#enjoy some quickly written and unedited angst!

[spiderlandry]

Secrets Kept — Ethan Landry

in which you have a secret, and it’s not what ethan thinks.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x Spider-Woman!Reader (she/her pronouns used)

Warnings: minor gunshot wound, kind of escalates quickly?, mention of reader having no family (other than aunt may), slight angst, fluff, no ghostface (previous movies can still be canon i think), somewhat dialogue-heavy, mentions of Across the Spider-Verse events

Word Count: ~9k

Author’s Note: hey everyone, i do wanna apologize for promising to come back and then just. not. so im sorry for that! i have had some health/life troubles recently and long story short i won’t be releasing anymore fics after this. (i am not dying, dont worry, my energy just isnt the same). i also realized i just do not feel as passionate about writing as i used to. thank you for sticking with me, and i will keep all my fics up. for unfinished series i’ve written, anyone is free to write continuations if you wish. thank u so much again for making me feel so welcome here!!! feel free to talk to me in my inbox as i’ll be checking in periodically. and if there’s any interest, i’m willing to post unedited wips.

i guess i've come full circle because this fic was the reason i created this blog. it was unfinished so i never did post it, but i finally got some energy to do it! so enjoy (hopefully)

-

New York had been your home for a long time. All your life, actually. But sometimes, the rowdy, noisy city was suffocating.

However, swinging through the city, air resisting against your skin as you picked up speed—lifted the weight off your shoulders.

You changed in a secluded alley on the outskirts of the busyness in the big apple, not risking any neighbours seeing you go into the window of your apartment. The subway was crowded as it is all hours of the day, though you didn’t mind too much.

Closing the door behind you, you dropped your bag on the couch and looked for your roommate. “Quinn?” Your voice travelled throughout the place, bringing your roommate to her feet and outside her room.

“Hey, d’you just get back?” She smiled, leaning against the end of the hallway. “How was patrol?”

You sighed, opening the zipper of your backpack to pull out the bagel you got for her. “Yeah, it was alright. Nothing exciting.” you threw it to her, and she almost dropped it. “Got you a bagel. Thanks for covering for me.”

She scoffed in mock offence, “What did I say about throwing things? I don’t have your spider sensor, or whatever. But this is appreciated.” She took a bite, and you laughed at her remark about the spider-sense.

“Noted, sorry again.” You returned her grin. You knew she loved being in on the secret. She took joy in knowing the real identity of the masked vigilante, often covering for you around your friends when you had to leave very suddenly during movie nights and hangouts. But above all, she was a concerned friend. Always. Patched you up when you came home late at night, warned you when you were about to make a bad decision, told you to be careful before you left.

You often told yourself not to get too close. Making connections as a vigilante wasn’t ideal. Anybody who knew your identity was in danger at all times, and it didn’t help that you had a huge crush on her brother. You never uttered a word to her, but you could sense her observing you when you hung out with the friend group—not in a spidey-sense way, though, you could just feel it, even without the supernatural sense.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” You asked, flopping down on the couch and turning on the tv, avoiding the news channels.

“Ethan missed you. It was kinda gross, actually. Wouldn’t stop asking where you were.” She grabbed a drink from the kitchen, disappearing from view.

You furrowed your brows, “You know I never believe you whenever you say anything about Ethan, right? Especially concerning me.”

“Not my problem, spidey. I never lie.”

“I could give you ten examples,” you chuckled.

“I never lie to you. Obviously I lie to everybody else.” She came back from the kitchen with a look.

“Is it because I’m special?”

“Obviously.”

You weren’t the nervous type. Maybe it was after you were bitten by the spider, you never really knew, but one of the main reasons Ethan may not have realized you have any semblance of feelings for him was because you acted normal around him like you did everybody else. Your schedules were different, so you rarely hung out with him for school reasons, meaning the only times he spent time with you was during group hangouts.

Including now. At his and Chad’s tiny off campus apartment.

He watched you play chess with Anika, Chad watching from the sidelines during a blitz game. Speed chess. He knew how to play chess. Maybe he should play with you, a thought grazed his mind.

As if his sister could read him, she appeared beside him and nudged him closer to the scene. “You should play.”

He looked at her with shock, “No, I’ll lose. I don’t wanna embarrass myself.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Since when has that stopped you? You never back down from a chess match, remember?” He did remember, years ago when his father taught him after Richie left for college. “It’s because you like her, isn’t it?”

He huffed. To try and prove her wrong, he went over to the coffee table and watched as you lost to Anika—maybe he has a chance.

It was his turn, now. He replaced Anika on the seat facing you, rearranging the chess pieces. “Pretty boy wants to play!” Chad exclaimed.

“Chad.” Ethan said in an almost warning tone. “What did I say about the nickname?”

You reset the chess clock. He looked at you—you were smirking—which was a mistake, because he didn’t realize you started his clock.

“Shit,” he moved a piece, fumbling. You grinned at him, and he realized he’ll do anything to see it again.

You didn’t lose your confidence, moving chess pieces to counteract his own moves.

During the middle game was when it dawned on him he was fucked.

It became clear to him you likely knew how to psych him out—just by smiling at him.

Little did he know, you smiled at him because his thinking face was adorable. But on his side, you were smiling every time he glanced at you. He had no other choice but to believe you were doing it to make him blunder, because he couldn’t make you usually smile like that, could he?

Quinn watched her brother fumble around you. Her plan worked. At least for tonight.

You ended up winning the game with ten seconds left on your clock and three on his.

You high-fived Chad, much to Ethan’s dismay, but you offered a handshake to his direction which he gladly accepted to feel your warm palm in his. Worth it.

He was mustering up to ask for a rematch when your phone buzzed on the counter, which Quinn reached to get before anyone could in case it was something spider related. And thank god she did, because it was. She gave you a nod, reading the notification about something happening downtown. You cringed internally, knowing the burden of covering for you would fall on your friend’s shoulders again. She packed your things and handed you the backpack, whispering ‘be safe’ as you take it from her, so nobody else would hear.

With a closing of the door behind you, a conversation in the room began, thanks to a suspecting Mindy.

“Why does she leave sometimes?” The woman looked to the strawberry blonde for an answer, suspecting that she knew more than she let on. “She never tells us.” They all settled on the couch as Chad flicked through streaming services for a movie and Ethan cleaned up the chessboard. He didn’t wanna seem to interested, but he was definitely actively listening for Quinn’s answer.

“Her aunt calls her sometimes to run some errands,” Quinn prayed they wouldn’t pry. She saw this coming because you’d been dealing with more calls recently and patrolling more often. There really was no other excuse for the spontaneous leaving. It was easier to cover if you were already not there—you’d be studying, grocery shopping, napping, or literally anything else.

“Aunt May?” Ethan piped up. You mentioned her once, saying you needed to get eggs for her.

“Yeah, Aunt May.”

“She never talks about her family.” Said Anika.

Quinn didn’t want to say anything else. “She’s just private, I think.”

“You know more about her than us, though.”

“Because I’m her roommate.”

Mindy’s eyes squint toward her. Tilting her head, she pursed her lips. “I think you’re lying.”

“Why would I be?”

“She’s left before, at like, one AM. Why would her aunt call her at that time?”

Quinn shrugged, feeling a little bit of panic setting in. “Who knows?”

“Is she hiding something?”

“No.” The word was so quick and curt, and that was when she knew she fucked up.

“You’re definitely lying.”

Everyone else, watching the interaction turning from teasing to tense, Sam stepped in. “Guys,” she interrupted. “If Y/N wants to tell us something, she would. I’m sure she has her reasons.”

Mindy had been suspicious for a long time. Not out of malice, she liked to think she had a naturally curious personality. She’d kept an eye on you every time you left, half because she wanted to know, but also because she was worried. Had you not been friends for long enough that you couldn’t tell them why you left or was sometimes missing?

Ethan thought similar.

It got weirder when he saw a glimpse of your name on Quinn’s phone, a call from you that she answered. She went to the kitchen to answer it. Mindy saw it too.

Ethan wasn’t proud of it, but he followed, to stay right behind the threshold of the kitchen and the cold tiled floor, listening to the conversation.

The audio from your end was inaudible, but Quinn’s responses were: “Yeah?” … “How bad is it?” … “No, I’ll be there.” … “Who cares if they get suspicious? You’re more important.”

He heard the call end and rushed back to his seat, to Quinn’s obliviousness. She grabbed her things.

“I’m tired, guys.” She announced to the group, Tara pausing the movie. “I’m gonna go home.”

“Oh,” Sam replied. “Well, be careful. Do you have your pepper spray?”

“Yes, Sam.” Quinn almost rolled her eyes at Sam’s protectiveness, but she knew it was out of real worry.

After his sister left, Ethan began the conversation this time. “I think Mindy’s right.”

Everyone turned to him.

“Quinn was talking to Y/N.”

Tara sat up. “You followed her to eavesdrop?”

Ethan shrugged, feeling scolded.

“Not cool, dude.”

“What did she say?” Sam asked curiously, now hooked. If Ethan mentioned it, it must have been important.

“Like…” A pause, “Q asked ‘how bad is it?’ then said she’ll be there. And then, like, who cares if they get suspicious.”

“They’re definitely hiding something,” Mindy stated. “But why?”

“My sister never hides anything from me. She always overshares, and I always hated it. But now she’s not. It’s probably not…good.”

“Are we sure we should talk about this?” Anika piped up next to Mindy. “Maybe it’s a problem with their apartment—a leak, or something.”

“But…” Chad spoke, “what about the suspicious part? And why would Quinn lie?”

At the same time, at your and Quinn’s apartment, you bled out on a towel placed on the couch from a gash across your stomach. You winced as your friend applied the bandage.

“Didn’t I tell you to be safe? What happened? You had a good streak going there for a while.”

“Quinn, please.”

“Also, not to alarm you, but they’re getting really suspicious. Mindy asked why you leave all the time.”

“Shit, she’s never asked that.” Your head fell against the end of the couch in defeat. “Maybe I should start distancing myself.”

Quinn’s head snapped up. “You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” You looked at her.

“It’s a really bad idea.”

“I’m trying to keep people safe. Keep you safe. Keep everyone else in the group safe.”

“What about Ethan?”

“Including him.”

“No—“ She scoffs, “I mean, you’d…break his heart.”

You had to stop yourself from laughing. “Quinn,”

“I’m serious.” And she actually was. She might have thought her brother was a nerdy asshole. But he was her brother. “And everyone would wonder where you are. You can’t avoid them forever.”

Sitting atop a random apartment building Monday morning, your sight helped you catch a glimpse of Ethan walking amongst a crowd of New Yorkers, bumping into people with a hand on the backpack strap on his shoulder. It had been a week since you talked to Quinn about possibly leaving the group.

After that, you stopped answering messages from them, much to her dismay. She still saw you at the apartment, looking at you with silent eyes hoping you’d realize your mistake and come around again. She knew you would.

Having everybody’s schedules memorized helped you avoid them—but Anika having the same major as you was your downfall. You skipped a class yesterday, and she texted the groupchat asking where you were.

Maybe it was creepy, but keeping an eye on your friends calmed you down. You wanted to be the one to make sure they were safe without having them try to do the same thing—this was why you never wanted to get close.

Unbeknownst to you, the group had a bet going.

Mindy thought you and Quinn were dating. Ethan thought something was up in your family life, maybe Aunt May was sick. Chad thought you were in a secret fight club (secretly worried). Anika was on board with Mindy’s theory. Sam refused to answer, and Tara was also silent.

Quinn came to your room that night. “Everybody’s worried about you.”

You looked at her with begging eyes. “I know, Quinn.” You sighed in defeat. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Either you tell them or not. Your choice. But you can’t avoid it forever. Everyone’s been giving you space, but they’re still thinking you’ll come around.”

You stared at her, them looked away, at anything else.

“One more thing—“ she said before she left, “don’t patrol tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I’m gonna be over at Isaac’s place. If you get hurt, I won’t be there. He thinks I’m cheating on him whenever I bail.”

You would never ask her to give up a part of her life for you, she knew you would agree. But she also knew you would never miss patrol.

“Fine, I won’t.”

She left knowing you would.

You should have listened. God, you should have listened.

Your wound from a few days ago had already healed thanks to your abilities, but another power you had was how many times you got injured in a short amount of time. Especially in the same spot. This time it was a real stab wound on your side, not just a gash a centimetre deep.

You couldn’t let yourself bleed out on the alley to be found dead and your friends to find out your identity through a news announcement that Spider-Woman was dead. You were about to swing back to your apartment—

Shit.

You didn’t have your civilian clothes. The window on the fire escape was locked. Your door was locked. Nobody was home. Idiot!

One choice. You forced your feelings down, hoping this was for the best.

Ethan and Chad’s were the closest.

With your heart pounding in your ears, holding it together and covering your wound, you knocked on the glass.

Chad came out of the hallway to furious sounding knocking on the window, thinking maybe a madman managed to climb up the fire escape and was trying to break in.

He certainly wasn’t expecting the masked vigilante of New York City to be the one on the other side of the glass. And she looked to be bleeding.

You were thankful it was Chad who answered and not Ethan. He coincidentally had Econ tonight, so that was actually a plus.

Chad opened the window. “Holy shit!”

“Look—“ You were breathing rapidly, unable to keep it together. “I’m sorry about this—“ You tried to change your voice hoping your friend wouldn’t recognize it.

“I’m gonna carry you now, okay?” He put an arm behind your back and another under your knees, trying to avoid touching the wound. “What the fuck?” You heard him whisper as he set you down on the couch.

He rushed to the bathroom for the med kit. “You’re lucky I have this,” He set it down on the floor, rummaging through it. “I play college football, I mainly have it for sprains. I never used the suture kit, but hey, first time for everything, right?” He rambled. Just as Chad does when he was nervous, also evident in the tremble of his voice.

“I heal pretty quickly, I just need stitches to stop it from bleeding.”

“Thank God. I don’t know how to operate on organs. What if you have internal bleeding?”

“Won’t matter. I’ll heal. I’d never let you touch my organs.” You joked.

“Glad to know Spider-Woman’s funny.”

You were careful not to call him by name on instinct. “What should I call you?”

“Your saviour.” He got the tools ready, “Kidding. I’m Chad.”

“‘Kay, Chad. Need me to walk you through it?”

“Yes—yes, that would be good, actually. You have medical experience?”

“If you call getting injured experience, yes.”

“This is gonna be a long night.”

Tara did not believe her boyfriend.

She was at his apartment, sitting on his bed, and he was pacing and rambling about Spider-Woman coming to this very place last night and asked the vigilante to save her. She stared at him crazy.

“Babe, you have to believe me!” He jumped up excitedly, he couldn’t keep it in.

“You didn’t get any proof?”

“She was bleeding! I stitched her up! Not really a great time to ask for an autograph or a picture.”

She smiled at him endearingly. “I wanna believe you, so, so bad.”

He came closer to her, “Please do.”

“She just happened to come here when Ethan was away?”

“Yes.”

She laughed, falling back on the bed.

“Please, babe!”

With good timing, a knock on the door took them away from the moment.

Tara went to get it, Chad on her tail.

And surprise.

It was Spider-Woman at the door.

You never intended on showing up, but the guilt consumed you and your feet brought you to a bakery and you’d purchased a dozen cupcakes before you knew it. You wanted to leave them at his door, but not trusting his neighbours, you decided to hand them over.

He wasn’t alone. You should have expected Tara. It was afternoon, and Ethan had a class early morning (why he picked it that early, you’ll never get.)

Tara’s eyes widened at the sight, immediately turning back to her boyfriend stopping him in his tracks. “Is this a prank?” She pointed a finger up at him.

Him not knowing who’s at the door, “What? Who’s at the door?” He walked past her and was equally shocked.

You lowered your voice again. “Uh,” you cleared your throat, “thanks for saving me last night.” You handed over the box of cupcakes.

“Are you joking?” Tara went to lift your mask, but you backed away. “Who are you?”

“Not a prank, promise!” You exclaimed. “This is…actually…me. Just wanted to say thanks. If not for him, I would have bled out.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“You’re her.”

At that, you shot a web to the ceiling.

“Shit,”

“I wasn’t lying, babe.” You heard Chad whisper to her. And directed at you, “Glad I could help, spider. Come back anytime!” Tara playfully slapped him on the shoulder as you walked away.

“I’ll keep that in mind!”

You still hadn’t told Quinn about what happened last night. That was because you hadn’t seen her anywhere. She must have slept in at her boyfriend(?)’s place.

As you got home, your phone buzzed.

Bruno Mars Security Team

Chad

everyone !!!!!!!! please come over tonight !!!!!!! i have to tell you all something !!!!!!! im spiderwomans best friend now

Tara

well…

Sam

???

Quinn

Oh god

Ethan

What lol

Then, a personal message notification from Quinn.

Quinn

Wtf happened while I was gone you have to tell me

You

I HAD NO CHOICE

Quinn

Please actually come over to Chad’s. We all miss you even tho its only a few days like we’re all worried

You

i will

Chad had never been happier to see you. “You’re here! And you’re early!” He opened his arms for a hug, which you took. “I missed you!” You’d always been a little sister to him, despite being a few months apart, it mattered to him.

“Sorry I’ve been MIA,” You sighed, pulling away. “Just—dealing with stuff,” you cleared your throat.

Just then, Tara appeared and ran into your arms. You squeezed her tight, knowing she gave the best kinds of hugs. Her arms wrapped around your neck, head resting against your shoulder, fitting like a puzzle piece. “Talk to us anytime, okay?”

You nodded, ending the hug and closing the door behind you.

“What’s this about Spider-Woman?” You inquired, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“I have to wait until everyone gets here, you guys are gonna freak! And Tara is here to back me up.”

“Is that all I’m here for?” Tara teased.

“No, honey, you know it’s also because we’re using your Netflix login.”

You laughed at their antics as she flicked him on the forehead lightly.

Ethan happened to catch you right at that moment as he came out of the bathroom.

He was silent, but shot you a smile nonetheless, which you mirrored. He really did not know what to say. A feeling bubbled up inside him and he knew he wanted to talk to you alone.

You took your place at the very end of the couch, checking something on your phone as you waited for the others to get here. Unbeknownst to you, though, Ethan was looking at you trying to decide whether it was the right time to talk. Chad and Tara were whispering to themselves, betting on if he would actually say anything.

After a few seconds, your senses told you somebody was staring. Not in a dangerous way, or even remotely alarming, but you could still feel it. So you turned your head upward and saw the curly haired boy a standing awkwardly a few feet from you.

“What’re you doing?” You smirked, though not really in a smug way. It was more amusement than anything.

“Uh—nothing, I just—“ He wandered closer, sitting a few centimetres away from you. “I—we, the group, want you to know that we’re always here if you need anything. You can talk to us, alright? You don’t—just don’t deal with it alone.” He shrugged, “That’s it.”

Your face softened at his confession. Only if you could tell them without compromising their safety. “Thanks. I’ll…keep you posted.”

Ethan didn’t know what to do now that the conversation was seemingly over.

He was about to stand up until the door swung open, Quinn coming in along with Mindy and Anika who were carrying a few boxes of pizza.

“We’re here! And we brought food!” Mindy’s voice echoed throughout the apartment.

You were going to greet them but Anika beat you to it, seeing you on the couch and running over to hug you.

Mindy did the same, relieved to see you okay.

Quinn had a knowing smile on her face.

After the room settled down, Chad began to finally tell the story.

Needless to say, nobody believed him.

By the end of the night, long past midnight, you were getting ready to leave when Ethan asked you something.

“Are you going with Quinn?”

Mindy and Anika were waiting at the door, they both got a ride from your roommate since Mindy’s car broke down a few days ago.

“No, uhm—I think I’m gonna walk home. It’s only a few blocks.”

Quinn, upon hearing you, chimed in. “Really? You sure you don’t want to?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You shared a look with her that only the two of you knew. You turned to Ethan, “Why?”

“Can I walk you?”

You were surprised, to say the least. “Really?”

“So you’re safe.”

Preparing to protest, you felt Quinn’s hand on your arm. “Let him.”

So you did.

The walk home was brisk. The streets were empty, the street lamps illuminating your synchronized steps with Ethan.

With him, silence was never awkward. It was just…quiet.

It was no secret that you were perceptive, especially to your friends. Quinn knew why, but the others thought it was just you, not something caused by the spider bite. Your senses were especially heightened around Ethan.

You would never mention it, but you knew his heartbeat sped up when he got close to you. You only caught it a few times on accident trying to listen for something else, but you’d never actually do it on purpose.

Lately it seemed he was spending more time with you since the night you came back (which was three weeks ago at this point). One, he would message you on Discord asking if you wanted to do a study call—you never failed to say yes (making Ethan giddy). Two, he began to ask you things about your life during those calls when you would both take a break from studying. Like he wanted to know more about you.

Three, you began to spend time together outside the group.

Quinn was excited for you the first time you told her that you were going to see Ethan and only him. Of course, you told her not to read into it, but when has she ever listened?

Things were going fairly well. Especially with New York as a whole, nothing too major had happened (no supervillains, thank god), only a few robberies and cats stuck in a tree.

You were sitting atop a building when a tingling sensation in the back of your neck alerted you to something. Then, as you honed your hearing, you heard glass breaking a block away.

Swinging never got old.

As you reached your destination, a small bodega being robbed, you spotted him. Ethan.

Your heart began to pound in your ears, watching from the outside as the robber trained the gun on his hostages inside the bodega, one of them being Ethan.

It was like muscle memory. Go in, threaten the robber, and if it escalated, you fought him.

“I’m going to get rid of you, Spider-Woman!” The man in the mask hissed at you, his pistol trained right at your heart. This part didn’t scare you anymore, but Ethan being here—did. “If you come any closer…” He stepped away, instead pointing the gun at some old lady, who looked scared shitless. “I’ll shoot her!” He noticed you weren’t fazed at threats against you, so he targeted the next best thing: civilians.

“Easy, there, cowboy. Why don’t you point that gun at me? I thought you wanted to get rid of me.” You tilted your head, gauging the severity of the situation.

In your peripheral vision, Ethan stepped in front of the lady, trying to usher her to the side.

God, he was an idiot—but you’d be lying if you said that didn’t warm your heart.

The robber didn’t notice because he was still staring at you, watching for any sudden movements you’d make.

It happened in three seconds.

One, you shot the web to the gun, trying to pull it back to you.

Two, the gun went off—a slip of his finger caused by your web. Before you saw who it hit, the man came at you.

Three, you took him down, knocking him out.

It was the next second that you decided your life wouldn’t be the same.

You heard a hiss, a gasp from onlookers, and you took away the magazine of the gun before your head snapped up to where the hiss came from.

Ethan.

Red was the first thing you saw. It was on that yellow cardigan he wore when it was chilly—You rushed to his side, seeing the red come from his arm. He was backed up, leaning against the wall.

He was wide-eyed, face scrunched up in pain. “Shit,” He put pressure on his wound. “It hurt less than I thought it would.”

If only he could see how the tears lined your eyes under the mask.

“We need—“ You tried to keep your voice steady— “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“I’m fine,” He hissed again as you pressed harder on his arm. “It’s just a graze.” He saw your concern.

“No—It could’ve—it could’ve hit something vital—“ Despite your knowledge that it likely didn’t, your head was spinning and rational thought weren’t exactly on the table.

The sirens reached your ears before anyone else’s.

You took a deep breath. Your head cleared.

“The ambulance is gonna get here soon, uh—“ You cleared your throat. “Don’t move, okay?” You nodded to him, and left.

Okay, you didn’t actually leave. You stayed on a rooftop across the street, a few buildings over, seeing that he was okay as he got checked out by the paramedics.

That was when you actually left. For good this time.

The timing was almost perfect—the next day, an old friend came to see you.

You weren’t expecting anybody, hanging out in an abandoned building you found in the outskirts of Brooklyn when you were a teenager.

But a black hole opened up right next to you. Maybe not a black hole, but the closest thing to it.

That was when you saw Miguel O’Hara.

Quinn had no idea that, when she woke up that morning, it would be the week she spilled your secret to the friend group.

This is how it went down.

Last evening, she told you to be careful before you left for patrol. You never came back in the morning. She didn’t see any evidence of you being there, like your shoes haphazardly thrown across the floor near the front door, or your backpack on the couch. This had happened once before and she found out you were at your Aunt May’s house—so she just sent you a text and went on with her day.

It was also the day Ethan called her and told her that he was shot. Then he texted the groupchat about what happened and they all (including Quinn) rushed over to his and Chad’s apartment to see in person that he was actually okay. A bit of a freaky situation that Ethan was caught up in that, but everyone calmed down eventually. But when Ethan told the story, Quinn hoped your disappearance had nothing to do with his getting hurt. She also noticed that he was bummed about you not being there.

