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wileys-russo · 2 months ago

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in the blink of an eye (4) II a.putellas

breaking my impromptu hiatus to bring you something long overdue, part of the in the blink of an eye series in the blink of an eye (4) II a.putellas

“-one ale, por favor just one!” you begged your girlfriend whose face was hidden behind the sunglasses sat on her nose. “no.” the girl replied curtly with a shake of her head, stubborn as ever as you huffed impatiently.

“but mi amor you have such pretty eyes, la más bonita. so let me see them?” you tried again sweetly, hand stroking her cheek as her mouth curled upward into a small smile but still she shook her head, turning and kissing the palm of your hand before you snatched it away as if burned by the touch of her lips.

“amor. por favor i just want a nice picture with you when your face is not hidden behind glasses. just one picture!” you begged her, reaching up to try and take them off yourself as she craned her neck out of the way and you grunted, infuriated at her stubbornness.

“you are saying i do not look nice?” the brunette pouted though you knew it was sarcasm as your eyes narrowed at her. “you know that is not what i mean alexia.” you warned as she grinned wolfishly, the two of you sat down together on a beach seemingly in the middle of nowhere as there was hardly a soul in sight.

“you can take pictures later mi amor, venga. quiero acostarme contigo.” the catalan laid back down and patted your towel, holding her arms out expectantly for you to drop down into them.

the two of you were taking advantage of a rare few days off for the up and coming barcelona superstar, though it had taken your everything to try and convince alexia not to spend it holed away in her apartment reviewing game footage.

“no because later you will just tell me you have had too much sun and you are tired and you are not in the mood for pictures.” you mocked and quirked an eyebrow, knowing your girlfriends games all too well.

“well i am not in the mood for pictures right now and we took some!” the midfielder smiled as you lazily smacked her bare toned stomach. “sí and i want to take one more picture but without your stupid glasses covering your face.” you stared right back down at her as she dropped her arms and sighed.

“just one?” alexia clarified as you nodded and she sat up, wriggling a little so her warm body was pressed right behind yours, a few light kisses to your neck before finally she pushed her sunglasses up and onto her head.

“i take. i have longer arms!” your girlfriend reached for your phone with a wiggle of her fingers as you gave her an odd look. “que? i do princesa! look.” she held out her arm and nodded for you to do the same as your eyes rolled but none the less stretched your own out.

“alexia!” you laughed in surprise as her arm suddenly wrapped around your torso and pulled you down to lay back on the towel when you weren’t expecting it, phone plucked from your grip.

you watched as she swiped to the camera and smiled, tucking your head closer to hers, looking up and squinting a little at the sun baring down on the pair of you as you felt her lips against your cheek and heard the click of camera go off.

“allí, one picture.” alexia handed you your phone back and settled herself, one arm draped across your midsection holding your body firmly against hers as you opened your phone and clicked into the camera roll.

“ale! estás bromeando?” you groaned once you saw the photo, which was taken of the sky above you and not the cute selfie which you’d been angling for and that the brunette had made it seem like she took. “oye, one photo no?” you felt her nose tuck into your collar bone and a cheeky grin against your neck as you rolled away from her with a huff and wrenched her arm off of you.

“sí a photo of us!” you protested as the footballer shuffled closer to amend the gap between the pair of you that you’d created, laying her head on your chest and again draping an arm lazily over your waist. “oh i did not understand mi vida, silly me, lo siento.” alexia pouted mockingly as you glared down at her unimpressed.

“no frowning now bebita, you said one photo without my glasses on. now you can look at that one photo of the sky and know that when it was taken, my glasses were off.” the midfielder mumbled into your tan skin as you groaned again and once more you felt her triumphant smile against you.

“putellas you are so annoying.” you huffed, trying to push her off as she went limp and swatted your hands away, holding onto you tighter and peppering feather light kisses against your sun touched skin. “mm so you like to tell me.” the catalan teased, sitting up a little more so she hovered over you.

to your surprise she made no move to push you away as you reached up and plucked her sunglasses off her face, but you pretended not to notice the way her free hand moved your phone just out of your reach as you couldn’t help but allow your annoyance at her to melt away at her cheeky hazel eyes which bore into your own with a loving stare.

“you cannot always just kiss me to get your own way.” you warned but the smile on your face betrayed the attempted stern tone in your voice as your girlfriend laughed, a melodic sound which caused a warm feeling to spread through you from the tips of your toes.

“no? so i should stop then? no más besos?” the footballer grinned, knocking your legs apart and moving to settle herself between them, ducking down and kissing just beneath where your bikini top covered your chest, strong hands gripping your waist as her thumbs traced circles on your hips, pointer finger teasingly snapping the thin ties which held your bottoms together.

“mm no más besos.” you confirmed with a nod, squirming slightly at the vibrations of her amusement against your stomach, her warm ruby red lips trailing kisses down your torso, chin resting just above your pelvis as her bright eyes locked with yours.

“i love you.” you exhaled softly, a hand pushing through the mop of wavy brunette hair atop her head. “te quiero más.” your girlfriend spoke up near instantly, another gentle kiss to your stomach as your nails scratched lightly against her scalp.

“alexia! we are at the beach.” you warned with a slight laugh as her next kiss was against the material of your bikini bottoms, tips of your ears going bright red at the familiar wave of feelings which washed over you from the simple gesture.

“no hay nadie.” your girlfriend murmured, cheeky smirk flashed at you as her hands rubbed up and down your sides, causing goosebumps to prickle at your warm skin beneath her touch, the midfielder spurred on by the way your body betrayed you and reacted like clockwork to her knowing touch.

you breathed out and closed your eyes feeling her fingers dance over you, pushing your chest upward a little allowing one hand to slip beneath your back and tug at the ties of your top. “un momento.” one eye cracked open as her touch disappeared and she sat up between your legs, an eyebrow raised curiously toward her.

“sun safety first.” alexia’s lips curled into a wicked grin as she snatched her sunglasses from your hand, slipping them on and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as you groaned. “moment ruined.” you grumbled as her body flopped down on top of you, soft laughter in your ear as her nose tucked into your neck mumbling how much she adored you, the sweet confessions causing a blush to creep into your features.

“dios mío you are so annoying.”

alexia wasn’t sure what she quite expected to come out of her leaving her number with you, and maybe radio silence should have been at the top of her list but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt as if you’d broken up with her all over again when days passed and still she hadn’t heard a peep from you.

it also didn’t help that the moment her younger sister learned about what happened she hadn’t stopped letting alexia know exactly what she thought about it, which as she’d gone on and on about over the years was that alexia was wasting her life away pining over you, and that she needed to get over what happened and put herself back out there.

it all fell on deaf ears of course, the footballer having long learned how to tune out alba when she wasn’t saying anything interesting, only this time she was purposefully ignoring her sisters warnings because deep down, she knew there was some truth to them, the thought of letting you go entirely was one far too scary to face at all.

no matter what had happened, you were such a constant force in alexia’s life, her past, and even now her present.

you were like a distant lifeline, a safety net, a coil of rope to be grabbed at when she was fast falling that alexia knew would always be there, but kept just far enough away from her that she wasn’t forced to face the reality that maybe you’d moved on, or worse maybe you weren’t really there at all.

growing up with someone, watching them experience life and all of its ups and downs, falling in love with them despite that and taking the plunge of allowing that person to not only experience life but intertwine their own with yours to make a new one together, was both the most euphoric and downright horrible decision alexia had ever made.

you’d hurt her, there was no doubting that. but she’d also been the one to walk away, albeit without hearing you out much more than a few passionate arguments, one night of what seemed like closure sex and then within a weekend all of alexia’s belongings were gone from the apartment you shared, and so was she.

but as big as barcelona was it felt suffocatingly small when you were trying to avoid someone who seemed to pop up everywhere and appear in everything, even just as the ghost of a memory that once was, so naturally you’d moved away from her and alexia was left knowing that they were right, you never knew how much you missed something until its really gone.

though as time passed, the hurt started to fade a little.

she threw herself into football and assumed you’d be throwing yourself into law school, still an ever so distant ache for you would always be set in her bones, especially on nights where sleep seemed impossible and alexia lay alone in a bed made for two, wishing more than anything that you were there beside her.

she found punishing herself for these thoughts helped to silence them, even just for long enough to let her come up for air out of the sea of regret and anger and anguish she often found herself drowning in when your name was tossed around in passing.

daydreaming about what you might be up to would earn her an extra hour in the gym, a dream in which you appeared leaving her waking up pale as a sheet and flailing around trying to find you, meant she’d run and run until blisters would form on the backs of her heels, the only thing to focus on the sound of her feet hitting the pavement and her lungs screaming for air.

the extra work only meant she improved with football, and now with no distractions she was able to immerse herself fully, dedicated and driven by something everyone wondered what but no one but alexia knew the answer, which of course was that it was you.

some things despite punishments alexia’s mind couldn’t help but constantly stray to.

did you ever watch her games? face hidden in the sea of thousands but maybe with a small smile? had you seen her in passing when you returned to visit your family? were you proud of her? did you too spend nights laying awake wondering how it might feel if she was beside you? did you have someone else occupying that side of the bed now?

did you ever think about her the way she thought of you?

up until now alexia had begrudgingly accepted these questions would go unanswered. but then one day when she was busy trying to convince herself her thoughts had turned into delusions and she really needed a coffee, just a few feet away, not a mirage or a hallucination like alexia assumed, there you were.

only there you were with a new woman, a new baby, a new life, and one in which alexia had no part in at all.

yet there you were still the same girl with crooked eyeliner and a kind smile she’d been forced to stand beside in line for the bathroom at some concert alba had dragged her to when she was a teenager and wasn’t allowed to go alone.

the same girl who hated olives, the same girl who had the laugh of an angel but sang like a dying cat and made alexia laugh so hard her stomach hurt the way nobody else ever had, the same girl who knew what alexia needed before she did, the same girl whom she loved so fiercely it almost consumed you both.

there you were, the same twenty three year old whose eyes screamed pity when alexia was down on one knee before you, who yelled until her voice cracked about how much you loved her but your answer wouldn’t change, the same girl who ran miles around her mind like an olympic track star, the same girl who after years and years of trying to convince herself she was over, alexia was still mildly, horribly and undoubtedly head over heels in love with.

the same girl who alexia hoped to see as she lurked the aisles of the grocery store near your apartment.

really she could use the excuse that it was the closest store to the training ground, but as the midfielder stared at loaves of bread she didn’t need, purposefully taking her time hoping that by some slim chance she might bump into you, she thought perhaps this was finally a step too far.

she’d been in here three times already this week, with two unopened bottles of milk, a loaf of stale sourdough, three bananas and a pack of spearmint gum to show for it. she was almost certain the young girl tending the checkout likely thought she was crazy, or had some sort of compulsive disorder which meant she needed to come in every day and buy the most bizarre and seemingly random item she could.

with yet another loaf of sourdough in hand she made a mental note to drop off to her mami on her way home so it got some use, alexia was ready to call it, the paranoid guilt that her behaviour was now bordering obsessive with her loitering around the neighbourhood you resided in trying to force some sort of ‘natural’ coincidence in which you’d bump into one another like those horridly cheesy english romantic comedies mapi was always telling her about at training.

if alexia was a bull you were the red flag that got her to bite every time without fail, the colossal tidal wave of feelings which crashed over her head around you came when out of nowhere you were flashed in front of her eyes and her heart did a back flip, a switch flipped in her brain which until recently had begun to grow dusty, almost forgotten about.

the cashier was right, alexia was crazy, and you’d driven her to it.

so crazy that she could almost swore she could hear you right now, the all too familiar notes of your voice carrying through the small local grocer to the point she knew it was time for her to leave, you may have made alexia crazy but auditory hallucinations was just the thing to send her diving her over the edge into insanity.

dropping the loaf of bread in hand not particularly in the mood for a snarky comment and the roll of the angsty teen cashiers eyes alexia began to mumble polite apologies as she squeezed her way down the aisle, dodging and swerving shopping carts, small children and people old and young alike.

she almost missed it.

“aye dios mio posie please! ten more minutes and we will be done and we can go home nena, i promise.” you begged quietly, your heart rate spiking as the three year olds face just went redder and redder and you knew you were rapidly running out of time before her grumbling and whining and crying turned into a full blown level ten tantrum.

she wasn’t well, and neither was your mami who you had a sneaking suspicion had passed on her cold to the tiny sniffling three year old who had not wanted to leave the house today but you needed food desperately and you didn’t have anyone to watch her.

with your mami out of action and the young girl who babysat posie away on holidays for the week with her family you’d had to call in sick to work to look after your niece, your boss warning that if this happened again so last minute you’d be out of a job your chest had been tight with anxiety all day.

with posie being so young and her temperature soaring you’d panicked and taken her to the doctor who informed all she could do was take some cough medicine and decongestant and wait it out. you tried to remember exactly what it was that made you feel better when you weren’t well, but nothing seemed to work as posie only grew more and more grumpy and tearful.

crying for her mami all you could do was hold her and do your best not to break down along with her, because her mami wasn’t coming to help either of you and there wasn’t a single thing in the world that could change that.

eventually she’d exhausted herself so much she’d fallen asleep curled up on your lap, your nails scratching her back the same way natalia had always done for you when you were upset and only a little older than posie, and when she woke up she seemed to have a slight bit more colour in her face.

with an hour free from tears to actually think you’d used your free hand to google and decided the best course of action to try and make her feel better bar a lot of cuddles would be the same soup your abuela had made whenever she would visit in the winter.

it was warm and comforting and always made you feel safe. and you wanted posie to feel safe with you because you were all each other had right now that was familiar, and you weren’t going to disgrace your sisters name by failing the one thing she’d actually entrusted you with.

though on days like this, you wondered if she’d really made the right call.

once the two of you arrived at the store posie’s mood went from bad to worse and you promised her over and over this would be fast. but her little ears were blocked which you knew was painful, her eyes were sensitive so the harsh glare of the store wasn’t helping, but neither did the sunglasses you tried to offer her that she would often wear around when feeling a little shy, those were thrown on the ground and broke which was what head lead to the beginnings of the meltdown you could see was hurtling toward you like a freight train.

“we can watch whatever you want, have chocolate cookies, a dance party, you do not even have to take a nap today! see nena? no naps, just fun!” you’d given up on any sort of rationality and societally functional parenting, ignoring the overtly judgemental glances from the older woman to your right whose eyes raked over you in a mix of both pity and disgust at your attempts at bribery.

you yourself were already overstimulated in the small store. it was busier than usual, aisles crowded and chatter loud, someone had left one of the doors of the cold wall open meaning there was a constant drip drip drip sounding as the tears of condensation trailed slowly down the fogged up glass, a chill breeze wafting from the shelves and shelves of frozen bagged vegetables standing the hairs on the back of your neck to attention.

you had another seven things on your list, seven. if you could just get the small girl to calm down enough to allow you even five more minutes you’d be done and home and you could deal with the consequences of bribery later.

only you didn’t even get the chance to take a breath when finally her sniffles stopped and you foolishly thought that was that and you’d solved it, silenced her crying with promises of chocolate and god awful childrens tunes that made you want to tear your hair out with each and every song that seemed to get faster and louder and al the more stuck in your head for days and days afterwards.

“no, no, no, NO!” you winced as finally the dam broke and a blood curdling scream left the small blondes mouth, your eyes widening in panic and before you could even process what was happening you’d grabbed posie and yanked her up and out of the seat of the shopping cart.

a hand covering her mouth you ignored the little teeth which sank into the flesh of your palm and her tiny fists which gripped and twisted your shirt in her hands.

screams muffled, blood pumping and heart racing as you all but sprinted out of the store, knocking into people and not even able to get out an apology for fear of if you opened your mouth you might scream or cry too.

you heard the snide comments, the disapproving tuts, the pitiful sighs, and there was a time you might have turned around and snapped back but today they all fell on deaf ears as you abandoned the groceries you’d spent the last half an hour collecting, shooting out the automatic doors and flying across the carpark.

you weren’t sure who you were apologising to whether it be your niece, the universe or god forbid your sister likely looking down on you in disappointment, but all you could do was mumble how sorry you were as you clumsily fumbled with the straps of the car seat, hands shaking like leaves as posie continued to wail and scream like a banshee.

you thought someone came over to you at some point to try and help but if they did you’d entirely zoned them out, the moment the buckles clicked together the door was slammed and by the time you blinked you were both safely in the shelter of the car, doors locked and windows up protecting you from the harsh scrutiny of the outside world.

alexia scoffed as she felt someone barrel into her, wincing as a scream ripped through her ears and her shoulder throbbed where it had been rammed, catching a glimpse of a young woman darting out the doors carrying a toddler who seemed determined to break the sound barrier with her crying.

but then as she squinted a little, rubbing her shoulder and hearing an elderly gentleman grumble behind her about how no one knew what the word discipline was these days and all a screaming baby needed a was clip round the ears, she realised it wasn’t just anyone.

it was you.

alexia’s eyes widened and the disapproving chatter of the supermarket ceased, her hazel eyes watching as you fumbled clumsily with something, a store worker approaching to see if you were okay but pushed away as you shrugged off her hand.

alexia wanted to take a step forward but her feet were cemented to the floor, watching as her heartbeat thumped in her ears and moments later the car you’d fled too was peeling out of the carpark, once again leaving her yearning for even another second of your time.

with a defeated sigh alexia glared down at her feet, muttering under her breath about the betrayal and glancing over her shoulder as yet another person made an offhand comment about your seeming lack of parenting skills, watching two middle aged woman point to an abandoned shopping cart full of food and roll their eyes.

then the cogs started to turn in her head, taking a quick stock of what she could recognise in the forgone shopping cart, and suddenly a lightbulb flashed in her head of just how she could try to see you again, if not just try to be the supportive ‘friend’ her mami seemed to think she should be.

alexia paused as she made her way to what she was hoping was your abandoned cart, stiffening as the same pair of women continued to chatter away to one another about you, the judgement thick and the lack of understanding astounding as alexia counted to three, a hand on the cart as she turned and cleared her throat.

“métete en tus asuntos, tener vergüenza! i am sure she is doing her best.”

you exhaled heavily as finally posie had gone down for a nap, stopping her screaming the moment you’d walked through the threshold of the apartment, which then promptly turned to sobs and a refusal to let go of you, the two of you laying down together for an hour before the tiny girl had once again exhausted herself to sleep and you were able to ever so gently pry her fingers from where they clung onto your shirt.

you really needed to research what happened to children who frequently cried themselves to sleep, yet another thing for you to spiral down a rabbit hole over and unpack in therapy, not that you��d been able to find time to make an appointment for a month now.

“tienes que estar bromeando.” you sighed, running your hands down your face as you stared at the scarily empty fridge in front of you, which seemed to be taunting you, jolting in surprise as it beeped angrily and you swore under your breath and slammed it close.

“un día desde el infierno!” you groaned as with the force in which the door slammed close several pictures and magnets went clattering to the ground, watching a few of them roll under the fridge as you hung your head and dropped down to the floor in defeat.

“dios mio i need to clean under here.” you muttered as you stuck your hand in the tiny space, feeling around blindly, a rapid few knocks at the door causing you to jolt in shock again, shooting up and smacking your head against the fridge door which hadn’t closed properly when you slammed it.

“por el amor de dios!” you grunted, clutching at your head as there was another series of knocks at the door and you managed to pull yourself up to your feet using the back of the couch. “ya voy!” you called out, rubbing your forehead with a wince as you could already feel a small bump forming and hobbled your way to the front door.

however when you opened it, you couldn’t have been any less prepared for the sight that greeted you.

food, bags and bags of food, were laid at your feet as you frowned, noticing a few things you’d left in the shopping cart on the top of one of the bags as you bent down a little and rifled through one, quickly realising this was in fact everything you’d left behind.

your head snapped up and scanned the hallway as there wasn’t anyone in sight, however all you caught was a flash of blonde and a familiar tattoo disappearing into the elevator before you could even say a single word.

“alexia, do you need us to get one of the staff?” alexia paused her conversation with irene, glancing curiously toward ingrid who didn’t meet her gaze, looking off ahead of them as alexia turned to try and see what she was watching.

“oh no no, alexia will not be the one who needs security.” mapi grinned knowingly, having already spotted the girl waiting by alexia’s car, the underground parking lot under renovation meaning they’d all needed to park just outside the training grounds for the week.

“but why would-” ingrid frowned as mapi clicked her tongue catching her attention, her and her girlfriend seeming to have a silent conversation and the norwegians face perked up in realisation.

