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the-travelling-witch · 10 months

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𝐀𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄

summary: when the mysterious guy coming into the coffee shop asks you to join him for a concert, you hardly believe your eyes when you meet him there

pairing: idol! childe x student! barista! gn! reader

warnings: suggestive at the end, otherwise fluffy

modern au series || genshin impact masterlist

Working part-time in a coffee shop wasn’t half bad. Sure, as with every job in the service sector, some people just didn’t know how to behave themselves but there were also just as sweet interactions. Your co-worker also made stressful situations a whole lot more bearable, always ready to help you out if needed and handling even the grumpiest customers with ease. Besides all of that, as a college student basically running on caffeine, getting some insight into the business was an added plus as well.

As you got ready for your morning shift on a Wednesday like every other, you greeted your colleague and surveyed the almost empty shop. A few people were typing away at their laptops, others were reading and a steady amount of customers with to-go orders came in. Nothing out of the ordinary, really.

About half an hour in, you were asked to take care of the register while your co-worker went to restock some stuff and things were going well, no fumbling with cash or mistyping any orders. The only note-worthy event of the shift was when a guy dressed in baggy clothes, a bucket hat, a mask and sunglasses came in. If you had to guess he was about your age but it was hard to say with his entire face obscured. Not thinking too much about it, you concluded you had seen weirder characters before.

Until you met him again on your Friday night shift right before closing time. This time again in an all black outfit, shaded glasses on even at that time of the day. Same thing on Wednesday as well. But when you asked if that guy was a regular you had never met before, you learnt that he’d only started showing up recently and that nobody knew much about him except for that he talked the bare minimum while being polite and leaving a generous tip from time to time. He also never showed up during rush hours, only when the shop was relatively empty.

Friday, like clock-work, he was back and when he ordered you couldn’t suppress the cheeky “One iced Americano for the mystery man” that slipped past your lips a little too quickly. The first few heartbeats after, you were terrified you had offended him, that he’d ask to talk to your manager and you’d get in big trouble for being out of line.

But then he started chuckling and pulled his mask down as he leant forward onto the counter. Hooking his pointer finger around one temple of his sunglasses, he slipped them partially down his nose and your first thought was what a shame it was to hide a face like that. Eyes as blue as the ocean and teeth as white as pearls, he looked like someone straight out of a novel, who should not exist in real life. And without his mask muffling it, his voice was smooth and melodic and it made you want to hear more of it.

“The mystery man thanks his cute barista,” he mused, lips curled into a playful grin. And then, this guy had the audacity to wink at you before sliding his accessories back into place, taking his coffee and sauntering out the door as if nothing happened. Meanwhile you were still blinking at the glass he just disappeared through.

It was just one sentence yet it was enough to pull your thoughts back to the beautiful stranger. Sure, he might not have meant anything serious by it but he called you cute for crying out loud! On more than one occasion, it had you burying your face in your hands at the memory.

So, much to your delight, the next times he stopped by, when he came up to the counter to see you working there, he always pulled his sunglasses down and generally talked more, not necessarily about himself though. It was your co-worker that informed you the guy only did that when you were working the counter, never with anyone else, and that statement had no right to give you as many butterflies as it did.

“So,” blue eyes sparkled down on you as you handed him his change, “I’ve been thinking. And I realised I hardly know anything about the pretty face behind the counter. Quite the shame, don’t you think?”

“Well, uh…” you awkwardly laughed. Pointing to your name tag, you said, “I guess you know my name already… I really don’t know what else to share.”

“Aw c’mon, don’t sell yourself short,” he smiled. “I’m sure there’s plenty of interesting things about you. Okay, let me help you out… Do you like idols by chance?”

“Uhm, I do I guess,” you tried stringing together an answer. Not really the question you expected to be honest. “There were a few groups I followed more closely but lately I’ve not been keeping up much. I’m pretty interested in music in general though.”

“I see, I see.” Leaning forward again and lowering his voice, prompting you to do the same, he continued as if he was sharing a secret. “The thing is, I have concert tickets for an idol group next weekend and I don’t feel like going alone. Care to join me?”

“Did you really spark this whole round-about conversation just to ask that?”

The guy laughed. “Maybe~ So, what do you say?”

“I-” Were you really about to take him up on the offer? No… Were you really about to reject a date with this guy? If you planned to meet at the concert hall, there’d also be a crowd around. “Sure, I’d love to go.”

“Great,” he beamed, shooting back up with energy to rival a golden retriever. “You’ll be here on Wednesday, right? I’ll give you the ticket then!”

“I can hardly wait,” you laughed, his enthusiasm contagious. “How much do I owe you?”

“Owe me? Oh please, it’s free of charge.” Before you could protest, he already held up his hand to shush you. “I have the ticket already anyway and you’re doing me the honour of your company. Really, don’t worry about it.”

That was how you found yourself trading a coffee for a ticket the following week, a sticky note with a phone number attached, the name Ajax scribbled underneath. Luckily, it was close to the end of your shift because you felt like you could explode from excitement. Walking out of the coffee shop, reality started to sink in; you were going to a concert, with a cute guy, that same weekend… You pulled out your phone and quickly scrolled through your recent calls and barely waited for the other person to greet you.

“Kaveh, I need your help with an outfit.”

Three days and a very stressful outfit and make-up session later, your entire closet had been uprooted and strewn across your room and you still had no idea who “Vizion”, the group you were going to see, was. You really wanted to check them out before the concert but, as it tended to do, life got in the way and the only info you had was that the four members were a fairly new rookie group with some sought-after trainees and a lot of potential, signed under the reputable Lapis Dei Entertainment. But that was about it.

Taking a deep breath, you checked once again if you had the ticket when the concert hall came into view. The venue wasn’t all that big, understandably so for a group still trying to grow their fanbase, and you had relatively little trouble finding the meeting place you and Ajax had agreed upon. As you waited for him to show, more and more people started filling the open space and their excited chatter and laughter was contagious, helping you calm down a little. Just when you went to check the time again, a message came in.

Ajax: I’m so sorry, I’m running late!

Ajax: Please go in without me, I’ll catch up with you later!

Ajax: Again, so so sorry!!

Okay, no need to panic. You could navigate this venue on your own and totally weren’t banking on Ajax’s expertise; this was a walk in the park, right? Yeah, except for the fact you were already struggling to make out where you had to go after passing the general entrance. Apparently a group of fans saw you staring down on your ticket in confusion and decided to take pity on you.

“Heya there!” A guy with two braids framing his face greeted you. “No offence but you’re looking a little lost. First time at a concert?”

“Uh, yeah actually,” you sheepishly replied. “To be honest, I have to idea how to get to my spot.”

“Let me take a look at your ticket,” he beamed and as you handed it to him, a blond and an auburn haired guy peeked over his shoulder as well, while their white-haired friend stood to the side giving you a friendly smile. “Oh hey, what a coincidence! We’re headed to the same area! If you want you can tag along!”

“Thanks, that’d be a great help.”

“You must have really looked forward to seeing Vizion if you’re willing to go to your first concert on your own,” the blond smiled. “That takes some courage.”

“Oh, I was actually meeting with a friend,” you said as the group started moving. “He said he’s running late though. It was his idea to come here, so I don’t actually know too much about the group performing tonight. Are you guys fans of them?”

“I guess you could say that,” Heizou, as he had introduced himself, hummed. “Actually, we know some of the members from before they debuted, so we’re here to show our support or something like that.”

“Wow, that’s so nice of you,” you smiled. “They must be happy to have their friends here.”

“Well, we’ve not been in very close contact for a while,” Kazuha corrected. “Plus, they don’t quite know we’re attending. Thoma would probably freak if he did.”

Sooner than you expected, you found yourself surrounded by other people, some of whom carried signs or wore shirts with names printed on them. You recognised the name of the friend Venti and his group had been talking about; for the others you drew a blank. To your surprise, you ended up a lot closer to the stage than expected; hopefully Ajax would find you here. After all, you mainly came out to spend time with him, not to see Vizion; although going to a concert was a nice bonus.

Passing time by chatting with your new acquaintances, you found out they ran a piercing and tattoo studio not far from the coffee shop together with two more guys. Now that they mentioned it, you did seem to recall your favourite co-worker mentioning something along those lines.

Before you knew it, the lights on stage shifted and the crowd went wild, making you jump out of your skin with surprise. Then, your attention was drawn by the four figures appearing on stage. As a man with blond hair and chartreuse green eyes stepped forward, the men next to you started hollering and cheering like crazy, giving you a hunch as to who he was. Due to the rather small venue for an idol group, he could probably hear them too, making it a point to interact with the other side of the audience while his fellow members covered this one.

And then, fluffy ginger hair and azure eyes captured your attention.

There was no mistaking him. It was the mysterious guy from the coffee shop, who you’d gotten to know as Ajax, making fans scream as he winked in your general direction, a cocky grin decorating his handsome face.Waving into the crowd some more and playing along with the people gathered in the arena, it was clear he was a natural at working the crowd and capitalising on their excitement. Gathering at the centre of the stage, they formed a line.

“Look ahead! Hello, we are,” Thoma started before the rest chimed in, “Vizion! Thank you to all our Fates who are here tonight!”

The crowd broke into wild applause and shouts as they bowed, one or the other shriek of a name piercing through the noise. One by one, the members were introduced; starting by Thoma, the leader of the group, to Chongyun, the icy-haired dance prodigy and Yanqing, the long-haired wonderchild, the youngest of the group. When Thoma lifted his mic, there was only one person left to be introduced and it would be a lie if you said you weren’t brimming with curiosity.

“Last but not least, please let me introduce our ace, Childe,” the blond announced, waiting for the ruckus to die down before continuing. “Whether it’s rap, vocals or dancing, our oldest will be sure to pull you in with his siren-like voice and visuals.”

“Not to mention that he’s as loud and obnoxious as a siren too,” the guy next to Thoma quipped into his own mic, earning him a few chuckles.

Although you thought at first Thoma was exaggerating when it came to Ajax’s -or rather Childe’s- abilities, you were very quickly proven wrong. Whether it was the fast-paced lines of a verse or the moving high notes of a ballad, you were hanging onto his every word, emotions stirring in your chest and the music flowing through you. Suddenly you understood why sailors jumped overboard after hearing a siren’s song; no wonder you couldn’t get enough of his magnetic voice the first time you heard it.

Time flew without you noticing it. What felt like minutes ended up being hours of you giving a certain someone on stage your undivided attention as you couldn’t physically tear your eyes away from his smooth and fluid movements. Despite not knowing the songs, the energy surrounding you had you jumping with everyone else and picking up on the fan chant as well.

Maybe it was your imagination, but you could’ve sworn Childe was coming over to your side of the venue more often than elsewhere, winking and blowing kisses to fans around you who melted at the attention. There was a spark in his eyes as he stood on stage, as if performing had him coming truly alive and, perhaps for just a second, you envied his passion. But most of all, you were happy for him.

The absolute kicker of the show, in your opinion anyway, was when Childe disappeared backstage just to come back holding an electric guitar. Playing a few chords to tease the beginning of a song, he soaked up the crowd’s reaction before getting serious. And stars above, he was better than good. Moving across the stage past Chongyun on the drums, leaning in to share a mic with Thoma, his fingers dancing skillfully over the strings as sweat rolled down his temple, toned arms on full display, the image ingrained itself into your brain. You genuinely wondered if there was something he couldn’t do.

Sadly, every good thing had to come to an end, so eventually the artists said their final goodbyes, thanking everybody for coming out to support them, and disappeared under the stage while being showered in thunderous applause. Even as you drifted outside in the sea of people exiting the venue, your heartbeat still wouldn’t slow down as you finally had time to sort out your thoughts. The guy you planned to meet was an idol! That realisation hit you like a ton of bricks and your brain flashed you a slideshow of every possible embarrassing moment in his presence. Very helpful, much appreciated.

“Too bad your friend never showed, huh,” Venti threw out as you finally were under open skies again. “He did miss out on not only spending time with you but also on a good show.”

“Oh he’s here actually.” Not technically a lie, you guessed. Holding up your phone you added, “He just never made it to where we were but I’m hoping I can find him somewhere now.”

“You sure?” Kazuha asked, head tilted to the side. “Should we wait with you? Do you have a way to get home?”

“Oh, I’m fine really. I appreciate the concern though,” you smiled. “Thanks for everything tonight. I really would’ve been lost without you guys.”

“No problem! As long as you had fun,” Aether chimed before waving as they took their leave. “It was nice meeting you!”

“Yeah and if you ever think about getting a tattoo or a piercing, think of us!” That was definitely Heizou shouting. What a bunch of dorks.

Waiting a few more minutes so you could be sure you wouldn’t run into them again and would have to explain yourself, you got ready to leave. Despite what you said, you were well aware there was absolutely no way you could meet Ajax right now. The way home was uneventful, yet it did nothing to quell the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Everytime you closed your eyes you saw an ocean blue gaze and a pearly smile. Damn it, were you really crushing on an idol? Well, technically you had been before you knew he was an idol… Shaking your head, you hoped to derail that train of thought before it could even leave the station.

Plopping down on your bed, you stared at your phone trying to figure out what to do now. What did you say in a situation like this? Where would you go from here? With a groan, you discarded your phone somewhere on your mattress and let your back hit your bed before whirling around at the sound of your ringtone. Glaring at you in the dimly lit room was the caller info of the one person your thoughts were racing around.

“Hi there~” An amused voice greeted you right as you swiped the green icon to the right. “I hope you had fun today.”

“Bold move for someone who never showed up,” you tried to tease, hoping to downplay the nerves thumping up your throat. “You’re putting in quite the effort just to get people to attend your concerts, you know. I don’t think it’s an effective marketing tactic, Childe.”

On the other end of the line you could hear chuckling. “Listen, I really am sorry for pulling that stunt on you, but I didn’t want to ruin the element of surprise of it all. I’ll think of a way to make it up to you; can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to think. “Maybe… But in all seriousness, I did have fun tonight and you did a great job. I think I’m gonna be hoarse from all the screaming tomorrow.”

The second the words left your mouth, you wanted to pull them back in. But hearing Ajax’ s smug voice confirmed it was too late as you could basically see his shit-eating grin through the phone.

“Oh really?~” Ajax drawled. “I’ll have to hear you do that again for me, perhaps with less people around.”

“You are the absolute worst.”

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#┊holly’s modern au ✩彡 #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact modern au #genshin modern au #childe x reader #childe fluff #genshin impact childe #tartaglia #genshin childe #childe genshin impact

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gotouhitori · 1 month

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Okay, so. I'm in Love with the Villainess. Watashi no Oshi wa Akuyaku Reijou. WataOshi. Whichever title you want to refer to it by.

Before reading or watching it, I wondered why the hell people were holding up this random villainess isekai light novel with an over-the-top masochist main character as a landmark yuri title. Okay sure I don't doubt there's yuri going on, but how can it be so special?

Then I watched the anime. "Huh. The series and its main character are clearly and unambiguously lesbian in a way that so many other series can't bring themselves to be. And it has the most frank discussion of queer issues I think I've ever seen in anime or related media. Yeah, I think I see now, it is a cut above." And both because I've heard the novels get into a few things a little more and because the series now has its hooks in me enough for me to want to read the novels anyway, I read the first novel. And yeah, that does add a bit.