It was the second day she got worried. No sign of you. Nothing on the news about Spider-Woman, either.

Bruno Mars Security Team GC

Quinn

Anybody heard from Y/N?

Chad

aren’t you her roommate

Quinn

Hasn’t been home since Saturday.

Ethan

She hasnt answered any of my texts

Chad

okay now i’m worried

tara? mindy? anika? sam?

Mindy

nope. anika says no too

Sam

Not me or Tara. I’ll try calling her

She didn’t answer

Ethan

Quinn do u know where she’d go? maybe to a family member?

Quinn

I dont know her aunt mays address

Chad

let’s wait a day to see if she turns up. if not then we’ll get together to brainstorm

You weren’t there the next day, so everyone gathered at yours and Quinn’s apartment to see what could’ve happened to you.

They all stood around the kitchen island.

“Has everybody called her?” Chad said, arms crossed. “Texting her and everything?”

Everyone nodded.

“Quinn,” Tara began. “Have you checked her room?”

She looked down, almost ashamed. “I did, actually. Nothing.”

“Do you think we should…check again? Maybe we’ll find something.”

“I’m good at snooping, if you need.” Anika added.

Quinn’s eyes slightly widened, “No!” Calming down, “I mean—no. She doesn’t like other people going through her stuff. I can because I’m her roommate—not you guys.” At times of stress, this was the best she could come up with.

“Okay…” Mindy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How about an address to Aunt May’s place? Do you think we could find that somewhere?”

The realization dawned upon her—no way of getting to you. “No. But she would’ve told me if she was going there.”

“Look, Quinn.” Mindy sighed, “Can you just—be honest with us?”

The ginger nodded.

“What was the last thing she said to you?”

“I—she was going out to buy something.”

Ethan’s nostrils flared—he knew when his sister was lying. Why was she so adamant to hide your whereabouts, even if it meant you were in danger? He sighed.

“I’ve—“ Everyone’s heads snapped to Ethan at his interruption. “I’ve had enough of it, Quinn. What the fuck are you two hiding? Seriously.”

Safe to say there was nobody in that kitchen who wasn’t surprised at his sudden outburst. He didn’t care, though.

“You always fucking lie, Quinn. I can tell. Why don’t you think I can tell? She goes missing, and you’re still keeping a secret!”

Chad put a hand on his shoulder, “Dude.”

The boy took a deep breath, reminding himself where he was. “Sorry. For shouting, I mean. But you can’t just—ask us to look for her when we all know damn well that you know something we don’t.”

At that moment, she had two choices. She thought for a long moment before she couldn’t find a rational explanation as to why she shouldn’t tell them that you’re Spider-Woman—you could be dead by now.

She walked away, hearing Mindy say “Are you fucking serious?” right behind her.

They didn’t have to wait for long, because Quinn came back from your room with something in her hand. They examined the object as she threw it onto the counter.

It was a mask—Spider-Woman’s mask.

“Holy shit,” Sam was the first to say.

“Wanna know the secret?” Quinn crossed her arms. “There’s your fucking secret.” She directed it at Ethan, whose mouth was slightly open.

She took a deep breath, a similar trait to her brothers to calm herself down. “The night she left, she told me she was going on patrol. When she didn’t come back the next morning I thought she was fine. Now it’s the third day, nothing from her. Look—I might’ve—like, fucked up. I don’t know.”

“How?” Asked Mindy.

“I should’ve told you sooner.”

It was clear to them that Quinn must have had this weight on her shoulders for so long.

“I have…so many questions.” Said Chad. “So when…Spider-Woman came to my apartment, that was Y/N?” He grabbed the mask, analyzing it with his hands.

“Why do you think she came to yours? She knows you have that stupid med bag with the unused suture kit.”

“Is that why she always left?”

“Mhm.” She nodded. “I thought—things were getting better. She was getting close to us again, stopped patrolling some nights because of my brother’s stupid discord calls.”

Ethan was breathless. “What?”

“Look—point is: she didn’t want to put anybody in danger. If I didn’t find out by accident, she never would have told me. She just…cares about you guys too much. She thinks if you know she’s Spider-Woman, you’d be in danger.”

When Ethan came face to face with Spider-Woman in the bodega, it was you. That was your concern, practically radiating off of you in waves. He knew you seemed familiar, somehow. But everybody knew Spider-Woman. He knew you differently. You saved his life.

Everybody was taken aback by the news. But Sam, ever the leader, began. “She’s been protecting us this whole time. All of us. It’s time we have to do the same for her.”

“How?”

“We find her. In any way possible, even if it means we have to track down her entire family, go back to her high school friends, anything we can think of, okay?”

There was no doubt in anyone else’s mind that they were all on board with the plan.

“Let’s do it.”

ONE WEEK LATER

It was the first night in a week that Ethan got proper sleep. The exhaustion finally caught up to his body after countless sleepless nights spent poring over clues on how to find you. He’d been making progress on the Oscorp lead when the last thing he remembered was slumping over at his desk.

Which was why it was weird when he opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling. He was laying down in the comfort of his own bed. Maybe he actually went to bed and didn’t realize it. The sunlight peeking through the curtains was probably a sign to get up, get back on the investigation.

That was until he sat up and saw a figure at his desk, standing over some of the files he sorted.

It took him a second to see it was you. Was he dreaming?

“You’re finally up.” He heard the voice come from you, and saw your mouth move, and as he processed your sweet voice and the teasing lilt to it, he almost fell off his bed jumping out to rush over to you.

He almost knocked you over as his (surprisingly) muscular arms wrapped around you in a quick second, you returning the hug with a smile he could feel on his neck. He was almost speechless. Almost.

Slightly pulling away, he got a good look at you, unharmed, grinning at him with the power of a million suns. He kept his arms around your waist, keeping you close as if he was afraid you’d disappear once more. Nonetheless, he mirrored your expression as he felt your breath on his face and your arms looping around his neck, running your hands through his soft curls.

“You’re…here. You’re actually here.”

Your soft hand came to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat along with hearing it.

“I’m sorry I left.”

The boy shook his head, “What matters is you came back. You always did.”

“I always will, Ethan.”

YESTERDAY

It was early morning and the feeling of defeat was strong in the room. Everyone was there at your and Quinn’s apartment all with one goal: to find you. They’d started this search almost a week ago with a determination in their eyes akin to a fight for survival, mainly because it kind of was. But as the days went on and the meetings at the house got longer to discuss other possibilities surrounding the circumstances of your disappearance, the metre to measure the disappointment was getting higher.

They all sat at the couch, flipping through the news channels, all talking about how Spider-Woman hasn’t been seen in over a week. It was an alarming wake up call for the city, because crime rates had gone up significantly without the friendly neighbourhood spider watching over the residents of the city that never sleeps.

The news anchors all echoed a similar message. Where is Spider-Woman? Many have theorized that this may be the end of an era—

Sam clicked the red button on the remote, the screen turning to black. “We can’t give up.”

“I didn’t wanna have to, but—“ Tara sighed, “We said if we can’t come up with anything, we’d get the police involved.”

Chad slumped right next to her. “What are we supposed to tell them? Hey, our friend’s been missing for a week and we’re just now reporting it. And FYI, she’s the vigilante who does your job for you.”

“Not like that.”

“But we can’t tell them she’s her, right? If they find her, she’d be arrested.”

“If they find her alive, that is.” Mindy added grimly, looking at the ground.

“Dude, come on.” Her brother tapped her arm.

“I’m just saying.”

“Quinn, Ethan.” Tara refocused the conversation, “Your guys’ dad is a cop, right?”

They looked at each other before nodding.

“Can you talk to him? You don’t have to tell him anything just—find out if anything happened lately, okay? Anything new.”

Anika added, “We’re not even on the week mark. It’s tomorrow. How about we focus on our leads today, then meet again tomorrow. If there’s really nothing, we’ll go to the police, okay?”

“That sounds good.” Ethan agreed.

“Alright,” Sam exhaled. “Dismissed.”

Everyone was sleepless that night. There was the obvious tell of the bags under everyone’s eyes growing bigger, not to mention the slouching and the less than ideal attention span they had lately.

Quinn’s eyes were wide open in the dark of room, wondering and hoping you weren’t dead in some back alley somewhere.

A sound in the living room broke her out of a dazed stupor. It wasn’t too loud, but not subtle, either.

On edge, her hand shot to grab the bat right next to her bed, a gift you’d given her for self defense purposes. She was careful not to make any sound, clearly unlike this moron who was breaking into her house on the middle of the night with heavy steps.

The fridge was open, the door hiding the figure of the person behind it.

She was ready to swing—

You. The figure closed the fridge door and it was you in your suit.

Maybe it was the lack of food that caused you not to notice her presence immediately, but you heard the clacks of the wooden bat hitting the floors before you clocked your roommate fully embracing you in a bear hug.

“Quinn!” You chuckled, returning the embrace. “Missed you too.”

She pulled away abruptly after a second, a stern look on her face but a layer of worry in her eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” She grabbed your shoulders and pushed back a little, looking over your entire body, checking for injuries—but you were clean. Not even a scratch. “Shit, you’re okay.”

“I—“

She hugged you again.

That was when you realized why she reacted like this. “How long have I been gone?”

She looked at you like you were crazy. “You’ve been gone a whole week.”

“Shit. I didn’t leave a note, did I?”

The guilt on your face was apparent, but it was nothing compared to the stress everyone had gone through while you were away.

“You didn’t. All of us have been looking for you—“ Something dawned on her. “I…had to tell them.”

You didn’t react the way she expected. She expected you’d be upset—angry, even, but not this. Not you being the one to hug her this time, taking a deep breath.

During the embrace, you spoke, your voice vibrating on her shoulder as your head rested against it.

“It was so stressful, out there. I have so many things to say. But I’m so tired—I wanna explain everything later.” You sighed, “How’s Ethan?”

“He’s okay. I’ll drive you to his place tomorrow, okay?”

Mindy, Chad, Tara, Anika, and Sam all woke up in their respective apartments to a text message in the group chat.

Quinn

Can we all meet at Chad’s place today? In a few minutes. Urgent!!!

After the conversation yesterday, they all expected the worst. Maybe Quinn had gotten information from her cop dad that Spider-Woman was found dead—they were all thiniing it. Ethan, however, having been up until late, was still sound asleep, phone on silent mode.

They met at the front door of the apartment building (of course, except for Chad, who was in his bedroom staring at the text in worry), Sam looking among the group to reassure them. “Guys,” She sighed. “Maybe if’s not bad news.”

Mindy turned to her. “Really?” She sounded exhausted, almost ready to give up.

“If Quinn had really bad news, she would’ve called us. Probably, right?” Tara backed her sister up.

“Let’s just…go in. She’s probably not even here yet.”

Just then, the sound of a car approaching quickly caught their attention—Quinn’s car.

Tara was at the end of the group, giving her the advantage of seeing first who was in the passenger seat of the car, getting out.

“Y/N!” She yelled.

The rest of them turned, almost running to the middle of the street as you closed the car door, leaving Quinn to find parking. You ran to the sidewalk, running into Tara’s arms.

You could feel the warmth radiating from the group as they welcomed you back with open arms, feeling guilty that you must have made them worry for them to react like this. Knowing some of their history with the murders in Woodsboro, it must’ve been terrifying for them to think they could’ve lost another friend.

It wasn’t long until you felt the missing piece, a hole amongst them that resembled a shape in your heart: Ethan.

“Where’s Ethan?” You tried not to show panic, but it was likely obvious due to Anika immediately reassuring you.

“He’s okay! He’s fine—he’s just sleeping.”

You sighed, relief taking over. “He doesn’t usually sleep in this late.”

“He was up late last night, he said he got a good lead on you. He…” She contemplated for a moment, not wanting to worry you. “He took it pretty hard when you dropped off.”

Tara almost slapped her arm. “Yeah,” she looked to you, watching carefully for any signs of panic. “He was worried. Probably more than any of us. But you can wake him up.”

“Do you…Can you tell us what happened? Where were you?” Mindy was reluctant to ask in case it was difficult for you.

But you were happy to tell them—you figured you owed them that much after having them think you were dead for a week. “I’ll tell you inside, come on.”

Pizza and drinks were being passed around, everyone was here, and you chose to sit right beside Ethan. He couldn’t stop looking at you. You could feel it.

As you animatedly told the story of meeting other people who also had spider powers, had similar stories, Ethan then began to wonder what would be next. Would you stay? What if you wanted to go back there, be with people who really, truly understand you?

By the end of the night, the group was preparing for the sleepover. But you could tell something was troubling Ethan. You studied him from the couch while the crew was gathering pillows, and he caught your eye and said, “Wanna go to the rooftop?”

You tilted your head on instinct, confused.

“You know…good air.” He shrugged.

“Sure.”

The walk up was silent. Maybe more than silent, if that were even possible.

As he opened the door to the rooftop, you made eye contact for half a second. And in that half second, Ethan decided he won’t lose you. In that half second, you looked away, then looked up again—and he gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you close enough that you felt his breath on mingling with yours, so close that you thought he was going to kiss you. But he began to speak.

“Can I—”

And you kissed him.

It was a small one, but when you tilted your head to lean in closer and tangled your hands behind his neck—Christ.

You pulled away abruptly and he wondered if he had done something wrong. At the same time he said “Holy shit,” you asked, “Wait, that’s what you were going to ask, right?”

Once his brain recovered, he finally nodded, “Yeah. You beat me to it.”

After a pause, he began again. “Does this mean you won’t leave?”

“Leave? Who said that?”

“Well, I just thought—”

“You’re an idiot, Ethan Landry. Come here.”

Additional Author’s Note: I apologize that Ethan and Reader do not have as many moments in this. Thank you for understanding. Again, if there’s enough interest, here’s a list of fic titles I’d be able to post wips of (keep in mind these are unfinished, you’re allowed to write continuations but my one wish before leaving this site is that my work is not fed into any kind of AI and that includes character ai):

blackout (2k)

dialogue (2k ish)

the dress (900)

rain (1k)

story beats for murder party part 2 (3.2k, jot notes)

reflections (2k)

the bear au (500 ish)

thief (800)

like a fool, im thinking of you (500)

avatar:

hard to love (2k, lo’ak)

sorry for any mistakes i didnt catch during editing !

[wandaspetal]

Late Night Talking

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: Marvel/MCU

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬)/𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬): Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff (past), Carol Danvers x Natasha Romanoff

𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞: Friends to Lovers, College AU

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, flirting teasing, mention of insomnia, anxiety and stress, jealousy, and huge fat warning college, some angst with happy ending

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: If you’re feeling down Wanda wants to make you happier baby

𝐀𝐍: Reader uses she/they pronouns. Loosely based on Late Night Talking by Harry Styles and my insomnia (surprise surprise). This was written at 3 in the morning and is unedited. Enjoy! :)

At first it was passed off as a quirky trait they had by their friends and family members. Now they were starting to acknowledge how much of problem it is for Y/n to deal with. Hopefully Professor Harkness wouldn’t be on her ass about it. The last time they were here the professor showed an immense amount of concern at the lack of livelihood in them due to their insomnia.

She was becoming somewhat of a concerned mother figure towards her while still maintaining her professionalism.

Thankfully she wasn’t at her desk yet and it was still 5 minutes before class started. As Y/n plopped down into their seat they barely spared the person they sat next to a glance. It wasn’t an auditorium styled classroom it was one of the smaller ones. Only 20 people were in this Psychology class and it was the smallest one the professor had (she has joked about it multiple times).

Wanda couldn’t help but stare. The droopiness in their eyes and bags underneath raised so much concern. The Sokovian cleared her throat and debated giving the gift she had for Y/n now or after class. Her utensils and items she uses for class were all perfectly laid out in front of her.

She quickly reached into her bag deciding she could use Professor Harkness as a distraction in case Y/n didn’t like what she gave them. Wanda removed the plastic bag and slid it towards them.

“What- oh good morning Wanda, don’t forget your stuff.” Their voice was laced with tiredness.

Wanda giggled. Even when they were sleep deprived they were cute. “It’s for you baby.” The pet name slipped out causing both their cheeks to burn.

Y/n cleared her throat and sat up in attempt to straighten their posture but still hunched over the desk a bit to grab the bag. They untied it and looked inside to see an assortment of snacks, a water bottle and two different brands of melatonin. Their cheeks flushed for another reason. Y/n had no clue Wanda had been paying this much attention to her.

“Oh Wanda I’m sorry I- do I bother you during class? Because I can move–”

“None of that.” Wanda shook her head immediately cutting her rambling short. “Whenever I’m sleepy during class it helps me to stay awake to eat or drink in between writing…and because it helps me stay awake, I thought it might help you too…I also used to take these melatonin brands when I had issues sleeping during finals from all the stress and they worked pretty well unless you blatantly ignore the tiredness they cause you like I did at the start of taking them…” Wanda scratched the back of her head, she could not read Y/n’s expression. “Point is, I got this stuff for you because I wanted to help.”

Y/n could not fathom why someone she rarely sees outside of class would do something so kind for them. Kate, Yelena or one of their other friends would do this but Wanda and her only interacted because she briefly dated Natasha until the two decided they were better off as friends. And even then Natasha and her never got that close due to the overwhelming crush Y/n had on her in highschool. But that can be reminisced on another time.

Y/n placed her hand on Wanda’s wrist immediately feeling it relax under her touch. “Wanda, thank you, seriously.” The two shared a smile. “You’re sharing them with me throughout class though.” Wanda began to protest. “I wasn’t asking, Maximoff.” Y/n smirked when her cheeks flushed and a shy “okay.” Reached their ears.

The two shared the snacks during class and Y/n carried the melatonin around with them for the rest of the day. After eating dinner with her roommates she laid in bed for two hours until she glanced at her night stand and saw the melatonin mocking her. Melatonin usually doesn’t work, she’ll feel drowsy then immediately begin to doze off then wake up and be awake for the rest of the night.

They sighed and reached for the melatonin, ripping the package open. “5 milligrams per fruit gummy.” Y/n popped in 4 and hoped for the best.

Their phone buzzed on the bed signaling a text message coming in. Y/n grabbed it without looking and unlocked her phone. The time read 1:20 in the morning which was less worse than usual.

Wanda :D | 1:20 AM

You up?

Y/n forgot Wanda had her number after they (her friends, Natasha and Wanda) all went to the arcade together. Seems Wanda didn’t forget though.

Y/n <3 | 1:23 AM

Yup! Just took the melatonin though so let’s see if it works.

Not even 30 seconds went buy before Wanda’s name popped up on her phone, signaling she was getting a call. Y/n answered, propping herself up against the head board with her pillow for support.

“Hi.” Y/n sang.

“Hello.” Wanda’s accent was pronounced as ever. “I…sorry I called you I just- I wanted to talk to you and hear your voice, I also don’t feel like typing any longer.”

“That’s alright, not like I’m asleep.” Y/n joked with a hint of amusement in their voice.

Wanda chuckled deeply. “That’s true, which one did you take?”

“I’m too lazy to grab it and look but it has a clear packaging with the label on front.”

“Purple top?”

“Yeah.” Y/n grinned.

“Oh cool, I figured you would like gummies more.”

“And what made you think that?”

Wanda twirled her hand between her fingers as she sat at her desk inside her room at her brother’s apartment. “I sort of remembered how you said you enjoy fruit flavored things so…yeah.”

Y/n nodded even though Wanda couldn’t see them. “Yeah well you are what you eat.”

Wanda giggled. “Shut up.”

“Oh okay well I’ll just hang up now.” Y/n said with mock offense and their hand on their chest.

“Stop, no teasing.” She chastised playfully.

“Me tease? Like you weren’t calling me nicknames in class earlier.” Y/n’s chuckle was deep and raspy. After not hearing a response they pulled the phone away from their ear. Then put it back as it said the call was still going. “Hello? Wanda.”

Wanda muted herself and screamed into her pillow then calmly moved her hair out of her face as Y/n questioned where she went. She picked the phone back up and unmuted herself.

“Wanda you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay just wanted you to see how empty your life would be if I hung up on you.”

“You are so–”

“Pretty, smart, amazing–”

“And also annoying.”

“That’s rich– you think I’m pretty?”

Y/n responded without hesitation. “What? Of course you are! Natasha only dates pretty girls and you’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen– dating her aside.”

Wanda’s smile faltered at hearing Natasha’s name. Then returned at full force as Y/n reassured her right after making that comment. Nat and Wanda being in the same friend group was a decision Wanda regrets but also loves. Her friends are some of the best people she has ever met. Once Carol and Nat started dating soon after they broke up Wanda avoided speaking to Natasha as much as possible.

“Sorry, did I make things weird by bringing up the ex…I didn’t mean too.” Y/n was now laid down in bed, snuggled under the covers with her phone to her ear.

“No you didn’t, baby.” She cleared her throat. “Are you feeling sleepy?” Wanda asked, physically resisting the urge to write notes on their current state.

Y/n swooned at the nickname for the second time that day. “Yeah.” She sang. “Are you– wait why are you still up?”

Wanda grins. “I stay up late sometimes when I don’t have plans the next day, it’s like a reward for getting through the day or week.”

“And you decided to use your reward time to call me? Such a sweet girl.”

Wanda giggled, shut off her lamp and laid down in bed under the covers. “I try.” She glanced over to see the clock read 2:30 in the morning. “We both have to try going to sleep now though angel, get some rest for me okay?”

Y/n hummed in response, her heart fluttering at the nickname. “Okay…night.”

Wanda grinned knowing the melatonin was kicking in. “Goodnight angel, sleep well.”

They both hung up and for the first time in a while Y/n got a full eight hours of sleep. Wanda sighed happily and held her phone to her chest. It was clear Y/n needed some guidance, someone to take care of them. Wanda just so happened to have her favorite love language be acts of service, what a coincidence.

Two weeks go by and Y/n’s sleeping habits start getting better at the same time Wanda and her become even closer. Unfortunately some habits take a while to stick.

“It’s not working.” Y/n cries out of stress, feeling physical tears start to come to their eyes. “Finals are right around the corner and I need to have this together or–”

They’re sitting outside in the court yard near the student center. This was the first time Wanda and Y/n have hung out outside of class without their friends around. Wanda places her hand on Y/n’s wrist effectively stopping her speech.

“Yes you will, everything’s gonna be fine baby.”

“But Wan I–”

“Baby? Didn’t know you two were that close.”

Y/n groaned and dropped her head on the metal table at the sound of another persons voice. They were already having a break down outside it’s worse that another person had to come and perceive them. Wanda forced herself to relax instead of snapping at her friends for interrupting. She understands how emotional Y/n feels as it’s how she felt during the summer semester not too long ago. Wanda turned her head to greet them as politely as she could to see Carol’s concerned expression but see Natasha’s eyes bouncing between them both with an emotion Wanda did not like; jealousy.

“Yes we are, that close. In fact I adore Y/n with everything in me and I’m trying to comfort them so now is not the best time–”

“Y/n/n what’s going on baby girl?”

Wanda felt like a hypocrite at the sound of her exes voice. Now she was jealous and looking at Y/n to avoid glaring daggers at Natasha. Her shoulders tensed up at the hand she placed on their back. Wanda nearly smiled as Y/n’s whole body tensed up at the contact.

“Ask Yelena.” Came Y/n’s muffled voice.

Natasha smiled playfully. “I will if she could answer her phone.”

Y/n sat up right and took a deep breath, inching closer to Wanda. She wiped her face as she spoke. “She’s in class today doing a double to catch up and make up for her grade so she won’t be out of class until 5:30 and I made sure her and Kate are doing a buddy system so that they won’t be around after sundown by themselves because we are women on a college campus be fucking for real and use the buddy system whenever you can and however you can….Yelena is also the size of five stacked up toasters, black belt or not buddy system always works.”

They all laughed in a various octaves at her rant.

“That is very true, the buddy system is what works best.” Carol agreed gesturing towards them with her can of soda.

“Can I have some?” Y/n asked with a pout.

“Did you have soda today already?” Wanda asked softly, scooting closer to her.

Y/n shook their head. “No, I want a sip.” She pouted.

“Okay, baby.”

“What’s with the nickname seriously,“ Natasha passed off her comment as a joke with a forced chuckle. “are you two dating?”

Wanda opened her mouth to respond but Y/n beat her too after handing Carol back her drink. “And what if we are?” They asked.

Wanda beamed at the protectiveness on their voice. “Yeah what if we are.”

