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ashessonfire · 8 months

Note

Bonjour, lovely!! I adore your fics, your choice of words are just *✧delectable✧⁠* and I'm amazed at how you beautifully written Kaz. If you may, could you write a little fluff with the reader being a skilled painter/sculptor and she helps the crows in art forgery. (I personally love when there's a little angsty yearning in the mix but I trust you will blow it out of the waters). Mercii!!

Stolen hearts - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt : As a crow who specializes in art, what happens when Kaz stumbles upon one of your personal sketchbooks and gets a little jealous? - Pairing : Kaz Brekker x Reader - Warnings : Jealous Kaz, Kaz being an idiot, he gets a bit upset but nothing too crazy :)

A/N : Hi my loves, this is a pretty long one but I ADORED this idea, and so I let myself run with it.This may just be one of my favourite things I have ever written so I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing this!! As always requests are open, and please check my list here for other characters I write for!!

click here for masterlist

click here for characters I write for

(Also it seems as if we are getting closer to finding out if we are getting a SOC spin off!! After the writers strikes we should hopefully know, so lets try keep the Grishaverse fandom alive on here!! <3 )

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"You want me to recreate that in two days? Kaz, the original is painted in oils, they don't even dry in that time!" You exclaimed, peering over the top of a stolen painting at your boss, his gaze hard yet not harsh.

"I am aware," Kaz began, "But that's why I hired you, isn't it? You have not missed a deadline once, and I know you won't miss it now," his firm voice rung out into the acoustics of his office.

And of course, he was right.

Although you would have to take a few shortcuts, you could feel your fingertips twitching against the oak frame of the piece, mind already composing each element of the scene. Tucking it beneath your arm, you let out a gentle sigh, nodding swiftly in his direction before departing from the room.

He had saved you, and this painting was only a fragment in your repayment of Kaz Brekker.

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A fire had swept through your village just beyond the confines of the Barrel, leaving you with nothing but your pouch, filled to the brim with pencils, inks, and as many types of paper as you had been able to salvage. The corners of your paintings began to singe as your home was engulfed, pain piercing your heart as you sprinted down the path to evade the impenetrable walls of flame.

Ketterdam beckoned you into her grip, as you ventured through the dim alleyways until shadow gave way to dazzling light displays. The Lid revealed itself to you, and with no other choice you slotted yourself in with the penniless street merchants that lined the alleys of Ketterdam.

For years, you offered sketches, portraits, and paintings to the rich tourists that marveled at Ketterdam's wonders. Although mere pennies were offered in exchange for your work, it was enough to renew your supplies and evade sleeping by the canal, or being trampled by tourists.

As time crawled along your skills blossomed, transforming your rough ideas into magnificent pieces, worthy of far more than a few kruge. Soon, you began to slip into galleries, memorizing each stroke until your mind could guide your hands without a single thought. Portraits that were worth thousands were then being passed into clueless pigeon's hands for only a few hundred kruge, as your skills were unmatched in the art of forgery.

Little did you know that you were being kept under the watchful eye of Kaz Brekker's wraith, your talents being thoroughly observed and reported back to the leader of the crows.

You were able to swindle the pigeons for a few months until the Watchstadt began to take note of the remarkable artistry of your paintings. Overnight, the tides of your fortune changed, awaking one evening to the thudding of leather against stone, inching closer to you as each moment passed.

In a desperate attempt to escape your fate, you clutched your belongings and shot down a back alley, shadows offering you a blanket of protection from the moon's shimmering light. However it seemed as if your luck had reached its limit, as several guards barreled out in front of you, as your other exits were swiftly stolen from you.

Tears began to blur your vision, lightheadedness overtaking your senses, the guard's words became muffled and distant, as panic overtook your being. You were barely aware of a gentle voice calling you from your terror, a soft hand wiping away the beads of pain falling from your eyes.

In the hours that followed, you scarcely registered anything but your gratitude towards Inej, and ultimately to Kaz who had been increasing the hours that his wraith was sent to protect you. In a few swift meetings, Kaz Brekker had settled a deal with you, sheltering you from the darkness of the Barrel, whilst securing a valuable new member of the crows.

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"Thank the saints that that is over," Jesper all but shouted, falling backwards onto the sofa in the common room of the slat. Placing yourself on a worn armchair opposite, you felt somewhat peaceful as your painting had been so seamless that the entire mission was cut short by a few hours.

After jobs, each crow fell into their own routines to unwind the tension that undeniably interwove into each of them. Kaz's cane thumped lightly against the creaking oak of the staircase, ascending to his room to continue plotting. Hushed whispers often omitted from Wylan and Jesper as they basked in each other's company.

Inej was usually missing, as she was now, exploring the endless expanses of rooftops whilst allowing the bitter air to cool her down. Taking in the couple across from you, and a now slumbering Nina beside you, you reached for the familiar leather binding of your sketchbook.

The glowing embers of the low-lit fire cast soft shadows on your friends, and the light washes of orange and red watercolour aided in your attempt to capture the peaceful scene unfolding before you. However, the absence of a certain presence pulled you from your portrait, thoughts straying to the man who undoubtedly was scheming once more in his office.

Since joining his crew, a small fondness for the "demjin" had harbored itself deep within your heart, impenetrable and unmoving. He treated you with a cold kindness, gifting you small tins of expensive paints, or the latest papers, completely dismissing the fact they were irrelevant to your job.

With a short shake of your head, the thoughts dispelled, returning your mind to the clarity it needed to produce your sketch, the flames from the fireplace dimming as the room began to fall into shadow. The peace that art instilled you with returned, as your heartbeat slowed and a sense of calm washed over you with each brushstroke.

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Settling into his chair, Kaz let out a short breath, tension easing slightly from his body as relief gripped him, all thanks to you. Your painting had exceeded his expectations, not a single person suspecting the image to have been forged, and the original stolen into the possession of the Dregs.

Few things could entrance Kaz Brekker, yet something about the way your colours melted into each other, or the clear emotion engrained into every miniscule detail of a painting pulled him in. Perhaps the depth of your sculptures, or the smooth yet carefully crafted edges of the clay coming to life in his imagination were to blame for his admiration for you.

Kaz's mind wandered as he thoughtlessly ridded his desk of it's papers, hastily stacking them into neat piles as he tried to shake his thoughts of you.

Suddenly, Kaz was startled from his inner battle, gloved fingers brushing against a foreign texture, a hard leather cover of, something? Curiosity urged him to retrieve the book from underneath the blueprints and paperwork, eyes scanning over the front in search of a clue as to what the binding held.

Carefully undoing a well tied string, the front page fell flat against his weathered desk, the candle beside him offering a gentle illumination. Kaz's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the contents of the book, the etches of the pencil being too precise to belong to any person, but you.

The charcoal marks formed on the fraying page to portray Jesper, content as he sat on a patterned bar stool in the Crow Club, eyes slightly creased in content. Thumbing to the next page, Kaz discovered another depiction of his sharpshooter, however this time he was polishing his guns. Unlike the previous image, Jesper was now depicted in a light wash of colour, bringing him seemingly to life.

Enchanted by your work, Kaz continued to marvel at each sketch and painting, however a sharp feeling grabbed at his chest as he came to a realization. Apart from a few pages here and there, the subject that lined the parchment was always Jesper. Turning the pages increasingly quicker, a feeling of dread seeped into his stomach, a twisting combination of jealousy and annoyance building within him.

A gentle knock broke him from these thoughts, as your voice called out in the hope you would be permitted entry. Carefully, Kaz slid your sketchbook to the opposite end of his desk, pretending to analyze a discarded stack of papers before allowing you in.

"Hey Kaz, I was just coming to check in on you, I didn't get to catch up with you after..." you began, speech diminishing as your eyes fell upon the bronzed edges of one of your sketchbooks. Your eyes lit up as you began to grin.

"You left it on my desk," Kaz stated, trying desperately to burry the knot in his stomach, as your expression brightened at the thought of finding the book full of Jesper. "I've been looking everywhere for this one, thank you Kaz," you respond, hastily reclaiming the book, folding it snuggly between your arms and your chest.

"It shouldn't be here," Kaz snapped, a sharp tone piercing the previously warm atmosphere, "It's your personal sketchbook, so it needs to stay personal. Understand?" Kaz bit out, stunning you into silence as you backed away towards the door.

"Oh," you began, "I didn't mean to leave it here," voice cracking as you battled through the shock of his manner, and the hurt of him snapping at you. "Make sure I don't see it again, although I'm sure Jesper would love to," Kaz concluded, practically spitting out your friend's name.

The dismay you felt began to ebb away as you took in your boss' expression more closely, your upset being replaced with something resembling humour. "Kaz," your voice quietly began, "You're not jealous, are you?" you question.

Although the room remained silent, his features spoke a thousand words to you, his eyes widening fractionally to reveal fright, face becoming tinged by a rosy blush. Before you could utter another word, Kaz had guided you to the arched doorway, pushed you through the threshold, and slammed the door before you could witness the tips of his ears turning crimson.

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Through the warped glass pane of his window, Kaz was stirred by the early rays of sunrise, face gently caressed by each stream of light that infiltrated the darkness. Despite the restless sleep he gained, the bastard was surprised he had managed to fall unconscious at all.

From the moment he had shut the door on you, feelings of jealousy and shame had consumed him. He swore he had heard a splinter echo throughout his chest as he recalled the hurt spreading across your face the previous evening.

Letting out a short breath of frustration, he slowly contorted his stiff limbs into a sitting position, and only then did his gaze cast onto the unfamiliar shade of leather perching on his nightstand. Unease began to spread through his body, fingertips sparking with anticipation as he reached over to retrieve the sketchbook.

Frustration began to wrestle with the discontent, as he unwound the ribbon binding the wrinkled pages together, yet the colour of the leather seemed to shift underneath his gaze. Unlike the book he had previously discovered, this one was made of a darker material which he could only liken to the darkness of midnight. As he angled the cover, flecks of gold appeared, the early sun dancing light off of each one, illuminating the leather as if it were a sky full of stars

Nimbly undoing the ribbon on the side, the first page fell open, and to his surprise, a neatly penned note fell out of the cover, revealing an image behind it that Kaz was sure he would have permanently engraved in his memory. A pair of sharp eyes met his own, and his breath caught in his throat as he questioned whether he was glimpsing into some sort of mirror.

With a desperation he himself could not even comprehend, Kaz began to flip through the pages, the guilt he had initially felt now burning him from the inside out, singeing at his chest. Each portrait captured his every emotion, each stroke precise and beautiful in a way he had never experienced before.

Gently unfolding the corners of the note, Kaz's gaze deepened with each curling letter of your short message -

Dear Mr Brekker,

After your discovery yesterday, I thought it only fair to also show you your notebook too. I have one for each of the crows, yourself included, and so I kindly ask you not to panic further about Jesper being the only muse of my pieces.

Love, your favourite artist

P.S ~ You also have a second book, if you are interested.

Kaz's breath hitched at the word 'love' before his mind could even comprehend it, head spiraling with thoughts of you as he pictured your gentle teasing laughter as you penned the note to him. The guilt and shame became so consuming in that second that his chest constricted, and he knew the only way he could alleviate the weight was by visiting you.

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A sharp knock pierced through the silence of your room, pen stopping mid point as you called a gentle welcome to the man behind the door. Kaz's figure slowly filled the doorframe, waistcoat slightly untucked, and hair somewhat out of place as if he had raced to see you.

A teasing grin began to illuminate your features, and the sunrise seeping through your window was more than bright enough to display Kaz's rose dusted cheeks as he averted his gaze. Without so much as a sound passing through his pursed lips, a gloved hand directed itself towards you, clutching onto the dark sketchbook.

You smile faltered, the glimmer seeping from your eyes as your lips fought to stay curved, as you questioned, "You didn't like it?" Kaz shifted his dark gaze to meet your own, brows lightly furrowing as he grumbled "I thought you might want it back."

Your gaze softened as the walls you had been beginning to construct around your heart crumbled, "Oh, I meant it more like a gift Kaz, plus I have several more books dedicated to you anyway," you uttered tenderly. The figure before you lowered his head towards the object in his hands, knuckles whitening beneath his leather gloves as his grip hardened.

After a fleeting moment of your boss' gaze sweeping over your features, he gave a swift nod in gratitude, the scent of ink and secrets trailing behind him as he ventured back to his office. Disappointment clung to your chest at his swift departure, hoping that he would have remained in your presence for a few moments more.

However, as your gaze travelled upwards to glimpse at his departing figure, you noticed how he had faltered in your doorway. His broad shoulders were facing you, allowing you to to observe every deep yet ragged breath that lifted his chest.

"I..." He began, voice so low that it was barely audible, "I'm sorry for last night, I shouldn't have said those things to you," Kaz almost spat out, the words tasting foreign on his lips as he attempted to quickly escape to the confines of his office.

"Kaz," you called out, hope unravelling the knots of anxiety from previously, leaving you with streams of a newfound confidence, "I just thought you should know you are my favourite subject. No one else in Ketterdam seems to have a better facial structure than yours."

Kaz could hear the thick inflections of your smirk within your words, ribbons of humour intertwining with each letter you spoke. Despite your teasing being met with a remarkably loud silence, your words had planted themselves deep inside Kaz's heart.

Racing back towards his office, the beat of his cane against the oak panels of the slat hastened by the second.

Yet not even they could match the pace at which Kaz's heart was beating, as his mind replayed your words over and over in his head until the way the word "favourite" was all he could hear.

Thinking back to your short note, Kaz's lips formed a ghost of a smile, since not only were you his favourite, but he was yours.

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Kaz Brekker tag list : @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @swhisperer @sleepynightchild @atlasiiae @kaiinohh @sannunah28 @at-the-chateau @withbeautyandragendrage @animalistic00 @whos6claire @any-corrie @daisydark @shara-ne @xxinvisiblexx @ldhpeter @viperinferno @kozbtchx @wishyouwere-sober (please comment if you would like to be added to the Kaz Brekker taglist)

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P.S - The best way to support writers on here is to repost / repost + add tags! If you could spend a minute or so doing this, it would mean the world <3

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone season 2 #ashessonfire #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker headcanons

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softlymaximoff · 9 months

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Sick Sleepy Bear ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

18+ ONLY MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

— A/N: malen'kiy detenysh “little cub”, and then your usual Russian pet names we all know-

— Summary: prompt 1 -> “hey l'm not your pillow" prompt 2 -> “you’re adorable like this”

— Characters: WandaNat, Fem!reader

— Warnings: anxiety, fluff, little bit of obsessing over Wanda’s boobs, !BRIEF NIPPLE STIMULATION!, body admiration/ worship kinda idk,

— Word Count: 860

There weren’t many times where you were delusionally sleepy, for the record, the only time you were extremely clingy and completely out of it would have been when you fell ill the other month and your body decided to shut down. Of course it happens again when your girlfriends are currently away on a mission.

Tossing and turning in the mass amount of blankets sprawled on the bed, you sigh for the last time before groaning and sitting up. It was only an overnight mission but your tummy was starting to twist and your eyes were going red at the constant rubbing around them. A quiet whimper left your lips as you grabbed your phone and squinted at the harsh light. 3:04am, what a joke.

You hesitated before pressing on the contact name but another rattling cough had you calling in a frenzy. You absolutely hated being sick. It was hell for anyone involved, you despised taking any medicine, you were snappy and you were generally over everyone who tried to interact with you.

A few rings of the dial tone and it connected to the other side “Malysh? It’s three am honey go to sleep” Natasha mumbled out tiredly yet concerned as to why you’re up at the hour. “Come home please” You sniffled out and you heard a shuffle on her end. “Baby- we can’t- drogoya we’re stakehousing, we can’t get to you sweetheart. We’ll be back later today alright moya lyubov” Wanda’s sleepy voice gravelled out through the phone and it made you miss her more.

“Need yous” you whined when another cough coursed through you and you heard a curse through the line. “Oh love, I promise if you close those sleepy eyes we’ll be back before you know it okay malen'kiy detenysh” Wanda sighed sleepily and you tried to shut your eyes once more, but to no avail. “Wanda please. Need you” you whimpered and tried to get comfy again.

Not a moment later and the duo were harmonising a soft lullaby in their common tongue, Wanda slipping a few Sokovian words and Nat keeping the basis Russian. Before you knew it, you were finally catching up on the missed hours of sleep with their voices as the last thing on your mind.

<><><>

The house was silent when the two Avengers finally made it home. The TV was paused on Netflix’s telltale of a binge session asking if you were still watching your current obsessed series and the overthrow blankets were in a pile on the floor. You however, we’re nowhere in sight.

Nat dropped the overnight bags by the door and took Wanda by the wrists, dragging the exhausted witch to your shared bedroom. The minute they opened the door, they caught you in a deep chesty cough, your steady body jolting with each one. “Oh baby love” Wanda pouted sleepily and undressed herself to get into comfy clothes.

A cheeky - yet admirable - glance from Nat had Wanda blushing and sidestepping from the gaze lightly. “Shut up you, go get changed and let’s snuggle please” her voice was light and playful but deep down the three of you knew she was always bashful about her body.

One of the many benefits of Nat having the most control in the relationship was forcing Wanda to feel good about her body before she could literally feel good. As soon as Wanda slipped under the covers, you curled into her sighing in relief at her presence. Nat scooted in behind you and you instinctively reached back, slowly waking up from your slumber.

“Hi” You mumbled into the quiet of the afternoon and practically into Wanda’s boobs, giggling when you nuzzled your face into them and kissed over her heart gently. Another cough rattled your bones and you whimpered when the attack was over, pulling nat closer so she was spooning you from behind.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this. All clingy and melty” Natasha let out a small chuckle but nestled her head in the crook of your neck. A low whine left your lips when she places butterfly kisses along your neck and whispered a small ‘i love you’ in Russian. “Our sick lil angel” Wanda pouted when you pressed your face further into her boobs.

“Hey, I’m not your pillow you goof” she rolled her eyes at the movement but a quick suck from you shut her up really quick. One look from Natasha and Wanda blushed, she was always so bashful when she was exposed with underlying tones. Natasha was never the one to judge but always the one to use it to her advantage.

Hopefully you get better soon because with the rate that your clinginess is going, Wanda was sure to be overstimulated and Natasha just can’t focus when her girls just so beautiful together.

In the meantime, Wanda will just have to keep her composure just enough for you to fall back asleep. At least until the opportunity for a shower arises anyway, cause if you think Natasha is letting Wanda off with nothing but a glance of admiration for the night then you’re thinking wrong.

#wandanat #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #wandanat x you #wanda x you #natasha x you #sick sleepy bear

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morallyinept · 2 months

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Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 6

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Chapter word count: 6.7k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Frankie and Jude tentatively start getting to know one another.

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapter 5

Day 4 on the island…

“Come on you piece a’ shit...” Frankie’s putting the battery back into the iPhone just as the sun is coming up.

"¡Trabaja, maldita sea, vamos!" (Work, damn you, come on!) With trembling fingers, his heart pounds in anticipation echoing inside the canal of his ears.

The inside of the phone seems dry enough and he sweeps away some wayward sand that’s blown into it overnight with his thumbs.

He stands up and takes a deep breath, pressing the power button on. He sighs out when nothing happens and tries again.

He presses harder, as if the depth of his grip will affect the phone somehow, and the screen lights up.

“Yes!” He praises through gritted teeth and laughs out jubilantly through a crackled squaw.

The iPhone powers on and the battery status bar is down to nineteen percent. The home lock screen is presented to him with the faces of two children smiling toothily into the camera with freckles and red curls, and for a second it quells his relief.

A sickly feeling washes over Frankie, a wave of disappointment crashing against the shores of his hope. It’s as if the weight of their predicament bears down on him with renewed intensity, suffocating him with its crushing reality. And of course, he won’t know the unlock code.

He tries a few obvious combinations, including his own that he’d set on his own phone, but it doesn’t unlock.

He notices the signal bar and it’s out of service. He holds the phone up above his head, squinting in the sunlight to see if it changes, and it doesn’t.

As he turns in the sand, this way and that, he clocks the ridge and decides that getting to higher ground might be beneficial.

Around twenty minutes or so later, he’s on the top of the ridge, red-faced and sweating profusely, holding the phone up again above his head.

“Por favor, vamos. No hagas esto, trabaja!" (Please, come on. Don’t do this to me, work!) He growls at it as he moves about and steps closer to the ledge and then back again, waving his arm around like a helicopter blade trying to pick up any signal. “No te rindas ahora, bastarda…” (Don’t give up now, you bastard…)

A sense of helplessness shreds at Frankie’s already tattered insides, twisting his stomach into knots as he grapples with the harsh truth that he’s trying desperately to shut out.

The sickly feeling lingers, a heavy weight in the pit of his empty stomach, as he struggles to come to terms with the futility of the situation.

Frankie gives up when his arm starts to ache and dials a number anyway on the emergency keypad; he dials Benny’s number, as that’s the only number he knows off by heart.

Anguish gnaws at Frankie's insides, a bitter taste of despair lingering on his tongue. In his mind's eye, Frankie pictures Benny’s warm smile, the easy laughter that always seemed to lighten the mood. He imagined the conversation they would have - the jokes they would share, the stories they would reminisce about, the camaraderie that once transcended distance and time and could stand the test of anything.

Until Frankie smashed it all to smithereens.

He plays the conversation out his head.

"Hey, Benny! You won't believe where I fuckin’ am right now!"

And in his imagination, Benny's voice echoes back - a reassuring presence in the darkness of his swamping isolation.

"Fish, buddy, where the fuck are you, man?"

The call doesn’t connect and the iPhone flashes up with the no signal icon again.

“Mierda!” (Shit!) Frankie mutters in Spanish profanity and switches the phone back off.

A myriad of emotions flood Frankie's senses - a mixture of disappointment, frustration, and a profound sense of helplessness that makes his fingers twitch and tap at his side.

He closes his eyes, taking in deep breaths, trying to ignore the feeling that is seeping in like an old friend; a shadow that constantly lurks in the corners of his mind, waiting to ensnare him in its web once more.

He feels the familiar tug of temptation - a biting hunger that claws at his insides, demanding to be sated. It’s as if the very air around him is infused with the scent of his former vice, a potent reminder of the demons he’s struggled to leave behind.

And Frankie feels the crushing weight of them threatening to suffocate him beneath their constricting stranglehold. The island itself, now a prison, its tranquil beauty a cruel mockery of his inner turmoil and struggles.

The phone, once a beacon of hope, now lies dormant in his palm, a cruel reminder of their isolation and the limitations of their circumstances.

Even if by some miracle the call had connected, he knew the call wouldn’t be answered.

He remembers the excuses he'd made, the promises he had broken, the bridges he'd burned and watched collapse in his reckless pursuit of oblivion.

In the silence of his solitude on the ridge, Frankie's only able to confront the harsh truth again - that his addiction has driven a wedge between him and the people he cares about most, and now, he's on his own.

He stands on the ridge for an indeterminable amount of time, sweating, his body shaking and feeling light-headed, and staring out at the seemingly never ending ocean, feeling ever more pissed at the world.

Fuck.

As soon as light pools into the cave mouth, Jude’s awake and watching as Frankie begins an impromptu fashion show on the beachfront.

It hadn’t rained during the night, disappointed to find only a bug inside one of the bottles, Jude had watched with some distant interest as the bug skittered around inside, trapped and unable to cling to the sides to crawl out fully.

She couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for its plight; she and Frankie were trapped too.

She’d tipped it out onto the sand, watching it scurry away under some pebbles and wondered how simple a bug’s life must be.

They still had the bottled water and some cans of fizzy drinks for now, but Jude was more than aware that they needed to get a water source set up and with some urgency too.

Frankie had informed her about the cell phone’s lack of signal as she’d emerged from the cave mouth to find him sorting through the clothes with a grey cloud looming over his head, and it started to bring the mood down between them a little.

As the words left his chapped lips, he watched her expression falter - a fleeting glimpse of disappointment that mirrored his own. He could see the hope drain from her eyes, replaced by a weary resignation that seemed to settle over her like a heavy shroud.

For a moment, there was silence between them - a palpable heaviness that hung in the air, stifling any words of comfort or reassurance.

Frankie felt a pang of guilt chomp at his insides, knowing that he had raised her hopes only to dash them against the harsh reality of their circumstances.

"I'm sorry," he’d whispered, his voice marred with the usual tone of disappointing others that he was used to. "I thought… I thought maybe it would work. But we'll figure something out."

She didn't say anything, instead turning away from him with a shrug.

Silences seemed to linger and feel heavy, and it was hard to talk about anything optimistically or offer a smile for a little bit. Even the bonanza of food and clothes they’d found in the fuselage yesterday seemed like a short-lived hurrah.

The iPhone was a bust, and somewhere deep in the back of Jude’s mind, she kinda knew it would be.

Frankie’s standing on the beach wearing a rather bold, and lurid orange, Hawaiian shirt, that doesn’t do anything for him in the slightest. He flirts with the ridiculous and they both know it.

“What were you thinking when you picked this out?” He asks rather askance, looking down at himself, giant palms facing outward.

Jude had sorted through the clothes previously and handed him lots to try on, seeing as the majority of the clothes they had found were menswear.

There were a few pieces for her; a couple of pairs of shorts, some t-shirts and a turquoise summer dress with sequins on it, with some black flip flops and a black bikini.

Frankie however had a pile the size of a small mountain to pick from.

“Brings out your eyes,” she giggles. “Put it in the maybe pile.”

Frankie looks at her with a whimsical look before he unbuttons it and shoves it back into the suitcase.

“It’s going in the fuckin’ burn it now and never speak of it again pile.” He muses.

Jude looks away feeling suddenly like she’s intruding on something she shouldn’t see as he stands only in his jeans, swollen and bruised, rummaging back through the pile for something else less gaudy.

He likes a jazzy, floral shirt, and rocks it more often than not, but that's too jazzy even for his liking.

He’s kinda strapping - a toned buck that’s a bit lanky, and little chonky and meaty in all the right places, especially around his tummy and thighs, and the broadest shoulders to boot.

He smells clean, or cleaner than he was previously; like soap and wild meadows in springtime wafting off of him, though that briny scent still seems to cling to skin no matter how much he washed himself with the soap.

His hair is a mess of chocolate brown, but with lighter tones weaved throughout the curls when the sun hits it. Although, he keeps it tucked away under the cap that’s been fixed on his head since Jude had met him.

They’d both taken the time that morning to wash and clean themselves in the ocean water at separate ends of the beach. Each taking a small amount of soap and some towels they’d found in the cases.

Jude opted for the yellow striped towel and smirked as Frankie was left with the Finding Nemo one.

Inside the sea, fully naked, Jude had rinsed her hair with fruity shampoo and detangled it with her fingers and tied it up, with a hair tie she’d found in the make-up bag, in a bun to dry.

She’d dried off on the sand; sitting back and watching the shore line for a while whilst she applied the sun lotion to her raw skin, in case she missed a boat or something, ever hopeful and convinced that today would be the day they would both would get off this God forsaken piece of rock in the middle of the current.

She’d applied some of the antiseptic cream to her wound on the back of her calf and it stung a little, but was definitely healing, although she’d probably be left with a horrid scar.

Better a scar than an amputation from gangrene…

When she was dressed in some khaki shorts and a new t-shirt that was a little baggy on her, Jude walked back to the beach to see Frankie sitting on the rocks fingering through the clothes pile, wearing only his towel around his golden, puffy waist.