“oh! that is-” though ingrid seemed to realise maybe announcing that the girl who’d turned down alexia’s proposal…was the girl who turned down alexias proposal in front of alexia herself, may not be her best move.

“she is back? and you two are…” irene asked, eyes wide with surprise as alexia felt her cheeks heat up a little and quickly shoot her head. “no no, she is back but we are, we are not anything.” she winced at how uncertain she sounded, mapi snickering and grunting as ingrid shoved her with a warning look.

“but you want to be-” “we will give you some privacy.”

the tattooed defender couldn’t even finish her sentence before ingrid grabbed the strap of her training bag, yanking her off and away as irene squeezed her shoulder supportively and headed off toward her own car, alexia stopped in her tracks as her feet failed her for a second time this week.

unsure if she’d realised it was you and rapidly starting to think maybe just showing up unannounced may not have been the best idea, you awkwardly raised your hand in greeting, alexia slowly doing the same as she finally continued her walk over to you.

“hola?” “hola.”

the two of you exchanged somewhat shy greetings, alexias hands fiddling with the zipper of her bag as you stood up straighter and gave her a small smile, though it was enough to have alexia’s stomach lurking and her knees wobbling.

“gracias.” you started, meeting alexias confused stare with a knowing one and softening as the tips of her ears went pink and she rocked back and forth on her feet.

“de nada.” she mumbled, unable to meet your eyes as you smiled. “lucky for me you were in the same shop at the same time as me, no?” you questioned and alexia stumbled over her words for a minute trying to come up with a logical response.

but then she noticed the way your nose was slightly scrunched, eyes narrowed a little and the dimples in the corner of your mouth were like little half moons.

teasing, you were only teasing her.

“está todo bien? with the nena uh…” alexia frowned, hating the way her mind had gone blank around you, struggling to remember as you chuckled, finding her confusion and concentration quite endearing. “posie.” you put her out of her misery as she sighed with a curt nod.

the nena in question was with anna, once a week the woman would take her for some food and talk to her as best you can to a three year old about the quality of care she was getting, posie thankfully feeling a lot better now it had been a few days.

you’d been wanting to try and find and thank alexia but all of your concern was with your niece, trying to screw your head back on and pick up the pieces, because if you weren’t standing on stable ground then how could you expect to provide that for posie?

“sí, posie.” alexia corrected as you now sighed, spinning one of your rings around your finger as you gave a small shrug. “she is better, had a cold. but my mami was also sick and could not look after her and i was supposed to be at work and i wanted to make soup and we had no food and posie needed-” you caught yourself as you slipped and began to ramble, face heating up as you stopped and mumbled an apology.

“how did you know i was here?” the blonde blurted out, wishing the ground would swallow her up as she didn’t give herself a moment to think before the words came falling from her mouth.

“when are you not here?” you challenged, alexia letting out a quiet laugh which had your stomach turning and a whole lot of feelings you’d pushed deep deep deep down fighting to bubble back up as you felt a little nauseous, coming back down to earth as you rummaged around in the bag slung over your shoulder.

“for the food.” you held out some money as alexias eyes widened. “alexia.” your tone became a little stricter seeing she was about to decline, pushing it forward toward her more. “no, no hay necesidad.” sure enough, there it was.

“alexia, please.” you sighed, pushing it toward her again as her hand grabbed yours and pushed it right back to you. “no.” she shook her head stubbornly, quickly moving around you as her car beeped and she popped the boot, dropping her bag in.

“ale-” “no.” “but you-” “no-” “oh you are so-” “no.”

you wanted to be annoyed at her but the slightly cheeky smile she flicked your way as she closed the boot had all of that melting away. “is the only word you know, no?” you sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips as alexia shrugged, leaning against her car and again battering away your hand as you tried to offer the money. “no.” she parroted again as your eyes rolled and she gave a small grin clearly pleased with herself.

and at the sight you couldn’t help yourself, and the words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could think through the consequences of them in any way at all.

“do you want to get a coffee?”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community

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earthsickwithoutyou · 2 years ago

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Saw II 2005 -

Now this is what I’m talking about! The second Saw sidesteps the sloppier aspects of the first installment and sees the series finding its winning format, which would continue for many more movies.

Namely, the plot is neater and more meaningful, with our first “group of strangers in a trap” scenario, juxtaposed with Donnie Wahlberg (in a performance *way* too good for a Saw movie 😂) as Detective Eric Matthews.

Eric has amazing humorous and adversarial chemistry with Jigsaw. I absolutely love how sassy Jigsaw is in this one and that Matthews is increasingly overwrought by the sheer level of annoying that this killer is. 😂💯 Their scenes together are a highlight of the whole series.

Saw II flows smoothly with big reveals and twists that actually gel and are exciting to the viewer. It sets up the next film in a clear and confident manner. Matthews’ ordeal at the end was heart-in-throat terrifying and yet mesmerizing because Wahlberg fucking nailed it.

Without the melodramatic and heavy-handed themes of Saw III, Saw II breezes by as pure entertainment that has me laughing or jumping with fear throughout.

from Letterboxd - Virginia Mae https://ift.tt/igF1y95

#letterboxd reviews #my film reviews #saw ii #one of the best #horror

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horrorhussy · 7 months ago

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I’m happy yall appreciated the first one so let’s go, part two of my favourite horror movie reviews (Saw II and III)

#saw franchise #saw #saw iii #saw ii #saw trap #jigsaw #amanda young #slow ass Jeff #lynnmanda #peter strahm #mark hoffman #adam stanheight #lawrence gordon

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freyaphoria · 4 months ago

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Run Away Together (Part II)

a/n: It's me again! I apologize for making you wait months for the second part of this. First of all, this is the continuation of the first part I wrote, the main story. Since everything got so mixed, I feel the need to state it again. This story is the continuation of the fic where reader and hwa tried to escape and joong shot reader in the leg. I will start writing the second part of Passion to Punishment. And I would like to thank my babe, @matzrionette , for her contributions♡ PLEASE READ THE FIC SHE WROTE, I READ IT THREE TIMES EVERY DAY

tw: yan!hongjoong, poor hwa:( , blood, violence, bone fracture, failed escape attempt, punishment, swearing, knife, gun, killing, being shot, fever, painkiller use, body bruise, bone breaking with an iron rod, fainting, slightly gore, manipulation, hurt comfort(HAJDMDJ sorry), I had so much fun writing Jongho's parts, Yunho is at the crime scene AGAIN, kinda seongjoong

wc: 6.5k

taglist: @aim-blossom

Yan!Matz masterlist

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Hongjoong, with his hands covered in blood from bandaging his new doll, opened the basement door, locked the two of them inside, and went upstairs. He had to do it; he had to hurt them. The tension in the air was palpable as he ascended the creaky wooden stairs, each step echoing the weight of his decision. Hongjoong's mind raced with conflicting emotions. He knew that to protect you, protect Seonghwa, drastic measures were necessary, even if it meant compromising his own morals. The blood on his hands was a stark reminder of the lengths he was willing to go to keep you here. As he reached the top of the stairs, he know that the consequences of his actions would haunt him for a long time to come.

Seonghwa’s attempt to escape after months, and your somehow convincing him, was an indication that Hongjoong’s plans were going well. Did Seonghwa breaking his rules make him unhappy? Yes, it did cause him a measure of displeasure. However, at this moment, what truly mattered was not Hongjoong’s feelings. After all, in the grand scheme of things, he would ultimately get what he desired; he had the power to make Seonghwa worship him once again. That was not what mattered right now.

After stepping out of the shower, Hongjoong meticulously put on his new clothes, carefully combed, and dried his growing hair. This grooming routine ensured he looked exceedingly neat, normal, and entirely harmless. His youthful yet captivating appearance was a highly effective tool in gaining the trust of his unsuspecting victims. People were drawn to his neat, his warm smile, the soft and gentle tone of his voice, the light that sparkled in his eyes, the professional gestures he employed while speaking, and the seamless harmony of the words he chose. Just like Seonghwa did...

If he lingered at home any longer, he would be late, so he quickly got ready and packed his belongings into a backpack. The weather had gotten colder compared to two hours ago when he had shot one of his victims and dragged the other inside, and he was angry with himself for not wearing his jacket and putting it in his bag. After quickly getting into his car and starting it, he turned on the heater and took out the paper from the glove compartment. He knew where he was going, but he still wanted to check. He saw photos of a man in the file. In the first photo on his profile, the old man's wrinkled eyes were full of life and shone with a light that was unexpected from his age. Hongjoong took pleasure in very few things as much as he took pleasure in making lively people lose their zest for life.

When he reviewed the file again and reached the last page, he suddenly hit his forehead with his hand in frustration. He was supposed to inform someone before leaving the house, but it had completely slipped his mind. He quickly went to the contacts on his phone, scrolling through the list, and was just about to find the name of the person he needed to inform when the phone rang. The unexpected call interrupted his search, and he hesitated for a moment before answering. When he saw who was calling, he realized he was indeed late, and the person on the other end of the line was likely angry with him.

“Why the fuck are you late?”

“How the fuck are you talking to your hyung like that?” Hongjoong fastened his seatbelt and put the files back in the glove compartment.

"Hyung my ass. I’m freezing here, hurry up or I’ll screw you the first moment I see you.”

“Shut up, I’m in the car, I’m coming"

“Hurry up, asshole.” All he wanted was a little respect, but he was looking for it in the wrong place. Respect was currently in the basement, probably calming down his new little lover. Hongjoong drove the car out of the parking lot and hit the road.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

You had started to come to your senses. Hongjoong, the most considerate person in the world, had taken the bullet out of your leg without any anesthetic and stitched it up, causing you to pass out from the pain. But being extremely considerate, he had given you a choice: “Pick your own punishment, either I take that bullet out without any drugs, or I don’t take it out and it stays there.” You were going to choose the second option at first, but because living with a constantly bleeding wound that nearly exposed your bone and getting infected in this dusty basement would be impossible, you chose the first option.

And oh, when he inserted a big tweezer into your leg to remove the bullet, the pain was so intense that you wished you would die from the infection. The searing agony felt like it would never end. Maybe you didn't realize he hurt you so much on purpose, but the last thing you remember is Seonghwa holding your hand tightly, his grip firm and unwavering. His eyes were swollen and red from crying, tears streaming down his face as he whispered words of comfort, trying to keep you conscious and hopeful. The room around you seemed to blur, but Seonghwa's presence was the only thing that kept you grounded in those harrowing moments. Still, Seonghwa wasn’t very successful and you left yourself in the darkness of your mind.

"Angel! You're awake!" As Seonghwa crawled towards you, you tried to sit up from where you were lying. The constant pain in your leg and the cold spreading throughout your body made you jump and shiver suddenly. "Wait, don't get up suddenly." When you looked at him, you saw that his legs were bruised and swollen. It looked like the bruises on his skin were about to burst and bleed, as if he had been hit by something very hard. "H-Hwa? What happened to you?" your voice came out very hoarse, all that shouting and gasping in pain had dried your throat. Despite feeling freezing cold, the warmth coming from within you made you uncomfortable and you started to shiver. "Don't worry, I'm fine, but you have a fever. We need to bring it down." Seonghwa placed his hand on your sweaty forehead to check your temperature. His hands were trembling, and if you looked closely, you could also see his lips trembling.

"Is he still here?" you asked in a low and nervous voice, your eyes darting around the dark basement as if expecting him to appear any second. He shook his head slowly, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "He left about half an hour ago," he replied, his voice steady as he tried to stay calm and not alarm you.

He dragged himself on the ground again, his movements slow and labored, trying to reach the bathroom in the basement. You watched him with growing anxiety, the silence between you heavy with unspoken questions. "What did he do to your legs?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but he didn't answer. Instead, he wet a tissue and came back to you, his face pale and etched with pain.

"Hwa, did he break your legs?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you tried to understand the extent of his injuries. He looked at you with haunted eyes, the silence stretching on, making your heart pound even harder.

When the wet and cold tissue touched your forehead, you shivered and wanted to pull back, but Seonghwa held your head with one hand, preventing you from retreating. “It doesn’t matter. We need to lower your fever first.” As he moved the napkin from your face to your neck, you flinched more and tried to move forward to escape, but your injured leg hit Seonghwa’s probably broken leg. A deep, pain-filled groan came from Seonghwa, and he tried to hold his leg. “Seonghwa! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.” While Seonghwa continued to writhe in pain, he nodded at you and tried to smile as much as the pain allowed. “It-it’s okay. It-it will pass soon- Agh….” “We need to wrap your leg, there must be a cloth here, right?” When Seonghwa saw you moving, he grabbed your shoulder and tried to lay you back down. “I’ll take care of it, you worry about yourself. Your fever is too high.” He could never be convinced. Once he set his mind on something, he would definitely do it, and if he didn’t want to do something, he would never do it, so you didn’t argue with him further.

Seonghwa managed to lower your fever a bit and found a painkiller from the depths of the basement; its expiration date had passed by 3 months, and normally you shouldn’t take it, but it was a mild herbal medicine, and you really needed it. To see if you would be okay after taking it, Seonghwa tried it himself first and, not seeing any side effects, gave it to you as well. And surprisingly, it worked. Seonghwa hid these medicines in one of the most cluttered parts of the basement in case such an event happened again. As your pain eased, your fatigue fully surfaced, and you let yourself fall asleep. Seeing that you fell asleep willingly without passing out, Seonghwa felt a bit relieved. As he saw your fever dropping and the bleeding from your wound stopping, he remembered he needed to treat himself.

His leg was extremely swollen and constantly aching, a persistent pain that seemed to get worse with each passing moment. The pain was so intense that it made him feel dizzy and lightheaded, as if the world around him was spinning, and the painkiller he took didn’t work for him. He thought about taking another one but didn’t, in case you needed it again since it worked for you. Hongjoong had probably broken both of his legs with an iron rod, right below the calf.

He couldn't stand on both of his legs; previously, he had hit his leg with an iron rod because he had tried to escape, but at that time, he could still stand a little. This time, it was impossible. It must have been definitely broken. The sharp pain was spreading from his ankle to his thighs, and from there to his entire body, becoming unbearable. It felt as if his entire body was broken, with pain everywhere. Every part of him hurt with each heartbeat and blood pump, making it impossible for him to stay still. The pain was making him dizzy, and his vision was starting to darken. If he didn't pull himself together, he would faint, and if he woke up only to find that Hongjoong's anger hadn't subsided and he attacked her again, he wouldn't be able to protect her while unconscious. But why was he protecting her in the first place? Was it because he felt guilty? Because he had given Hongjoong the idea to kidnap her? Maybe Hongjoong should have killed her right there.

He needed to pull himself together; he was sweating profusely, even in this cold basement. Crawling was excruciating, as if his leg was being sanded with sandpaper and his skin was being set on fire. Nevertheless, he had to wash his face. He had to do something, or he would lose himself. He pulled himself forward using his arms towards the sink. His arms also hurt; Hongjoong had hit his arm when he raised it to defend himself, but at least it wasn't broken. Compared to the pain in his leg, the pain in his arm was nothing. But the most painful thing was breaking Hongjoong's trust.

He shouldn't have done it, yes, he had gone too far. He had ruined Hongjoong's trust in 5 minutes and didn't know if Hongjoong would trust him the same way again. But freedom had seemed very tempting. It meant he still wasn't a completely obedient toy to him, he needed more shaping. He noted to himself that when Hongjoong returned home, he would need to fall at his feet, apologize hundreds of times, and beg for his forgiveness.

He gave a sigh of relief when he reached the sink with tears streaming down his face from the pain. It had taken him about 5 minutes to get there from your side, even though it would normally take a regular person 10 seconds. If you suddenly called him, he couldn't come immediately, so he had to finish it quickly and return to your side. He lifted himself using the strength from his arms, each muscle straining with effort, and bent over the sink. He tried not to put any weight on his feet, which throbbed with a dull, persistent pain. When he quickly washed his face with the cold water, the sensation momentarily jolting him awake, he let himself fall back to the ground and groaned in pain. He balled up a piece of toilet paper, wet it under the faucet, and, leaning heavily against the door frame, placed it on his ankle as a makeshift cold compress. He looked over at you sleeping calmly on the other side of the basement, your breathing steady and peaceful. He wished so much that he could sleep like you right now, to escape his pain and find some semblance of rest… Maybe he could sleep. His head was spinning, and the floor wasn't stable, it felt like he was on a roller coaster. As his head and eyelids grew heavier, his body began to relax. The pain hadn't gone away, it was still there, but at least he wasn't thinking about it right now. He would sleep, even if Hongjoong came here and took you, he would sleep, he needed it so much. The cold wetness of the wet paper ball on his leg had calmed him, and he let himself fall asleep.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

"If you keep complaining about the weather a little more, Jongho, I'll throw you out of the car and you'll walk the whole way. I even turned on the heater for you, what more do you want?" Jongho shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at Hongjoong while shivering. "You accepted this gig, dragged me along, and now you're saying you'll throw me out of the car?" Jongho snapped angrily in one go. "You also chose to team up with me, you could have told Yunho, and he would have changed it. So stop whining." After Hongjoong's harsh response, the younger one sighed, sank into his seat, and started watching the road through the car window.

They weren't a good team, they constantly bickered and argued over the smallest things, but they still got their work done and left no evidence behind. "We're here, wake up, princess." Hongjoong said with a mocking tone as soon as they arrived. Jongho, who had been in a light sleep, immediately woke up and punched Hongjoong in the arm. "I'm not that little mouse you took into your home, don't call me that again, bastard." If they didn't have a job to do, they would probably have fought each other, but they knew if they didn't get the job done on time, Yunho would nag them. "Move, don't dawdle." Hongjoong got out of the car and looked at the ultra-luxurious villa adorned with lights. 'Same scenario again...' he thought to himself

They had paid a large amount to kill that old man to Hongjoong and Jongho, and now the reason was understood. Another rich businessman, another money-related murder. "How do these bastards have so much money?" Jongho stuck his head out of the car and looked at the mansion, which was almost invisible from the lights. "They don't sit at home jerking off like you, they work." Hongjoong spoke as he opened his trunk and took out his equipment. "What am I doing right now? Do you see my dick out or am I on the job?" Jongho also joined Hongjoong and started rummaging through his bag.

The mansion was four stories tall and very wide, built in a new architecture, and the ornamental shrubs in its garden looked recently pruned. As Yunho had said, surprisingly, only two security guards were protecting this huge house, and they didn't seem to be paying much attention to their surroundings. They could easily be killed. Hongjoong put on his special gloves and mask, took his gun and spare bullets. Normally, he wouldn't go on a mission with so little equipment, but Yunho had told them that even a few bullets would suffice, and they trusted him. He and his team had never made a mistake.

After dressing, Jongho threw his bag into the car and closed the car door. Outside, the only sound other than the wind was the two security guards talking as if they were discussing something very important. Both guards were taller than them but very distracted. Even though Hongjoong’s car wasn't very far away, the gurads still hadn't noticed them. With Hongjoong's signal, the two of them advanced from the side of the car to the front yard, towards the guards. Jongho usually preferred to use a knife; he was very good in close combat. Hongjoong was also good, but Jongho was much stronger than him.

They continued to approach silently. Since the house lights illuminated the entire path, there was nowhere to hide or camouflage; they had to be quick and attack as soon as they approached. Using the garden wall as cover, they got closer and were now very close to the guards. Jongho wondered how such careless people could be guards, but it worked in his favor. Thanks to that, he would complete his mission and receive a large amount of money he had never received before.

The guards were about three meters in front of them. In this silence, Jongho and Hongjoong could hear all their conversations, even their breathing. They had prepared themselves to kill them instantly. If Yunho was wrong and there were more guards, they didn't know what they would do.

Jongho stepped in front of Hongjoong and took his long and large knife in his left hand; he waited for Hongjoong's signal.

Hongjoong pulled the trigger of his suppressor-equipped gun, ensuring he held it properly with both hands for maximum stability. The suppressor wouldn't completely block the sound of the shot, but it would significantly muffle it. Since they were in an open area and the distance between the entrance and the house was far, it could prevent those inside the house from hearing the noise.

The two of them made eye contact, their gazes locking in silent communication. Hongjoong raised his eyebrows, a clear gesture indicating that he was waiting for approval from Jongho. Understanding the unspoken question, Jongho blinked in confirmation. With a steady hand, Hongjoong pulled his left hand away from the gun, making sure Jongho could see his every move. He showed three fingers to Jongho, signaling a countdown. Then, he lowered one finger, then two, and then one. And as Jongho grabbed the neck of the man with his back turned and stabbed him with the knife, Hongjoong simultaneously shot the man facing the knife-wounded man in the forehead. It had taken no more than 3 seconds for both to die, and as they had predicted, no other guards came from anywhere else. It was a very quiet job; everything had happened in an instant.

