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childotkw · 1 year

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First, let me apologize for the size of this monster ask. Sorry.

The POTC fic ate my brain. I can think of nothing else now. Just... the sheer possibilities, ya know?

With Tia Dalma, I always thought Jack, though fond and always respectful, was mindful to maintain a certain distance between them, careful to not pay any offence. With fem!Jack though I see their relationship being much, much closer. Close as sisters perhaps? Or even a mother-daughter relationship (where is Jack's mother in this AU? Still a mumified head being carried around in Teage's pocket?). How does she react to Jack's deal with Davy Jones? Is she mad that her former lover is once again trying to chain a woman to his side? Or does she laugh, because the man has clearly not learned his lesson?

And Davy Jones himself is a whole other can of worms. Does he look at this bright, wild young woman, clearly favored by Calypso, and wants to claim her as the best addition to his crew in decades or simply as a way to get vengeance on the goddess? Or worse, does he look at her and think of a child that never was, a bittersweet what-if that could have been if only Calypso had waited for him on land all those centuries ago...

As for Barbossa, I want to see this man have Regrets (TM). I want him, cursed and desperate, to see Jack alive and well after abandoning her on an island and feel... things. Outrage, anger, disbelief. Amusement. Immense relief. Want him, back and alive again, to long for that short, fond, teasing 'Hector' instead of the cold, indifferent 'Barbossa' that greets him everytime. Does he lie awake at night, a part of him, no matter how small, yearning for that time when he sailed the Black Pearl under the banner of the Captain Jack Sparrow?

And Becket and Salazar! I have no words for these two, everything about their relationships with Jack fascinate me.

In the movies, the tension was THICK between Jack and Becket. I always thought those two had Real Respect for each other in the beginning. Jack who thought he had found a Actual Good Man to work under. Becket who thought he had found someone who, with a little time and polishing, could stand just behind him at the top of the world, the closest to an equal a man like him could get (tolerate?). Which really, only makes the betrayal from both sides even worse. Jack, who finds out the man he thought was good was actually even worse than the scoundrels he grew up with ("People aren’t cargo, mate"). And Becket, who finds out his little protégé, whom he had such high hopes for, actually has morals and a free will that don’t (and never will) align with his plans/worldview.

I wonder, with this fem!Jack au, were there rumours of Jack being the future Lady Becket? I wonder, later, after all's said and done, when Jack is tied to a burning ship with Becket looking on in the distance, is there a ring somewhere on Jack? On Becket?

And even later, when whispers of the Black Pearl start cropping up in the docks and inside darkned pubs, along with her Captain, does Becket have to sit down (with anger? Relief?) or does he stand and stares out the window of his office, towards the wide open sea and tries to imagine where his wayward (friend, enemy, lover? His, certainly) pirate is and how he might get her back, this time permanently

... did this just turn into a Davy Jones and Calypso ver. 2.0??

As for Salazar, I loved the idea of him from the get go. After we got the backstory of his and Jack's first (and last) meeting I was gone for this spanish ghost. The chase, the obsession. The way this encounter marked and changed both of them, one literally died and had to spend decades waiting in purgatory for a chance at revenge while the other spends this same amount of time forever know by the name coined by El Matador del Mar, the Spaniard's little bird who flew away...

Does Jack being female in this AU change anything for Salazar? In the minutes before being tricked and killed, did he think of her less as a pirate and more like a young woman led astray, perhaps even forced into this life? Does he think of himself as a savior for Jack (lol)?

Also. I'm all for a threesome happening between Jack, Elizabeth and Will. I think they deserve a threesome.

No don't apologise - this is great!! I'm glad I'm not the only one who's excited for this one 🤣 I'm going to break this up so I can keep my replies on track!

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For Tia Dalma and Jack - that respect and wariness is definitely still a core component of their relationship! But you're right in that they'll be a lot closer in this AU than in canon. While it might not quite be a full mother-daughter dynamic, there will be maternal aspects to how Tia Dalma treats Jack. Jack's mum is still technically alive for most of the story, even if Jack doesn't see or talk to her. Once the movie timelines come through, that's probably when I'd say Jack's mother died.

But Tia Dalma is uber pissed when she sees Jack for the first time after her deal with Jones. She goes quiet and wrathful, staring at the unseen mark on Jack's soul - the brand that shows her debt to Jones for anyone with the talents to see. And Tia Dalma mourns Jack long before she dies because even with all her power, not even she can break a soul-deep deal.

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As for Davy Jones - it's six of one, half a dozen of the other. He genuinely wants Jack's skills on his ship, and knows she's unparalleled as a helmsman. But he also is a petty, bitter man, and knowing that Calypso thinks Jack as hers also plays into his decision. It's very 'you like this thing so I'm going to take it from you' mentality. (Though I am intrigued at the potential and completely fucked up implication of Jack-as-a-stand-in-daughter. I'd need to think on that!)

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And oh do I have plans for Barbossa! He definitely ends up having something maybe like regret!

One of the things I rambled about in discord was wanting the Black Pearl crew to suffer some consequences for mutinying against Jack. After all, Jack is a Pirate Lord, and though it isn't widely known, the daughter of the Keeper of the Code. She is a good captain, respected, and generally well-liked, and mutiny is serious fucking business for pirates. A lot of people are angry at Barbossa for what he did, and in those ten years after the mutiny against Jack, the Black Pearl crew were considered persona non grata. They weren't really welcome at any pirate stronghold, and a lot of the older generation were chomping at the bit to avenge Jack.

The only reason no one did anything was because Jack, essentially, spread the word that if anyone was going to kill Barbossa, it was her. And they respected that.

And because Barbossa and his crew were scorned by most of the other pirates in the Caribbean, they didn't exactly know that Jack survived and was gunning for them.

So, the first time Jack and Barbossa see each other, his shock is genuine - as is the strange rush of adrenaline he gets because Jack's presence is still electrifying and keeps him on his toes. It's his irritation at her calling him 'Barbossa' catches him off guard, and it takes him a minute to remember that Jack was the last person to call him Hector - because he crew would never be that familiar with him - and he hates the part of him that mourns that. He had liked Jack during the brief time they had sailed together, found her engaging and brilliant, but his ambition had always been stronger than any affection he might hold for other people, and so this was where they ended up.

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And Beckett. Oh, Beckett...you're absolutely right in that the tension between them was *chef's kiss*

Even without the deleted scene, you could tell that those two had history the second Jack stepped in the room. And I think, for me, the most telling aspect that these two knew each other and knew each other well was that Jack didn't even try to be a fool in front of Beckett. Yeah, sure, there was some joking and posturing - but it was so half-hearted in comparison to other interactions Jack has.

Jack's masks were stripped back when speak to Beckett, and I find that fascinating. So, in this AU, there will definitely be a hell of a lot of implications between them.

There's respect, naturally, and an acknowledgement that they're intellectual equals. Beckett doesn't underestimate Jack (as even Barbossa and Will and Elizabeth are still prone to do despite knowing Jack's track record), and Jack doesn't insult Beckett by pretending to be something she's not.

But there's also that very acute bitterness and betrayal between them. Because Beckett tried to turn Jack into something she wasn't, tried to get her to compromise on her morals, and he burned her ship; and Jack broke Beckett's belief that he'd finally found someone who could understand and accept every facet of his being.

There's disappointment as well - that their partnership didn't work out. Because they had liked each other, and admired each other, and though they never progressed beyond a 'professional' relationship, Beckett knows that if he were to marry a woman it would have been Jack.

And that sense of ownership Beckett has over Jack is incredibly dangerous - because in his eyes if he can't be the one holding Jack's leash, than no one could. Jack was too big a threat to remain free, so she had to die.

It's all very poignant. Behold:

And Jack knew what men typically wanted from her. They saw the wildness in her dark eyes and the tangles of her hair and the freedom in her blood and it made them itch. It made them want a taste of it for themselves - or drove them mad enough to want to take it from her.

Put her in a cage and clip her wings and to crow as if they had tamed the sea itself.

But Beckett was different. He didn’t want to tame her. He was too clever to think he could. That anyone could chain her for long.

No.

Cutler Beckett wanted to break her, if only so he could put the pieces back together in the way he wanted.

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For Salazar, I don't think I'd change it much from canon. I don't think Jack being female would change his perspective much. He'd still be enraged at being beaten as he was by this slip of a pirate girl. The obsession would remain, the impact they had on each other would remain - Jack as the ultimate 'prey-that-got-away', and Salazar being the one that completely redirected Jack's path in life, propelling her into captain-hood and giving her her name.

Either way, they haunt each other.

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And for the ship - there might be elements of Jack/Elizabeth/Will, but it's not gonna be a prominent thing, unfortunately. I already have a main pairing in mind for Jack for this one 😂

(And no, it's not Norrington.)

#anonymous #PotC #embrace the wild (face your fears)#female jack sparrow #thank you for sending this in!!#I had so much fun responding 🤣

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 days

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Winter's King 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: it's saturday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You follow the king into the great hall. Despite the sun beaming in through the open doors and the chirping of sparrows from the courtyard, it is a dour affair.

King Geralt marches across the hall as you stand by a tall candelabra near the door. It remains unlit as the summer lights much of the space through the long windows and broad doors. He approaches the bishop in his robe and sash and points the man with a terse grunt. Lord Dustan and Lady Rozlyn stand behind the cleric, looking fraught.

“Where is the bride?” The king growls as his golden eyes skim the stone walls.

“Your highness, we’ve just called for her--”

“She is aware of our impending nuptials, she would keep her betrothed waiting?” The king rebukes, “you summer souls and your flimsy spines.”

The duchess twitches in offence but does not rebuff the insult. The wine has subsided well enough to allow her some sense. Lord Dustan’s lips press tight and he claps.

“My daughter, at once,” he hisses in your direction.

Before you can turn on your sole, the king grunts, “fetch her yourself. How can I trust you to keep my kingdom in order if you cannot bring the same to your own house?”

“Yes, your highness,” Dustan blanches, “it was only I thought it would be swifter to send the maid.”

“It would be swifter if you stilled your tongue,” King Geralt barks.

The duke recoils and hurries off. Your eyes meet the king’s and he gives a slight tilt of his head and you resume your plaintive stance. Lady Rezlyn looks him up and down before she withdraws her gaze and instead focuses on the portrait of her husband’s predecessor.

The air grows stagnant as you wait. When at last a stirring comes from above, the king is gripping the dagger on his belt. He is not impressed with the delay.

“Father, I am here, I am here, unhand me,” Lady Jazlene blusters in ahead of the duke. She wears the red and ivory and matching ribbons have been braided into her curls. She has several necklaces piled around her neck and her hands are adorned in tones of silver and gold. “I am ready,” she sighs as she approaches the bishop and face the king, “it is not the wedding I dreamt of but for a king, I might settle.”

King Geralt’s golden eyes narrow. He looks through his bride and she wavers on her feet as she reaches for him. He does not offer his hand nor his arm before he faces the bishop.

“The vows,” the king demands flatly.

“Er,” the bishop falters and searches the chamber.

“Where is the writ?” The king hisses, “do you not have a scribe?”

“Here, your highness, here,” Dustan waves to a squire waiting near the outer doors. “It only requires ink and seal, after the vows of course.”

The king exhales hotly and faces the bishop again, signaling with a curt flick of his fingertips. You only then notice Merinda across from you, she must’ve followed the noble daughter in. She exchanges a glance with you, she is not more amused than King Geralt.

“Ahem,” the bishop adjusts his tall cap, “let us begin. We commune here today to--” The king waves his hand dismissively and the cleric flinches. “Hm, uh, sir, your highness, my lord, King Geralt, of Rivia and the Hinterlands, and the Summer countries,” he stutters as his eyes droop, “do you swear, by the sacred rites and the laws of the realm, to take this woman in blessed matrimony? To attend to your duties as husband and keeper, until death?”

The ceremony is as brusque as anything the king does. He does not have time or patience for the pageantry or prolonged talking. His shoulders rise with his breath and he heaves out, “I make this vow.”

“And, Lady Jazlene, daughter of Debray, do you swear, by the sacred rites and the laws of the realm, to take this man in blessed matrimony? To attend to your duties as wife and servant, until death?”

Jazlene sniffles and makes a show of blotting her face with her sleeve. Her mother blubbers from the side and Lord Dustan hushes her. Their threatrics are almost humourous amid the solemn air. King Geralt rumbles and stares over the bishop’s head.

“I... I make... I make this vow,” Jazlene bawls and pulls out a handkerchief from her bosom. She covers her nose and wipes away her tears. “I shall love the king and serve him better than any w-w-wife.”

The bishop hesitates as he looks between the bride and groom. He nods and beckons forth Lord Dustan, “so we will seal this marriage in ink and wax. Sign your names and let the royal stamp be applied to set in bond your fates until the black night sees you to rest.”

Dustan comes forward with the parchment and signals to another unseen figure. A servant brings forth a quill and well as the contract is laid out on the table near the wall. The king approaches as Jazlene weeps at his side, trailing after him as she trembles. The king signs first, with a slash of the quill, then Jazlene barely keeps hold of the pen as she loops her name across the rough surface.

She drops the feather and fans herself. She looks around, preening, and grabs onto the king’s arm, “so we are married.”

He doesn’t react. He turns without acknowledgement as she stays latched on, pulled forth by his easy strength. His gaze touches yours as you watch the strange and strained scene. This is unlike any wedding you’ve ever seen, though you haven’t seen a noble one in all your life. Only the whispered vows of servants behind the stables or in the meadows. Those ones that are only written in spirit.

His eyes quickly flit away and he sets his sight on the doorway beside you. He walks forward with his bride dragging on his arm. His mail jostles loudly with his steps as his soles scuff.

“Let the marriage be consummated,” he mutters without look back, “you will be ready to travel at dawn.”

“Your highness?” Dustan stumbles forward, “dawn?”

“Husband, am I to come with you?” Jazlene murmurs.

“A kingdom must be rebuilt,” King Geralt states without inflection. “I will not rule over a resentful people, I will show them I fought for them, not against them. And you will follow through on your vows to me or find I am not so weak as that fool, King Waleran.”

⚔️

You help Merinda with Lady Jazlene’s travel chest. You pack away as much as you can; shifts, nightclothes, gowns, stockings, all that you think she would like to take with her. The sudden departure allows you little time for ponderance, you only do as you must. As ever. So is life.

“She will hate it in the Hinterlands,” Merinda scoffs, “when I served for the earl, there was a man from the Winter Isles. He was missing fingers from the cold. He told me how they turned black and fell off.”

“Then she will need to find some mitts,” you shrug as you roll up a cloak. Much of the lady’s clothes are not suited to a colder climate. She has no furs; they are not needed in the Summer lands. Midsummer through to High Summer offer little more than a cooling rain between mild to sweltering highs.

“Perhaps she should bundle up against her husband too,” Merinda snickers, “he is icy as the tundras he hails from.”

“He is a king, he has much to worry for,” you sniff.

“Mm, I suppose, though he hardly ever looks concerned for anything. Speaks even less,” she muses, “I suppose Lady Jazlene will speak plenty for both of them.”

“Queen Jazlene,” you correct her bleakly.

“Oh, he should worry for that,” the other maid chuckles again. “Though I suppose now she will have all the gowns she likes.”

“Perhaps,” you allow.

“Let us prosper here without her demands. Where it is warm and sunny,” Merinda sighs.

“It will be rather quieter,” you agree.

You carry on until the chest is near overflowing. You sit on the lid as Merinda buckles the straps. You will need some male servants to come carry it to the stables. That should wait until morning. Lady Rezlyn bid you wait in her daughter’s chamber should she emerge from the king’s.

You pack a smaller chest for her jewels and her cosmetics, and a few books she’s worn down with her fingertips, and her sewing hoops and needles. Oft, she only holds onto those possessions as she gossips with her mother. You suppose that will be difficult. When the duchess and her husband return home and their daughter must face her obligation without ally.

There are servants like Merinda who might covet gems and pretty things, but you’ve never much envied the noble type. They have overly much responsibility. You only need swab a floor or lace a dress. Life could not be simpler.

“Hm,” she hums and gives a cluck of her tongue.

You wind up a length of ribbon and put it in the chest. You feel Merinda watching you. You look up and arch your brows. “What?”

She smiles, “you remind me of him.”

“Who?”

“The king,” she tinkles with laughter, “you are both so... quiet. You never say more than you need to. I can appreciate that given who we serve but you are a hard nut.”

“I don’t have much to say, suppose,” you reply. “Don’t know very much of the king, either.”

She’s quiet as you carry on. You assume some things will need to be sent after the lady; the queen. It will be a long journey and not one which you think would entail many banquets. It’s a scary unknown ahead of Lady Jazlene, though it is overdue.

When the smaller chest is full, you and Merinda lift it onto the larger. It is late and the night hue surrounds you as only a single flame is lit. You yawn intermittently but neither of you dare lay down to sleep. You wouldn’t want to be accused of idleness.

You sit on the window bench and watch the moon as Merinda paces through shadows. You rest your chin in your hand but only for a moment as suddenly the hinges groan and cut through the din. You stand as Merinda faces the door sharply.

Lady Jazlene drifts in. The ribbons in her hair are loose and her dress is still laced tight, though her skirts are rumbled and wrinkled. She leaves the door ajar behind her as she ambles stiffly towards the bed. She turns to fall onto the bench at the foot of the four-post frame.

She doesn’t speak as she stares ahead. Merinda shuts the door as you inch towards the noble woman. She offers no reaction as you hover near her. She presses her hands above her knees and shudders out a breath.

“My lady,” Merinda speaks first, glancing at you cautiously, “your highness, would you... would you like a bath?”

Jazlene doesn’t answer. Her head moves subtly back and forth then dips again. She balls fabric in her fists.

“I did what mother said,” she croaks, “and... I was... I was aroused. I was ready...” she murmurs.

You and Merinda stand in silence. You’ve never heard the noble daughter speak so smally. She lifts her head.

“I did it. I did my duty,” she declares, “but he...” she rises and you back away as she sweeps around the bed, a hitch in her step. She goes to the mirror and leans in, touching her cheeks, turning her head this way and that, “I’m beautiful, aren’t I? Mother says, father says... but the king... the king...”

She blows out her breath and is silent. She spins and clutches her bodice. She looks down at herself.

“He didn’t even let me take this off,” she babbles, “then he just... sent me away.” She puts her hand to her chest, “a bath? Did you say a bath?” She looks at Merinda, “yes, I must wash. Wash it all away.” She clears her throat and drops her hand, rolling her shoulders, “tomorrow we must leave--” her voice catches, “I must go to my new home with my...” she puts her back to you and sits on the cushioned seat before the vanity, “...husband.”

You nod to Merinda and cross the room to meet her at the door. You share a look, one which doesn’t need conversation. Even though she’s laid with a man, your fellow maid looks distressed. You go out into the hall, pulling shut the door gently in the nocturnal dim.

“Do you think he was cruel?” Merinda asks.

“It isn’t our concern, is it? It is a wife’s duty...” you whisper, uncertain.

“It was her first,” Merinda remarks, “perhaps she was unready.”

“We shouldn’t speak of it,” you gird.

“You needn’t be so chaste,” she reproaches, “if I didn’t know her wrath, I might even feel sorry for the lady.”

“Mer,” you warn again, “let us get some water for the bath.”

Merinda chuffs, “you are so... boring.”

You walk away from her, ignoring her chiding. You don’t care if she thinks you dull. It isn’t your place to judge the marital matters of the lady and her husband. It is even dangerous to gossip over royal business. You will not chance it.

She follows. You descend and go to boil a pot in the kitchen. Merinda lights several candles as you go to work. You carry the large vessel between you. Several trips up and down to fill the large tub. Merinda undresses Jazlene as you go to return the pot.

You place it near the fire stove as the embers burn low and orange. You stand in front of it, the cindery scent tinging your nostrils. You should go back but unease lingers in your gut. The way Jazlene just stared, how hollow she sounded, you’ve never seen her like that.

The candles behind you flicker and you turn to the swirling shadows. There’s a figure just inside the doorway, almost ghostly, much too towering to be the cook. You gulp and fold your hands against your stomach.

“Hello?” You utter to what must be a wraith.

There is no answer, the silhouette merely moves towards you. You steel yourself, a scream caught in your throat. The tint of the fire stove reflects off golden irises and the king’s figure comes clearer in the night. You suck in air and steady your feet.

“Your highness,” you gasp.

“Ale,” he sneers.

“Yes, your highness, I will fetch--”

“To my chambers,” he demands, looming over you.

“Yes, your highness, ale, at once,” you go to spin and he grabs onto your arm, drawing you back. He grips tightly, squeezing as he pulls you into the haze of warmth radiating from him. Or perhaps that is the oven.

He holds you, puffing out breaths as he glares down at you. You’re trapped in his simmering sights. You look up at him, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. He lets out a low snarl and slowly releases you.

“I hate these summer lands,” he grumbles as you stagger back.

You still and stare as he backs away. He turns on his heel and stalks towards the door, leaving you in frightful curiosity. You open and close your fingers, your forearm tingling from his firm grasp. You rub it through your sleeve as you spin towards the cellar. You will be certain to grab a full cask for the king’s thirst.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the witcher #series #winter's king #au #medieval au

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Heroes vs. Villains : Pomefiore [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Pomefiore vs. Neige Leblanche Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Pomefiore Version

ie. In which no actor alive is apparently able to comprehend the expression ‘too much.’ Or, Neige sends you far too many flowers and Vil reacts about just as well as you would expect.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

Everything was going great.

Sure, Rook had nearly assassinated you through the power of embarrassment alone and Vil was still commandeering nearly every spare moment of your free time, but overall it was good. The House Warden had slipped back into his usual not entirely self-destructive haughtiness, and you had tucked his subordinate’s betrayal into the deepest recesses of your mind in hopes you might one day just black it out entirely.

And then one morning you woke up and there were flowers on your doorstep.

