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cobaltperun · 3 months ago

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Hi, i saw your post about taking requests. Can you write a natasha x fem reader were the reader is taller than her and after a difficult mission nat is just very clingy and doesn't want to let her gf qo so reader just picks her up and wak around like that? Just some cute, adorable natasha feeling bad about what happened at the mission and the reader being there for her, maybe talking about it? But overall fluff

Thanks, feel free to add whatever things you want

I'm right here

Natasha Romanoff x female Reader (Request)

Summary: Following a dangerous mission all Natasha needs right now is to be close to you, and you're more than happy to tend to her needs.

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4k

Set between The Avengers and CA: TWS

Static buzzing of your ruined comms forced you to open your eyes as you pulled the damn earpiece out. The stench of burning plastic and burnt skin and blood and suffocating smoke made you groan as you tried to roll onto your back and sit up. Your head felt like it was going to explode and the warm blood slowly trickling from your forehead down the side of your face wasn’t a good sign. Oh, Natasha was going to be so damn pissed off when she sees you. Assuming she even gets to see you again in the first place. “I got this,” you mockingly repeated as you sat up and leaned against the wall and looked around you. The lab was in ruins, computers blown up, equipment destroyed, enemy soldiers dead, some shot, some killed by the explosion.

You glanced at the USB stick, at least you accomplished what you were after. The data Fury wanted was safely in your hands and all things considered you were sure you bought enough time for Natasha and Clint to get the hostages out. All that was left to do was to get out alive.

Footsteps caught your attention, too many to be Nat and Clint, and the three of you didn’t bring any backup. “I need a vacation,” you sighed. Was there any chance you could convince your workaholic of a girlfriend to take more than three days off?

Probably not.

You tucked the USB stick away and checked your gun, you still had plenty of ammo left.

~X~

Years spent working for S.H.I.E.L.D. changed her, she dared to think she was trying to do something good, to make up for at least a tiny bit of suffering she caused. She grew to care for people, for Clint, his family… for you, and with that care she came to dread the sound of static coming through the comms more than nearly any sound.

Hearing you were in trouble would have been easier. At least then Natasha wouldn’t feel any uncertainty, she’d know where you were and that she needed to get to you. She’d know how much time she had.

Natasha Romanoff despised uncertainty.

She despised not knowing what happened.

She despised knowing the last thing she heard from your side was an explosion.

The worry etched on her face was easily noticeable, especially to Clint. “She’ll be fine,” he assured her, firing off another arrow and taking out a guard with a sniper rifle ready. As much as Natasha wanted to rush toward you, she still had hostages to lead to safety, and as much as she hated to admit it, the wound on her side was bothering her.

“It should have been me,” and that was the initial plan. She was the best equipped to go in, retrieve the data and blow the whole place up before anyone even realized she was there. Natasha could have done it, she should have done it, and you should have been here with Clint, leading two hostages out. Instead, she got wounded and now you were the one in danger.

Clint took aim, noticing another guard a fraction of a second faster than she could. She really was worried, and it was affecting her more than she ever thought possible.

All Natasha could do was hope her worries and the bad feeling she had was just paranoia, and not her intuition telling her to drop everything and go back to get you. If she lost you here, she would never forgive herself.

~X~

You took several deep breaths as you looked around the room, it was over, you killed every single one of the criminals that came after you and you tossed aside and empty gun. It wasn’t even your own, you ran out of bullets about halfway into the fight, so you grabbed a gun one of the criminals had and just kept firing until there was no one else left to fire at.

The rush of adrenaline slowly passed, and your legs trembled, but you were alive. You held the side of your head, dizzy from the loss of blood and what was probably a concussion. Soon enough this mission would be over and you could rest. You just had to-

A gunshot echoed and a bullet missed your head by less than an inch, causing you to as quickly as possible take cover behind a table that was turned over. “Fuck,” you cursed under your breath. There was a gun close to you, you just had to take a bit of a risk and get it. And also get lucky and find a bullet in the gun.

All a part of the job, you figured.

A bullet went through the criminal’s head before you could even consider making a lunge for the gun and you saw Natasha rushing in, gun drawn and ready to fire. “Nat,” despite knowing you were still in a dangerous place you visibly relaxed.

“Couldn’t leave things to chance,” Clint’s voice echoed as through the room as he walked through the same hall Natasha did.

Natasha was tense, looking for any sign of an enemy, and in your current state all you could do was admire her. “Let’s get you out of here,” you knew her, she couldn’t truly relax until you were both out of here.

“Yes, Ma’am,” you smiled, hoping it would reassure her, even if only a tiny bit. “I’m right here, Nat, you got me,” and despite Natasha being on edge her eyes softened when she looked at you.

~X~

Natasha despised sitting in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hospital hall, waiting for you to get patched up. She was relieved that you were fine and basically just needed some bandages, but she was restless, constantly replaying the moments from the mission in her mind, specifically the sight of a man aiming his gun toward you and moving to close the distance so he wouldn’t miss this time. She moved purely on an instinct, firing before she could even consciously make that decision and blowing a hole through the side of the man’s head. Years of trying to wipe red off her ledger and still she took a life with ease, not even considering it, not even for a moment regretting it.

Now though, now she just needed to see you, just to be completely sure you were fine. Nothing else mattered. The doors opened and she jumped to her feet, seeing you walking out on your own, a bit bandaged up but otherwise fine. The bright look in your eyes made the restlessness go away and Natasha met you halfway.

“Saved me again,” you smiled at her as she looked up into your eyes. How many times has she saved you by now? You both lost count. She didn’t lose count of how many times you saved her, eleven times thus far, though she was certain you never counted them. She did, though. And she found relief in knowing that you were willing to go out of your way to save her, even when she herself used to think she wasn’t worth saving.

Instead of saying anything Natasha just threw her arms around you, clinging desperately to you. She wanted to kiss you, right here, right now, but it was too risky. Too many eyes around you, even if the hall itself was empty. Walls had eyes and ears, and she’d rather keep people guessing if these hugs were between friends or lovers. A keen eye might spot the difference, might see the way she wouldn’t let go, the way she’d lower her guard and try to close as much of the distance between you as possible, or the way you’d bury your face in her hair, taking comfort in her presence, especially after missions that end up being too close for comfort.

“What did the doctor say?” she asked as her fingers traced the bandages around your head.

“A concussion and a few wounds, nothing a bit of rest won’t fix,” you answered, prompting her to nod. She checked your injuries as Clint flew toward the hospital, and your answer matched her assessment, but she still appreciated hearing what the professional said. You’d be perfectly fine, you just needed a bit of rest.

Considering you were about as human as her and Clint were, and not a super soldier, or a billionaire with a suit of armor, and especially not near indestructible beings, Natasha considered herself lucky that you survived this many close calls with little more than rest needed to recover.

“Thanks,” it still should have been her, she should have been in danger, but she wouldn’t tell you that.

“We’re the same, I don’t want to lose you either,” not that she needed to tell you, you knew what was on her mind, you understood how much Natasha wanted you out of danger, in part because you wanted her out of danger just as much. So, you compromised, going together on missions hoping you would keep one another as safe as possible.

~X~

What restraint Natasha had while you were out in public vanished the moment you were back in your shared room as she straddled your lap and hugged you on the sofa, and you couldn’t help but smile at how clingy she was. For a deadly assassin she sometimes acted more like a koala, clinging onto you and not letting go.

Like an assassin not letting their target out of their sight for a single moment, only cuddly and soft, and very warm.

And you loved every second of it. “Nat,” you chuckled before she decided your mouth had more important tasks to do than let out sounds and kissed you, preventing chuckling or any form of light teasing that might have come out of your mouth. You’d never complain about that. You ran your fingers through her hair, she hasn’t cut it in a while now and Natasha hummed softly into the kiss, relaxing and just driving you insane with her touch. All you could feel was Natasha, her slightly swollen lips because of course she chewed on her lower lip while you were being patched up, her hands, so used to handling guns, gently holding you, pulling you closer to her, the sound of her soft, barely audible moans between kisses, the scent of the soap she used, and something uniquely her own, the weight of her body on top of your own… And when you separated for a brief moment, and you opened your eyes all you could see was Natasha. Everything else faded into the background and you were lost in her eyes. She looked like she was searching for something, a reassurance, or just another proof that you were just fine. “I’m right here,” you kept repeating those words to her, through dangerous missions and battles, through nights filled with nightmares, most importantly through all the moments when she’d get stuck in her head, thinking she’s not worthy of the redemption she was so desperately chasing. Just a simple reminder that you were with her, no matter what.

Natasha opened her mouth, only to change her mind and just close it before saying anything. Instead she just hugged you tightly, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and letting out a sigh of relief.

“That tickles,” you chuckled, prompting Natasha to huff and then purposely blow air against your neck. “Nat,” you would never complain, you could never. You cherished every single moment like this, when she would just drop every mask and be herself with you. Oh, she could be assertive, and tease, and confidently mess with anyone, but these playful moments free from caution were rare.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, and you would have stayed like that a lot longer if you could stand being hungry. In your defense you came back home somewhat hungry, and that was hours ago. “Food. Now,” you would starve if this hunger prolonged any longer. Yet Natasha didn’t budge. “Nat?”

“I just got comfortable,” yeah, two hours ago. You rolled your eyes, even if you were smiling and got up with Natasha still clinging to you.

“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you kissed her cheek and went to the kitchen, not even daring to consider letting Natasha go.

This time it was Natasha’s turn to roll her eyes. “Bitch, I’m adorable,” she was right, of course.

You grabbed some toast and some cream cheese, since that was the first thing you managed to grab with Natasha between you and the fridge. “Pickles or no pickles?” you asked before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort.

“Make me one as well,” Natasha blindly reached back into the fridge to grab peanut butter, and you were still amazed that she could just do it. No hesitation, no second thoughts, just reached into the fridge and pulled what she wanted out.

“Sure,” you made the sandwiches and went back to the sofa, eager to finally eat something. Natasha wasn’t as excited about eating, and while you absolutely slaughtered your sandwich like a woman starving for weeks would, she occasionally took a bit and instead just kept close to you. Your eyes softened and you once again began rubbing circles into Natasha’s back.

It wasn’t the first time she got like this. When you started dating it didn’t really happen, she showed you how much she cared, sure, but it was never like this, never this desperate to feel your heart beating. And then New York happened, and you both had some very close calls, and she spent the night just like this, not moving away from you unless it was absolutely necessary.

She needed to know this was real, to feel it was real. With everything she went through, how much she suffered through, she needed time. She needed you to be with her, so the thoughts of losing you would quiet down.

And you’d give it to her every single time. This and anything else she needed.

“I’m right here,” you whispered into her ear, soft and gentle as she closed her eyes.

“You’re with me,” she replied, slowly falling asleep in your arms, at peace and comfortable.

A/N: Thank you for the request! I really had fun writing it, and I'm sorry it took so long for me to write it 😁💙

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #mcu fandom #marvel mcu #x reader #x female reader #perunrequests

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blusool · 5 months ago

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Well-Conditioned : Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki was acting oddly. And that was underwhelming of a statement to put it because he was all over the place. Fidgeting, crackling, and irritation were through the roof. Katsuki was barely in his seat even. Bouncing his leg, he couldn't help but feel like he did something wrong. Why else, wouldn’t you kiss his cheek as you always did whenever he did something for you?

Katsuki sucked ass when it came to talking love. But it wasn’t that he didn’t show it through his actions. Softened gaze dripping honey each time he wiped his sweat palms on his pants before cupping your cheeks. There was no way he’s gonna get the sticky vile flammable on you—his precious.

Katsuki showed his love when he snatched your backpack off your shoulder, throwing it over his while he dragged you out of the class. He earned himself a sickly sweet kiss on his cheek, showing that you acknowledged his actions and their meaning. It wasn’t an ‘I love you,’ but that’s what anyone but them would say.

Katsuki wasn’t big on grand gestures of love either but he made do with little trinkets and stickers he bought because ‘he thought of you’. And you like it that way. Or at least that’s what he inferred when you would jump into his arms, kissing all over his face.

He surely couldn’t write about his love, he tried that crap and ended up charring his desk black. But he packed you bentos whenever you were to travel back home from the UA dorms. He made sure to put in extra effort and make the fanciest dishes in case your parents were to see the food and judge him off it ( a good potential husband?). Before you would have seen the inside contents or noticed a lacking love note he should have written to you, he would have his arm tugged down, his precious on her toes, to press a big smooch to his cheek.

Katsuki was more than gentlemanly for you, he was your boyfriend, so, of course, he tied your shoelaces for you (why do you still use the bunny ears method, is his excuse), draping his jacket over your legs whenever you wore skirts, all because he knew you liked to manspread worse than him. He carries pads and hair ties in his bag, but which boyfriend wouldn’t? He holds your heels with a grumpy frown, holding your waist to ensure you didn’t trip in his shoes because you thought you could handle being in heels all day.

Katsuki did all this not for praise or compliment. No, he wasn’t obligated to do these either, but he did it because that’s what a good boyfriend would do for you. That however didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate or relish the kisses he received each time he showed his love through his actions.

So what was different today? When he draped his jacket around your shoulder today, why didn’t he get his kiss? And he knows you noticed it, turning your head to him offer your sweet smile, before returning back to your conversation with Mina.

THAT’S IT? Katsuki was confused, he had even leaned in to receive his daily dose of kiss, instead of awkwardly standing back straight noticing his instinct. Was he desperate? No. Was he needy? Maybe. Why can’t a man get his share of kisses?

Staring at you annoyed he waited for you to notice.

BUT YOU NEVER DID.

He even huffed thrice, each time only receiving a distracted rub on his thigh while you gossiped with Mina. Gosh, he wanted to explode her right now. When he finally got over his petty subtle hints he just grabbed your face to face him.

"How long will it take ya' to kiss me, brat?”

Katsuki was easy though. Maybe not for everyone, but his little doll had him wrapped around her finger. When you just smiled innocently at him, pecking his lips without a question. The beast was finally appeased.

“Thank you for the jacket, ‘Suki”

Goddamn, this woman really had conditioned him to seek her kisses without a clue in her pretty head.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated >.<

please lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist. my inbox is open for any requests too if you guys might have any.

#bakugou katsuki #mha katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki x you #katsukibakugou

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thewritingfairy · 2 months ago

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↪ au: Poetic justice

Alternative ending to 04.1 Jason's crime I'll be honest I kept this one short mainly because this is a little bit darker then I usually write and idk if I should use a mature tag, because my original plan for this side story is a lot darker (I turned it down a lot). It might become a multiple part side story, depends if you guys like it. trigger warnings: medical + physical + emotional neglect, guilt, character death (semi-graphic suicide), gn reader (just pretend Reader is out in this au) main m.list series m.list

‘I’m sorry mama.

It hurts, so much. I can’t take it anymore. It’s all too much, I can’t go on like this, but I know you didn’t me to turn out this way. But I can’t go back. This is the end, and all I do is listen to them.

I am scared of what will happen if I don’t, I’m so terrified mama. I can’t go on like this, but if I do this, isn’t it the easy way out? Especially for them? Wouldn’t I just be giving them what they want? A life without me? Oh, mama, how I wish you were here to guide me, to teach me, to talk me through this. To tell me what I can do.

At least I did what you taught me, I documented everything from the moment I could grab my phone. I took pictures of the injuries he gave me, I did as you taught me, but having these like a card up my sleeve isn’t enough. I want to die, but not just kill myself and leave a note. No, I want to explode this all in Bruce’s face. I want him to feel the hurt I feel.

I want him to burn here on earth and on hell.

That is the justice I want, it’s the justice I need. So I made a plan, you’ll be mad when we meet again. I know it, but you’ll understand. Won’t you, mama? I tried for so long, and this was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Once I am done I hope the find this diary. I hope that they know that I am dead because of them all.’

You sigh, you hadn’t written in your diary for a while, not since the attack. But today your ‘family’ isn’t here.

Today you are doing what you should have done the day your mama died. But you aren’t leaving before pulling the manor down with you, you had created a social media account that quickly garnered followers. Mainly from school, they all wanted to know more about you. They want to know why you aren’t attending classes, and they’ll learn.

It will shatter their hope to know that the Wayne family isn’t as squeaky clean as everyone thinks they are.

You will shatter Gotham’s perspective the moment your timed camera and social media posts hit the decks. You just need to move fast, you had already gotten everything ready, Jason’s clothes are sturdy and make for a good make-shift rope, and won’t it be poetic? Beaten to the point that scars have already began to form, and now you’ll die at the hands of his clothes wrapped around your neck.

Just like his hands were that day.

But this time it won’t be in your room, no, even if your room was now a creepy replica of your original one, you won’t defile it. You’ll do it right here in the living room, the room your family met up in the most and the room you avoided the most.

Your hands shaking as you stand up on the stool, there is no time to turn back.

You close your eyes and as you feel life slip away from you, and when you feel it get closer? You smile.

The Bat Family knows death like it’s their closest friend, Jason specifically, having been in heaven after all. But when he arrives at the manor, waiting for a debrief, he realises he’ll never go there again.

Because here he stands frozen, in front of the sibling he had harmed, they were just hanging there. Oh god, what has he done? Tears roll down his eyes as he walks towards them. Completely unaware of his surroundings, not even noticing that a camera is rolling, that sirens are slowly surrounding the manor. He should consider himself luckily that he had already changed in sweatpants, no sign of his Red Hood gear. Otherwise he had to explain more than just their wounds.

The closer he got to them, the more his surroundings seem to disappear. The more he doesn’t notice, the others had rushed in the room after hearing the sirens and getting an alert from Barbara that (Name) leaked the situation on the internet, with proof. Bruce had lied to her, he said it was just a small situation. Shouting over the comms to demand the truth, is it all true? Did they truly do this her? But it doesn’t matter, Jason did this. He pushed them to their death.

“Oh God,” he chokes out, as he finally reaches his arms out to touch your body. As he finally takes in your expression. You’re smiling, as if you are glad. As if you are finally safe. He did this. He did this to you. “I’m sorry, what have I done….”

