. for you.”

you squeeze her tighter.

“you always do.”

₊⊹ taglist: @47lake | @hopingforgoodblogs | @zendayasredbottoms | @chrissv4mp | @mseilishmwah | @justtr | @lovelyy-moonlight | @bilsdillldough | @billiesrighthand | @karaaeilish | @billiesbabygirll | @hrts4billieeilish | @drunkinyourbenz | @amara-eilish | @profoundcoffeepeanut | @billsbabydoll | @bilssturns | @lovxlyvee | @stargirl-mayaa | @emilyshortcake | @enchantingesme | @alexawhatstheweathertoday | @dyinbymistake | @ash198458 | @astrcmoni | @diceroll65 | @thefeverburningalive | @bxllxebxtch | @slxtarchive | @zbeaa | @youmademefeel | @billiesguitar | @kittluzbills | @bitchesbrokenpromises

[kaivenom]

Hi! Can i ask a one piece headcanons with the dilfs where the reader is extremely clumsy with k*nifes or Weapons in general and almost get stabbed everytime? I dreamt of this and it was so funny

The One Piece Dilfs with a reader who is clumsy with weapons HCS

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: OMG this week people are going crazy with requests for these amazing men. I hope you like it

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

When he discovered, he started to put his sword on his cover everytime he is at home or nearby.

Pretty much thinks is a divine sign to start to get careful with his sword, he is the best swordsman but the universe wants to remind him that he is also human and needs to be careful with his loved ones.

His knife/weapon room is closed with key, since the day he found you admiring his knifes and dropping all the shelves and cutted yourself.

He thought you were going to die, luckily no knife got actually stabed on your guts.

He is always watching you when you go outside, to the point when he is about to fight someone he just takes a moment to stop everything and ask you to step out.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He loves it and makes a good experiment from it.

Since you are his partner he wont let you get stabbed but he likes to test from afar, how bad its your clumsyness.

One time he put knifes all over the bedroom floor, and you cutted your feet a little.

That prank experiment was a little to much that even his team told him to not repeated again.

When you are siting on his lap, he tents to play with knifes, sometimes asking you if you want to try.

He obliges you to use plastic kitchen knifes, its a little humiliating but thats the proof that he cares about you.

Sr. Crocodile

He is obliged to out a rubber top on his hook or leave the hook on the clóset everytime he gets home.

Once you tripped and almost got impaled on his hook.

He is a calm men but that time, he thought he was having a heart attack, everytime he remembers it he starts to get cold sweats.

He likes to carry you, so when he needs to move you safely he just throws you over his back.

You always have a guard or a Minion to watch you with especific orders or not letting you alone with nithing Sharp.

Smoker

Suposing you are both marines he panics always and a lot when he sees you on the base or around the ship.

He tried to convince you to leave the field work and take an office job, if you said yes, problem solved.

If not, expect him to not ket you touch anything Sharp. Example: you are taking a sword for a raid and he goes from behind and straight gets the things out of your hands without discussion.

Sometimes people laugh about how he looks like a cat owner that is yelling at his for breaking something.

You sometimes think he is being to rough or strict but the rest of the crew knows that when you leave him alone he just breaks like a custard.

Akagami Shanks

Doesn't let you go on raids or battle or even the armory.

He would laugh about It because "you are eating such a powerful men and being such a mess" but the moment something shiny gets near you, he panics.

Everyone has know a cover for the sword or weapon, you even felt bad about obliging them to have this measure that you bought ones yourself.

They didn't like It to much but Shanks warned them about not making you more sad.

He follows you around like a puppy or makes someone follow you, but without you knowing. He knows you try to be independent and he is proud of you, but he also know that you are a mess.

[websterss]

LOVEBUG — COLE WALTER

REQUEST: Can I do a request for Cole Walter where he and the reader are about to sleep together for the first but she figures that he just will hook up with her and go back to Erin. But he actually has feelings for her and he found out it is her first time ever so he makes sure to tell her that he actually has feelings for her. (Some mature content if you’re cool with that)😏

WARNING(S): Angst, fluff, only indication of smut at the end, no actual smut.

WORD COUNT: 2,804

PAIRING: Cole Walter x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! Also, I don't do taglists any more guys!

MASTERLIST

If there was one thing you couldn’t let go of it was trying and not being able to have a conversation with Cole. You found it difficult since he had been avoiding you like the plague. He’d brush past your shoulder in the halls, and if you locked eyes in public he was already walking the other way. Your friendship has been one for the history books. A long-lasting friendship since elementary, but you wondered when and if your bond was soon to expire. You wanted to keep trying though because trying meant you wouldn’t have to lose Cole for good. 

You had had your doubts the second Katherine had invited you to attend Haley and Will’s wedding. Your doubts clouded your mind as you felt your presence and attendance would cause a great deal of stress or frustration for Cole. Seeing as how he didn’t want to talk to you, you did your best to stay far away, sit far, but even then you watched as he left in the middle of the dancing. Heading towards the barn. You had wished you had gone after him sooner, but you waited, waited till everyone was asleep. Anxiety was all you felt as you faced his workshop shed. The light was on indicating that he was in there but if it hadn’t been for the banging and clanging of tools against metal you would have assumed otherwise. It was only one foot after the other. You thought to yourself. Some part of you told you to run and turn, but he was alone and in his element, this would have to be your only time to get your chance. You had to be brave, and strong, but you were not at the moment so you went head first, heart second. You had opened the door and made your way inside. You complicated whether to make your presence known but it ended up being one hesitant knock followed by two certain ones. You had barely made your way into the area before his voice made you halt in your tracks. 

“Didn’t expect you to be hanging around still. It’s late, shouldn't you be on your way home by now?” 

“H-How’d you know it was me?” You gape at him like a fish out of water, not having expected him to speak first. 

“You’re the only person I know that knocks after walking into a room.” He continued to twist a bolt. “Plus you do things in threes.”

You gaped at him. “No, I don’t.” 

You watched as he turned his eyes towards you, a shit-eating grin on his eyes as he leaned to his left. His hand curls into a fist as he reenacts your entrance. Tapping against the metal for effect.

One… two three. 

“Three times.” He smirked, raising his left brow. You wanted to slap him then and there. 

“Didn’t peg you as the type to pay attention to things like that?” 

“Like what? Like how you scrunch your nose and close your eyes when the sun is in your face, and continue to have a conversation like that. Or how you like to listen instead of speaking when you’re in a group. It's just how observant you are. Or how you do things like knock three times after entering a room.” He chuckles, pointing and mocking where you entered. “Or how you don’t ask or expect anything from anyone because you feel like you’re being a burden. Which you’re not. Or how you go out of your way to help others so much, even though some people don’t deserve to be blessed by your kindness. Or how you prefer bikes to cars cause it means you're helping out the planet a little bit more. Or how you prefer Custard instead of Murphy now because when we were younger Alex said you’d be fine riding him…but then you fell off and you got hurt, and it took a long time to get you to trust us again, and get you back on a saddle. Or… how you’ve been nothing but sweet to me when all I’ve done is treat you like shit.” He slams the hood of his truck down causing you to flinch. Regret fills him instantly. “Or…how you hate loud noises because it reminds you of all the yelling that happens at home.” If your heart could stop you’d have collapsed dead on the floor before him. But it hadn’t, it only skipped and increased in speed because you never thought he'd be so attentive to you. 

“Still don’t peg me as the type to pay attention to things now?” He opened his arms out and gave a tight-lipped grin. 

“What happened to us?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He brushes past you like he’s done so time after time again. He walked over to his work table looking for a torque wrench knowing the one he needed was over by the truck in his toolbox. He just couldn’t face you right now. 

“Cole…will you look at me, please? I’ve been trying to talk to you for months now and-“

“Have you seen my torque wrench anywhere I can’t find it?” He cut you off. 

“Cole, I’m serious, if you’d just give me a second-“

“Can we not do this tonight? I need to work on the truck okay? It needed more work after it broke down on me and Jackie the other day and I’d appreciate it if you-“

“Can you just look at me for once, dammit!” You walk over and bang your fist on the hood and flinch. You see his side profile first before his body follows, he raises a brow at you unimpressed. 

“On my truck.” He gestures to where your fist rests. 

“I have been trying and trying for so long now to get your attention. To talk to you.” You run your hands down your face. “Because I miss you…” You gesture an open hand to him. “I miss my best friend. I miss wanting to know how your day is going or if your knee has been hurting, but I can’t do those things because you don’t give me the time of day.” 

“I’ve been busy…” He shrugs. 

“Busy right? Yeah, I know what you've been up to.” You close your eyes. “Look Cole, I don’t know if I’ve done anything to make you want to avoid me but if I have then I’m sorry.” You let your head hang forward. “I don’t know what to do anymore…” You hear him before you feel his hands touch your skin gently. In a soft gentle caress, you can’t help but lean into his palm. “I’m sorry…” 

“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I’ve been a jerk okay…I've been a shit friend and an even shit brother, but I’m working on it. I am. Things will be different. Okay, if my speech was anything to go off of, I meant every second of it. Meeting your person…When I met you, nothing, nothing else mattered to me. I should’ve realized it sooner too but when do I pay attention to you.” He joked slightly, causing you to roll your eyes. “I should've held you closer because as my mother likes to remind me constantly. You’re good for me, to me, and way out of my league…” Cole laughed lightly. “I guess what I’m trying to get at is I’m sorry…for everything. I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven for the way I’ve treated you.” 

“You don’t.” Cole retreats his hands from your face. Accepting that as your final word. He’d have walked off with a nod if you hadn’t given him the sweet smile he loves seeing on you. “It’s a good thing I forgave you two days ago then..” 

“Wait what?” 

“Thanks for fixing my bike by the way.” 

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did you know about that?” 

“I had to take Luna to the vet since she got out the night before, she came back with a limp, but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, your mom and I chatted and she assumed we were on good terms again and asked if you had given me my bike back yet. It didn't take long to put two and two together. That and I’ve been missing my bike for a week now.”

“Can’t trust her now.” He joked. 

“When did you even take it?” You shook your head.

“When did you start asking people for rides again?” He raised a brow at you but laughed as you went to playfully smack him for he was the reason for your lack of transportation. “I was driving the boys home from school when I saw you one day kneeling beside your bike. I wasn’t spying by the way, I just happened to see you in all your damsel ness…” He dragged out the s. 

“Right…” You squint your eyes at him in amusement. 

“I figured it could’ve been the chain since you complained about it falling out one time, so it was either that or the tires finally gave out because let’s face it, sweetheart, that thing was ancient.” He started walking backwards with a smirk. “It was supposed to be a surprise but I guess now is as good of a time as any.” He grabbed a hold of the sheet that covered it and yanked it off.

Your heart did stop then and there. You gasped quietly as a cherry red bike was presented before you. Cole rolled it over in front of you before pulling down the support lever. Though it had been the basket with a pink bow on it that caught your attention. It was beautiful.

“You fixed it.” You reached a hand out to touch it but left it hanging mid-air. Too scared to ruin it. Break it. “And…painted it?” You raised a confused brow at him.

“No. I got you a new one.” He grinned sheepishly as you looked up at him in shock. “The basket was a personal touch I added to it though. I thought you could use something to carry your backpack and books, and the flowers you deliver on Wednesdays. You’ve always carried your bag on your back so I thought this could help take that heavy weight off your shoulders.” 

“Cole…T-This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you…” His heart swelled as you flashed him a smile. You looked back to the bike…thinking he must’ve spent his paycheck on it. You couldn’t believe he’d done such a thing for you. 

“You’re welcome bug.” He nodded. “You deserve something nice. Plus your old bike was on its last limb. That and I thought it’d be good for me to get some exercise in. Work the leg out some more ya know. Believe it or not, I don’t remember the last time I ever rode a bike.” He chuckled. 

"Bug...You haven't called me that in a long time."

"It's my name for you..."

"Yeah, I know it is..." You mutter softly. You thought about the name for a second before your brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait if you got me a new one…What did you do with the old bike?”

“Ah thought you’d never ask. I fixed it.” He jogged back over to the corner. Rolling over the old rusted red one out. He swung a leg over the seat. “Thought you can use the company on Wednesdays.” 

“Keep me company huh?” 

“Yeah, I think it’s time I find a new hobby.” 

“Sulking bored you out.” 

“Among other things…” He shrugs. “I want things to be different.” He cleared his throat and held your gaze. 

“I’m happy for you Cole.” You nodded. 

“Anyway…Let’s test this bad boy.” He pedaled out a few feet then you both watched and heard as the clank of the chain fell out. It lay on the floor. You looked up in time to meet his gaze. You had to cover your mouth to keep you from laughing. 

“Thought you said you fixed it.”

“Yeah…The chain won’t stay. So expect a lot of stopping when we go out on them.” He gave a sheepish grin. 

“You took the old one.” You stated. Turning back to your new one with a new sense of warmth and longing. 

“You were due for a new one. No way I could keep letting you ride this thing. I mean, look at it!” He judged the rusted two-wheeler. 

“Hey don’t make fun. She held out for as long as she could.” 

His eyes flickered onto you, lingering on your eyes a little longer before he let his eyes roam to your heels, up to where your dress ended, then his eyes raked back up to your pouty lips. The accidental double entendre wasn’t lost on him. You had held out for him as long as you could too and he’d been nothing but an ass. 

“Yeah, she sure did…” He nodded slightly. You hold his gaze for a bit longer then look away. 

“For what it's worth. I appreciate you doing this for me.” You grew closer to him, a timid stance as you fiddled with your already chipping nail paint. “I don’t think I can show you just how thankful I am, but all I got is this.” You exhaled, then leaned over to press a kiss against the side of his cheek. Cole closed his eyes wanting the touch of your lips to linger on him a bit longer. You pulled away the slightest, your eyes flickering down to his lips before you averted your gaze. Cole’s chest rose and fell at the sudden change in the atmosphere. He often wondered what your lips pressed against his felt like. Thoughts and questions he probably shouldn’t have had like what did you taste like? What noises he could get out of you. He was hungry for your touch, and he wasn’t about to ruin the opportunity to do the one thing he longed for. 

You watched as he stood up from the bike, letting it lean on the support bar. You took a step back as he closed the distance between you two. His hand reached up to find its place again against your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” Your breath hitched at his words. “Let me know if you’d like me to stop.”

“Okay…” You had closed your eyes shut as you waited for him to lean in. It was the barely-there brush of his lips that had you gasping for air. It was the effect he had on you. When he was sure you wouldn’t pull away from him, he slid his hand underneath your jaw holding you there as he walked you both to his work table. The wood had met you back as he knelt to pick you up. Your hands slid over and into his locks. Tugging him closer to you as he stood in between your thighs. 

“Say the word…” He pulled away from your lips kissing down your jaw, onto your neck. “And I’ll stop.” He breathed out as he took note of each sigh of contentment you let out. 

“D-Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You lifted his chin to have him look at you once more. You curled a hand into his hair and crashed your lips onto his.

“I won’t stop then.” He pecked your lips, pulling back in a teasing manner. You grabbed both sides of his face to press your mouths together, having enough of his playfulness. You just wanted him then and there. You knew you were in for a long evening hearing him unzip his slacks. His belt buckle following next.