Now they had left the man on the ground with blood gushing from his neck and the other man whose brains were scattered all over the road and entered the garden to proceed towards their main goal, towards the mansion.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

Suddenly, you were jolted awake by a sharp, piercing pain. As your consciousness slowly returned, you realized that your leg was bleeding from the area where it had been stitched up. It seemed that during your sleep, you must have made a wrong move, causing the stitches to tear open. The pain was so intense and overwhelming that for a brief moment, you completely forgot where you were and what was happening around you. The room seemed to blur as your mind struggled to catch up with the sudden burst of agony.

"Hwa..." You called out weakly to him, but got no response. The place where you were lying was stained and damp with the mixture of blood and the wet cloth that Hwa had used to bring down your fever. Your wound was definitely going to get infected. You tried to see Seonghwa in the darkness of the basement but it was nearly impossible. The reflection of the moonlight from the small window only illuminated the area in front of you. At least you knew he wasn't nearby.

"Hwa, are you here?" you called out, raising your voice slightly. The tension in your tone was unmistakable, filled with worry and fear. Seonghwa would never leave you alone after a punishment, especially not when you were suffering from a fever and bleeding. It was so unlike him. As the blood from your leg ran down your thighs once more, you felt a sharp pang of pain. Your vision blurred slightly, and you realized just how parched you were. The thirst crept up on you, making your mouth feel dry and your throat scratchy. You needed water, but more than that, you needed Seonghwa by your side to reassure you that everything would be okay.

The only continuous water source in the basement was the water from the sink, and there was no problem with drinking it. Besides, even if there was an issue, you had to drink it. Your mouth was very dry, and your lips were cracked.

You didn't want to try standing up; it would hurt too much. The idea of enduring another layer of pain on top of the already unbearable one was simply inconceivable. So, instead, you gathered all the strength you could muster and began to drag yourself towards the sink, relying heavily on your good leg and the support of your arms. As you slowly inched your way forward, you were startled by the sight of a silhouette leaning on the bathroom door. Your heart immediately started to beat rapidly, pounding in your chest, and you were gripped by a sudden sense of panic, not knowing what to do next. In your frantic state, you attempted to crawl back in the opposite direction, desperate to escape whatever danger the shadow might represent. But then, a low, agonized familiar groan emanated from the shadow, causing you to pause in your tracks. The sound was filled with such pain that it made you stop crawling.

"Seonghwa? Is that you?" you called out, your voice trembling with worry. When the shadow made a sound as if confirming, you quickly crawled towards him, your heart pounding in your chest. As you got closer, you could finally make out his features. He was drenched in sweat, and his eyes seemed glazed over, indicating that he wasn't fully conscious. His body started to writhe and moan in place, and you quickly realized that his condition was far worse than your own.

You reached out and touched his forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from his skin. He had a fever, and it was burning through him even in this cold basement. You pulled back slightly, your eyes scanning down to his legs. The sight made your stomach churn. If you had to describe it in one word, it would be 'terrible'. His legs were completely messed up. Despite the poor visibility in the darkness, you could distinguish light from dark, and Seonghwa’s legs were an ominous, deep shade. They were swollen and purple up to his kneecaps, but 'purple' didn't quite capture it—they were almost black. "Seonghwa! Why didn’t you wake me up? Your legs are so bad!" you exclaimed in a panic.

You knew you had to help him. The condition of his legs was alarming, and you weren't sure if a person could die from such severe bone fractures, but he looked like he was on the brink. It was clear that Hongjoong must have hit the same spot over and over, pulverizing his bones into a gruesome state. Seonghwa's suffering was evident, and you couldn't let him endure it alone.

"Ugh… it hurts…” he groaned softly, feeling the intense pain radiate through his body. “I know it hurts. Wait,” you responded, your voice filled with concern. You stood up very nervously, taking great care not to open any more stitches that had barely begun to heal. And you did it! You managed to balance yourself by putting your strength into your good foot.

With determination, you wet a few cloths in the sink and leaned over to run them over his face, just like he had done for you before. The soothing touch of the wet cloths seemed to provide a small comfort in the midst of the chaos.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a loud bang, and the clatter of metal filled the room. Startled, you lost your balance and fell to the ground. Even though the impact sent sharp waves of pain through your body, you chose not to make a sound out of fear. The last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to yourself and face the devil who was now approaching.

He came right at you with an air of menace. As he suddenly turned on the lights, the harsh brightness illuminated his dangerous face. His expression was constantly grinning, as if everything was so funny, a stark contrast to the terror and pain you were experiencing. The sinister amusement in his eyes made your blood run cold.

“Where were we?” Hongjoong's voice sounded sarcastic and amused, the tone of someone who finds great entertainment in the suffering of others. Seonghwa’s eyes snapped open as soon as he heard his voice. It was like he had just woken up from a nightmare, except the nightmare was about to begin now, in real life, with no escape. “Don’t come any closer, can’t you see our condition? We’re already in a bad situation. What more do you want?” Your voice was trapped in fear, trembling and barely audible. You were wondering if he could hear you because your voice was so quiet, almost a whisper.

He took slow, deliberate steps in front of you, his eyes never leaving your trembling form. As he approached, towering over you, you felt the weight of his gaze. You were pinned to the ground, feeling utterly tiny and insignificant under his scrutiny. The sight of you, bloody and scared, with helplessness written all over your face, made his heart race with a mix of excitement and something darker. Seeing you in such a vulnerable state stirred something deep inside him, an insatiable desire that making him want more.

Seonghwa, with a sudden burst of energy, lunged forward, using all his strength to drag himself to Hongjoong’s feet. His movements were frantic, and it was clear that he still wasn't in his right mind. Hongjoong, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement. Hongjoong knew exactly what Seonghwa was going to do.

Hwa, what are you doin-” You were cut off when Seonghwa threw himself at Hongjoong’s feet, desperation evident in every movement. “I-I beg you, f-forgive me. I didn’t do it on purpose- agh! I didn’t do it on purpose. P-please love me again. I’ll do a-anything!” The basement was eerily silent except for Seonghwa’s pitiful pleading. Hongjoong watched him without uttering a single word, his expression unreadable. “Why would I forgive you? Who would love naughty little bunnies like you? After all, you betrayed me.” Seonghwa started to cry harder at Hongjoong’s cold, cutting words. You were on the verge of tears too, the discomfort and tension of the situation weighing heavily on you. You wanted to tell him to shut up and go back to his old place, but you were too scared to intervene.

“No, I’m not! I’m not naughty! I didn’t mean to act like that!” Seonghwa’s voice was choked with emotion, his tears flowing freely. Hongjoong watched his masterpiece with a sense of twisted satisfaction. His first love, with his legs broken, threw himself at his feet and begged for forgiveness while his new toy, with her burst stitches, watched what was happening in fear and helplessness. The wiev was of unparalleled beauty. If he hadn’t left his phone upstairs, he would have definitely taken a photo to preserve this view forever. Hongjoong felt a surge of power and control, basking in the pain and fear that radiated from both of you. The basement, usually a place of darkness and dread, became a stage for his cruel artistry, a tableau of suffering and submission.

“But you acted like that.” He finished his sentence with a smile by kicking Seonghwa in the chest. When Seonghwa’s breath hitched and he fell back, you backed away from Hongjoong in panic. Neither of you could muster the courage to speak. Only the sound of his painful, ragged breathing filled the room. Hongjoong looked down at Seonghwa’s ankles. They were broken, but it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t heal in a few weeks. Despite his injuries, it was almost endearing how Seonghwa continued to beg for forgiveness in such a weakened state. When Hongjoong shifted his gaze to you, he noticed that your leg was bleeding again. If he went any further, it would be hard for both of you to heal, so he decided it was enough for now. “Since I’m such an understanding person, I’ll end your punishment here. But you’ll be staying here for the next few days.” You were relieved that he wouldn’t hurt you any further. But you both needed proper first aid right now. “We can’t stay like this. H-Hwa is in a bad condition. Can’t you help him?” Your voice trembled as Seonghwa flinched when he heard his name as he writhed on the ground. The fact that you were thinking of him warmed his aching heart a little. Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa again and smiled that annoying smile of his. “You should have thought of that before you ran away together.”

You thought he would at least help Seonghwa. After all, Seonghwa had asked for forgiveness from him and had been with Hongjoong for a long time. But he hadn’t. He would leave him like this, he would leave you like this. You shouted and cursed after him as he left the basement; you didn’t know where you found this confidence but you were very angry with him. Interestingly enough, he didn’t turn around and do anything to you after you insulted him. He just locked the door and went upstairs.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

As it was 5 am, the exhaustion of the whole day had settled on him like a heavy blanket. All he wanted was to take another shower to wash away the day's fatigue and then fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Normally, he couldn’t sleep without Seonghwa by his side, but tonight he was so tired that he knew he had to sleep, no matter what. He didn’t even have the energy to dry his hair after stepping out of the shower with wet hair clinging to his face and neck. Instead, he just threw himself on the bed with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and his hair still dripping wet. He was probably going to get sick from it, but he didn’t care right now. All he could think about was closing his eyes and escaping into the oblivion of sleep.

He couldn’t sleep. Despite his best efforts to find a comfortable position, he tossed and turned in bed for what seemed like hours. The chill in the air only made things worse, seeping through only the damp towel tied around his waist and about to be opened and causing him to shiver. The cold weather, combined with the lingering dampness of his towel, was a miserable combination that left him feeling even more cold. He had to wrap himself in something. Something warm. Something warm to take away the cold in his heart and body...

He got up with a stumbling motion, slowly put on some clothes, and started walking down the stairs. The sky was gradually lightening at dawn, casting a soft glow over everything, and the fresh morning air was filling the house through the open windows. He quietly opened the basement door, careful not to make any noise. He could see who was where with the light of the new sunlight seeping through the window. You were both sleeping where he had left you last, Seonghwa lying on the floor and you sitting with your backs against the wall. Sleeping would be the wrong word to describe your state. You were more like unconscious.

Hongjoong picked up his favorite toy, trying not to wake or hurting his toy. Although he was short compared to most men, he had a strength that was unexpected from his appearance; he was very strong, so he was able to easily lift his favorite. He returned to the basement door, casting one final glance at his other toy. Without locking it, he quietly closed the door and ascended the stairs. As he gently laid his toy on the bed, he heard a groan of pain.

“Shh, go back to sleep, my prince. I’m here.” Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he locked eyes with Hongjoong, feeling a rush of emotions. He loved him for that. No matter how much Hongjoong hurt him, he would always take care of Seonghwa and show him love. Hongjoong couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Even though he was still running away, he was still in Hongjoong’s bed right now. “I’ll wrap your legs, wait here,” Hongjoong said softly. When he returned with the first aid kit and went to Seonghwa’s side, he saw him looking at him with admiration and a disturbing level of affection. “What?” Hongjoong asked as he unwrapped the new bandage pack in his hands, trying to ignore the intensity in Seonghwa's eyes.

“I love you,” Seonghwa whispered. He loved him very much. Or maybe he thought he did; sometimes, he didn’t know. The lines were blurred. Hongjoong broke him so well, yet he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of attachment. It was a complicated, twisted love, but it was all they had. Hongjoong broke him so well.

“It'll be over soon, don't worry. Just keep your legs straight.”

Seonghwa didn’t take offense that Hongjoong didn’t tell him he loved him back. He knew Hongjoong loved him too.

“Ugh Joongie, it hurts so much." Seonghwa squirmed in discomfort as he felt the tight bandage wrapped securely around his legs, which were throbbing with sharp pain. “Shh shh, I know. Be a good little bunny for me, and don't squirm.” Hongjoong's soothing yet firm voice made Seonghwa suddenly go still. He didn't want to disappoint him even more with his actions. "That's a good boy. I'll give you painkillers as a reward." Hongjoong's words were filled with a mixture of comfort and authority. Seonghwa's eyes met Hongjoong's, filled with a silent plea for relief, and he nodded weakly.

After Hongjoong finished wrapping Seonghwa’s legs tightly to ensure they were properly supported, he gave him a strong painkiller and laid down on the bed next to Seonghwa. He was enveloped in the warmth he so desperately needed, and the soothing heat radiating from Seonghwa’s weakened body served as a balm for Hongjoong’s cold heart and chilled body.

He closed his eyes, thinking that he could finally get some much-needed sleep by holding him tightly in his arms without hurting him too much. The warmth and comfort he felt were almost enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he suddenly heard the annoying ringing of his phone. The sound was jarring in the quiet room, and he opened his eyes again, startled by the sudden noise, he noticed Seonghwa jump slightly in his arms. He gently reassured Seonghwa, whispering softly that nothing was wrong and that he should continue sleeping. With a sigh, he carefully reached for his phone to see who was calling, hoping it wasn't something urgent that would further disrupt their rest.

Jeong Yunho.

It was strange that he was calling at this hour, and if he was calling after the mission, it usually meant there was a problem with the mission. He sighed in annoyance and picked up the phone.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hyung, you need to come here immediately.”

The voice on the other end of the phone was anxious. It was hard to see Yunho anxious; he was always so sure of what he was doing and relaxed. Something was definitely wrong.

Hongjoong cursed at him when the phone abruptly hung up on him. Yunho always liked to make people curious and leave them hanging. As Hongjoong got out of bed and started getting dressed, he caught sight of Seonghwa’s anxious eyes. “Is someone in trouble again or are the police going to raid our house?” He could speak more comfortably now that the pain had subsided a little. “I don't know, he didn't say. Also, don’t bother your beautiful brain with such things. I’ll be back in a few hours. Make sure our princess doesn’t escape from the basement in the meantime. Otherwise, I won’t forgive you this time, Park Seonghwa. So, keep an eye on her and don't let your guard down again.”

It was absolutely impossible for someone upstairs with broken legs to check if someone in the basement had escaped, so Hongjoong carefully picked him up again before leaving the house and took him down to the basement. Although Seonghwa felt a deep sadness to leave the comfort of his bed and the warmth of Hongjoong’s arms, he was happy and relieved that he would now be able to keep an eye on you. Leaving the two of you in the brightly lit basement once more, Hongjoong made a mental note to get Seonghwa a pair of crutches on his way home. He then grabbed the bag containing his weapons and equipment, ensuring everything he needed was inside, and headed back to his car with a sense of urgency.

I wanna feedback juseyo♡ I wanna feedback please♡ I wanna feedback çebal♡

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internetskiff · 5 months ago

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I've sometimes seen this sentiment, especially among reviewers, that SOMA's WAU ""monster plot"" contributes nothing to the main game's story, and that the storyline would infact benefit from the WAU's removal. If you ask me, that couldn't be further from the truth. The WAU is at the root of everything. Frankly, it's the main reason the game's moral dilemmas are.. well, dilemmas at all. If the WAU wasn't making monsters, wasn't there to warp the life around Pathos-II as it saw fit, the game wouldn't have even started. Pathos-II would've just remained dormant forever. Simon wouldn't be there, and neither would any of the obstacles he faces on his journey to preserve humanity. The main reason the WAU isn't directly beneficial to Earth is exactly because its understanding of "life" is so skewed. Its not just bringing things back - its bringing them back incorrectly. Every single "monster" we meet builds a case both against and for the WAU's continued existence.

The Construct shows the WAU's failure to understand humanity in the physical sense, shoving a Human brain scan into a misshapen robot body and calling it a day, leaving it to babble to itself as it aimlessly wanders the halls of Upsilon.

The same could be said for Carl Semken and the other Mockingbirds, though to a lesser degree - though capable of speech, they're still very delusional and oftentimes end up going insane. Still, in some ways you see the WAU's understanding of human psychology progress with each new mockingbird - they become increasingly coherent and increasingly sane, Catherine and Robin Bass being great examples. While the Construct has lost so much of itself you can no longer tell who it used to be, the other Mockingbirds have their sense of self intact. With the WAU's unreliable nature cemented, we move on to its attempts at preserving humans physically, with Amy Azarro being the first proper example Simon gets to witness.

She's kept alive in what seems to be a perpetual state of discomfort, and judging by the structure gel slowly overtaking her I believe the WAU may be slowly converting her into one of the Fleshers. Its keeping her alive, yes, but its doing so at any cost necessary - it doesn't matter if she's in constant pain as long as she doesn't flatline. Its treatment of actual organisms is practically an inversion of its treatment of the Mockingbirds - instead of prioritizing the mental wellbeing of the subject, the WAU prioritizes their physical wellbeing with little to no care for the mental state its "patient" is in the entire time.

Fleshers live and breathe, but they seemingly aren't "all there" at all. The lights are on, but no one's home anymore. All they do is wander the ruins of the CURIE and lash out at anyone who enters their territory - the WAU has basically reduced them to animals.

Terry's been driven insane from all the structure gel infesting his insides, and though his goal was "technically" benevolent (putting everyone into a permanent dream state where the WAU could make them live the best possible versions of their lives), he achieved it through incredibly violent means, conducting what was basically an attack on Theta and causing its downfall. So far, its attempts at preserving humans physically have simply resulted in increasingly grotesque and violent monstrosities - but I would argue you see that begin to change when Simon reaches Omicron.

When you reach it, you see the aftermath of a particularly gruesome procedure WAU had carried out - everyone's blackboxes have exploded, turning their heads to mush. We find out that one of the employees, with the help of someone particularly close to the WAU, had figured out how to poison it. They have been receiving "visions" and "messages" from a comatose Johan Ross - the WAU's "AI psychologist", someone it desperately tried to restore from a comatose state by manipulating structure gel with electromagnetic fields. Either the WAU deliberately retaliated when it figured out the poisoning plot, or it had simply overdone it when restoring Johan Ross - sacrificing an entire station's worth of lives to bring someone back. Either way this shows a tremendous amount of intelligence on the WAU's part - and also paints it as either exceptionally cruel or exceptionally empathetic depending on the perspective you view it from. Either it considered Johan so important to it that it was willing to sacrifice most Omicron staff, or it was willing to violently retaliate in order to preserve itself. Either way, Omicron houses what I believe to be a sign of the WAU's steadily improving understanding of humanity - Dr. Johan Ross.

He has been restored with both his physical health and mental faculties (relatively) intact. He isn't violent, and he perfectly understands what condition he is currently in - but despite that he doesn't seem to be physically suffering. He is still driven to eliminate the WAU, but it seems to be less out of personal suffering and more out of fear in regards to the suffering its other creations may go through. I believe he's an example of a semi-perfectly restored human - both him and Simon himself. They're both cases of, as Catherine puts it, "a sound mind in a sound body". But although the signs are there, there is no outright definitive proof that the WAU's creations will only continue to get better.

And that's what makes the game's final moral dilemma so compelling to me. The whole game has been providing us with both evidence and counterevidence towards the WAU's idea of restoring humanity. Now, it's up to you to act as its jury and executioner. By killing it you either stop it from torturing the memory of humanity, or you doom humanity to extinction in all senses of the word. By keeping it alive, you either doom the remnants of humanity to an eternal torturous existence, or you give the WAU a chance at creating something new. There is no way of knowing what choice is correct - because you don't know what the WAU is thinking. You never get to. You don't know its plans, you don't know if it even has the capacity to actually learn from its mistakes, hell, you don't even know if its capable of thought - but here it is. Making things. Terrible things, but there's a chance that it'll only get better with time. Simon himself is evidence of that chance. It has already managed to make what could be classified as a "complete" person. And if you kill it, Simon's going to be the last "complete" person it managed to bring back.

#soma #soma (2015)#soma game #the WAU #soma WAU #WAU #frictional games #rambling #simon jarrett #johan ross

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thewritetofreespeech · 6 months ago

Text

Gale x Tav

WORDS: 1994

RATING: E

PAIRING: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

SUMMARY: Gale's perspective on how his lovely little ring went while he was all alone, watching Tav through his projection's eyes (part i part ii)

TAGS: magic sex (literally. but also metaphorically), f/m, voyeurism, Gale using magic for naughty reasons, masturbation

-------------------------------🟣--------------------------------

Some of the most gifted, magically academic minds were in this hall right now. And all they could do was argue about table settings.

Gale sighed and stood up from his chair with his drink. Already tuning out the lively debate about Faerûn midcentury design and how one professor could tell that its wood was clearly Zazesspur from the pre-capital era, while another professor stated she was clearly being absurd as the lines in the wood were obviously from a wood in a much more norther region like Neverwinter.