And then I read the second novel. The latter bit of the anime does cover the first bit of the second novel, but it's mostly new territory for an anime-only or anime-first such as myself. And holy fucking shit. Spoilers under the cut.

For one thing, the anime/first novel dropped some trans hints about Yu, and that turns out to be a whole transfem allegory - which isn't unheard of by any means, but it's not especially common in a work where that isn't the main focus. And not only that, but there's an actually explicitly textual transmasc in Rae's past life, who forms part of Rae's motivation to make considerable effort and take considerable risk (up to and including treason) to make sure Yu can live as a girl - once Yu states that is what she wants, it is important to note. Random yuri villainess isekai light novel says trans rights, and will absolutely stand by it.

And then all of the stuff about class and inequality comes to a head, and remember how the game that Rae's in the world of is titled "Revolution"? Yeah. One of those happens. Various hints have been dropped about what happens, largely centred on Rae making efforts to save Claire's neck in the most literal way possible when things really go down. But holy shit does that turn out to be more effort and a much more complex endeavour than it appears at first... or for most of the time while it's going on, for that matter. Ultimately she arranges things so that while the revolution still happens (it is basically inevitable), overall loss of life and suffering is minimised, and the general situation is as good as it possibly could be. By the time the proverbial smoke clears, Rae and Claire are openly living as a couple, which is a lot more than you usually see - one of the things Rae comments on is how in per previous life, too much of the yuri she read ended with at least one of the girls either dead or winding up with a man, which annoyed her enough to write fanfic based on series she likes with unsatisfying endings to fix that. And though the game did have a yuri spinoff, the original - the events of which she was living through and manipulating - was het. The character she winds up with was never supposed to be a romanceable character to begin with.

And that's just the first two of the five novels. Living through and changing the course of an actual revolution and settling down with her partner is just 40% of the whole story. (And less if more novels get published.) I've just started the third novel, and it's certainly looking like the rest is going to be at least as much of a ride as the first two were.

This really is an outstanding series. It's Dungeon Meshi levels of "I cannot stop thinking about it" to me, which if you've seen how much I post about that, says a lot. And I haven't read even half of it yet.

#i'm in love with the villainess #watashi no oshi wa akuyaku reijou #wataoshi #yuri #trans rights #lesbianism #lgbtqia

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riacte · 5 months

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Fuck it, posting the False-Martyn Secret Life body swap AU the distressed clowns cooked up in the copium lounge when it dropped.

Basically we wanted False in Life series soooooo bad and we wanted Renchanting soooooo bad and was like. Hey we can just make up our own stuff right. Hey what if body swap AU. So she could go to play Life series and Martyn could find Ren on Hermitcraft. Hey what if we just did that yeah.

False is falling.

Well, she's falling, but she's doing it in a nonchalant way, and she's actually very confused about the whole thing, but she's trying not to show it.

"Do you know why you're here?" the Watchers seethe, their many voices echoing in the void.

False is unaffected by the Watchers. "Um, no? A bit of explaining would be appreciated, thank you."

"The Watchers are hungry," the Watchers continue. "Ravenous. Distressed. Depressed. Straight up delusional. We crave more blood. Drama. Stories."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, but what does that have to do with me?"

"The Watchers want you. " A pause. "We've always had. Since like, 2021."

False blinks. "Oh. I'm… flattered?"

"Copium can only sustain us for so long," the Watchers continue grandly. "We're good at creating crumbs out of thin air, but we're at our limit now. We hold on until we can't anymore. So, please. We need you here."

False shrugs. She's still falling. "Sure. Why not? This seems fun. I'll join you in a heartbeat."

"… You seem unaffected by us. We're gods. We control the universe. We control you. We have interesting fanon portrayals. AND WE'RE MEANT TO BE SCARY!!"

"Dude, I'm literally falling into the void," False points out. "Voices aren't really scary compared to that."

"… You're an interesting one, False Symmetry."

"Charmed," False replies drily. "Anyways, where do I begin?"

The Watchers explain the rules to her and how she'll be sharing the body of another player. "Martyn. Hmm. Well, I guess that might as well happen," says False, who is on Tumblr and has probably Seen Things.

“By the way, he's somehow down to half of his hearts already."

False gasps, highly offended because she'll be starting out with a disadvantage. "Martyn's done WHAT NOW-"

A confused Martyn wakes up inside the Hermitcraft server. Fortunately for him, the gears in his mind turn quickly. He picks up the communicator next to him and instantly understands the situation.

Ren: Falsie!! When are we gonna meet at the race? :D False: would 11 in the morning be ok? Ren: Yes!! See you there!! RD <3 <3 <3 :)

Martyn gasps dramatically. Is this what it feels like to have Ren answer your DMs?

#life series #secret life smp #technically #trafficblr #oh my god do i maintag #why are they both active on tumblr #also secret life premiere day devastated millions. by millions i mean the ten mutuals that i frantically dmed and we all wailed about it tg #took one look at the namelist and exiled myself to fuckass blue river raceways. been there. am there.#i got reminded of this bc i wanted to type false and it suggested falsemartyn 🤡 like damn wonder where that came from #symmetree #ria.fic #falsesymmetry #inthelittlewood #evil maintag BLAST

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sc0tters · 9 months

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The Last Hello | Mat Barzal

summary: it’s been two months since you last saw Mat. but what happens when you are both in important roles in the event and Mat had been doing som personal evaluating.

request: yes/no

warnings: sad Mat, no real ending, slight use of strong language

word count:3.1k

authors note/ ending went to crap as I am tried so pls excuse any typos cause this wasn’t beta read. This is sort of a part two for The Last Goodbye, but I won’t make a series as this is the last part. both parts came be read separately but they make more sense in the way suggested (pt 1 then pt2). To the person who wanted Wedding Mat I didn’t know if you had a preference for whether or not he was the groom. So if I’ve gotten it majorly wrong just let me know and I’ll write you a new piece!

pt 1

You wondered if you would have been seen as a bitch if you didn’t show up.

Sure you were the maid of honour, and sure you had said you could survive seeing Mat for a whole week again but that didn’t mean that you thought you could actually do it.

You hadn’t seen Mat in over two months after timing the pick-up of your stuff in his apartment whilst he was in New Jersey you were physically officially gone. It was the worst reality check that Mat could have ever come home to, the first sign was when your hat wasn’t on its hook by the door anymore and it only went down hill from there. The Canadian had contemplated all of the different ways to talk to you, he had called all of your friends and the ones who did pick up said you needed space. He even sat at your favourite coffee shop every morning for a week until one of the baristas who had seen the two of you in there plenty of times eventually told him that you started getting your coffees delivered to work and that’s why you hadn’t been in there.

It had been the hardest two and a half months of your life. When the islanders were knocked out of the cup you wanted to call him, when you saw a cat that reminded you of Marley. The ginger cat you snuck into your dorm and then had to give to Mat when your RA found out about him. That led to three happy years where you were proud cat parents before Marley got sick causing you two to have to put him to sleep, leading to a week of near none stop tears from you both. When you saw a couple at your favourite table at the local Korean BBQ place you wanted to tell him as it was an ongoing joke between the two of you. But your brain always told your heart to forget about it as there was no chance you were going to do that to yourself. Sure you regretted breaking up with him after you had some time to think about it, but you really never thought that he’d ever take you back. And besides with how things ended you knew that you missed the old Mat, not the current one who value love in the way that you did. Staying in New York was tough on your heart so you opted to moving further into the city where you were now in Rangers territory. Your one bedroom apartment was above this nice old lady who had three cats who all seemed to adore you. Felix the grey tabby cat made daily trips up the stairs to come say hello to you where he got his daily dose of cuddles from you. The best part about Margret though was that she knew nothing about hockey so you turned into an open good about your breakup with Mat.

It was refreshing being able to just vent to a totally outside party about it all “know you remember that if he gives you any shit you punch him okay,” Margaret’s words drew a laugh from your lips.

You loved how blunt she was “and then I’ll give him a second one and say it’s from you,” you nodded as you pulled her into a hug “thank you,” not only had she taken you to the airport but she had also convinced you to go to the wedding. Her words called you out for being a bad friend at the fact that you even considered not going just because of a boy. Whilst Mat was a little bit more than just some boy to you, you understood what she meant and were quick to book your flight to Kelowna just after that.

Sure you were disappointed that you weren’t going to make it to the bridal shower but you were swamped at work and Lenasia was just grateful that you could come to the wedding.

You and Mat had been asked to be the maid of honour and best man respectively as your friendship with the couple had gone on for years. It came as a shock when you announce that you and Mat had broken up but when both she and Ethan had confirmed with both of you that you were comfortable being around the other during the big day, wedding plans were quick to continue on.

After the long flight you thanked your taxi driver as you got out of the car “just when I thought you wouldn’t show up.” Ethan joked as he had seen your taxi pull into the street a minute ago from the kitchen window.

You let out a playful scoff “miss my Gracie Bear too much for that.” You pretty much stepped into the role of playful aunt whenever you saw his daughter. It was aided by the fact that she seemed to adore you “she’s just woken up from a nap,” he explained as he pulled you into a hug.

It felt weird for him as he had never heard your side of the break up from you. Sure Lenasia had relaid information onto him after you called her in tears one night, so he knew that you were just as broken as Mat was but it was tough not being able to say anything to either one of you about the other. The soon to be married couple wanted to meddle but they knew that it was best if they kept their noses out of it all “you better not be hiding my maid of honour E!” Lenasia called out causing you to giggle “where’s my beautiful bride?” You asked as you made your way into the cabin.

Your relationship with the girl has blossomed over the fact that your boyfriends played on the same team, when they went separate ways you still remained in touch never letting your friendship burn out.

Mat thought he was dreaming when he saw you walk in, the way you hugged Lenasia placing a kiss on her cheek before you picked up Gracie and proceeded to smother her in kisses eliciting a high pitched giggle from the baby. You looked good, there was no doubt about it. You had cut your hair and had even gotten those highlights that you had been contemplating on for like four years.

When the Canadian locked eyes with you everyone seemed to notice it. Even Gracie did as she made a little noise of complaint that she wasn’t your center of attention. Not wanting to be weird you let your face form a soft smile “why don’t I show you to your room,” Lenasia offered as she motioned to you to follow her.

Ethan watched as the three of you left as you still had Gracie in your arms “you okay bro?” He asked as he tapped Mats arm. That was the weirdest thing he had like ever seen the boy so “yeah,” the Islanders player nodded as he thought he was going to throw up. The idea of seeing you again was something that he once looked forward to, still desperate to get back with you Mat hadn’t accepted the fact that you two had broken up. Actually seeing you felt like a whole different territory.

A wave of nerves came over you as you guys walked past more bedrooms “since my cousin decided to come you have two options, there is a bed in Gracie’s room or-” Lenasia sent you an apologetic look as she felt bad for the situation you had been put into “it looks like we’re roomies.” You had cut her off because you knew the second option involved Mat, she hadn’t given any signs to indicate that matter but somehow in your heart you knew that he was apart of the unsaid statement.

You looked down to the clothes you were wearing and realised that you were in need of a change “I’ll let you take her whilst I go freshen up?” You asked as you held Gracie out for her mother to grab.

The first real moment of silence you got came and hit you like a truck. With the amount of unknown girls that were there you were glad that none of them were Mats date. Sure it didn’t mean that he was single, but it meant you didn’t have to watch him get all cozy with another girl.

Your body practically collapsed onto the bed as you were in need of a nap. The eight hour plane ride was finally catching up to you. But just as you were about to doze off into a peaceful slumber you heard that ever so familiar laugh “you look like you’ve just died,” Mat pointed out as he leaned against the frame of your door.

You rolled onto your side to look at him “been a long day,” you confessed as you had been up since five in the morning due to nerves.

What surprised you the most was the way Mat walked into the room and sat in the little arm chair that faced your bed. He wanted to talk but the words were not things that he could find “how were the parties?” You asked as you propped your head up by your hands.

It actually hurt Mat that you hadn’t asked him about himself and he meant that in the least conceited way possible. Maybe it was the fault of his brain or his heart but he truly thought that you could have at least asked how he was “they both went down successfully.” He nodded as he rubbed his chin feeling the stubble that was being to grow through.

You always loved it when Mat had a beard, it was a tradition at one point that if the Islanders made it into the playoffs that he’d let his beard grow for the duration of the teams time in the playoffs.

It might have sounded absurd but the action from the boy made your thighs clench “thanks for picking up my slack when I was gone.” You yawned as you smiled at him.

The Canadian watched as you rested your head on the soft padding that was your duvet “I’ll let you get some sleep,” his voice was soft as he pulled your blanket over you.

The way you mumbled a small thank you before you shut your eyes warmed Mats heart “I love you,” he whispered making sure that you were all tucked in before he left you.

So what he didn’t hear was how you said the same words back just as he walked out of your bedroom letting your sleep consume you.

Your love for Gracie was seriously being question by the way she continued to babble whilst the two of you were meant to be asleep “Gracie Bear please so me a real one and just go to sleep,” you pleaded as you knew that you were going to have to be awake early tomorrow for the long and hectic day that stood ahead.

When your requests went ignored you let out a sigh running your fingers through your hair. You really didn’t want to have to do it but if you wanted any chance of a solid night of sleep then you clearly had no choice.

So you muttered things to yourself as you grabbed your phone charger before you left your room making sure to kiss Gracie’s head on your way out. The way to Mats room was short, Lenasia had shown you where it was just in case you needed it. The thing that took the most time was mustering up the courage to actually knock on that door, it took three soft knocks on the door before Mat shuffled out of bed and opened the door.

Due to the height difference you were met with his chest “what’s up?” He asked as he let out a yawn surprised to see you there.

You rocked on the balls of your feet “can I sleep in here tonight?” You cocked your head hoping he’d say yes “Gracie won’t stop talking.” You added as you rubbed your eyes.

The boy laughed “sure,” he nodded as he motioned to you to come in.

The sight of his room made your heart feel at ease. The two single beds had the left one untouched and the right was where he clearly slept. He never used to have a side of the bed where he slept but when he learnt that you took the left side his only option was to become a right side sleeper.

You sat on what was now your bed as you just stared at the roof. It wasn’t often that you experienced being left speechless given that you were talkative by nature “I’m sorry,” Mat blurted out causing you to lift your head as you looked at him.

When he saw that you were confused he had to continue “for everything I did.” He shoved his hands into his sweatpants as he sat on his own bed.

All you could do was nod “you didn’t so anything wrong Mat.” You sighed as it was the truth. If he had yelled at you or cheated on you it would have made the end of your relationship not feel as forced.

Mat had spent the last few months reflecting “I’m sorry for what I didn’t do then,” he knew that it probably sounded better as your main reason what you had shared for breaking up was the fact that he no longer showed you love.

A smile formed on your lips “thank you,” was all that you could get out as you fiddled with the necklace around your neck.

You felt bare without your M necklace so once you gave it back to him you were quick to get a replacement chain as you needed something on your neck “we should probably go to sleep,” the hockey player announced as he looked at the digital alarm clock that sat on the table between you.