“So what if Wanda is the air that I breathe and the water that I drink.” Y/n added with a shrug, pulling the brunette into her side. “I adore her just as much as she does me, if not more.” The sleep deprivation was definitely talking but so what Wanda didn’t seem to mind. Natasha looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact with them both.

The brunette giggled and kissed her cheek.

“Well congrats.” Carol added with a grin.

“Thank you fellow lesbian.” Y/n beamed.

Carol threw her head back and laughed. “You’re welcome fellow lesbian.”

They all laughed at the exchange.

The day left and night began, as the clock hit 8 Y/n took their shower and did everything they needed to be done before bed. By the time they took their melatonin it was 11 at night.

They laid down in bed with all the lights off and the quiet thrum of voices coming from the living room as Kate and Yelena worked on a project for a class they had together. Y/n’s phone began to buzz on the night stand. Knowing the only person’s notifications she had on at this time of night she answered the phone without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey.” Y/n said.

“Hi.” Wanda sung.

“How’s my pretty girl doing?”

Wanda’s cheeks burned as she left her bathroom and moved to lie down in bed. She was stunned into silence and Y/n knew it. They began to laugh.

“Sorry, too much?”

“No, not at all just a shock that’s all.”

A few minutes of silence passed as Wanda got settled down into bed with the lights in her room off and her brother out for the night.

“About that conversation earlier…”

“My breakdown or Natasha’s jealousy?”

Wanda rolled her eyes so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if Y/n heard it through the phone. “Oh god don’t get me started, that was so annoying! And I hated when she started touching you like you two are close and that she speaks to you outside of you and Yelena practically being sisters like don’t touch her!” Wanda huffed.

Y/n giggled so loud she knows her bestfriends heard it. “I didn’t realize she got you so riled up my love.”

“Tell me about it.” Wanda sighed then bit her lip at the sound of their laughter. “But no, before they walked up I wanted to tell you that I understand how you feel and I’m here for you, you’re going to get through this.”

Y/n wished the Sokovian stood in front of her so that she could give her a hug. “Thank you sweetheart.”

“Of course angel.”

“You wanna stay on the phone with me tonight? I like the sound of your voice.”

“Well you have to I am your girlfriend now.”

Y/n chuckled. “Yeah…” Silence passed between as they both thought over that part of the conversation. “I would actually like for you to be my girlfriend in the future Wanda…I feel like you want the same but I could be wrong–”

“You’re not. I like you so much. Our nightly talks are something I’ve been looking forward to every day since they’ve started….can I take you on a date?”

“Absolutely.”

[heartofwritiing]

and you just can’t say goodbye.

paring: (zombur) William Godwinson x fem!reader

summary: Wil gets bitten, and angst ensues.

authors note: HUGE thanks to @ax-y10 for the help because originally this fic was gonna end a lot more agnsty but then they gave me an idea that was more on the happy side! I've never written a zombie apocalypse setting before so please excuse anything I get wrong. I've only watched other people play The Last of Us and I've briefly seen one episode of The Walking Dead so you can see how this will probably go. lol. The Sorry Boys zombie video is brain-rotting in my head rn I've watched it about four times now. yes. I love Zombur, so here's a drive-by of me throwing this fic at you and then skirting off with smoke from my tires. enjoy the brainrot :p (I'm so sorry this took me so long to get out, I've been procrastinating finishing it because I'm having some self-doubt at the minute but I hope you guys like this anyway even though it's a mess lol)

warnings: zombie apocalypse au, angst, death, violence, swearing, lots of kissing, characters use guns, the writer doesn't know anything about how guns work lmao, sort of happy end? super unedited!

"shit! I'm out of ammo!"

You pulled the trigger on the handgun once more, but nothing. It was luck that you had even found one. Even so early on in an apocalypse. A month had gone by since the first day of the outbreak. Though it was likely that you should've died on the first day, you don't know why you've survived this long. you should be dead.

At first, you thought staying in your apartment was the best chance you had of surviving. Big mistake. That strategy turned south when your front door was barged in after four days of no disturbance from any outsiders. Your boyfriend Wil had grabbed everything you could carry, and you hadn't stopped moving ever since.

Now, you and Wil found yourselves trapped in an alley with no escape. A pack of infected had cornered you, slowly closing in while making menacing noises. Wil bravely stood between you and the horde, fighting them off to protect you.

"Climb up the fire escape!" he shouted back at you.

You looked around until you spotted a ladder conveniently placed on the side of the building within reach. Infected were dropping like flies as Wil's shots echoed through the air. The ladder shook as you climbed, heart pounding in your ears. You glimpsed down to check and see if Wil was following, to find he was surrounded on all sides by infected. Your heart dropped when you saw one of their mouths was too close to his wrist. By the time you called out his name, it was already too late.

'Fuck!' Wil screamed as the infected bit through his skin and charred his flesh. Blood gushed down his arm and around the infected's mouth. You cry his name as he reeled back his fist and punched the infected repeatedly until it staggered off of him, but it was too late. Your eyes were fixed on him as he quickly climbed up the ladder, gasping for breath as he did so. He seemed in immense pain as he pulled his body up the ladder, slightly struggling.

Upon reaching the roof, you found a roof access leading to a floor with multiple doors, revealing it to be an apartment complex. Wil was already feeling the effects of the infection. His skin was sticky with sweat, the bitter taste left in his mouth tasting the blood rising in his throat, and the sudden vertigo he got just by rushing down the stairs was enough to make him nauseous.

You came to the floor with all the apartment units and quickly kicked in the door of the closest one. It took a few attempts to kick the door, and then bam! The sound of splitting wood and the door bouncing off the wall made a delirious Wil jump.

You entered the small room, helping Wil through the doorway, and setting him down gently before closing the door. You searched around for something to barricade the door with. Just in case of any infected find you. The only thing that looked heavy enough was the dresser tucked into the corner. Using all your muscles, you pushed the object across the room with the bottom of the dresser scraping against the wood, grimacing at the loud noise.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you knew you were safe for now. You dusted your hands off and turned back to Wil who was slumped against the wall on the floor, clutching his bitten arm. Wincing and squirming from the heat burning through his skin spreading throughout his veins.

The room was dim, and you noticed the sweat beading down his forehead. You quickly took your backpack off your shoulders and strode over to him. Taking out the first-aid kit you had for emergencies, you pulled out the tiny bottle of anti-septic cleaning solution and the roll of bandages.

You gazed down at his wrist, which was curled against his chest, shrouding you from looking at it. The ring of teeth marks oozing out the color of maroon as black vines protruded around the area, extending over his skin. His head lulled to the side as he let out a moan of pain.

"No, baby, keep your eyes open," you tried to lure him back to consciousness. Take his hand and position it palm up in your lap. He whines like a wounded animal in response.

Unscrewing the cap, you quickly prep the cotton pads. Then you quickly realize you should've put on gloves beforehand. Muttering curses under your breath you shake your head at the thought, There was no time.

"What are you doing?" Wil's voice slurs. He sounds groggy, like something is trying to creep up his throat to escape, not him. It scares you. You refuse to look at him.

"I have to clean the wound before it gets infected," you say nonchalantly.

With the little strength he has left, Will reaches out his unbitten hand to catch yours. You stop your movements in disbelief of his actions, tears brimming in your eyes as you try to save his life, but he stops you again. You both know what's inevitable, you just can't accept it.

"Wil-" you try to pull out of his grasp. You reach out to touch his wrist again this time, he is the one who pulls away.

"Look at me," he pleads. You can't bring yourself to shift your eyes to his, knowing this was inevitable. You had to try. He had to let you try.

"just stop."

Wil tries to grab the items from your hands, but you move too quickly for his shrinking reflexes to keep up. Moving beginning to be too strenuous.

"I can't- Wil-" You struggle to fight against him, too scared to hurt him. Though he's already dying.

"Stop, honey..." he quivers.

"Just let me save you!" you cry. It echoes through the room. The air is tense, and you finally meet his eyes. His skin is sickly pale, eyes bright with red veins and glossy. Purple hues outline under his soft doe eyes as they peer into yours. He fists the hem of your shirt, inviting you closer. Your breaths mix together as he presses his forehead to yours.

The words hang between you, but you bite your tongue. You want to tell him how much you want him to stay and not give up. Deep down, you already know it's not enough.

"It's too late for me darling, leave me here.”

“I'm not leaving you,” you say sternly, shaking your head.

You were determined to stay with him, no matter how difficult things got, you were unwilling to abandon him.

“Please, I don’t want you to see me turn into a monster.” his voice wavered. Your heart sank. No matter what, he would always be your Wil. Sweet, caring, and lovable Wil. Whom you adored with every fiber of your being.

You reach up to cup his face with your hands, but they feel cool against your clammy skin. His cheekbones are slowly becoming more prominent. You stare into his eyes, but the urge to tell him to be quiet becomes harder as anger festers in your chest. However, it's not anger towards him, but rather frustration towards the universe.

Instead, you snuggle up next to him to demonstrate your lack of fear and your trust in him. You want to be by his side and provide comfort. You understand that it's unrealistic to expect him to recover from this infection given his history of being sick and having a weakened immune system. It's best to accept the inevitable outcome.

It's unclear how much time has passed while the two of you remain in that position. His arm securely around your shoulder holding you close, with your arm laid across his lap where your fingers provided soft circles against his hip bone. The room grows darker as the sun sets. The air feels eerie yet comforting all at once with Wil by your side. Nothing but the sounds of his raspy breathing and occasional coughing fit to surround you. He whispers through the dark against the crown of your head with horse words. Sweet nothings, promises that make you curl into him further so he can't see the single tear you shed.

He lifts his hand to gently cup your cheek, tilting your head to meet his gaze. Selfishly, he leans in for a soft kiss. You whine at the metallic taste in his mouth when he groans to part his lips so his tongue finds yours. It makes your head spin like a top how this man makes you feel. His lips are chapped, rough, and fast as he indulges in you for maybe the last time. You gasp and reach up to tangle your fingers in his locks to reel him closer to you. His hand finds the underside of your thigh, digging into your flesh. The mere touch of his hand sets your body ablaze and sends shivers down your spine.

It's frantic and passionate, your love for him shown physically. When you disconnect, suddenly remember you need to breathe. his eyes are hazy and his pupils are blown. You are sure you look like a flustered mess.

"I love you," he says sincerely, and you believe him.

It stings in your chest, you can't stand it.

"I love you more," you reply.

You tuck yourself into his neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and outdoors, and it's calming. Wil rests his head on the crown of your head. You neglect how his breathing has slowed as you drift off to sleep.

-

The next time you open your eyes, the sun peeks through the window, casting a golden glow over the bedroom. Your bones crack when you sit up to stretch from sleeping in the same position all night. You knew you'd regret it later when you had back pain for days. You turn to Wil, who doesn't stir when you move. Your heart dropped when you noticed something different about him.

Around his eyes were a darker color than the previous night. His cheekbones were completely sunken in where you could almost see the bone. his lips were a blueish color and his chest was rising and falling.

This was your fault. You should have stayed awake.

Tears streamed down your face as you called out his name, gently shaking his body, but he didn't respond.

"Wil!" you wailed, begging for him to come back.

You slumped forward, cradling him against your chest, pressing kisses to his temple, and muttering apologies against his cold skin. You felt your heart break as you realized he was gone, and tears rolled down your face as you held him close to you. You felt a deep emptiness settle in your heart. You knew you would never fill the void his death had left. You sobbed, gripping him tighter, and whispered your final goodbye. You held him close, cherishing holding home one last time. Knowing that you would never be the same again.

You're too distraught to move. You don't want to leave him here, but you don't have any other choice. The urge to keep on and survive was slowly fading now that you had no one left in this cruel world.

Wil felt heavy in your arms to the point where your arms were falling asleep, but you refused to let go. If you were to leave now, you may be tempted to never return to the person you once were. Allow your sorrow to consume you. The one good thing left in your life was gone.

You suddenly felt hands grab your lower back, causing you to yelp in surprise. Fingers gripe harshly at your skin through your clothes. Wil's chilled breath glides up your spine as he lets out a deep groan against your collarbone. He was alive? How?

His lips ghosted across your collarbone, pressing his nose directly into your pulse point. His hot breath fans across your exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise along your body. Then, you feel his teeth nipping at your skin, and your eyes widen realizing his intentions.

You jerk away and shove him off you roughly. Crawling backward, quickly shuffling away from him, your heart pounding, until your back hits the opposite wall with a thump. You wince in pain from the impact and notice Wil gradually beginning to crawl toward you. A fixed gaze over his sheer white eyes, almost glowing like moonbeams. Chills ran down your spine as you gazed at your former lover, unrecognizable.

You froze as he approached, shrinking in on yourself. His body lazily dragged itself across the wooden floor, scrapping and groaning with every floorboard. Once he was close enough, his hand unexpectedly reached to grasp your ankle, and you screamed in fear. Nails harshly dig into your skin and create recent moon shapes that make you cry out.

He yanked you with a surprising strength until you were laid beneath him, overbearing you. You are powerless as Wil, or not Wil's body leaned over you and cadged you with his arms. Tears flow from the corners of your eyes and into your ears as his face inches towards you.

"Please," you whisper. Again, he tilts his head in curiosity at you.

"William?" Your eyes bore into his, trying to find some trace of life left in them. You observe his eyes returning to their natural color and a look of terror crossing his face as he regains consciousness. He staggers back and moves away from you frantically, clutching his chest and struggling to breathe.

You both sit on opposite sides of the room against the wall, he stares into the floor burning holes into the wood, avoiding your eyes. You just blink blankly at him in shock, knees tucked against your chest again.

Wil cradled his skull, clutching fist fulls of his hair, squeezing his eyes shut, and heaving breaths of panic puffed out his mouth. Mumbles of "I'm sorry," repeated like a mantra over, and over out shakily.

You let out an unsteady breath, His eyes quickly flicked over to you and fear flooded your senses once again.

"Darling?" he tries, his voice hoarse. He moves towards the center of the room, positioning himself a safe distance from you. “I'm sorry... I don't know what came over me..." his voice trails off.

He noticed your tense reaction upon watching him inch closer to you, and it broke his heart to see you trembling in fear due to his prior actions. He could never forgive himself for causing you such distress.

"is it really you?" you asked.

"I don't know," he says honestly. "I don't feel like myself, It's like I'm trying to grab hold of a stearing wheel and fight for control right now."

Your heart sank at his words. You let them maul over in your head for a moment. It sounded like your Wil, but you hesitated in reaching out to him. So, was he alive? He didn't look it, his skin was still deathly pale and almost decayed. Nose now dripping with dried blood that ran down his lips.

His head hangs low as he silently sobs. He didn’t want this. Now he was dead and was leaving you to defend yourself. He swore he would always protect you and he’s failed. He knows its selfish to ask you to stay with him, you should just leave him here to rot. Still, he begs you.

“Please, darling dont leave me,” You shake your head and crawl towards him. He might be an undead zombie now, but you still loved him more than anything else is this life. You would do anything for him. You take his face in your hands to tilt his head up but he avoids your eyes. “look at me,” his eyes shift to yours.

“I wanna help you baby, and im sure as hell not gonna leave you, not now, not ever.” you proclaim. “So don’t you dare ever try and push me away, because im staying. No matter how complicated things get.”

You bring yourself to kiss his forehead, your warm lips making him sigh out from the touch. He holds you for what feels like hours. Eventually you both know you’ll have to leave this abandoned apartment, whether you run out of food or more zombies show up. move on, then figure things out. Whatever it takes you would stay together, no matter what.

taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez @starsyoubreaklikesugardust @drop-of-void

[omiiverse]

Reader has a crush on Ominis and tells Imelda. Sebastian eavesdrops the confession, He is obsessed with her since 5’ year. He decides to use polyjuice to pursue her. How difficult can it be to impersonate your blind friend?

polyjuice - sebastian sallow x reader

cw: angst, slight smut if you squint, kissing, unedited

an: Thank you for your request anon! I had the utmost fun writing this lil blurb 🫶 Idk what it is but I’m such a sucker for some angst lol I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe

It was almost challenging for him; But of course, nothing was too difficult for Sebastian Sallow once he set his mind to it. On one of his late night visits to the Restricted Section, he stumbled upon something rather odd. Fascinating really. A transformative potion. 

“Polyjuice.” Sebastian reads the words aloud in a mumbled breath. 

Enables the consumer to assume the physical appearance of another person, as long as they have first procured part of that individual’s body to add to the brew (this may be anything – toenail clippings, dandruff—

 Ugh. How awful. As quickly as he picked it off the shelf, he placed it back in its dusty empty space. 

Within the following weeks, Sebastian forgot all about his late night discovery in the library. That is, until he overheard your conversation with Imelda Reyes.

“You can’t be serious.” Imedla scoffs, distaste clearly written all over her face. “Gaunt?”

Sebastian peers over the book he was currently reading; stealing glances of you from the regal couch. 

You nod, smiling softly as if his friend’s name was a treasure itself. 

“Be careful.” The Slytherin quidditch captain loops her arm in yours. “Pureblood enthusiasts – the lot of them. Nasty folk if you ask me.”

“He isn’t like that.” Sebastian speaks the words before you can. Being protective of his friend was almost like second nature to him. He closes his book before making his way over to the two of you. “Don’t speak of him that way.”

“Sallow.” Imelda raises a  brow, failing to hide her disapproving tone.

“Reyes.”

You approach your friend cautiously, fiddling with the ends of your books, not wanting him to be disappointed in you.

“I’m sorry you overheard that.” You immediately apologize, not wanting to give Sebastian the wrong idea. “I agree. Ominis isn’t like that.”

Your words are firm, making Sebastian regret ever saying anything in the first place. The corner of his mouth twitches, irritation burning in the pit of his stomach. Your loyalty should belong to him and him only. 

He nods, unable to conjure any words before swiftly walking back to his common room. The short interaction was enough to have Sebastian convinced. That night, he’d be returning to the restrictive section. 

Despite the book mentioning that Polyjuice Potion should only be brewed by the most talented of all Witches and Wizards, Sebastian found the warning hard to believe; While he considered himself subpar at potions at the very best, he experienced little to no difficulty to execute the recipe’s instructions. The only challenge he encountered was procuring a piece of his friend. And Ominis was not a fool; His performance in school only proving that he was one of the brightest Wizards in their year. There was little that would go unnoticed by him. However, a single hair is all it took and Sebastian’s secret Polyjuice Potion was complete.

Sebastian peers into the cauldron, fanning his hand across, hoping it would get rid of some of the putrid smell. Luckily for him, nobody used the bathroom on the fourth floor at this hour. Heavy clouds emit from the dark bubbling liquid, making Sebastian almost second guess this idea. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, doing his utmost best to chase away any remaining feelings of self doubt. Without a second thought, he dunks a tiny glass beaker, filling it to the brim. He raises it to his lips, hesitating for only a bit, before daring to taste his concoction. 

Just a sip of the thick bubbling potion was excruciatingly painful; the effects taking place almost immediately. Sharp pains emit from the top of his head as if someone was ripping chunks of hair from his scalp. Muscles begin to spasm; followed by the sounds of cracking bones. The pain seems to last forever until finally, it begins to subside.

“Oh for fucks sake.” He groaned, his voice was unfamiliarly hoarse. He grabs onto the edge of the sink, doing his best to not fall over from the obnoxious pounding in his head. Through squinted eyes, he peers into the dirty mirror only to find that it is not himself that is reflected back but the weary face of Ominis Gaunt.

The castle at night was eerie but Sebastian was able to make his way back to the Astronomy Tower without any difficulty – knowing the corridors of Hogwarts like the back of his hand. He knew that if there was one place you would be, he’d find you there. 

Clamoring up the staircase, he feels his heartbeat nervously in his chest. Despite his ability to wear the face of his closest friend, he knew there would be a possibility of you seeing right through the facade. You were a bright Witch afterall. Would you take notice? 

A strong breeze hits him as soon as he emerges on the deck. There he find you leaning against the railing peering upwards into the starlit sky; The moon illuminating your small frame. The sight alone is enough to leave Sebastian breathless. 

Without thinking, he feels his legs stride forward, heavy footsteps thudding against the wooden floor until he’s right behind you. The sound of someone approaching, makes you turn around.

“Ominis.” You smile, an elated look immediately lighting up your face. The soft tone in your voice makes Sebastian’s chest pang with envy.  It was a sweetness that was reserved for his friend and was tormentingly unfamiliar to Sebastian. Your reaction was disenchanting; Shattering the illusion that perhaps living under the skin of his closest friend would extinguish the flames of jealousy that blazed brightly within him.  The harrowing truth remained that you weren’t speaking to him. Not really. This sweetness was not for him. And the pain of wanting but not truly having you made his heart ache with a craving — a dark desire, to have you for himself. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” Your arms wrap around his torso, breaking him from his self deprecating thoughts. 

“I…” He hesitates, not wanting you to catch on, before slowly relaxing and taking you into his arms. You felt so good. So right. But yet again, his intrusive thoughts invade his mind, ruining the sweet moment of your embrace. This moment was not meant for him. 

You look up at him expectantly, pressing your cheek into his chest, as if you couldn’t bear to be apart from him. A breath escapes Sebastian's lips, finding himself completely captivated by your gaze. 

How cruel, Sebastian thought to himself. This moment was all too perfect however, none of it belonged to him. 

“Omi–!” He cuts you off, cupping your face in pale hands, and pressing his lips against yours. You gasp, completely taken off guard by the sudden onset. He feels your lips part, deciding to take advantage of your surprise, his tongue darting out to tangle with yours. You grip onto his arms, your legs threatening to give out; the heat of the moment almost too much to bear. 

Sebastian groans, savoring your sweetness, His thumbs caresing your cold cheeks, as he pulls away to nip at your bottom lip. The delicious sting elicits a needy whine, making you crave touches beyond a simple kiss. You stand on tippy toes wanting to be as close as possible; Allowing Sebastian to pepper open mouthed kisses along your neck, the light stubble from his chin sending shivers down your spine and causing an unfamiliar wetness to pool between your legs. 

It takes everything Sebastian has to finally pull away; He’d drink tenfold of any Polyjuice Potion before denying himself of you. But no matter how much his heart ached, he couldn’t find it within himself to betray the man he considered as close as a brother. And the thought of causing you pain was worse than anything he could imagine; He'd rather die.

He closes his eyes, silently praying for forgiveness before muttering the words that would wipe this memory from existence. 

“Obliviate.”

[sparrow-orion-writes]

the path i've always walked

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial

Unedited, because it took me two hours to write it 😂 A little cosy fantasy. Break from all the angst. Mostly.

--

I'd always been somewhat charming, charismatic.

Most people had a compliment for my smile, or my eyes, or something so innocuous I wouldn't have considered it. And I didn't consider it. My own ego was the size of a deflated balloon, despite the fact that almost everyone had a compliment for me.

Call that the social isolation of feeling separated - in some way or another - from others. I was an only child to two parents who loved me enough to hide me from the world. I didn't understand the world around me; that didn't stop me diving into it at 18.

I'd been a pretty child. I had a lovely smile, lovely hair, and whatever else old ladies cooed over in the shop. Someone always wanted to give me a present, so despite my loneliness, I could categorically say I was spoiled rotten.

It was weirder still, when I reached adulthood in some state of obliviousness, to find girls would laugh at my jokes and boys would trace the line of my spine flirtatiously. I had never considered myself attractive, I'd never needed to. The things I said were like magnets, just jokes, little slices of humour, and people gravitated to me - orbited me like I was a planet of my own.

I paid it no mind. It was handy, sure, especially at parties. But I'd grown very used to isolation, and I liked that. I liked the quiet, the time to think, to draw, to stitch and admire the quiet earth as it was. The run of a stream through a forest, the sound of the sea waves, those were what called to me.

It was the forest where I found the violets, all tied up with a hemp rope in a bouquet, on the floor.

Amongst the well-worn path, they were vibrant and inescapable. I stood beside them and stared, wondering what misfortune must have befallen the owner. Maybe a lover's quarrel, maybe a murder, either way the poor violets had been left to wilt alone.

I scooped them up, considering at least putting them in a bed of grass so that their seeds could spread. My fingers traced the rough cord and - curious - I found the dirt-smeared card attached, made of clumsily pressed paper, full of lumps and bumps.

Follow the stream.

I always do, it's my usual pathway through this part of the forest, quiet, with a narrow path. A path that joins onto a stream that eventually joins a bog of sorts. Wetlands. Even in the summer, the mulch and water refused to dry up.

I wondered if the original owner of the bouquet had forgotten it in their hurry. Maybe a secret meeting - how romantic that would be - two people hurrying to meet each other in the sanctuary of the woods.