He left his wife home alone for this?

Gale left the company of his fellow academics for his quarters. No one seemed to notice. There was a time when Gale himself would have been immersed in the lively debate along with his other book beaters. Sparing wits and parring with obscure contextual footnotes for no other reason than to prove they were the smartest in the room. It all seemed so trivial now.

Once you’ve brushed against death, not once but twice, and fought the destruction of the world with your bare hands, academic strife seemed…pointless. Absolutely pointless. Like the rest of this week had been.

When he originally received the invitation for the summit, Gale had been overjoyed. Honored, more like. To be recognized as a man of distinction at the school he held so dear, in education in general, for only just starting was a great achievement for him, he felt. Now he wonders if it was just that no one wanted to go, because it was so boring.

He wished that he could have just projected his consciousness here, like Tav suggested, so he could be home with her now. With his much better wine and much less blow-harded company.

The door to his quarters clicked into place behind him and Gale sighed at the quiet. Enjoying it for just a moment, until he opened his eyes and saw just the small desk, by his small bed, in his small room, with his small window. Oh to be home…..

Gale took a seat at the desk as he wasn’t quite ready for bed. He sat his wine down. His magic lighting the few lamps in the room for him to see as he debated about reading or reviewing the agenda plan for tomorrow in want of something to do.

Then his eyes caught a glint of the ring resting on the oak (or was it Neverwinter ashe?) and picked it up. A gift from his wife. One of those spontaneous, no reason, ‘I was down by the market & I thought you would like it’ kind of gifts. Gale smiled wistfully at the memory of her giving it to him. And he thought he was the romantic out of the two of them.

His thumb brushed against the smooth silver. Admiring it, like he wished he could be admiring her right now. This was the longest he and his beloved had been apart since they got married. A few days here and there, but nothing this consecutive nor extensive. Gale doesn’t like it.

He tries not to be obsessive with his love, but when Gale loves he loves passionately. And Tav has been a big part of his life ever since she pulled him out of that misbehaving portal. They’ve built a life together. She’s the first person he wants to tell everything about his day, and eager to hear what she’s been up to when they were apart. And at night...well, let’s just say that it was a good thing this place had the option for bracing cold baths in the morning.

Gale examines the ring further as his teeth pull in his bottom lip. ‘I wonder if it will work’ He mused to himself as he pondered on a spell he had created a few months back but never put into practice.

It started out purely from an academic standpoint. He wanted to make that very clear! Just a simple…trans configuration experiment on magically linking two objects together and see what the effects would be. He hadn’t intended for it to turn into a sort of randy parlor trick, but he had impulse control issues.

Setting the ring down, Gale recalled the simple incantation and gesture needed for the spell. Focusing his magic and the Weave to press not just into the ring but also link to his beloved. He hoped Mystra had her back turned for a moment while he cast this one.

Spell incantation done, Gale picked up the ring and gave it a small nudge. Nothing happened. He supposed that should be obvious. The effects would be on the other side of the link and not here with him. Gale tried it again, hoping to feel some kind of magical sense of confirmation, but still nothing.

Humming to himself in befuddlement, Gale looked over at the clock in his room and did some quick math. It was almost 2:30 in Waterdeep. Which meant that it was almost time for his normal office hours at the academy. Perfect. If Tav was there, which he was certain she would be as she was dutiful to a fault, then Gale knew exactly where they were, and he could see if his ‘gift’ was working out well for her.

Calling on the Weave again, Gale focused his consciousness and perception to separate from him and fly back home to Waterdeep. Silently wishing it was that easy for him. When his projection landed, and the mental link between them righted into a clear picture, Gale’s mouth went slack as he saw Tav. "Gods above...." Her cheeks were flushed. Her breath panting. Her body in clear stages of pleasure as her hands braced herself on his desk. Gods! What he wouldn’t give to be there right now to make love to her on that definitely Sword Coast mahogany.

“Hello there!”

Tav’s head jerked up at his projections greeting, and Gale groaned at the wild look in her eyes. Surprise first, but then bridled arousal. Just waiting to be unbridled and throw her into loss, but his dutiful love was well aware she was still in public and in a school.

When she spat an accusatory remark about him doing this to her and Gale touched the stone of the ring now on his hand. He watched Tav’s knees quake in response. It worked. Oh....goody.

He moaned in tandem with her image but then told his specter to tell her what was going on. Gale didn’t want to leave her in the dark. Tav seemed to accept this, but then asked about all the practicalities of him doing this at work and getting caught. Wouldn’t that be a shame?

He tells his image to tell her about his office hours and the locked down, then moaned along with her as her hold finally became unbridled and she fell into his chair. Limbs asunder as she just accepted what was happening to her and gave into the pleasure.

Gale continued to touch the stone with one hand, while the other went to his belt and quickly undid it. He’s been hard since he first saw her against his desk. Now seeing her give loose to the pleasure, Gale might cum in his pants like he was a novice back in school and Gods could you imagine if he had someone like Tav for a teacher?? He’d still be in his Active Principles of Elements & Arcane lectures.

His hand stroked his erection with the same speed as his massaged the stone. “Tell her I’m happy she likes my present.” He orders his projection. Watching her through their eyes. It did as it was told and Tav opened her eyes to stare right back into them. Gale moaned. The heat in her eyes, the desire, that cheeky grin coiling on her lips almost make him double over against his own desk.

“My present, eh?” Tav answered back, and Gale bit his lip so hard he nearly tasted blood.

“Yes. Of course. I did this for you.”

The projection relayed his response, but that doesn’t seem to convenience Tav. “Just for me?” Gale watched, transfixed, as his beloved began to open her blouse ‘in front of him’.

He whimpered at the sight as his thumb brushed over the aching red tip of his cock. He had to swallow the drool collecting in his mouth before he could respond with, “yes” for his projection to repeat. But the damn thing went rouge and blurted out his secret, so he pressed his thumb harder against this stone to distract Tav from its honesty.

Soon, Tav was begging him to fuck her. Desperate and needy. Mewling like a wanton kitten; or maybe that was just him. She asked if his projection was anatomically correct like last time and before it could fully answer, Gale ordered, “no!” He didn’t want to watch an illusion of himself make love to his wife. It was silly to be jealous of a projection of himself, that he created, but Gale wouldn’t have it.

If he couldn't have her, no one could. Not even his illusions.

Tav whined and looked ready to just do it herself. Gale gulped as he watched her hand move to the front of her pants, prepared to slide down and--Gale gripped the base of his cock to stop himself from cumming. He wants them to cum together, but it seemed rude to have Tav finish herself off.

Conjuring all the magic he could, Gale used the mind’s eye of his projection to summon Mage Hands. They touch her everywhere he wanted to, all at once. Tav seemed delighted, although overstimulated. He would have to remember that for later. Her delicate sweet hands gripping the armrests of his chair as her body arched and bucked against the hands. Gale watching it all as he jerked himself closer and closer to the edge. “Tav…!” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he had to say it. Almost a reflex at this point as he came.

His hand was a mess. Portions of his desk splattered with it too. Cold baths only negated the symptoms, not the cause. So he was quite backed up since coming here.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

Gale and Tav look up at the projections ask. Taking it upon itself to check in on her. What a good little ghost.

She told it yes, and Gale felt his cock twitch at the look in her eyes. Perfectly sated and happy, but still that glimmer of ‘more’. He tells the projection to let Tav know that the door would be opening soon, and she should get righted with herself; lest they be discovered. She made a very clever retort about him deciding to do this here if he was so concerned, which made him smile and love her all the more.

Gods how he missed her.

“Ask her if she would like to do this again tonight. When we're at home, and a little more private.”

The projection did as it was told, and Gale groaned as Tav bit her lip before giving an enthusiastic yes. Then, Gale severed the link, and he was alone again. Alone with only his hand and his memories.

He cleaned himself off and thought about going back downstairs for a final nightcap, as he was too riled up still to sleep. But when he opened the door, and heard the architecture debate still going on, only now they had switched to stone, Gale closed the door and rested his head on whatever cheap wood this terrible door was made out of.

He had to get out of here. He had to go home.

So he spent the rest of the evening coming up with a clever plan and semi-lie about how his wife needed him. “Emergency. Unavoidable. Must get home before my wife spontaneously combusts…without me. Should probably leave that last part out.”

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ramp-it-up · 2 months ago

Text

Sugar, Cubed II:

Simple Sugar

Summary: I revisited Sugar and the boys from the Sugar is Sweet séries, and let me tell you. Bucky and Steve sure have grown up from their college days. They are no longer playing around. And they are coming for you. You're forced to be roommates with Steve again. But you can establish boundaries. It'll be simple, right?

Word Count: 3K

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; mention of Bucky Barnes x Reader; boss Tony Stark x reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Roommate/Co-worker au, S MUT! Angst, Tony is a shit boss, massive debt. forced proximity. Tattoo talk, Steve apologizes, accidental, then purposeful voyeurism, reference to porn and sex toys, masturbation, talk of impotence, raw p in v, rough sex, dirty talk, lots of cum, eventual polyandry. Basically, you are doomed. Porn with plot.

A/N: This is related to the Sugar is Sweet au, but can be read alone. This is part two to Sugar, Cubed. The next part is soon come! I hope you like it. This is part of Falloween 2024.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

——

After three days of calling in sick, you were summoned for a sit down with Mr. Stark.

This was not a, ”have a drink while Black Sabbath plays and you admire Tony’s t-shirt as he rambles” type of chat. This was, a “let’s review the terms of your contract in the boardroom with suits” type of meeting.

Tony’s eyes admired you in your silk blouse and pencil skirt as you arrived, then watched you pointedly at you as you reviewed the numbers on the page.

Half a million for your bachelor’s and masters degree at NYU. Almost as much for housing. Not to mention the penalty for breaking your contract early. Even if you were paid a pretty penny and you had a ton of savings, you’d still be digging yourself out of a hole for the rest of your life if you quit.

Tony Stark owned your ass.

But you were on the verge of not caring.

“I know, you are over your current working situation, Sugar. But I still believe in you. I believe in the team of BuckySugarSteve.”

You gave him a confused look.

“Still trying to find a hashtag, look that doesn’t matter. It’s come to my attention that a certain plucky Bucky took things a little too far the other night. I’m sorry you had to deal with that on my watch.”

Tony looked sincere. But you eyed him warily.

“Thinking back on what you said last week, I now agree that you need a break. So I’m sending you to the Tokyo lab. But only for a limited time.”

“How long?”

Tony stood and turned his back on you, looking out over the Hudson.

“Depends on the progress made on the project there.”

You stared at his back and his jet black hair and chewed your lip. You wanted out from the tension between the three of you. But there had to be a catch.

“What does the work entail?”

Tony turned back around with a smirk and explained the research and answered a few more questions from you. It seemed right in your skill set. Tony sat back down and crossed his ankle over his leg while he templed his fingers. He stared at you over the conference table.

“So what do you say Sugar?”

“I’m in.”

—--

You should have asked more questions.

Rage boiled inside you as you put up the partition on your business class seat and you typed away angrily on your phone. You shouldn’t have been surprised that your seatmate was Steve Rogers, but you were.

You just cursed as he greeted you and pulled out your phone as the flight attendant gave you the stink eye. Steve arrived just at the doors were closing. And there was no escape.

You wanted to throw your phone after you saw Tony’s response.

“I said you needed a break from Barnes, not Rogers. Suck it up and enjoy your time in Japan. Check out the expense account and your digs in Asakusa. You have to share, because space is at a premium in Tokyo, but you’ll survive.”

You didn’t bother to click the links that Tony sent. The living arrangements were sure to be top notch and the money was probably going to be great, but living with and working next to Steve was not what you were looking forward to.

You popped a sleeping pill and tried to sleep most of the 14 hour flight. After managing to get some rest, you were not as rude to Steve when you had to put down your partition. Luckily, he didn’t try to speak to you and you deboarded the plane and got your luggage and to your driver without incident.

When you got to your place, you were impressed, but anxious.

The place was modern and well placed within walking distance of the trains, but Tony was right. Your apartment in New York was twice the size of this place, and it was only you.

You went to investigate the sleeping situation. There were two small bedrooms and they were right next to each other. Only one had an en-suite.

You were chewing your lip, deep in thought when Steve interrupted reverie. His voice was hoarse from half a day of not being used.

“It’s close quarters, but I will make it so you don’t even know I’m here.”

You turned around to see Steve standing in the doorway of the room you’d silently called dibs on.

He looked like a kid, in his rumpled t-shirt and hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. You almost felt something.

But not quite.

“Look, Sugar. I’m sorry. I really am. What happened in the elevator was… Bucky’s got a lot going on–”

He stopped once he noticed that you had stiffened up at Bucky’s name.

“Don’t make excuses for him. If you want to apologize, take responsibility for what you’ve done. Or not done. On. Your. Own.”

You sat on the ground and opened up your suitcase. Steve watched you as you started to unpack, thoughtful.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t punch him in the mouth to shut the jerk up.”

You just shook your head, refusing to smile, even though you thought about it.

“And I am so very sorry for lying to you. No matter what the reason. I should not have done that.”

You looked up at him and you could see Steve’s adam’s apple bob in his throat multiple times. His nervous tell. But you continued to look him in the eye.

“You were right to react the way you did. And you’re right to want to be as far away from u- me as you want to be. I’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to me and it was entirely my fault.”

You had to break eye contact then. You didn’t want to cave. You turned the sweater you were folding over and over in your hands. You could hear Steve take a deep breath.

“I just want–”

He cleared his throat again.

“Shit, I want a lot of things, Sugar, but I hope we can be cordial, friends even? We used to be friends. We're in a new city, a new country, a new continent. We can have a lot of fun together.”

You looked back up at him.

“Like we used to?”

“A lot has happened since ‘we used to,’ Steven.”

His shoulders slumped.

“Well, I will stay out of your way.”

He turned around to get out of your space and you felt a pang of some kind of emotion that you did not want to name.

“Hey.”

Steve stopped and turned around, his face guarded.

“I’ve been on a plane for an entire day, and I just want breakfast even though it’s 4pm here. I think I’m hangry. Let me think about it.” That smile. Oh, if you still had a heart, he might do something to it.

“I think I saw some eggs and American breakfast fixins in the fridge. I’ll make you an omelet.”

Steve knew you were a slut for breakfast. Among other things.

—--

After eating and chatting, you conceded that you did want a shopping partner; you planned to hit up all the thrift stores and you wanted someone to take day trips with on the weekend. You decided on a truce. It may have been food induced, but you thought that you could set good boundaries with Steve, so you lay down some ground rules.

Steve agreed to everything you said.

After trying to stay up as long as you could, you were ready to turn in for the night. You had a couple of days before you needed to report to the lab, so you and Steve decided to explore your neighborhood and maybe do some touristy things, since Tokyo Tower and the Asahi brewery were right outside your window.

And then it happened.

You were minding your own business after your shower, in your thin cotton tank and sleep shorts, going to the kitchen to fill your water bottle. Suddenly, the hallway door opened and you ran into Steve coming out of the bathroom, naked except for a towel slung low on his waist and beads of water running down the planes of his extremely well made torso.

He almost ran into you.

“Oh, shit Sugar, I’m sorry….”

You’d stopped short and were staring at his left pectoral. There was new ink on the golden boy’s body.

And you couldn’t believe it.

Among the beads of water diving down his body to disappear under the towel, because why wouldn’t they, there was a chemical formula. And you couldn’t believe which one it was.

“How long have you had that?”

You were staring, and your hand reached out to touch it, but you pulled back before you made contact. You looked up into his eyes and then back down at the tattoo because you didn’t want to drown in his eyes like you used to.

But it seemed kind of inevitable now.

Sometime in the six months that you’d been broken up, Steve had gotten the compound for simple sugar tattooed on his body, (CH2O)x

“Sugar–”

“How long?”

You whispered it. And then dove into the blue depths of his eyes again.

“Two weeks after we broke up.”

His voice was impossibly deep, and threatened to reach places that you wanted to be unreachable. But you didn’t ask why.

“What was the thought process behind that decision, Steve?”

You didn’t ask why. But you needed to know the reason.

“Because it’s pretty simple, Sugar. You just wanted honesty. And if I had been honest, maybe we’d still be together. So I got this tattoo to remind myself that this is all I have left of the girl I loved the most. So maybe when I fall in love again, I won’t be such an idiot.”

“Wow.”

You reached out again and touched the tattoo. It had been right over his heart, without you knowing, for the better part of half a year.

Steve’s eyes stuttered closed and he drew in a sharp breath when you touched him.

“Sugar. You gotta know how…

You shook your head, blown away and rocked by what he said. Mostly the “when I fall in love again” part. You don’t know why that phrase echoed around your head.

“I’ve got to tell it all. Sugar, I thought in the back of my head that if you knew Bucky was hurt, that you’d go back to him.”

You closed your eyes, not wanting to sympathize with this grown ass man who lied to you so hard about someone you both loved, but you understood.

“So I lied, partly because he asked me to. But mostly because I was trying to keep you to myself.”

You sagged against the wall, still touching him, fingers grazing the mark that he’d made on his body for you. Steve followed you, not wanting the contact to end, and stood before you in the narrow hallway, naked except for a towel. He was closer than you’d allowed him to be in a while.

Finally, you looked up at him.

“You’re right, It is simple. I just wanted honesty. I wouldn’t have abandoned you for Bucky, Steve.”

Steve moved impossibly closer as his eyes flicked down your body. You remembered he had it memorized. Your chemistry was amazing. Not just the formula tattooed on his skin, but the draw of you to him, and him to you. You weren’t over that.

But you wanted to be.

One of Steve’s hands was on his towel, and the other was above your head. You were looking up at him and he down at you, and it was the perfect moment to kiss. But he didn’t make another move. You looked down and noticed that his towel had changed shape.

“Sugar…”

You looked him in the eyes again. It was all up to you.Your breathing was erratic and your panties were damp. Reaching up, you put your hands up on his pecs again.

This time to push him back.

“I think we need some rest.”

Steve backed up, toward his bedroom.

“Right. We need…”

Your need was mighty. But you weren’t giving in. You took a deep breath.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, Sugar.”

—-

You breathed a sigh of relief at your narrow escape and went in the kitchen to drink water and cool down. You mindlessly scrolled your phone for a few minutes and decided that you were calm enough to go to sleep. You glanced at Steve’s door as you opened yours, and you just had to stop.

His door was cracked just enough so you could see Steve sprawled on his bed, towel still on, still tented, and he was scrolling on his phone. He looked delicious, from the tattoo on his pec to his tiny tan nipples to his amazing abs and the trail of hair pointing to the large cock that you had memorized, and which was standing at attention under his towel.

He looked good enough to eat. And you had plenty of times. But those days were over.

You bit your lip as he rubbed his erection over the towel, and moved closer as he groaned a little bit.

Was he looking at porn?

You totally understood his frustration after what happened, and he was in the privacy of his own room, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You felt guilty but you continued to watch him touch himself.

And as you wanted to touch yourself.

You stared at his open door as suddenly, the towel came off, and he was naked, and stunningly aroused, his face pure lust.

Steve Roger’s cock was gorgeous.

Your memories were nothing like the reality of him, thick and curved against his abs. He gripped the shaft, stroking it. Your hands found one of your nipples in the now-dark hallway, imagining kneeling for him.

You dreamed of his cock in your mouth and could practically feel yourself swirling tongue over his head and worshiping him as he told you what to do. The sensation him deep in your throat and letting him use it took over you.

You pinched your nipple tighter as he casually jerked himself off. You felt dirty, thinking how he’d feel knowing that you were watching him like this.

Would he be mad?

Or…

Stifling a whimper, you slid a hand into your shorts, smearing your wetness over your clit to trace fast, tight circles there. You hadn’t had anyone but electronic lovers and plastic since you broke up with Steve. And here he was, giving you a show.

You needed to see it. You wanted to see Steve cum, erupt, spill over his large, veiny hand, cream all over those abs. You moaned slightly as you imagined sucking it off those places.

His hand blurred on his shaft. Your clit hardened as you remembered his thick dick penetrating you, him fucking you well, calling you beautiful…

“Christ, Sugar, make me so hard. Take me so well. Cum with me Sweetheart…”

You were almost there and suddenly, Steve stopped. He got up, let go of his dick, walked to the light switch, give yon a look, and then plunged the room into darkness.

Then he closed the door.

You practically jumped into your room, pacing, shocked and excited, thoughts in a jumble.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your shorts.

It was a text from Steve.