He falls to his knees, his head touching the ground as his sobs echo in the room. But his pity party didn’t last for long, no. Before he could reach for your body and beg for forgiveness Tim pushes him away from your body, angry tears streaming down his face. “You don’t get to touch them.” His voice was shaking, his body rigid and tense. He was on the defensive. Tim seems deluded as he shouts, pointing at them all; “None of you get to touch them!”

Tears streaming down his face as he screams once more; “What have we done?!” (Oh, would this have been him if Bruce hadn’t saved him?) His thoughts torture him and all he could do was pull on his hair, almost tearing it out as he swears he can see your body move. Your smile turning sour the longer he looks at your face. As if you’re telling him; ‘Oh, Tim, couldn’t you do this for me when I was alive? Couldn't you have defended me before?’

Then Tim’s eyes widen, what if you can still be saved, what if he can still turn your faith around?

If you were saved, would his complicity be forgiven?

He works quick, taking your body down as he tries to save you. But your body is already getting cold, it’s too late, but he doesn’t care. He needs you to open your eyes, he needs to ask for forgiveness, he needs to turn your faith around.

You needed someone in your corner, he shouldn’t have been complicate, he should have saved you. That's what Red Robin's for, to protect those that couldn't protect themselves. And he had left you behind, the person that saved him, the person that could relate to him the most. And he never let you in.

He didn’t even notice he was hyperventilating until Bruce pulled him away from your body as paramedics rush into the room. Bruce holds Tim in a bruising hug, almost as if he's terrified Tim would die too. His eyes shot up to where his other siblings were, their eyes terrified. Their eyes looking at your body as if it was all a dream.

Then it all became real.

You are pronounced dead.

And a dread settles upon them all.

They, who are Gotham’s protectors, killed a civilian.

They were the cause of a death of someone they vowed to protect. All because of their own ignorance.

as I said before if you guys like this I'll make it in a bigger side story, but it would get a new taglist and it's own masterlist. For this chapter I'll use the taglist for Nobody's child.

taglist (Nobody's child): @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

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anundyingfidelity · 1 year ago

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DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH? — Billy Butcher

Summary: Butcher gives orders for you to stay back from the fight. You hardly comply and prove differently; he starts thinking in a very improper manner about you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female!supe reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: smut!! hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to fuck buddies, reader can control blood and explode shit (like Victoria Neuman lol), the usual mentions of violence.

Notes: this is a request made by @thatcharmingmushroom for my 400 followers drabbles celebration. I'm sorry I took soooo damn long on this, but I hope you like it and thank you so much for the idea because I had so much fun with it! I picked the Herogasm episode for this tho hehe

☕ if you like my writing support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

On the hunt for Payback, you made your way to infiltrate Herogasm along with Butcher, Hughie and the new asshole, Soldier Boy, not caring that the British dick ordered you a thousand times to stay back.

For different reasons, you were kind of forced to stay with the team, and while you didn’t really get along with any of them, Butcher was by far the one you hated the most. And, in the end, when Soldier Boy burned the whole place to the ground with a blast and Homelander arrived, you couldn’t stand there doing nothing. While the three men tried to hold down Homelander, you used your blood to create strong whips around his limbs, trying to tie him to the ground as Soldier Boy prepared to blast, yet again.

But just in seconds, Homelander recharged himself and pushed them all aside, cutting your whips, and flashing you quickly with his heat vision before storming out. Your blood blades barely made it to the hole he left in the roof as the supe just disappeared, flying away like a scared bitch.

“Well,” you started after an instant of staying silent. “I guess we fucking failed.”

Butcher shot you a dark glare as he walked straight until he stopped in front of you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You held his eyes as he towered you with his broad figure. He looked even more intimidating now he started playing the supe, injecting himself with Compund V. “I don’t care.”

There was this smug smirk on his face as you talked back. You knew he hated you; you knew you hated him. But as fucking weird your powers were, controling blood and exploding people with their own, Butcher found you interesting and stupidly astonishing. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. They were just intrusive thoughts about you and how hot you were, defying his direct orders of strictly not coming to the supe-orgy. Yeah, Homelander was a fucking cunt, and he would take care of Soldier Boy soon too. Right now, he just needed something to take the stress out after another stupid failure. His hand would work later once back at the motel, he decided.

Butcher leaned down, until his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Why do I have to keep listening to you?” you asked as Butcher followed back to the motel.

You stopped right out of your door, because of course you weren’t going to share a room with him and the old asshole. Hughie, who went inside their room, was the only decent human being between all of them, but still, you had to take care of yourself from those fuckers. Besides, the British idiot wouldn’t stop the verbal vomiting the whole fucking trip and you were growing sick of it.

“Because, for starters, you’re a fucking newbie here,” Butcher replied, smirking hatefully. “And second, your powers are fucking out of control. You need training and keep your mouth shut.”

You rolled your eyes, showing him your wrists. “I already healed myself from the cuts I made. Perhaps I should use your blood next time?”

“No, there’s no next time for you.”

“You don’t decide that, Butcher,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tired of being treated like a stupid kid. “I’m helping on this, I want him dead. And if any of you idiots don’t kill him, then I will.”

He curved an eyebrow, not showing any signs of being taken aback at your words, but inside, he was just in awe as before. You really hated Homelander as much as he did, however, you didn’t have a fucking plan. You would attack first, ask questions later. In any way, since when could he care about that? He had no idea.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy talked behind Butcher and stepped in closer between both of you. “You fucking stay back from this, you ain’t doing shit with your blood whips.”

Furious, you motioned your hand to draw fresh blood from a wound on his cheek and created a sharp blade, cutting his skin lightly. Soldier Boy clenched his jaw before smirking at you.

“Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll blow your dick, and not the way you like it,” you warned through your teeth.

Soldier Boy wiped the blood off the fresh wound, and smiled anew before patting Butcher on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, pal.”

With that, the old supe disappeared in the next room. You just wanted this to be over, so you turned around to get inside your room, but Butcher wouldn’t leave you alone just yet, putting his foot between the door and the frame, holding it with his super strength.

“What the fuck you want now?!” you yelled at him as he made his way inside, slamming the door closed.

“Imma have to call the fucking CIA if you don’t calm down your ass,” he threatened between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t-”

“I can, and I fucking will,” he insisted, taking slow strides, making you step back from him until your back met the wall.

His eyes were getting dangerously dark and you could smell the sweat and dry blood coming from him. You noticed his pulse was increasing, and you grinned. Your mind jumped to an unsafe place where you probably knew what Butcher was feeling right now. The heat and coming down the high of what could have been the end of both yours and his enemy was too much to burden. Little did he know that you were the kind of person that used to take out the stress with something, or someone. Just like him.

“From one to ten, how much do you hate me?” you asked all of the sudden, looking straight into his eyes.

Butcher’s fierceful gaze turned into confusion. “What?”

“How fucking much do you hate me?” you repeated yourself steadier.

Butcher rolled his eyes before answering in a whisper. “I’d choose a one thousand scale for that.”

“Good, I hate you too,” you replied with a smirk before pulling him for a kiss that turned heated too fast, but you didn’t care.

You needed release. Something quick, hard and hot to take it out of your system. He was perfect for the task, and by the way his tongue tasted your mouth, you found out that he wouldn’t step back. At least you hoped so. The tension between both of you was so damn sharp and it was just a matter of time for that bomb to explode, and you preferred it this way instead of fighting each other to death.

Gripping the neck of his shirt to get even closer as you kissed, Butcher’s hands roamed all over your hips, running on your sides until he met the flesh of your ass on your jeans, pressing you towards his chest. You gasped against his mouth when he started to unzip your pants, you worked immediately on the buttons of his shirt. Desperately, you discharged his shirt, the fabric being followed to his pants, and he undressed you with the same eagerness until you were only panties and bra.

Butcher lifted you up from the ground, hands on your thighs as he guided you to the mattress. He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs with his big, rough hands and leaning down to lick down at your chest and rip your bra off. His action made you gasp out loud at the same time he sucked on a nipple like a starved man.

“You're a fucking beast,” you whimpered, feeling his hands peeling off your panties and leaving you completely exposed at his mercy.

You tugged at his jeans and he pulled them down along with his boxers as quickly as he could, taking out his dick with that smug smile on his stupid face. He noticed your eyes taking the sight of his half nakedness, biting your lip slightly once you focused on his hard cock pressing on your crotch. It only made you wet.

“Well, I plan to fuck you like one,” he said, grabbing the back of your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

“Show me, don’t talk- fuck!”

You let out a rather loud moan when he rubbed your clit with his fingers, playing with your entrance until he inserted a single, thick digit in your pussy. Butcher stretched you out with a finger, then slid a second one, scissoring them to reach your deepest spots as your walls clenched around his digits. You kept whimpering and moaning as he increased the thrusts of his hand.

“Bloody fuck, these are the only sounds I like coming from your mouth, luv,” he hissed, sensing that you almost came on his fingers.

Right before you reached your high, he pulled out and you groaned in annoyance, feeling empty once again.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

He positioned between your legs anew, getting comfortable as he started to push his tip against your slit. The grip of his hands on your thighs became a little harsh once he entered you slowly, the thickness of his cock splitting you open.

“What a tight cunt I always knew you’d be,” he grunted, filling you up completely and leaning down to mark your neck with his teeth.

His mouth and thrusts earned him your sweet moans as he fucked you senseless. The burning soon turned into pleasure. Your nails scratched his back while moaning incoherent words. His hands on your thighs would leave marks on your skin, but it felt so damn good. You needed a little bit of pain to remind you that you were alive, rotting for that sweet bliss only sex could give you.

Moans escaped from your throat and mingled with his deep groans and the sound of your skin against his own, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with every of his hard thrusts. You pulled him down for a wet kiss when you felt closer and closer to come undone.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasped.

Butcher increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his cock throbbing as your walls started to clench around him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, trying to catch your breath. You reached down to rub your clit. You were so close, almost there.

“If I keep fucking you like this then I might change my mind- holy fuck!”

In that moment, you came hard with a string of curses and clenching your walls around his cock. The pound of his hips increased and he fucked you through your orgasm to reach his own. You continued rubbing your clit, fingers finding the place where you two connected, meeting his cock coated with your juices when he pulled out just slightly to slam back inside again.

Butcher emptied his cum inside you, mumbling dirty words against your ear. His rhythm slowing down eventually, fucking his seed in your pussy. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and rolled by your side on the bed. Your body started to ache but in the best way possible. It was the best fuck you had in a long time. After a couple of minutes in complete silence you decided to talk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I hope you keep hating on me…”

He turned slightly to see your blank face. “Why?”

“I love hate-fucking.”

He scoffed with a smile curving on his lips. “You bet I enjoyed this too.”

Within a second, you climbed on top of him. Thighs straddling his lap as you rubbed your cunt on his soft cock.

“Second round? You can eat me out and suck your cum out of me,” you gave him a wink, rolling your hips and leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Dirty girl,” Butcher whispered on your lips. “Perhaps put your mouth into good use.”

“I like how that sounds,” you smiled back at him.

Billy Butcher taglist

@delaynew

@thesilmarillionblog

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

#billy butcher smut #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher imagines #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher the boys

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megumimania · 3 months ago

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silly little footballer!geto x wag!reader drabbleeee, this idea has been cooking up since the euros—geto plays for bayern munich #fact! 18+, smut under the cut!

thinking about soccer player!suguru who’s fave pre match ritual is his lovely wife. he gets teased by his fellow teammates and the media for being the “wife” guy in a sport that is known for cheating, crazy parties and boatloads of women and drugs.

it’s not like he cares anyway, not when he has his lovely wife that is all he could dream of and more, you are the most gorgeous and best thing that has ever happened to him and his daughters that you took on and raised as if they were your own with zero judgment.

it’s safe to say he’s smitten with you but he’s more in love with your pussy too. of course he replies as playfully as possible when journalists ask to clarify by what he means by you being his pre game ritual—not wanting to fuck up his brand of being the family man and captain of the team.

“that’s all, my wife she’s just able to get me in the right energy for the game.” he says with a chuckle, generating a chorus of ‘awwws’ from the crowd who’s ready to write an article about how he’s the ideal man for modern day football and how young men should aspire to be like him (he doesn’t share the same sentiment). whilst a billion of cameras flash in his face and journalists quickly scramble to write down what he’s saying.

if only they knew what he really meant.

his big game against dortmund is coming up tomorrow and he’s already pregaming. the girls are with the nanny leaving you and him with ample alone time together. “c’mon baby you can take it.” he says in that honeyed tone that makes your pussy clench even more as he fucks you at that rough-gentle pace you both like.

you’re already spent with your third orgasm of the night threatening to rip through you like a current as suguru keeps fucking you. “I can’t baby, i cant.” you pout as your voice grows more whiny, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. he leans over and wipes the stray tears from your face, placing gentle kisses on your cheeks.

“yes you can, sweetheart.” he croons affectionately as his hand trail down to your pussy, rubbing circles on your clit. suguru revels in your pleasure watching your eyes crinkle up and your back arch from the sheer pleasure that he alone is giving you. it gives him a slight boost knowing that only him can get you like this.

he places sloppy kisses up your jaw as he continues his unrelenting pace. you grip the hotel sheets beneath you as you feel like you’re about to explode with immense pleasure. “sugu baby, ‘m gonna—“ you aren’t even able to finish your sentence as you have your third orgasm of the night.

suguru follows through soon after, falling limp on top of you, spent yet satisfied. “you better win this game tomorrow.” you joke, moving his fallen locks away from his face so you could see him better. he grins placing a gentle kiss to your neck before meeting your gaze. “oh i will, angel.” he says with a knowing smirk, kissing you once more as you were now wrapped up in his arms.

and lo and behold he did, with the game against borussia dortmund ending with a score of 3-1 and the media dubbing you as his ‘good luck charm.’

maybe your pussy does have some magical properties after all.

#vina writes: jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #getou x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto drabble #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto x black reader #jjk geto

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jungwnies · 5 months ago

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F1 GRID | Independence Day

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @runnergirl234) : celebrating the fourth of july with your f1 boyfriend <3

୨ৎ : genre : comedic romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : fireworks??? idk... ୨ৎ : word count : 3148

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : you guys should know how much of a sucker i am when it comes to introducing someone to a different culture, this was so so so fun to write🥲

ʚ・max verstappen

max didn’t get it.

“so, you just eat a lot and blow things up?” he crossed his arms, eyes narrowing like this was some elaborate prank.

“pretty much,” you said, handing him a beer.

he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “you americans are insane.” but he cracked open the beer anyway.

the backyard was packed. the grill smoked, the table was buried under piles of burgers and hot dogs, and a guy in an eagle tank top was aggressively tong-flipping ribs like his life depended on it. kids sprinted past with sparklers, and someone had already set off a rogue firework that nearly took out a lawn chair.

max surveyed the chaos like he was analyzing a new circuit. someone shoved a hot dog into his hand, and he stared at it like it was an untested setup change.

“no cutlery?”

“no, max. just eat it.”

he sighed but took a bite anyway. chewed. nodded slightly. “not bad. bit plain.”

he grabbed the mustard and squeezed way too hard. a horrifying amount of it slopped onto the bun. he stared at it for a long moment before taking another bite. his expression didn’t change, but you could see the regret.

“this was a mistake.”

when the fireworks started, he barely reacted at first, just tilting his head to watch as red and blue bursts lit up the sky. the next one was louder, the kind that rattled your ribs. he flinched, just a little.

“bit excessive,” he muttered.

someone handed him a sparkler, and he held it like it might explode in his fingers.

“just wave it around,” you said. “it’s fun.”

max verstappen does not “wave things around for fun.” but after a few seconds, he started moving it in small, cautious circles, still frowning in deep concentration. then, like it was a matter of principle, he traced out the number 1 in the air.

of course.

you laughed. he shot you a glare. “say nothing.”

the grand finale kicked in, launching fireworks in rapid, ear-shattering bursts. max, now fully resigned to the chaos, took a long sip of his beer and gave a small nod.

“alright,” he admitted. “i kind of get it.”

another firework exploded so hard it shook the ground. he blinked.

“…still think you’re all insane, though.”

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis adjusted his bucket hat, surveying the backyard scene with an amused but slightly wary expression. smoke curled from the grill, country music blared from a bluetooth speaker, and someone was setting up a folding table for what had been described to him as “competitive beer pong.”

“you lot take this holiday seriously, huh?” he mused, sipping on an iced matcha he had brought himself.

“it’s america’s birthday,” you said.

he chuckled. “right. and what’s the game plan? burgers and blowing things up?”

“basically.”

lewis shook his head, grinning. “so, absolute carnage, then.”

he fit in better than he probably expected. within ten minutes, he was deep in conversation about plant-based grilling techniques with someone’s confused but intrigued uncle. he took over the aux at one point, replacing the country anthems with smooth r&b, nodding along as he flipped a veggie burger with the confidence of a seven-time world champion.

when someone handed him a sparkler, he twirled it effortlessly between his fingers, making little figure eights in the air. “alright, i see the appeal,” he admitted, watching the light trail behind his movements.

then came the fireworks.

lewis leaned back in his chair, watching the first one explode across the sky. his sunglasses, which he had no reason to still be wearing at night, reflected the red and blue bursts.

“these are, what… not regulated?” he asked as another one screamed into the sky.

“not really.”

he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “man, if i did this in monaco, they’d fine me and take my yacht.”

still, he looked genuinely impressed. when the grand finale hit, shaking the ground with an almost comical level of intensity, he let out a low whistle.

“alright, america,” he said, tipping his hat slightly. “you do know how to put on a show.”

just as he said it, someone behind him lit an illegal firecracker that shot sideways, barely missing a parked truck. lewis instinctively dodged, years of racing reflexes kicking in.

he stared at the scorched grass for a long moment, then slowly turned back to you.

“yeah, i’m gonna stick to silverstone celebrations.”

ʚ・george russell

george arrived looking like he had just walked out of a country club. polo tucked in, hair perfectly styled, white sneakers that had clearly never touched a patch of grass. he took a slow, deliberate look around the backyard. shirtless guys were shotgunning beers, someone was wrestling with a grill that was clearly too hot, and kids were launching bottle rockets dangerously close to a tree. he exhaled through his nose and adjusted his watch like he was mentally preparing for what was about to unfold.

