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norrizzandpia · 10 months

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Showing You My Love (LN4)

Summary: McLaren’s forced Lando into a PR stunt of a relationship and his girlfriend, Y/n, back into hiding just when she was ready to go public.

Warnings: language, a condom, angst, a sort of break up, but happy ending

Note: not a request IM SORRY this one isn’t as slay as i can do but i just rlly wanted to get something out bc I haven’t posted in a while and miss yall 🫶🏻 this one’s storyline is quite complicated because Lando is in a PR relationship whilst also having an actual gf sooo have fun? ALSO SMUT FLUFF AND ANGST FOR BOTH LANDO AND OSCAR WILL BE COMING SOON I HAVE LESS THAN A WEEK OF SCHOOL LEFT SO JUST BEAR WITH ME 🙏🏻

“Lan?” Y/n shouts as she walks through the door of his apartment, a large smile on her face as she prepares to ask him a question that could set anew relationship.

She hears a soft sigh before he responds, “In here.”

She travels to the living room to find her boyfriend sitting on the couch, his head buried in his phone.

She sits hesitantly next to him, newfound nerves erupting in her stomach.

“Can I talk to you?” She whispers, his blatant disregard for her presence told her this might not be a good time to breach this particular subject.

He nods nonetheless, waving his hand slightly to signal her continuation, “Sure, what’s up?”

She takes a deep breath, the fact that his eyes aren’t on hers makes her want to back out. She perseveres, although, hands clasped in her lap as she asks, “Do you think we could go public? With our relationship, I mean.”

At this, he freezes. Lando’s fingers stop flying over his phone’s keyboard and he slowly turns to stare at her.

The words try to fall from his lips, but they stop right at the cusp. Lando watches as she retreats into herself, a reality check that cuts deep in her heart as he looks to be rejecting her proposition.

“I…” He hesitates, “I can’t.”

Her eyebrows contort, “Why?”

His phone raises to her face, his hand shoving it in her eyeline to see the text conversation he had been having with Zak before she had sat down. Her gaze floats over the blue bubbles for a moment before she understands and her heart sinks.

“I don’t understand.” She does, though. She just can’t bring herself to accept it.

Lando forces her to, “They want me in a relationship, but a PR stunt. A girl named Olivia, they said.”

Her nails rips at the skin of her thumb, “Why not me?”

“It’s good for the team, baby. She’s a big name, her dad is a big investor. I have to do this.”

It hurts too much to ask, “What does that mean for us?”

He nods, “I knew you were going to ask me this. This doesn’t mean anything for us. It just means that we have to stay quiet for a little while longer. I’m still your boyfriend, Y/n.”

She huffs, “Just in private.”

His arms slithers around her shoulders, a touch so cold she wants to shove it away, “I’ll always be yours. Anywhere. Anytime.”

Sure, let’s see if that proves true, she thought.

—

Olivia is a woman of many things. Kindness is not one of them.

From the moment she steps foot into Lando’s life, Y/n is her main target. From backhanded compliments to obvious jests at her, Y/n watches as Lando lets it all go unsaid.

“Y/n?” Olivia’s voice rings in Y/n’s ear as she stops her staring at Lando.

Turning her head, Y/n smile is strained, “Yes?”

Olivia cocks her head and the sinister look looms beneath her blue eyes, “You’re sitting too close to Lando. Remember, he’s my boyfriend outside. Anybody could see you eyefucking him right now.”

Y/n analyzes the situation. At a lunch table in the paddock, Lando sitting to her left, Olivia to her right, fans and employees scattered amongst the ground below them, Y/n feels her tolerance break a bit more.

She slides her chair across the ground, a dry screeching ringing her ears and drowning out the anger toward the two people sitting closest to her.

Olivia, the woman she loathes, and Lando, the man she hates that she loves. Since the beginning of their act, Y/n has understood where her place is, or at least she has understood from the constant reminder from all people involved. Lando, Olivia, Zak, and Jon have made it their duty to remind her of her image as Lando’s best friend, nothing more.

In the beginning, she felt as though she meant a bit more than just nothing, but, as she sits between the couple as they share small talk, she feels to be falling behind.

A sort of feeling that plasters her heart on the wall and spreads it around until its pieces and bits are left on the ground.

A sort of feeling that forces her to grab her purse and leave the table, mumbling an excuse of wanting to find Oscar, the only other man she knows throughout the paddock.

The feeling worsens when Lando smiles at her, nodding his head along as if there’s no problem.

There’s a wetness pooling in her eyes that begs to differ, that counters Lando’s implications.

🏎️

Y/n finds Oscar in his driver’s room, his body hunched over the bench as he texts Lily on his phone. When he hears the creaking of the door, his eyes lift and begin to soften when they take in Y/n.

“Hey! What’s up?” He cheerfully says, the tone making Y/n draw in a breath as she plasters a smile on her face.

She plops down on his massage bed, “Nothing! Just bored.”

At that, he seems confused, “Where’s Lando? He isn’t free? I feel like it can’t get boring with him.” He chuckles.

She smiles softly, head falling down to stare at her hands in her lap, “He’s with Olivia. Thought I’d give them their space.”

She raises her eyes when she hears Oscar let out a scoff. He stares at her blankly before groaning, “I’m so sorry, I know she’s Lando’s girlfriend and all, but, oh my god, Y/n, I can’t stand her.”

Her teeth shine from her giggles, “Ah, she’s okay. She’s not that bad.”

Oscar deadpans, “Y/n, she asked you how much your Chanel purse was and then told you hers was more expensive.”

Y/n shakes her head, eyes falling back down to her lap, “Yeah, that wasn’t her finest moment.”

“It would make more sense for Lando to date you.” He whispers. Whether he meant for her to hear it or not, Y/n doesn’t know. Regardless, she acts as if she doesn’t, not wanting to have to create a situation where she has to genuinely lie to one of her friends.

As if she hasn’t been doing that for the past year she’s been with Lando.

Lying to every person she cherished most was the worst thing to ask of her. There was a resentment that brewed below the love she had for Lando because of the things he made her give up for him.

“Are you staying for the race? I know it goes pretty late into the night.” Oscar pipes up when a silence encompasses them.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m going to go back to the hotel after this.”

“Oh, too bad.” Oscar sighs as he gets up from his seat, walking over to her and peeking in her bag.

Y/n’s eyebrow inches up, “What are you doing?”

Oscar plants a sly smile on his face as his hand lightly pushes the bag open further, “Got any gum in here?”

She laughs loudly as he continues to search through her bag, less ashamed now. She’s keeled over when she hears him cackle. Y/n looks to see Oscar clasping a small package in his hand, a large smile on his face as he stares in disbelief.

“A condom?! Why do you have a condom?!” He screams, which warrants Y/n to slap her hands over his mouth.

She whispers, “Shut up!”

Oscar's mouth slobbers over her palms as he continues to laugh, “Who are you planning on sleeping with here, Y/n?”

She draws a blank, saying the one thing that comes to her mind, “He isn’t involved with F1.”

Another lie added to the pile she agitatedly sits on.

Oscar draws back, “Oh? There’s an actual man in the picture?”

She grins slightly, grabbing her bag and moving toward the door, “And you wonder why I’m leaving early.”

Oscar stays there, still chuckling at the leftover condom in his hand.

🏎️

Hours later, Lando is running around the paddock like a mad man, stopping random strangers to ask if they had seen Y/n.

Oscar stands off to the side when he hears Lando’s frantic voice behind him, petrifying an innocent fan asking for a simple photo. He waltzes over, hand coming to clasp Lando’s shoulder before saying, “Why don’t you just take the picture, mate?”

Lando turns his head, eyeing Oscar before fully moving his body the other way, “Do you know where Y/n is? I haven’t heard from her at all.”

Oscar looks at Lando blankly, “She left. You didn’t know?”

Lando steps back, “Left? No? What?”

Sensing that there is more to this discussion, he leans around Lando and grabs the fan’s phone. He shuffles Lando and the fan into the frame before snapping the picture, ushering the fan away gently.

When they’re left alone, Oscar questions, “How come you didn’t know? It seemed like a set plan when she told me. She’s going to meet some guy, she said.”

Lando’s eyes bulge, “What?”

The tone is low, intimidating and it makes Oscar doubt the platonic dynamic of the two.

“She hasn’t answered your calls? Have you tried to call her?” Oscar changes the subject, not wanting to realize something when Lando actively has a girlfriend.

Lando shakes his head, “No. Who’s this guy?”

“I don’t know, Lando. She didn’t say anything about him. Ask her about it later. After the race.” Oscar tries, knowing Lando’s presence is direly needed in a few minutes when the lights go out on the track.

Lando huffs, “Fine.”

He walks off, clearly irritated at Y/n’s disappearance.

Oscar watches the scene play out in front of him.

Lando’s figure vanishes from sight.

Then, out of the corner of Oscar’s eye, Olivia’s eyes stay on Lando’s distress before he goes out of sight. She leans against a wall, a smirk on her face that reads something dark.

She shakes her head, tapping away at her phone, as she snickers to herself, seemingly satisfied with her boyfriend’s response.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to witness her behavior.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to see Lando’s and Olivia’s relationship in a different light.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to question what really goes on behind closed doors.

—

“Shit fucking race. Shit fucking day. Shit fucking year. Jesus fucking Christ.” Lando whispers to himself as he unlocks the door to his hotel room.

When he enters through the threshold, the lights are completely out, the only light being the soft sunlight bleeding through the curtains. Y/n’s body lays cuddled under the blankets of the bed and the sight melts Lando’s heart, no matter how disappointed he is in her lack of support today.

He checks the clock, noticing the blaring 7 that makes him feel more comfortable waking Y/n up.

“Baby,” He says lightly, hands shaking her body softly, “Love, wake up.”

She groans under his touch, body crouching further under the bed sheets before her eyelids flutter open.

She looks at him in a raw way that makes him feel exposed, her piercing gaze striking his soul permanently.

“Where’d you go?” He asks as she sits up, blankets still wrapped tightly around her cool body.

She sighs, “I left, Lando.”

“So I heard. To go meet a man, might I add.” He says. Although, this time, it continues to be soft, but there’s a passive undertone that communicates the feeling of abandonment.

She shakes her head, “No, that’s a lie. Just like we are.”

He rears back, “Excuse me?”

His hands are wound tightly across each of her arms and they flex under her skin as the truth lingers in Lando’s ears.

Y/n groans as she pulls herself away from him, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What? Me? Us?” He adds, his body standing up and towering over her.

She mimics his movement, the sheets falling from her shoulders as she extends her limbs, “Everything, Lando. This whole situation! I was so fucking stupid to think that you being in a PR relationship while we were together was something that could work.”

Lando shrugs, “What are you talking about?! You’ve never told me it wasn’t working!”

Her jaw drops open, “You thought this was working?! You thought I was fine with you parading around outside with another girl? Something I’ve wanted for way too long!”

“Y/n, this is bullshit! It’s on you for not telling me how you were feeling!” He remarks, hands being shoved inside his pockets as they bicker back and forth.

She rubs a hand over her forehead, “No, it’s not bullshit, Lando! You’re bullshit! This whole fucking relationship is bullshit! It’s been a fucking lie from the moment it started! I don’t want to be a part of that.”

He sits back down, head in his hands as they pull at the strands, “I don’t know what to tell you, Y/n.”

She stands, vulnerable and helpless, before him as she whispers, “Do you know what it feels like to feel like the other woman when you’re supposed to be the main one? Do you know what it feels like to feel like a dirty secret, something to be ashamed of and hide from prying eyes? Do you know what it fucking feels like to feel so incredibly alone next to a man who is supposed to give you the world? It feels like shit, Lando. You make me feel like shit. You and Zak and Jon and Olivia and everyone else tied to your name. You all make me feel like shit.”

There’s a tear that falls from Lando’s eye as he wills himself to look her in the eye, “I still want to give you the entire world.”

“You can’t.”

The weight of her statement and the hard way she says it breaks him. She stopped living in delusions long ago and he stayed in a land where having her was possible.

“I’m sorry,” He says, watching her put clothes on and grab her suitcase.

“I know you are.” She responds, a beat passing before she whispers back, “I’m sorry too.”

Her definitive statement achingly stays with him as he watches her gather her things and call an Uber.

“Where are you going to go?” He says softly, almost as if breaking the silence will break them further.

“My sister’s house. You know, you remember cause I told you, she lives a few hours from here.”

He nods, “Text me when you get there?”

She stands at the door, he stands with her, and she shakes her head, “No, Lando.”

She walks out the door, Lando grabs her arm, “Is this it? I don’t understand. Are we…” He can’t bring himself to say it.

She breathes, “I’m not sure either, to be honest. I know I said I couldn’t do this anymore with you, but it’s not that easy and I know what we have. I’ve never felt this before. I just need some time and space from you, from this world. I need to decide if staying is really worth the situation I’ve been put in.”

She walks further down the hall and Lando watches her, a few more sentences lingering in his brain that has him wishing he had said them to her.

He doesn’t get a chance to say them, however.

The elevator doors close before he can get them out.

—

There’s loud cheering and sounds of yells as Lando throws off his helmet, a large smile on his face as his first race win seeps under his skin.

He throws his body into the group of his mechanics, hugging his favorite people, and when he turns, expecting to see his favorite girl, he sees Olivia instead.

He tries to hide his disappointment as he hugs her, her body not fitting the way Y/n’s had.

There’s a silence that falls upon him as he gazes upon the thousands of people yelling his name and he’s hit with a deep wave of grief.

Grieving over the loss of his best friend, the loss of his girlfriend, the loss of the love of his life, the loss of his Y/n.

Images of her dance in his head as Mark Webber ushers him over, a microphone in each hand as he smiles at him.

A memory of the time she told him all the things she loved about him because he was feeling inadequate plagues his brain as Mark congratulates him.

“Lando! Stellar job here today in Silverstone! How does it feel to have your first race win?” Mark inquires, shaking Lando’s shoulder lovingly.

Lando hesitates to answer because, frankly, it fucking sucks. He meets Jon’s eyes and the man looks as if he’s lost himself. Jon stares at him with a deep gaze, a look Lando recognizes as the way Jon looks when he’s utterly ashamed of himself. Lando can already tell what he’s about to mouth before Jon’s lips begin to move, “I’m so sorry.” He says inaudibly.

The Brit takes the three words as a green light. The confirmation he can get his girl back.

“Not great.” Lando says into the microphone, the crowds falling silent at his surprising words.

Mark frowns, “Oh? Why’s that? This is a happy day!”

Lando shakes his head as he looks down and sighs, “You know, I always thought I would be so over the moon to win my first race, but, as I stand here, a trophy awaiting me, I genuinely feel so disappointed. I feel disappointed because I’ve lost sight of the one win in my life that I lost so stupidly. My best friend, Y/n, as everyone knows her, was never my best friend. I mean, she was my best friend, but she was also my girlfriend, somebody I was incredibly in love with. Somebody I am in love with. Shit, this is so messy and so hard to condense into this short interview, but I have to say it. Olivia and I were a PR stunt. There were individuals that wanted me to be dating someone of a higher status, something Y/n doesn’t have. She was forced to sit through four months of excruciating pain because Olivia and I were being shoved in her face. Y/n is one of the strongest people I know, the fact she was able to go through that with a straight face proves that. But, I can’t let what she told me the night she left me go unsaid.” Lando looks into the camera, as cheesy as he knows it is and says what he had wanted to tell her that night as the elevator doors cut him off, “Y/n, you are not the other woman. You are not a dirty secret and you are not alone. You are the complete opposite of all those things. You are the one person I’ve ever truly loved; the one person I want to spend the rest of my life with; the one person I cannot live without; the one person that I cannot bear hurting. I’ve hurt you, I know that, a lot of people involved in this have and I hate that. I hate that I didn’t stop what was going on, fight back against what they were asking me to do. I’m so sorry. If I could redo it, I would. I would say no to it all and go public with you. I would tell you a thousand times yes that night on the sofa when you asked me if we could go public. I would do it all so differently because, maybe I didn’t before, but I know what I’ve lost now and I will fight so much harder for us, harder than I did that night you walked out because I have been in love with you for so long. I’ve waited for you my entire life, even before I knew who you were. I’ve waited for the person I ended up settling down with, waited for the person who stole my breath. I’ve waited for you and I’m not going to let that go to waste. I was dick and I took you for granted. Please let me show you that that was never the way I wanted to treat you, that I can love you better than that. Please let me back in. It’s public now, baby. Public and I don’t want that to ever change.”

Mark smiles brightly at him as the crowd behind them cheers deafeningly, “Young love, yeah?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

🏎️

Caroline sits on the arm of the couch next to Y/n, mouth agape. Y/n mirrors her expression, blanket wrapped around her legs as Lando retreats from the frame.

“What just happened?” Caroline, her sister, asks. There’s a small smile on her face as the shock wears off.

Y/n shakes her head, her hands already trying to find her phone, “I don’t know.”

The two watch as Lando is presented with his trophy, the camera zooming in on him as he mouths, “This one’s for you, love.”

Y/n is smiling so hard it’s painful and her sister watches her with delight. When the champagne spraying is done and the feed ends, Y/n leaps from the couch.

“Did you see that?!” She exclaims, giddy laughter over the one thing she had yearned for and finally got.

Caroline joins her incessant jumping, “Yes! It’s public!”

The two squeal together, but the noises are cut off when Y/n’s phone rings from between the couch cushions.

Caroline smiles before exiting the room, Lando’s contact photo lighting up her sister’s screen and cueing her leave.

However, she stays in the other room, eavesdropping without a care in the world.

Y/n picks up the phone, shaky hand bringing the device to her ear as Lando’s panting floods through the speaker.

“Y/n? Were you watching the race?” He asks.

She nods, tears in her eyes as she whispers, “Yes,”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, “So, you saw what I said?”

“Yes,”

He’s quiet for a moment, “And… what did you think?”

He hears quiet giggling on the other end of the phone and his heart soars to the sky, “You have a way with words, Lan.”

“Only with you,” He adds, smiling to himself over the girl miles away.

There’s a loud grunt and crash on his side of the phone, one that sends Y/n laughing.

“Let me guess, Olivia?” She tries to which Lando laughs.

“Right on the nail, baby.” He whispers as her yells continue.

“What do Zak and Jon think about this?” She asks after a time.

Lando tuts, “They’re glad to get rid of Olivia. Jon apologized to me the second I got off the podium. He said he wants to apologize to you too. So does Zak. They both do. They know how they went about it all was wrong and Jon went on this whole rant about seeing me as a son and how he would never want to treat his son the way he had treated me. Trust me, love, they’re as on board with this as we are.”

Y/n nods before asking quietly, “You’re on summer break now, right?”

“Yes,”

“What are your plans?”

He smiles, “Taking the first flight to you. Why?”

Y/n laughs, “I was going to ask you if I could come to Monaco, to see you, but it turns out seeing each other is a problem already solved.”

He chuckles along with her, “No, baby, you stay right where you are. It’s time I start coming to you now. Time I start showing you the lengths I’d go to to keep you in my life, to keep loving you.”

She blushes, “That speech sure accomplished that.”

His cheeks redden just like hers, “Oh, love, that’s just the beginning.”

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mclqren · 6 months

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STARTING ANEW ★ CL16

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!ex girlfriend!reader ; niall horan x fem!reader

SUMMARY ✦ when your relationship with charles ends up falling through, you find comfort in a certain singer's arms [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing, some hate comments here and there but idk if that's actually a warning

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ to preface: i usually don't write for anyone other than f1 drivers & football players, but i liked the idea of this so i decided to go ahead with it! for the plot of this, charlotte & charles broke up september 2022, and the dating timeline for charles & y/n is nov 2022-dec 2023. the logistics honestly make not a lot of sense but BARE WITH ME PLEASE. the fc i've used is hailee steinfeld, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by yourbsf, charlottesiine, and 194,310 others

tagged yourbsf

yourusername bigger and better things are coming in 2024 🪩

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user4 oh she is glowinggg!!

user5 y/n is living her best life and we love to see it!

yourbsf nyc was sooo much fun w you 😘

yourusername had the best timeee 💗💗

user6 SHE'S IN NEW YORK RN??

user7 OKAY SHE'S STRAIGHT FIREE 🔥🔥

charlottesiine you're sooo perfect! 🤍

yourusername all you cha!! 💗💗

user8 MOTHERS SPOTTED TOGETHER??

yourusername

( caption one: the only cha i need 😘 | caption two: night out 🌃 )

liked by charles_leclerc, charlottesiine, and 210,998 others

tagged charlottesiine

yourusername idk this weekend's been kinda fun!

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user13 THIS FRIENDSHIP IS SOMETHING IM ABSOLUTELY HERE FOR.

user14 charlotte x y/n WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!

user15 okay but the mysterious guy in the third pic??

user16 she's in another relationship??

user17 how has she already moved on that quickly tf... neither of them deserved charles.

user18 shut uppp!! you have no clue about y/n's personal life, for all we knew that literally COULD be charles, or it could be someone else! she should be able to do whatever she wants without some troll deciding they have a relevant opinion ❤️

charlottesiine the best weekend everrr!!

yourusername love you 💗

user19 CUTIESSS

user20 the way charles liked this ☹️☹️

user21 missing them hours

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,081,007 others

charles_leclerc testing is all doneee - let's smash the race next week!

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user22 MY OH MYYYY

user23 he knows what he's doing w those pictures of himself

user24 no real im sweating over here.

user25 sooo...are you ever going to mention the breakup??

user26 or the new pics of y/n and her mystery man??

user27 to everyone asking charles to speak on his breakup: leave him alone! it's clear him and y/n are still on good terms as they're still liking each other's insta posts, but that doesn't necessarily mean they're together! they're people too, i think we all need to just leave them alone to process their breakup ❤️

user28 okay but y/n clearly is over him?? she's already processed the breakup, so why shouldn't he have?

user29 everyone needs to honestly just leave them be. this is sooo old rn and they're probably tired of it.

carlossainz55 all ready for the new season 🏎️🏎️

charles_leclerc 👊👊

liked by charles_leclerc, niallhoran, and 190,201 others

yourusername sitting still, looking pretty! 😘💗

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user30 OH SHE'S STRAIGHT FIREEE

user31 THE DRESS THE MAKEUP IT'S ALL SO PERFECT

user32 i needdd a grwm asap ur gorgeous girl!!

user33 okay but the second pic??

user34 we already knew she was over charles?

user33 yeahhh its just so strange to see her soft launching another guy

user35 idc what anyone says i LOVE that y/n has found another man she's happy with!!

user36 sooo real for this!! she deserves all the happiness in the world 💗

charlottesiine 😍😍

yourusername chaaa!! 💗

yourusername

( caption: heyy just came on here to say that me and charles are still broken up. i’ve seen a lot of rumours floating around the internet about the nature of our relationship, and while it is no one’s business except our own, i would like to just say that the break up, as previously stated, WAS mutual & we are still friends. mine and charlotte’s friendship also seems to be coming under a lot of fire recently, for whatever reason. she is an amazing woman and has been so supportive during this time of my life, so i kindly ask you stop bashing us on social media for simply being friends. thank you to all of the people sending me lovely messages - ur support isn’t going unnoticed 💗 )

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tagged niallhoran

yourusername the best thing life could've thrown at me 💗

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niallhoran and who's that handsome fella 😘

yourusername just some annoying irish guy i met, idk how to get rid of him

yourbsf Y/N!! 😍

yourusername MY REAL LOVER 😘

charles_leclerc ❤️

yourusername 💗💗

charlottesiine me when i have to third wheel now ☹️

yourusername no neverrr ur my baby angel he can third wheel us 😍

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flanaganfilm · 6 months

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howdy!! do you rewatch your own work? if so, how often? im wondering if it has the same "artist just sees faults with what they create" thing, or if youre able to appreciate past projects the way they deserve

I don't, typically... usually, by the time we're finished with post production, I've seen the thing so many times that I'm thrilled to stop watching it. I'm either sick of it, or just feeling like it doesn't belong to me anymore. There are other reasons, too - Hill House was a traumatic production for me, for example, I have a lot of complicated emotions woven into it, so I haven't felt ready to rewatch that one since before it aired. Maybe in a few more years.

Somewhat recently, I've revisited a few of the older movies with my eldest son, who is 13 now. He's basically as old as my career itself. We've watched Oculus, Hush, The Midnight Club (which he LOVED, proving it worked for our target audience) and Ouija: OOE together, and each of those screenings was a really cool experience. His reactions and questions were really fascinating, and I felt like I was able to see those movies anew through his eyes. That's the closest I've come to feeling like I was really seeing them, and that's only because so much time has gone by for those. I watched the Director's Cut of Doctor Sleep a few years back at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park Colorado. It was part of a live NoSleep Podcast event, and that was the first time I'd seen that movie since it was released. It was also the first and only time I'd ever seen the Director's Cut with an audience. That was a really special screening and it meant a lot to me.

I haven't yet had the guts to revisit any of the TV series other than Midnight Club. As my kids get older, I'm sure I'll watch them all with them. The one I'm most excited to see is Midnight Mass, which remains my favorite of the shows. I haven't seen it since before it came out - I remember the last day of post on that show, watching down each episode with final mix and color. That's a series I wish I could actually watch like a viewer at home, and while I'll never truly be able to do that, I look forward to looking at it with some real distance.