His legs were incredibly long and his shoulders defined in all the right places; it was a hard feat not to stare at him like a dribbling chimp.

She excused herself whilst he dressed; giving him some privacy as she retreated to the cave mouth to return the toiletries, keeping them in the shade out of the sun would ensure they’d last.

Then returned and sat on the rocks watching as he tried on some of the tops and shirts on offer to him once he was suitably decent, back in his jeans that sit low on his paunchy waist.

The gray sweater swamps him slightly, but is short in the arms and baggy at the neck where it’s been stretched by its previous owner, but it’s better than nothing.

Better than the Finding Nemo towel, even if Jude can’t stop looking at his body, despite trying her best not to.

He takes off the sweater in front of her and all she can do is try not to obviously look as he reveals himself to her casually. He has a few dark hairs circling his nipples and a snail trail that matches them from his oddly slot-shaped belly button, which disappears into his waistband.

Her eyes betray her and she’s drawn to his midriff where she spies a constellation of bruises, some in their embryonic stage, and can’t help but ask where he got them from.

“You’re all beaten up.” Jude says to him.

Some are in the yellowing stage. a couple dotted across the ridge of his hip bones. One under his right arm, down the side of his ribcage, is larger and purple with broken red blood vessels.

He looks down at his chest dumbfounded for a moment and then shrugs.

Frankie doesn’t say anything and pulls on a gray, round necked t-shirt that suits him much better than the jazzy Hawaiian shirt. It’s tight on him in all the right places.

“From the crash, I guess. I remember something hitting me in the water... It was the piece of debris that saved my life in the end. I think it was part of the wing.” Frankie explains, thinking aloud.

“Jesus.” Jude utters.

She remembers clinging onto the piece of sheet metal debris herself, although it wasn’t big enough for her to sit on it or anything like that, it just simply kept her afloat as she drifted into an uncertain abyss.

“I just laid on it floating in the water for so long. I had no fuckin’ idea where the current was taking me. I remember looking up and seeing land after passing out, and I think at that point I couldn’t believe it was real. I was convinced I was gonna die out there.” Frankie speaks with a deep reverence, his eyes looking off to the water and focused on reliving through his harrowing memories of only a few days prior.

Jude knew; she felt it for she’d experienced the same horror he had - lived through it as he had. Both of them alone on the water gaining common ground, unaware at the time that there was another person, another survivor, not too far from their suffering, going through the same dreadful plight.

It was a terrifying ordeal, but somehow made it easier to cope with in the aftermath, that each of them wasn’t fully alone out there on the water after all. So near, yet so far.

“I felt the same when I saw it. I started swimming like crazy and the thought occurred to me that I could be imagining it too, and swimming into deeper water or something; that I was going to drown because I would never make it, you know? Like the island was playing tricks on me.” Jude recalls.

Frankie stops the fashion show and sits down opposite her on the rocks as she swallows back a choke. Fine wisps of her hair have come loose from her bun and stick to her lips.

“Do you… remember it, the moment we crashed?” Frankie asks carefully.

She shakes her head. “You?”

“Flashes.” He says. “The point of impact though, I just… it’s hazy.”

Jude nods. “Perhaps that’s a good thing.” She concludes.

“It’s peaceful here... quiet.” Frankie observes after some time. “Kinda beautiful in a way.”

“Yeah. Do you know which gang runs this turf? We should really compliment them on what they’ve done with the landscape.” Jude muses.

Frankie chuckles as he drinks from the water bottle. “I don’t know what would’ve happened to us if we hadn't found this island.” Frankie surmises looking at her with some concern.

The thought makes both of their blood run cold.

“It’s not worth thinking about; we’re here. We survived a fucking plane crash, that’s gotta be cosmic or something.”

“Either that or we’re the luckiest two assholes in the world.” Frankie concludes.

“If we had champagne, I’d certainly toast to that.” Jude giggles.

Frankie thinks for a second. “Hang on,” he stands up and walks over to the cave mouth.

“No way!” Jude gasps as he comes back with two small, individual sized bottles he’d taken from the trolley, looking tiny in his giant hands.

“It’s not champagne, just sparkling wine. But close enough.” He remarks.

It’s somewhat cool from being in the shade all night in the case and as he twists off the caps, they chink the bottles together.

“To the luckiest two assholes in the world,” Jude toasts with a smirk.

“To us, hermosa.” Frankie agrees, before taking a mouthful of the wine.

Fire is an absolute necessity in any kind of survival situation.

You need fire for multiple reasons; warmth, to cook food, to use the smoke for a signal. To ward off predators that might be lurking in the underbrush watching you from the trees, working out the best time to pounce and eat you.

And of course, to see in the choking darkness that swamps the island as soon as the sun disappears from the sky for another day.

Assuming that you don’t have traditional fire starting devices such as matches or a lighter with you - I mean on a desert island that would be a miracle in itself if you did - you’ll need to come up with a more creative way to start your fire.

One example of what you can do is to use the bottom of a soda or beer can to reflect the heat of the sun onto your kindling, or you can use your glasses or a pair of binoculars if you have them, to focus the heat of the sun on your tinder instead.

Frankie decided instantly that they made starting fires in movies look so fucking easy, because it’s anything but. He’d been at it for ages, after gathering plenty of sticks and dried-out leaves he could find in a pile by the rocks, to the right of the cave mouth, but soon gave up when he felt the rawness in his palms.

He then tried using the glass from one of the empty wine bottles, angling it in the sunlight until he gave that up too and tossed it across the rocks, smashing it to pieces as it made contact with it.

He grunted out in annoyance and stood up pacing, and then crouched down to have another go at the stick rubbing.

A while later and he managed to get a faint whiff of burning fill his nostrils as he worked the fire-plow method, taking to digging a groove into the wood with the switchblade Jude had found, and rubbing a stick back and forth in his palms relentlessly; twisting it round and round, back and forth, until he could blow on it and see a faint ember glow.

He was careful to ensure it didn’t go out and was almost skipping with glee around it like a Neanderthal when the wispy smoke gave birth to actual flames.

"Toma eso, hijo de puta!” (Take that, you motherfucker!) Frankie yelped, smiling and tossed more leaves and branches onto it, scurrying over to the tree line and back again with more sticks to burn so it didn't go out.

An hour or so later and the fire is almost as tall as he is, and radiating a lot of heat and smoke on the beachfront as darkness starts to claim the sky.

Jude’s impressed and high-fives him when she emerges from the cave with two of the airline’s pre-packaged meals.

“Now we have fire, maybe we should check out the cave at some point?” Frankie suggests.

He glances at it over her shoulder and she nods with a thin smile.

She empties the contents of the meals into two of the washed out tin cans, and sets them into the fire to cook.

“Chicken or beef, sir?” She asks Frankie, imitating a steward with a high pitched voice, and he laughs as he brings over two bottles of warm beer and uses his teeth to uncap them.

They eat together on the beach in a contented silence, hot food and a beer doesn’t get much better than this, considering what they’ve been through over the course of the last few days.

It seems to perk them both up a little after the depressing events with the iPhone.

“How did you get on with the water?” Jude asks him, as she puts her beer down in the sand.

“I made a couple of solar stills, over there.” Frankie points to the edge of the rocks where it rounds down a slight slope towards the shoreline.

“What’s a solar still exactly?” She asks, scooping some of the meat into her mouth with her fingers and then sucking them clean.

Frankie has to look away when she does it, there’s something... untamed about it.

He swallows. “Basically, a hole in the ground with a can and lots of leaves and plastic over it. Water drips from the plastic sheet into the can, like condensation, I guess.”

“Neat.”

“We can check ‘em daily and drink as we need to. Any empty bottles or cans we have from the stash we can place in the sand to collect rainwater too; should be enough to keep us going for a little while at least.” He explains.

“Did they teach you all of this stuff in the Army?”

“Yeah, some basic survival,” he says. “Although, they don’t teach you about being stranded on an island in the middle of the fuckin' ocean.” He clears his throat as he sups from his beer.

“No, I guess not,” Jude says, gathering more meat in her fingers.

“So, have you been all over the world with your job?” Frankie asks, making some conversation as they eat.

“Mostly Europe and the States; some parts of Scandinavia too, Iceland… I have a trip to Namibia planned later this year.” She contemplates it. “Or had.”

“Hey,” Frankie rouses her eyes to his. “You’re still going. We’ll be off this island real soon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right.” She says.

The crackling fire casts flickering shadows across the sand, as they share a simple meal amidst the shadows of the oncoming night.

The aroma of the packaged meals fills the air, mingling with the salty tang of the ocean breeze as they sit like worn-out lumps, close to the warmth of the flames.

“What place did you like the most?” Frankie asks, shooing the lingering silence away as it crawls out from the shadows to taunt him.

“Paris. It’s my favourite city.” Jude says after she finishes chewing.

“I’ve never been.”

“I love Paris. The architecture is awesome. The food. The art.” Jude says, dreamily. “I love traipsing around the Louvre all day.”

“You like all them pretty statues, huh?”

“It’s touching a piece of history, something so nostalgic about it.”

Frankie nods again as he eats, licking his lips free of the sauce. “This is pretty good.”

“Not bad for an economy meal. Did you fly in coach?” She enquires, casually.

“No, I was, uh, up in business class.” He says, mumbling.

“Fancy.”

“Company paid for it. Where were you sitting on the plane?” Frankie asks, looking at her.

“Right at the back in economy; the very last seats by the exit doors. I once read that if you sit in the back of a plane, you have a sixty-eight percent chance of survival in a crash, and I guess it kind of stuck with me.”

“What about in the middle?”

“Lower, but still pretty good odds. Did you brace like they tell you to in the safety demo?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t remember.”

She touches her head and it still feels sore and swollen. She doesn’t remember much either; she’d put on her oxygen mask and whatever it was that struck her head had knocked her clean out.

Although she’s grateful for that, some sadistic curiosity wants to remember the actual impact.

“I bet my mom is freaking out,” she assumes solemnly.

Frankie places down his empty tin can and sits back against the rock, staring into the fire. It’s still burning tall and brightly orange with its dancing flames.

“I imagine she probably is.” He affirms.

“And your parents, your family?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.” Although he’s doubtful.

“Even my asshole of an ex-fiancé is probably trying to reach me.”

“You were engaged?” Frankie asks.

She nods, supping from her beer some more. “We were together for four years and they were all miserable to be honest with you.”

“Ah, they can’t have been all bad.”

“Trust me.”

“Well, tell me.” He smiles crookedly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Tell me about it. What was he like?”

“A douche bag.” Jude confirms, running her tongue around her teeth.

He chuckles. “No, I mean when you first met him.”

She thinks for a moment. “Charming. Stupid…” Jude tries not to smile. “I dunno, he was just… perfect.”

Frankie snorts.

“What?”

“Come on, no-one’s perfect.” He says.

“I thought he was. But I was an idiot for thinking he would change, you know? He treated me… he cheated mostly, that kind of thing.”

“That sucks,” Frankie says.

“Dumb thing is, I let him. It’s like I lost my damn mind and was convinced it was better to be with him then be alone; like I wasn’t worthy to be loved properly by someone. I kinda lost myself for a bit...”

Frankie watches her speak and listens to her, seeing the orange from the flames dance inside her wistful eyes.

He remembers Eddie's words echoing around his head.

“They say we attract the kind of love we think we deserve.” Frankie states to her as he looks down at his hands knotting in his lap.

She nods. “I guess that’s true. The irony is, is that it will probably never happen now anyway.” Jude concludes with the final swig of her beer before she tosses the empty on the sand beside her.

“Don’t say that. We’ll get off this island and you’ll find someone that’ll treat you right back home.” Frankie assures with a tight smile.

“Doubtful. I’m sworn off men for life.” She composes herself and hugs her knees, looking over at him. “What about you, what’s your story, Pilot?” She asks, smiling and he smirks back at her.

“Probably even more depressing than yours,” Frankie says.

“Well, I love a good depressing story, I mean look around us.” Jude motions her hand around the dark, isolated beach and he chuckles.

Frankie takes another mouthful of warm, sudsy beer. “It’s really nowhere near as exciting.”

“Tell me about the Army, what was that like?”

“Challenging.”

“How long did you serve?”

“Twenty years.”

“Wow.” Jude Baulks. “What places?”

“Darfur. Iraq. Bosnia. There’s more…”

“Impressive. You said you retired?”

“Yeah.” Frankie nods.

“You don’t look old enough to retire.” Jude says, noting the boyish looks hovering around his tan weathered skin that’s shadowed under the brim of his cap.

“I feel it.” Frankie grumbles.

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Forty-three. I was twenty-two when I enlisted. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

“Did you know you wanted to enlist?”

He nods. “I knew I always wanted to fly. I made captain at twenty-eight.”

“You’re a captain?”

“Yeah.”

“You should have flown the damn plane. We might’ve made it.” Jude quips.

“I would've if I could. I can only fly helicopters.”

“I’ve never been in a helicopter. What’s it like?”

“Like…” He trails off, recalling those moments filled with adrenaline as he took to the skies in his chopper, the familiar whir of the rotors and the exhilarating rush of lift-off filling him with a sense of euphoria unlike anything else.

The controls responding to his touch with precision, each sure movement a testament to his skill and expertise as a pilot. With the ground falling away beneath him, Frankie felt a surge of freedom coursing through his veins - a liberation from the constraints of gravity and the mundane concerns of everyday life.

In the vast expanse of the sky, he found solace - a sanctuary where he could leave behind the worries of the world below and lose himself in the exhilaration of flight, sharing the sky with the birds.

The sheer beauty of the world stretched out before him, a panorama of rolling hills and winding rivers, filled him with an awe that bordered on reverence.

But amidst the beauty of the natural world, there was also a sense of power - a thrill that pulsed through him with each manoeuvre, each twist and turn of the aircraft.

He was in control, he had the grit to keep the bird in the air or bring it to land safely.

He looks down at his hands and the tremble that makes itself known in his fingers again as he balls them into fists.

These hands can’t fly shit anymore...

“Maybe I’ll get to experience it one day.” Jude concludes, quietly.

“Did you always know you wanted to take pictures?” Frankie asks, clearing his throat.

“My parents brought me my first camera when I was six. I had no idea what I was doing with it, it was this old, clunky thing… a Panasonic, I think. One of those flippy out screens. Far too expensive for a six-year old.” She puts down her empty tin after she’s finished eating from it.

“That’s cool,” he says, listening to her speak intently.

Frankie watches as a smile plays across her lips, a flicker of childhood innocence reflected in her eyes.

He can imagine her as a young girl, eagerly exploring the world through the lens of her camera, capturing moments of wonder and discovery with each click of the shutter.

"I took it everywhere with me," Jude continues, her voice tinged with a sense of wistfulness. "I would snap photos of anything and everything - flowers in the garden, my dog Winky, even the clouds in the sky. It was like a window into another world…"

“You named your dog Winky?" Frankie chuckles.

"No, my parents did." She grins.

"Sure, sure."

"It's funny," she muses, her gaze drifting towards the dark sky above. "Even now, all these years later, I still feel that same sense of wonder whenever I pick up a camera. It's like I'm transported back to that time. Never gets old. I guess that’s how it feels for you, right, flying?” She enquires, her knees brought closer to her chest and resting her elbow on them as she regards him, the flames casting spooky, swaying shadows that dance over his face.

Frankie nods at her with a reverent smile. “Yeah. It does.”

She runs her hands through her hair, taking it out of the bun as the breeze whips around them.

“How did your ex-girlfriend handle it? I imagine it must have been hard to leave her for so long whilst you were serving?”

It stings a little in her gut, imagining how Nate would react in such a situation and knowing full well he would have taken complete advantage of it too, the scumbag.

Women falling at his feet? Oh yeah.

“We weren’t together then, we met after I got out.”

“Tell me about her.”

Frankie’s face immediately wrinkles.

“Oh come on, I told you about mine.” She grins.

He swallows hard. “I was an asshole to her.” He brings his beer bottle up to his lips again and pauses before drinking.

“What did you do?”

He shakes his head. “I just wasn’t… good.”

Jude nods slowly as though she’s analysing his words carefully. Noting a silent plea in his eyes telling her not to probe too deeply.

“Were you unfaithful?” Jude asks, poking idly at the fire pit with a branch she’s picked up beside her.

“No, nothing like that,” Frankie confirms, looking her square in the eye. “What I did was probably worse.” He explains, feeling that he’s probably giving too much away to her, but talking to her seems to flow as naturally as the warm beer going down his throat.

“We all make mistakes.” She feels a pull in her stomach as she says it.

“Doesn’t make it right though.”

“No, it doesn’t. But what’s important is that we learn and grow from them instead of repeating them. Although, I’m one to talk. Hell, I’ve made plenty, so I’m certainly not going to judge you for a moment of weakness, Frankie. Only God can do that, if you believe in Him.”

He shakes his head. "Do you?"

"Fuck no!" She laughs and he grins. "You're kidding, right?"

It’s on the edge of his tongue, the fucked up truths about him ready to be bared in all their shameful flesh and graces, but he keeps his lips shut up tight and just watches Jude's shoulders still when her giggles die out.

They sit in a contemplative, comfortable silence sipping from their warm beers and listening to the fire crackle and spit. It’s almost as if this conversation, a conversation of equals, has made Jude evaluate and respect the fact that he’s so forthcoming with her, when he doesn’t need to be.

He can easily just feed her a pack of lies; make up a story about who he was back on dry land. They could be rescued at any moment and then what? They’d probably go back to their own lives and never talk again in the most likelihood of outcomes.

Apart from being stranded on an island together, what did they actually have in common?

Their paths would never have crossed in any other situation, she realises that. But that’s also the beauty of it. The fact that it’s possible in this world, against all odds for two people, two complete strangers with their own pasts, stories, experiences to be thrust into one another’s path for reasons that they probably don’t understand or even consider at the time.

Everything happens for a reason.

“Can we have a do over you think, when we get off this fuckin’ island?” Frankie asks with a contemplative smile.

“I think we deserve that, don’t you?” Jude says, with a little smile of comfort offered back to him.

“I think we’ve definitely paid our dues, right?” Frankie smirks crookedly.

She looks up at the sky. “You hear that universe? Fish says we’ve paid our fucking dues!”

Frankie also looks up at the sky and smiles.

“Wow. Look how clear it is up there.” Jude muses.

The sky is insanely black, but there are millions of stars scattered across it, far more than you would see on a normal night in a busy town clogging the sky with that pesky light pollution.

It’s as though someone has tossed millions of diamonds up there and they all twinkle in unison.

“I’ve never seen so many stars,” Jude marvels; lying backwards until she’s flat against the sand and staring right up on high.

Frankie shuffles down and lays beside her, keeping a subtle gap, his legs running parallel to hers and clasping his hands over his chest in astonishment.

They both just stargaze and stay locked inside an awed silence whilst their eyes take in the view presented to them; seeming like it’s just for them and no-one else.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She asks after some time just lying there basking in the wonderment that space has to offer.

“Yeah,” Frankie agrees; his eyes roaming across the sky seeking out constellations he’s familiar with, his curious mind questioning all that’s known and unknown.

The beauty of space is unequalled; rendering you catatonically mute in astonishment as you try to untangle all its mysteries and the questions it provokes in you.

And yet you can never begin to fathom or accept its infinite wisdom it has to offer you. All you can do is point and drool as you say ‘pretty stars’ over and over again like you’ve been given a lobotomy and can’t remember your own name.

It knocks you for six and winds you as you stare up into the black, never ending void of space, time and unchartered territory, which in our lifetimes, we’ll never explore or understand fully.

And it’s all kinds of wonderful as it makes you and all your problems seem utterly insignificant for a while; problems like being stuck on a desert island and never knowing when or even if you’ll ever be rescued.

For a few short moments, Jude forgets they’re both stranded and trying to survive. For a few short minutes, Frankie forgets he’d fought for his life in the water against the current trying to drown him.

For several quiet beats they’re one with the cosmos and everything else pales into insignificance.

“I used to do this as a kid.” Jude smiles, remembering all the times she would sneak out of her room onto the roof with ease and watch the sky at night.

Thinking then how brilliant it was to see the stars, but never imagined there could be millions in the sky like she’s seeing now. “I’d stay out for hours just watching the sky and taking pictures of the moon; I saw a shooting star once.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, it was so cool.”

“Did you make a wish?” Frankie asks with a smile escaping his mouth as he turns his head towards her.

“That would be telling.”

“Ah, you’re no fun,” he says, as she nudges his elbow with hers.

“I remember wondering what it would be like to be a shooting star travelling so fast across space. Sounds stupid, I know.”

“Not at all. I’ve seen one myself.”

In a fleeting moment of respite during his time on the frontline, he saw it - a shooting star streaking across the heavens, a radiant beacon of light amidst the dark ravages of war.

For a brief instant, time seemed to stand still as Frankie had watched in awe, his breath caught in his throat as he marvelled at the celestial spectacle unfolding before him, whilst he was covered in dirt and desert dust.

“What did you wish for?” Jude asks.

“World peace,” he says, very deadpan.

She snickers and sits upright on her elbows.

The backdrop of the sky seems to meet with the water and endure a long kiss goodnight as they merge into one being in the dark.

“Have you seen the Northern Lights on your travels?” Frankie asks her.

She nods. “A few times, in Scandinavia; but it was very brief. They were gone just as quickly as they appeared. But it’s still pretty awesome.”

“I bet. I’d love to see them; all that green.”

“They’re pink too.” Jude says, looking up at the sky.

“You saw that?”

“No. I want to though.”

“You will one day. I know it.”

“Are you psychic there, Frankie? You can see our future beyond this island, huh?” She questions with a grin.

He laughs, crinkling his nose and it’s kinda beautiful. “No. But I know we’re going leave here. Really soon.”

“I really hope you’re right about that.” She looks back up at the sky and hopes a shooting star will appear so she really can wish that they’ll be rescued.

“Unfortunately, I’m right about everything.” Frankie states confidently and grins, and she playfully mock punches him on the shoulder.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he feigns shock and ouchies.

“Well, I’m not a nice person.” Jude teases.

“Yes you are. You have good vibes about you.” Frankie confirms.

“You think so?”

He nods slowly and looks back at the sky himself. “Some things I just know.”

“Good old psychic Frankie. When we get home, I’m going to buy you a crystal ball.” Jude snorts.

“When we get home I’m going to buy you a burger. And a beer.” Frankie confirms, chuckling.

“Fuck, don’t talk to me about burgers... Aww man. I really want, like the sloppiest, greasiest cheeseburger, with fried onions and so much ketchup squirting out the sides of it.” She can feel her mouth beginning to water like crazy at the thought of it. "Oh my God..."

“Now you’re fuckin’ talking.” He agrees, licking his lips.

They both smile and shift back to that awed, comfortable silence as they stargaze on high for a while longer.

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.” Jude puts to him after a while. “I want my cheeseburger.”

“I promise, hermosa.” Frankie reassures, turning to her and smiling in the firelight.

His eyes are big and dark and she marvels at the intensity of them, two deep wells pulling her in.

“Good.” She smiles back at him.

To be continued...

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bbunivxrse · 4 months

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❥ HATED HIM - SATORU GOJO

pairing: - gojo x f!reader contents: you hate gojo, but even so, youre forced to go on a mission with him, which ends badly. for you, anyway. - no warnings js fluff at the end but a bit ooc?? i think??? word count: 1.9k a/n: hi!! ik im late but happy new years!! i wanted to post earlier but i have no idea what to write :sob: if u have any requests pls send i need ideas

you’ve always hated Satoru Gojo. the day you met him you knew you’d never want to be around him. his persistent grossly inflated ego and cocky attitude always had your gears grinding. the way he seemed to somehow develop a crush on you despite you never saying a single kind or loving word to him is beyond you. he has no shame in trying to flirt with the girl that not only has no interest in him, but also openly hates him. no matter how many people are around he’ll always go out of his way to bother you. everytime you hear him speak you think about how fucking lucky he is to be the strongest, if he wasn’t you would’ve taken care of him and his attitude already.

you weren’t shy to make this opinion known, even straight to his face. all your classmates seemed to understand and even agree, everyone except for gojo of course, who always persisted that he is the ‘best person ever’ and that ‘nobody can hate him’. your friend utahime seemed to really enjoy listening to your long, harsh rants about him, reminding you that your not alone in your detest for gojo.

Today you had what seemed to be a start to a good morning, until you were informed you had a mission to attend to the very next day. that news alone obviously wasn’t enough to ruin your mood, you had missions all the time, it was normal. this mission however was not only a special grade curse, but it was also assigned to just you and gojo.

“man, that sucks..” shoko sighs, patting your shoulder. after explaining and ranting about your situation you felt a bit better, but still didn’t change the fact that you’d be out overnight, possibly for two nights, alone on a mission with gojo. you groan in frustration just at the thought. “don’t you ever think you’re being a bit hard on him, y/n?” his best friend piped up. he just happened to be passing by and eavesdropping on your conversation. “well of course you’d defend him.” you roll your eyes as suguru laughs.

to be completely fair, maybe you were a bit harsh when it came to gojo. but that didn’t matter to you when all he does is put his face in your business 24/7, attempting to flirt while simultaneously pushing your buttons whenever he gets the chance and only laying off when you get annoyed enough to actually scare him away. “i wouldn’t have to hate him so much if he wasn’t so annoying.” you shrug, feeling completely justified in every word you’ve said. suguru nods understandingly as he considers your words. he does know that gojo can most certainly be a handful.

the day of the mission arrives and you’re up early, getting ready and packing your bag to set out on the mission. with your extra time you decide to keep yourself calm by reading a book you’ve had on your to-read list for waaayyy too long. it was nice until you realized gojo was late, then you were back in your grumpy mood waiting on him. “hi y/n!! are you ready for our honeymoon together??” gojo waves enthusiastically, his loud voice was already starting to irritate you, along with him unapologetically showing up an hour after the established meeting time. “you’re late.”

“i had stuff to do.” gojo frowned, but you know all too well he had absolutely nothing to do. the day is gonna be too long to keep arguing with him, so you decide to be the bigger person for once and begin to make your way to your next destination without saying a word to him. “wooow! you’re not even gonna say anything to me?? i’m so hurt!!” gojo whines behind you, already managing to piss you off at the beginning of your mission.

the place you were headed to was a building that was rumored to be haunted. supposedly it had been involved in a lot of accidents in the area. people last being seen near the house before going missing, car accidents in the area, reported “weird activity” inside the house. it was enough to have the curse inside deemed a special grade, which meant the two of you needed to focus on this mission and you know gojo isn’t gonna do that.

after a long ass train ride that felt like it was gonna go on forever because of gojos endless talking, the two of you made it to the house. it was much older than all other houses on the street and was visibly abandoned and overgrown. the immense amount of cursed energy coming from inside was a bit intimidating, even for you, and made you a bit tense, which did not go unnoticed. “you really scared of some little house?” gojo teased, which took you out of your train of thought. “obviously i’m not scared. i’ve dealt with worse.” you lied through your teeth. of course you’re not gonna reveal that you’re actually trembling in your boots.