Mat simply hoped that the silence in the dark would give him more time to wrack his brain for things to say to you. Somehow he had all the time in the world whilst having none of the words.

A sigh fell from your lips “goodnight Mat,” you mumbled as you rolled over to let the sleep consume you.

Surprisingly the wedding was going really well. The ceremony was beautiful, you walked out to see Mat and swore you were going to cry but you kept it in because you knew that you’d wind up crying later.

Which was totally true, your tears struck in the middle of the couples speeches. Thankfully for you though you were sat next to Mat after two of the bridesmaids that were sat on either side of you wanted to sit next to each other. The Canadian noticed the sniffle you had as the tears welled up in your eyes, he was quick to lock his hand with yours “you okay?” He murmured into your ear as he shot you a concerned look.

You nodded as you raised your fingers to your face making sure to catch the tears that fell before they ruined your makeup “yeah,” you sighed “that was just really cute.” your confession caused him to chuckle. It hurt you both though because deep down inside as you listened to Ethan make his undying love speech to Lenasia, you both thought about Mat being in his shoes and you being in Lenasias. Your wedding although as hypothetical as it was, it was still something that both of you had thought out in depth having conversations and everything. The type of venue all the way down to the cake had been decided on. Mat would never intend on telling you this but he’s even had your engagement ring ready to go for the last ten months.

He was meant to propose on your big Valentine’s Day bash but with his injury that trip got canceled and so did your proposal.

The air between you two felt dense as people began to separate as they made their ways to the dance floor.

You decided to stay back was you had Gracie on your lap and as a result Mat stayed with you.

It wasn’t something that you expected him to do but nevertheless you appreciated it “she likes your bracelet,” the Canadian pointed out as he smiled.

Gracie made a string of noises before she looked up at the girl “she likes the fact that it’s shiny,” you explained shaking your head as you made funny faces at the girl.

Mat always knew that you were going to be a great mother “always thought you’d be like that to our kids.” He let his filter disappear as it caused your eyes to go wide “our?” You repeated as you hoped you had done so indeed.

You smiled as he nodded “we’d have a girl and a boy.” You had both agreed that you would have a minimum of two children as you both grew up with siblings and felt like if you were to have a child that they should do the same.

This rush of the feeling of content waved through your body “I want you to ask me again.” After only getting two hours of sleep due to the fact that he had been racking his brain for what to say, he had finally come up with the perfect answer.

Despite the not contact for two months, you knew exactly what he was talking about. “Do you love me?” You asked as you took a deep breath.

Whilst you knew that his answer was more than likely yes or else he wouldn’t have told you to ask him, you still felt like his answer might have been like his previous one.

Mat turned his chair so that he could face you “I love you so much that you’re the first thing that I want to see when I wake up and the last thing I want to think of when I go to sleep.” Your heart practically melted at the confession “you are my life, my happy and my world all in one, so I’m sorry I made you feel less than.” Usually be would have stopped with the first co session. Doing things like the second one were meant to be for massive moments.

And a massive moment is what this was.

Your Mat was officially back.

#mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #imagines #oneshots #mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #amber writes fics

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morsesnotes · 2 months

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I found this interview from when Shaun Evans was promoting S3 of Endeavour in 2016 and thought it was one of the more interesting ones as he gets asked some different questions. I particularly liked seeing him talk a bit about his peers and how he views his career.

Shaun Evans talks Endeavour series three, Hollywood and whether he'd star in Doctor Who

As Morse returns, the star of the hit ITV drama reveals what's next for his career By David Brown - Radio Times

Falsely accused Endeavour Morse was last seen languishing in a prison cell after being framed for murder. But fans of the hit ITV drama needn't despair - Shaun Evans is back on the case for a third series beginning this evening. Here, the actor talks about life as the Oxford detective, why Morse has endured for four decades and what the future holds...

So what has brought you back to Endeavour for a third series? I didn't feel like we should have left it where we did last time. It would have been odd. As a viewer, I would have been dissatisfied to have left it there because you'd have only been telling half the story. Luckily enough, we had the opportunity to come back to do some more and I think the stories are really good - particularly the final one. It goes along at a lick. It's a bank heist but it's also a love story. And it's heartbreaking. I think it's great and it ends in a really satisfying way.

The character of Morse has now been around for 40 years - why has he endured? A good story well told will stand the test of time. And if you throw in an unusual character - someone who is in a world but not of that world - then that's intriguing.

The original series of Inspector Morse did episodes in Australia and Italy - would you like to do an overseas Endeavour? Well, they keep telling me that the character is going to Spain. But I can take myself to Malaga. I'm joking, but I'm being honest too. There is a Spanish idea, but I'd want it to be right. I don't want this job to be a jolly or something that we take for granted and phone in. There are so many variables to that kind of thing: would the locations be as good? Or the actors? Granted, it would be a laugh to go away with Roger Allam, but would it serve the show?

Does Endeavour Morse become more like you as the series goes on? I think that’s a danger, definitely. The more comfortable and confident you get with something, the easier it could be to be less diligent about creating a character. But then you’d be taking shortcuts that you might not have done three years ago. So I try not to be complacent about it. I want to be even more diligent than I was when I started. But I admit that it's a tricky one.

Having a two-hour slot for a drama seems like a privilege these days - do you worry that viewers' attention spans could be too short to cope? I don’t worry about it at all. I feel like the work we’ve done so far has been very good. Some have been better than others - as would be the case. But I feel pleased with it. Now if audiences change and they feel that the episodes are too long, boring or complicated, then we’ll just stop. That’s OK. But I've seen some crime dramas that try to tell the story in an hour and, for me, it just doesn't work.You’re tyring to set up a killer, set up a world, solve it in an interesting or dynamic way and put in some character stuff as well. It’s nigh on impossible to do in an hour. I don’t think you can do it in a satisfying way. That’s my impression as an audience member.

Fans would be up in arms if you decided to stop Endeavour! No. I don't think that'd happen. It's just work. And they'd just fill it with something else. There'll be another brilliant show.

I think you'd make an ideal Doctor Who - would you like to play that role one day? I’ve never seen it! I think Matt Smith is a brilliant actor. And David Tennant also. But it just wasn’t my thing growing up and I feel like I’ve missed it now. I was in Moscow a few months ago and someone asked me about Doctor Who. And she thought I'd make a good Master. So if you’re offering me a part, then I’ll play the Master.

What about playing James Bond? Well, everyone wants to play James Bond, right? He always gets the girl at the end. And in the middle. And at the beginning, come to think of it. But I think that Daniel Craig would be a tough act to follow. He brings something really interesting to it.

Do you ever look at contemporaries like Benedict Cumberbatch and Eddie Redmayne and think, 'I'd like top billing in a Hollywood movie'? I know both those lads and I like them. But I never really think of my career like that. Of course, you want people to see your work, but I'm not interested in being the next so-and-so. It doesn't attract me. Mainly because it's short lived. It's better to keep working and do interesting stuff.

So being a big Hollywood star isn't all it's cracked up to be? I don't know. I suppose if you had enough clout to guarantee finance for a story you wanted to tell, then that would be a good thing. From a business point of view. But I don't spend my time being envious. There are so many variables in all that bollocks! When you desire fame or fortune - which are ephemeral things - you're building your house on sand, aren't you?

Do you have a dream project that you'd like to do? I'd love to do something about poets or photographers who have done interesting things and left an impression on their portion of the world. Someone like the American photographer Walker Evans. Or the French poet Arthur Rimbaud.

So what's next for you? I'm purposefully having some time off. I've been busy and I'd like a bit of time to read some books and just study. I want to educate myself on writers, photography, filmmaking and poetry. I'm very lucky that I've now got enough money to have a bit of time to myself and study. I'm very lucky to be in that position.

#endeavour #itv endeavour #endeavour morse #shaun evans #doctor who #did not know he was so into poetry!#interview

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year

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Rei and Miri in Buddy Daddies Episode 5 - SPOILERS!

Even though there was a lot of focus on Kazuki, rightfully, fretting, I do feel like this episode focused a lot more on Rei’s bond with Miri.

First we start off with Rei and Miri playing games together. A big change from Ep. 2 when Miri was roll all over his games and when Miri asked if he has Morio Kart, he gave a quick and clear “No.” Though it seems like he has Morio Kart now, because of those sound effects and the way Miri is moving around while she is playing. It’s like she is leaning into the movement of her kart, I used to do that a lot as a kid playing games, and still do that when I’m really into it as well:

Then we have Kazuki telling them all the stuff they can’t buy or get anymore because the money is tight, and we get this scene below:

Of both Miri and Rei looking at Kazuki like he is awful, lol. This scene above really does feel like a family moment though, they feel like a family unit here, and they should, since they’ve had Miri for a little more than three months now. We see at the start of this episode that it’s the end of March (it makes me wonder if the series will get to May and “Mother’s Day” and how that will get handled).

Then later we see Rei focusing on the fact that Miri has homework. He focuses in on the presentation aspect of the assignment ( “tell...everyone?”), while Kazuki focuses in the “parent’s job” aspect. I’d imagine that, outside of the “it being told to everyone” aspect, the presentation aspect would be the worst part for him, personally. Meanwhile, Kazuki is the one that cares a bit more about image and the like, so he focuses in the job aspect specifically.

I’ll go back to that conversation on her homework in a little bit. But, for now, when he tries to get away, Miri is the one that stops him this time, instead of Kazuki like in the past.

Later, when Miri gets lost, he lets out a little huff of concern when he tells Kazuki that “Miri’s gone.” Rei is a generally more composed person, he doesn’t really express his feelings, unlike Kazuki who is very open and very freaked out. Jumping to some...WILD...conclusions, not only in regards to Miri, but to stuff involving Kyutaro. Though Miri is a very good girl and tries her best to not say “papas,” lol. And I can’t really capture it here, but Rei was really putting in a lot of speed when he runs off to try and find her along with Kazuki. (Side note: I love how the animation keeps in his hunched over position and lazy gait, even when he is running).

Then, towards the end of the episode, they spend time to show Rei gently, carefully, and properly picking up Miri. She isn’t being placed in his arms like Ep. 2 or running into his arms for him to pick up like Ep. 3. In Ep. 4 we do see him holding her in his lap, but I think this is the first time we’ve seen him actually pick her up like this.

And he’s the one that says, “Let’s head home, then.” Between last week, when they gave Miri her room, and this week, with him acknowledging his apartment as their home, it seems like he is fully accepting of the idea that Kazuki and Miri are going to be permanent fixtures of his life and will just be living in his apartment.

And the way Miri worded this, “And it’s toasty warm when we all sleep together!” makes me think that the whole “sleeping in one bed” thing happened more than once. Maybe she is only talking about before she had her bed, but she might be talking about times when she had a nightmare or something and slept together with them (though, we do see Rei still sleeping in the bathtub this episode, unless he only did that because Kazuki was out). Hmm...

Anyway, after Rei picks her up, she immediately knew it was him and not Kazuki. She’s likely still in a half-awake, half-asleep phase and was probably able to recognize it was him through scent, warmth, the feel of his jacket, etc. All these small things that indicate that she has been held close by him and knows what it’s like to be held by him.

Kazuki’s expression is obviously his worry over her spilling the beans here on them being her papas, but Rei’s expression...I don’t know. I feel it may be more shock that she knew it was him. Especially given the shot right after she says it and starts breathing easily again (the image above). He seems reassured about the fact that she is safe and unharmed and knows her Papa Rei, even when she is practically asleep. Then he shoots daggers at Kyutaro initially when he states “I know everything” in a very serious voice. He was probably getting ready to fight for Miri (like, physically).

This all ties back into him adjusting to Miri in the sense of realizing he needs to take more responsibility for her safety, especially after Kyutaro gives him and Kazuki a tough love style speech on the danger and responsibility they are going to have realize and face by bringing Miri into their lives and being her fathers.

Finally, we have her presentation. Kazuki tells her thanks for the pictures she drew of them, while Rei focuses more on her skills, “Well done” (on the presentation). It makes me wonder if Rei may end up being the one that acknowledges and helps her with her academic skills more than Kazuki, since that is an area more relatable to him (value being placed in skills). His eyes look softer too.

#Buddy Daddies #Rei Suwa #Kazuki Kurusu #Miri Unasaka #Kyutaro Kugi #BD spoilers #Buddy Daddies spoilers #long post #image heavy post #meta post #sorry I saw Rei hate over on Reddit so I had to write this

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ashdash2417 · 4 months

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K, y’all. Can we talk about the abandonment issues Uzi may have?

(The info I’m about to share is just my thoughts on all this. I could be right on some parts, and I could be wrong. Again, I’m just sharing what I think based on stuff we’ve seen from the series. Anyways.)

What inspired me to make this was this very moment right here.

“Are you like, gonna leave me?”

You can tell by her voice that she was scared. Scared that the only friend she’s ever had, the only friend that she’s made her whole life was going to leave her, and it certainly didn’t help that N and V got along well with the other students. Doing some activities together, having fun, playing around and stuff.

I think seeing this, this was the starting point of that fear in this episode. (I’m a little certain that in general, this may go back as early as the first episode, but I’ll talk about that in a bit.)

Here’s that fear she shows after investigating a little bit in the cabin, watching her closest friend get along and interacting with her classmates, despite having been a literal killing machine. And to add salt to the wound, he did so in such a short time. Something that she herself has never really accomplished the whole time she’s been in school.

Some jealousy may also be shown because of this, as she was talking to V, who was also doing well interacting with her classmates.

“Just.. so glad you guys fit right in. Suuuper cool.”

As we all know, Uzi certainly isn’t the most popular girl in school (which btw… relatable imo). In fact, Rebecca had said that she was “super unpopular” when she (well, the top half of her anyways, hehe) reunited with a few drones, whom I’m assuming are her friends.

Uzi doesn’t fit in. She’s like an outcast to her classmates. The “freak” of the bunch. She stands out from the rest of them.

“… You freak us out.”

“But mostly bite me!”

(I’m sorry, I wanted to include that second part here, whether it was relevant or not pfbt. Anyways.)

And it’s not just her classmates that practically outcasted her. Hell, her own father left her to be murdered by the same kind of drone that took away his wife (well, technically, the same kind of drone that struck her with nanite acid, leading to him putting her out of her misery, according to himself from the pilot, but anyways). Now, he may have been too terrified to take action and save his own daughter, possibly reliving the trauma of what happened to Nori. He probably couldn’t fathom having to do the same thing he did to his wife to Uzi. But it still does not justify leaving her, his own daughter, for dead. That is a really shitty dad move there, Khan.

(Or I could be overthinking on that part, and Khan could just be a really shitty father, but anyways)

The way Uzi may have taken it, was that he prioritized his precious doors over her. Having put up more doors to keep himself, and everyone else in the bunker, safe from drones like N. She wasn’t important enough to be saved at the moment she needed him most. Her father- the one who’s supposed to have her back, no matter what happened, the one who’s supposed to protect her whenever things go from bad to worse- had left her to be killed by a murder drone. (Possibly, I’m just spitballin here)

Once this happened, Uzi now has no one she can really trust to stick with her, no one she can rely on for support. She has no friends, barely has family; her father isn’t much like a father to her at all, let’s be honest.