There are a few of the older projects I'd be curious to watch now. I wonder how Absentia holds up - I was such a baby when we made that movie, and it's been so long. I imagine I could watch that today and have a really trippy experience. I also haven't revisited Before I Wake in a very long time, and I always really loved that script. The movie was a rough road, and my feelings were mixed by the time it finally found its finish line (Relativity Media really beat that one up), but that could also be a really interesting viewing experience at this stage of my career.

But generally, each of these movies is a journey, and once the journey is over it's tough to ever really go back. There's little point, and moving forward feels like a matter of survival. The "finished product" is only the tip of a large, deep, labyrinthian iceberg for me. It's impossible to only see what's on the surface, no matter how hard I try.

(Interesting side-note: The only exception I've found to this rule is The Life of Chuck. We just finished post production on the movie, and I've watched it dozens and dozens of times now - but I've never grown tired of it, not even a little bit. That movie is something special, and I am eager to watch it again - and again - and again. I don't know that I'll ever want distance from that one; in fact, watching it brings me a sense of joy, comfort, and safety.)

#midnight mass #the fall of the house of usher #the haunting of hill house #the midnight club #doctor sleep #the haunting of bly manor #ouija origin of evil #oculus #before i wake #absentia #ouija: origin of evil #gerald's game

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ginnsbaker · 11 months

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In Silent Screams (1/3)

Chapter word count: 10.3k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision Tags: Mentions of Smut (F/M), Cheating, Angst, Gaslighting

Notes: This will follow the events of IFISS (not strictly) but in Wanda's POV. Check the tags, you've been warned. This is not rated M, but feel free to skip parts you feel uncomfortable with.

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part I

It’s all happening very fast and she’s hardly keeping pace.

You and Wanda have cleared the apartment you've shared for over five years. The boxes are loaded onto the moving truck, while more personal items are safely packed away in the trunk and rear seats. You're in the building's administrative office, addressing the bills and finalizing other necessities before the move, while Wanda waits for you, sitting on the floor in the middle of what used to be the living room.

Sparky darts around the room, the vastness of the deserted space giving him room to play. Every so often, he looks up at Wanda, his tail wagging, perhaps sensing the change that's about to come. Wanda's gaze follows the little dog, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, grateful for his company.

Every corner of this apartment held a memory—from the faded mark on the kitchen wall where Wanda accidentally spilled red wine, to the tiny dent on the living room floor, after Sparky ran into it during a rough playtime with you. Packing up wasn’t just about boxing items; it felt like carefully wrapping up fragments of time, every piece a memory filed away, never to be recovered ever again.

Though the accumulation of belongings over the years had made the space feel a tad cramped, and a move to a larger place seemed the logical next step, Wanda was deeply nostalgic about leaving behind this chapter. It marked the end of an era for you both—the days of being a young, hopeful couple in love. But at the same time, Wanda also held onto the hope that maybe starting anew somewhere would be good, especially since the past few months have been rocky, with her failed attempts to get pregnant and her stagnant career. Maybe a fresh environment would ease some of that pain, she thought.

The trail leading up to this new chapter, however, is characterized by your increasing hours at the office, overshadowing the time spent at the apartment. Yet, it's this very commitment that led to your promotion just two weeks ago, sparking the unexpected decision to move to an unfamiliar town in New Jersey.

As the reality of the situation sinks in, Wanda feels as if life is moving at an almost dizzying pace. Everything is changing so quickly: your recent promotion, the emotional roller-coaster of trying for a baby, and now the looming move. It’s been more than a lot to take in.

Your footsteps, a soft thud against the wooden floor, break the quiet, drawing Wanda from her deep thoughts.

“Ready to go?”

She turns towards you, her eyes slightly misty, and whispers, “Just one more minute.”

Understanding her need to linger, you cross the room and lower yourself beside her. “Are you okay?” you ask.

Nodding, she takes a deep breath, as if trying to inhale every memory, every scent of the place she's called home for so long. “Yeah. I just need a moment to say goodbye.”

Gently, you squeeze her shoulder, drawing her gaze to meet yours. “You know, it's not really goodbye,” you murmur, trying to reassure her. “Scott promised it’s temporary, so there's a good chance we could be back here in Manhattan.”

Wanda turns to face you, her eyes searching yours for any hint that you're merely telling her what she wants to hear. You consistently strive to make her happy, aiming to shield her from distress. It's a trait she adores about you, though it can slightly irritate her at times. But right now—

“You really think we might come back?” she asks.

You nod firmly. “Absolutely. Manhattan is where we built so many of our memories, and it will always be a part of us. Westview is just a chapter, not the whole story.”

—right now she appreciates your ability to ground her with your words.

She laughs a bit, dabbing at her eyes. “God, I've fallen so hard for this place.”

“Me too,” you say, giving in to the urge to kiss her forehead. After all these years, and despite being married for a while, you still constantly seek reasons to be near her, to touch her. “But wherever we’ll go, we’ll make it our own.”

Wanda decides to christen the first day in your new home by making love on the living room floor, and you're as eager to indulge her. It's short and sweet, straightforward in its intensity. You’re both already attuned to each other's bodies, and she knows precisely where to touch, how to curl her fingers to draw out those soft, sultry moans she always finds so enticing.

The shadows created by the fire dance across the walls, mirroring the boxes scattered all around, each labeled and awaiting their turn to be unpacked and settled into this new space. Wanda absentmindedly rakes her fingers through your hair, your head cushioned on her warm, pillowy chest as you sleepily hum a song. Every scratch sends tingles down your spine, adding to the lethargy pulling at your eyelids.

“'Fade Into You' by Mazzy Star,” Wanda says softly, recognizing the tune.

You give a soft, drowsy chuckle. “You always know. Remember that tiny café near your dorm? They played it on a loop. It was drizzling outside, and we had that ridiculously oversized shared umbrella.”

Wanda smiles at the memory. “How could I forget? We sat there for hours, sipping on our lattes and listening to that song. And we weren’t even together then.”

Drawing a deep breath, you let out a contented sigh, murmuring, “Yeah, but I was already so deeply in love with you then.”

Wanda scrunches her nose and smirks, teasingly retorting, “That's really cheesy.”

You grin, nuzzling further into her, feeling her heart's rhythmic beat beneath your ear. “Doesn't make it any less true,” you whisper.

Wanda would later reflect on this memory, wishing she had held onto it more tightly, especially since it marked the true beginning of something withering inside of her.

Westview isn't quite the place Wanda envisioned. Instead of offering an escape from the unresolved threads of both your lives, it feels more like trading one cage for another. The town pulses with its own set of peculiarities, a rhythm and routine foreign to her. She's ambivalent about it. Sees it only as a brief interlude, a temporary concession she's making to support your career endeavors.

The demands of your job appear to be greater than either of you anticipated. As she's finishing up the first dish she's prepared for the evening, you call her midday to say you won't be home for dinner.

It's not the first or even the third instance. She refrains from keeping tally because she doesn't want to be that kind of wife. However, she's certain it's happened more than just a few times. Wanda tries to hide the disappointment from her voice, assuring you it's fine and that she understands. But as she hangs up the phone, a sensation that's become all too familiar washes over her.

She finds herself drifting towards the window, gazing out at the street below, lost in thought. She's never been one to demand all of your time, but this—it's the first time she's felt so small and insignificant. Aside from that first day when you both made love on every possible surface, there hasn't been a moment recently where you've shown interest in being that adventurous again. You both promised never to become that type of couple. Yet now, she's tormented by the thought: maybe you no longer find her as attractive as you used to, or perhaps you've come to realize some latent disappointment in her.

But everytime you come back in the quiet of the night, pulling her close, kissing her neck, and nestling into her hair, you dispel all her doubts. Wanda's only learning now how exhausting and powerless it could feel to need someone this much.

One particular night, mirroring the many late evenings before, you arrive home to find Wanda watching television in the living room. Both of you are thrilled to see each other awake, rather than just you returning to a warm, sleeping body next to your (cold) side of the bed.

Wanda's hair is slightly tousled, eyes glazed from the weariness of the day, but they light up when they meet yours. The corners of her lips curl into a small, sluggish smile. “You're home,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and longing.

You shed your coat, moving towards the couch and sitting down beside her. “I missed you,” you admit, running a gentle hand through her hair.

She leans into your touch, her body molding against yours. “I've been trying to stay awake lately, just hoping I might get to see you before drifting off,” Wanda says. “Tell me about your day.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process the day's events. “Same old, same old,” you say, putting your head on her shoulder. “Tight deadlines. And you won't believe this, but Janet, my secretary, she's going on maternal leave sooner than expected. So the office... well, they decided to throw something together last minute.”

She sits up a bit. “So you weren't held up because of work, but because of a party?”

“Uh, yeah. I think I mentioned it in my text?”

“I didn't get any message about…” Wanda trails off, taking a moment to steady herself. You’ve barely seen each other in the past week. The last thing she wants is to lash out on you.

But instead of noticing her distress and apologizing, or recognizing how your consecutive absences have affected her, you're fixated on pulling out your phone, scrolling through your messages, to… what? To prove to her that you mentioned it in your text?

“I sent you a text. I swear, I mentioned it,” you mumble. After a few more seconds, you let out a sigh of exasperation, showing her the screen where the message lays unsent. “The message failed to send... I thought you knew.”

Wanda looks at the screen and then back at you, her gaze softening slightly. “It happens,” she says with a soft smile.

“I'm sorry, Wanda,” you admit, placing the phone down. “Yes, it was a gathering, and I should've double-checked or called.”

She shakes her head, her fingers brushing against your cheek, just happy to be touching you. “I’m not mad. I just miss you, that's all.”

You take her hand in yours, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I miss you too. So bad.”

Wanda shifts slightly, trying to get more comfortable in the embrace. “Did you have fun, at least?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you reply with an enthusiastic nod. “It was great catching up with everyone, especially Janet. Did you know she only got married a year ago? And they're already expecting. It's amazing how quickly things happen for some people.”

Wanda's expression, which had been soft and open, changes almost imperceptibly. The brightness in her eyes dims a little, and there's a slight tensing of her lips, a subtle sign of the pain you unknowingly inflicted. You love her, yet at times you unintentionally wound her deeply without even realizing it. Wanda doesn't know how that can be, but in this moment, it feels truer than ever.

“She's really excited,” you continue, oblivious to the change in your wife’s demeanor. “They weren't even really trying. It just... happened. I'm happy for her, genuinely.”

Wanda nods, swallowing hard. “That's... that's great for them,” she says, forcing a smile. She withdraws from your hold, rising from the couch. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

This time, you notice the hardened look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It's nothing,” she replies with a faint, unconvincing smile. “Just tired.”

“Wanda—”

“Good night.”

You hold back, not pushing her for answers. She stops briefly at the base of the stairs, shoulders drooping. Then, with a heavy sigh, she slowly makes her way up, each step looking like it takes more effort than the last.

The computer screen shines a relentless blue glow onto her face.

As the weeks pass, she sees fewer and fewer unread emails, fewer blinking notifications. The heart of the art world has always thrummed with in-person interactions, art deals solidified by firm handshakes, cocktail parties filled with patrons looking to be swayed by a charismatic gallery curator, and the intimate closeness that comes from viewing a painting together and discussing its merits. Video calls, as efficient as they are, don't capture the nuance of human emotion and instinct in the same way.

Sometimes she dreams of being back in the thick of it all, surrounded by masterpieces and dizzying energy. Westview, however, is quaint, almost eerily so. It has its charms, its local coffee shops and small art scenes, but it's a far cry from the scenes of the big city.

She feels her importance at the gallery dwindling. She can't fault them; many of the responsibilities demand her physical presence. Currently, she can only manage to send crucial emails and direct calls and messages from essential patrons, sponsors, and others integral to the gallery's ecosystem. Her power of persuasion doesn't translate as effectively one email at a time.

Wanda has always enjoyed playing to her strengths, particularly when meeting artists in person, where she can swiftly adapt her tactics based on the reactions of her audience, all while maintaining her self-assured demeanor, knowing that she carries a natural charm. However, being stuck in this town has taken that from her.

Feeling the stirrings of frustration rise in her gut, Wanda steps away from the table and retrieves her cellphone. She stares at it like it’s her salvation, contemplating whether to make the call. She needs someone to talk to, someone who knows her, someone who won't judge.

She dials Agatha's number.

The phone rings a few times before a familiar voice, which once irked her but now only deepens her homesickness, answers.

“Wanda, dear! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Wanda tries to muster her energy to match Agatha's, but a hint of her distress manages to seep through. “Hi, I'm—I'm doing well. How about you?”

“Great,” Agatha replies cheerfully, but then her voice drops, “What's troubling you?”

“Nothing,” Wanda tells her quickly. A soft “hm” emanates from Agatha's end, followed by a silence that feels hefty, but not oppressive. It's the kind of silence that invites confession, though with a gossip-driven curiosity.

“It's this place,” Wanda starts, “It's not what I expected. I thought being here would give me space to breathe, a fresh start, but instead, I feel... trapped. Isn't it ironic? I have all this open space around me, but I feel more confined than ever.”

Agatha sighs, a knowing lilt in her voice. “Look, we've been in this rat race long enough. New city, new job, new whatever—it's all the same cycle, just different packaging. Maybe this detachment you're feeling? It's a cue. A chance to rethink... everything.”

Wanda arches an eyebrow, though Agatha can't see it. “What are you saying?” Sparky trots towards her, mewling. Wanda briefly flashes him a smile before scratching him behind his ears.

Agatha's voice grows sharper, more incisive. “I’m saying that maybe you haven’t really given your new town a chance because you’re holding on tightly on a rope to the past. I'm saying maybe the gallery, as much as it's been your lifeline, is now your anchor. Dragging you down. Ever thought of cutting the cord?”

Wanda's heart races. “You mean quit? Just like that?”

A snort from Agatha. “Why not? What's it giving you right now? A title? Perks? Or just a nostalgia trip and a daily reminder of what used to be?”

Wanda is silent, grappling with the blunt reality Agatha’s laying out. The realization that maybe she's clinging to a past that doesn't fit her present is daunting.

“Look, Wanda,” Agatha continues, softer now, “it's just business. The gallery won't sink without you, and maybe you'll find a version of yourself you didn't know existed without it. Westview’s a new board. Play it.”

The house is enormous for two people and a small dog. The vastness of the space should thrill her, yet it amplifies her loneliness. Your early departures and late returns leave her lingering in the expanse, waiting for life to unfold. The sparkling countertops, the polished floors—she's cleaned them over twice this week, a feeble attempt to occupy her time, to feel some semblance of accomplishment.

But what's the point when, at the end of it all, it feels like nothing?

Wanda's eyes flutter open as she hears the familiar, albeit late, sound of the front door clicking shut. Recently, her sleep has been light, so even your softest footfalls register in her consciousness. She remains still, her back turned to the bedroom door, her breathing deliberate and even. The sounds of shuffling reach her ears: the rustle of clothes, a muted sigh, the faint creak of a floorboard.

The bed shifts, dips, as you ease yourself beside her. The silence stretches, becoming palpable, thick. And then, a whisper, soft and low, bathed in regret. “Wanda?”

She doesn’t respond, biting back the words she wants to unleash, the lack of purpose and direction she feels these days. The longing in her eyes, if you could see it, would tear right through you.

It's been five nights in a row. Five nights of cool sheets and colder silences.

Moments later, she feels you trace your fingers over the bare curve of her arm. “I'm sorry,” you whisper, every word dripping with the weariness of corporate warfare and personal neglect. “Missed you. Like you wouldn't believe.”

You press a tender kiss to her hair and Wanda holds her breath. “I promise, I'll make it right,” you say, your voice a mere breath against her ear. “We'll find our way back. I just... I need a bit more time.” Nestled against her, the familiar contours of her body will always be your home, and soon the demands of the past days pull you into a deep slumber.

Yet, for Wanda, sleep remains out of reach. Despite your assurances, a gnawing uncertainty has taken root in her heart. She craves your company, but she also harbors a growing resentment that she’s been trying to deny ever since she set foot in this forsaken town.

Not for the first time this year, Wanda wonders if you can really love someone deeply and yet blame them for the things in your life that make you unhappy.

The rain pelts down on Westview’s streets, the usually quiet lanes now slick with water and glistening under the sporadic streetlights. Wanda’s pace quickens, her umbrella slipping from her loose grip when an unforeseen splash from a passing car leaves her utterly soaked.

“Hey!” she shouts out, more from shock than anger. But the car drives on, indifferent to the trail of mess it's left behind. She's in the process of assessing the damage—wet strands of hair plastering to her face and her shirt now ruined – when he appears. A young man with strikingly bleached hair, seeming unaffected by the god-awful weather.

“You look like you're having a day,” he remarks, his voice carrying an amused lilt. With a confident stride, he approaches her. He’s tall—almost a foot taller than her. “Here, this might help,” he says, already moving to the trunk of his parked car nearby.

She watches him, curious and a tad skeptical. It's not every day a stranger offers assistance, especially in pouring rain. But this one is already producing a neatly folded tee from the trunk. “I hit the gym quite a bit. Always have a spare,” he explains, flashing a grin.

Wanda hesitates, her gaze shifting from the shirt to him and back. Up close, he appears younger than she initially perceived. “Thanks,” she murmurs, accepting the shirt. There's an odd sincerity in his eyes that makes her trust him, if only for this fleeting moment.

“How about a drink? To warm you up. And perhaps, as a small token of thanks for letting me play the good samaritan today,” he says. She arches an eyebrow, surprised by his boldness. Most people would've stopped at the shirt. Had this conversation taken place in Manhattan, Wanda would have already left with a sharp remark about his bold attempt to engage her in conversation. But here and now, she can't quite pinpoint why she hasn't brushed him off as she usually would have by this point.

Despite her initial reluctance, she finds herself smiling. You're the only person she's spoken to since arriving in Westview. She's so starved for a bit of normalcy that maybe a chat with a stranger might do the trick. After all, he's just a kid. She could regard him as a nephew or something similar.

“Alright,” she concedes, “just one drink.”

Within the first minute, Wanda learns his name: Victor Shade. However, he prefers the nickname ‘Vision’, which Wanda finds a tad whimsical. They find a cozy booth in a tucked-away corner, shielding them from potential prying eyes passing by the restaurant. While Wanda didn't plan to keep their meeting a secret, Vision naturally guided her to the more discreet spot.

“So, Wanda,” Vision begins, taking a sip of his drink, “What brought you to town? It doesn't seem like the most obvious choice for someone like you.”

Wanda looks at him, intrigued. “Someone like me? What does that mean?”

He chuckles, “Well, from our short interaction, you seem like someone who's seen bigger cities, more happening places. Westview is... charming, but quiet.”

“Same could be said about you. You don't exactly scream 'small town boy' either,” Wanda says.

Vision's eyebrows rise playfully, feigning offense. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Your confidence,” she retorts with a smirk. “It's loud, almost deafening. It echoes big city vibes.”

He laughs, nodding in concession. “Touche.”

As their conversation progresses, Wanda begins to see him less as a kid and more as a well-read, intriguing individual, particularly when Vision reveals he's an art major, his eyes lighting up as he talks about his passion for Renaissance art and postmodernism.“I graduated with a degree in art,” she shares, her own memories of university flooding back. She recounts stories of late-night classes and the exhilaration of her first gallery show. They bond over favorite artists and art movements, finding shared preferences and amusing disagreements. It's a pleasant surprise for Wanda to discover that, out of all the people in Westview, the first one she genuinely converses with is someone with whom she shares so much in common.

Yet, as she's engaging with Vision, a tiny voice at the back of her mind keeps drawing comparisons between him and you. The way you and Wanda communicate is so fundamentally different. You lean heavily on the left, analytical and logical in your thinking. Your conversations with Wanda often revolve around structured debates, dissecting topics with precision and care, always seeking the root cause or solution. Wanda, on the other hand, leans more to the right, driven by creativity and emotion. She loves diving into abstract concepts, weaving narratives and ideas with passion.

You and Wanda did find common interests and topics that you both enjoy. Over the years, you've had countless meaningful moments where you both found yourselves talking for hours on end. But the rapport she's building with Vision is something she hasn't felt in a long while, or perhaps ever, even with you. It's not necessarily better or worse; it's just different, and it takes her by surprise.

At one point, Vision’s gaze falls upon the glint of Wanda's wedding ring, reflecting the ambient light of the restaurant. “You're married,” he observes, not as a question but a statement.

Wanda hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Yes, I am.”

Vision looks at her, searching for something in her eyes. “Does he know you're out with a stranger?”

“She,” Wanda corrects instinctively, her cheeks warming as she notices his eyes sparkle with heightened interest, then she adds, “She probably wouldn't mind. We trust each other. Besides, it's just a drink with a friend, right?”

He smiles, raising his glass. “To friendship.”

For the first time, she arrives home later than you that night. Wanda finds you in the living room, curled up on the couch, a remote in hand, and an empty wine glass on the table beside you.

As the door clicks shut, you turn, and your eyes clouded with surprise as you meet hers. “Hey,” you murmur, the TV's remote paused mid-air, “Wasn't expecting you this late.”

Wanda shrugs, unsure of how to convey the unexpected turn her day had taken. She hangs her coat and moves towards the living room, her shoes making soft tapping noises against the wooden floor. “Ran into someone... from college,” she half-lies, the omission of Vision's identity a deliberate choice. Not out of guilt, but more a protective instinct to keep the evening's serendipitous meeting to herself.

“Oh? How was that?”

“It was... nice. Different,” Wanda replies, picking her words with care. She can sense your gaze on her, trying to piece together the puzzle, and she quickly adds, “We just grabbed a drink, caught up. You know how it is.”

You nod slowly, the lines of your face softening. “Good. You needed that. This move... it's been hard on you.” The acknowledgment feels like a balm, and Wanda gives you a small, appreciative smile. She’s about to head upstairs when your voice stops her in her tracks.

“That's a... unique shirt you've got there,” you comment. She turns around slowly to face you and sees a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Wanda glances down at the shirt she's wearing, an admittedly garish tee that's far from her usual style. “Some idiot in a car decided I looked better drenched,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “This was the only option the nearby store had.”

It's her third lie of the evening, and Wanda can't explain why she keeps doing it.

“Well, I've got to say, it's a look. You're absolutely killing it,” you tease, a bit sarcastically.

Wanda snorts, the tightness in her chest loosening a little. “Oh, shut it.” She can't help but smile. “You're one to talk. Remember that hideous Christmas sweater you insisted on wearing last year?”

Ah, a challenge. You rise from your spot on the couch, taking a deliberate step towards her. “That was festive. This is... rebellious?” you guess, tracing a finger in the air around the outlines of her new shirt. “You pulling a midlife crisis on me, Mrs. Maximoff?”

She blushes, but whether from the memory of the car incident or your close proximity, it's hard to tell. “It's just a shirt,” she retorts, but her voice cracks and the light in her eyes betrays her amusement.

Your fingers itch to brush against the fabric of her shirt, to maybe pull her closer. “You know,” you murmur, voice low, “you could make even a potato sack look sexy.”

Wanda bites her lower lip, her breath catching just slightly. She revels in the banter, the space between yourselves shrinking with every heartbeat. She finds herself lost in the pull, but a gnawing unease lingers, making her wary. Just then, Sparky comes out of nowhere, sprinting and eventually running into Wanda’s leg. His tail wags a mile a minute, pleading for Wanda to shower him with affection. Grateful for the interruption, Wanda quickly shifts her attention, bending down to indulge the spirited pup. “Missed me, did you, Sparks?”

You try to mask your disappointment, but the subtle change in your expression isn't lost on her, even as she pointedly looks away.

Nights following her meeting with Vision find Wanda restless. It isn’t necessarily Vision himself that haunts her thoughts, but rather their impassioned discussion on art (and just about anything). She realizes, with a sharp pang, how deeply she misses the world that served as her refuge for years when she sought to escape her own reality.

With a renewed sense of purpose, she heads to Westview Institute of Arts and Sciences, seeking a place where her passion and expertise could be valuable.

Hours later, she gets an email inviting her for an interview with the dean. Apparently, the school has been looking for an assistant professor for the past several months now.

A week later, they offer her the position, and she talks to you about it shortly after sending them the signed letter of acceptance.

Her first day at the school is all kinds of awkward, likely more so than her first day as a student years ago. The university building looks massive for being in such a remote, out-of-the-way town. All around, there's a crowd of young students bustling about, their laughter and conversations filling the crisp, morning air.

Among them, Wanda stands, momentarily frozen—an outsider looking in. She wears a chic black ensemble: slacks, a blazer, and a turtleneck, hoping to conceal the anxiety that's making it difficult for her to keep her breakfast down. However, as she's introduced to a few of the other professors, her resolve wavers. They're in more casual attire, and she can't help but feel a tad overdressed, sticking out like a meticulously painted stroke on an empty canvas.

She doesn't get to meet her students immediately. Instead, her day is consumed by orientation processes, faculty meetings, and an extensive tour of the sprawling campus. Every time she turns a corner or meets someone new, a mix of excitement and jitters rushes through her. The enormity of the responsibility she's shouldering, coupled with the fact that she's never taught anyone before (not even tutored)—it's both intimidating and thrilling all at once.