"alright," he muttered to himself. "let’s see how this goes."

at first, he took the polite approach. he asked well-structured questions about barbecue techniques, nodded attentively as someone explained the art of smoking ribs, and accepted a plate of food he clearly didn’t recognize with a determined sort of curiosity.

then he saw the keg stand.

he narrowed his eyes, watching as a group of guys hoisted someone upside down, beer pouring straight from the keg into his mouth while the crowd chanted encouragement.

"what exactly is happening there?" he asked, arms crossed.

you explained. he blinked. "and people enjoy this?"

before you could answer, someone clapped a hand on his back. a very large, very enthusiastic man in an american flag tank top grinned at him. "you're up next, british boy."

george let out a small, nervous chuckle, glancing at you like he was waiting for an escape. you just grinned. "it’s tradition."

for a moment, it looked like he might back out. then something shifted in his expression. that familiar look of determination. the same way he looked before attempting an impossible overtake. he squared his shoulders, handed you his drink, and nodded once.

"alright. if i’m doing this, i’m doing it properly."

what followed was the most technically flawless keg stand anyone had ever seen. a perfect lift-off, immaculate form, and balance so steady it looked choreographed. when he landed back on the ground, he wiped his mouth, adjusted his polo, and looked around.

"was that acceptable?"

the entire backyard erupted.

by the time the fireworks started, he was fully committed. the polo had been replaced with a ridiculous red, white, and blue hat. he accepted a plate of chili cheese fries without hesitation. he was even chanting “usa! usa!” along with a group of strangers like he had been waiting his whole life for this moment.

as the grand finale filled the sky, he leaned over to you, shaking his head with a laugh. "i have to admit, you lot know how to celebrate."

then someone behind him misfired a roman candle. the fireball shot sideways, missing him by inches. he spun around, hands on his hips, eyes wide.

"right," he said, voice slightly higher than usual. "and that is where i draw the line."

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos had questions.

"wait, wait, wait," he said, holding up a hand as he surveyed the absolute chaos of the backyard. "so, today, we eat like… ten hamburgers, drink cervezas (beers), and then we throw fireworks at each other?"

"pretty much," you said, handing him a beer.

he exhaled through his nose and shook his head. "los americanos están locos, eh? (you americans are crazy, huh?)"

but he cracked open the beer anyway.

carlos adapted quickly. within ten minutes, he was fully involved in the grilling process, standing next to the guy manning the barbecue with his hands on his hips, nodding like he was strategizing a pit stop. when handed a hot dog, he examined it critically.

"where is the jamón? (ham) no chorizo? (spicy spanish sausage)" he asked, looking personally offended.

"just eat it, carlos."

he sighed dramatically but took a bite. then another. his expression didn't change, but he gave a small nod.

"okay, está bien (it's okay). but if i put aceitunas (olives) on this, it would be better."

then he saw the fireworks table. his eyes narrowed. "who is in charge of this? porque esto looks very unsafe (because this…)."

before you could respond, someone lit a firecracker that immediately fell over and shot straight across the lawn. carlos flinched, ducking like it was a rogue piece of debris from an f1 crash. his head snapped toward you.

"¡ay, madre mía! (oh my god!) this is allowed?"

you shrugged. "kind of."

his hands went to his hips again. he muttered something in spanish that you were pretty sure included words not suitable for broadcast. but by the time the real fireworks show started, carlos had finally given in.

reclining in a lawn chair, beer in hand, he watched the sky light up with red, white, and blue. he exhaled and shook his head with a small smile.

"okay," he admitted. "es un poco loco… pero me gusta. (it’s a little crazy… but i like it.)"

then, just as he said it, another rogue firework went off sideways. this one nearly took out a folding chair. carlos was on his feet in seconds.

"no, no, no! that is not normal! esto es peligroso! (this is dangerous!)"

you couldn't stop laughing as he pointed accusingly at the guy holding the lighter.

"¡hermano, tú no sabes lo que haces! (brother, you don’t know what you’re doing!) give me that thing!"

and just like that, carlos sainz was suddenly in charge of the fireworks, directing the entire show like an engineer over the radio.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was trying very hard to be polite.

it was his first fourth of july, and instead of some wild backyard rager, you had brought him to your family cookout, thinking it would be a nice, relaxed introduction to the holiday. that was your first mistake.

he had been handed a plate piled with enough food to feed a small country, your uncle had already declared him an honorary american, and your grandma had called him “such a handsome young man” at least three times. charles was handling it all with his usual charm, smiling and nodding as your family quizzed him about monaco like he was an ambassador rather than a formula 1 driver.

“you ever driven one of them nascars?” your cousin asked, chewing on a rib.

charles hesitated for half a second. “uh… no, not yet.”

“bet you’d be real good at it.”

he smiled. “i hope so.”

your cousin nodded seriously, like he had just made a groundbreaking discovery, then handed charles a sparkler. the wrong end.

charles, being charles, took it without question.

the second the lighter touched the tip, he yelped and dropped it straight onto the grass, shaking out his hand like he had just suffered a catastrophic brake failure.

“oh! merde!” he blinked at his fingers, then looked at you, eyes wide with a mix of betrayal and confusion. “it bit me.”

your cousin cackled. “man, you gotta hold the other end.”

charles gave him the most unimpressed look you had ever seen. “yes, i see that now.”

despite the initial trauma, he tried again, this time holding it the correct way. he watched the sparks flicker and pop, his expression turning thoughtful.

“this is actually nice,” he said, moving it gently through the air. he traced out a shape, pausing, then tried again. “i was trying to do my number, but i think i made a… fish?”

you leaned in. it was, indeed, a fish.

"close enough."

the fireworks started just as he got comfortable, your dad setting them off from the driveway like it was a carefully planned operation. charles leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the sky as red, white, and blue bursts lit up above.

for a moment, he was quiet, just watching. then he exhaled and smiled. “this is really beautiful.”

you were about to agree when another one went off way too close to the ground. charles flinched so hard he nearly spilled his drink, eyes darting toward the launch site.

“is it supposed to do that?”

your dad waved him off. “eh, it’s fine.”

charles did not look convinced. “i don’t think that is fine.”

another firework whistled sideways into a bush. charles shot up out of his chair.

“no, no, no—this is not normal!”

your cousin just laughed. “welcome to america, man.”

ʚ・lando norris

lando had never looked more out of his depth in his entire life.

and that included the time he got stuck on a beach in monaco.

you had brought him to your university’s fourth of july party, thinking it would be a fun, casual experience. that was your second mistake. your first mistake was underestimating how unhinged your friends were.

“okay, so let me get this straight,” lando said, standing in the middle of a backyard that looked like it had already survived three different safety car restarts. “you guys drink an obscene amount of alcohol, eat way too much food, and then you—what? just set things on fire?”

“yeah, pretty much.”

he blinked. “that’s mad.”

and yet, here he was, already double-fisting a beer and a plate of nachos, blending in like he had been here all semester.

the night started off fine. he played beer pong, overthought his technique, lost anyway, and then blamed the table for being “not regulation size.” he had his first ever corn dog, called it “weird but kinda amazing,” and then proceeded to eat three more. he even wore a ridiculous red, white, and blue cowboy hat that one of your friends had aggressively placed on his head.

everything was going smoothly. then someone handed him a roman candle.

“wait, what am i supposed to do with this?” he asked, inspecting the long tube like it was an unfamiliar steering wheel.

“just hold it and point it up,” you said, already realizing this was a mistake.

your friend lit it, and lando immediately panicked.

“oh my god, it’s on fire—IT’S ON FIRE.”

“yes, lando, that’s the point.”

“I DON’T LIKE IT.”

“JUST HOLD IT STILL.”

“I CAN’T.”

the first fireball shot out, straight up into the air. the second one did not.

instead, it veered at a slightly concerning angle, skimming past the roof of the house and nearly taking out a string of decorative lights. lando let out a full-on shriek, dropped the roman candle, and sprinted five steps away like the thing had personally offended him.

the candle, now abandoned, continued shooting rogue fireballs across the yard. your friends scattered. someone dove behind a cooler. one of your more chaotic friends cheered. lando, meanwhile, had his hands on his head, looking like he had just witnessed an absolute strategy disaster.

“oh my god,” he wheezed. “i almost died.”

“you did not almost die.”

“that was the most unsafe thing i’ve ever done, and i race at 200 miles per hour for a living!”

despite the near-death experience, lando stuck around. mostly because someone handed him another beer, and he was too emotionally drained to do anything but drink it. when the actual fireworks started, he stayed a healthy distance away, sipping his drink and shaking his head every time one exploded a little too close to the ground.

by the end of the night, he had recovered enough to join in on the chanting. he even put the cowboy hat back on.

“alright,” he admitted, exhaling. “that was actually kinda fun.”

then someone suggested doing sparklers. lando immediately held up both hands.

“no. absolutely not. i’ve learned my lesson. you lot are psychos.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

oscar piastri was trying his best.

you had invited him to your family’s fourth of july cookout, reassuring him it would be a relaxed evening with good food, nice company, and minimal chaos. that had been a lie.

now he was sitting on the porch, gripping a lemonade like it was a contract extension, watching your uncle aggressively flip burgers on the grill while your little cousins ran barefoot through the yard with sparklers. someone had already spilled an entire bowl of potato salad, your aunt was yelling at your dad about lighter fluid, and a bluetooth speaker was blasting country music at a volume that should have been illegal.

oscar took a slow sip of his drink. “so this is normal?”

you nodded. “completely normal.”

“right,” he said, nodding slightly. “that’s concerning.”

to his credit, he was doing his best to fit in. he helped carry the extra chairs outside, listened to your grandpa tell a very long-winded story about how “kids these days don’t know how to drive,” and politely answered every single person who asked if he knew daniel ricciardo.

he even attempted a game of cornhole. it did not go well.

“mate, you’ve got to actually aim,” your cousin said as oscar’s beanbag completely missed the board.

“i am aiming.”

“then why does it look like you’re throwing a penalty kick?”

oscar’s next toss went even further off course. he turned to you, deadpan. “i don’t like this game.”

the real trouble started when your little cousin, clearly taking advantage of his foreign guest status, decided to hand oscar a firework. not a sparkler. not a small fountain. a full-blown roman candle.

oscar held it with both hands, staring at it like it was an unexploded bomb. “am i being set up?”

“just light it and hold it up,” your cousin said.

oscar frowned. “that sounds fake, but okay.”

he did as he was told, but the second the first fireball shot out, he visibly tensed, gripping the firework like he was on the final lap in monaco. another fireball launched, and he let out a quiet but very real “oh no.”

“it’s fine,” you reassured him.

“it doesn’t feel fine,” he said, carefully adjusting his stance like he was bracing for impact. “how long does this last?”

“maybe ten more shots.”

oscar sighed. “great. love that for me.”

when the roman candle finally fizzled out, he let out the slowest exhale of his life and handed it back like he had just completed a dangerous mission.

“alright,” he said. “i have now contributed to the chaos. that should fulfill my american initiation, yes?”

the night ended with fireworks, which oscar watched from what he clearly deemed the safest possible location—standing just inside the house, one foot over the threshold in case he needed to make a quick exit.

when someone asked if he had fun, he paused for a moment, considering his answer.

“well,” he said, taking another sip of lemonade. “i still have all my fingers. so i’d call that a success.”

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v1sexual · 7 months ago

Note

another actor au where reader gets injured on set and ofc the others being worried af ☹️ (vi and caitlyn being the most worried 🫶)

sticks and stones ; caitvi x reader

note : omg my first ask yay! anyways, i just wanted to say how much i love this omg. just imagine, caitvi fussing over you, giving you the princess treatment *explodes* this is lowkey poorly written tho, it's my first time writing with two love interests. i mean i could have made it platonic but where's the fun in that.

content warning : blood, minor injuries, swearing,

“cut! get the medics in here right now!”

you had no idea how this happened. a second ago, you were literally in the middle of acting a scene out with ekko in the firelight hideout. next thing you know, you twisted an ankle and fell 10-15 feet to the ground. thankfully, the leaves and branches from the tree (of the firelight hideout) broke your fall, leaving you with a few scrapes, bruises, and possibly a broken ankle.

when vi saw your body hit the cold hard floor she bolted, shouting for someone to get any medical professionals on the set. it took cait a couple of seconds to register what just happened, when it finally dawned on her she immediately followed vi. if people didn’t take notice that something was going on between the three of you, well… they’d probably notice it now. vi kneeled beside you, her hands cupped your cheek gently as she checked your head for any injury. thankfully, you only had a couple of cuts on your cheek and nothing too serious (you also may or may not have a small bump on your head that can be taken care of with some nice cold compress).

“is she okay?” cait exclaimed, she was out of breath and was ready to dial 911. before vi could answer, the medical team finally arrived. they ushered cait, vi, and your cast mates away as they loaded you on the stretcher and into the make-shift clinic tent on set.

it’s been almost an hour since vi and cait camped out of the tent. the two were practically about to explode, they were just so worried about you. the fact that it’s been an hour and still no news about you and how you’re doing concerns them. when the doctor examining you finally exited the tent (and quite literally almost bumped into them), they wasted no time bombarding the doctor about your condition.

“she’s doing fine ladies,” the doctor smiled. “just a couple of scratches, a bruise here and there, and a sprained ankle.”

vi’s face fell and cait was practically chewing nails.

“how long will it take for her to recover?’ cait asked worriedly.

the doctor gave her shoulder a pat, “it’ll take two to three weeks for the ankle to heal. then another week for her to get used to walking on it again.”

“how should we treat the ankle? does it need cold or hard compress?” vi demanded, poor girl was stressing the fuck out.

“use a cold compress for a week or until the swelling has gone down, then hot compress to help with blood flow. elevating the sprained ankle helps minimize the pain as well.” the doctor added before heading out, leaving the two girls to enter the tent.

watching the scene unfold was ekko and powder. they hung out beside a food truck next to the medical tent, fully overhearing the conversation that just unfold. “i sure hope (name)’s doing alright.” powder murmured, resting her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. ekko nodded in response, “i sure hope so. i imagine dealing with those too will be much more painful than dealing with the sprain.”

powder let’s out a laugh and shook her head. “ekko! that’s so mean.”

“it’s true though,” ekko shrugged then rested his head on powder’s. “i swear, those three have a weird relationship.’

“we listen, we don’t judge ekko.”

when the doctor left the tent to give you some privacy, you almost burst into tears. the cuts didn’t hurt, the bruises didn’t hurt, and the sprain was bearable. it’s the fact that filming will have to be pushed back a bit due to your sprain. you wouldn’t be able to stand on that foot at all until it heals, the doctor already made a note that you need at least a month and a half to fully recover. the director and producers weren’t pleased, but they did understand and didn’t want to push you since you are one of the most hardworking actors on set.

the tent flap rustled open, pulling you away from your thoughts. caitlyn and vi entered the tent, both had worried looks on their faces. they sat on opposite sides of the stretcher where you laid.

"how are you feeling?" cait asked, taking your hand and holding it. you sighed and shrugged. you didn't want to talk, especially to vi and caitlyn. you just know that the moment you open your mouth the dam will break, you already feel sorry for yourself and crying will make it worse.

"cupcake," vi said as she cupped your face in her hand. she tilted your head to look at her. "you know you can tell us anything right?"

you closed your eyes as you leaned into vi's touch, your hand gripping caitlyn's a little bit tighter. "i just- if i talk about it i'll cry and it'll make feel worse." your voice sounded so small and hurt, it made cait and vi's heart ache.

cait pressed a kiss to your hand, "if you don't want to talk we won't force you, but you need to let it all out eventually. bottling your feelings isn't healthy at all." vi nods in agreement, she squeezed your cheeks before bending down to press a kiss on your forehead. "if you need to cry, cry. you have our shoulders to cry on, cupcake."

you closed your eyes and let the tears fall.

caitlyn and vi stayed true to their words, they comforted you and stayed in the tent until they were kicked out by the producers. when you were finally alone, a smile adorned your lips. your girlfriends were right, letting it all out did make you feel ten times better.

after today's shooting was done, caitlyn and vi took you home. cait went ahead and started cooking dinner while vi carried you to your room, making sure your foot was elevated. for the next month and a half, they barely left your side (unless they were needed for filming). they never let you do anything, you were basically confined to your room. as much as you hated being useless, your protests were ignored by cait and vi. it didn't matter though, at least you're ankle is almost healed and being babied by your girlfriends felt good anyways.

note : well that sucked LMAOOOO sorry anon

#vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #arcane #arcane act three #vi arcane #jinx arcane #arcane smut #violet arcane #caitlyn kiramman #arcane season 2 #caitlyn arcane #caitvi #caitlyn x reader #vi x caitlyn #caitvi x reader #wlw yearning #wlw post #wlw x reader #wlw blog

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒐 !

- gojo satoru x reader

valentine's is around the corner and word has it that you're going on a date with geto...? no way! gojo is going to make sure that you're saying no! ever wonder how gojo finally gets you to become his? be prepared for a confession of a lifetime!

genre/warnings. crack, semi-failed love confession (it's gojo, what do you expect?), poor geto, and of course, fluff !!

notes. i genuinely love writing this :') loser gojo has always have a soft spot in my heart *sighs* i'd recommend listening to beautiful & because of you - beast (highlight) for this !!

a part of gojo's love entries and valentine's special !

Satoru doesn't really pay attention to holidays. To him, it's all the same—he can turn everyday into a holiday if he wanted to.

However, Valentine's Day is an exception. He knows it and is somewhat excited even. Why, you ask? Because this is the moment he has chosen. He's going to make you his on that very day.

He had everything planned out to perfection: skylit rooftop, bouquet of roses, eloquent speech (at least, he thought so). He was going to charm the pants out of you and it'd be a smooth-sailing event, he was sure of it!

At least until he heard that life-shattering gossip—

"I saw Geto-san asking her out for the 14th just now!"