(I would say Thad is the only one she kinda had, but if I remember correctly, they barely knew each other to be considered close friends in the pilot. The only reason Thad knew Uzi (or knew of Uzi) was because she’s Khan’s daughter. That was it.)

(Another thing I wanna add is how neglectful as a father Khan has been, even before the pilot. Hell, the posters that we see can speak volumes of how their relationship is. Not to mention he’s never really spent much (if any) quality time with her, too busy focusing on his obsession with doors.)

(One more thing to add: remember when Uzi told Thad one of the reasons she made her sick as hell railgun was to earn her father’s respect? …That’s just another point I wanna make about the infamous Doorman and how well he’s raised his daughter.) :)

So yeah, Uzi never really had anyone close to her in her life, meaning that she didn’t have anyone to trust, either.

Until this goober shows up.

(Or more like, he was about to kill her until she blew his head off, but that’s not the point.)

Of course, we all know they didn’t become best friends right away. Because he’s a disassembly drone, and she’s a worker drone, and… yeah.

If it wasn’t for Khan backing away from the fight and closing the door on Uzi, Uzi probably would’ve been dead right then and there. N probably would’ve killed her and everyone else without much of a second thought. However!

Considering how he told Uzi about V and J, he didn’t have the best relationship with either of them. (his crush on V seemed one-sided, at least in that flashback where V’s character was introduced? And J just straight up insulting him while stepping on him, and talking about how she’d kill him if she were allowed to.) He didn’t seem to have anyone to consider a friend either, at least mutually. For the longest time, it was just N, V, and J, doing their jobs, working together on killing the worker drones and such.

Then, what Uzi said to him about how the company treats the drones had created some doubts. N never questioned JCJenson and their motives until Uzi came along. And because of that, he almost died via a virus put in by J.

Then, after Uzi saves him from dying, and after they both stop V and J from killing the worker drones, N still stood by her side. N has never given her a reason not to trust him after that. He’s been with her the whole time after Uzi banished herself, and he’s never left her like the other drones have.

I’m thinking, after Uzi had banished herself from the colony, N could have left her on her own, he could’ve refused to let her go with him and V back to the landing pod, but he didn’t. (Not only because Uzi had encouraged him to look at the bigger picture, so to speak, but it also would’ve been out of character for N of all people (or robots in this case lol) to just deny her of joining the squad. He’s such a goddamn softy, let’s be real here.)

(Also, I wanna point out that from N’s perspective, she was the one who encouraged him to become an “angsty, rebellious disassembly drone” in the first place. If it wasn’t for her, he would never even question why they’re killing worker drones to begin with (other than to consume the oil for survival, of course). If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be out murdering. She was the one who respected him more than V or J ever did combined. (Well, in V’s case, this would be after her memories became messed up anyways. She did seem to like him when they were worker drones themselves.))

So yeah, this whole time, N has been the only one Uzi had ever really had throughout the series. N has been the only one that didn’t treat her like a freak, nor had insulted or threatened her in any way (lookin at you, V!). And most importantly, he was the only one that never left her at all. He stood by her side, he had her back, and she had his, and they stuck together, especially through the scary stuff.

So going back to episode 4, that was the first time since they’ve met that they were really separated. And the one time they weren’t with each other, Uzi had taken her solver form for the first time, and had killed her own classmates as a result.

Had N been with her while she was investigating stuff, chances of Uzi taking her solver form happening probably would’ve been really low.

Hell, this whole thing probably happened because she was alone, because nobody was with her, and she didn’t want to be left alone again, and she was scared that she was going to be left alone again after seeing N interact with the other students!

TLDR: Uzi probably has abandonment issues, and was scared the only friend she has was going to leave her like everyone else had in her life.

I wanted to make a long rant about this because it’s been on my mind off and on for a while, especially after hearing Uzi’s voice when she asks N if he’s going to leave her (god that really hurts!), and as sucky as I am with words, I wanted to try anyways. Hope y’all enjoyed. 😁😅 (and now to end this on a lil lighter note, here’s an image of a robot huggy)

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sp00kymulderr · 6 months

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part 3 - Afterburn

series masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, cursing, details of grief, survivors guilt, dealing with emotions badly, reader is dealing with death of a loved one, general sadness, kissing, m masturbation, premature ejaculation, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving). Please let me know if I missed any.

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: “Do you remember what it’s like to be happy?”

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long to post. I'm really proud of this one. If you like it please please comment and/or reblog. To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to banner/divider maker.

Joel is not the same after you return from your short shower. Your packs are waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs as he stands by the door scanning the horizon, an impatient tut leaves him.

“We gotta go, you ready?” He grunts, not even bothering to look at you.

“Joel c’mon…” You respond, your voice a little hoarse.

“Just-” Joel snaps and then sighs, finishing the rest of the sentence in a slightly softer tone “Grab your stuff. Put on your boots”

He shoulders his pack and walks out the door, waiting on the porch. You mutter your frustration. He isn’t being fair and you’re pretty sure he knows it too. You want to understand why this is such a bad thing - the two of you - but he doesn’t seem to want to even acknowledge what happened.

You sit on the sagging couch and look once more around the old house. It’s always difficult to come to these places, but somehow it’s also difficult to leave them. Someone lived here, someone loved here, someone was happy here once – you hope at least. You look around the dusty living room once more and contemplate, as you always do. What has this place seen, what kind of people called it a home? What secrets does it keep?

Those thoughts bring you to your own home too, where you’d been until the outbreak. You’d never gone back but you’d often thought of returning, seeing if anything of your old life still existed. Since you’d lost your last connection to your past.

You shake your head and pull on the new boots lacing them tight, ready to put them to the test at least. Joel is waiting for you outside when you finally make your way to him and he’s already walking, apparently sure of the direction.

You follow in silence for a while. Your feet don’t hurt as bad as before and you’re grateful for that.

“Did you ever go home, Joel?” You ask eventually, hesitant.

“Huh?” he’s only half listening to you, looking around for any signs of imminent threat.

“You ever go back to your old home?”

“No” is all he says.

You leave it at that.

The last thing Joel wants to think about is home. Home is where his broken heart is. He’d never go back there, he’d pull the memory completely from his head if he could.

There’s a lot of memories he wishes he didn’t have to have.

And now he has a new one; his head feels so all over the place because of you and your lips, your warmth, the disquieting solace he found in you. He knows he shouldn’t punish you for any of it; for what happened, for how he feels, for how he doesn’t understand his feelings. But he’s already punishing himself for everything else that’s ever happened, so you’ll have to take the brunt of this mistake.

And it was a mistake, he knows that. You don’t want him the way you think you do. He’s sure of it. It’s not about anything more than forgetting for you, for finding some distraction from your pain. He knows it too well. He’s been there. He’s still there in a way but at least after all these years he knows better than to chase that feeling. He has to keep away, help you know better too.

“Keep up” He mutters as he looks back at you, and he knows he sounds harsh but he can’t stop himself.

That deceitful monster in him wants more. He feels it. He won’t give in to it.

When you were younger you used to run free and happy in the green garden outside your house. You would spend all your time outside, climbing trees, scaling rocks, swimming in the lake by the forest. You had a treehouse in the garden and you'd climb up to it every summer night and watch the world from up there, free and happy and something more.

Alive in more ways than just surviving.

She'd been with you even then, you'd share secrets and tell stories cuddled up in your sleeping bags in the treehouse at night together. You lived for those moments when you and your best friend would live in your own world and everything else was just background noise.

Now you're climbing trees and scaling rocks but not for the same reasons the innocent child of your past would. You have to scope out the land, find a good place to stop. Joel helps boost you up to a branch so you can climb, to check out some noise in the distance of the forest, and when you snag your shirt on a twig you have this pang of gut-wrenching muscle memory of that time she fell from the treehouse and you thought for a moment of blind panic that you'd lost her.

You hate that every single thing reminds you of her. You despise the memories for making you misty eyed and weak. The more Joel ignores you as the time goes on, the worse it gets. The more you remember, the more everything reminds you of your dead best friend and the lives you'd lost to this world of horrors. Your life next, you know. That’s all there is now.

Just you.

And Joel.

Joel, who was pulling away more and more with every passing second. His hesitant gaze on you lands regretful and forlorn.

Eventually up in the tree you're able to see far enough to know there's a camp of people further down the forest, so when you’re back down Joel decides on a detour that leads you both far in the opposite direction not wanting to take any risks. Your new boots are finally starting to rub after hours and hours of walking - nothing good lasts forever. You wonder if the person they belonged to before you ever got to wear them, if you shared the pain of blisters from the same shoes. If the people in that house used to go hiking in this vast forest every weekend. You wonder if they are dead now too, or just trying desperately to survive. Are they trying to make it back to their home, to find the memories they’d left behind?

You'd go home. You would. If you ever could. It's too far now, too dangerous and too much to ever think you could make it there. Besides, what would you do when you got there? Hope you had anything of yours left? Let yourself drown in the pain of distant memories, of things you knew you’d never get back? But there were things, all these trinkets you wanted to hold to your heart now you have nothing else. Photos; pictures printed and framed or posted on your walls with sticky tack since you were a teenager. Family and friends and pets and all the things you have lost. The things you’d never, ever get back.

The silence consumes you and you think you’d rather wallow in your grief and misery back at the place where you were once happy, instead of being here where your longing and guilt are driving you to insanity with every ticking second. You miss talking, you miss having a friend. She was everything you ever needed in life, she was the only thing that had made you happy in the years since the world ended. You need that, and you know Joel won’t give you any of the things you need. He doesn’t want to know you any more than he has now. You can’t see past his actions back at the house and he can’t see you in any way other than shamefully anymore.

You don’t even know what to say to him now. So you just walk, and ignore the aching and misery consuming you whole.

It’s a few hours later and your feet are starting to bleed through your socks, because all good things must come to an end in this empty horror of a world. Joel finally decides it’s time to stop and make camp. It’s getting dark after all and there’s the opportunity for cover while you’re still under the protection of the vast forest - you’re nearly at the edge now.

“This should work” he mutters more to himself than you as he looks over the spot you’ve stopped at.

He briefly glances at you and it’s nothing but it’s more than he’s given you in hours so it makes you feel a little glint of that spark from before again. What if you just kissed him again, the way he let you before? Would he stop you? You know he likely would, but it doesn’t stop you wanting to try.

Like he knows, he’s stepping further from you acting like he’s inspecting the site he’s picked. There’s nothing to inspect - it’s a patch of mossy forest floor with a large rock on one side and what looks like an ancient tree on the other. You watch him momentarily and feel that misery all over. Touch would solve it all. His touch would solve everything just like it did before. The darkness above the trees could hold a secret if he could just give you something, a tiny thing to keep your sadness at bay.

And yet you are both wordless as you set up the small camp; no fire - that would potentially draw attention and the woods are never an entirely safe place to be - just your sleeping bags set up with an arm's length between the two like he’s worried you’ll somehow get the wrong idea if he gives you even the possibility of touching him again.

“Here” He mutters when you’re both sitting down and you almost laugh with the ridiculousness of how hard he’s trying to not even give you his gaze anymore. He hands you some of the jerky that’s been wrapped in his pack for a while. It’s dry and hard.

“We got all that stuff from the house”

“Gonna split it, when we…” He mutters without finishing his sentence.

“Oh”

When we go our separate ways. That’s what he meant and he doesn’t have to say it. He’s gonna leave you. Leave you completely alone.

“You know where you’re gonna go?” Joel asks and maybe there’s the hint of guilt in his voice but more likely you’re imagining it.

Tears prick hot in your eyes and you try to blink them away. All this time you’d done so well at not letting him see you cry; the tears from your loss and your grief had only once fallen in his sight and now you were feeling them fall down your cheeks right in front of him all because he was finally sending you on your way.

Stupid. You’re so stupid. It was only ever temporary and he’d made it so clear he didn’t want anything from you. He was just doing a sad, lost person a momentary favor but you’d lost sight of that completely after these last couple days. The way he had kissed you…the way you know it would’ve gone further yesterday if there hadn’t been an interruption…but none of it means a thing in the wake of his words.

He’s looking at you now. Of course this would be the moment he finally decides to turn those beautiful eyes back on you - you can feel the weight of his gaze on your face and you want it to be dark and lustful like before but when you look over at him he’s frowning. You sniffle and clear your throat, and finally give him an answer.

“I- I want to go home” You say so sadly and his brow knits in confusion for a moment before he understands.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Joel sounds more judgemental than he probably means to. He’s still watching you, but he never addresses the tears that are silently falling from your sad eyes.

You shake your head and sigh. Chewing on the last of the jerky for a bit and it makes you feel sick. His gaze burns you now, like it’s melting through the cold of him ignoring you all day and scorching at your flesh. Why won’t he stop staring? Why suddenly is he so intent on giving you all this attention? Does he just pity you that much?

He’s still eating slowly when you lie down on your sleeping bag, staring up at the trees and the night sky just above them. You’d spent nights like this watching the stars before - your heart pangs at the memory and you feel bile rise up in your throat for a moment before you screw your eyes shut tight enough to see the dance of colourful light behind your lids.

“Do you remember what it’s like to be happy?” Your voice is a whisper, it shakes as you shove that memory back down.

You open your eyes and turn your head in time to see Joel's sudden pained look and the shake of his head. You can feel the misery around him like it’s an aura. That only makes your heart hurt more. Damn it, why does he have to make you feel more? It’s always those eyes; he can make himself as hard and distant as he wants but his beautiful brown eyes betray him every single time

“Yeah. Well, I do. I remember. I remember living” If it wasn’t clear you were crying before it’s obvious you are now, you sniffle and wipe tears that race from the corners of your eyes into your hair.

Joel remains quiet for a while after that. Perhaps he just doesn’t know what to say, or perhaps he’s trying not to comfort you. The trees above the two of you wave gently in a breeze that rushes quietly through the forest, and the stars above them shine like they always have - unchanged by the death of this world and the screaming of your souls. Between you and Joel there is a blanket of grief and despair and both of you seem to be wrapping yourselves tighter in it at every turn.

Eventually he clears his throat and there’s a slight shift in Joel’s body, angling more towards you. It makes you bolder - like before - and you reach your hand between your two sleeping bags. Just lay it there between the two of you.

“I don’t want to remember, Joel. Not right now. I just want to feel something else”

He rubs his watering eyes and sighs deeply. He is wavering, you can tell. He’s holding back but there’s the twitch of his hands as he looks at you lying there and he slowly reaches out - rough, calloused and warm hand encompassing yours slowly. He lets out a long breath.

“It’s not gonna help. I- I’m not gonna help you like you need. Nothing’s that simple. I should know…”

“You’re scared”

“Maybe” Joel shrugs.

His hand holds yours a little tighter. You’re still crying silent tears that glisten on your face in the starlight.

“Don’t you feel alone? Don’t you just feel so fucking alone all the time? Why do we have to feel alone, when we’re here together?” You’re actually pleading now. It’s pathetic really but you just need the incessant heartache to stop for even a moment.

Joel hums low and gives you a long stare. His eyes soften more. There’s a shred more sympathy than there has been and it’s enough for your body to ignite with that burning hope just like last time.

“Fuck” He mutters, and then “Come here” and he is letting go of your hand and laying on his side on the sleeping bag, it seems reluctant but he’s inviting you to him and you’re almost embarrassed when you move in a heartbeat and close that gap between you and him.