It's been a while since she's felt this alive, apart from the rare times when you're home on time, or when she gets to spend an entire day with you. But this? This is the first time in ages that something beyond the comfort of your love has rekindled a spark in her, reminding Wanda of a part of herself she had almost forgotten.

At the end of her first day, Wanda does meet one of her students.

Technically, she has met him before, but it was in the context of a friendly stranger who lent her his shirt when she needed it the most. When Vision told her that he was an art student, she didn't actually expect to find him attending the same university. She had assumed he was from the city and just passing through.

(Perhaps it’s her silliest assumption she's made to date but—it is what it is.)

“Aren't you a pleasant surprise,” Vision says, rolling down the window of his Mustang. When his voice reaches her, it's distinctly out of place, an unexpected ripple in her carefully mapped out day.

She swallows hard, resisting the urge to take a step back, “Vision, I wasn't expecting to see you here.”

He grins, the sunlight catching the edges of his aviator glasses. “It's a small world, or rather, a small university.” He tilts his head playfully, “Wait... are you...?”

Wanda cuts him off, “Let's just say, I'm exploring my options here.”

A pause ensues, both understanding the unsaid implications.

“You know,” Vision starts, leaning against his car, “I'd heard there was a new, 'exceptionally dressed' professor in town. Just didn't piece it together that it would be you.”

“It's a small world,” she murmurs, her face a shade paler.

He seems to sense her discomfort and remarks, “I suppose this changes everything.”

Wanda sighs, “It's just... I need to maintain a certain decorum here. It would be inappropriate if—”

“—If I turned out to be one of your students,” he finishes for her. His smirk is replaced by a milder expression. “Don't worry. Whatever our relationship outside this campus, I respect boundaries. And I expect you do too.”

She nods, appreciative of his maturity. “Thank you, Vision.”

Before she can fully turn away, Vision snaps his fingers together. “Oh, by the way, you left something with me from last time. Your shirt? The shirt you had to change out of?”

Wanda's face reddens slightly at the memory. “I completely forgot about that. Do you have it?”

Vision points with a thumb over his shoulder towards his car. “Wait a second. It's in the back.” He moves to retrieve the shirt, but after rummaging for a few moments, he frowns. “I could have sworn I left it here…”

He removes his sunglasses, allowing his gaze to lift in thought, revealing the unnaturally vibrant blue of his eyes to Wanda. “Ah, I remember now. It's in my laundry bag, which I took to my apartment.”

“It's fine. You can give it back another time,” Wanda says.

But Vision, with that same gleam in his eyes, counters, “Why not just come with me and get it now? It's a short drive.”

She bites her lip, thinking. On one hand, she'd rather not prolong their interaction given the new dynamics. On the other, it might be best to just get it over with. “I'm not sure…”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “I promise it's just a shirt, Professor.”

The inclusion of the title almost brings a smile to her face. “Alright,” Wanda gives in, “But only if it’s quick. And remember, as far as the university is concerned, we’re merely acquaintances.”

“Technically, you haven’t met your class yet. And as of now, I’m not your student,” he points out with an innocent shrug.

The logic is sound, though it does little to quell the anxiety bubbling within Wanda. She nods, exhaling deeply. “Let’s go.”

They drive to Vision’s apartment building, the journey marked by fleeting glances and a silence that's not entirely comfortable. He attempts to dispel the tension, “I've washed and ironed the shirt for you. Hope that's alright.”

She looks over, surprised by the gesture. “Thank you, that's... unexpected.”

As she sits in the passenger seat of Vision’s car, Wanda inadvertently starts picking up on the small details surrounding her. She notices the immaculate interior of the car—not a stray piece of litter, every surface gleaming. There's a fresh, clean scent permeating the space, a subtle hint of citrus perhaps. It's not the typical aroma one would expect from a college student's car. She thinks of the younger people she's known and how their vehicles often doubled as chaotic storage spaces, littered with discarded clothes, takeaway containers, and the musty scent of overdue laundry.

When they arrive at his apartment, it further exemplifies this meticulousness. Sketches, paintings, and art supplies are neatly arranged, yet the area feels lived-in, warm, not sterile. It's easy to forget he's just 21. He exudes an aura of maturity that doesn’t align with his years. If they had met under different circumstances, and if she hadn’t known his age, she would have pegged him for someone much older, someone who's seen more, experienced more.

“Your shirt,” Vision says, pulling it out from a cupboard—neatly folded, rather than from the laundry bag he remembered earlier. “As promised.”

As Wanda accepts it, her fingers brush against a freshly painted canvas. The vibrant colors smear slightly under her touch.

“Oh! I'm so sorry,” she exclaims, pulling her hand back.

Vision waves it off, “No worries. Sometimes accidents lead to the best kind of art.”

He then looks contemplative for a moment before posing a question, “You know, Picasso once said, 'Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.' What do you think of that?”

The randomness of it throws her off for a second, before she regards him with a thoughtful look. “Well, in a way, creation and destruction aren't opposing forces. One can be a precursor to the other. To create something new, often something old has to give way.”

Vision's eyes light up, clearly pleased by her response. “Exactly! It's like when you're sketching. Sometimes, you have to erase an entire section just to rework it. And often, the second attempt is much better than the first.”

They continue discussing, each statement leading to another topic, and another. After a while, Vision hesitates before making a bold request, “Wanda, would you... would you mind if I sketched you? Just for practice. You have such unique features, and it'd be a challenge for me.”

“Trying to butter up your professor already?” It comes out a bit flirtatious by accident, and Wanda struggles to retract it.

He nods, a little sheepishly. “Only if you're comfortable. It’s just... our discussion has inspired me.”

Wanda laughs lightly, unable to deny that the notion does flatter her.. “Alright, but only for a bit. I'm not exactly dressed for a portrait.”

“You are…” Vision murmurs almost too quietly to hear, his eyes already fixed on his sketchpad. But Wanda still catches it, and a faint blush tints her cheeks. Vision gets to work. In this moment, she's both his muse and his critic, and for a brief while, a hushed silence envelops the room.

However, as the minutes tick by, Wanda begins to feel increasingly restless beneath his studious, penetrating gaze. She tries to keep her posture, attempting to appear at ease, but her muscles gradually tighten in response to his intent focus. There’s a kind of intimacy in being observed so closely that she wasn’t quite prepared for.

“Can you tilt your head just a bit to the left?” he asks, never lifting his gaze from the page. She obliges. Moments later, “A little to the right now, and chin up. Perfect.”

Wanda obeys, adjusting her position to his liking. But it's a stray strand of hair that falls onto her forehead that really tests her composure. Vision notices it immediately. “Could you brush that hair away, please?” he asks.

She reaches up, trying to tuck it behind her ear, but it stubbornly returns to its original position. Frowning in mild irritation, she tries again but with the same result.

Vision chuckles softly. “Stay still,” he murmurs, placing his sketchpad to the side. He carefully rises from his seat and approaches her, eyes never leaving her face. “I'll fix it.”

Heart inexplicably racing, Wanda can't comprehend why she obeys so willingly, remaining motionless as Vision's fingertips ghost near her face. The distance between them becomes almost negligible as his face hovers mere inches from hers. She can feel the warmth of his breath, see the earnest concentration in his eyes. Slowly, ever so gently, his fingers brush the errant strand away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “There we go,” Vision whispers.

But instead of retreating, he lingers. She watches as Vision's eyes flutter closed, and he begins to lean in. She's teetering at the precipice of something that can't be taken back, and she’s horrified to discover a part of her that wants to give in.

Shaking herself out of the trance, she manages to whisper with a tremble in her voice, “I... I have to go.” Her words cut through the moment like a knife, yet Vision remains close, eyes searching hers as he softly challenges, “Are you sure?”

That simple question, laden with suggestion, irks Wanda. This was more than just an innocent sketching session. Irritation builds as she understands what he might have been attempting. In her haste to distance herself, she stands abruptly, accidentally brushing his face with her head. She doesn't apologize, too focused on gathering her belongings.

Vision, realizing his mistake, scrambles to his feet, “Wanda, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—”

But she cuts him off, hand already on the door handle. “I'll see you in class, Mr. Shade.”

Wanda doesn't know how you managed to convince her to shower together one morning.

To be fair, you didn't make much of an effort to persuade her, and she was more than willing to participate. Perhaps it's because life has been an unending whirlwind lately, a blur of responsibilities and ever-mounting pressure. Her fresh endeavor into academia had consumed much of her waking hours, leaving her mentally drained by the end of the day. You, on the other hand, seemed perpetually buried under a mountain of paperwork and late-night calls.

It's not an excuse, of course, but these realities have inadvertently wedged a distance between the two of you. So, on that fateful morning, when you followed her into the bathroom, you were a woman on a mission. But as you wordlessly entered the shower, a certain determination evident in your stride, Wanda felt the need to object. Her protest, however, was cut short. The feel of your lips on hers, possessive and demanding, effectively silenced her. Her knees threatened to give way, and if not for the firm grip you had on her waist, she might have collapsed. Instead, she melted into your arms, letting you take the lead, and well—

That resulted in her losing nearly half of her students for her first class of the day because they believed she wouldn't show up after being nearly twenty minutes late.

“That can’t happen again,” Wanda told you.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

It occurs a few more times before she intentionally begins waking up before your alarm goes off. Wanda misses her wife, but she misses the life you both left behind even more. And despite finding satisfaction in her new career, she can’t seem to stop resenting you for that.

Her period is a week late, but Wanda isn't worried. You both stopped trying to conceive before coming to New Jersey. However, it does remind her of something else she had to let go of and how it felt like you gave up on her too easily for comfort.

The stress from her new job eventually begins to take a toll on her. Stacks of papers sprawl across the table, some marked with red ink, others waiting to be perused. Her hand moves methodically, adjusting her notes, reviewing her questions, ensuring every detail is in place for the impending exam. Her back protests from the hours spent in the same position, her eyes blink away the fatigue, but she's determined to finalize every last bit. It takes a few more moments before she finishes editing her students’ first examination. It's late—far too late for her to still be at the university, but a sense of accomplishment washes over her.

In the middle of soaking up her minor achievement for the day, she suddenly remembers Sparky. He's been left for hours, with just water, and that she's supposed to get groceries for him this afternoon. Shit, Wanda curses breathily, hurrying her movements.

She's about to shut her laptop when she hears a knock on the door. Thinking it's the security guard, she quickly rehearses her plea for just a few more minutes. However, when she opens the door, she's staring into the all-too-familiar blue eyes of Vision.

Wanda takes an involuntary step back, her pulse quickening. “Mr. Shade,” she greets, an uncharacteristic iciness in her voice.

He looks equally surprised, “Wan—Professor Maximoff,” he responds. “I... I wasn't expecting to see you here.”

“Neither was I. What are you still doing here?”

Vision runs a hand through his hair, looking bashful for a change. “I often come to the art room late at night. It helps me think, especially when I feel creatively stuck. I was on my way home and noticed the lights still on in this office.”

Wanda feels a pang of suspicion, even as she tries to remind herself that the university is as much Vision's space as it is hers. Still, she can't help but feel wary. “Well, I'm just leaving,” she says curtly, shouldering her bag. Before she can take another step, Vision's fingers encircle her arm, the unexpected touch of warm skin on skin causing her to pause. She looks down at where his fingers lightly grip her, and then up into his earnest eyes. She can feel the warmth of his hand, the roughness of his fingertips.

“Wait,” he murmurs, his blue eyes locking onto hers, an earnest plea evident in their depths. “We need to talk.”

Wanda instinctively tries to pull her arm away, but Vision's grip tightens, not painfully but enough to keep her there. He steps closer, effectively cutting off her escape route. His height becomes even more pronounced as he leans slightly, bringing his face closer to hers. His presence feels overbearing, almost intimidating, as he places himself between her and the exit. He quietly closes the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the silence, and the room feels much, much smaller now.

Wanda's eyes dart around, looking for a way out, her mind racing. “Vision, this isn't appropriate,” she manages to say.

All he says is, “I know. I'm sorry.”

They find themselves engaged in a staring contest, with only the sound of their breathing serving as a reminder of each other's presence. Several tense seconds pass, with neither willing to break the gaze. Then, slowly, Vision eases the grip on her arm, his fingers lingering for a moment before letting go entirely. He steps back deliberately, emphasizing the space between them, a clear invitation for her to leave if she chooses to.

Her heart pounding loudly in her ears, Wanda takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She wants to leave, to create as much distance as possible between them, especially when she knows what's about to happen if she gives in even the slightest bit.

She takes a shaky breath and, for the briefest moment, her gaze drifts to her work laptop. A flash of silver catches her eye. Her USB, containing the work she's been laboring on for hours. “I-I forgot something” she mutters, panic rising in her voice. “I need that before I go,” she says, pointing to the device.

Vision nods, not saying a word. Wanda cautiously begins to move towards the desk, but before she can reach it, Vision's there, his movements swift and silent. He suddenly wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close. The initial shock has her resisting, pushing against his chest, but it's short-lived. Before she knows it, she's letting out a quiet sigh, her face buried in the crook of his neck. He hoists her up effortlessly, seating her on the edge of the desk.

As she looks up at him, he slides his hands up, disappearing beneath her skirt. The faintest image of your face flickers across Wanda's mind, a ghost of a memory that almost pulls her back to sense and reason. But as Vision's fingers find their wet mark, Wanda's grip tightens on the edge of the desk, her eyes fluttering closed. She can no longer recall the sequence of events that led her to this very moment, nor the myriad reasons why it shouldn't be happening.

Every bit of rationale, every thought of you, all seem to evaporate, leaving only the need to breathe and to feel.

To just be.

Wanda remains in her car without starting the engine for a good thirty minutes. She left the room as soon as she could pull her panties up past her knees. She can feel the residual heat on her skin, how he felt inside of her. She resists the urge to squeeze her thighs together, attempting to disregard the stickiness and discomfort she feels.

She clutches the steering wheel, knuckles white, struggling with the realization of what she's done. She's betrayed you. It wasn't just a lapse in judgment, it was a deliberate decision, a yielding to curiosity, to loneliness, to that inexplicable pull towards someone who isn’t you. But as much as she’s drowning in guilt, she couldn’t deny how her mind keeps going back to Vision’s touch, the way he'd made her feel so alive, so seen, in a way she hadn’t felt in a while. It's maddening, this push and pull. It's like there are two sides of her fighting it out inside—one, the devoted partner who loves you, and the other, a woman who's awakened, yearning for something she can't quite put into words.

She laughs, the sound teetering on the edge of hysteria. It's an unsettling sound in the quiet of the car, an indication of her fraying sanity. How did she get here? How did she become this person? In what manner did she find herself engaging in infidelity despite your presence in her life? You've been the guiding light in her life for so long, making her the best version of herself she's ever known. But still, how can she undo this part of herself she never thought existed?

Tears form in her eyes as she closes them, trying to banish the memories, to shut out the storm of emotions threatening to consume her. But they're too powerful, too raw, too fresh. Too real. And she knows she has to face them, to confront the reality of what she's done and decide where to go from here.

It's just past midnight when Wanda's car pulls into the driveway. She emerges from the vehicle in a daze, her steps slow and disconnected, as if each step leads her inexorably towards her reckoning. The door to the house opens before she can even reach for the knob. There you stand, concern evident in your eyes. Wanda hadn't expected to find you awake, especially not at this hour, waiting for her.

It’s your scent first that reaches her before anything else, the distinct aroma of fresh pine from the sprawling garden surrounding the house, coupled with the distinct smell of Sparky, suggesting that you've held him close most of the night. The protective, almost desperate way your arms encircle her reveals just how much you've been consumed with worry about her whereabouts and safety.

Every time you’re near, every time she gets to hold you, it’s instinctual for her to break into a smile. But tonight, it's ephemeral. A tidal wave of guilt and regret crashes over her. She stiffens in your arms, the realization of her actions making her insides churn.

“Where were you?” you exclaim as you pull away and clasp her shoulder blades hard. “I've been here, pacing, worried out of my mind, and I couldn't reach you.”

It's the questioning, the concern, the love in your voice that breaks something inside her. “My phone died and I forgot to bring my charger. I was writing the final exam that I have to turn in by tomorrow, and got carried away. I’m so sorry,” she says evenly, almost robotically.

You raise an eyebrow, frustration evident. “You could've borrowed a phone or used the school's landline, right?”

She has to remind herself that your words aren't accusations. You're not out to corner her; you genuinely don't know what she's done. And in that moment, she decides that she'll do everything to ensure you will never know.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda resorts to tactics she despises in herself. “Like I said, I was working,” she retorts with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, hoping the hint of condescension in her tone might distract you, even as it tears at her own conscience. “It’s Westview. What’s the worst that could happen to me? Please let it go, I’m so fucking exhausted.”

Your reaction to her words is immediate, a palpable retreat, and she's overcome with the urge to spill every secret, every confession, if only she could be certain you wouldn't walk away.

“Fine,” you say tersely, stepping aside to let her pass. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” You don’t bother to hide the hurt in your eyes and her resolve almost crumbles.

“Sounds good,” she says and turns abruptly, making her way upstairs, her pace quickening with every step.

In the morning, she offers you kisses as an apology, and you're blissfully unaware of the hundred ways it's steeped in treachery.

It keeps happening with Vision and she starts to waste away. On the surface, she seems to be taking better care of herself: shedding some weight, toning in ways that leave you entranced during the few mornings you catch her making breakfast.

But Wanda is adept at playing it cool, brushing off your hungry gazes as if they're mere figments of her imagination. She longs for you in the same intense way she always has, but she's entangled in this twisted duality now. As she writes names and explanations on the board, she can almost feel the intensity of Vision's stare, a heat on her back that she's come to recognize all too well. Sometimes, during a lecture, she'll turn and catch him staring, and right then, she knows where they'll be once the session ends. She also begins to frequent places she's never been to before, corners of the town she hopes no one will recognize them in. There, they sit side by side, their knees touching underneath the table, talking about everything and nothing.

And you wouldn't, not for a second, entertain suspicions about her hardly ever being at home. Because your love for her is profound, and your trust, even more so. Because she knows you're buried under the weight of your own challenges at work, and capitalizes on this knowledge for the time being. Because whatever this is, whatever she’s doing with Vision, she knows it’s temporary. She swears she’ll clean up after herself, the moment she can purge this from her system.

Because none of it feels as if they're truly happening, and Wanda convinces herself it's just a hazy, erotic dream from which she can wake at any moment she chooses.

“Do you love me?”

The question hits Wanda like a freight train. Of course she does. You’re her… of course she does. And she’s never felt the fear of losing you, the true love of her life, more acutely than now.

“Of course I love you,” Wanda says, fighting to keep her voice steady even as her chin quivers. “What a silly question.”

“I guess I’m just feeling silly. We’ve been working hard, and when we’re together,” you pause, your voice quivering, letting out a mirthless laugh, “We’re still working.”

Her guilt amplifies. She's been so engrossed in her own struggles that she failed to see how it's affecting you. The toll it's taken on your relationship. Your insecurities, your need for validation, all because she's been distant and distracting herself from her own demons. She's grateful the shadows conceal her face from you, or else it would be to easy for you to recognize the truth, and—

“I just miss you,” you confess, and it stings.

“Me too,” she whispers, the words filled with layers of meaning she can't articulate. Wanda tries to find more words, something to reassure you further, but she can't quite comfort as effortlessly as you do for her. You've always been more adept at loving her than she's ever been with you.

“Good night,” you say, and Wanda detects no underlying bitterness in your tone. She almost wishes there were. It'd be easier if you didn't love her so unconditionally; then she wouldn't feel so wretched for the secrets she's keeping just beyond this room's walls.

She goes as far as asking herself if she simply misses having a cock inside of her, the thought nagging at her especially when Vision stays firmly inside her, holding her in place as he spills into a condom. She flutters around him a few more times before she slackens in his hold.

Pushing away the guilt that threatens to engulf her every time they are together, Wanda wonders if this reckless escapade with her student is merely an escape from the monotonous predictability of her life or a deeper reflection of some unmet need. Vision’s bedroom becomes a space of both pleasure and torment for her. When she catches her reflection in the mirror he’s installed in front of the bed, she barely recognizes the woman staring back, eyes clouded with both desire and regret. She clings to the belief that once she figures out what she's truly seeking, she can end it all and return to you, wholly and completely. But the more she thinks about it, the more elusive the answer becomes.

Vision’s bony hips gradually come to a stop, and he finally pulls out of her. She feels the evidence of their recent activities on her skin, and is hit with an overwhelming need to wash it all away.

“I need a shower,” she murmurs, more to herself than to him. He simply nods, watching her intently. There's a question in his eyes, perhaps seeking assurance or simply wondering if she'll return to his bed afterwards. Wanda doesn't give him an answer, nor does she meet his gaze for long. Instead, she wraps herself in whatever piece of clothing she can find and heads towards the bathroom.

When she emerges from the shower, redressed in the clothes she wore earlier, Vision is absent from the bedroom. Instead, the appetizing aroma of food wafts toward her. Following the scent, she discovers him in the kitchen, incongruously clad in a pink apron over his boxers.

As Wanda heads straight for the exit, Vision's voice abruptly stops her.

“Wanda, wait.”

She halts, not turning around, her hand still clutching the handle.

“You act as if I'm luring you back each time, Wanda. Like I'm this puppeteer pulling your strings.” He casually flips whatever he's cooking. “That's not how it is, and you know it.”

Wanda grimaces, his words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. “Vision, it's not that—”

He interrupts her, his tone dripping with feigned innocence, “Have I ever forced you? Pushed you into anything? Or have you willingly come to me every time? You have, haven’t you?”

She turns to face him. “You know it’s more complicated than that—”

“Yet you keep coming back. And every time you do, I think, 'Maybe she sees in me what I see in her.' But then you run, making me out to be the villain.” He finally looks up, his eyes pleading and calculating at the same time.

Tears well up in her eyes. She tries to speak, but he continues, overriding her. “You're an intellectual, Wanda. A brilliant mind. I've learned more from you this semester than years combined. Isn't it natural to be drawn to such brilliance? To want more than just lectures?”

“I'm married,” Wanda states with conviction, even though just an hour ago, that fact held no meaning beneath the sheets. “I've made vows. Promises. Every time I’m with you, I question myself, my integrity. I don't know why I keep letting this happen.” Wanda's voice quivers with frustration and desperation. Vision sees it as a minor victory. He knows he's affecting her.

Disregarding the pan and turning off the stove, he approaches her, his gaze never leaving hers, trying to weave his narrative into her consciousness.

“That's just it, isn't it? There's no betrayal. We're not sneaking around, planning secret getaways. We're two souls who've connected on a level that's rare. Deep, profound. We're just... experiencing it.”

She takes a step back, shaking her head furiously. “It's not right.”

He follows, closing the distance between them. When she’s within his reach, he lifts her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Who defines what's right, Wanda? Why is it wrong for two souls with undeniable connection to explore every facet of it? Does it make us bad people to want to feel alive?"

She tries to pull away, her gaze dropping to the floor, but he tightens his grip on her chin. “Look at me,” he says, his voice soft but insistent. “Tell me you don't feel it. This connection.”

She inhales sharply, her resistance waning. “I do... but I can't understand why.”

He releases her, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. “Because it's natural. And maybe… maybe there's nothing malicious in it. Nothing deceitful. We're just... experiencing.”

Wanda closes her eyes, his words washing over her, causing further confusion. “What do you want from me?”

He smiles, his touch growing bolder as he cradles her face. “I want friendship. Inspiration. You've become my muse, Wanda.”

“She loves me,” she murmurs, a last-ditch effort to wriggle free from his hold.

“And you love her, right?” he challenges, slowly starting to unbutton her blouse.

“Yes, but—”

“But love isn't singular,” he interrupts, his fingers moving deftly, revealing more of her skin with every second. “You can love her and still find something unique with me. Your love for her isn’t lessened because of our connection.”

Wanda bites her lip. With every piece of clothing he peels away, it feels like he’s stripping away her defenses, too. “It's not just about love. It's about commitment, trust.”

He slides her jacket off her shoulders, his hands warm against her bare arms. “And haven't you committed to her in every other aspect of your life? You share a life, a home, memories, and love. What we have... it's different. It's intellectual, spiritual,” he argues, his gaze never leaving hers.

“But there are lines we’ve crossed—”

“Lines society drew for us.”

She swallows hard, tears threatening to spill. “I just don't want to hurt anyone.”

His voice softens, even as his fingers deftly work at the last buttons of her blouse. “Neither do I. But sometimes, in life, we have to listen to our true desires, to understand what our heart and soul really need. It’s not about being selfish; it’s about being true to oneself.”

And is this one of her 'true' desires?

Before she can articulate things further, the last of her defenses and garments are stripped away, and Visions sheds his boxers and draws her near. Their skins meet, a tantalizing sensation of heat and urgency. Wanda's breath catches as Vision's strong arms wrap around her waist, effortlessly lifting her. She instinctively wraps her legs around him, their closeness leaving no room for hesitation or doubt.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #my writing #category: angst #iss #my fic #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n

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just-a-ghost00 · 29 days

Text

What blessing is coming your way?