"What?" he snapped his head in Haibara's direction, who was eagerly sharing with him and the others what he had allegedly heard, his eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

"Ehh, not bad," Shoko mused with a hint of amusement, casting a curious look his way. It was obvious she was enjoying this.

Nanami let out a thoughtful hum. "That's quite a surprise. I didn't think they'll go that fast."

"But how?!" Satoru suddenly exploded, grabbing Haibara by the collar. "How did that slimy bangs go from saying nothing to asking her out?!"

"O-oh Gojo-san! Don't squish me, please!"

And from then onwards, his focus was set: preventing you from falling into Suguru's grimy hands. Absolutely no way! He was so close already. He was on the cusp of winning your heart, and he knew it!

Now, you laughed at his jokes, you didn't ignore him as much, and you even asked him if he was okay after his recent mission! That was huge progress, even Satoru knew as much. And no, even if it was Suguru, he refused to hand you over to him.

On the 14th, you were going to be his... even if it cost him everything!

Gojo Satoru is annoying. You supposed you knew that already, but over these past few days, his ability to get on your nerves somehow had ascended to a wholly new level.

"I'm telling you, you should go with me! I'm going to take you somewhere amazing!" he practically demanded right up in your space, prompting you to let out a long-drawn sigh.

By all means, his attempts to woo you were all lame. He didn't know the first thing about being humble, and logically, you should have been more inclined to push him away.

‘Should’ being the operative word, because, somehow, over the past few weeks, you've started to see his antics as not just bearable but even endearing in a way. No one had ever pursued you with such relentless zeal before him, and it became increasingly difficult to overlook the way your heart fluttered in response to his (occasionally dubious) attempts to win you over.

So, right now, it really wasn't because you were playing hard to get. "Gojo, I've told you already. I can't on that day, I've already got plans," you sighed, exasperated.

He shot you a glance, his expression shifting into a brazenly raised eyebrow. "With Suguru?"

"How do you—"

"Tell him no," Satoru pressed, scowling. "Tell him I asked you first."

"In fact, he asked first—"

“Just say no!”

“No!”

"You're seriously going on a date with him?" he questioned, almost in disbelief. "And what, you're going to confess to him too?"

His tone didn't sit well with you, causing your irritation to rise. You frowned and retorted boldly, "And if I do? It's not like you can do anything about it anyway."

Wait, that actually hurts. Satoru was now irked too. Hadn't he shown enough for you to understand just how much of a big deal it was for him? Didn't you know he actually likes you so much that it made him toss and turn on some nights?

(No, you didn't really know. He just made himself look stupid most of the time. You were not that impressed.)

"As a matter of fact, I can," he began, expression turning into a slight sneer. "I can and I will if you still insist on going with him."

"Wha?"

"I'm going to crash your party so hard, you'll wish you hadn't gone behind my back. The audacity he has, trying to steal my girl!"

"You sound like a creep," you couldn't help blurting out, wide-eyed. "And I'm not your girl—"

"You—are quite heartless." His gaze on you behind that glasses hardened, and you were suddenly taken aback by how upset he looked. "I'm giving you my all—I think about you all day and night I think it's actually making me crazy!"

You stared at him, genuinely dumbfounded this time, realizing that somehow or another now, he was pouring his emotions out.

"Nothing I say will make sense to you, but whatever—" he exhaled sharply in frustration. "It's always you—in my mind. Compared to anyone else now, you're the prettiest. And if you were to ask me to pull a Blue on Ichiji right now, I'd probably do it! You see now—what you have done to me?"

"Ichiji? Gojo—!"

"You might think I did all of this for your attention, and yes, you’re right! That's how much you've messed with my head!"

. . .

Oh, now he had really gone and done it, hadn't he? He had laid it all bare, every last bit of it—the chaotic heap stacking up as his botched confession. And there were no roses, no rooftop, and none of the grandeur he had envisioned. This was so not how he wanted it to go at all.

Satoru grimaced, suddenly regretting this turn of events. He had seen it coming already—you calling him a total weirdo and then leaving him in the dust. Just the thought was enough to make his heart squeeze. Wanting to escape before it became a reality, he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away from you.

He barely made it a few steps away before he felt a firm tug on his arm.

"Wait! Gojo!"

You grabbed his arm tightly, forcing him to turn towards you. Satoru stubbornly refused to meet your gaze, his lips pressed into a massive pout. Yet, beyond that display of defiance, you could discern a hint of heartbreak splashed across his face, and it made your stomach churn.

Always trying to make you look at him. Always trying to get you to smile through his lame jokes. Making himself stupid on purpose. Frustrated when his feelings went unnoticed… All Gojo Satoru did thus far finally added up.

So it's true... he likes me this much...?

In that moment, warmth flooded through you. This idiot. Everyone said he was no good, but your heart couldn't help but leap, and a flurry of butterflies seemed to dance in your stomach.

In this instant, everything seemed to fall into place. Any doubt you might have melted away, leaving only a sense of certainty about your feelings. Everything just feels absolutely right.

"I'm not going on a date with Geto, you know."

"Huh?" Upon hearing that, he swiveled to face you, his gaze intensively searching your face for further explanation.

With a huff, you elaborated, "It's for my Grade One promotion mission. Geto-san asked to join me for it."

"But why? He doesn't need to—"

"He wants to tag along to absorb more cursed spirits, you see..."

"Oh, amassing new little friends, I see," Satoru quipped, face scrunching up distastefully.

His mood seems better now, you noted. You exhaled, your heart suddenly felt like it was pounding louder. "So, you've got the wrong idea. It sucks but my Valentine's day is going to be spent on a mission."

A beat passed by before he finally spoke again, still sheepish and avoiding eye contact. "I'm coming with you too, for that... mission or whatever."

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your face. "And?"

"And... huh?"

"That's all? Nothing else you want to add?"

And suddenly his eyes sparkled back to life. Beyond those ridiculous round glasses, his bright, yet steadfast eyes met yours with such vibrant shine it made your chest thump so hard and face flush with matching intensity.

Silly, silly boy... liking me so much that he turns stupid.

"Actually, I've got plenty more to say!"

With an indignant snort, you released his arm. "Well, I'm waiting. Because what you just said before has to be the most underwhelming confession I've ever heard."

"Wha? Hey! That wasn't my confession! Just you wait, I'll do it over, and this time, I'll make you swoon so hard you'll forget how Suguru's face looks like!"

And on the night of February 14, he truly surpassed himself once again in making a terrible confession, and yet it still signified the day you truly became his—the beginning of your life together, which along the way, would be filled with more shenanigans, endless laughter and of course, love.

Epilogue

"Haibara, I really thought you're the most sensible here! I can't believe you!"

Suguru massaged his temples with utter grievance. So this was the cause of his headache and constant death stares Satoru gave him these past few days—the three people gathering in front of him!

"I've told you already, Nanami—Gojo is really going through with it," Shoko cackled with utter satisfaction. "Now, pay up."

"Ieiri-san... sigh— from now on, I'm not participating in your bets anymore."

Haibara, who went with Shoko's suggestion to incite this, sheepishly laughed. "Ehe, Geto-san, all that ends well is well though, no?"

"Satoru was really about to skin me alive! Ugh, and you almost ruined my date too..."

"Eh? Date?" All three sets of eyes suddenly fixed on him in utter astonishment. "Who?"

-> continue to 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 (with geto suguru—soon!)

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lukolathoughts · 5 days ago

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McGuffin or Chekhov's smokin' gun?

During my old university days, I studied Media as part of my Drama degree. I was interested in film at the time, until they made us all sit through 2001 Space Odyssey. Absolute torture. Anyway, we studied a whole lot of Hitchcock also. I learned a great deal about the auteur, the male gaze and the 'McGuffin'. Stick with me reader, I am going somewhere I promise. In fiction, a MacGuffin (sometimes McGuffin) is an object, device, or event that is necessary to the plot and the motivation of the characters, but insignificant, unimportant, or irrelevant in itself. (Wikipedia) For example, in Pyscho the lead female character Marion Crane turns up to Bates Motel with a suitcase full of stolen cash. It ends up being irrelevant because that is not the main plot. Marion (spoiler) is stabbed to death by Norman Bates and the suitcase of money ends up in the lake with her car. That is her story over. A modern day McGuffin in my mind would be Dennis Nedry stealing dino DNA in Jurassic Park using a can of aftershave cream. The plot point is irrelevant, even though it causes the fences to shut down and chaos to ensue, the can is lost as Dennis is eaten by a Dilophosaurus and that is the end of that. The main narrative is elsewhere.

In university, I was fascinated with Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill. As a Buffy fan, I was almost ecstatic with joy to see another badass female lead slice her way to revenge and justice wearing a yellow, leather jump suit. It is an incredibly gory film, but I see it as a masterpiece of cinema. This is where I was made aware of the term - Chekhov's gun. "is a narrative principle emphasizing that every element in a story be necessary, while irrelevant elements should be removed. For example, if a gun features in a story, there must be a reason for it, such as being fired at some later point." Usually in film, the director will make a point of showing the object/device and it will come up repeatedly or later. In Kill Bill, there is The Bride's sword which is made and then shown later with her lopping off a hundred or so heads. In Kill Bill part 2, in a flashback to years earlier, Bill tells the young Bride of the legendary martial arts master Pai Mei and his Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique, a death blow that Pai refuses to teach his students; properly used, the attack is reputed to leave an opponent able to take only five steps before dying. This is how (major spoiler) The Bride defeats Bill in the end. She was shown by Pai Mei. I could go on and on about how these devices are used in cinema and television, but you will be aware of them. In Bridgerton, we can see that Penelope's feather quills are Chevhov's gun, because they are representative of a secret that she is keeping that has indirectly and directly affected so many people. Lady Whistledown has massive plot implications.

So, ZG where are you going with this blog post? I have struggled with keeping my mouth shut these last few months and running things through in my mind. It is easier to just chat in my discord and much less hassle, but it also grinds my gears that us Lukola's feel the need to be underground. I want to be a voice of reason for the fandom and not be stifled. A few days ago, I was made aware of a picture. This picture had my eyes widening and my heart thudding, because it was confirmation to me that what I had suspected and read in my cards, was absolutely right. I have struggled in the past with even writing this down, because people get so mad. I am a mother of four. I have actually had six pregnancies. I have dealt with early miscarriage, gestational diabetes, premature labour the lot. I am an experienced mother now of many years and I recognise another mother when I see one. I do not take pregnancy and childbirth lightly. I know what I saw last year from Nicola and I stand by that. This has NOTHING to do with fat shaming or commenting on Nicola's body, which I NEVER have.

It is now up to the story narrative to play out and for us as an audience to find out whether the buggy/stroller in the picture that Nicola is pushing, is a McGuffin - irrelevant. I saw someone say it might be a doggy stroller. Sigh, sure Jan. Or she could be pushing her sister's baby around Dublin. It is possible, but why are all her friends there that particular weekend? Where is her sister? Why is Aimee there? Why was Louisa tagged in the photo? What was so special about that weekend? We have worked out from Louisa's clothes that the weekend was most likely the 5th April. Jake shared a photo with Louisa in a pub that Saturday and the clothes match. I will come back to Jake in a moment.

Or is the stroller Chekhov's gun? A massive plot point and integral to this whole damn narrative and why my friends, we have been dragged along on this bumpy ship navigating an endless storm, that has included missiles, hurricanes, a great white shark, shelves, anchovies, tiramisu etc. My question from a few blogs ago was, what are Nicola and Luke hiding in the attic? In my opinion, it is the stroller. As I said on X yesterday, if you see the picture but refuse to acknowledge at least the possibility of what that stroller means, then that's on you if a harsh truth is ever revealed.

The Jakeholes have been quiet about this. It almost makes me giggle. Nicola liked that post, so she is absolutely aware of it. It has been sitting on Instagram for two weeks literally like a smoking gun undetected until the Lukola FBI finally dug it up. Lets face facts here. Jakey boy was filming from April - June last year in Wales and Nottingham for What it feels like for a girl (I loved it by the way! It weas excellent). Nicola was on a massive six month press tour with her co-star Luke Newton. We all saw the way they looked at each other in Brazil. We are not blind or stupid. We don't have amnesia either. I can look at the live footage at a touch of a button. Us Lukola's do not have to manipulate footage of Jake from WIFLFAG, where he plays a male prostitute and pimp, with footage of Nicola from Big Mood, where she plays a woman with mental health problems, and mash it together to make it look romantic. Those edits are sickening. They are also pathetic because whereas we have actual footage from Bridgerton and in real life, the Jakolas have nothing. Even Tiff couldn't make the Cannes footage look romantic. He looked like Nicola's assistant and we caught Jake making horny eyes at a man in the pre-Bafta party. My point is, Jake was not around when Nicola likely became pregnant and I will quote someone in my discord, Jake hasn't seen a vagina since he came out of one.

I believe the person in Nicola's recent post is Luke. My very dear friend @pikanchidouble-blog has done excellent analysis on this over the weekend of the ear and thumb and I absolutely think it's Luke. If it was Jake, why not tag him? She's not been shy about tagging him before. The sweet treat is also Luke coded and the fact he loves Italian food. Jake is also at the moment busy shooting a film. Nicola has better things to do than sit alone in a hotel all day in Australia alone, waiting for him.

We are yet again back to waiting game. If that was Luke in the selfie, Nicola has made a massive step forward in showing an aspect of him. She has made strides in showing the stroller also. I love Nicola for this. There must be a reason that she has decided to show us this. It has to be part of the larger story.

So do we have a McGuffin on our hands, or Chekhov's gun? You decide. We wait.

PS. Love you all xx

#lukola #nicluke #luke newton #nicola coughlan

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banananutmuffin28 · 6 months ago

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Don't Go (I'll Stop You Before You Do)

Pairing: Se-mi x GN! Reader | Player 380 x GN! Reader

Synopsis: There's a glint of steel in the far right corner. The lights flicker on and off, but you manage to catch a glimpse of Se-Mi's face as hands wrap around her throat, as the weapon sinks into her skin.

She screams, and you run.

A/N: I wrote this on a whim! So sorry if my writing is a little subpar here, I was SO eager to get it out! I tried my best, though! (I love Se-Mi so much it hurts).

A man twice your size walks up to you, his face twisted into a ghoulish smile. You take a step back, eyes trained on the fork in his tight fists.

You try not to focus on the blood that oozed from the tip.

The lights flicker on for just a split second, illuminating his bared, yellow teeth.

He was a large, brawny thing. Muscles bulged from his bloody tracker, and he had to bend over slightly to meet your gaze. His hair was slicken with sweat--he was covered in it, really. It trailed down his veiny neck, past a tattoo of a design you couldn't quite make out, and fell onto your shoulder.

You bit back a scream.

He leaned back, amused at your expression. He didn't seem to care about the contestants fighting behind him, rather, it seemed as if he relished in it.

Lazily, he tapped the tag taped to your tracker.

"You really shouldn't have picked X if you didn't want to get hurt," He drawled. "In fact..."

The man stepped back, and continued talking, though you soon drowned out his words. Instead. you flickered your eyes around you, trying to devise a plan to escape his clutch. You couldn't stay here. You had to make sure that she's okay. You had to-

Pain exploded in your cheek.

With a gasp, you scramble backward, wincing when your back collided with the cold steel wall. Hot, sharp pain stung your right cheek and tears pooled in the corners of your eyes.

The man leaned in, trailing his fork on your neck.

"You listen to me when I talk to you, you hear?"

Hate broiled within you, and your face curled into a sneer. You shift your body to the side, hands pushing his fork back as you knee him in the crotch.

"Go fuck yourself."

The man howled, his legs buckling beneath him. He ripped his hand away from your grasp and swung his fork around wildly.

"Why you little-"

A burst of pain escaped from your shoulder, making you scream in agony. The man wedged the weapon deeper into your flesh, twisting and turning until you collapsed onto the floor.

Meaty fists plummeted against your skull again and again, each new crunch spiraling you further and further into the depths of unconsciousness.

Desperately, you roll to the side and begin wrenching the fork from his hands, fighting to keep your eyes open.

This was your only chance. You couldn't overpower him, and you can't let yourself die while Se-Mi's fate was still left unknown. You had to go to her no matter what.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but you slammed your head against his before any words could escape.

His grip loosened ever so slightly, letting you pry the fork from his hands.

Quickly, you begin stabbing the weapon into his neck, his face--anywhere that looked important.

Soon, blood was pouring from his wounds and his movements grew sluggish. The metallic liquid permeated every one of your senses, and you were afraid it would brand itself into your very soul. With a final stab, the man fell to the floor and didn't get back up. You let out a shaky sigh and crawled away from the man.

Fearfully, you looked around.

Everything felt like it was...more muted, as if you were merely a fish watching the chaos unfold from below. Your head hurt like hell, and each breath you took didn't seem to give quite as much air as it should. The wound in your shoulder was something else entirely, choosing to make itself known with every little movement you made.

Quickly, you tear a piece of cloth from the limp man and wrapped it around the wound.

Like hell were you going to bleed out now.

You look around the room, gripping the utensil with so much force that you were surprised it didn't crumble in your hands.

Where the fuck is Se-Mi?

You let out a breath and scrambled in the direction of her bunk. You supposed you were somewhat fortunate that the man ambushed you in bed, as you didn't need as much sight to devise where she was.

The further you ran, the harder fear gripped your heart. Fallen bodies lay strewn across the floor, accompanying equally as many splotches of blood.

What if one of them is her?

You shove that thought to the furthest corner of your mind.

No, Se-Mi was one of the strongest women you knew. She wouldn't let someone kill her so easily. And, she had Min-Su to protect her!

Right?

When you reached her corner of the bunk beds, you looked around wildly.

Men and women alike grappled against each other, too busy in their own fights to pay you any mind. An elderly man was clubbing his opponent with a metal pipe, a woman was slamming her own against the floor, while another group entirely cornered a lone contestant.

"Se-Mi!" You scream, loud enough to make your sore vocal cords hate you. "Where the hell are you?"

There was no answer.

"Fuck, Se-Mi, please!" You yell.