“P-Promise this isn’t just a one-time thing. That this won’t be like Erin or any of the other girls you’ve been with. That you won’t leave after this. This is my first time after all.”

“Is that what’s worrying you?” He leaned in and pecked your lips sweetly. 

“Would you be upset if it was?”

“No. Thank you for being open and honest about your concerns to me. But I promise you this time it's different, with you it’s different. I feel something when I’m with you, and I don’t want to find out what my life will be like if you aren’t in it any time soon, but as long as you’re game. I’m in this for the long run.”

“I thought Cole Walter didn’t do relationships…” Cole knew you were only kidding by the teasing in your tone.

“Yeah well that Cole didn’t know what love felt like until he met you.”

“You love me?” You grin feeling that warmth spread over your heart once more. 

“I love you.” He nodded certainly.

[bunny-jpeg]

bunny's bakery orders - masterlist

updated: 08-17-24

hey, this is an attempt to make a masterlist of my works, i'm starting with my bakery series (since it is a smaller body of work)! these will be updated as more requests get filled! please note that all the works are smutty in content, so please read warnings and tags!

if you love these orders, feel free to read the submission post and order your own! i love the ones i've received so far and i can't wait to work on them! so please, submit all you want!

order up!

❀ call of duty ❀

phillip graves: berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + champagne (sugar daddy situation)

simon 'ghost' riley: chocolate chip cookies ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + bubble tea (daddy kink)

könig: croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + crepe ("pretty girl.") + mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + champagne (sugar daddy)

john price: mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + mocha coffee (breeding kink)

simon 'ghost' riley: s'more ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + chocolate milk (tenderness) + champagne (sugar daddy au)

john price: s'mores ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + milkshakes (size kink)

simon 'ghost' riley: pound cake with strawberries ("you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again.") + bubble tea (daddy kink)

❀ formula one ❀

max verstappen: mill-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + vodka shot (rough sex)

max verstappen: banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

lando norris: vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + tea (semi-public/public sex)

lando norris: mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

lando norris: carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + custard tarts ("i've never done this before.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + espresso shot (dirty talking)

carlos sainz jr: banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + coffee (rivals) + vodka shot (rough sex)

fernando alonso: blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink)

carlos sainz jr: mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + coffee (rivals) + shot of vodka (rough sex)

oscar piastri: berry trifle ('wrong, try again') + coffee (rivals)

lando norris: blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

max verstappen: apple pie ("now be good and beg. thank you.") + coffee (rivals au) + on the house/vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?")

lestappen: butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + coffee (rivals au) + on the house (aftercare

lewis hamilton: lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + coffee (rivals)

lando norris: butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + milkshake (size kink)

max verstappen: nanaimo bar ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + bubble tea (daddy kink)

max verstappen: scones ("but what if they see us!") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

carlos sainz jr: sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + pine colada (pregnancy) + hard lemonade (possessive behavior)

toto wolff: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + champagne (sugar daddy au)

max verstappen: sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + coffee (rivals au)

daniel ricciardo: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + pina colada (pregnancy)

lewis hamilton: croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + root beer (filming/recording) + on the house (choice:size kink)

max verstappen: profiteroles: ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + champagne (sugar daddy au)

alex albon: mille-feuille ("that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.") + tiramisu ("my little slut to ruin.") + coffee (rivals) + glass of water (aftercare)

oscar piastri: crepe ("pretty girl") + mocha coffee (breeding kink)

max verstappen: profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + hard lemonade (possessive behavior)

lance stroll: lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + coffee (rivals au)

max verstappen: banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

carlos sainz jr: carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + shot of vodka (rough sex)

lando norris: tiramisu ("my little slut to ruin") + champagne (sugar daddy au)

logan sargeant: banana and chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + on the house (choice: mafia au)

max verstappen: french toast ("you're trying to make me jealous!") + vodka (rough sex) + martini (mafia au)

lewis hamilton: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + s'mores ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?) + on the house: champagne (sugar daddy au)

max verstappen: lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.) + root beer (filming/recording) + iced tea (accidentally launching relationship)

lewis hamilton: blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + crepe ("pretty girl.") + on the house: juice (cockwarming)

lando norris: brownies ("you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours.") + martini (mafia au)

lando norris: sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + martini (mafia au)

carlos sainz jr: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + espresso shot (dirty talking)

kimi rakkionen: berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + s'more ("the accent gets to you. doesn't it?") + root beer (filming/recording)

max verstappen: cinnamon rolls ("no one needs to know.") + tea (semi-public sex) + coffee (rivals au)

jenson button: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + whisky (degrading language)

oscar piastri: milkshake (size kink)

max verstappen: scones ("but what if they see us!) + juice (cockwarming)

toto wolff: banana and chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + whisky (degrading language)

charles leclerc: profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + martini (mafia au) + juice (cockwarming)

lewis hamilton: churros ("if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?") + martini (mafia au) + glass of water (aftercare)

toto wolff: croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + vodka shot (rough sex)

daniel ricciardo: blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + espresso shot (dirty talking) + vodka shot (rough sex)

oscar piastri: blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + milkshake (size kink)

max verstappen: vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) + root beer (filming/recording)

max verstappen: nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + martini (mafia au) + glass of water (aftercare)

carlos sainz jr: chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + root beer (filming/recording)

toto wolff: vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + bubble tea (daddy kink) + milkshake (size kink)

fernando alonso: croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + champagne (sugar daddy au)

charles leclerc: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + on the house: coconut water (alternate universe - university au)

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi, I absolutely loved your headcanons for Bucky (agree 100% with everything you said), but I'm a sucker for Frank Castle... so can I ask for rum with him? 💙

Frank Castle Headcanons.

warnings - sexual content.

so glad you agreed with my bucky headcanons, my love!! here are some for our Frank. <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

- I think if you give him time, Frank would thrive on domesticity. Making you breakfast, doing the laundry, grocery shopping. He'd settle into an easy life so easy if he let himself.

- He wouldn't want any more kids. Not even sure if he'd want to remarry. Being a father and being a husband are roles that are associated with so much pain, for him. He'd be more than happy being your partner, though. You don't need a marriage certificate to prove your devotion to each other.

- Big sweet tooth. Loves candy, cookies, popsicles, pastries. Loves anything with chocolate on/in it. Loves ice cream, loves frozen yogurt, loves frozen custard. He's a secret sugar fiend.

- He's always the big spoon. Loves to wrap himself around you, tangle your legs together, snake his arms around your middle as tight as he can.

- The man is a walking radiator. A breathing space heater. He runs so hot. Always puts your feet under his thighs on the couch to warm them up. Smothers your hands in his when you're in public, especially if it's cold.

and now for the sexy stuff...

- There's one word for this man in bed. Shameless.

- His dirty talk is enough to get you off. He doesn't even have to touch you. He's got this low, rough, buttery tone, and he's filthy. Says the most unhinged shit. Makes you blush and stutter and hide your face in your hands.

- Loooves missionary. He thrives on watching your expressions, the way your eyes flutter shut, the look on your face when your mouth drops open.

- I think Frank likes to be a little possessive, but not in a toxic way. More in a you're-mine-and-i'm-yours kind of way. Lots of atta girl and my good fucking girl and that's it, there's my baby.

- Big fan of when you get a little rough with him. Likes the edge, thrives on the pain. Slap him, scratch him, bite him, choke him. He's into it.

- Can be soft with you, if you want it that way. Slow, smooth thrusts, covers you in kisses, strokes your hair back from your face. Plasters his body to yours, not an inch of space between you.

- Tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He knows you know. He just wants to make sure.

in conclusion... he might be a little rough around the edges, but that man would devote his life to you. no questions. <3

as always, feel free to agree/disagree/expand on these!! let me know if you have any thoughts about any of these headcanons, or if you have any of your own. <3

[the-friendly-entity]

[ ~"A New Face"~ ] - Cookie Run

You are a Human who found the Earthbread! Meeting cookies all around! how do the cookies react to seeing a human in their kingdom?

In all the Cookie run fanfics I read the reader is a cookie, it makes sense but i am always curious how it will be if was well a normal human, things will get very interesting!

Part 2

What contains? None, Sfw

Can be visualized as? None, Cookies meeting you!

GingerBrave

-Oh poor little guy! already will be panicking seeing you near the kingdom! already have a bad experience with the witches

-but dont get it wrong! brave is in the name and will definitely try to stop you before even getting near the kingdom or trying to hurt someone, at least try to get the other cookies sometime to hide and run away!

-Seeing you dont fight back and you are visibly confused (and even scared) makes GingerBrave confused as well, and will start to ask a lot of questions

-of course, he will be more confused seeing you do not know anything about the witches (due he referring to you as "the witcher" and thinking you were going to eat the cookies) and even surprised seeing you asking how the cookies are alive and even talking!

-surely a conversation will be made, trying to understand each other point of view, GingerBrave seeing you dont have bad intentions gets him very curious, maybe is the first chance can be friends with a human? (still, he will keep his guard up!)

Wizard Cookie

-This is the scariest moment of his life, and he already has lived a lot of does moments, a human as arrives in the kingdom, or dear god, what we do!?

-He will try his best to act brave, he will try to make a spell or something to make you go away or a spell to make everyone run away faster and safe!

-if one of his magic gets you (surely a thunder hurting you badly) and sees you hurt, he will gran confident and start asking you questions, or more like accusations

-Seeing you confused or you dont know about witchers or cookies dont make Wizard Cookie 'fall', he thinks you just pretending to keep all cookies guard down for your strike!

-He will continue attacking with his magic, he is confused seeing you not attack back and mostly starts to cry due to how hurt you are, but he will not stop! surely you just playing along!, only Gingerbrave stop him from taking this more calm

-After that conversation he not believe you, he will still think you just pretending to be weak and dont have knowledge about magic or cookies, even if the other cookies give you a chance to be with them, he will have his eyes on you, ready of any suspicious actions you do

Strawberry Cookie

-I hope you have your ears ready, becuse you will hear the highest peach scream you ever hear in your life, and that is from Strawberry Cookie

-She is so scared she will run away and hide, already crying, pleading this is just a horrible nightmare! this is not our doom, right?

-She only will come out when she see GingerBrave as taked the situation

-She is surprised you dont know anything about witches, magic, or alive cookies! and how confused and scared you are, of course, she agrees with Wizard Cookie, and she will also keep his guard up, normally seeing is the cookie how must distant keeps from you

-Nonetheless, she is interested about you, like, is the first-ever human she could be close with, and even talk with! and she can see your feelings and emotions, surely you will grow a fast conection

Custard Cookie III

-He will be scared, confused, everything! everything is happening so fast he can't process everything asap, soon realizes, OH CHEESE, IS THAT A HUMAN!?

-As see GingerBrave and Wizard Cookie are ahead fighting the Human he will try his best to participate too, fixing his 'neck' and announcing to you "Begon to my kingdom, witch! you are not welcome here! better leave soon before you suffer the consequences!"

-Even he is scared inside and tries to act brave/stronger, He is worried and confused seeing you hurt and not even fighting back, like, why are you fighting, why are you crying!?, he agreed with GingerBrave to stop this, and solve this talking

-After that conversation, he does a small laugh, well this is the first time there is a good human, and maybe the first good human in his kingdom, "Well there [Y/N]! I'm glad to announce that I! Custard Cookie III, you are welcome in my kingdom! but first, you need to do small tasks due to all the chaos you cause, no pressure!"

-Of course, you gonna do Custard Cookie III duty he gives to you, is a good chance to show the rest of the cookies of the kingdom you mean no harm, and you are very thankful he allowed you to be in his kingdom (but Wizard Cookie dont like this)

Chili Pepper Cookie

-Same as Custard Cookie III, she will be hella confused about why everyone is screaming and running away, what is going on!? after can hear all the fighting going on and see the human, she gets hella scared!

-"Frick this shet im out", she will not participate to help, she thinks GingerBrave and Wizard Cookie are lost of their mind, she already knew they are kinda crazy for face thing is more they can bite, but this cross the entire line

-She surely takes this chance to steal A LOT of stuff while the cookies are running away, literally, this is the golden opportunity she was waiting for!

-Sadly the party is over for her when Gingerbrave takes this situation to solve this talking and everyone arrives at an agreement, soon after is discovered Chili Peper Cookie stole everything >:(

-Hell no, she will not face you even if the others force her she will not be not even slightly near you, so you only know her from the cookies talk about her, even if she dont trust you, she mostly there observing you, after all, she curious about you, this take Wizard Cookie a chance to make a deal with Chili Peper Cookie, even she 'dont tell me what to do' she actually do what Wizard Cookie said, possibly any sneaky suspicious about you can get her to get some sorta reward!

[temis-de-leon]

Demon Brothers and Short!MC

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon and Satan x gn!reader (separately)

Main Masterlist

Requested by @yeosanityyyy: hiii!!! i love love love your writing and wanted to request something! can you write head canons w lucifer, mammon and satan with a short mc? like for reference, i’m about 5’0, luci is 6.3, mammon is 6’1 and satan is about 5’11! :))) ty!

A/N: I'm 5'3 if you're curious

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Lucifer

It isn’t something he pays special attention to, at least in the beginning. After all, when he first meets you in person, you’re scared and shrunken by intimidation; everything around you is unknown and hostile, so your small stature seems even tinier.

Over time, although he doesn’t really need it, the high difference makes him feel stronger, more powerful and superior.

His shadow leaves you in darkness when he stands before you in the staircase and he threatens to harm you if you don’t stop investigating the voice coming from the attic. When he dances with you at the castle retreat, the span of his wings makes you disappear and your whole hand cracks under the pressure of just a couple of his fingers.

The imbalance strokes his ego and helps establish your place beneath him.

That is, until you start disobeying him and jeopardizing Lord Diavolo’s plans for the future.

You’re tiny and puny, yes, but also a nuisance with quite the potential. His frustration over your actions makes him momentarily forget about your height, and after all the… drama, it ends up being the last thing in his mind.

It isn’t until you’re gone and he misses you that he starts to pay attention to that feature.

He thinks of the last time he held you, your last night in the Devildom, and his last goodbye to you, when he had to bend down to whisper his last words to your ear. He’d been so focused on the idea of your inevitable absence at the time that everything else seemed meaningless.

One night, after sharing more than a couple of bottles of Demonus, he comes back to the House of Lamentation feeling uncharacteristically melancholic. He wants to hold you again, but you aren’t there for him, and the only thing that can console him is your uniform, neatly kept in your closet, and the faintest hint of your perfume that still lingers in the air.

He holds the hanger right in front of him, trying to get his mind to fill in the gaps and imagine you there in front of him, but the way he’s doing it is making it seem as if you were floating. His fingers graze the textile that would be hugging your waist.

And he wasn’t thinking about it before, but your height certainly can’t leave his mind now.

Mammon

It’s the first thing he notices when he enters the Assembly Hall that first night. You’re shivering in the vastness of the room, all wide eyed and mouth agape, and you’re as small as a mouse.

He laughs at first, because how could he not? You are a walking stereotype. Human, weak, dumb and small? You have it all.

Although he would find it even more hilarious if he didn’t have to be the one responsible to actually look out for you.