I wondered if they were still there now. I enjoyed other people's lives and stories, they were often more interesting than my own - and I could avoid the messiness of a drained social battery by observing.

I placed the flowers down in the grass, and continued my walk.

Despite the worry of barging in on perhaps an overly amorous couple, or some marital mess that I had no part in, I found my pace quicker than usual. My heartbeat, too, rose and fell with the deep breaths I took between my strides. I realised, quickly, that I was excited. Something about that little message had stirred the often-dormant giddiness within me.

Almost like some part of me wondered - what if it was for me?

A silly thought, of course, as good of a laugh as I can be, there was no one in my life that close.

The stream eventually met the butterfly-and-bee-bed of the wetlands, where reeds grew around a gnat-chewed wooden platform, guiding me to the other side. Spiders scuttled over lichens as I walked across the thing - which creaked beneath my feet, but never worried me as much as it often should.

Halfway through, where the platform reached the middle of the ankle-deep pool of water and mud, I heard a noise. Not a creak, or the sound of insects, nor the usual honk of the wild geese that frequented this place. No, it was entirely unnatural, this sound.

It grated over me and sank between the beat of my heart, plummeting through every nerve as if I suddenly resided beneath the water's surface. It sounded the way a wave feels as you wade into the ocean, cold and encasing. But pleasing. Like it intended to bring me to my knees.

I took in a deep breath as the sound echoed across the wetland, the way I would if I were coming up for air beneath the water's surface. I looked down, expecting the culprit to be there, but there was nothing but the reeds, the flies, the lichens and mud. I looked behind me, but there was nothing there either.

Turning, I continued my walk. What else was there to do? I both did and did not want to know where that sound had come from. Head up, hands clenched and pace brisk - I watched the end of the platform and made for it with my heart thudding in my parched throat.

Then it said my name. Soft, calm, like an undisturbed lake in summer. And I stopped.

"I see you found my violets," the voice continued, the sound of rushing water embellished into every syllable that lilted from its gentle tone. "I left them for you, there's an innocence in them - don't you think?"

I didn't want to turn around.

"Who - who are you?" I whispered.

"My name is Reed," the water rippled gently. "I am the keeper of this place, I keep the water right, the insects fed, and the true course of nature running smoothly - you come through here often, I see you, twice a week, it's not often I see someone like you, you made me curious."

"Someone like me?"

"Turn to see me, do not be afraid - I am odd for you, but I mean you no harm."

I stood very still for a long moment. Reed didn't push or insist, but waited silently. I could hear the distant sound of a waterfall, but in the pace of a human breath - in and out rhythmically.

I turned one foot at a time, shuffling around with my eyes initially fixed to the wooden platform.

"The squirrels were kind enough to leave the violets for me." And opposite me was something. Not a man or women, not a person at all. There were eyes amongst the mass of interwoven reeds and blossoming flowers - a body amassed of the thing itself, the water beneath, running endlessly in a figure indiscernible.

I felt half mad, and the rest astoundingly calm. A sense of rightness and understanding washed over me. Slowly, I sat down, trembling. "Are you okay?" Reed uttered, hesitant to draw any closer.

"What...what are you?"

"I am..." it trailed off "...this." it gestured around "...I am its mind, its heart, its stomach." I didn't want to ask, and it didn't offer a response.

"What did you mean, someone like me?"

"Half-human, your soul is of the sea, a siren's song rests in your voice - I felt it when you walked amongst my reeds the first time, your song fills this place with vibrancy."

The words hung around me a moment, lingered, and then fell through me with the sinking sensation of a stone in a river. Those words implied many things - an otherness I had always felt, for one, and a loneliness of isolation that suddenly meant all the more sense.

In some way or another, I suppose my parents had known. But how? Was I adopted? Abandoned? Had I been left to the wolves and brought into safety? Or worse, was there a sordid tale between my parents that neither dared to speak of?

"Your magic is very healing," Reed's voice became the whisper of a stream "...you are very healing, I felt it, I saw it, when you feed my birds and talk to my insects - you are full of such potential to care."

I felt a little embarrassed then, that someone witnessed me talking to the bees with the same enthusiasm a mother chats to a child.

"Why?" It was all that was left to ask after the long silence.

"The world needs you," Reed knelt - in a way - to the wood and peered up with eyes moulded out of weeds. "The human race needs you, whether they know it or not."

"What do I do?"

"Just exist - sing your song, be yourself, as you have done here...look how I thrive thanks to your medicine." It's true, I thought, that the place was so green - greener than any other part of the forest, of most places this close to the city, in fact. "That is why."

I smiled, finding some strength to stand. "Thank you, Reed." I didn't envy the conversation with my parents, when that day would come. If that day came.

"Thank you."

There was the distant sound of chattering voices. Reed stood, nodded towards me one last time, and then dove beneath the surface of the water. It was not deep enough to dive in, and the water seemed entirely undisturbed by its movement. A moment later, a young couple came into view on the other side, chattering away.

I turned and continued my walk, as I already had.

But as I did so, I sang softly under my breath.

[nix-needs-coffee]

Infallible

Anna spends a lot of time on her own.

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Anna sank deeper in her chair in the back garden, bringing herself to the edge of the seat so she could rest her head lower against the backboard. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms tightly around her middle, and sent out a silent prayer that no one would notice her presence. Blades of dried grass scratched painfully at her bare feet as she slid further from sight, making herself as small as possible to avoid being seen from the window looking out from the kitchen. She stayed in her position, still and imperceptible by the inhabitants of the house as their notes of laughter emanated out, ringing impossibly loud in the tranquility of the night, disrupting her solitude with reminders of what she could no longer avoid.

Katherine’s voice, high-pitched and animated as she recounted Anne’s latest blunder between fits of giggles, resonated loudest. In the twilit garden and in her thoughts.

Anne, attempting to thwart Katherine’s story with loud complaints of what had allegedly occurred, was drowned out by the laughter of Jane and Aragon. Joyous, exuberant, and radiant, their hysterics were in direct contradiction with the leaden, back-breaking weight pressing Anna downward into the particle board and driving the air from her lungs into the darkened sky.

Tones of Parr’s opinions indiscernible amid the din, which she would typically find soothing regardless of the absence of words felt hollow and menacing with her low-pitched timbre.

Anna’s breath caught in her throat when those rich, indistinguishable intonations began to increase in volume and form coherent, unambiguous words and statements. Beneath her iron grip around herself, she could feel her heartbeat drumming a too quick tempo in each limb. Her pulse crescendoing in her ears, it overwhelmed everything but the sound of that deep, honeyed voice heading in her direction.

“Hey, we were just looking for you, you know,” Parr whispered in her usual mellow demeanor, tapping the arm of the chair as she walked around to face Anna. “Are you alright?”

Anna could only nod her response before dropping her chin to her chest, not trusting that she would be able to hold everything together just yet. Thankful for the bright lights of the kitchen which had kept her from seeing her with clarity, the brief moments it took for Parr’s eyes to adjust gave Anna  just enough time to brace herself, feigning a half-asleep demeanor of relaxation. She even managed a small upturn at the corners of her mouth, more a grimace than a smile, but enough to fool Parr in the dim evening light.

“You should have heard what Boleyn got up to today,” Parr began before trailing off, catching on to the sight in front of her. Slowly lowering herself down to the ground, she sat cross-legged at Anna’s feet. Reaching out, she laid a comforting hand against Anna’s knee. Anna had to school her reaction, biting her lip instead of jumping at the contact. The taste of copper flooded her mouth. “I’ll let Katherine tell you. Her Boleyn impression has become quite impressive.” Parr continued cheerfully.

She gave Parr a soft hum in response before making as if she was interested. “Looking forward to hearing that one,” she faked a laugh and flashed another grimace. Parr didn’t appear to detect any of the falsity of her words.

“You used to do this before, too, sitting out on your own” Parr acknowledged, angling her head to catch Anna’s gaze. “I never learned why.” She gave Anna one of her dazzling smiles, exuding light-hearted curiosity.

Anna gave her an evasive shrug of one shoulder, breaking eye contact with her to watch a bird hop from branch to branch in a nearby bush. Parr wouldn’t understand why she did it. None of the girls ever would. “Just like to reflect on my day a bit. Process what has happened.”

“I’ll leave you to get on with it then,” Parr said, once again patting Anna’s knee. She stopped, fleetingly, when Anna was unable to control her reaction to the touch, but continued back toward the door without comment.

Anna watched her rejoin the rest of the girls in their antics. It was where she belonged, surrounded by those that loved her, illuminated and vivid. Anna wasn’t made for that world. Hers was out in the fading glow of the last rays of the sun. Adjacent to a world she would never quite belong to, aching in every part of her to be included in, she would stay at the fringes of those moments.

She had learned what can happen when people chip away at the bricks painstakingly built to towering heights, finding faults within the mortar to exploit and bring the carefully constructed fortifications crashing down.

Even just one clandestine person breaching the walls can be found and used against you.

Katherine’s laughter rang out again into the chilled air as if no time had passed since they had last spun each other around on the ballroom floor. Anna flinched, willing her mind to go anywhere else.

When the cracks become too deep and the heart reigns free, you’re left with nothing and no one in the end. Not even yourself.

She wouldn’t allow those barricades to be fractured again.

[thera-daydreams]

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴏʟᴅ ʟᴀᴅʏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

ᗢ jujutsu kaisen x scarletwitch!reader ᗢ

12. destiny

Chapter Index & Synopsis

warning: will contain spoilers from the jjk manga and the latest mcu movies/comics/shows (particularly wandavision, loki, spiderman: nwh, as well as content from doctor strange in the multiverse of madness). once again, this will contain heavy spoilers—you have been warned. angst, cussing, cursing, murder, some disturbing themes, & swear words will be here, too. content warning as well for wanda's depression and suicidal thoughts. wow... 11k words? just... wow. longest chapter i've ever written in my life. but note that this is unedited and probably has a bunch of typos, lol. still, hope you enjoy! imma edit this later or tomorrow. hope it's not... too overwhelming... hihihi. this is my birthday gift to you all! thanks for 500+ followers and almost 800 notes on this fic! ❣️🎉🎂

[EDIT] 6/27/2022, 10:01AM: Renamed the chapter and removed some of the last parts after the events of Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness! They'll be moved and rewritten to Chapter 13.

(word count: 10,458)

(previous chapter)

Impossible. That couldn't be. Chaos Magic. Scarlet Witch. Those grave words echoed in your mind over and over again, adding to the weight on your shoulders. Hearing your sons grunt from the tight garrotes around their necks, you quickly snapped out from the revelation-induced daze your mind was in. The safety and security of your children was your number one priority. You couldn't think about yourself right now. No. Your kids only had you to rely on now that Vision was nowhere to be found.

"My powers work out here or did you forget?" you threatened Agatha menacingly. The dark-haired woman only chuckled.

"No, dear. I'm counting on it," she replied confidently before roughly tugging on the purple magical wires that were throttling your kids.

"No!" you cried out loudly, instantly blasting a bolt of black-and-crimson energy at Agatha. With a yelp, she fell to the ground, seemingly unmoving. Meanwhile, the jujutsu sorcerers who were watching had become tenser than ever. "That... knocked her out already?" Yuuji gawked. The others shook their head, disbelieving.

"Well, that was unbelievably quick for a fight," Geto crossed his arms, silently attempting to calm his own frazzled nerves. Still, like the others, they kept looking between you, your sons, and Agatha's suspiciously unconscious body.

"Go to your room!" you sternly ordered Billy and Tommy, slowly walking closer towards them to check Agatha's situation. Your arms were poised for battle, your magical mists swirling more powerfully—chaotically, synchronizing with the turmoil of emotions within you. But your kids were being stubborn, insisting that they stay with you and that they could help you. Frustrated, you were about to scold them about the gravity of this situation when Agatha's voice resonated from behind them. She rose up from the floor without bending, looking very much like the undead Dracula rising from his coffin. Wincing, fear struck Billy's and Tommy's faces (and frankly enough, Agatha's spooky way of getting back on her feet disturbed your sorcerer onlookers). "Listen to your mother, boys!"

"Now!" you shouted to the boys, far louder, stricter, and more serious than before, leaving no room for arguments. Quickly, Tommy used his super speed to get him and Billy back into your house. Now that your attention was focused on Agatha, you fired another bolt of energy at her, only for her to catch it—the red energy dissipating into purple in her hands.

Your eyes widened in shock.

"What just happened?" Choso blinked. The others with him were confused, too. None of your previous opponents have ever been able to catch your energy blasts. At that moment, your left hand suddenly felt number. You looked down at it, seeing that it had turned ashy—greyed and lifeless. It felt like pins and needles that wouldn't disappear yet also numbed at the same time.

"Wh—Wha—" you stuttered, stunned at seeing your hand shrivel.

Agatha smirked pridefully, seeing your magic become hers at last, "I take power from the undeserving. It's kinda my thing."

"Watch out!" Nanami and Toji had yelled involuntarily, seeing Agatha's own energy blast coming right at you. With how distracted you were, it hit you square on the torso and knocked you off your feet. Your body slammed and rolled painfully on the concrete of the cul de sac. You grunted at the sudden impact. Panting, you pulled yourself back up, hands glowing once more.

"You gotta give it to Y/N. She's really... durable, isn't she?" Geto commented, impressed. "Didn't even bruise or bleed after a magical hit like that."

"You're clearly in over your little red head," Agatha taunted. "So why don't you surrender your magic to someone who knows what to do with it? And I'll let you keep this pathetic little part of the world all to yourself." She walked towards you, unafraid of you at all. Your glare turned angry. Murderous, even. You didn't verbally reply when she asked again. "What do you say?"

Your response was hurling your car right at her, crashing into a nearby house. It was reminiscent of how you tossed a bunch of cars at Iron Man years ago in the Battle of Leipzig Airport. One person in particular was very much enjoying himself.

"Heh," the mouth on Yuuji's cheek began to laugh maniacally out of nowhere. "Heh. Hehehe. Hahahaha! Excellent, excellent, excellent!"

"The hell's wrong with you, Sukuna?" Gojo stared at the mouth. Sukuna's sharp grin only widened.

"This. This is what I want to see!" he cackled. "I haven't had this much entertainment in ages! I wonder if Y/N will kill again. I wonder if we'll get to see that side of her, that woman who'll stop at nothing to get what she fucking wants!"

If only Sukuna knew how much that would be true later on.

Perhaps it was wrong of them. It was supposed to be unsettling... maybe even unpleasant to see you—whom they always knew as a sweet, lovely, and kind lady who changed their lives—so aggressive and ruthless in battle. You were protective, almost warlike, just to make sure your children were alright. Instead, your change in attitude warmed their bodies. Sukuna was right. You were hot—no, that wasn't the right word. You were stunning... absolutely breathtaking when you were fighting someone seriously. Drop-dead gorgeous. In short, you were sexy when you were pissed. But the other men would rather keep that to themselves and not boast it to the world like the King of Curses did.

Yuuji, on the other hand, was not happy. He slapped the mouth on his face for the nth time, frowning just like Megumi beside him, "Stop talking about my mom like that, Sukuna! God, you're gross."

The five older jujutsu shamans could only avoid Yuuji's and Megumi's judgmental gazes, focusing back on you. You had been checking if Agatha was truly down this time, her black leather boots sticking out of the rubble left of the home, somewhat like how the Wicked Witch of the East looked when Dorothy's house fell on her. From the reflection on a nearby Window, you saw Vision slowly levitate down behind you. The boys recognized it as the White Vision that Hayward reconstructed for his personal ambitions. But you didn't know that. You approached the colorless Vision, eyes cautious, but full of hope and joy. "Vision? Is that really you?"

"No! No, Mom! That's not him! Not your Vision!" Yuuji yelled, engrossed in the scene. Of course, you couldn't hear them. They watched as he cupped your cheek gently, imitating the gentle caress the original Vision used to show you. You leaned into his touch, wariness gone.

"Wanda..." was all White Vision said, his other hand cupping the opposite cheek. Before you could react, his hold suddenly tightened. You yelped in agony, feet scrambling to touch the ground as the White Vision held you up in the air, your jaw and skull beginning to crack.

"No!" the jujutsu sorcerers exclaimed.

"And I was told you were powerful," White Vision remarked, almost crushing your head. He was suddenly thrown into a faraway trailer van, though, your Hex Vision appearing after disappearing since Halloween. You landed on the ground, knees bent as you breathed heavily as the pain in your head faded away.

"Where are the boys?" Vision asked, turning back to you. You ran closer to him, holding your chest and trying to catch your breath.

"They're in the house. Safe." Knowing you were lacking time, you immediately apologized to your husband. "Vision. I should've told you everything—the moment I realized what I'd done, I should've told you—"

Vision gently smiled at you. The sight nearly made your heart stop. He hadn't smiled at you genuinely in so long. "It's alright, Wanda," he assured you. He recalled everything that Darcy had told him; your history with Thanos and his deaths, how you were coping, and overall what WandaVision was. "I know why you made this world, but this—"

"I can fix it," you interrupted him, determined. There was a hum of wind nearby you. Agatha materialized once more, an interested look on her face as she gazed at White Vision, arising from the flaming explosion behind him.

"Oh. This is awkward," she mocked, a fine brow upturned as her dark nails rested on her cheek. "Your ex and your boyfriend at the same party. Who're you gonna choose, Wanda?"

You ignored her, turning back to your husband and nodding at him. "Vision. This is our home."

He nodded back at you, "Then let's fight for it." With that, he tackled White Vision and flew into the sky. Agatha, on the other hand, had re-materialized somewhere else, heading towards town. Your powers glowed once more as you levitated, following Agatha to make sure she doesn't do any more damage. The jujutsu sorcerers were automatically pulled towards you, and they found themselves in a floating bubble that was right behind you.

"So this is what she feels when she's flying," Megumi murmured in amazement, the sensation very much different when he was using his shikigami.

"It feels... nice..." Yuuji realized. He was going to ask you in the future if you could let him levitate with you. After a minute or so, the you of the past dropped down to the Westview Town Circle, alert and actively searching for the witch's whereabouts. Unfortunately, all you could see was the town residents bustling about. You walked around. Where in the world was—

"Agh!" You harshly stumbled face-first into the ground as a magical blast of energy hit you. Groaning in pain, you staggered to stand up once more, staring up at the rooftop where Agatha had hidden herself.

"That... must've really hurt," Choso whispered worriedly, seeing how you were physically struggling to keep up with Agatha Harkness.

Said sorceress only kept jeering at you, uttering the obvious. "Wanda," she drawled. "You've never been up against another witch before." She almost snorted at how powerless you were against her. It wasn't like you could do anything to her, right? "Did you know there's an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold? That's the Book of the Damned."

Darkhold. Book of the Damned. Book of Sins. Hearing that familiar title, the jujutsu sorcerers' attentions were piqued. Wasn't that the stolen grimoire you'd been looking for across the universes? The one that delayed you from getting to Shibuya? The one that was more dangerous than any other Special Grade Cursed Object they ever knew, including Sukuna's fingers? Sadly, the you of the past was clueless about what it was. However, none of them knew that there was something about you written in the book.

Seeing how oblivious you were, Agatha summoned the Darkhold in front of her, its pages turning to where she wanted it to be. She declared the ancient transcriptions out loud, "The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven; no need for incantation."

The jujutsu sorcerers listened intently. Not born, but forged? What did that mean? Was this a prophecy or something? Denying her statements, you irritatedly shouted at your opponent, arms spread out wide. "I'm not a witch! I don't cast spells! No one taught me magic!"

Agatha continued speaking, "Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme."

"Sorcerer Supreme?" Gojo muttered to himself, remembering the events of Infinity War and Endgame that they had watched. "Isn't that the Ancient One lady?" In the jujutsu world, he himself was probably the equivalent of Sorcerer Supreme—it was just that his title was Strongest Sorcerer, instead.

"But Y/N-san had mentioned that in the present, when that Loki guy visited the shop, Doctor Strange was already Sorcerer Supreme," Geto added. Agatha's next statement, though, caught them off guard.

"It is your destiny to destroy the world," she read out from the Darkhold.

That stunned the spectators. What did she just say? You looked equally as terrorized. Destroy the world? You? How would you even do that!? Frustrated, you snarled at her, "I'm not what you say I am!"

"Yeah! Mom isn't that kind of person!" Yuuji exclaimed even if his voice won't be heard by your past self. Agatha only gave you a knowing look, scrutinizing you head to toe.

"Oh really?" She began chanting in Latin, with the surrounding Westview residents stopping what they were doing. The first to snap out of the mind control was that certain blonde lady you'd interacted with at the poolside. Her smiling expression immediately became antsy as she slowly approached you.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Megumi said to himself quietly, looking at the other nearby citizens.

"Dottie," you addressed the blonde warily, not knowing why she was walking to you. Trembling anxiously, she corrected you.

"My name is Sarah. I have a daughter. She's eight," she started, tense; a haunted look in her eyes. "Maybe—Maybe she could be friends with your boys. If—If you like that storyline!" She seemed extremely wary to not upset you in any way; to comply to what you wanted as much as possible. "Or, uh, the school bully, even! Really, anything!" she begged worriedly. "If you could just... let her out of her room. If I could just hold her, please!"

It dawned unto the sorcerers that this was like that time when Vision awakened the real Norm, desperate and in pure agony. It was what drove the initial argument between you two as a couple a few episodes ago. Your head snapped towards Agatha angrily, "What are you doing to her!? You're making her say this!"

Agatha gave you an annoyed look, rolling her eyes as she waved her hand, freeing the rest of the citizens from your control. "She's your meat puppet. I just cut her strings," she scoffed.

The Westview residents began closing on you, surrounding you—crying to you about what they were going through, begging you to set them free. To let them go. The sorcerers could sense that you were getting overwhelmed with all the people—all the voices calling out to you.

"Fuck," Toji muttered, unnerved by all the unwanted attention you were getting. Obviously, you were being pushed to your limits. And they already saw what happened the last time that limit was pushed. "This isn't gonna be good."

"I don’t recognize my face in the mirror, my voice when I speak. I used to try to resist you, but now, I can’t remember why, do you?" Herb, no, John, asked. There was a lost, haunted glaze in his eyes.

"Conscious of their actions, but unable to do anything they want," Gojo chewed on his lip, listening closely. Your powers were truly something else.

Beverly—whose real name was Isabel—was desperate, terrified as your head swiveled to her, "My husband is on a business trip. Tell him I love him and not to come back here. Ever."

The Westview pizza delivery guy, whom you knew as the happy-go-lucky messenger Dennis, exhaled tiredly, "I’m exhausted."

You shook your head rapidly, denying it, still thinking that Agatha was behind all this. "No, you’re fine, you’re fine! You’re all, you’re all going to be fine!" you assured them.

You kept trying to convince them to calm down but to no use. Norm—real name Abilash—spoke again, confessing to you the truth, "When you let us sleep, we have your nightmares."

"Y/N has nightmares?" Nanami asked, suddenly turning to your housemates. Choso frowned.

"We never hear anything from her room nor does she say anything," the half-Curse admitted.

"I don't hear anything either," Toji simultaneously said (which was a big deal since he had impeccably heightened senses).

"Our rooms are soundproof. I think Y/N made them that way," Geto mused, frowning deeply. "But if she does have them, she never lets us know. Or..." He sighed. "... She's very good at hiding it."

That was impossible. That couldn't be. "No, no, t-that’s not—that's not true!" Shaking your head fervidly, tears pricked your eyes. "I’ve—I’ve kept you safe... in here." You held your fists close to your chest, trying to push away that guilt inside you. "You—you feel—you feel... at peace!" It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more rather than them.

"We feel your pain," Sarah whispered, her agony on full display as she regarded you sadly.

"No!" you swallowed the lump in your throat. They don't feel your pain. They don't. They couldn't. You'd never wanted them or anyone to experience your pain. Never.

"Your grief is poisoning us," Mrs. Hart wailed.

"N-No, I am not—stop, s-stop!" you stammered anxiously. They were moving in closer. Closer. Too close. Go away, your mind repeated. You wanted them to move back. Move. Move.

"Please, let us go," a miserable-looking Norm beseeched you.

"I wanna go back home!" Herb implored, fear and despair displayed on his features. The countless voices in the crowd began to overlap, drowning each other out. Your vision narrowed; these people felt like two walls that would crush you in-between.

"Let us go!" they begged you desperately. You kept turning around, gaze switching from one tormented face to another, your expression frantic as you felt more and more suffocated in the middle of all the claustrophobic chaos.

"Please!"

Too close.

"Let us go!"

Move away.

"Wanda!"

Go away!