“that things no match for me! since you’re soooo scared, why don’t you sit this one out and let me take care of it, princess? i'd hate to see your pretty face get hurt,” truth is, gojo can tell just as well as you can that this curse was no joke. he knows you’re powerful and could probably handle something like this on your own but he doesn’t wanna risk it. seeing you get messed up by a curse while he’s there to protect you, he’d never forgive himself! “no thanks.” you reply dryly, walking up to the house and heading inside.

the presence of the curse inhabiting that house was just as, if not even more intense than it was from the outside and honestly unlike anything you’d dealt with at that point, which is probably why it was able to catch you off guard. you hadn’t even been able to get a glimpse of it before it had you on the floor, across the room and unconscious.

waking up, it felt like you had been asleep for decades. at first you were happy to be in your bed, until you realized it wasn’t your bed. your head hurt like hell, it felt like your brain was too big for your skull and wanted to break free. the lights in the room blaring in your eyes didn’t help. you tried to sit up, suddenly feeling waves of pain along your weakened body. when you were able to sit up, the one person you were hoping not to see was looking out the window and had been alerted by the sound of bedsheets shuffling.

“hi y/n!!!” he yells excitedly, getting up and bringing his chair to sit beside you. “i totally saved your ass! that cursed fucked you up bad!” gojo laughs at you. under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be amused by his antics, but especially now it was even more upsetting. for one, you were embarrassed. the man you hate most watched you get absolutely folded by some random ass curse. and on top of that he had to save you and bring you back afterwards. the realization made your blood run cold and you couldn’t even be bothered to look him in the eyes. you hear him lightly sigh in response to your silence.

The switch in his demeanor was sudden when he can visually see on your face how hurt you are, physically and emotionally. “i know your head probably hurts. i got you some advil.” you finally look up at gojo, before looking down at the bedside table to see a little bottle of advil and a glass of water. “the water had ice in it but.. it melted.” as you graciously take the advil and gulp down the water like you hadn’t drank for days, you think about the amount of time that must’ve passed, evident by the pinkish hue of the sky and the bright orange sunlight shining through the window and onto the floor.

after finishing the glass of water and setting it down you sat in silence, your lightly bandaged arms lying in from of you. you decide to appreciate the silence, as normally gojo would be laughing and teasing to no end. and after a catastrophic mission like this? being knocked cold out for hours? you thought you wouldn’t hear the end of it from him, but surprisingly you hadn’t heard a word. “is the advil working?”

“it hasn’t even been 10 minutes.” you hiss at him, instantly missing the peace and quiet. you take a quick look at gojo, noticing the unusual darkness of his bright blue eyes and the way his hair is somehow messier than it usually is. he almost looks like he’s been through war even though you know that isn’t the case. he probably made light work out of that damn curse. “remember what i said..? about not forgiving myself if i couldnt protect you?”

"you did not say that." you actually look up at him but his gaze is focused on the floor in front of him. “i know you hate me and all but.. i really care for you, y’know? you had me kinda worried.” he somewhat laughs to himself but not the same way he usually does.

“sorry.” is all you can whisper out. “thank you for saving me, though.” as much as you want to be nice to him for saving your life, the way his demeanor changes when your gratefulness strokes his ego makes you regret it. “yeah, i know. i’m awesome. don’t i deserve a reward?” gojos eyes light up again, continuously making you regret being kind to him for once. but at the same time, considering his sweeter words to you, you’ll humor him. “what kinda reward?” you roll your eyes playfully. “hmmmm… i think i deserveee….” gojo pretends to think hard, putting his hand to his chin. “a kiss!!” the slight smile on your face instantly melts, which in turn causes gojo to start pouting and whining like a child. “don’t look at me like that! i saved your life and patched you up and all i’m asking for is a kiss!!”

“i don’t want to kiss you.” gojos jaw drops as he genuinely looks shocked by your blatant statement. “what!? how could you not want to kiss me?! you owe me your life!!” all you can do is sigh and cross your arms, which leads gojo to using a different avenue to convince you. “pleeeaseee baby? one kiss won’t hurt…” the look he gave you can only be described as the same one a sad kitten would give you when they want you to give them food. his face almost makes you feel bad for your mean words since he looks like he’ll genuinely cry if you don’t agree to kiss him. “fine. one kiss. hurry up.” gojos face lights up in a way you’ve never seen before, a big smile across his face as he practically lounges onto the bed beside you. he swiftly places a hand around your waist while the other picks up your legs and places them on his lap. “can you slow down! i said one kiss. not whatever this is.”

“it will be one kiss! or maybe two? i don’t care, i’ve been waiting for this!” before you can say a word, he already has his lips on yours. you couldn’t deny that he was a good kisser. suddenly everything and everyone melted away and it was just the two of you, your hands on his chest and his around your waist. you kinda wanted it to stay like this, in a weird twisted way you never thought you’d feel with a man like gojo.

i think this would make the perfect prequel to a cute fic if anyone wants a pt 2!! js lmk!!

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader

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seeingivy · 9 months

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award show etiquette

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: light mentions of paparazzi/stalking, SMAU!!!! hehehehe, some fun cameos (HEHEHEHE), eren being a jealous little baby, eren and y/n being so corny

an: enjoy :DDD (for some regular readers, play close attention to usernames)

previous part linked here

Things change in the next six months. You turn sixteen. Falco and Colt buy you a shiny acoustic guitar as a gift for you to start writing songs like you’ve always wanted. The guitar is nice, but the writing doesn’t go so well. You don’t land any new acting roles for your hiatus, but everyone else does.

All in all, some parts of your dreams feel real, like you’re standing at the doorstep of everything that you ever wanted. But the setbacks are so debilitating sometimes it feels like you’re wasting your efforts. Plus, your dreams come with their own set of nightmares too.

Attack on Titan truly does trend overnight - really gaining traction around the fifth episode. Whenever episodes air, almost everyone is on social media talking about it - live tweeting the scenes, commenting on how phenomenal the storyline, the acting, the costumes were, trying to guess what happens next. It was almost like a trend, becoming bigger and bigger by everyone talking about it, pointing out all the little details woven into the story, following the press junkets.

The reception of the show feels like a victory. Levi, Erwin, and Hange get praised on the daily and people fall in love with the cast fast. Despite receiving a horrendous first impression score from The Elms, they officially take away their initial criticisms and give a glowing recommendation of you after the airing of the third episode - going as far as calling you the cast member to watch out for.

The show gets renewed for three more seasons by the eighth episode and suddenly you’re getting offers for things you have no idea about. You need a publicist, a makeup team, a personal designer, someone to control your social media presence and a manager for your next moves. Even though you're not even at that level.

It’s…taxing. You’re not really sure what you want to do next. You’re only sixteen - there’s only so much childhood left that you can cherish. But they all insist that this traction won’t come back and that you can’t fall off. There’s pressure to deliver, to keep the momentum going.

You don’t mean to sound ungrateful. This is what you wanted, but it's far off from what you expected. Evey beyond the entire thing being stressful, it changes even the tiniest, miniscule details of your life - one’s you never even recognized as important before.

Because when you go back to school, you’re not sure what’s going on. Your usual friends treat you weirdly, people who had no idea you existed are going on about how you guys have always been great friends, no one talks to you unless it’s Attack on Titan related. And it’s not that you don’t love talking about it, because you do, but it feels weird to share and bring to your tiny little unimportant high school.

You feel like a shiny, plastic toy, something people ogle in the hallways, but never touch or come near for posterity's sake.

And when you leave school, there’s a flood of paparazzi waiting for you right outside, snapping pictures of you, Colt, and Falco as you wait on the block. And they follow you all the way home, taking a seat outside your house. You think it’s stalking. And surprisingly enough, the law doesn’t see it that way.

Meaning you have to put up with the fact that they’re waiting for you every morning, following your moves like little vultures. And you’re not sure what’s so interesting about you checking your mail, but you’re advised against it, and suddenly you can’t.

You can’t go to the park. Or the grocery store. Or even into your own backyard because in all senses of the word, they are kind of relentless.

It feels harsh to say, but you feel like a prisoner. Like you’re watching life move on outside of you - kids biking down the pavement, Colt walking to the store, your neighbors mowing the lawn - and you never realized what a luxury mundane things like this were.

To be unknown, a face in a sea of people rather than a deer stuck in headlights, frozen where you are. Because the people you knew don’t see you the same way, and really, you’re not a stranger to anyone anymore.

It sucks. It’s amazing. You hate it. You love it. The highs and the lows fluctuate so fast that sometimes you feel like you’re a crazy person - teetering from one place to another. Everyone loves your acting, but no one wants to sit with you at school during lunch. The paparazzi stay outside your house almost all day, everyday but you got invited to announce an award at the Savants Show.

In some way, your feelings feel inherently wrong. Because this is some people’s dream, and it used to be yours too, but really you just want to go to the grocery store with your little brother and buy snacks. You want to talk to your friends at recess, not get asked random questions while you’re shoved into your car.

Marco visits around the four month mark, after you confide in him that it hasn’t been the greatest. He spends a whole week with your family - teaching Falco how to play Go, Colt teaches him how to do card tricks, and the two of you spend all night talking about anything and everything. And you love him for it. Because really, you’re not the only one going through this. Sure, they were primed for this since they were little, but it’s nice to have someone who understands you by your side.

And Eren calls you every single night, to the point where you’re both falling asleep on the phone together, his soft breathing lulling you to sleep every night. Some part of you feels guilty confiding in him, since he is on the set of a really big movie he’s filming right now, but he always assuages any guilt you have with his words.

“How was your day, Y/N?” he asks, nestled into a gray hoodie, the smallest tufts of his brown hair peeking out of the hood.

He’s leaning against his headboard, his forearm resting against his head and his eyes shut closed. Because he’s six hours ahead of you, in Switzerland. And it’s the middle of the night.

“Is your roommate there?”

He laughs, his dimples appearing in the glow of the computer light.

“He’s really mad at us about last night. He told me we need to stop giggling so late so he can get some “beauty sleep” or whatever.”

“I don’t giggle. He must hate me.”

“Oh, for sure. But Ry hates everyone.”

“Rude.”

“I asked a question. How was your day, Y/N?”

“Ah. It was okay, Eren. Same old.”

His eyes flutter open and he leans forward, the concern washing over his eyes. And you hate when he does this, because really, it’s worse to have Eren pity you more than anything.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Six days.”

You smile, brushing down the ends of your hair. Right. Six days till you and Eren are together again.

“Yeah. It feels like time passed by really fast.”

“What are you talking about? It feels like an eternity since I’ve seen you. I’m not even sure what you look like anymore.”

“Bullshit. You literally FaceTime me every single day, Eren.”

“Still. It’ll be nice. To see you in person, to not have the Wifi lag because Coco is trying to play Roblox.”

“He got banned the other day.”

“For what?”

“He censored a curse word, but still got banned because it picked it up.”

“Rookie mistake, Falco. He can have my account if it’s that serious.”

You both laugh, falling into a comfortable silence, as you stare at each other on the screen. The white light of the screen is doing little to illuminate Eren’s face in the dark room he’s sitting in and really, you can only make out the harsh figures on his face.

The bridge of his nose, the shape of his eyebrows, only one dimple, and his lips. And when he leans back, placing the phone on the side, as he nestles into his pillow, you put Eren to the side, typing away on your computer. When you glance over in a few minutes, he’s fast asleep, only the sounds of his breathing coming out of the phone.

Six days.

As far as red carpets go, this has to be a memorable first. You arrive there at six o’clock, which is when the red carpet starts. Meaning the rest of the cast is already out there, getting pictures taken, doing interviews while your cab driver is Tokyo Drifting you through the streets of New York City.

The second you arrive, Mikasa’s styling team throws you into a frenzy. You’re attired into a long, flowing green dress, because the original outfit that you had picked out got lost in the airport debacle.

Right. You would have been there on time if the universe was actually on your side for once. You were supposed to fly in on Thursday, with the rest of the Attack on Titan cast. You were all going to be staying together in a house near the awards show, so that you guys could get started on table reads this weekend before you start filming again next month.

Except, your flight got delayed and you didn’t make it in time. And they accidentally lost your luggage in the time in between canceling your flight and scheduling you a new one. Which leaves you in your current dilemma, of walking onto the carpet an hour late.

Somewhere in the middle of the carpet, a very antsy and anxious Eren Jaeger is doing press interviews. He’s styled in all black and a green tie, meant by his styling team to compliment the color of his eyes. He doesn’t get that entire thing, but does it anyway.

“Do you have any news you can tell us about the next season of Attack on Titan?”

Before Eren can respond, he feels a hand clamped over his mouth, Ymir standing behind him with a stern expression on her face.

“Do not answer that, Eren.” grumbles Ymir, the interviewer laughing at the two of you.

Eren rolls his eyes as he and Ymir stand side by side, the two of them answering questions from the interviewer.

“Are you guys really friends outside of the set?”

“No. Eren Jaeger is insufferable.” responds Ymir, Eren reaching over to smack her cheek as they both laugh.

“Yes, we’re all really good friends. Some of us more than oth-”

Ymir’s response is cut off by a loud sound of cheering, all of the photographers on that side of the carpet rushing to the front. And when he leans over the crowd of people to see you at the center, with all these cameras flashing at you, he can feel his heart thumping in his chest and an almost inevitable smile spreading across his face.

It’s you. It’s really you - in real life and not on a shitty wifi phone screen but only ten feet away from him, looking like the sun.

The entire thing is overstimulating. There’s almost a dozen camera’s flashing, all at one time. You’re trying your best to smile but all you can hear is clicking, twenty different people saying your name trying to get your attention, and your cheeks burning from keeping your smile in th3 same position as you flick your eyes around.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see it. The tufts of brown hair you have committed to memory. You look to your right to find Eren and Ymir smiling at you, the two of them giving you waves. And you turn back to the crowd, whisper a polite sorry, and run right into Ymir’s arms first.

“Ymir, I missed you so much.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’d miss me too.”

You pull back, every unpleasant feeling in your chest accumulating for the past six months lessening at the warmth of someone so familiar, someone you love so much gleaming at you in your arms. Ymir rolls her eyes and pinches your cheek as she walks away, leaving you and Eren standing on the carpet.

You can feel yourself smiling really big and you try your best to will it down, but the pure anticipation and adrenaline of the event, and Eren Jaeger, really standing in the flesh in front of you, stops any efforts you may have.

“Hi Eren.” you whisper.

“Hi Y/N.” he whispers back.

You lean forward and lock your hands around his neck, to which he crushes you in his hold, the two of you giggling in each other's ears as you hug each other, cheeks slightly flushed. And for the rest of the carpet, you and Eren link arms, taking turns answering the interviewers questions and taking pictures together.

“Do you guys like each other?”

“I mean, I sure hope Eren likes me. We are best friends and all.” you respond.

Eren reaches forward, smacking his palm against your forehead.

“Shut up. You know I like you.”

You and Eren feel a sudden weight on your shoulders, and in true menace form, Connie Springer is leaning against both of your frames. He leans forward into the microphone, grinning at the interviewer as he starts talking.

“Oh, they like each other all right. They have all these little things they do on set that none of us are allowed to do with them. Like oh, you can’t eat ramen with Y/N that’s our thing. Or oh, you can’t get slushies with Eren, we’ve been doing that since we got here.”

You lean forward and flick Connie on the forehead, as Eren rolls his eyes.

“Are you jealous, Connie?” you ask.

“No. I just want some of that bitch ass ramen you guys are always making.”

Erwin and Levi walk up, the two of them pinching Connie’s cheek as he whines.

“Language, Springer.” Levi mutters.

He drops Connie’s ear and places his hand in your hair, giving you a warm smile. Erwin gives you a hearty hug before the two of them walk away, meeting Hange at the end of the carpet.

You turn back to the interviewer, you and Eren answering final questions before walking away all together. The second you get away from her, Connie’s leaning down, crushing you in a hug and lifting you into the air.

“I missed you yesterday.” Connie mutters, his breath tickling your ears.

“I know, I was so sad to miss it. I really missed you guys too.” You’re not entirely sure why - but Connie, Ymir, Eren, these comforting people after six months of hellscape are enough for the air to get tangled in your throat and the warm tears to start welling in your eyes.

Connie swings his arm around Eren as he talks, smirking at the two of you.

“Some of us missed you more than others.” Connie grins, poking Eren’s cheeks.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask.

“Eren pouted all day. Looked nearly depressed when he had to eat that measly ramen bowl by himself. Stared at pictures of you on his phone.”

“I DIDN’T LOOK AT PICTURES OF HER ON MY PHONE.” Eren responds, now yanking Connie by the ear.

Connie rolls his eyes as he runs off, leaving you and Eren to walk the last part of the red carpet together.

Right before you make it into the venue, you feel a tugging on your dress, to be met with two kids who must be a few years younger than you, matching smiles on their faces. You and Eren crouch down, taking in their outfits

They’re dressed as you and Eren, from the show. With perfect green capes and a red scarf. Why are they watching your show? Seems a bit gory for their age.

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” you say, holding out your hand.

They both excitedly shake, stumbling over their words as they start talking.

“Hi. I-I love you so much. You-you’re both so cool and we just-we love you so much we-” the girl starts.

“We made-made you a gift.” the boy continues.

Eren leans forward, holding his hand out, as he gives the two of them a warm smile.

“You guys are too kind. Y/N and I really appreciate it, truly.”

They place two friendship bracelets in your hands, which you and Eren immediately slide onto your hands. You and Eren take the time to give each of them a hug, making sure their parents are able to snap pictures, before you head back inside.

When you’re inside the safe confines of the theater, you look down at the bracelets. Yours is green and Eren’s is pink. The beads in the middle of yours say “attack on eren” and the beads in the middle of Eren’s say “attack on y/n” - like your matching tag names on Twitter.

“Hey. They accidentally switched them when they gave it to us. My bracelet says your name.” you say.

“There’s no way they would give us the wrong ones.”

“They could have gotten nervous. Why would I wear a bracelet with your name on it when you-”

“I’m keeping this one.” he says, with a tone so definitive you don’t even want to respond.

You and Eren hold your wrists out to admire them, the soft beads standing out against your fancy clothes. It’s simple. You love it.

You reach down and tangle one of your hands with Eren’s. He squeezes three times. You squeeze back.

And for the first time in six months, you feel at ease.

“Wait so, explain this to me one more time.” you ask, being met with eleven prepared faces staring back at you.

“These are the Savant TV show awards. There are other ones for things like movies, music, and plays. Any show that is part of this cycle has to send names in to nominate for each award. Five are selected in each category and then a select group of people in the industry, we call them the Institute, usually vote on winners.” starts Bertholdt.

“Okay. That makes sense. Is that how they pick triple threats too?”

Eren’s hand is still locked in yours, hidden under the pleats of your dress. He squeezes three times at the mention of a triple threat and you get the message.

You got this.

“Well, triple threats are different. They’re kind of variable and get announced randomly. Some years you can have a lot of triple threats and some years none. But when they get picked, they announce the three pieces that made them a triple threat. Then they have to do this long and personal interview where they discuss their time in the industry - good, bad, all of it - and at whatever award show is next, they pick one of the three - singing, dancing, or acting - and perform a piece at the end of the show.” explains Annie, fidgeting with the ends of her perfectly curled hair.

“Do we have any triple threats today?” you ask.

“No. But besides triple threat performances, there’s also other performers and an ensemble showcase. Have you ever seen one?” asks Armin, leaning forward to pull Annie’s hands down from ruining her hair.

“No. What’s that?”

“Basically, each year the Savants pick a show to perform for an ensemble showcase. It’s the cast of the entire show, or just a select portion of it, and they usually perform a dance or sing a song related to the show. This year, it’s the cast of Blue Lock, the soccer show?” responds Armin.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“They’re performing that song Get Your Head in the Game from that movie High School Musical? They’re all going to do a bunch of soccer tricks on stage while they sing the song is what I’ve heard. People usually relate it to the show they’re in some type of way.” says Armin

Before the rest of them can explain more, the lights dim and you focus your head to the front, the show starting. You don’t really recognize the hosts or anyone in the room - which to you is a sign that you really should start paying attention - and you try to focus on what they’re saying.

They’re cracking jokes about different people in the industry, which Eren explains to you in your ear as they talk. What the jokes mean, who they’re talking about, what shows they’re from. They even crack a joke about you and Eren.

“The cast of Attack on Titan is here tonight.”

The statement is met with an array of cheers in the room, and in true Connie and Reiner fashion, they’re both standing up for no reason, bowing to the crowd. That just garners them both a cascading sound of laughter from the audience, which only gets louder when Erwin yanks Connie and Reiner down by the ear.

“Getting to watch the story unfold, all the twists and turns - it’s almost impossible not to pay attention to such a thrilling story. I’m sure we can’t say the same for our hosting skills, because our sweet leads Y/N and Eren have been whispering in each other's ears the entire time instead of listening to us.”

The light flashes in yours and Eren’s faces, the two of you with widened expressions as you laugh at everyone staring you down. And when Eren says, sorry what did you say? with a confused tone in his voice, the entire audience laughs and then they move on.

Somewhere around a third of the way into the show, the usher comes to the seats, whispering in your ear that it’s time for you to come backstage.

Right. You’re supposed to be presenting an award with another actor. And you totally forgot.

You turn to your right to look at Eren and before you can even express the panic, he’s already settling you down. Eren Jaeger, mind reader.

“You’ll be fine. You just have to stand there and present the award. He’s really weird but he’s nice most of the time.”

"What? I can’t do this, Eren. They’re all going to be staring at me and I don’t even-”

Mikasa and Bertholdt’s hands are on your shoulder, squeezing twice as the usher leads you along. You turn back to look at Eren, and he gives you a warm smile as you try to focus on the task at hand.

When you get backstage, everyone is in a frenzy. There are so many different crew members running around - microphones in their ears, sound-checking mics, making sure that the video on the screen stops playing on time. It reminds you of the chaos on set that you like to watch, except this is entirely more nerve-wracking because of the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

You tap on the guy closest to you, a boy that can’t be much older than you with pink hair.

“Hi. I’m supposed to present the award next, do you have any idea who I’m supposed to be presenting with?”

“Ah. That would be Ryomen Sukuna.”

“Oh. I’ve never heard of him.”

He frowns, squinting his eyes at you as you lean forward. You take a second to take him in more closely, his perfectly fitted suit with a black tie. You’re not sure why, but you swear you know him from somewhere.

“You’ve never heard of him? Ever?”

You shake your head as he starts laughing, the grin on his face so wide. And before you can ask what’s so funny, they’re pushing you onto stage, the bright lights shining in your face. You scan the crowd for Eren, who mouths it’s okay before you and him start.

You clear your throat as you turn to the guy, who you now realize is the same pink-haired guy from backstage.

“Wait. What are you doing here?”

He laughs - and the entire audience does too - as he turns to you, a devious grin in his eyes. He holds his hand out, which you return, as he introduces himself.

“Hi Y/N. I’m Ryomen Sukuna.”

You feel your eyes widen as he lifts your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before he continues. You can feel your mind running in circles as you clutch the envelope in your hand, zoning back in to pay attention to him.

“You know, you and Eren spend all night giggling, talking about god knows what. Of course, this asshole never mentions me.”

And then you remember. Pink hair, Ry. Ryomen Sukuna. He’s Eren’s roommate, from the movie he was just filming.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I remember now, you’re Eren’s roommate and-”

“You’re standing here with me and you’re talking about Eren?”

“Ah, I-”

“You keep me up all night by calling Eren and you don’t even know my name. And then I'm trying to have a moment with you and you're talking about another guy?”

He's doing a bit. Right. Because from what you could tell, almost everyone who presents an award does one. Maybe this is just his.

“I'm sorry?”

The entire audience laughs at your words and Sukuna rolls his eyes, saying something about how hard it is to impress girls these days, as he hands you a lollipop.

“What’s this for?”

“The people sitting in the front row, Y/N. It’s obviously for you.” he deadpans.

“Oh, okay that’s kind of weird. Thanks!”

The audience laughs as you unwrap the lollipop, handing the envelope to Sukuna so you can do it properly.

“It’s about that time. Ready to read the name, Y/N?”

You nod as you take the lollipop out of your mouth, handing it to Sukuna and you focus on ripping the golden tape on the envelope. Except as you’re opening it, the entire crowd starts laughing and you’re not entirely sure why.

“Am I that bad at opening this or something?”

They laugh even more, which makes you turn to Sukuna for reassurance, which is when you see it. Sukuna just put your lollipop in his mouth. Like, the lollipop with your saliva all over it in his mouth.

“Hey! I was eating that.”

He pops it out of his mouth and holds it in between you, smirking at you.

“Want it back, sweetheart?”

You take it from his hands and shove it back into his mouth - which at this point, the audience is literally screaming at the two of you - as you open up the envelope. And when you read the name and hand the award over, you and Sukuna exit the stage, bickering as you get off.

“You’re such a weirdo freak. I did want to eat that lollipop.”

“Then eat it. There’s still some left, sweetheart,” he says, a joking tone present in his voice.

“You’re so gross. That’s like literally sharing saliva.”

“We can do that in other ways too if you want.”

“Ew. Are you always like this?”

You both laugh as you exit the stage, back into the panic behind the curtains. As people move around you and him, taking mic boxes off, you turn to him.

“Okay, okay. Let’s start over. I’m Y/N L/N. No more sassing me because I forgot you name.”

He gives you a glimmering smile, holding his hand out.

“Okay, okay. Ryomen Sukuna. Call him in the middle of the night and I will do this again.”

As you both continue talking, a group of people join him at his side, clearly his friends. Another boy with pink hair, who looks literally identical to him, a shorter boy with black spiky hair, and two girls - one with green hair and one with brown.

They’re all yanking Sukuna by the ears, telling him that he - as always - is doing too much.

The boy with pink hair turns to you, the look on his face apologetic.

“He’s always like this. Menacing. We sincerely apologize.”

You smile, holding your hand out to him as he repeats his name and the rest of them follow suit.. Itadori Yuuji. Megumi Fushiguro. Nobara Kugisaki and Maki Zenin.

“We’re the cast of Jujutsu Kaisen.” responds Nobara, as she flicks Sukuna on the forehead.

“Ah. I’m one of the cast members of-”

“Attack on Titan.” they all respond in unison, smiling at you.

After a few minutes, you’re joined by a group of your own friends - Ymir, Reiner, Marco, and Eren - as well as Levi and a taller man with white hair.

Marco and Ymir give you warm smiles and squeezes on the shoulder as they congratulate you for doing a good job, saying that the reception was really funny and that you and Sukuna are trending on Twitter. Eren's uncharacteristically silent, brooding in the corner. Before you can mention it, Sukuna beats you to it.

“Eren. Do you need to take a shit?” says Sukuna, leaning forward to smile at him.

“What?” Eren responds.

“You look agitated as fuck. Like you have to take a shit.”

Ymir and Reiner laugh, poking Eren’s cheeks and teasing him, as you move to the side, paying attention to Levi’s conversation.

“All they do is cuss. I need to start actually punishing them or they’re going to end up cursing like sailors in a few years.”

“Tell me about it, Satoru. Jean is actually horrible, I will genuinely wash his mouth out with soap the next time he says fuck near me.”

Satoru. Satoru Gojo. You may not know many celebrities, but you sure know this one.

He’s a triple threat.

“When I got cast on a show with a bunch of kids, I didn’t realize I was going to become a father.” sighs Satoru, grinning at the group of them as he talks.

“You’re not our father.” the group of them respond, breaking from their own conversations to shoot him down.