At first, you genuinely thought it was a prank. Because they were white lilies, and lilies were toxic to cats. And obviously Grim had yowled at you immediately about how he was “NOT A CAT, HENCHMAN!” But you tossed the bouquet in the garbage anyways, just to be safe. Part of you figured that it might be Jade. He certainly seemed the type to dabble in poisoning house pets, and he went on enough nature walks that procuring some of those nifty little blossoms would be an easy feat. So you casually penned ‘Threaten Azul With Octopot Blackmail Until He Can Learn to Control His Demon Spawn’ into your planner and carried on with your day.

And then there were more flowers the next morning, and something cavernous and foreboding in your gut told you that this wasn’t Jade Leech. This time it was a pleasantly wrapped bouquet of mixed white and red carnations—all tuft-like and fluffy. There was a small square of cardstock tucked into the stems. Maybe there had been one in the lilies too, but you hadn’t even bothered to check before dunking them into the trashcan. The paper was embossed with something that looked a bit like an insignia—a teeny, round, sparrow made up of curling silver swirls and little, scratchy, tufts that you assumed were meant to be feathers. The real damning part of all of it though was the elaborate, cursive, N.L. tucked beneath the bird’s spread wings.

Ruh-roh.

“Huh? What are those?” Grimm yawned as he padded down the stairs on his teeny, black, paws.

You tossed the bouquet into the coat closet and slammed the door. “Nothing. Jade’s just trying to poison you again.”

Grim puffed up like a little lion. “You should poison him back! Or stab ‘em!”

“Right,” you nodded, walking bravely into the winter morning with no coat, because the evidence was with your coat, and you immediately wanted to shrivel up and die. “I’ll just do that then.”

The next morning, there was a knock at your door—bright and early. You cracked it open cautiously and peeked through the slit like a ghoul creeping out of its dark lair. It was a person you didn’t recognize, and you opened the door more fully.

“Can I help you…?”

“Yes!” the guy chirped. You realized then that he was wearing a delivery uniform. “I’m just here to drop these off for you,” he smiled, and pressed a bundle of daisies into your arms. “I guess it was noted in the delivery request that it wasn’t a certainty if the last orders had ended up with you or not.”

“Is that so,” you droned, trying not to sound like your soul was actively attempting to vacate your body. “Well. Thank you. Goodbye—”

“Oh!” he called, before you could retreat back into your hovel like a wounded animal. “There are a few more actually!” he said, pointing to another delivery man headed in your direction—weighed down under an entire armful’s worth of blooms. You couldn’t even make out the poor guy’s head beneath the forest of pale pinks and yellows consuming him.

“Right,” you nodded, horrified. “Of course. Anyways, is there a way I can go about returning these, or…?”

The poor dude being eaten alive by all those flowers just laughed good-naturedly and dumped the wagon’s worth of tulips, and camellias, and even more carnations at your feet. You could feel something in your jaw tick.

And then another pair of delivery men came sauntering over the hill and you wanted to scream.

That day at lunch, you felt like a convict in a lineup.

You were seated at Vil’s left, as was the norm, and you were having to actively fight the raw survival instinct tugging at every muscle in your body as it demanded that you flee from the room post haste. A part of you felt like the intuitive beauty would just know somehow. Like he could smell the goddamn flowers on you. You were practically vibrating out of your seat. Every time he brushed up against you, you’d jolt like you’d been electrocuted. All of the moments where he’d shift and his knee would bump against yours, or when he would reach for something just a little off center and his arm would tuck up against your side, or how he’d rest his hand on the table just close enough to yours that even the teeniest fidget would push your pinkies together. It was like the universe had decided that today you were going to be a lightning rod, and that it was oh so fun to just zap-zap-zap you endlessly.

“Are you feeling alright, Mon Coeur?” Rook called from his spot across the narrow table. “You look a bit grey.”

You grit your teeth, because Vil sitting less than a foot away or otherwise, no way would you be telling anything to this snitch. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”

“No. He’s right,” Vil asserted, stern, and turned to face you more fully. “You’ve been miserable from the moment you sat down. What’s the matter?”

“I’m fine,” you tried again, and Vil’s eyes narrowed irritably at your bold-faced lie. He leaned closer, as if chastising you from three inches away instead of six would make any sort of difference. But then something odd flickered across his expression and you experienced the very distinctive and horrifying sensation of being marched to the gallows.

Vil reached out and the featherlight touch of his fingers brushed along the curve of your jaw and down your throat before settling heavily at your collar. He plucked a small, pink, petal from a fold in the fabric.

“What’s this?” he asked, with the inflection of someone who already knew perfectly well what ‘this’ was.

“I fell into a bush,” you replied, deadpan.

Silence.

“A bush, hmm?” he mused blandly, and rolled the petal around between his fingers.

Epel and Rook exchanged pointed glances.

“It was an ugly bush,” you added. Because, sure, it was a lie. And Vil clearly knew it was a lie. But maybe hurling around insults at Neige the bush would help.

Vil snorted, and thankfully it sounded more amused than enraged. The petal disappeared in a puff of dark, purple, smoke and he returned to poking at his salad and your posture in equal measure. Safe. For now.

That evening, you approached the only other person on campus that you could think of who would benefit more from helping you keep your horrible, little, secret than in just selling you out at the first opportunity.

“Epel, you lived on a farm,” you tried, conversational in perhaps the way a hostage may try to sound casual to avoid panicking the SWAT team listening in from just outside the door. “You know how plants work.”

He arched a lavender eyebrow at you.

“Yeah?”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” you chirped, steepling your fingers. “So, anyways. Can I get your help then. With a plant problem I’m having?”

“Uhm, sure?” he agreed, face scrunched up in bewilderment.

When you walked him into Ramshackle’s foyer, Epel made a noise like he was choking. You couldn’t blame him—shock aside, the petals floating around were becoming a real hazard.

“Where did these even come from?” he gawked.

“Neige,” you winced, scuffing your toes against the carpet. Or at least in the general vicinity of where you assumed the carpet was. The entire floor was blanketed in loose leaves and bits of ivy.

He whistled low under his breath, and something in his gaze went a little hazy—a little spooked. “When Vil finds out about this…”

“He won’t,” you declared, with as much determination as you could manage.

“He will,” Epel grumbled. He looked like he was having war flashbacks.

“If he does,” you sighed, defeated, “you might as well just shoot me and put me out of my misery.”

“The shotgun is back at grandma’s,” he mumbled, his pale blue eyes still clouded and very, very, faraway.

You blinked. “What.”

“What?”

“…Nothing. I just. Please,” you begged. “You have to help me.”

Epel seemed to take your pleas seriously at the very least (or maybe it was just his own sense of self-preservation kicking in), and he gently raised a finger to tap at his chin as he pondered. After a moment, he made a little ‘ah-ha’ noise and turned back to you with a firm nod.

“You ever lit a bonfire in a dumpster before?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. A third time.

“I,” you began, slow, “have never. Set a dumpster on fire.”

Epel reached out to thump you squarely on the shoulder. “Well, you’re gonna today.”

“What were you thinking?!” Crewel snarled at you, cracking his pointer across his palm.

You coughed, sending a cloud of garbage-and-petal-scented soot into the air of his otherwise very pristine office.

“I wasn’t?” you tried.

The alchemist looked like he was ready to put his head through the wall or maybe yours, but instead he just reached up to dig his fingers into his temples.

“Detention,” he snapped.

“Understandable,” you nodded—another wave of dusty, black, ash falling to the carpet beneath your feet.

And then all your arson was for naught, because the very next morning there was a fresh mountain of pink roses crowding your entryway.

You kicked them into the back of the coat closet and hurried off to class, making sure to double and triple check your clothes for any damning evidence before you did.

You made it all the way through the rest of the day without any other flower related nonsense, and maybe all that success had made you cocky, stupid. So when you realized you’d forgotten your little notebook full of reference numbers and stage cues for the Drama Club’s newest production, making a pitstop at Ramshackle only seemed sensible. And when Vil offered to walk you there and back, you agreed without any consideration for rationality.

You could just see the pointed rooftop of your dorm coming into view over the hill when your companion final spoke up.

“This path is ridiculously undermaintained,” he hummed. His purple gaze slid pointedly in your direction. “I suppose I can see how you were you so easily felled by a bush.”

“An ugly bush,” you repeated, just to see his lips quirk into a smug little smirk.

But then that satisfied expression froze on his face, and his mouth curled downwards into that venomous sneer of his that made each and every hair at the back of your neck stand on end.

Because standing in your doorway, a delicate bouquet of sunflowers and sweet peas tucked under his arm, was Neige LeBlanche. With that goddamn purple scarf wrapped around his neck.

“Oh! Hello!” he chirped, his doe eyes wrinkling at the corners as he smiled. “I was hoping I’d be able to catch you!” A fetching shade of pink bloomed across his cheeks and along the bridge of his nose, and he fidgeted nervously with the soft wrappings in his hands. “I was starting to think I had the wrong address…”

There was a steadily increasing pressure around the meat of your upper arm, and it took you a beat too long to realize that it was Vil and his ever-tightening vice grip and not just your clothes trying to strangle you. You could feel the blunt crescents of his fingernails digging into the fabric of your coat—sharp little pinpricks that didn’t exactly hurt or anything, but reminded you just a little too much of a big cat flexing its claws before it pounced.

Neige seemed to notice his one-sided nemesis for the first time, and his expression lit with genuine mirth.

“Oh! Vil! Hello to you too!” he beamed, a merry laugh working its way past his lips. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other! Though if you both go to Night Raven I suppose that makes sense…” He mused.

“Of course,” Vil ground out past his gnashing canines, with about as much civility as you were expecting. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

At this inquiry, Neige went pink all over again—from the tip of his gently pointed chin to the edges of his neatly styled fringe. He shifted nervously back and forth on the balls of his feet and his fingers clenched into the velvet bow of the bouquet. When he spoke up again, he was addressing you and you alone.

“I, uhm…” he spluttered. “Well, I… I was worried you weren’t getting any of my flowers, because I never heard anything back from you. Not that I was expecting you to thank me or anything!” he hurriedly rushed out. “I just—Ah. Well… I-I’ve never really done this sort of thing before, and I wanted to make sure I was doing it right, and Dominic said that if you weren’t responding then maybe I should be doing this in person, so… I…” he trailed off, his face practically glowing with the crimson heat radiating off his cheeks.

“You never actually gave me any way to respond,” you tried (which was entirely true), aiming for as middle-of-the-road as possible. Clearly it wasn’t neutral enough, because Vil’s glower swiveled to you and became a tangible force against your skin.

“Oh!” Neige gasped. “Oh my goodness! You’re right!”

Maybe that would be the end of it. Maybe he’d be like you, and wind up so encumbered by his own embarrassment that he’d have no other choice but to run away.

But instead, he soldiered on.

“Well…” the brunette murmured, clearly fighting an intense urge to fidget. “I was wondering then, if I—if you—if we—could. If you want to—”

This poor, lost, boy was so sweet and endearing. And as much as you could not comprehend how saving him One Time in a crowded mall had turned into weeks of pining and near hero worship, you felt for the dude. And you felt even worse knowing that you were going to have to absolutely cut him down if you wanted any hope of coming out of this alive with an even marginally stable Vil at your side. Neige was kind, but Vil was totally not the object of your miserable, unrequited, affections your friend. And if you had to sacrifice Squirrel-Sweater-Boy and his crush to keep the House Warden from falling into another spiral of self-flagellation and despair, then so be it.

“A-Actually!” you cut in as fast as you could. “I was just…”

Your eyes flickered to Vil, panicked, and you hoped he wouldn’t eviscerate you for this.

You placed a hand atop the one he’d wrapped around your arm and gave it a gentle, blatant, squeeze as you leaned heavily into his side. “The two of us were just planning on going somewhere! Together!” You shot him a pointed look that you prayed he’d be able to interpret past the veil of red fury muddling his gaze. “Weren’t we?”

“Oh! Like a friendship outing!” Neige chirped, and clapping his hands together enthusiastically. You wilted. “Do you mind if I come along too then? I’d really love to spend more time with you if I can, but obviously I don’t want to step over any of your preexisting plans! I’d love to be able to hang out with Vil again too! It could be like a field trip!”

Your stomach dropped, and you were genuinely worried for a moment that you were going to have to just honest-to-God turn around and book it before you could be indicted as an accessory to murder.

But then the twisting resentment melted from Vil’s face and the hand at your shoulder snuck around your back to settle firmly at your hip. He hauled you flush against his side and you barely managed to swallow your squeak.

“No, actually,” Vil crooned, a wickedly smug grin splitting his crimson lips. “Together, as in together. Partners,” he continued, perfectly chipper. “Involved. Entangled. Romantically linked. Whatever you’d like to call it.”

Neige’s expression immediately fell into something terribly dejected, before bouncing almost just as fast into mortification.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I had no idea! If I had known, I—I mean, I would never have tried to—to—Oh, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable!” he rambled, so red and embarrassed that you were back to feeling bad for him all over again. “Please forgive me for overstepping!”

“I suppose,” Vil sighed, dramatic. And you were officially done feeling bad for him and all his crippling self-worth issues. He turned to you with this demure little pout that you just knew he’d probably had to practice in front of a mirror at some point. “And how about you, darling? Are you feeling magnanimous this afternoon?”

“You’re forgiven,” you grit out, and there was bit of a terrible moment where Neige clearly assumed your spiraling vitriol was aimed at him and not the smug bastard pinning you to his side.

“Th-Thank you!” he squeaked, before darting forward to press the bouquet into Vil’s hands. “Here! Have these! As a—As an apology bouquet instead of a, well…” He buried his face into the plush fabric of his scarf and took a very long, very loud, breath. As if he was trying to center himself. “Anyways! I should be—I’ll get going then! Enjoy your date!”

And then Neige was scurrying off as fast as his legs could carry him, and Vil smirked proudly throughout the entire retreat and beyond. The sunflowers sat in his hands like a trophy.

You took a moment to remind yourself that you were not always a terrible person, and that surely something like this was outweighed in the grand scheme of things by all the Overblots you’d stopped, and how many murders you’d prevented. You sighed, bone deep and weary, and were just about to start making the last leg of the trek into your dorm when Vil pulled you in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” you asked, confused. “We still need to get my notebook for the club meeting, and—”

“I thought you just said something about me taking you out for the evening,” he interrupted, arching a finely shaped brow. “Or did you already forget.”

“But that was…” you trailed off, hesitant. Something warm and eager swirled in your belly, and you tamped it down as fast you could. There was no way he meant what your fluttering pulse was assuming he’d meant. I mean, you were ‘the potato.’ That’s it. “You don’t have to feel like you need to take me somewhere. I know that was just…”

Vil scoffed. “Oh, please. I assumed you knew me better than that. Do I seem like the sort of person who would be willing to fake a relationship to avoid any kind of fallout—within the media or otherwise?”

“…No?” you said after a moment.

His hand flexed at your waist. “Correct. Now. Let’s get going. We’ll stop at my dorm first—you’re not going out dressed like that.”

The world was tilting on its axis. Hell had frozen over. Deuce had aced an exam.

“Are you—did you just ask me out?” you gaped.

Vil sighed. “Technically, you asked me. Or, well, demanded.”

“Oh,” you rasped, dazed. “I guess I did.”

And so began the journey back to Pomefiore. Or, well, Vil’s journey. You were just being carted along like a useless sack of vegetables. Your head was spinning, the rest of you barely able to catch up to its frantic swirling. Amidst all your emotional vertigo, you did catch Vil glaring frostily down at the bouquet in his hands. You wondered idly why he didn’t just throw it to the side, and then remembered that ah yes. A trophy.

“Sunflowers,” Vil scoffed under his breath, and the contempt there helped ground you back in reality.

“What’s wrong with sunflowers?” you asked in a huff, no longer feeling the need to cater to his bruised pride now that he was so obviously riding high on a wave of self-satisfied vindication.

He snorted. “You clearly have no grasp on floriography.”

“And you do?”

“What exactly do you think poisons are made of? Or most natural cosmetics?”

You sighed. “Fine. Then if sunflowers are so awful, what kind of flowers would you give me?”

“Roses, naturally. Scarlet Sage.” His lips quirked. “Coriander.”

“Coriander isn’t a flower. It’s what you cook with,” you sniffed, indignant. “Sage too!”

Vil laughed under his breath and reached out to take your hand, threading your fingers through his. You felt warmth spread from your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears, and you hoped more than anything that your palm wasn’t too sweaty.

“Is that so?” he hummed, amused.

“Well what do they mean then?” you conceded, that furious heat still working its way along your skin.

He glanced down at you out of the corner of his charcoal-lined eyes—the purple there brilliantly sharp and fond. He gave your hand another firm squeeze.

“I suppose you’ll just have to do your best to figure that out.”

🌸FLOWERS🌸

White Lilies = Virginity, Purity, Heavenly Red Carnations = ‘Alas for my poor heart, my heart aches,’ deep romantic love White Carnations = Innocence, pure love, sweet love Daisies = Innocence, Loyal love Ivy = Affection, Friendship, Fidelity Pink Camelias = Longing For You Pink Rose = Happiness; innocent romantic love Yellow Tulip = Sunshine in your smile; hopeless love Sweet Pea = kindheartedness, Blissful pleasures Sunflower = Adoration; Pure Thoughts

Red Rose = Love, ‘I love you’ Scarlet Sage = Forever Mine Coriandor = Lust

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil x Reader #vil shoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Pomefiore x Reader #neige leblanche #neige x reader #My Writing #Heroes vs Villains #Heroes vs Villains Pomefiore Part 3

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socksracoon10 · 3 months

Note

Hi love here I come with my first spontaneous idea 🩷

Reader is the Commodore's sister but sick of the ways of society. When Jack saves Elisabeth, reader is the one who persuaded James not to kill Jack and also the one he happens to threat in order to escape. She’s somehow drawn to the Captain and later gives Will the keys to the cell to set him free. Jacks thoughts circle around her, too and they reunite when she swings last minute from the Dauntless over to the Interceptor to join the pirates making way❣️

Curious of The Seas

A/N: Literally fell in love with your ask oh my god, couldn't stop thinking about it before I began writing!! Thank you so much for this request! Pairings: Jack Sparrow x F!Reader, Will Turner x F!Reader (Platonic), James Norrington x F!Reader (siblings)

"Don't slouch, stand straight," Commodore Norrington hissed at you. You glared at your brother, curving your lips downward. You hated how strict and loyal he was to the British Crown and how he enforced his rules onto you, despite being his "precious baby sister."

Your brother didn't hate you, but he sure did a good job of making you hate him. He was pacing his quarters back and forth, rehearsing what he would say to Miss Elizabeth Swann upon meeting her. You rolled your eyes at the pathetic scene, realizing that if your brother were to marry Miss Swann you were next on the list for the most eligible bachelorette in Port Royal. Your body cringed at the thought and you wriggled your back to shake off the eerie feeling crawling down your spine and focused on trying to ease your brother at the moment.

"James, there is no point in stressing over something as simple as this. Tell her you are in love with-" You began but frowned when he interjected,

"Love? Don't be ridiculous!"

"So, you're not in love with her?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, I very much am in love with her. But it is not proper for a man such as myself to say trivial things to the daughter of the Governor!" Your brother reasoned and you sighed in an exasperated tone, shifting your gaze out the window.

Elizabeth had stared at you with a quizzical look on her face when your brother and you had first approached her. You both shared the same expression of disdain for the situation. It was very clear to see that she was indifferent to your brother and surely was the very last man that she had any interest for. You, on the other hand, dearly loved your brother and wanted to save him from any heartache that she would cause him. You chewed your lip nervously, watching them exchange a few words of greetings before walking away. The commodore glanced over his shoulder, mouthing a few warnings to reign your behavior in for the biggest moment of his life before stalking away.

Huffing in annoyance, you picked the ends of your dress up and marched past the Governor who was just about to start a conversation with you. He awkwardly shut his mouth and watched you walk away to stand on the other corner of the pillar where your brother and Elizabeth stood. He leaned backward to get a good look at you, sending you another glare before returning his full attention to the woman in front of him with a nervous smile. You sighed, gazing out to the sea. Your brother had taken you once beyond Port Royal when you were a little girl and he swore it was something he very much regretted; all you could ever do since then was talk about sailing the seas. You desired to travel across the world, collect artifacts, and live a free life. Your brother scoffed at your desires, stating that he would rather die than see his little sister galloping around like a pirate of all creatures.

As you gazed out into the horizons with a look of yearning, you heard the loudest splash from below. Peering over the edges of the wall, you frowned at the ripples that seemed to bloom near the rocks and you instantly pulled back from your position and walked around to notice your brother screaming Elizabeth's name.

"What did you do?" You exclaimed, resting a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away from your grasp, beginning to take his coat off but you grabbed hold of him,

"The rocks, James! She's lucky that she didn't hit them on her way down! Come, we can reach her at the docks!" You urged him, yanking his arm. He seemed instilled with distraught, at a loss for words, "She must've jumped by your mere presence!"

Your brother sent you a nasty scowl and the playful smirk on your lips faded away instantaneously. You knew this was no joking matter; the poor woman could've died on her way down and she was to be betrothed to him anyway. As your brother scampered off with the rest of the guards, you found your feet rooted to the ground as you stared up at the sky. Something was amiss. The clouds darkened and circled about gravely, and the sea no longer held its silky blue blanket to comfort you. Before you could try and comprehend what must've occurred, you felt an urgent tug around your arms and you sharply turned to find yourself facing the Governor.

"Come now, my dear, you mustn't dawdle around when my daughter's life is in danger!" He exclaimed and you frowned at his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him. Even if you wanted to help Elizabeth, there was surely no way you could swim into the waters with this puffy dress around you. You followed him down to the docks, pushing past the British officers to find yourself facing Elizabeth coughing up heaps of water from her lungs and then... a pirate.