The resounding scream you let out was filled with excruciation, red wisps bursting from your hunched figure as you shut your stinging eyes and covered your ringing ears, trying to close yourself off from everyone and everything. Your magic automatically protected you from the so-called threat that it perceived, but it resulted in your powers strangling those people around you. When you opened your eyes, you were horrified to see the Westview residents writhing on the floor in agony, clawing at their necks, struggling to breathe as they gazed up at you with teary eyes.

The sorcerers seemed torn about the forlorn situation. They had no idea what to say, and they wrestled with themselves with how they should perceive you. It was unintentional, they knew that, but you... you were so dangerous when you were like this. Emotional. On the other hand, your circumstances had pushed you to becoming like this. You were a victim. Not a villain. Or so they hoped. Fortunately, they were beginning to see that you were starting to accept the truth of your actions. You weren't making the residents feel safe and at peace like you thought. It was the exact opposite.

"I think... this is why she made the Mini-Hex around the shop with a very specific goal in mind," Nanami realized forlornly. "She wants her customers and everyone else in the shop to feel the exact opposite of what these people went through."

"And it's why she said helping us in Shibuya was her way of repenting," Gojo sighed, unable to bear looking at you so... broken. "Man, this sucks. This sucks!" He kicked the not-even-real ground, mood soured.

Realizing what you'd done, you looked down at your hands in horror. It was Lagos all over again. You quickly removed the magic asphyxiating their necks, "No! No. Stop! I’m sorry!"

"If you won't let us go, just let us die," Mrs. Hart wheezed out, clutching her chest. That made the sorcerers watching the scene grow more concerned. Was it so bad... whatever it was you were feeling... that these people would rather die than go through it again? Was this what you felt and experienced everyday? Was it so terrible that even when you slept, you had night terrors that these people wouldn't want to see again? Was your grief so dreadful that it felt like poison to have it?

"I will—" you hiccupped. A stray tear fell down your cheek; a sniffling Yuuji in the corner was about to dash to you even if it was just a vision. "I will let you go, I promise—"

"What's stopping you?" Agatha suddenly chimed in, having watched the whole thing, simply amused. You turned around, almost forgetting she was there on top of a building. "Heroes don't torture people."

At her words, you gazed down at your glowing red hands, a determined look appearing on your face. Gathering up all your power, the ground shook as a crimson beam of light shot up from your entire being, hitting the uppermost portions of the Hex. With a loud cry, you screamed at the citizens urgently, "Go! All of you! Now!"

"Whoa..." the sorcerers gawked as the Hex was slowly reversed and opened. From this angle—right beside you—they could see how ginormous the barrier actually had become ever since you expanded it.

"This is Domain Expansion amped up to the maximum level," Megumi mumbled, eyes wide as he stared at the sky. As everything inside the Hex glitched from one time period to another, the scared citizens ran for their lives, the tears in the barrier growing larger and larger. In the corner, Agatha cackled pridefully.

"Hahahaha! Now you'll see!" Just as she said that, Hex Vision fell quickly from the heavens after his laser beams faltered against White Vision. He came crashing down onto the concrete road on your right. Your head snapped in the direction of the loud noise. Eyes widening, you realized that your husband was... fading away?

"Wanda!" he shouted, his voice sounding garbled and distorted. A look of horror crossed your already overexerted features.

"N-No, w-wait, what—" you stuttered out shakingly in fear as you stared at your love hold his arm out towards you. But you couldn't move; you were occupied and stuck opening the Hex, your arms still stretched.

On your left, behind you, your two sons—who'd been planning on assisting the fight with their powers—crashed down, as well. Both your husband and children began glitching out just like all the items caught inside the Westview Anomaly. What was worse was that they began dispersing—fragmenting into tinier bits and pieces the more the barrier was torn open.

"Mom! Help us! Mom!" Billy and Tommy cried out, terrified at what was happening to them. Why were they fading away? Why was their father fading away, too?

"W-Wha—" you stammered, looking at your children, in the same state as their father. You'd forgotten. You really had. Your family felt so, so real and true that you'd forgotten that they were a product of the Hex, too. The very same one you were dispelling at this very moment.

"Now do you see? You tied your family to this twisted world!" Agatha arrogantly voiced out. "And now one can't exist without the other!" What a dilemma you had on your hands. "Save Westview or save your family."

"This is a... shitty predicament," Nanami uttered sadly, unable to bear the agony in your eyes as you were forced to choose between saving the citizens and your own flesh and blood. Clear blue skies from outside the Hex had peeked out, contrasting the stark reds mixed with shadows and light that distinguished your world from the outside world. All of it in its sheer size and glory had come from you and now, it was being undone with your willpower to let those citizens go from your grief. But at what cost?

"If she reverses the Hex, she has to give Vision up again for the third time and then also her babies?" Toji scowled deeply, the scar on his lip curving down, too. "Shitty isn't enough to describe it."

"It's like there's no winning for Y/N," Choso whispered lowly. "Every single time she has to give someone up. First, it was protecting Sokovia against Ultron versus being able to stay with her brother. Then it was either Vision or the fate of her whole universe from Thanos. Now?"

"It's her family or those tortured souls she didn't mean to trap in her illusion," Gojo finished regretfully, jaw clenched. His arms were balled into tight fists at his side at the situation. He could recall the smile you've always given him—from an old lady to the young woman he's always admired. How was your smile so bright and sincere when you'd experienced this? All of this? He and the others watched ruefully as you faced another double-bind in your life. Both metaphorically and physically.

"I can't imagine how... strong Y/N is for going through all of this," Geto chewed on his bottom lip nervously as the scene unfolded. "And I don't just mean her abilities." If it were him in your place... well, it would be a different story.

"Boys!" Vision yelled laboriously, reaching out towards you and the kids with all the strength he had left in him.

"Mom! Help! Please!" they sobbed, falling onto their chests.

"No!" you wailed audibly, realizing what was happening as you struggled to keep the Hex open to let the Westview residents out safely. Your head turned from Vision to your sons, who were slowly beginning to lose their consciousness. Agatha could be heard cackling in the background.

You were practically the sole thing holding this world of yours together, muscles taut with so much tension and effort. If you broke now, everything—including your family—would dissolve into nothing. You can't let that happen. You wouldn't let that happen. "No," was all that weakly escaped from your lips. You gritted your teeth. Not again. Letting out a loud cry of pain, the veins on your neck bulged with the strain as you effortfully wrung your arms to your chest, effectively hauling and closing the borders of the Hex. The force behind the action made your whole body slacken with exhaustion. You fell to the concrete on your hands and knees, white spots dancing around your peripheral vision as you tried to maintain consciousness from your loss of balance. The world felt like it was spinning right now.

Vision, Billy, and Tommy immediately came to your aid the moment they stopped dissolving, fortunately. Your husband gently pulled you up, but all you could focus on now was that you could still hear, see, and feel you family. "Mom! Mom, are you okay?" they asked worriedly.

"Hi, hi, hi," you breathed heavily, kissing their foreheads as Vision kissed your head, all of you relieved to still have one another.

"Can't catch a fucking break, can she, huh?" Sukuna suddenly chimed in, the lips on Yuuji's face curled into a sneer. The others could only stay silent as they watched you reunite with your loved ones. It was a heartwarming sight, only for Agatha to ruin the moment once more, aiming her magic towards them.

"No!" you shouted with wide eyes, reflexively and instantly maneuvering yourself to act as their shield. It took no hesitation for you—not a second thought, even—to conjure a protective barrier against Agatha's magic for the sake of your family. Let it be you rather than them. But it led to you being her target instead, her magic siphoning out your own, a stabbing pain shooting out towards every single nerve fiber in you. You groaned tiredly when Agatha stopped, letting out an exhausted exhale as you finally stared at your arms. They were greyed. Numb. You couldn't even feel the usual coolness of your wedding ring and the silver watch on your left hand. The chilliness that had started on your hands when Agatha first stole your magic had crept up to your elbows now. To sum it up, it was an unpleasant feeling. Very unpleasant.

"Oh, fuck," Toji swore out loud, glancing at Agatha. "She took a ton more than the first time."

"Damn hag," Gojo muttered, bright eyes glaring at the Salem witch. (He wasn't the only sorcerer staring daggers at Agatha; Nanami in the corner was giving Geto's death glare a run for his money.)

Even Vision was getting more and more worried with what happened to you, his synthezoid eyes filled with such human concern. Your sons were also getting anxious with your weakening state. "Mom, are you okay?"

Clearly, you weren't, but you would never tell them that. You opted to just nod at them in reply, but they weren't satisfied with your answer. Before they could say another word, however, the SWORD troops and trucks that had managed to enter that earlier gap in the Hex surrounded you and your family. White Vision had also flown right behind you four, hovering and waiting for his opponent. Agatha, too, had scoffed and flown closer, cooing mockingly at the sight, "How sweet." All of you were surrounded, but you guys were poised for a fight. Together.

"Huh. It's like the Incredibles," Yuuji thought out loud, making the other sorcerers blink at him. After watching the sight even more, they mentally agreed with his statement. The four of you really were like a superhero family. Before they could say anything else, the scene in front of them shifted to White Vision and Hex Vision fighting... and then... not exactly fighting? Instead of a hand-to-hand showdown, it turned into an... extremely complicated philosophical discussion.

"The fuck are these two saying?" Toji huffed, crossing his arms. He—and many of the other sorcerers watching—had no clue about this Ship of Theseus debate (there were practically question marks on top of Yuuji's and Choso's heads). Gojo was drowning out parts of the conversation, just wanting to watch what was happening to you and Agatha. The only ones who had some semblance of knowledge about the topic were Geto and Nanami who'd read about it before.

"You are familiar with the thought experiment, the Ship of Theseus in the field of identity metaphysics?" Hex Vision inquired calmly.

"Damn. Identity metaphysics?" Gojo whistled. "I see." He pouted. Yuuji beside him did (and said) the same thing. "I don't get it."

Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Just listen to the synthezoids, you two."

"It's practically as complex as your Limitless and Infinite Void, Satoru," Geto chimed in. "You know, like the Achilles and Tortoise Paradox."

"... Too much... brain stuff..." Choso mumbled in the corner.

White Vision then replied to his opposite, "Naturally. The Ship of Theseus is an artifact in a museum. Over time, its planks of wood rot and are replaced with new planks. When no original plank remains, is it still the Ship of Theseus?"

Hex Vision added, "Secondly, if those removed planks are restored and reassembled free of the rot, is that the Ship of Theseus?

"Neither is the true ship. Both are the true ship," White Vision concluded, understanding what the other Vision meant. Both and neither of them were the Ship of Theseus... sort of. It was complicated.

Hex Vision smiled in relief, "Well then, we are agreed." At least there was no need for roughhousing and manhandling here. They were civilized men... or rather, civilized synthezoids.

"But I do not have the Mind Stone," White Vision interjected.

"And I do not have one single ounce of original material," Hex Vision pointed out. "Perhaps the rot is the memories. the wear and tear of the voyages. The wood touched by Theseus himself."

"So... Theseus in this context is Mom?" Yuuji finally understood after using ninety-nine percent of his remaining three brain cells. Megumi beside him nodded, murmuring a small, "Yeah."

White Vision allowed Hex Vision touch his head. Shockingly, the jujutsu sorcerers watching were also able to see the memories stored in the data of White Vision's forehead. Majority of it?

You.

His first memory after awakening was you, staring apprehensively up at his newborn form with so much caution in the Avengers Tower.

You, fighting Ultron's minions with him and the rest of the Avengers.

You, with eyeliner and mascara streaks down your face after your brother's death and when you'd ripped out Ultron's metal core.

You, unresistant in your sorrow and floating through the air, waiting to just die when Sokovia started falling like a meteor.

You, opening up to him about your grief on Pietro when you first moved to the Avengers Compound—that same day he changed your perspective about your family's and Pietro's passing.

You, levitating down with your magic in your new leather uniform as Captain America formed a New Avengers with you and Sam.

You, wallowing in your guilt after the Lagos Incident and the argument on the Sokovia Accords.

You, smiling up at him as you added a dash of paprika while you two were cooking in the kitchen, trying to momentarily forget everything else that had just happened.

You, escaping the Avengers Compound with Clint while restraining him and burying him a hundred floors down the ground with your powers, accepting your fear.

You, fighting those on Stark's team while you did your best to let Bucky and Steve escape to find Zemo.

You, in his arms on the ground as you recovered from hearing that screeching sound Rhodey used to distract you.

You, eloping to Scotland with him to sort out whatever it was between both of you—whatever you two were feeling.

You, walking towards him with a worried look on your face in that hotel room as you caressed his now-human face from his disguise, syncing with the Mind Stone through your magic.

You, standing on the wet street debating on whether you should just stay with him forever; to give up everything to be with him.

You, with that horrified look on your face as Corvus Glaive stabbed him before you were tossed away by Proxima Midnight.

You, trying to sew up his wound before he pushed you to dodge the weapon swung at you.

You, enraged as you threw a ball of psionics at Corvus Glaive, retrieving him and attempting to fly away with him only to be shot down to the train station.

You, staring at him with so much adoration in your eyes, telling him that you'd stay—that was before you stood up in front of him, ready to kill the two aliens who'd threatened your love.

You, tense and angry as he suggested that you destroy the Mind Stone during the discussion with Steve, Nat, Bruce, Rhodes, and Sam.

You, watching out of Shuri's laboratory worriedly, seeing the catastrophe brought about Thanos's troops.

You, flying down into that forest and running towards his fallen form, asking if he was okay while he felt Thanos near this dimension.

You, with that terrorized and tremulant expression as you readied your powers to defend him while Thanos eliminated your allies one by one.

You, crying, tears falling from your eyes, as you destroyed the Mind Stone on his head with one hand while you held back Thanos with the other.

You, hysterical as Thanos brought him back to life, stealing the remade Mind Stone before killing him again.

So much of it was you, and only you. Always you.

You were Vision's first and last memory. The one thing constant in his life.

After finally seeing both you and Vision's perspectives, the sorcerers could understand why your love story was so great and beautiful... yet ultimately so tragic.

And somehow? Strangely enough, seeing how Vision fell in love with you made the six sorcerers who adored you fall even harder.

Suddenly, they were back outside with you and Billy and Tommy, watching as S.W.O.R.D. agents pointed their weapons at Agatha. She scoffed, unafraid, before hoisting them high up in the air with her magic. "Same story, different century. There will always be torches and pitchforks for ladies like us, Wanda," she drawled boredly. She dropped the soldiers from a height that would seriously injure them.

"No!" you shouted, tendrils of red blasting from your hands, catching the agents before they slammed into the concrete. You let them down gently. With a serious look, you turned to you sons. "Boys, handle the military."

"These two children? Against the military?" Choso blinked. "Is that not... dangerous?"

"Well, you gotta give them some credit," Toji muttered. "They're not exactly normal kids. They're hers. Like her." He motioned with his head towards you. "Superpowered."

You glanced at Agatha, who was flying around, before turning back to your kids with a small smile—stroking their hair softly. "Mommy will be right back."

"Huh. Not the first time we've heard that," Gojo snickered, recalling the Shibuya Incident when you were... taking responsibility of Mahito and Kenjaku. "Mommy." Geto and Nanami promptly elbowed him on both sides.

They watched as you flew towards Agatha—who was also high up in the sky—dodging another of her magic blasts before you flicked your wrist and vanished into thin air. They'd seen you appear and disappear many times during the Age of Ultron, but this one... this was more similar to how Agatha had done it, with the mists and poof and all that. Agatha flew down onto the roof of a building, scanning her surroundings for your presence. But you were undetectable. Then, for the first time since your days with Ultron and Pietro, you did it. And if they found it unsettling before, it was downright creepy and unnerving to see you do it again after so many years.

You'd shown the ability to splice, edit, glitch, and reverse space and time. But they never realized that even when you were younger, when you were first fighting the Avengers, you already showed the ability to speed things up. Sure, it was seen with how space and time worked in the Westview Anomaly (plus your pregnancy), but now?

You soundlessly materialized from the shadows behind Agatha, walking eerily in an accelerated speed, like a movie being fast-forwarded but everything else staying still. You stopped right beside her, eyes glowing red. Wisps of scarlet emerged from your jerky, trembling fingers as you whispered incoherently, throwing Agatha into an illusion of her greatest fear. Just like you how you mind-controlled the Avengers.

"Hmm, old habits die hard, don't they?" Sukuna darkly chuckled, seeing the similarities of when you were first the villain fighting the heroes. He was wrong about his first impression of you—being only a nice old lady who was his stupid host's adoptive mother. This... what he'd discovered was much better. And he wanted to see how deep you'd go—how much hell and chaos you'd create just for the sake of your family.

They found themselves in 17th century Salem once more, the very same place they'd seen when Agatha showed you her own memories of when she stole the powers of her coven sisters. Said women were but withered corpses on the cold ground, the glow of the torches giving only the barest glints of light with how dark these woods were. Agatha was bound to the wooden stake, seeming scared at what you'd done. You appeared behind her, walking around the pole to stand in front of her, frowning at her deeply, "The difference between you and me, is that you did this on purpose."

The hooded corpses of her dead coven sisters began rising from the ground, bones and joints cracking abnormally as they stood up and moved towards Agatha. The boys were disturbed at the display of human remains moving once more. Sure, they'd seen cursed spirits do terrible shit, but turns out, some things still surprised them.

Agatha looked panicked, wide irises shifting to you. "No, no, no! No! No. Please, please! I beg you! No!" Then suddenly, her panicked gaze switched to a smug, unworried one. Your brows furrowed in confusion. The jujutsu sorcerers were baffled, too.

All of a sudden, the skulls of the deceased witches snapped sharply to you instead. They started chanting and repeating your name, voices raspy and grating at your eardrums. Behind you, Evanora—the ex-leader of the Salem Coven and mother to Agatha Harkness—pointed her withered index finger at you. You flinched in fear as you spun back to look at the woman, her scratchy voice speaking, "You..."

"That's creepy as fuck, if you ask me," Gojo mumbled to himself, face wrinkled in disgust. Geto beside him mirrored his expression.

Evanora continued to speak, slowly backing you into the space where Agatha was. Never did she let down her finger as she cornerned you. "You... are the Scarlet Witch," she declared.

"Told you so," Agatha smirked, unrestraining herself and moving away from the stake. More of her fellow Salem witches rose from the dead, grabbing your limbs and inhibiting further movement. Numerous bony digits tied you to the stake with glowing blue magic. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

"Harbinger of Chaos!" Evanora shouted at you, making you wince again. The other witches repeated those words again. Wanda... Scarlet Witch... Harbinger of Chaos. It was beginning to make you nauseous.

"So it is written," the witches murmured, eerie dead eyes gazing at your entire form. It sent chills down your spine. "So it is foretold," they hummed.

"You can't win, Wanda!" Agatha stated, confident as she knew you were helpless. "Power isn't your problem. It's knowledge." Right as she said that, a crimson crown—similar yet so different to the blue anadem worn by Evanora in her time as the Master Sorceress of the ancient Salem Coven—materialized on your head, perfectly framing your features; an ominous symbol of what was to come for you. It glowed in the dimness of the forest amidst the few torches, the witches—including Agatha herself—gasping in awe at the sight of something they only knew from a book. The jujutsu sorcerers were also intrigued by the sight. You couldn't see what was happening, but your peripheral vision had some sort of reddish glow to it, and honestly, your head felt heavier with every second that passed.

"Give me your power, and I will correct the flaws in your original spell," Agatha offered softly, sounding sincere this time. The sorcerers could tell that your strong façade was breaking, crumbling, with how tempting it seemed. "And you, and your family, and the people of Westview can all live together in peace. And no one will ever have to feel this pain again. Not even you," she added, her luring proposal leaving you mesmerized. The pull her words had on you were magnetic, even with all the witches crooning your name once more, tempting you like the devil whispering in your head.

"She can't be actually considering it, right?" Choso asked, turning to his companions, their eyes trained on you, bound and silent.

"Considering what she's gone through and what's happening to her at this time, she looks like she's thinking about it," Nanami replied forlornly, unhappy with the turn of events. Were you that suicidal all those years ago?

"But they don't have Binding Vows or anything there in her world, or maybe she doesn't know about it yet," Geto added, eyes narrowed at Agatha. "She can't possibly trust this woman."

That's when you yelled out in frustration, releasing a huge blast of red energy that knocked all the dead witches away from you. You glared at Agatha, who spread her arms with a triumphant smile as you tackled her out of the illusion you made.

"Wow, that was aggressive even for Y/N. But at least she's fighting back," Satoru commented at the way you zeroed in on the other witch. He crossed his arms then nearly choked on his breath, finding himself (and the other sorcerers) back in Westview. They watched from the ground—alongside Vision, Billy, and Tommy—as you and Agatha took your fight higher into the bloody red skies of the Hex.

"Take it! I don't want it!" you yelled at Agatha, angrily hurling energy balls of your power at her. Vision flew up to help you, but you prevented him from doing so by projecting a barrier. This was your fight. This was your choice.

"Wanda, what are you doing!?" Vision screamed. He slowly flew back down to the twins.

"... Oh, I... stand corrected," Gojo blinked at your words, too stunned to say anything else as you continued to throw more blasts of your power at Harkness.

"Damn, is she that suicidal?" Toji scowled. You kept catapulting energy bursts at Agatha with practically no intervals in-between. You had become so reckless that you weren't even hitting Agatha most of the time, the blasts ending up crashing into the borders of the Hex.

"Well, her aim is as bad as how suicidal she seems right now," Choso frowned, eyebrows creased in worry. Even Agatha was grimacing at how you couldn't hit her accurately anymore. The more you chuckled magic bolts at Agatha, the more your entire body began to deteriorate. Your eyes became hollower, your skin sagging and more withered, and your hair turning completely grey.

"Mom!" Yuuji shouted in fear, coincidentally doing it the same time as Billy and Tommy cried out for you. Vision embraced them, but even he had no idea what you were planning to do wth all this. More and more shots were fired at Agatha, with most of them dissipating into whitish rumbles and waves on the walls of the Westview Anomaly. After a few minutes of continuously spending your energy, you were panting exhaustedly now, the red in your eyes glowing dimly as you and Agatha encircled each other in the sky.

"Come on, Wanda! Escape your fate!" Agatha cackled as she absorbed more of your power. "Release your burden!" And so you did. You gave it to her. You gave your all to Agatha to the point that it would hurt when she accepted your power. At this point, you were nearly a walking skeleton. It was a miracle you were still up in the sky. "There's more! I want it all!" Agatha screeched.

It was Nanami who spoke, "... Y/N isn't being reckless." His perceptive eyes kept analyzing how and why you kept missing. You had a plan, he thought. He just didn't know what. "She's not planning to die. Not this time, at least."

"How can you tell, Nanamin?" Yuuji asked, teary-eyed at your state as he gazed up at you, looking defeated as you no longer had to throw shots at Agatha. Your powers were automatically being siphoned into Agatha's body, leaving you powerless up in the sky.

"Because she's not stupid," Nanami simply reasoned. "And she's alive in our time as the most intelligent and powerful sorceress of our world. And her own."

The other jujutsu sorcerers started to agree, but they couldn't help but be worried for your helpless form in the skies. In the distance of the bloody red clouds, thunder rumbled and crackled, almost symbolizing how close to death you were. The twins cried again, with Vision trying to soothe them.

When Agatha was finished taking the last of your powers, she tilted her head at you cruelly. "About our deal," she started. "Once cast, a spell can never be changed. This world you made will always be broken... just like you." She pointed at you teasingly.

Yuuji snarled at her remark, with Megumi gripping hid arm to prevent him from doing anything rash. The looks of the other sorcerers had also darkened when they heard what Agatha said to you. However, those gazes turned baffled when they saw Agatha attempt to finish you off once and for all, only for barely any of purple magic to appear when she raised her hands. She tried again. Nothing. Panic began to settle into her veins.

"What...?" Megumi blinked at the sight. They all watched as your aged skin returned to its original, youthful state. Your hunched form straightened itself, and your bowed head looked straight at the Salem witch's anxious expression. You slowly—just ever so slightly—raised your right hand, then waved it once.

A gigantic, glowing white and red symbol appeared behind you. Another one materialized itself on the other side, behind Agatha. She turned around, her eyes wide as saucers when she realized what was happening.

"Runes?" Agatha stuttered.

"Oh," was all Gojo let out. "Oh. Shit."

"Those are... really big symbols..." Yuuji gasped out in awe.

"Hmm, so she was planning this all along and made it seem like she'd given up," Toji murmured to himself, impressed with your cunning ability and long patience to play the victim. Even you had nearly tricked him into thinking you were the loser in this fight.