“If you want more, just open my door. It’s unlocked. You can have anything you want. I want you. What do you want, Sugar?”

You are propelled into the hallway, to his door, hesitating only a moment. You’re just going to talk to him. Apologize. Tell him you would never do it again.

You were in his room now and the Tokyo moon cast shadows over his sleek torso. He was covered by the comforter, but you knew he was still hard.

“I always loved you in just tank tops. Those nipples are just begging to be sucked.”

His deep baritone made you launch yourself toward him. Steve caught you in his arms, both of you bouncing on the bed from the impact.

“What it’s gonna be, Sugar? What do you want?”

You are taking his hands and molding them to your breasts, throwing the covers off and straddling his thighs. You pulled your shorts and panties to the side so you could feel the slide and ridge of his cock catch on your clit as you slipped over him.

It felt electric.

“I want you Steve. Fuck it all. I want you.”

You’ve lost your mind. You’re creaming on his dick as his big, strong arms held you steady and you humped him like a mad woman.

“Fuck, it’s been so fucking difficult being hard as a rock all day working next to you in the lab, you ignoring me, and then not being able to get it up for anyone else…”

You were irrationally angry.

“Mine.”

You grabbed Steve’s cock and moved your thighs, lifting up and pushing his fat head into your cunt. You glared at him as you slowly sunk down on him, his thick shaft slowly opening you up.

It hurt so good.

Your head lolled back on your neck as Steve pulled your tank top down and started brutally sucking your nipples.

“Fuck yeah, it’s yours. Fit me like a fucking glove.”

Steve held you down for a few seconds as he pushed up into you as if he was going to lock on on his cock, then he lifted you up by your waist and started pounding you from beneath.

He stared up at you in the moonlight and you could feel his cock jump inside you.

“Didn’t matter what I did, who it was. Couldn’t fuck anyone else. Had to come home and pull up pictures of you.”

Steve was moving you now, just like a fleshlight, thumb at your clit.

“I’m about to fucking bust, and you better fucking cum around my cock before I do. Been too godamn long, Sugar.”

You moaned erotically at the thought of Steve impotent with everyone else but you.

He groaned in response and squeezed your nipple brutally. You quaked with your orgasm and Steve erupted mid pump, his spend spurting out as he moved in and out of you.

“Fuuuuu-uuuck!”

You collapsed backward on the bed as Steve continued to pump, impossibly still hard even after he came. You reached down into the copious wetness and circled your clit, wanting to prolong the sensation, and Steve groaned/laughed as you convulsed around him again.

You were a tangle of limbs, fluid, sweat and wet cloth as you came down.

Steve pulled you up, you got out of his bed and walked back to your bedroom, turning on the shower.

As you climbed into your bed, Steve was already there, re-showered himself. You fell asleep in Asakusa, Tokyo, Japan, tracing his tattoo, and wondering if it really was that simple, Sugar.

——

Did you like it? Let me know!

Next part soon. 😮‍💨

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randomshyperson · 1 year ago

Text

Another Love II - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Being late doesn’t always mean you lost your chance. Wanda might not be yours now, but if there’s something an Eternal can do is wait. | Chapter Summary: Finally, the wait is over.

Warnings: (+16) unrequired love, hints of mutual (?) pining; mild angst with happy ending, friends/team partners, canon divergence, fluff, some tension, language. | Words: 5.051k

Part One || General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

-&-

Wanda has only been to London on business before, both for the Avengers and the Coven. It's refreshing in a way, just being a tourist, even if only for the short train ride to the National History Museum.

It was Sersei who revealed to her where you were working. For some reason, and to annoy Wanda's nerves, you were much more distant lately both physically and emotionally than she would have liked.

The place was crowded and perhaps Wanda used a little magic to avoid being recognized by any of the Avengers' fanbase, making her way unhurriedly to the reception desk.

She could trace your aura easily but was cordial in introducing herself and following the instructions of where your class was taking place.

Through glass windows, she saw you for the first time in months, and couldn't help a soft sigh escape her lips. With her hands held in her coat pockets in an attempt to have some sort of ground, she approached through the open door at the back of the room.

Your monologue about Mesopotamian constructions was lost in mid-sentence as soon as your eyes met hers. Wanda smiles shyly, and you stand there, adorably surprised.

The teenagers present in the class soon assumed curious expressions at the interruption of your speech, and it was one of the boys in the back who looked between you and Wanda before loudly teasing, "Damn, Professor just got tongue-tied because of the Scarlet Witch!"

The room exploded into giggles, and you blushed awkwardly, eventually chuckling too as you waved for them to calm down. Wanda smiles coyly at the scene, waiting for you to approach her.

"Thank you for this, Mr.Matthews." You say to the student, nodding to the board. "Finish reviewing the chapter, please. I'll be back in five minutes, no fuss, don't you all forget you're in a Museum."

You walked over to Wanda, and she tried not to show how she trembled at the gentle touch on her elbow to guide her to the coffee table area, but she didn't do such a good job when you were finally alone outside and you hugged her in greeting.

"It's good to see you, darling." You said, pulling away to hold her shoulders for a moment. Your gentle and tender smile and eyes made her feel warm. "I didn't know you were coming to see me. Nothing wrong happened, I hope?" You asked frowning in concern, but Wanda quickly denied it, offering you a reassuring smile.

"No, I just... I wanted to talk to you. And see you." She confesses with a weak laugh. "Can we go out for coffee after your class?"

"Of course, Wanda. It will be over in a few minutes, you can enjoy the exhibition in the meantime." You say, biting your lip when it looks like you're going to say something else. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding, and you take a chance. "You look breathtaking, sweetheart."

She can feel her face heat up, but she handles smiling in appreciation. "You don't look bad yourself, Professor." She teases with a wink, managing to make you chuckle awkwardly.

You touch her again, squeezing her arm in farewell before heading back to the classroom, and Wanda thinks she replays the feeling in her head the whole way back to the exhibit.

She is facing an exhibit of Ancient Greece when she senses your presence behind her.

"How many of these artists have you met in person?" She asks interested, and you let out a small laugh.

"Not as many as I would like I'm afraid." You reply with a slight nostalgic sigh. "But I did meet Σαπφώ (Sapphō). She was a rather passionate lover."

Wanda snorts incredulously, patting you on the shoulder in indignation. "Oh my god, you slept with her?"

You shrug, laughing softly and raising a finger in front of your lips in a sign of secrecy. "Kérkolas, her husband, must be cursing me from the afterlife right now." You joke managing a chuckle from Wanda.

There is a moment of tender silence between the two of you, the long-time complicity of a long-missed friendship where you just stare at some of the displays around, walking side to side with each other.

It is amidst one of the statues of Ancient Greece that your gazes meet again and no longer waver away. Wanda sighs and you nod towards the exit, she doesn't even need to think for her feet to start moving on instinct, following you wherever you want.

It is to a closed office that you take her, closing the door as soon as she enters.

Wanda swallows dryly at the gesture of helping her remove her coat, placing it on the support as she moves further into the room.

"Can I get you something to drink?" You ask working on the buttons of the sleeves of the social shirt you are wearing so Wanda understands that you are indeed going to prepare something for her.

"Hm, sure, you can surprise me." She murmurs, and you offer her a mischievous little smile before walking toward the small bar at the corner of the office.

"Not that I'm not happy about your visit, darling, but I'm getting curious as to why." You comment and Wanda sighs deeply in the center of the room, trying to build up the courage. She keeps her gaze on the tall windows that illuminate the room and doesn't face you when she finally speaks.

"I'm getting a divorce."

You stop the motion of cutting a lemon and raise your eyes to her, your frown frowning in surprise. "Oh. I... I'm sorry to hear that."

She chuckles softly, staring at you. "No, you don't."

"Yeah, I don't." You respond without hesitation, turning your attention back to the lemon. "Not for him, of course. Even though it bothers me that you're unhappy."

Wanda sighs, watching you prepare two drinks that honestly look delightful. "I'm not unhappy, Y/N." She retorts and you hum in a sign that you are listening. "I guess it was only inevitable."

"You're being a little hard on yourself." You comment with a tiny smile, finally holding two cups in hand, of which one you bring to her. "Tell me what happened."

She nods in thanks for the drink, and you raise an eyebrow as she turns the glass over in one gulp, chuckling dryly at the scene. Wanda grunts softly.

"Shit, that was good." She compliments the drink, and you smile as you see her staring at your cup as well. Without saying anything, you also hand her yours and take the empty one away. At least the second, Wanda tries to enjoy it more. After a sip, she sighs and begins to explain: "Vision took your advice. A little after the honeymoon, he went to visit Shuri. I think Makkari was with them. They talked about the safety of the stone and he decided to do the splitting in Wakanda." She counters breaking into a forced laugh. "And apparently without the stone, he runs out of love for me too."

You swallow dryly at the hurt expression on her face and raise your hand to take the cup away, slowly so as not to startle her. Wanda sniffles and you sigh.

"I'm sorry about the end of your marriage."

She huffs. "No, you don't."

"I never wanted you unhappy, you know that." You insist firmly on her watery eyes. "And if his love lingered to a magic stone, you know it was good to find out about this early. It's less painful this way."

Wanda huffs angrily, taking a step forward. "How dare you, honestly?" She demands bitterly, but you don't flinch in your attitude. "You have ruined my marriage. I should... I..."

You raised a brow, waiting, but Wanda grunted and walked away, hiding her face in her hands.

Hearing her cry finally breaks your posture, but you dare not touch her yet.

"I really thought I could be happy with him." She confesses low and vulnerable and you sigh. "How could I be so stupid?"

You move closer, circling her until Wanda can see you again. Your hands find her cheeks and she wants to hate the way her skin warms over your touch, but she can't even be angry about it.

"You haven't done anything wrong, my love." You whisper tenderly, wiping her cheeks with your thumbs. "You are so majestic, Wanda Maximoff. You deserve someone better, you've always deserved more than a machine. I could-"

Wanda pushes you by the shoulders, and you shut up at the fury in her red irises.

"I'll never forgive you for interfering, you had no right!" That's the last thing she says to you before turning her back and leaving.

The drinking cup ends up on the wall with a throw, and half the items off your table as well. Wanda's coat is forgotten in your office for weeks until you leave this job too.

She won't answer your calls anymore.

-&-

There is a cold breeze passing through Massachusetts that makes Wanda shiver in her armchair. She gets up to close the windows and curtains, and her office is less bright than before with the action.

Candles are lit by themselves as she makes her way to her armchair again. On her desk are several documents to be reviewed: some are magical contracts on parchment because witches have quirks they refuse to lose, and others are printouts as one would expect to exist in the 21st century, some contain the symbol of the Avengers, others of the Kamar Taj.

A knock on the door followed by its opening makes Wanda raise her eyes.

"There's mail for you, Maximoff." Agatha announces with a sneer, tossing the items she holds into the air - which float toward Wanda's desk. "They might be late, no one checks the mailbox in this place."

It's Wanda's turn to grimace. "Thanks, Agatha." She retorts wryly, picking up the cards as soon as they reach them. Her stomach does a complete turn when she reads the name, and it doesn't get any better when she reads the date. "What the...? Agatha, by god, some of these are months old!"

The older witch shrugs her shoulders, approaching Wanda's table unceremoniously. As the younger one opens the older letter, Agatha wastes no time in checking the newer ones, ignoring Wanda's slap of protest about this.

"Hmm, love letters, how sweet." Ironizes the witch as soon as she opens one, and laughs when Wanda grabs the item from her hand with a tug, the warning does not look very effective on account of her pink cheeks. "It's from Miss Immortal, I imagine."

"That's none of your business." Wanda retorts, turning her attention to one of the old correspondences from one of the Coven contacts that everyone thought had given up on making a deal, but apparently had just been ignored by the witch mail.

Agatha chuckles lightly. "You know you can't ignore your girlfriend forever."

Wanda huffs impatiently. "She's not my girlfriend! She's nothing really. Just go mind your own business, will you? I'm working."

But Agatha ignores the request, leaning on the table to steal the letter back and fleeing from Wanda's hands before the woman can reach her.

"Please, Wanda, please forgive me. I never had any intent to hurt you in any way or cause you any pain-" The reading is interrupted when Wanda's magic does the work of snatching the letter from the other witch's hand, who falls into laughter. "Wow, you’re pissed off enough to rip an apology letter. What did she do, cheat on you?"

Wanda huffs impatiently. "For the last time, she's not my girlfriend!" But Agatha only giggles at the outburst, which makes Wanda sigh impatiently. "We were friends, and she...is the reason for my divorce."

"Hmm, spill the tea." Agatha makes mention of sitting down in one of the armchairs but Wanda rolls her eyes.

"Stop it, I'm busy." Grumbles the witch. "Thanks to you I just earned months of late work."

"No way, it's not my fault that most supernatural creatures don't trust the internet." Agatha retorts as she throws herself on one of the couches. "Every Winter Solstice is a real hell, with so many wolves on the loose and the council bothering us with the safety of mortals..."

Wanda sighs. "Agatha, I'm busy." She repeats, receiving a roll of her eyes in return as the other begrudgingly stands up.

"You know what, Maximoff? You need to get laid." Declares the other causing Wanda to choke in indignation, her ears burning. " Yes, you heard me! You've been a nervous wreck since you took over the leadership of the coven! You don't leave this office for anything and stay working all day, not even joining our festivities! And all this time you have a hot immortal sending you sex letters? It's truly absurd that you're still here." In complete shock, Wanda stares at her. Agatha grins at her expression. "My mortal years were the most fun, you should enjoy them as well. You are the Scarlet Witch, Wanda. One of the most powerful cosmic entities in the multiverse, you are going to have many centuries to focus on work, but your mortal life is only one. You should pay her a visit."

Wanda sighs in defeat, nodding in concordance after a moment. Agatha smiles in victory, and while the other searches for her cell phone, she risks spying on other letters.

"I have to admit that she sounds a lot less terrifying in these passages." Agatha comments as she reads again, ignoring Wanda's protest and continuing to talk. "She scared the girls off when she was here last year, and I heard stories about her strength. But reading this, I think she's just a simp." Jokes the brunette but Wanda doesn't laugh, looking at her with a frown of curiosity.

"She was here last year?"

Agatha snorts through her nose. "Of course, she was, silly." Replies the witch as if it's obvious. "She came as a diplomatic action between her people and ours, full of questions and agreements. It started out well, but you know how witches are. And in general, we don't trust strangers. It ended with her intimidating anyone who threatened to harm you, I believe."

Wanda felt her face warm and stared at Agatha in disbelief. "She... was here for me?"

The other chuckled again. "By all the holy ones, Maximoff, you are impossible! Where do you think I got the impression you two were a couple from?

Wanda opens her mouth but doesn't know exactly what to say. She babbles something about being married at the time and Agatha laughs in disbelief. "Please, as if a piece of paper means anything to someone like her." Ironizes the older witch. "Especially the union with a microwave." She mutters the last part, but Wanda listens, grimacing.

"Don't talk about him like that. I loved Vision truly." Wanda says but that only brings a glint to Agatha's eyes.

"Hm, ‘past tense’? I think the Immortal one has a chance..." The witch fell into laughter as Wanda tried to hit her with an energy ball, ducking just in time. "Listen to someone who has lived as long as I have. You need to get laid."

"Agatha I swear to god I will use violence-"

But the older witch raises her hands in surrender and finally leaves the room, laughing all the way out and down the hall.

Wanda sighs at the empty room, the cell phone that has been turned off for weeks in her hand.

She can do this, she repeats to herself. It doesn't have to be weird. She can call you and ask you for a drink and it doesn't have to be anything more than that. You have been friends before.

“This number is offline or out of range, please try again later or leave a message after the tone-”

With a frustrated grunt at the fourth attempt to make contact, Wanda returned the cell phone to her pocket and marched determinedly out of the room. She wouldn't be stopped by technology from finding you, not a chance. If Agatha didn't know how to help, two speedsters probably would.

-&-

The loud music almost made her turn around. It was a generic but addictive electronica, and it was so blasting from the speakers that even before she stepped through the portal she opened to get there, Wanda could already hear the noise that the vast majority of the neighbors in the area of that Spanish nightclub could as well.

Makkari was courteous enough to tell her where you were last seen, going so far as to joke that if Wanda couldn't find you at this party, she should try the next bars down the street. Wanda couldn't laugh at the joke, her stomach suddenly wracked with strange guilt as she heard stories about how your last few months had been spent on intense partying that wasn't at all typical of your behavior, and that had a lot to do with a fight you haven't told any of your friends about, but which Wanda remembered every detail of as if it were yesterday. Makkari tried to comfort her, saying that every Eternal has their period of dissatisfaction with immortality and that parties are a good distraction, but it didn't help to know that not even her best friends were sure of your current location or state of health.

Wanda tried to be positive about the reunion, but as soon as she entered the crowded nightclub, and with the help of some basic telekinesis, she reached a VIP area with clearly magical people, she didn't feel much at ease. And there were you too, in all your melancholy glory sitting on a leather couch watching a gambling game with two beautiful girls practically sitting on your lap.

A security guard made mention of stopping her entrance, but red irises stared at him for half a second and it was enough for him to make room for her to pass instead.

She noticed your lazy eyes, dilated pupils, and easy smile, and hated the hand on the thigh of the girl on the right as if she were suffering the greatest of betrayals. Wanda knew she had no right to feel this way, having been the one to fight with you, to blame you for the end of her marriage, and to have ignored all your attempts to apologize, but this is exactly the way she does feel.

You lean in, whispering something dirty enough in the girl's ear to make her blush and close her legs, and Wanda loses patience.

"Makkari was right. You truly hit rock bottom." She mocks in a tone loud enough to be heard throughout the entire backstage, the music slightly muffled by the walls in the rest of the club. All eyes turn curiously to her, but yours are the ones she's looking for, and they take almost a full moment to focus. Your relaxed posture doesn't change, but your smile fades.

"Look who decided to show up." You returned with a certain coolness that made Wanda swallow dryly. "Greetings to the legendary Scarlet Witch."

Each individual in the room turns their face and greets her at the same second, the hypnotized chorus of 'Hello, Wanda' makes an eerie shiver run through her entire body. She doesn't have time to create any theories about the whole scene, because out of a curtain in the background comes a figure she doesn't know as well as the other Eternals.

Druig's presence is a complete surprise to her. Wanda remembers well all the disagreements you two have had and the stories she has heard about the past. So finding that Eternal in a fancy, expensive suit, controlling an entire nightclub by your side is not exactly a predictable situation.

"Wanda Maximoff, what an honor to meet you again." He comments as he moves closer to kiss her hand, taking on old customs with natural ease. His hand remained holding her for a full moment, and Wanda understood it to be a warning. The attitude made her blood boil. But when Druig turned his attention back to you, he was smiling. "You didn't tell me old friends would be visiting you, sister."

You locked your jaw. "Don't call me that, Druig." Was your warning, detaching yourself from the grip of the girls beside you without any trouble to get up. "And stop trying to scare Wanda. You wouldn't stand a chance with her. Nor with me, brother."

A wicked smile played on the man's lips, but he remained with his hands behind his back and nodded in understanding to your statement. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda and it was enough for her to follow you to what looked like a balcony of the chamber, which provided a view of the magnificent capital of Barcelona.

As soon as Wanda was beside you at the edge, you gestured back, creating a transparent wall in the doorway to prevent snooping. She recognized the privacy spell and kept to herself the realization of how cold and twitchy your magic felt, very different from the last time she felt your presence at the university in London.

"Why are you here, Wanda?" You asked her immediately, with no patience for small talk.

"I called." She returned without caring about the aggressiveness, her hands clasped tightly inside her pockets, seeking some warmth in her own jacket to protect herself from the cold night. Not so long ago, you would have wasted no time in offering her a scarf, or taking any action to warm her, and the lack of friendliness and nurturance made her shiver more than the cold. "Makkari said-"

"I can deduce exactly what she said, thank you." You cut her off with a certain impatience. You didn't keep your gaze, rummaging through your pockets for something until you pulled out of your jacket a silver bottle marked with the Asgard symbol. Thor had one of those, and Wanda knew immediately that it was a traditional drink. The way your fingers were trembling made her understand that this would not be the first sip of either Asgardian liquor or an earthly drink.

"I wish you were sober for this conversation."

You chuckled, short and ironic still with your gaze on the bottle you were opening. Your laughter lingered during the big gulp you took, and when you looked at her again, you commented, "You were always funny, Maximoff. Truly enjoyable company." Your gaze faded to the landscape, nostalgic and hurt, and Wanda sighed.