With all the rifles surrounding him, you nearly thought they were aimed at your brother who stood in the way. You could only make out half his face, oblivious to the ensuing conversation that your brother was currently engaged in. You peeked around the Commodore's shoulder, carefully eyeing the strange man in your presence when his eyes flickered over to you for a sharp second before returning to your brother. Your breath hitched at the moment, taking in his disheveled and wet appearance as your brother remained as the shield between the man and you.

"He's a pirate," Your brother growled, his jaw clenching as he barked orders for his arrest. He ignored your gaping stare as he continued, "Sparrow, I assume?"

"Jack Sparrow?" You interjected, your mouth practically on the floor as you stared at him. The corner of the pirate's lips curved into a small smirk,

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow, love," He smiled with a wink. You smiled back before your brother forcefully shoved you behind him once again. He made a mental note to have a discussion with you about your behavior as soon as you returned home. He took the pirate's belongings and derided him for his lack of proper weapons, but it bothered him so deeply that you were so enchanted by the man. It irked him to think that his sister would fall foolish to a PIRATE of all people. He forcefully grabbed onto Jack's arm and began dragging him off before you cut him off,

"James! James!" You cried out, and your brother halted in his tracks and sent you a menacing scowl.

"Not another word from you, (Y/N)." He hissed, and you scoffed before pulling your skirt up ever so slightly to march up to your brother,

"This man, pirate or not, has just saved your betrothed's life! I suggest you at least show some mercy upon him!"

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man's life of wickedness," Your brother corrected you as Jack was being handcuffed by a Redcoat.

"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Jack added, and you offered him a sympathetic look before turning to your brother with pleading eyes.

"Brother, please. I beg of you, consider an alternative for this man." You prodded him, as your eyes fell onto Elizabeth who smiled softly at your words.

"Please do so," Jack muttered, before dragging his bound hands around your neck. You gasped in response, tugging at the chains as your brother panicked.

"No one shoots!" The Commodore bellowed, holding his hands in the air, "Let go of my sister."

"Only if you return my belongings," Jack taunted with a haughty grin. He leaned closer to lowly utter into your ears, "You must be regretting your kindness, do you not?"

"I don't, but it seems that you'll regret it," You whispered, as you watched the guards hand in his belongings in a bundle. Jack nudged your back with his knee ever so lightly to grab hold of his things and you begrudgingly did so, before sharply turning around to face him.

"Now if you'll do me the pleasure... my, I don't think I know your name..." He said with a sly smirk. You frowned at him,

"It's Miss Norrington to you," You spat, placing his hat on. As you placed his sword, belt, and other personnel around him, you could feel his intense stare burning deep into you. If it was of lust or attraction, you did not know and at the moment did not necessarily care. Your mind was fixated on other things, and your brother was seething in rage as he watched Jack give him a look regarding your body against his that made him want to hurl. To think his sister was so close to a gruesome pirate! It was preposterous!

As you tied the last remaining string of his belt around him, you looked up at him with disgust. Not only was he a pirate, but this would be the talk of the town, and your brother's and your reputation would be spoiled. Your brother could easily regain his good fortune, but you were never as lucky. You hated the way the women would gossip and to think it was all spoiled over one man you decided to be too merciful with because your curiosity could not be controlled made you ready to commit arson.

"Is this how you repay me?" You hissed and the pirate smirked at your words,

"I saved your friend's life, and now you save me. Besides, you did after all wish for me to live. Now, suffer those consequences. When shall a beautiful lady such as yourself realize to never mess with a pirate?" He chuckled, before harshly turning you around with his gun aimed at your head. Your brother flinched at the sudden movement, making sure you were alright.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you will always remember this as the day you almost caught Jack Sparrow," The pirate's voice boomed from behind you and the very next second you found yourself thrust upon your brother and Elizabeth. As Jack Sparrow hurriedly began his escape, he did not fail to include a personal message from his heart, "Thank you very much, Miss Norrington. I shall not ever forget such kindness!"

And you weren't ready to forget him, either. It would be for another reason. As the night raged on with a surge of pirates infiltrating Port Royal, you felt a growing desire to do something about it. Your brother had joined the Governor for his safety and left you at home to be tended to by the maids. Upon realizing that the front door would burst open regardless of the circumstances, you quietly slipped out the window in your nightly attire and made your way to the blacksmith's quarters where you knew for a fact that your good friend Will Smith would be. Will and you had grown as siblings; he was there for you more than your brother had been. He had anticipated your arrival anyway but found himself in jeopardy when his ears gathered the news that Elizabeth Swann had been abducted by the pirates. He was pacing around when you arrived and he quickly latched onto your shoulders,

"They've taken Elizabeth! I tried my best but-" Will began but you silenced him, bringing a hand to his mouth.

"I know what you must be going through. But there is not enough time. I heard you helped imprison Jack Sparrow." You whispered and he nodded his head, eyes wide as he tried to make the best of the situation, "Come, I have the key with me, we can both interrogate him and seek his help." Your hand fell to his own and led him towards the streets.

"Wait a minute," Will stopped you, and with a glance over your shoulder you already knew what he was about to say. He was going to prevent you from going. "(Y/N), I know you've always wished to escape Port Royal, but I cannot bring harm to you once you step foot onto the waters."

"Will," You chastised him, "I am no longer a little girl. I am very capable of handling my own matters."

"You are inexperienced, that's all I can say." Will rebuked your claim and you gasped at his words, before furrowing your brows,

"So are you!"

"Ah, but I shall be bringing Sparrow with me to help find Elizabeth."

"Oh, don't be so dull! I can help Sparrow and you as well. Do not prevent me from doing so! If it is out of fear that a pirate may do something towards a woman of my status, I assure you that no such thing will occur! If he dares to even look at me, I shall see to it that his eyes are gouged out by his blade!" You reasoned and Will took a step backwards, his lips parting in shock at your words. You had the spirit of a pirate in you that was for sure, and that was exactly what he feared.

"I cannot let you join. Your brother is... already facing loss," He replied in an awkward tone, considering how much he cared about Elizabeth, "He would be devasted to find you gone as well. Just stay put for now. I'm sure there shall be something more exciting for you in Port Royal."

You muttered a few unladylike curses under your breath and reluctantly offered him the key to the jail cell, "At least tell Sparrow that I was... delighted by his presence."

Will raised a suspicious eyebrow at your remark, unsure of how to respond. He nodded his head and then left you alone, as you brought your hands over your arms as your mind wandered towards the sea once again.

To say that Jack Sparrow was surprised by Will's statement regarding you would be an understatement. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you so willingly offered him the key to his escape, considering how he had humiliated your brother and especially you in front of everyone at the docks earlier in the day. He chewed his lip, his eyes dilating at the thought of you. The way you stared at him in defiance, your temples rising and falling with the way you clenched your jaw. Of course, who could forget the sensation of your fingers pressed up against him as you fastened his belt? As much of the ladies' man that Jack was, there was something different about you. You weren't like Giselle or Scarlet, complaining about superficial things or just merely trying to get into his pants. He could tell there was this curious spirit fighting to break free when he first laid eyes on you. The way you cautiously peered over your brother's shoulder had made him... well, he certainly wouldn't say his heart skipped a beat. He wasn't a silly little boy. He was a man! A grown man, a pirate! CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, mind you. And yet here he was, trying to justify to himself that what he felt for you was nothing more than just infatuation that would surely pass on.

But it didn't. It never did. While of course, his thoughts about stealing The Interceptor were his priority, he just couldn't stand still without his mind fleeting over to the very image of you, dressed in that regal bright blue gown and your hair all curled and pinned to form the most exquisite portrait of a woman he'd ever seen in his life. He smirked to himself at the thought of you, wondering what you must be doing at Port Royal at the moment. What if your brother had you married off to someone else? What if you were to live the rest of your life as a boring wife to an equally boring officer? He shook his head, wriggling himself free from those imaginative concoctions. He was a pirate, damn it. He had better things to think about than just a woman he had seen days ago.

"You've got to be kidding me," Your brother grumbled as he pushed past you. You had boarded The Interceptor with him, not because you had wanted to - even though you took every chance out on the sea with gratefulness - but because your brother was so worried about the possibility of your abduction that he wished you were beside him at all times. Including those incredibly still moments of him gazing out into the sea. To him, he seemed to have an air of control, all the world's burdens upon his shoulder. This was his duty. When you gazed out into the sea, however, it was a plethora of possibilities. The unmarked territories you could claim, the desire for you to seek out treasure from all corners. You could be free. And no one would stop you. Save your brother, but that was something he'd always do anyway. Your attention focused on The Dauntless a couple hundred meters away as you noticed flocks of the British crew on small boats were paddling towards the ship you were in. Your brother gazed through his telescope and snarled at the sight, hesitantly passing the device for you to see as well. From afar, you saw Will Turner and... Jack Sparrow? The pirate? Both of them were flapping their arms around trying to make use of the mast. You guffawed at the sight, laughing at them. You turned to face your brother who quickly reminded you with his gaze about your behavior and you swallowed the amusement away as fast as you could.

The two ships - The Dauntless and The Interceptor - were locked horns now and your brother ordered you to come with him to board The Dauntless and put an end to Sparrow's madness. You reluctantly agreed, your eyes scanning around to see any sight of the familiar pirate you had so longed to see.

"Search every cabin, every hull," Your brother barked, before turning back to you, "And you stay close to me. Do not go wandering about like a fool like you always do."

You glowered at him, electing not to anger him any further as you stood on the deck. You watched him disappear among the surge of officers onto The Dauntless. You sighed, pacing back and forth when you noticed two men swing over to The Interceptor. It was Will and Jack.

Eyes widening in surprise, you tried to call attention to the situation but your cries fell on deaf ears. You stomped your foot and watched Jack cut off the rope ties, one by one. His gaze was fixed downwards until he looked up momentarily, and there you stood. He stood there for a few more seconds, completely surprised by your presence. Deep down, as much as he hated to admit it, he feared that he would never see you again.

"What are you doing? Cut the rope!" Will cried out in confusion before he followed Jack's eyes to you. Jack looked upwards at the rope still connecting the two boats before turning back to you,

"Jump, Miss Norrington!" He instructed, and you stepped forward, holding onto a long piece of rope. Upon hearing your name, your brother rushed out of the Captain's Quarters, pushing past his men.

"(Y/N)!" He yelled, his eyes daring you to make another move. Realizing that this was the only opportunity to acquire what you had spent so long yearning for; the deep blue seas, the adventure, and the whimsical treasures, you sent him one final glance before running off the deck of The Dauntless and swinging onto The Interceptor. With the final rope now gone, and the ship sailing forward at full speed your brother looked at you as if you were dead to him.

When The Dauntless was far behind and there seemed to be no danger at the present moment, you walked towards your friend Will and the pirate beside him. Will seemed elated that you were there, and he hugged you so warmly that you nearly forgot that he was not related to you by blood. Releasing you from his arms, he sheepishly stepped aside as Jack Sparrow stepped forward.

"Miss Norrington, it is a pleasure to have you on board with us. I almost feared you might not have the guts to swing over," He teased, his hand graciously wrapping around your own as he kissed your fingers with such gentleness that it surprised you. You cracked half a smile at him, narrowing your eyes, before responding,

"You may call me (Y/N), and please, I never turn down an opportunity for adventure."

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neoarchipelago · 1 year

Text

And they were roommates (part 4)

A/N: AWOOP Jumpscare damn this one's long.... Please don't get used to this super quick upload because i am currently sick and away from work that's why i just spend my days writing. It'll be slightly slower next week.

Warnings: 18+ stuff, violence blood, the usuals. We're all traumatised in so many and different ways.

ALSO: don't hesitate to send headcanons, tropes, to help keep this series going.

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You were pacing around the living room, much to Alejandro and Gaz's demise. It had been a full hour and half since you got home and you had zero news. The anxiety was eating at you.

"Sparrow please breathe, let us take care of your lip…" Gaz tried for what must have been the 6th time.

You just kept pacing. What happened? Where were they?.

"God damn it!" You cursed.

Stopping in front of the kitchen sink you stared at the black mug. Did he get into trouble? What if he got suspended?

The front door opening made you jump. Alejandro stood from the couch Gaz standing on guard nearby.

Soap and price were the first to walk in. Ghost followed, balaclava and hood on. He was tense, you could see it. You wanted to get to him but not in front of everyone. You knew he wouldn't like it.

"So?" Alejandro asked.

"Laswell was informed of the situation. Keller was suspended until further investigation." Price answered.

You let out a shaky breath. That asshole fully deserved it. But… ghost…

"What about the lieutenant?" Gaz asked.

You mentally thanked him for asking, the words too hard to speak out loud for you.

"He'll be fine." Price answered with a smirk.

You looked at ghost. He was staring right at you, you sighed in relief. He noticed.

"Laswell fully understood the situation. She even congratulated and thanked him." Price said with a chuckle.

Of course she did. Laswell was the one to find you years ago. To take you under her wing and protect you. You had become like a daughter for her.

Ghost finally stepped forward straight towards you. His large hand grabbed your chin softly.

"Why isn't this treated?"

You could still feel the bite of anger tainting his tone.

"Hum…" Gaz started.

"I didn't let them. I was worried. It's been over an hour! Plus. It's just a scratch." You interrupted.

You crossed your arms over your chest once more, defying him. What the hell? Who cared about the little scratch. You could clearly see his bloody knuckles. He stiffened.

"Don't test me." He threatened.

You pouted. The men in the room now feeling slightly out of place.

"Well. On that note. We'll leave you to it." Price spoke.

The boys started to walk out, Ghost not letting you out of his sight. You walked them to the door. Thanking them. Price turned to you.

"Try not to get him to worked up… you'd be playing with fire…" he hushed only to you.

You were confused. He seemed to be serious but the wink he sent your way suggested otherwise.

Once the door was closed you turned back to the living room. Ghost sat on the couch back to you. You decided to walk to the counter, following Price's advice.

"Come here." He ordered.

You sighed. Walking up the couch, you didn't get time to sit down before he stood up.

"Why?" He asked.

You frowned.

"Why what?" You asked.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He hissed.

You rolled your eyes, suddenly feeling all the pain again. The way he left. The way he told you you weren't friends. The way he didn't care.

"Don't roll your eyes at me." He warned.

You crossed your arms again.

"Don't give me orders." You tried. He stepped closer.

"Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me?" He asked again.

"Because you didn't care!" You half yelled.

You both stood there silently. You could feel yourself wanting to cry again. Feeling the tears threatening to fall, you turned around, trying to run from this staring match.

His hand rushed to your stomach pulling you back unto him. You gasped. His arms surrounded you. Softly. Too scared to actually hold you. You let your hands rest on his forearms.

"Ghost…" he squeezed a tiny bit harder. His chin rested at the crook of your neck, his breath tickling you. You bit your lip. Drawing more blood from it. With a whimper you spun around in his arms, hugging his torso tightly. He was obviously not used to it. He was probably mortified with himself to have even initiated it. He still didn't move. One of his hands rested on your back, the other had traveled to the back of your neck.

"I care." He whispered. You closed your eyes at the sound.

"I care." He repeated, as if finally allowing himself to realize it.

"I can't lose anyone else during Christmas…"

You were confused at the confession, but didn't push it. You hugged him tighter.

"You didn't. I'm fine. You saved me." You tried reassuring him.

"He hurt you." You couldn't miss the fury in his voice.

"And you made him pay" you chuckled.

He didn't seem to find it funny. His heart was slamming against his chest.

"I'm safe. You saved me." You tried one last time.

You remained in the hug a little bit.

"I'm… sorry." You heard him.

You hummed questioningly.

"We are friends. I care. You matter."

The words went straight to your chest. He cared.

"You matter too Ghost." You admitted.

He softly let go of you. His eyes looked tired. Sad. His thumb reached over your lip again.

"Let's take care of this."

You nodded. Grabbing his hand in yours.

"Only if you let me take care of this." You argued, mentioning his bruised knuckles.

He nodded. You smiled at him through tears. His hand rose, patting your head softly.

One thought lingered on your mind. He cared.

The next morning you woke up feeling sore. Last night Ghost had insisted on taking care of every single bruise you had.

"It's no-thing leave-it." You complained, punctuating every syllable.

You tried to get away from his grip. Seriously, the little bruise on your knee wasn't even caused by Keller.

"Keep moving and I'm handcuffing you." He warned.

"You wouldn't!" You stared at him.

The blank stares spoke volumes. He definitely would.

You sighed at the memory. He had given you pain meds. It was now almost 11 am. You probably would have slept longer if it wasn't for the bickering coming from the living room. You rose from the bed, you looked around, searching for your baggy shirt or t-shirt but couldn't find it anywhere. Did he… no. He wouldn't. He couldn't have.

He totally did. You sighed. Fine. You threw on a pajama shirt. Rummaging through your closet you found some pajama shorts. You walked to the door, stepping out and walking into the living room. You blinked. For a second you thought you might be dreaming.

The boys turned to you. The blinking lights reflecting around. The tree standing tall in the corner.

"Good morning sleeping beauty." Alejandro said.

"Sorry we didn't wait for you to put up the Christmas tree." Soap added.

"It was supposed to be a surprise but soap can't shut up." Gaz teased.

"What do you mean?! You've been yelling about the fucking colors all morning." Soap complained.

You stood there in shock. The whole living room had been decorated for Christmas. And… was that the smell of gingerbread? While the boys were bickering you looked at Ghost. Your breath caught in your lungs. He was wearing a black t-shirt, a very nice contrast from the usual hoodies or tactical shirts.

He was eyeing you angrily. Ah. Yes. The shorts. He glanced away and you followed his gaze. He was right. Alejandro seemed to enjoy the sight before him. He winked at you. Oh god.

Ghost rose from where he sat, and you immediately walked up to him.

"Ghost!" You whispered to him, one hand on his chest the other on his forearm. The skin to skin contact sent a shiver down your spine.

"Stop fucking playing." He whispered back.

"You said you weren't jealous.." you teased in a whisper, batting your lashes at him.

"Last warning. He keeps glancing at you." He warned.

"He's not going to hurt me. You know that."

He quietly looked down at you.

"It's just shorts. Calm down."

He frowned.

"Fine." He spat.

You smiled up at him. Your palm still on his chest. Something flashed through his eyes but you weren't exactly sure what.

"Ghost… did you hide my baggy shirts?" You questioned. He remained silent simply staring at you.

"Sparrow! Come help!" Soap called.

Letting your hands drop you whispered one last thing.

"Thank you… for Christmas."

He nodded. You took a step back heading for the tree. His eyes didn't leave you all afternoon. He stood close all the time. Alejandro was flirty but from far away which seemed to be a safe distance from the big scary dog next to you.

___

Christmas was wonderful. The boys had stayed over, sleeping on the couch and ground. First you were worried but Price had quickly washed your fears away.

"Don't worry they've slept in much worse conditions." He chuckled.

It was almost new year. Price and Ghost had been spending a lot of time on base, probably dealing with the Keller problem. As such, Gaz soap and Alejandro had been spending almost every day at the apartment. Somehow it had turned into a frat house, much to Ghost's dismay.

You had been so happy to mend things with Ghost. But you missed him. Your cheeks heated up at the thought. It was hard to admit and you surely wouldn't say it out loud. Spending time with the boys was fun but you missed the alone time with your roommate.

On this late evening, you had dined with the boys. You were thankful for Alejandro's cooking skills. Price and Ghost were out. And you were bored. Honestly. You were slightly pouting.

"Hey guys, want to play something?" Soap asked, picking Gaz's interest.

"Oh yeah yeah, we got that card game remember?" Gaz proposed.

"Absolutely! We should turn it into a drinking game." Soap added.

"I'm in." Alejandro rang.

They turned to you. A drinking game… well. You really were bored.

"Ok, sure." You said.

What could go wrong?

Every possible thing that could go wrong, went wrong. Everyone was drunk, slurring on their words, the living room was a mess. The boys had lost their shirts, Gaz had a drawn mustache over his lips, Soap had heavy makeup on and Alejandro tape over his mouth. You had ended up wearing Alejandro's shirt with nothing but underwear under. It was big enough to reach your thighs.

Your mind was blurry. The few shots of tequila, vodka and whiskey mixing your thoughts together in an impossible tangle.

"And that's another one for me!" Soap yelled, smashing his card on the table.

Everyone groaned ready to take another shot. You were unsure of the current time. The alcohol in your body made you slightly irrational. You missed Ghost. Why wasn't he home yet? You were pissed at him. The liquor burned your throat as you swallowed. You had fully accepted to wear Alejandro's shirt after your 7th shot, just to mess with the lieutenant.

Next round, won by Gaz, turned into a debate on whether or not he had cheated, Alejandro somehow losing the tape over his mouth in the process, sticking it to his chest.

You were annoyed. Where was Ghost? You wanted Ghost…

Pouring another shot, the game not being an excuse to down your drink anymore.

"What the hell is going on?!"

Everyone turned at the sound of Price's voice.

"Dad!" You yelled, a silly smile on your face.

Alejandro, Gaz and Soap burst out laughing. Price himself chuckled.

"Oh god. Little bird I'm flattered. We shouldn't have left you alone with these menaces." He said.

You noticed Ghost had his gaze fixated on you. You changed your expression to a pout.

"Why you'home so late?" You asked with a frown.

"You meanie!"

The comment made the boys burst out laughing again, Price indulging himself in laughter as well.

Ghost hadn't said a word yet. That wasn't nice… It pissed you off even more. He stepped closer.

"No!" You said. Making him stop in his tracks.

"Sparrow. You need to go to bed." He finally said.

"No! I wan'n play!" You pouted more.

He sighed, looking at Price.

"Sparrow listen to him. The boys are also going to sleep. Look, Gaz is already out."

You glanced back, Gaz had indeed tapped out he laid on the ground, mouth slightly open.

You frowned. Pussy.

Ghost had used that moment of inadvertence to get closer. Unfortunately for him, you noticed, crawling under the coffee table to the other side, shielding you from him as you slurred another 'no!' at him.

Soap couldn't stop laughing. Holding his stomach.

"Fuckin hell." Ghost cursed.