Suddenly, it was getting harder to breathe, to see. You didn't know if it was due to the lack of blood or the stupid flighty panic pounding in your chest, but whatever it was it was sapping the strength away from your legs and rendering your ability to stand upright near impossible.

A flash of Se-Mi's bloody face appeared in your mind, almost mockingly. Above her stood Thanos and his lackey, drenched in her blood and grinning from ear to ear.

No, no, no-

You can't let that happen. You won't.

Se-Mi was the only light you still hand in this damned tunnel of the world. You couldn't fail her, not now.

You had to-

And, just then, you hear something that makes your heart drop.

It was your name, whispered oh so softly that you were afraid you had imagined it. But then, you hear it again and again, and soon you were running towards the voice, uncaring of who you pushed past.

You glared into the darkness, as if your gaze could part away the dimness to reveal your beloved. If you could see just a little further, then maybe you could spot her and kill whatever bastard was hurting her.

Panting, you stop for a moment and crane your gaze to the right and-

There's a glint of steel in the far right corner. The lights flicker on and off, but you catch a glimpse of Se-Mi's face as hands wrap around her throat, as the weapon sinks into her skin.

She screams, and you run.

You run faster than you thought you were ever capable of. Your surroundings blur, the screams of the others become muffled, and in your mind it was just you, Se-Mi, and the man who was stabbing something into her jugular.

"Get off of her you asshole!" You hiss, hooking your arms around his armpits and pulling him back. In the corner of your eye, you see Se-Mi yank herself away from the (fork? glass shard? You couldn't quite tell) object and sink into the floor.

Angrily, Nam-gyu whips his head towards you and sneers. "Why, if it isn't Se-Mi's little bitch. I'm surprised you didn't come running to her aid the second I plunged that shard into her. Thought you were lying dead in a pool of blood or some shit." Hastily, he yanks your head back. "After all, you wouldn't ever abandon your master, now would you?"

"Just shut up, you asshole," You spat out, and slammed your fork onto his chest. He moved away at the last second, letting the weapon swing in the air instead.

You let out a curse as you begin to lose balance, but turn your body to the side just enough to lock his neck in your elbow. You lean against one of the pillars holding the mattresses upright and begin to squeeze, cutting his airflow.

The sight of his panicked eyes made you smirk.

"And you're one to talk," You spat out, pulling his hair to slam his head against the metal beam. "You've been following Thanos around like a lost fucking dog. I'm surprised you can make decisions without him around."

You pause, and take a quick glance around the room.

"Where the hell is he, anyway?"

There's a sharp intake of breath as Nam-gyu stills.

And then he bites your shoulder.

Swallowing back a sob, you release your hold on his neck and step backward. Whatever small blood clot that managed to form breaks, allowing the dam to break loose. Nam-gyu pushes you onto the floor, voice cracking as he kicks your ribs.

"He's fucking dead! Your side fucking killed him!"

His hands grab your collar, and he pulls you close enough for you to see the veins bulging out of his neck.

"And now, I'm going to kill you too--"

Nam-gyu doesn't get to finish his sentence.

What were once words instead turns into choked gurgles. Blood spills from his mouth, and his eyes roll back into his skull. A thick glass shard protrudes from his throat, deep enough that you knew he was a dead man walking. Another, smaller shard soon follows, spraying you with his blood.

Before long, his limp body was thrown to the side, and his filthy presence was instead replaced with a comforting one.

Se-Mi nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly. Her arms wrapped around your waist, and though your ribs and shoulder screamed in protest, you couldn't bring yourself to pull her away.

"...Thank you," She murmured, and you melted into her touch.

"It's nothing, really," You say, suddenly feeling bashful.

"No, it was everything." Se-Mi pulled away to look at you, cupping your face in her hand. "I would've died if it wasn't for you."

"What about Min-Su?" You furrow your brows, looking around. "Where is he?"

Se-Mi let out a shaky sigh, stilling in your embrace.

"It...doesn't matter."

"But it does! Why the hell would he--"

Se-Mi gently flicked your forehead, rendering your brain momentarily speechless. "Hush now," She whispered, arms bringing you close to her once more. "All that matters now is keeping you and I safe. You're bleeding."

Delicately, she rips a chunk of her tracker to use as a make-shift band-aid, tying it around your shoulder and knotting it twice. Then, she pulls you to a safe corner of the room and begins fussing over cuts you don't remember getting.

Basking in her attention, you turn your gaze to her neck and cup the wound. Though the bleeding had stopped, the size and brutality of the wound made your heart ache. It was long and ugly, like someone had taken a miniature saw and brandished it against her jugular.

Worry wormed its way into your heart.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt too much when you move?"

"I'm fine--"

"No, you are not!" Frowning, you break from her hold and press a kiss to her neck. Your gaze turns downward, noticing a gash on her leg. "You really shouldn't ignore your own needs, Se-Mi."

Protectively, you wipe the blood away from her calf and kiss her nose.

"I'm your partner, Se-Mi. We promised to protect each other, okay?"

Se-Mi smiles, and leans into your touch. She places a hand in your hair and kisses you softly. You whine and kiss her back, savoring the sweet taste of her lips.

"I know, I'm sorry" She whispers when the two of you pull away at last. "I love you."

With a smile, you intertwine your hand in hers.

"I love you too."

You didn't know what hellish nightmare would happen tomorrow, but what you knew for certain was that you would face it with her, together.

#squid game #squid game season 2 #se-mi x reader #player 380 x reader #pretty women #squid game x reader #squid game spoilers #se mi x reader #squid game fanfic #My fics

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fandomfablesunleashed · 4 months ago

Text

The Fine Line Between Teasing and TMI

Law x reader (she/her) ft. Heart Pirates

Part of the Polar Tang Chronicles but can be read as a standalone! (They're all just various one-shots featuring the Reader, Law, and the Heart Pirates)

Summary: Both you and Law find yourselves at the center of the crew’s relentless amusement—much to your embarrassment (honestly didn't know what to put here)

Tags: teasing, suggestive, swearing.

Words: 1.9k

Notes: You can thank the Infinity Nikki devs for putting the game under maintenance today, forcing me to change my evening plans and, in turn, turn to writing. I started off working on Tangled Lives, but I got stuck somewhere along the way and needed to move to something lighter. So enjoy this lighthearted and suggestive (I don’t know why they all turn out this way, but oops) short story from Polar Tang Chronicles (I already have a little for another one of these).

English is not my first language

Masterlist

The common room of the Polar Tang was filled with the conversation and laughter as the Heart Pirates enjoyed a rare moment of relaxation. Shachi leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs, while Penguin absentmindedly flipped a coin between his fingers. Bepo sat cross-legged on the floor, sipping a warm drink.

“I’m telling you, it was at least twice the size of the last one we saw,” Shachi insisted, gesturing dramatically.

Penguin rolled his eyes. “You always exaggerate. That Sea King was big, sure, but not that big.”

Bepo tilted his head. “What are you guys talking about?”

“The Sea King we saw last week,” you explained, chuckling. “Shachi swears it could’ve swallowed the whole ship.”

“And I stand by that!” Shachi huffed, pointing a finger at you. “You were there, right? Back me up on this.”

You smirked, tapping a finger against your chin as if considering. “Hmm… I did see it, but I don’t know. It wasn’t that big.”

That earned a snort from Ikkaku, making every head in the room snap toward her. She just grinned, that mischievous look of hers. “You better never say something like that to the Captain.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as the crew reveled in the joke.

Almost on cue, the door creaked open, and the laughter died almost instantly.

Law stepped in, his steps heavy and his shoulders slouched, exhaustion written across his face. The lighting highlighted the faint shadows under his eyes.

“Captain, you should rest,” Bepo said, his furry face scrunching with concern as he slumped forward, ears twitching. His voice was soft but insistent, clearly worried about Law’s state.

“Yeah, you look awful,” Shachi quipped, crossing his arms and flashing a teasing grin.

Penguin’s eyes narrowed playfully as he joined in, his lips curling into a smirk. “Captain, you look older than you are.”

Law exhaled slowly, clearly debating whether dealing with his crew’s antics was worth it. But before he could decide, you spoke up.

“Oh, come on, guys. He looks 26.”

Law’s lips twitched into a faint, grateful smile at your words. “Thank you,” he said, his voice a little hoarse but sincere.

Of course, you couldn’t leave it at that. You let a mischievous glint dance in your eyes before adding, “Twenty-six minutes away from dying, though.”

Laughter exploded around the room once again at your unexpected quip. Even Law, despite himself, let out a small exhale that was almost a chuckle. “Fuck you,” he muttered jokingly.

The moment was light, easy—until it wasn’t.

Before you could think it through, the words tumbled out: “Maybe after you take a nap.”

The crew exchanged glances, wide-eyed, some trying to stifle knowing smirks while others just gawked outright.

Your stomach flipped. Shit.

Heat rushed to your face as you cringed inwardly, realizing the unspoken boundary you’d just crossed. Everyone knew about your relationship with Law, but it was never something that was openly discussed—especially not like this. Until now.

The silence dragged on uncomfortably before Law finally shook his head, his blank stare meeting yours as he rubbed a hand down his face. Without saying a word, he turned and walked out of the room.

The crew remained rooted in place, their expressions ranging from shock to barely contained amusement. It was Shachi who broke the silence first, his grin as wide as ever.

“Looks like someone needs a nap for more reasons than one,” he quipped.

Penguin snickered, nudging Shachi with his elbow. “Yeah, that’ll either give him nightmares or some very interesting dreams.”

You groaned aloud, covering your face with your hands as if somehow, by sheer force of will, you could erase the last minutes from existence. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud in front of all of you. I wasn’t thinking, it just slipped out.” You muttered, your voice muffled behind your palms.

“Don’t worry about it. We all knew anyway,” Ikkaku said, attempting to ease your embarrassment.

Clione leaned back in his chair, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, but we didn’t need such a vivid confirmation,” he teased.

Shachi, meanwhile, had completely lost it, laughing so hard he slapped his knee. “Oh, it was just too good. You should’ve seen the look on your face when you realized what you said!”

You shot him a glare, but it lacked any real heat. The truth was, you had felt the exact moment your soul left your body. With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands and leveled them both with a deadpan stare.

“Thanks,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “I feel so much better now.”

Bepo stepped in this time. “Just give the Captain some time to process it. He’ll come around. He’s just a bit… awkward about these things. Wants to keep it all private.”

Penguin snorted, nodding in agreement. “Awkward is an understatement.”

You winced, recalling Law’s particular brand of awkwardness.

“Don’t remind me,” you grumbled, rubbing your temples. “I’m the one who has to deal with him in private��” You froze mid-sentence, realization crashing into you.

Silence.

Then—

“Ohoho, private Law?” Shachi echoed, his grin practically splitting his face. “Now that’s an interesting topic.”

“And that’s another comment I should probably keep to myself,” you mumbled, burying your face in your hands once more.

Ikakku raised a hand, cutting off further teasing. “Alright, that’s enough, guys. Let’s not make her any more uncomfortable than she already is.”

Penguin held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. We’ll lay off for now.” Then, with a pointed look, he added, “But that doesn’t mean we won’t ever tease him.”

“Oh, we’re definitely saving those gems for another day,” Shachi added, still grinning like a madman.

“You guys are the worst,” you told them, pushing yourself up from your seat.

Shachi grinned. “Oh, come on, you love us.”

You ignored him. “I’m gonna go find Law and apologize for that comment before he decides to throw me overboard.”

Shachi couldn’t resist one last jab. “Just don’t get too distracted when you two are alone.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your flustered state. “Don’t worry about us. You guys just focus on—” you gestured vaguely at them, “—whatever it is you idiots do when left unsupervised.”

Penguin gave you a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Captain’s lady. We’ll do our best to keep the chaos to a minimum.”

The crew chuckled as you left the common room, your mind already racing as you braced yourself for the awkward conversation ahead.

After giving yourself time to mentally prepare—and hoping Law had actually gotten some rest—you found yourself standing outside his door. You took a deep breath, rolling your shoulders before knocking lightly. When there was no immediate response, you cautiously pushed the door open.

Law was lying in bed, one arm draped over his forehead, but he looked noticeably better than before. His usual tension had eased, and the dark circles under his eyes had faded slightly.

“Feeling any better?” you asked softly.

He let out a quiet grunt in response—his version of yes. His fingers tapped idly against the sheets.

You offered him a small, reassuring smile. “You look better.”

A faint twitch tugged at the corner of Law’s lips, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Not like I’m about to die?” he teased.

You chuckled as you stepped closer. “No, definitely not.”

Shifting your tone to something more earnest, you continued, “I’m sorry for my comment earlier. Not the first one, though. Honestly, I thought it was hilarious, and I’m still a little proud of it,” you said, grinning with a playful spark in your eyes. “But the other one… I blurted it out without thinking, forgetting the crew was listening.”

“It’s fine.” His hand lifted in a dismissive wave. “It’s not like they don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors. They’re not children.”

“Then why do they sometimes act like they’re five?”

“Good question,” he laughed.

Without giving it another thought, you kicked off your shoes and laid down next to him. You leaned into him, pressing your body against his side. He instinctively wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer.

“They’re a bunch of idiots,” he murmured.

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “They may be idiots, but they’re your idiots.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against your back. You snuggled even more, letting the warmth of his embrace settle around you as you both stayed silent for a moment.

After a while, Law turned his head, his golden eyes glinting with something unmistakably mischievous. A slow smirk tugged at his lips.

“So… I did take that nap. Does the offer still stand?”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, and grinned. “Definitely.”

A few hours later, when you and Law finally resurfaced for dinner, the atmosphere in the common room was as lively as ever. The scent of warm food filled the air, laughter, and casual conversations mingling as the crew enjoyed their meal.

“Well, look who decided to rejoin the living,” Shachi teased the moment his eyes landed on you two.

Penguin perched forward on his elbows, smirking. “Did you enjoy your nap, Captain?”

You had been prepared for teasing, but what you weren’t prepared for was Law’s response.

He simply shrugged and—without a trace of shame—replied, “Yeah. The nap was very… rejuvenating.”

Silence.

You could practically hear the gears turning in everyone’s heads.

“Did you just—” Shachi stuttered, unable to finish his sentence. He turned to Penguin, eyes wide with disbelief. “Did he just—”

Mortified, you elbowed Law in the ribs.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you hissed, your face burning.

Law barely reacted, aside from a slightly smug quirk of his lips. “Just being honest.”

The room remained silent for another beat, as if the crew was collectively trying to process what had just come out of their normally reserved Captain’s mouth.

Then, like a dam breaking, the reaction hit all at once.

Penguin let out a sharp laugh, nearly choking on his drink. “Captain’s feeling especially cheeky tonight,” he muttered, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Shachi sat there with a wide, shit-eating grin. “Must’ve been one hell of a nap.”

A chorus of laughter erupted around the table, a few scattered whistles and exaggerated oohs thrown into the mix. Jean Bart actually slapped the table, wheezing between breaths, while Clione was wiping a fake tear from his eye. Ikkaku was grinning behind her cup, while Penguin and Shachi just exchanged more jokes between themselves, laughing like maniacs. Bepo tried—and failed—to suppress a chuckle, his ears twitching as he cast you a sympathetic glance.

You wanted the ocean to crack open beneath you and drag you straight to the depths.

Meanwhile, Law just kept eating like nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just set the entire crew into hysterics. Not a single ounce of shame, not a flicker of embarrassment.

And to think you actually had the audacity to believe you’d embarrassed him earlier.

You shot him a glare, but the only response you got was the tiniest quirk of his lips before he took a sip of his coffee.

The infuriating bastard was enjoying this.

I really hope rejuvenating was the right word to use there. I spent so much time googling to find the good one

#onepiece #one piece fic #trafalgar law #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law x reader #polartangchronicles #heart pirates #law x reader

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screaminglygay · 2 months ago

Text

Welcome back

pairing: past!natasha romanoff x reader, wanda maximoff x reader

summary: you're back at the avengers compound - finally building a life of peace with wanda. but the past doesn't rest easily. natasha's bitterness rises the moment she sees you, and the tension finally boils over in a brutal confrontation. as old wounds reopen, wanda begins to spiral in her own doubts, just as you’re both finding happiness together.

warnings: angst!, emotional conflict, swearing, harsh words, jealousy, overthinking, unresolved tension, natasha being bitter, light smut, teasing, Pietro walking in on you, minor miscommunication, hurt feelings

word count: 11.8k

an: this was such a fun request to write, honestly had the best time diving into all the angst and messy emotions in this part:D thank you so much for all the love and support for this mini-series!<3

part one I part two I part three

You sat on your couch, your phone in your hand, staring at Fury’s contact like it might explode. It had been a while since you’d spoken to him like this… actually wanting something instead of turning him down.

But damn it, Wanda had gotten into your head. With a deep breath, you pressed the call button. Fury picked up on the second ring.

"Well, this is a surprise," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "To what do I owe the honor?"

You leaned back, exhaling, "I want to come back. But only as a trainer. Just the agents. No more, no less. And I want a normal schedule."

Silence.

Then, in that signature deadpan tone, Fury said, "Wouldn’t you like a Porsche with that too?"

You rolled your eyes, "I’m serious."

"So am I." Another pause. "See you at the usual time on Monday. And say thanks to Maximoff for me."

Your brows furrowed, "why?"

"For making up your mind." That made you sit up straight. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice before he hung up. You stared at your phone, everything clicking into place.

That sneaky little-

A knock at your door made you snap your head up. Right on time. When you swung the door open, Wanda stood there, looking as soft and lovely as ever, but you wasted no time.

"I know what you did," you said, crossing your arms. "Nice work."

She blinked, "what?"

"Sneaky little thing," you squinted at her.

Her lips curled into an amused smile, tilting her head. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

You stepped closer, leaning against the doorframe. "You’ve been playing the long game, haven’t you? Slowly getting in my head, dropping hints, making sure I’d call Fury on my own."

Wanda batted her lashes, "that’s absurd. I would never manipulate you like that."

You scoffed, "uh-huh. Right."

She grinned, stepping inside and letting her fingers trace up your arms. "I prefer the term… persuasive."

You shivered slightly at her touch, but you kept your composure. "Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?"