Levi laughs as he looks down at you, placing a hand in your hair as you join their conversation. Satoru crouches down to your height, smiling at you as he talks.

“Good job. That was real funny, kid.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Are you as rude to Levi as my kids are to me?” Satoru asks.

“We’re not your kids.” respond Megumi and Nobara, breaking from their conversation again.

“He does kind of remind me of my dad! He always gives good advice on set and helps me and-”

Levi crouches down, glaring at you.

“I’m not your dad.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

Marco and Reiner walk over, holding onto Levi’s arms as they respond.

“Yes, you are.”

You all turn your heads to Satoru, who is now pouting.

“They cast the wrong kids in my show. Mine are so ungrateful,” he says, leaning down to pinch Megumi’s ear, which he just returns by literally smacking Satoru off.

You all laugh as you get directed back into your seats, as it’s time to present the next award. You wave them all goodbyes as you start walking in line with Eren, who you now realize you hadn’t talked to the entire time. His jaw is locked, an implacable look in his face. You reach down and tangle your hand with his, to which he finally looks over at you.

“Hey. Was it okay?”

He stops in his tracks, letting Ymir, Marco, and Reiner walk forward, as you stand in the outskirts of the curtain.

“It was good, Y/N. Really good.” he sighs.

“So why are you upset?”

He frowns as he looks over at you, his mouth in a straight line.

“It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not, Eren. Just tell me!”

“Imannoyedhekissedyourhand” he murmurs quickly, under his breath.

“Sorry, what was that? It’s kind of loud in here.”

“igotjealousseeingyouguysupthere.” he murmurs again, his cheeks turning red.

You lean completely into his space, looking straight into his green eyes.

“Sorry, Eren. One more time, yeah?”

“I’m annoyed he kissed your hand! It made me jealous because that should have been me and not him and he’s just doing that because I-”

Before he can finish, you start laughing, which stops Eren in his tracks and now he’s glaring at you.

“Quit making fun of me, Y/N.”

“I’m not! It’s just so cute, Eren. You’re so-”

“I’m glad you find my personal torture cute, Y/N.”

“Personal torture? Did you get more dramatic from the last time I saw you?”

“Imagine being me. I just watched an idiot, a real life blathering idiot like Sukuna, kiss your hand before I got to do it. And I was sitting next to Connie too. That’s so annoying and now everyone is going to make fun of me and-”

And now you get it. He’s…jealous. Of Sukuna. From what Itadori and Maki told you, Sukuna’s kind of infamous for being a cheeky little shit, going about things as he pleases. And Eren’s feeling possessive because you’re best friends. Connie being a little bitch probably didn’t help matters either.

You’re not sure where you garner up this uncharacteristic courage or boldness from, but you hold out your left hand to Eren.

“What? Trying to rub it in my face now? You’re worse than Ymir.”

“No, no. Sukuna kissed my right hand. But he didn’t kiss my left, so you can just do it now.”

You watch his eyes widen and his face turn positively red as he starts blabbering, awkwardly pushing his hands through his hair and teetering on his heels.

“Huh? What? You can’t just- you’re just saying that. This is weird. You’re-you? What? I can’t like- oh my god. What the-”

You place one of your hands on his shoulder as you look at him, trying to muster the sweetest smile you can.

“Eren. Please?”

The ask makes him give in and he shakily places his hand in yours, lifting your knuckles against his mouth as he places a soft kiss in between your second and third knuckle. And when you smile at him again, positively gleaming, Eren curses your existence. He hates you for making him feel like this.

“Screw you, Y/N.”

“What? What happened now?”

"You. You’re annoying.”

You roll your eyes as you and Eren walk back to your seats, hands locked together and already met with a barrage of insults from Sasha and Annie. They’re pinching Eren’s cheeks, mimicking Sukuna taking your lollipop, the rest of them all teasing him.

But when you look over and smile at Eren, which he returns, you both focus your heads back on the show, the speakers talking. And when Eren drives away at the end of the night, you hold onto the feeling.

Just one more month until you’re back together. All of you, for real.

next chapter linked here

taglist: @platromm @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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nataliasquote · 2 months

Text

Ghost Of You | n romanoff

Summary: learning to move on after Natasha’s sacrifice is the hardest thing in the world

Warnings: mentions of grief, loss, Natasha’s death

wc: 3.2k

note: this is an old fic I wrote ages ago, but I used to love it. I’ve given you enough fluff now anyway… also inspired by the song ‘Ghost of You’ by 5SOS.

- ⧗ -

Four months.

It'd been four months since she died.

Four months without Natasha.

And Y/n keep telling everyone she was fine, but there was a part of her that kept saying that her Natasha wasn’t really gone.

And it's the irrational part of her brain.

But she missed that redhead more than anyone knew.

Words couldn’t begin explain how much she missed her.

It was painful. It felt as though the world had come crashing down, plunging everything into total darkness. And when there was light, colour ceased to exist. Because what was a life without a purpose or reason to live?

Her sun. Gone.

Her home. Gone

Nothing left except harsh reminders of what could have been. There was no future anymore. Y/n spent her days in the past, tangled in memories that were wearing with age. A distorted version of her reality that became harder to grasp with every day that slipped by. The memories were slipping through her fingers, no matter how hard she tried.

Yelena was left to pick up the pieces her sister had left behind. A crumbled widow, her whole life a subject of loss, yet somehow she remained an iron fortress throughout it all. Y/n was family, something Yelena didn’t have much of, or knew much about, but she would be damned if anything happened to her now. She wasn’t sure she could handle another loss.

Y/n had taken residence in her spare room, the barren walls now burdened with grief. It settled across the floor like an unsettling blanket, smothering all who dared to step foot over the threshold.

But Yelena soldiered on. It was down to her to pull Y/n out of the pits she had crawled into in her mind, and today no different. The door creaked from lack of use, the room’s darkness only broken up by the light spilling around the old curtains. A body lay curled up in bed, but the blonde knew she was not asleep.

Against her instincts, Yelena made sure her boots were loud on the exposed floorboards, alerting the jumpy woman of her presence. She crouched slowly, a hand reaching out to land on Y/n’s knee softly.

"You ok?" She asked, receiving no movement or change of expression. Y/n’s eyes were heavy, but not with lack of sleep. This tiredness extended further than that; a tiredness of life. “Y/n, it’s me.”

A mumble came as a reply, which Yelena took as a positive. Some days received absolutely no recognition, so a sound or nod was progress.

“Any idea of what you want to do today?” She probed again, moving over to the curtains to draw them back slightly. Y/n winced at the light, another good sign. The outside air was cool and a welcome refreshment as the Russian pushed the rusty window open a fraction.

“Bed and sleep,” came the reply. A possible plan, yes, but not exactly what Yelena was thinking.

“How about we go somewhere today?” Y/n didn’t look convinced. “Natasha would want you to, you know that.”

“Don’t say her name!” Y/n cried, her voice breaking from lack of use and raw emotion. She refused to mention Natasha anymore, too afraid of what was lying just below the surface if she did.

But something had switched in Yelena overnight, and she turned around quickly. “She was my sister. I have every right to say her name Y/n.” That was clearly the wrong thing to say, but what did she know? Yelena had barely been out of the Red Room for two years. Social cues weren’t a strong suit. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just know she wouldn’t want you moping around grieving her like this. She would want you to go out and live your life. See the world.”

"How can I see the world when she was my world." Y/n whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks and soaking into her pillow. "I loved her but never got to show her properly. There is so much more I could have done for her. If I'd just had more time." Yelena crouched down and helped her sit up, offering a tissue to clean herself up a bit.

"I have a suggestion for you. I was talking to Wanda yesterday and we think it might be a good idea if you go back there."

Y/n looked up at her with red and puffy eyes. “Back where?”

“Back home, Y/n. The apartment that you and Natasha shared. You’ve still got lots of your stuff there and I’m sure there’s some things of hers you want.”

Y/n had stopped listening at the word ‘home’. Home wasn’t a place, it never had been. It was a feeling. A person. Y/n would never be able to go home anymore. An empty apartment ridden with memories wasn’t somewhere she wanted to be. Not without Natasha to breathe life into those four walls. Without her it was just dark. Lifeless.

Just like how she felt right now.

Yet her response was surprising. An “ok” tumbled past her lips before she could even register what she was saying, taking both her and Yelena by surprise. She leaned against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest, staring at a dark spot on the duvet cover.

“Ok? I’ll be there the whole time, don’t worry. How about I give you some time to get ready and I’ll meet you out by the truck?” Y/n nodded, her eyes not moving, and Yelena took that as her cue to leave.

A shower felt like too much work, so Y/n dragged her hair into a ponytail and let it hang limply, too exhausted to try and do anything with it. The yellowing light in the bathroom only emphasised her dark circles and she eyed her make up bag that sat balanced on the edge of the sink.

Concealer barely helped, as did mascara, but Y/n tried all the same, almost willing herself to look better. If Natasha saw her in this state she would have crumbled, but she wasn’t there so Y/n couldn’t find it within her to care.

Placing her mascara back in the bag, her fingertips brushed over a familiar tube. She pulled it out and stared at it carefully, the writing old and faded on the packaging. But there was no mistaking Natasha’s favourite red lipstick. She refused to use any other shade and it always looked so vibrant against her pale skin. But looking at it now, it just looked so dull.

Y/n pressed her lips to it gently and slipped it into her pocket, where it nestled alongside a folded photograph and a promise ring.

Natasha’s promise ring. The one she used to wear alongside her wedding ring. The wedding ring that matched the one currently strung around her neck, too obnoxious to stay on her finger now.

Their key to everlasting happiness.

But what good was a key on its own? Useless without its matching component, a harsh reminder of what could have been but never will be.

Yelena was sat in the back seat of the truck with Fanny, giving the Akita belly rubs which he clearly loved. She looked up at Y/n and smiled, climbing through to settle into the drivers seat. “Fanny doesn’t know the meaning of stay yet, so I’ll bring him along. But he won’t come inside.”

Y/n nodded, and placed her elbow on the window edge, her cheek falling into her palm. The gentle hum of the engine combined with the smoothness of the road pulled her back into her head, memories swirling around but never fully making themselves known. Y/n was in the muddy middle ground, somewhere between numbness and a breakdown.

After an hour the car came to a stop. She knew this parking lot. Knew which space Nat always kept her bike in. She was always so particular.

Holding the key tightly in her fist, Y/n ascended the metal stairs, ignoring the way the rough edges of the key dug into her skin and left an imprint. She knew how to wiggle it into the lock just enough to get it to turn, muscle memory taking over.

As she opened the door, the living room was dark. A light layer of dust covered all the surfaces from the lack of use, and small slits of lights peaked through the closed curtains. There were books piled on the table and a couple of old beer bottles stranded on the floor. Y/n looked around in a daze, completely absorbed by the change of atmosphere. This place used to be so full of life. But now it was dull and barren.

Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes glanced to the floor. By the door, like they'd just been taken off, was Nat's pair of old converse. They were once black, but now sported a dark grey colour, having been worn so often. She wore them everywhere when she wasn't working.

Y/n bent down and picked them up, looping the laces over her fingers so she could easily carry them with her. The kitchen door was open, so she carried on walking, almost in a trance. Yelena hadn’t entered yet, wanting to give her some privacy in her old home.

The kitchen was brighter as the blinds were open, and everything was just as they had left it. A pile of clean dishes on the rack, just waiting to be put away. Nat's collection of weird keychains that she collected from every place she visited. A pile of hair ties and bobby pins that always disappeared. But most importantly, the fridge.

It was used more like their main photo album. Photos covered the silver metal, miscellaneous magnets holding photos of the couple onto it. There was a picture of Nat kissing Y/n on the beach, the first date we ever went on as an official couple. Even in the one captured moment, you could see how tender Natasha was, cupping Y/n’a face with her rough palms like she was a priceless jewel. Looking at it, she could still feel her touch.

There were a few candid ones from their trip to Europe and even some from their wedding day. But the one in the middle made her heart ache.

Nat laying on a picnic blanket in the park, her hair pulled back in a half up messy braid. She was lying on her stomach with a book open out in front of her, legs bent up behind her with those damn converse on her feet. She had the biggest smile on her face and she was laughing into the camera. Y/n remembered that day so vividly and she started to cry. She could never feel that way again, so happy, so relaxed.

"Damn it!” She yelled, slamming her hand onto the counter and taking a shaky breath in.

"Y/N?" a voice questioned, breaking her out of her mini outburst. Y/n quickly turned around to find the source of the voice, which was coming from the door way. The shoes fell out of her hand as she layed eyes upon the woman stood in the doorway.

Red hair was the first thing Y/n noticed.

Arms wide. A big smile on her face.

Not wasting any time, she ran into her open arms and felt herself being picked up, bodies spinning around like they always used to do. Both women were both giggling and smiling at each other, tears running down their faces.

"Oh my god you're actually here! I thought you left me" Y/n cried, grabbing onto Natasha’s face and planting kisses everywhere. Her nose, cheeks, jaw, everywhere she had missed being able to feel beneath her fingertips suddenly felt so real and she could sense the weight being lifted off her chest. It just felt right.

"I would never leave you baby." Natasha said, before their lips met in a bruising kiss.

"I knew you wouldn't. I knew you'd come back for me!" Y/n couldn’t help but laugh against her lips, the worry and sadness leaving her body, making her lighter. There were truly no words to describe it, but feeling Natasha’s lips on hers and her green eyes bringing so much warmth and safety into her body, Y/n never wanted to leave again.

Music started playing softly and Nat looked at the girl in her arms. "Can I have this dance, my beautiful wife?" She wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist, who placed hers loosely around her neck as they started to sway. She didn't know where the music was coming from, but she didn't care. All thst was in her brain was the fact that she was here with Natasha. Finally.

They danced to the music, waltzing around the kitchen, eyes fixated on each other. Y/n felt as giddy as she did when they shared their first kiss, her hands feeling the way Natasha’s hair was so soft as it brushed her fingertips. The way her hands felt on her body gave Y/n a sense of relief and she sighed, resting her head on Natasha’s shoulder. She leaned her head on top of her wife’s and wrapped her arms tighter around her waist, still swaying to the beat. They fit together so perfectly, like a key in a lock.

"I've missed this." Y/n muttered into Natasha’s neck who hummed in agreement.

"Me too" she husked. God, that voice. She’d missed that too.

As the song picked up, Nat released Y/n from her arms and spun her around, twirling her around the floor like a ballerina. The redhead scooped her up in her arms and spun around, their laughter filling the once empty room. Y/n was taller than Natasha when Nat picked her up, so she gazed down at her and grinned, the same look adorning both of their faces. Love. Admiration. Relief.

As Natasha slowly lowered Y/n to the ground, they met each other with another kiss. The song slowly faded away in the background and they gradually stopped moving, but stayed in each other's arms.

"I see you found my converse?" Natasha pointed out, and Y/n turned around to see where she was looking.

"Oh yeah. I picked them up because I didn't know you were here." She couldn’t help but blush.

Natasha bent down and picked them up, handing them back over with a soft look in her eyes. "You keep them. They look better on you anyway." She said, flashing her signature smile.

"Are you sure?" Y/n asked, her brows creasing in the middle. “These were your favourite shoes!"

"I can always get some more if I need them."

Y/n looped the laces around her fingers once more and pulled Nat into another hug, just breathing in her scent. There was no perfume to distract her, just purely Natasha. Tears started rolling down her cheeks as the familiar scent she knew and loved filled her nose. The smell of home.

They finally pulled away and Natasha took a couple of steps back, leaning on the door frame as she had done previously.

"You know I love you Y/N. I always have and I always will. Don't you ever forget that." She said, folding her arms and smiling at the woman in front of her.

"I love you too,” Y/n whispered and Natasha blew her a kiss.

"Y/n?" Another voice called from behind her. It was Yelena this time, the blonde having waited for long enough outside. She placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and followed her gaze to where Natasha had been stood.

"I love you" Y/n muttered again, tears streaming down her face.

"Y/n who are you talking to?" Yelena asked, worry lacing her words.

"Nat. She's right there." She said, pointing to Natasha in the doorway.

"What? Detka, Nat's not here. What are you talking about?" Yelena asked. Y/n turned around to face her and then looked back to where Natasha was standing.

Or where she was standing. Except now that spot was empty.

She wasn’t there.

"She was there! She was just there! No!" The girl was in distress, shouting and crying as she ran around, checking everywhere in the apartment.

"Y/n what's going on?" Yelena asked hesitantly, her concerned increasing by the second. What had she missed?

“She’s gone! Nat left! She left me again! No, she promised she wouldn’t leave me again.” She was a sobbing mess, collapsing to her knees in the middle of the apartment, no longer caring about the dust that thickly coated the floor. Yelena rushed to her side and knelt down, pulling her into a hug. She rocked the sobbing girl gently, tightening her grip as she felt Y/n clutch at her shirt to ground herself. She was muttering frantically, incoherent sentences flowing into each other.

"Y/n, Nat's gone. She isn't coming back." It was harsh, but Yelena had to say it. The truth stung.

"She was just here." Y/n whimpered. "We danced together. I felt her. She was real!"

"Oh Y/n. That wasn’t real."

"It was real to me!" She pressed her head back into Yelena’s shoulder and continued to cry, laboured breaths dragging themselves through her constricted lungs, clawing at her insides and almost begging to break through her chest.

And the whole time those stupid converse were in her hand.

She never let them go.

They were the last thing Y/n ever got from her.

The only thing close enough to serve as a final reminder.

Of Nat.

Her Nat.

Natasha Romanoff.

Daughter. Sister. Avenger.

Wife.

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #yelena belova

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whatsthethinking · 11 months

Text

Somebody's Lover - Lo'ak Ver.

Lo'ak x Fem!Taipani Reader

❧ Word count: 3.9k

❧ Warning: Lo’ak being called a demon (not to his face)

❧ Note: Based of this request. This isn’t the same as Neteyam’s because Lo'ak deserves his own story but I did try and keep a similar premise, I think.

After Neteyam had made it official to the clan that he was in a relationship with someone, who would ultimately become his mate. It was like the youth of the clan had been scrambling to figure out what to do next. If they can’t have Neteyam, who can they have?

Lo’ak.

It was almost overnight that the shift happened. Instead of people trying to win Neteyam’s favour, they were in search of Lo’ak’s and it was safe to say the boy was less than impressed. It was clear to him that he was the second choice. Lo’ak soon became hostile towards the people that would approach him with their false smiles and intentions.

Do they think I’m stupid?

Where Neteyam would decline people’s requests with regret in his voice, Lo’ak was harsh and to the point. But that didn’t deter them.

A good thing to come out of Neteyam’s relationship was that Lo’ak was able to make a friend, Kalä. The two boys had become inseparable. Kalä’s a few years younger than Lo’ak but that didn’t change anything. They treated each other as equals, Kalä was so interested in humans and their technology that he befriended Spider without hesitation. It was nice to see.

Lo’ak and Kalä joked with one another on their short journey; they hadn’t made a plan for the day. Kalä wanted to go swimming but his sister kept reminding the pair that the boy wasn’t the strongest swimmer but he was very insistent to the point where they had to ‘compromise’. They would go swimming but only in shallow water. Lo’ak swore to his brother and his soon-to-be mate along with all the adults surrounding them that he would watch Kalä closely.

“What about Yaro?” Kalä questioned, jumping over a low branch, “My sister said she’s nice… enough.”

“Absolutely not. She used to be so horrible to Kiri.”

“Mmm, what about Moäì? She has nice eyes and she’s good at making stuff.”

“She’s friends with Tahé.”

“But she loves you.” The younger boy teased.

Lo’ak stopped abruptly, the forest had suddenly become eerily quiet. He stepped closer to Kalä, ready to shield the younger boy from potential danger. And that’s when he saw it, a thanator creeping towards them, low to the ground ready to pounce.

Lo’ak could hear Kalä breath hitch in his throat.

“Do not scream.” Lo’ak’s voice firm, “Do not move. On my command, you run.”

“Where?” He questioned, his voice quivering.

“Anywhere.”

Lo’ak didn’t have a plan but he knew Kalä was his priority, the young boy was shaking against his arm.

“Ready?”

As the pair ran, Lo’ak managed to hoist Kalä into a tree, hoping the boy would get himself high enough. Just as he was to climb himself, the thanator charged towards him, narrowly missing Lo’ak as he threw himself to the side. Rolling down a small hill.

“Lo’ak!” Kalä cried, Lo’ak could tell he was ready to jump out of the tree to help.

“No! Go back to camp, I’ll see you there!”

Lo’ak didn’t wait to see if the boy heard, taking off into the dense forest, the thanator close behind.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

What is he meant to do now?

The thanator snaps forward, causing Lo’ak to duck through a narrow opening between tree roots hoping to catch his breath but the thanator was relentless. Clawing viciously at the intertwined roots to catch its prey. Lo’ak shuffled backward hoping there was a way to escape but just his luck, this tree was at the edge of a cliff. He quickly glanced around in a panic trying to weigh his options.

He could either: sit here and let the thanator get in here and rip him to shreds. Try to fight the thanator but he didn’t have his bow, dropping it when trying to help Kalä. Or he could throw himself off the edge of the cliff and pray to Eywa that he doesn’t die. No option was looking to be successful.

While Lo’ak was frantically trying to find a way to survive this encounter, he failed to notice that the thanator had stopped trying to eat him. It was silent, aside from his heavy breathing. Hesitantly, he leaned forward, trying to see through the gaps to see what was happening.

He was able to see the thanator slumped on the floor, a spear wrapped in thick twine embedded deeply into its head. Lo’ak paused in confusion before slowly making his way out of his hiding spot.

Standing there, on the other side of a thanator, was a girl Lo’ak assumed was his age. Clearly not from his clan. Her hair was braided out of her face and what seemed to be armour decorated her shoulders and chest. She stood tall, unnerved by the sight before her. The air around her seemed strong yet mysterious. The expression on her face is stoic as her eyes ran the length of Lo’ak body before stopping to meet his gaze.

“Come.” she voiced before turning swiftly, and walking away from Lo’ak. She left little room for him to argue, so he briskly trailed behind her. His sloppy movements made enough noise for the two of them.

He followed the unnamed girl until they reached the river connected to the waterfall, his original destination with Kalä. He spotted a lone direhorse grazing in the distance. The girl motioned Lo’ak to follow her as she squatted down, opening a small pouch that he had seen healers in his clan carry.

“Sit.”

Lo’ak followed her demand and sat down in front of her, crossing his legs. He watched as she took out a piece of fabric and dipped it into the river before lifting it out and squeezing the excess water out of it. Lo’ak noted that all of her movements were fluid and graceful.

She reached forward and the wet cloth to the side of Lo’ak’s forehead causing him to hiss quietly and pull away.

“Stop it.” She hissed, grabbing his chin lightly and bringing him back to face her.

Her hand didn’t move from its place on his face as she continued to dab his forehead. Lo’ak stared at her while she did so. Her face held no expression but her eyes were kind. She slowly moved the cloth down to under his eye, tabbing softly. Lo’ak wanted to recoil but the tender hold on his chin kept him in place.

Diving back into her small pouch, the girl pulled out a small jar and Lo’ak was able to recognise the smell as soon as she took the lid off. It was a salve that his grandmother often used on clan members when they would get injured. It stung like no other but it was able to heal wounds quickly.

“Wait!” Lo’ak stalled, his hand circling the girl's wrist before she was able to touch his face. Her face remained neutral as she shook her wrist free from his grip with little effort and dabbed the salve on the grazes on his face. Lo’ak winced every time but didn’t move away.

Unexpectedly, the girl raised herself to her knees, holding the sides of Lo’ak’s head softly, blowing on his wounds. The action made his breath hitch. It was comforting, something his parents would do when he was younger, he knew it didn’t do anything to take away the pain but he appreciated it.

The girl leaned back, studying Lo’ak’s face before standing and turning to the river, washing her hands.

“Come. I will take you home.”

The girl made a clicking noise, causing the direhorse to raise its head and make its way over. The girl muttered something to the creature before making the bond and mounting it with ease. She leaned over the side and held her arm out to Lo’ak, who took it without hesitation. Once he was settled, he kept one of his hands on his thighs, and the other lightly on her shoulder, not sure what he should do. The girl sighed before reaching behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Here.”

Lo’ak didn’t even have time to blush as the direhorse lurched forward, breaking into a gallop. The forest blurs around them.

—

After a while, the direhorse’s pace slowed before coming to a stop. In the distance, Lo’ak could hear a commotion coming from his clan. He internally winced at the idea of what could be happening.

“Thank you for helping me,” Lo’ak mumbled, eyes in the distance.

“You are welcome.”

Lo’ak relaxed slightly, his hold around the girl’s waist slacking causing his hands to slowly fall to the top of her thighs. Which the girl did not react to. Clan members started to appear in the area, circling the pair. Jake stepped through the crowd, a look of relief on his face before he raised an eyebrow at his son. Lo’ak face flushed, almost instantaneously. He moved his hands like they had touched a naked flame and he scrambled to get off the creature.

“Thanks again.”

The girl nodded, before commanding the creature to turn away from the gathering clan members.

—

Y/n dismounted the direhorse, giving it a brief pat on the side before it went on its way. Y/n skillfully manoeuvred between the trees until she made it back to her small village, coming face to face with her sister.

“You killed a thanator for that sky demon, why?”

“It was the right thing to do and he isn’t a dreamwalker.” Y/n mumbled, making her way over to her tent.

“We watched him together, sister. He has 4 fingers. A sky demon. Where did you return him?”

“Omatikaya.”

“Ah yes. They love their demons. Isn’t their Olo'eyktan one?” Her sister sniggered, brushing a stray hair out of her face. “The one you saved is probably his child or something.”

“Yes? But does it matter? He is one of the people. It doesn’t concern us.”

Y/n’s sister scoffed before she began to walk away, quickly turning with her hands on her hips.

“I retrieved your spear, by the way. Dad would lose his head if you lost it, again. Oh, the sky demons bow too.”

Y/n hummed and nodded her head in acknowledgement. When she arrived at her tent and away from watching eyes, y/n rolled her eyes at her sister’s behaviour while taking off her armour. The boy from the Omatikaya seemed nice and y/n had to admit that he was handsome, dreamwalker or not. Looking at the bow resting against her trusted spear, y/n thought of how she was going to return the bow to the boy, ultimately deciding to just take it to him.

—

A few days later, with her mind made up, she began her journey, slinging the bow into her back and her spear in hand. It did not take her long to reach the outskirts of the Omatikaya village.

Doing what she does best, she hid out of view high in the trees, keeping as still as possible which was second nature to her. Not long after she was settled, y/n spotted a girl her age slip into the forest beneath her, a smaller girl running behind her.

“Kiri! Wait for me!”

Y/n dropped down softly and started to walk around the edge of the camp before she finally spotted the Olo’eyktan. Just as she was about to take a step to approach him, y/n was pushed from the side, the force did little to knock her off balance, her lack of movement caused whoever pushed her, to toppled over.

“Who are you?!” The girl, now on the floor, screeched which brought much attention.

Y/n didn’t reply, instead firmly securing her spear into the ground, observing the girl before her.

“Why are you here?!” The girl questioned again, getting to her feet and into a stance that would ‘protect’ her. Y/n could sense the nervousness rolling off her in waves.

“Tahé! Put the knife away.” The Olo'eyktan’s authoritative voice rang through the air.