Your breath catches when you lie beside him on your side and his body curls around yours, his arm over you and he holds your hand again. He’s warm like a comforting blanket - it feels almost like he’s protecting you the way he holds you close. It’s the closest you’ve ever been; even when he’d kissed you, when he’d touched you he’d kept a distance. You had never gotten to feel all of his body against you like this. Only in your hopeless dreaming. His breath tickles on the back of your neck and the warmth of it lingers, his heart beating steady where his chest presses against your back. He lets out a nearly silent sigh that makes you think he’s feeling the same thing as you.

You are not alone.

For a while it’s nothing, and Joel starts to think you’re sleeping. Your breathing is steady just like his and those sweet little sighs could just be the slumber taking hold. You don’t move and he’s so afraid to make even the slightest change to the position lest he starts you on that downward spiral again.

He knows it’s a mistake. Such a big mistake to let you feel close to him. It is only going to make everything worse in the long run but your words ring so true in his mind - he has been so damn alone. Ever since…for too long. He’s been alone. You draw him in like a magnet; a strange and shameful comfort that he’s denied himself all these years.

Maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe it’ll just be this, nothing more and nothing less. No guilt. No attachment. Maybe you’ll leave willingly and he’ll never once think about this moment again and neither will you. Maybe.

He murmurs your name softly and buries his face against your neck. He just wants to feel. Something. It’s wrong. He’s leading you on. But he wants to escape his loneliness just as much as you want to escape your pain.

He hears the smallest moan escape you like a breath and it makes him tighten his arm around you a little, because it brings him back to what happened before. How he’d touched you, how he’d felt you. There’s a stirring in him at the memory. You both feel it.

Joel knows you’re not asleep now, your breathing is less steady and your hand squeezes his a little.

“Don’t let me feel alone” You murmur and fuck Joel wants to let that base part of himself take control all over again.

He hesitates but only for a second.

“I won’t”

And then he’s turning your head, and he’s kissing you.

There’s a moment of guilt that rises from your chest slowly, but it’s gone again the moment your lips meet his.

It's not like the first kiss. It's not even like the kisses in the kitchen when he'd pressed you up against the fridge and touched you. It's not like any kiss you've ever felt; it's urgent and desperate but not forceful or rough - there's a subtle tenderness behind it like he's really genuinely trying to give you that feeling of togetherness you crave so much.

It makes your mind go blank after a moment, when you feel his tongue and he’s asking for a permission which you grant without a moment of hesitation. It makes you forget where you are, who you are, what you've been through.

He's good at that. Making you forget.

He's good at it all.

He kisses you harder when you open your mouth to him and it turns from tender to intense. It becomes more. More and more of him and you and it's what you've thought about all day. Like he really wants you. You're still on your side with your head turned and him over you, your back pressed against his chest and his subtle shift of hips against your ass makes your breath hitch.

Oh, he wants you. And you want him.

And what else matters?

“Joel…” you whimper. Sickly sweet and full of urgency.

“Yeah, I know,” He says.

There’s something else there, something you don’t want to hear. Something he doesn’t want to share. He shakes it away in a moment of a blink. He’s well versed in brushing away those moments. You need to learn it from him.

“I know” He says again, and he kisses you once more. Your lips lock in a moment that fans the flames that have been burning all this time; these weeks the two of you have been traveling together, these moments you have been sharing that are more than just moments. He stokes the coals of your desire with his mouth on yours and then down, down. To your cheek, your jaw, he’s over you and pressing you on to your back half on the cold ground as his lips meet your neck and you keen in some kind of desperation to be alight with his touch again.

Your hands traverse the broad expanse of his chest, clinging to the rough fabric of his shirt as he kisses the spot right under your ear that makes your soul leave you for a moment.

“You won’t stop this time?” You ponder, looking for a promise

“No”.

Simple, straight. Joel. He needs it. You know it’s been a while, you can tell by the way his hot mouth latches on to your soft flesh as he ruts against you like he’s already chasing a release he’s waited too long for.

“Doesn’t mean anythin’, right?”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” you repeat.

He means it. Do you?

“Fuck” He groans, deep and guttural when your wandering hands reach lower. It’s all so urgent. There’s no moment for softness. It’s lustful and intentional and greedy. Teeth and nails and need. No moment to waste as your nimble fingers find the opening of his faded jeans and make their way inside.

He’s still exploring with demanding grunts of appreciation at the taste of your skin. He’d liked it before. He likes it more now, after the long day of toil. You’re intoxicating in all the ways he never knew how to resist.

You think he feels the same as you. It’s been so long. You can’t remember the last time you felt such intimate touch, before Joel. It’s more addicting now than it ever was back then as his fingertips dance with burning brushes against the skin under your shirt.

There are no memories. No pain. No distant threat. No trees. No breeze. No stars. Just him and you in this blank space you have created for yourselves - outside of time and reality. It is a kiss that takes away life, that takes away loneliness. His touch breathes hope into you that you’d only ever felt with…no. It’s just him and you and nothing else.

Just that.

Your fingers trace down, past where buttons are undone and the zipper is open. You touch him, a slight squeeze that makes his breath hitch so damn gorgeously you feel it in your core.

He’s big. God, he’s big and he’s hard and it’s for you. It’s for you.

He breathes out and grits his teeth as you feel him, he has to stop kissing you for a moment as you ease his pants down and free his hardened length from its confines. He’s not gonna tell you to stop. Neither of you are going to end this until it has to be ended, you know that when you look in his eyes and they are dazed with lust and desire that he’s been holding back for too long.

There’s no call for modesty here in this darkened patch of forest floor where the only sounds are the rustle of leaves and your panting breaths. He watches you with a knitted brow trying so goddamn hard to hold on to at least a bit of himself when you lewdly spit into your hand and wrap it around his thick length.

“Shit” Joel grits his teeth, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. He murmurs your name. It’s never sounded as good as it does when spoken by him like that. Your hand moves, thumb swiping his leaking tip to smear on him. He feels good in your hand, heavy and smooth and he’s already shaking.

“I…sweetheart, I can’t…”

“Yeah, you can” You shush him with your lips against his, oddly soft and caring in this moment of heady lust.

“No I mean it’s…fuck” Joel pants out, his voice a gruff whisper that tickles your skin and makes you clench “Haven’t had- I can’t fu-” words tumble from his lips to the side of your neck as he devolves into mumbles you can’t quite make out. He trembles and bites back a loud groan, before spilling warm and sticky onto your fingers.

“Sorry” He murmurs with heavy breath and it’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world from this man who has been pushing you away for what feels like eternity.

Ah, you make sense of the words now.

“Haven’t had anyone touch you in a while?” You say, biting your lip as you look at him - he takes your breath away as the moonlight catches on the glint of his eyes, the trickle of sweat down his brow. His eyes are big and brown and there’s an apology in them that you don’t need.

“It’s okay. It’s okay” You assure with a soft smile. You kiss him, a sweet peck on the lips which he returns with another. It feels almost too intimate and you know you’re falling to somewhere you can’t crawl out of.

For a beat there’s a silence; Joel zips his fly and is catching his breath after his release whilst you drag your lips from his and down to his chin then his jaw. Drowning in the scent and taste of him. He is like nothing you’ve ever known and you want to be devoured by his presence.

You’re making do with wiping your hand off on your trousers when he moves you, pressing you down on to your back fully. There’s a hunger in him. He is starved and he craves. You shiver at that; he can slip from one moment to another like a changeling. His demeanour seems to shift with the wind.

“Gonna make it up to you, darlin’” He whispers with a dark desire as he goes back to kissing your neck and his hand moves down your body and to the button of your pants. Your mind flashes back to before - the way he’d made you shake back in the house - and your cunt throbs with need for that again. For him to take away your mind and your breath and your sanity if he wants.

You need him in ways you cannot fathom.

“Oh god” You moan as he cups you through your underwear, mouth still attacking the curve where your neck meets your shoulder.

You’re ready to feel that way again. And you’re about to beg him not to tease you when he pulls his hand away and detaches from your neck.

“Joel” the whine is so needy you should be embarrassed but you’re not capable of feeling that at the moment.

He shushes you softly and finishes unfastening your jeans, as he kneels between your legs. And then he’s taking them off; your jeans and underwear pulled down to your ankles and off, tossed to the side. He’s a man on a mission, and he licks his lips as he nudges your legs apart further and looks down at you.

Fuck. You might come from the sight alone. God…is he going to…

Joels calloused hands slide up your thighs and to your lower stomach and he settles himself right between your spread legs. You can’t look at him down there like that.

“This okay?” He asks, holding on to your thigh with one large hand while the other slips up under your shirt to palm at your warm skin.

You have to let out a huffed laugh at that. It’s definitely okay. It’s more than okay.

“Mhm” You answer, lips pressed together and you look up at the stars instead of the beautiful man currently kissing your inner thigh. Before he had wanted nothing to do with you and now he seems to want everything with you, you’d have whiplash if your brain wasn’t slowly melting out of your ear at the feel of his lips dragging higher.

He’s taking it so. So slow. Palming your breast now and kissing the other thigh You’re going to combust and be left nothing but a pile of embers if he keeps this up. You need so deeply that it hurts.

You card your fingers through his hair. It’s surprisingly soft and the sensation adds to the tension in you. He grunts as you give a little tug, but you think he gets the message without you having to use your words, your words probably wouldn’t make sense in this moment.

“Oh!” you gasp.

Yes, he proves that he got the message loud and clear as he’s parting you with his tongue and licking a stripe that ends at your clit and makes your eyes roll back. He’s good.

He tastes you and moans deep at it. His tongue swipes again against your clit and your grip in his hair tightens a bit again but he doesn’t seem to mind or even notice as he explores and delves deeper. He swirls against your entrance, and then presses in for a moment and you’re going to lose it completely.

The noise of your whines and whimpers increase, a muffled cry against your hand as he moves up again and sucks against your clit with a softness which quickly becomes much more fervent when you respond well. You buck your hips against his face, so he holds one strong arm across you as he continues to alternate between using his tongue and his mouth to bring you closer.

Your mind is all but scrambled with the way you feel. You haven’t had anything like this in so long and he’s fulfilling needs you had almost forgotten you had. He’s not just giving you pleasure, he’s giving you back something you thought you’d lost. He’s making you feel on fire in every way possible; burning skin on burning skin, scorching heat between your legs and deep in your belly.

You're winding, tightening, as he continues. He delves a thick finger in to you and then another as he focuses his mouth on your sensitive bud, listening to the sounds of your heavy breath and knowing he’s doing right.

“Joel…Joel you’re…yes, like that…” You moan too loud, Joel grunts against you with a light slap to the thigh. Keep it down. Even now he’s aware, does he ever really let himself go fully?

Right, you’re out in the open. It feels like you’re in a world of just you and him…you have to try and keep some kind of sanity as he makes you see the stars behind your lids. It’s almost impossible, biting your lip to try and quiet yourself.

It’s…it’s incredible. The way his tongue moves. The crook of his fingers inside you. The pressure in you when he purses his lips around your clit. Your body is too hot, alive, more alive than you’ve felt in weeks. Too alive, all at once.

“Oh god…I’m…it’s….please…” babbles of incoherence which earn you a pinch to your skin, but he doesn’t let up on his ministrations. He doesn’t give you a chance to calm down.

Suddenly, your body ignites as the tight coil in your stomach snaps and it’s like there’s no yesterday, no tomorrow. You writhe, hips bucking, Joel holding you down and continuing until the very last moment of your orgasm. You’ve come before, of course, even if not with a partner in a while you’ve known this feeling many times and yet it’s like something you’ve never fully had before. He’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

Fuck, your eyes are shut tight as you ride out the waves. Little aftershocks that make your body shiver. You can feel him - a final kiss to your clit, another to your inner right thigh and then he’s raising up, moving away from you and you can hear him catching his own breath like he nearly drowned in you.

“Jesus” You groan, limp and a mess. He breathes out a quiet, pleased laugh and you finally open your eyes and try to adjust them to see his face again.

He’s looking at you. He’s all lines and splotches and coloured lights but he’s looking at you with something like a smile.

Everything is blurred.

The lines are blurred. What does it mean? What does that soft kiss he places against your lips now actually mean? You feel sluggish from the climax but somehow your mind is racing still despite it. The lines are so damn blurred and it’s going to make you crazy, it’s going to make you lose it all.

“Alright?” He asks softly as he helps you put on your underwear and jeans again. Where did all his uncaring gruffness go? When will it come back and how will you live when it does?

“y-yeah…I think…yeah” You mutter dumbly. “Joel, I-”

Whatever you were going to say is cut off. He lays beside you again, arm going right around you pulling you flush against his chest. Your heart won't stop racing.

“You still feel alone?” Joel whispers in a deep grumble against your ear. You can feel it come from his chest. You shudder helplessly.

You shake your head. There’s a feeling of exhaustion from the day's movement settling in and you succumb to it swiftly, resting your head down on him and letting your breathing match to his. Letting him take you over completely.

No, you’re not lonely.

This fate is worse than loneliness.

#Joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal character fiction #pedrostories #our house of flames #this is actually the longest fic I've written which is know is pathetic but uh wow go me #gideon writes

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ge0rg1ewaa · 1 year

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"They set it up!" - Neymar jr

A/n : this is so confusing and idk if it makes sense. I just wanted to post something, anything. hope u still enjoy it :)

[Third person pov]

The smell of freshly prepared pasta wafted through the corridors of the apartment. The atmosphere was soothing with a blanket on the couch & a favorite movie on the TV. The setting sun and its last rays were the only thing that could be seen through the window.

Today was Y/n's day off and she decided not to bother going out, to be honest, she wasn't in the mood either. Yesterday, she broke up with her boyfriend of a year and a half because she found out he was cheating on her. She didn't do anything all day. In the morning she went out to do the shopping, but since then she has been at her place, reading the unfinished book and finishing watching the last few episodes of the series she has been bingeing on lately.

After pouring herself a portion of the pasta, she headed to the sofa, taking her phone from the charger. The girl had not yet checked her social media, her phone flooded with messages from Instagram, Twitter and Messenger. There was nothing interesting in the internet world. There were no dramas at the moment, or at least Y/n hadn't run into them. One of the messages was from her boyfriend well ex now, Neymar jr, and read 'I'm really sorry. I promise you, I haven't done anything. You know I would never touch anyone else expect you. I love you. Baby please answer me. ' and stuff like that, but Y/n just blocked him. Less than a minute later, her phone rang. As soon as she saw that it was Neymar, she let him ring, but as soon as she realized that he was not going to give up so easily, she picked up the phone, but remained silent, letting him speak.

"Hi meu amor. I know you are there, but you are silent because you want me to speak, so I will speak and tell you everything. The other night after we won the game we went out for a treat but we got drunk and I don't even know how I got home. I swear to god I don't know the girl who was next to me. They set it up! We haven't done anything, I promise you. I know the pictures you saw don't do justice to my words, but I have a video where she is paid to lie next to me half naked. I'll send it to you so you can make sure too. Eu te amo muito. Eu nunca faria algo assim para te machucar. Você significa muito para mim. [ I love you so much. I would never do anything like that to hurt you. You mean so much to me.]" After he explained everything to her in one breath, Y/n unblocked him to send her the video. And he was right. The girl could be clearly seen haggling for the amount of money and eventually getting it, before taking off her dress and laying down next to the sleeping Neymar. But how did she get into his room?