"I didn't come here to fight with you, Y/N." She tried again, though dissatisfied with your distant posture, still determined to set things straight. "But I was surprised to find you so..."

"Miserable?" You complete for her with a weak laugh, still looking out over the city. Wanda swallows dryly, and you sigh. "Don't martyr yourself. No matter how devastating the broken heart feels, it always heals."

"I'm sorry." She declares softly. "I never meant to hurt you."

You clear your throat, pulling away a little to look at her, and with the posture you assume, Wanda almost feels physical walls between you.

"You didn't come to Barcelona for an apology, Maximoff. What happened? Is it something with work?" Your frown is gently worried, but the insinuation irritates her.

"Do you really think I wouldn't talk to you for so long just to show up asking for work favors?" She retorts but you don't flinch.

"I don't think anything, Wanda." You retort indifferently. "I've stopped having expectations of you, or anyone else. That way I avoid being disappointed."

"Is this you or Druig talking?" She challenges, and instead of hitting a nerve, you smile.

You bring the flask closer to your lips, and whisper, "Always too quick for me, clever girl." before drinking and accomplishing a small smile from her.

"I mean it, Y/N." Wanda insists, though softer than before. "I want to apologize for the last time we saw each other. I shouldn't have blamed you for the end of my marriage, nor put down your attempts to fix things between us."

You study her face for a moment, finding only sincerity in her eyes. Then you sigh, and finish all the liquid in the bottle in one gulp. Wanda opens her mouth to say something, but you interrupt her.

"When was the last time you had fun, Scarlet Witch?"

She frowns, hesitantly. "I'm really not in the mood-"

But you grabbed her hand, grinning. "Don't be boring, Maximoff. We were friends before any of the drama. Come, I'll show you how the Spanish celebrate life."

Since becoming the Scarlet Witch, Wanda had gotten better with crowds because of her job. Still, it was a little hard to be inserted into a fair of bodies squeezed inside a lounge with vibrant colors and loud music. And your hand pulling her close, spinning her around as your body moved against hers to the synchronized beat wasn't helping her nerves at all.

But eventually, Wanda felt all the tension dissipate within the songs - only to be replaced by an equally suffocating feeling. Your hands roamed over her body as your hips slammed together and Wanda found herself unable to think of anything else but you.

She spun again, one last time before you grew tired of ignoring your own will, and grabbed her face, your mouth against hers.

Wanda choked on her own breath, and the world stopped for a whole moment. All the sounds, and all the people around just disappeared. You kissed her and that was all that mattered in that second.

But you let go before she could respond the way she wanted to, and the look on your face made her swallow dry.

"What's wrong?" She whispered half breathlessly against your lips.

Your hand was warm against her cheek, and when you moved it away, Wanda almost let out an audible protest at the lack, her body practically tumbling towards you, begging for your touch.

You shook your head in the negative, turning and moving further into the crowd and Wanda almost lost sight of you.

The people around seemed to hinder her path to you, but a glimpse of the red glows and the hall cleared a path for the witch. If Wanda began to use her powers with more confidence now, Agatha Harkness had a strong influence on it.

You went outside the nightclub, and Wanda realized you must have spent some time dancing because the street was much emptier than before.

With a hand on your chest, your breathing labored and your shoulders tense, Wanda realized you looked like you were on the verge of a panic attack.

"Hey, darling, talk to me-" She reached up trying to touch your wrist but you pulled away. Your back was turned so far but when you turned around, Wanda saw that your eyes were filled with tears.

"Don't you dare." You raise a finger towards her, gasping and emotional. Then she falls silent immediately, gulping dryly at the fury in your gaze. "You don't... have the right, okay? You just can't."

She sighs, taking a step forward. "You're the one who kissed me."

You chuckle in disbelief, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Fuck you, Wanda."

"How classy." She sneers to which you only shake your head.

"You did this to me." You retort determinedly, gesturing to yourself. "Look at me, Wanda! I'm a mess! I'm sick! You've carved your way into my heart, and I can't live without you! Do you even realize what you've done? Do you even care?"

Heart racing, Wanda opens her mouth but the intensity of the confessions has left her speechless. She has no chance to speak, however, because you continue.

"Seven thousand years I've been on this earth, and I've never felt like this. Who gave you the right? I'm not made for it, I don't know how to... deal with it. This pain, this lack. The longing... I can't do it, Wanda." You gasp. "I was fine without you! I was working, sticking to my mission. And then you came along and ruined me for good!" Your hand pulled her close again, your forehead resting against hers. Wanda waited and waited for a kiss that never came. Instead, you held her hands against your chest. "Take your love away, Wanda. I don't know where to put it if I can't dedicate it to you."

She smiled tearfully, brushing their noses together. "I haven't lived that long, but I will, my darling. And I want it spent with you." She whispered, holding on tighter as you look at her doubtfully. "I will only take your love with me if I can leave mine with you."

"Wanda-"

"Stop babbling and kiss me for once, you drunken fool." She cuts you off, and you don't waste another second.

You think all those centuries were worth it for this moment. Wanda kisses and kisses you, and can't believe she resisted this for so long. That she dared to marry another when she could have had this.

You let out an audible moan as she sucked your tongue and she was grateful for your hands around her waist, for she would have slipped to the floor.

When you broke apart, panting and flushed, you stood with your faces very close together.

"You should have married me." It is the first thing you say, and it draws a hearty, husky laugh from the other.

"There's still time, I suppose." She retorts, shy about the look of adoration she catches the next moment. She swallows dryly. " I'm sorry I hurt you before."

You shake your head quickly. "I hurt you first, I know. I should have told all the others to go to hell and run away with you when I had the chance."

She giggles, pleased that you recognize the past. Your mistakes too, not just hers. But none of that mattered anymore now, and she told you so.

You decided that enough had been said and that words could be left for tomorrow.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff oneshots #wanda maximoff

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buzzcutlip · 4 months ago

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Cracks and Gaps - The Waterfall (part II) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Mature (Explicit in the following parts) 6573 words

You meet Carmen in Copenhagen through a mutual friend and bond over shared experiences. After following his rising career from afar, you reconnect in Chicago when he renovates his late brother’s restaurant. As an editor, you can’t miss an opportunity to find out more about the comeback of this chef prodigy. part I The Worst Day

A/N: The angst continues and morphs. This part is full of fashion, understanding and soft words. Thank you Amy @foreveraimingtowardsthesky and E @butchcarmy for giving me the confidence to write and to publish this :) (Also reader is reffered to as someone who blushes, in case you would like to know this ahead of deciding to read the story)

THE WATERFALL

You want so badly to forget the fight, but instead, you keep replaying it in your head over and over, until it feels like a movie you saw on TV or in a cinema. Like it wasn't really you Carmen was shouting at. You try to comfort yourself by imagining what you should have done in that moment—anything but nothing, like you actually did. But at least you stood up for yourself. That’s somehow comforting.

The way forward is to go—to leave. To remove yourself from the situation and find a new environment that has nothing to do with what happened. For the weekend, you take a long-postponed trip to Seattle. People envy you for traveling to fancy places for work, but to you, it’s just that—work. This time, though, you’re unusually eager to get on the plane to another state. Nothing in Washington is going to remind you of Carmen Berzatto, you hope. The plan is to try a luxury wellness retreat for women in tech and business at Salish Lodge by Snoqualmie Falls. You’re not in tech or business, but the place paid the magazine to review the program, so you couldn’t really say no. There’s a "pillow menu for the best night’s rest" and a "Canna-bliss CBD natural ritual" option, so you’re not complaining. To escape the busy networking event on Saturday, you sneak out and walk to the top of the falls, take a deep inhale—just as you practiced during that morning's yoga class—and shout into the void, letting the roar of the water swallow it all.

There’s so much pent-up energy in you that you start to worry you’re scaring all the Zen businesswomen around you. During a workshop, you realize that most of them are your age, or even younger. They have careers, partners, and some even have kids. It sucks, being reminded of what society expects from you when you’re thirty.

When you get back on Tuesday, the office clerk tells you that someone was looking for you on Monday. Not thinking much of it, you sit down at your desk to start working on your piece about the trip. It’s scorching outside—concrete city in July is unforgiving—and you’re grateful for the office's functioning AC.

The next time you check the clock, it’s already noon. You stand up to stretch and grab the empty mug on your desk. It was a silly gift from your parents when you first got this job—white with a black handle and a funny picture of a green pickle with a face that says "It’s kinda a big dill." As foolish as it sounds, drinking coffee from this mug always makes you smile.

As soon as you step out of your office, Dasha, the desk clerk, waves you over. Even sitting, she’s tall, her head and upper body towering proudly over the counter. She always wears amazing glasses.

“I love your glasses,” you say, complimenting her tortoiseshell frames.

“Thanks,” Dasha smiles. “You have a visitor. I was just about to call your desk.”

The blood in your veins seems to stop. You turn your head toward the guest sofa by the elevators. There’s no doubt who the visitor is.

“He said his name was Caramel—Carmel? Sorry!” Dasha fumbles with the name, blushing and nervously fiddling with her pen. “I should’ve written it down!”

Of course, it’s Carmen.

“You’re fine,” you assure her with a quick smile. Taking a very, very deep breath, you ask sweetly, “Could you send Caramel to meeting room three?”

‘I’m so Zen,’ you tell yourself as you walk to the kitchen, giving Dasha and Carmen a few minutes. If you’re going to meet him, it’s going to be on your terms, you decide standing by the fridge. Or, hiding by the fridge?

Wearing a summery yet elegant dress, heeled clogs, and your hair up, you look nothing like you ever did at The Bear. You’re pleased to discover, just before opening the door to meeting room three, that the tight feeling in your stomach isn’t just nerves—it’s also a bit of excitement and confidence.

The frosted glass door closes behind you, and you watch as Carmen’s eyes land on you. He’s already seated in one of the uncomfortable white plastic chairs, and now he’s looking at you. His gaze drops to your legs, where the frilled hem of your dress stops just above your knees, then to the mug you’re still holding, though it’s empty.

“Hey,” he greets you, shifting as if he might stand up. You sit across from him, setting the mug on the table.

“Hi,” you reply, curious about what he’s going to say. You’re fairly sure he’s here to apologize, probably sent by Natalie and Sydney—maybe even Richie—to make things right. You had texted Natalie to say you needed to focus on your "real" job as an excuse to avoid going back to the restaurant. Now, you wish you had told her the truth.

“I brought you something,” Carmen says, awkwardly pulling out a paper bag. “Thought you might be hungry.” He hesitates, then adds, “It’s smoked mozzarella mezzelune.” When you don’t make a move to take it, he places the bag back in his lap.

Leaning back in your chair, you fight the urge to cross your arms. You probably feel as out of place as he does right now—but you’re not about to let him see that.

“We didn’t have to meet here,” he says, glancing nervously around the room. “I just wanted to bring the food.”

You blink a few times, wanting to make him even more uncomfortable. “You could’ve left it at reception,” you say calmly.

Carmen rubs a hand over his face and purses his lips. “About before—the recipe. It was all bullshit.”

You grimace. That doesn’t sound like an apology. You're starting to lose faith that Carmen is even capable of one. Disappointed and at a loss for words, you scoff, and Carmen’s eyes dart back to yours. He looks almost offended, which really pisses you off.

“Bullshit,” you repeat, your voice steady. “I’m not interested in this, Carmen,” you say, meeting his gaze without wavering. “Go to hell with your food.”

He looks down, fidgeting with the paper bag. “I’m terrible at this.”

“Terrible at what? Apologizing? Well, it’s past time you learned.”

The urge to shout at him is strong. You want him to feel as humiliated as you did. But you won’t. He spent his whole life in an environment where people yelled for different reasons—or no reason at all. That’s not your style.

Not expecting anything else from him, you push your chair back, the screeching noise cutting through the tense moment, sending a shiver down your spine.

When Carmen suddenly stands as well, his chair scraping even louder, your heart jumps. You gasp, nearly sick from the fright.

“I—I also came to tell you that I’ll do it,” he stammers. “I’ll do the interview.”

You study him for a moment. Is he serious?

“This isn’t what I want, Carmen,” you say, shaking your head and rubbing your wrist. “Why now?”

“I talked to Syd and the crew. It’s the right thing to do. Right for the restaurant.”

He’s sincere, as far as you can tell. His eyes look huge, and that tortured artist look is back. A martyr. How much does he enjoy playing that role?

“Please, don’t ruin my Zen,” you say quietly, not wanting to return to how you felt a few days ago.

“I’m not interested anymore,” you add, praying Rob won’t find out and fire you. “Dasha will see you out. Or you can take the elevator.” The condescension in your voice is clear, but you’re not sure if Carmen even notices.

—

For the next two days, you decide to work from home and mope. Calling Becky isn’t an option because she would probably go talk to Natalie and tell her everything. The feelings of anger and humiliation are mixing within you, and you don’t know which one makes you more miserable.

When you get back to work, Rob calls you over to his office. Shit, you think.

You walk in with a smile and confidence—fake it till you make it. The usual clutter of papers and magazines is still there, but Rob himself seems unusually animated, almost buzzing with excitement. He waves you in, barely able to contain a grin. “Take a seat,” he says, his tone a little too eager.

You sit down cautiously, trying to gauge what's coming. Rob leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, and you can see he’s practically bursting to share something. “So, I got a call this morning,” he starts, and you immediately feel a sense of dread creeping in. “It was from Natalie, the manager over at The Bear.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to stay composed. You nod, prompting him to continue. “She told me that Carmen Berzatto—yes, that Carmen—wants to do the interview and a photoshoot,” Rob says.

“A—a photoshoot?” you stammer. “Is this the same Carmen Berzatto?” God, you couldn’t imagine Carmen wanting to be a center of attention like that. He would probably die right on the spot.

Rob ignores your snarky remark—as he often does—leaning even closer, his excitement palpable. “And get this—he specifically requested that you be the one to do it.”

He pauses, waiting for your reaction, clearly expecting you to share in his enthusiasm. But all you feel is a mix of shock and apprehension. “Rob, I—” you start, but he cuts you off, too caught up in the moment.

“I mean, this is huge!” he exclaims, practically bouncing in his chair. “The Bear is blowing up, and an exclusive like this could improve all the important numbers for us. And he wants you—he’s insisting on it! Do you have any idea how big this could be for your career?”

You do, of course. An exclusive interview with Carmen could put you on the map in a major way. But all you can think about is that last encounter in the meeting room, the awkwardness, the unresolved tension, and the anger laced in bitterness you thought you had finally let go of. Rob notices your hesitation and softens his tone, though his excitement is still simmering beneath the surface. “Look, I know there’s some history here,” he says, a bit more gently. “But this is a massive opportunity. And honestly, if Carmen wants you specifically, there’s something there. He’s not the type to just pick someone randomly, right?”

You shake your head and swallow hard, your mind racing. The offer is tempting, the kind of opportunity that doesn’t come around often. But it also means facing Carmen again, reopening wounds you thought were starting to heal but ignoring the issue—the healthy way, you think bitterly. But also, you would need to contact Nat and Sydney again about your place in The Bear, which you’ve been putting on hold for a long time now, in internet terms.

Rob senses your inner turmoil and leans back, giving you some space. “I’m not going to pressure you, but I really think you should consider it. We could make this the cover story. It’s that big.”

The room is silent for a moment as Rob waits for your response, his eagerness practically vibrating off him. You’re absolutely sure that if you don’t agree to this project, Rob will ask another editor, or even hire a freelancer. As much as you want to be offended a bit longer, letting it simmer inside you, you also want to do this with The Bear staff. As Natalie must know—this is all her doing, after all, you suppose—the visibility for the restaurant is going to be huge.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Then, you make your decision. “I’ll do it,” you say, your voice firmer than you expected.

Rob’s face lights up instantly. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he exclaims, practically beaming. “I knew you’d come through. This is going to be incredible, I can feel it.”

His enthusiasm reassures you, and for a brief moment, you let yourself feel excited, too.

Rob starts rattling off details, already planning how to make this the magazine’s biggest feature yet. “We’ll do a full spread—interview, photoshoot, the works. We can even tie it into some of the broader trends in the culinary world. This could be huge!”

You nod, letting his words wash over you, but part of your mind is still focused on the impending meeting with Carmen. You pretty much sent him to hell. How will you handle this?

“Let’s get the ball rolling,” Rob says, snapping you back to the present. “I’ll coordinate with Natalie to set up the interview. We’ll get the photographer involved, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“Thanks, Rob,” you say, managing a small smile, not mentioning that you will get in touch with Natalie too. “I’ll make sure it’s worth the hype.”

“I have no doubt,” Rob replies confidently. “This is going to be something special.”

As you walk out of his office, the reality of what you just agreed to starts to settle in. You’re going to see Carmen again, face to face, in a setting that’s as personal as it is professional. It’s also a chance to prove to yourself that you can handle it—and maybe even come out stronger on the other side.

The nerves are still there, but so is a newfound resolve. This is your story to tell, and you’re ready to own it.

---

Naturally, you had to tone down your emotions in Rob’s office, as he didn’t know anything about your work you had done for The Bear or the situation with the chef himself. The need to show off your professional skills, both to Rob and Carmen, won. Natalie nearly pisses herself—her words, not yours!—when you confirm the news over the phone. She shares with you that it actually was Carmen’s idea to do the interview, supported by Sydney and Richie and Tina and everyone. The shoot not so much, but he’s gonna do it too, she says, and you can hear the mischievous smile in her voice.

The photoshoot is set to happen in a studio your magazine usually uses for smaller productions, as it’s only Carmen you need to get. Rob informed you that he had sent a photographer to The Bear earlier, so the photos from the place, as well as photos of the team, are already done. You know this from Natalie and Sydney already, who thanked you probably more than a million times for “arranging this,” but in front of Rob, you play guileless.

It’s awfully quiet in the room when you enter, the swinging door swooshing quietly behind you. No wonder. The shoot had to be planned on Sunday—the only day Carmen’s not at work, which has been met with not very enthusiastic responses. There’s no music playing, which is very unusual.

The studio has high ceilings and large windows that let in natural light. It obviously used to be a factory, now rebuilt into a fancy, modern building with that historic edge. You’ve been here a couple of times before.

You spot the photographer, Elena, adjusting her equipment with the precision of someone who knows exactly what she’s doing. She smiles at you and you give each other a quick hug. With a shoot this small, there’s no one doing production, as you’re using the magazine’s regular talents. As much as you want to stall, you know that Carmen must be sitting on the make-up chair, very probably freaking out. It’s a bit unpleasant, but the fact that he’s more uncomfortable than you here makes you feel better, helps you calm your nerves down. The situation is similar to the one in the office a few weeks back, and you realize it’s more your confidence than maliciousness.

Your steps echo as you walk around the corner to the make-up and hair spot by one of the big windows. Carmen’s just getting up from the high chair, his posture screaming uneasiness.

“Hi Margot,” you say to the make-up artist with a piercing in her eyebrow. She’s younger than you, so you get why she thinks that the 00’s are so cool, since that’s probably when she was born.

Then the spotlight is on Carmen and you, and it takes you both to the moment when you approached him outside of The Bear months ago.

Carmen stares at you without blinking, probably relieved to see a familiar face, and also terrified, because it’s you. It’s crystal clear he doesn’t know what is appropriate for him to do in this setting.

Deciding quickly, you move towards him, giving him a similar hug as to Elena—quick, light, and impersonal. When you feel his palm press against your lower back fleetingly, the touch immediately makes you shiver, unfortunately not completely in a bad way, but you don’t have the time to ponder.

“I’ve just fixed his hair a bit and covered some bits here and there,” Margot explains, already cleaning her brushes. You notice immediately that Carmen’s curls are more defined and softer looking. He also appears less tired, but that’s surely due to Margo’s concealer magic.

“Thank you, Margo, that’s perfect,” you say as Carmen stands unmoving.

“Carmen just needs to moisturize more,” she adds cheekily, giving Carmen a wink over her shoulder.

You suppress a laugh. You’re absolutely sure Carmen has no idea what moisturizing or face cream means. He’s as lost here as you had been in the Bear's kitchen.

“Uhm—” Carmen makes an unsure noise, his hand reaching up to his hair, but Margo interrupts him:

“No touching!” she says hurriedly. “Not until the end of the shoot.”

You laugh for real now.

“How is it looking, guys?” Elena calls from the other side of the studio, checking on you.

“We’re fine. Carmen’s about to get changed, so you can get ready, El.”

You turn back to Carmen, who’s checking the studio with a mix of hesitance and curiosity. He’s dressed in light blue denim—unusual—and a gray jumper you’ve seen on him before.