Y/n’s lip quirked up at the side and she watched Tahé step back, her ‘confident’ demeanour slipping away instantaneously.

The Olo'eyktan finally made his way to the pair, his eyes landing on y/n, a look of confusion crossed his face briefly before it settled on a neutral expression but his eyes were curious.

“Hello. We met the other day, right? What brings you here again?”

Without a word, y/n slipped the bow off of her body and held it towards the older man.

“Oh.” He voiced, taking it slowly, “Thank you.”

Nodding, y/n nodded, pulling her spear out of its place and began to walk away from the growing crowd, leaving the Olo'eyktan stunned. As she reached the tree line, a blur came bounding towards her, only skidding to a stop then the tip of y/n’s spear was inches away from their throat.

“Hi! Sorry. You walk really fast. I would’ve called your name but I don’t know it.” The boy chuckled, “Thank you for bringing my bow back, I wasn't exactly ready to make a new one. I’m Lo’ak by the way.”

“Hmm.” Y/n lowered her spear, ready to continue on her journey but Lo’ak had other plans in mind. Stepping in front of her.

“Why don’t you stay for lunch? You saved my life, fixed my face and returned my bow. It’s the least I could do.”

Y/n watched him closely as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a slightly nervous look on his face, his eyes sometimes flickering to her side where she noticed the two girls from earlier standing there. The younger girl looked nervous whereas the older girl looked hopeful.

“Okay.”

Lo’ak let out a shaky breath before nodding, “Good, good. Uh, follow me.”

—

The lunch was an interesting sight to see. Kiri had taken an instant liking to the girl, who had finally introduced herself as y/n. She had spoken briefly to Neytiri, the older woman seemed to be very approving of her. Kalä had come to join them, showering Lo’ak’s guest with gratitude. The younger boy even gives y/n a bone-crushing hug, the girl awkwardly patting his back in confusion.

“You don’t speak much.” Lo’ak pointed out.

“No.”

“Right, thank you again for the other day.”

Y/n nodded and Lo’ak grinned bashfully as she retreated into the forest silently.

Neteyam snuck up to his brother, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders, causing him to jump.

“My baby bro, in love,” Neteyam commented cheerfully.

“I am not.”

“Tell that to your face.”

Lo’ak shook his brother off, stalking back to the family tent, Neteyam laughing behind him. His soon-to-be mate coming up beside him, telling the older boy that it’s not funny.

—

The following day, Lo’ak woke up early to go on a walk. He wasn’t sure, he loved sleeping in but it felt like a need. He grabbed his bow, a few arrows and hopped over Kiri before starting his journey. There weren't many people awake, the sun was yet to rise.

Lo’ak absentmindedly walked through the forest, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Above him, the leaves rustled which caused him to pause, waiting for something to happen but there wasn’t a change in the atmosphere so he continued. He looked up slightly to see the sun peeking through the vast trees. Momentarily, the sun was blocked out by a dark figure moving swiftly.

Lo’ak readied his bow but before he could aim, a hand touched his back, startling him. Spinning on the spot, Lo’ak was met with y/n. He immediately noticed the difference in appearance, her hair was free of its braids. She wasn’t dressed in her armour nor was she holding her spear. Instead, she had her bow and arrow in hand and a hunting knife by her hip. It was a different look for her completely, she looked relaxed, and the air around her was still strong but less mysterious.

“Wow.”

“What?”

Lo’ak cleared his throat, taking a step back, “Nothing. Hi.”

“Why are you walking about at this time?” Y/n questioned, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I am going to wash my hair.”

“This early?”

“Yes,” Y/n nodded as she began to walk, “before my sister wakes.”

“Can I come?”

—

This is how the two interacted for the following months. Some days, Lo’ak would wake up early and go for a walk, y/n always found him. Or, the pair would go ‘hunting’ which was more y/n teaching Lo’ak how to be lighter on his feet and focus on his other senses.

Y/n checked the cloth covering Lo’ak’s eyes once more before standing in front of him again, placing small rocks that she had dipped in red paint in the palm of his hand.

“Explain this to me again please.” A defeated sigh left his lips.

“I’m testing your hearing and reaction time.”

“But I might hurt you.”

“I doubt that you will.” Y/n quipped, circling him.

Lo’ak pulled the blindfold up on one side with his free hand, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you doubting my skills?”

“No,” y/n teased, dragging out the vowel, “Of course not.”

Lo’ak huffed as the girl covered his eyes again. Y/n stood at a reasonable distance away before tapping two sticks together. Lo’ak’s ears twitched before he threw a rock, missing the girl completely.

“So, where are these skills?”

“I’m warming up.”

Y/n moved a few steps to her left and tapped the sticks again. Lo’ak managed to get the rock closer but still missed.

“Warming up?”

“Yes,” Lo’ak grumbled, a smile gracing his lips.

Y/n did what she did best and danced around Lo’ak until she was directly behind him. Lo’ak’s ears twitched and he spun on the spot immediately and faced her. Reaching out a hand and placing a single red spot on her arm.

“See, I have skills.”

Some days, Lo’ak would have dinner with y/n’s family. On occasion, y/n would find herself in the Omatikaya camp with her father. He had become fast friends with the Olo'eyktan which was a surprise to everyone since he had made it clear time and time again that he did not want to be associated with the sky people.

During these times together, Lo’ak would catch himself staring at y/n which he would try to disguise. This didn’t go unnoticed by his family, especially when he would return to the camp with a lovesick expression and his cheeks slightly tinted.

—

“So, y/n?” Lo’ak froze on the spot at his father’s voice behind him.

“What about her?” Lo’ak questioned back, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

“Nothing really, you two just seem to be spending a lot of time together.”

“So?”

Jake broke out into a smug grin, crossing his arms and putting his weight onto one foot.

“She’s nice,” Jake started, his grin growing wider and his son’s face flushed. “A skilled warrior.”

“Yeah, she is,” Lo’ak mumbled

“You must be learning a lot from her.”

“I am.”

Kiri walked into the tent, raising her eyebrow at her brother.

“Is Lo’ak in trouble?” She questioned curiously.

“No, just in love.”

“I’m not in love,” Lo’ak said, his voice slightly wavering.

“With y/n?! Finally! Does she know?” Kiri beamed which caused Jake to chuckle slightly.

“Of course, she doesn’t know, Lo’ak doesn’t have the guts to tell her.” Jake taunted, Lo'ak's mouth flying open.

“That’s fine, I will help you, dear brother.”

Lo’ak looked between the two in disbelief.

“If I want help, I’ll ask Mum.” Lo’ak grumbled.

“So you admit it. You’re in love.”

Lo’ak gave Kiri a pointed look before stalking out of the tent, leaving his father and sister to laugh at his expense.

—

The next morning, Lo’ak woke up early but did not leave the tent, he lay stiffly as he thought back to all of his interactions with y/n. Was he in love? It was just a crush, at most. He thought.

How could he not have a crush on her? She’s beautiful.

Lo’ak heard shuffling from the other side of the tent. Someone bent down beside him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder.

“Why don’t we go for a walk,” Neytiri suggested.

Lo’ak nodded sleepily and slowly the two made their way out of the tent.

“Your father tells me you’re in love.” Neytiri started once they were a distance away from any prying ears.

Lo’ak’s cheeks flushed as he ran his hands over his face.

“I’m not ‘in love’, but I do like her.” He confessed without hesitation.

“What do you like about her?”

“She’s kind. She doesn’t speak a lot but that’s fine. She listens to me. She’s been teaching me how the Tipani hunt, it’s so fascinating, she’s fascinating...”

Lo’ak continued to list all the things he has grown to like and admire about the Tipani girl, Neytiri was sure he didn’t realise what he was truly confessing to.

“But I am not in love with her.” He concluded, looking at his mother.

“I’m sure you’re not.” Humour is evident in Neytiri’s voice, “but you should tell her of your feelings, she may feel the same way.”

“And what if she doesn’t, I don’t want to make it weird.”

“And what if she does?”

—

That evening, Lo’ak sat stiffly on a thick branch, his legs hanging over the edge. Y/n lay next to him peacefully, watching the sky.

“What’s the matter, Lo’ak?” The girl questioned, turning slightly so that she could see his face.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Y/n sat up, turning her body fully towards the boy beside her.

“Lo’ak?” Softly, y/n placed her hand on his chin, moving his face towards hers. “What is wrong?”

Lo’ak studied the girl’s face carefully. Before he could register what was happening, his lips met hers, eyes fluttering closed. The kiss was over before it started.

“Sorry.” Lo’ak’s face felt as though it was on fire as he looked away.

“It’s fine.” For the first time, y/n’s voice sounded timid.

“I didn’t mean to-.”

“Lo’ak, it’s fine.”

The pair sat in an awkward silence, neither knowing what to say or do.

Y/n cleared her throat, standing up slowly.

“I should go.”

Lo’ak looked up at her, ready to apologise again but the words were stuck in his throat as a single woodsprite floated down from the trees, followed by several more. As if she heard them, y/n spun around, shock appearing on her face. Lo’ak scrambled to his feet, almost falling over the side of the branch but he managed to steady himself as woodsprites circled him as well.

Y/n turned to face him, a smile lighting her face.

“I really, really like you, y/n.” Lo’ak confessed, lowering his gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed, “I, uh, just wanted you to know.”

“I really like you too, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak’s head perked up, his eyes widening, “Really?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Y/n stepped forward, taking his hands in hers, gently brushing her thumbs over his knuckles. The small act of affection reassured Lo’ak, any fears he had melted away.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Y/n questioned humorously.

Lo’ak nodded with a smile before placing a gentle hand under her chin, leaning in for another kiss.

—

“Finally!” Tuk yelled in the distance before Kiri slapped her hand over her sister's mouth.

“Shhh!”

Neytiri grinned to herself at the sight, little Tuk giggling behind her hand trying to keep quiet. Jake and Kiri high-fived silently behind them. Neteyam nodded to himself, kissing the back of his soon-to-be mate's hand.

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anki-of-beleriand · 6 months

Text

Bad Liar ch. 5

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - past Shuri/Female!reader

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - unrequited love - gay panic - fools in love - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: I'm back! Yes! I know it has been quite a while, life has been hard if I'm honest with you and these moments of peace had been sporacdic. Hope you like this new chapter.

This time around something happened that made R and Wanda come closer, yet far enough for them to deny whatever they want.

Thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking and reblogging the story guys! Remember that English is not my mother tongue, so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 5

Falling

Her life had been predetermined by her father the moment she had been born.

For as long as she could remember, Wanda had always been told what to do, how to act, what was expected of her. Even though her mother helped her get an education, as well as get into a career, her father had always made sure Wanda was straight as an arrow, always leading her to a ‘good man that could control and protect her’.

She found herself being introduced to Jarvis at some point, the son of one of her father’s business partners, and a classmate of hers all through the secondary, it had been decided that he would be her husband. Wanda sighed watching the picture she kept on her photo album, in there was Pietro always smiling and happy with his arm around her shoulders while Jarvis stood to her left with a possessive hold on her waist.

Pietro had never liked Jarvis, but it wasn’t his decision.

Thunder broke into the night, Wanda jumped startled watching outside the window while her eyes drifted momentarily to the stairs. She strained her ear trying to hear if the twins had woken up, but the silence of the house was only broken by the rain and the wind right outside. Wanda sat in silence and a half-lit room, the memories of her past coming over with overwhelming emotions that threatened to break her over once more.

She held onto her own strength, the smile of her children and the words of Hope and Natasha while the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“This is a long road, Wanda. You are not expected to heal overnight, but you do need to start somewhere.”

And that was precisely what she was doing, choosing the memories she wanted to keep and letting go of those she didn’t want to remember. The pictures in her photo album had change drastically the moment Jarvis showed up in her life. Soon the pictures of Pietro, her mother, and her friends disappeared, giving way to pictures of Jarvis filling up her youth invading her life in ways she never noticed until now.

She didn’t even have enough pictures of her and the twins, most of the pictures included Jarvis one way or another holding them, grabbing them, possessing them. Wanda closed the photo album feeling suddenly emotionally tired, her life had changed drastically ever since she ran from Jarvis and started working on her, her children, her career.

“One step at a time, Wanda. You just must give yourself some credit, you are doing fantastic and as long as you remember why you are doing this you will be okay.”

And Wanda knew why she was doing it.

She still had the scars, and the police report as well as the medical records of herself and Tommy. The bright, blueish light of lightning breaking into the night startled her again, this time around she redirected her eyes to the window and waited for the sound of thunder breaking into the night.

The lights in the house flickered and soon the hole house went black. Wanda stood up, her eyes going big as she heard the sudden cries coming from the twin’s room. In less than a minute she had run up the stairs entering their room, the light from the mobile helping her move through the house and the darkened room.

She was familiar with the scene welcoming her the moment she crossed the threshold of the twin’s room. Billy was holding onto Tommy, both boys had their eyes wide open though Tommy was looking drowsy and flustered while Billy was completely awake and disheveled holding onto his brother as he used to whenever they heard the screams of fighting and hitting in their parents’ room.

“Hey, guys, it’s okay, mommy is here.” Wanda approached the bed wrapping her arms around them, kissing their foreheads with a concerned frown. “It’s just rain, it will pass.”

Billy merely nodded but Tommy went from his brother to his mother, and it was then that Wanda noticed the shivering figure of Tommy, his labored breathing and the glassy eyes. Billy shot his brother a worried glance before turning his attention to his mother.

“Momma, I don’t feel good.” Tommy whispered snuggling closer to Wanda, the young woman placed her hand on the boy’s forehead feeling the warm emanating from his skin.

Panic rose inside Wanda’s mind, Tommy was burning and he wasn’t looking so good. She lifted her eyes and Billy was glancing at her with a frown adorning his face.

“Mommy?”

“Don’t worry, boys, mommy is here, okay?” Wanda cooed Tommy while trying to give Billy a reassuring smile.

Tommy closed his eyes whimpering lightly, while Billy chewed on his lower lip.

“Is Tommy okay?” He asked in a small voice, Wanda fixed the younger of the twins on the bed while helping Billy down and directing him to his own bed.

“He is baby, but he needs some space and medicine, right now he seems to have a fever and mommy needs to make sure he is okay.” Wanda explained pocking Billy on the nose, the young boy offered a weak smile, but his eyes went from Wanda and Tommy constantly.

“I’m going to grab something really quick from the bathroom, can you watch over him without going to close to Tommy?” Wanda inquired knowing the request was hard for the young boy, they had always been together through the fighting, through the punishment and even in sickness.

But Wanda didn’t have the luxury of having any help, and risking both twins to get sick was something she couldn’t afford emotionally and physically. Wanda brushed Billy’s hair placing a single kiss on his forehead. Billy scrunched up his nose, pursing his lips at the last request.

“Tommy needs me.” He mumbled crossing his arms.

“I know it’s hard, Billy, but mommy doesn’t want you catching whatever it is Tommy has.” She tried to explain to the upset kid. “Mommy needs you to be strong and help her out, can you do that for me?”

Billy pouted looking away while nodding his head curtly, Wanda hesitated for a moment before standing up, her eyes went to Tommy then back to Billy who was still looking away from her. With a heavy heart, the young woman made her way to the bathroom to look for something that might help Tommy.

In the darkened bathroom, Wanda soon realized she had never bother to buy any medicine or any kind of implements that might help in a situation such as this. She had gauze, alcohol, bandages, cotton balls, and a digital thermometer. She tried to look at her reflection, the tears she didn’t know she was shedding rolling down her cheeks while her heart beat hard against her ribcage. None of this, but the thermometer, would help her with Tommy, would her?

With trembling hands, Wanda grabbed the thermometer and some cotton balls, she let her hands wander inside the cabinet until she found a small cup. Making sure the water was not too cold, she wiped away her tears and putting on a strong façade grabbed everything and went back to the twin’s room.

The storm ranging right outside the house became almost unbearable, thunder and lightning filled out the emptiness inside her home and by the time she was helping Tommy out, Billy was holding onto his pillow watching wide-eyed as Tommy whimpered and complain while putting his blankets away.

The lights had not come out yet, and Wanda had a feeling that this might take some time because of the storm. She went right into action making sure Tommy had the thermometer while putting the cotton balls and the cup of water on the bedside table.

Billy watched from afar as Wanda fussed over Tommy while his brother cried softly, and tried to get away from her touch while still couching and sneezing, his hands grabbing his chest or head from time to time. The young boy had always been there ready to protect his brother, and he hated it when he knew there was nothing he could do.

His young eyes went from his brother to his mom, she was crying and Billy felt his eyes well up at the sight. For a brief moment, he turned his attention to the door almost expecting his dad to come over screaming enraged before hitting mommy and Tommy.

But it never happened, and relief washed over the young man that still felt anguish at the sight of his family suffering over without anything he could do. Billy glanced at the phone, then back at his mom and Tommy, he lifted his hand and wiped away his tears with his pajamas. The phone he had been holding for quite a while vibrated in his hand, Billy frowned glancing at the phone while tilting his head.

“Mommy.” He mumbled standing up, he made his way to Wanda holding onto the phone.

Wanda lifted her head, she tried to smile and Billy could see she was not doing okay.

“Tell me, sweetie.”

“Can you call a doctor?” Billy offered the phone to his mother, he could no longer hide the tears on his face and Wanda broke just a little at how mature he usually behaved at his age.

Wanda grabbed the phone putting him closer to her, her arms wrapped comfortingly around him before placing a kiss on his head. She thought about the proposal, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it, but the rain outside and the lower temperatures could only be worse for the boy burning in fever at the moment. There was a moment of hesitation on Wanda’s part, she glanced at Tommy then at Billy before placing her eyes on the phone.

But before she could do anything, Tommy sat up moaning, grabbing his stomach.

“Mommy I don’t feel good…” And with those words, he leaned in and started throwing up.

Billy stepped back watching horrified as Tommy empty the contents of his stomach on the bed and the floor, and soon Wanda sprang into action taking the young boy to the bathroom, running and sharing comforting words to a now crying Tommy.

The mobile had fallen to the floor, and Billy grabbed the gadget in his hands hugging it closer to his chest not knowing what to do and how to help his mom and brother. It took him a moment, tears falling down his face, and he just checked the phone finding the only familiar name that could help him and his mommy in a moment like that one.

With a blurry eyesight, he pressed the dial button and finally started sobbing when he heard the familiar voice through the phone.

____________________________________________________________

There was not a single light on the streets.

The wind and water twirled in front of the windows, the bluish light of thunder breaking into the darkness from time to time, and the rumbling from thunder making the glass trembled echoing the strength of the storm.

You sipped some hot chocolate from your favorite mug, sitting down in the kitchen your mind played out the recent events that had shaken your life in ways you never thought possible. More than a week had passed since the school event in which you got a chance to see a side of your neighborhood you were not familiar with and finding her in the practice of your best friend.

Since then, your encounters with her have been sporadic. But each and every single one of them had the spark of teasing you had come accustomed to. It had become a habit to just bother her and rail her up, to watch her reaction to your piercing words and your constant teasing while getting some reaction out of her. To see her eyes going wide, and flashing that glare you had come to appreciate, or her retorts that were a defiance of your intelligence and your personality. A part of you knew the game you were playing was a dangerous one, another part didn’t even care.

That was, until your mind reminded you of one Carol Danvers that had been at your doorstep from the moment you decided to go back to the world.

The blonde woman had been there as a support, and also as someone that helped you escaped from the pain and the reality you were made to face. So much different than Shuri, Carol had always understood your priorities, and while at the beginning the both of you had agreed on sex with no strings attached, Carol had made it quite evident she was ready for more, and pretty much intended to wait for you to be ready as well.

Another thunder broke into the night.

You lifted your eyes wondering if perhaps letting Carol meet America had been the wisest thing to do, the both of them had hit it off right off the bat, and you knew that Carol had been more than happy about the meeting. She saw that as a step in the right direction, one of the steps to get you closer into a relationship you were still not so sure you wanted.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” The voice of America startled you awake from your daze, turning around you saw her completely dressed wearing a heavy jacket and boots as if she was ready to go out.

“What are you doing dressed like that?” You asked back raising a single eyebrow, the young woman came closer to you tilting her head with narrowed eyes.

“I’m going out.”

You snorted shaking your head, “you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you go out with this weather. Anyway, why the hell would you go out? This has something to do with Kate?”

America opened her eyes wide, blushing lightly while crossing her arms.

“Not everything that happens to me has to do with Kate.” She huffed indignantly, though you had to smirk at her reaction.

“As of late, everything has to do with her…” You replied teasingly. “You two should stop playing around and get together already.”

“Oh, shut up! You are one to talk, you and Carol had been playing the friends with benefits for far too long, you should give in already.” She retorted shooting you a defiant glance, you winced looking away while lifting your mug.

“Touché. I won’t say anything about Kate and you from now on.”

“Thank you.” America turned around but stopped when you placed a hand on her shoulder, your brows lifted in wonderment.

“Still, you’re not going out, though.”

America made a face lifting her phone while trying to come up with the best explanation.

“Look, Billy Maximoff just called me.” She started explaining, and as soon as that name came out you perked up. “He was really distressed, crying and asking for me to help him, something happened to Tommy and…”

“Well, where is his mom? Or his dad for that matter?”

It wasn’t so much the question, but the tone of voice you used to ask. Your voice broke a little, and your tone rose an octave making you clear your throat and look away from the scrutinizing gaze of your sister. America narrowed her eyes at you, tilting her head.

“There is no dad, and it seems as if Mrs. Maximoff needs help.” America trailed off before grabbing your hand. “Come with me, please, I think they really need help and I hated to think Billy is crying while Tommy and Mrs. Maximoff are…I don’t know…”

You made a face letting go of America while scratching the nape of your neck, your heart jumped in your chest while a tingling started in your abdomen at the thought of seeing Wanda Maximoff. It was strange, and unwanted, you shouldn’t feel anxious to see that insufferable woman, yet…

“What if Tommy is sick, Y/N? I know you can help them.” America pressed grabbing your hand. “Please, come with me and if it is something dumb, you can lash out at Mrs. Maximoff, I know it had become your favorite pastime as of late.”

“That’s not true!” You replied slightly offended. “She is the one lashing out at me!”

“Oh, please if I didn’t know better, I would say you like her!” America replied turning just on time to miss the flash of panic in your eyes.

“So, can you come with me?” This time around she used her most powerful weapon against you, and her puppy eyes with that familiar pout broke your resolution.

Rolling your eyes you nod, “okay, okay, I’m coming with you, let me grab something, I don’t want to catch a pneumonia just so you can go and help Maximoff’s brats.”

America smirked watching as you went running to your room, she knew even if your words seemed uncaring that you were hooked when she said the kids might be sick. America knew for you it was hard to not care, but sometimes it was harder to care.

*************

Your eyes soon found those of the small boy standing by the door with a blue blanket tightly pressed against his chest, he had tears in his eyes with his hair completely disheveled and a spark of mistrusted sent your way. America knelt down as soon as he opened the door, her face breaking into one of pure tenderness while she spoke to the boy in a soft reassuring tone.

“Hey, Billy, how are you buddy?”

“Tommy is sick.” He mumbled and was about to hug your sister when you stopped him from going any further.

His glare made you think of his mother, and you had to refrain yourself from snorting at the likeness between both of them.

“We are drench, kid, so hugging America is not a good idea.” The glare didn’t lose its intensity, but the boy pursed his lips and stepped away from your grasp.

America rolled her eyes at you, closing the door behind her and taking the jacket off of her. You followed her swiftly, while also taking off your boots and standing inside the house that had been Natasha’s at some point.

The place had changed ever since, though you could see the new inhabitants of the household decided to keep some of the furniture. You frowned stepping inside the place noticing there was no one but the kid on the first floor, turning around you could see America talking to the boy, this time around she wrapped her arms around him helping him up and walking towards you with Billy snuggling closer to her.

“Tommy is sick, and he and his mom are upstairs.” She commented, her lips broke into a sad smile. “He didn’t know what to do, but he thought if I was here his mom could take Tommy to the doctor.”

“You are quite the smart guy, Billy.” Your commented made Billy turned his attention to you, though his eyes had not softened he was now shooting curious glances at you. “However, with this rain, the best would be for Tommy and your mom to stay here…”

This time around you could see the crestfallen expression on the boy’s face, his eyes welled up again and your heart broke at the sight. You leaned in, winking at him reassuringly.

“But you and your family are lucky that I know a thing or two about being a doctor and may be able to help, would you like that?”

America watched as the boy tensed in her arms, his eyes opened lightly, and he glanced at you for the very first time with wonderment, and some hesitation.

“Really?” he turned to America to corroborate your words, and the young woman smiled at him.

“Yes, Billy, this is my sister Y/N.” She said, looking at you then back at the boy. “And she learnt a thing or two about children and how to take care of them.”

Billy pursed his lips glancing at you with a tilt of his head, “really? You help Tommy?”

“Really, I can help Tommy and your mommy as well.” You looked around the place before settling your eyes on America. “Why don’t you grabbed one of the torches you brough and I will go upstairs to see what’s going on.”

“Sure.” America turned to Billy pocking him on the nose. “Want some chocolate while we make sure Tommy gets better?”

You watched as both of them go to America’s jacket, and handing over the torch to Billy they made their way to the kitchen. With a sigh, you placed a hand on your head before turning your stare to the stairs; the place was completely silent, and you had to glance around while straining your ear to catch some noise. Without missing a beat, you walked down the hall until you found yourself in front of a door decorated with dinosaurs and the names of the twins in blue and red.

The room smelt like vomit, and it felt suffocating.

On the bed was a small boy whimpering, and leaning in was the young woman you had come to know as Wanda. There was a moment of hesitation before you knock on the open door, the sudden sound made Wanda jerked around her eyes wide open as they settled on you.

“Wha-what are you…who…?”

The young woman was looking terrible.

Her hair was out of place, and she had been wearing some sweatpants and a shirt that had strains of vomit all over them. The sight itself was quite incredible, you had seen the fire behind those green eyes, the power behind the woman’s words as well as her determination whenever you engaged her in a bickering contest. But the woman standing before you was lost, it was someone that didn’t know what to do or how to react, that was completely out of her element while holding onto a piece of sanity she clearly didn’t have.

It made you think of that time she had frozen in fear during the school’s event.

“You got any coherent thought behind those questions? Or do I have to guess what are you trying to ask?” Your lips curled into a smirk, the glint of anger flashing towards you as the woman strides to you her index finger lift poking on your chest, with her nostrils flaring.

“What the hell are you doing here?” There was desperation in her voice, and you had to wonder where the father of the kids was, where was her husband.

Was she alone in all of this?

“Your kid called, and America dragged me over to help.”

She blinked a couple of times, your words registering in her head while her brows knitted together. Her eyes locking with yours before she opened them in realization.

“Billy.”

“Yes.”

“America? Why…?” Now she looked even more confused than before, you shrugged suddenly very aware of the closeness of the woman and the foolishness of the situation.

“She is my sister, and your kid call her over to see if she could help you.” You shrugged trying to look uninterested in the whole situation. “You had a smart kid, Princess. Now, let me help you with your other kid.”

You stepped aside, and walked past Wanda who was struck by the door still registering your words. You looked around the place before kneeling down right beside the bed of Tommy. You placed your hand on his forehead, he was burning and your touch made him shiver telling you his skin was sensitive to the touch. It was quite evident he had thrown up, and his paleness confused itself with the flush of the fever. Your eyes moved to the thermometer then to the mess around you.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asked in a thin voice, your eyes were flashing angrily at her just as you stood up.