"You can see for yourself what it's all about. I still don't know how she managed to get into my room and who helped her and why they took pictures, but at least I can rest assured that you know the truth." Neymar sighed, his red eyes filled with tears once again. He doesn't know how he let things get here. Only a day since the love of his life left him, but he doesn't know what is happening around him. At least now that Y/n had let him explain the ugly situation, he hoped she would return to his arms. He missed her, her touch, her kisses, her voice, her laugh, her presence in general. He was so deeply madly in love with her that he was ready to leave his family and end his career for her, and we all know how important family & football are to him.

He was just about to hang up the phone when her soft breaking voice called. "Ney, im so sorry. I should have let you explain earlier, but because of my stubborn head, I didn't and hurt both of us. I wish I could hug and kiss you. I miss you." Y/n said, her voice quiet but understandable. She knows that's not possible because of the miles that separate them every day.

" Se você descer e sair, seu desejo pode se tornar realidade. Se você descer e sair, seu desejo pode se tornar realidade. " [If you go downstairs and go outside, your wish may come true.]" Neymar replied with a small smile that could be heard in his voice.

He was here. He was finally here. Her smile shot across her face. Y/n would finally see him. She was so excited that she didn't even bother to get a jacket and flew down the stairs, opening the front door as quickly as possible. And here in front of her stood Neymar. With his classic smile and different hairstyle. He opened his arms and Y/n ran up and jumped on top of him. Her legs wrapped around his hips, his arms around her back and under her thigh to keep her from dropping to the ground. She nuzzled her face into his neck, smelling his fresh scent & he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her shampoo, which smelled of vanilla and cinnamon.

They pulled back and smashed their lips into each other's. Their lips seemed to be made for each other and fit together like a puzzle. Ney couldn't seem to enjoy Y/n's cherry lip balm & her hands were tangled in his curls.

"I missed you and I'm so sorry I didn't believe you at first." Y/n whispered, forehead pressed against Neymar's.

" Tudo está bem agora. Eu te amo." [ Everything is good now. I love you.]

" Te amo mais." [I love you more.]

#neymar imagines #neymar one shot #neymar jr imagine #neymar stories #neymar fanfic #neymar x reader #neymar fluff #neymar jr x reader #neymar imagine #football imagines #neymar psg

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chronically-ghosted · 8 months

Text

Second Base.

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 3712

summary: you try out second base; hand stuff only, but it changes things between you two, as much as you don't want it to.

warnings/tags: cute little outfits designed to drive max nuts, hand jobs (m and f receiving), more blood, fangs, one emotionally unavailable vampire

a/n: this contains one of my favorite lines i've ever written!

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Second base.

Because you aren’t actual sadists or masochists, after the first bite, your sex life with Max went back to normal. Well, as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night ever was in the first place. Okay – as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night who is Max Phillips ever was in the first place. Which is to say, often, hard, and loud. It had been weeks since you’d seen that worried look of consternation, that sweet vulnerability he expressed, as if feeding on you might be the thing that kills you and not being railed against your couch for the better part of an entire day. Sometimes you wished he had much respect for your ability to walk upright as he did your jugular vein.

On some level, you were aware that his recent overexuberance was in part due to that vulnerability. As if you might lift the curtain and find that the man behind it all might leave you wanting. Truly a frat boy at heart, Max struggled to express anything that couldn’t be summed up with the three “ings” – licking, sucking, and fucking, obviously – but now, he had been exposed as someone capable of those deeper feelings, as if he had been the one to split open a vein for you. And despite the heavenly glow you indulged in after the first bite, you really weren’t quite sure how you felt about it all. You hadn’t started dating Max with any illusions about who exactly he is. In fact, you might have started fucking him in the first place because it seemed wildly out of character that he or you would get attached at all – to anyone or anything. The dating thing just sort of happened, when you both came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time: no one else was really doing it for you, so why not? So what if you only directly referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend in the privacy of your own apartment, or his? So what if half of the office was entirely clueless about your relationship and the other half was actively placing “secret” bets about how long you two had been fucking? Annoyingly, Tim had been the one to be almost right: “six months ago, I’m telling you, man. That’s when he stopped eating secretaries and she got so much nicer.”

Technically, he stopped eating secretaries about a month into your relationship, and what Tim accidentally overheard was not him “eating” a “secretary”, but you weren’t about to correct him. But Max found it all hilarious: “he’s right, you’re so much nicer when that pussy has been taken care of. But I like it when you’re mean.”

You actively choose not to think about what he meant by a “deep emotional connection” last time.

Fine, Phillips, I’ll show you how mean I can be.

“Nope, no, uh uh.”

You put your hand just over the frilly blue lace on your hip. “I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem.”

It had been about a month since first base and while Max had gotten notably more relaxed around you seeing him eat – he now occasionally walked around your apartment with his food in an opaque smoothie tumbler with a straw – he was still very strict about moving onto second base.

Which, if left up to him, meant you’d be wearing a straight jacket and thick flannel pajamas.

“Max, if we’re ever going to do this thing for real, you’re going to have to get used to seeing me naked. I’m not letting you fuck me and bite me while I’m in riot gear.”

“Okay, but, baby,” he whines and he can’t help himself from rubbing the satin bow above your crotch between his fingers. “You look like a birthday cake.”

Is the baby blue lingerie with a strapless bra that catches around your biceps with white lace a bit overboard? Yes. But last time was ridiculous.

Max frowns, his visible pout morphing into something subtly dangerous as he realizes he can unpeel your bra with a string in the back. “Can’t I just fuck you normally in this and then we’ll try again later?”

You swat his hand away as it sneaks across your ribs.

“No.”

“You know, if I wasn’t already dead, I’d think you’re trying to kill me.” Smirking, he drops his hands down to your waist and, not so subtly, curves them around the mold of your ass. Distractedly, he slips one finger under the seam of your panties. You press your hands against his chest and blink up at him coyly.

“Whatever gave you that impression.”

He shakes his head, squeezing your ass once. “And I’m supposed to be the soulless demon with a heart of darkness.”

“So you’ll do this?”

With a sigh and his eyebrow jumping, he nods. “Yeah. Fine. Go get on the bed.”

Trying desperately not to squeal, you tear away from his arms and all but run and leap on top of the white towel. Max slips out of his shoes, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You bite your lip, nerves humming in anticipation, as you sit up on your knees to watch him. To your enormous dismay, no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much spit or cum you used, you could not make him purr again. You’d had wet dreams on the idea alone of putting your head against his chest as he vibrated but he swore it was involuntary. “And,” he added as a way to soothe your ego, “I’m pretty sure it can only happen when I’m feeding.”

“Does it happen every time? Like with blood bags or back when you hunted people?”

“No,” was all he said about that.

Max slips his shirt off over his shoulders and goes to work unbuttoning his pants. When they slide off his hips, you frown.

“The boxers with the hole in the waist? Ooh, baby, I’m so turned on when you make such an effort.”

He rolls his eyes as he climbs in next to you. “Look, I didn’t think you’d be seeing my underwear and I need to do laundry.”

“You didn’t think I’d see your underwear in a situation where we’re going to specifically jerk each other off?”

Attempting some version of contrite, Max’s gaze falls from your face to your throat, to your clavicle, to your tits, pillowed up for him beneath the blue lace. He leans in as if pulled by magnets.

“I’m sorry if I thought we’d both be a little more preoccupied.”

His broad palm smooths across your thigh, around your hips, to just above your tailbone, his nose drawing indistinct lines from your shoulder to your ear. You sort of hate how quickly he can make you not irritated with him. You shift to take him into the cradle of your thighs, when he winds your panties up in his fingers and tugs. The gossamer material tightens just over the seam of your pussy, teasing your clit, you choke. That heated, teasing Max Phillips smirk spreads like hot butter across his lips.

“What are the rules again?”

“Max,” you whine as you drag your nails over his chest and up his shoulders. But he hesitates, his hand knotting your underwear in his fist. One move and it’ll rub against you again.

“I’ll stop,” he murmurs in a half-sing-song voice. You huff.

“Silver. Bad touch, on your skin. Lightheaded or dizzy, I use the safeword. And,” you sigh. He’s so painfully handsome sometimes it hurts. He’d set out candles again, as if he needed any help in his seduction of you and he just sort of glows. You don’t know if it’s your anticipation or some vampire illusion, but every line on him is blurred. Soft, as if he doesn’t have your pleasure literally in his hands. There it comes again, that small bit of light in his eyes, the emergence of the early morning sun over the horizon. The way he looks at you makes your chest heavy. “And . . . only hand stuff,” you grumble.

He chuckles, pouting at you in faux-sympathy as he reaches out, other hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Only hand stuff, she’s so sad about it,” he whimpers into your cheek with a high, mocking voice.

Your fingers dig into the skin on his chest, daring to hold him away as he goes for your mouth. “I swear to god, Max –,”

In one single fluid motion, he pushes on your tailbone, and swings your hips forward as he tackles your mouth with his own, effectively yanking you under him. You huff in surprise, before pulling away to find menace and glee in his eyes. Grins again as he nips with flat teeth on the curve of your neck.

He plants wet, hot kisses across your chest, heat blooms against your ribs and tunnels down between your legs, as he tongues the softer places along the hollow of your throat, then up the other side of your throat, teasing your earlobe.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “that was mean. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Pressing your chest up against his, knowing he can feel the squish of your tits, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. His hard cock rubs up against your seam and he lets loose with a muffled groan into your mouth. You roll your hips once with him between you and he turns his head to your jaw, as you both pant at the sensation.

“You know exactly what I want.”

His teeth graze you gently. This is an exercise in restraint for you as much as it is him. Given any other night, you’d have his pants off by now, on his back, or behind you, but you refrain. You can’t squeeze him like you want to and that only frustrates you more, makes you heated and ruffled, makes you want more of his skin on you, around you, as if he could smother you. You want to merge your bodies. Your knees dig into his ribs.

He whispers something, too low and fast for you to catch it, but it ends broken and uneasy as if you’re touching something delicate within him. Bending back with one hand, Max reaches between your legs and cups you, one finger barely pressing the wet material back inside you.

“Was this waiting for me under all those layers?” You nod as he pushes deeper, your mouth dropping open. He kisses your chin, before tucking his head under your jaw again. “No wonder you were burning up.”

He inhales as if his face was pressed right up against your cunt, two fingers rubbing up and down over that sodden material. It scraps against your clit and it burns. “I could eat you. Just like this.”

“Max, c’mon–,”

“I know, baby, I know.”

Smearing that pink little bow with the smell of you, he dips his hand under the line of your underwear, past your damp curls, and soothes your overheated sex by filling it with two thick fingers. You arch, brow furrowing, mouth open, fingers clamping down around his shoulders, arousal crawling up your spine, higher and higher the deeper he goes. Max likes the build up, the tease, it’s why his thumb only hovers above your clit, the heat doing half the work for him, as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching almost embarrassing. Behind his hand, his hips swing in time. He groans, deep, into your ear, breathless.

“Could come like this, baby, could come right like this.”

The bend of his cock bumps the back of his hand as he thrusts against nothing. You hitch your pelvis up, opening wider, pussy easier within reach, and you forgo any teasing for him, hand sliding right past his boxers, molding your grip around him. He’s hot and leaking all over your fingers.

“‘Ngh . . . shit, baby.” The arm holding him up shakes. You want to lick the salty precum but there has to be a rule about that, right? If you aren’t so desperate for that final fuck, you would have been a bit more careless. His fingers inside you press up into the places only he knows can send you into oblivion, as if grateful for tearing him apart. His wrist flicks quicker, faster into you, fingers plunging deeper, up to the knuckles, bouncing you as if you were on his cock. You match his speed with your own hand and Max hums, a dark sound verging on distressed.

You bite your bottom lip, eyes drooping, the rocking motion scraping against your pleasure again and again, like a match scratching against the box one stroke at a time. “Maaax –,” He adds a third finger and you keen, high-pitched and desperate, the width stretching you out for a cock he won’t let you have. You grind against his fingers, the bounce knocking loose every sane thought in your head.

Opening your eyes, you realize he’s been staring at your tits this whole time. His chest warm and glowing with sweat, his eyes track every bounce and jiggle, the cups of your bra putting them more on display than if you held them up yourself.

“Where do you want it, darling?” His voice is strained, softer than it should be with your cunt sucking up his fingers.

Max Phillips doesn’t do cutesy nicknames. Not during sex, not ever. Your his slut. His monsterfucker. Not –

Your already unspooling mind struggles to grasp at darling before it slips away.

His cock is throbbing against the palm of your hand. If you could see it, it would be flushed red, the vein at the base protruding. You pump him faster and his hips stutter. He’s so close and so are you.

But he’s not talking about that.

“On my tit, Max. Bite me on my tit.”

With a groan that is all growl, all tension and feral hunger, his arm collapses and he sinks his weight against you. He manages to get his hand out, but yours is still trapped there, pinned between your tender cunt and his painfully hard cock. You writhe. “Max–,”

His kiss against your lips is a starving sort of one, one that steals the breath from your lungs, wiping any lingering ache temporarily from your body. He licks the inside of your mouth, swallowing the moan that races from your throat into his. It’s all need, desire, a blistering familiarity that you didn’t realize existed between you two. He’s trying to say something with this kiss.

He doesn’t give you long to read into it, as he pulls back, sinking more into his knees as he mouths the skin under your neck, above your clavicle bone, and in between the valley of your tits. His weight shifts off you, enough to pull your hand out. You arch, pushing your chest deeper into his mouth, using the back of his neck to pull you higher, he groans and licks, and you yank the tie of your bra behind your back.

“Max, you can –,”

His hand claws at your cups, mouth consuming yours again, the ropes almost stinging your back as they are ripped so fast across your heated skin. Before you lie flat, his hand cups under you, fingers pressing into where the threads burned and forcing you to maintain that bend in your spine.

The moment is coming. You can feel it. It’s different from a rising orgasm, or the first time he ever sucked your nipple into his mouth. Your lizard brain is sending off warning flares, but you ignore it once again. Those flares arc and bend, your arousal now fire hot.

His tongue pressed flat, Max draws a long stripe of spit from under your breast, over the weight of it, and up your nipple, where he swirls it between his teeth. Whether Max Phillips was an ass or tits man depended on the day of the week, or whatever was blowing in the air, but he laved attention onto yours like they were the first pair he’d ever seen in his life. The skin on your other breast shines from where his fingers mold around it, smearing your wet juices all over your pebbled skin. He switches over and laps up that smell off you.

He’s wavering, caught between drawing it out and doing it so instantaneously he might black out and miss the whole thing. Your heart racing, skin almost too sensitive, you feel like you might shudder apart.

“Max, please –,”

He chooses the second approach.

Without warning, his fangs spring out and he latches onto the skin near the valley of your chest on your right breast.

You yelp in surprise, pain and pleasure zigzagging like rough scissors from his bite out through the rest of your body.

Okay, that hurts.