“I’ll help,” you assure him. As the stylist is absent, you promised Rob that you would give a hand on the shoot. Besides, some selected garments are meant to be ready, plus you know they had asked Carmen to bring some of his stuff. “Follow me.”

Disappearing behind a screen that creates a changing space with clothes and steamers, you come properly face to face.

“Hey,” you say, unable to think of anything better. Your voice remains steady despite the slight flutter in your chest.

“Hey,” he replies, offering a small, almost uncertain smile. He glances around, taking in the unfamiliar setting. “This is… different.”

“Yeah,” you agree, gesturing to the setup around you. “But it’s all about making you look good.”

Carmen chuckles softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “No pressure, right?”

You smile, unable to play the Ice Queen anymore, and for a moment, the awkwardness between you dissipates. “Let’s get started.”

Carmen glances at you, seemingly reassured by your calm demeanor, even if he’s out of his element. You walk over to the clothes neatly hung on a rack. Immediately, you spot the cool embroidered Bode jackets, simple Carhartt pieces, more tailored Ami Paris clothes. There’s Maharishi and PAM too, probably included by the stylist based on your comment that Carmen likes the workwear style, though they are a bit too colorful.

You tell Carmen a little about every brand, trying to get him out of his head and focus on something else. To give him a taste of the world of magazines, media, and fashion. Similar to what he had done for you in the restaurant—when he was in a mood to talk about his dishes, ideas about combining ingredients, and crafting new flavors.

“What about this?” you suggest, handing him a soft, tan brown Carhartt WIP suede jacket. You know that Carmy knows Carhartt because you’ve seen him in their clothes, and you also know that he’s a big denim head. This garment will also help him not to feel as exposed in front of the camera at the start.

Carmen takes the jacket, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s analyzing every stitch. He slips it on, and you can’t help but note how well it fits him. Natalie nailed the sizes of his clothes perfectly.

You go wait for him at the spot that Elena has set up, Margo already waiting there too, in case any adjustments to the hair are needed during the shoot. When Carmen finally walks over, Elena gives him a reassuring nod as he takes his place in front of the camera, hands in the jacket’s pockets. You watch from the sidelines, a little amused but mostly impressed at how the whole scene has come together. The large windows bathe the room in soft, natural light, casting shadows that play off the industrial vibe of the studio.

Carmen is nervous—anyone can see that—but he stands tall, doing his best to follow Elena’s quiet directions. You watch the laptop screen from the corner of your eye, where all photos appear after Elena presses the shutter, frame after frame. Carmen’s unease is apparent, and for a second you wonder if this really was such a good idea after all.

After another five painful minutes, it’s clear that it’s not getting better. You share a quick look with Elena and say, “Could you put some music on, girls?” Then, turning to Carmen, you add, “I think we can change the outfit now,” you say easily.

You go back to the styling corner, Carmen following you. When you’re both hidden again, you glance at Carmen whose whole body is stiff, discomfort oozing off him.

“This is really not so bad,” you start, but Carmen shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that would drive Margo mad if she saw it.

“I’m a chef, not… this,” he says, gesturing to the setting. “I’m not supposed to be in front of cameras, doing interviews, pretending like—like I fucking know what I’m doing. This is all bullshit.”

You take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to reach him. You’ve seen him under pressure before, but this is different. This isn’t about the restaurant; this is about him feeling out of place, exposed.

“Carmen, you’re right. You’re a chef, and a damn good one,” you say, keeping your tone calm and reassuring. It’s strange to be this way for a person who you’ve only ever seen confident and sure, except for what happened in the office two weeks ago.

“But this is part of it, too,” you carry on, trying to catch Carmen’s eye. “People want to know the person behind the food. They want to see the passion, the creativity. Even the struggle. That’s what makes the Bear special—it’s you.”

He looks at you, eyes filled with doubt. “But what if… what if they see through it? What if they realize I’m just faking it?”

You step closer, close enough to reach out, but you don’t. Instead, you offer him a small, genuine smile. “Then they’ll see that you’re human, just like the rest of us. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect, Carmen.”

He closes his eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if I can be that guy.”

“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you reply gently. “And if you’re not feeling it, we can stop. We don’t have to do this. We could just use the pictures from the Bear.”

Carmen opens his eyes and looks at you, something shifting in his expression. It’s still a mix of fear and doubt, but there’s also a flicker of determination. “You really think I can do this?”

“Absolutely,” you confirm with deadly certainty.

The next moment, “1972” by The Smashing Pumpkins starts playing from the speakers in the studio.

Carmen surprises you by taking the initiative and choosing the clothes by himself. You turn when he starts shedding the jacket. Instead, you hang it back on the rack, needing something to do. When the rustling stops, you face the chef again. He’s wearing a pair of vintage Levi’s and a striped sailor crew neck. He looks good in the dark colors.

“Yeah?” he checks, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Yeah,” you nod, hoping it’s not obvious how much you like what you’re seeing. “Yeah.”

Gathering your courage, you reach to roll the sleeves up, exposing Carmen’s forearms, then move up to straighten the seams on his shoulders. You catch his gaze and this time, there’s a flicker of something—perhaps gratitude, or just recognition that you’re both navigating unfamiliar territory. Not just here, on the set, but also between you. You’re discovering another layer of your relationship, perhaps sensing that at this moment, you have the upper hand.

Carmen's expression softens from that tight apprehension to something more open, more trusting. “Thanks,” he says quietly, then looks down at himself, as if trying to imagine how he’ll appear in front of the camera now.

You step back slightly, giving him space, but also giving yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. The tension between you feels different than before, less about awkwardness and more like a mutual acknowledgment that neither of you has the playbook for this. And yet, you’re figuring it out together.

“Here,” you point Carmen to a big mirror in the corner, and he checks the reflection.

“I think I like it,” he says after a moment, and you give him a thumbs up, the silly gesture completely honest.

Back on set, with the music playing, the atmosphere lightens. Carmen doesn’t smile, but there’s a shift in the way he carries himself. He seems more settled in his skin, the dark colors enhancing his quiet confidence. Elena notices the difference immediately; she barely needs to give direction this time. He’s still far from relaxed, but there’s an authenticity in the way he stands, his gaze steady.

The photos start to reflect that subtle transformation, and you feel a tremendous sense of relief as you watch them pop up on the screen. Watching him, you feel an odd sense of pride. This isn’t just about Carmen being in front of the camera; it’s about him facing something that makes him uncomfortable and pushing through it, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this position. If you’re completely honest, you’re surprised that he’s willing to go through with this.

Elena seems pleased, giving Carmen a reassuring nod after every few clicks of the camera. When she finally steps back and lowers her lens, you see Carmen visibly exhale, tension easing from his frame.

“That was good,” Elena praises, glancing at the screen. “We’ve got some solid shots here.”

Carmen looks over, seemingly a little surprised, like he wasn’t quite sure it had gone as well as she said. “See?” you say, nudging him gently. “You nailed it.”

Carmen gives you a small, genuine smile this time. “Maybe,” he says, scratching the back of his head, messing up his styled hair.

After the third outfit change, Rob shows up, as planned, alongside the magazine’s publisher. As this had been arranged before the shoot, you hope it doesn’t throw Carmen off balance too much.

Luckily, Carmen slips into his professional chef mode as Rob greets him, calling him “Chef,” and thanking him sincerely for the opportunity. Rob shoots you a happy grin over Carmen’s shoulder.

The final outfit is dark gray tailored wool pants and a simple white tee, similar to what you know as Carmen’s daily uniform—probably why he chose it. You suggest adding a nice leather belt with a silver clasp to complete the look. Elena positions Carmen on a high stool this time, changing angles and perspectives.

For the first time today, Carmen looks truly at ease, despite the additional onlookers. You know Rob is looking for the perfect shot for next month’s cover.

Elena captures a few more shots before lowering her camera. “That’s it! We’re done,” she announces, a smile of satisfaction on her face. “Carmen, you did amazing.”

Carmen slides off the stool, his shoulders visibly relaxing as the weight of the shoot lifts. He looks over at you, a small, almost sheepish grin playing at his lips. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

You laugh softly, walking over to him. “Told you. You nailed it.”

Rob joins you and Carmen. “Chef, you were great today,” he says, clapping Carmen on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to see the final shots.”

Carmen nods, clearly more comfortable now that the shoot is over. “Thanks, Rob. I appreciate it.”

Rob turns to you with a grin. “You too. Thanks for making this happen.”

You nod, feeling a bit of pride at how smoothly things turned out. You’re careful not to jinx it—after all, the interview is still looming in the second half of the day, after you’ve had something to eat.

For the interview, you and Carmen sit down in a corner of the studio that’s been set up to look more intimate—two chairs facing each other with a small table in between. Your notebook rests on your lap. Elena is supposed to take a few shots of the formal interview, and now it’s your turn to be nervous. Very nervous.

You did an extensive amount of research and preparation for the article, keeping in mind your personal history with Carmen. He’s not just another personality you’re interviewing. He’s a guy you once knew. A chef at whose restaurant you had worked, or volunteered. These facts leave you feeling like you’re balancing on a thin rope, and you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach the interview. In the end, you decide to let Carmen set the tone. He could keep it personal or strictly professional.

“How did you enjoy the shoot?” you ask with a mischievous smile, starting off lightly. You don’t need to check your notes for that.

Carmen smiles, rubbing his lips with his fingers. “It was a new, interesting experience. I’m afraid I wasn’t very good, but I hope you’ll be able to find a couple of decent images.”

“And one excellent for the cover,” you add, careful not to interrupt him.

Out of habit and nervousness, you adjust the recorder on the table between you, making sure it’s on. Then you glance at your notes.

“When we met in Copenhagen ten years ago, you were staging at Noma. How do you look back on those times—when you were at the beginning of your journey but already experiencing the kitchens of the world’s best restaurants?”

It takes a moment before Carmen responds. “I was very young and very lucky. I took every opportunity that came my way, worked hard—harder than most—to learn and grow, and hopefully to stand out.” Carmen’s words are measured, careful. “Noma was my first experience outside the US, and it was intimidating. But also—it’s an incredibly peaceful and inspiring place. I loved every moment there. It also helped that I knew someone familiar in Copenhagen. That definitely made me feel less alone.”

You catch yourself staring, a warm feeling spreading through your chest—liquid heat filling every corner. You imagine this is what drinking Felix Felicis must feel like. You smile, and Carmen returns it with a quick smile of his own.

Clearing your throat, you prepare for the real questions, the ones that have to live up to everyone’s expectations—Rob’s, Carmen’s, and mostly your own. As the interview progresses, you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The initial tension has faded, replaced by a sense of collaboration. You’re both here for the same reason: to tell a story that matters.

You ask Carmen about his journey in the culinary world, the chefs he’s worked with, and the chefs he looks up to. You discuss diligence, innovation, and respect. You briefly touch on the topic of Michael and Carmen’s family, letting him decide how much he wants to share.

“You can be more or less fortunate with the starting position you get in life. That’s out of your hands. But the rest is in your hands. There’s no point in thinking about how others might have it easier—it will only paralyze you, trust me. You have to focus on what you can do, what you can change. Take the little you have and turn it into everything you have. Be proud of it. Stand up for yourself. Value yourself, but also others.”

His words are thoughtful, and you can tell he’s reflecting deeply.

There’s a pause, and you realize he’s waiting for your next question. You nod, acknowledging the weight of his words. Carmen answered everything with a mix of humility and passion, offering you—and the audience—glimpses of the person behind the chef: the struggles, the doubts, the relentless drive to succeed.

You glance at your notes, then back at him.

“That’s it. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to share a glimpse of your life and The Bear’s story with Taste readers,” you say, finishing with a cheeky smirk, hoping Carmen knows you’re sincere.

Carmen chuckles at your tone. “Thank you for having me,” he replies, smiling with that familiar mix of modesty and quiet strength. “It was a pleasure to talk. Hopefully, your readers won’t be too bored.”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “I doubt that. If anything, they’ll be more intrigued than ever. You’ve got a story people want to hear—and not just about the food.”

He raises an eyebrow, studying you. "Well, that’s good to hear."

You stand up and reach out to shake his hand, a gesture of thanks and closure. He takes it, his grip firm but gentle. Then Rob approaches with more handshakes and thanks, joined by Mrs. Sullivan—the publisher. You quietly slip away, not wanting to disturb their networking, and head over to thank Elena and Margot, who have already packed up their gear while you were interviewing Carmen.

“You guys are cute together,” Margot teases, winking at you. “I didn’t know you actually knew him knew him.”

You absolutely do blush, and Elena adds, “Totally,” giving you a sly grin. “He IS cute.”

“You should see him in the kitchen,” you grumble, shoving your notebook into your tote bag to hide your flushed face.

Suddenly, Carmen appears next to you, having parted ways with Rob and Mrs. Sullivan, who likely have better things to do on a Sunday. “You did good,” he says quietly, almost as an afterthought, as if offering reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

Your chest warms again with that liquid heat, a mix of pride and gratitude blooming. You offer him one last, genuine smile.

“Thanks, Carmen,” you reply softly.

“Actually,” he begins, looking nervous again, hands on his hips, “I—I wanted to talk to you. If you have time now?”

He glances back at Rob, but the man is nowhere to be seen, already gone. Carmen nods, seeming relieved.

“Lead the way.”

—

The weather’s been sweltering lately, the sun heating up the city’s concrete walls, asphalt roads, and stone pavements until it feels like being in a big kiln. Luckily, the coffee shop has air conditioning, which both Carmen and you welcome. They are offering unusual caffeine drinks—most of them including something fruity and milky. Carmen orders a Coke with ice without checking the menu, and you go for an iced blueberry matcha latte.

“Thank you for—” Carmen says when he’s seated properly, across from you once again.

“Really, that’s enough of the thanks,” you wave him off, but Carmen talks over you, “For respecting that I wanna keep some things private. During the interview.”

“Ah,” you nod slowly. “You know, normally I would send all the questions for authorization first,” you tell him truthfully, stirring your drink with the thin paper straw, mixing the green matcha with the milk froth and the purple syrup. “I wanted to be a bit nasty.”

It’s Carmen’s turn to slowly nod, once. “I see,” he says. “I’m not surprised, honestly.”

You fiddle with the collar of your cotton blouse nervously.

“I appreciate that you had my back today,” Carmen continues. “It means a lot to me, you know?”

Not used to hearing kind words from Carmen, you find it hard to look at him directly, so you keep staring into your drink instead. “I think I do.”

As if sensing your hesitation, Carmen gives you a second before he asks:

“So, you have a thing for clothes, huh? Fashion, I mean.”

“As you do,” you shoot back playfully but honestly.

“I guess I enjoy the aesthetic aspect of it… I really liked some of the clothes today. It was nice to try something new. I’m not very good at new things,” he muses. “I liked the dress you wore in your office the other day. You looked—different,” Carmen adds uncertainly, playing with the napkin under the sweaty glass.

“I don’t wear dresses very often,” you stammer out, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “And in the restaurant, I wanted to be in something that can get dirty. So… not too fancy clothes.”

Carmen notices how caught off guard you are right now.

“I wanted to bring up the topic of what happened at your work,” he explains slowly, hesitantly. “And what happened at The Bear before that… A lot of the aggression comes from my own frustration. And I shouldn’t take it out on other people. Like I said, there’s no excuse for it.”

You squirm in your seat, nervous to talk about the topic out loud for the first time. “It’s hard, Carm. First, you pretend you don’t know me. Then you barely talk to me. Then I feel like we’re actually starting to get along well, but you accuse me of this huge nonsense. All the while, I’m only trying to help you.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because I don’t know how to respond to kindness.”

Your eyes fill up with tears, and you have to blink a couple of times to chase them away. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding with it. Carmen’s sitting still on the stool, looking like a schoolboy who had misbehaved during recess.

“Be kind to kind,” you say simply, spreading your hands, your eyebrows raising.

Carmen chuckles, sounding very self-deprecating, scratching his nose. “I’m working on it.”

He might think you’ll let it slide. You won’t. “Promise,” you press, urgent. “Promise me.”

His eyes meet yours, and he says it. “I promise.” Then once more, in a stronger voice: “I promise. And I’m sorry.” And your heart breaks for him because you know he’s never known much kindness.

“Deal.” To keep your hands occupied, you take out your chewing gum, wrapping it in an empty sugar packet. Then you raise your iced latte in a mock toast, taking a first sip of the drink.

“Just... be careful with the 'nasty' part,” Carmen says with a slight grin, breaking the tension. “I don’t think either of us needs more of that.”

You chuckle. “Fair enough. I’ll try to keep the nastiness in check.”

Carmen smirks, shaking his head as he relaxes back into his chair. “I appreciate that.”

#took me long enough!#cracks and gaps #my fic #my writing #carmy berzatto #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #carmen x reader #carmen x you #carmy x fem!reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzattto #carmen berzatto x you

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xxspringmelodyxx · 7 months ago

Text

That Girl’s A Liar~

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Here is part III! I hope you all enjoy<333 Part I Part II

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. I headed towards the library, where Kai and I had planned to meet up and go over his strategy to ask Amai out. My mind was still buzzing with thoughts of Toru and the missed chance to talk to him earlier. It had been such a strange, disheartening day. For the first time since we became friends, Toru and I hadn’t exchanged a single word.

We never even crossed paths, our schedules seemingly conspiring to keep us apart. That or we were just too busy with school work to talk. It felt as if a crucial part of my day was missing, leaving an empty void that gnawed at me. The absence of our connection cast a shadow over everything, making the day feel unusually long and painfully lonely.

Entering the library, I spotted Kai at a table near the back, surrounded by books and notes. He looked up and waved me over with a relieved smile.

“Hey, Y/N!” Kai greeted me. “Thanks for coming. I really need your help with this science project, and… you know, the other thing.”

“Of course,” I replied, setting my bag down and pulling out my notebook. “Let’s get started.”

As we began reviewing the material, I noticed Toru entering the library. He paused at the entrance, his eyes scanning the room. When he saw me and Kai sitting close together, his expression shifted. Instead of approaching, he decided to observe from a distance, his curiosity and jealousy piqued.

“So…do you think Amai likes coffee or tea better? I’m thinking about asking her if she’d like to get something with me sometime this week…or maybe next week.” Kai asked, glancing at his notes to mask the question.

I leaned in, whispering back, “Probably tea. She seems like a tea person.”

Kai chuckled, shaking his head. “You think so? What makes you so sure?”

I gasped dramatically, placing a hand over my heart in an exaggerated manner. “You doubt my finely honed abilities to discern whether someone prefers coffee or tea? That is blasphemous!” I declared with mock seriousness, a playful glint in my eyes. “My skills in beverage detection are unparalleled. I can read the subtle signs and nuances of a person’s taste preferences with unmatched precision.”

Kai laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Alright, alright, I believe you. I just want to make sure I do this right. I don’t want to mess up any opportunities given to me."

I smiled reassuringly, leaning in a bit closer. "You won't mess this up, Kai. Just be yourself and show genuine interest in her. Trust me, Amai will appreciate the effort and sincerity. And remember, you've got me in your corner to help you out."

Kai's expression softened, his nervousness giving way to a grateful smile. "Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. I guess I just need to relax and take it one step at a time."

I nodded, feeling a surge of warmth from our friendship. "Exactly. And who knows, maybe this will be the start of something really great for you."

Toru found a spot behind a bookshelf where he could watch us without being seen. He noticed the way Kai leaned in close, and how I responded with a smile and a laugh. His grip on his bag tightened as he tried to make sense of our interaction.

We both giggled at our own seriousness, finding some levity in the situation. Toru, catching the intimate nature of our conversation but not the details, felt his jealousy deepen. He struggled to maintain his composure as he watched us from the shadows.

“What the hell could he be saying to make you smile like that?” He thought

Kai nudged me, his voice low. “Do you think Amai likes science fiction? I’m thinking of recommending a book.”

I leaned in closer, whispering, “Yeah, I think she does. She mentioned something about liking scientific settings in our last class. Maybe you should talk with her about what her favorite book is or something amongst those lines.”

Toru’s eyes narrowed as he watched us, feeling a pang of jealousy. The way we were huddled together, whispering and laughing, was unsettling for him. What was going on between you two?

Kai looked at me with a mixture of hope and nervousness. “Do you think it’s too soon to ask Amai about her favorite books?”

I shook my head, smiling reassuringly. "Not at all. In fact, asking about her favorite books is a great way to show you’re interested in her likes and dislikes. It will make her feel appreciated."