“Me? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You asked through gritted teeth. “He is burning up! What had you given to him? Do you know if he eaten something that upset his stomach? How long has he been like this?”

And just as you said this you stepped closer to her, the anger in you came by the sight of the state the room was in and by the obvious discomfort the boy was in. It was incredible to you that a mother could be this disinterested in their child. If your stepmother had been alive her first instinct would have been to take you or America straight to the hospital, bad weather or not, and your dad…

The anger running through your veins cooled down the moment your eyes fell upon the cowering form of Wanda. The young woman winced when you spoke to her, her body tensing and coiling in on itself, while she pressed her hands tightly to her chest. Her eyes clenched close, paled with a quivering lower lip, she was mumbling something you had not bothered to hear up until now.

“I just…I didn’t…I don’t have because I…” Wanda had been ready to answer your reproaches with the same annoying tone she used to address you until something in her triggered the memories she thought she had overcome. She was useless, a bad mother, she deserved punishment. She deserved her fate.

“I don’t know! I’m sorry, I…I failed, I failed, I’m a bad mother…”

You never expected her to break down the way she was doing, something in your chest stirred with sympathy and guiltiness at having been so hasty in your reaction. There was a moment of hesitation that was broken the moment the woman felt to her knees, this time around her arms above her head as if protecting herself from an invisible attack. You clenched your jaw, your eyes burning with horror at the thought that this was perhaps what Wanda was waiting from you.

You could hear her whimpers, turning around you could see Tommy crawling his legs closer to his body, he had been awake during the scene trembling on his bed with his lips turned downwards. You brushed your hair away before stepping closer to Wanda, kneeling down slowly but surely, your hand placed itself on her shoulder. Whatever story was behind her reaction, you decided right there and there, you would make things easier for her.

“Hey, Wanda, I’m sorry.” You whispered softly, comfortingly. “It was not my place, you are a good mother, you did the right thing, I just…I want to help…”

“Hey, Wanda, sorry I just…look, I came here to help. So…”

“Why? So you can humiliate me? Tell me…making me feel as If…” Wanda exploded pushing your hands away, her eyes filled with tears just as she glared at you. “I’m doing my best I just…”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You whispered, wincing at her words. “I was unfair, I…I just…I don’t like seeing little kids suffering, okay? And, Tommy, he really needs a doctor. Let me make it up to you, let me help you.”

“What? You are a doctor or something like that?” Wanda bit back, her glare never missing the intensity.

“Something like that.” You replied offering a half smile, Wanda furrowed her brows the situation draining her of any will or energy to fight over. “Let’s start by getting him really clean up, do you have anything we can give him?”

“What do you mean?” She asked in a small voice.

“Antibiotics, aspirin…something?” Wanda shook her head and you nodded curtly.

“Okay, that’s fine. You and him, you need a shower…”

“But…but he is sick, and his fever…”

“Needs to be controlled before it gets out of hand.” You replied helping the young woman stand up, you cocked your head, so your eyes fell upon the boy that was glancing at the both of you. “Let’s take him to the bathroom, I have some torches that may help you, but you need to give him a bath and help with his fever.”

Wanda nodded weakly making her way to the bed, Tommy was shivering with his lips parted. You leaned in, observing the rhythm of his breathing and the sweat on his face.

“Mommy?” He asked in a weak voice, Wanda cleared his face never missing the concern marks on her face.

“Is he…” Wanda started but soon trailed off.

“He is gonna be okay.” You smiled at her, standing up you placed a hand on her forearm. “Don’t worry, kid, everything is gonna be fine, can you tell me where it hurts the most?”

Tommy pouted hesitating before placing his hand on his head, you pursed your lips nodding. Wanda observed as you knelt down with your eyes scanning the small form of the boy.

“Does your tummy hurt still?”

“No.” Tommy put his legs closer to his chest, your eyes narrowed for a moment.

“Tommy, did you feel bad today at school?”

Tommy hesitated before nodding, “I didn’t want Billy worried because he was playing with Bard, and I’m always complaining.”

The boy explained in a thin voice, Wanda pressed her lips holding back her own tears. You offered the boy a smirk, shaking your head.

“I bet Bard was being a little brat about it, wasn’t he?”

Tommy opened his eyes before nodding, this time around he smiled.

“Yeah, the men in that family can be little brats.” You said winking at Tommy. “But they are good people, you don’t have to hide, Tommy, more so if you don’t feel okay.”

“I’m s’orry.” He lowered his gaze, “I don’t wanna be weak, daddy don’t like it when I complain.”

You decided to not comment on that, and you even ignored the sudden shift on Wanda’s posture, and the gasp she let out at Tommy’s words.

“Hey! Not feeling well is not about complaining, it’s about being brave enough to admit you need help.” You replied by pocking his nose. “Now, I need to help you and your mom with your fever, okay?”

Tommy nodded putting a thumb on his mouth, you stood up looking around the room before settling your eyes on Wanda. In a sudden movement, you went to pick up Tommy in your arms, the little boy snuggling closer to you.

“He does need to take a bath, and it’s going to be a little uncomfortable for him because the water must be lukewarm.” You stated firmly, Wanda shifted her position taking a good look at you. “Can you show me the bathroom?”

The bathroom was huge.

With a big bathtub at the far corner, you realized that with more light the situation would be easier for everyone. However, the place was big enough to make it work for the mother and the child, you placed Tommy on a small chair near the toilet.

“Okay young man, I need your help right now, think you can do it?”

Tommy opened his eyes wide, nodding while glancing at you then back at Wanda.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring some flashlights and you and your mom are going to take a bath.” You explained to him standing up while turning on the light on your mobile. Wanda had been silent up until then, she had been following your every move, hearing every single word you spoke to her and Tommy, and something inside her stirred grateful by your actions.

You glanced around the place helped with your mobile trying to locate the cabinet in which you might be able to locate some medication. Your eyes narrowed when the only thing you spot were gauzes, bandages, alcohol, and things that might help someone after a fall. Not in a situation like the one they were in at the moment. You turned to Wanda, but the young woman was making her best effort to look away from you.

“I’m going to get the bathtub ready, and you and Tommy can take a bath, so the both of you stop stinking.” You made a face winking at Tommy who giggled placing a hand on his mouth.

“I’m not…” Wanda started but soon trailed off when she heard Tommy’s giggle.

“You are.” You replied walking past her towards the tub. “And Tommy is too, right?”

Tommy hesitated before nodding, “I stink. I felt bad in my tummy and throw up.”

You made a face making sure the war was the right temperature, “that and you have a fever, Tommy. I will need some basic medication for you, but the water will help with the temperature, okay?”

“But, with his fever…” Wanda started, you stood up shaking your head.

“It will make him feel better, believe me.” You offered a kind smile and Tommy was already feeling ready to take the bath. “Let me go for the torches, and then I will bring some medication I have at home that may help with his symptoms.”

Wanda stood there nodding numbly, you hesitated for a moment before grabbing her hand, the tender touch jerked her awake and her eyes found yours in the dark.

“It’s gonna be okay, Wanda, trust me.” You whispered, and the young woman felt her stomach tingle at the closeness, her heart shivering at your words.

“I do.”

You nodded curtly running down the stairs and grabbing two torches from your jacket and that of America, your sister watched you with curiosity, but you paid her no mind and went back to the second floor. Fixing the flashlights on two strategic points in the bathroom, it took but a moment, but soon your eyes found the naked back of the boy and your whole body tensed, while your jaw clenched closed again, this time around the anger bubbling in your chest was like a time bomb ready to explode.

On his back, there were multiple scars, some of them looked fresh, some others were old enough to know he had been hurt several times in the past. Then, as soon as you saw this, your eyes drifted away to the young woman whose hands were tenderly taking the clothes off and helping Tommy into the bathtub. The way she moved, the way she worried about her children…

“It’s cold, mommy.” Tommy whimpered fighting a little, Wanda cooed the little boy trying to calm him down.

“I know baby, but really is not that cold, is just…it feels like that because you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m going to leave this here and you two can take as long as you want.” You commented furrowing your brows, your mind already working on trying to get the truth about Wanda from Natasha. “I will leave my phone here, if you want to put on Disney or Netflix for him.”

Wanda turned to you, her face breaking into one relief and grateful expression.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Princess.” You winked at her, placing a hand on your eyes. “Tommy you are in charge of the phone and the movie, make sure your mom doesn’t put a boring movie.”

“Yeah.”

Wanda chuckled leaving Tommy for a moment to grab your mobile, her eyes soon found yours and her cheeks burn a little at the sudden warmness she felt near you. She grabbed the phone and you and her turned around at the same time, you closed the door behind you, confusion filling up your mind.

****************

“How is Tommy?” America asked as soon as you entered the kitchen, you glanced around the place before spotting the door leading to the basement, in your arms you were carrying the bed sheets and the pyjama.

“He is burning in fever, Wanda is bathing him, and probably will take a shower afterwards.” You turned to America pointing to the basement door. “I need wash this, but right now that room is a mess, can you help me cleaning it up and putting some fresh sheets on the bed?”

“Can I help?” Billy asked in a small voice rubbing his eyes, you offered him a small smile nodding.

“That would be fantastic, Billy, Tommy needs clean sheets to feel better, and your room smells yucky so let’s make sure he comes back to a clean room, okay?”

Billy perked up at this, he nodded eagerly smiling a little, “yeah, I help, come America.”

He grabbed your sister’s hand dragging her back to the stairs, you shook your head opening the basement door going downstairs to put everything in the washing machine.

By the time dawn came, the rain had stopped and Billy, Tommy and America were fast asleep in the twins room.

The lights had not come out yet, and you had a feeling it would take some time for the electricity to be restored again. The living room was early quiet, and Wanda was sitting on the sofa with a warm mug of hot chocolate in her hands. She had bags under her eyes, her hair was still wet but her clothes had changed into another part of sweatpants and an old college t-shirt.

Tommy’s fever had receded, and he was no longer suffering from headaches or tummy pain, he had even drunk some tea and eaten some crackers before falling asleep on his bed. Billy had been right on his bed with America playing some movies on your phone.

Wanda had been fussing around the three of them, she was busing herself stopping any intrusive thoughts that were threatening to invade her mind. She was confused enough, tired enough, scared enough to allow another set of concerns filled her life at the moment.

You sat down on the sofa, the young woman tensed but her eyes never drifted from the photo album still open at the coffee table. You glanced at the pictures, having taken a pick early into the night before settling your eyes on Wanda.

“What a night, eh?” Your voice broke the silence in the room, it didn’t carry the usual bite and teasing tone you had come to use with Wanda, instead it was filled with tiredness and curiosity.

“Yeah, I never stopped enough to thank you for the help.” She finally said tilting her head to glance at you. “I never thought your sister…well, that you and America…”

“Oh, yeah, I know.” You chuckled wriggling your eyebrows. “I bet it was quite the shock for you to discover we were sisters, eh?”

Wanda allowed herself a tiny smile, “what surprised me is that she is such a charming young woman, responsible, and quite smart. And you don’t seem to fit in that description.”

You laughed throwing your head back, while allowing the comment wash over you. Wanda observed your reaction with some surprised, but her lips curled into a please smile, soon she was also laughing shaking her head at the absurdity of her situation. Here she was, sitting on her living room with a woman she though annoying and a bitch, only to find a comfort she never thought possible.

“Nah, she is good sister, I’m the bad one.” You finally replied never losing your smile, Wanda pressed her lips together looking away for a moment.

“I don’t think you are the bad one.” You raised an eyebrow, your eyes shinning with wonderment. “You are a bitch, but you’re not bad.”

“Fair enough, Princess.” Once more Wanda rolled her eyes at the nickname, at some point she had thought it annoying and quite invasive, a way for you to railed her up. But now all she could think of was how much she liked the sound of it coming from you.

The silence that followed was filled with questions unasked, Wanda was not the woman you thought she was. She was alone in the city, raising two boys all by herself while working to educate the newest generation in a school that could provide her with great opportunities. Natasha had advocated for her, she had even given her the house in which she and Yelena had grown, offering her a spot in a school that didn’t take just anyone in.

What was her story?

What was hidden behind those emerald eyes that sometimes reflect sadness and loneliness?

You stirred awake turning around while knitting your brows together, you could not ask these questions. You shouldn’t be wondering anything about the woman sitting in front of you. Your heart should not beat so fast, and your abdomen shouldn’t host fluttering butterflies creating a void you were familiar with.

Bouncing your feet on the ground, you stood up walking around the living room. Wanda followed you with her eyes, her own mind playing games with her and what had happened that night. She kept telling her that she was grateful for your intervention, that whatever she was experimenting at the moment was the result of America and you coming in to help her in a situation she felt was slipping from her grasp. It had been so long since Wanda forged any kind of friendship that was not determined by Jarvis or her father, she was finally free to be herself and reached out to people by allowing herself to make new bounds.

That was the reason why Wanda felt confused by you at the moment, it wasn’t because you made her heart skip beat, or because you made her feel vulnerable. It wasn’t either because she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment and coyness, or because her stomach had come to tingle whenever the both of you engaged in a bickering contest.

It was because she was learning how to make new friends.

That was all.

Wanda drown the voice inside her head, that traitorous voice that told her Y/N was the only one making her feel that way. Her other friends, the new ones, had never shake her world the way you had done so from day one.

“You should probably get some sleep.” Your voice broke Wanda’s trail of thoughts, she jerked around blushing profusely when she realized you were standing right beside her.

“I’m sorry, what?” She asked, and you snorted tilting your head.

“You should probably go to sleep, Princess.” You glanced at the watch on your wrist. “It’s three in the morning, I could keep watch for you, and I can wake you up as soon as the doctor is here.”

Wanda furrowed her brows at you, “doctor?”

“Well, I figured we need an expert to watch over Tommy, so I asked in a favour.” You replied shrugging, “hope you don’t mind.”

Once more, Wanda felt warmth all over, her heart melting at the gesture.

“No, I…thank you.” She took the last sip from her chocolate before yawning, her eyes drifted to the stairs then towards you. “If you don’t mind…I prefer to stay here…can we talk or something?”

You hesitated for a moment; it was quite evident Wanda was tired but she was stubborn enough to keep herself going if necessary. With a sigh, you nodded curtly sitting down on your previous spot of on the sofa.

“So, what do you wanna talk about?” You finally asked after the silence became too much, Wanda shrugged with her eyes falling upon the pictures.

It was still too soon, and you…The young woman turned towards you, she didn’t want to scare you off with her torrid story. She didn’t want you to know about her past, not yet, not like this; so straightened herself up she asked the safest question she could think off.

“Tell me how come you end up with such an amazing sister as America?”

_____________________________________________________________

The constant buzzing of conversation sneaked into her senses; she knew she had to wake up. An internal alarm was telling her she was needed, but her body and the recent activities had left her drained of energy necessary to open up her eyes.

Besides, she was warmth, and comfortable in the place she was in.

For brief moment she gave herself to the feeling, and her mind was slowly but surely losing the battle with her wakeful state until her ears caught the sound of a familiar voice.

“Thank you for coming, Strange, I know that this is not your specialty but…” You stated offering a tired smile to the man standing before you.

“Nonsense, I will be more than happy to help you out and that’s why I brought my wife.” Strange stepped aside and soon Christine came in rolling her eyes, on her hand the small duffel bag she used to carry with her everywhere.

“Hey, Y/N.” You dropped your shoulders walking towards her and wrapping your arms around her.

“Christine.” The older woman shot Strange a quick glance before wrapping her arms around you returning the hug.

“Miss me much?” She asked teasingly, you nodded looking away sheepishly.

“Like you wouldn’t imagine.”

“That’s why you haven’t called as of late?” The question came like a reproach but without any bite. You winced placing a nervous hand on the back of your head.

“I’ve been busy.”

“So I was told.” Christine waved her hand closing the door behind her, her eyes drifted around the place with curiosity before settling on you. “Where is the patient?”

“He is upstairs with America and his brother…”

“I am guessing you are the mother.” Doctor Stephen Strange stepped closer to the redhead now sitting on the sofa, her cheeks wearing pillow marks and her hair completely dishevelled.

“I…I am…Hi, sorry I just…” Wanda stood up feeling a little foolish and out of place, Stephen smiled kindly at her stretching his hand.

“No, please, we heard it was a rough night.”

“Yeah, it…it was I just…” Wanda stuttered kicking herself for being such an idiot, she dropped her shoulders wincing lightly. “I guess I need coffee, can I offer you something to drink?”

Christine chuckled waving her hand, “don’t worry, dear, I think coffee sounds perfect…”

“Good then, you and Wanda can go upstairs and Stephen and I will make the coffee and something to eat for everyone, would you like that?” You turned to Wanda who was still far too sleepy, and far too lost to said anything at all, you had taken charge of everything so it seemed and a part of Wanda was thankful for that.

“Yes, that…that sounds good…”

“Okay then, if you lead the way.” Christine took on a professional stance, her tone of voice and ever her glance changed, and as soon as they started making their way upstairs she started asking questions about the twins to Wanda.

“She was happy you called.” Strange stated, sitting down on a chair in the kitchen, you hummed moving around the unknown kitchen trying to locate the coffee maker, and some instant coffee.

“I was happy you guys could make it.” You replied never once looking back at your dad’s best friend.

“So, is she your new girl?”

You almost drop the mug in your hand, your eyes opening wide at the sudden declaration and Stephen merely smirked at your reaction.

“NO!” He winced, and she rolled your eyes trying to get a hold of your voice. “No, no we are neighbours, America babysits for her from time to time.”

“America has a job?” Stephen scrunched up his nose, you chuckled shrugging.

“Yeah, she took it after declaring she felt bored out of her mind and this would teach her some responsibility.” You pursed your lips. “She is right, you know? And, well…Wanda seems to need all the help she can get.”

“I see.” Stephen stood up walking towards the fridge and putting some bacon and milk, going around the place to help you out. “And you…and her…”

“Neighbours.” She stated curtly.

“Right, because you are dating Danvers, right?”

Now he was sounding like a confused parent that was no longer up to date with his child’s demeanours. You sighed rolling your eyes, knowing the questions came for the genuine interested of the man, and not because he wanted to be noisy or intrusive. He was like an uncle to you, and after your parents had died all those who had been part of your parents circle had taken it upon themselves to watch over you and America.

“I’m fucking Carol, there is a difference.” You replied slightly defensively, Stephen made a face shaking his head.

“You are dating her, America told us you invited her over for dinner and that she met her formally this week.” Stephen shot you a triumphant smile, and you could only roll your eyes at that.

Of course, America would mention this to everyone who wanted to hear her.

“I’m not dating Carol, but I did invite her to dinner and introduce her to America.”

“You know it’s okay to move on, right?” Stephen inquired again, pressing the topic you had tried to evade for as long as your stubbornness allowed it.

You stopped what you were doing, Stephen continued cutting the bacon and serving the eggs and the coffee alongside a cup of warm tea and some crackers. He waited for your answer, hearing the noises of muffled conversation coming from the second floor.

“I’ve been going out with her, and she seems nice, and quite found of me, and the sex it’s incredible and…”

“But you don’t feel anything?”

You sat down shaking your head, “I like her, and of course I feel affection for her, but…”

Stephen nodded in understanding placing the cup of coffee in front of you, he sat by your side taking the tea in his hands.

“I understand.” He blew on the mug before speaking again. “Why do you continue with the relationship, though?”

“I was hoping I would feel something, but I know it’s not fair to her…to me.” You snorted taking a long sip from the black beverage. “I guess that’s why I have been running from you.”

“Ah, the wisdom of the older generation.” Stephen winked at you leaning in. “It’s okay to feel confused, and to want something, Y/N. What it is not correct is to play with someone that may be interested in you.”

“I know.”

Stepehen made a face satisfied with the ending of the conversation, then his eyes drifted to the newcomers that were talking animatedly about some movie. America’s eyes lit up and she soon run towards Stephen hugging him tightly.

“Uncle Strange!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Billy stood unsure at the entrance of the kitchen, he glanced first at America then a Strange and finally at you.

You tilted your head patting the chair beside you.

“Want something to eat, Billy?” He nodded approaching the chair, helped by you he fixed his body to move closer to the counter.

“So, young man, America tells me you are one of the men of the house, is that correct?” Stephen asked serving him a cup of orange juice, Billy opened his eyes big nodding tentatively.

“Perfect, tell me, do you like eggs with bacon or toast with jam?”

Billy pursed his lips thinking hard before talking, “toast with jam.”

“Good selection, my good sir, let’s eat then.”

____________________________________________________________

Saturday night came faster than you thought possible.

Christine and Stephen had spent most of the day with you and America, and most of the morning with Wanda and the twins. You had left your neighbours house with a heavy heart, thought secure in the knowledge Tommy would be just fine and that Wanda and Billy would be okay.

The afternoon had been quite the familiar time, in which America had enjoyed the company of the couple while talking about school and her aspirations for the future. The topic of Carol was not brought again into conversation, but you knew that Christine was thinking the same as Stephen and that most of that conversation had been thanks to America’s own concern.

You took a quick shower before getting inside your bed, your phone had been forgotten most of the day and by the time you finally got to see it the first message that appeared in there was that of Carol.

“Hey, just wondering if you are okay, hope you have an amazing day, Y/N. thinking of you.”

You turned to the side, your mind playing around what had happened in the last day and a half. The twins, Wanda, the conversations and the things that were left unsaid. You knew deep inside your heart you needed to talk to Carol, with a trembling hand you went to write to her but, at the last minute your finger drifted to another chat. A new one.

“Hey, Princess, how are the twins?”

_____________________________________________________________

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #imagine wanda maximoff #female reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader #Wanda Maximoff/Female! reader

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thejournallo · 5 months

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Explain the method: Manifesting overnight (or at a certain time)

yes! It is possible!

As the creators of our own destiny and manipulators of reality, we can manifest things to happen in a certain time span, which could be over night or at any time you want.

We still have to be fucking realistic and have patience, because if we are manifesting something big, we have to give it time. (But at the same time, time is an illusion, and everyone perceives it differently, and it is still another manipulating thing.)

for example: "Money comes to me on Wednesday at 2:00 pm." Easy peasy, lemon squizy, but if it does not happen, it means that the universe is preparing something special for this thing to happen, and we just have to wait. "I have my desired body overnight" is a little bit harder because your body changes constantly and slowly, and it is a normal effect that everyone has. manifest it every night, and it will come to you.

With those examples, I will like to add a gentle reminder: because something is not happening as you manifested it, it does not mean that you manifested it in a bad way or on the wrong day.Manifestations can take time, as some others can come quickly. We still have to remember to act and put in motion our desires.

Don't be too harsh on yourself just because something does not come to you as quickly as you thought; it is still coming.

As always, I will love to hear your thoughts! and if you have any questions, I will be more than happy to answer them! If you liked it, leave a comment or reblog (that is always appreciated!). and have a wonderful day or night!

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the-slasher-files · 6 months

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PLEASE DONT TAKE MY SUNSHINE AWAY

JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH FT. SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

Ok yall, here is the fic that fixes it lol. Ignoring canon with a passion and throwing this in it. Also im very obsessed with the sunshine nickname lol. Warning: heavy angst, inaccurate medical, soap almost dying... hope you enjoy 🔪🤍

MASTERLIST

The lump in your throat hadn't ceased since you received that phone call hours ago. Hands shaking, you packed an overnight bag that had become more Johnny's things than your own. He would need his favourite body wash- the one that would finally ease him as the sand flowed away. Johnny would want that stupid hair gel you had gotten as a sample. He said it made his mohawk withstand the Scotland wind and rain like no other. Your smile curled as a tear fell down your cheek when you piled in his favourite hoodie- "Y'know I've had this since I was 21, if I ever lose it, a piece of me will die, Bonnie" His thick fingers pulled slightly on the drawstring. Cobalt blues shifted from the SAS logo to your eyes with all the love in the world. He was your world, and all you could do was wait.

"Love," Ghost's timber trembled over the plane engines, "We are transferring him to Glasgow now-"

"T-tell me..." Your breath caught with a deep inhale as you tried to form a sentence, anything. "Tell me he'll be ok"

You were met with silence for a few beats before a sigh shook on the other end of the line. It held your shattering hope.

"Just- P-Please wait for me to text you with the details, okay?"

"Si-"

"Okay?" His voice was harsh with a grunt becoming the cold Liuentent, giving you the order to follow knowing just how much it hurt. He didn't mean to- he would never mean to.

"Okay..."

Rushing into the hospital, you saw him there. Shrouded in black under the blinding white, standing outside a door with arms folded and brown eyes lined red, looking into the abyss that was nothing. Lost somewhere in his mind, your voice broke him away. "Ghost!"

Like a shield, he became almost robotic in nature, functioning on fumes and fight or flight, protecting himself in and out— He couldn't lose the best man he's ever had. This was his fault and he could still feel the blood on his hands, the reak of copper, and the bits of brain matter that wanted to force their way out, only to be stopped by a dead man's hands.

Hollow eyes met yours, quickly looking away to look beyond you, not wanting to face the love of Johnny's life in this circumstance. It was like he didn't know you, pushing it all down even though Simon had become something of a brother to Johnny and a brother-in-law to you. You placed a gentle hand on his broad shoulder.

"He's stable, outta surgery, and sleeping. He won't wake for a while. " He breathed methodically, reaching out a gloveless hand to have you take Johnny's shining tags with a sick stomach. He left out the part where the doctor said that anything could happen. 'Stable for now' 'the swelling is a concern'

Sliding your hand down to meet his, the metal clicked between your shaking fingers, almost dropping them until Ghost curled your fingers delicately around the cold steel.

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you tried it out, "C-can I go see him?"

Simon nodded, still unable to see your pleading face as he turned the door knob allowing you inside. Adrenaline shuffled your feet inside the dimly lit room with Simon slowly slipping in behind you, an arm outreached in case your knees gave out, which they threatened to do.

Your eyes adjusted to the dark. Only one lamp and several monitors illuminated the small space. Lighting up Johnny's tan features; Swollen and bruised, his head was propped up on white pillows that had been stained with his blood before the guaze was changed. Mohawk obscured in white wrapping and blue eyes held shut, one starting to leak bruises beneath the soft lashes that lay on his under eye. You were unsure how your body carried to you to your husband's side, but your fingers carefully lingered, hesitant to touch, to break what had already been. After moments of hovering and your breathing held, your fingers lightly grazed the dark stuble on his strong jaw. Eyes flashing everywhere they could to gather and collect an inventory of what you could fix.

"Si— Simon, help me get him c-cleaned up." You sniffled, hands fluttering around each bandage looking for anything that you do. Pulling down the light sheet, taking in the scrapes and discoloration on Johnny's expansive chest, your breath increasing with each inhale— Panic setting it.

"I-I have to," you studdered, feeling a large body begin to pull your body away softly. "Simon. I—Help me clean him up, please—He, he has blood on hi—him, I"

"Love." Caring and warm hands turned you towards him, feeling your panic and trembling frame within his grasp. He knew too well what ran in your head.