You gasp, bucking, yanking on his hair. “Baby, baby, gentler, be gentle–,”

He swallows and the ache lessens. Hot blood pools out of the spot where his fangs punctured you. It runs warm then cold, teasing like a feather, as it rolls down your stomach. It’s not a lot, but it's more than last time. It stains his chest too.

Slowly, that same sort of miraculous fog sinks down into your bones. The grip on his hair eases, softens, and soon you are petting him against you.

You swear you feel his fangs scrape your heart.

“That’s good, Max, that’s so good.” Your eyes roll lazily in your head and you nuzzle his hair. “God, how does this feel so good?”

As though determined to remind you he is more than just fangs, his hand pulls away from the mattress and slides back between your legs. You feel only one finger brush against your folds through your underwear – you’re almost disappointed, go back to using three, Max –

His finger plunges deep, deep inside of you, and you gasp, feet scrambling against the towel, as a swell of pleasure almost smothers you in an overwhelming wave. You nearly choke from the force of it. You were so overly sensitive but the gooey haze didn’t let you realize it until it was too late. You come hard, harder than you thought possible, seeing eons of galaxies and stars behind your eyes, with just one of his fingers inside you and his thumb distractedly circling your clit.

He feels you gush around his hand, wetting his wrist, and with a moan you can feel in your ribs, he spills in his boxers, the spend running down his thigh and smearing on yours.

Your entire body goes slack, as if someone had made all your bones disappear. His hips jerk slightly as if his orgasm is still trying to wring him dry before he stills and plucks his head from your chest, unplugging his fangs from the holes he made.

Blood immediately bubbles up from the wound and without his fangs there, it spills freely and violently over your tits, your ribs. The whiplash between your orgasmic high and a full-body weakness sends hot nausea swooping into your stomach and the room spins.

“M-m-ax,” you murmur, barely opening your mouth, your voice weak and thick as if stuffed with cotton balls.

“Fuck, sorry –,” you can’t quite see him clearly as he moves and suddenly there’s a warmth over your chest, comforting and heavy. The blood trickles to a stop and you breathe deeply. The darkness of the room stabilizes as you fully open your eyes. The room spins but this time pleasantly.

“Hmm, whoo, wow, ah, okay . . .”

You don’t realize he’s gotten off the bed until the mattress sags again and he’s cleaning you up with cold cotton balls.

“So, I’m going to take that mindless babbling as a good thing.” He smiles gently, but he’s holding something back. He keeps his head low like he doesn’t want you to see his face.

You wiggle your shoulders, as he delicately wipes you down. “What, you don’t wanna clean me up with your tongue? And why do you even use disinfectant – there’s no open wound.” You poke him in the shoulder with your toe. “And you didn’t even purr that time! I demand a refund!”

“Next time, okay?”

You frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just let me–,”

You sit up, the dried blood pinching your skin, and he pulls away. “Max, what is it?”

He pulls away so much, he’s on his feet by the dresser before you can touch him, the back of his arm tearing at his mouth to wipe it clean. Max is a lot of things but cold when you need aftercare is not one of them.

“It’s nothing.” The line of his shoulders is taught, tense. But he cracks his neck and takes the Gatorade from the dresser. He finally sits back down on the bed in front of you, offering the bottle to you. You take it, unease mounting, your fingers brush his, but this time he doesn’t retreat. Instead, gently, his fingertips ghost over your wrist, down the fine hairs on your arm, drop from your elbow and settle delicately on the blue material covering the crease of your hip. Where your blood had pooled, wet, and stained the blue to a deep magenta.

“I ruined your pretty underwear,” he says softly, forlorn.

You move closer to him, your knee touching his hip, but you refrain from seeking out the warmth of his hands.

“Max, I can get new ones, I don’t care about that. Please, talk to me. Did I do something wrong? Did I push you too far?”

His fingers flex around the towel, now also appropriately ruined. He shakes his head, more firmly this time. He snags his shirt off the floor, over his head, then moves towards the bedroom door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m sticky. I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna come?”

The invitation, it’s something, an encouragement you genuinely feared he might not give. Maybe it’s not you he wants to part from.

You didn’t enter into this for the emotional connection and neither did he. You have to remember that.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

He invited you. He still wants you around.

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#max phillips x you #max phillips smut #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x reader #max phillips #max phillips x f!reader #blood sucking bastards

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hyperactivewhore · 9 months

Note

If we suspend reality as Julie often does and somehow Elijah was the one having a magical kid , how do you think would the storyline go? What would be the changes

I think Elijah would be terrified.

As we have seen in the series, he basically is his siblings parent (it really bothers me that this is only "acknowledged" in the last episode and barely at that) so raising a child wouldn't be something he wouldn't know how to do. He is loyal to the ones he loves and clearly loves his family more than he loves himself.

Bringing a child, especially his own child at that, into the toxic codependent mess that the Mikaelson are would for sure mess up with him. Elijah would be skeptical at first because vampires cannot procreate and all that stuff, but this show isn't known for having a consistent canon so let's ignore it, but he wouldn't react at all the way Klaus did with Hayley's pregnancy. Once he has a way to make sure the kid is 100% his, his demenaour would without a doubt change.

I'm not really sure if Elijah wouldn't see this magical baby as the salvation of his family. We all know he saw that in Hope and he never really saw her as her own person until s5, where she was a teenager who could express herself and stuff. But again, this is his child, someone who is gonna need him for everything half of their life and someone who is gonna be dependent on him.

And that, without a doubt, would drive him away from his obsession with Klaus's redemption, basically the 90% of his character.

Elijah would be forced to drop Klaus or hit him until his baby brother agrees to not kill his child because as I said in one of my posts, Klaus wouldn't approve of his siblings loving someone more than they loved him. It would be an interesting turn in his character, because Elijah was obssesed with redeeming Klaus for his whole life (and that never happened, Hope was the one Klaus loved the most but he was never redeemed). And as we've seen in The Originals, Elijah has prioritized his niece over his brother so imagine that with his own kid.

He would form a bond with the mother of his child way more quickly than klayley did, they would be family and Elijah wouldn't be nearly as possessive over his child the way Klaus is with Hope. He would trust his family to keep his baby safe, and he would trust the mother too. Of course he would be more protective, and that would make him more dangerous.

Obviously this child would soften him, and having a baby to actually raise may make him not treat Marcel like shit and in consequence, not kill him, because he knows what it is to love someone more than himself and stuff.

Simply put, Elijah would have loved this baby more than his siblings and would have been forced to change 55% of his behavior. His child wouldn't be the mythical tribrid tho, so I wonder what their life would have been like.

(I think it would be ironic if Hope and the hypotetical kid existed in the same universe, haylijah got together and Klaus and the mother of Elijah's baby also fell in love lmao.)

#this has been in my drafts forever omg #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #hope mikaelson #hayley marshall #klayley #haylijah #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #daniel gillies #joseph morgan

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randomshyperson · 1 year

Text

Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug - Chapter Four - Series

Summary: Since joining the team, Wanda Maximoff has captured all of your attention, even if she has no idea about this. In a six-part story, you'll do your best to give her everything she needs and maybe she never thought she deserved it. Along the way, you two might end up realizing you were in love with each other the whole time.

Warnings: (+18), Friends to lovers, smut in the last few chapters, slow burn, conversations about self-love and individual worth, mentions of anxiety, past trauma, avengers being a family, canon-fix, a lot of magic. Words: 4.875k

General Masterlist || Series Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

Chapter Four - Wanda Maximoff needs a drink

"Stop that, you're distracting me."

You frown. "I'm just breathing."

"Do you have to be so loud?" Wanda retorts still with her eyes closed.

"Well, maybe, I will have pneumonia and I’m about to die and you will feel guilty for the rest of your life for fighting with me about it."

A ball of scarlet energy hits your back hard and by your meditation position and being caught off guard, you lose your balance completely and fall into the lake in front of you.

Some of the meditating masters around you look at you, but Wanda continues with her eyes closed, a small smile playing on her lips as she takes a deep breath.

"Peace and quiet, detka. Peace and quiet." She asks again, and you walk off annoyed from inside the lake, leaving her alone in the garden area to search for dry clothes.

You have been at the Kamar Taj for a few weeks now, and Wanda's training means training for you as well. The Ancient One welcomed you with open arms, and everything Wanda learned, you did too. But while you were growing stronger, Wanda was growing more confused.

There was something about her power that didn't fit there, and it was only until that day that you were left not knowing what she was.

"Miss L/N, do you have a minute?" You raised your eyes to the bald woman, shrugging.

"Sure." She led you to a private area, not caring that you were making a trail of soaking steps.

"There's something I need to discuss with you, about your friend."

You grimace. "Don't you want to call Wanda? She's meditating outside."

"I already talked to her about it." The Ancient declares surprising you a bit. "You may have noticed some change in her behavior."

You sigh. Wanda has been particularly difficult the last few days, but you thought maybe she was stressed from the training. And honestly, you were the best at tormenting her, so you didn't think anything had happened.

"Is it something bad?" You worry. The Ancient One forces a smile, stopping walking.

"Here at Kamar Taj, we look after the education of the Masters of the Mystic Arts, Miss L/N." She begins. "But our masters are not the only ones capable of performing magic."

You scrunch your nose slightly. "Yeah, like witches and all that stuff, right? Isn't it all the same thing?"

"I'm afraid not." She says seriously. "A Sorcerer is someone who borrows energy from another dimension to perform spells. Witches are born with this innate ability and draw from their own life force the power needed to manipulate magic. The practice of witchcraft is seen as unnatural, and is forbidden."

You chuckle half-heartedly. "Come on, that's kind of hypocritical, don't you think?" You casually return, leaving her in shock. "In the end, everyone is doing magic. What difference does it make where the energy comes from or whatever?"

"That's a rather frivolous opinion on the matter, but I'm going to dismiss your position for the simple fact that you've only been here a few days." She retorts surprising you with her seriousness. The woman sighs softly. "Wanda is a witch."

You chuckle shortly. "Okay. So what?"

The elderly woman does not smile. "A natural witch, Miss L/N. Not a sorceress, like us from the Kamar Taj."

You grimace, rubbing at the back of your neck. "I don't think I understand, is this a problem by any chance?"

The woman sighs impatiently. "Did you hear any of what I just said? Witchcraft is a forbidden practice in the Kamar Taj, there is nothing we can teach here-"

You cut her off with an indignant laugh. "For heaven's sake, what's that now?" You inquire. "It was you who went after her in New York! And now what you want? That she should stop studying because she does a different magic than you? What the fuck is this?"

The Elder hesitates, taking a deep breath. "Miss L/N, I'm not kicking anyone out." She tries more softly. "Wanda is a witch, nothing we learn here is any good for her. I had a vision, of a powerful creature and her name came up. Because she is a magical being, I imagined that her abilities came entirely from the Mind Stone, but that is not the case. She is a natural witch who has had her powers amplified, she does not belong here."

You roll your eyes, turning your back on her. "Great! You guys are full of shit."

The Elder slams the door before you can leave the room, and you stare at her indignantly. "Push the anger away, and listen to me carefully." You swallowed dryly but stared at her. "Wanda emanates a powerful magical signature. More powerful than anything I have ever faced, and I am centuries old, Miss L/N. She needs to learn to channel that power, or that power will overwhelm her."

You think you've stopped breathing. "I-I don't...she'll be fine. She's learning, right?"

The Elder softens her expression, holding your wrist. "Not here. You've taught her everything you can, and she's better, but it's still not enough." She says, staring at you. "Wanda's power is not pure, Miss L/N. Witches are descendants of Hecate, the goddess of the Earth but Wanda has another blessing. Something darker, more potent. She needs help, and I can't help her here."

You pull your hand back. "That's not very comforting, ma'am."

The woman offers you a sad smile. "Some time ago, teachings were stolen from us. A dark book by a dark witch. Only other witches can help Wanda, Miss L/N."

"Didn't you just say that witchcraft was forbidden?"

The Elder crosses her hands in front of her body, smiling softly. "It would be hypocritical of me to persecute other practitioners of magic just because they don't follow my customs, don't you think?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "When do we have to leave?"

"I meant what I said before, I wasn't kicking anyone out." She says. "When I told Wanda, she was reluctant. Our teachings are similar to witchcraft in some ways, and so they bring her comfort. But she won't be able to fool herself for much longer, Y/N. A Sorcerer could train for centuries and still not be able to produce a third of the power of a witch. Wanda needs to know her own nature."

You sigh, looking away, through the living room window to the gardens where she practices, seeming at peace.

"Where do I find witches?"

The old woman smiles, "They are everywhere." She jokes, before moving to write on a piece of paper an address of where to start.

She hands it to you but keeps holding it. "What else should I know, Uncle fester?"

The woman chuckles, playfully slapping you on the shoulder before completing, "With great strength, great affliction can fill one's heart. Many witches lose themselves to their power, grow unsatisfied with their limits, and lose their essence to sacrifices. Wanda will need someone to be there for her, reminding her of what really matters."

You swallow dryly, nodding in agreement. The door opens behind you, but before you leave, you turn to the Elder again. "Wong kind of invited me to Karaoke night, is it okay if we stay until Friday?"

The bald woman laughs, shoving the door in your face.

–//–

The night in Nepal was beautiful and starry above you, the street crowded around you. Wanda carried a backpack with her - It was the only thing you had with you, as the other bags were sent to the Tower earlier.

It was the last night in Nepal, and you wanted to have some fun before returning home.

"Wong said it was this way." She muttered, pointing in the direction of the right-hand corner. Everything was busy, bars, restaurants, and food carts full. You threw an arm over her shoulders suddenly, a cell phone in hand.

"Say Namastē!" That's your warning before you take a picture of Wanda laughing and hiding her face in your collarbone. She sees you send the selfie to the group with all the avengers, which makes her smile. But when you forward the photo to another number, her curiosity wins out.

"To whom...?"

"Yelena, of course." You clarify before she even finishes. You are so excited to talk about your pretty friend. "She got a safe line a while back. She hasn't gotten used to all this stuff yet, but she likes knowing I'm okay."

"Very sweet." Wanda wryly but you don't notice, distracted in sending the photo. The brunette looks around and exclaims, "How about we get drunk?"

You hesitate softly. "Hmm, I don't... I mean, I've never-"

She looks at you in surprise. "Wait, you've never had alcohol? Really? Not even for missions as a cover?"

You roll your eyes. "I have tasted alcohol, of course." You clarify. "But I don't get drunk, Wanda. Different resistance, remember? But have you?"

"Sure, a few times." Wanda retorts, arm entwined in yours to guide you to the bar. "I went out drinking with the Resistance guys almost every weekend, and Pietro would often get drunk on our birthdays. Not to mention that Sokovia was cold as hell. There was always something alcoholic around."

You smile at the information. You like to imagine Wanda like this, having a normal adolescence in Sokovia, even if it is far from the truth. It brings you some comfort that it wasn't all about war, and that she found happiness in those stolen moments.

She must know what she is doing now - and you suspect Wong is part of it - because the bar you are in has a private area behind it, and the bartender gives Wanda a gentle wave as she lets you two in.

And when you descend into this new area of the bar, the drinks on the shelves look like nothing you've ever seen, and that's when you see a sea monster drinking colorful beer out of a mug, your suspicions are confirmed.