Kai’s face lit up with relief. "Right. You’re right… I just… I don’t want her to think I’m some sort of creep."

I laughed, rubbing my hand on his shoulder, trying my best to reassure him. "For asking her about her favorite book? Kai, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. You aren’t going to sound like a creep as long as you don’t ask too many personal questions. Just keep it simple!"

Kai nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Okay, got it. Keep it simple and genuine."

I patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Exactly. You're going to do great, Kai. Like I said, just be yourself and let the conversation flow naturally. Amai will see the real you, and that's what matters most."

He took a deep breath, seeming more at ease. "Thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate your help. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

I grinned, feeling the bond of our friendship strengthen. "Anytime, Kai. I'm always here for you. Now, let's get back to this science project and make sure we ace it."

As you two continued discussing both the science project and Kai’s plans for Amai, Aksana entered the library. She spotted Toru almost immediately and saw him staring at you. With a determined look, she walked straight over to him, her books clutched to her chest.

Toru continued to watch you and Kai, his frustration growing as he struggled to understand your guys’ interaction. Just then, Aksana appeared beside him, noticing his distraction.

"Hey, Toru, can you help me with my homework again? I’m really struggling to understand it," Aksana said, effectively blocking his view of me and Kai.

Toru hesitated, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer. He wanted to focus on our interaction, to understand what was going on between us.

"Uh... sorry, Aksana, but I am actually—" he began, trying to excuse himself.

"Oh, please, Toru? I really need you!" she begged, sitting down next to him and effectively blocking his view of me and Kai.

He felt a surge of annoyance but forced a polite smile, trying to be nice despite his reluctance. "Alright, Aksana. What do you need help with?" he asked, though his thoughts were still preoccupied with me and Kai.

I glanced over, catching a glimpse of Toru and Aksana together. My chest tightened as I saw them, their heads close together as they worked on her assignment. The way his arm grazed against hers, the way his eyes looked at hers—it all made my stomach churn with an unfamiliar pang of jealousy.

Kai noticed my distraction and gently nudged me. “You okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Let’s get back to work.”

We continued studying, but I couldn’t help stealing glances at Toru and Aksana. Every time I looked over, they seemed more engrossed in their conversation, making my heart sink a little further.

The image of them laughing together left a bitter taste in my mouth. The day that had started with a missed connection now felt even more complicated and heavy.

I glanced over again, catching a moment where Aksana playfully nudged Toru. He smiled politely, but there was something distant in his eyes, a flicker of the tension I knew he was trying to hide. Yet, the way they interacted still made my heart clench with jealousy.

Kai’s voice pulled me back to our conversation. “So, when do you think is the best time to ask Amai about her interests? I don’t want to come off too strong.”

“Maybe start with something light,” I suggested, trying to keep my focus. “Talk about school, then gradually bring up hobbies and books. It will feel more natural that way.”

Kai nodded, absorbing my advice. We continued to work, but my mind kept drifting. I noticed that Toru would occasionally glance my way, his expression unreadable. Each time our eyes almost met, Aksana would say something to draw his attention back to her.

Eventually, Kai suggested a break. “Hey, Y/N, why don’t we take a break and go to the café down the street? My treat for all the help you’ve been to me.” Toru’s expression darkened as he overheard Kai’s suggestion. The mention of our usual spot hit him hard. He watched as I hesitated, torn between helping Kai and the implications it might have for Toru. Maybe it would be for the best. It would help keep my mind off of him and Aksana.

“Sure, Kai. Thanks,” I finally said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Kai beamed, completely oblivious to the tension. “Great! Let’s go.”

We packed up our things and headed out, leaving Toru and Aksana behind. Toru watched you both leave, his hand breaking his pencil in half from the jealousy and frustration he felt.

*****

I stirred my tea with my straw, struggling to drink it as I was lost in thought. My mind kept drifting back to Toru and Aksana, and the unsettling feelings it stirred within me. Kai took notice of my distraction and leaned in, concern etched on his face.

“What’s up, Y/N? You seem really out of it,” Kai asked gently.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Kai. Really,” I replied, trying to brush off my feelings with a weak smile.

“Come on, I know self-deception better than anyone. Now, what’s going on?” he pressed, his tone sincere and encouraging.

I sighed, putting down my straw and looking up at Kai. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, and I knew I couldn’t hide my feelings any longer. “It’s just… seeing Toru with Aksana today. It made me realize how much I miss talking to him. We didn’t even get to see each other at all today, and it felt so… empty.”

Kai nodded thoughtfully, a hint of realization dawning in his eyes. “Do you… like him?” he asked, a small smile making its way to his face as he saw me look away from him.

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I avoided his gaze, fiddling with my straw. “I… I don’t know, Kai,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, so you do like him!” he yelled, his eyes lighting up at the news.

“Will you keep it down, Kai?! The whole world doesn’t need to know!” I exclaimed, placing my hands over his mouth to muffle his excitement. My heart raced at the thought of anyone else overhearing our conversation.

Kai laughed, gently moving my hands away. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep it quiet. But wow, Y/N, this is big! No wonder you seemed so distracted today.”

I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I looked down at my untouched tea. “Yeah, it’s a lot. But just looking at him makes me feel so happy. His smile, his voice, his eyes…even his dumb jokes and antics make my heart flutter.

Kai laughed, making me look up at him.

”Why don’t you tell him?”

”I tried! But every time I try to, its like the universe always seems to find a way to stop it from happening.” I explained.

”Not only that… but stupid Aksana keeps butting in, so I can never get any time alone with him,” I finished, frustration evident in my voice.

As Kai was about to say something, he noticed the weather changing. The clouds began to circle around in the sky, making him look down at me with concern.

“Uh… Y/N?” he asked, pointing towards the outside.

I turned and rolled my eyes, realizing what was happening. “Damnit. Sorry,” I said, quickly taking a deep breath to regain control. Within a few seconds, the clouds disappeared and the sun began to shine once more.

Kai watched in awe, his expression a mix of surprise and admiration. “Wow, you really do have a unique and powerful cursed technique. I forget sometimes.”

I shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, it tends to react to my emotions. It’s something I’ve been trying to control better. But now Im seeing that I need to work harder on that…especially if something like this is getting to me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it. Love is a powerful thing. It can make even the strongest of people lose control.” He said, making me ponder.

”Listen, thank you for the tea, Kai. It was so sweet of you…but I better get going. I have some things I need to sleep on tonight. How about we meet tomorrow during lunch and we can go over the plan some more and you can finally get some interaction with her.” I said, quickly leaving the cafe, not giving him any time to respond.

As I stepped outside, the fresh air helped clear my mind. I walked all the way back to my home, my thoughts swirling with everything that had happened. Once inside, I went straight to my room and face-planted into the bed, letting out a long, frustrated sigh.

As I lay there, the events of the day replayed in my mind. Every missed chance to talk to him, every moment he spent with Aksana instead of me—it all seemed to point to one conclusion. What if the universe was trying to tell me something? What if Toru and I were never meant to be more than friends?

I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away. I couldn’t give up so easily. I needed to talk to Toru, to clear the air and find out how he really felt. But the fear of rejection, of ruining our friendship, weighed heavily on my heart.

Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling, Why did things have to be so complicated? All I wanted was to be close to Toru, to share everything with him, to hear his voice….I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. “Get a grip, Y/N,” I muttered to myself.

I don’t know whats going to happen to us in the future…but I do know that I am going to make sure I get alone time with Toru tomorrow…no matter what. I need to see him…and just him. With that resolve in mind, I closed my eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.

—With Satoru—

“I don’t know what the fuck to do, Suguru! It’s like he’s completely replaced me!” Satoru exclaimed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. The usually composed and confident young man was now a bundle of nerves, his eyes reflecting the turmoil he felt inside.

Suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching his friend with a mixture of concern and sympathy. “Calm down, Satoru. Tell me what’s going on.”

Satoru sighed, pacing the room. “It’s Y/N. I’ve barely gotten to spend time with her, if any at all. She’s too preoccupied with that boy Kai. It’s like she doesn’t even notice me anymore. And seeing them together... it hurts, Suguru. It fucking hurts.” The words tumbled out of him in a rush, each one laced with the raw pain of unrequited love and the sting of jealousy.

Suguru nodded, understanding the depth of his friend’s anguish. He had witnessed the way Satoru looked at you, talked about you, even thought about you. He knew how much you meant to him. “Okay, first, you need to try and relax man-“

”How can you say that? You know how I feel about her. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about her. I miss her so much…I love her so much.” He started, looking down at his bandaged arm where you helped him. The memory of your gentle touch and kind words only made the pain sharper.

”i just…I thought maybe she might’ve felt the same for me.” He said, his voice breaking in defeat. Suguru lifted himself off the wall and walked towards his best friend, placing a hand on his shoulder.

”Listen man, I get it. I know how much you love her, and maybe it feels like she’s slipping away. But I feel like all of this is just a big misunderstanding. Maybe there’s something going on between those two that you don’t know of.”

”Like what? Like them dating? Do you think they are dating?” Satoru interrupted, his eyes widening in fear at the realization. The mere thought of you being with someone else made his heart ache with a pain he couldn’t bear.

”What? No! I'm just saying that maybe there is more to the story than you think. You need to talk to her. You need to finally let her know how you feel. Maybe then…all will be revealed.” He suggested. To be honest, Suguru wasn’t sure what you were doing either. He could’ve sworn you were absolutely head over heels for Satoru just as much as he was for you…did he interpret your feelings wrong? Could it be true that you moved on from his best friend to another boy?

“It’s not that simple,” Satoru replied, his voice tinged with desperation. “Every time I get close, something or someone gets in the way. Trust me, I want to tell her! I want to be with her so bad, to just hear her beautiful voice, see her beautiful smile… but instead, I end up seeing her with Kai...and hes the one getting all of those things that I want. it’s like a knife to the heart.”

Suguru placed a reassuring hand on Satoru’s shoulder. “Then make her see it. Show her what she’s missing.”

Satoru's eyes lit up with an idea. “You’re right. Maybe if she sees me with someone else, she’ll realize what she’s missing. Maybe I need to make her jealous.”

Suguru’s eyes widened in alarm. “No, that’s not what I meant! I was trying to say that you need to be honest with her, not play games.”

But Satoru, being himself, was already forming a plan in his head. “Thanks, Suguru! You’re a genius. I’ll show her that I can move on too. Maybe then she’ll realize how much she misses me.”

“Satoru, you fucking idiot, wait—” Suguru began, but it was too late. Satoru was already heading out the door, determined to put his plan into action.

Ignoring Suguru’s protests, Satoru sought out Aksana. If making Y/N jealous was the way to get her attention, then he would go all in.

*****

It didn’t take too long before Satoru found Aksana. There she was, in the library, engrossed in a book.

“Aksana, hey,” Satoru said, putting on his most charming smile.

Aksana looked up, surprised. “Oh, hi, Satoru. What’s up?”

“Do you want to hang out? Maybe grab a coffee or something?” Satoru asked, trying to sound casual.

Aksana’s face held a sinister smirk. Had all the work she put into getting close to Satoru finally paid off? “Sure, I’d love to,” she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she sensed an opportunity unfolding before her.

As they walked out together, Satoru couldn’t help but glance around, hoping Y/N would see them. Suguru’s words echoed in his mind, but he pushed them aside. This had to work. Y/N had to realize what she was missing.

Meanwhile, Suguru watched from a distance, shaking his head. “This is going to backfire spectacularly,” he muttered to himself. He could only hope that Satoru would come to his senses before it was too late.

”What the hell is he doing?” Shoko asked, showing up out of nowhere. Suguru looked down at her and shook his head.

”Something he's going to regret.”

—With you—

Well…your plan to get alone time with Toru plan went to shit. Weeks had passed, and you hadn't had a single opportunity to be alone with Toru. Each time you attempted to get close, someone inevitably interrupted—most often Aksana. It was almost as if she had a sixth sense for when you wanted to speak with him because she was perpetually by his side. The way she clung to him made it appear as though he were her boyfriend, the two of them always in close physical proximity. People around you even started saying how cute of a couple they would be.

If you wanted to talk to him before class, it was too late—Aksana had already walked with him to school before you even had a chance. Trying to catch him during lunch was futile because Aksana had preemptively whisked him away to a nice place to eat. Attempting to speak to him after school was equally hopeless since she was already monopolizing his time, ostensibly to get help with her “homework.” It was driving your emotions into turmoil, and consequently, the weather seemed to mirror your inner state.

Days that were forecasted to be sunny turned out to be rainy, and days that were supposed to be mildly windy saw unexpectedly strong gusts. There were even some days that would have a mix of both snow and rain. All because of you. Shoko, Kai, and Suguru quickly noticed the change in you and attempted to reach out, but you were so consumed by your own emotions that you began to shut them out. The frustration and longing were driving you to the brink of insanity, and you could feel your sanity slipping away with each passing day.

What made matters worse was that you started to notice how much closer Toru and Aksana were getting. Almost too close. You still remember the day you were in the lunchroom with Kai, preparing him to go talk to Amai, only to see Toru and Aksana leaving the school premises together. They were laughing with one another, their heads close as they shared a private joke. The sight made your heart ache, a deep, painful throb that you couldn’t ignore.

Kai, noticed your sudden silence, and he followed your gaze. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You tore your eyes away from the scene, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Just lost in thought.”

Kai gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further. “Well, if you need to talk, you know I’m here for you, right?”You nodded, appreciating his support but feeling helpless. “Thanks, Kai. I appreciate it.”

As the days passed, the growing closeness between Toru and Aksana became increasingly difficult to ignore. They seemed inseparable, and every time you saw them together, it felt like a dagger twisting in your heart. You felt a mix of emotions—hurt, jealousy, and a strange sense of betrayal. Why was Satoru spending time with Aksana? Had you misread the situation all along? Did Satoru really not feel the same about you as you did about him? The thought was almost too painful to bear. You could’ve sworn he…you thought he…well maybe…maybe he just didn’t love you after all….

*****

The following day, you decided to go to the cafeteria to grab something quick to eat. You and Kai were close to being done with the science project, and he and Amai were becoming closer and closer each day. He managed to build up enough courage to take her out to eat, so you were left alone. Now, you had some time all to yourself to just relax. It was a rare moment, but it meant that you got to actually sit with Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru.

As you made your way, the cafeteria’s usual cacophony of voices and clattering dishes seemed to fade into the background. You spotted Shoko and Suguru sitting together, but no sign of Toru. You went over to the table Shoko and Suguru were at, and forced a smile, trying to shake off the sense of dread that had been gnawing at you. As you sat down, you heard Toru’s voice from afar. Your eyes involuntarily drifted to the direction of his voice and found Toru and Aksana entering the lunchroom, talking amongst themselves about something random.

They were standing close, their heads almost touching as they shared a private joke, their laughter mingling with the ambient noise but somehow standing out painfully to your ears. The sight made your stomach churn with jealousy and hurt, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that had become all too familiar.

Every giggle from Aksana and every smile from Toru felt like a dagger to your heart. The way they seemed so at ease with each other, so effortlessly close, was unbearable. You had always cherished the moments when Toru smiled at you like that, but now those moments seemed to be slipping away, replaced by this growing bond between him and Aksana. It was a bitter pill to swallow, seeing someone else enjoy what you longed for so deeply.

Suguru, sitting across from you, noticed your pained expression and turned to look at Toru and Aksana. He scoffed in disgust, completely in disbelief at what his best friend was doing. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in frustration. He couldn’t fathom how Toru could be so oblivious to your feelings, so wrapped up in his plan to make you jealous that he didn’t notice the hurt he was causing you.

Shoko, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to strangle both Toru and Aksana. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she watched them, her fists clenched tightly on the table. “This has to stop,” she whispered to Suguru fiercely, her voice barely containing her rage. She had seen the toll this situation was taking on you and it infuriated her to see her friend in such pain.

Both Suguru and Shoko had witnessed your frustration and heartbreak over the past few weeks. They had seen the light dim in your eyes and the smile that no longer reached your lips. It pained them to see you like this, to see someone they cared about suffering in silence. They exchanged a look, silently agreeing that something needed to be done to end this misery.

“Hey, Y/N,” Shoko said, her voice softer now as she turned her attention to you. “Are you okay?” Her eyes were filled with concern, and you could tell she was genuinely worried about you.

You forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, though your voice betrayed your true feelings. The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and you could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you fought to keep them at bay.

Suguru leaned forward, his expression serious and earnest. “You don’t have to put up with this, you know. We’re here for you,” he said, his tone comforting yet firm. He wanted you to know that you weren’t alone, that you had friends who cared about you and wanted to help.

And you were grateful. Truly. But the emotions were overwhelming, and you couldn’t bear to delve into them any further. You sighed deeply and placed your head in your hands, trying to steady your breathing. “Can we not talk about this… please?” you asked, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. The sight of Toru and Aksana together was like a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have, and it was tearing you apart. You just needed a break. A break from it all.

“Of course...” Shoko replied softly, her worry for you still evident in her eyes. She exchanged a glance with Suguru, both of them silently agreeing to shift the conversation away from the topic that was causing you so much pain.

“Well, how about we talk about training then?” Suguru suggested, his tone lightening in an attempt to lift the mood. “I heard Sensei Yaga is having all of us go out later today for a practice exam on our form to see where we are at.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and mild panic. Was that today? Just when you thought you might get a break, now you were bombarded with the realization that you had to use your abilities to get a good grade. The stress of everything was beginning to weigh heavily on you, and the thought of the upcoming practice exam only added to your anxiety.

“Great,” you muttered, your voice tinged with sarcasm. “Just when I thought I could relax, now I have to worry about my form and performance.” You ran a hand through your hair, feeling the tension building up inside you.

Suguru gave you a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s a lot, but maybe it’ll be a good distraction. Focusing on training could help take your mind off things for a bit.”

“Yeah, and you’re really good,” Shoko added, her tone encouraging. “You always impress Sensei Yaga. Just think of it as another chance to show what you can do.”

You nodded, appreciating their attempts to cheer you up. “I guess you’re right. It’s just… everything feels so overwhelming right now. I’ll try to focus on the training and give it my best shot.”

As the conversation shifted to the details of the practice exam and various training techniques, you found yourself gradually relaxing. It wasn’t a complete escape from your thoughts about Toru and Aksana, but it was a temporary reprieve. For now, you could channel your energy into preparing for the exam and proving your skills.

The laughter and chatter of the cafeteria buzzed around you, blending into the background as you listened to Shoko and Suguru discuss strategies and tips. You took a deep breath, letting their words wash over you, and tried to find some semblance of peace in the midst of the chaos that had become your life.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was from Kai. His words caught your attention right away.

“Meet me before our practice exam today. I’m going to finally ask Amai out… and to the dance… but I want to practice what I’m going to say. I need you to pretend to be her,” he wrote.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling, a small smile grew on your face. At least someone in your life was going to have a good ending… hopefully. The idea of helping Kai with his romantic plans provided a glimmer of positivity in your otherwise turbulent day. It was a reminder that not everything was bleak and that happiness was still possible for those around you.

You quickly replied, typing out a response with a renewed sense of purpose. “Sure, I’ll meet you in our science class. We can practice there,” you texted back, feeling a bit lighter.

“Y/n…we need to tell you something. It’s about Satoru and what he’s been doing. Just please be ready to-“ Suguru started before being cut off by your voice.

“Hey guys, it was wonderful talking to you both… but something just came up and I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later today!” you said, not hearing a word they were saying before getting up and leaving, trying to muster the enthusiasm you no longer felt.

As you walked away, Toru’s eyes followed you, noticing the small smile on your face that barely masked your true feelings. His heart began to race with anticipation, a flicker of hope igniting within him. Were you finally going to come to him? Were you going to hug him and let him hear your voice that he had been longing for? He missed the way you used to laugh, the way you used to share everything with him.

Just as you made it a few feet away from him, your eyes locked with his, making both of you pause. For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still, and all the noise of the cafeteria faded into the background. His heart pounded in his chest, a flicker of hope igniting within him. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment he had dreamed about during the countless sleepless nights. He wanted to reach out to you, to bridge the painful gap that had grown between you.

However, before he could make a move, you averted your eyes and walked in the opposite direction, directly ignoring him. He felt his heart shatter right then and there from your actions. The small glimmer of hope that had sparked in his heart was extinguished in an instant. Every step you took away from him felt like a crushing blow, each one more painful than the last. The rejection was a raw, agonizing wound that left him reeling.

“Y/n…” He muttered under his breath.

—————

Part IV coming soon!

Taglist: @goreedo11

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