"Mm-hmm." She leaned in, her breath warm against your skin. "And are you mad about it?"

You sighed, feigning exasperation. "No, because it worked. I called Fury."

Wanda’s eyes lit up, and a proud smile spread across her face, "I knew you would."

You let out a soft laugh against her lips, "of course."

…

The morning felt heavier than it should have. You were sitting at the small dining table, mindlessly swirling your spoon in your cereal, staring at nothing in particular. Wanda, sitting across from you, noticed immediately.

"Alright," she said, setting down her coffee. "What’s up?"

You blinked out of your daze, "what?"

"You’re thinking way too loud." She tilted her head, amused. "First-day jitters?"

You exhaled, rubbing the back of your neck. "Now that I really think about it… isn’t it weird to just… go back?"

Wanda arched a brow. "Are you asking because of work? Or because of Natasha?"

Your lips parted, then closed again. "No… work of course not-" You hesitated. "Or… maybe both. I don’t know." You sighed, setting your spoon down. "It’s just… she’s there. It’s her place. And I’m just gonna waltz in like nothing happened?"

Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing against yours. "I get it," she said softly. "But she’s not the only one there, and besides… Natasha mostly does Avengers missions now. She trains sometimes, sure, but Steve and Maria handle most of it. She’s barely in the training areas anymore."

That made you pause, "oh, okay."

Some of the weight in your chest lightened, but not all of it. Because now that your brain had gone down that road, something else came to mind.

Maria Hill. She was still there too.

You hadn’t really thought about her in a while, but the realization hit you now. Unlike with Natasha, there wasn’t anger, just… weird emotions. Undefined, but definitely there.

Wanda watched your face carefully, reading you like a book. "You just thought of someone else, didn’t you?"

You sighed, "Maria."

Wanda nodded, like she expected that. "You don’t have to interact with her if you don’t want to." And once again, she didn´t asked much, she just understood.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. "I know. It’s just… strange. Like stepping back into a past life I wasn’t sure I’d ever return to."

Wanda squeezed your hand. "It’s not a past life. It’s just another part of your story. And you’re walking in on your terms now."

You looked at her, taking in the warmth in her gaze. The unwavering belief in you.

It helped.

You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders. "Yeah. My terms."

Wanda grinned, "exactly." Then she smirked, nudging your foot under the table. "And if you ever get too in your head about it… just remember that you’re probably going to out-train half of them."

You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head, "oh, yeah."

...

As you walked alongside Wanda toward the training center, your steps felt steady, but there was still that lingering unease. You glanced over at Wanda, who kept her pace casual, her eyes scanning the surroundings as if she were used to this space in a way that made you both feel comfortable and out of place all at once.

"So," Wanda broke the silence, her voice light but teasing, "what´s the first move?"

You hummed, "I´ll probably just test the waters, make sure where everyone stands, you know?"

Wanda smiled softly, nudging your shoulder with hers. "You’ll do fine. You’ve trained worse, right?"

You smirked, remembering the sheer chaos of trying to teach people who were barely able to say please and thank you. "Definitely. But this feels different. It’s been a while."

She smiled at you, but it softened into something more understanding. "Just remember why you’re here."

You nodded as you reached the entrance to the training area. The doors slid open, and you stopped just inside, feeling the buzz of energy from the group of agents waiting for you. They were ready, dressed in full tactical gear, standing in neat lines, some eyes bright with anticipation, others with a little more uncertainty.

"Alright," Wanda said, giving you a quick hug. "I’ll leave you to it. Do your thing. You’ve got this."

"Thanks, Wan," you said, returning her hug before stepping into the training space fully. She gave you a quick wave before walking away to attend to her own duties, leaving you standing in front of twenty very eager agents.

But now you realized… that you actually don´t know why are you here. But fake it till you make it, right? Once again, starting with a good tactic.

"Alright, listen up!" you called, your voice carrying easily across the room. "For those of you who don’t know me, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I’m your main trainer from now on. I’ll be pushing you all to your limits, and I expect the same in return. There will be no slacking off, no cutting corners. I’ve seen it all, and I’ll make sure you all earn every skill you walk out of here with."

You paused for a moment, watching their faces. There was a mixture of nervousness and excitement. You could see it, feel it… the anticipation was almost palpable.

"Now, today isn’t about perfection. It’s about seeing where you all stand." You motioned to the space around you. "We’re going to start with some basic drills to test your skill level and determine what you can do and what needs improvement. This isn’t a competition, it’s a learning experience. I need you all to give it your best, and I’ll be here to guide you."

Without further explanation, you had them start with a basic hand-to-hand combat drill, followed by agility and endurance exercises. As you moved from agent to agent, it quickly became clear that while there were a few standouts, most of them were still rough around the edges. Some couldn’t hold their stance correctly, others lacked the proper timing, and a couple couldn’t land a clean hit to save their lives.

You found yourself mentally noting where each one needed work, but the surprise was in how eager they all were. They were soaking in every bit of feedback, pushing themselves as hard as they could. It was refreshing.

As the last round of drills ended, you were about to offer some closing advice when you heard the familiar footsteps approaching. "Looks like you haven’t lost your touch," a voice drawled from behind you.

You turned around, your eyes narrowing in recognition. "Fury," you said, crossing your arms. "I should have known."

"You’re doing great," Fury said, his tone casual, though there was a hint of pride underneath. "I knew you’d pull this off."

You raised an eyebrow, your hands resting on your hips. "You’ve been watching me again, haven’t you?"

Fury didn’t miss a beat. "Needed to make sure you’d do your job right." He paused, glancing at the group of agents still catching their breath. "And it seems like you’ve done exactly that."

You snorted, shaking your head, "some things never change."

Fury chuckled, his lips pulling into a tight smile. "Hm. Just making sure the job gets done. You’ll always be the best at what you do."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Well, it’s nice to know you still have faith in me."

"Faith?" Fury raised an eyebrow. "I don’t need faith. I just need results." He gave you a meaningful glance. "And you always deliver. Just no more relationship issues, okay?"

You nodded, "yes sir," feeling that familiar mix of nerves and determination build in your chest. It wasn’t just about training these agents - it was about proving to yourself.

After you cleaned up, making sure the mats were properly set, the equipment put away, and everything was in order for the next session. It felt strangely familiar, like a routine you hadn’t even realized you missed. By the time you left the training center, the halls were quieter, the rush of the day settling into something calmer.

You took a quick shower in the locker rooms, letting the warm water ease the tension in your muscles. It wasn’t until you were making your way toward the main hall that you ran into Natasha. She looked just as surprised to see you as you were to run into her. She stopped mid-step, her green eyes scanning you, like she was trying to make sure you were really standing there.

"So," she finally said, crossing her arms, her voice casual, but you could hear the underlying curiosity. "You’re the new trainer, huh?"

You hesitated just slightly before nodding, "yeah…"

Natasha tilted her head, glancing over you like she was taking in the fact that you were really back. "What did you put them through today?"

"Basic drills, endurance, hand-to-hand. Just getting a feel for what they can do."

She nodded, "and?"

"They’ve got potential," you admitted. "But they’re nowhere near ready for fieldwork."

"Sounds about right," Natasha smirked at that.

There was a moment of silence between you, comfortable, but with something beneath it. Something unspoken. You shifted slightly, feeling the weight of it settle in.

"Listen, Nat," you said, glancing at her, "if this is weird for you… I can, you know-"

Natasha cut you off before you could finish. "Don’t worry about me." Her voice was steady, maybe too steady. "You said it yourself, it’s been some time, so…" she shrugged, like it was no big deal. But the way she averted her gaze for just a second, the way her fingers twitched slightly against her arm… it was a lie.

You pressed your lips together, not sure what to say to that. There was a weird awkwardness between you now, lingering in the air. It was strange - once, things between you and Natasha had been easy, natural. Now, it felt like walking on unsteady ground, both of you pretending you weren’t paying attention to the cracks beneath your feet.

You cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck. "I uh- I should go. You know, back to the good old paperwork," you joked, forcing a small grin.

Natasha gave you a tight-lipped smile in return. "Have fun with that."

You nodded, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before turning and walking away. Even as you left, you could feel Natasha’s gaze lingering on you, the weight of something left unsaid pressing against your back.

Wanda found you not long after your awkward run-in with Natasha, leaning against the wall outside the training center, looking at your phone like you were trying to distract yourself. She didn’t say anything at first, just reached out, took your wrist, and started pulling you along with her. "Come on," she said, a knowing little smile on her lips. "You’re having lunch with me today."

You let out a soft chuckle but didn’t resist, letting Wanda lead you through the hallways of the compound. "Where are we going?" you asked.

"The Avengers’ living room," Wanda said simply, glancing at you with a smirk. "I’m making lunch, and you’re helping."

"Oh, am I?" You raised a brow.

"Yes," she said it like it was a fact of the universe.

By the time you reached the living space, the scent of spices and something warm was already filling the air. It was cozy in here, unlike the rest of the sleek, professional compound.

Wanda pulled you toward the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves before looking at you expectantly. "So," she started as she grabbed some ingredients from the counter, "how was your first day?"

You exhaled, leaning against the counter. "It was… good. Really good, actually." You couldn’t hide the way your face lit up. "The agents are eager to learn, which is nice. And even though I was just testing everything, I already have so many ideas on how to make the training better."

Wanda watched you with a small, fond smile as you rambled, hands animated as you explained how you set up drills and how the rookies needed to work on their stance. She could see it, you were shining, excitement radiating off you in a way that made her chest warm.

"I haven’t seen you this happy about something in a while," she murmured, reaching for the cutting board.

You paused for a second, processing her words. Then you gave a small nod. "Yeah… I think I really like it here, I mean it´s a first day, but I have really good feeling."

Wanda’s smile grew as she turned to you, placing a knife in your hand. "Good. Now help me chop these, since you’re so full of energy."

You laughed, shaking your head but complying. The two of you worked side by side, moving around the kitchen with ease. Wanda gave you instructions, but half the time, she was just teasing you, nudging you with her hip when you reached for the same thing, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear when it got in your face.

At one point, you handed her a spoon to stir the pot, and she hummed in satisfaction. "You know," she said, stirring slowly, "I think I should be given more credit."

You raised a brow, "for what?"

"For being very persuasive," she smirked. "I get what I want, after all."

You narrowed your eyes at her playfully. "Are you talking about getting me to come back here?"

She hummed, tilting her head, "maybe."

You let out a laugh, "well, you sneaky little thing, you have all the credit."

Wanda just grinned, leaning a little closer, her voice dropping into something softer, "hmm, I´ll take all the credit later, don´t worry."

You swallowed, heart skipping a little at the way she was looking at you. Lord help you. "Just focus on cooking, Maximoff," you muttered, nudging her away with your hip.

"I can multitask," she kissed your cheek quickly.

You smirked, setting the knife down and turning to Wanda with an amused look. "Oh, can you, hm?" you murmured, leaning in just a little, close enough that your breath ghosted against her skin.

Wanda blinked, her teasing smirk faltering for just a second before she composed herself. "Mhm," she hummed, tilting her chin slightly, feigning confidence. "I always do."

You let your fingers brush against her wrist as you leaned in a fraction closer, "is that so?"

Wanda swallowed, her eyes flickering to your lips before she smirked. And just when you thought you had the upper hand, she moved, her hands settling on your waist as she turned the tables. "You think you can win this game?" she murmured, voice low.

Your breath hitched, your plan backfiring spectacularly. "I-"

"You're cute when you try," Wanda whispered before pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the side of your neck.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the warmth of her lips linger. "Wanda-"

"Hm?" She hummed innocently, her lips brushing against your skin again, sending a shiver down your spine.

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head, "I don't need to read your mind to know what you want, Wan."

Wanda smirked against your neck. "Then what am I thinking right now? What do I need?" she murmured, pressing another teasing kiss just below your jaw.

Your fingers tightened around the counter as you tried to gather your thoughts. "You're thinking… that if you keep this up, I'm going to burn our lunch."

Wanda pulled back just enough to look at you, her grin mischievous. "Oh, that would be tragic."

"Yeah, tragic," you deadpanned, though your pulse was still racing.

She chuckled before finally stepping back, giving you just enough space to breathe again. But the knowing look in her eyes told you she was more than pleased with herself. "Alright, alright," she said, grabbing the spoon again. "Let’s focus. Lunch first. I wouldn’t want to distract you too much."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, grabbing a towel and snapping it lightly at her hip. "Too late for that."

Wanda just giggled, completely unbothered, as she continued stirring the pot. "Maybe you should work on your focus, then," she teased.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. Flirty Wanda was dangerous, but you had to admit, you didn’t mind one bit. It´s the actual opposite.

As you finished plating the food, Wanda grinned, running a finger along the edge of the counter before turning to you with a smirk. "You listened so well," she murmured, her voice dropping into something softer, something very dangerous. She took a step closer, her hands pressing against the counter on either side of you, effectively trapping you in. "Now look what we made. I´m so proud of us, malysh."

Your breath hitched as you looked up at her. She was too close. Her lips, her eyes, the teasing glint in them, god it was all too much. "Wanda-"

But before you could say anything else, she leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. You melted instantly, your hands gripping the counter behind you as her lips moved against yours, soft and warm, making your heart hammer against your ribs.

Her fingers brushed against your waist, and you could feel her smirk against your lips as she deepened the kiss, her body pressing against yours just enough to make your head spin-

"Ah, well, I was going to ask what’s for lunch, but I see you’re already having (Y/N)."

You practically jumped out of your skin, tearing away from Wanda with wide eyes.

"Pietro!" Wanda groaned, her forehead dropping against your shoulder as she shook with laughter.

You, on the other hand, felt your entire body heat up. "I- we were just-" You cleared your throat, your brain scrambling for something - anything - to say. "We have, um… a gou-lash?"

Pietro arched an eyebrow, looking vaguely unimpressed. "A gou-lash?" he repeated, clearly biting back laughter at the way you pronounced it.

Wanda, to her credit, just nodded, her lips twitching as she leaned against the counter with a smug smirk. "Yes. A delicious goulash."

You shot her a glare, but it was weak at best.

Pietro hummed, pretending to consider it. "Ah, great," he said before grabbing some plates and heading to the table. "Steve and Bucky are coming in a minute. Clint and Bruce, too. The rest are busy with work."

You exhaled, trying to regain your composure as you picked up a dish. Wanda, however, was still grinning like she won something.

"Don’t," you whispered as you passed by her.

"Don’t what?" she asked, voice all faux innocence.

You narrowed your eyes. "Just… don’t."

She only laughed, stealing a quick peck on your cheek before sauntering off to help Pietro with the table.

Lord have mercy.

Lunch was lively, the sound of utensils clinking against plates mingling with casual conversation. Your goulash was a success, despite Pietro’s teasing.

As you took another bite, Steve turned to you with an easy smile. "You know, I was thinking, I’d love to work with you on training the agents. I handle a lot of the physical assessments, but having someone like you around? It would make a real difference."

Your eyes widened slightly in excitement, setting your fork down. "That would be amazing! I already have so many ideas… drills, scenarios, real-world application stuff. Honestly, I’d love to collaborate with you on it."

Steve nodded approvingly. "That’s exactly what we need, someone who knows how the field works, not just textbook tactics."

Bucky, who had been quietly eating next to him, suddenly chimed in. "You should also focus on instinct training. A lot of rookies freeze up in real combat. They overthink instead of reacting."

You turned to him, eyes lighting up, "oh wow, yeah, that’s amazing, James-"

The entire table burst into laughter, and you blinked, confused for a moment before Bucky sighed, shaking his head, "Bucky is fine."

A smirk pulled at your lips. "Well, Bucky," you corrected with emphasis, "I think it would be nice to have a Sergeant show the recruits some moves. I mean, who better to train them than someone with actual battlefield experience?"

Steve chuckled, "I second that."

Bucky huffed, but you caught the amused glint in his eye. "Fine, but don’t expect me to give motivational speeches like Rogers."

"Damn, I was looking forward to those." You grinned, taking another bite of your food.

Across the table, Wanda was watching you, her expression soft and proud. She could see how seamlessly you were fitting in, how the team was warming up to you, and it made her happy, really happy.

She reached under the table, giving your knee a small squeeze. When you glanced at her, she simply smiled, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

You weren’t just back, you were glowing.

You hummed softly to yourself as you gathered the empty plates, stacking them with ease before moving toward the sink. The others had already started to clear out, leaving you to tidy up without much thought. And even though Tony has like dishwasher 3000, that even sings you a song, you like to just wash it in your hands, since it´s few plates.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve and Wanda lingered at the table, their voices hushed. Steve glanced at you briefly before turning back to Wanda. "Good call," he said simply.

Wanda tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Steve gave her a knowing look, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Bringing her back. I like seeing agent work like this."

Wanda looked down for a moment, fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. Then, softly, she admitted, "It’s nice, you know? To see her be happy… truly happy."

Steve nodded, but his expression held something, that Wanda couldn’t quite place until he spoke again. "I don’t think you really believe that," he said.

She frowned slightly, "what do you mean?"

"She’s not happy because she’s back at work," Steve said, keeping his voice low but firm. "She’s happy because of you, Wanda. It’s not that hard to see."

Wanda blinked, lips parting slightly, as if to refute it, but the words never came.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re the main reason she’s happy. I might not know her as well as you do, but even I can tell. And it´s funny that someone with the ability to read someone´s mind, can´t see that."

Wanda let out a small breath, her gaze drifting to you as you washed the dishes, completely unaware of their conversation. There was a softness in her eyes, the kind that only came when looking at something precious.

Steve gave Wanda one last knowing smile before pushing his chair back. "Well, I’ll leave you to it," he said, standing up. "Have a good rest of your day, Wanda."

Wanda nodded, still lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to reality. "You too, Steve."

"See you later. Can’t wait for the training!" Steve turned to you as he made his way toward the door.

You looked up from the sink, smiling, "me too, Steve!"

As Steve disappeared down the hall, Wanda finally made her way over to you, her expression practically glowing with warmth. You raised an eyebrow at the soft, dreamy look on her face.