"Simon, please. He's—He needs"

"Ssshhhh, I know, love..." Simon tucked your head against his chest, "I know... I'm sorry"

The flood came in your eyes, spilling onto Simon's hoodie as you began to sob. Months apart, promises, future endeavors, memories, and seeing a man so full of life laid out helpless made you break. "Ghost, he— Johnny needs to come home. He promised me, " You whined, gripping and beating on Simon as he stood still, hushing you with brown eyes firm on his brothers body.

Both of you lost track of how long you held each other in the dark. Just the sounds of slow, steady beeps, rain on the windows and soft breathing filled the space until a nurse came in. Without a word, the masked man grabbed a chair for you, placing it beside Johnny's bed and he hovered over the nurse intently. Every touch, every breath was protected.

"He is doing well so far. The body just needs time," The nurse spoke softly with a sympathetic smile, nodding to both before making her way into the labyrinth that was the hospital. And Simon followed, taking your keys to give you a moment alone and for him to get the bag you packed.

Your body released a sigh, one that you felt had been stuck for hours inside your burning lungs. It was just you and your husband. 8 months. Way too long without the love of your life by your side.

Whispering his name, you smiled with silent tears streaming your flushed cheeks. Grapsing his large hand in yours, it looked so small, even now with his fingers twitching slightly but muscles lax. Tracing every scar and vein, you picked away at the dirt lightly as you watched Johnny's face. So peaceful, calm under the bruises and bandages, the world seemed to cease to exist around you as you took in every twitch, every sweet inhale and breathy exhale. You were just thankful for him to be alive, to hold on just a little longer so the time would come, if it had, to hold him as you did.

You recall the memories gazed into pure azure pools, the room painted in honey as the morning sun graced you both in tangled sheets. His lips floated on your soft skin, the delicate nips to your collar bone left breathy moans falling from pouted lips. Promises he made to you as he worshipped "I'll always make it home to you." "I'm gonna be 'ere to protect you" "Never worry about me. I will fight to always be next to you"

"Come on, sunshine... Please" You pleaded to any god that was listening as you traced his knuckles with gentle kisses, tears following in the path.

"I'm 'ere." Blue eyes met yours with his signature smile.

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pjsk-story-summaries · 24 days

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April Fools Year 3: Past and Future

TL;DR: Everyone has been transported into one of two mysterious, seemingly inescapable SEKAI: a prehistoric forest with ruins and dinosaurs, or a futuristic city with tech and aliens. They split up into groups to survive and find a way home.

In the Past? SEKAI,

Team Survival Masters consists of Shiho, Airi, Nene, Kanade, and MMJ Len. They set up base camp and prepare delicious meals for the others.

Team Food Hunt in the Primeval Forest consists of Ichika, An, Ena, and L/n MEIKO. They brave the wilderness to collect materials and food.

Team We are the Pegasus Exploration Party! consists of Minori, Toya, Tsukasa, and MMJ Miku. As long as they keep high spirits, nothing will stop them from finding the way back home.

In the Future? SEKAI,

Team Relief Space Cafe consists of Honami, Shizuku, Mafuyu, and n25 Luka. They serve coffee at the place where everyone can rest.

Team NicoNico☆Food Search consists of Saki, Kohane, Emu, Mizuki, and WxS Rin. They try and find food while befriending aliens.

Team Here and There in the Futuristic City consists of Haruka, Akito, Rui, and VBS KAITO. This chaotic yet responsible team searches for the way back home.

Full fan translation (Project Sekai in English)

This summary is currently a work in progress. Area conversations will be added periodically.

Upon login, Miku asks you to join her in exploring two special SEKAI of the past and the future.

None of those transported to the Past? SEKAI know how they got there. The same happens in the Future? SEKAI. All the units cross each others soon after arriving and decide to team up to survive together. They'd decided to split into base camp/rest, food searching, and exit-searching teams.

Past? SEKAI

Survival Masters Cover: Setsuna Trip

Kanade and Nene greet VBS Rin, MMJ Len, and n25 KAITO. Nene's extremely intimidated by KAITO's harsh demeanor. She questions if she did something wrong, but Kanade explains he's just like that.

Shiho greets Airi, WxS MEIKO, and L/n Luka. Airi leads the group based on her past variety show experience. Luka divides up material gathering roles, impressing MEIKO and Airi. Neither of them are used to a reliable Luka. Luka offers her lap when MEIKO expresses loneliness without her sleepy one.

Food Hunt in the Primeval Forest Cover: Six Trillion Years and an Overnight Story

An, Ena, and Ichika make a fishing rod out of sticks and strings. Ichika realizes they need bugs or worms as bait, but all three are too scared to look. n25 Miku finds a bunch of worms under a rock and picks them up without hesitation.

L/n MEIKO leads Ena, MMJ KAITO and VBS Luka search for water. Ena's a bit frustrated by how easy-going Luka is in such a strange scenario. KAITO explains how it's cool to get to experience nature, and Ena reluctantly agrees that it would be great for references. She's also extremely thrown off by how nice these Virtual Singers are.

We are the Pegasus Exploration Party! Cover: Booo!

Tsukasa prepares the members of the Pegasus Exploration Party. L/n Rin wants them all to get cool nicknames and form an adventure huddle. Minori tries her best to get n25 MEIKO to join. She's forced to put her hand in the middle, but doesn't cheer.

The Pegasus Exploration Team has been searching for some time now. WxS Luka had fallen asleep, so Tsukasa yells for her to wake up. The scream ended up startling a dinosaur, who begins to chase them. Toya leads them to hide in an ancient ruin.

Relief Space Cafe Cover: Meru

Shizuku suggests checking out a place she'd seen earlier. She tries backtracking based on the signs she'd seen, but Mafuyu points out they change color. MMJ Rin asks Shizuku to hold her hand, pretending she's nervous. She just doesn't want Shizuku to get lost.

Mafuyu finds a malfunctioning robot. Shizuku tries to help it out by clicking a button, accidentally triggering a self-defense mode. Everyone panics, but Mafuyu calmly tells it to stop. WxS KAITO notices something off in her demeanor when she said it, though.

Honami, L/n Miku, VBS MEIKO, and n25 Luka explore the back alleys. Luka teases Miku about being a senpai figure, but only MEIKO realizes the intent. Honami praises Miku.

NicoNico☆Food Search Cover: Alien Alien

Emu, Mizuki, and MMJ MEIKO head off on their food search with a wonderhoy, but n25 Len isn't quite sure what to do. Mizuki and Emu teach him how to do it. They do it one more time, this time with Len.

The group finds an octopus-like alien. Emu tries copying the alien speech, but it comes out like nonsense. The alien responds, to everyone's surprise. The alien then copies back Emu's wonderhoy.

Here and There in the Futuristic City Cover: Devil's Manner

Akito wants to leave the Future? SEKAI as soon as possible, but Rui and WxS Miku are too distracted by the futuristic technology. Miku keeps getting the number of "no"s in Akito's name wrong.

VBS KAITO thinks he saw an alien, but L/n Len and n25 Rin don't belive him. KAITO's thrown off by how different the two are here.

Haruka uses her idol charm on an alien. (There's likely more to this interaction, but the translation was cut off.)

Rui explains his exploration drone to L/n Len. He offers over the controller. Akito asks if n25 Rin wants to join since she looks curious, but she denies it since that's "just playing around". Akito asks for the controller for the spare drone and explains how it would help. Rin caves and takes the controller.

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b4sorex1a · 1 month

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tw: nsfw fic, minors dni.

Harsh I Whisper — Fermín López Marín/Pablo Páez Gavira (English Translation)

Barça camping smut Part II out of II — Part I

Summary: Injuries and unfavorable results kept Fermín López and Pablo Gavira away from quality time. The club organized an overnight camp to create player content, presenting a unique opportunity during a bus trip to the rural field.

Content warnings: Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Bathroom Sex, Camping, Rimming, Top! Fermin, Bratty Bottom! Gavi.

│❝Oh he so horny, yeah he want to fuck, he bucked all my buttons, he ripped my blouse, he came all on my gown❞ — Partition.

Fermín was happy. What he needed most right now was a break from all the heavy atmosphere of the irregular season he had, now he was an official player of the first team, wearing the number sixteen on his jersey and the proud blaugrana colors all over his body.

Being a professional football player brings several advantages, one of them is the obscene amount of money available in his bank account, another in his specific case was being on the field alongside the most beautiful guy who ever walked the earth, his boyfriend Pablo Gavira.

Pablo, Pablito, Gavi, his Gavi.

He was content at the thought that he would finally have at least one day of companionship with his childhood best friend who had become his partner this past year. He didn't care much about the questionable reasons for this trip; Ferran had previously convinced him that this event was the best thing that could happen to them so far.

Salary increases, free advertising, more fame on social media, club interest, and other advantages that this themed trip offered were what the team's forward preached.

What was clear that week was: an all-inclusive paid trip in exchange for promotions for the travel company. It was an agreement that benefited both parties, the club and the Spanish company that sought to expand.

That's why Fermín was about to board the legendary Barcelona bus to start the group trip. He watched as all the young people lined up in pairs to board the vehicle. With a lazy smile, he breathed a sigh of relief, somewhat distracted by the high temperatures of Spain.

"I'm not fucking amused by this trip," a man next to him suddenly spoke.

Fermín turned a bit surprised by how direct the Sevillian was. He could delight in the pleasant sight before him; Gavi's honey curls were being tousled in an organized manner as they adjusted around his sunglasses nestled in his hair. He wore a summery white shirt with stylish cream-colored shorts, and despite his frustrated expression, the beauty of his sun-kissed skin gave him a lovely appearance.

The blond was slightly mesmerized by his boyfriend's attractiveness, standing still without responding.

"I'm already loaded, I'm famous, and I play the sport I love the most. The last thing I need is a damn trip in this heat," the midfielder continued his speech full of disgust, the conceited personality that characterized his dialogue.

Fermín wasn't mesmerized; he was completely dazed by the young Barcelona player with long lashes and big hazel eyes. Finally, he parted his lips to respond.

"Oh come on, Pablito, maybe you'll have a good time. Don't be so negative," he expressed, giving him a pat on the back.

But Fermín knew that in stress, the easiest thing for the Gavi was to immerse himself under a gray cloud of negativity. It was his defense mechanism, his way of perceiving problems.

Pablo returned him a deadpan look, as if he had been told the stupidest thing in the universe.

"You know we're going to be alone in a camping tent all night, right?" the blond spoke to him again.

Pablo's facial expression instantly changed, his body language became erratic, and a small smile threatened to curve his pink lips. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes with the intention of focusing on something negative.

"Ah, now you like the idea more, you idiot. Of course, we're going to be alone. What did you think?" the blond teased affectionately, reaching a hand to caress and squeeze one of his buttocks above his shorts.

The exchange of words promising a hot moment was a stupid plan. The trip would last a minimum of six hours, and exciting his impulsive boyfriend was like lighting a bomb without knowing which wire to cut to deactivate it. They wouldn't be alone until nightfall, and like a divine revelation, the reality dawned on Fermín: Pablo wouldn't last until they arrived. He was capable of pulling down his pants in front of the entire team and sucking him off without caring, just to satisfy the hunger weighing on both of them, a need accumulated due to weeks without going to a bed together.

He was screwed. He knew that he activated his own predicament when he perceived the prominent hard lump that lay between Pablo’s legs, demonstrating sexual arousal. Gavi getting really horny because of a little offering to do something, his cheeks became even more pink, the purring of his eyebrows softened and the honey in his eyes was lost in the black of his dilated pupils.

The fervor was beautifully reflected in Pablo; due to the heat, he unbuttoned the first buttons of his casual shirt and shook the fabric a bit.

The erotic scene that enveloped the couple in their own world was interrupted by a deep and tired voice.

"Come on, everyone, everything's ready!" shouted coach Xavi Hernández as he descended from the high metal stairs of the bus.

At the front of the line were Frenkie and Ronald. As the first duo entered, Fermín overheard a comment from Barça's captain.

"Don't fall again; you already kissed the ground in front of the cameras once," teased the Uruguayan with his charming Rioplatense accent. The Dutchman shot him a glare, his youthful face not allowing him to be taken too seriously.

Laughter erupted from most of the players, the camaraderie of the atmosphere calming the young player and easing his worries.

Everyone entered slowly but with excitement; many of them had never traveled to the field because they were more accustomed to city life. Pablo was one of those people. Among the group, the players quickly dispersed themselves among the red and blue padded seats with abstract designs.

The high temperatures were more noticeable inside, but thanks to the cool summer breeze flowing through the windows, everyone felt relieved.

Fermín walked down the aisle hand in hand with Gavi, almost to the back, where he decided to sit on the left, in the seat that didn't face the window. He knew the younger one liked to look out the window; he had noticed it during all the trips they made to different stadiums internationally to play.

When Pablo noticed this gesture, he looked at Fermín affectionately as he settled into his seat.

One of the best feelings washed over Barcelona's number sixteen when he realized he could raise the armrest and join Gavi. He gave him a mischievous look and a hand signal to indicate he should sit on his lap.

As he threw his backpack on the ground in front of him, Gavi slowly approached the other to sit on his crotch. Both could feel their own temperatures collide, the desire quickly became a priority and everything else was blurred.

Pablo surrounded his toned arms around his neck, the muscles flexed deliciously in view of Fermín.

"Kiss me," Fermín said.

He didn't wait to please the demanding cutie he had wrapped his arm around; he joined in a soft kiss at first, savoring the cherry candy flavor that Pablo always had on his lips.

They kissed chastely for a few more seconds until they couldn't resist anymore; the Sevillian aggressively introduced his tongue, deepening the kiss and establishing a more intense rhythm. Their heads moved to better accommodate the angle but they didn't separate; the swaying turned into a wetter one, pleased sounds escaping both joined mouths.

It was one of those kisses where you lose yourself in sensations, the kind that makes the past and the future irrelevant, turning the fiery present into the essence.

However, Fermín recognized that there is always an exception to the rule when he felt a tap behind his head. Dazed, he looked in the direction of the tap and met Ferran Torres's amused gaze.

"Fermín, dude, they're about to film you, wake up," Ferran whispered mockingly at his lost state.

He couldn't return to normalcy after nearly losing all his breath in a session of selfish kisses, but Pablo could; the younger one separated from the other's mouth with annoyance and impulsively opened his mouth.

"Ugh, how annoying," he pointed with his irritated gaze at a female figure approaching with a modern mobile phone to record them.

Of course, the price of the trip was promotion; it was logical for the club's social media manager to be there, smiling and focused on capturing happy moments. Fermín watched as she signaled to Gavi to leave his lap. The woman confidently ignored the Sevillian's murderous glare.

His partner moved away, returning to his seat with a frustrated expression; it was obvious to everyone that all he wanted was to feel the warm contact he had been denied seconds earlier. Everyone knew it was the right thing to do and that they couldn't display those interactions publicly, so if that girl said it was time for photos, then it was.

Realizing it was impossible to take a joyful photo of Pablo in those moments, the girl turned her attention to the coach, Xavi. Filming for the new Instagram story, the coach greeted disinterestedly in Catalan before settling back into his seat at the front of the bus.

Fermín realized that the presence of the former Barcelona legend was for the sake of having a more reasonable adult figure among a group of energetic youths prone to possible mistakes. He watched as Ferran smiled at the situation while walking away down the aisle, heading in an unknown direction.

With all distractions now discarded, Fermín caught Gavi's attention and patted his own thigh, indicating orders for the other to sit again.

Pablo moved relievedly, returning to that position that thrilled both bodies. To tease, Fermín took the sunglasses off the other's hair and put them on himself.

"How handsome," Pablo laughed affectionately, placing his hands on the chest of the other athlete.

"I'm so hot, I know," the blonde joked, playful in his expression.

"Very," the Andalusian said with a tone full of sinful arousal.

Their faces drew closer until they could feel each other's breath from that venomous distance.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you how cute you are?" the elder flirted wittily.

"Fuck, all of Spain," he boasted, with intentions of provoking jealousy.

Fermín's romantic spirit was too powerful to resist the tricks that Pablo played with his heart.

So he simply laughed and responded with a verbal bite.

"Whatever, but who cares, because at the end of the day you come to me and beg me to punish you with my cock," he paused to admire his boyfriend’s new blush, "What a pity for the future queen of the country, because you're mine."

Gavi's response was gratifying, he moved in the place while whining, Pablo loved to feel that he only belonged to him, Fermín's possessive side drove him crazy, his dick was hard inside the tight shorts.

"Are you still on that? I told you the king wanted my shirt, not his da-mmmph," Pablo was interrupted from speaking as he felt his neck being nibbled.

Fermín delved into kissing his neck, sucking at times to leave marks, his warm tongue licking the exposed white skin.

Gavira's sensitive skin was now adorned with bruises and bite marks. Fermín pulled back to look at them again, removing his glasses to throw them to the ground.

"Hey! Animal, those are limited edition Ray-Bans," Gavi informed him, trying to move to grab the expensive glasses.

The blonde pressed his toned arms against Pablo's body to prevent him from escaping his grasp. The other retrieved his belongings and adjusted them, running his fingers through his hair, which became even more golden in the sunlight.

Now more comfortable, they kissed casually, occasionally intensifying, but Fermín kept the atmosphere between them in check, he didn't want to excite Gavira too much, because that would become a problem for both of them.

Gavi noticed that control, and decided for both that he wouldn't stand any of that. He bet on a dirty kiss where the saliva accidentally came out of both because of the incessant rhythm; he shook his hips rubbing both of their cocks and creating friction.

He interrupted the playful language exchange to whisper something in his ear.

"I want to suck you off, I want it too much, please?"

Fermín hissed.

"No Pablo, we are in public, wait a little."

The most intense thing came, Gavi's puppy's look devoid of love. For Fermín it was something so hot, his boyfriend was begging like a little boy to do something as perverse as that.

"Let's go to the bathroom, no one is noticing us, I'll be quick, I promise," Gavira whispered loudly to him.

Fermín was not worried that his boyfriend would be fast, he was worried about the noise he would make, the disaster they would have to clean up, the fact that he would probably have to have sex there with him, since the other Barcelona player was very convincing on these issues.

As if he had the power to read minds, the midfielder told him.

"If you cum in my mouth and I swallow it there will be no proof of anything" was a very convincing argument, much more so when he placed his hand on Fermín’s cock and stimulated it on top of the fabric.

The expression of the canterano paused in what seemed to be one of questioning.

"Okay, you go first, wait for a few minutes, and then I'll come in," he ordered in a husky voice.

Without waiting another second, Pablo got up and discreetly walked to the bathroom, while Fermín stayed waiting in his seat, checking to see if any of the other players were watching him.

No one seemed very interested; the only one who glanced over was João Félix, who gave him a friendly nod of recognition before returning to his phone.

Fermín turned around again to check if it was safe to pursue his needy boyfriend's sinful fantasy. He leaned into a secluded corner of the vehicle.

In the distance, he noticed another teammate, Pedri, sitting with Ferran, both wearing expressions between serious and concerned. There was a slightly swollen bruise on a part of Pedri’s face that Fermín couldn't distinguish.

They seemed too engrossed in whatever was happening there, so he assumed it was safe to leave. He got up and finally made his way to the bathroom.

Upon arrival, he slid the metal door to the side and locked it upon entering. Standing in front of him was Gavi, with his shirt completely unbuttoned, revealing his toned abdomen and chest.

Fermín breathed in the scent of vanilla from the boy and brought his presence closer, intending to gently push his head down to indicate what to do next.

"Shit, get on your knees."

The event wasn't even starting yet, but Fermín was already running out of air. Gavira positioned himself on his knees and looked up through his eyelashes, giving a very lascivious point of view to his partner.

Pablo lowered his pants with his underwear at the same time, releasing the hard phallus that jumped and landed on his face. The aroma was intoxicating, it smelled of everything familiar to his partner naturally. Pablo drooled but he had to react quickly to start.

He gave the tip a kiss, then he supported his lips to put the member inside his mouth. Before starting the act, he had an idea.

"Fuck my mouth."

Fermín almost choked himself with saliva.

"Pablo, holy shit, you can’t just say that all of a sudden," he reproached him, paradoxically also caressing his hair.

The other just opened his mouth, eyes clouded by the desire to do it.

Fermín inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm his heartbeat. Slowly he put his cock inside the child's wet and warm mouth. Centimeter by centimeter the member disappeared inside, until it reached the end of his base, where he had his pelvis rubbing against Gavi's nose. He felt like the fat tip of his cock collided with the midfielder's throat, it contracted because the aforementioned was being obstructed with air.

A long bruised moan came out of Fermín.

He grabbed Gavira by his hair to keep him in that position, then he pushed his hips to penetrate the wet cavity. His cock went in and out. Faster and faster; Pablo roared and moaned drowned sounds, his honeyed brown irises almost disappeared from his eye when he narrowed his gaze.

Fermín fucked his mouth quickly, his cock collided with the bottom of his throat every time. Fermín’s dick contracted when he rejoiced in pleasure, hurting Pablo a little. Enchanted by the feeling, he lowered his head to look at the effect it caused on his boyfriend.

Seeing him like this almost caused him to cum in that precise second.

Gavi's lips were swollen, his eyes crystallized by the effort, his eyebrows were furrowed striving to be flexible with the brutal rhythm that was imposed on him.

A slightly dark desire came to Fermín's conscious. He kept intruding his dick inside, increasing the pace much more. The cruel act that untied then was to cover his nose by pressing with his fingers at the same time that he felt the closeness of his orgasm.

This action cut off absolutely all the flow of air that could enter the boy's lungs. Pablo couldn't breathe.

His boyfriend began to scream drowned, the sounds were appeased by the rapid continuous interference. Tingling pressed all over the blond's groin area. Gavira still screaming and without air circulating, gently hit his boyfriend’s muscular thigh several times, implying that he needs this to stop.

"Gavi, Gavi, I'm very close, I'm about to cum, hold on a little longer," he moaned dragged.

Fermín’s felt a scary feeling creep up his back, Gavi began to stop moving, his arms fell, the resistance and the sounds disappeared, he was losing consciousness.

But this new phase allowed his cock to enter dynamically and fuckfuckfuck his orgasm was reaching him, savagery covered him completely. He cruelly squeezed Pablo's head towards him when he felt the peak of pleasure. An explosion inside him tensed his whole body, his legs trembled, he could feel how the jets of semen came out of his cock towards the minor's throat. His left hand kept covering Pablo's nose without him realizing it. Fermín let him go, letting him breathe.

Desperate Gavi began the movement of inhaling, his mouth was still busy processing to swallow the thick hot liquid that was fired in large quantities.

Now more relieved but with tears coming out of his eyes, the award-winning midfielder relaxed and allowed his cock inside him to become softer.

Fermín pulled his softened dick out of his mouth and pulled up his pants to kneel next to Gavi and hug him.

"I’ve crossed a line, I'm very sorry, darling, but you put up with it like a champion, you deserve the best," his partner calmed him down with his honest words.

He filled his face with kisses, he kept hugging him.

Gavi was not disturbed, although he had to breathe hard for a few minutes to be able to form a reasonable response. While he calmed down definitively, he raised his head to face his eyes with his boyfriend's.

"I liked it, don't worry" silly giggles were satisfied, joy developed in the environment again.

There was a peaceful pause of silence.

"Although, you could return the favor," suggested Pablo as he was helped up by the other.

Fermín had the perfect idea.

He took Pablo by the waist to kiss him, tenderly joining their lips.

"Lean on the sink, like this," the blond showed him how, and Gavi imitated him.

The midfielder leaned on the bathroom counter, looking at himself in the mirror. A bit of embarrassment settled in his chest as he observed his reflection. He was a mess, his eyelashes darkened by tears and his hair disheveled. Despite getting distracted by thoughts of his appearance, Fermín's actions behind him distracted him even more.

He was groping him from his legs to his buttocks, squeezing plump meat while hissing. A tour of kisses was installed all over his back, slowly going down along with the obscene contact of a hand caressing him. He sensoryly recorded how Fermín's hot breathing went lower and lower, until he heard the boy kneel.

The expectation caused all his blood to travel to his dick, which was released seconds later when Fer removed his shorts.

"F-Fermín" he let go nervously about what was about to happen.

The blond's tender laughter sounded soft.

"Relax, come on, if you don't like it, I'll stop, let me know."

No warning could have prepared Gavira enough when he felt his boyfriend's saliva-soaked tongue touch his entrance. Fermín separated his buttocks to allow himself to suck the hole with ease.

Pablo's brain was going to melt, the hot feeling was incredible, moans of pleasure resounded between the narrow walls of the bathroom. Unconsciously he pushed his lower train back, hunting more of that warm electricity that that tongue gave.

That wet muscle made circles at its entrance, little by little it made its way into it slowly, at the same time that the mouth sucked and licked.

But, with the intention of teasing Gavi a little, Fermín moved his mouth away from there to talk.

"Do you want me to stop?"

He didn't get an answer in words, Gavi full of frustration grabbed his golden locks and pushed him to where he was before. He groaned gladly, that tongue took him to heaven repeatedly. He kept his hand closed in the opponent's hair, demanding exclusive attention. He lost himself in the perverted act, not caring about anything the decibel of his voice went up.

He directed his other hand to masturbate, surrounded his cock and with speed stimulated himself.

"Ah, ah, ah, yes, yes, I love it, fuck" uncontrolled songs came out of Pablo’s lips.

The knot that was built for all those weeks without action in bed was about to undo in the most vigorous way possible, the figurative elastic inside Gavi threatened to let go, his climax approaching.

Fermín quickly detected the signs of an orgasm, he changed his pattern of movements to a more constant, more intense one; he put his tongue thoroughly in the narrow walls, deliciously stretching Gavira inside.

The bottom of the sink was painted white with cum stains, Pablo came all over the furniture, practically screaming.

The whole bus had heard them, there is no doubt about that.

Fermín stepped aside and wrapped toilet paper in his hands to clean up the disaster, Gavi could not stand well due to the intensity of his sexual release.

They had no time to regain their composure; they had to get out of there as soon as possible. Pablo straightened his clothes as best as he could and signaled to Fermín to leave the place first. When the other athlete left, minutes later, Pablo accompanied him.

The first thing they both received was Xavi's confused and harsh look, judging them with his eyes from his seat, practically shouting 'I know what you did, you're degenerates'. They didn't care; they couldn't bear the hunger that had been torturing them for months. They sat in their seats, almost fainting from exhaustion.

(…)

When Pablo Gavira opened his eyes, he was disoriented about the time. He didn't know how much time had passed since he took a little 'nap' from which he didn't wake up even with five intermittent alarms. He turned to check on Fermín's condition and burst into laughter when he saw his boyfriend snoring with his mouth open and a silly expression.

Fermín startled in his sleep, waking up slowly. When he stretched his eyelids, he had to get used to the new LED light strip illuminating the entire vehicle, as it was getting dark.

Before he could form a word, a familiar voice startled him a bit.

"In ten minutes, we'll arrive. We've organized ourselves, and it's been decided that seat partners will share camping tents for the night," shouted Xavi from the middle of the bus, drawing everyone's attention.

How much time had passed? Neither of them could answer that question. So, they clumsily organized their bags and backpacks to leave. With everything prepared but still seated, they heard the next word from the coach.

"I don't think it's necessary to mention what is appropriate or not in a first division sports camp," and it was clear who that scolding was directed at. Xavi glared at Gavi, expressing a 'don't let it happen again'.

"Yes, coach," he responded, embarrassed.