Price walked to Soap grabbing him, throwing his arm over his shoulders.

"Come on Sergeant, let's get you to bed." He smiled.

"Put him in the room on the right." Ghost said.

Wait.. that.. was… your room. You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He grabbed it before it could hit him, sending a dark glance at you. Soap had burst out laughing again, Alejandro joining him.

"I already told you. Pillows are not. A good weapon." He hissed.

He froze. Frowning.

"What are you wearing?" His voice had lowered a few octaves.

"My shirt…" Alejandro answered in between laughs.

God.. he looked furious. It sent a shiver down your spine. And it made you want to play with fire soooo much more.

"It looks-good on'me.. doesn'init?" You smiled innocently at him.

"It makes you angwy…'' you teased with a pout. "Mayyybee, sshould take'it off…" you said, adding actions to words as you crossed your arms grabbing the hem of the shirt, ready to lift it over your head. What were you doing? If only that question ran through your head at that moment maybe, just maybe you had behaved. Unfortunately the only thing in your mind was how pissed you were at him for coming home so late. Therefore a stupid reason to any rational thinking person, which you currently were not.

As the shirt raised, showing your panties as you sat on your legs on the ground Ghost snapped.

"SPARROW" He yelled, grabbing the coffee table with one hand, lifting and pushing it aside as if it was nothing, freeing the way to you.

It made you stop dead in your tracks. Shutting up Soap and Alejandro, waking up Gaz in the process. Price kept a close look at the situation.

You looked at him with wide eyes. He took a deep breath, squatting down in front of you slowly as if to not scare a little wild animal.

"Little bunny…" he started.

It made you melt. The fucker. He knew how to tame you. You let go of the shirt letting your hands drop to the floor in front of you, in between your legs.

"You've drank a bit too much because of these… idiots." He hissed the last word.

"I drank becaus m'missed you…" you admitted pouting.

A 'whooo' was heard in the far back, probably coming from Soap. With a simple glance from Ghost he shut up.

"Alright little bunny. I'm sorry. You want to be a good girl? You want to come see me?" He said, in a deep and… very sexy… voice.

Your mind was a complete fog. You wanted to be a good girl… you wanted to be his good girl…

Wait.. what?

If you could see yourself in a mirror and if you weren't so intoxicated, you would have understood the meaning of heart eyes. Ghost swallowed. It wasn't at all the look of pure adoration at his words that made him react like that… that made him stare at you like… you were his prey.

"I .. I wann'be a good girl…" you said in a whiny voice.

You thought you heard groans from every drunk man in the room. But your attention was fully fixed on the man with a skull mask in front of you.

Fuck. Why was it so hard to think? You felt so hot. The alcohol completely erasing your inhibition.

"Come here little bunny." He ordered.

Crawling on all fours to him you sat right in front of him looking up. Price had continued his way to drop Soap on your bed, coming back to grab Gaz.

"Imm sorry…" you said.

He sighed.

"You're a lightweight." He said.

You nodded.

"Can I have my shirt back?" Alejandro interrupted.

Ghost glanced at him. Muscles flexing. You turned to see what was making him so angry. Alejandro eyed you hungrily. Perhaps enjoying a bit too much the sight before him. You, on your knees, wearing his shirt.

"Sure." Ghost answered.

You blinked. He dropped to his knees, shifting closer to you as you now sat in between his knees. Softly grabbing the hem of the shirt, eyeing you to ask permission. You bit your lip, still glancing at him adoringly. He was mad. You wanted him to stop being mad. He lifted the shirt over your head, the cold hair giving you goosebumps. Or maybe it was the way his fingertips touched your skin. I mean, who knows? He threw Alejandro's shirt to his face.

He grabbed his own hoodie, throwing it over his head. You looked at his torso. You bit your lip again. God… he was hot. The scars… the way he was toned. His tattoos. Fuck. No. No. Wait. He's your roommate. You.. you can't…

He threw his hoodie over you, making you wear it. His scent was overwhelming, it made you close your eyes. The warmth of it, as he had been wearing it made you hum happily.

You were so focused that you didn't hear the conversation they were having.

"Why so angry lieutenant?" Alejandro, taunted with a smirk.

"The fuck you playin at Vargas?" He asked, anger biting at his words.

"What? She's pretty. Adorable. Hot." He listed. Ghost grew furious by the second.

"Stay the fuck away." Ghost threatened.

"What? She's yours? You feel possessive just because she's your roomie? Maybe she wants me" He frowned with a malicious smirk.

Ghost chuckled darkly. Turning to you, suddenly gaining your attention.

"Little bird… you missed me?" He asked.

"Yes sir…" you answered sweetly.

"Now… I should apologize for that." He flirted.

Wait… flirted…? Your mind was too fucked to pick it up.

"You want to sleep in my bed? Wanna cuddle with your lieutenant ?" He asked.

Your eyes would sparkle if they could.

"Yes please sir" you whined.

Alejandro cleared his throat. But somehow Ghost didn't stop. His fingers rose to your chin. What was he doing? Was this supposed to prove something? Were any of you serious? Was it just for show? Were you willingly rolling with his taunts?

He eyed you down. Voice deep and groaning.

"You my bunny? You're mine?" He asked, almost growling the last word.

You leant forward hands on his torso, letting your head fall into his shoulder.

"M'yours… m'your bunny…" you whined.

You felt so much affection at the moment for this man. His little pet name made your head spin.

That and the tequila.

Suddenly you were off the floor, being carried bridal style by him. You completely gave up on picking up anything about reality. You just let him take you to bed. You passed by Price in the hallway.

"The other two are dead asleep." He informed.

"Good. Now please get Vargas out." Ghost answered.

"He's too drunk to go anywhere. But I'll sleep in the living room with him. Whatever's going on shouldn't fuck up your work together." Price stated. A little silence. You hugged his neck tighter. Making Price chuckle.

"I think you can take care of her." Price teased, taping him on the shoulder before heading to the living room.

"Come on Vargas. Let's go to bed."

You chuckled into Ghost's neck as you heard Price. Ghost walked into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. He softly dropped you on top of his bed, standing up to look down at you. He sighed.

"You shouldn't drink this much Sparrow." He scolded.

You pouted.

"It's bunny." You frowned.

He chuckled.

"You're going to be so embarrassed tomorrow morning." He teased.

"Probably…" you slurred.

"You… really missed me?" He asked in a low voice.

You hummed affirmatively, suddenly hugging his pillow, eyelids heavy.

"Miss spending time… miss playing… eating…" you listed.

He chuckled.

"I'm sorry. I'll spend more time with you." He promised.

You smiled up at him.

"Fuuuck.." he cursed under his breath. "Vargas's right. You're fucking adorable." He whispered, more to himself than your ears.

You chuckled. Finger curling, beckoning him to lower himself to you. He leaned forwards, hands resting on either side of your body. You softly grabbed his face in between your hands, leaning in, his eyes widening. At the last moment you shifted, dropping a kiss on the skull mask, where his forehead would be.

"M'your bunny…" was the last thing you could say before sleep took you.

The next morning was rough. You had a pounding headache and you were nauseous. It took a good minute before you opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to your surroundings. You weren't in your room. And… that. Was Ghost sleeping next to you? Wait. Was that his hoodie on you? You remembered your little plan yesterday to piss him off by wearing Alejandro's t-shirt.

The memories hit you like a truck. You on all fours, Ghost undressing you, calling you bunny. Flirting with you. The staring match between the two men… CALLING PRICE DAD.

You cursed loudly, hands hiding your face.

"You ok ?"

You jumped, turning your head to look at Ghost.

"I.." you didn't know what to say. You bit your lip.

"Try, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause such a mess." He teased.

You closed your eyes. "I'm sorry…" you mumbled.

The air was tense. The memories felt a bit bitter. They were marked by alcohol and adrenaline from the moment. Were they real? This feelings? This affection towards one another? It was strong. It was abrupt to say it was love. He was still weary of you. And you were still confused. The doubt of his sincerity last night weighed on you.

He was teasing Alejandro… but did he mean any of it? He figured you like praises and he used it to get you to bed. You weren't mad at him for it. You had acted like a brat.

You were safe with the squad you were sure of it. None would take advantage of you, but you still put yourself in some kind of danger. You just hoped he wasn't mad.

The fear of having ruined your established relationship, whatever it was, probably friends, smacked you hard.

"We're… still friends. Right?" You asked.

"Why wouldn't we be?" He answered, soothing your worries.

"Are you mad..?"

"Negative."

"Promise?"

"Affirmative."

"This is going to feel weird… isn't it?"

"For a little bit. But we'll get over it."

You sighed. Would you? Would you both get over it? The way you looked at each other. The way his fingertips felt… the way he called you his bunny. His possessiveness over you, when.. you're just friends. Roommates.

You couldn't handle this. You couldn't handle being this tense around him. You jumped, turning over on your stomach, letting yourself rest on your elbows looking at him. He was staring right at you.

"We're pretty close." You started. He nodded.

"We care about each other." He kept nodding.

"You… called me your bunny." You tested.

"I did. You like it." He noted.

"I do… I like it and…" you were confused.

"Sparrow. Stop. You're overthinking this. We're fine." He said, slight annoyance in his voice. You smiled. He was still himself.

"Give me back my hoodie now." He requested.

"No."

---

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2K notes · View notes

panda-writes-kpop · 7 days

Note

Hiiii hope your having a wonderful day. I enjoy reading your scenarios especially dreamcatcher and aespa. Which made me wonder if I can request aespa as your pirate GF :o

Pirate! Aespa as Your Girlfriend

a/n: Thank you for the lovely message, anon! I'm so glad you love my aespa and dreamcatcher stuff 🫶 and of course you can, dear! Hopefully, you enjoy this! Obligatory tag of @foolish-sparrow ❤️ can't write about pirates without acknowledging the Pirate AU queen! Please check out all of her stuff because it's all so amazing 🫶🫶 also I tried something new with the banners, so let me know if you like it or not!

tw: it's in order of how the girls are introduced in the Pirate AU fic universe (no, I have not forgotten about Giselle or Ningning I will be getting back to them plz have patience with me 🫠) instead of age order, booze and drunken activities, violence, pirating and other forms of stealing

♡ Masterlist ♡

Winter ~ The Captain

she's always busy as the Captain of the Red-Haired Pirates, either trying to corral her crew (mostly Karina and Giselle) or find the next place or ship to plunder.

but for you? she has all of the time in the world.

You're very famously known as her soft spot on the crew, and people will use it to their advantage.

Of course she knows this, but if you're going to continue to kiss her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear... she'll let the shenanigans slide, for now.

Winter likes to show you off, whether by letting you commit the finishing blow on an opponent or giving you a chance to show off your own unique set of skills

Most of the time you spend together is at night when you're out at sea.

She'll be busy looking over the a map or checking some coordinates when you wrap your arms around her waist

a rare smile appears on her face as you state out at the open ocean together.

"Where are we going, my lovely Captain?"

"As long as you're by my side, wherever the seas take us, my dear."

Karina ~ The Marksman

the loser (affectionate) marksman by day, the greasy (slightly drunk) flirt by night finds herself changing her ways as you two enter a serious relationship.

Karina feels much more comfortable being her dorky, usual self when it's just the two of you alone, but as your relationship progresses, more and more people see a different side of her

if you aren't a marksman like her, she takes you to a local shooting range and teaches you everything you need to know

"You need to aim a little higher on the target, otherwise you won't do much more than give them a good scare."

"I'd love to focus my aim, Karina, but you're making my heart pound when you're this close to me."

Karina is well-known on her crew for her drunken antics, especially with the various people she meets during her travels

It all stops with you - either you're watching her to make sure she doesn't get absolutely wasted, or you're the one participating in her antics while you're both drunk.

If it's the first option, you're able to pull her away from the bar with lots of affectionate or promises of stronger booze on the ship (you just send her straight to bed, and she's too tired to argue)

If it's the latter, you two often find yourselves cleaning the decks in order to avoid Winter's wrath due to the shitstorm that you usually cause.

But hey, at least you have someone to cuddle with as you nurse your hangover away.

Giselle ~ The Arms Specialist/Mapmaker

Pulling double duty on the ship takes a toll on the amount of free time Giselle has, but when she has a free night, you can be sure that she's living it up, especially with you at her side.

You'll literally have her heart forever if you help her with her daily tasks, she's so stressed out with everything on her plate.

Depending on your specialties, you're either marking the map or helping with coordinates, or you're cleaning up gun powder and restocking the gunroom with newly pillaged supplies.

It works in Giselle's favor because she always can find a reason to talk with you when you're working on similar tasks.

"Do you need some help, darling?"

"I think I can handle myself, Giselle, but I don't mind the company."

After the ship has docked and the sun has disappeared from the sky, Giselle is finally free from most of her responsibilities.

She's dragging you to the nearest bar, either to hustle some of the crew at cards or to grab a few drinks.

You tell her that it's unfair to play cards against people you can't even sit straight, but you find that your concerns are silenced when a bottle of your favorite liquor is sitting at your side.

And if you're just grabbing drinks with her, she's sure to tell you how much she loves you (and all of the awesome pirating stories you missed out on before you started dating).

Ningning ~ The "Rogue" Mercenary

The quiet, withdrawn "misfit" in the crew isn't drawn to having a friendly relationship to many on the crew, except for you, of course.

She hasn't fully adjusted to the pirating life, considering that she joined the crew after being held captive by them, so she often is quietly looking over your shoulder to understand how to be more useful aboard the ship

"You can come closer, it's easier to learn how to tie a knot when you can see what I'm doing."

"I can see fine from where I'm at, but thank you for the offer."

You invite her to many of the crew's nighttime activities, and it's rare for her to accept, but when she does, you see her cracking a smile and occasionally laughing at everyone's antics.

Ningning likes spending time with you one-on-one, and that's when she confesses her feelings for you.

Literally no one knows that the two of you are together, except for a drunk Karina that saw the two of you embrace one night (and no one believes her, to this day).

She doesn't like to teach you her trade, she went through a lot of shit to get her skills, but she will show you how to fight if you aren't the greatest at it.

You'll just have to put your pride to the side because she will beat your ass, every time, without fail.

Plus, she can steal a kiss or two while she has you pinned to the ground. She lectures you about not being distracted with a smirk on her face, as if it isn't her fault.

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illumnis · 4 months

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oh, time turner. ― you could've pushed through the hurdles instead of ending it at once; but the time was going to pass anyways, right? time has done it's work, you're different people now, with different lives and different minds, so why do the two of you still hold onto who you used to be- to each other, you mean. no one can blame you, we all have the same hearts as yesterday after all.

pairing: various x gn!reader

warnings: just angst no comfort, codependency?? or just attachment, both of you are sad and sentimental, this was gnna be a vent but i got carried away and instead made this, i am so sorry. (inspired by promise by laufey if that makes it hit even harder)

art creds: holly warbuton (pls correct me if im wrong hhh)

time has passed, but the same sparrow still perches at your window sill.

sparrows, they say, represent love- an extension of aphrodite herself, the goddess of love and beauty.

you wish you could say it was ironic; how this same sparrow stilled, perched on your window as your and you partner came to the painful agreement to end things. you wish you could say it's ironic, how this sparrow; who still, despite two years- which people may say it's not a long time, but its seven hundred thirty days. seven hundred thirty days that you heart is left to mend, or your brain is to abandon information to take in something new; something that matters more than something that did seven hundred and thirty days ago. - still perches at your window will. a sparrow that represents love, a sparrow who watched a piece of you walk out with someone, still right there.

you wish you could say- but you can't, because despite the time, the minutes, and the seconds, and the hours, and any and every interval of time, you still love them.

(more under the cut)

the piece of you that they walked out with did not die the moment it left its home. much like how a flower separated from its roots to join a beautiful bouquet- it's quite sad in reality, stripping a flower away from its freedom to make its own food or water itself on its own accord; maybe that's why...

why you still find yourself depending on you ex-lover, or at least, the parts you abandoned of yourself that did depend on your ex-lover, you still hold onto. like the sagging flower- which its sagging may look obnoxious, but really, it's coming apart at it's seams, starting from the stem, to the leaves, to its- begging for it's owner...

'please water me' it begs.

'please look after me, you're all i have. for i cannot walk on two legs. for i cannot turn to the sun on my own- i only have your artificial lighting. for i no longer have my home, my roots.'

you're thankful, at least, that you aren't a flower cut away from its roots, and do not require someone to keep you alive in the same conditions.

however, you do long for that part of you again; along with the care of your ex-lover. it's a different codependency you think- yet, just as shameful.

two long years, he had found you again on social media, sending you a friendly dm, asking to meet at a cafe like old times.

old times. a petal plucked from your head, marking a time in your life you held dear. old times.

you agree, and of course; it's different.

there are old times, and there are new times. old times, as in the name, are not something you can relive, not something you can take back.

you and him are not the same people you were when you were together. but despite all of this- the longing, the string connecting your hearts together is retied. the feelings are left unsaid, but you both know.

you both know it's there but there is no acknowledgement, there is no attempt at rekindling the fire. the both of you know that either way, you will end up hurt.

two years ago, you two were different lovers, different views as to the ones you have now, different attitudes, different lives. so what would be the harm of trying again?

the harm is that you both still have the same heart. new wounds, sure, but mended does not mean new. the scar is still there, the love, the memories, but also the flaws, the causes of your disagreements, and the reason you ended it in the first place.

there was no trying again. this was it. despite the hurt, despite the pain of parting; or despite- if in another universe, you ended up rekindling the fire that burnt out two years ago- the pain that would come if you got back together, there was still love.

you hate to settle. he does too, you know that. the two of you hated to settle because of the possibility of better.

but the two of you always find that, around each other, that's just naturally what you do.

even if it was never down together, you settle.

― men who, despite the pain, still love. who gratefully take a piece of everyone they have every cherished, and cared for it with their entire being: diluc, kaeya, xiao, venti, kazuha, megumi, yuji, yuuta, gorou, kaveh, alhaitham, wriothesley, nanami, neuvillette, childe.

navi. mlist.

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chaosheadspace · 2 months

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I immediately got stuck on #2 for library boys, with Murphy, Hob, and Orpheus going to the farmer’s market together. 💗

Okay, thank you for sending in an ask and sorry it took so long to finish! This takes place at a yet unspecified time ;)

Hob is rather proud of himself. He has lured both Murphy and Orpheus to the farmers market with him, despite the latter claiming that it is too cold. He's done so with the promise of buying handmade ravioli from one of his favourite stalls to cook for dinner tonight, and hot chocolate from a nearby cafè afterwards.

Orpheus is wearing his new puffer jacket, and their breaths cloud in the air due to a late bout of frost. Despite his earlier protest, he seems very much interested in being here now; dashing from stall to stall, begging an apple off an unsuspecting farmer with big eyes. Hob chuckles.

“Where's the one with the pasta?” Orpheus mumbles with his mouth full. “I can't see it.”

“Just a little further. You're too small to see it yet, but there's a big penne on top of the stall.”

“I am not,” Orpheus protests. “Mpampa, I need to get up on your shoulders.”

Murphy raises one eyebrow and keeps on walking, his hands still in his pockets. “Little sparrow, you have not sat on my shoulders in years. You are too heavy for it now.”

“But you literally call me little sparrow!” Orpheus protests, putting his apple core into a nearby bin.

Murphy doesn't give in. “No.”

With a defeated sigh, Orpheus stuffs his fists into the pockets of his jacket, lowers his head and trudges after him. And Hob—Hob can’t take it. Not two of them, pouting and irritated, cookie cutter copies in face and stature, if not in height and hair.

“Come on, up you go,” Hob says gently, crouching down.

Orpheus’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Really,” Hob smiles.

It’s a little awkward, and at one point Hob is in serious danger of toppling over as Orpheus clambers onto his shoulders. He’s heavier than he looks, and much heavier than Hob anticipated despite his slight build, but he’ll be damned if he gives up. With an eye roll and a smile, Murphy helps him stand again and Hob sways a little before finding his balance.

“I can see it!” Orpheus shouts, half-jumping, knee knocking against Hob’s chin.

“Whoah, careful there,” Hob chides, gripping Orpheus’s shins tighter. He’s just glad he’d put his hair up in a bun this morning, because he’s got no idea what he would have done with a braid right now.

Orpheus stills and twists a little to find a more comfortable position. “Sorry, sorry.”

He’s warm against the back of Hob’s head, his hands against Hob’s neck and jaw, his legs and feet curled to the sides of Hob’s chest. He’s heavy and their centre of balance is giving Hob trouble but he knows, feels it in his stomach that he’ll carry Orpheus as long as he bloody well can. Hopefully he’ll hold out until they reach the pasta stall. Christ, that child is heavy.

The fond looks they get from other people pour a pleasant warmth into Hob’s stomach that only grows when Murphy takes his hand, so everyone can see they belong together. They’re being a nuisance, blocking more than half the path walking like this, but Hob doesn't care one bit.

When they reach their destination and Hob sets Orpheus down again (which he miraculously manages without beheading himself with sixty pounds of child) he can feel his flyaway hairs stand up with the frizz from Orpheus’s puffer jacket. Murphy rolls his eyes again, which Hob counts as a win, and tries to smooth them down. Hob knows by now that the eye roll means that Murphy doesn’t know what to do with his fondness, and it comes out in peculiar ways.

Smiling, he kisses Murphy’s cheek in thanks. Then it’s their turn, and Orpheus begs until they buy three kinds of pasta. It’s way too much, but Hob knows by experience that they freeze like a charm, so he doesn’t mind.

As they slowly make their way towards the café, Orpheus dashing ahead of them with the shopping bag, Hob leans in to whisper into Murphy’s ear.

“Could I persuade you to give me a back massage this evening?”

Now it’s Murphy’s turn to smile, and he does so rather smugly. “Oh? Have you learned that an eleven year old child is, indeed, too heavy to carry like that?”

“Yes,” Hob grins and squeezes his hand. “And I’ll very likely do it again.”