"Are you this satisfied with lunch?" you teased, drying your hands on a towel.

Wanda let out a small laugh, tilting her head, "yeah, very," she said, voice dripping with sweetness, the kind that made your stomach flutter.

You narrowed your eyes playfully, "so you’re looking at me like that because of lunch?"

Wanda just smirked, reaching out to take your hand in hers, "mhm."

Something told you that wasn’t the full truth, but you weren’t complaining if it meant that she will look at you like that. Wanda’s fingers traced lazy circles on the back of your hand as the two of you lingered in the kitchen, neither in a rush to move. Simple moment, just standing close, the warmth of each other filling the small space, but it felt perfect.

You watched her, the way her lips curled into that soft, knowing smile, the way her eyes held nothing but affection. The words were out before you even had the chance to overthink them, "I love you."

Wanda blinked, her breath hitching slightly as her eyes widened in surprise. But the shock melted almost instantly into something even warmer, even softer. She squeezed your hand, "I love you too."

The smile that took over your face was unstoppable, and before you could say anything else, Wanda leaned in, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. It wasn’t rushed or teasing, just right, like she wanted you to feel the weight of her words.

But of course, the moment couldn’t last forever.

The door creaked open, and a familiar voice broke through the quiet. "Oh- sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here."

You and Wanda pulled apart just in time to see Natasha standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

For a second, silence settled over the room, and the air felt a little heavier than before. Not tense, not necessarily uncomfortable, just… awkward.

Wanda shook her head, "It´s all okay."

You cleared your throat, shifting slightly, "It´s all good."

Natasha nodded once, stepping in just far enough to lean against the counter. "alright." A pause, "you two made lunch?"

"Yeah," Wanda answered smoothly, her usual ease returning in an instant. "There’s still some left if you’re hungry."

Natasha glanced at the covered dishes before shaking her head. "Nah, I’ll grab something later." Her eyes flicked toward you for just a second before she pushed off the counter. "I should- yeah. I’ll see you both around."

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind nothing but a faint trace of something unspoken. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Wanda gave your hand another squeeze, grounding you.

"She’s even more awkward now," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

Wanda chuckled softly beside you, reaching out to trace her fingers lightly over your wrist, "that does make sense."

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow, "how so?"

"She’s figuring things out, just like you are," Wanda said simply, tilting her head slightly.

You exhaled, letting her words sink in. It was true, Natasha wasn’t the type to just say what was on her mind, not when it came to things like this. And honestly? Maybe neither were you.

Wanda nudged you playfully, "just don’t overthink it." You scoffed, shaking your head. "You both overthink things," she added with a teasing smirk, and you couldn’t even argue with that.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, nudging her back lightly. "I’ll try."

Wanda grinned, "good."

…

The next few weeks passed in a blur of training sessions, late-night talks with Wanda, and getting closer to the rest of the team. It was everything you hadn’t realized you needed - purpose, excitement, and the feeling of belonging.

Training the recruits was honestly fun. Working with Steve was even better than you’d expected, his experience blending well with your own teaching style. Bucky got involved too, his dry humor keeping the sessions light even when he was drilling technique into the agents. The rookies liked you a lot, and Fury? Though he’d never say it outright to others, but he was clearly proud of work.

And then there was Wanda.

She made everything even better. Whether it was sneaking kisses between sessions, teasing you mercilessly when you got competitive during sparring, or just the quiet nights spent in her room at the compound, curled up together after long days. You still mostly stayed at your apartment, but Wanda had a way of making both places feel like home.

Everything felt right.

Except for one thing.

Natasha.

As time went on, she seemed to be pulling away. It wasn’t anything obvious, she was still polite, still professional, still Natasha, but there was distance where there hadn’t been before. Conversations were shorter. Eye contact was rare. She never lingered after team meals or meetings when you were around.

You tried not to think too much about it. Like Wanda had said… you weren’t going to overthink it. So you tried as much as you could. That was until one time… you had asked Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Natasha to join in, giving the recruits a taste of what it was like to fight against someone better, someone with experience, someone who could expose their weaknesses in seconds.

You had started with Bucky and Natasha, analyzing their tactics, breaking down their footwork and strategies for the agents to learn from. It was controlled, efficient, a perfect example of two highly skilled fighters who knew each other well.

Then it was Steve and Wanda. Watching her use her powers seamlessly in hand-to-hand combat was mesmerizing, and Steve handled it with practiced ease, adapting to her movements, showing the recruits how to counter abilities even when they were at a disadvantage.

And then… Wanda and Natasha.

At first, it was just another sparring match. Quick, sharp movements, testing each other’s defenses, both of them perfectly in control.

Until it wasn’t.

The intensity shifted.

Natasha’s strikes became sharper, her dodges tighter, her attacks more relentless. She wasn’t holding back anymore. Wanda adjusted, countering as best as she could, but Natasha was pressing her, forcing her to react rather than control the fight.

The recruits were quiet, watching with wide eyes.

You felt it before you fully registered it… something was off. Before you could intervene, Steve did. "All right, I think that’s enough," he said, stepping between them before it could escalate further. He kept his tone light, but there was an edge of authority in it. "Good demonstration. That’ll give the recruits something to think about."

You were already moving toward Wanda. "You okay?” you asked softly, searching her face for any signs of real harm.

She blinked, still processing, before nodding, "yeah, I’m fine. Just… didn´t expect that." She laughed it off.

Meanwhile, Natasha grabbed her things and left without another word. Steve hesitated only for a second before going after her. You turned back to Wanda, but Bucky was already there, offering her a water bottle. He gave you a nod, like he had things under control, so you let out a quiet breath and stepped back. You couldn’t focus on anything else. You needed to know what the hell that had been about.

So with soft kiss to Wanda’s forehead before stepping away. "I’ll be right back,” you murmured, squeezing her hand before turning on your heel and walking out of the training center.

No, rushing out.

Your heart was pounding, frustration buzzing beneath your skin as you searched for Natasha. It didn’t take long. You found her in one of the hallways, mid-argument with Steve. His arms were crossed, jaw set tight as Natasha spoke in sharp, clipped words, "I don’t care" she snapped. "It’s not my problem."

Steve exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to keep his patience. "You don’t have to make it one, but you could at least-"

The moment you stepped into view, Steve’s eyes flickered to yours. He sighed, shaking his head, before turning to Natasha, "figure it out," he muttered, then walked away, leaving the two of you alone.

Silence. Then, you broke it. "What the hell is your problem?!"

Natasha barely looked at you, "I don’t have one."

"Bullshit!"

She exhaled, long and slow, like she was forcing herself to stay calm, "just drop it."

"No. No, I won’t drop it, Natasha, because I am so sick of this" your voice wavered with anger, with something deeper, something raw.

"For weeks, you’ve been shutting me out, getting more and more distant, and I let it go. I listened when Wanda told me not to overthink it. But this? That wasn’t just a sparring match back there, and you know it."

Natasha scoffed, finally looking at you, but her expression was unreadable. Cold. "Why do you even care?"

You felt your stomach drop.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you refused to back down, "are you serious?"

She didn’t answer.

Your chest tightened. "I don’t know what your problem is, Natasha, but I’m done with this. If you have something to say, say it. Be an adult for god’s sake and just-"

"You moved on fast, didn’t you?"

Your words died in your throat. Natasha’s voice was sharp, cutting straight through you, but her expression stayed blank. A bitter laugh escaped your lips, "you’re kidding me."

She didn’t flinch.

"That’s what this is about?" you scoffed, shaking your head. "You think- what? That I wasn’t allowed to move on? That I was supposed to just sit around and wait for you, for you to finally stop playing around and realize that I care about you and not your status, not your past or where you came from- but you!"

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her silence speaking volumes.

"I waited for you, Natasha,” you seethed. "I waited until I realized that you cared more about people who flirted with you over your own girlfriend!"

Her green eyes flickered, but the mask stayed up, "looks like you’re fine now."

You let out a humorless chuckle, voice shaking, "you know what? Screw you. I am happy, Natasha. Truly happy. So why don’t you stick your head out of your ass and actually see that?"

Natasha’s eyes darkened, "for how long?"

You narrowed your eyes, "what?"

"How long until she picks someone else?" Natasha’s voice was calm, but her words dripped with venom, "because she will."

Your breath hitched.

"Don’t-" you warned, your fists clenching at your sides.

"She will," Natasha continued, stepping closer. "She’ll realize there’s someone better out there, someone less complicated, someone who doesn’t-"

"Don’t bring your insecurities into someone else," you snapped, cutting her off.

Natasha’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile, "it’s the truth."

You shook your head, blinking back the sting in your eyes, "you don’t mean that."

Her gaze didn’t waver. "She’ll get sick of you."

You sucked in a breath.

"You’re so needy," Natasha continued, her voice colder than you’d ever heard it. "You need so much, and one day, she’s going to need a break from you."

The words slammed into your chest like a hammer, knocking the air out of you.

Your pulse roared in your ears as you stared at her, your throat burning. "Well, at least I care," you shot back. "At least I’m not some cold, empty killer who doesn’t give a shit about anyone."

Silence.

It was deafening.

You could hear both of your breaths, shaky and uneven. And then, for the first time in a long time, Natasha’s mask cracked. Her eyes glistened, and before she could stop it, a single tear slipped down her cheek. You parted your lips, but no words came out.

She turned away.

And then she was gone, disappearing down the hallway, leaving you standing there, breathless, heart pounding and crying. You wiped your face with the sleeve of your shirt, taking a deep breath before stepping into the gym. Your body ached from the tension still coursing through you, but you tried to shake it off as you walked inside. Wanda was there, quietly cleaning up the mats from training. She hadn’t noticed you yet, too lost in her own thoughts, until she did.

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing slightly as she took you in. You knew she could hear it… your thoughts, loud and messy, tangled with guilt and frustration. "(Y/N)?" she asked softly, setting down the cloth she was holding.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "It’s nothing, I-"

"Don’t do that," Wanda interrupted, stepping closer, "I can feel it. What happened?"

Your chest tightened. You ran a hand down your face before you finally let out a heavy breath. "I found Natasha," you admitted. "We-" You hesitated, pressing your lips together before forcing the words out. "We fought. Badly."

Wanda’s eyes softened with concern, "what did she say?"

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head, "doesn’t matter."

Wanda crossed her arms, "I think it does." The last thing you truly needed was to have a fight with Wanda too.

You looked away, exhaling sharply. "I… I said she was a killer, Wanda." Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "The one thing she’s most vulnerable about, the one thing she probably hates herself for, and I-" Your breath caught in your throat. "I used it on her."

Wanda reached for your hand, squeezing it, "(Y/N)…"

"I weaponized it," you continued, your voice cracking. "That’s not who I am, Wanda. That’s not the kind of person I ever wanted to be."

"And I assume she also said something wrong?" You nodded, so Wanda squeezed your hand again, grounding you. "You both said wrong things."

"But I know better," you insisted, your voice raw. "I knew that would hurt her the most, and I still-" You exhaled shakily, dragging a hand through your hair. "God, this was a stupid idea. It was so stupid to come back here."

Wanda hesitated before speaking. "Well… it was my idea."

You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head, "yeah, but I agreed."

She sighed, watching you carefully, "do you regret it?"

"What?" you blinked at her, caught off guard.

"Being here," Wanda clarified. "Training again. Being with all of us."

You bit your lip, looking down. "No," you admitted after a moment, "not for a second."

Wanda nodded, giving your hand another squeeze. "Then that’s what matters."

You stayed close to Wanda for the rest of the evening, seeking comfort in her presence, unaware that something had shifted within her. She stayed by your side, held your hand when you needed grounding, whispered soft reassurances, but inside, she was battling her own thoughts.

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. She did. Natasha had been close for the two of you, and this fight, as messy as it was, had clearly hurt you. Wanda wanted to be the person you leaned on, the one who supported you through it. And she was.

But it gnawed at her.

The way you were so torn about Natasha. The way you spoke about hurting her, as if it wounded you just as much. The way your eyes had glistened with regret. Wanda tried to shake it off, tried to tell herself it was just because you were a good person. You cared deeply, and that was why she loved you.

But still. It hurt.

She could feel it creeping in, no matter how much she hated it. That little whisper of doubt. Would you ever be that upset about hurting her? Would you ever fight for her the way you fought for Natasha? Are you truly over Natasha?

She hated that her mind went there.

That night, she didn’t bring it up to you. She kissed you softly, held you a little tighter, but her mind was restless.

So, the next morning, she went to find Pietro. She found him in the common room, lazily flipping through TV channels. As soon as she walked in, he gave her a knowing look. "You’ve got that face," he remarked, smirking. "The ‘I’m overthinking everything’ face."

Wanda sighed, flopping onto the couch beside him, "I don’t want to talk about it."

"Cool," Pietro said, then turned back to the TV. "So… how’s the whole ‘my girlfriend cares so much about her ex-who-she-fought-with-and-it’s-really-bothering-me-but-I-don’t-want-to-admit-it’ thing going?"

Wanda groaned, shoving him, "shut up."

Pietro laughed but then glanced at her again. His smirk faded slightly, "wait. You’re actually upset."

She sighed, rubbing her temples, "I don’t want to be, I know she cares about Natasha. I know she’s just upset because she doesn’t like fighting with people she cares about."

"But?" Pietro prompted, raising an eyebrow.

Wanda exhaled sharply. "But it hurts, Pietro. I love her. And I know she loves me, but-" Her voice faltered. "I can’t help but wonder if she´s… still in love with her."

Pietro frowned. He turned off the TV, setting the remote aside as he fully faced her. "Wanda…" He hesitated. "That’s… kind of a sucky feeling."

She let out a dry chuckle, "tell me about it."

He shifted, thinking for a moment. Then, he shrugged, "that’s why I stay single."

She rolled her eyes, "so helpful."

Pietro gave her a half-smile, but when he saw the real distress in her eyes, his expression softened. "I’m serious, though. I don’t know how to help with this. You and (Y/N) love each other. That’s obvious. But I think… I think you’re scared."

Wanda blinked, "of what?"

Pietro tilted his head, "of getting hurt."

Wanda pressed her lips together. Pietro continued, "You always act like you’re fine, like you don’t get jealous or upset, but you do. And that’s okay. But, Wands," he sighed, "if you don’t talk to (Y/N) about it, you’re just gonna keep overthinking until you explode. And I really don’t want to deal with that. Let someone else read you too, you know?"

She let out another sigh, sinking deeper into the couch, "I don’t want to make it a big deal."

"But it is a big deal to you," Pietro pointed out. "So talk to her before it turns into something worse."

Wanda didn’t respond immediately. She just stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. She hated feeling like this. But Pietro was right. And sooner or later, she’d have to say something. But Wanda isn´t the biggest talker, when it comes to her own feelings, so it´s gonna be later than sooner.

At first, you didn´t notice it. Wanda was still smiling at you, still curled into your side when you spend the night at the compound, still slipped her fingers through yours absentmindedly when you passed each other in the hall. But there was something… different.

She kissed you good morning, but it was shorter than usual. She held your hand, but her grip wasn´t as firm. When you teased her, she laughed, but it didn´t quite reach her eyes. It was subtle, but you know Wanda. And something was wrong.

It took a few days before you couldn´t ignore it anymore. She was folding her arms over her chest more, keeping just a bit of space between you. Her mind was louder than usual, unspoken thoughts swirled around her head like static. You tried not to overthink it, but eventually, you had to ask.

You waited until you’re alone, sitting together in your apartment. "Wanda," you said softly, reaching for her hand. "Are you okay?"

Her fingers twitched slightly before she pulled away, "yeah," she answered, too quickly. "I’m fine."

You gave her a look, "Wanda."

She sighed, rubbing her temples, and for the first time in days, she really looked at you. There was hesitation in her eyes, something raw and uncertain, and it made your stomach twist.

"I-" She stopped herself, brows furrowing before she took a shaky breath. "I don’t know how to say this without sounding… jealous. Or insecure. And I don’t want to be that person, but-"

You sat up straighter, heart already pounding, "Wanda, whatever it is, just tell me."

She looked down at her hands. "You and Natasha," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not just that she’s your ex. It’s the way you fought for her that day, the way you reacted when she left. I saw how much it hurt you."

You opened your mouth to respond, but she shakes her head, pushing forward. "And I get it, I do. I just-" She swallowed hard, eyes flickering with something vulnerable, something fragile. "I’m scared, (Y/N). What if she still has a part of your heart? What if one day, you fight against me the same way?"

You felt like the air has been knocked out of your lungs. "Wanda," you breathe.

She looked away, "I know it’s unfair. I trust you, I do. But I can’t help thinking about it, and I hate that." She clenched her fists. "I hate that she still affects you."

You reached for her again, gently taking her hands in yours. "Wanda," you said firmly, waiting until she meets your gaze. "I love you. And I choose you. Every single day."

She exhaleed shakily, her fingers tightening around yours, "I just don’t want to lose you," she whispered.

You squeezed her hands gently, your heart ached at the look in her eyes. Wanda, your Wanda, who had always been so sure, so steady, now looked at you like she’s terrified of losing you.

"I´m not going anywhere, okay?" your voice was quiet but firm. "I don’t have a place for Natasha as a lover in my heart." You shook your head, swallowing hard. "If anything, she was my friend first. That’s why I fought for her, why I- why I tried."

Wanda looked at you, searching your face for something… maybe reassurance, maybe the truth she already knew, but needed to hear again. Her voice was softer now, hesitant. "Not even a bit of her?"

You sighed, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles. "I can’t change that we were exes," you admited. "It’s… not usual… this situation. I just… I want to make you happy, I don´t want to make you upset." You held her gaze, making sure she understands, "it wansn´t mean to be, it is sad, but we´re here, I´m here with you and i wouldn´t trade it for anything."

Wanda watched you for a long moment, her shoulders slowly relaxing. She nodded, more to herself than to you. "Natasha is my friend too, you know." She let out a sharp breath. "I don’t… Fuck, I hate this."

You blinked in surprise at the sudden curse, eyes widening slightly. It’s rare for Wanda to swear so bluntly, especially when she was being so straightforward.