Group 1

5 of pentacles, 10 of swords, Black Numen, Hanged man back of the deck

A period of isolation is coming for you. You may lose relationships, resources or situations that mattered to you and feel really sad about it. You may consider this as a betrayal or as life abandoning you. But the reality is that these changes and endings are important for you to shift your perspective and slow your roll. There were things you were not seeing or overlooking and in order for you to get back to light and clarity, the Universe is momentarily putting you in the dark. This is a blessing in disguise. And I know, how scary and depressing that sounds. Believe me I've been there. This will be a cleasing time for you. Things and people that were no longer serving you or were detrimental to your well being and progress will leave your life without you even having to lift a finger. Once you are able to understand why this is happening in your life and see past the darkness and confusion that surrounds this phase, you will then progress significantly and quickly go back to a better state of mind, a better way of living. This is likely to take a lot of time and patience. And I know how hard it may sound but I want you to know you are more than capable of overcoming this challenge. I send my best wishes and positive vibes to you with the hope that it will protect you and carry you through this trying time of your life. Remember that you are not alone and that your emotions and opinions matter. If you are having a hard time, feel free to contact any professional if you feel the need to. I am also ready to read your messages if you don't know who to turn to. I can't promise you that I will solve all your problems but I can tell you that I will do my best in providing a safe place for you to release your sadness and worries.

Group 2

The Fool, 3 of swords, 4 of wands, back of the deck ace of wands

After a heartbreak or a separation of some kind, whether this is relating to family, romance or business, you will be starting anew as a new partnership is coming your way. You may have a hard time trusting this at first, as memories of the past are still fresh in your heart. But you will take the opportunity nontheless and choose to move forward with a new positive mindset. This partnership may inspire you to get out of your comfort zone and overcome certain fears. It might be a bit challenging but your optimism and ambition will be your best tools in this situation. As the 4 of wands often represents the home and committed relationships, this may speak about the renewal of vows or of a contract. You are given a second chance to prove your worth and work on a clean slate. You will be supported in this journey by a feminine figure. Spirit animals may also be present to protect you and provide you with guidance. Especially the wolf spirit. You may have to travel or make a significant change in what you bring to the table. This may particularly concern your creativity and your ideas. You may feel inspiredto use your passions and creative skills as a fuel to progress further on your path. You are encouraged to keep an open mind and find support and inspiration by your loved ones and/or cowerkers. Though this may be intimidating, you will be more and more satisfied with this blessing the Universe is sending your way. When it comes to romantic relationships, you may feel a renewal of your desire and attraction for your partner.

Group 3

4 of swords, 3 of cups, Hanged man, back of the deck 4 of wands

The blessing coming your way is healing. Especially through friendships and siblings. You will be granted a period of rest to be able to focus on your needs, spend quality time with your loved ones and recharge your batteries. You could be spending a lot of time at home. If you're in a romantic relationship, your connection may be going through a very calm phase. You are feeling comfortable in the presence of your partner and the pace has slowed down. Some of you may get engaged during this period of time. You may be celebrating the healing of a disease. Your focus will be on your home and your center, as well as the relationships that matter the most to you. Your loved ones will be fully supporting you during this period of your life. If you are feeling a bit confused or uncertain, they will help you gain perspective on what is troubling you. Your blessing is the slowing of time to enable you to build solid foundations and restore your balance. I asked for further information as I wasn't getting much from your cards. You got the Queen of wands. You will be glowing up and also empowered during this period of your life. Though it may feel like not much is happening, a lot of changes are slowly but surely taking place for you.

#pick a card #just-a-ghost #pac reading #spiritual pac #tarot reading

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narcissarina · 11 months

Text

𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.4ᴋ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs/ᴛᴀɢs: ɪɴsᴜʟᴛɪɴɢ ᴡᴏʀᴅs, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ, ᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ sᴇx, ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ᴀᴜ, ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ!sᴄᴀʀᴀ × ᴀʀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs, ғᴜᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs(?) ʀɪᴄʜᴅᴏᴍ!sᴄᴀʀᴀ, ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ(ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴠᴜʟɢᴀʀ ᴛᴏᴏ), ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴘʀᴀɪsᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ?, sʟᴏᴡʙᴜʀɴ?, ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ (ɪ sᴜᴄᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ sʀʀʏ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪғ ɪ ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ!!)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀs ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇғᴜʟ ᴀ��ᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ. ᴠɪsɪᴏɴs ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴄʜᴏɴs. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ, ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴛ sᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀɪᴅᴇɴs. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ɪɴᴅᴜsᴛʀʏ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʟᴅᴇsᴛ sᴏɴ; sᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜᴄʜᴇ ʀᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ᴡᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍɪᴇ, ʜᴇ ʜᴀs... ᴀ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪǫᴜᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇs ᴡᴇʀᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴜᴍʙʟᴇ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʜᴇ’s ғᴜʟʟ ᴏғ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴄᴋʏ. ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛs, sᴏ. ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴇsᴘɪᴛᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ? ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴏʀᴍ ʀᴏᴏᴍ?

ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ, ɪ ᴜsᴇ ʀᴀɪᴅᴇɴ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ (ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴏɢᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɪ’s) ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ ᴇʀʀᴏʀs ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴇᴘs!!

There was another world of Teyvat that exist.

Where gods and visions were no longer needed, where everything become modern and everyone lives peacefully.

Where the dead lived and had a happy life.

Where what it felt like everyone live in the same continent of Teyvat.

Catalyst, swords, claymores, and bows no longer wield a purpose in this part of Teyvat—weapons no longer needed as it was replaced by advance weapons. Only meant to be use if you’re in position to use them.

In this side of Teyvat, you no longer need to fear the heavenly principles—fear the gods nor worship them or think of the visions.

Even the archons saw how Teyvat change over the course of hundreds of years, now that their people don’t need gods nor visions no more. They now live among human society and pretended that they aren’t archons—but one of them.

Maybe the this Teyvat you live in could differ than the old “Teyvat” that the elders use to tell?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The light of the sun illuminates to your room, how your alarm goes off to have your eyes flutter open and start your day anew. A yell was heard from downstairs kitchen, “y/n! Get up, hon.” The voice called.

You sat up, eyes half-lidded and still heavy. You stretched out your stiff muscles as a knock was heard from your door then your mother; still in a cooking apron stood from your door frame.

“Get up, dear.” Mother spoke as she knock on your door again, a little louder this time so you could hear. You can only reply with a tired groan giving your mother a thumbs up and rubbing your eyes gently.

“Pack your things, ok?” she reminded you, “and breakfast is ready, sweetheart. Come down and eat, all right?” she added before leaving your room and shutting your door.

Pacing out and blankly staring at the wall in front of you, you hop out of bed and start your day with showering first then packing your clothes for college. And maybe add some other things that can keep you entertained.

Art major, that’s right. You are an art student. The one who has poor posture every time you draw either traditionally on paper or in your digital tablet—that probably cost you more fortune.

You love to draw ever since you were little, probably at around the age of 5 or 6—well, everybody goes through that phrase right? Then when they came to age; they find new passion that suits them more and never touch paper and pencils again.

Well, that’s what you think anyways.

It doesn’t surprise your parents that you took art classes and art school in middle school, then now? Art major in the most well known college around Teyvat. It would take a while to get there even by car.

After getting done, your steps were light as you got down stairs and had your luggage’s ready. Your mom smiled as the two of you exchange a kiss on the cheek as a way to greet your mornings, “Morning, mom.” You greeted and sat down on a stool bar chair, resting both of your elbows in to the table while mom cooks your favorite breakfast.

There’s still time before mom drives you to college, “have you packed your necessaries, dear?” mom asked, you replied, your voice sounded like a murmur as you spoke. “yeah, I packed almost everything, mom.” You chuckle.

“alright then, sweetheart.” She sweetly smiled, turned off the stove—took a plate then happy place it down in front of you, what did mom cooked? The usual. Omelet with rice and French toast with jam. Yummy.

As you eat, mom hang her cooking apron at the fridge handle and let down her hair as she tidy up her attire. She breaks the silence as you eat, “So I heard that your…” she raised an eyebrow with a grin planted in her face, you rolled your eyes playfully in response. “Yeah, yeah. He’ll be there, alright.” You giggled and munch on your French toast with jam feeling.

“Do you know that the eldest son of the Raiden will be there to attend classes too?” Mom asked, fixing her blouse and skirt. Looks like she’s getting ready to get to work too.

The Raiden’s, that’s a name that you haven’t heard—no, even not familiar to you. All you hear, either in school or friend groups that the Raiden’s are insanely rich and owns a music industry. Hell, even the eldest son has a band that you… Well, surprisingly follow their band socials and listen to their music; 6reeze.

Neat band name, even though they all look like emo kids that hasn’t surpass their emo phase.

You were intrigued, “the eldest son, attending the same college as mine?” you ask to be sure, mom nods and turn around to have you look at her work attire.

“Yeah, and dear. How do I look?” She asked and gave a little twirl to showcase her proud look and attire, you smiled then finished your breakfast as you gave mom a double thumbs up. “You look great, mom.”

The two smiled as she gestures you to get up whilst she get her car keys, her jacket in hand and took your luggage’s too to have them inside the car. You followed along, chatted as the both of you got inside the car and continued sharing stories, your future even, then mom telling you how proud she is to you and how proud dad will be if he saw you, his baby girl all grown up and pursuing her dream.

He would’ve love seeing you stand in that stage, give your speech and throw your graduation hat in the air.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

“So…” mom starts, breaking the eerie silence throughout the ride as trees passes by your window seat, mom continued. “The raiden boy, the one that will be attending the same college as you.”

“What about him, mom?” you manage to mutter with a curious tone, tilting your head to your side as you listen to your moms words. “I heard he has… uhm…” she cleared her throat before continuing, “a rather, unique personality.” There was a pause in her sentence, unsure what she just meant by that.

“He can be, you know.”

“A jerk? I know mom, he has an ego and I don’t know why the internet love him about his bitch behavior.”

“y/n!” Mom called your name with a warning tone, “mind your language, young missy!” she pinch your side while looking out for the road. “owie!” you could only yelp and purse your lips to her direction, “I mean. It’s true that he has an ego and attitude.” You murmur under your breath.

“Don’t call him a bitch.” Mom shook her head, “but he is.” You groan, “y/n!”

“Fine, fine,” you laughed as mom continues to pinch and tickle your side, “I won’t call him a bitch, please mom! Eyes on the road!” you laughed as she just let out a sigh and smiled at you. You knew she couldn’t keep herself angry with you, you’re her angel. An angel that has a little wild and dark side, your tongue that has no remorse when it comes to speaking your mind. Yeah, an angel.

“I love you.” You confess and gave her your best puppy eyes that you know she could not resist. Mom let out a hum of an “aww” as the end of her lips tug a wide and wholesome smile, “I love you too, my baby boo.”

“Ew, what’s with that pet name.” you tease and giggle again, “I’m not going to buy you Starbucks.” Mom remarked as you plead for her forgiveness the whole ride.

The whole ride was filled with laughter and a strong bond between mother and daughter. You were glad that you have her as your mom, and your mom was glad that she has a daughter like you.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

It was huge, when I tell you huge. Huge, like really, really huge.

No wonder this college was well-known to over Teyvat. From what you heard from a friend—who also heard it from a friend. That not only it has a classy and massive inside, it also has a garden! Truly perfect to find yourself lost in endless inspiration, where you are surrounded with beautiful views.

They also give high class education, expect teachers be tight and extra strict. But overall! It was perfect! So perfect that you felt intimidated, just by the other looks of student, they all look… Expensively stylist and beautiful. Probably get themselves Starbucks like it’s in their daily lives.

Your mom assist your luggage’s as you are busy admiring how lovely and massive your college school is, “You already love it here, dear?” Mom let out a chuckle as she got a glimpse of your mouth agape and thinking you just saw the most jaw-dropping scene you have ever seen.

“The school view is great, honey, but do you mind helping your dear mommy?”

You turn around to face her, snap yourself back to Teyvat and hum a chuckle, “sorry, mom.” You apologize and lower your head to the ground, “I’d be lost in my own mind too if I’m attending to this kind of school too.” Mom admitted with a laugh as she took out one more luggage, “Let’s go.” She gestured as the both of you walk and talk then take flyers that’s been handing out.

You got in your dorm room, it was alright. Plain white walls and bed, luckily the school provides each students their own desk study in their own dorm room. “oh look! You got the first dip. Pick your bed, hun.” Mom spoke as she neatly tuck your luggage’s to the side as you inspect the beds and desk first.

“I’ll have the bed on the left.” You mutter and flop down, “set your things up before laying around, hm?” She clicked her tongue as she sat beside you, “I know you felt a little bit intimidated by the environment of the school and students here. But whenever you need me, I’m free to call and hun.” She pauses and brush your hair that’s been covering your face, “you’ll do great, I know it!” she encourages you and stood up from your bed.

You sat up with a smile, “I know, mom,” you hum, “thank you.” You smile as you stand up too to hug her goodbye, exchanging a kiss on the cheek before she bid farewell.

Now that she left, how about unpacking your things first and get some rest for the day? You too, are curious who’s going to be your roommate for today.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Everyone was busy in campus, playing and welcoming new students as they hand out flyers to promote their program nor club.

A smile in all of their faces, playful chattering in the background—everywhere you walk nor set sight to. There will be people either playing, giving out flyers and chattering.

And of course, this was suffocating for him.

Most of the crowd went silent as the boys steps out from their car, their instrument on their back as the boy with a medium-length dark green forest colored hair with a teal undertones. What’s more eye catchy is his golden irises with avian pupils, and a red eyeshadow. He also has a diamond marking on his forehead and he only held a drumstick rather than a big case of the instrument like the others.

He was the first one to step out, and he goes by the name; Xiao. His green tattoo almost visible because of the length of his sleeve, numerous fans adored his cold demeanor. As if it’s giving, cold prince vibes.

Murmur filled the air, quiet squeals and excited whispers were heard.

“Who are they again? 6reeze?”

“Holy moly, good archon! Aren’t they handsome?”

“I want Xiao’s autograph.”

“The main vocal is so pretty!”

Praises and compliments were in the air, all eyes on them as flashes of photographs were takes and only got it to stop the paparazzi’s to picture the boys is to block their view.

Venti, the main vocalist and main star attraction of the band.

Xiao, the drummer and fans favorite “cold prince.”

Kazuha, the bass guitarist. The calm and collected guy, who sets everyone’s needs and helps the groups rehearsals.

Aether, who plays the electric keyboard—he was also the main attraction of the band because of his gold long-braided hair. Just like Kazuha, he puts everyone’s needs and the “leader” of the group.

Heizou, the guitarist or ‘rhythm guitarist’ who provides the rhythmic pulse along the bass and drum. He’s playful and has a knack on charming his fans, he was described that he’s sweet and has a soothing voice.

And lastly, we have him.

Scaramouche, or Scara for short. The eldest son of the Raidens—wealthy, cunning, blunt, cocky, prideful, and the lead electric guitarist of the band. There was an… issue about his behavior a few years back, the issue died down and well. His mistakes were now covered up.

The six walk each by their side and chatted as some fans yelp and tried to get their attention, their bodyguards were preventing them from crashing themselves to either of the idols.

“God, this school is so suffocating.” The boy with dark purple hair complained, picking his ear to drown the noise of the fans.

“For you it is, but for all I know—we’ve got ourselves some club room reserved, we could rehearse there every after classes.” Venti spoke with enthusiasm, waving at the fans as they walk pass them.

“Aren’t they lovely?” Kazuha smiled, giving a fan an autograph as he spoke to the group with the same calm and soothing voice.

“lovely? More like a nuisance.” Scara rolled his eyes, annoyed by the same squeals and cheer whenever fans sees them—even if they just breath they’ll automatically say something idiotic, which he finds entertaining and laughable.

“Scara, watch that attitude. You’ll cause an issue again.” Aether warned and sigh, handing the paper and pen to the fan after giving his autograph to them. The boy with dark purple hair only rolled his eyes and click his tongue.

“How about we get our dorm room and key,” Xiao suggested, his voice hoarse and husky but when he speaks—it was flat and lacks emotion. Heizou second his suggestion.

They got their dorm number and keys.

“Me and Heizou are in a same room.” Kazuha shared and pocket his key, “hell, yeah..!” said Heizou, requesting a light high-five with Kazuha.

Aether nodded and check his list, “Ok, so. I’m with my sister, Heizou with Kazuha. Venti with Xiao…” he flips the paper back ‘n forth, “that leaves…” all eyes were on him.

“Scara. Separate room with someone.” Aether mutter low, but still heard, the dark purple haired boy scoff and groan.

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes, “I’m paired with a stranger. Great.” His tone filled with sarcasm and irritation, “so uhm. Whoever they are, please be nice to them? Have some remorse and don’t cause a scene like last time.” Aether let out a sigh with his parted lips, still letting out a small faint smile and tap his lead guitarists shoulder.

“whatever.”

“So, let’s all go to our room and call it a day? We still have packing to do.” Kazuha propose, “Me and Kazuha will go first.” Followed by Heizou as he tug the bassist away.

Aether wave them goodbye, Xiao nodded at them and left with Venti—which leaves him and Scara. The boy with golden braids cross his arms and let out a long sigh, “be good, ok?” he said and gave him direction on where his dorm is before leaving him last.

As he walk through the hallway, less crowds and few people murmuring; which he can clearly hear. He puts his earphones on, muffling the voices of the outside world as he make his way to the staircase. Getting lost in his own world, his earphone playing their band music. Something soothing and relaxing rather than the usual metal music they make.

Facing the door, he look down to see his dorm number to check if he’s in the right spot. Dorm 809; both his key and dorm plate sign has the same number.

Turning the knob, pushing the door open—his bag thud when he saw who’s his roommate is.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Setting up your easel in your desk, on your side of the bed. Finally finish unpacking and setting up your drawing on your bedside wall, organizing every pen and sketch pad inside the desk drawers and setting up your markers storage to store them in.

A heavy thud was heard from behind, a husky and hoarse voice spoke behind you.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” The male curse which surprises you, it was one hell of a greeting, a rude way to welcome your roomie don’t it?

You turn and met him eye to eye, his face filled with annoyances and disgust—as if he saw the most disgusting creature he laid eyes upon.

You could only tug a small smile from your lips and a small wave, you recognize him, of course you do! Scaramouche Raiden, the eldest son of the Raidens. The dickhead, asshole, bastard, a cocky hell of a guy.

He scoff, the side of his lip pulled up—rubbing it on your face how disgust he is to lay his eyes upon to someone not worthy sharing a room with him. “Of course, they’re going to pair me with a fucking girl.” He mutter, took his bags again and threw it on his side of the bed.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He clicks his tongue, and unpacks his things with anger and irritation. You could only stare and stand there, frozen like a statue, not knowing what to say or to do. When you are fucking paired with an asshole.

He first set his guitar on the side, took a pin or it’s just something sharp, you can’t tell. He punctured a fuckin’ hole in the fucking wall, what the fuck? You stare blankly, brows furrow together as if you too—silently judging him on what the fuck is he doing.

He then, took out his electric guitar; it was classy and aesthetically pleasing to the naked eye. Lavender and white colored, rounded corners, and his printed name and signature visible and readable even from a few distance.

The boy turn and face you with a raised brow, “name?” he asked, his tone flat and commanding.

“Pardon?”

“Are you stupid or just plain deaf?” his tone change to annoyances and irritation, his brow furrowing like yours—short-tempered, just like his height.

You tense a little, cleared your throat and maintain a small friendly smile as you told your name, his facial relaxing as he held his hand to offer a handshake. At least he still has some manners left in him.

Having second thoughts, hesitating whether to shake his hand. As if he deserves it, right? You shook his hand with yours, “Scara. Scaramouche Raiden.” He quickly removed his hand away from yours.

Then took a hand sanitizer and sanitize his hand, as if you were some kind of bacteria.

“You’re being rude, you know?” you grunt and scoff at him, “so what, princess? As if you’re the same level as me.” Scara bark back and scoffs, seeing you fold your arms against your chest with a frown on your face.

“You think highly of yourself, mister.” Emphasizing the word as if it was an insult. He scoffs and grin, stepping forward to you, “And what can you do about it, princess? Teach me a lesson or something? Fix me, change me?” he emphasized and mocks you, despite him being the average height, you too, were also short. Hell, even shorter than him, god damn it!

“That’s right.” He licks his upper teeth, showing off his ‘attractiveness’ as he lean down—meeting your eye level. “Shortie going to throw a mini tantrum?” he provokes, his finger pressing to your forehead as he gives it a few light and heavy taps before flicking it.

“God damn— Fuck you!”

“I’d like to see you try, princess.” You scoff at his word, pure disgust planted in your face. “Ew?” you gag and rolled your eyes, “That’s what your doctors first impression about you when your mom gave birth to you.” God damn this bitch has no remorse.

You could only frown as you can’t think of a comeback, you watch as he turns his back on you and continue unpacking his things sloppy and untidy. It looks like he’s in a rush, his smartwatch ding a notification. Fixing his posture, shifting his weight to his left and read the message.

You also received a notification message, it read; “Hey, I’m outside your school gate. Come meet me when you’re already free ;) XOXO”

A wide smile spread across your face after your read the message and stared at it for a few moment, “I’m out, going to rehearse.” Scara announced and took his electric guitar, “I’m going to enjoy toying with you, princess.” He added before leaving, a laugh got out from his lips, menacing and evil.

You roll your eyes and shrug your shoulders on what he said, toying with you? As if. You wouldn’t let yourself get bullied, no ma’am. You only set your mind on one thing.

Finally meeting your long distance boyfriend for the first time.

Last year you two only got a chance to meet up once, but now? Maybe every after school, you get to meet him outside the school gate. His school is only a few blocks away from yours, and his house is an easy walk too as his school and house were only near.

You hurry yourself and rushes to the school gate, panting and slightly sweating as you face him, “you okay?” he sweetly asked, god his voice was mellifluous.

You nodded in response and regain your composure, being all shy all of a sudden and not knowing what to say. You start to break the silence, “You come here often?”

He replied, “Yeah, I had a friend here. We always chat after his practice and hang out at a nearby café.”

Both of you continued talking, wasting hours sharing each others stories and how you aren’t familiar to most places here and how he share his experience here as well. Lost in both of your worlds, the outside world and back ground chattering began to muffle as you both lost in time and in each others presence.

Until it’s time to say each others goodbye, and tomorrow will be the first day your art class will start. You should probably draw something to present tomorrow, right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The door swung open, the cool breeze greeted him as if to welcome him in.

“There he is!” Venti playfully exclaimed, Aether then clasp his hand together, “6reeze, let’s all assemble and have our meeting finish and rehearse after.”

Seems like he’s the last one to enter the club room, Scara sat to a nearby window. Xiao leaning on the table then soon sat down on top of it, the boy with two braids; Venti, sat down to a chair—followed by Heizou and Kazuha.

The meeting starts like any other normal club, preparing each activities, what album nor music can they release next or maybe try something different than metal music.

But of course, this was just like any other “nonsense” meeting to him, as Scara sat by the window and listen to their leaders chattering, his gaze caught a glimpse of something outside—down there, as he fully took his gaze off of Aether and look down at the window.

“well, well. Look who we have here.” The dark purple haired boy grins at the sight, of you with your boyfriend, the view was very, very clear too.

“Ahem, Teyvat to Scara?” Aether called out as the lead guitarist, who’s been busy watching from afar. His gaze returned to the boy with golden hair, “mhm?” the lead guitarist raised an eyebrow. “Rehearsal today, does that sound good to you?”

“As in, now?”

“Yeah,” Aether nodded to his question, placing down the paper he has in his hand before going to his keyboard, “whenever all of you are ready.”

Scara took another quick glimpse, seeing how you and your lovely significant other bid farewell. He scoff and let out a chuckle, “this is going to be fun.” He mutter to himself, “what was that?” Xiao asked, seems like he heard what the lead guitarist said, “nothing.” The lead guitarist dismissed.

Little did he know, that Xiao caught a glimpse of the two of you too—how you and that other person touch and bid goodbye.

The two didn’t say anything, instead they got into their position—their respective stand as their music blast the room.

The lead guitarist couldn’t take his mind off of you and your significant other. How did he knew? Because no friend looks and touch that way. It’s pretty darn obvious to him.

Which it’ll be fun and entertaining for him.

The rehearsal finish at five sharp. The band bid their goodbyes and goes on their separate ways. Scara walks to the same hall and staircase to get to his dorm while looking down to his phone and checking for any messages or tea he could read.

Facing the door and turning the knob, he saw you sitting and working on your drawing, “Well, if it isn’t miss artist.” He starts and you ignored his remark.

“Why the cold shoulders?”

“I’m working something here, can’t you see or are you just blind?” you bark to him, he click his tongue and flop down to his side of bed. “What did your boyfriend left you a bad taste or something?” you froze in place, pencil down and your heart race.

“What?” he raised a brow, his hands on the back of his head as he relax in his bed. “You think I didn’t see you two being all lovely-dove? You know that some club rooms are close to the school gate,” he chuckle in the middle of his sentences then continues, “for all I know, not even a friend can look at someone like that.”

“And your point?” you asked as you held your breath, not knowing why. Why is he being a pest at your love life.

“He looks like he doesn’t belong here, comes from another college school correct?” you nodded at his question, not knowing why you answered to him truthfully. “He could be cheating on you, you know.” He grins.

You could only scoff at his accusations, “excuse you.” You stood up and goes up to his side of the room, “My boyfriend would never ever cheat on me. I trust him.”