Whatever.

It’s better than being hanged from the staircase for days on end, right?

Thankfully, it turns out that you’re not that much of an inconvenient. It turns out that you can be decent company, smart enough to not seek death and even funny sometimes.

He would never say that you are friends, but it’s obvious to everyone that you are the best one he has; never mind what he says about Goldie.

Still, that doesn’t mean he will stop teasing you about how small you are just because now you are buddies or something. He complains several times a day about the neck pain you cause him when he has to look down to talk to you, he uses your head as an armrest pretty often, and even though he’d never say it out loud, he panics every time he loses you in a crowd.

However, it isn’t until you’re in actual danger that he realizes how small you actually are.

The most noticeable time is when you’re in the kitchen late at night, eating a custard like it’s nobody’s business. You’re tired, cold and cranky, not in the mood for midnight snaking, but you’re doing it anyway because he’s telling you to do so. Sadly, his brother appears in the doorway before he can congratulate you for being so obedient, monotone voice deep with a primal need for revenge and fists clenched while his eyes focused on the empty container in your hands.

Next thing Mammon knows, you’re both hiding behind the counter while the Avatar of Gluttony raids the kitchen in search of something that can satisfy him. You are trembling in his arms, but not from the temperature that time, and he can’t help but feel like a single punch would break you in half.

He allows himself to hug you tighter, to protect you of course, and enjoy how nicely you fit in his embrace.

His behaviour won’t let him seek you the way he wants to, but each memory will stay in his mind forever.

Satan

Obviously he notices how short you are, but he is one of the only brothers in the family to force himself to ignore it. It would be uncharacteristic of him to judge you based on a physical feature (quite literally judging a book by its cover) and he does love a good mystery.

How different are you from how you look like? Just as meek and discreet? Or do you hide some strength that could surprise everyone around you?

However, as curious as he is, Satan doesn’t really interact with you during the beginning of the exchange program unless strictly necessary. He has more important things to do, like keeping up with his vast social circle and antagonizing Lucifer as much as possible, and Mammon is already there to make sure you aren’t dead by the end of the day.

Of course, his lack of interest vanishes quickly when he realises how much you unnerve Lucifer.

Forming a pact with you looks like the perfect way to annoy the eldest brother, and seeing how easy it was for his brothers to get one with you, he supposed you would accept instantly if he so graciously proposed it unprompted.

Unfortunately for you, he was wrong.

You reject him, right out of the bat, and he doesn’t really think much of anything beyond that point. You forged bonds with Asmo, Beel, Levi and even Mammon, but he is where you draw the line? Him, Satan? Don’t you trust him? Do you see him as inferior? Below those idiots?

The threats are quick to leave his lips, and as his words get more gruesome and violent by the second, you shrink over yourself with fear and hopelessness. Your frame disappears in the shadows of his room, and for a moment, he wonders what would happen if one the book towers in his room collapsed under the power of his outrage.

How much would you break?

Thankfully, although Satan feels gutted to even think this, Lucifer appears just in time to deescalate the situation. What comes after is a series of events that he would’ve never imagined happening to him, like coming to an understanding with his eldest brother, but it ends up with him apologizing to you and creating a pact out of genuine emotion and not petty manipulation, so he’s satisfied.

Your height doesn’t come up to his mind after that. The violent thoughts that possessed him back then in his room vanish and he goes to treat you with complete normality, like he would with any other friend.

The main difference is that he sends you way more cat videos than he does to anyone else he knows, even Solomon.

But for some reason, he only sends videos with munchkin cats.

Weird.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @mia4gotcookiez

[pankowcrumbs]

Wounded X Joseph Quinn

MasterList

Joseph Quinn Masterlist

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

There’s something oddly comforting about the sound of boots crunching gravel, especially when you’ve been on set for ten hours, treating everything from minor sprains to someone managing to walk into a lighting rig. The Warfare set is rough. Not just in tone, but in the energy it attracts. Testosterone, explosions, prop guns that feel far too realistic. And men loud, playful, reckless men

And then there’s Joseph.

I’d never say it aloud, but I think he might be my favourite patient. Not that I’m supposed to have favourites. But when someone shows up in your medic bay with the consistency of a homing pigeon, you start to form opinions.

Joseph Quinn is like that. Quiet in moments, cheeky in others, and always managing to injure himself just enough to warrant a visit to me. Nothing major a scraped knuckle here, a bruised shoulder there. Once he came in because he “swallowed air wrong.” That turned out to be a dramatic cough.

The others are all chaos incarnate. Big laughs, shoves between takes, wrestling over who gets the last custard cream. Joseph fits in, but in a different way. He’s like the quiet storm. Observing. Smirking. Then doing something utterly idiotic like swinging a prop rifle like a baseball bat to knock a fake grenade mid-air.

Which, incidentally, is what led to today’s injury.

I was facing the cupboard, re-organising bandages in my little medic bay which, let’s be honest, is more glorified broom cupboard than clinic. My back to the door, the familiar click-clack of someone walking in barely registered before I spoke, voice already laced with amusement.

“It’s the fact that I don’t even have to turn around to know who just walked into my medbay right now.”

There was a pause then shuffling. Awkward shuffling.

I didn’t even need to turn. I already knew.

“Joseph… if I turn around and you have a broken finger from what I told you was going to give you a broken finger,” I said slowly, with all the gravitas I could muster, “I’m going to break your whole hand.”

More silence.

And then I turned.

There he was. Standing sheepishly near the sink, holding his left hand gently in the other, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. His eyes those annoyingly pretty brown eyes were wide and guilty. And yes. One finger; the ring finger was starting to swell and tilt at a rather unfortunate angle.

“You’ve got a broken finger,” I said, completely deadpan.

He gave me a tiny shrug. “Possibly.”

I sighed, dramatically.

“Right. Let me go get my stuff. Because apparently Y/N has to fix everything around here.”

I disappeared into the back room, muttering under my breath as I grabbed the splint kit and some gauze. When I returned, he was sitting on the edge of the cot, swinging his legs like a schoolboy. His whole face lit up with a guilty grin when he saw me.

“I told you,” I scolded, setting my kit beside him, “that swinging that bloody prop around like it’s a cricket bat was going to end in tears.”

He raised his uninjured hand in surrender. “In my defence, it looked cool until it didn’t.”

“You know what else looks cool?” I snapped, carefully unwrapping the gauze. “Not breaking your bones.”

“Fair point,” he muttered.

I gently took his hand, inspecting the swelling. His skin was warm beneath my fingers. He winced slightly as I pressed just below the knuckle.

“Definitely broken,” I confirmed.

He gave me a sheepish look again. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, I believe you,” I said, reaching for the splint. “But at this point, people are going to start thinking you’re getting these little injuries just for an excuse to see me.”

His eyes snapped to mine.

I froze, just for a second, before glancing up at him.

His ears went red. Very red. “Well… I mean…” he rubbed the back of his neck with his good hand. “Maybe that’s not entirely untrue.”

I blinked.

“You’re saying… you broke your finger to come and flirt with me?”

“Not… deliberately,” he said quickly, eyes darting around the room like he was looking for an escape hatch. “But… I wouldn’t say I’m upset that it means I get to see you.”

I stared at him, utterly unimpressed. “You flirt by throwing your bones at the ground?”

He laughed, the sound low and genuinely amused. “Not usually, no.”

I sighed again, more fond than frustrated this time. “You’re a menace, Joe”

“Only for you.”

“Not flattering,” I muttered, securing the splint to his finger. “Right. That should hold until we can get you an X-ray to confirm. But don’t go trying to reset it yourself. And definitely no more cricket-style swings with the fake rifle.”

He held up his good hand again, mock solemn. “Swear it.”

I finished wrapping his hand and stepped back, admiring my handiwork. “Honestly,” I muttered, “do you lot ever just… sit still?”

“Not when there’s this much chaos to be had,” he said with a grin.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He looked up, that grin softening into something gentler. “I know.”

We were quiet for a beat too long.

Then, because silence made me uncomfortable especially when he was looking at me like that I turned away and started clearing up.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Joseph Quinn,” I said over my shoulder.

“At least you'll die in good hands.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly gave myself a migraine.

“Out,” I said, pointing at the door. “Go. Tell them you broke it arm-wrestling a bear or something. Anything that doesn’t include me in the narrative.”

He stood, flexing his hand carefully. “You sure you don’t want me to stay and help tidy up?”

I raised an eyebrow. “With one hand?”

“Could be fun.”

“Out.”

He laughed, backing out of the room like a cheeky toddler, then poked his head back in. “Thank you, Nurse Y/N.”

“I’m not a nurse, I’m a medic,” I called after him.

“Fine. Thank you, Doctor Y/N.”

“Still not a doctor!”

The door clicked shut behind him.

I stared at the closed door for a moment, shaking my head. Then I smiled just a little.

He didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after.

I won’t lie I missed him. Missed the chaos he brought with him. The easy way he made me laugh even when I was annoyed. The way he always looked at me like I mattered, even when he was being an absolute rat.

Then, on Friday, just as I was closing the medbay for the evening, the door creaked open.

Joseph stood there, holding a Tupperware container and wearing that same sheepish smile.

“I come bearing peace,” he said.

I eyed the container. “Is that…”

“Victoria sponge. I made it.”

“You made it?”

He looked mildly offended. “I can bake!”

I took it from him suspiciously, then looked up. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said, rubbing his splinted hand. “Just… wanted to say sorry. Again. For being reckless. And maybe a bit of a distraction.”

I smiled at him. “You’re not a distraction.”

He tilted his head. “A good one, though?”

I hesitated then nodded. “Yeah. A good one.”

He smiled that soft, shy smile that was entirely different from the one he wore for the cameras.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, voice quieter now.

“Sure.”

“If I asked you to get a drink with me… no broken bones involved… would you say yes?”

I stared at him. My heart was pounding.

“I’d say yes,” I said.

His smile widened. “Good. Because I was starting to run out of fingers.”

I laughed. Loudly. “Well, let’s keep the rest intact, yeah?”

“Deal.”

[peach-top]

Can you do platonic Clotted Cream Cookie with a brother reader who ran away from home?

The reason why brother reader ran away because he wanted to become a illusion magic teacher

brother reader has illusion magic like Gus from the owl house

❝BROTHER...?❞

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: male 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: clotted cream + brother!reader 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: none 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: you ran away from home to become a illusion teacher at the vanilla kingdom

you're the biological son of elder custard and the adopted brother of clotted cream cookie. your father has been treating you as his pawn and forbidden you from using magic, calling you a disgrace of house custard. because of this, you ran away from home, leaving your brother under the care of your father.

now, you're an illusion magic teacher, teaching your students how to use illusion magic. you don't need your deadbeat father nagging you or forbidding you from fulfilling your dream.

“You cannot eat the illusion of the raisins, my dear students.” you chuckled after you witnessed one of the villager 3 trying to eat the illusion of the raisins they formed.

“I'll give you raisins as a reward after class.” you smiled, receiving cheers from his students.

“Hurray for [Y] Cookie!”

“Hurray!”

“This is the illusion magic class! They're taught to create an illusion of many things. It's pretty neat when seeing it for the first time!” gingerbrave explained to the cream blonde haired male. clotted cream perked up with interest, “Oh? Who's this cookie teaching a class of illusion?”

“It's [Y] Cookie! He helped with redesigning the kingdom and wanted to teach some cookies about illusion spells.” The brave cookie said.

clotted cream’s eyes widened at the mention of your name, “Did you just say [Y] Cookie…?”

“Yeah. Is something wrong?” gingerbrave tilted his head. clotted cream looks through the window at you. just looking at you, you look far happier where you are now than at the creme republic. he can understand why you ran away from home. he wish he could've done the same.

clotted cream put up a forceful smile, “No. Nothing. Let us continue on with the tour.”

“Ok. Let's go!” gingerbrave beamed. financier cookie frowned, “Are you sure, consul? This is the perfect opportunity to reunite with him.”

clotted cream shook his head, “No need. He seems…happy to be here. He's already accomplished something he wanted to do.”

“Best to leave him be for now…I don't want to ruin anything for him.”

╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on other stories, too.

rules

cookie run masterlists

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 [Teaser]

In which Jungkook really only went to earth to take home his new pet- but ends up leaving with a lot more than that.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Ocean theme, very wet planet, bioluminescence, sci-fi, Romance, strangers to lovers, God this ended up WAY softer and fluffier than I thought it would, Fluff, Kook is tall and buff but sometimes fails to realize that, a pet shark named Custard, another pet shark named Noodle, more TBA

Length: unknown yet, teaser is ~700 words

-> Masterlist

A/N: a silly idea I had because of fellow fish enthusiast @euphoricfilter

━━━━━━━━━━.~°🩵°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’m pretty sure they’ll get along great.” Jungkook smiles. “Of course I’ll have to slowly familiarize the two- but Custard is very sweet, she’s just sometimes a bit moody.” He explains to you, who watches the other shark in the tank with him as he’s being fed by a caretaker.

“I heard they’re a.. popular pet.” You mention, and Jungkook nods.

“Yeah! I initially wanted a lemon shark first, but then things changed, and I got custard first.” He shrugs. “Which I think might have been a good thing, considering that lemon sharks are said to get jealous easily if not properly socialized. It’s easier to introduce them to an already established shark than have them first and get them comfortable with a new one.” The alien explains, watching his new pet swim around.

“You know a lot about them.” You say, and he chuckles a bit bashful.

“I uh- not really. I just.. wanted to know what I’d be getting myself into. A pet is a big responsibility. “ He explains to you, and you nod.

“I swam with lemon sharks before.” You mention. “they’re pretty cute, but.. a bit chaotic sometimes.” You giggle, remembering the time, and how overwhelmed you’d gotten as the sharks had began playfully fighting over attention of you and the other divers.

“So you’re a good swimmer?” He asks curiously, standing next to you in front of the gigantic tank that holds his chosen pet inside, the young shark swimming around for now, while he’s being prepared for the newer conditions soon to become his permanent home.

“..decent.” You laugh a bit uneasy. “I.. nowhere near, you know, your skills.” You say, and he laughs.

“Oh that’s- like comparing clams with mussels. It’s not the same- just looks similar. Like us!” He shrugs off. “I think you’re under-selling yourself. And even if you’re not a good swimmer- I could teach you!” He offers, making you look up from where you stand near the glass.

"I'm just.. still a bit scared." You admit. "You know, after all that happened. I don't think I could just.. forget that and just.." you sigh, and he gently bumps your shoulder.

"Hey.. no one's asking you to." He tells you. "It just might be a good chance to face your fears? And I'll always be right at your side. I have an underwater license after all!" He proudly reminds you, and you can't help but laugh.

“You really seem like you really want me to visit your planet.” You tease, though he clearly doesn’t take it as a joke- nodding with almost cute enthusiasm.

“Of course! You said you always wanted to- so why not do it while visiting a friend?” He proposes. “it’s safer than just going alone. You could get lost, or even hurt.” He tells you. “and you’d miss out on.. you know, the spots only locals know.” Jungkook says, before he looks as Noodle swims closer again to inspect something floating around.

“I mean, you’re right..” you mumble, watching the shark move around. “…but I don’t know. I don’t think I could.. really.. I’m still just human.” You tell him, and he nods.