"I don't think it's polite to stare, darling. No matter how fascinating it is." Wanda teases from your side, and you grimace softly.

"Next time you could give me a heads up. Hey, we're going to a magic bar. Be prepared." You retort and it's her turn to laugh, leading the way to one of the tables at the back.

As soon as you order your drinks, Wanda clarifies to your curiosity that Wong brought her to this bar as a welcome, wanting to impress her about the world she didn't know. It worked, and for you too.

"Do you think magic drinks will get me drunk?" You ask as the glasses are left on the table. Wanda grabs hers first, raising it to mouth height. The way she looks at you affects you more than any drink.

"I guess we'll find out." She challenges back, and you swallow dryly, thinking it best to turn your glass over before you say something stupid.

It turns out that magic drinks are not made for getting drunk - that's what regular alcohol is for after all.

Magical drinks have the most diverse functions, and Wanda shouldn't be surprised that you didn't read the menu before ordering the same thing she did.

"I feel funny." That was the first thing you said as soon as the liquid fell into your stomach. "There's something... different."

Wanda raises her eyebrow, wiping the remaining liquor from her lips with her tongue. You blink, almost able to taste it. She leans over to get a better look at your glass.

"Oh, honey, you ordered the same as me didn't you?" It's a rhetorical question, one you would have no way of answering now, too focused on how good Wanda smells. Very good. "Take a deep breath, don't panic. This is called Īgalabāṭō, something like eagle sense. I came to a magic bar to see if we could locate some witches. But I don't have super senses and you do. The drink is giving me the ability to read magical auras, but it's increasing yours to the full extent. Try to stay calm..."

"Shit, that's not good." You lower your head into your arms, feeling it spinning. You can smell everything, taste everything, and hear the sounds even of the forming in the street. Your head feels like it's going to explode.

"You need to focus on something, detka. The effect is temporary, but it will bother you as long as you're feeling it." She directs, and you gasp with your eyes closed. Wanda reaches out to stroke your wrist, and it is her heartbeat that you decide to pay attention to.

The whole thing doesn't last more than five minutes, but it seems like an eternity. That must be why the drinks are cheap - the effect is short, and people must consume intensely to maintain it.

"I'll never do this again." You mutter once you manage to open your eyes again.

Wanda lets out a soft chuckle. "It's okay, sweetheart. Just try to heed the warnings. Why don't you ask for something that will make you calmer?"

"Now I'm afraid to drink anything." You murmur. Wanda strokes your wrist and you almost miss being able to feel each touch as intently as before.

"Tell you what, go to the bar and ask the Bartender what she would recommend for a first-timer. And while you're doing that, I'll introduce myself to the witch sitting two tables from here."

It takes all your mental control not to look up right away, and then you sigh. "Are you sure you want to do this alone?"

Wanda smiles. "Wong told me that witches are suspicious by nature, but tend to be more tolerant of their own kind. Approaching an unknown witch with someone as strong as you might give the wrong impression."

"I'll go to the bar, then. Shout if you need help, but I doubt it." You offer her a wink, taking your half-full glass to the bar, and Wanda sighs before going the opposite way.

The bartender is a half-horsewoman and for a second you wonder if the effect of the potion was giving you hallucinations. Clearing your throat, you ask the question Wanda suggested and are pleased with the centaur woman's kindness in explaining to you about the drinks at the bar in detail.

"[...] I noticed you asked for the Eagle, which I would never recommend for an enhanced one." She comments, and you clear your throat awkwardly.

"How do you know...?" She gives a little laugh as she interrupts you, pointing to a picture hanging behind the bar. It's the Avengers, and you're in it. "Oh, right. I forgot I'm famous."

She giggles again, bending down to pick up a clear bottle. "Technically, since if you've had Eagle, you're no longer a first-timer, but I'm going to be nice to you. This one is called Satya hō, and it's for you to tell me exactly what you want."

"Oh, that sounds interesting." You murmur innocently, missing the glint of mischief in her gaze. Grabbing the small glass she poured, you take a deep breath. "Well, good luck to me." You say before turning a sip full.

It doesn't taste like anything, which is a little disappointing because the previous one was incredible - Probably because it stimulates all your taste buds at once. - But this one doesn't even taste like water. It was like drinking nothing.

"Fuck, I thought it would taste like coconut water." You declare with a laugh, and the girl smiles, taking the glass back.

"So honey, how are you feeling?"

You shrug. "Same as before, just a little upset that the drink didn't do me any good." You reply. "I wanted something that tasted nice. Sweet."

" All right, I've got some options for you." She murmurs, moving to grab other bottles. But your attention differs back to Wanda talking to a witch at the end table, and you sigh before turning your attention back to the bartender, who has held out some bottles for you.

"Sweet drinks are usually linked to emotions, cupcake. So we have Blue Ḍalphina, for sexual affective stimulation, this one here that's called Light Pink, to increase connection-"

"What the fuck, are they all love potions?" You cut in an impressed laugh. The bartender smiles, nodding softly.

"Technically, yes. Although love isn't really possible to put in a bottle."

You hum, looking at the jars as you mumble. "It's not like a love potion is going to do me any good." You retort. "They don't work on people who are already in love do they?"

The girl raises a curious eyebrow. "I've heard that they don't. But who's the lucky one?"

You blink away from the bottles, half confused. "What lucky one?"

She doesn't seem surprised by your confusion, licking her lips as she repeats, "You said you were in love. Is it for the pretty girl who came with you?"

You sigh, a silly smile filling your lips. "Oh, Wanda? Yes, she's pretty, isn't she? She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. Did you know that when she wakes up, her eyes are a darker shade of green than normal? And her voice is so husky and her accent is thicker..."

"Okay, Romeo, you need to tell her that not me." The bartender cuts you off with a laugh. You almost whimper in fear.

"No, I can't tell her that!" You retort. "She's my best friend, my most important person in the world. If I ruin everything, I'll never forgive myself. She's worth more than a stupid crush."

The girl sighs, shrugging. "I don't know, buddy. That doesn't sound like a stupid crush." She murmurs, and seeing your annoyance, pushes back one of the glasses gently. "How about a little courage?"

You swallow dryly, hesitating. "M-maybe not. I want to be ready for real, I don't want it to be just because of a spell."

"It's your call, sweetie." She assures meekly, and you sigh taking your eyes off the orange drink.

"What about these others?"

While you were testing drinks, Wanda was having her patience tested.

"[...] Well, baby witch, I couldn't tell you about others, could I? We are not a very open community." Wanda knew that this woman had a magical signature - Weak, even with the drinking - but still existing. Now pulling out information really was Natasha's skill. Damn, she missed her training with the widow. If Nat were here, she could figure it all out in two seconds, she was sure.

"I don't want to seem nosy, of course." Wanda tries to get into the game with forced smiles. "I've come a long way, and I haven't made any friends of my... people. If you know what I mean. When I felt your magic, I figured you could help a sister."

The witch adjusted her hair behind her shoulder. "You felt my magic, huh? Very flirtatious of you." Wanda giggled nervously, feeling her face heat up. "You're awfully cute, but I'm sadly engaged. Perhaps you'll have some chance of seducing some nymphé at the end of the bar."

Wanda swallows dryly, not quite knowing what to say about it. Luckily, a tall, lanky man approaches them to speak to the witch.

"I'll be right out, Marie, my target left the bar five minutes before us. But thanks for the tip anyway." Says the man, and leans gently toward the woman. "And keep your coven girls under control, will you? I don't hear about any more trouble outside Salem. This is Sorceress territory."

He forces a polite smile at Wanda, who tries not to think too much about the shiny dagger at his waist or the scar on his eye.

Marie, who had not revealed her name until now, immediately notices that Wanda has listened to the entire conversation intently. She dismisses her friend, and when Wanda clears her throat, making mention of getting up, she holds her by the wrist. And this time, her magical signature screeches out.

"You must be a powerful little witch." Marie whispers, studying the younger girl's face, "To be able to sense my magic with a cheap potion. But you look so lost... What's the matter sweet child, nobody claimed you for a coven?"

Wanda stammered, surprised and uncomfortable with the way Marie seemed to be mocking her. She tensed when the witch brought her fingers to her cheek. "I-I don't know any coven." She confessed and had the impression that she had no choice but to do so. Marie's dark eyes suddenly so deep in her mind, overshadowing the entire bar.

"Oh, poor little thing." Murmured the woman. "Who was it that left you alone without instruction in this anti-witchcraft territory?"

"I-I..."

"Miss Laveau, I am sorry to interrupt." It was an employee of the bar, a security guard perhaps. And he had a phone in hand. Marie moved her hand away from Wanda's face - Who started breathing normally again - but continued to hold her wrist. "It's your girls again. Some trouble I fear. A fight with Werewolves. You'd better get there before the hunters."

Marie cursed in another language, before nodding in thanks to the security guard who left. She let go of Wanda, who hugged her own wrist, to grab her coat hanging from the chair. But before she left, she leaned over to speak.

"A Coven is the only family a witch can truly have, Wanda Maximoff." She declared, and the smaller witch raised wide-eyed at her. Marie held up her hand and turned Wanda's face toward the bar with a gentle nudge on her chin. "Your little pet won't last, dear. Everyone turns their back on witches eventually."

Wanda faces her with a soft snort. "Don't talk about her, you don't know nothing-"

"I don't need to know her." Marie cuts in seriously, lowering her hands to put them in her pockets. "Witches belong to their coven, or they die. There is no middle ground, Wanda. Walk alone and you won't last long."

Marie turns around, and Wanda takes a hesitant step toward her. "How do I find one?"

The witch looked at her over her shoulder. "They find you. And I find it odd, that a witch of age remained unclaimed. Where were you hiding all this time, sweet baby?" Marie leaves her with that question, walking away. Wanda tries to follow her figure with her gaze, but she has the impression that she is still bewitched because the woman practically disappears.

She decides to put her doubts away and come back to you in the bar, maybe sharing what she has discovered will help you to have some idea.

She didn't expect to find you in such a... needy state.

"Wanda! She's here, my best friend! Hi Wanda, I missed you!" You declare excitedly as soon as she arrives at your side, wasting no time in throwing her arms around your neck. Wanda almost loses her balance, laughing confusedly and exchanging a look with the bartender, who is discreetly taking other drinks out of your reach.

"Oh, what did you have?" she asks curiously, completely clueless by the way you are way too close.

You giggle against her collarbone, before turning away to answer. "So many things! Two pinks, a blue one, a green one, even the transparent one..."

Wanda looked at the bartender. "Is that safe?"

The centaur shrugged. "She's an avenger, I suppose it is." She retorted, and the answer made Wanda's eyes glow red. The centaur cleared her throat. "She'll be fine, m-ma'am. The effect will have worn off by tomorrow."

Wanda forced a smile, before turning her attention back to you, her eyes the normal color now. "We'll get you a place to sleep, sweetheart."

The centaur cleared her throat as Wanda helped you stand. "We have rooms for rent. On the second floor."

Wanda nodded in thanks, and it was a very difficult battle to get you upstairs with the way you clung to her.

At some point, you stumbled into the room, and you somehow - Wanda was sure it was the muscle memories of the training - knocked her onto the bed, climbing all over her, and pressing your lips to her neck.

"God help me." Wanda murmured affectedly to the ceiling, her hands on your waist. You giggled drunkenly, but not traditionally.

"I am a god indeed. Glad to help." You murmur back.

Wanda chuckled, giving your waist a gentle squeeze to pull away, and she immediately regretted it, the way your dark eyes were staring back at her, it was even more disconcerting than before. "Y-you're drunk, and gods don't get drunk." She recalls, her breath hitching as you put your hands on the side of her head.

"That's a myth, Thor gets drunk all the time."

"Maybe he's not a very strong god..." She tries to keep the conversation going, her eyes closing on instinct by the way you are leaning in.

"Oh, blasphemy." You tease lowly against her lips. And the rubbing is enough for Wanda to regain what little consciousness she still has left. She turns her face away, and you kiss her jaw, grunting in frustration on her skin. She gasps, taking advantage of your shock to push you onto the bed and stand.

"You're bewitched, Y/N. You need to sleep." She rations, but you whimper against the pillow like a child before turning your face to her, almost whimpering.

"But I wanted a kiss."

Wanda giggles nervously, her cheeks burning. "Detka, we can't kiss. We're friends."

You huff. "That's not fair. I won't be your friend then, I'll be your detka. Just your babe."

Wanda's heart inflates with warmth before it breaks. She assumes, immediately, that this is the potion speaking. Swallowing the emotion away, she tries to coax you to sleep.

"You are my detka and my friend, but I need you to sleep. Can you do that for me?"

You begrudgingly close your eyes. "Yeah, I can do anything for you. Anything you ask. Because you are pretty and I love you."

Wanda chokes softly, twiddling her fingers. "Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"How do you love me?" She tries, and you hum again, by the time she goes to repeat it, you have fallen asleep judging by your deep breathing.

Wanda breathes in and out, trying not to panic. She loves you, of course. Friends love each other. And of course, you do too.

Fuck, since when have you looked so gorgeous in your sleep?

Wanda leaves the room with labored breathing. She goes back to the bar, looking for something to help her stop shivering.

–//–

"Looks like you two had a fun night."

You and Wanda grunted in distress at Clint's teasing. Everything seemed so loud and clear.

"How did you find us?" Wanda managed to ask, pushing the top cover off her body that covered more of the chair than her. You hid your face under the pillow. The archer shrugged.

"Wong mentioned this place when we knocked at his door, and when you guys didn't show up for the meeting point, Nat and I did a little searching. She's having the time of her life down here, but I reckon I'm too old to deal with mythological creatures."

"I'm dying." You complain on the mattress, your head bursting with pain. "Somebody do something."

Clint laughs. "Wow, you have a hangover? The first time is really the hardest. How did you manage to get her drunk, Maximoff?"

Wanda shakes her head softly - regretting it - and retorts, "She mixed magic potions, I had nothing to do with it. Where you guys left the quinjet, I can't wait to get home and use a bathtub."

Wanda tickles your feet on the way to the door, effectively making you laugh and awaken begrudgingly. She pushed through the bitter feeling of ignoring yesterday's events for the sake of your friendship and nodded to Clint as she said she was going to find out if a magic bar had aspirin.

You sat up in bed and frowned as you touched your shirt over your chest, unbuttoned and without a bra.

Clint raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay there?"

"Fuck I don't remember anything from last night. You don't think me and Wanda..." You looked back at your bra on top of the chair where she was sleeping and chuckled nervously. "N-no, no chance. We didn't... I wouldn't have forgotten. I didn't-"

"Wow, that's interesting gossip." Clint sneers, laughing when you threaten him with a pillow. "Hey, don't take your frustration out on me. And by the way, know that it's quite possible to forget. What did you drink anyway?"

"Everything." You mutter in shame, sinking your face into the bed, "Kill me, I won't live with this humiliation."

"God, I forgot how dramatic you are." He mutters wearily. "Let's go home, okay? We have a visitor in the tower."

You move your face, raising a curious eyebrow. "Who?"

Clint smiles, "The only true god of the group of course." He teases, and this time you throw the pillow in his face.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff needs a hug

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