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #chaosheadspace's writing #library au

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finnofamerica · 1 month

Text

Smile at the Bottom of the Bottle - Jack Sparrow x Reader | Smut

Summary: Jack cheers up the reader with a little special treat (A/n: lol)

Word Count: 780

Date Posted: 03.22.24

Prompt: Can i request a jack x reader were jack sees the reader having a bad day and decides to try and drink her/their (idc if its fem or neutral:D)troubles away. So jack tries to cheer them up and he turns it dirty;) if not that's okay to:)

TW: AFAB Language was used, with P in V penetration.

Note: N/a

🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞

|| Masterlist || Request Here || Fandoms/ Characters || Req by @1deadpool26

Being part of Jack’s crew was always an adventure. There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason for his actions, yet somehow, things seemed to work out in his favor more often than not. Like Gibbs, you were loyal to Jack. Unlike Gibbs, your unwavering loyalty landed you marooned with Jack during the original mutiny.

And again, now after Barbossa dropped you, Jack, and Elizabeth on the very same island.

“Here,” Jack handed you a bottle, thunking down on the sand next to you and the small fire you had built. Elizabeth was out wanding the beach, doing god knows what; you didn’t care. It's not that you didn’t like Elizabeth; it's just that you didn’t care much about what she did. It’s the bed she made; she’s gotta lay in it.

“Thanks,” You took the bottle, taking a long swig. You didn’t have to tell Jack that it was a shitty day; he was feeling it too.

“Give me a smile, Love,” Jack caressed your cheek, “You know I hate it when you’re sad.”

“Not much to smile for, Jack,” you countered, shaking your head. “We’re stuck here again.”

“Aye, but we’re together.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, kissing the lobe. You sighed, relaxing into his familiar touch. With his free hand, he stroked your bodice, making his way to your corset ties and undoing them swiftly. Once untied, he unclipped it, letting fall loose to the sand. “And I know what will make you smile.”

You rolled your eyes but made no move to stop him, letting undo the ties that held up your well-fitted trousers. Jack slid his hand down your pants, finding your sensitive clit with precision, using two fingers to rub it in slow, deliberate circles.

You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, rocking your hips up against his finger. You lost yourself in the feeling of him pressed against you as he continued to kiss down your neck to your collarbone, leaking little hickies and bruises in his wake, claiming you.

“You’re a tease,” You growled at him, “Man up and fuck me like you mean it.”

Jack just laughed at your frustration and pulled your pants around your ankles, making just enough space for him to get between them, repeating the action for his own trousers, freeing his long, thin member. He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding in with ease as you moaned. It had been a while since the last time he’d sunk his cock in you; you had missed the feeling.

He gripped your hips, propping them up against his, forcing you to lay back on the sand. Jack rocked gently into you, allowing you to warm up to his intrusion. Slowly but steadily, he began picking up the pace, sloppily kissing anywhere he could reach.

“Jack,” You moaned, hiding your face in your arm. His hand shot out, gripping your jaw as he forced your eyes to his.

“Don’t hide,” His smile bordered on sadistic. “I want to see your pretty face as you moan for me.”

Jack adjusted his positioning, hitting that spot that never failed to make you squeal and writhe beneath him. It felt amazing, but purposely, it wasn’t enough to get you to tumble over that edge. It only got you riled up until you were teetering on the edge of the cliff, waiting for the gust of wind to send you over.

“I swear, Jack, if you don’t make me cum, I will shoot you,” You threatened, arching you back into him, craving more than he was giving you.

Again, he laughed, reaching under your shirt to tease your taut nipples. Every pinch sent waves of painful pleasure through your body, right down to where that hot coil was tightening at the base of your stomach.

“Fuck, Jack,” You moaned again, brows furrowed in concentration, willing yourself to fall over that edge. You let out slow breaths, each inhale making your pleasure burn hotter, and the coil tightens. “Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna cum.”

“Come for me,” Jack demands as you stumble over the cliff, the coil bursting as aftershocks roll through you. Your pussy clenches around his cock as you spasm, the sensation forcing him to the edge.

Swiftly, Jack pulls out, only managing to stroke himself once or twice before he spurts thick beads of cum over your exposed stomach. He collapsed next to you, using his shirt to clean you up.

“I knew I’d make you smile.” He grabbed the abandoned bottle, taking a long swig. You just hummed in response, eyes closed in satisfaction, a soft smile on your lips.

“I guess you did.”

Tags: @1deadpool26

#Jack Sparrow X Reader #pirates of the caribbean x reader #pirates of the caribbean #finn writes #03.22.24

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ahollowgrave · 3 months

Note

Send 💛 to see them with their best friend (NPC or OC).

-- at the water's edge. [feat. @iron-sparrow!]

Yein is Odette's best friend and also her paladin mentor, truly putting the PAL in paladin! The pair are very close, having even lived together while Odette aided in Yein's recovery from [redacted]. There is very little they wouldn't do for each other.

Thank you so much for the ask @raynshyu!! ][ Screenshot Meme ][

#Pigeon Screens #Answered #Odette Hollows #Hyur #Middie #Duskwight #Elezen #FFXIV Screenshots #[redacted] is 'just' accidental necromancy don't worry about it (:#they're doing much better #just 2 dead pals!!!!#odette has many friends but a lot of them have friends they are!! closer too #but I think her other 'best' friend is probably Yellow Rose who is in some shots!#also like anyone she is close to is either an elezen or a roe #sev is pretty close to her in height tho!!

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tearskillstardust · 2 months

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❝MY LETTER TO YOU, MY DARLING❞

021. 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎—lonesome transcendence does not make up for love.

📬 there's a letter for you in your mailbox!

Y/n,

You would know for certain that I am not familiar with such means of communication. I have assumed for quite a while that both of us wielding an Anemo vision would have meant that you could hear it when I spoke to the wind of you. Now that Moon Carver has clarified my doubt, I am willing to speak to you via this.

I'd still rather that you could speak to the wind.

Regardless, may it be that Inazuma is treating you well. Business of import and exports is always a busy one, and you've never been the kind to slack. The best thing about you as a person, perhaps. But I've heard from many that Inazuma is currently facing political turbulence and there may be problems in the sea route. I can't say much with certainty, but use your discernment. Bear in mind that you can only serve others so long as you yourself are doing well.

Rex La Zhongli believes that I've returned to my old, reclusive ways in the time you've been away. He didn't say it to me, he said it to Barba Venti, that bard from Mondstadt, when they were sharing wine in a room alone. I managed to hear it somehow, and still ponder it when I'm alone.

Old ways, huh.

I won't deny that you do make everything look easier. It's easier to speak to others when you're around. It's almost like I'm as normal as the next person, but alas, such mindset is hazardous for someone such as I.

But you turned it upside-down—every belief I had of me.

It was both refreshing and scary. I felt like listening closer to the sparrow, or keenly watch the water as it falls. I see pearls in them nowadays, and the flowers seem to sing. The wind reminds me of you—and I'm not so repulsed when I catch a glimpse of myself in the water. 'Like the moon', you said when I asked what I meant to you.

But I knew even then of your curious intimacy with the moon, dancing in its rays as though reborn of its plenilune gaze. How can I thank you, I really wonder sometimes. This perplexation is why, perhaps, I choose rather to express nothing of my feelings at all, and instead bestow upon you tokens of my infinite love.

You may be wondering where this is coming from.

Cloud Retainer said that Lantern Rite was almost a festival of love, though absent-mindedly. Moon Carver said everyone will listen if you know when to appeal to them. Traveller said expressing yourself to others brings them closer.

The bard said you would always love me.

Born of it was this letter, and flowers of Qingxin which are your favourite. I assume your tea packets must have nearly exhausted by now, so I'm sending some more. They're in another packet, do utilise them. If you ever need anything more, simply let me know, I'll be there for you.

Since you must be curious, everyone here is fine and enjoying themselves. They miss you, I overheard. I didn't approach anyone, in case you'd like to know, too. The usual.

Regardless, enjoy yourself in Inazuma. It is not so different from Liyue I've heard, though quieter. That would make sense. Don't be a dummy, and don't take any risks.

Keep safe.

Xiao.

p.s. I received your parcels, and since I'm no personal fan of sweets, I gave half of them to Qiqi, I hope you don't mind. The books are safe in your study and, yes, I really liked the rice wine, thank you.

taglist→ @navxry @reixtsu

please comment on the master post to be added to the taglist, thank you !

#💌my letter to you my darling #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #xiao genshin impact #xiao x reader

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wandabear · 10 months

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EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY [CH 5] - WANDA MAXIMOFF X F!READER

ㅤㅤㅤ

Summary: Y/N proposes to Wanda and she says… no. That’s when things get complicated, too much.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x f!reader | Natasha Romanoff x oc ㅤㅤㅤ

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX - finale

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Warning: Somewhat graphic MCU violence, death, ANGST and FLUFF. Mentions about abuse. As you know me: Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. This mcu style is my own, Natasha Romanoff will not die here. She deserves to be happy.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Songs for you: Ivy Willow

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER FIVE

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Thank you, auntie Y/N.” Morgan Stark said with the most adorable smile as she walked hand in hand with y/n.

Y/N took care of the kid that day and together they toured the Compound while Tony finished signing some papers and chatted with Steve, trying to keep things at peace.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

After eating together one of the most delicious cheeseburgers and fries -Morgan's favorites-, she walked with her to the entrance where Tony and Steve were waiting for them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Aw. You're welcome, sweetie.” The inhuman smiled and leaned in to receive little Morgan's hug. “Thank you for keeping me company today. I couldn't have done it without you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I love you, auntie Y/N. See you later!” Morgan smiled and ran over to her dad, who helped the kid get into the car and fasten the seatbelt. Steve stepped forward to go inside the compound, it was going to rain soon.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N smiled at Tony. “That girl is getting bigger and smarter, Tony. She's soon going to take our jobs.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“What can I say? I was part of the creation of this masterpiece.” Stark joked and both laughed.

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Here they were, years later, Tony became one of the few people left in her life. All the grudges of the past had been left behind.

Y/N kept hands in the pockets of her coat, watching the trees moving slowly. This time it wasn't Y/N who summoned the storm.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You okay?” Tony took off his glasses, he seemed quite worried.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Yeah.” Y/N sighed and shrugged. “Just tired, there are too many problems on this planet and universe to deal with.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Well, that is now YOUR problem, but… You should eat better, kid, I see you a little pale.” Tony patted her shoulder and smiled, but still looked a bit worried. “I'll tell Pepper and she's going to scold you. She will send you a cook to follow you everywhere, reminding you to eat.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N giggled tiredly and nodded slowly. “Take care, Tony. Take care of them, you deserve it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“If you need something…” He tried.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I'll work it out with Steve, Yelena or Bruce. You rest.”

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All these years Y/N had been practicing her powers with Jules, Bruce also helped her to understand herself a bit more. Over time she learned to control it almost perfectly.

Y/N possessed the ability of atmokinesis, one of the most powerful abilities in existence, where one can control and manipulate the various forms and aspects of the weather itself.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Thor used to say that he was happy with the news, now he could share something so beautiful with a warrior like her. Summoning the most powerful lightning they have ever seen.

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Jules possessed the ability of nature manipulation, another of the most important powers. Although she mostly had developed much more control over plants and some living beings. According to her, they used to whisper to her. Y/N smiled when she remembered that moment, in that same place a few years ago. She used to tease Jules saying she was crazy, because the brunette once said that a sparrow insulted her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N… I swear, that bird called me a ‘shameless slut’ and he then flew away!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah, sure, I will definitely never believe that.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Together, they were invincible. They could make total chaos as well as something very beautiful for this planet. Y/N's idea was to protect this world that was left, while Jules... well, remained a prisoner of her suffering.

Y/N went back into the Compound, stopping to look at that mural in front of her, mural recognizing those who had fallen.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

NATASHA ROMANOFF WANDA MAXIMOFF JAMES BUCHANAN ‘BUCKY’ BARNES CLINT BARTONSAMUEL WILSON

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Y/N stood still looking at the names, thinking about everything that happened all this time. She covered her face with her hands, the stress that Y/N felt lately was overwhelming.

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“So, Stark stopped by to say hi?” Yelena walked over, this time she wasn't wearing her Black Widow outfit. She always knew how to dress in style, maybe she was coming back from visiting Kate who lived in New York now.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“He came to tell us that Avengers Tower was going to be sold.” Y/N smiled sadly. “And that if we needed something, we could always count on him. He’s going to retire to take care of Morgan and Pepper.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The blonde nodded. Those names made Y/N shed a tear that quickly dried up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I miss her so much, you know?” Y/N swallowed hard and closed her eyes, trying to stay strong but it was so hard lately. Especially when the memories grew heavier in her heart. “She’s the love of my life, how come I'm still doing all this? Why am I still alive?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N couldn't help but wept, feeling Yelena's arms surround her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“There are days where I don't know how to go on without Wanda.” The agent sobbed in anguish, she always tried to be positive and strong but she no longer knew how to keep going. Especially with some of the remaining Avengers spread across the world. “I- I just… I make myself some tea and I just start crying, and I cry until the tea gets cold, a-and then I have to make another one.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Yelena pursed her lips trying not to cry, but tears welled up in those green eyes. Both tried to be strong for each other.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ "Sometimes… I repeat to myself over and over again: what was the scent... what did her hair smell like? Because I remember it was raspberries but what if I forget? What if... I can't remember anymore?" Y/N smiled sadly. “I feel like I'm missing three pieces of my heart, and the only one that holds everything is you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I know, Y/N/N. I miss Natasha too.” The russian cooed, hugging her tightly. “It hurts me so much… Sometimes I talk to her, whistle to her... but she doesn't answer. I’ve loved her so much.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Now she was the one who broke down crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m sorry.” Y/N looked down to see how Yelena hid her face in that hug, and just kissed her forehead, both consoling each other in a big hug at that moment.

Yelena wasn’t the kind of person who shows her feelings easily. No. Fuck, she used to just growl and roll her eyes at her but all this time... all this pain, she could only show it with Y/N.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you think they're okay? Wherever they are.” Yelena sniffled.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I dunno, blondie.” Y/N sighed. “But I hope so.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

That beautiful moment lasted for a while until Steve quickly led, with a rather worried and confused face.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N, Yelena… You two need to see who's at the compound gate now.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And when they heard the whole story that Scott Lang had to tell them, they were even more confused and perhaps… deep down, hopeful.

The noise of breaking glass and shots was all that could be heard, besides desperate screams of the members of that gang.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s her! She’s after Javier!” One of the gang members yelled in Spanish and fired his machine gun into a dark corner of the street. A few seconds later, that same man was thrown into the air and hit the wall with such force that he died on impact.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The female figure of a black-haired woman stepped out of the darkness, a proud smile and brown eyes filled with a desire for revenge.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Todos van a morir, pero ahora solo quiero a Javier. Entréguenmelo y podrán irse. [You all going to die, but right now I only want Javier. Give it to me, and you can go.]” The brunette ordered willing to let go, for now. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

None seemed to obey, in fact some of them laughed and looked at each other.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Good, your choice.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

That woman raised her hands and killed several of those criminals, using vines to catch them, she took one and attracted one using him as a shield.

Jules smiled coquettishly then blew some spores into the man's face, like a poisonous kiss. The man's horrified look changed to a more relaxed one, the irises of his eyes turning green. “You want to protect me, and now… You’re going to kill all of your friends, then yourself.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Exactly as she said, the man fired at his own people and then shot himself. Jules sighed and walked to the second floor of that building, where another group of thugs fired at her. One by one, she took it upon herself to clear the path.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“What do you want?! I didn’t do anything to you!” The leader of the gang asked, walking backwards. There was nothing left but to give up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You’ve survived.” Jules said as she slowly walked towards him. “Half of the planet didn’t.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Even though it was her, that was no longer the same Julia from before. Those five years changed a lot in her mind and her heart.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“They got Thanos… you get me.” Jules cocked her head, biting her lower lip playfully.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Javier knelt down ready to beg for his life, even if his pride said otherwise. “I'll give you what you want, but please, don't kill me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“What I want? You can't give it to me.” Jules whispered venomously. Step by step, it was a death sentence. The vines and the ivy were moved like snakes, searching for their prey.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Por favor, güerita no me mates… Please, please don't kill me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She just raised her hand and one of the vines wrapped around Javier's neck, lifting him into the air. He began to move her legs, desperate.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Julia, stop.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Her best friend's voice made Jules turn to look at the door, perhaps with all the noise of shots and screams she hadn't heard the sound of the storm approaching.

Y/N slowly entered that warehouse.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh, hey sis. Long time no see.” Jules smiled casually, but didn't let the guy get away. “Did you finally come to join the party?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I came to save you.” Y/N swallowed, noticing how the vines moved around her as if they had a life of their own, even if Jules controlled them. “Let him go.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No.” her response was blunt, it even made the vine tighten his neck more. “You... tell her... tell her what you've done.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Please, don’t do this. You’re… not a killer.” Javier could barely say.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh, look around you, I already am.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Jules, stop.” Y/N begged.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Tell my friend what you did and I'll let you live.” Jules jaw clenched, making the vines tighten around the man's neck. He found it difficult to speak, he barely gasped like a fish out of water.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“What are you saying? I can’t hear you-” She said with an adorable smile but ended up shouting: “SPEAK LOUDER!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Julia, THAT'S ENOUGH!” Y/N took a step forward but Jules raised her hand, stopping her with the vines. Jules looked at her seriously, forcing Y/N to stay still and then turned to see the man again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You took that little one, didn't you? A little girl in Morelos. You did these despicable things to her.” She hissed angrily, her gaze locked with the man's, who was struggling to breathe. “A child, and not just one...”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The man just closed his eyes and after a moment, nodded desperately hoping that she would let him go.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“See, Y/N? This happens when you’re soft like we used to be. When justice forgets what it really means.” Jules felt a huge pain inside her, her hands trembled but she was determined to go for it. “No matter how much you fight to be better and let go your past, to redeem yourself…” She thought of Natasha. “…You will die snapped and a rapist son of a bitch will be left alive on this planet.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N nodded, trying to reason with her. “You're right, he deserves to face justice.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Justice?!” Jules laughed wryly. “There’s no justice! Especially when the jury released him because he didn't penetrate one of his victims with his penis… Oh no! He did it with his fingers and tongue, and that to them meant: letting him go!” The brunette screamed, the vines squeezed him enough for him to start turning purple.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Justice. That's what that girl didn't have.” Jules took a shaky breath, those brown eyes no longer showed that warmth, patience and tenderness as before. “But I'll give it to her. To all of them.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Without waiting any longer, Jules moved her hand and the vines broke the nasty guy's neck, letting the lifeless body fall to the ground.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“One less, many to go.” Jules sighed looking at that man's body and then turned around willing to leave that place ignoring her friend. “You shouldn't be here.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Neither should you.” Y/N followed her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I've got a job to do, you're making it more difficult.” Jules heard the police sirens in the distance, so she decided to go back and take the back exit of that warehouse.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Is that what you're calling this?” Y/N walked after her, leaving through the back door of the warehouse. Jules took it upon herself to remove some of the surveillance cameras with ivy before they could capture her. “Killing all these people isn't gonna bring Natasha back.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N tried to take her arm.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“They are not people! They are infections corroding this Earth.” Jules turned, breaking free of her grasp. “The little that remains of this world at least.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You are not the one to decide that.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Neither are you.” Jules snapped.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Natasha wouldn't want this.” Sadness was reflected in Y/N's eyes, who saw her friend as a poor shadow of what she used to be.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“She's not here to decide, is she?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“But she could… if you come with me.” Y/N she released the best bait that she could to catch the biggest fish in the river. Hoping that was enough to get the brunette's attention.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And she did it. Jules turned to look at her, this time in a very different way. This time, a small light of hope was born in those brown eyes or maybe it was the anger she felt if Y/N played with it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Don’t do that. Don't play with it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We found something.” Y/N sighed as she moved closer to her. “A chance, maybe.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s impossible.” Jules narrowed her eyes, not understanding. “You just want to trick me to go back.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No! I swear… There’s a possibility. Just one. But you have to make a decision now, because the police are coming and the quinjet is three fucking blocks away.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Now the concern was reflected in Jules face, there was no way to achieve what she said. “You can't bring anyone back to life, not even I can go that far. Nature wouldn’t allow it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It is not about playing with nature.” Y/N walked in a hurry escaping from the sirens. “It's about going back… Do you love her enough to give it a try?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The raven-haired woman looked thoughtful. “Are you sure of that?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Pretty sure it could work.” Y/N looked at who was her friend for so long, for a moment she believed that the sparkle in those eyes had returned. “But we need you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Don’t.” Jules said barely, like a sigh.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Don't what?” She stopped, making Y/N turn to look at her. The neon signs reflected their faces, like the most beautiful work of art.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Please, don’t give me hope.” Jules pleaded.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And for the first time, Y/N's serious look turned into a softer one. “I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you sooner.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

They spent days trying to plan everything they had to do perfectly. Each of the stones they had to 'borrow' and then return. A time heist. Each of them had a plan, but that wasn't what mattered right now.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Tomorrow, we will be saving the ones we love the most.” Y/N took the beer and toasted against the brunette's, who was only watching through the big window.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Tomorrow.” Jules sighed, her heart skipped a beat at the thought. “Do you think they will understand?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I think so… Yeah, I'm not going to be the one to tell Wanda that her favorite band split up two years ago.” Y/N said making her friend laugh again, missed that nice sound so much. “But fuck, I'm going to tell her that Britney won the damn lawsuit.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N laughed and then brushed a few crumbs off her shirt, making the ring she was wearing as a pendant to bounce.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Still carrying that thing?” Jules smiled tenderly looking at the ring.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N looked at it got lost in memories. The ring with which she proposed to Wanda so long ago. “And I will forever.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She smiled at her friend, who understood perfectly. The raven-haired woman nodded slowly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“If I had married someone... it would definitely have been Nat. She would say ‘No, thank you!’, of course, but at least I would have tried.” Jules said with a broody smile. Natasha Romanoff left a hole in her heart, taken it away forever.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wanda wanted us to get married when we got back from Wakanda.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Maybe you guys can get it right this time. You know that Wanda loved you deeply, right?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I know… I loved her so much, so much that part of me is no longer mine but hers.” She sighed. “And I'm going to keep this.” Y/N looked at that ring with sadness but also hope. “Until I see her again, this is it, Jules. This is how we get them.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I hope so. I don't know what I'll do otherwise.” Jules looked down, feeling the full weight of her actions.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

At that moment Yelena walked through the living room door, heading straight for Jules. Of course Yelena hadn't been there those days, she was trying to help Steve to convince Tony to help them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yelena, wait-” Y/N got up seeing the anger on the blonde's face and remembering that she hadn't had the courage to tell her that Jules was back.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No, let her do it.” Jules got up from her seat, clearing her throat uncomfortably. “I know you might hate me but-”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Without further ado, Yelena hit the brunette's face making her face to turn around, Jules noticed blood dripping from her lip. And if that hadn't surprised her too much, after the punch the blonde came to hug her tightly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m glad you’re here.” Yelena murmured staying in that embrace for a while. “We're family. I don't want to lose any more sisters... I missed the three of us.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And how not to do it? Ever since Y/N and Jules had their separate ways, Yelena always felt in between. With no big sister, feeling like a child with her parents divorced, she didn't know which of them to turn to.