Contained laughter on the verge of exploding sounded from almost all the groups divided on the bus. Most of the players knew what had happened because they either heard it or heard whispers among themselves.

It was finally time to retire. Nature and the night awaited them. They had arrived safe and sound. The sky was starry as the sun disappeared; shades of purple painted a beautiful picture.

Birds of different species sang and disappeared among the trees. The fresh summer breeze relieved the intense heat from which the Barça players escaped.

The pleasant aroma of earth and mint kept the atmosphere positive. The cabins and the place were rustic, decorated with wood.

Upon disembarking, they could get a better view of the establishment. In the center, there were communal tables for dinner. Further away and near a river were the camping tents already set up. Some were more isolated. Fermín noticed one of them, the red one, was on top of a small rocky outcrop, almost invisible to the distracted eye.

With pure honesty and from his heart, Fermín wished that one was theirs. They could do whatever they wanted all night with Pablo without anyone hearing them. He also bet on the violet tent near the previous one, just less hidden.

The sparkling sound of a professional camera flash pulled him out of his thoughts. Several photographers were capturing their reactions to the place. Every minute, from then until dinner, they were bombarded by that white light and the indicative sound of a new photograph being taken.

Xavi gathered them all, as they had previously split into groups for dinner. Interviews and recordings took place at the large rustic wooden table. Pablo was praying for the day to end; he needed to lie down and recharge his energy. His reserve of social patience had run out hours ago during casual conversations with cameras in front of them.

"Finally!" shouted Gavi as he walked with a paper in hand, searching for his sleeping area among the various temporary accommodations. Fermín accompanied him, his typical sugar-coated smile lighting up his face.

Amidst complaints and relief, they settled into their new temporary home. The large violet tent awaited them, and the wind dared not move it even an inch; everything was professionally installed to ensure comfort.

They entered, leaving their small backpacks on the padded area.

"It's bigger than I imagined," Fer casually remarked.

Pablo agreed; they could both stand upright and still not touch the fabric ceiling.

A silence fell as they settled in, sitting down.

"...What is one supposed to do when camping?" Gavi asked.

Fermín shrugged, not having a clear answer to that question; it was nighttime, and if they ventured outside, they would be tasty meals for mosquitoes, and the signal didn't reach their phones.

"Come here," the blond lay down and motioned for the other young man to come closer.

Filled with curiosity, Gavira crawled until he was lying next to his boyfriend. He took the opportunity to plant kisses on his nose, forehead, cheeks, and finally his lips. The darkness of the night cooled the passing winds; the temperature dropped.

"I missed you," Fermín said between kisses.

Pablo was always more responsive with actions, so he returned a kiss on the lips with his fiery intensity, intentions to mark what was his quite clear.

The minutes passed peacefully in the field, both of them focused their attention on devouring each other to placate the longing they had. A synchronization arose between their breaths, a dynamism that was typical of both, one that they developed since their years together in La Masía, where they secretly kissed in the corridors and hid what they needed most.

The dim light of the moon did not do enough justice to Pablo's attractiveness as the sun did, but between the dirty and wet union of obsessed lips, Gavi was embellished thanks to the lascivious chaos.

The Sevillian found a place on Fermín’s crotch, supporting his lower weight as they settled in.

The desperation that boiled in the air gave Fermín a certain nostalgia, he reminded him of the first nights he stayed in Gavira's luxurious apartment, both could not stand physical separation and at the slightest opportunity in which his cock allowed him, he had his boyfriend leaning on some surface covering his mouth because Pablo was very noisy; the neighbors had already written community notes because of the sounds.

A mental giggle inaugurated the chain of obscene memories, they did it on the floor, in the kitchen, in the bed, in the armchair, against the door, against the wall... in the house of their in-laws.

"What's so funny?"

Apparently the smiling sound was not satisfied with staying in his mind, it came out of his lips.

"Do you remember when we did it at your parents' house?" Fermín decided to tell him the reason for his reaction.

Pablo contoured himself in absolute embarrassment. Of course he remembered it, his parents would never stop berating him about that day.

That fifth of August he traveled to his childhood home to celebrate his birthday as a family, he already had months of relationship with Fermín so he took him with him to officially introduce themselves as a couple. His parents and his sister already knew the blond since he was little, the news was not a surprise at all.

What was a surprise for the family were the noises of squeaking springs and the back of the bed hitting the wall that night. The bedroom had its years, the walls looked like they were made of one centimeter wide paper.

His parents heard how Fermín fucked him hard against the bed of his childhood. The morning of the next day was immortalized as the most uncomfortable of his entire life, they had breakfast in silence in a group and his father imagined thousands of types of torture against Fermín, he expressed it with his angry face.

"Yes, I remember it," he replied doubtfully.

Fermín took and squeezed Gavi’s fleshy buttocks, committed to dry humping while lying down. The friction of both bodies above the clothes burned, the air became heavier, the tension went up.

"Well, yeah, this reminds me of when we were in your room and you begged me to give it to you harder," he released in a scratchy voice, imposing a deep eye contact between the two of them.

Pablo did not recognize the alleged similarities between the situations, but he also did not give much merit to logic at that time.

They were about to kiss again, they had a hunger that could never be completely satisfied.

But something strange happened suddenly. They heard a recognized voice shouting for help.

Fermín sat alarmed, opening his eyes asking Pablo if he heard the same thing as him.

The Andalusian looked equally scandalized, doubts scattered on his face.

For a few seconds silence reigned, until that voice in the distance returned, now more vivid and understandable.

"...I can...no...more! ...Do you do this? ... you kill me... of... fucking time?!" It was heard choppy, when the almost meaningless phrase ended, the dangerous situation became very real for the couple who sat scared.

Pedri, the both of them thought at the same time as they looked at each other in fear.

In those seconds, the noises of the animals outside the tent were heard, since they didn't speak for several seconds.

"I'll go and see what happens," Fermín said with a new found confidence, "Stay here."

Gavi just nodded in silence.

"If you get killed or you don't come back, know that I'll keep your car," Gavi tried to joke at an inappropriate time.

Fermín rolled his eyes and got up to get out of the tent.

Fermín walked through the darkness towards where he heard the shout, trying to be silent but as he couldn't see anything, he stepped on several twigs that crackled and alerted of his presence. When he reached the isolated area where the other two players were located, he turned on the flashlight of his phone to see better.

What he found was strange.

There was no one outside the tent, but on the dirt floor, there were signs of struggle everywhere. Traces of a fight were marked there, leading him to the entrance of the camping shelter. With fear, he approached one of the windows covered by insect-proof fabric to see what was happening inside.

He felt relieved to see that it was simply Ferran and Pedri playing fights, as they always did in training. He couldn't see the midfielder's expression well, but his body looked calm lying there, Ferran had a smile.

Everything was fine.

He returned to his area, stumbling again over the same branch that bothered him when he arrived. Pablo welcomed him to the tent with a worried look.

"Nothing happened, don't worry, that bastard Ferran was bothering Pedri as usual, or something like that," he said as he sat in front of his boyfriend. Relief ran through Gavi's veins.

"Fuckers," the Andalusian exclaimed, his strong Sevillian accent evident in his words. Fer grabbed Pablo by the hips and pressed him, pushing his body back.

"By the way, what do you mean you’re keeping my car? You're such a bad person," Fermín teased, unbuttoning one by one the buttons of Gavi’s shirt.

"Gavi smiled at him. "Am I very bad?"

"Yes..."

The urge to devour each other reappeared.

"Then punish me."

Fermín's brown irises imploded, being covered by the black of his pupil, desire expressed in challenging eyes.

Fermín stood ahead, colliding with the other's pink lips to bind them wildly in a French kiss.

Their clothes fell to the side, bodies in high temperatures needed to get rid of that discomfort.

Gavi spread his legs to present his entrance, his cock was erect and swollen against his stomach. Fermín’s fingers gently caressed that area; his partner's other hand was wrapped in his penis moving up and down.

The interference was comfortable, the finger that was inside him slid expertly, curving to meet his prostate. Fermín worked with both hands ecstatic with pleasure to Gavira, preparing him.

Pablo rocked his hips in the direction of the finger that entered with more belligerence.

"More, more please," he begged.

Another digit was inserted into the interior warm, working in the form of scissors to expand it more easily. It was almost too much but so little the double stimulation it gave him.

The somewhat cruel part of the Barcelona athlete's personality returned, he withdrew his fingers and his hand from Pablo to ask him to turn around. He had not invested so much time in stretching him enough, but it was on purpose, he knew that when he hurried in this part of sex the inside of Gavi would squeeze his cock more, the thought of sinking into his narrow walls caused him a feeling similar to vertigo, but in a exciting way, adrenaline generated by the possibilities.

Pablo listened to him, he laid on his stomach with his legs together, separating his buttocks with his hands to give him a good view of his entrance.

Fermin blasphemed in low notes, placing his legs on the sides of Gavi's low hip, settling down a little on his knees to align his cock. He rested his arms on Pablo's lower back, slowly pushing his intimate area to enter him.

Tight. Warm, incredible. He closed his eyes and murmured to himself how much he missed fucking his boyfriend without a condom. Grunts came out of his mouth, since he got in completely, he carried a pleased smile with pride.

He moved without Pablo's permission, since this was a 'punishment', he didn't care so much, he knew very well the boy he had under him; Gavi loved it when he was fucked with strength even without so much care.

He established a constant and fast rhythm, where sometimes he removed his cock completely to put it back to the bottom, enjoying the screams full of pleasure emitted by Gavi.

Fermín couldn't see him, but Gavi kicked gently behind his knees, it was the only movement he was allowed, his legs remained together, squeezing his boyfriend's member even more. His mouth was semi-open, erotic chants were snatched out of his lips on all occasions where Fermín’s cock bottomed.

From Fer's throat, bruised sounds were generated, the onslaughts got out of control, dirty sounds came out because of the rapid clash between skins.

Electric tingling and tingling sailed through Fermín's entire sexual extension, he wouldn't stand much longer.

His stomach tightened, Pablo bowed his head to the side to look at him sideways with pleasure written all on his pretty face.

It was that simple act that sent Fermín to his limit, the grip on Gavi's hip intensified until he pressed painfully, three or four more lunges and Fermín completely sank into his orgasm. He stayed deep inside the humid interior, a pure biological instinct that he possessed as a man made sure that he did that to ensure his boyfriend’s future pregnancy.

That, and that the feeling of releasing his semen inside was amazing, he felt complete euphoria.

He was still there for several seconds, breathing the new vigor that his orgasm gave him, he lived in his own flesh the feeling of believing that he has the whole world in the palm of his hand. Only Pablo could provoke that in him.

Energized, he removed his now more softened cock from Gavi's walls. His boyfriend looked at him curious, still sexually charged.

"I'm not done with you yet," said hoarse Fermín.

The blond accommodated his partner's toned body to be looking to the side, flexed Gavi's knees to make his way to the exposed entrance that he previously abused with love. He separated his buttocks and gave them a teasing bite, and then walked his tongue towards the hole.

Gavi unfolded his eyes in surprise.

"N-No, Fermín, there it's dirty with your c…" he tried to push the boy away by stretching his hair but another deep lick quickly changed his mind.

He approached his own hand to stimulate himself, selfish to hunt his own orgasm. He contracted because of the delight that his nervous system felt.

Fermín sucked and licked penetrating his tongue, savoring his own cum inside Gavi. He salivated the entire area and penetrated with his tongue several times, alternating between circular and direct movements.

Saliva mixed with seminal fluid escaped from his corner, he was focused on the action and on Pablo's fingers that pressed his head, that pressure demanded more from him.

Babbles that consisted of 'yes', 'fuck', 'I love it', 'qué rico' were the ones that dominated in the tent.

Pablo's eyes were crossed when his orgasm reached him, accumulated pressure was triggered by his crotch staining the sleeping bags they had unfolded to the side.

Sounds of tiredness and pleasure gradually dropped by decibels, ending Gavi’s climax.

"You have a little... in your..." he didn't even make an effort to finish the sentence, Gavi licked the rest of the semen that Fermín had on the side of his lips.

He deepened the kiss with love, with no intention of pursuing another sinful act. Different flavors were mixed in the exchange of saliva.

Fermín separated them and spoke with slight mockery.

"Bro, that's disgusting."

Silly laughter came out of him, Pablo furrowed his annoyed expression.

"You idiot, you're the dirty one, you were the one that at-!" The cheerful sound of Fermín laughing appeased Gavi’s anger.

The night passed between kisses and laughter.

(...)

29 notes · View notes

mamayan · 7 months

Note

I don't know how often we request for the Russian roulette,but I was hoping to request Geto and the numbers 3,76,60 and 95 the reader being older in her 30s and Geto being 27

Bang! … You’ve been shot!

Suguru Geto

tw: NSFW • Rough Sex • Overstimulation • Mild Angst • Possessive/Obsessive Themes • Fem! Reader

wc: 1033

You didn’t think about him as often anymore.

The underclassman which massacred an entire village overnight, his own family not spared either.

You don’t think about him like you used to.

The dark eyes of Suguru once haunting your dreams and life for years after that incident, questions going unanswered by the sweet boy who used to tease you despite being his senior. His smile radiant as he’d hide behind Satoru, your wrath unleashed as he whispered yet another filthy sentence directly into your ear.

You go about life in a mundane blur when you’re reminded of him. Eyes vacant and far elsewhere while the council chitters like rodents, occasionally pulled out by a silly expression flashed by Satoru if he happened to be present. You enjoyed those times when anyone was there to rid you of the uncomfortable sensation writhing in your chest when you recalled even his voice. The times when he used to use his tall stature against you, using you like an arm rest casually while he peaked over your shoulder to read a text message you’d be sending. “Who is that to? You never spend so long on a text you send to me,” he’d smile innocently under your baleful eyes, undeterred by your swatting hands. “You should change my contact, don’t girls use cute emoticons? Why is it only my name?” He’d use any excuse to touch you, crowd and wrap you up in his pace so seamlessly you’d miss how it even started.

The little touches soon swirled into full advances, his grip on your thigh as he swirled his tongue inside your mouth possessive. The time as horny teenagers when you just couldn’t keep your hands off one another.

Suguru was always a stubborn even then, you think, as the tug on your scalp brings you out of your thoughts. You don’t think like you used to.

“Hah—!” You don’t mean to cry out so loudly, body jolting from the shock of his harsh slap to your ass.

“Pay attention love, it’s rude to ignore me when I’m speaking,” he chides easily, hips never stopping at he fucks you at a cruel pace, your earlier releases dripping and drying on your inner thigh as you grip the sheets beneath you.

The man behind you, keeping you pinned and face first into the bed, hasn’t changed all that much since you were younger and more naive. He was always smart and calculating, every step like a chess battle he was determined to win.

“You’re really cute today, did you dress up just for me?” He’s referring to the lovely dress he’d torn off you, a gift from him no less, but you hadn’t actually expected to see him. Not after the weeks of silence which he likes to subject you to, but ultimately you prefer staying none the wiser of his movements and actions.

You clamp down on his cock as he reaches around you, gathering your slick up and rubbing it over your puffy nub while he continues to nail your deepest parts without mercy. “I missed you, did you miss me too?” He’s vile for playing with your heart like this, chest constricting painfully as tears leak down your cheeks. You answer despite it all, the pleasure and odd emotional pain mixing into something you have no name for but are clearly addicted to. “Y-yes, missed y-you ‘Sugu—!” You’re a mess of tears and drool as you feel another climax wash over you, face turned while he holds one hand in your hair to keep you pressed nicely below him.

“Hm, you’re cute even when you lie though.” He’s upset, you can tell from how rough he’s being with you, but you can do nothing about it.

“That’s okay my sweet little liar,” his chest touches your back, forcing you into an even deeper arch as he pounds into you. The lewd noises in the hotel room grow louder as you struggle to breathe through all the pleasure he’s subjecting you to. His hand doesn’t stop rubbing you even as you shatter, body jerking and attempting to escape from the overstimulation as he chuckles and pressed you down further. “S’too much—,” it’s a pathetic keen deep from within your throat as you’re made to take it, his thrusts only hitting deeper with how he’s got you pressed. His long hair tickles your cheek, eyes wet and blurry as you try to stay conscious.

“I think it’s not enough, don’t you? Since you keep slipping away if I fall asleep.” You couldn’t if you tried, he allows you to leave, but you can hear something dark in his tone now. His nails dig into your scalp, dragging your hair into his clutch and tugging painfully. He’s forcing your head further to the side and up so he can look at you, undeterred by your fucked out appearance as he sneers.

“You really like playing hard to get don’t you? Even in school you acted oblivious, but I’m not letting that slide anymore.”

“‘Sugu—!” Your squeal is soon muffled as he forces your face into the bedding, his angle changing so his tip painfully nails against your cervix.

“Since you won’t make a decision, I’ve made one for you.” You aren’t strong enough to sit up, body unwilling to listen as he assaults you with pure bliss and promise of another release. “I’m not letting you go anymore. You’ve worn even my patience out.” You’re delirious, his eyes drinking in your lax expression as his balls draw tight.

“No need to cry baby, you’ve got one more in you, cum again for me.” His husky voice is moaning right into your ear, fingers shifting to pinch your poor swollen clit, forcing you into a sharp climax as you soak his cock while he finishes just behind you.

“That’s it,” his teeth are grit, brows drawn tight as a sense of rightness washes over him, decision final now that he’s come to it. “So good for me,” but the opposite feeling consumes you, his kiss and hand gentle as he brushes the hair sticky with sweat off your forehead.

He’s not going to let you go anymore.

Post dividers/@cafekistune

#500 Event #Suguru Geto #Suguru Geto x reader #Suguru Geto smut #Suguru Geto x reader smut #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk Suguru smut

43 notes · View notes

traitorca · 10 months

Text

My Iron Lung - The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader - 2

Masterlist

He’s dead. Rick is dead, that’s what he told you. Shane couldn’t stay in there long, and neither could any of you as troopers shot and killed just about anyone in sight. You slapped him, for some reason you actually slapped him. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him- no, of course you didn’t, it seemed so unlikely. His vitals were just fine as of your last visit- but Shane wouldn’t lie about that- That was his best friend and you couldn’t just feel entitled- no, paranoid because of your relationship. Despite your inner turmoil, it took everything in you not to rush back in there and see for yourself the outcome of Rick.

That leads you to now, grip on the steering wheel harsh as you drove out of Kings County, to the interstate which would lead you to Atlanta. The radio said that a safe zone was put up, that seeking refuge would be possible while they figure out how to stop this outbreak. But from an epidemiologist’s perspective, you didn’t think it could be stopped.

Prior to the apocalypses reign in the States, you had received a call from your colleague when the UK had just been shut down for quarantine. They had asked- urgently, for any information based upon your latest research. Now that you thought about it, it seemed suspicious of you to leave so urgently after working on a patient who undoubtedly was a cause of this pandemic. You had told them all you knew, bacteria, infection- ants.

Why ants? Well, you were sure it had something to do with the zombie ant fungus native to the rainforests of South America. This disease was capable of taking pathogenesis and altering the entire behavioral system of an ant, and making it a tool for conquering. To an extent, this victim would die spreading a disease- but unfortunately, not all of the symptoms in this apocalypse matched those. But it was entirely possible- the thought of the world sweltering due to atmospheric change, global warming- who wasn’t to say such a fungi wouldn’t adapt to its surroundings? In an attempt of desperation, try a different host? Not to say this was all caused by an ant, but there were no theories that served as a proper alternative.

You couldn’t even cry, that’s how strange this all was. Your brother was dead, and you couldn’t feel a thing but the adrenaline rush. If you weren’t careful, you were sure to rear end someone on the highway as they all seemed to slow down. To be honest, you weren’t that familiar to road rage, but this was a new level of anger.

Shane was sitting in the passenger seat, arm propped up on the open window. It was too hot to sit idle in a car, underneath the setting sun, on the middle of a highway in Georgia. Atlanta better be worth it.

An accident of some sorts had happened up on the road, a blockage of cars preventing the caravan from moving further into Atlanta. This called for the people in their cars to gather outside, mingle together at any chance for survival or support until they were able to make it there safely. Which- to some people, is a good thing. Strength in numbers. But if you learned anything from your line of work, and you were sure Shane knew it too, people don’t change overnight when the world goes to shit. Maybe their world was shit already, and this only would give them an excuse to act out and lose the last ounce of morality they had.

You sat on the car's hood, a melted popsicle in hand as you watched Carl talk to a girl about his age. You had packed the last few Otterpops left in your freezer, and it was holding Carl over, and you were surely content as you could be. Lori and Shane had wandered with a group of people into the woods, dusk falling over the sky. Helicopters flew past overhead, their propellers slicing through the air as you bit into the ice.

“My Aunt is the coolest! She’s a scientist- I think she can figure this whole thing out-!” Carl, bless his heart, was just excited he had someone to talk to. But things like that- saying you could potentially save the world? That was a large claim, and you were unsure you were fit to fill the expectation.

“A scientist?” Sophia responded, looking up at you. “You don’t look like a scientist.”

“I don’t look like a lot of things.” You responded, smiling down at her as you pushed yourself off the hood of Shane’s jeep. “I am a scientist but-“

“So you know what’s going on?” Sophia’s mother, Carol, seemed to train attention to the conversation. “What ‘this’ is?”

“Well- it’s really hard to say, but before I left my research, I had found that it could be related to fungi-“

“Or the wrath of God!” Carl finished for you.

“Yeah. That too.”

This didn’t seem to bring any comfort to Carol or her daughter, but she seemed keen on staying around you. “Do you think… you could fix it?”

“Well- I don’t know if IM the right one for that, there are plenty of other experienced people in my field-“

“But could you?”

“Carol, stop fucking around with this woman.” Her husband came out of their car, eyes narrowed as he grabbed her wrist. “Sorry if she’s bothering you, Doc.” The nickname was bitter, almost as if it was drenched in venom.

“No. It’s okay. I’m just afraid I don’t know all the answers.” You laughed anxiously, looking back at Carl as you ruffled his hair.

He laughed at that. How charming, if you could roll your eyes you would. “I wouldn’t leave that job to a woman anyway, leave it to the professionals.”

“Excuse me?” Out of all the misogynistic things said to you your whole life, this was honestly something you weren't expecting. You were pissed, other hand clenched around the otterpop that was long gone by now. Before you could get another word out, the horizon lit up in large, orange plumes of light. The ground shook, noises comparable to thunder flooded the air. Helicopters whipped past, smoke visibly now as it surfaced over Atlanta.

What happened to Atlanta being safe?! Safe my ass.

Carl dove for your arms, hands gripping the back of your tank top as he shook. “Where’s mom-?! She should’ve been back-“

“Shh- no, she’s fine. She’s with Shane, alright? He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Just like I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” You whispered, kissing your head. “See? See, people are coming back from the woods. Lo will be here.” You really had to work on your comforting skills, because as much as you wanted Carl to believe your words, you weren’t sure you believed them either.

The next few days were slow, hot, and downright depressing. You had found a group at that blockade on the highway a few days back, and had located yourself at a quarry. Your new found purpose was in the form of a man named Dale, sisters Amy and Andrea, T-Dog, Glenn, Morales and his family, Jacqui, Jim, Carol, Ed, and Sophia- you were never popular in highschool, so this really must be your IT girl phase.

Rumors of your ex-occupation spread fast, Carl not leaving a single detail out. You were unsure if he was saying these things to show off, or convince himself that this world could be fixed. It was sad when you thought about it, Carl never really had the chance to be a kid. He was about- eleven now? No, twelve. This really was a reminder you weren’t around much. You were glad you were here now at least, and you were damn sure Carl wouldn’t leave your sight this time. Lori could take care of herself- well, more like Shane would take care of her instead. You weren’t going to act dumb, you knew the way Shane looked at her wasn’t just friendly. Nothing about Shane was “just friendly”.

People seemed to keep you close, constantly making conversation with you- questioning you on your job. You hate to say it, but you didn’t get the job for the money or the attention. You weren’t like a NASA scientist or whatever- so this was strange. People were so convinced you were some special, intelligent alien from another world- but you were just a woman in her twenties.

Rick would know what to do. Rick always knew what to do, he’s the reason you got out of Kings County- because he told you that you were meant for more. Not to be locked in a life you couldn’t escape. You had no doubt Rick loved his son and wife, family was a big part of being a Grimes, but you knew you weren’t just your family name, and he did too.

All the things you could’ve said to him, and you couldn’t. And now he was dead, probably mauled to death in some hospital bed, infected- a freakish monster, much like the ones he promised to protect you from when you were just a child.

How you missed the times when THAT was the thing to be afraid of.

You liked your time alone, you had always been a loner- but this was another level. Walking alone as a woman was scary enough- but now it was much more than men who would grab you without thinking twice. Now they didn’t have to think at all. Despite this, you enjoyed walking out by yourself- with a firearm of course, considering nothing was really illegal and it was the ONLY option anyway. Besides, the group didn’t have any real, concrete food sources, and you were damned to hell if Shane was really going to feed you all frogs for dinner. So you offered to find berries and plants that were edible, because- not to brag, you were pretty darn smart when it came to a lot of things.

The pine straw shuffled beneath your feet, sun slowly setting above you as birds softly chirped overhead, almost as if they were scared to draw too much attention. Your lips were pressed into a thin line, a small drop of sweat dripping down your forehead at a leisurely pace. You had a bucket with you, filled with all sorts of plants you had collected from the underbrush. You missed real food- even squirrels were starting to look better on a dinner plate than in a tree- and that’s when you KNOW you’ve gone crazy. Maybe the apocalypse wasn’t for everyone, but your resilience made you a strong contender- but also, a really big fucking idiot.

Picky eaters suck ass in situations like this.

You didn’t get too terribly far, but you were starting to realize that your surroundings were becoming a little bit too unfamiliar for your liking. With this in mind, you noted that you should probably head back soon as the sun was getting lower every passing moment.

Your feet turned, body instantly colliding with something as you fell to the ground. A freak. A fucking freak gnawing at you- shaky hands keeping his jaw lengths away from your face. How had you not heard it?! What the fuck- Teeth, nails, teeth, nails, teeth- teeth teeth teeth- watch the teeth!

You cursed, hand reaching for your gun as your bucket was long gone from your grasp. You struggled, grunting as you attempted to push its body off of you with just one hand. How fucking embarrassing- no one had ever caught you this off guard before, much less a freak.

“Get the fuck off! Get off-!” You yelled, hand finally freeing your gun from your belt. You knew loud noises would draw them- you couldn’t risk that, not with your camp near. You ALSO knew that if they heard a gun fire, you couldn’t pretend to know nothing about it. Shane would never let you out again if he knew what a close call you had. So, you did the next best thing. You slammed the butt of your gun straight into its head, knocking it off of you. It rolled, gurgling as it went to stand again. You rolled away, hands pushing yourself up as you turned to face it again. You raised your gun, mentally preparing for the shit show Shane and Lori were going to be when you got back, having fired a gun-

You aimed, fingering the trigger as you slowed your breathing. Remember what Rick taught you, slow, precise- shoot.

The walker fell, but you hadn’t pulled the trigger.

A second passed as you stared.

Another, as you lowered your gaze to the ground.

In its head, where the bullet would’ve been, was a carbon arrow with a green fletching.

“Well look a’ what we have ‘ere, Darlina… I dare say you just saved her ass.”

Men fucking suck.

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