"In a given space, only the witch who cast them can use her magic." You echoed Agatha's words back to her. Agatha instantly regretted what she'd said and done. Funny how she was the one who told you that your problem was knowledge, not power (and then she proceeded to unintentionally give you that same knowledge you lacked). "Thanks for the lesson." The tiara of red returned to frame your head once more. "But I don't need you to tell me who I am."

"Damn, she's a fast learner," Sukuna whistled. Not just the runes and the absorbing of powers thing, but even your superb acting abilities (ahem, acting weak and worried) were something you had gotten from Agatha. "Well, that witch brought it upon herself by pushing Granny to her limit."

Choso hummed, "Huh. It's like an uno reverse card, is that what they call it?"

Geto chuckled as you were starting to emerge victorious in this battle, "Yes. An uno reverse card, indeed." He slowly clapped, head tilted up to see you turn the tables. This time, you were the one stealing Agatha's power and all the others she'd stolen. This time, it was yours now—centuries worth of accumulated magic reserves and knowledge. "A performance of a lifetime."

Agatha wailed powerlessly as you stole all her (and your) magic, making it your own. The violet energy from Agatha made its way to you, turning pinkish in the middle, and finally crimson on your end. A bright white glow engulfed your form as the magic settled in your soul; that light became brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding to everyone. The air around you had changed, too, looking like it was exiting and entering your body all at once. You looked like a star being born in the cosmos, and it seemed to prove one thing.

The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged.

And right before their very eyes, it had happened. No, it was happening. You transformed into what had only been a dark myth. A legend personified. The white light vanished to show you in your full glory as the Scarlet Witch, the crown fully solid on your head and your regal attire looking like that of fantasy royalty. Your arms were spread open at your sides, streaks of black, red, and white Chaos Magic swirling on your palms.

"Oh, God. You don't know what you've done," Agatha exhaled fearfully.

You looked like a queen—no, a goddess that had been birthed by the energy of the universe itself. With a gentle sway of your hand, you let Agatha down onto the ground and let yourself step on it once more, too. Their was an aura to you that was much different to the one you showed just a few minutes ago before you transformed. You looked and felt powerful. Elegant. Magnificent.

It was one thing to see your astral form in the Scarlet Witch robes and another thing to see you become it right before their very eyes. The jujutsu sorcerers were speechless for the nth time as you walked towards the fallen Agatha.

"Good girl. So, what now? Just gonna lock me up somewhere?" Agatha weakly spat. You stared down at her, shaking your head. When you spoke, your Sokovian accent seemed much more evident. Prominent, like the effects of the All-American-Dream Hex were already fading slowly.

"No, not somewhere. Here," you revealed to her. "I’ll give you the role you chose. The nosy neighbor." You stepped closer go the now-powerless witch.

"No, please!" Agatha begged.

"I’m sorry," you murmured, bending down to touch her head.

"No, you’re not! You’re cruel!" Agatha countered back. At her statement, a strange smile (or was it a smirk) crept up your lips. The jujutsu sorcerers didn't know whether it was because you really believed now that you were cruel or if you were just brushing off Agatha's words. Either way, how you accepted it nonchalantly sent a tingle down their spine. Agatha flinched away from your touch, "You, you have no idea what you’ve unleashed. You’re gonna need me."

You were undeterred by her words. "If I do, I’ll know where to find you," you assured her.

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Wait—" You touched Agatha's forehead, reverting her back into Agnes. "Hiya, hon! Say, that’s some kinda getup you’re wearing. Did I leave the oven on, or is that just you, hot stuff?" It was terrifying and amazing how effortless you did that to her.

"You live here now. No one will ever bother you," you announced calmly.

"Okie dokie, artichoke!"

The twins ran to you, tackling you in a hug. Vision followed, softly smiling at you, "So, it would appear that our dream home has been reduced to a fixer upper. I know you’ll set everything right, just not for us."

It hurt. Yeah. It did. But after so many times, you finally grew to accept it without any bitterness in your heart, "No. Not for us."

"It’s time. Should we head home?" Vision suggested. You nodded sadly, locking eyes with Monica before the you and your family leave the scene. The Hex starts to pull back in, gradually returning Westview to normal. It looked like evening when you all arrived back at the restored house. You and Vision return to your regular civilian clothes as you enter the threshold. The Hex continues shrinking as you and Vision tuck the kids in. The jujutsu sorcerer spectators found strings tugging at their hearts at the bittersweet sight.

"Okay, hop in. Snug as a bug," you whispered to Billy, adjusting his comforter.

"Big day today. Your mother and I… are very proud of you both," Vision grinned, every ounce of the proud father he was supposed to be.

You smiled softly, "Very proud. You know, a family is forever. We could never truly leave each other even if we tried. You know that, right?" The twins nodded at you. Holding yourself back from crying in front of your children, you kissed their foreheads and held each of them close in your arms. You would never ever be ready to let go. Never. But you had to. It was for the best.

"Good night, chaps." It was Vision's farewell to your children. They stared at you, all snuggled and tucked in for the night.

"Good night, dad. Good night, mom." You and Vision stood in the doorway, looking at the twins with a nostalgic glaze your eyes. How time flies. One moment, they were newborns in your arms. Now? They'd grown so big. So smart. So beautiful. So strong. It tugged at your heartstrings to see them like this. The jujutsu sorcerers were on the adjacent side of the twins' bedroom, watching as you said your goodbyes to your babies. It was a sad sight, in all honesty.

From the glass window, you noticed the borders of the Hex were getting smaller—getting nearer to the house. After a few moments of silence, you spoke up after mustering up the strength to say the words you wanted to say. "Boys…" you began. It felt like you were addressing everyone in the room, including the jujutsu sorcerers. "Thanks for choosing me... to be your mom," you finished quietly, your eyes brimming with tears as you smiled and switched off the lights.

The twins smiled. At least that was your last memory of them. At your words, Yuuji—standing beside Gojo and Nanami—burst into tears, lips wobbling. "Momma..." he sniffled, wiping his tears quickly. A sad-looking Choso rubbed his younger brother's back. Sukuna said nothing as his host sobbed. Megumi, Geto, and Toji were near you when you shut the bedroom door.

Then, they found themselves transported in your living room, seeing your longing gaze at the family photo on the small table beside the couch. You began turning off the lamps in preparation for your last goodbye, only for Vision to switch one on again. You turned around with a questioning look.

"Oh, I, uh... read somewhere that it’s bad luck to say goodbye in the dark," Vision tried to explain, but you knew him too well. You sadly smiled at him.

"No, you didn’t," you chuckled.

Realizing he was caught, Vision admitted it the truth to you, "No, no. Perhaps... no. Perhaps… I just wanted to see you clearly."

"And?" you teased, tilting your head at him. Vision smiled at you. He was always so handsome when he did that.

"And there you are," your husband admired, almost breathless. The sorcerers could understand. Right now, even in the midst of your goodbyes, you looked beautiful. Wonderful. You both walked to the window, watching as the shrinking walls of the Hex approached quicker. You and Vision tightly clasped your hands together.

"Wanda, I know we can’t stay like this," Vision began hesitantly. "But before I go, I feel I must know. What am I?"

Seeing his fear at the prospect of disappearing again, you cupped his cheek reassuringly, "You, Vision, are the piece of the Mind Stone that lives in me." You swallowed, holding back your tears. "You are a body of wires and blood and bone that I created." You bit your lip, trying to memorize his features for the last time. "You are my sadness and my hope. But mostly, you’re my love."

"Fucking hell," Geto muttered, staring up at the ceiling to stop his own tears from falling. He couldn't imagine how hard it was to say goodbye to the love of your life for the hundredth time. Gojo right beside him already had tears falling down his cheeks, but he was silent. Nanami was torn between watching you and your husband and looking away—it was such a private, precious moment and he felt like he was intruding. Toji closed his eyes, knowing exactly how it felt to bid farewell to his wife. Megumi had already looked away, but he felt his heart break with everything you'd gone through. Yuuji was still sobbing, with Choso comforting him but also listening to your monologue.

You and Vision shared a final kiss before he spoke again. "I have been a voice with no body, a body but not human, and now, a memory made real. Who knows what I might be next?" A lone tear fell from your eye at his words. "We have said goodbye before, so it stands to reason—"

"We’ll say hello again," you told him, your other hand caressing his other cheek. Then you felt it. You felt the last portions of the spell begin to wear off. The Hex shrunk around the house, flickering back through all of its different iterations—all those previous eras and forms. Vision began to dissolve into the golden wires, light, and fibers you'd initially made him from.

"So long, darling," Vision whispered. The last remnant of the Hex which faded was your wedding ring. Dazed, you looked around. You were back at the empty, unfinished lot you started with weeks ago. You blinked slowly, everything sinking in.

You were alone again.

This time, you accepted it and had come to terms with it. At least this time, you were able to have a beautiful goodbye with your family.

The jujutsu sorcerers were silent as they observed you pull your black hood over your head, going back to the now-normal town square. The townsfolk stared at you, some whispering, some terrified—their looks were a mix of pity, judgment, anger, terror, and apprehension. If this were their world, the jujutsu sorcerers knew that curses would have started swarming in this place.

"Y/N," Gojo whispered. So this was your walk of shame. You approached Monica. She only showed relief for you.

"They’ll never know what you sacrificed for them," Monica said sympathetically. You shook your head slowly.

"It... wouldn't change how they see me," you replied, heaviness in your heart. "And you, you don’t... you don’t hate me?"

Monica paused, then gave her honest answer, "Given the chance and given your power, I’d bring my mom back. I know I would."

"I’m sorry... for all the pain I caused," you apologized sincerely. Remorsefully. You'd never meant for any of this to happen. "I don’t understand this power... but I will."

When sirens from the FBI approached in the distance, you gave one last nod to your... friend, "Goodbye, Monica." She did the same before you magically changed into a hooded version of your Scarlet Witch getup, flying off into the distance. You took one last look at the place you'd called home—Westview—and moved on.

Then it faded to black.

"Is that it?" Toji said, looking around them. Complete darkness. Suddenly, they were in an area surrounded by tall, mountainous, lush forests and huge lakes. There was a lakeside cabin behind them, and you were quietly sitting on the porch in your loungewear, a cup of warm tea nestled in your hands. You were breathing in the cold air, seeming as if you were at peace in this place.

"Y/N?" they said simultaneously. Then, at that very moment, they heard a kettle from inside the cabin start whistling loudly. You stood up, walking back in. They followed you—even if your past self couldn't see them. Where were you now? Is this where you isolated yourself from the rest of the world? As they followed you, they noted the tiny details engraved on the wooden walls of your cabin. Runes. They watched you pour more tea into your cup before they sensed a sinister presence inside the cabin with. The threatening aura came from another room nearby—your bedroom, so it seemed. But you didn't seemed bothered at all. They rushed to your open bedroom, instantly stopping in their tracks when they saw the source of the dark presence.

It was you, in your astral form, eyes and hands glowing with your Chaos Magic as you flipped through and meticulously read the pages of the Darkhold. Your movements seemed erratic and unstable—hypnotized, almost, with your head and fingers twitching as you continued to absorb the contents of the Book of the Damned. In the room, they suddenly heard the voices of your children crying out for help, echoing and reverberating. Whether it was an illusion or not, they had no clue. But they saw a determined, darkened expression cross your face before you waved your hands. All turned red.

And they were back in the darkness, stunned. The next thing they knew, a hologram had popped out of the darkness they were in, showing them the rest of the events in your previous universe, concerning a few magic friends of yours... namely Dr. Strange messing up a spell with Spiderman and Loki (and his lady friend slash variant Sylvie) messing up the timelines through the death of He Who Remains. After watching WandaVision, these two events in your universe shocked them to the core. Just when they thought everything couldn't get worse, everything around them began rumbling and shaking.

They had no idea that what they had witnessed was only the beginning.

And you, as the Scarlet Witch, were just starting.

(next chapter)

Author's Note: So... this will be my last chapter for a few months. I'm not stopping this fic, don't worry! But updates might take longer since classes are back and this is sorta a critical semester in my program. Next update might be in late May or June, but it depends! Might still update monthly, but can't promise that. I'll still be active in interacting if you guys message or ask me in my ask box! But the next chapter... it's gonna be a while. Still, thank you for your continuous support and love! (You guys should also check out Darkhold: Omega where Wanda is just... wow. Have you guys heard the rumors that she's gonna go batshit crazy murdering the Illuminati and possessing another Variant of her to save Billy & Tommy? Damn.)

You can find my Ko-Fi here and support me even more! (Birthday gift... maybe? Pretty please? Heh. Bruh, I'm in my twenties now, what the heck.) ☕️🍰

Lastly, reblogs, comments, hearts, constructive criticism, and any kind of interaction are much appreciated! Just comment to be tagged and if you update your name/URL, please inform me, too! Thanks!

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[babecoups]

dream on || lim jaebeom (18+)

➹ title: dream on ➹ pairing: rockstar!jaebeom x demon!female reader ➹ genre: angst | smut | supernatural | slight forbidden romance | pwp/drabble ➹ summary: On stage the crowd screams his name, backstage he’s moaning yours. This is strictly business...or maybe it isn’t. ➹ word count: 1.6k ➹ warnings: alcohol consumption | smoking | supernatural & demonic elements | explicit & implied sexual content | implied spanking | multiple orgasms | pleasure dom!jaebeom | sub!reader | daddy kink | unprotected sex | restraints(wrist pinning} | creampie | dirty talk | forced orgasm | power play dynamics | pet names | praising | crying | clothed sex | public sex(if you squint) | biting/marking | rough & soft sex | unrequited love | pining | mentions contracts | pov switch | no happy ending ➹ rating: R/18+ ➹ a/n: this is unedited and written on a whim. it’s sad and i cried so, i’m sorry.

Thousands of people were just at his feet, singing his lyrics, allowing the strings of his guitar to take control of their bodies—they worship each and every thrust of his hips, every roll of his body. He’s their king, but to you—he’s only a peasant.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, closing the door to his dressing room. He waits for the lock to click before he ventures any further.

“Is it a crime for a girl to want to play with her favorite toy?”

You look up from your black manicured nails with a small smirk. He’s changed his appearance many times over the years, but this look he may just have to keep. There’s something about men with long hair that drives you mad, and you’ve always wanted to get your fingers tangled in some dark wavy locks. It must be your lucky night.

He removes his jacket and tosses it on the black leather couch before making his way to grab a drink. “You’re not a girl and I’m not a toy; now I’m tired so let’s make this quick.”

“You weren’t saying that last time,” you remind him, but he isn’t trying to hear your teasing. He doesn’t even spare you a glance when he passes you.

You follow him to the mini bar giggling; he’s the first human you’ve ever followed—and the only. He’s lucky, and he doesn’t even know it. He pours a drink and you roll your eyes when he gulps it down instead of passing the glass to you. Grabbing the bottle from his hand, you take your shot straight from the source, exhaling as if alcohol could ever have an effect on a being as powerful as you.

“What do you want tonight? Honestly, I’m tired…just wanna get some sleep.”

“You weren’t too tired for them,” you tell him, setting the bottle down and turning to him. You place your palms flat on his pecs and purr when he flexes them playfully. He can’t resist your innocent doe eyes looking up at him and within seconds a smile forms on his face. “...but you’re too tired for me?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a fucking brat?” he chuckles. The sound erupts from his chest and sends vibrations through your hands. You bite your lip to prevent the feral noises you want to make in response.

“Yeah, my father.”

“Do you even have a father?” he asks.

“No, but I always wanted to say that.”

You both share a bit of laughter, just standing there enjoying each other’s presence until the moment slowly fades away. Then, it’s back to business. You call his name, and he hums in response.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, his hands cup your face and he leans in. Your eyes close when his delicate lips are gently placed on yours. The pathetic world you stand on disappears and the only thing that surrounds you is the comfort you secretly desire.

You notice a change in his expression when you part; he seems surprised for a split second but recovers quickly. You can see the glow of your blood red irises reflecting in his dark brown orbs. For the first time your human-like mask falters, and he’s met with one of hell’s greatest creations. It must be unsettling so you avert your gaze until you regain control over your powers.

“Sorry,” you whisper, but he rejects your apology.

“Don’t be.”

“It gets worse,” you jest, but it’s the truth. 

“You mean better?”

“I’m flattered,” you respond, sliding your hands up to his broad shoulders. “So I guess tonight’s a no?...I’ll get going then.”

He grabs your waist. “I never said that.”

“But you’re tired?”

“My dick isn’t,” he counters, then he pulls you closer. “I’ll fuck you right here, actually.”

Your wrap legs around him when he scoops you up and lies you to the couch. His hands travel under your dress to remove your panties, but he discovers that you aren’t wearing any. “I’ve missed you…didn’t want anything to get in the way.”

“Good girl.”

His leather pants are undone in record speed. His sighs of relief once his cock is free from its confinements are pleasant to your ears. You feed off of his attention; he’s so willing to please you in every way possible, and you can’t get enough of his touch, no—you can’t get enough of him.

“So wet already,” he comments as he enters your opening. Slowly, he slides in and stills, waiting for the sensitivity to ebb away so he can slam into you with no mercy. He knows exactly what you want, and how to give it to you. All you have to do is lie back and enjoy the ride. “And warm too…feels so good.”

“The best you’ll ever have.”

He scoffs. “You aren’t lying.”

Your walls snuggle around him, bringing him comfort and security—something you’re certain you alone could never provide him. He spends minutes relishing in your heat before he delivers the first harsh thrust inside of you. Whimpers leave your lips when he nestles himself deep within you, selfishly claiming every inch for himself, as if you’d even allow another to touch you like he does.

They’ve shamed you for stooping so low with a human, but this feels too good for you to care.

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Come on my cock, baby.”

“It’s too soon. I can hold it,” you pant, shaking your head in denial.

He grabs your wrists one by one and pins them above your head then he  buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your back arches when you feel the sting of his teeth sinking into your skin; you try to fight the urge to release, but he’s making it difficult. “No you can’t, and you won’t. Now be a good girl and make a mess for Daddy.”

“Jaebeom!”

“Don’t say my fucking name until you give me what I want,” he growls in your ear. His dominance makes you shudder beneath him. The pleasure has you giving up quickly and obeying his orders. “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.”

“Fuck you–ahh!..I-I need to—”

“You want to come…so you should. While I’m allowing you to,” he chuckles.

Your eyes are screwed shut when your release comes with no warning. You cling onto him, listening to him moan your name and praise you for gifting him with the best pussy on earth. But you are no blessing, and you aren’t of this world; you’re just a businesswoman—who mixes business with pleasure. You owned his soul first, and now his mind and his body. He’s yours; regardless of whether you can say it out loud or not. Deep down, you both know who you belong to—you hope.

You can see your fucked out expression through his eyes, flaring red eyes and snarling fangs, but still he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful sight he’s laid eyes on. He worships you, gives you every bit of himself until he succumbs to his fatigue. He will literally let you suck him dry and still try to offer you more.

“One more for me,” he grunts in your ear, and you give him another and another…until you’re bent over, ass red and sore with tears rolling down your cheeks. He fucks you for hours and releases his load deep inside your womb.

You stay in his arms for a little bit longer tonight, running your fingers through his beautiful strands. His hands massages your thighs and ass as you sit straddling his lap. You sigh when you feel his soft kisses on your cheek, daydreaming of a life where you could stay this way.

“Jaebeom?”

He blows out a puff of smoke before he answers. “Yeah, babe?”

“How do you humans know when you’re in love?” The question has been lingering on your mind for too long; it really just slipped out, but it’s too late to take it back now.

“I dunno,” he sighs, tapping your leg so he can get up and take a shower. “I’ve never been in love…don’t really believe in it, honestly.”

Oh.

Whatever type of heart you possess in your soulless body drops to the pit of your stomach. For the first time outside of sex, you shed tears. Painful tears, mourning over something you’ve never had. Silly, foolish—you repeat those words a million times to yourself. Because you are, and it’s better you realize it sooner or later.

When he re-enters the dark, quiet room again, you’ve vanished, leaving his heart heavy with loneliness again. He often feels the regret of being too afraid to admit his feelings; he has to remember that your relationship is only business. You gave him his fame and he gave you his soul…the pleasure came much later. And somewhere along the way, he fell—and he fell hard. He just wishes he wasn’t the only one of the two who’s fallen so deeply.

Jaebeom frowns when he looks at the coffee table. An envelope, sealed with a kiss of your devilish red stained lipstick and a little message on the front.

“Here’s your second chance to find love, Jaebeom. Take advantage of it because some of us will never get to experience it.” 

A pain forms in his chest as his worst fears are confirmed. The demon that holds the contract to his soul no longer wants it; he no longer has ties with hell, and is not permitted to see her ever again. He may keep his fame and fortune, and live on to seek what his heart desires until he perishes.

But unfortunately, what his heart truly wanted just slipped right through the cracks. 

[daybreakx]

pairing: idol! seonghwa x songwriter! (gn) reader.

genre: fluff, angst if you squint.

summary: the biggest inspiration behind your songs might also be the reason you lose your job.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: use of the word schoolgirl (though it isn’t used to describe the reader directly). unedited.

a/n: this is for @ficscafe​ au pairing event! prompt #42: songwriter x idol ; where the idol realizes all the love songs are written for them.

feedback is greatly appreciated, please let me know what you think! and share my works if you enjoy them♡

taglist: @pinutbutterjelly

Seonghwa always got excited when he saw you arrive at the company. For a while, he thought it was the sheer curiosity of wanting to discover whatever was that you had written down in the notebook you clutched against your chest like it was your greatest treasure. 

And to be fair, it was. Every lyric you wrote wasn’t just a source of income, It was your deepest feelings and thoughts, sometimes your wishes and dreams. It was your heart you poured out in ink in those pages.

And it was Seonghwa’s group who got the most benefit from it. You had quickly turned into their most trusted lyricist, besides the group’s own leader. You were constantly at the studio writing, composing, adjusting songs and creating new ones that would become a hit as soon as they were revealed to the public. 

“I think that should be Seonghwa’s line, though,” Hongjoong underlined the verse in blue, searching your eyes for approval.  

The aforementioned perked up in his seat, a few chairs away from the two of you in the meeting room. This special comeback had everyone stressed to the point where you couldn’t sleep properly. You’d written around fifteen songs and the company had rejected all of them except for one, claiming the rest felt ‘artificial’ and ‘unlike you’. 

And maybe they were right. Fourteen of those songs had come out from forced surges of inspiration. Every verse and chorus squeezed out of your brain like crystalized honey from a bottle. All except for one.

“Yeah, I think so too,” you nodded, keeping your eyes away from Seonghwa as you marked the letters SH in your own copy of the song. “Do you think we should change the ending word? It might sound a little awkward.”

“I like it just the way it is,” Seonghwa butted in, finally catching your eye. “We should keep it that way.”

The rest of the group agreed with hums, stretching in their seats or leaning forward to grab their cups of iced coffee. It was almost 11 pm and you knew that after their long schedules all that they wanted was to get some rest.

Luckily, their manager got up from his seat a few seconds later, announcing the end of this meeting. The rest of the line distribution and whatever modifications could be done the next day, after another long set of schedules that would probably leave them too tired to pay the right amount of attention. 

“See you tomorrow, y/n!” Wooyoung and Mingi called as they made their way to the exit, the rest of them waved you goodbye while Hongjoong still talked about the points of the song. 

“I think this will be a great comeback y/n, thanks to your song.” Hongjoong continued, as you walked next to each other to the elevators, his group long gone without him. “Sometimes I really wonder where you get your inspiration from.” 

The elevator doors opened and you hesitated in getting in, as if being enclosed in the little silver cube with Hongjoong would somehow make him capable of reading your thoughts.

“You coming?” He frowned, placing his hand on the doors to keep them apart.

“Of course,” you chuckled, shaking your head lightly to clear your thoughts. There was no way Hongjoong could know you wrote songs about his best friend, there was no way you’d let them find out.

You crossed another line with red ink, in order to get rid of it. You hated it. You hated everything you’d forced yourself to write. Cheesy, nonsense lyrics that made you gag just by thinking someone—meaning ATEEZ—would have to perform them. 

The only thing that made you cringe even more was the possibility of writing the songs you actually wanted to write. Songs that talked about Seonghwa’s pretty eyes, gentle smile and soft voice. It was horrible.

You could lose your job if people found out about your true feelings, your silly source of inspiration, the one that made you write the biggest hits everyone loved and praised you for, was the reason you could lose all that you had achieved. 

Not to mention the eternal dread you would carry with you once Seonghwa realized you had a stupid schoolgirl crush on him and he—ever so kindly, let you down. Maybe it would be for the best, heartbreak was also a huge hit in the music industry. But you weren’t ready just yet to be crushed to pieces.