Jules looked up at Y//N and just stroked Yelena's blonde hair slowly. They both looked at each other and nodded. They were all Yelena had left, and none of them had given her a thought.

“Tell me again, why did you bring her?” Tony asked again, narrowing his eyes at the brunette. “She could kill us in a flash.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jules chuckled. “Yeah, I'm not that fast, Stark.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Isn't that what we need? We need people willing to give everything.” Y/N she sighed, running a hand over her face. It was the third time she'd answered that all damn day.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Steve…”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Steve, who was there with his arms crossed, just stared at them seriously.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We all deserve a second chance. We can all regret what we have done, and then do better.” Steve nodded solemnly. If Jules was going to bring something good to that mission and she was going to keep someone from dying, then she was welcome.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jules arched an amused brow. “Yeah, I'm not sorry for what I did... I’m just here to help, that’s it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Shut up, Julia. You're not helping.” Y/N growled.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Between twists and turns, everyone managed to resolve their differences before keep going with the plan. Each of them had to follow the 'time heist' plan and bring the gems.

And they all made it, making it back alive for the big test. Of course, Y/N kept saying how great it was to see the first S.H.I.E.L.D. base in 1970. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Now, Bruce was ready to snap and change everything. Around him were all of the avengers, who watched him as if in his hands kept the most precious treasure in the Universe. And it was. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you sure, Bruce?” Steve asked one more time. “I can do it too.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No, I was made for this.” Bruce sighed deeply and after taking courage, he settled the gauntlet on his arm.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Slowly, the power of the gauntlet was consuming him, making him scream in pain. They all walked away in surprise, but they couldn't interfere even if they wanted to.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Bruce, remember, everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago...” Y/N explained carefully, watching the gauntlet light up when the big guy put it on. “You're just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last five years.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Please.” Tony added.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Got it.” Bruce growled.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

One.

Two.

Three.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Snap.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Bruce knelt in pain and the way the power of the gauntlet burned his arm made everyone shocked.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Did it work, Bruce Banner?” Yelena asked curiously.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Everyone looked at each other for a moment, their phones started ringing instantly and that brought a smile to everyone. Y/N took her phone and watched that something that she hadn’t seen for a long time, now was shown on the screen.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

'INCOMING CALL WANDA MAXIMOFF ...'

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N smiled widely and answered the call.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wands?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ But the call ended.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And they wish they had time to celebrate or answer; one of Thanos' ships stood behind the Compound. And the first thing he did was bombard the quinjets, taking away their chance to use them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Everyone managed to stay safe, while the team tried to fight Thanos hand to hand, others tried to take the gauntlet and escape with it so that the titan wouldn’t have it again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The powerful triad of the Avengers faced him, Thor, Tony and Steve. But he also faced Y/N, Jules, and the Hulk in an epic battle. They didn’t expect that attack, much less in such a treacherous way.

And although they thought that everything would end in the worst way, not just one but several portals opened on that battlefield.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Each of their friends passed through the portal, returning to their side, ready to once again face that enemy, together.

Y/N sighed and tried not to cry when she saw how Wanda ran towards her and melted into the strongest and most needed hug of their lives. Closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by her scent, giggling happily at the scent of Wanda’s hair.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Oh, raspberries.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

A small tear escaped from her eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Strange told us.” Wanda cupped Y/N's face in her hands. She looked so… same and different. Y/N's face looked different, not much but small details that she noticed. “Five years, right?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah.” Y/N closed her eyes, getting lost in the feeling for a moment.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Five years, wow…h-how are you? Are you okay?” Wanda asked really worried.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Can we talk about that later?” Natasha arched an eyebrow, nodding as Thanos's army regrouped on the horizon.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N breathed deeply watching that terrifying landscape, but despite the fear, Wanda's hand taking hers made her smile. Of course they could against this. They had survived the worst, they could against everything.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And both armies finally met. Y/N rose into the air and used her powers, making a hurricane to get rid of some enemies. This time there was no doubt using those powers, it was a perfect execution.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You are…” Wanda exclaimed in surprise. They both made an incredible team up now.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Total control, huh!” Y/N smirked and then rose up. “You should see this!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Her eyes turned white for a moment, and the sky roared like never before. Several lightning bolts fell towards her and towards her enemies. Without stopping, they both fought to protect Peter Parker who stole the gauntlet, getting it as far away from Thanos as possible. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I already saw the boy, he's coming your way, Strange!” Natasha said through her earpiece and fired at one of the aliens, killing him. But someone worse stood a few meters in front of her, showing that big spear.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Not this bitch again.” Natasha complained, seeing how Proxima smiled creepily.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The black widow prepared herself for the attack, she was ready to face her when some huge vines opened up the earth and took Proxima, getting rid of her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Hey.” Jules smiled at her and stoodnext to her, surprising the redhead. Then raised her hand, making some thorny vines to grab many aliens and completely destroy them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You-” Nat opened her mouth but didn't know what to say, just smiled back.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Pretty badass, don't you think?” Jules nodded watching as the earth swallowed them. “They will be a good fertilizer for the soil.”

ㅤㅤㅤ “That wasn't fair, I was about to finish her off.” Natasha teased, smirking.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Sucks to be you... But by the way: You’re my whole world, Romanoff. I want you to know that.” Without further ado, the brunette approached to kiss Natasha's lips, just a peck. “’kay, gotta go. Don’t die this time!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The redhead just smiled and shook her head, running in the opposite direction.

And despite the losses that are always to be expected in a war, they did it well. Except for Carol, who was still recovering after she'd snapped. She was powerful, sure, but that was a very potent amount of energy.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ The corridors of the Avengers Compound were full of people coming and going. The medical room was being occupied by everyone who was badly injured, Dr. Cho was crowded but thanked the civilian medical staff who offered to help them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N kept her arms crossed, watching and making sure everyone was okay. Her tired eyes showed how she felt, beside being in pain. Several cuts and bruises in her face and body showed it.

She turned on her heels to leave for a moment, nodding to Steve who was chatting with Tony, Maria Hill and Nick Fury about everything that had happened.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Now everyone was back and despite the fact that it was a great joy, the world was once again in chaos.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Agent Y/L/N.” Nick turned around so she could shake hands with her. “Here they have told me the great job you have done trying to keep us standing.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Thank you, sir. I only did what I have been taught in S.H.I.E.L.D.” Y/N smiled and nodded kindly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I taught you well then.” Maria Hill said under her breath and they both laughed. Y/N patted the Maria's shoulder and kept walking, looking for that special someone.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She searched the living area, the lounge, and the medical wing but couldn't find Wanda anywhere.

Not until she saw how a brown haired lady escaping from her, walking quickly towards the main entrance hall.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wanda.” Y/N called out to her loud enough to make her stop.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda turned around slowly, she looked like she had been crying, because her eyes were a bit puffy and red. She looked quite nervous, looking towards the door as if she wanted to get out.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Why are you avoiding me?” That sounded sadder than she expected. You could tell the pain in Y/N's voice, and the obvious confusion.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No, why do you say that?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m not stupid.” Y/N chuckled sadly. “I haven't seen you since we were separated in the Med wing. I've been looking for you for a long time.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah… I needed some air.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N approached her, both watched the outskirts of the compound with longing. “Are you okay?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Five years, right?” Wanda swallowed, unable to look at her. Couldn't or she would break. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N sighed. “Yeah.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I think… I think I'm not ready for this.” The brunette looked down, playing with her rings.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N cocked her head to see her. “Ready for what?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“To do this, Y/N.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wow, no ‘detka’ this time.” Y/N gave a sad and ironic giggle. She didn't understand what the hell was happening now. “I don't understand.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N, it's been five years.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah, five fucking years go by and the first thing you do is walk away and ignore me.” Y/N she said a bit annoyed and hurt. “Would you please tell me why?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Because I'm not ready to know how you moved on!” Wanda finally snapped. “I'm not ready to…” Wanda cleared her throat, trying to be strong and not cry but it was so hard. “I'm not ready to see how you've moved on from me or met someone else.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N frowned and thought about stopping her, but she had every right to express her feelings. She wanted to know how Wanda felt.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“While for you it was five years, for me it was just... minutes.” The sokovian began pacing back and forth, finally letting go of everything she kept inside. “And I come back and I see you... so different and at the same time the same. Don't get me wrong, you look as beautiful as ever but I feel like... I've missed so much.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

"You have… you have a scar there, on your eyebrow, and I- I don't know how you got it! And and I feel so… I left you." Wanda began to cry, and although Y/N wanted to hug her, she only reached out her hand to take Wanda's and gently pull her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“How do you think it feels to know that? I've abandoned you for years. God!” Wanda approached to surround her in a hug, hiding her face in Y/N's chest. “The things you've experienced and I wasn't there. You were alone.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I wasn’t alone.” It was the first thing Y/N said as she stroked her back.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“That's why... Maybe you've met someone.” Wanda looked up and tried to get away from her. “I'm not ready to know that you don't love me anymore.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I wasn't alone, I had my friends.” Y / N smiled tenderly and gently caressed Wanda's cheek. “Wanda... I haven't stopped thinking about you, I never stopped doing it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She took her beloved's chin to look into those green eyes. A heart that found its other side again, finally, their souls were entwined once more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I love you. I have loved you these five years... where I didn’t stop thinking about you, loving you, needing you.” Y/N she whimpered and wiped away the tears that began to fall. “I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. You don't know how horrible it was to live without you, you don't know how difficult it is. Cause it wasn't 'living'. You have no idea how gray the world is without you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Tears began to escape from Wanda's eyes and she didn't stop them. They both needed this, they needed to heal.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Please, don't walk away.” Y/N begged, feeling Wanda cradle her face in her hands. “I only know that I survived because I had to, because I couldn't leave them alone... because I don't want to be without you anymore. I just can’t. I can’t do it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The sokovian hugged her tightly, allowing them both to release into a healing cry. Feeling the warmth of the other's body, all the pain could finally be left behind.

All those sad dates, all those lonely birthdays, all those cold nights.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I love you, Wanda.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I love you so much, detka. I'm so sorry...” She put her forehead against Y/N's, getting lost in that beautiful feeling. “We won't be apart again. Promise we won't.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Nothing will separate us again, my love.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jules lowered her gaze and hurried her step in that hallway, trying to get out of that place as soon as possible. Her heart was heavy but she had to do the right thing.

At least this time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She was about to walk out of the Compound when a figure crossed in front of her, so fast. There was no doubt that this woman was one of the best spies in the world.

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“Aw! Not even a hug? I see you're not a fan of goodbyes.” Natasha watched her out of the corner of her eye, crossing her arms.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jules swallowed, this was what she least wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Everyone is there with their loved ones but you… you’re running away without even saying goodbye to me.” Natasha stood idly by, quite hurt. Although the first thing she did was make sure Yelena was safe, Natasha had not forgotten Jules. “Running away like a quiet and scared mouse.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m not a scared mouse.” Jules narrowed her eyes. Those words made Natasha raise an eyebrow, Jules would never have spoken like that.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I don't even deserve that? I understand that five years have passed for you, you must… you must have formed another more important bond or whatever…. Or maybe you just stopped loving me, but I am not even worthy of a goodbye?” The redhead scoffed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Nat-” Jules tried.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I would like an explanation, because the last thing I remember is that we were... in love.” She wasn't going to deny that it hurt her deeply. “I understand. I wasn't very direct with that, I admit it... besides that a lot of time has passed and we didn't get to make it official, but that didn't mean I didn’t loved you! I did! I DO!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Nat…” Jules came over, trying to calm me down. She just cradled Nat's face in those soft hands. “It's not that.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jules sighed deeply, she didn't have time to explain.

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“I love you, more than my own life.” The raven-haired girl placed her forehead against hers. “I would give everything for you, I gave everything for you to be here.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Then tell me what's going on...” Natasha pleaded in a whisper, those beautiful eyes sparkling. This was one of the few times that she could see Nat being herself, opening her heart.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jules leaned in and kissed her lips, losing herself in them. Didn’t care more than to relive that feeling, that warmth. Nat was alive, she was next to her. As soon as they parted from the kiss, the inhuman hugged Natasha tightly.

Her biggest fear was losing her again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I just didn't want you to see it…” Jules swallowed. “I didn't want them to do it in front of you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha looked at her with confusion and concern. “Do what? Who?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I did some really fucked up things this time where you weren't, Nat... I- I don't expect you to understand me, I just... maybe one day I can explain. They will tell you many things about me, most of them are true... others not so much. And I’m sorry.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

At that time, General Ross entered with a group of US marshalls and surrounded them. Of course they left Natasha aside, they only came to handcuff Jules who didn't object. Her gaze stayed on Nat's. Sure they had technology strong enough to weaken her, but Jules wasn't going to run away. Not this time.

In fact, it was obvious that she knew perfectly well that this would happen, because Jules never resisted or tried to escape.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Ross, what are you doing?” Natasha asked but one of the Marshalls pushed her back.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“My job, Ms. Romanoff. Just my job.” Ross nodded and they walked carrying Jules, although the arrival of the others Avengers made them stop.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“What’s going on here?” Steve frowned. “Ross, we can't go through this now.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

At that moment Y/N arrived, pushing whoever had to to face Ross.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You can't do that, she's an avenger.” Y/N tried to intercede adn take her friend, but was stopped by the Marshalls. “Take your hands off me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Julia Hale, you're under arrest for mass murder in several countries including the United States of America, eco-terrorism, mass property damage, conspiracy, torture, assault, kidnapping… You have the right… to not much at all after that, to be fair.” He sneered. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jules glanced sideways at Ross, who seemed quite pleased. “They were bad people.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Ross… She saved half of the universe with us.” Tony stepped forward, ready to intercede too. “There's still fresh blood on her face, look at her! She just saved the world with all of us! Let her go… for now.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I know, Stark, but it's not up to me. It will depend on U.S. Goverment.” General Ross started walking towards the entrance, where the SUV's were ready to go.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s okay, I knew this would happen. We made a deal.” Jules looked back, seeing Y/N but was pushed forward.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N frowned. “A deal?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“They let me help you if I agreed to go with them, for good.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Where are you going to take her?” Wanda asked, feeling the same indignation as her beloved. She hated seeing her like that.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“The Raft, until it's time for her to have a fair trial at the Capitol.” Ross nodded and the Marshalls loaded Jules into the SUV. “It's not up to me to give her a pardon, it's up to them.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Don't worry, I have a cousin who is a very good lawyer!” The huge Bruce smiled and held up his phone, which made her smile.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Everyone was quite upset and outraged, Tony was talking to Pepper to find a good 'lawyer' to help them with this, besides calling the necessary contacts he had at the Capitol. Wanda took Y/N's hand, who stood watching her friend being taken away and couldn't do anything.

Even if she wanted to, she couldn't make it worse.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But the one who seemed most devastated was Natasha, who watched everything without knowing what to say. She had no idea what was happening, the redhead just went to the car’s door to see her one last time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m sorry.” Jules moved her lips, watching Natasha, before the truck moved away from the place. Leaving the redhead more confused than ever.

“So…” Wanda murmured entering the room, looking around. Everything felt so new. Y/N invited Wanda to sleep with her in her room. “It was hell.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah.” Y/N sighed as she slowly removed her suit, the wounds making her hiss. “The first year we were together, Yelena kept us here. We couldn't leave her alone, we had all lost something.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The sokovian sat on the bed, watching as Y/N changed. Her gaze fell on the new scars on Y/N’s body, thinking about everything Y/N went through, without her. She couldn't protect her. Maybe if she was there, those wounds wouldn't have happened.

After taking a nice shower, they both lay down on the bed so they could snuggle together.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I started going to some meetings, you know which ones. About loss.” Y/N took some of her big shirts and handed one to her girlfriend, putting one on as well. “It didn't help me much but it kept me standing, enough to keep me going for a while longer.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda hugged the side of her body, caressing her belly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“But not Jules. She said that wasn't helping her, then she started to feel… angry.” Y/N was somewhat thoughtful. “As she learned more about her powers, Jules began to feel everything even more. She has a great connection with nature and that… that made her take a different path.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N frowned and swallowed. “I tried to make her stay with us but we couldn't. She didn't want to be here, brought back too many memories... About Nat and that, and we couldn't force her.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We lost contact for a few months until... we started receiving some weird cases. They were all bad people, that person was targeting criminals, murderers, cartel people, hunters.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m so sorry, detka. Really.” Wanda whispered. She felt so helpless and angry. Thanos took everything from her. “I'm so sorry about that. I'm sorry I left you alone.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s okay now.” She smiled at Wanda, leaving a small kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes feeling that perfume once more. Yes, everything was back to normal. “I’m so happy you’re here, that's all that matters now.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you want to sleep?” Wanda asked as she gently caressed her beloved's face, removing some strands of hair.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm exhausted, I would sleep for weeks, but I don't want to stop looking at you.” Y/N muttered, her voice slightly scratchy. Her body ached too much, feeling a stabbing pain in muscles that she didn't even know existed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda smiled tenderly, kissing her chin. “I promise to be here in the morning.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Pinky promise?” She brought her pinky so they could intertwine.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Pinky promise, detka.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

They both laughed and snuggled again when Y/N turned off the lights on the nightstand. They were silent for a moment, sharing only the beat of their hearts, until Wanda spoke:

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ “How did you get this one?” The Sokovian traced her fingers over one of the scars on Y/N's stomach, slowly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I stumbled across a turtle.” Y/N bit her lip trying not to laugh, but Wanda just laughed and patted her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Come on, you dork. Tell me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I was bitten by a beaver.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N!” Wanda complained and Y/N burst out laughing.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wanda?” Y/N bit her lower lip.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Mhm?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Taylor Swift released two albums in a single year… and they are very cottage core.” Y/N couldn't help but say it, knowing that it was one of her beloved's favorites.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh God. How good is to be back!” Wanda chuckled amusedly, leaning in to look at her. “Which is your favorite?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N bit her lower lip, forgetting her tiredness for a moment and took one of her headphones from the nightstand, she kept one and gave one to Wanda.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Friday? Please, could you play 'Willow'?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

‘Of course, Ms. Y/L/N.’

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“This one is for you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

'Willow' started to play, making them both smile as they listened to the song.

Tears fell down Wanda's cheeks upon hearing such beautiful words, tears that Y/N tenderly wiped away.

They spent some time looking into each other's eyes, listening some songs and exchanging smiles until sleep came over them.

✨✨ Yeah, I was thinking about the finale... until @imnotasuperhero wanted a bit more. ✨✨ Don't hate me, hate her, poking the bear is never the answer. I'll bite.🐻 (kidding, i don't bite... yet.) here goes some amazing and lovely people tags ✨ : @wandsmxmff, lonewalker17, tsmeanobody, dark-hunter16, lattayhottay16, natashaswifeu, silverockmusic, kacka84, emeraldevan! @sunsol-22 @dparker0 @imnotasuperhero @pawiie

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

159 notes · View notes

spotsupstuff · 5 months

Text

Iterators, of course, aren't made capable of resting. They are here to work.

Even if biological to a degree, the components of the Hiveminds either take careful turns for a shut eye or they work themselves to death from exhaustion. Terrifying-, is Three Sparrows' opinion on that, -but they can't live any differently. Just like moths without mouths or crazed fish fighting against the streams of oceans, that's just how their Cycles are predetermined.

But there's these few rare days... Especially with the newer Iterators- those that are still chugging through life like newborn rain deer fawns, unsure in their existence, a little too vulnerable- when they slow down for a thorough, long debug session.

For the citizens this means a little dimmer day. A little bit of detoxification from screens as nonessential devices shut down or receive far too little power from the hearts of the Iterator. As those beats slow down and the energy that does get generated from them is more focused internally.

For her, as his Mechanic, this means an especially busy couple of days. Anxiety inducing ones, too.

First thing in the morning of the first day, Sparrows sends her charge a question- "how did the debug start up go?"- then remembers that the drama queen that is Caper of Euros does not wish to be bothered to formulate as horrendous things as whole words at this stage, because, in his words: "You don't understand just how *draining* it is to put together syllables in such a state!". So she adds a little unprofessional "doin good?" supplement message right after.

It takes unnaturally long for him to respond (twenty whole seconds!!!) with a singular checkmark. She breathes a sigh of relief and allows herself to go about her day now.

The city of Ales keeps relatively quiet. The typical churn of energy, cogs and thoughts of a behemoth beneath her feet is near silent even in the depths of the inner subway system. The traffic lights blink a little slower, the fake birds overhead sing just that tad bit louder. The children freed from school thanks to the low current bump into her by accident as they chase each other through the city square. Three Sparrows clutches her breakfast, gives the little rascals some mock chase with her fist waving in the air and then she sits down to finally scorf that food down.