“I’m aware.” He responds. “and my planet has already made many adjustments to accommodate humans in many areas. You seem to forget that my kind has been.. mixing with humans for a long time by now. “ He chuckles. “means we had to evolve too, and change some of our architecture and stuff to adapt to those changes.” He says.

He’s right. And, in a way, he’s a living example of that change- with his honestly surprisingly human appearance, minus the height difference, and the hardly visible stripes of his skin.

“so, if you’d like, I’d happily house you for your vacation on my planet.” He grins. “and we can see just how well you swim.” He teases, leaning down a bit towards you before you both leave the large hall containing the tank for his new pet-

And you feel like this won’t just be a vacation at all, considering that he’s made it clear that he’s found interest in you past just simply being friends.

And in a way, you don’t mind that one bit.

[ginnsbaker]

In Silent Screams (3/3)

Chapter word count: 11.8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision (past) Warnings in this part: Smut (F/F), Angst, Gaslighting, Blackmail, Mild attempted sexual assault

A/N: This is probably the most uncomfortable fic I've written after In Flames (for good reason lol), so I'm nothing short of amazed if you were able to go through every line in this three-parter. P.S. For some reason, third part was the hardest to write for me, I guess it's because a lot of the scenes now are the same ones from In Flames after R found out and switching perspectives was a lot harder than I anticipated :P

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

It all feels like a dream, starting from the moment she opens her eyes and a few rays of light have filtered through the slats of the blinds. For a few moments Wanda pretends she’s back to that day—to that first morning she woke up next to you as your wife.  She can still vividly recall the setting: your old bedroom in Montauk. Less than a year out of college, both you and Wanda were being frugal about the whole marriage thing, opting out of checking into a hotel after the festivities the night before.

Wanda smiles to herself at the fond memory. She glances to the side, and the alarm clock reads 5:30. It's too early to be waking you up, or anyone in this sleepy town. Nevertheless, she has to talk herself into extricating herself from your arms if she wants to pull off a very special breakfast-in-bed. A hesitant decision, a quiet sigh, and Wanda's slowly pulling herself from the warmth of the bed. The wood floor feels cool against her bare feet, prompting her to reach for one of your used polo shirts hanging over the back of the desk chair.

She enters the kitchen, her hands immediately getting to work. The spinach and mushroom are her first go-to, swiftly layered with day-old bread, and custard mix, forming the base for her strata. Next come the eggs, which she sets to poach, anticipating the smooth burst of yolk that'll cascade over the muffin once all is said and done. And then finally, bacon—your favorite. 

Sparky trots into the kitchen, inevitably drawn by the wafting aroma, his tail wagging in tandem with his eagerness. He settles by her feet, watching with those pleading puppy eyes, occasionally letting out a quiet whine that speaks of his impatience and hope. Wanda chuckles, bending down to ruffle his fur. “You think this will get you a piece, huh?” she teases. But, she already knows that she'll give in, sneaking him a piece or two. He's your and Wanda's baby after all.

After she’s finished plating the meal, she sets them on a tray and carefully carries it back to the bedroom. The morning sun presents itself more boldly, almost spotlighting you in bed. Your face is tucked beneath a pillow, the sheets haphazardly pooled around your waist, revealing the bare expanse of your back, without a care in the world. Warmth floods Wanda's chest. She places the tray on a nearby desk.

Breakfast can wait.

Slipping into bed behind you, she becomes a shadow to your form. Her fingers gently trace the curve of your shoulder, lightly skimming over your skin. A shiver runs through her, and she lowers her lips to your nape. The temptation is too great, and soon, her tongue joins the fray, drawing a wet path down your spine. And then, unable to stop herself, she begins to rub herself against you, a soft moan escaping her lips. The sheer fabric of the polo shirt she's wearing, infused with your scent, rubs tantalizingly against her sensitized skin, heightening her need. 

She can't stop thinking about last night, and the times before. She can't stop thinking about you—having you, being had by you. However, as your muscles start to tense, indicating the micro movements of your awakening body, a soft “fuck” slips from Wanda's lips, distracting her rhythm. She waits, a small smile tugging at her lips, silently asking if you're ready to greet the day—together.

You lazily roll onto your back, causing Wanda to reposition herself, now straddling your abdomen. With a drowsy smirk, your eyes half-lidded, you murmur, “Good morning,” squinting at the enthusiastic goddess—my wife, you think possessively to yourself— hovering above you.

Her face lights up, her morning energy nearly palpable. “Morning,” she chirps back, leaning down to capture your lips in a short but sweet kiss. Breaking away only slightly, she gives you a playful eskimo kiss, her nose rubbing affectionately against yours. A giggle escapes you, and she continues until you feel her nose scrunch up from how hard she’s smiling, all the while relishing the sound of her laughter. 

When she's done teasing you, she buries her face in your neck. Drawn to the soft, milky expanse of her thighs, your hands begin to wander. As your fingers brush the curve where her thigh meets her hip, the subtle absence of fabric gives you pause. She's without a stitch beneath your polo. Your thumb ventures further south, discovering the dampness tangled in her soft curls. Heat surges to your cheeks, and you bite your lip, stifling a moan.

Wanda notices the slight change in your expression and a devilish smirk forms on her lips. “Seems like you found a little surprise,” she teases.

“Did I?” you smirk, tracing  the V-line leading to her hidden treasure, teasing her a little. Wanda's breath catches, her pupils blown. But just as she readies herself for whatever comes next, you suddenly shift upwards, unbalancing her slightly. Reflexively, her legs wrap around your waist, anchoring herself to you. Her hands fly to your shoulders, gripping them for support. With a swift move, you part the front of the polo she’s wearing, exposing the smooth curve of her breast to the cool morning air.

The sudden exposure makes her gasp, but before she can utter a word, you close the distance, taking a hardened nipple into your mouth. Her face contorts in unabashed pleasure, her world spinning as you draw her deeper and deeper into your mouth. It's messy and primal, yet at the same time, it's reverent and sacred—something she has only ever experienced with you. She can't help but squirm, fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer, urging you on. 

Keeping an arm firmly around her waist to ensure she stays secure, your free hand travels down her belly, fingers tracing a sultry path to her soaked center. You leisurely trace her slick folds, gathering her arousal, playing with it. 

“Please, baby,” she arches and bucks, grinding her hips, “more...I need more.”

Your lips twist into a devious smirk, reveling in her desperation. Drawing back slightly, you gaze at the flushed, vulnerable state of her, taking a moment to commit the image to memory. “I love it when you’re this needy…” you rasp, the tease evident in your tone. 

Oh, but she is. She needs you to claim her, time and time again. She never wants to be anything else other than yours once more.

You lean back in, trailing a path of searing kisses from her collarbone, down to the valley between her breasts. Without warning, you nip at her tender flesh, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. Marking her further, you suck and bite gently, leaving a trail of reddened spots, declaring your claim on her. With every purple bruise you leave, Wanda's moans grow more desperate, more wanton.

When you finally lift your head, her chest is littered with bites, then with a wicked grin, you dip your finger into her wetness once more, circling her entrance but never dipping inside.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I... I want you,” she admits breathlessly, biting her lower lip, eyes pleading. “Please, I need you inside.”

Not wanting to make her wait any longer, you slide two fingers into her, curling them expertly. Wanda's body arches off the bed, her inner walls instantly tightening around your digits, pulling them deeper. Every sound that spills from her lips, the way her body arches, trying to get closer, to feel more of you, tells you just how good you’re making her feel. 

Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, while your fingers continue to piston in and out of her. The room is filled with the sound of Wanda's ragged breaths and the wet, slick noises of your fingers moving within her. As you feel her body tense further, you take a chance and slide a third finger into her, stretching her, filling her completely. The sensation of being so full sends Wanda over the edge.

“Oh, God!” she gasps, her back arching, eyes squeezed shut. Her hands grip your shoulders tightly, knuckles white from the intensity of her climax. Her inner walls spasm around your fingers, coating them with her release, her entire body trembling in the throes of ecstasy.

You keep up the pace, not wanting to stop until she's wrung out from pleasure. Each stroke of your fingers sends aftershocks rippling through her. When it finally becomes too much, Wanda grabs your wrist.

“Enough,” she breathes out, a sated smile curling her lips. 

You can't resist the allure of the taste she's left on your fingers. You raise them to your lips, deliberately and slowly, letting her watch as you savor her taste. The move earns a flustered gasp from her.

“You taste so good,” you murmur, your voice low and husky.

Wanda's cheeks redden, but her eyes darken once more, filled with a burning intensity. “Your turn,” she whispers, reaching for you.

-

Thirty minutes before she can call it a day, the sound of a knock on her office door sends a ripple of tension through Wanda. 

She knows that knock all too well.

Taking a deep breath, she calls out, “Yes?” even as she mentally braces herself for who might be on the other side. 

The person almost immediately steps in, and—unfortunately, she's correct about who she thinks it might be. Before she can utter a word, he says, “You know, I can't just come in without an appointment, right?”

“Exactly, Vision. You shouldn't be here without—” she starts to say, but he interrupts her by triumphantly holding up an appointment slip.

His cheeky grin widens. “Got one right here.”

Wanda eyes the slip, pursing her lips as she thinks of a retort, keeping her guard up. The game has changed, but Vision's audacity, it seems, remains the same.

“Alright, what do you want? And I wouldn’t entertain anything that doesn’t have to do with the course.”

“Just some clarification about our last lecture,” he says as he closes the door behind him, audibly locking it. Wanda maintains her composure, not letting it show that the small act alarms her in the slightest.

“Go on,” Wanda prompts, leaning back slightly against her desk, arms crossed defensively.

But Vision, without missing a beat, launches into something entirely different. “I miss you,” he starts, and Wanda's posture stiffens, her fingernails reactively digging into her arms rather painfully. “I realize I messed up, Wanda. I do. But I can change.”

“Vis—” she warns, trying to interrupt him, but he barrels on, his voice filled with desperation.

“And if, by any chance, you're pregnant, I'll step up. I promise. I'll be responsible,” he continues, his voice quivering slightly. “You have no idea how happy I’ll be if you are.”

“I'm not pregnant,” Wanda whispers, struggling to keep her emotions in check. It's one thing for him to disregard her boundaries and be reckless with his words, but to assume that she would continue a pregnancy, knowing he's the father? Even the thought of it is sickening. 

“And I would still choose not to be even if you were successful in your plans,” she adds, just to spite him.

Vision looks as if he might be sick, his complexion turning pallid, and a faint sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. Wanda has never seen him struck by her words this hard, and she realizes she doesn't have any idea what he might do next.

“I just... I thought…” he stammers, eyes glistening, “I just wanted to matter to you, b-by—”

“By what, Vision?” She cuts him off, her tone icy. “Hoping you'd lock me down by trying to knock me up?”

Vision’s face crumples further, tears spilling over. For all his stature—tall, lanky yet broad-shouldered—in this moment, he's stripped of that facade. His body shake as he tries to hold back sobs. “I didn't... I didn't think it through,” he manages to say between choked breaths.

Wanda almost pities him, but she shakes her head. “If you’re not here for school, you need to leave.” Her voice is cold, but inside, she's fighting a storm of guilt for the hurt she sees in him.

Just then, the shrill ring of Wanda's phone startles them both simultaneously. Vision's eyes dart to the screen as her caller ID lights up, displaying your name. In a split second, desperation and panic take hold of him. He lunges for the phone, but Wanda is quicker. She swiftly grabs it from her desk, tucking it safely into her purse.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses, her back pressing against the desk.

Vision's eyes burn with an intensity that chills her. Taking slow, deliberate steps, he looms over her, his presence imposing in the small confines of her office. “That’s her, isn’t it?” he demands with barely suppressed jealousy. “She's coming to get you now?”

Wanda backs away slightly, her breathing erratic. “Vision, you need to think—”

“I am thinking.” His voice drops to a low, menacing growl. He tilts his head, eyes never leaving hers. “And maybe I'm thinking of doing something you won't like.”

“No!” Wanda pleads. “Look, Vision—okay, okay, let’s talk. Just not here. We can go to your place.”

His gaze narrows, considering her offer. “When?”

“Soon.”

Vision shakes his head. Not good enough. 

“Tomorrow,” he states without room for argument, his eyes drilling into hers. “Same time. Like we used to.” The allusion to their previous meetings isn't lost on her.

Wanda's throat constricts, “Fine,” she whispers, barely audible, a clear note of dread in her voice. She hates the familiarity of this situation. Most of all, she hates that she's put herself in this position to begin with.

Suddenly, Vision reaches out, his fingers nearly brushing the side of her face. Wanda instinctively shrinks back, but the space between the desk and Vision offers her little room to escape. Her back is to the wall, both literally and figuratively. She can feel the cold press of the desk behind her, contrasting with the heat emanating from Vision's body. It’s obvious what he's thinking, what he's restraining himself from doing.

Horrified and trapped, Wanda closes her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. But instead of the touch she anticipates, she hears Vision's harsh intake of breath. The realization that she's retreated from him seems to strike a nerve.

Without another word, Vision pulls away sharply, as if burnt. He turns on his heel, storming out of her office. As soon as he’s gone, her legs give out from under her and she slides down to the cold floor, clutching her chest as she struggles for air. The walls of her office seem to close in on her, trapping her in her own spiraling thoughts. 

As the room begins to blur, the sharp buzz of her phone breaks through her spiraling thoughts. Instinctively, she reaches into her purse, pulling out the phone. Your name illuminates the screen, and with it comes a flood of emotions—relief, safety, love. 

The mere thought of you—so close, just beyond these walls—stops a panic attack from consuming her.

-

“Would you like to go bowling?” Wanda asks you as soon as she fastens her seat belt.

The randomness of the suggestion takes you aback, and a hearty laugh escapes your lips. But as you glance over to see Wanda's reaction, expecting to see her sharing in the moment's levity, you're met with a pained expression.

Your smile fades immediately, replaced by concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

Wanda mentally curses herself, realizing just how easily you can read her, see past her defenses. Needing to come up with something plausible, she quickly blurts out, “I had something super spicy when you called earlier. Didn't handle it too well, it seems.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up in a weak attempt at a reassuring smile, hoping you'd buy the lie, or at least not press further.

You don’t. “Hmm… how about we take Sparky out for a stroll today?” you suggest.

“A walk sounds great,” Wanda replies, her voice softening.

“Good,” you say, starting the car. “Let's head to the park. A bit of nature might do us both some good.”

The engine rumbles softly as you shift the gears, transitioning smoothly from one to the next. And then, almost instinctively, you reach out to take Wanda's hand, your fingers lacing with hers in a gentle yet firm grip. You hold her hand throughout the entire ride home, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze whenever you feel them tremble between yours.

That night, while you sleep soundly beside her, she finds herself unable to sleep. She spends the empty hours simply studying your peaceful face. There's a childlike innocence in the way your lips part slightly, a soft snore escaping occasionally. It's endearing, and it makes Wanda smile, even through her turmoil. She imagines traces of age on your face—the lines that will mark years of laughter, the silver that will streak through your hair. She tries to picture herself beside you, her own face carrying the weight of the years, both of you holding on to each other until the last breath. Her smile is teary as she hopes and hopes that this is where she's headed—to this future.