The cold air forced a gasp out of you as it hit you from all directions, messing up your clothes and hair, and making the fog clear out of your brain. KQ Entertainment’s roof offered a nice view of Seoul, and it always worked as a nice distraction for you, as you let your mind wander to the little figures of people sauntering the streets, all caught up in their own little world with their own worries, likes and dislikes. Maybe a few of them had your songs blasting through their headphones, Seonghwa’s voice singing the same lyrics you wrote about him. 

“You alright?”

You jumped at the sound of Seonghwa’s voice to your left. With his hoodie on and between the shadows, it was impossible to spot him at plain sight.

“Sorry,” he winced, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” you assured, placing your palm above your heart. Its beating faster than before once you realized who had scared you. “It’s pretty late, why are you still here—? I mean, you can be here I—”

Seonghwa smiled, stepping into the scarce light the roof offered. “I was still practicing a choreo. And I came here for the view, it helps me relax.”

“Right. Me too,” you smiled, sinking both hands in the pockets of your jeans. The thought of going inside the building rushed to your brain as quickly as the blood did to your cheeks.

“You’re working really hard,” Seonghwa addressed next, returning to the shadows to sit against the wall. “Thank you, y/n.”

“Ah—” you inhaled sharply, “You’re working really hard too and I’m grateful my songs get to be performed by you—you guys.”

Seonghwa patted the ground next to him, a gentle invitation for you to sit down next to him. “I’ve always wondered…”

Regret, fueled by the butterflies in your stomach, almost made you run back inside. Yet, with your jaw slightly set, you let yourself slid to the floor, bringing your knees to your chest so they didn’t touch Seonghwa’s.

“What?” You encouraged Seonghwa to continue, face leaning against your knees but looking directly at him. 

You cursed yourself, knowing you’d end up writing about this. The way the stars shone, even if the lights of Seoul City made it difficult to spot them, how your cheeks felt hot despite the biting breeze and how Seonghwa’s voice drew you like a moth to a flame.

“Is there someone you write your songs for?” Seonghwa let the words out before his brain could catch up with his tongue. “Because they— I mean, you’re talented and— they’re lucky to have such beautiful words written about them.”

You froze, arms caging your legs as your face drained of all the blood that had pooled there in the past minutes. “Um…”

“You don’t have to answer that,” Seonghwa added quickly, head whipping to look at you again. “I’m sorry I asked—”

“There is—" you whispered, your voice carried away by the wind yet loud enough for Seonghwa to understand the words. “Someone.”

Seonghwa always thought he was excited when he showed up at KQ because it meant you would show them amazing songs. Songs that had him smiling, especially when he saw them written directly with your messy handwriting as you rushed to get the words out. Seonghwa thought he was happy to see you because it meant he’d get to sing about things such as true love, deep as the ocean and wide as the sky. 

Seonghwa realized he was happy to see you, because it was you. Because he liked the way you frowned when another producer tried to change the feeling of the song by adding lyrics that didn’t make sense but ‘would stick’ with the public. Because he knew you spent nights up here in the roof when you felt overwhelmed with work, because he knew you hated every song you wrote in purple ink and every lyric you crossed in red. 

And now, Seonghwa realized he didn’t like your answer, as much as he had been dying to ask the question. 

The possibility was way too real, and he knew it. There was no way your heart wasn’t beating for someone if you could summon such perfect lyrics. Now he knew you thought of a person to do so. 

“Ah,” he murmured, cringing at the way his voice filled with disappointment. “That’s nice to know.”

“It’s—” you opened and closed your mouth several times, struggling to breathe like a fish out of the ocean. “I just get inspiration from thinking of this person, it’s not like we’re in love. That’s it.”

Seonghwa’s eyes darted back to you, even in the dim light, he could recognize the expression he’d seen in you a thousand times before. That one of avoidance, very close to dishonesty. You usually showed it when you acted like you agreed with the line distribution, and deep down you hated it. 

“In love?” He echoed. He scanned every single image of you that had been burned into his brain, but none of them he could identify as you being in love. And despite the disappointment still filling him, his curiosity was piqued again. What did you look like when you were in love?

You bit the inside of your cheek. Maybe after tonight, heartbreak would be the new theme of your songs, maybe even bravery if you managed not to choke before you could let the words out. 

“I think I might be in love with…him,” you explained slowly, eyes capturing every angle of his face. The curve of his lips, the angle of his jaw and the glint in his eyes as they looked into yours. 

“Do you think he could be in love with you too?” Seonghwa asked, observing you with mirrored intensity.

Before you could utter another word, he continued.

“He would be a fool not to be.”

“Have you ever considered yourself a fool before?” You let the words fall out of your mouth swiftly, arms finally relaxing from around your knees and into the pavement, your hand pressed wholly against it.

Seonghwa’s smile was inevitable. The mixture of emotions he’d gone through drowning in the warmth of this new discovery. “A couple times only,” he replied, his hand sliding down the pavement, searching for yours in the dark. 

Tentative at first, your fingers linked with each other’s before Seonghwa slid closer, his shoulder touching yours as his hands cupped yours completely. Squinting, he drew his face closer to take a good look at your face.

This. This is what you looked like when you were in love. 

This was the way you had always looked at him. 

[balsamfir-fics]

A Hope Never Forgotten (4/4)

Genres: angst, 99% canon, more angst, smut, childhood crushes to strangers to lovers, pining, more pining, the morning after

Pairing: Viktor/Female Reader

Word Count: approximately 4k

Warnings: 18+ for explicit smut (part 3)

Summary: You're Heimerdinger's adopted daughter, hoping to escape the burden of his legacy. He's your father's cherished mentee, the perfect protégé to take your place. Growing up together when Heimerdinger boards the young scientist at your home, you become an unlikely pair. You're inseparable, 16-year old Viktor thinks, until you steal his first kiss, upend his world, and leave without another word in the same twenty-four hours. Life goes on, and he thinks he might just get over you.

But when he sees you for the first time in over a decade later, hope rears her ugly head and resurrects long-dormant feelings. As you cross paths with him time and time again, you think that maybe, someday, you might stop running from the mistakes of your past.

Notes: PSA to GN/M readers/writers: please see the notes in part 3. Otherwise, this is unedited and was written in a cumulative 24-hour fever state, so be forewarned. Crossposted to Ao3 under the user balsamfir.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning at an ungodly early hour (given the rather vigorous evening you had prior), you lean against Viktor’s kitchen counter, coffee cup pressed to your lips in contemplation as you wrestle with internal decisions. Waking up to him this morning didn’t change anything about how you saw him or how you felt for him; if anything it only intensified your feelings for him tenfold. But what it did change was how you felt about your secrets, all of the words you poured out to him on notepad pages, all of the things left unspoken and unreleased.

He trudges in with a yawn not minutes after your first cup is finished, looking thoroughly ruffled but incredibly content for a recent hospital dischargee, and there’s a color in his cheeks that you enjoy seeing. You’re not quite sure if it’s a true change in his pallor or rather his reaction to seeing you in his sleep shirt at the kitchen counter, bringing up memories from last night, but you figure it’s a good thing either way.

“It smells good,” he hums as a sort of explanation for his early rise, stopping in front of you on the way to the coffee machine. He places a warm hand on your waist and leans in for a kiss on the cheek that is far too chaste from a man who immeasurably pleasured his partner the night before. “How long have you been awake?”

You’re silent for a bit, still somewhat out of it as your mind continues battling itself on its decisions, and you jump when he calls your name again. You look up to see him pouring himself an identical cup of coffee and raising it to clink against your mug in cheers. “Only a little,” you smile slightly.

Viktor nods, suddenly awkward after the taste of coffee on his tongue blows away the haze of sex with the one person he’s ever truly wanted that level of intimacy from. In the harsh lights, he’s forced to reckon with the reality of being on the other side of a monumental change in your relationship.

Finishing your second cup, you pass by him on the way to the sink with a drive-by kiss of your own (on the lips, because you cannot resist his). The soft suds of soap squeak brightly against the glass. You wrap up quickly and dry your hands on a nearby towel. But the towel stays in your hands as your finger worries over the loops of cotton; it gives you something to pick at as you muster up the courage to put your plan to show Viktor everything in motion.

“Vik, let’s have dinner at the old house today. I need to pick up a few things and I miss the flavors of Amelie’s cooking. Celebrate your recovery, too.” The middle part is partly a lie; you do need some things, but more importantly you have something you owe to him – the letters he’s never seen, stowed away in a hidden corner of your childhood playroom. You are finally ready to submit them, to let them be seen by the person they were written for. Once they are released, you will be laid fully bare with nowhere to hide – but you know it must be done.

A shadow casts over his face as Viktor internally corrects you – this is not recovery, this is simply an extension of his already-borrowed time. But he blinks it away so quickly that you interpret it as a wince of pain. When you start and rush towards him, eyes wide with alarm, he waves you off and leans against his cane.

“I’m fine. We can go if you have the need.”

You swallow, your nerves beginning to rise again. The prickles of anxiety pick at your adrenaline-fueled happiness, but you know the time is right for you to unveil the past, and you know it must – and can now – be done.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner at the Heimerdinger Estate is an affair, as usual, though your father is nowhere to be found. You’d extended the invitation, but a sadness in Viktor’s eyes reminds you that this past year has been full of intellectual disagreements and a parting of ways. Between your father being torn from Council and trouble with Hextech politics, you let his absence slide. Time would heal all wounds, you thought.

The dining table is comically large for a party of two; it had always been better suited at entertaining Piltover’s finest for several-course meals. Seated across each other at the center of the table width-wise was the best option, compared to either end of the table in the long hall, but even this distance felt vast. At some point, Amelie and her service team took pity on their familiar wards-turned-lovers (neither you nor Viktor had said a word to them, but they could read the difference in your shy, awkward, and yet inextricably close body language right away) and moved Viktor’s table setting next to yours. This was a small fiasco, what with moving all of the plates and myriad utensils or accoutrements, but the dust settled quickly and you were glad to have Viktor within three feet of you instead of ten.

You dine in a cozy, yet electric quiet; your hearts scream to be closer together, but the formal table setting and watchful eyes of the staff keep you stiffly composed in your seats. Still, conversation flows freely, and the setting of your childhood home invites reminiscence that the staff participate in as they clear away each course.

Wine heats your cheeks and weighs upon your eyelids, but you need it to build up the courage to do what you plan to do next. Viktor lets out a small laugh as he watches you sigh into your last glass; he sips lightly at his own, two or three glasses behind you in consumption – he can’t handle as much with his thin frame, but what he’s drunk so far is more than enough to relax him.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“There’s something I should show you,” you say at the end of the lush and luxurious meal, dabbing at your mouth with an embroidered napkin.

His beautiful eyes narrow at you from where he sits. “Here?” He asks, though he knows that the answer to that is ‘yes’ – there had been no other reason for having dinner in the Heimerdinger manse. “But you already packed away all of the things you mean to bring to my apartment.”

“Not everything,” you murmur. You leave your seat, folding your napkin beside your teacup. Eyes looking for the staff (only to find none; they are hidden from your view in the kitchen, peering through the small circular window without your knowledge), you extend your hand towards Viktor.

He glances at the smooth skin of your wrist and reaches for your palm, intertwining your fingers with his. You feel every callous of his tinkerer’s hand, every stroke of his thumb against your own. Your heart thunders in your chest from the intimacy of touch, but also from the fear rising in your throat as you prepare to expose your truths. You tug on his hand lightly and begin traversing the manse. Viktor’s hand squeezes yours with the length of his arm leaning against your side to alleviate some weight from his braced leg. You tighten your fingers in his.

The house is as impossibly large as ever, dimly lit for a quiet evening in. One step at a time, you walk towards what you consider to be the true point of no return in your relationship with Viktor. As such your pace is painfully slow, a detail Viktor’s sharp mind notices, but does not mind; slower is better for him, and slower allows him to bask in the comfort of your company a few calm moments more. You place your other hand at the crook of his elbow to cozy in further, to which he lets out a small sigh of contentment. Neither of you say much – you’ve spent quite a bit of time cooped up in Viktor’s small downtown apartment, amongst all the noise, and the stillness of your childhood home is not unwelcome. Love swirls around you, between you, an invisible plasma that cocoons you both – so thick and encompassing that you imagine that you might be able to reach out and touch it.

A few minutes later, after a slow trek up two flights of grand stairs, you arrive in front of the door of your childhood bedroom. With a small exhale, you open the door and lead Viktor in.

You both smile as you look around; despite living at the Heimerdinger Estate until Viktor’s recovery period, you hadn’t visited your old bedroom – for the past few years you’d stayed in one of the first-floor guest suites, which were more fitting for a grown adult than the twin bedroom painted with soft pastels.

Viktor strides through an archway, into the playroom that once adjoined his room and yours. You called it his lab many years ago, primarily because he’d taken over the space and filled it with rudimentary experiments from your shared tutelage as soon as he moved in. The room has been carefully and faithfully maintained – not a speck of dust covers a single book, and you are grateful for your father’s sentimentality and keen eye for preserving what is pure. You follow Viktor halfway into his ‘lab,’ diverting your path from where he limps towards a corkboard with equations still pinned to it and heading instead towards the corner of the room that you had forbidden his younger self from ever touching.

“You can be Dad’s prized pet and do all your sciencey extra credit everywhere else, but here,” you proclaimed. “I’m keeping this corner as my own sovereign land.”

“Sovereign space?” Thirteen-and-a-half-year-old Viktor scoffed, crossing his arms and fixing his amber gaze onto you. “It’s clutter!”

You glared at him, refusing to budge on this. “It may be,” you said defiantly, glancing back at your rolled up maps of faraway lands, and cringing at some of the unrolled parchments you’d left haphazardly draped over an old globe of Runeterra. (You ignored the pile of various traditional clothing you’d received as gifts from ambassadors; you had meant to hang them up earlier but simply forgot). “But it’s still mine and I should have some space to not do homework in.”

Viktor sighed, knowing that there are very few things he will adamantly refuse you on, and conceded.

You crouch down into a small squat, leaning towards one of the lower corners of an ornate bookshelf. Behind you, Viktor steps around the child’s-height workbench in the middle of the room, looming over it, and you look up briefly when you hear the carpet rustle beneath his footsteps. You smile, the sight of his current height hilarious when juxtaposed against the table that had been perfect for him at thirteen; you’re sorry to have missed his growth spurt while you were away.

“What are you looking for?” Viktor asks, knowing that you’re rooting around in an area of the bookshelf that he knows holds your many encyclopedias.

You don’t answer him, instead turning around to resume your efforts. You tug at a rather bloated tome and pull, hard, staggering backward in your squat before you find your balance. The encyclopedia comes loose, and you quickly snatch it up before the papers it hides fall out.

But Viktor can tell that there’s something strange about this book. He raises his thick eyebrows in a question, but you only give him a ghost of a smile before returning to the bedroom.

You sit on the bed, the encyclopedia clutched to your chest, and indicate for him to sit next to you.

“Please,” you ask gently. “Sit next to me.”

The solemnity in your voice gives Viktor pause, and he shakes his head in cautious disagreement. Alarm bells begin to ring in his brain, and his jaw clenches as he braces for bad news. He’s reminded of that bittersweet day, all those years ago, where you led him to your bed and he also prepared himself for bad news. At the time, your revelation had been wondrous – your admittance something completely contrary to the worst-case scenario he had built in his mind – but the day after had revealed an even more horrible situation that he hadn’t been able to imagine before your lips pressed to his at the tender age of sixteen. “I’d rather stand,” he says gruffly, and leans against a baby-blue desk that barely comes up to his hips. He rests his cane on the desk and crosses his arms, assuming the defensive pose out of concern for whatever you might show him next. Now he can sense the anxiety radiating from you, and it worries him immensely. What could that innocuous encyclopedia from the past possibly hold that requires this much intensity?

Engulfed in memories, your eyes pass over the soft sheets of the bed; your mind’s eye recalls the image of Viktor beneath your teenaged self, flushed and panting. You take a deep breath, chest rising upon inhale, and let the air exit heavily through your mouth. “Alright,” you cede, and slowly lower the book into your lap. Nervous fingers pull at the cover, and the book falls open easily to the worst bookmark Viktor has ever seen: a large envelope, stuffed full of papers – some yellowed with age, some looking newer – has been warping the hardcover for what appears to be years, judging by the curve of the encyclopedia. You pick up the envelope and walk over to him, then grasp his hands to curl them around the envelope.

“These are for you,” you whisper, lifting onto your toes to kiss him gently on the cheek. “They should have been yours all along.”

His eyes burn into yours, holding years’ worth of questions, but you push the envelope into his chest and smooth your hands over them across his chest before wordlessly retreating back to your seat on your old bed. You’re not sure you can stand, even though he prefers to.

Viktor respects your departure and reaches for the topmost folded sheet. He absently places the envelope on the desk as he begins to read this letter. Your eyes recognize it as one of your more recent ones, dated from a few weeks ago when you were agonizing by his hospital bed, Viktor unconscious. His brow furrows as he scans the written words. As he finishes the letter, he hurriedly picks up the stuffed envelope, this time rifling through the clumsily placed sheets all the way to the very back. Here, the papers are thin and severely yellowed. The dates scrawled atop them go backward in chronology, and with unsure fingers Viktor plucks out the first letter you’d ever written to him. This one is dated from a week that is seared into his memory; he calculates that this was written the day after that unlucky kiss, while you were on your way to your boarding school in Ionia – leaving him, without a word. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to suppress his rising tide of emotion – but nothing prepares him for what he is about to read.

Dearest Vik,

I’m on the bumpiest caravan ride to the port now, headed towards boarding school in Ionia as you’ve probably been told by now. I’m incredibly sorry for the mistake I made yesterday, and yet in some ways it wasn’t a mistake at all. Now I’m not sure which I am more sorry for; revealing my feelings to you in a display of brash emotion, or leaving without a word in panic right after.

I know I need to go – away is where I belong, it’s where I’ve dreamed of going, as you know. I hadn’t thought to leave so early. We always talked about studying abroad in university someday, right? But when Dad’s friend, the headmaster, mentioned that a new program was being founded, I applied on a whim and got in. I couldn’t tell you when I did because I was too scared of your wrath. Guess I knew how much it would hurt to hear that your best friend was leaving you. But I was too scared to see that in your beautiful eyes, so I never said a word until it was too late.

Yesterday I… I thought that I should at least try to say something before I left, to tell you the truth and come clean, because you deserved that and so much more. But my voice died in my throat when you knocked on my balcony door. My heart took over my impulses; then again I’ve never had good control of that. I should have told you I was applying; maybe then I wouldn’t have been so rash with my actions.

Still now I’m not so brave to say that you feel the same way that I do about you. That’s another thing I’ve hidden from you. I’ve loved you for a while after we first made that truce the first year you came to study with us – first as friends, then as we got a bit older, as something more. But our dreams are not compatible. We’d end up sacrificing ourselves for each other; you traveling with me and spending too much time away from iterating your inventions, me trying to fit into an academic world I belong to in name only. Even if you only reacted to me out of pure hormones yesterday, that’s enough for me to know you wanted me, even briefly. All I know is that I love you, Viktor, and you’re the person I care about most in this world.

You’re destined for great things, my friend. I’ll always be thinking about you and I hope you don’t hate me for this – I hope I fade away into a memory and never get in the way of your brilliant future. Share your mind with the world and achieve your dreams.

Your Sparrow

He lets out an involuntary gasp as he sees your declaration of love in your trademarked scrawl. His fingers smooth over the gilded borders of the paper – it is absolutely from the same notepad his anonymous (and yet so immediately knowable) letter for his Academy acceptance, and with this he realizes you’ve been writing letters to him since the day you left. You in the present fade into the background as he reads and reads, his mind pulling up memories he’d tried to forget.

Letter after letter flutters down to your tiny, painted desk as Viktor’s eyes flit back and forth across the scrawled lines and drops each finished sheet. To his shock, each of these letters are signed; the only one without ‘Your Sparrow’ inscribed is the not-so-anonymous letter he received upon Academy acceptance. Worse, that same letter is the only one titled ‘Dear Viktor;’ these, now, all refer to him as ‘Dearest Vik.’ While he was always a fast reader, and now ingests your words with a speed he never thought he was capable of, watching him uncover seventeen years of your secrets feels like time has been slowed to an impossible crawl. Every second stretches into what feels like forever, every dart of his amber eyes across a page an entire lifetime.

It takes him the greater part of two hours to read through all of them even at this breakneck speed, simply because there are so many. His leg must be screaming in protest by now, you think, but he didn’t hear your efforts to get him to sit, or your offer to draw him a chair. When you realized he would not emerge from his reading until he was finished, you sat quietly on the bed and fiddled with your own hands.

He alerts you to his completion when he lets out a heavy breath. You glance up, startled, and see him rubbing at his temple with one hand. His fingers run through his dark hair, curls flopping this way and that, and your heart jumps at the sight now that you are closely reacquainted with the feeling of his hair in your own hands.

Viktor pulls at his face with his hand, skin sagging as he drags his hand down past his chin and lets it drop back to the desk. He leans into the desk.

“Why did you never send these to me?” His voice is piercingly sharp, and his gaze follows suit.

You struggle to come up with a coherent response. Your mouth opens, then shuts. When you realize there are no satisfactory explanations, you go with the uncomfortable, messy truth of your mistakes and misconceptions.

“Vik, we were kids and I was thousands of miles away, what was going to happen? Nothing would have come of it anyway; it wouldn’t have changed the career path I chose and you wouldn’t have left your brilliant research behind for me. There was no point. Besides, over time I saw that you were shining as brightly as I knew you always would, and it made even less sense to send this pile of,” you shrug your shoulder in a halfhearted gesture towards the box of frayed parchment. “... of wishes. Of memories. Even when my will faltered and I thought I should send them.” You swallow thickly. “But now I know – they truly belong to you. I’m sorry I realized this so late.”

Viktor is silent for what feels like a small eternity; he stands and turns away from you to face the wall, but you can still see the sharp lines of his profile. His jaw tightens. You hone in on his face, trying desperately to interpret what the tension might mean. “All this time…” he murmurs so quietly you can barely hear him with straining ears. “All this time, wasted – nearly two decades orbiting each other and never knowing.” He shifts where he stands, swaying a little as his bum leg falters under his indecisiveness on whether to stay put or come to you. Heat rises to your face at his words as your brain begins to suspect that Viktor has loved you for as long as you have loved him.

Silence settles uncomfortably between you. On your balcony, wind chimes from your youth rustle in the breeze to remind you of that day, but everything else in your childhood room is dead still.

Then Viktor’s voice ventures into the thick quiet, his words coming out with the tremor of an unsure man. “Please come to me,” he almost whispers, still partially turned away from you. “I have lost what little strength I have left while under the weight of this realization, so I cannot approach you on my own legs.”

A gasping sob chokes out of your throat as you leap up from your seat on the bed – the springs creak under the sudden loss of adult human weight – and you bound towards him, pulled to him by the magnetism that has held him in your heart for years. You press your body to his with uncoordinated force; thankfully, muscle memory from supporting his weight countless times prior keeps you both locked in place.

But the way you shoulder his weight now is unlike any of those previous times; those were one arm under his, perhaps a hand on his waist, him leaning against you on one side or the other. This, now, is your arms fully around him, squeezing into the metal of his waist brace so hard that he still feels it beneath the bulk. This, now, is Viktor slowly raising his own, unsure arms to encircle them around your shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck and the scent of your hair is in his nose, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever even dreamed of during those lonely nights when he missed you most.

He coughs a little, and you can feel the vibrations from the rasping in his throat. You’re surprised to find the soft skin of his neck wet, and even more surprised to realize that it is so because of your tears. Viktor raises a hand to entangle itself in the hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him as he lets his own tears fall. He curses your ill-fated love, inwardly churning in anger at the shameful waste of so many years he could have spent loving you fully and being loved by you.

It is even more insulting, to him, to have been given this revelation right after his prognosis – but he retracts his curse to whatever deity will listen, thanking them instead that you do not yet know that his remaining days on Runeterra are limited.

“I love you,” you sob into the collar of his shirt, and he kisses your hair in response. This time when you say it, it feels almost as new and as revolutionary as when you admitted your feelings not weeks ago. “I always have.”

“And I, the same for you,” he whispers into your ear as he holds you close. With your warmth tucked into him, Viktor contemplates telling you about his prognosis, but refrains. He doesn’t want to die, he decides, he doesn’t want to accept his fate. Not when he has been given the privilege of hope restored.