First day is the hardest. This one is dedicated to check ups of the hearts, gravity generators and the memory arrays. All of that is functioning at its bare minimum right now and she better make use of that! Less thunderous beats for her body to weather even through the suit specialized for this, less frustrating fights against complete antigravity and less train of thoughts for her to derail by accidentally bumping into the softer bits of his mind.

She won't get to really interact with Euros today- or well... at least he won't be able to respond much to her day's worth of effort like he'd usually do. It's still strange to think of that. Running all around someone's body yet not actually properly interacting. This job forces a person through so many paradigm shifts... It gets exhausting to change one's understanding of simply *being* so many times.

So today she ensures his hearts are without a single scratch. That the Void Fluid trapped inside of the water is still spinning right (that part is always needlessly scary. the Void stuff can't be trusted, no matter how holy the preachers say it is, Three Sparrows on a Wire doesn't give a damn). She checks all the cables and tubes surrounding them, the antigravity generators solely dedicated to only this giant chamber all the while trying to keep her own little heart from panicking at the loud noise.

Manually she visits all the major generators sprinkled through the facility and runs diagnostics on the lesser ones through her watch. She amputates and treats the biological parts of the arrays that need it, tells hi to a sleepy yet determined Inspector that came to check it out, pries neuron flies out of weird places they somehow managed to wedge themselves into and takes a peek into Euros' mental state as per regulations.

She already knows his priority list won't make the demanded norms. Her own name shines at her from the first spot, forcing all too familiar self-blame to bloom in her chest. With a swipe of a finger, the screen disappears. Her final report will have lies in it again, then. Nobody can know.

At 23:11, fifteen hours since the beginning of the work day, Three Sparrows stumbles out of the stuffy biomechanical guts of her boyfriend without popping into the puppet chamber once absolutely destroyed.

"Oh, I always forget how sweet the evening air is. Void below, wow," she says, taking a deep breath before dragging herself home.

Aching limbs force her to skip normal dinner for easier-to-prepare and consume nutritional supplements, but they don't manage to stop her from making it to the daily family call. Or from quietly hacking into Euros' systems afterwards.

There's a spike of panic in the entire Hivemind, according to the live diagnostic program running on her watch and she looks on as his systems reach for the firewalls he unconsciously dropped alongside his damn heart rate (most likely, she has yet to catch the moment when he actually drops them). Three Sparrows can't help but grin to herself a little as she turns off her computer's cloaking *just* before the firewalls reactivate. The recognition of her IP address is instantaneous- telling by the sudden stop of Euros' frantic efforts at self-defense.

At least for a few seconds. Then he's rapidly purging her out and slamming the firewalls back into their place behind her. She barely manages to burst into laughter and her watch already pings with a new message. Message in question? Only reads a singular period.

But oh, those few pixels somehow manage to obtain all the dramatic affront, anger and disbelief a typical Euros rant would have. It only makes her laugh harder.

When she finally wills herself to stop, lest she gets a headache, she replies: "when will you finally remember to *not* become a sitting mouse for hackers during your debugging. you dumbass you!"

Euros replies with another period.

"watch out for yourself, ok? just bc im tots willing to break a guys face in the name of keeping your giant eight legged box butt safe doesnt mean im exactly itching for that kinda situation" "now good luck during the night. i gotta go take a five everything hurts"

Two periods and a second later, a heart.

Sparrows smiles at the screen a little, turns off her computer and climbs into the soft bed sheets.

The next day flies by a little easier. This one is dedicated to check ups of technologies related to production of the biological Hivemind members. There's quite a lot of those scattered through the whole body of Caper of Euros, but at least the hearts are beating a little faster today which means the gravity generators everywhere are stronger and that again means Sparrows gets to call upon an Inspector to hitch a ride with it for the whole day. No solo swimming in 0g this time!

All the production centres end up being more or less perfectly fine. Any damage caused by use is miniscule enough to not matter and be fixed naturally in a matter of days. As it should be with all Iterators out of their test run phases.

A small feeling of pride settles warmly behind her ribs. Another thing she can be almost certain to check off the long long list of her duties as a Mechanic, another Euros' step towards being completely self-dependent and, for the lack of biomechanical term on an Iterator scale, fully mature.

He's progressing despite small hiccups here and there and she couldn't be happier.

Though, one thing she will admit.

As she gives her goodbye to today's guide, Sparrows just can't wait for this day to be over. It won't be admitted aloud, especially where Euros could hear her, but she's starting to painfully miss their usual interactions.

Sure, today her interactions with him were... "closer" than yesterday, but it still wasn't it.

Another dissonance. Even being near something more closer to her level than the entirety of his physical body is not exactly a direct mutual interaction. The Inspector nuzzled to her, held her, clicked at her in some attempts at communication. And it was Euros, but... also just such a small piece of him.

So small, that it almost borders on meaningless. But it hurts to think of anything with such personality and role in the grand scheme of him as meaningless so she quickly shakes that thought out of her head.

It is strange. But she doesn't mind calling the *puppet* meaningless. That thing is what her heart yearns for now, whose embrace she's currently missing- its carmine coloration and big dark lenses are what her eyes are searching for. And still, the cynical and rational part of her dubs that piece useless without an issue.

Because the puppets are useful with their emptiness. The uselessness makes them precious, paradoxically enough.

She's even writing a paper on this subject, questioning if the existence of these masks or decoys- essentially inherent lies- are really so important. So naturally, her thoughts spiral further as she's walking back into his facilities during the third day.

Today is deep puppet chamber maintenance day. A whole day dedicated to the bullshit.

In her paper, Three Sparrows argues that puppets are installed more for the sake of the Anemon population more than the Iterators themselves. In the grand scheme of things, can it be said that these priorities will pay out?

Yes, certainly, there are aspects to puppets that are helpful for the Iterators themselves too. Mainly that the relatively little things are the central focus point of the Hivemind- a means for the entirety of the scattered person to come together and form an Individuality seamlessly.

'But,' she asks, 'isn't That a condition Created by The Puppet's Existence? If We direct Our Attention to the Iterator Inconvenient Sporadic Change, she was known to exist Outside of her Individuality Without Complications! Research shows that she performed just as well if not better in Her Duties than the other Iterators of Her Time Period- which, if I May remind The Reader Kindly, are some Monumental Names. Better output than that of Boreas' Blessing, Orion's Pathway and even The Dedicated Aftertaste of Disdain.

Her Processes proved to be Seamless, Direct, Quicker. Reports are Also Kind Enough to mention the Need for Maintenance- Be it Physical, Psychological or Emotional- was at a sweet Minimum.

If a Puppet of an Iterator Should not be Given, is it Possible that the Hivemind would find a Different, Healthier Way of Coming Together? Of My educated Opinion, I'd dare to Say Yes.

The Consciousness would have the Free Choice of expanding Outwards, to the Limits of the Superstructure, rather than Claustrophobically Inwards. This Change of Procedure would Potentially Result in Absence of These known Disorders that Plague Your Great Gifts to the World:'

Then there is also of course the benefit of pearl reading and printing, but really? Her computer doesn't need a whole person just to burn her a picture, song or some text into the surface of a pearl and then also read it back. This function of the puppets is a weakness if anything. Why not exchange the entire chamber setup for something like a series of pearl readers so they might as well multitask in this, too?

Euros certainly could be reading twenty pearls at once and burning information onto thirty other, for sure. Maybe that would sate his programmed hyperactivity at least a little before he gains access to his predetermined role as a Phone Operator Chief of the Eo group.

The puppets are just a ginormous fumble at optimization of the Iterator blueprint and that's that.

And still...

Three Sparrows climbs through the pipe into Caper of Euros' puppet chamber. This place is like another heart, despite its function being nothing like a real one. A hub of his mind, maybe. An important, precious piece of him, even if those epithets are forced onto it by circumstance.

Her feet hit the floor and the chamber brightens up just that bit to signal at least a piece of his attention is now dedicated to the happenings within the room, but stays deep carmine instead of turning light pink. That signals he's still working, just as she instructed him.

Overseers come and go to take a look at her, some stay to watch her. Understandable, since the puppet is slumped over in the middle of the floor, sitting with its eyes half closed- for once, he is the one frustratingly limited in his ability to interact with her properly even though she's right here.

"Good morning, Caps!" Sparrows cheerfully calls into the more or less empty room, giving the Overseers a quick salute in greeting. They reply with quick spins of their tendrils, the room itself greets her back with a pleased purr. One that she can feel shaking her legs even through the metal soles of her boots as she walks over to today's main point of interest.

Kneeling next to it, she rests a hand over its chest in support. "Alright. As always, we'll get through the detachment sequence and you can go fully back to finishing off the debugging. How close are you to being done?"

Something whirrs and then a projection appears on the wall in front of her of a progress bar. 87%.

"Nice! You are getting faster. Come on now, then."

During a deep maintenance of the puppet, it is advised to nearly fully disconnect it from the rest of the structure. The purpose of that is to give the systems some rest, but also to avoid stressing out or making the Hivemind uncomfortable by sticking a hand into what it perceives as its very personal very own chest.

The first step is for the Hivemind to pull back from the body, to avoid the shock of forceful extraction. Once that is done, the Iterator disconnects the umbilical arm from the back and allows the Mechanic to slowly push it away. Carefulness is needed during this- the arm contains cables and tubes, acting like an umbilical cord for an unborn offspring in some animals.

The baby analogy never fails to make her skin crawl. While Anemons conceive children without such things, it's still so... personal. It stirs unwanted feelings inherent to intelligent organic beings, the need to look after a child. These puppets are like stillborns. Stuck within the womb for the "mother" to use as an extension of its being.

That is not a matter easily pondered.

The next step, after the bundle of crucial cords safely rests on the ground, is to disconnect the umbilical cables from the back of the puppet's head.

One by one, Sparrows disconnects them. And with the last, Euros' puppet goes slack against her hand. Quite unnerving, that. It always makes her heart jump even though she knows better than to worry.

She secures the umbilical cables to the arm and pulls back to take a look at him, both arms supporting his shoulders. The head lolls, eyes still open a little yet unseeing. Something whispers that's not right, so she guides his eyelids closed for him.

...Iterators can't sleep. But the useless piece of Euros looks like he does and suddenly she can't help but feel like this is the most important thing in existence.

The something in her shifts, the something that is yearning, loving, that wants to take care of another and keep him safe from the sharp world outside.

Sparrows caves. Gathers the puppet into her arms, rests his head against her shoulder. The chamber lowly, but sharply whirrs. He's probably annoyed that she has decided to be all cuddly and sweet now when he can't be fully present for it. What little consciousness he can still muster in the puppet presents itself in the tiniest nuzzle of his face into her neck.

Such a small gesture, yet it steals her breath away. She hugs him... it.. closer, cheek presses against his forehead, a hand moves to caress the side of his face.

She marvels at the feeling of holding him. Questions why she is left stumped by an almost empty thing.

He's sleeping, face buried against her neck, says the something- he is awake, just a little drowsy, staring at her with seven eyes across the room, replies reason.

She cradles him in her lap… he's so thin and light, the feeling begs her to keep him safe until he wakes up again, he wouldn't be able to defend himself against a predator-! He holds her in his center, so small and insignificant compared to his mind breaking vastness.. her life span so minute compared to what he is yet to live through. Someone of his caliber wouldn't find a challenge in simply deleting her like a line of code.

'The only thing keeping me truly safe are the taboos woven in their genes,' says the cynical piece of mind, jaded by decades of unkind life and all tired, entertaining the absolute worst of scenarios for the sake of a warning. 'I couldn't be in a safer place than here, at his mercy, in this artificial world where he might as well be a true god,' says the lovesick heart backed up by years of experience, making her arms tighten in a hug.

She caresses his arm, taking a note of the bit too dry skin, created similarly enough to her own to bring comfort of familiarity, only to be snatched away again when there's no softness of flesh beneath.

'That's just a Generation 2 thing,' the knowledgeable mind shrugs it off.

And the more primal worrywart of a heart panics about it as it applies organic understanding of things to it. Remembering the few times Sparrows was allowed to touch Boreas' puppet, the many times Zephyr pulled her against her side for the night. Those are his family members! They are padded with something pliable-

Cushioning of Generation 1 to combat possible gravity generator outages. There's more certainty in the Iterator engineering now, Euros has no need for those. He's better off than either of them. He's safer and, terrifyingly, many times more loved than them.

She sighs, concerned and-

"Sparrows?"

Ah, that seems to be the limit for how long Euros is willing to take the actionless silence. The voice is relatively quiet considering it always echoes through the little room from the speakers seated in the corners of the ceiling. It's kind of sluggish. Not entirely out of the concentration of debugging. The Overseers have come closer.

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Sure you were. Your face went on quite the journey there. Why were you frowning so much?"

She considers. "...dissension of... wants and reality, I guess."

"Well then don't go doing that when I can't feasibly help out. Same with the cuddles I want in on that."

Three Sparrows only rolls her eyes in amusement at that and goes back to work, this time with the Overseers watching her a bit more intently. It's a little uncomfortable, but she can't blame him for worrying when she does so constantly.

Later that day, when the sun hides away, her gaze lingers in random places.

In the kitchen at the table with one chair, one plate and one cup of tea. She stares at the too much space on the couch in the little living room, one toothbrush waiting at the sink, the empty place beside her in the bed.

Perhaps an Iterator puppet isn't the only empty thing in her life.

#rw #oc: three sparrows #oc: caper of euros #oc tag #philosophy sessions au #my writing #inspired by the need to have sparrows cradle a sleepy caper puppet despite her opinions on puppets #the fight of mind's opinions and heart's instinctual opinions.... oh the inner discord #mind: puppets are basically appendixes. Useless. | heart: That Is My Fuckin Boy!!! my LOVERBOY. i protect partner... get awae from him...#kinda a sad ending but what can you do. rw is tragedy adjacent and iterators are actual literal tragedies. their existence Sucks

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 6 months

Text

Halloween Housewarming

NSFW 18+ minors DNI. Warnings: Forbidden relationship, Alcohol, food, Brother's Best Friend Miguel, PiV sex, angst, keeping secrets, oral sex (afab receiving), nonbinary reader, Halloween costumes, ass play (if you squint), size kink. Let me know if I missed anything.

Please consider checking out my ko-fi or patreon if you want to support me! [AO3 link] Thank you for beta-ing @sweetercalypso

Summary: You finally move our of your parent's house, just in time for Halloween. You and Miguel finally give into your desires.

“Yes mom, I’ve got enough food and snacks, there’s a bowl of candy outside the door for trick or treaters, but there aren’t many families in my building anyway.”

You speak into your headphones as you continue to set up your new apartment for tonight’s festivities. It’s not much, but it’s yours. The main living space is tiny, typical of this part of Brooklyn, but it’s enough. You smile to yourself as you hang the last of the bat-shaped bunting on your walls. You’ve pushed all the furniture to the edges of the small space to maximise party room.

“Well, I hope you have a lovely time tonight, and if the O’Hara boy is there, give him a kiss from me.”

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you think of Jason’s best friend. The way his smile twists your insides and makes your tongue feel too big for your mouth. You have it bad for Miguel, but your brother had made it abundantly clear. You recall the way he pulled you aside at your homecoming barbecue six months ago after Miguel had introduced himself.

Do not fuck Miguel, for all that is good and holy, he’s my best friend. Promise me?

You had promised him, but that didn’t stop you from crushing on him from afar, nor the pair of you from texting back and forth like teenagers. But he clearly hadn’t given Miguel the same pep talk.

He brought you lunch whenever he stopped by your brother’s office, always with too much food so he could make the excuse to stick around and help you eat it all. On your birthday he even brought you a cupcake and some flowers – much to your brother’s ire. The perks of working as tech support at your brother’s company meant you got more than good dental.

“Mom!” You groan down the phone as she chuckles away to herself on the other end.

“Alright, I’ll behave, just don’t tell your brother that I’m rooting for Miguel and You.”

“Thank you, mom. I love you, thank you for checking in.”

“I love you more, my Little Sparrow. Have a good time tonight.”

“I will, bye mom.”

“Speak soon.”

The line goes dead, and you don’t miss the way you’re still grinning like a fool at the mention of Miguel. You glance at the time on your phone and your eyes go wide. You’ve got less than an hour before the party is due to start.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself as you hurry to your bedroom to get ready. You and Miguel might have planned matching costumes, not that you’d admit that to your brother, and you were excited to see if he would pull through on his end of the bargain.

~*~

You’re buzzing with nervous energy as you secure the red-lensed goggles on your head, making sure not to obscure the supple, leather-like material of your cat ears connected to the hood of your costume. You look at yourself in the tall mirror in your bathroom as you make the final adjustments.

The stretchy leather playsuit hugs your curves, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks as you realise how revealing the costume is. The front is fastened together by way of a zipper and a ridiculously oversized silver ring. Your breasts are pushed up, the zipper nestling just right so that your bra is hidden from view, but your cleavage is sinfully on show.

Miguel’s guy did an amazing job.

You think to yourself as you make a mental note to thank him for the recommendation of “Mr. Z” whom the only thing you know about him is his name, and the PO Box you had to send your measurements to. Miguel told you not to worry about the cost, it was his treat.

But now you look at the craftsmanship you realise this was no cheap throw together.

Did he get a super-suit tailor to make this?

You wonder aloud as you bite your tongue excitedly. You’ve known Miguel’s secret for months, and every time you see Spider-Man save someone on TV you’re in awe that they’re the same person. You almost can’t believe it sometimes. Then you remember that night in Manhattan when you’d been cornered by some jerk with a tire iron.

Spider-Man had come to save the day, but he made the mistake of getting too close, of not scrubbing the scent of himself off before donning the suit. Because the moment he whisked you to safety you smelled it, the raw earthy scent of Miguel that you buried yourself in every time he gave you a – very platonic, definitely not wildly sexually charged – hug when he visited you at the office.

You’d said nothing at the time, but the more you thought about it, the more you watched Spider-Man on TV, the more you were convinced it was him.

Who could mistake that ass?

You think to yourself with a chuckle as you hear the buzzer for the front door. You shake yourself physically as you try not to linger on your crush’s secret nighttime antics.

Within minutes your apartment is flooded with familiar faces, friends from work, your brother’s friends, and other people you assume are plus ones. The music is blaring and you’re making sure the chip bowls are topped up when you feel a large, unmistakable presence behind you.

“Gotcha.”

Miguel’s deep voice rumbles from behind as you feel his hands on your hips. You feel like you’re about to combust as his large fingers wrap around your waist. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you feel your lacy panties cling to you as you feel yourself getting wet already.

“Not so fast, Boy Scout.”

You purr as you place your hands on his, lacing your fingers between his thick digits. You make like you’re holding them there, and gods do you want to encourage them lower. But you quickly spin on the balls of your feet, twisting his arms up and over your head as you effectively cross and lock his arms in front of him.

“Gotta do better than that Big Stuff.”

You pout up at Miguel as he grins down at you through the Batman mask. You can only see his strong, angular jaw as he smirks at you. But his eyes are shining chestnut, flecked with crimson as he nods in submission.

“Shouldn’t have underestimated you, Cat.” Miguel growls as he lets his eyes linger on your painted lips just a little too long.

“Fucking hell.” Jason growls as he notices the two of you holding hands. You quickly pull away before cocking your head to the side with a wide smile plastered on your face. He’s dressed as Mal Reynolds from Firefly and the nostalgia of watching the series with him as a kid gives you a warm, fuzzy hit of serotonin.

“Sorry Bro, it was just part of the bit, we aim to misbehave after all.” You say with as much sincerity you can muster. He cracks a smile at the Firefly reference and his stern look melts away.

“Whatever you say Sib,” The use of gender-neutral pet name floods you with warmth. “Where’s the beer?”

“In the fridge, dumbass.”

“So,” Miguel flashes you a cheeky grin as he looks you up and down, “Cat-Them?”

“Cat Woman is fine, I’m dressed up as a specific female character. But thank you, Miguel. I appreciate you making the effort to check.” You place your hand over Miguel’s bicep, lingering a little longer than most people would consider appropriate. But you can’t help it, even with the Batman mask on, even with the fact your brother was only a few feet away, you are utterly infatuated with him. You secretly hope he’s just as smitten as you.

“Anything for you, gatita.” Miguel says with a wink, and you bite your lip at his blatant flirty tone. Your brother returns just as another round of guests need to be buzzed in. You hurry off, all the while Miguel’s eyes are on you like a hawk.

~*~

It’s almost one in the morning when your apartment slowly begins to vacate, the more brazen of your friends ready to hit the town, the more conservative ready for their own beds. Jason is passed out on your couch as you begin to tidy up.

You’d made sure not to drink too much throughout the night. You wanted to be sensible, but you enjoyed yourself just fine with only a low-level buzz.

Miguel has already located the black trash bags and had started collecting up the fallout of having over twenty people partying it out in a Brooklyn one-bedroom apartment. You load up the dishwasher quietly as you steal glances at him. You feel his eyes on you more than once as you dance around one another in silence. The tension builds between you slowly, like the soft rain preceding a raucous summer storm. You’re both just waiting for the lightning to strike.

You get the apartment back into a reasonable state fairly quickly and before you know it, you’re leaning against your kitchen counter, Miguel next to you, elbows brushing as you both nurse a glass of water each and share a bowl of salted popcorn.

“So, you wanna stay and watch some shitty horror films with me? Or do you need to get going?” You ask, you’ve barely been able to get any time alone with Miguel tonight and it sucks because you had so many cheesy superhero lines queued up to fire at him.

“I mean, sofa’s kind of taken, not sure how we’re going to watch anything tonight.” Miguel chuckles as he gestures at your brother with his thumb.

“I’ve got PC in my room and a big ass gaming monitor if you don’t mind cosying up.”

“You’re such a fucking nerd.”

“Is that a no?”