Because tomorrow, she will have to see Vision, and if everything goes well, she'll never have to see him again. Then she will finally express how she needs you to take her back to Manhattan or anywhere far from here, so she'll never have to relive this nightmare she’s created.

The next day comes like any regular day of the week. She kisses you goodbye as you head off to work, and she feeds Sparky to his heart's content before getting into a pinstripe blue blazer set. She fails to notice just how good she looks in this well-fitted ensemble, the fabric hugging her waist perfectly. Her focus is solely on feeling powerful, as she knows she'll need all the strength to finally put an end to things with Vision.

-

Wanda takes a deep breath, then another, and then two more, before she finally gathers enough courage to knock on the door. Vision answers almost immediately, as though he had been anticipating her knock down to the very second. 

The man before her now looks wholly different from the one she had encountered just yesterday. His blue eyes are bright and clear, his face clean shaven. The scent of a cologne she doesn't recognize wafts to her. New, she thinks. It's heady and distinctly masculine, unsettling her slightly.

“Wanda,” he greets with a charming smile, one that reaches his eyes, but doesn’t quite touch the soul behind them. For a moment, she's transported to the countless afternoons she spent here, entangled with him with nothing—not even air—separating their sweating, writhing bodies. His lips quirk into a sly, familiar smile, as if he too remembers those days and expects this visit to be a similar occasion. 

“Vision.” Gripping her shoulder bag tighter, almost using it as a shield, she quickly sidesteps him. “May I?” she asks, though it sounds more like a statement as she makes her way into his apartment.

He chuckles softly behind her, the sound dripping with memories she would rather forget. “Of course. After all, you've always felt at home here.”

Wanda's stride falters for a fraction of a second at his words, the implication threatening to pull her under. But she needed to keep her wits about her. If she wants this conversation to go her way.

“Let’s just get to the point, Vision,” she says curtly.

“I intend to,” he replies, closing the door behind them with an intentional finality. Wanda allows herself to glance around, seeking even a brief distraction from what's about to unfold. His apartment is in disarray, a stark contrast to his appearance. Her eyes are drawn to one particular piece amongst the chaos—the finished nude painting he had made of her. The realization catches in her throat. It appears he’s finished it.

Wanda shoots him an expectant look, urging him to speak first.

Vision clears his throat, attempting to sound casual but failing. “Wine? Or should we skip the formalities?”

Her eyes narrow, her patience waning. “We skip.”

“Alright.” 

He sighs and drops onto the couch. “Look, I've said sorry over and over, but I’ll say it again. I'm sorry, Wanda. I'm sorry for being careless that night.” His voice lowers, “But I don't regret it.”

Wanda's eyes flash with disbelief. “You don't regret it?”

“No,” he murmurs. “What I regret is that it didn't result in... well, you know.”

The implication is clear, and Wanda feels bile rise in her throat. How could he say something so audacious?

She opens her mouth to retort but he continues, raising a hand as if to hold off her words, “I want to keep seeing you. I can’t stop. Because, believe it or not, I'm in love with you.”

Wanda feels as though the ground has been pulled from under her feet. Every instinct tells her to run, but she knows that this won’t have an ending if she does. Wanda swallows dryly and closes her eyes, trying to piece together a strategy, a way to get through him, a way to get out of this unscathed, a way to ensure he won’t tell anyone about this when she leaves.

“I-I believe you,” she starts. “I think I’ve always known, no—felt, that you l-love me.” Vision nods to her words, his lips curling into a hopeful smile.

“But I have to be honest with you, too,” she continues, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I took advantage of those feelings, Vision. I knew, deep down, that you felt this way and I still... I still let it happen. And for that, I'm deeply sorry.”

He stiffens at her words, a frown forming on his brow. “Wanda—”

She raises her hand, signaling for him to let her finish. “I don’t love you. It's Y/N. It's always been her. From the very start. What happened between us, it was a mistake, one that I haven't forgiven myself for. Especially because of what it means for Y/N.”

She takes a shaky breath, looking into his eyes earnestly, “You deserve someone who can return your feelings, who can love you wholeheartedly. You're a handsome, intelligent, passionate young man. There are many out there who would consider themselves lucky to be with you—”

But Vision vehemently shakes his head, unwilling to accept it, refusing to acknowledge their end. “I want to keep seeing you.”

“You can't,” Wanda insists, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. “It's over.”

Vision's eyes flash dangerously, the calm veneer shattering in an instant. He takes a step forward, trapping Wanda with a threatening look.

“You think you can just fuck me and then discard me like nothing?!” he hisses.

Wanda backs up, startled. She feels her control starting to slip away. “Of course not. I… you were my friend. I cared—I care about you. But I shouldn't have let it get this far.”

He scoffs, not a word of hers reaching his ears. “So, it's all a game to you? You get to decide when to play and when to stop?”

“No, it's not a game,” she replies, desperate for him to understand. “But I can't keep lying to myself or to you. I can't keep hurting Y/N or you.”

His gaze snaps back to hers, and there's a glint of something dark and foreboding in his eyes. “Maybe you should've considered the consequences of your actions, Wanda.”

She swallows hard, sensing the danger in his voice. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe Y/N should know the truth,” he surmises, his voice dripping with malice. “Maybe she should know exactly who she's been sharing her bed with.”

Wanda feels like she might faint anytime. Panic rises, threatening to choke her. “Vision, please,” she pleads, “you can't do that.”

His eyes remain steely. “Why not? She deserves to know, doesn't she?”

Wanda takes a shaky breath, grappling for words, trying to appeal to his sense of reason. “Yes, she does. But not like this. Not from you. If anyone should tell her, it's me.”

“But you'll never tell her,” Vision says, his voice laced with accusation. “I see it in your eyes, Wanda. You don't have the balls to be honest with her. Because you're afraid. You're afraid she'll walk away.”

Both are poised in this high-stakes game, each waiting, anticipating, guessing what card the other will play next. For a heartbeat, Wanda feels disarmed, Vision's threat too sharp and too real. But as the seconds tick by, something shifts in her. She straightens up, pulling herself to her full height, and when she speaks, there’s no fear or hesitation in her voice.

“You’re not going to tell her,” she declares.

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Because you know I'll hate you,” she says. “And if there's even the slightest chance that I'll change my mind, then doing that wouldn't be it.”

Vision lets out a humorless laugh, but the look in his eyes betrays his indifference. “You think there's a chance you'll change your mind?” 

“No,” Wanda says firmly. “It's over.”

The defiant look that had been painted across Vision's face begins to crack. He looks smaller somehow, like he's shrinking back into himself. His shoulders slump, and the facade of control and confidence he'd donned earlier dissolves. The boy from yesterday, the one who seemed so heartbroken, returns in full force.

“Wanda,” his voice trembles, almost as if he's on the verge of tears. “Please, I’m all alone. I told you my life, I told you about my parents, nobody in this world cares about me! And I know I said I’m fine and I can survive without them, but why should I when I have you, Wanda—”

She can't help but pity him, his brokenness tugging at her heartstrings. But she knows that relenting now would mean drowning in the same cycle all over again.

“Vis, you will find someone. Someone who isn't me, someone better for you. Trust that.”

“How can I want someone else when I had you,” he insists with unwavering stubbornness, his eyes growing more frenzied, and Wanda shivers at the unsettling sight before her.

“Maybe you had me,” she says tearfully as she decides to finally drive a stake into his heart. “But not in every way like Y/N has me.”

Before she can register what's happening, Vision's hands are suddenly around her waist, pulling her forcefully against him. The initial shock and his assertiveness make her freeze for a split second. As he starts rubbing himself against her, she feels the unmistakable hardness growing between them.

“Vision, stop!” she protests, trying to wriggle free.

“Can you feel that?” he whispers hoarsely, clearly misinterpreting her struggle, mistaking it for their first time together and all the other times she eventually gave in to his advances. “That's how much I want you. Need you.”

Tears of frustration and fear spill from her eyes. “This isn't right, Vision. Let go,” she pleads, placing her hands against his chest and pushing with all her might.

“Wanda, just—maybe if we—you’ll see. You’ll see that you love me, just let me—”

Her fist connects with his cheek, causing him to stumble a few steps away. For a while, they both freeze in horror, the gravity of the situation sinking in. In his moment of delirium, Vision comprehends what he was about to do to the woman he claims to love, and guilt claws at his guts, wrenching his insides. 

On the other end, Wanda's chest heaves with shock and distress. She stands there momentarily paralyzed, the aftershocks of the ordeal still rippling through her. Tears blur her vision, but she refuses to let them fall, not now, not when she needs all her strength. Her gaze meets Vision's only briefly before she pulls herself together. She wraps her arms around herself, and then rushes to the front door.

He yells, “No, Wanda! I…please let’s just—”

But his pleas fall on deaf ears.

-

Wanda goes straight home after the whole fiasco with Vision. She locks herself in the bedroom, crying for hours, paying no attention to Sparky's worried barks from outside the door. She tells herself that it could be worse, trying to talk herself out of going to the police. If she goes to the authorities, she'll have to give a statement. This would inevitably lead to an investigation into their past, revealing things she doesn't want you to know.

Drained from crying, Wanda's eyelids grow heavy. As sleep overtakes her, vivid dreams flood her mind, each presenting an alternate reality. In one dream she’s back in Vision’s apartment, his arms wrapped around her like a chain, and every time she tries to pull away, the chains grow tighter, pulling her back into his prison. A cold dread settles in her heart, as she struggles and fights, desperate to wrench herself free from his grasp.

The next scenario places her in a world without Vision. It's a life untouched by his influence, where she walks unfamiliar streets and meets faces that do not recognize her. Then, in a sudden shift, she's back at her office on that fateful evening, but the events unfurl differently. The temptation of Vision never materializes. She leaves, unburdened by the weight of a choice she didn't make.

But the relief is short-lived. These dreams meld into a harrowing nightmare, saturated in hues of red and black, where you discover her secret. She tries to call out, to explain, to mend, but her voice is swallowed by the deafening silence of the dreamscape. 

In her seemingly endless silent screams, Wanda wakes up. The remnants of her haunting dreams still clutching at her, making her jolt upright. The fabric of the sheets sticks to her body, drenched in a cold sweat. Each breath comes in ragged gasps, as if she's been submerged underwater and has just broken the surface.

The bedside clock reads half past six and panic sets anew. You could be home in an hour, given that you haven't been extending your hours at the office lately. The realization pushes her into a frenzied urgency. Throwing off the sheets, Wanda rushes to the ensuite bathroom. The cold stream from the shower brings a semblance of clarity, washing away the residues of her nightmares. 

Wrapped in a towel, with droplets still cascading down her skin, she dashes to the kitchen. She pulls out ingredients, her hands working methodically, albeit with a haste that speaks of her need to keep busy, to keep the demons of her subconscious at bay. She manages to prepare a simple but appetizing meal, but the mere thought of taking a bite threatens to turn her stomach inside out.

The dining table is set, and she seats herself, her gaze distant once again. And she stays there, lost in her own head. 

It’s how you find her when you get home at 9:15 in the evening.

-

You’re quiet tonight. Alarmingly so.

She asks you how your day was, and you respond tersely with a simple, “Good.” She attempts to get you to elaborate, maybe share an anecdote like you usually do, but you dismiss her efforts, attributing your lack of interest in conversation to fatigue.

But Wanda can’t stand the silence. When it’s quiet, the voices in her head are even louder. 

So she decides to tell you about her day instead. She swears to herself this is the last day she’ll ever lie to you with a straight face. She talks about the final projects her students have begun submitting. As she describes her favorites, your interest particularly sharpens when she mentions the portrait projects. You pepper her with questions, mostly about who made which, and Wanda offers names that probably wouldn't mean much to you.

After you finish eating, you thank her with a small smile. It's only then that Wanda feels she can breathe again. She leans in, pressing her lips to yours, her longing evident. However, just as she tries to deepen the kiss, you pull away, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Showered without me?” you tease, but it lacks the usual lilt in your voice. She simply nods in response. You playfully tap her nose, whispering, “Naughty girl.” Then, without another word, you're on your feet and heading up the stairs to the bedroom.

She proceeds to clear the table and wash the dishes, all while the sound of the shower fills her ears. She allows herself a small smile, chiding herself for being overly affected by her dream.

By the time she makes her way up to join you, she discovers you've already drifted off, turned away from the vacant space beside you that's meant for her.

-

She’s positively shaking as she takes the short walk from the parking lot to the classroom, the dread building up inside her like a swelling storm. The thought of facing her class, and especially Vision, sends shivers down her spine. The recent events—the horrifically inappropriate advances and Vision's glaring sense of entitlement—play over and over in her mind.

Her feet eventually take her to her destination, but she remains outside for a full minute. The thought of facing Vision again is almost enough to turn her around. But another, stronger, voice reminds her of her duty, her commitment to her other students, and her own integrity. Moreover, she doesn't want to be alone today, here the haunting events with Vision could replay in her mind without any distractions. 

She pushes open the door. It appears to be a typical day, with her students clustered in small groups, engrossed in conversation and seemingly oblivious to her arrival. She swiftly surveys the room and, to her relief, doesn't spot the familiar blue eyes that usually fixate on her by this time.

When she starts her lecture on the final topic of the semester, it flows seamlessly. Still, the end of the course can't come soon enough; continuing here is untenable. She can’t keep teaching here, when these hallways keep reminding her of the mistake that almost cost her everything.

-

You've been leaving the side of your bed cold for almost two weeks now. Sometimes, your careful movements stir her awake, and she watches you, bleary-eyed, as you go through the motions of prepping for a run, a habit you've picked up quite recently. At first, Wanda would always ask where you’re headed and if she can accompany you. But you'd consistently dismiss her offer, always seeming in a rush to hit the pavement.

She thinks it’s good for you—the exercise. The only aspect of your new hobby that she dislikes is that you typically go before sunrise, where everywhere is still too dark and eerily quiet, and her imagination runs wild of all the worst things that could happen to you while you’re out on your run. 

And Wanda wouldn’t admit it, but she can't help but internalize the consistent rejection of her offers to join you.  She wonders if there's a deeper reason behind it. When you're out and she's left alone with her thoughts, Wanda can't help but let the guilt seep in. Has she become too transparent? Has something given her secret away? Did you find out about her affair? How would she even begin to explain?

But then you return after your run, with a sense of tranquility, as though the exercise had been a cathartic release of some pent-up tension. However, something still feels amiss. Perhaps it's because she hasn't slept with you since the night she discovered she wasn't pregnant with Vision's child, and all that has passed between you are brief, perfunctory kisses here and there. She wants to discuss it with you, but she doesn't want to appear too eager or guilty. Instead, she remains committed to being a good wife. And even though being a good wife was never about housework, Wanda ensures that every corner of the house sparkles and shines.

Meanwhile, you go about fulfilling your own household responsibilities seamlessly. From tending to minor repairs to ensuring that bills are paid on time, you continue with the routines that have always defined the dynamic of your relationship. There's no sign of resentment or dissatisfaction in your actions. It's almost as if everything is back to normal. This confounds Wanda even more. She starts to question her own memory, wondering if perhaps this distance, this new version of you, has always been present and she just never realized it. It's possible that you've become this way while she was preoccupied with her affair, and she didn't notice how you slowly adjusted to her unavailability. 