“That trust blinds you,” he sat up and lean back to the head board of the bed, “seeing is better than believing.” He added and laughs, he truly enjoys toying you like this.

You were silent, dark thoughts crawling in your mind—what ifs and possible scenarios coming together, what if he’s right? You and your lover only saw each other once last year, what if your lover thinks your ugly and having a long distance relationship excuse him for cheating?

Your breathing becomes rapid, panic setting in and fear visible to your eyes, “but you know, I could be wrong though.” Scara laughed, he loves that face you made; terrified, anxiousness, doubt and fear settled in your face. He enjoys your reactions to his make-believe and evil remarks.

“God damn it, you are the worst roommate that anyone could ask for.” You hiss, took his pillow and harshly threw it at him, he could only laugh at your reaction—enjoying that his roommate is a softie and someone he could enjoy pestering.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Don’t be a pussy and fuck me yourself.” He grins, waiting for your comeback with his flirty remark.

You got to your bed and threw your mini octopus plushy at him, it’s expression ‘angry’ as you were hinting that you are mad at him. “Thanks,” he waves your lavender and black inside-out plush, “for safe keeping.” He laughs and it looks like that plush is now his.

How the tables have turned.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The next morning, in class, you put up your drawing—clipping it to your easel as you stood beside it. You saw other students creation, beautiful, detailed, realistic, imaginary. Their creativity are something else, and you felt you couldn’t match that.

You stand firmly as your art professor walks in, eyeing every each one of the artworks and their artists, he spoke; “There are rules of art, some find techniques and master it. But, today.” His voice deep and husky. “Let us set those rules aside, and want you guys to draw from the very core of your soul.” He added.

Students looks at him confuse, he then continued, his tone hinting playfulness and in a joking tone. “Well, to understand, can someone held their painting up and tear it?” he asked, then chuckle as he saw no one tear up their painti—

Rip.

Gasp from the students were heard, all eyes were on you—tearing up the drawing you did last night. Shock, from the male professors face, he steps forward to you, “y/n.” he called, “I was just joking, why would you tear up a beautiful drawing like that?” he asked, stress can be heard in his tone of voice.

He let out a sigh from his lips and still spread a smile, “Care to tear it once more?” you obliged to his request and tear it once more, “now, that wasn’t so hard. Wasn’t it?” he smiled and patted your head, you were praise by your art professor but he was a bit stress when you took his silly joke too literally.

“Let me introduce myself again, I am Zhongli. I’ll be your art professor fro this semester, so everybody grab their pencil and present something from your hearts content.”

Professor Zhongli was a professional in arts and ancient history of arts, he’s also a gentleman and a total opposite of him. He’s tall, has fair skin tone, amber-eyes with yellow diamond shaped pupils and red eyeliner on the lower lids of his eyes. His hair dark brown with a longer fringe on the right side of his face, he also has a rattail at the back. Then a golden brown tip that seems to glow a little, it’s eye-catchy and sometimes distracting when he turns his back and teaches.

The bell rang and class was dismissed, you made your way to the campus ground to find some inspiration, headphones in, blasting soft lo-fi music.

You stop your tracks when you saw one of the band members of 6reeze; Xiao, talking to professor Zhongli. Xiao also caught you standing there, he didn’t say anything and just wave at you. You wave back and gave him a smile, then a hand stop you.

“There you are..!” it’s a females voice, sounds like she’s been in a run to come and find you. You turned and face her, “oh hey, Kylie.” You greeted.

Kylie, your internet friend that you have finally met thanks to her attending to the same school as you.

“So..” she’s still catching her breath, she sure made a run for it. “w-… Where you heading?” she asked, taking a couple of deep breaths as her chest finally relax and so do her breathing.

“somewhere less crowded to take air and maybe find some inspiration for my next drawing,” you replied with a smile, she tagged along and clung to your left arm as the two of you walk out. You both talk about how different your major to hers, and ranted how you have an asshole of a roommate.

“ok, ok.” Kylie started and munch on her muffin, “you tore your drawing apart?” she asked again, to make sure for good measures. You nodded in response, letting your headphones rest on your neck as you doodle something in your sketchpad.

The both of you were sitting in the grass, you admiring the greenery of the school and sketching random trees. And your friend… munching and sharing her days how she missed you, and how she’s happy finally meeting you face to face. “You know there’s a café nearby here, let’s go there sometime.” She suggested, “my treat!” she added with enthusiasm hinted in her voice.

“By the way,” she leaned in and rest her head to your shoulder, clinging to your arm again as if you are her lover. “That roommate of yours, if I was in your shoe; I would’ve demand the principal to switch me a roommate.” She huffs, “guess who’ll I rather have a roommate?” Kylie asked with a grin.

“Nah. I already knew who.” You grinned.

“Tell me.”

“Xiao.”

The girl made a squeal, hugging your arm tight and kicking her feet as she goes on rambling on how ‘delusional’ she is for Xiao.

Then someone harshly bumped next to you two as they pass by.

“Hey, watch it, dickhead!” your friend curses at a certain boy and she gave him the middle finger. And of course, it was Scara.

“Get it? Dickhead?” your friend silently giggles, “because his haircut looks like a shape of a dick no? Not funny at all?” she made an ‘aww’ sound and purse her lips to you.

The boy with golden long braids yell, “Sorry!” from the distance, you took a glance at their direction and wave at them and gave them a thumbs up, saying it’s ok.

You felt another persons presence behind you, looking up to see Xiao towering over the two of you, his expression unreadable and his tone flat. “I apologize on our lead guitarist behalf.” He said and gave a slight bow to show that he’s genuine and respectful.

You can feel Kylies silent squealing as you stood up and she followed, “I’m Xiao, you probably already knew that but I rather keep it like this.” Xiao offer a hand to shake, you took it and said your name to him—he smiled. “And she is?” he points to your friend, before you could speak, she took Xiao’s hand to shake. You can almost sense she was trembling, “Kylie! I’m her friend.” She nervously shook his hand before Xiao removed his from her trembling hand, he nodded at her and turn to you again.

“Here, have a cupcake. Accept these for an apology for Scara’s behavior. Truly sorry for that.” His tone change to something genuine, as in he’s truly expressing how sorry he is for their lead guitarist behavior.

You and Kylie took a cupcake, “Thank you.” You smiled at him, “Is he also your roommate?” Xiao asked, you nodded. “I see, please don’t hesitate to tell us his reckless behavior nor is he bothering you and kept pestering you. We’ll deal with him.” And with that, the boy left to return to his band group.

“Good thing you didn’t embarrassed yourself.” You remark as you ate the cupcake Xiao gave to the two of you, “Good thing I didn’t said something stupid.” Kylie let out a huff and laughs.

“oh shit!” Kylie curse, munching her cupcake almost as if she’s eating it all in one bite, as she spoke—you couldn’t understand her when her mouth is fucking full. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.” You sigh, curious on why she’s in a panic.

She swallowed and hiccup, took your tumbler to drink some of your water. “Y-You..” she needs to catch her breathing first, “You have a boyfriend, right? Here? From another school and only a few blocks away?” questions over question was thrown at you, you could only nodded and watch her rummage through her phone.

Anxiety sets in, you don’t know what’s happening but you could feel your heart race. “When you haven’t arrived here yet,” Kylie starts, “I thought your boyfriend was a familiar lad, but he was the same person I saw a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks ago, before you got here?

Kylie showed you a bunch of photos, not edited, not Photoshop, it was legitimately real. You saw your lover in the picture, a girl clinging to his arm, the picture was a little blurry but you could tell that it was him. “here, I even filmed them to ask you if it’s your lover or it’s a different person.”

“no, no. That’s him alright.” You quickly replied, not even a second thought held on that. You took her phone and held it in your hand, you click play and watch the whole video.

The video shows you, your lover and the girl—the camera zooming in on them. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you are sure that the bastard in the video was your boyfriend. The fucking audacity, the girl was clinging into his arm and kissing his cheek—making you want to barf and vomit the cupcake you’re eating right now.

The video ended, it was only ten seconds long but you are sure that his predicament were right. “I have to go.” You told your friend as you finish eating your cupcake, putting away your sketchpad and pencils in your tote bag and bid goodbye to Kylie.

You heard her yell out, “Text me, ok!?” you gave her a thumbs up, noting that you’ll surely text her.

Tears were forming in your eyes, you tried holding them back but a tear fell from your cheek. You wall to the hallway, some people noticed you as you made a run for it—running away from them and running up the staircase to get to your shared dorm room with him.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Scara was on his desk, in his side of the room as he compose his part of the music they’re now currently working on. Headsets on to have the outside world muffled as tunes and relaxing music sets in—as he strum his finger against his electric guitar, if he finds the tune more fitting—he then will write it down, hence and repeat.

Bursting in your shared room was not something he expect, “Holy shit—” he cursed, headset almost fell to the floor and having his phone open and had his band on a video call. You startled him as he made a sound of relief from his lips, “holy shit, you could have at least knocked first.”

You ignored his remark, instead—you sat down to the edge of your bed, blankly staring down at the floor. He can see how your eyes were red and swollen, Venti's voice spoke to his headphone as it was on Bluetooth connected.

“Something wrong?” The vocalist asked Scara, the lead guitarist could only stare and watch you like a statue, you wouldn’t even budge or flinch.

He raised a finger to his phone and placed down his headset to his desk, “hey.” He called, but you ignored, “Teyvat to y/n?” he snaps his finger to get your attention.

Scara can hear whispers from his headset, he glared at his phone and sigh—he then stood up from his seat and walk towards to you, knelt down on one knee to meet your eye to his, “Teyvat to y/n.” he repeated, “your eyes are red,” he then stood up to squat as he took your chin to his fingertips, “look, I know something happened. Did I made you cry about something? Did I hit you and your friends shoulders too hard?” he threw questions at you, but his voice weren’t the same stern and irritating tone but rather low and soft as if he’s trying his best to understand you.

“You good?” he asked again, tears then started to rain from your cheeks again. “S-Shit. Look, princess. I d-did not want to make you cry, I-I’m sorry, o-ok?” he stammer, panic sets in him. He didn’t know why you were crying, but all he knew that he did not like it.

His Bluetooth suddenly got disconnected from his headset as voices of his band sets in the room, “Making a girl cry? Not cool, Scara.” “oh dear, what did you do?” “apologizing to her won’t do, beg for forgiveness. On your knees.” “Yeah, your mom wouldn’t like this. Can you stop her from crying and give comfort at least?”

“Could all of you shut the fuck up?” He snaps at his band members through the phone, “look, I suck at this. What happened? Tell me and stop crying.” He demands in a softest way possible, but it is still a demand.

You couldn’t form your words, couldn’t even form a sentence and you don’t know where to start. He can only make out a few sentences and words, but all he could make sense is that ‘his predicament were right.’

“So, you mean I was right, all along?” He confirms, you could only nod and weep. Scara slowly nods and turn his head to look at his band, they only gave him a peace sign and tell him, “you fucked up.” And hang up.

Scara let out a frustrated scoff and messes his hair up, then look down on you—still weeping and sniffling, trying to stop your tears.

It was a minute of silence, only the fan and your breaths were heard, he starts; “Look, I’m sorry. I was just joking, I didn’t mean it to be real, ok?” he apologized and scoot over next to you, his legs spread and his elbow resting to either of his thighs as he clasp his hands together and look at you.

You could only weep in response, not having the energy to say a word. He even got the most comfortable blanket wrapped around your shoulder as if he’s covering your whole body up, acting like you had a strong cold. “Ok, ok. Who’s this bastard again?” he asked and you didn’t give two shits about your cheater boyfriend no more and gave away his name.

“Ok, so the next time you meet him at the school gate. Bring me along.” He remarked and put his arm around you and placed you down to his lap, “comfortable?” he asked, you nodded as your eyes were red and swollen and eyelids were heavy.

“noted.” You manage to utter before fully shutting your eyes and feeling his embrace around you while in the most soft and comforting blanket. “alright, get some rest.” He sigh and had you cradle in his arms tonight.

A bit odd on how you find comfort in his touch, his presence, and even his voice as he starts to sing you lullaby to help you sleep faster. As if his mellifluous tone uttering the lyrics was too good not to hear nor miss. Deep within, you wish you could hear him sing you another time, as you seek comfort in both of his voice, and presence.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

Strangely enough, you found yourself being in your roommates arms frequently. As if you’re seeking his presence and warmth against yours and even taking it far from borrowing one of his oversize hoodies and wear it as if it’s your own.

“what the fuck are you wearing?” Scara asked with a drink in his hand, as he points to the hoodie you’re wearing, “it’s that mine?”

“No, it’s now mine.” You snuggle and hug the hoodie you’re wearing close to your body, “it’s comfy.” You added and pulled the hood up.

“whatever.” He rolled his eyes and drank his can drink.

What’s more strange that he didn’t mind it, he didn’t mind that you’re being all too clingy to the point you find yourself waiting outside his club room to wait for their rehearsal to finish and drag him away because he “promise” to take you out as is it’s his treat. Even your own friend thought you’re being odd now.

“Hey girly!” Kylie greeted, waving and hopping towards you to greet you with a hug too. You could only hug back and greet with a happy hum, the girl then look at you then at the club room door. “Why are you being a by stander here all of a sudden?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

You didn’t answer, you only lay your head low and look at the ground while humming their songs, Kylie sigh and hangs out with you, standing for hours.

Then the boys finished, Scara slide the door open and steps out—only to glance down at you when he steps out, “What the fuck?” he cursed, you stopped your friend from saying a word and pulled Scara away.

Away from his band members, away from your friend and away from the crowd.

“Looks like they’ve grown close.” Xiao remarked, his presence only behind to Kylie, “yeah. Too close.” She frowns and sigh.

“Want to hang out with us?” Xiao asked the girl, the other members greeting her with a smile and filling the atmosphere with laugher and joy, “sure!”

So odd, that your friend, and his friends also suspect that something fishy is going on.

Venti cleared his throat as he sat on top of the table while Scara brush off some dust of his guitar, “so.” The main vocal starts, breaking the silence.

“You’re good at math right?”

“What about it?”

Venti enthusiastically grins and chuckle at your response, “Formally speaking; may I require your assistance in a simple math problem? I find your arithmetic intelligence quite intriguing my friend.”

“If it’s a simple math problem then go solve it yourself.”

“come on! It’s only one..” Venti frowns and whines at him, Scara could only roll his eyes and wave his hand to gesture, ‘ask away.’

Venti smiled and tap the table, “I shall provide you two-variable equation, my friend! You plus your adorbs roomie equals?”

“You seriously asking this bullshit?”

“Yes.”

“Cannot be.”

“Ouch?” Venti dramatically groan to the pain and fake a sob, “Oh how cruel of you! To have such an adorable roommate like that, it’s impossible to have the answer; cannot be!”

Funny enough, Kylie also asked you the same thing and you answered the same. But with a hint of doubt in your answer.

You have always seek his presence, warmth and mellifluous voice every chance you get. You were getting too comfortable with him to the point where you both share the same bed even though this dormitory has two bedroom for a reason. You find yourself in his bed or him in your bed.

Having a nightmare? Scared of the loud roar of thunders? Can’t sleep? Feeling uneasy? You will and always will find yourself standing up from your bed and going to his, snuggling close as if he’s your teddy bear or you his little bear.

“Why are you here again?” Scara asked, his tone tired and sleepy as he rub his eyes.

“I can’t sleep, I had a nightmare.” Scara clicked his tongue to your response as he groan, pulling you close to his chest and pressing his chin at the top of your head, “there. Now go to sleep.” he grumbled and pulled your body close to his.

This would happen every often, then before you know it. It’s now a normal routine for the both of you, hell even every morning there will be hugs and kisses for a way to greet good morning.

And little by little, day by day and even weeks had pass, little feelings began to crawl in. Pushing in their way to develop the chemistry between the music and art students.

But hey, it wasn’t so bad after all.

დ➳დ➳დ↴

How long has it been the moment you and him finally settle to your lifestyle like this? Three months? Or less than that?

You were rummaging in your drawer, looking for available comfy clothes but you can’t see one. You stood up and go over to Scara’s side and rummage through his things, “Really?” he scoff and squint his eyes to you.

You stick your tongue out and took his oversize hoodie, again. And wore it to your liking, it was pass your knees and you’re wearing a cat high-knee socks. It compliments the look.

Scara could only roll his eyes and lean back to his seat, you walk up to him and casually sat down to his lap—giving all your weigh to him and snuggling close to his warmth, “bitch.”

“you’re a bitch too.” You barked back and pinch his side as he jolt and flinch at the pain, “god damn it.”

You smile and kick your feet up as your phone dings a notification, Scara took it and read it with you as his hand were supporting your rear while you’re on his lap. The message read; “Hey, it’s been 3 months since the last time we met. Want to hang out today? Come meet me at your school gate ;) XOXO”

“Ew?” Scara scoff and place your phone down to his desk and spun around with his chair, moving around as if he’s giving you a mini roller-coaster ride.

“I have to meet him.” You remark.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Nah.”

You frown at his response and tries to kick your feet to move the chair back to his desk, “Nah uh.” He said, “Yah uh.” You responded, “You’re here with me, in my arms, in my embrace. So no.”

He push himself back and took your phone in his arm, “lay your head to my neck, I have an idea to have you avoiding that piece of shit.” You followed what he said and snuggle yourself close to him, your face covering up to his neck as he snap a picture—us his two hands to send and type; “Sorry, this little brat of a princess is busy cuddling with me. Also, not making an effort nor show yourself inside those 3 months, seriously? What kind of a dickhead of a boyfriend are you? Plus, I heard you cheated on this poor little brat, thanks for that. I’ll be taking over, and also. You look like a fucking pig that has been abandoned by your owner and was never loved by your mother, so that’s why you treat your partner like shit and took advantage of the long distance relationship so you could cheat. Disgusting imbecile.”

“What did you send to him?”

“None of your business.” He answered and stood up, cradling you in his arm as he lay your back against the soft fabric of the bed and puts all of his weight on top of you.

“Don’t worry, he won’t bother you no more and, I broke up with him for your behalf.” He informed and drown himself to your scent and chest. “small tits.” He remarked.

“says the one who has a small dick.”

“You haven’t even seen my size yet, princess.” He grins and pulled himself up and cage you in his bed. He leaned in and whisper into your ear, “want to me to make you my little slut in broad daylight?”

დ➳დ➳დ↴

You didn’t know how it happened, it just did.

You were in his lap, legs spread wide open, you mewling over and breathing softly as you felt your heart race. His fingers in between your folds, motioning in circle to tease your aching hole. He whispers degrading words next to your ear as he finally plunged in his middle finger in.

His left arm around your back, holding you close and supporting you so you wouldn’t fall over, this his hand around your side to held your tummy, strumming like it’s the string of his guitar. You were confuse but you could only mewl and let out a gasp when he began scissoring his fingers inside you—you didn’t even felt a second finger entering.

“There we go, such a needy hole you have.” He scoff and god, he’s spreading your tight walls so good. You arch your back and whimper at him, biting on to the fabric of his hoodie that you’re wearing. Your cunt clench around his fingers, he can feel it pulse and twitch, “You want more? What a whore.”

And there, inserting a third finger—you gasp and held on to his chest and thigh, panting and mewling as you tried to move your hips away from his fingers subconsciously. He plunges in and stayed still, “Stop moving, bitch.” He hiss and harshly thrust his fingers, spreading you out.

“Let me teach you how to play a guitar, hm?” he spoke next to your ear and starts to separate his fingers and pressing pressure inside of you, stretching you even more. You moan and gave shuddered breaths, tears forming in your eyes as you look up at him with those beautiful glassy half-lidded stare, begging him to do more.

“Feel this, this is E major and this is E minor.” He spread his fingers and pressed pressure inside your cunt, he felt it clench around his fingers—your back arching and you almost crying your moans on how it’s becoming too much and how you felt something warm inside your stomach.

“No, no. You’re not going to cum just yet, I haven’t finish teaching you all the basic chords.” He murmur, his brows furrow together and a sinister grin can be seen across his face. “I c-can’t help, ‘m going to c-cum..” you mutter, his fingers retreating and you mewl at the sudden emptiness as he snaps his three fingers back in.

Your eyes widen as tears rolled down from your cheeks and you muffled your scream as you felt your release, “Oh, I didn’t know you squirt.” Scara almost laugh at the sight, his gaze almost degrading and he looks like he’s plotting something evil.

As you let out broken gasp and trying to calm yourself from you high, you opened your eyes and saw him lay you down from your back—in his bed, as he position himself in between, “Look at the mess you’ve created in my bed,” he sigh and pulled you by your hip, pressing his hard length against your soaked cunt. “Such a needy slut, you don’t mind me using your hole as a toy for now, right?”

Your manage to frown at him, watching him pulling down his sweatpants and letting his length sprung free, his tip almost hitting his belly button and he sure is thick.

You mewl as he rub himself against your wet cunt, brushing his tip against your folds and pressing his slit to your clit—resulting him to hiss. God you’re sure he won’t be gentle with you.

He grabbed your thighs and motion you to wrap your legs around him as he press his tip to your entrance, “You’re loose enough, you can take me in one swift motion.” And with that, you felt like you’re being stretch apart by something thick when he thrust and bottom himself out to your cervix.

“God, fuck. Taking me well with this tight cunt you whore.” He hiss with a laugh, “oh, fuck so tight.” He moan as he pulls back and plunge himself deeper again, you almost moan aloud, the only thing that’s muffling you is you biting onto his blanket. Mewling and weeping on how good he’s stretching your cunt with his fat cock, every thrust you’ll shudder and clench around his length.

“Fuck, such a good slut.” He hiss again, finding his preferred pace—taking grasp of your thighs, pushing them back as he spread his legs wider to go much, much deeper.

He growls every thrust he make, he leans and pecks your neck and collarbone with sloppy kisses and bite marks—he couldn’t contain himself, he could not hold back.

You were already crying on how overstimulated you are, but he kept on going and singing either degrading words and praises in your ear. He’s even vocal with his moans, more like on grunts and growls, even his moans and grunts soothing like early birds in the morning.

You try to quiet yourself down to hear more of his mellifluous moans and grunts every time he plunges himself deeper inside you, but fail because on how good he’s fucking you stupid with his length.

Not that long, you felt your second release and squirt yourself in his cock. “That’s right, cum on my cock like a whore you are.” He chuckle and pecks you love bites more, and soon after, he chase his own high as he plunged himself deeper to release his seeds. Abusing your poor cervix.

He rides out most of his seeds, pushing his tip and not letting a drop go to waste before collapsing on top of you, not even thinking of pulling out.

“P-Pull out..” you mewl, “make me.” He replied as he wraps his arms around you and gave a few light thrust to have him hear your sweet melodic moans again.

You didn’t knew you’d even last, he has a really high sex drive and you did not know. He fucks you dumb all day, resulting not attending your classes that day as you beg and mewl for him to stop because you have class and that his band needed him, but he told you they not important right now. What’s important is him breeding out your sweet little cunt, but hey. At least you can hear him grunt and moan right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The two of you cuddle in each others arms, his back leaned over the wall and you in the center of his legs that’s been spread apart so you can lay your butt on the softness of the bed cushion. His chin on your shoulder as he taps you by your tummy while being covered in thick blanket, “mhm?” you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, fighting the urge to close them.

“I didn’t make it to your wall?” he raise a brow and pointed at your side of the room—at your wall, where you store up your paintings, “your friend and my band members made up to the wall, why didn’t I?” Scara growls and frowns at you, jealousy creeping in.

You shrug and rest your back to his front, head going to the crook of his neck as you mutter, “dunno.”

“I won’t be paying for your Starbucks.”

“you won’t do that.”

“Oh, yes I will.”

You huff and crawled out of his bed, limping as you walk to your bed and curled up like a ball there. He laughs at the sight as you flip him off with your middle finger and he could only laugh.

The following days were normal and sometimes chaotic whenever you and your friends hang out, your friend and well… Roommate hated each others guts and always yelling each others curses nor making you choose between them here on out. The school first semester almost brought to an year, and till next year—you will meet them again.

The band; 6reeze, had something in planned for all campus before going home to celebrate with their families, they posted their invitation on the school group,—inviting everyone to their performance before years semesters end.

It was crowded and many students cheer and yell as the boys got on stage, they got to their respective position and yell out to all of the students—bringing their attention to the stage, “Me and my friends put up a show before we all got home and reunite with our family, to celebrate the end of the schools semester.” Venti starts, “we hope you love it!”

Music blast and crowds went wild as they sing the song that they already knew, the student sang along and dances within the crowds.

You and your friend were watching them shine in that stage, even though they are already shining but seeing them perform live and in front makes it special. Then a new song kick in, this must be the song he talk about with you.

“Wait, I must go.” You told Kylie, “what? But it was just getting good..” she whines and you made your run with a smile on your face, waving her goodbye to the distance. Well, she can’t stop you doing what you’re going to do, right?

დ➳დ➳დ↴

The performance ended and other students bid their goodbyes as the boys got some time to autograph for some students who asked them.

The lead guitarist look around but no signs of you, must've miss the performance, perhaps? Scara look around and call out to a familiar girl, “Hey!” he yelled and walk up to her, “Where’s y/n?” he asked.