You raise an eyebrow at Miguel as you look over your shoulder at him. You watch his lips purse as if he’s offended at you even suggesting his refusal to spend time with you.

“Course not,” Miguel tilts his head at you as he elbows you gently. “Go on and get set up, I’ll get us some snacks.”

“My hero.” You didn’t expect it to roll off your tongue quite as mockingly as it does, and you try not to react as you see a flash of something dart across his crimson-brown irises.

You turn and retreat into your bedroom a little too quickly, and you fall back against the door with a large huff, heart beating too fast in your chest as you try and keep calm.

You feel like you’re a teenager again, sneaking around, inviting a boy back to your room to watch a scary movie. It’s so cliché it hurts. You thank your past self for making sure to change your sheets before the party.

You’d chosen a deep, royal blue and white set. You dub this your romantic set, not as slutty and desperate as your black and red satin sheets, but not as harrowingly embarrassing as your novelty Spider-Gwen sheets you had bought at a comic-con way before ever knowing Miguel, let alone knowing he’s actually Spider-Man.

You log in to your PC and bring up your VPN before diving into the streaming services. You trawl for a while, switching out locations on occasion, just to make sure you weren’t missing out on any region exclusives. With every flip between regions, you see the same set of films over and over, but one series sticks out for you more than the rest.

Scream.

Miguel knocks softly and you feel your heart rate soar as you mentally prepare yourself for him to enter your bedroom. You take a deep breath and clear your throat. You throw yourself back against your pillows, folding your legs to the side you go, trying to act natural.

“Come in!” You call, hopefully not loud enough to wake your catatonic brother.

Miguel inches the door open, struggling to get his large frame through the doorway and you suppress a giggle. It certainly didn’t help that he had decided to bring half of your pantry into the bedroom, as well as water, some beer, and napkins with the little ghost motifs that you bought especially for the party.

“Need a hand?

“I got it. Get the movie started,” he grumbles, his pride clearly preventing him from letting you help. He makes room on your nightstand and sets down the snacks and drinks, managing to do so without dropping a single thing.

You shake your head and crawl to the end of the bed, your room so small that your desk is well within reach as you lean forward to click play. You make sure to lean forward just right that you know Miguel has a perfect view of the way the suit fits snug against your ass. You hear the not-so-subtle way Miguel’s breath hitches behind you, followed by a fake cough, as if to cover it up.

“Hope you don’t mind; I went for a semi-classic.” You say as you turn to see him frozen in place, the bulge in his suit noticeable, but you don’t linger on it. You’re more interested by the way Miguel’s eyes are wide, his jaw slack as he stands there mesmerised.

“Earth to Miguel?”

“Shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s ok, I don’t mind.”

You crawl back up to the pillows and settle down in the middle of the bed, knowing Miguel will have a hard time staying on the bed if he doesn’t cuddle up next to you. You pat the bed as the opening credits start to roll and Miguel obeys your silent demand. It’s like he’s in a trance, his movements are slow, measured as he settles in next to you.

“Shame we didn’t have more time to talk tonight.”

Your voice is barely more than a whisper as you concede a little more room on the bed so Miguel can settle comfortably. He has his hands in his lap, no doubt trying to obscure his boner as he stares forward, seemingly laser focused on the film.

“Yeah, you were so busy. S’good to see you having fun though.”

“You have a good time?”

You lean over Miguel to grab two of the European lagers he brought in and a bag of your favourite chips. You’re being way too forward; you know it, he knows it, but neither of you want it to stop.

You hand him a bottle and twist the cap off your own as you pop open the bag of chips. You take a slow swig of the beer, the condensation from the bottle dripping over your lips and down your chin. You chuckle and wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“You’re making this awful difficult.” Miguel grumbles as you set your beer down on the other nightstand before looking over to see him smouldering down at you. His eyes are glassy, his lips parted as he loops his arm around your shoulders.

“Making what difficult?” You ask as you bat your eyelashes up at him, leaning into his embrace as you tilt your head up.

“Keeping your promise to Jason.”

His voice is strained as he places his beer bottle down, not looking away for a second. You smile to yourself at the fact he’s probably able to sense the placement of the coaster or something, one of his many Spider-skills.

You wonder what else he can sense.

“That promise was made months ago, Miguel. And under different circumstances.”

“That so?” He murmurs as he reaches up to cup your face, hesitating long enough that you grab his wrist and press his hand to your cheek for him.

“I thought you were just a hot piece of ass back then.”

“Oh yeah? And what am I to you now?”

“A hot piece of ass,” you start, a wide grin pulling at the corners of your mouth as Miguel’s plush lips curve up in amusement. “But I also like you, Miguel. Like, really like you.”

“I like you too, and you’re not too awful to look at either.”

Your eyes go wide in faux outrage as you swat at his chest with a flat hand.

“You wanna go and sleep on the floor next to my brother, O’Hara? Because I can arrange that.”

You pout up at him, your hand still lingering on his chest. You can feel his heart racing under the suit, reverberating through your fingertips and sending ripples of warmth through you. Your thighs clamp together in an attempt to soothe the ache building in your core.

“No, don’t want to be anywhere but here.”

“Good.”

The hand cupping your cheek moves up gently to push back the hood of your costume. You know your hair is a mess underneath, but you don’t care. You mirror his actions and slip your fingers under his mask, his skin is hot under your touch, and you pull the mask off gently.

His hair is a perfect mess of wavy locks, somehow undeterred by the night under a tight mask. You smirk to yourself as you scoot closer, your knees firmly pressed against his thigh.

“So, you’re the man under the mask, I didn’t expect Spider-Man to be Latino.” You chuckle gently but Miguels’ body goes rigid, and you realise the slip-up too late.

“What did you say?” Miguel’s voice is tight. His hands fall from your face as he sits up, looking at you with a furrowed brow.

“That I didn’t expect Batman to be Latino?”

You try in earnest to sell the lie, but you’re panicking now. This fuck-up could ruin everything.

“I think you said Spider-Man.” Miguel’s tone is flat as he stares at you, pushing you to say something.

“That’s weird, I meant Batman. No idea where Spider-man came from!”

“Yeah, weird.”

There’s an awkward silence as you realise you’ve killed the mood. You feel the sting of rejection under your skin, burning through you as you force yourself to look back at the film. You shift over on the bed, giving him space as you try not to spiral, but you can already feel bitter tears burning at the back of your eyes. You can’t hold it in any longer, so you pause the film.

“I’m going to go clean up and put on some other clothes,” you say, voice trembling as you try not to look at him. “There’s a pair of your sweatpants and one of your hoodies in the second dresser drawer from that time I got caught in the rain after work.”

You don’t wait for him to respond, quickly hopping off the bed and grabbing your sleep shorts and an oversized Iron Heart t-shirt. You shut the door behind you quietly before making your way to the bathroom.

~*~

Miguel seethes as he sits on the edge of the bed, his clothes laid out next to him as he slowly peels off the suit. He’s pretty sure it was an honest mistake. You couldn’t know his secret, could you?

His fangs and claws extend out as he gets more and more worked up. His paranoia might’ve just cost him the chance to finally cross over from being your best friend to being something more.

“Pendejo.”

He curses himself as he strips down to his boxer briefs, piling the suit next to the nightstand and pulling on the sweatpants. It’s only when he pulls the hoodie over his head that he smells you on his clothes. His lips part as he pulls the garment on, your scent surrounding him like a warm embrace as he feels his cock twitch.

He hears the doorknob jostle as you make your way back into the room. He turns away quickly, trying to force his fangs and claws to retract. He manages it just as you shut the door behind you, any evidence of his affliction hidden before you can see.

His heart clenches in his chest as he takes in the way your eyes are glassy, rimmed with red. You’ve been crying and he feels like a pit has opened up beneath him.

Miguel closes the distance between you in one long stride. He falls to his knees before you, cupping your cheeks as he looks up at you with such sorrow it threatens to break your heart.

“I’m sorry. So, so sorry,” he breathes as he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Nothing to apologise for. It’s not your fault I misread the situation. I get it, let’s just watch the film.” Your heart feels like it’s being crushed in a hydraulic press as you try to put on a brave face.

“That’s not it,” he says with a soft exhale. “I just- I’m scared.”

“I am too Miguel. I’ve never felt so strongly about someone, let alone this quickly. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. I promise.”

Your heart clenches at that, knowing that he can’t make that promise – not with who he is. Neither of you can be fully honest, but you can’t wait any longer. You’ll take his word for now.

“Take me to bed.” You whisper as you turn your head in his hands, pressing a soft, barely-there kiss to the base of his thumb.

Miguel gets to his feet without a word, lowering his hands from your face. He laces his fingertips through your own and pulls you gently towards the bed. He sits down on the edge, legs spread wide as he makes room for you to stand between them. The navy sweatpants do nothing to hide the sizeable bulge of his erection and you can’t help but stare as Miguel chuckles.

“We’ll take it slow, don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to, I really want to.” You breathe as you lift yourself up, manoeuvring yourself to straddle his thighs. You drape your arms over his shoulders as you lower yourself onto his lap.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers as you lean forward, noses touching as you nod.

“Please.”

Your lips messily collide as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against him as you grind down on his cock. His other hand engulfs the back of your head, fingertips digging possessively into your neck.

You lick against the seam of his lips and the feral snarl that escapes his mouth has you whining as you press your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues clash as you grind down harder on his cock. Your fingers tug and pull at the soft curls at the base of his skull and he bucks up against you as he pulls your bottom lip between his own.

“Too many clothes,” he growls against your lips as he plays with the hem of your t-shirt. You nod frantically as you hold your arms up, letting him peel your t-shirt off in one swift action.

‘A little too swift’ you think to yourself, but all conscious thought is blocked out as you feel the brush of Miguel’s plush lips on your right breast, followed by the press of his broad, warm palm on the other. You groan as he palms your skin, taking your nipple between his teeth as he flicks the hardened peak with his tongue.

“So beautiful,” he groans against your skin as he rolls his hips up, grinding up against your clothed core.

“Fuck- feels so good,” you whine as the wetness between your legs grows. You’re sure to have left a damp patch on Miguel’s crotch by now.

“God, you’re so fucking handsome,” Miguel mumbles almost bashfully. You feel a wave of euphoria wash over you as you pull his head back to look down at his dark eyes splintered with red.

“You called me handsome.” You breathe as tears well in your eyes.

“Is- Is that ok?” he asks as he looks up at you, eyes full of doubt.

“It’s more than ok – it’s perfect,” you say as you cup his strong jaw in one hand and tug on the hem of his hoodie with the other.

“Too many clothes,” you say with a wink before you start to yank the material over his broad torso.

The moment your bare chests connect, you’re done for. He’s so broad, his skin searing hot against yours as you rake your fingernails down his back, fusing yourself to him as his lips latch onto your neck, sucking hungry marks into your flesh as pleasure streaks across your vision.

“Miguel,” you whine as you pull him away. You can’t stand to wait any longer.

“What is it? What do you need?”

“You.”

In one surprisingly graceful movement, you slip off his lap and shimmy your sleep shorts down, turning to give Miguel a bit of a show. You’re rewarded with a low hum as you hear him shift behind you.

Before you have the chance to turn and see what he’s doing, you feel his presence behind you, just like when you were filling up the chip bowls at the party. His large hands splay across your exposed skin possessively, fingertips digging into your hips.

“Gotcha.”

This time, you don’t playfully fight back. This time, you let him pull you back against him. You whine softly as his larger form curls around you, his lips brushing against a spot just below your ear as he presses the length of his dick against the seam of your ass. It’s sticky and wet with precome and you tremble as his tip ghosts over the rim of your asshole.

You arch back into him, pressing against him a little too hard as you feel a small stretch of the tight ring of muscle. Miguel shudders behind you as he pushes your hips forward.

“Way too eager, gatita. Where’d all that fight go, huh?”

“Who says this isn’t part of an elaborate plan, Big Stuff?”

You turn your head to the side, angling your face up to press your lips to Miguel’s jaw. You bring one hand up to cup Miguel’s face, pulling him in to kiss you as you reach around behind you with the other to trail along his length. He’s thick, his soft velvety skin confirming your suspicions that he’s uncut. You can’t get a good grip from this angle, not that it matters because as soon as he feels your touch, he snaps.

Miguel groans against your lips before dipping his tongue inside your mouth, giving you no warning before he spins you around and hoists you up around his waist. He turns around to drop you onto the bed, his large form pressing down on top of you as he kneels between your legs.

Your eyes roam over his sculpted pecs and hard abs, then you see his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s beautiful.

“Like what you see?” Miguel chuckles as he squeezes the base of his cock in one hand before slowly pulling back his foreskin to reveal his weeping tip.

“You really have to ask?” you purr as you grab his free hand, spreading your legs wider and guiding his large fingers to your slick folds.

‘Fuck’ is all Miguel can manage before he’s hoisting your calves over his shoulders.

Once again, he’s moving a little too fast, getting sloppy as his desire takes over the logical part of his brain.

His breath ghosts against your thighs and you squirm as he parts your lips with his thick fingers before running them up to your clit, pressing firmly against the swollen bud as you hiss at the burst of pleasure that rocks through you.

“Please Miguel, just fucking eat my pussy already,” you huff impatiently, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. His eyes lock onto yours as he licks a long, slow stripe through your folds. He moans at the taste, sending low vibrations through your cunt.

He devours you slowly, savouring every twitch of your body, every drop of your arousal as he fucks you with his tongue, the thick muscle pressing deep inside you. You clench around nothing as he moves back up to your clit. He rolls his tongue around it torturously slow as you buck your hips up to chase the friction.

Your legs begin to tremble as he suckles on your clit and brings a finger up to your entrance, pressing slowly into you as you bite your lip, suddenly remembering your sleeping brother in the other room. You clamp your legs around Miguel’s shoulders as you feel yourself getting close. The way his finger curls and presses into your g-spot is almost too much as you whimper pathetically at every push of his finger inside you and every flick of his tongue against your clit.

“Miguel.” You cry out, unable to stop yourself this time as your vision splinters and blurs as the tight coil of pleasure in your core snaps. You come hard around him, your pussy clamping down on his finger as he continues to suck on your clit, his tongue licking hard, broad strokes as you quiver and tremble beneath him.

You’re about to push him away, overstimulation getting too much, but he preempts you as he rocks back onto his knees. He removes your legs from his shoulders with a feather-light touch. His hands ghost up the outside of your thighs and he smiles down at you, slick covering his lips, his chin, even his nose and you feel the heat rise up in your cheeks as you realise how much of a mess you made.

“C’mere.”

You hold your arms out, beckoning him into your embrace and he leans down slowly, his broad hips forcing your thighs apart a little as his dick rests heavily against your cunt. Miguel rests his elbows either side of your head as he leans in to kiss you. Your lips brush for less than a second before you’re running your tongue across his lips, tasting yourself before his tongue slides over your own. You moan as they meet outside of your mouths, twisting together between you.

Your slips slot back over one another as you feel Miguel’s dick twitch and you grind up against him, desperate to have him inside you. You let him claim your mouth as his large form presses you into the bed. It’s overwhelming in the best way, he never lets his full weight rest on you, but it’s just enough to make you desperate for more.

“Fuck me.”

You whisper against his lips as you both come up for air. His dark eyes seem to bore into your very soul as he smirks at your request. He shifts his balance, freeing up a hand to cup your face as he presses his forehead against yours. You smile at the gentle gesture as you loop your arms around his neck, holding you together in the surprisingly tender moment.

“You got condoms?” He asks, but you shake your head.

“I’ve got an IUD, and I recently got screened, came back all clear.”

“I did too, funnily enough, and it came back clear as well. Do you trust me?”

You share a look, realising that this was always going to happen tonight, no matter what, you’d both come prepared for this moment. You’d passed the point of no return the moment his hands fell to your hips at the start of the party.

“With my life.”

His smile is infectious as he bites his lip almost bashfully. He returns his attention to his cock and he looks up at you with a hesitant look.

“I’m not small, so please, let me know if it’s too much, ok?”

“I will.”

Miguel pulls back, looking like he wants to say something else, but he seems to mentally shake himself before moving his hand down your body. He brushes his knuckles against your nipples before trailing his fingers along your sternum before shifting slightly on the bed as he grabs the base of his cock. He lines it up at your core and you nod firmly up at him as he hesitates.

The stretch is blinding as he presses his tip in, just enough to make you squirm, desperate for more but already feeling the hot burn as he opens you up. You pant and whine as he eases in further, pausing every so often to let you adjust. All the while you twist your fingers in his soft locks at the nape of his neck. Your fingertips scrape against his scalp as he finally bottoms out.

You’re impossibly full and you feel another orgasm building from just being stuffed with his cock. But you need more, you need him to move. Your hot breaths mingle together, the pair of you panting desperately as you wrap your ankles loosely around Miguel’s waist.

“Gotta go slow, can’t risk waking Jason if we start banging the headboard against the wall.”

“Makes sense.” You whisper, a giggle bubbling in the back of your throat at the somewhat bizarre nature of it all.

The moment he begins to move you’re already fighting the urge to moan, to cry out and scream his name as you feel the heavy weight of him rake through you. He lets out a shaky breath as he pulls almost all the way out. He seems to hesitate and before he can ask if you’re ok you pressure your heels against the small of his back as you pull him down by the shoulders to kiss you.

You fist one hand in his hair, dropping the other to your clit so you can start urging yourself to the edge. You gasp as Miguel obeys your silent demand, rocking his hips forward to fill you up again. The combined pleasures of your fingers on your swollen bundle of nerves and Miguel stretching you out has you groaning into his mouth.

Your tongue assaults his, claiming his mouth as he claims your cunt with his cock. His thrusts get faster, just enough momentum to have you bucking your hips up every time he seats himself fully inside you. It’s merciful that he isn’t so big that your cervix isn’t taking a beating even on the deeper, harder thrusts.

“Fuck Miguel you’re fucking perfect, so fucking perfect.” You babble as you come up for air, you look down to see where you connect, and your head falls against his shoulder as you watch his length pump in and out of you. It’s pornographic how wet you are, and how easily he splits you in two.

“No, that’s all you baby, been dreaming about this and none of them compares to the real thing. You’re so fucking hot, and ‘feel so fucking good.”

Miguel’s voice is a whisper in your ear as he nips gently at your lobe, sucking the soft flesh as he snaps his hips hard. You bite into his shoulder hard, unable to control your strangled moan as he hits your g-spot again and again as his thrusts become harder, faster.

You almost worry about the noises your bed is starting to make as he seemingly forgets about the whole “being quiet” idea.

But the way pleasure is dripping down your spine like hot wax, pooling and overflowing with every circular motion over your clit, every deep, rolling thrust of Miguel’s cock inside you, you couldn’t care less who heard you.

Sweat beads on your brow as you cling to Miguel with one hand, digging your nails in deep enough to break the skin. He growls deep in his chest at this, and all notion of being quiet lays in tatters as he ruts into you so hard you see stars. You’re coming hard around his cock as you rub frantically at your clit.

His lips find yours as he stills inside you, his body quivering as he licks into your pliable mouth. With every jerk of his hips, you feel the warmth of his spend leaking out of you as you languidly drag your tongue over his. You tug him just that little bit deeper with your ankles, pulling him impossibly tight as you groan into his mouth.

You break the kiss as you feel him softening inside you. You run your fingers through his damp locks as he beams down at you, breathing heavily through his nose. You stay there for what seems to be an eternity before sense tells you to get up and pee.

“Alright, as much as it’s a romantic cliché to fall asleep in each other’s arms, I need to clean up first.”

He laughs and places a soft kiss to your nose before easing back out of you. You can’t believe how empty you feel as your combined spend leaks out of you and onto your sheets. You dress quickly and pop your head out into your living room, the heavy snores of your brother a relief as you tiptoe over to the bathroom. Miguel follows soon after you’re done, and you give him a chaste kiss as you leave him to tidy up himself.

You grab a throw blanket from the end of the sofa and drape it over your brother before heading back into your room.

You sit in the middle of the bed, back against the headboard as you sip on one of the bottles of water Miguel brought in earlier. You consider restarting the film, but the moment he walks back in there’s nothing else on your mind.

His hair is slicked back, the smell of your soap wafting through the air.

“Hey.” You squeak as you look at him with fresh eyes.

“Hey, any room on the bed for me? Or you going to throw me out on to the street now you’ve had your wicked way with me?”

“Dunno, you’re a pretty good lay O’Hara,” you cock your head as you pretend to consider your options. “I think I’ll keep you around for now.”

“What an honour,” Miguel chuckles as he eases himself onto the bed, both of you choosing to ignore the wet patch you’d decided to cover up by folding the comforter over it.

You shift over to give him room, only to snuggle into his side as soon as he gets comfortable. You wrap your arm across his chest and hook one of your legs over his thigh. He leans back and drapes an arm around you, pulling you in tight.

“So, do you want to start the movie again?” Miguel whispers into your hair as he rests his chin on your head.

“Sure, I’m not tired all of a sudden,” you say with a breathy laugh.

You roll over and grab a small remote from your nightstand and rewind the stream. Miguel gives you a funny look and you grin sheepishly up at him.

“So you didn’t need to bend over and show me your ass earlier?”

“Maybe,” You say with a playful lilt to your voice, “But you’re glad I did right?”

“Course, I’d do anything to see you bent over like that, gives me some ideas for next time.”

“Next time eh?” You feel your stomach flip at the thought of being with Miguel like this again.

“Mhm, unless you have any objections?”

“None at all, now watch the film.” You protest, huffing as you realise you’ve missed the iconic “Do you like Scary Movies?” line.

“Yess Boss.” He breathes as he does as he’s told. The pet name has you grinning like a Cheshire Cat as you try and focus on the film.

You still can’t quite believe you actually fucked your brother’s best friend, and you can’t ignore that this whole situation will cause issues for you all going forward.

But right now, all you want to think about is how tightly pressed you are against your favourite person in the whole world. And how no matter what, you’re going to make this work.

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