Of course, she only has herself to blame. She's determined, however, to rectify it and make it up to you.

Which is when the idea strikes her. The dream vacation to Hawaii that both of you often fantasized about but never took due to financial constraints and a tight schedule. With the money from her teaching job, she now has the means to turn that dream into a reality. A surprise trip might be the perfect remedy to rekindle the connection that has worn out due to your busy lives and... her unfaithfulness. 

She knows it doesn't atone for her sins, but it's a step in the right direction.

-

It should have been the perfect day for her surprises. She has two of them—the surprise trip and the news of her resignation from the university. She had just handed you the box with all the Hawaii trip details, and you were about to dive in, when there was a knock at the door. 

Two men in dark suits have arrived at the house, looking for her. Detectives—Rogers and Barnes. Wanda uncovers the real reason behind Vision's absence from school, and it wasn't due to personal family matters or a decision to pursue education elsewhere.

He's been in an accident, and they suspect foul play.

Their questions start off simple, touching on the basics. But soon, they feel like piercing arrows as they delve into the phone calls between them, how close they were, and if she ever set foot in his apartment. Throughout the interrogation, Wanda manages to keep a straight face, though deep down she knows she probably can't fool detectives of their caliber. Yet, she silently prays that you don't see past her mask.

“That’s enough,” you interject firmly. “My wife has answered your questions. Unless there’s anything else directly related to your investigation, I believe we’ve covered everything.”

Your intervention when their questions grow more intrusive suggests she's managed to keep you in the dark. The realization that you're still on her side floods her with immense relief.

“Very well. Thank you both for your time,” Rogers says.

But Wanda isn’t done. She has her own questions. She needs to know if Vision's involvement with her is the reason they're here, probing. She wonders if he might have informed the authorities about their inappropriate relationship, and if that somehow relates to his current situation.

“Wait!” Wanda exclaims, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She contemplates asking her burning questions, but with you observing from the side, she suppresses her urge to do so. Instead, she conveys her worry—she is, after all, his teacher.

“Is he… is he okay?”

Wanda's complexion turns ashen upon catching the look on Barnes' face, instantly realizing he's fully aware of her and Vision's relationship. She can barely hear Roger's response, her blood rushing in her ears.

“…that he’s stable. However, he remains in a coma. It’s uncertain when or if he’ll wake up, but let's hold onto hope.”

Oh.

Her secret's safe—for now. But she... she has to be certain. She needs to tie up any loose ends, if there are any.

-

It's reckless to visit Vision's apartment in daylight, especially right after a visit from the police.

Exiting her car, Wanda's sandals softly scrape against the ground. She pauses to scan her surroundings, her gaze flitting from one building to another. The neighboring houses and apartment complexes stand silent, their stillness almost eerie, as if they've been forsaken. She knows that not many reside in this part of the town, a fact that had made Vision's apartment an ideal hideaway for their secret meetings. 

She cautiously approaches Vision's unit, her hand shaking slightly as it reaches for the door knob: locked. A memory surges—Vision handing her a spare key during one of their early encounters. Retrieving it from her bag, she hesitantly fits it into the lock, preparing herself for what she might find beyond the door.

It opens with a muted creak, and a blanket of darkness envelops her. Hesitating at the threshold, she fumbles for a light switch, her fingers brushing against the cool wall before finding it. She'd half-expected Vision's belongings to be packed up, perhaps by a landlord who wanted to move on from the situation. But everything appears untouched, as if frozen in time; dust hasn't settled, and the items scattered about give no indication that the place has been vacant for weeks. It occurs to her that the ongoing investigation might be the reason the apartment remains untouched.

Wanda moves quickly, knowing she shouldn’t linger. Heading straight to the bathroom, she swiftly gathers her toothbrush and a few other personal items she had left behind. As she emerges, her gaze is drawn to the corner where Vision's easel stands. It used to hold a portrait of her, a work he'd wanted to submit for his final project, capturing her in a light she had never seen herself. But now, it’s empty.

A cold rush of panic seizes her. She clutches the edge of a table, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Had Vision decided to move the painting for some reason? Or worse, had the detectives seen it and taken it as evidence? The painting wasn’t just art; it was tangible evidence of their affair. 

But then, in the midst of her mounting fear, a memory jolts her—there was another painting, the one Vision had purchased from the gallery where she used to work. With a newfound urgency, she hurries to his bedroom. The scene is disarrayed, with sheets and pillows strewn about. Ignoring the mess, Wanda goes directly to the cabinet where she remembered he last stored it. She yanks open the doors, and her eyes dart around, searching, but the painting is nowhere to be found.

Desperation grips her. If the detectives come across either painting, they'd have more reasons to scrutinize her further than she's comfortable with. Such involvement would be near-impossible to hide from you. Wanda proceeds with caution, scanning the apartment for any lingering items that could connect her to Vision. Unexpectedly, she finds a piece of her lingerie nestled within his sock drawer. Swiftly, she snatches it up. Before departing, she meticulously wipes away any fingerprints from the surfaces she's touched, then dashes to her car. 

Once inside, she pauses to draw several deep, steadying breaths. It's overwhelming to think that this is now her reality, teetering on the brink of exposure.

-

She eventually finds herself falling off the edge when she discovers Natasha’s email on your laptop, mere moments after the crushing realization that you hadn’t bothered to open her gift.

Her instinct is to craft a lie. She searches her mind rapidly, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for the intimate handhold. Maybe she could say it was an old friend from the past, or perhaps a distressed student she was comforting. But one glance at the photo and she knows, deep down, that any excuse would fall flat. The way Vision looks at her, with such unmistakable affection and wonder, betrays any innocence she might claim. Trying to explain this to you or anyone else would be an exercise in futility. 

Wanda had played out various scenarios in her mind about how you might discover the truth, but she never imagined it would be through seeking the expertise of your best friend. It was perhaps naive, but she had hoped you wouldn’t notice anything or, if you did, that you'd confront her about it.

But why would you come to her? She's been pushing you away for months, and the only time she truly showed you how much you mean to her was when she was so relieved that she wouldn't be carrying the consequences of her indiscretions in her womb.

In case you need them, the subject of the email says. Need them for what? Wanda wonders. From the way Natasha worded the message accompanying the photos, it doesn't appear you're just discovering the truth now.

No, it seems that you’ve known for a while. Which means—

The pieces fall into place, a chilling realization creeping over her. Wanda's breath catches as she pushes the laptop away, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. The way you had carried yourself, especially around the police—it was far too serene, too measured. When they mentioned Vision's name, you didn't so much as flinch or even show a flicker of surprise.

Her heart beats painfully against her ribs. The calm demeanor, the calculated way you’d been moving about—it wasn't out of ignorance. You knew. And for how long? The thought terrifies her. How many days or weeks has she been living this lie while you watched, silently knowing everything?

Your silence, amplifying her betrayal, eats away at her conscience. The quiet before the storm, she thinks. And she's right in the middle of it.

-

“Wanda?”

She’s hiding in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror, practicing a smile and a thousand more expressions even though she's barely holding it together.

“Wanda.”

She couldn't shake the thought of you knowing. Did you have any involvement in Vision's accident? You've never intentionally hurt even the smallest creature, let alone another human being, right?

“Wanda!” 

She nearly leaps out of her skin as the bathroom door slams open, and you stare back at her, looking just as startled and taken aback.

“Hey,” she says, forcing a smile.

You narrow your eyes at her, and she shivers under your intense scrutiny.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in here for almost an hour.”

Wanda nods quickly. “I'm fine.”

You continue to watch her for a moment, before saying, “Alright.”

Just as you're about to step away, Wanda remembers the plans for later. “About the dinner tonight,” she starts hesitantly, “with your colleagues from the bank... should we cancel?”

She's desperately hoping you'd say yes. She can't bear not knowing what's going on in your mind. The way you act as if everything's normal is suffocating her. Does she even still know the real you? Every moment you're not cursing her out or confronting her betrayal feels like an eternity.

But you shake your head. “No, let's do it. We already promised them.”

Wanda's heart sinks a little, but she nods in understanding.

“I'll go grab some wine real quick,” you say before leaving the bathroom, leaving Wanda alone once again with her thoughts.

-

Later, as the last of the guests leave, she's certain you've picked up on her distress, noticing how you kept glancing at your watch and drifting out of conversations. She senses your gaze on her as she escorts Scott and his wife to the car, acutely aware you're observing her every move from the bedroom window. 

Though they're older than both you and Wanda, they've only been hitched for two years. Wanda can't help but wonder if maybe things are smoother for them because they waited to get married. But then a familiar warmth washes over her. The memory of how deeply in love she was with you surfaces. Even if you had waited six years to propose, she’s sure that had you suggested it within the first few months of dating, she would've said yes in a heartbeat. 

Truth be told, she doesn't regret it now, the timing of it, and everything in between.

All she's uncertain of is how tonight will unfold.

-

The house lies shrouded in an inky stillness, almost like it’s holding its breath. She carefully climbs the stairs to the bedroom you both share, one uncertain step at a time. The door is slightly open, and you're standing by the window, your silhouette thin and brittle. 

“What happened, Y/N?” she asks as she stops a few feet from you. Your eyes are closed, and your body trembles. Though she should be consumed by fear, her only desire is for you to open your eyes, hoping to find the person she fell in love with over a decade ago still there. 

“What did you do? Did you cause his ��accident’?” she continues. But you remain silent, unmoving.  “Y/N?”

Still, nothing. Wanda is slowly but surely losing her sanity.

“Did you hurt him? You did, didn’t you? Jesus, Y/N. Talk to me,” Wanda pleads, and then out of desperation she screams, “Tell me what you did!”

“No!” You roar with a primal intensity, reminiscent of a wounded animal in the wild, and the sheer force of it makes Wanda recoil. But she doesn't move away from you. Not at this crucial moment, when she senses how close she is to losing you. “You tell me what you did!”

You stalk towards her menacingly, until you're mere breaths away, and Wanda wants to reach out and touch you, but she knows she'll be burned.

“How you fucked him over and over and over! How you lied to me… over and over and over,” you tell her brokenly.

“Y/N, please–” 

“Don’t. You don’t get to talk to me now,” you say, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. “You didn’t think I’d know? I wouldn’t feel it? I knew from the very first night. Because I know you, Wanda. Every thought. Every look. Every fiber of your being. I know you and I fucking hate you! I didn’t want to hurt him, I wanted to hurt you!”

The confirmation she's been dreading, along with the murderous glint in your eyes, saps the color from Wanda’s face. “Oh my god,” she chokes out, hand clamping over her mouth in horror. “Y/N…”

You try to walk away, but your legs give out, and you crumple to the ground, knees first, like a puppet with its strings cut. The tears flow freely now, unburdened by pride or anger. A raw, guttural sob escapes your lips, echoing the pain in your chest. Wanda, too, collapses, a mirror reflection of your despair, her body shaking as sobs rack her frame.

How could she have ever been afraid of you, especially knowing what you've been through? Beneath it all, she sees the woman she deeply loves, now appearing so fragile and torn apart, all because of her own mistakes. “I'm so sorry...” she whispers, her apology a mere drop in the ocean of hurt between you.

“Was there anyone else aside from him?” you ask suddenly, looking at the carpeted floor before you.

“No,” Wanda answers earnestly.

You offer a wry smile. “He must be really special then.”

She frantically shakes her head. He's not. No one is. It's always been—

“Do you love him?”

“No,” Wanda responds hastily, almost too hastily for your taste. And by the look on your face, she's crushed by the realization that no matter what she says next, your trust in her words may be irrevocably broken. “I thought I did, but no,” she admits. She can't bear the thought of deceiving you further and aims to leave no question unanswered.

“Did you…” you start, staring intently at the ceiling, and Wanda knows exactly what you’re asking even before it comes out of your mouth. The fact that you have to ask leaves her utterly heartbroken. 

“...ever love me?”

This was her doing. The very second she acted on impulse and succumbed to temptation was when she truly lost you.

“I love you,” Wanda murmurs, her tear-filled eyes meeting yours, stubborn for her words to reach you. “I know how fucked up that sounds to you right now. But I do, I love you, Y/N.”

“You love me?” your voice falters, making you wince. “You have a truly unique way of showing it.”

How does she prove it? How can she make you believe? Wanda scrambles for tactics, for miracles, for a do-over.

“After all this,” you continue, “you might as well have killed me. Being dead might be painless compared to this.”

“Baby, please don't say that,” Wanda's voice breaks, choked by tears she can't hold back. She feels the urge to reach out, her fingers itching to touch you. 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore. Even hearing you say my name makes me sick.” Your voice is steady, each word dripping with cold resentment.

“You can stay,” you say after a while. Wanda senses a fragile hint of hope blossoming within her. But it's quickly crushed when you add, “Stay in this house, for as long as you need. But I'm leaving.”

And it’s here where the panic sets in. The realization that she's on the brink of losing you entirely, not just emotionally but physically as well, hits Wanda like a freight train. The walls of the room seem to close in on her, and the weight of her decisions and mistakes press heavily on her shoulders, making her feel as if she's sinking.

“No,” she whispers. “Please, don't go.”

You start to slide your wedding ring off, and that’s when Wanda loses it. She launches herself at you, capturing your lips into a heated kiss. In the split-second it takes for the golden loop to slip off your finger, a flood of memories rushes over Wanda—the scent of rain as it patters on the roof of the reception, the song playing in the background as you and Wanda sway to your first dance as a married couple, the warmth of your hand intertwined with hers. Those fragments play in a demented, rapid slideshow, and time stretches and contracts, maddeningly so.

For Wanda, it feels like someone's drilled a hole in the base of her skull, letting all the sorrow rush in like a merciless flood. Everything else is white noise. For that brief instant when her lips slot against yours, you don’t push her away. Wanda pours everything she has into this kiss, hoping you'll feel her truth in it. But then, before she even has the chance to deepen it, you’re pulling away and it’s—

It’s over.

Stubborn as always, Wanda tries to hide in your neck, and you feel her tears sliding down your throat. She clings to you with all her might, holding on for as long as she can. But when she feels you gently place your wedding ring into her palm, her face crumples with a pain so profound, she knows she may never recover from it. And then you begin to rise, lifting yourself from the floor. As she instinctively clings to your leg, you take another step, causing Wanda to stumble forward from the sudden loss of support.

“This can't be the end. It just can't,” Wanda murmurs to herself like a mantra, as if repeating it will change the course of reality. She's almost certain you hear her, but it doesn't change your stride; you just keep walking away.

The ring burns in her palm, a searing reminder that her promise of loving and cherishing you always means nothing to you now.

-

Wanda can't quite figure out how, but you've chosen to remain in the guest bedroom for the evening. She'd heard the engine of your car roar to life, but then it fell silent after just a few moments. Peering out, she’d seen you stepping out of the car, phone pressed to your ear.

Who had you been talking to? An intense curiosity had consumed Wanda, making her wonder who had been on the other end of that call. In the short window they'd been estranged—no, just temporarily separated, because Wanda refused to believe that you'd entirely lost your affection for her—could there have been someone else? Someone waiting in line for their turn?