Kylie was talking to Xiao and taking a couples of pictures with him and taking his autograph, she turn to face the lead guitarist, “She was in a hurry, so I didn’t stop her from leaving.”

Scara sighs and nodded at her response, “thanks.” And left off.

Running in a hurry and passing by the same locker room in the same familiar hallway and running up to the same staircase where their shared room is.

Panting and sweating as he burst open through the door, “oh goodness!” you were startled and look at him in disbelief, “why are you in a rush?” You asked as you neatly pack your luggage’s, but what caught Scara’s attention was the big canva portrait that you hang up through the wall. He smiled and scoff.

“Looks like I made it to the wall, huh?”

You laugh and responded, “you sure did.”

The portrait shows the 6reeze members, but what’s eye-catchy about it is where you stand before it when watching the performance play, Scaramouche’s figure is bigger than most of the other members. Catching his figure and focusing on every detail when he plays his electric guitar as you could hear him sing along with his mellifluous voice with the vocalist.

The two of you only look at the painting you did up to the wall, admiring it and talking before leaving it there.

And hence, that’s how the story of an art and music person romances. It was lovely.

Because that was everything.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #scaramouche #genshin scara #scara x reader #scara x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche modern au #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x female reader #genshin x fem!reader smau #genshin x f!reader #genshin fluff

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tainsan · 1 year

Text

misfits XI

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: mentions of suicide, mentions of therapy, self deprication, mature scene but it's not crazy

⇥ word count: 9.5k

⇥ a/n: okay i know you have all been looking foward to this chapter, it is an intense one and i hope yall finally enjoy some much needed romantic tension ;-;

⇥ this chapter is for my wife @l0vetiny, ilysm!!!

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--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---

Resting in your room, you stand at the crossroads of your emotions, torn between the familiarity of cherished friendships and the allure of a potential romantic relationship. The idea of taking that leap excites and terrifies you, as it means venturing into uncharted territory with people you've known and admired for years.

Whenever you look at your group of friends, you can't help but feel a tinge of envy towards their popularity. They seem to effortlessly navigate social situations and grab attention wherever they go. Would you be able to handle the spotlight that inevitably comes with being associated with them in a romantic capacity? You know about their jealous fans, and the attention you would most definitely receive upon starting a relationship. Not to mention the rumours and bad words that would be spread once someone finds out you aren’t just in a relationship with one of them, yet all of them.

Trust is the foundation of any relationship, and you know that building it anew on different grounds will be a crucial step. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for something more with them, to explore a connection that goes beyond friendship. Their laughter, the inside jokes you share, and the way they understand you have always made your heart skip a beat. Yet, the fear of jeopardising your bond keeps you hesitating, wondering if you can afford to risk what you already have.

You battle with your own insecurities, questioning whether you're ready for the rollercoaster of emotions that a romantic relationship might bring. Are you enough? Can you handle the weight of their expectations? The prospect of letting them down frightens you, and you're afraid of losing not only a romantic partner but also your close friends.

The truth is, you think you want this relationship, yet you acknowledge that timing is everything. The decision weighs heavily on you, and you need to be certain in your heart before taking the plunge. You owe it to yourself and to them to be genuine, vulnerable, and ready to embrace the changes this choice will bring.

You decide to step away from your bed for a moment, feeling the weight of your emotions overwhelming you. Making your way to the bathroom, you start your nighttime routine, pausing for a few seconds to look at the bottle of moisturiser, bringing a flood of thoughts of Yunho to your head.

Yunho has changed so much since the day you first saw him in the kitchen. His transformation has been quite remarkable. You can't help but reflect on how he's evolved since your trip to the store for your moisturiser. Initially, he appeared rude, his demeanour shrouded in a kind of icy reserve. It was almost as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

However, as time passed, you noticed the shift in his demeanour. When you went to the furniture store together, it was like the walls he'd built around himself were slowly coming down. Yunho's newfound warmth towards you is reminiscent of the time from your high school days, when you sought refuge from the troubles at home and found peace in the warehouse, where he discovered you alone.

Back then, you were both navigating the challenges of adolescence, and life had already presented you with your fair share of hardships. It was in those moments of solitude, away from the chaos of your respective lives, that you forged a unique connection. Yunho, with his quiet strength and understanding, had become a source of comfort and support during those difficult times.

The memories of those moments still linger, etched in the corners of your mind. Now, as you both find yourselves facing the complexities of adulthood, it's heartening to see that the genuine care and compassion that existed between you during those formative years has resurfaced.

Since the heart-to-heart conversation in the kitchen, where the weight of secrets were finally lifted, Yunho has transformed before your eyes. He's become someone almost unfamiliar to you, but in the most delightful way.

It's as if the depths of your conversation unleashed a new side of him, a side that perhaps he had kept hidden or hadn't fully embraced until now. The Yunho you're getting to know is a true gentleman, a man who takes the time to say sweet things to you, even if his cheeks and ears turn a delightful shade of crimson in the process.

Shaking off the thoughts you look into the mirror, peering at your reflection with a mix of uncertainty and self-doubt. As you gaze at yourself, a flood of insecurities surfaces. You scrutinise every detail, the lines on your face, the curve of your lips, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. Negative thoughts swirl in your mind like a tempest, questioning whether you're worthy of love from such amazing individuals.

You wonder if they see the same flaws you do, if they'll be disappointed when they look at you more closely, or if they'll realise you're not as perfect as they might have thought. It's a daunting prospect to believe that someone could genuinely care for you, especially when surrounded by a circle of friends who seem to radiate charm and confidence.

The fear of rejection and judgement gnaws at you, threatening to sabotage the happiness you yearn for. You can't help but compare yourself to them, feeling like you're an outsider in their world of popularity and allure. It's as if a little voice inside your head tells you that you'll never truly belong, that you're not good enough to deserve their love and affection.

Tears blur your vision as you try to silence the self-criticism, the lingering doubts that seem to echo through your mind. You question whether you'll ever be ready for a relationship with them, wondering if your insecurities will push them away, destroying the friendship you hold so dear.

Moving yourself from the bathroom, you attempt to find a moment of peace to collect your thoughts. Finding refuge in the comfort of your bedroom, you close the bathroom door behind you and sit down on the floor in the centre of the room, feeling the weight of hesitation settling upon your shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, you're confronted by a flood of thoughts about your mental health issues, trauma, and the complex needs you carry within you. The struggle with anxiety, the lingering effects of past experiences, and the emotional scars that sometimes feel too heavy to bear; they all come rushing back, demanding your attention.

In the midst of this emotional whirlwind, a surge of doubt grips you. You begin to question if the boys you have grown to love, who seem to have it all together, would truly be capable of handling the intricacies of your mental health journey. Would they understand when anxiety creeps in, leaving you paralyzed with fear? Could they be patient and supportive when the shadows of your past cast their long shadows over your present?

It's an agitated storm of self-doubt, wondering if your needs might be too much for them to bear. The fear of burdening them with your struggles gnaws at your heart, and you find yourself grappling with the thought that you might not be deserving of their love and care. You so desperately wish to be happy, and the happiness you feel when you are around the boys is stronger than you have ever felt before. You definitely need to talk to Jisung about this, his advice always seeming to relieve the pressure off your heavy heart.

Today you only expected to confront the eight men about the past, finding out answers and you seem to have got more than you bargained for. One part of you is glad you know their affections towards you, yet one half is torn from having to make the decision.

With your room being shrouded in darkness, the only source of light being the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, you try to relax on the floor, your knees pulled close to your chest, surrounded by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. You know you should be getting to bed, sleeping for the next day which holds lectures withholding important information. Time seems to stand still as you replay the heartfelt words spoken by the eight men.

Amidst the turmoil of your mind, there is a sudden knock on your door. Startled, you glance at the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest. Hesitating to answer, the door slowly creaks open for you, revealing the silhouette of Seonghwa standing there, his expression mirroring the same restlessness that is keeping you awake.

“Can I come in?” Seonghwa quietly asks, scared to be turned down, yet as he sees the gentle smile and nod cover your features, accepting the invitation, the man makes his way in. Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, his presence brings both comfort and a further storm to your heart, as the confession resurfaces in your mind.

"Mingi and I just got back from managing the bar, but I can't sleep," Seonghwa says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

His honesty only deepens the emotional turbulence inside. You are grappling with the same uncertainty, the same fear of what the future may hold.

“Come sit with me,” you say, hoping he will relax next to you.

As he settles down beside you on the floor, there is a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The room is filled with a mixture of emotions – the lines of friendship blurring before your eyes.

“You don't find it weird do you?” Seonghwa says breaking the heavy tension that suddenly coated the room.

“Find what weird?” You question, not sure as to what Seonghwa is asking.

“Us being together, as nine.”

You realise Seonghwa is inquiring about the group's dynamic and relationship.

“Not really…” you start, not knowing if you should disclose your worries with Seonghwa, yet when you see the pleading look on his features, you feel your walls breaking, “honestly I'm just worrying whether I'll fit in, you guys are so close. I don't know if I will be able to be good enough for you guys.” You admit, feeling slightly embarrassed to be admitting such information.

“___,” Seonghwa says your name softly, feeling awfully upset you would even think you weren't good enough to be with them. “You are perfect for us, you don't need to worry about anything. There is nothing you could ever do that would make us think you don't belong with us. If anything, we don't deserve you. The kindness you have shown us, despite the rumours, despite everything has shown us enough. Whether it is with us or not, we just want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.”

Gently, you cast a grateful glance towards Seonghwa, feeling a rush of emotions as his words wash over you. They bring both comfort and solace, embracing you in a tender embrace of understanding and support. It stays silent for a while as you let his words touch your heart.

“I’m doing better…” Seonghwa says, once again breaking the silence and you wonder as to why he suddenly uttered those specific words.

When you shoot him a perplexed glance, Seonghwa responds with a soft chuckle, sensing your confusion. He then proceeds to clarify his statement with a reassuring tone.

“Back when you found me on the rooftop…” Seonghwa trails off as he sees the way you hold your breath reminiscing the night, he relaxes slightly as you nod at him to continue, ignoring the sudden surge of negative emotions clouding your vision.

“The boys encouraged me to seek help. I was feeling so lost and overwhelmed, like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. But I took that first step, and it changed everything. My therapist helped me understand myself on a level I never thought possible,” Seonghwa pauses, trying to gauge your reaction.

“I’m so happy for you Seonghwa, truly. That is amazing.” Seonghwa helping himself, becoming better and finally feeling alive truly brings happiness to your soul.

“When I heard you were in this school, I was really nervous at first, I was scared you were going to see me as the guy from high school who was constantly bothering you.”

Seonghwa huckles along with you, the shared laughter carries the weight of old memories and newfound understanding. You can't help but reminisce about the times when Seonghwa would follow you around school like a loyal companion, a testament to his friendship, even if it did sometimes border on being a little bothersome.

“I was worried you were going to be a different person completely, but when I saw you again for the first time in years, even though you have changed physically, you were definitely still the same.”

“What do you mean?” You question, not sure what his words mean.

“Your laugh, your voice, your humour, your kindness, your eyes. They are all the same as back then. But your eyes, they are brighter now, happier. You are just as, if not, even more, beautiful.” Seonghwa admits, “I don’t think I can lose you again.”

Silence falls upon the two of you as you let the tender words of the man in front of you sink in. The words of love play with your heartstrings, making your end decision even more daunting.

"I don't know what to do," you finally whisper, your voice breaking and Seonghwa immediately realises you are speaking of the confession and proposition, “I like you, all of you, yet it just seems so fast, so new.”

Seonghwa listens to your confession and when he senses the depth of your reciprocated feelings, a whirlwind of emotions engulfs him. He feels like he's floating on cloud nine, as if he's on the brink of something incredibly special and profound. Your words have touched him in a way that nothing else ever has. It's a feeling of euphoria, knowing that the person he cares about so deeply shares those same sentiments.

However, beneath this elation, he also senses the subtle undercurrent of fear and hesitation in you. It's completely understandable after so many years of being apart. The prospect of starting a new chapter, especially one as significant as a romantic relationship, can indeed be daunting. Seonghwa empathises with your feelings entirely.

Yet, despite the uncertainty and the challenges that lie ahead, he can't help but yearn for your affection and the chance to call you his own. The connection you share, one that has spanned years and endured the test of time, is something he cherishes deeply.

In Seonghwa's chest, his heart beats with a mixture of excitement and patience. He knows that these things take time, and he's willing to take it one step at a time with you, ensuring that you both feel comfortable and secure in whatever path you choose to explore. For now, he's content with the knowledge that the feelings are mutual, and he's looking forward to seeing where this newfound chapter of your connection will lead.

Seonghwa instinctively reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring, yet as you remember the confession once more, the action of affection makes your reaction extreme, your cheeks heating up, your heart racing faster than usual.

"We don't have to figure it all out right now," he says gently. "Let's take our time. We'll figure it out together."

“It’s just… I’m still trying to process that you guys are still alive, now I have something else to think about, it all seems too much.”

Seonghwa continues to listen to you and he can almost feel the waves of unease radiating from your very being. It's a raw and vulnerable moment, and he wishes deeply that he could find a way to ease the emotional storm surging behind your eyes.

Unconsciously, his fingers begin to play with yours tenderly. It's a small, comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that he's here, he's present, and he's ready to support you in whatever way you need.

At this moment, Seonghwa isn't focused on any hurry or pressure to define your relationship. Instead, he's fully attuned to your emotions, your concerns, and your hesitations. He knows that sometimes, the most valuable thing he can offer is his patient understanding and unwavering support.

“I’m sorry for not finding you sooner.” He finally speaks, his voice starting to break as he feels his throat tighten up, “I was so lost without you.”

The moment Seonghwa utters those words, you can hear the raw emotion in his voice, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. His admission that he was lost without you hits you deeply, and it's impossible not to feel the depth of his emotions. The warmth of your touch is a silent reassurance, letting him know that you understand that you've also carried your own share of longing and uncertainty.

"I'm here now," you say softly, your voice filled with understanding and compassion. "Sometimes life takes us on different paths, but we find our way back to the people who matter most."

Seonghwa's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he nods, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. In this moment of shared vulnerability, you both find comfort in each other's presence, knowing that the past is behind you and the future is filled with possibility.

“Seonghwa,” You begin to call the man’s name, recognising the way he is starting to succumb to his emotions.

“There is not a single day that went by without us regretting leaving you. We just had to make sure it was safe for you before we came back.”

His heartfelt words pierce your heart, leaving your mind a mess.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. I won’t leave you, any of you.”

In the hushed stillness of the room, you raise the hand that was resting underneath his, to delicately caress Seonghwa's cheek, cupping it tenderly. Your touch is gentle, like a soothing relief to his heartache. With a soft stroke of your thumb, you wipe away the tears cascading down his beautiful face, a gesture of comfort that speaks volumes.

When you reach your other hand to cup his entire face, the sensation sends shivers down his spine. The tenderness of your touch makes his heart race with a mixture of emotions. It feels like it has been an eternity since he felt the warmth of your hands on his skin, and in this moment, it feels like an unsaid accomplishment, a connection he had yearned for, an action he has only seen in his dreams, finally being a reality brings warmth to his entire soul.

Tears continue to fall from his eyes, but your presence, your touch, makes him feel seen and understood in a way he has never imagined, yet he no longer knows if the tears are from sorrow or pure happiness. It's as if the weight of his emotions can finally be shared, knowing that you are there to offer solace and support. In the quiet intimacy of this moment, he finds himself silently thanking fate for bringing him to your room tonight.

The world seems to fade away as Seonghwa places his hands gently on top of yours, his touch sending a rush of warmth through your entire being. In this tender moment, you become highly aware of the intimate proximity between the two of you. Your faces mere inches apart, and as you lock eyes with him, time seems to stand still.

Despite the urge to move away, your body seems to have a will of its own, keeping you locked in this position. It's as if the universe conspired to bring you together in this moment, and you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing you closer to him.

The softness of his gaze, the way his eyes seem to hold a world of unspoken emotions, leaves you captivated. In this delicate embrace, you feel a sense of vulnerability, as if a barrier that once separated you has been lifted, allowing your hearts to commune in a profound and intimate way.

The air around you is charged with unspoken desires and untamed emotions. Your heart races, torn between the familiarity of friendship and the allure of something more. There is a soft tension in the air, like a dance between two souls on the precipice of a love that has been silently blooming.

Continuing to gaze into each other's eyes, the depth of your connection becomes undeniable. It's a moment of reckoning, where you know you must confront the feelings that have been swirling within you both. Yet, in this suspended moment, the fear of the unknown fades, replaced by serene acceptance of the present.

In this captivating scene, you allow yourself to be immersed in the depth of your emotions, knowing that there is also beauty in the uncertainty, in the uncharted territories of the heart. As you share this intimate space with Seonghwa, you feel a sense of wonder, a willingness to explore the unspoken desires that have led you to this enchanting moment.

As the air crackles with unspoken desires, a gentle breeze seems to sweep through the room, carrying an air of anticipation. Neither of you can deny the magnetic pull drawing you closer, and in this intimate moment, you both surrender to the unspoken feelings that have been lingering between you.

“____,” Seonghwa calls your name softly, gazing deeply into your eyes, “I don’t know if I can live without you.”

Staying silent, you aren’t too sure how to respond, the heaviness of the confession making you too flustered to respond.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just needed you to know.”

Seonghwa's hands remain atop yours, his touch a comforting anchor as you lean in ever so slightly.

“Hwa.” You catch the man’s attention with the old nickname, making his heart race even quicker in his chest. Feeling confident, you slowly start to close the gap between your lips, until they are just a breath away from each other.

“Can I…” Seonghwa begins before taking a deep, nervous breath in, “kiss you?” Seonghwa whispers, centimetres away from your lips. It takes you less than a few seconds to reply, even though your heart is beating out of your chest, you gently accept.

With a mix of nervousness and excitement, you close your eyes, savouring the tingling anticipation that courses through your veins.In this suspended moment, time ceases to exist as your lips finally meet in a tender kiss. It's a soft and hesitant exploration, as if both of you are testing the waters of this new intimacy. The touch of his lips against yours sends a quake of delight down your spine, igniting a warmth in your heart that you can't quite put into words. His lips are soft as they move slowly against yours, testing the waters, seeing what you are comfortable with.

Instinctively your bodies draw closer, seeking relief in each other's embrace. The world outside fades away as you lose yourselves in the intoxicating taste of his plump lips. Finding yourself getting drunk off of the way his lips feel against yours, you hesitantly pull away, scared that you will fall in too deep, or make Seonghwa uncomfortable with the sudden rush of love and lust that you begin to feel.

Pulling away, your eyes meet once again with Seonghwa’s brown ones, and you are shocked by the sight. His usual round, soft eyes, now blown out and hooded, an indescribable emotion coursing through his veins.

Before you can utter a single word, you find yourself enveloped in Seonghwa's embrace, his strong arms securely wrapping around your waist as he effortlessly lifts you onto his lap. Your legs settle on either side of his body, the soft carpet cushioning your knees as your chest presses flat against his. The closeness of your bodies sends a surge of electricity through you, and yet, there is an overwhelming sense of comfort in this intimate position.

Gazing into Seonghwa's eyes, you see a mix of desire, lust and tenderness reflected in his gaze. He's careful to gauge your reaction, making sure you are comfortable with this new closeness. Without hesitation, you offer him a reassuring smile, your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation.

When his lips find yours once more, and this time the kiss is less gentle, Seonghwa’s tongue poking at the entrance of your mouth, and you feel an unspoken longing and passion. It's a connection that feels natural and familiar, as if your souls have been searching for this closeness all along. The way his warm lips caress yours is powerful, and you find yourself melting into the embrace, savouring the sensation of being so close to him. The kiss becomes messy as you allow his tongue to enter your mouth, dancing together as you press your body closely against his. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around Seonghwa’s neck, tilting your head to further deepen the intense kiss.

Seonghwa's arms encircle you, holding you close as if he never wants to let go. The world around you seems to fade away, and all that matters is the intimacy of this moment and the way his lips fit so perfectly against yours, the way his touch makes you feel cherished, adored, and hot, so hot.

As the kiss deepens, the boundaries between friendship and something more blur, and you realise that this is a connection that goes beyond labels and definitions. It's a love that defies explanation, a bond that has been quietly growing between you for years.

Seonghwa's touch ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself craving more of his affection, his warmth, his love. It's a feeling that is both thrilling and comforting, like coming home to the one person who understands you in a way no one else can.

His arms begin to rub up and down your back, gently passing underneath your night shirt and landing on your bare hips, gently caressing the bare skin. The warmth of his hands causes a small gasp to emit from your throat, jolting you slightly, making your hips rub gently against Seonghwa’s crotch.

“Fuck, angel.” Seonghwa's low groan reverberates through both of you, the sudden nickname sending shivers down your spine, straight to your core. The way he pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms, still underneath your shirt, tightly around your waist, creates an intoxicating sensation that leaves you breathless. Your skin pressed against his feels like a perfect fit, as if you were always meant to be in this embrace. The raw intimacy of the moment leaves both of you feeling lost in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations.

Seonghwa pulls away from your lips, and you are about to protest, yet the complaints die in your throat as his lips trail to the curve of your neck causing your heart to race, your senses heightened by every touch. He peppers small kisses down the curve of your neck, gently nibbling on the flesh.

The world around you fades into the background, and all that exists is you and Seonghwa. His hands explore the contours of your body with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of his desires. Every caress and every whisper of his breath against your skin ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself surrendering to the passion that courses through your veins.

“Seonghwa,” you whisper, your voice almost getting caught in your throat.

“Yes, angel?” Seonghwa mutters against the skin of your neck.

Unconsciously, the nickname causes you to move your hips against the males, desperately wanting a reaction from him. The deep groan that reverberates from his throat leaves you both satisfied and craving for more simultaneously.

“___,” Seonghwa stutters out, the sudden boldness of your movements leaving his head spinning, “we should stop,”

Pulling away slowly, you give him a worried look, hoping dreadfully you haven't crossed a boundary. Seonghwa gently chuckles at the cute look on your face.

Pinching your cheek softly, he speaks again, “we just started, I want to take my time with you.”

Seonghwa's statement washes over you like a gentle wave, stirring up a delightful mix of excitement and nervousness that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Without hesitation, he draws you close once more, enveloping you in a comforting embrace that radiates warmth and affection. As you rest your head in the crook of his neck, you find yourself basking in the tender intimacy of the moment, cherishing the precious connection you share.

“You should get to sleep, we are going shopping early tomorrow.” Seonghwa’s deep voice reverberates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Are we going shopping?” You question, feeling a sudden rush of sleepiness overcoming your senses.

Nuzzling your head even closer into the crook of Seonghwa's neck, you sense the gentle thump of his heart escalating, mirroring the accelerated rhythm of your own. Although you can’t see it, Seonghwa’s cheeks are a blazing hot shade of red as he tries to calm himself from going further. He realises that pushing you to do something when you're already confused is not the right option. As much as Seonghwa wishes to take you, claim you right here, like he has been dreaming for years, he waits patiently, not wanting to overwhelm you. The lingering effect of the shared kiss intensifies the moment, making it all the more electrifying and unforgettable.

"Let's get you to bed, angel," Seonghwa whispers tenderly, his hold around your waist tightening as he firmly presses your body against his own, lifting you both effortlessly from the floor. Your legs instinctively coil around his waist, and as he carries you towards the bed, the red blush intensifies on Seonghwa's cheeks, his heart racing with every step. The intimate closeness and the warmth of the moment leave him adorably flustered, but his focus remains on ensuring your comfort and care.

Tucking you in the blankets, he sits by the side of your bed, watching your weary form with a violent blush and a wide smile covering his entire face.

"Goodnight, Seonghwa," you mumble softly, settling into the cosy embrace of your pillow. Witnessing your endearing gesture, Seonghwa feels his heart swell with affection, amazed at how he could fall even deeper for you, a feeling he once thought was impossible. As he watches over you, he can't help but feel grateful for the precious moments shared and the special connection that continues to grow between the two of you. With a gentle smile, he lingers for a moment, savouring the sight of you before finally whispering his own goodnight, his heart full of fondness and admiration. Departing from your bedroom with a satisfied smile on his face, Seonghwa heads straight for his bathroom, desperately needing a cold shower to calm his thoughts of you situated in his lap, looking so pretty. He definitely needs to clear those thoughts before he finds himself running back to your bedroom.

----

The soft morning light gently filters through the curtains, causing you stir from your slumber, a warm and blissful feeling spreading through your entire being. You can't help but smile as the memory of the tender kiss you shared with Seonghwa last night floods your mind, filling you with a sense of giddiness and butterflies in your stomach. The way his lips touched yours lingers in your thoughts, leaving you feeling loved and cherished.

With a contented sigh, you stretch your limbs beneath the soft sheets and sit up, the room enveloped in a soft glow that seems to match the radiance in your heart. You can't wait to see your roommates, to share the joy of this morning with them and bask in the warmth of their presence.

Getting up from your bed, the floor feels cool against your feet, contrasting with the warmth in your heart. You take your time getting ready, savouring each moment as you brush your hair and wash your face. There's an air of excitement and anticipation building within you, eager to embrace the day ahead and the company of your dear roommates.