She gestured vaguely, frustration clear on her face. "It’s a stupid fucking situation."

Despite yourself, you chuckled, shaking your head, "tell me about it."

For a second, there wassilence. Then, finally, Wanda exhaled a laughed too, albeit a small one. And for the first time in days, things didn´t feel so heavy between you. And you promised to eachother that you would try to get out of this situation with zero losses, meaning that neither of you would lose yourselves or Natasha. At the end, she is a friend.

You hadn’t seen much of Natasha since your fight.

Actually, no one had.

She wasn’t just avoiding you, she was avoiding everyone. Steve, Tony, Wanda even Clint. She still showed up for missions, still did what she had to, but beyond that? She was a ghost.

So when Steve pulled her aside and said he had an emergency - two agents fighting, needing backup, she hadn’t expected this. So of course she helped him.

The moment Natasha rushed into the gym, you knew. Her eyes scanned the room wildly before landing on you, her breath still heavy from running over so fast. And when she realized what was actually happening, just you standing there, her face twisted in something unreadable.

You turned, looking at Steve, who simply stood by the door, arms crossed.

Natasha's posture stiffened instantly, her body already pivoting toward the exit. "Steve," she warned, reaching for the handle.

"Talk," he said simply. And then… click.

The sound of the lock sliding into place made you jolt slightly. You glanced between Steve and Natasha, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. It had been weeks since you last spoke. Since that horrible fight where you said things you couldn’t take back. Natasha pulled a hairpin from her pocket, quickly kneeling to pick the lock. But before she could even try, you exhaled, shaking your head.

"You can’t open it," you said, crossing your arms. "Even if you pick the lock. It’s one of Tony’s new systems. The door won’t budge unless Steve lets us out."

Natasha shot you a sharp look before turning back to Steve, who simply raised a brow.

"Guess you’re stuck," he said, then turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you both standing in heavy silence.

Natasha sat on the ground, leaning back against the wall, her fingers absently toying with the pin she had tried to use on the lock. Her gaze was cast downward, jaw tight, and you could see the way her mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to navigate this without letting too much slip.

You watched her for a long moment, arms crossed, shifting your weight between your feet, "this isn’t ideal, I know," you finally said, voice careful, measured. "I doubt either of us wanted to have this conversation. But we’re here."

Natasha stayed quiet.

You took a slow breath, pushing past the lump in your throat. "I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t mean it."

Her fingers stilled against the pin, but she didn’t lift her head.

You hesitated, forcing yourself to keep going. "That day, when I said what I did- I knew it was going to hurt. That’s why I said it." Your voice cracked slightly, but you didn’t stop. "I wanted to hurt you, the same way you were hurting me."

Silence.

Your chest ached at her lack of response, but you pushed forward anyway.

"I pushed you away," you admitted, voice quieter now. "And now I hate that we’re not even friends anymore." You swallowed hard, emotions threatening to overwhelm you, but you forced yourself to keep looking at her. Really looking at her. "You were a huge part of my life, Nat. That doesn’t just disappear."

Finally, finally, her head lifted slightly. Her green eyes met yours, but they weren’t sharp or guarded like before. They just looked… tired.

"I still want you to be a part of my life," you whispered.

Natasha exhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over her face before finally speaking. "I’m sorry too," she murmured, voice raw. "For everything. And… I don’t think you’re a lot to handle." She hesitated, then shook her head. "I know Wanda won’t ever get tired of you."

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You felt something in your chest unclench just slightly, like a weight had been lifted, like finally, you weren’t fighting against someone who refused to meet you halfway.

"I was a dick," Natasha added, glancing at you.

You huffed a soft laugh, crossing your arms, "yup."

Natasha scoffed, shaking her head, but there was the smallest hint of amusement there.

"But me too," you admitted.

Her lips twitched, barely a ghost of a smirk. "Always had to do the same thing, hm?"

You let out a breath, giving her a small shrug, "it’s what we do."

For a moment, silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t unbearable, it just hung there, fragile but not suffocating. Then Natasha exhaled again, pressing her palms against her knees, looking at nothing in particular. "I had one good thing," she said suddenly, voice quiet. "One thing in my life that felt real. And when we broke up, I lost it. I lost the only good part of me."

Your throat tightened, but you didn’t interrupt.

Natasha’s gaze was distant, like she was lost somewhere in the past. "I’ve never been certain of anything in my life, not really. Everything’s always been a mission, a directive, something to follow. But when I was with you…" She hesitated, fingers twitching slightly. "I thought I was certain. Even if I was terrified of it. And when I had the good thing, I wanted more and more, until the main reason why I was happy… I lost the main sorce of my happiness."

You swallowed hard, biting the inside of your cheek.

She let out a small, humorless chuckle. "I don’t even know what I’m saying right now."

"It’s okay." You reached out your hand, offering to help Natasha stand up.

And for the first time in a long time, Natasha didn’t pull away and took your hand.

You took a slow breath, steadying yourself before speaking, "I don’t regret it, you know."

Natasha blinked, caught off guard, "what?"

"Loving you," you clarifed, your voice steady but soft, "I don’t regret any of it."

She stared at you, like she’s not sure she heard you right. Like it physically hurts her to hear it. But you don’t stop.

"I’m with Wanda now, and I love her. I really, truly do," you continued, watching the way Natasha’s expression shifts, how she keeps her face neutral, but you can see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers tighten slightly. "But that doesn’t mean what we had wasn’t real, or that I wish it didn’t happen. Because I don’t."

Natasha swallowed hard, looking away for a moment, like she needs to gather herself before she can respond.

"And I know how much you mean to Wanda," you went on. "She doesn’t say it out loud all the time, but I see it. She trusts you, looks up to you even. And Pietro… he’s starting to fit in, and I know a lot of that is because of you."

Natasha exhaled sharply, shaking her head, "I didn’t-"

"You did," you cut in, giving her a small, knowing smile. "Without you, neither of them would be getting comfortable here as easily as they are. And I just…" You paused, gathering the right words. "I see that you’ve changed. And I’m proud of you, Nat."

She looked at you then, really looked at you, like she’s trying to figure out if you mean it. Like she wanted to believe it but didn´t know if she’s allowed to.

"I’d be happy if we could be friends," you said gently. "Because I’d like that. I really would."

There’s a long pause before Natasha finally nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I would like that too."

Something in your chest eased, and when you step forward, arms open slightly, she hesitates only for a second before pulling you into a hug.

You held her tight, and she held you just as firmly, but there’s something else there, something breaking beneath the surface. Because this is closure. This is her realizing that no matter what, she can’t go back in time. And even though she said she want this, even though she does, it still hurts. Seeing you with someone else.

You pulled back just slightly, searching Natasha’s face, "so… we’re good?"

She met your gaze, nods. "Yeah. We’re good.”

Before you could said anything else, there’s a soft beep, and the lock on the door clicks open.

Natasha exhaled sharply, glancing toward it. Then she looked back at you, "if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go kill the famous Captain America."

You couldn´t help but chuckle, stepping aside so she can leave, "go easy on him," you said, though you both know she won’t.

Natasha gave you one last look before shaking her head with a smirk and walking out of the room.

You stood there for a moment, exhaling slowly. It’s like a weight has lifted off your chest. Things are not perfect, but at least you talked things through.

You found Wanda in the common area, lounging on the couch with a book in her lap. The moment she saw you, she smiled, setting it aside. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," you replied, dropping down beside her. You exhaled, letting yourself relax for the first time in what felt like days. "I talked to Natasha."

Wanda tilted her head, studying your expression, "and?"

You smiled, a genuine one this time. "We're good. I mean, as good as we can be. We're friends."

Wanda let out a relieved sigh, nodding. "I'm glad. It´s been a lot… she need a break"

"So do you," you pointed out, reaching for her hand. "But yeah, I’m happy. I think this is good for all of us."

Wanda squeezed your fingers gently, "yeah. I think so too."

Before you could say anything else, the door opened, and Natasha walked in. She looked around for a second before her eyes landed on you.

"So," you said with a smirk, "did you kick America's ass?"

Natasha smirked back, "of course I did."

Wanda chuckled softly, shaking her head. But then Natasha’s expression shifted, and she looked at Wanda more seriously. "Can we talk?"

You blinked, exchanging a glance with Wanda. Oh.

Wanda shot you a look before turning back to Natasha, "um… yeah, sure."

You hesitated for a second, then stood up. "I’ll just… be over there," you said, motioning vaguely before slipping out of the room.

As you left, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of nervousness. Whatever Natasha wanted to say to Wanda… you just hoped it wouldn’t undo all the progress you had made.

Wanda crossed her arms as she watched you leave, then turned back to Natasha. "Alright," she said carefully. "What do you want to talk about?"

Natasha exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "I just…" She hesitated, like she was trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to say. "I wanted to make sure there’s no… weirdness. Between us."

Wanda arched an eyebrow. "No weirdness?"

Natasha shrugged, forcing a small smirk. "Yeah. You and me, we’re good, right?"

Wanda narrowed her eyes, seeing right through her. "You tell me."

Natasha held her gaze for a moment, then sighed. "Look, I just want you and (Y/N) to be happy, alright? That’s all I care about."

Wanda tilted her head, fingers tapping against her arm, "and that’s it?"

"That’s it," Natasha lied, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. She could hear the way her voice wavered, could feel the ache in her chest. But she ignored it.

Wanda studied her, searching for something in her expression. "You don’t have to do that."

Natasha frowned, "do what?"

"Pretend," Wanda answered. "I know it hurts you."

Natasha’s frown deepened. "Don’t go inside my head," she muttered, her tone sharp.

Wanda stayed calm, but her expression remained firm. "I’m not," she said evenly. "But I know that if I did, I’d see that I’m right."

Natasha’s jaw tightened. Something in her shoulders went rigid, a flicker of something almost like panic in her eyes. "Don’t," she snapped, voice lower this time.

Wanda took a slow breath. "Then don’t lie."

Natasha let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You think you know everything, don’t you?"

"No," Wanda admitted. "But I know enough."

Natasha clenched her fists at her sides, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "It doesn’t matter," she muttered, looking away.

"It does to me," Wanda said softly.

"Why?" Natasha asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it. There was a quiet desperation in it, a frustration she wasn’t sure she could keep contained much longer. "Why do you care? You got what you wanted. You have her."

Wanda hesitated, then stepped forward. "Because you’re my friend too, you know," she said. "And I don’t hate you, even if sometimes I wish I did. It would make this a lot easier."

Natasha forced a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You and me both."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.

Wanda studied her, searching her face for something Natasha wasn’t sure she wanted to show. "You’re allowed to be upset, Nat," Wanda murmured.

Natasha scoffed. "What good would that do?"

"It’s better than pretending you’re fine when you’re not," Wanda said. Natasha sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore," she admitted, voice quieter now.

Wanda nodded, understanding. "Then figure it out. But don’t shut everyone out in the process."

Natasha still wouldn’t look up, her eyes fixed on the floor as if the answer to all of this could somehow be found in the cracks beneath her feet. Wanda could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was holding herself so tightly, and she didn´t have to read her mind at all.

"You don’t have to say anything," Wanda said after a moment, her voice softer now, "but don’t pretend like this doesn’t hurt."

Natasha let out a breath, one that sounded just a little too shaky. "Of course it hurts," she muttered.

Wanda waited, giving her space to keep going, to say something real. And for once, Natasha didn’t fight it.

"I-" Natasha exhaled sharply, raking a hand through her hair. "I know she’s happy with you," she said finally. "And I want that. I want her to be happy." She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "But I still-" She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stop.

Wanda nodded. "You still love her."

Natasha let out a bitter laugh, her hands tightening into fists, "yeah, I do."

Wanda could feel the weight of the confession, how much it was costing Natasha to say it out loud, especially to her. And for once, she didn’t feel jealousy creeping in. Just… sadness.

"But that doesn’t change anything," Natasha said quickly, as if trying to convince herself more than Wanda. "She’s not mine anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time."

"That doesn’t mean you can just switch it off," Wanda said gently.

Natasha sighed, finally looking up. "I know that, I tried that," she let out a chuckle. "But I also know I don’t want to lose her again. And I sure as hell don’t want to mess things up with you."

Wanda blinked, caught off guard, "with me?"

"Yeah," Natasha said, her voice almost resigned. "I know I’ve been a pain in the ass, but… you’re important to her. And I- I don’t want to be the thing that puts a wedge between you two."

Wanda studied her for a long moment. There was no deception in Natasha’s face this time. No act, no pretense. Just raw, aching honesty.

"You won’t," Wanda promised. "Not if we don’t let it." Natasha huffed a quiet, humorless laugh. "You make it sound so easy."

"It’s not," Wanda admitted. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t try." Natasha didn’t answer right away. She just stared at nothing, shoulders slumped. She looked exhausted, drained in a way Wanda hadn’t seen before.

"I just… I miss what it felt like," Natasha said suddenly, voice so quiet Wanda almost missed it. "Being in love with her. Being loved by her." She exhaled. "It was the one good thing I had. And when I lost it, I lost the best part of me."

Wanda’s chest ached at the way she said it, like she truly believed it. "That’s not true," she said. "You’re more than who you were with her, Nat."

Natasha didn’t look convinced.

"You don’t have to lose her," Wanda continued. "Not completely. And you don’t have to lose yourself either."

Natasha let the words sink in, her throat working as she swallowed. "I want to believe that," she admitted.

"Then start trying."

Natasha huffed a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. "Look how the tables turn," she muttered, shaking her head. "You helping me out."

Wanda smiled, tilting her head slightly. "That’s what friends do.”

Natasha blinked at her, something twisting deep in her chest. Friends. It should feel like a relief, like something solid to hold on to, but all she could think was… why is she so nice?

She should hate her. She should resent her, should want nothing to do with her. After everything, after the hurt, the mess Natasha had made of things. But she didn’t.

Wanda looked at her for a long moment, as if she could hear every thought in Natasha’s head. And maybe she didn’t need her powers to do that, maybe she just knew.

"You held enough hate to yourself," Wanda said, voice steady. "I don´t see the point to adding up on that."

Natasha swallowed, her throat suddenly too tight.

"Love is-" she hesitated, searching for the right words. "Love is what holds a person together. What keeps them alive."

Natasha looked away, jaw clenching. She wanted to argue, to push back, to scoff at the idea of love being some great, saving force. But… wasn’t that why she was hurting? Because she had lost it?

Wanda sighed. "I know what it’s like to hold onto something so tightly because you’re afraid of what happens if you let go." She exhaled, softer now. "But you don’t have to hold on alone, Natasha."

Natasha closed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t know what she had expected from this conversation… maybe anger, maybe resentment. But not this. Not understanding.

When she opened them again, Wanda was still looking at her, still offering something Natasha wasn’t sure she deserved. But she wanted to. God, she wanted to.

So she just nodded. "Okay."

Wanda smiled, small but real. "Okay."

…

Weeks passed, and Natasha was really trying.

She helped you with recruits, running combat drills and teaching them how to spot weaknesses in an opponent. She sparred with Steve, listened to his endless lectures about teamwork, and even agreed to help Clint babysit on his rare nights off. She joined in on dinners with the rest of the Avengers, laughing at Tony’s terrible impressions and throwing in her own dry remarks that made everyone crack up.

She and Wanda found an easy rhythm on missions, covering each other, moving as a unit. There was no hesitation between them, no lingering tension. Just trust. And when you and Natasha sat together, talking shit about Fury’s ever-growing list of secrets, it almost felt like before.

Every friday night (if there was no missions or Tony´s parties) the common room was filled with laughter, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light over the group. It was movie night, something Tony had declared mandatory for "team bonding" (though everyone suspected he just liked forcing his bad taste in movies on the rest of them).

You were curled up against Wanda, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your arm. She was warm, solid against you, and every now and then, she pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

Across the room, Steve was in the middle of a heated debate with Tony, arms crossed as he scowled. "Salted popcorn is objectively better," Steve argued, gesturing toward the bowl in his lap. "It’s simple, classic-"

"Boring," Tony interrupted, tossing a handful of caramel popcorn into his mouth. "You’re boring, Rogers."

"Caramel is just sugar pretending to be food," Steve shot back.

Bucky, lounging lazily with his feet up on the coffee table, raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t you a billionaire? Why don’t we just make both and be done with this?"

Tony scoffed dramatically, waving a hand. "That’s not the point, Rust Bucket."

Natasha, sitting comfortably in the armchair beside them, smirked and looked over at Bucky. "Leave them. They’ll tire themselves out in a minute."

Bucky hummed in agreement, watching as Steve and Tony continued bickering like an old married couple. Natasha’s gaze flickered over to you and Wanda. Her expression softened as she took in the way. Wanda curled closer to you, the way you leaned into her touch without hesitation.

She flashed you both a small, easy smile. "You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?"

Wanda rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Says the woman who ‘accidentally’ left The Notebook playing on loop last week."

Natasha scoffed, "That was Clint, and I stand by my alibi."

You chuckled, shaking your head. It was nice… this easy, teasing dynamic. Natasha seemed okay. She felt okay.

Everything was good.

Everything was normal.

Natasha sat back in her chair, a faint smirk playing on her lips as she watched the group around her. The warmth of their laughter, the way they bickered and teased, it should have felt like home. It should have been enough. It was before.

She turned her gaze back to you and Wanda, curled up together on the couch, lost in your own little world. She had smiled when she called you disgustingly cute, had even managed to make it sound teasing and light. But the words had burned as they left her lips, a quiet kind of agony twisting in her chest.

Because the truth was, it still hurt. It still felt like she was being ripped apart, piece by piece, every time she looked at you and knew you weren’t hers anymore.

And yet, no one noticed.

No one noticed the way her hands shook when she was alone, gripping the edge of the sink until her knuckles turned white. No one noticed the way exhaustion clung to her bones, no matter how much she slept, if she even slept at all. No one noticed that her smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes, that they never had, not since she lost you.

No one noticed how, when she said she was happy for you, she had been lying… not to you, but to herself.

No one noticed that beneath it all, she still felt lost.

And this time, she was faking it so well that even she almost believed it.

Almost.

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