Now, she stands hesitantly in front of the guest bedroom door, hands clenched in her sides,  torn between giving you space and continuing to fight for her marriage. She's torn, but not clueless. It's not just about barging in or holding back; it's about the aftermath. She stands there, frozen, trying to figure out which move won't blow everything to smithereens. Because the time she has with you is running out and there might not be a tomorrow. 

Or a you and her. Ever again.

Wanda finally sinks to the floor, her back flush against the cold, indifferent wood of the door. Sparky, pads over, his little claws making almost no sound against the floor. He nestles himself on her lap, making his bed there for the night. She wraps her fingers around his soft fur, his warmth seeping into her, but his presence is a double-edged sword. As much as she adores him, he's going to be the only thing of you she gets to keep, and it's going to be a painful reminder from here on out.

In an act of despair, she presses an ear flat against the door, searching for the tiniest murmur, the faintest shuffle. Anything to tell her what's happening on the other side of this barrier. A barrier that was never there before. She's on the outside, and the thought that you're moving on, building a life sans her, is terrifying.

It's a cruel irony, she realizes.  Here she is, just a few inches from you, yet completely and utterly in the dark. And so, she sits, hoping against hope, that at some point during the night, she'd hear the door creak open, and you’d scoop her in your arms and take her back.

She waits, because that's what love does—it waits, even in the darkest of times.

-

The next morning, Wanda wakes up, surprised to find herself in a bed instead of on the hard, cold floor. She doesn't recall making the trip, but the idea that you cared enough to ensure she slept on something warm and comfortable almost makes her heart leap out of her chest. 

However, her happiness is short-lived as she opens the closet and discovers that some of your things are missing. To a stranger, the differences wouldn't be obvious, but she knows which shirt and trousers you chose, and she understands the implication. It means you won't be returning tonight, and perhaps not tomorrow either. When she goes to the bathroom, she finds only one toothbrush, and that's enough to make tears well up in her swollen eyes once more.

-

“Thanks for picking up,” Wanda says, her fingers gripping the phone tight, holding onto it like she’s drowning and it’s her only lifeline.

“Well, you've called enough times. Figured I'd give you a break,” Natasha's voice, though distant, is biting, as frigid as the coldness that Wanda has been feeling in her bones these past days.

“I need to know where she is. Please.”

A sigh on the other end, followed by a chilling silence. “You think after everything, you still have the right to know her whereabouts?”

“She's still my wife,” Wanda counters, but it’s weak.

“She was your wife,” Natasha fires back, unrelenting. “The last I checked, people who love their partners don't sleep with college kids.”

The words hit Wanda harder than any physical blow could. She's taken aback, gasping for air as if she's been sucker-punched.

“I—”

“She loved you,” Natasha continues ruthlessly, “more than you ever deserved. And you threw it away, for what? Some fleeting thrill?”

Loved? Past tense? Had Natasha just assumed—

Or was that word coming directly from you?

Pushing down the slightest twinge of sympathy that threatens to surface, Natasha picks up on Wanda's faint, broken breaths on the other end. She can tell Wanda's on the verge, and it's familiar, too familiar.  It's almost exactly the sound she caught when she was on the phone with you the other night.

“I never meant for this to happen,” Wanda barely manages to say.

“Well, it did,” Natasha snaps, her voice cold. “Intentions don’t change actions. And actions have consequences.”

Wanda’s voice comes off a little strong this time, thick with conviction. “Maybe I deserve this, Natasha. Maybe it’s my time to pay for all the wrongs I’ve done.”

“You think?” Natasha scoffs.

“But you... you’ll never get it. You’ll never understand why I can’t just let go, why I can’t give up on her,” Wanda says.

“And why’s that?”

Wanda's voice trembles with the knowledge that what she's about to say is a cheap blow.  “Because you've never been married. You've never committed yourself to someone in the way I have with her.”

That stings, and Natasha can feel her own anger rising.

“Don’t think for a second that just because I’m not married, I don’t understand commitment, pain, or betrayal,” she says, voice low and measured.

Wanda swallows hard. “I didn't mean to—”

“Of course you didn't. But here we are, yet again,” Natasha cuts her off. She sighs, leaning back in her chair, “I’m not telling you where she is. She needs time, Wanda. Time away from you. If she wants to talk, she’ll find you.”

That's the last thing Wanda wants. She worries that distance will solidify your resolve, turning her from an immediate regret to a distant afterthought.

“I need to see her, Natasha,” Wanda pleads, “Just tell me where she is.”

“Why? So you can make things even worse?”

After a tense pause, Wanda plays her last card, “Remember that night after we all went out? The night you and Bruce...” she trails off, not needing to complete the sentence.

Natasha stiffens, instantly knowing where this is headed. “Don’t you dare, Wanda.”

Wanda forges on, “I never told anyone, never used it against you. I kept your secret. You owe me, Natasha.”

The feeling of Bruce's hand against her cheek, the humiliation, the denial—all of it comes rushing back. She never thought Wanda would throw that night back in her face.

“You're really going there?” Natasha laughs hollowly. 

“I’m desperate, Natasha. I love her. I can’t lose her,” Wanda’s voice breaks.

The line goes quiet, stretching seconds into what seems like hours. Finally, Natasha exhales heavily, the weight of the decision clear in her tone. “I'll give you an address. Show up, try to talk to her, but if she asks you to leave, you respect her wishes. Understand?”

Wanda swallows dryly. She knows Natasha can enforce her terms if she wants, which means she has no other choice but to comply. “Understood.”

Natasha's parting words would later linger in her mind for hours.

“This doesn't mean I've forgiven you or that she ever will. But you get your shot. Make it count.”

-

Wanda’s been standing outside the diner for what feels like a long time. She hopes her outfit—a parka over a crisp white v-neck and high-waisted jeans—makes a good impression. A glance in the reflection of the diner’s window confirms her red hair looks glossy and radiant, cascading in waves down her back.

Time and time again, Wanda had turned over every conceivable strategy to win you back. But in the end, they all hinged on the one thing she feared most: agreeing to a divorce. The very thought threatened to break her from the inside, but her desperation to make things right, to show you that she's changed, made this painful decision a necessary one. Wanda had taken so much from you, taken everything you had to offer and discarded it carelessly. Now, it was her turn to give something back, even if it meant letting you go, legally.

She tells herself, repeatedly, that their love story isn't defined by a marriage certificate. They won't end just because their marriage does.  She had to believe this; it was the only way she could find the strength to move forward. 

Steeling herself, Wanda takes one step forward. Another. Until finally, she’s there.

“Hey,” Wanda greets, doing her best to sound casual as she slides into the booth opposite you.

You give a nonchalant nod, mouth full of your Reuben sandwich. “Hi, Wanda.”

The scent of your cologne is the first thing that hits her, and it’s... different. This one's sharper, crisper, with a hint of citrus, perhaps. It's as if you're purposely shedding parts of yourself that she's grown accustomed to, distancing yourself in the most elemental ways. There's a new watch on your wrist, sleeker than the one she gifted you on your last anniversary. Even the way you hold yourself seems altered, shoulders squared and posture more rigid. Every detail screams of a transformation, a conscious effort to morph into someone she wouldn't recognize. 

But why? To hurt her? To move on? To forget? All of the above? It's been just a week, yet the differences are already evident. Wanda dreads to think how much more will change if she goes months without seeing you.

This isn’t going to be easy, and that’s putting it mildly. “Sorry for cornering you like this. You rarely return my calls and it’s been almost impossible to match our schedules,” Wanda admits.

You concentrate on chewing your food, trying to appear perfectly disinterested in what she’s saying. As you take another bite of your sandwich, Wanda studies her intently, looking for any fleeting sign of emotion, but there’s nothing there but a chilling detachment.

“Natasha told me you’re already talking to divorce lawyers,” she continues. She's woken up next to you for more than a decade; she’s not easily deterred by the display of indifference. “If you’re decided that it’s what you really want, then I’ll give it to you. I’ll cooperate.”

“Okay.” 

Wanda notices the fleeting moment your eyes dart to her left ring finger before you quickly look away.

“I, uh, got something for you,” she says. 

“No, thanks.” 

Wanda’s heart sinks as you dismiss her before even knowing what it is. Determined, she pulls out the small ring box and places it on the table, feeling a pang in her chest. “But it belongs to you,” she murmurs.

“What’s this?”

“It’s your wedding ring,” she says, pointing out what you already know. Your expression darkens, frustrated that she misses the underlying meaning of your question—not about the ring itself, but rather its significance right now.

For a split second, Wanda harbored a fragile hope that seeing the ring might stir something within you. 

But then you're shaking your head, beginning to say, “I don’t want—”

“I understand,” she says, her shoulders sagging as she leans back into the booth. “But I'm returning it to you, and I’m keeping mine. What you decide to do with it is up to you. However, holding onto it on your behalf isn't something I can do.”

The ring she slipped onto your finger five years ago held all her promises, all her devotion to you. So it hurt that you no longer accepted that, no longer recognized it as yours. And she didn't want to be the guardian of that pain anymore.

“Fine,” you say, reaching for the tiny box and Wanda releases a heavy sigh of relief.

“So, you've got your ring back, and I'll sign the divorce papers once they're drawn up,” she says, mustering all her courage for what she's going to say next. “And then, I'll come for you.”

She watches in surprise as you nearly spit out your coffee, a few droplets escaping past your lips. As you hurriedly reach for a napkin, Wanda can't help but offer a gentle smile, always finding your occasional clumsiness endearing even in the middle of breaking her heart.

Your wide-eyed stare meets hers, speechless.

Her smile fades slightly, replaced by a melancholic self-awareness. “I didn’t want to believe you when you told me that night that you hated me. But I guess that’s better than indifference.” 

“I don't hate you, Wanda,” you say. She can tell you're telling the truth, and she smiles a little at that.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” she laments. “Thank you.”

She takes a deep breath, knowing she needs to be clear, to lay everything on the table. “I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. On us. What we have, and I’ve thought a lot about it, is something I’ll never find in another.”

“I’m not telling you this to get a reaction out of you,” she continues, “I know you’re not exactly thrilled at the idea of me pursuing you, but,” she falters, the first sign of her vulnerability. “This time, I want you to know everything. I don’t want you to be blindsided by my intentions, so I’m giving you a heads-up.” 

“Wands,” you say, the nickname slipping effortlessly from your lips, and she has to fight the instinctual urge to reach for your hand across the table. “You can’t torture yourself like this.” 

“I’m not,” she assures you. “I just refuse to give up on my dream.” She senses the skepticism in your eyes, and she can't blame you, not after everything that happened in the recent weeks. You’re my dream, Wanda had confidently and lovingly written in her vows. The memory of that day, with the weight of those words, is as vivid in your mind as it is in hers.

She's always been the type to hold onto what she loves, never letting go without a fight. But seeing the dark circles under your eyes, the sunken weight of your cheeks, she knows the very sight of her is taking a toll on you. And so, she’s leaving, for your sake. 

“I'll see you soon,” Wanda says, getting up to leave. She hesitates for a moment, considering whether to go for your cheek, if you'll allow her. However, the lack of response from you pushes her to take small, shaky steps toward the door and out of the restaurant.

It isn’t over. Wanda’s made up her mind: she won't give up on you. Maybe she's the villain in this story; and hell, there's probably someone out there, all primed and polished, perfectly poised to love you without the scars and rough edges. Except, she doesn’t care, even if she knows she’ll be diving headfirst into the storm. 

She swears that someday she'll be on her knees, asking you to marry her again.

[websterss]

TRUST ME (1) — COLE WALTER

SUMMARY: All he wanted to do was help you overcome your fear of riding a horse by yourself, he would have never gone through with it, if he knew the outcome.

WARNING(S): some fluff, pure angst

WORD COUNT: 4,138

PAIRING: Cole Walter x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

A strange tension lingered between you and Cole after you moved in a few months ago. You had gotten along with the other boys and Parker just fine, but as soon as you came along, it was as though Cole wanted nothing to do with you, or perhaps didn’t know what to do with you around, You had no clue what this tension was based off on, but it had made every encounter awkward. It didn’t help he was always trying to be a flirt too.

Standing near the entrance of the horse stables inside the barn, you watched as Cole fed and took general care of Custard. 

"You wanna ride?" Cole then asked in a nonchalant tone, gaze flickering over to you with a light smirk before turning back to the horse.

“Me? Oh uh…no. Not by myself. I’ve only ridden on the back with someone back home. But I’m too scared to take the reins. Plus I think that horses are the only animals that don’t like me very much.”

Cole laughed at the notion of horses not liking you. He merely hummed in response, stroking Custard once more while he seemed eager to be fed. 

This was the first time you hadn’t felt the awkwardness fill a space with Cole and you couldn't quite explain why it felt comfortable. 

He then turned his gaze to you for a moment, before speaking up once more. “Who’ve you ridden with before?”

“My cousins from my mom's side of the family. They have their ranches so I’ve been lucky enough to say that I’ve been on a horse. Though I can’t say the same about being in full control of one.”

"Wanna try?" He asked gesturing to the horse. The edge to the question sounded a bit teasing.

“Oh no, I couldn’t!” You laugh putting your hands out. “I more than likely will fall off out of pure panic.”

"Afraid he'll buck?" He said, the edge in his tone playful again. "It's not too hard– I promise." He then turned to you, with a slight smirk on his face. "Hope it’s not me that you're not scared of, are you?" He asked.

“You? No…Custard, maybe.” You glance up at the beautiful creature

"He's one of our nice horses. Never nipped at a person in his whole life. Can't say he’s never not bucked off anyone but…You'll be fine." He said with a smirk. "That…and aside from a couple of scratches from his hooves when you try to get on, but trust me you'll be 100% fine. How about it? Come on- I dare you."

“Dare me. How comforting.” You wince as you try to take his reins but he moves causing you to back up. 

“Woah!” Cole says. “Seems like Custard here got agitated by your approach.” Cole himself took a step back with a slight grimace in your direction. “Looks like he really doesn't like you." He breathed out a laugh, turning his back towards you once more. At the same time, you couldn't help but see a tinge of disappointment in his eyes upon failing to coax you to try mounting the horse.

“It’s fine Cole. We can do this some other time, yeah? It’s getting late anyway. Besides, Custard doesn’t seem to enjoy being in my presence so much right now.” You gave a slight grimace.

Cole took a breath in and out but didn’t turn to face you, instead took to stroking Custard before sighing quietly. "We'll see about that," He said with faint certainty as he took ahold of the reins in one hand. "You stay right there." He then turned to Custard, who seemed to calm down a little bit as Cole moved beside him, stroking his mane.

“What are you doing?”

"Getting him more used to you." He said with confidence, moving around the horse with a soft hand. "Don’t worry, he’ll forget you even reached for his reins while scared in the next couple of minutes– he'll start loving you. I promise." He then turned back to you with another teasing smirk.

“I don’t know about that...” You chuckled nervously as he walked him over to where you stood. You made a noise as Custard was only an arm's length away.

"Trust me." He said confidently as he held the reins tight. With your reluctance though, Custard only became more agitated with each step he took closer towards you. He whinnied slightly and stomped his hoof. Cole still had his eyes on you, however– seeing your nervous expression.

“Cole I’m only making things worse-“ You shook your head as Custard stomped his hoof again.