Making your way to the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast fills the air, and your senses are treated to a delightful feast. To your delight, all eight of your friends are gathered at the counter, and you can't help but notice that they all look particularly handsome today, their smiles radiant and welcoming. You aren't sure if it is because of their confession yesterday, or if they always look this good, but something has changed. The sight of them all waiting for you warms your heart, and you feel a mix of gratitude and affection for each member of the group. It's a feeling of belonging and togetherness that washes over you, reinforcing the deep bond you share with them.

Unconsciously, you gravitate towards Seonghwa, the events of last night still at the front of your mind, who beams at your approach with that charming smile that has a way of melting your heart. His eyes light up when he sees you, and the affection in his gaze makes you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

When you get close to him, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, causing a small yelp of surprise to leave your mouth, the action catching you off guard making you feel awfully warm in the face.

What surprises you is that neither of the seven men around you even flinch, though they send a questioning look to Seonghwa who just gently shrugs, an amused, smug expression gracing his features as he holds you close to him, addicted to the way your body feels against him.

Unbeknownst to you, yesterday night was very difficult for Seonghwa. In the quiet hours after your time together, his thoughts were consumed by an intense longing. The memory of your closeness lingered, and his yearning for the touch of your body against his became almost overwhelming. Throughout the night, a compelling desire took hold of him, urging him to find any possible way to feel your presence once more.

He found himself on the brink of leaving his own room multiple times, his heart urging him to seek the physical connection he so deeply carved from you. Each time, he would pull back, reminding himself of the boundaries and the need to respect your space. It was a struggle that played out repeatedly throughout the night, a battle between his longing and his determination to be patient and considerate. Yet now you are here, with your consent, he doesn't feel the need to hold back, wanting to touch you in any way possible.

When you take your seat at the counter, you can't help but notice a bowl of your favourite breakfast waiting for you, a thoughtful gesture from Wooyoung that fills you with warmth. The gesture speaks volumes of the care and consideration your friends have for you, and you feel incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by such loving and attentive individuals.

“I hope it tastes nice.” Wooyoung says, a shy tone to his voice that has you surprised, wondering where his usual flirty, playful self is.

"I'm sure it's lovely, Woo," you reply with a playful tone, using the endearing nickname that sends delightful shivers cascading down Wooyoung's spine. The affectionate term fills his chest with pride and joy, revelling in the fact that you chose a cute name to address him. The sweet exchange between the two of you leaves Wooyoung with a heartwarming sense of happiness and admiration for you.

Munching away on the food, you allow yourself to completely relax as the flavours of the food warm and caress your tongue.

"Are you coming to the mall with us today?" Yeosang is situated on the other side of you and asks in a hushed tone, his eyes filled with hope as he awaits your response. Meanwhile, the other seven members are deeply engrossed in a somewhat serious yet lighthearted debate about whether butts are considered as two or one. Despite their lively discussion, Yeosang remains focused on your answer, eager for you to join them on the outing.

"Yes, I think so. I desperately need some new clothes," you reply with a smile, feeling the warmth of Yeosang’s undivided attention as he turns his entire body towards you, clearly focused on your words. The genuine interest he shows in your plans for the day brings a sense of connection, making you even more eager to spend time with the group. Excitement builds as you look forward to the fun outing with your friends, hoping it will be a memorable day spent together.

Yet something suddenly nags at your mind, causing you to feel a little vulnerable. “Aren't you worried about being seen with me in public? I don't think people would be happy with me being around you.”

“We don't care what people think, you are one of us.” he says, his tone soft as he peers at your flustered reaction, a smile graces his face.

You feel a rush of flustered emotions as you notice Yeosang's gaze lingering on your lips before returning to your eyes. The memory of the kiss shared with Seonghwa last night briefly crosses your mind, sparking curiosity about what it might be like to kiss the others. However, you quickly push those thoughts away, not wanting to get carried away and get your hopes up too high.

Yeosang, seemingly pleased with your reaction, gently smirks before turning back to the group. Little does he know, his actions have left you feeling even more flustered. As you watch him, you can't help but wonder how he might flirt with you and what that could lead to. The possibility of such interactions excites you, but you also remind yourself to be cautious and not read too much into it.

In his own silent moment, Yeosang decides to take some pointers from Wooyoung on flirting, hoping to make you smile and blush like this forever. The prospect of seeing your cute flustered face becomes a delightful goal, one he can't wait to achieve.

----

The late morning sun casts a golden glow on the bustling streets as you and your roommates step out of the white house. Due to the large shopping mall being a short walk away, the nine of you decide to walk there to enjoy the warm sun, the excitement in the air is palpable. You had mentioned that you needed some new clothes, and the eight men were more than eager to join you on this shopping adventure.

Walking to the mall turned out to be quite the amusing experience. As the group strolled along, you found yourself at the back, flanked by Wooyoung and San, who adamantly refused to let anyone else take their spot next to you. Their sweet insistence brought a warm blush to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by their attention.

Seonghwa and Mingi, not ones to back down easily, bickered with Wooyoung and San, each vying for the chance to be by your side during the walk there. The friendly competition for your company added a playful dynamic to the group, and even Hongjoong couldn't resist getting involved, trying to mediate the situation.

In the end, Hongjoong managed to calm the playful dispute, promising Seonghwa, Mingi, and the others that they could take turns to walk with you on the way back home. Although the rest of the group may have been sulking slightly at not being able to be next to you now, they all understood the importance of sharing the time with you and were happy to have their chance later.

Arriving at the grand entrance of the shopping mall, your eyes widen in awe. The place is massive, with countless stores, boutiques, and displays that promise a shopping experience like no other. You are not able to contain your excitement and feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

Strolling through the mall, the group seems to split into smaller clusters, each one of your roommates offering to accompany you to different sections based on your fashion preferences.

“Are you guys sure you don't need anything?” You question for the third time as they refuse to look in any shop that you walk past.

Upon hearing a chorus of playful "no's" filling the air, you can't help but roll your eyes with a mixture of amusement and affection. Their stubbornness to stay by your side, despite knowing it makes your heart race, only serves to make you appreciate their care and attention even more. It's endearing to see how much they value being with you, and while their determination might fluster you, it also warms your heart to know how cherished you are within the group.

When you reach a particular clothing store, which you usually shop at, you are happy to see they have sales on a lot of clothes. Making your way in, you giggle at the way the eight aimlessly follow you in. They disperse slightly, looking at many different clothing racks, searching for something that would suit you, or something they would like to see you wearing.

Wandering through the racks of clothes, you notice Wooyoung seems particularly focused. He keeps scanning the dresses with a determined expression, occasionally pulling one off the rack to examine it closely. It's clear that he's on a mission, and you can't help but wonder what he's up to.

"Hey, Wooyoung, find anything interesting?" you question, curious about his intent.

Wooyoung turns to you with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, just looking for something special," he replies cryptically.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his mysterious response. The boys exchange knowing glances, clearly in on whatever plan Wooyoung has hatched. It seems as if they have a small mission in their minds.

A little while later, Wooyoung finally emerges from the racks of dresses, triumphantly holding one up for you to see. "Look! This would look stunning on you," Wooyoung, exclaims, holding up a beautiful black dress that caught his eye. It definitely isn't your style, so you wonder as to why he would ask you to try it on.

You examine the short, form-fitting dress that Wooyoung kindly offered, you realise it's not your usual style, and you feel hesitant about trying it on, especially since it's on the sexier side and not something you'd typically wear. Before you can politely decline, San appears at your side, expressing his agreement with Wooyoung's suggestion. He wraps an arm around your shoulder in a tender gesture, encouraging you to give it a try while also assuring you that it's entirely your choice.

Touched by their compliments and support, you gently accept the dress, feeling grateful for their thoughtfulness. With a slightly doubtful smile, you make your way to the changing room, and to your surprise, you notice that all of them follow you eagerly, clearly invested in how you'll look in the dress.

“Guys you don't all need to come.” You exclaim, chuckling at their eagerness, “it’s just a dress.”

“We have never seen you in a dress before,” Mingi replies, an adorable pout on his face, the others agreeing with him. Chuckling again, you turn around to walk into the changing room. Inside the changing room, you slip into the dress, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You realise this must've been their plan and you chuckle to yourself at the thought of them conspiring for this very moment. It gives you a boost of confidence knowing they are eager to see you dressed up nicely.

Standing in the changing room, you find yourself struggling to reach the zipper on the back of the dress, you let out a small groan of frustration. You contemplate taking the dress off and giving up on the idea of trying it on. However, in that moment, a mischievous idea crosses your mind, and a playful smirk appears on your face.

Deciding to have a little fun with the situation, you poke your head out of the changing room, leaving the zipper undone deliberately and you see eight faces waiting patiently.

You gently call out to the men outside, "Hey, I might need a little help here."

San, Wooyoung, and the others glance your way, and their eyes widen when they notice your insinuations. Instantly, they catch on to your playful game, and a mischievous glint appears in their eyes as well.

Wooyoung quickly volunteers, stepping forward with a grin, "I'll help!"

The others slightly grumble, falling back into their seats as you allow Wooyoung to make his way into the changing room, where you hold up the dress with your arms. Noticing the way Wooyoung's eyes are chasing your form up and down, you feel a surge of confidence rush through your body. Maybe trying on this dress wasn't such a bad idea after all.

With a teasing smile, you turn around, allowing Wooyoung to reach for the zipper. As his fingers brush against your bare back while he gently pulls up the zipper, a shiver runs down your spine, and you can't help but exchange a knowing look with him through the mirror. When his eyes meet yours, you notice the dark look coating his eyes, making your knees feel weak.

“How does it look?” You whisper, suddenly feeling a little insecure at how tight the dress is.

Wooyoung's fingers glide slowly from the zipper of the dress to your hips, where he gently pulls you closer against his body, his chest now pressed against your back. The proximity between you two sends a shiver through your body, and your heart races with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

His hands gently massage your hips, and Wooyoung can't help but revel in the sensation of your touch against his skin. The way your bodies fit together creates a warm and intimate connection that has him feeling drunk off of your touch. He suddenly feels immensely grateful that you trusted him to come into the dressing room, along with letting him see you in the dress first.

“It looks amazing,” Wooyoung whispers in your ear, his lips brushing your earlobe, he continues, “You’d look better without it.” His words cause another shiver to ripple through your body, the insinuations of his words has your head spinning.

“Wooyoung, behave.” Hongjoong’s authoritative voice sounds from behind the curtain of the dressing room and you realise that the seven on the other side must have heard what Wooyoung uttered.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Wooyoung reluctantly moves away from your body, grumbling under his breath. Once the curtain opens, you turn around to face the group, playfully twirling in the dress, feeling a newfound confidence and excitement.

Emerging from the fitting room, you're greeted by a symphony of reactions from your roommates. Mingi and Seonghwa’s expressions border on awe, their mouths hanging slightly agape as they drink in the way the dress contours your figure. Yeosang and Jongho, aware of their own reactions, quickly avert their gaze, trying to avoid any obvious signs of their appreciation for the dress on you.

Yunho and San's widened eyes trace your silhouette, an unspoken admiration evident in their glances. They want you to feel comfortable but can't help conveying how striking you look, their stare piercing you. Hongjoong, known for his unreadable demeanour, studies you intently, his features carefully neutral. When your curious gaze meets his, he raises an eyebrow in a challenge, his lips curling into a smirk as he openly checks you out.

In a playful move, you send a teasing wink his way, a side of you he rarely witnesses. The effect is immediate, causing a noticeable flush to creep up Hongjoong's cheeks. His eyes widen slightly in surprise at your flirtatious gesture, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. Your unexpected action has triggered a shift in his usually composed demeanour, stirring a rush of thoughts and feelings that he's unaccustomed to.

The contrast between your usual innocence and this unexpected flirtation leaves Hongjoong's heart racing and his mind aflutter with indecent notions. Your playfulness has caught him off guard, and it's evident in the way his cheeks continue to heat up. The dynamic between you two has shifted momentarily, and the lingering effects of your flirtatious exchange are bound to make the day even more interesting.

"You look stunning!" Mingi exclaims, his eyes bright with admiration.

"You were right. This dress is perfect for her," San chimed in, his eyes not leaving the dress hugging your body.

“I’ll go pay for it,” Hongjoong says, getting off the chair he was comfortably resting in.

“What? No, I'll pay.” You insist, trying to chase after Hongjoong, who just sends you a sweet smile before heading towards the exit of the fitting rooms.

“Bring it to me when it's off, love.” he says before turning away to walk off, yet he stops and quickly turns around to meet your eyes again, swiftly he looks you up and down, before smiling again, “you look beautiful.”

Once again, Hongjoong moves to the exit, some of the others following him, not before glancing at you one more time, to make sure the image of you in the dress stays in their minds. You attempt to follow him, not wanting him to pay for something like this. Yet, Wooyoung, who is still in the changing room, swiftly grabs your hand, gently pulling you back into the cubicle.

“He likes to pay for things, it’s how he shows his affection, amongst other ways…” Woooyoung trails off and you can’t help but wonder what he is implying, “now, do you need help taking it off too?”

“Wooyoung.” It is San whose voice sounds this time, causing Wooyoung to playfully roll his eyes.

It's just this dress, you tell yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes diligently observes your every gesture from across the expanse of the clothing store. A faint scowl adorns their features as they take in the scene playing out before them. Arched eyebrows frame their intent gaze, as they persist in their scrutiny, trying to think of where they've encountered you in the past. Curiously, the sight of your seemingly contented presence among the group of eight men evokes an unease within them. Finally they have found Ateez, yet they are extremely unaware as to who you are.

As the day wears on, you notice that your friends seem to be going out of their way to impress you. They help you find the perfect clothes, hold doors open for you, and even sneak in small gestures of affection, like stealing glances or offering gentle touches on your arm. Seonghwa skillfully manoeuvres his arm around your waist as the two of you walk side by side, gently tugging you closer to his side. His touch creates a sense of intimacy. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he conveys a silent closeness, a shared moment of connection that transcends words. The warmth of his body against yours and the weight of his chin on your shoulder create a comforting sensation.

"Wait, this sweater looks so cosy. You have to try it on!" Jongho insisted, handing you a soft, knitted sweater that looked like it would be perfect for chilly evenings.

"And these shoes! They would go perfectly with that dress you tried earlier," Yunho adds, bringing over a pair of elegant black shoes.

Continuing the shopping spree at the large mall, you can’t help but be flattered by their attention and affection. Every time you pause to admire an item for a little too long, one of the eight men would quickly grab it off the rack, insisting on buying it for you. It was both endearing and overwhelming to see their determination to spoil you with gifts, no matter how hard you try to protest.

Trying on each item, you can't help but marvel at how well your roommates know your style and preferences. Their attention to detail and the effort they put into finding clothes that suit your taste makes your heart swell with gratitude.

The more the shopping bags pile up, the more you protest, telling them that they do not need to buy everything you like. Alas, your roommates are insistent, assuring you that they want to spoil you and show their appreciation for your presence in their lives.

During a quick break at a coffee shop, you find yourself sitting next to Yunho, who has been rather quiet this entire trip, it seems as if there is something on his mind, bothering him. When you look over to him, you notice he is peering at you with a fond expression. He takes a deep breath, as if he is gathering the courage to say something important, the tips of his ears turning a dark shade of red.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know that... I really care about you," he begins, his voice hushed, soft and earnest , the traces of nervousness evident in his tone. The abrupt confession momentarily leaves you in a state of astonishment, as the unexpected display of affection from him causes your heart to quicken its pace.

Throughout the day, you've been consistently taken aback by the sudden surge of affection from every man. Normally, the casual slight flirting is something you’ve become accustomed to, but now it has escalated to an intense level, and the realisation that there are deeper emotions beneath their words leaves you feeling light-headed and in a perpetual state of fluster.

"Later, can we talk, one on one, just us two? You deserve an apology and an explanation for my behaviour." Yunho continues.

“I’d love that Yunho.” You smile at the man, who looks exactly like a puppy as his eyes light up with happiness.

His confession leaves your heart pounding in your chest, and before Yunho can respond, Jongho approaches the two of you with a smile on his face. "Don't forget about me," he says playfully, though there is a hint of sincerity in his eyes. "I feel the same way. You're truly special to all of us."

Their sincere words have a profound effect on you, causing a rush of warmth to spread throughout your being. The honesty in their expressions and the depth of their feelings touch you deeply, leaving you unable to hide the telltale signs of your emotions. Your cheeks flush with a gentle heat, the emotions swirling within you.

When the day draws to a close, you leave the mall with bags filled with new clothes and hearts full of cherished memories. Realising that you are indeed fortunate to have such incredible people in your life who love you so deeply.

Making your way home, arms laden with shopping bags, you feel an overwhelming sense of happiness and belonging. The affectionate gestures of your roommates have touched you deeply, and you know that you are truly surrounded by people who care for you. In the end, it wasn't just about the clothes or the gifts; it was about the love and warmth that flowed between you. Settling back into the house, you can’t help but smile as you look around at your roommates, each one beaming with happiness.

“I am going to put all this stuff away,” you exclaim, announcing your short departure.

"Hey, just so you know, dinner will be ready in about an hour or two," Yunho calls out to you as you busily move the numerous bags into your room. With a quick thumbs-up in his direction, you respond in a light-hearted manner, before disappearing behind your closed bedroom door. Your actions prompt a soft chuckle from him, finding your response quite endearing and cute.

Alone in the quiet of your room, you take a deep breath, attempting to steady the rising tide of anxiety that threatens to engulf you. Today had been a day unlike any other, filled with warmth that had, for a fleeting moment, lifted your spirits. The kindness and affection of the boys had been a balm to your soul, enveloping you in a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a while.

Reflecting on the day's events, you're struck by a poignant realisation – it was indeed one of the best days you've had in a long time. Laughter, shared moments, and the genuine care of your roommates were woven together to create memories that you'll treasure. And yet, despite the joy that had enveloped you, a shadow of apprehension had loomed over the day, casting a veil of unease over your experience.

The sensation of being watched, the lingering feeling that someone was trailing your every move, had been a constant presence in the back of your mind. It had woven its way into the fabric of your day, colouring even the happiest moments with a sense of discomfort. The weight of someone's presence, real or imagined, clung to you like a second skin, refusing to be shaken off.

Her face was everywhere and the worst thing is, you feel like you’ve seen it before.

---

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mcflymemes · 7 months

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PROMPTS FROM A COURT OF WINGS AND RUIN * assorted lines from the novel by sarah j. maas, adjust as necessary

only you can decide what breaks you. only you.

tonight, i want you to wear that crown to bed. only the crown.

i believe everything happens for a reason.

this could be a very bad idea.

we can make whatever rules we want.

leave a note... or tell me next time.

you have every right to question me.

i don't see you spouting poetry.

i missed you. every second. every breath.

you're my equal. and as much as that means we have each other's backs in public, it also means we grant each other the gift of honesty... of truth.

is there a purpose to your visit, or may i return to my book?

kindness can thrive even amongst cruelty.

it's a rare person to face who they are and not run from it... not be broken by it.

it's fine if you drink directly from it.

i wish i had been there to stop it. i should have been there to stop it.

my goal was bigger than revenge.

i belong to no one, but my heart belongs to you.

i hadn't realized i was a villain in your narrative.

there are many types of strength beyond the ability to wield a blade and end lives.

you are your own person, you make your own choices.

i'd like a word.

you are a better friend to me than i ever was to you.

i want to share this bed with you. i want you to hold me.

remember that you are a wolf, and you cannot be caged.

we're all a little broken in our own ways... in places no one might see.

i would have waited five hundred more years for you. a thousand years.

you are a warrior, and warriors know when to pick their fights.

they took what is ours. and we do not allow these crimes to go unpunished.

i believe that everything happened exactly the way it had to... so i could find you.

it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters.

ready to be wicked?

one life may change the world.

i missed you, too.

this is war. we don't have the luxury of good ideas - only picking between the bad ones.

it is a new world, and we must decide how we are to end this old one and begin it anew.

i see all of you. and there is not one part that i do not love with everything i am.

it'll be dangerous.

i have no regrets in my life, but this.

i will find you in the next world, the next life.

what we think to be our greatest weakness can sometimes be our biggest strength.

i won't tell anyone unless you say so.

when you erupt, make sure it is felt across worlds.

you bow to no one.

leave this world a better place than how you found it.

you do not fear. you do not falter. you do not yield.

will you come with me on this adventure, and all the rest?

do not get distracted. do not linger.

it's already ended badly.

for someone who was just dead, you seem remarkably relaxed.

they're terribly cruel to me.

here's to family reunions.

i will fight with everything i have, too.

what time are we back in the training ring tomorrow?

daylight is a precious resource.

#mcflymemes #dramatic prompts #a court of wings and ruin #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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drkineildwicks · 2 months

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More BH6

Mood music~

Black-hearted evil, brave-hearted hero, I am all I am all of me!

So I sketched this back when Keanu Reeves was first announced as Shadow the Hedgehog and I was playing all the Shadow the Hedgehog music I had—no I am still not over my BS on that and I don’t anticipate that changing anytime soon but anywho.

Saying all that, I’ve been working on the sequel to (Not So) Hated by Life Itself (read it now on FFN and AO3), got it up to 358 pages and 145+K words with 27 consecutive chapters and an actual semi-proper outline now! Don’t know if I’ll have it done in time for BH6 month next year, barring some sudden burst of writing in a month like I did for (Not So) Hated by Life Itself, but at the very least progress has been pretty steady on this.

On the topic of the art, I’ve shown Obake’s armor design before, but recently I’ve been toying with giving him Doc Ock arms, which makes sense for the Live and Learn universe because he and Hiro made a robot squid for Fred’s movie. Also decided to go full-on sketchy and messy for this with some eye-searing colors and then to put the icing on the cake added a little animation and made it a gif—which required a lot of going around my elbow to get to my thumb, if I saved it using Photoshop’s steps it would require opening a web page and would never load despite being able to save an actual gif before. Ended up loading the preview, which would low, and then right-click + saving the gif from there. Photoshop why did you purposely screw this up.

Find it on eclipse here, as always please be kind and reblog, not repost, thank you! :D

Done in Adobe Photoshop.

Non-gif under the cut:

#bh6 #big hero 6 #big hero six #big hero 6 the series #big hero six the series #obake #live and learn series #time-traveling obake au #adobe photoshop #(not so) hated by life itself #ready to (live life anew)

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btsmosphere · 5 months

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 4: We Aren't Heroes, Honey

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?~ 🗲this chapter: A chaotic arrival turns everything on its head, and the boys are ready to let you in on their real game.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader, side established vmin 🗲word count: 5.9k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, injury, blood, weapons

a/n: if you hadn't already noticed, vmin is a side pairing in this fic! I probably won't add that in every chapter description tho, since they don't really have a plot revolving around them, but they are together as side characters because I love them mwahahaha🤩while we will learn more about them, they have an entire backstory, one of the many things I know about this universe that never made it "on screen"👀 I also just want to say how thrilled I am that people are enjoying this fic! To those of you who have left me comments, reblogged with sweet and supportive tags or sent in asks, it means the absolute world and I love you all💜💜

(previously)

“I did exactly what I’m training to do.”

“Like scare him half to death?”

Dropping your head, you gazed at your hands, wishing anew that you didn’t have this complicated curse that drove people away. That made you into a danger.

But you didn’t have the words or the will to explain this to the obstinate Jungkook.

“See you at training,” you spoke flatly, and stepped away.

See him at training you did. Not that he was any more helpful than normal.

As always, you gritted your teeth and tried to run through the same actions, still getting used to them. Over the course of the next few sessions, you certainly noticed an improvement, your powers coming more and more naturally to you than you had thought possible at first.

Still, Jungkook clearly disagreed.

You stood in the centre of the training space, arm raised. Just as you had been doing for the past half hour, you shot a bolt, expecting to hear the rattle of the target when you met it. And beyond that, the same heavy silence that always filled your practises.

Instead, your training ‘partner’ stepped nonchalantly in front of the shot.

Eyes widening, you closed your fist, shutting off the flow of power as fast as possible. But as you gawped in outrage, Jungkook raised a hand, easily deflecting the jet of blue electricity that had escaped with a quick burst of his own gold lightning.

Lowering his hand as if he hadn’t just placed himself in front of something deadly, he stuffed it into his pocket and smirked.

“What are you-” you spluttered, “you- you should be careful!”

“If I’m really expected to babysit you, I would hope to see more improvement than that,” he replied easily, “I mean, great, you can shoot, but attacking isn’t what this is all about.”

You raised an eyebrow, watching as he slowly walked towards you.

“Imagine I was someone else,” he continued.

“I wish,” you muttered, adding in an exaggerated eye roll. Jungkook didn’t comment on that, but you saw his gaze harden.

“Someone without my powers,” he drawled, “I would be dead.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to walk across while I was training!”

“You’re not supposed to expect it,” he shot back.

“And when exactly do you forsee me shooting lightning bolts out in public?”

At last, he seemed surprised by your response. Really, he thought you were raring to go out and terrorise the streets? You scoffed, ready to return to your usual mutual silence, but he recovered himself.

“You should control them in here as well,” he spoke, though there was less malice behind it this time. “You’ve already scared V shitless once.”

Arms folded, he turned his back on you, abandoning the conversation.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you muttered, not really caring whether he decided to pay attention or not, “I’m trying.”

But if his step faltered a little, you didn’t notice. He kept his back to you and walked away.

You had been doing a steady amount of work each day with your powers. It didn’t take long for the others to be proven right as you noticed it got easier both in and out of the training rooms as time stretched on. With your powers in use so frequently, they didn’t often try to break out when you least expected it anymore.

And though it hadn’t been long, you were getting a sense of the motions of this unconventional household.

On your way to training, you would pass the others at work, with or without their powers. It made sense that superheroes (it felt strange thinking of them as superheroes, but you supposed that was what you all were, in a way) needed to work out physically as well, to give them the upper hand in any fights.

Not that you could imagine them fighting... Most of the time. Sometimes you would see the power inherent in Jimin’s stance when he threw weights heavier than you could lift across the room with a flick of a finger. Or the deadly speed and precision as Hoseok darted around impossible obstacles.

But then they would huddle around the tv with you in the evening, cradling steaming bowls of food prepared by Jin or Yoongi, usually. The sight of V bundled in a fluffy blanket, laughing at Jimin more than the film, made it hard to believe he was some supernatural force of nature.

Namjoon, though. That, you could believe. He was the rarest sight in the house, even above the enigmatically quiet V.

However, if he caught you and Jungkook on your way out of practise, he would always beam like you were his children, ignoring the scowls that no doubt adorned your faces. Jin did the same, always clapping Jungkook on the shoulder in praise.

If only the others knew how Jungkook neglected the job they believed he was doing.

But as much as you wondered how different it would be if Namjoon had continued teaching you, you understood it couldn’t be that way. Not when he was constantly holed up in his office, or staring at a tablet and tugging his hands through his hair. His job seemed to be important, always moving with hurried purpose.

So then, with all the people and noise you were surrounded by now, it was a shock when things turned quiet.

Before this, you had lived on your own. Woken up each day just to head to work, Kuyang and the lab workers the only faces you saw before returning back to empty space.

So why was it this hard to get used to again?

Sometimes, the house emptied. Not totally, but since it was usually Jungkook that remained with you, it may as well have been. Each time you came from practice to find the house deserted, a scowl would etch itself into his face and he would retreat back to the gym, or somewhere. You never bothered to follow him.

When this happened, you kept your eyes on the news. If they were superheroes – which they must be, what other job could a bunch of powered people have? – then surely they would show up?

But without fail, the news stayed quiet. Either that, or heroes like Bolt or Monsoon (another worshipped figure in your city) instead had stamped out some threat and were being celebrated as always.

You weren’t sure what it was, but something made you shut off the tv when the rest returned, not wanting them to see what you had been looking for.

Generally, though, they didn’t leave you alone for too long, which was nice. You were nearly always in the communal spaces, since you had nothing to do in your room, bare as it was.

So it was when you heard hissed voices that you realised maybe you should let them have more time without you.

“She’s not more important! I don’t get why I have to, of all of us-“

Still hidden in the corridor, you froze when you heard Jungkook’s hushed voice in the living room.

“We’re fine to be down one, it’s not particularly risky,” someone replied.

“Please, can’t one of you stay for once? I already have to spend half my time with her!”

Gulping, you retreated the way you had come. You shouldn’t be hearing this, you knew that. Above all, you couldn’t stand the flicker of hurt that bled through you at the venomous words, though you ought to be used to them by now.

Sitting in your room, you idly played around, forming a ball of blue static that hovered above your palm. You sighed as you tossed it from hand to hand. This should be impressive, but you knew you were still incredibly clumsy with your powers compared to the others: Jungkook made sure you knew it.

But you stayed there, enjoying being able to use your powers without purpose or judgment.

After a while, a tap on your door heralded Yoongi calling you for dinner. Any tension you had sensed earlier when they didn’t know you were listening had dissipated.

Of course, Jungkook was ignoring you, but it was better that way. He was battling Hobi with chopsticks instead, trying to score a piece of meat from his plate as his opponent shrieked in protest. Jimin was falling onto the table with laughter, Yoongi groaning as he took a seat and slid a bowl to you.

Quietly thanking him, you began to eat without trying to muscle into the conversation. It was clear how comfortable these boys were together, having been arguing not long before and now joking around with the air free of bad feelings.

Even though you had never predicted your life going in this direction, you found yourself grateful. Despite the obvious Jungkook issue, having these vibrant people around you was such a stark contrast to your lonely state before Bolt had tried to kill you.

You were only reminded of the frosty conversation you had accidentally eavesdropped when, a few days later, you got the afternoon free of Jungkook.

As usual, that morning the two of you occupied the same room, training by yourselves. Today, Jungkook never offered so much as a word, and almost sprinted away after the hour was up. You couldn’t bring yourself to complain, instead taking the time to rest and return lazily upstairs at your own pace.

When you arrived, the unfortunately familiar sight of an empty apartment waited for you.

Funny, though. You hadn’t seen Jungkook come back downstairs as he normally did when the others went out.

Shrugging it off, you headed for the shower. It had almost slipped your mind by the time you emerged, but confusion instantly resurfaced when you were faced with the back of Jin’s head.

Stepping around the sofa and into the main space, you caught his attention.

“Ah, Y/N,” he greeted, turning away from the tv show he had quietly in the background.

“Jin,” you smiled, “where’s Jungkook?”

A smirk bloomed on his face before you had the chance to realise how that might have sounded.

“I didn’t realise you would miss him,” he teased.

Rolling your eyes, you sunk onto the other sofa.

“I’m not sorry to see him gone,” you quickly backpedalled, “but I just… thought you had all gone out again.”

“Well, Kook was feeling left out,” Jin explained, “I know you two aren’t exactly the best of friends but he’s still been helping you out, so we thought it was fair he doesn’t have to do that all the time and miss out on our… stuff.”

You nodded along as you understood the situation. As if to distract from his strangely vague ending statement, Jin jumped straight in again with a chipper voice.

“But I heard you’re getting much better! Jungkook says he can trust you to work independently, so maybe you won’t have to endure each other’s company as much!”

Now that made you laugh. Loudly. Jungkook had better trust you to work independently – he forced you to do it half the time anyway with his reluctance to teach you.

Jin seemed pleased with your reaction, and you two carried on chatting. It took you a while to even notice his quick glances at the door, the slight jittering leg, the distracted way he watched the show with glazed eyes, not fully taking it in.

When he suggested dinner, he all but sprang from the sofa. With a light frown, you followed him. What was giving him so much nervous energy?

Outside was dark by now, but that didn’t stop Jin’s eyes straying to the black sky visible through the window.

For once, you actually acquiesced to him rejecting your offer to help in the kitchen. He seemed pleased to have his hands busy, even if his knife occasionally clattered too loudly on the counter or oil splatted out of the slightly too-hot pan.

But all that was forgotten when a commotion suddenly shocked the air. The main door must be fully soundproof: that was the only explanation for the way it was silent one second, and the next raised voices were almost at the top of the stairs.

Whipping around to face the sudden interruption, Jin brandished his spatula in panic for a moment. You jumped from your seat.

Then Namjoon swept into the room, long coat swishing as he marched across the room, face set. Looking first at him in panic, your eyes returned to the others following him in and your jaw dropped.

Between Jimin and Jungkook, they were supporting V, whose head drooped alarmingly, legs barely making purchase on the floor. You were frozen on the spot as they hauled him past you. You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi come in until items were being shoved roughly from the counter to the floor to make space to lay V down there.

Swallowing, you staggered back a step, watching with wide eyes at his collapsed form. Sweat beaded on his furrowed brow, feverish spasms weakly shaking his body.

“What happened?” Jin exclaimed, panic shaking his voice.

A storminess brewed in Namjoon’s eyes, which glowed a little red though you weren’t sure if he noticed he was doing that. Turning to Jin with a serious expression, all he said was:

“Our suspicions were true.”

His words meant nothing to you, but the way Jin’s face paled struck fear through you.

Closest to the table, Jimin’s eyes glistened with tears as he clutched V’s hand, murmuring to him. You couldn’t hear him, but you had the feeling it wasn’t for you to hear and turned your eyes away.

Not a moment later, a harsh shove had you stumbling to the side, Jungkook barging past. You couldn’t even spite him for it. The panic spiralling through you at the state of your friend was painful enough, but these boys were his family. You couldn’t imagine the depth of their worry right now.

“What do we do?” Jungkook demanded, stopping in front of Namjoon and Jin. His frame was taught, nearly shaking as he looked to his hyungs for answers.

They always seemed to know what to do, but the uncertainty on Jin’s face as he stepped closer to the unconscious V was concerning.

“W-what happened?” he asked.

Hope was wringing his hands beside him, but spoke up.

“It was like we thought, when we showed up. We knew we had to get out, but B- he caught us, right at the end. We were just going, but V freaked, and-and then he- then- I don’t know what it was hyung, but he shot something…”

Hobi’s voice was bordering on hysterical, and as he trailed away, he leant forwards to pull V’s jacket aside. Jimin whimpered, turning his face away to bury it further against V’s arm.

There, on V’s torso, a section of his shirt was mangled, a bloodied shape seemingly etched into his side. Though the bloodstained shirt made it difficult to see, you couldn’t mistake that. It was no gunshot wound – you had seen something like this before.

The injury was fairly large, shaped something like a star. A familiar shape instantly sprung into your imagination, metal that spit sparks as it flew across the room, latching onto the wall at the other end.

Except, this time it had certainly not been used in lab conditions.

“I- I don’t know,” Jin was stuttering, “I’ve never seen something like this before…”

The silence was totally stifling, Jin’s admission met with disbelief. Namjoon ran hands roughly through his hair, biting at his cheek.

“We have to DO SOMETHING!”

Jungkook’s yell made you flinch a little. He moved forcefully, returning to the table with a handful of tea towels and thrusting one at Hope.

“Let’s just- stop the bleeding, at least-”

“He has powers, the bleeding isn’t the issue, Jungkook-”

“Do you have any better ideas?!”

His eyes flickered a blazing gold as he spun to yell at Jin, something he would never normally do. But right now, that was the least of his worries. He trembled from head to toe with tension, and you could see the shine of tears he was unable to will away from his eyes.

“Right, yes,” Jin swallowed, taking the towel and pressing it to the wound, as Hobi was already doing.

At the no doubt painful contact, though, V jerked a little, purple flame shooting from his hands. It was brief, but you all jumped back from the sudden heat.

“Why’s he doing that?” Jimin’s voice thrummed with underlying fear, “he hasn’t had an outburst in…”

The others only looked between themselves, equally lost.

After a moment, V hadn’t moved again, and Jimin was the first to gravitate back to his side.

Frowning at the ground, you willed your memory to work faster. Jimin��s heartbreaking calls for V, hand pressed desperately to his cheek though he was met with no response, had you racing through your memories.

Kuyang had had you in charge of all his safety files back at the lab, but right now you didn’t have access to the computer with them all stored on. It was at the tip of your tongue, just out of reach. You frantically grasped for any hint of memory about this particular weapon.

“Iodine,” you muttered. Your eyes widened as it dawned on you.

No one heard.

“Iodine,” you repeated, louder this time, “do you have iodine?”

Heads turned towards you, as if they had forgotten you were there at all. Jimin’s tearful face emerged, tentatively hopeful as you spoke.

“That wound is radioactive, it’s what’s messing with his powers. We need to give him some before it gets too far into his bloodstream.”

You spoke with a calm urgency, grateful you could keep your voice from wavering. Trusting your firm tone, Jin hurriedly nodded, darting away down the corridor without a look back.

As you watched him go, you caught Namjoon’s gaze. You stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do with yourself, and his piercing stare startled you. A frown tightened his features and you had the odd sensation that he was calculating you.

Still, he said nothing. But it seemed someone else was less afraid to breach the silence.

“Who put you in charge?”

Only Jungkook had the sense to question you, glaring from where he had taken over pressing on V’s wound.

“This weapon, it uses radiation-“ you began.

“How do you know?” He cut you off. “Isn’t iodine toxic? You’re trying to kill him-”

“It’s the only way-”

“I won’t let you touch him!”

Tentatively stepping forward, you fixed Jungkook with a level gaze. His eyes narrowed, distrustful.

“It’s only toxic if we give too much,” you explained, forcing your voice to stay calm, “he has powers, he should be able to take it. Like Jin said, with powers, you can withstand more bleeding than others. It’s the radiation poisoning that’s hurting him, not the wound.”

Though his teeth were gritted and his glare lost none of its ferocity, he kept quiet.

“We need to stop it,” you spoke with finality.

Just then, Jin dashed back into the room, bottles and packets nearly spilling from his arms before he deposited them on the counter. Rushing forwards to meet him, you spotted some other bottles too.

“Pentetic acid? Where did you get-“

“It helps, doesn’t it?” Jin supplied, and you left it at that. It was another agent Kuyang had had on the safety files as a radiation blocker, but you had never expected to see it outside a lab.

You didn’t complain, though. V needed all the help he could get.

Jin’s fingers fumbled with a small needle as he pulled it out and filled it, looking to you for confirmation.

Nodding, you hastily stepped out of his way, planting yourself beside Jungkook. He watched warily, though you were sure it helped that it was Jin applying the remedy and not you.

A stony silence fell once Jin pulled away. Of course, it wouldn’t work instantly, but you hoped with all your might that some change would be visible. These chemicals were dangerous, the cure to this weapon difficult to apply for good reason. It was a weapon after all.

The bin opened and closed, the room so quiet you could hear the used needle falling inside it.

Hope sunk weakly into a chair, eyes still fixed on his injured brother. Jimin remained close to V, gripping his hand despite the threat of the fire that could burst from them at any moment.

Your eyes slid to Jungkook at your side. Of course he didn’t look away from V.

It felt as if your heart was squeezing its way up your throat, the longer V remained motionless. He had been seriously hurt, and though you were confident in your cure, having learned it from the weapon’s creator, the nagging worry that you might have made it worse refused to go away.

V could be hurt. He could – you didn’t even dare to think it.

The others would never forgive you. Jungkook would never forgive you. You would never be able to forgive yourself if you caused something like this.

And beyond all that, your mind was running frantic laps trying to figure out how Kuyang’s prototypes had ended up being fired at your new friends. Kuyang may have been unhinged, and more than a little shady, but to commit such violence?

But there must have been a reason for him making the things he did in that lab…

The memory of his face the last time you saw him assaulted you then; the way his normally pleasant demeanour left no trace on his fearsome expression when he had found Bolt inside his lab.

Guilt sat heavily inside you as you gazed down at V.

“Taetae?”

Jimin’s voice was quiet, nervous, but still sweet. Despite the low volume, as the only sound in the room it caught everyone’s attention.

A laugh bubbled out of Jimin as the younger boy stirred with a low groan.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Jimin cooed, “you’re okay, we’re home, I’m here.”

Gently, him and Jin helped the boy to sit, and though he seemed tired, the flush had faded from his cheeks. He was no longer sweating and his breathing was even, but his hair was left sticking in places to his forehead.

Jimin took his hands.

“Can you feel your powers, baby? Are-are they there?”

Slowly, V nodded. Turning a hand over, he summoned a single flame, livid purple, to dance on his palm.

“Okay, okay,” Jin closed his fist, “don’t tire yourself out.”

But you could tell he was as relieved as the others that V could still control his powers. Even if you had only just learned what they were, you now understood Jungkook’s outburst when you had come across V at night before. If not controlled, fire was certainly a lethal force to have at your fingertips.

They left, disappearing to get V settled and cleaned up. Even though having powers gave you higher tolerance to injuries, it was still unwise to leave them untreated.

Casting your eyes across the rest of the room, you saw Jungkook duck away from your gaze.

You let him.

The remnants of adrenaline in your body were fizzling out and you understood the temptation to collapse into a seat.

However, as Yoongi moved across to the stove, you joined him without a word needing to be exchanged. The cold beginnings of Jin’s meal from earlier were sitting in pans and chopping boards, and you simply picked up where he left off.

The two of you cooked with minimal movement and noise, not disrupting the stillness of the kitchen as everyone soaked in what had just happened. At some point Namjoon had disappeared.

Though only four of you remained, you ate nonetheless and boxed the rest up. No one said much, and you didn’t try to change that. In fact, you hardly looked up from your plate, preferring to leave the others to their thoughts. They didn’t need you intruding right now.

Of course, that did nothing to stop the onslaught of questions filling your mind.

You still didn’t really know what the boys got up to on their mysterious excursions, and V coming home so badly injured – by one of your old boss’ experiments, no less – only made you more lost. And intrigued.

Still, you held your tongue.

It was only when you collected everyone’s plates that you caught Jungkook’s eyes boring into the side of your head. Looking up at last, you found him staring at you with a confused frown etched across his brow. He held your gaze though, the ever present intensity of his own making you shrink away towards the basin to distract yourself with washing up.

Just as you thought you would have to endure a silent room without the distraction of food to alleviate the tension, Namjoon returned.

At first, only seeing a shadowy figure in the hall, you thought perhaps V had come back, or at least Jin or Jimin to give an update. Perhaps that was entirely too optimistic. Nonetheless, even the stressed-looking Namjoon was a welcome distraction.

You had begun to scoop some more food into a bowl for him when he spoke. He hadn’t come any further into the room, still hovering in the shadows of the hallway.

“I’m sure you have questions.”

Pausing in your movements, you lifted your head. The others all turned their heads to you as well, leaving you like an animal stuck in headlights.

“Uh-” you stuttered once you eventually caught up with yourself, “I mean, I guess…”

Glancing around you, you found Yoongi and Hope looked a little nervous, some doubt in their faces. Jungkook, on the other hand, was smirking.

Not knowing what to make of that, you decided not to keep Namjoon waiting. He seemed fairly expectant, his not entering the room making it clear that you should follow, so you picked up some chopsticks and brought the food along with you.

Namjoon may have seemed a little surprised when you handed him his dinner, but he took it anyway. Once you were in his office, he started eating without complaint.

“Am I right to presume,” he began between mouthfuls, though he was preparing the next already, “that you knew about the weapon used on V because of your work for Kuyang?”

You quickly confirmed, but you could no longer hold back further questions.

“Yes, but how did it end up- I mean, why was it used? Did Kuyang-?”

Shaking his head, Namjoon cut you off with a wave of his chopsticks. He swallowed and continued perfectly calmly.

“It wasn’t Kuyang that used it.”

Already, your shoulders slumped in relief. But still-

“Then how…?”

Sighing, Namjoon set his cutlery down and sat back.

“Kuyang is one of our… associates,” he began to explain. “After the attack, he escaped, as you know, and went into hiding. Only, we found his lab totally empty soon after.”

At this he sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he always seemed to do without noticing. You could empathise with his stress; the news had you shuffling closer to the edge of your seat. The stuff Kuyang worked with was dangerous, it shouldn’t just… go missing.

“We weren’t sure what to think at first, and we investigated for a while. Other, similar cases have cropped up too, others among our allies being raided. It became too difficult to deny what we feared… Bolt was the only connection.”

Without noticing, your mouth was gaping open, eyes widening. You blinked as Namjoon’s words sunk in. But surely you were misunderstanding? It couldn’t be…

Slowly, you were able to form words.

“Bolt fired at V? At all of you?”

Namjoon nodded.

Shutting your mouth, you swallowed. Your mind may have been whirling at a hundred miles an hour, but nothing made it as far as to form a sentence. Fragments flitted past, telling a story you were afraid to believe.

Bolt was the city’s superhero… a hero… everyone knew that.

He protected the city from harm.

Yet he had shot you… and now V…

The silence stretched out, Namjoon pausing in his meal as he watched you. When you eventually spoke, your voice was small.

“You were fighting… against Bolt?”

A wry chuckle left his lips. Cocking his head, he clasped his hands.

“Villains, one might say. Many do.”

You simply blinked at him. Meanwhile, Namjoon stared evenly at you, gauging your reaction.

“What else has Bolt done?” you ventured.

Namjoon’s eyebrows raised.

“What do you mean?”

Stammering slightly, you tried to explain.

“Well, I already know Bolt isn’t exactly as… innocent, as most people think. He- I mean, at Kuyang’s- when Bolt was there, he had no reason to shoot me? But I hadn’t really thought about… why he was at Kuyang’s lab. What’s going on?”

As you spoke, a faint smile quirked Namjoon’s mouth. As you trailed off, he nodded. It seemed he was finally willing to indulge you.

“It’s true that Kuyang had set his latest experiment on Bolt already. To the media, it would simply seem that Bolt was retaliating, or eradicating the threat they perceive people like Kuyang to be. But today confirmed what we feared. Bolt is collecting.”

“He’s not destroying those weapons?”

Before Namjoon’s confirming shake of the head, you already knew the answer.

Though many of your questions had now been answered, it felt like you had opened up a whole new realm of possibilities that you couldn’t wrap your head around. But Namjoon didn’t allow you time to spiral into further confusion.

“I had hoped this would have to come later,” he spoke carefully, chewing on his cheek as he sat back once more. “we’ve taken in a few people before, helped them control their powers and then proceed to leave this life behind…

“You clearly know that this world isn’t as black and white as the city media wants us to think. But you should also know we aren’t many people’s idea of heroes. We fight against this society. We use violence, we support developers like Kuyang, who are…”

A wave of his hand was all that was needed. You both knew the kind of person it took to create the things Kuyang spent his time working on.

“People don’t agree with us,” he continued seriously, “which is why I’m offering you the chance to leave. As I said, we normally wait until someone has full control of their powers. Out there, the world isn’t exactly… kind to people like us. Bolt, Monsoon, heroes from tv – they’re the exceptions. People don’t like those who are different. They see our powers as a threat, and they do twisted things to gain power over people they fear. If you choose to go, we want you to at least be safe.”

Breathing deeply, you sat reeling.

Everything that had been presented to you should have flipped this whole thing on its head. Your new friends were by no means superheroes, as you previously thought. There was a reason you never saw their names in glowing lights on tv like Bolt.

But really… did it change anything?

Breaking through the silence, the click of the door handle. Since the new arrival hadn’t even knocked, you were certain who it was before they even entered your line of sight.

“Hey,” Jin spoke. Then he paused, looking between the two of you in the sombre silence. Cautiously raising a brow, he turned towards Namjoon. “You told her?”

Namjoon nodded.

“How’s V?” Namjoon then asked nearly straight away. That was a relief; you were wondering the same thing yourself.

Wiping his brow, Jin perched himself against the desk. Though his sigh was tired, he nodded.

“He’ll be fine. He’s already annoying poor Jiminie again, so that should tell you enough.” After a brief hesitation, he continued, eyes shifting to you. “That was a close one though… if Y/N hadn’t been there…”

With the room’s attention on you once again, you gulped. But somehow, what you said next didn’t take you much thought.

“I want to stay.”

Namjoon kept his infuriating poker face on as he appraised you, but Jin cracked a smile.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he grinned, clapping you on the shoulder. Turning to Namjoon, he cried a smug “I told you!”

Encouraged, you nodded with more certainty.

“I agree with you guys – Bolt goes unquestioned, he’s practically worshipped. But whatever he’s doing, I want to help stop him. And he did try to kill me after all – you guys are the ones who've helped me. I trust you.”

“Good,” Namjoon spoke, digging back in to his food, “I wanted to offer you a position in the team, if you said yes. With Bolt on the move like this, we need all the power we can get-”

As a smile was just blooming on your face, it was halted by his next words.

“But. You aren’t ready just yet. I want you out there with us, so I’m willing to send you out sooner than I have with others before. These are unusual times, and you have to understand this will be more dangerous than I normally send rookies to. There’s work to do, with your powers, but also…

“As much as I appreciate your trust in us, I know it doesn’t extend fully. I need my team to be able to trust each other. Every single one.”

Fixing you with a hard stare to accompany his last words, he was effective in making you shrink in your seat. You knew exactly who he was talking about.

And that person was waiting for you right outside.

On leaving the office, you found Jungkook leaning up against the wall. Jin and Namjoon had hung back, leaving you alone as you emerged, and you instantly rolled your eyes. Determined not to be deterred, you kept walking down the corridor, trying to fix your eyes ahead – firmly away from the infuriating man that watched your approach.

“Scared yet?” his smirk bled through his words. You were almost upon him at this point, and he pushed away from the wall, blocking the way with his black-clad body.

Eyes flicking up to him, unimpressed, you tapped your foot.

“Why would I be scared?”

One corner of his mouth curved up, looking you in the eye as he leaned a little closer.

“We aren’t heroes, honey.”

“Thanks for spelling that out, Jungkook,” you drawled, making to step past him.

His laughter followed you while you started walking away.

“Need help packing?” he called.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jin’s stern voice joined him, “no need. She’s not going anywhere.”

Jungkook’s silence spoke volumes.

Glancing back as you reached the end of the corridor, you were met with the livid expression that seemed so familiar. Jungkook’s eyes bulged with shock. You were sure that Jin’s hand on his shoulder was all that was holding him back.

Making the most of his eyes on you, you flashed a serene smile and walked away.

But though an (admittedly large) part of you took satisfaction in Jungkook’s shock and rage, you knew you would be expected to work with him. Properly work with him, not the frosty silence he currently counted as work.

With the impossibility of this steadily creeping over you, you climbed the stairs heavily.

As you returned to the wary stares of your friends and dispelled their trepidation, assuring them you were staying and trying to settle down to a relatively normal evening, it remained in the back of your mind.

But you could deal with Jungkook tomorrow. For now, you let yourself be reminded of the reasons you wanted to stay here with them.

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