"Trust me..." He repeated as he continued to walk up Custard towards you whilst remaining cautious in his movements.

By this point, Custard's ears were pinned backward, and was quite vocal in his disliking of you  All of a sudden, the horse turned to face you as his nostrils flared. Your heart sank as he started thrashing his head wildly. 

“Cole…” You held your hands out in front of you. Your eyes widened as he dragged his hoof like he was getting reading to charge at you.

Cole's eyebrows furrowed as he gripped the reins tighter, staring at you as Custard tried to take a step forward– almost charging at you.

"Quit backing up. That is the worst thing you can do right now–” He said, his tone stern. 

Custard then proceeded to take another step forward, but this time Cole was ready as he blocked the horse's legs– keeping him in place.

“Don’t move, just stay calm.” You froze like a statue, waiting on Cole for his word. 

He then let out a breath of relief as Custard stopped huffing towards you. He stared at you for a moment. “You okay over there?" He asked, looking at you with genuine concern now. Custard on the other hand seemed to be calming down by the minute, turning to face Cole as he continued to pet him.

“Okay? Yeah, I’m great…other than the fact your horse just tried to charge me!”

Cole's gaze became a bit sharp at the sarcasm. He rolled his eyes. "He didn't– He didn’t charge at you. I’d never let that happen. Now, if you can stop being all sarcastic– that would be great." He said in a rather blunt manner, as he then moved to face you. At this point, Custard had calmed down and was just watching you with curious eyes.

You looked down at your shoes. Feeling stupid for being scared. Maybe you read the creature's body language wrong, then again how would you know? You knew nothing about them. You hadn’t meant to make Custard agitated.

"Look at him..." He said firmly, as Custard seemed to be waiting for you to just give him a chance. "See? He’s doing nothing wrong. He just got scared by your approach, that's all." He then sighed heavily in your direction. "You wanna know how I got him to love me?” 

You shifted your gaze onto him. “H-How?” 

“By giving him the time of day."

“Really?” You eased up.

"Yes really. I was like you. I was scared of him in the beginning. Now he’s my favorite one out of all our horses."

He moved towards you with Custard, reaching out for your hand to bring you closer to the horse. Custard immediately got a little more agitated as he stared at you.

"Look– He won't bite. I promise. He's just scared, like you. Just stroke his mane for a bit." He said, his voice firm and reassuring. Custard continued watching you suspiciously.

“Okay.” You nodded.

He then let your hand go and stood to the side to observe you and Custard. You hadn’t even realized he walked away leaving you two alone. Custard was still looking at you with a curious stare, though that all seemed to melt away upon you finally stroking his mane. The horse then seemed to relax and started lowering his head, seeming almost grateful for the pets.

You breathe out a laugh. Then turn around to look at Cole finding him standing at a further distance from you two. He watched your eyes grow slightly. Shaking his head. “You’re okay! You’re doing good, just breathe.”

You continued to slowly stroke Custard's mane, as he seemed more comfortable with you now.

Slowly, he started to take a few steps in your direction, as you were finally able to reach out and stroke his side. He even seemed to enjoy it. As you moved closer, you could see that Custard was quite a fluffy friendly creature. 

Cole continued to stand to the side, slightly amused by your initial fear as Custard continued to relax under your touch. He found himself not being able to avoid smiling but didn't want to distract you from this moment.

Custard continued to enjoy the attention with his large brown eyes locked onto you, as he lowered his head further.

Cole stared at you in mild amazement. He did not expect you to get this far with Custard considering his attempts to get you to mount the horse. Though it was pretty obvious he was impressed. After a couple of more strokes, Custard let out a happy whinny. He kept staring at you once you stopped, almost as if waiting for you to continue.

"I told you…He's quite nice once you give him a chance." Cole said, stepping closer with a slight smirk.

“You’re not so bad after all…” You muttered softly to the horse. You stroked his hair. A smile adorning your lips. 

The horse now started shifting his head, as he leaned into your hand– wanting more. Cole had walked up to you by now, giving Custard a quick stroke as he happily let out a whinny.

"There. See?" He asked, seemingly pleased with this development.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

He let out a low hum and leaned back, watching Custard for a second before staring at you again.

"Want to try riding him now?" He smirked.

“Oh um…” You look back to the horse. Then back to Cole. “You know what…yeah, I would actually.” You offer a small smile.

He nodded and walked towards Custard- holding the reigns of the horse once more.

"Just stay there. I'll get him ready." He moved Custard beside you and started fiddling with the saddle and whatnot. Custard kept watching you with curious eyes and then turned to Cole when he called his name.

You nodded back with a smile. Watching as he moved around the stables with ease.

After a few minutes, Cole had finished setting up the saddle. He then turned to you as Custard looked at you once more.

"You ready?" He asked and you would have noticed that the smirk finally left him as he took off his hat and handed it to you. He wanted to make sure you'd be comfortable riding the horse.

Custard still kept staring at you, though his eyes were no longer suspicious— and seemed happy to see Cole's attention now turned to help you get on him.

“Yeah…” You nodded. “So do I just hold onto here?” You pointed to a spot on the saddle. He nodded and came closer to you.

"Just hold this handle here, and put one foot inside this stirrup. I'll do the rest." He said as he came right up to you and helped you up on Custard, pushing against your bottom to lift you up. He pulled on the saddle straps, and stirrups, making sure you were comfortable and safe. Once you got comfortable, he stepped back and smiled at you again.

"You ready now?" He asked again, though his voice was no longer teasing. It was reassuring.

“Yeah.” He then grabbed the reins and led Custard out the barn doors and toward the training area as he watched you out of the side of his eyes. Custard, of course, seemed quite happy to have you on his back as you went out.

By now, you felt much more comfortable on Custard's back as you held his reins tightly in your hands. He continued to walk around freely, watching Cole every so often.

"You ready to speed up? Or should we take it slow?" He asked you, his eyes still locked onto you as you rode along the fence.

“Speed up?” Your eyes widened. “We just started Cole.” He hummed thoughtfully, as Custard seemed to be getting a little bored from walking at a pace so slow.

"We can take it faster than this for sure. I'll be beside you– nothing will happen." He then looked at you with a reassuring expression and gave Custard a bit of a nudge. "Just take it easy with the reins, alright? All you have to do is hold them tight."

“Okay…okay. I can do this.”

"That's the spirit, you got this!" The horse then trotted forward a little bit faster now, as Cole watched you.

Custard breathed out, as if sighing and testing and judging your experience as a rider, digging his hoofs into the dirt, as though he was trying to indulge how you would react to him now picking up the pace.

“Cole. He’s going faster!” You exclaim. 

He looked at you with an amused expression as Custard started trotting faster and faster. "Just hold on to the reins! It's fine." He said, his voice now being firm and certain.

Custard then suddenly picked up even more pace, going much faster as if challenging you to keep up and take control. You held tight to the reins but in the blink of a second. Panic flooded your mind.

You looked back in Cole's direction, who was still following you with a calm expression before he suddenly spoke up again- trying to guide you towards keeping up with Custard.

"Slow his pace. Just grip the reins tightly and look straightforward. Then, pull the reins back in your direction to make him slow down." He explained as Custard was going even faster.

It was too much to comprehend. Everything was happening so fast that you ended up pulling at his reins instead of gripping them.

Custard seemed to get agitated by this, almost like he could sense your fear. The horse's hooves seemed to be tapping against the ground quicker and quicker now as if you were not quite fast enough to control him. You could do nothing but hold on for dear life as Custard tried to go against the pull of his reins as fast as he could.

“What are you guys doing out this late?” You both turned towards the new voice that started approaching from the house. It had been Alex. Upon the distraction, your grip had loosened on the reins and Custard took this as his chance to throw you off him. You gasped as you fell backwards, your heart sank. Then nothing. Your head colliding with the ground hard first, your shoulder, then your body colliding down next, rendering you unconscious.

“Cole!” Alex yelled running towards you. Having seen you get thrown off. 

Cole was instantly startled by this whole scenario, feeling a sudden panic as he whipped his head around to the thump his ears caught. He looked to Custard who was whinnying away, dread hitting him not seeing you on his back, his face falling as soon as he saw your body on the ground. He held his breath. 

“Y-Y/n.” He called out. Upon realizing you were unresponsive his panic seemed to melt into worry and terror. He was at your side in the blink of an eye, running and falling on his knees hard against the dirt. He knelt pressing his ear against your nose, you were still breathing. 

"A-Alex go get Mom and Dad!" Cole yelled immediately, as he tried to shake you awake, patting against your face to try and get a response from you. When he cradled your head, dread hit him when he pulled his hand away, drops of red staining his fingertips. His breathing hitched. Alex stared wide-eyed, trying to gather his head at the scene before him. When he made no move to go, Cole yelled again, his voice cracking. “Alex! G-Go get Mom and Dad! Go get Mom and Dad now! Go—” He didn't seem to hear a thing as he shook you frantically to try and wake you up. “Y/n– I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, oh god please!” He pleaded, his vision getting blurry from the tears. 

“H-Holy shit!” Alex tripped over his feet as he turned back around and ran for the house. Yell as loud as he could to alert his family. “Mom! Dad! Dad!” Cole heard Alex hear in the distance. 

You remained unconscious as Cole patted against your cheek. His dad and mom ran over after having been awoken by hearing their son scream bloody murder. He watched as Cole tugged you into his arms rocking you back and forth. They had only ever seen him in such a state after his football career was over.

His dad, upon approaching, looked at Cole in complete and utter horror as they both looked at your unconscious body and the horse now trotting next to you both. “She won’t wake up. S-She won’t wake up!” Cole shook his head. 

"What the hell happened?" George asked, looking from Cole to the horse and back to you once more. Cole started to talk, but he still seemed much more focused on you than he was talking to his dad.

"Custard threw her off, Dad. It was bad. She hit head first." Alex hurt in. 

“Oh my god!” Katherine knelt before Cole. Squeezing his shoulder as she took note of the red on his hands. 

“What have I told you boys about riding at night? The horses are supposed to be in their stalls. No riding after dark, that’s our rules, Cole you know this– You two were supposed to be sleeping!” His dad sighed running a hand down his face. “Okay, we gotta go. Alex, go get my keys now.” 

“I know. I know Dad– She just wanted to ride him okay? Who was I to say no to her?” He laughed but it hadn’t reached his eyes. “I thought I could get her used to Custard…” He looked down at you in his arms. Gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hands. “This is all my fault…”

“Let’s worry about whose fault it was after we get her to the hospital, sound good? Can you pick her up?” Cole nodded in response, looking up at his dad with a solemn gaze, before looking back down at you.

Custard was being stopped by Alex, taking hold of his reins. Looking between his parents and you in Cole’s arms. Cole kept stroking your cheek, begging whoever would hear his silent plea to be able to see your eyes again.

"It was supposed to be harmless and simple..." He said quietly. "Not sure what went wrong...I don't think I've ever seen Custard do that before..."

“Sweetie…” Cole looked up at his mom. “We gotta move quick with this okay, before any more serious issues come up. Let’s go get her help.” Cole held a slight frown as he agreed, he inhaled deeply before sliding his arms underneath your back and legs. With a grunt, he slowly stood up. His mom placed your dangling arm against your chest, brushing back hairs that swept your face. 

He looked down at you thinking how you looked so peaceful as you were unconscious. Yet, something told him that you were probably having quite the nightmare right about now. He felt bad that his attempt at trying to help you overcome your horse-riding phobia had ended up like this. Though, to be honest, he hated the way it ended up like this. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. 

Cole looked up at his mother, before looking at you with what seemed to be a guilty look. 

“Come on Cole.” She ushered him forward towards the truck his dad drove up to the front of the house. She turned towards the rest of the party now all waiting at the steps of the porch. She opened up the back door for Cole to let you two in. Danny mostly. “You’re in charge until we get back. Make sure Alex puts Custard away alright.” He nodded, not arguing. 

“Is she gonna die?” Lee asked. Solemn written all over his face. 

“Let’s not think like that right now okay? I’ll call when we have more information.” Katherine sighed and shut the door behind Cole where he sat in the back with you. 

Cole looked up at his dad through the mirror and then down at you. “Please be okay,” Cole whispered to you. Katherine and George looked at one another solemnly as they listened to their son. “I won’t forgive myself if something happens to you…” 

It had been a long and agitated night for Cole. His dad had to keep him from bouncing his leg up and down multiple times and gave up eventually knowing he wouldn’t stop. 

It was only when the doctor called their name that his world had stopped. He had turned from the doctor and his parents, gripping his hair before he turned and began punching the wall adjacent to him. He had broken down in tears as his dad wrapped his arms around him from behind. George sank to the ground with Cole as he tried to take in the news of the state you’d be in after the serious head injury you sustained. 

Your skull had fractured upon impact with the ground. There was a slight crack which explained the blood he found on his hand. The doctor went through the types of treatments they’d get started on you but it was when he announced that he wanted to keep you in an induced coma to let you heal properly that made him see red. For how long though…he didn’t want to know. 

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry. I'm sorry, bug. I’m sorry..” He wept in his dad's arms. His eyes closed as he rested his head against his dad's shoulder. Katherine placed a hand over his mouth trying to compose herself, not wanting to see her baby in such a state. 

“If you have any further questions let me know. That’s all for now I’m afraid. I’m sorry son.” The doctor gave Cole a sheepish grin before he nodded to Katherine and George, walking off with that being said. 

“Cole–“ George began, but Cole shook his head, pushing himself away from his dad. 

“How long am I grounded for?” He clenched his jaw. 

“That’s not– Hey let’s worry about it another time, not right now.” George rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’re in a lot of pain right now–“ 

“Pain?” Cole scoffed. “You think I’m in pain right now…” He smirked, flexing his jaw. “No seriously Dad, how long am I grounded for huh? A week? Two weeks? A month? Till Y/n wakes back up? If she even wakes up?” He exclaimed.

“Cole, sweetie–“ Katherine went to console him but flinched when he stuck his finger out not wanting to be touched right now. 

“How long, Dad?” He looked through his lashes at him.. 

“I’m not doing this with you right now son.” George clenched his jaw. 

“Why not huh? I can see it in your eyes already. Your disappointment in me. Come on, we both know how much of a screw-up I am in this family. Tonight only proved it further. So how long Dad?” 

“How long? You want to be grounded so damn much then fine…You’re grounded till the next school year starts. Happy?” George let his hands slap to his sides. 

“George!” 

“Super...” Cole smirked then walked back out of the hospital. 

“Cole! Cole! Where are you going?” Katherine called out to him. 

“Anywhere but here.” He threw a peace sign out over his shoulders. 

Katherine turned to her husbands in shock. “Till the rest of the semester?” 

George closed his eyes, regret hitting him instantly. “I know…I’ll talk to him later.”

“Yeah…then you’ll unground him 'cause that is not what he needs right now. Okay– he is very vulnerable right now. You know how he feels about Y/n and this will only affect him more if we don’t stand by his side. Cole needs us more than ever right now. We’re all that girl has. We promised Triny…” Katherine looked defeated. “Please let her get through this…please get her through this.” She placed a hand against her collarbones. Muttering to herself and praying for a miracle. George pulled her into his chest, pressing soothing kisses against her temple as they stood in the hall.