He would find a solution, he silently promises to you. One that would let him live the next sixteen years of his life with you in it.viktor

[kimnjss]

keep going | jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: smut!! (and the start of angst at the end...)

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 4.8K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, oral sex (m/f. receiving), handjob, cum shot, face sitting, spitting, grinding, (half-assed) 69-ing, nipple play, groping, dry humping, they’re both half drunk nd messy.

⤑ A/N: hiiii! how are you? sooo ., i decided to make the party two parts bc i had terrible time management today nd it’s getting late - buut i really wanted to post today. sooo part two up tomorrow!!

MAY 8TH, 2020 | 23:30

Jungkook hears your squeal over the booming bass of the music, long before you're appearing through the crowd of drunk partygoers. Jimin is steps behind you, large black glasses resting on the tip of his nose. Eyes likely bloodshot underneath them obvious from the stumble in his walk. Your hair fans out behind you as you run, jumping with a shout onto your boyfriend. Who is more than ready to catch you. Hands splayed over the small of your back, while your legs wrap around his waist.

Giggling, even though nothing's really funny. Cold hands finding his cheeks as your hair creates a curtain on one side of his face. “My baby!” Speaking a bit too loud for how close you are, but he doesn't mind it. Especially since you're quick with covering his mouth with yours. The strong taste of alcohol hitting his tongue as if how drunk you were wasn't already obvious.

The kiss doesn't last long because you're being distracted by your thoughts, lips parting from his, you begin to bounce in his arms. Thighs brushing against his waist and the skirt of your dress riding up the swell of your ass. “Jimin said you got dressed up for me,” You're wearing this pretty smile on your face, cheeks tinted pink and he's not too convinced it's just from the alcohol.

He nods without a bit of hesitation because he had nothing to hide. Wouldn't even be stood here in this outfit if he didn't think you'd find him attractive in it. Another squeal is leaving your lips, legs leaving his body as you jump down out of his grasp. Taking a step back to fully take in his appearance.

“You look good enough to eat,” Moving in close to him, your arms lift to wrap around his neck. Tugging gently so his face is level with yours, the tip of his nose nudging against your cheek as you lean up to reach his ear. “We'll get to that later, though.” A gentle kiss pressed to the outside of it and you're sure you hear a moan leave his lips.

Not dwelling too much on the sound, you pull back, taking his hand in his, leading him into the kitchen where you swear you saw Jimin disappear. Probably in search of smoother drinks to accompany the numerous shots swimming in his stomach. Jimin was quite the drinker and a bit hard to keep up with, either way, you managed without falling over. That was definitely a plus.

Jungkook had been here an hour or two before you showed up. Found Taehyung in the crowd and Yoongi after that, the three of them spending time drinking and talking while he waited for you. Your friends were cool and he was enjoying the music and everything, but at the end of it, he was most looking forward to seeing you... even if he had been with you just the day before.

Shots were passed around and Yoongi had his mind set on getting absolutely trashed, him and everyone within a ten-foot radius. Which had him refilling every single empty glass in sight. Including Jungkook, despite the fact, he was on the far end of the couch. So yeah, not as drunk as you, but definitely heading in that direction.

Who cares, though? It was a party after all.

MAY 9TH, 2020 | 00:19

Sat up on the kitchen counter with Jungkook beside you, quietly sipping from his cup while you talk a mile a minute with the guys in the room. Taehyung has taken an interest in Jimin who has made it his entire business to play hard to get. The whole nine yards, honestly, not looking directly at him while he spoke, acting aloof when it was clear to any of your close friends that Tae was enjoying the undivided attention.

Yoongi had gone somewhere a good half hour ago, nothing but a brief mumble of his departure which was drowned out by the music. Hoseok was leaving a few moments after him, loudly declaring he wanted to go dance. Yet, you have yet to see the inevitable circle form around him.

That left Joon and Jin with you and Jungkook, the four of you laughing and talking loudly about something that you'd no doubt forget in the morning. Well, three of you... Jungkook only half listened, the rest of his attention on you. Hadn't taken his eyes off you since he was setting you down on the counter and it was getting a little hard to ignore his stare.

Jungkook was always obvious, hardly ever beat around the bush... especially when it had anything to do with you. So just one look in his direction and you could tell that he was undressing you with his eyes, playing a dirty movie in his mind where the two of you were the stars.

Normally, you'd tease him. Get him all riled up until he was whining, basically begging for some type of release. It was always fun to see how far you could push him, how much you could get away with before he was becoming a mess of himself. 

Strangely tonight, though, you didn't feel like teasing. Wanted him just as much as he wanted you, if not more. And with this liquid courage cruising through your veins, you didn't care if he knew it. You didn't care who knew it. Jin has sparked Joon's argumentative spirit, claiming he was right about something that Joon literally based his entire life on.

It's not often you get to see Joon get riled up, especially in the face of a stranger. But the oddly sexy vein popping out at the side of his neck is very low on your list of concerns. No, your focus is on Jungkook and how you can get him from this room to upstairs a little more private.

“Koo,” His head snaps in your direction in an instant at the sound of your voice, cloudy eyes taking in your outstretched arms. Instantly putting together that you were beckoning him toward you, he doesn't waste a moment to stand in front of you. Palms settling down against the tops of your thighs, the coldness of them forcing goosebumps to rise on your warm skin.

Long legs stretching out to wrap around his hips, pulling him closer. You always wanted him closer. Fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down closer to you. He kisses you immediately, hands wrapping around your thighs, using his grip to pull your body toward him. He's hard. Can feel it pressed right against your thigh, a curious hand dropping down his torso until you're able to reach him.

Jungkook flinches at the touch, hips jerking forward and teeth scraping against your lower lip. The subtle pain pulls a moan from your lips that's quickly muffled by the determined twist of his tongue. Hesitant fingers inch underneath the hem of your dress and then back down your thighs, up a little higher, and then back down. His fingers repeat their movement three times before you're pulling away from his lips.

“What are you doing?” Your words come out through a laugh, hands on either side of his face as you look down to watch his fingers on your skin. “I'm just checking...” All slurred and barely coherent, he's not looking at you instead he's tracking the movements of his fingers as if he was in the midst of creating a masterpiece on your legs.

You can't help the laugh that slips past your lips at his focus, fingers racking through his short hair. Pushing the fluffy strands out of the way so you can get a better peak at the look of concentration on his face. “Checking what?”

Dark eyes lift to find yours, teeth catching his lower lip as he searches your features. Looking for any hint that you were uncomfortable. That you wanted him to slow down. Something that you constantly caught him doing if the two of you were moving past a peck. It was sweet, nice of him to always be thinking of you. But it did make you feel fragile like you needed him to look out for you. Never did you like this feeling, but coming from him... it didn't feel so bad.

“How high up you'll let me go this time. Do you want me to stop?” There's a second question hidden in there. He wasn't just talking about his hands on his legs, but rather how far you were willing to go tonight. It's obvious because Jungkook was horrible at hiding what he was thinking, every thought written on his face at all times.

Which is why you're so quick to shake your head, using the hold you have around his waist to pull him further between his legs. His hardening length brushing against the crease of your thighs and you're humming at the feeling of warmth that spreads throughout your body. “Not yet. Keep going,”

That's all he needs to hear and it's like a switch has been flipped inside of him. Whatever restraint he had been using since you first jumped on him going out the window as his hands move higher up your legs, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. His teeth catch your skin, blunt nails dragging their way to your ass and all you're left to do is whine and moan underneath him.

A hand running down the front of his pastel-colored pants to cover his crotch. Fingers flexing around his bulge, shamelessly palming him through his pants in the middle of Yoongi's kitchen. He's letting out a breathy groan, head falling back as his hips move in motion with your hand.

He looks so hot, it's almost unbelievable. Eyes squeeze shut, with his lower lip tucked between his teeth. Thick neck on full display, you can't help but lean up and kiss it. Sucking open-mouthed kisses into his skin, while your hand moves over him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, loud enough for just you to hear. The sound sending a pang of arousal pooling between your legs. “I want to fuck you so bad,” It's a drunken confession that he's barely aware of, his focus on his hands squeezing your ass over the fabric of your dress.

Leaning back enough so your eyes catch his, he's looking at you with such desire and want. A look that you're no stranger to, but it definitely has you feeling a little less out of control tonight. Tilting your head up, you press a soft kiss to his lips, pulling back just before his tongue is able to slither past your lips. 

“Wanna go upstairs?”

MAY 9TH, 2020 | 00:57

Jungkook takes two steps toward you the moment Yoongi's bedroom door is secured shut. Hands on either side of your face, holding your head steady as he goes in for a kiss. A sloppy rushed kiss that pulls deep groans from his lips. Fingers curling in your hair while his hand drops low on your waist, pulling your body into his.

He's spent long enough holding on to restraint, not wanting to tip the scale in either direction in hopes to keep you from pulling back. Only going as far as you'd let him, but now you were giving him the green light for more. And although, he wasn't sure how much more you were willing to give... he was going to enjoy all he was able to take.

His mouth falls from yours, fingers moving toward the neckline of your dress. The same tiny dress you deemed too tight to wear anything underneath, besides the lace thong that does nothing but look pretty against your skin. With a fluid motion of his hands, your tits are spilling out the top of your dress, nipples peaking from the cool air circulating around the room.

His cock stiffens in his pants at the sight. Trying not to be obvious with the way the sight of your bare chest makes him drool. This was so far from being the first time he's seen boobs, but this was the first time he was seeing yours and that felt like the first time ever. He didn't know what to do with himself. Brain working overtime trying to figure out where to start. He wanted all of you, that much wasn't a secret. But he knew that he had to be careful, this was a privilege of course. A rarity. One wrong move and he fuck it all up for himself. 

The blank stare on his face does nothing for the pounding in your chest. Wishing that he'd just say something instead of staring the way he was. Not even looking directly at you. Did he think they were weird? Were you doing too much? Should you cover up?

Two strong hands wrap around your thighs, lifting your body off of the ground. Finally, finally looking up at you with those dark brown eyes of his. So easy to read, so filled with lust. For you. Long strides taken across the room and before you know it, your body is being surrounded by fluffy sheets and the smell of Yoongi.

“You're so perfect,” He sounds like he's in disbelief, shaking his head at his own words as he climbs onto the bed with you. Your head trapped on either side of his arms, hips pressed flush together. He fit so well between your legs.

Warm lips meet yours, tasting heavily of alcohol and his fruity lip balm. He's swallowing the moan that falls from your lips, tongue pushing against yours as his hips move in a slow rut. Kissing you breathless with his hand wrapped around one of your breasts, thumb flicking against your nipple. So easily pulling moans and whines from your lips with a simple flex of his muscles. “I can't believe I'm with you,” His words murmured against your lips, but your heart is standing at full attention, ready to swell in his favor.

Pulling back only to leave a trail of wet kisses down the length of his neck, mapping his way to your breasts. A breathy cry of his name falls from your lips when his teeth scrape against the hardened nub. Chuckling soft, his eyes lift to meet yours as he wraps his lips around it. Tongue moving just as it had been inside your mouth and you can't help but wonder how it'd feel in other places too.

Always ten steps ahead of you, Jungkook's hand outlines the curve of your breasts all the way down to the dip of your waist, passing your hips until the tips of his fingers catch the hem of your skirt.

He pulls off your chest with a pop, a thin line of spit connecting his lower lip to your skin. His tongue juts out to break it while his gaze lowers to watch himself reveal more and more of your skin with each movement of his hand. It's not long until your entire dress is bunched up at your waist, the maroon thong you had shimmied into on full display for his greedy eyes.

The growing wet patch between your legs is all he can seem to focus on. Jungkook startles you with his quickness, head dropping between your legs in an instant. Arms looping around your thighs to hold them apart, nose nudging against your covered clit as his tongue flattens against your slit.

“Holy fuck!” It's like someone has lit your entire body on fire. Back arched off the bed and toes pressed against the sheets. He's letting out a laugh, the prettiest sound you've ever heard paired with that toothy grin of his. Three gentle kisses are placed right on top where his tongue just had been.

Reaching down to find his soft head of hair, you gently drag his face up away from your sensitive pussy. His nose bumping against yours and his stiff cock resting just above your clit. Much harder than before and you can only guess why. Yet, despite his obvious arousal and his desperate want to continue, he's still able to compose himself enough to ask.

Pressing the softest of kisses to your lips, fingers pushing strands of your hair out of the way. “Keep going?” Silently hoping that you answer in his favor. Pretty much over the moon when you're nodding, hips lifting to meet his. It's his turn to curse, teeth cutting into his lip to keep from being too loud.

Kind of hard with the way you were grinding against him. Even through your useless panties, his boxers, and pants, he could feel you. How warm you were, wet too. So sure that his fingers would slip right in. How many would you actually be able to take? Just one? Two? Maybe three?

Had to be at least three if you expected to take his dick after. Never one to brag, but Jungkook was a decent size. Thick in the places that it mattered most, long enough to boost his confidence. Definitely took pride in the way your eyes would go wide when seeing it. Were you thinking about it too? Him fucking you.

“Yn, fuck.” He's hissing through clenched teeth, only now noticing the work you've done at the front of his pants. Buttons undone and fly wide open, your warm hand down the front of his briefs to fish out his throbbing length. It only grows harder in your soft grip, twitching at the brush of cool air.

It takes two of your small hands to cover him, the pink mushroom tip peaking out from your closed fists. Hands twisting in opposite directions and he doesn't even hesitate to fuck into the hole you've created. Eyes fluttering as breathy moans fall from his lips, heavy balls slapping against your covered pussy.

Jungkook's got a firm grip on your breast, the other hand clutching the bunched up fabric of your dress. Head bowed as he watches his cock disappear and reappear between your hands. He has no shame in the fact he's imagining it's you he's fucking. That he's being squeezed by the tightness of your walls. Imagining that you're reaching your limit too, instead of him selfishly getting his release. Every single time.

He loses it when you're sitting up, spitting into the palm of your hand to create a much wetter slip for his cock. Hands tightening around him and moving at a much faster pace. He's gasping and groaning, fucking forward as if he's buried inside of you. And you're close too, it makes him feel a lot better about the loud way he spills his load onto your stomach.

Warm and sticky against your clammy skin, you're lifting a hand off of him to dip your fingers into the mess. He watches the way you drag through it, bringing your index finger up to your mouth. “Oh, God.” He groans, earning a pretty giggle from you. His mouth is on yours again within an instant, fingers tangling in your hair as his tongue rolls around the inside of your mouth.

Tasting himself on your tongue and that just makes him want you more. “Please let me taste you.” His eyes still feel heavy and his body too, but that's the least bit of his concern. He wants to make you feel good. It's only fair, with the way you're constantly catering to him. You deserved it. “Please,”

Not even worried about sounding desperate or even whiny, he just wants you. He wants you to want him. And you do. Have wanted him since the first time you met him if you're honest. Tonight all of that was only amplified, a mixture of the alcohol and the realization of how quickly you had fallen for him.

Didn't even realize it was happening until it was done. Jungkook was quickly becoming it for you. Not a day went by where he wasn't on your mind, yearning to see him, to talk to him, to kiss him. Needy in ways that were nearly foreign to you. Always so good at keeping it together, but when it came to him you just couldn't.

And you didn't really want to either.

“Okay,” His face breaks into this huge smile and you can't help the laugh that falls from your lips. “Okay?” He has to check, make sure that he's hearing you right. And when the sound of your laugh fills his ears, followed by another confirmation he's almost ready to jump for joy.

Springing up, he's shrugging his shirt off. Wiping the drying cum from your stomach as a true gentleman would. Tossing the dirty fabric to the side, he's shifting to lay on his back before you're stopping him. “Take this one off too,” Reaching for the sleeve of his undershirt and he doesn't waste a moment before tugging it over his head and tossing it to the side.

He's moving to lay on his back before you're allowed the proper time to admire his well worked on chest. The ripples in his stomach that can only be accomplished with hours upon hours in the gym. His head lifts to find you sat up in the same spot, this quizzical look on his face which you return with a laugh.

“Come sit on my face,” He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, reaching out for your wrist, to gently drag you toward him. Your eyes are saucers, cheeks flushed at the thought of being sat up on him like that. “Why?” It's obvious to the both of you why, but you wait for his answer anyway.

His shoulders lift in a slight shrug, lips stretching into a slow sexy smile. “I've always wanted you to sit on my face,” He's so calm about it too as if he didn't just admit to the dirty secret thoughts that bounce around his head when the two of you are alone. You're so inclined to give this man whatever he wants that you don't bother to fight it anymore, simply lifting yourself up to stand over his head.

Taking in the way he's smiling up at you like a kid on Christmas, arms looped around your legs to help you lower yourself onto him. The tips of his fingers latch onto the waistband of your panties, tugging them far enough down your legs so he's getting a good look at your bare pussy.

Lips glistening with your arousal, slightly puffy from the bit of stimulation. There's a small patch a hair above it, trimmed into a neat triangle. Almost like an arrow saying: Jungkook's mouth goes here. And he's forever one to follow a sign. With his arms looped around your thighs, he's lowering you comfortably over him. He lands an open-mouthed kiss on your clit, using the grip he holds on your thighs to hold your body still.

Gasping, your hips jerk, body lunging forward to brace yourself on his stomach. “Fucking cute,” He murmurs into your pussy, head tilting to the side so his tongue can reach deeper inside of you. Paying close attention to the sounds of your whines to make sure that you're enjoying yourself just as much as he was.

Much sweeter than he had thought, arousal dripping down the sides of his lips. You've got a tight grip in his hair, hips moving in stuttered thrusts against his mouth. A hand pressed onto his stomach, nails scraping against the skin. He's cautious with introducing his fingers to the mix, teasing your hole slowly before he's pushing one in. Cock stiffening at the loud wail that leaves your lips, legs spreading wider for him.

It's never felt this good. Not when you're alone with your own hand down there. His is much longer, thicker. Reaching deeper inside than you ever could. With lips latched around your clit and a single finger fucking inside of you, Jungkook's pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven. The sounds of your moans being the welcome bell.

His tongue moving around your clit in quick circles and he swears he feels your walls clench around his fingers. So wound up, it's not long before you're nearing your end. And he takes the chance by pushing another finger alongside the first one, much tighter and harder to move but the sound that leaves your lips eggs him on.

“Shit, baby...” He pants against you, the warmth of your hand around his shaft making him lose focus. You stroke him lazily, barely able to keep your head up with the way he's making you feel. But you manage, tongue poking out to roll against the tip. His whines vibrate against your pussy and throughout your entire body, forcing an involuntary roll of your hips.

Fingers plunging deeper inside of you as his hips lift, cock brushing against your lips at the same time he's curling his fingers. Pressing against the rough patch that has you spiraling out of control, hips bucking against his face and grip tightening in his hair. “Jungkook, fuck! I'm...” Pretty much delirious at this point because he has no interest in letting up, determined to knock you over the edge if it's the last thing he does.

A string of curses leaves your lips. Sloppy kisses landing on his length, a failed attempt to muffle them. All at once you're feeling pressure build and snap in the pit of your stomach, a wave of heat washing over you. Your legs shake on either side of his head, loud cries of his name and incoherent sentences falling from your lips.

Jungkook holds you steady through all of it, the movement of his tongue slowly as you come down. Lips puckering to plant a gentle kiss to your lips, just as your body is falling limp against his. Slowly pulling his fingers from inside of you, he doesn't waste a moment with sucking your juices from them, humming contently at the taste.

“So sweet,”

Shifting in his hold, you move to sit on his lap. His nose, mouth, and chin are shiny with your arousal, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded, hair a knotted mess. He looks absolutely fucked out and it's so hot. Lowering yourself, your mouth is finding his, tongue plunging into his mouth as you lower your body. The tip of his cock nudging against your clit, forcing a moan from your lips.

All it would take is a certain angle of your hips and he'd be sinking inside of you. Stealing away your virginity with a single thrust of his hips. You wanted that so bad. With him. Only him. “Jungkook.” Sighing his name out, his cock twitches between your legs. And from the way his eyes go wide, you can tell he's just noticed how close you actually were. 

“I want you to fuck me. Please, Kookie,” There's slight whine in your voice, but you don't care how desperate you sound. You've never wanted something this bad. Felt it in your chest, your stomach, your core. You wanted him.

He doesn't say anything for a while, eyes scanning over your features for a little longer than you'd like. Before he's letting out a soft sigh, his hand reaching up to push his hair back on his head. Sitting up with you in his lap, his hand lifting to wipe at the wetness around his lips. “Fuck, princess. Not tonight. Not yet,” Two large hands set on your shoulders, he's offering up an apologetic smile.

A pout is already forming on your lips. You can't help it, your brows just seem to automatically furrow and your lip pushes out. “Why not?” His hand is lifting to pat your hair, head tilting up to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Because, when I fuck you... I'm gonna fuck you.” You'd think he was explaining the cuteness of puppies with the way he was looking at you. The tone he was using. “And you've been drinking. I need to make sure you remember every second,” His fingers rub against your scalp lightly before he's going in for another kiss.

Not even a moment is granted for the sting of rejection to settle in. The moment he's pulling away and gently nudging you off of his lap to redress, there's a loud knock on the door and you're becoming all too aware of the party that was still going on downstairs. A loud crash follows the knock and you can hear shouts from two very familiar voices.

And then another, much harder knock. Joon's voice sounding from the other side. Hurriedly explaining all the commotion going on downstairs. 

“Hoseok and Yoongi are fighting!”

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[sugalaritae]

starstruck pt.2

pairing: barista!Taehyung x female reader x unistudent!Yoongi

word count: 6.5k

summary: you first see him at the gym, a place that is both a safe and not-so-safe place. you’re used to gym bros staring at you but you’re not used to the way he stares at you. it’s easy for misunderstandings to happen and you’re eventually going to have to let some walls down.

rating/genre: 18+ fluff, (eventual) smut, angst, reader and yoongi are both queer as hell

banner: thanks to the lovely @introlxv​​ for this beautiful creation! ​

chapter warnings: mentions of fatphobia, masturbation (male), slight objectification (taehyung is a bit obsessed), yoongi is a dick but feels guilty about it, mentions of mental illness and suicide, lots of guilt, and three pov changes

author’s note: this chapter is just a little unedited so i apologize for any mistakes, i will edit it later when i have more energy. i wasn’t going to include the reader’s pov in this chapter but i decided i needed to or else this series is going to be like a million parts long. thank you everyone for your support of the first part. i hope you enjoy this next bit!! © sugalaritae, 2022. you do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost this.

_______________

TAEHYUNG

The first thing Taehyung noticed about you was your confidence.

The first time he saw you was four days before he flashes his smile at you.  He saw you as you walked down the stairs from the cardio machines. Your eyes were glued to your phone, sweat beading down your forehead, and your shirt sticking to your lower back. He watched you pass two guys lifting the free weights as you made you way over to the bench press, one nudged the other and he watched as they whispered about you, his neck went red, and his body got hot as he watched the disrespect. 

Quickly he turned to see if you had noticed but you were wiping everything down and mouthing the words to a song, completely oblivious to the shit going down only a few feet away. You acted as if the whole gym was yours and yours only, the two men fools. He didn't want to stop watching you, but he knew he had to in case you caught him and thought it was he who was mocking or disrespecting your presence. 

He wasn't someone who liked working out. He rarely did it, but he went the next day to try and see if you were there. You were not. 

"I don't know maybe she's going at a different time or maybe it's just not meant to be, I mean you only saw her once," he says, disheartened, his gaze on the small glass of beer in front of him. Beer isn't Taehyung's first choice of beverage, but it was this or tap water. 

"I think I've lost count of how many times I've fallen in lust at the gym," Jungkook says as he finishes his second can of beer and gives Taehyung a lopsided smile. "At least it's getting you to the gym," Jungkook teased. 

As he closed his eyes that night you walked across the screen of his mind. Your hips and ass in those leggings. The sports bra with the zipper on the front. He thought about slowly pulling the zip down and your breasts falling out. 

He pushed his hand beneath the band of his boxers and began to stroke his cock. His thumb slipped over the sensitive tip as he imagined it was your thumb, or better yet your tongue. He thought about you bending over and him slipping your leggings down until they were around your ankles. He thought about pushing into you and fucking you from behind, watching as your breasts moved with each thrust.  He thought about looking down and seeing your beautiful swollen red lips as he slid his cock along them. He thought about slapping your ass and later kissing the marks he had left here. He jerked himself off as he thought about you and your mouth that he had watched so carefully sing along with a song that seemed to be written only for your lips. This was the thought that he got caught on until he felt the pull and tension build up and release against his boxers. He cleaned himself up and set his alarm so he could get to the gym. 

By the third day he was ready to give up. He felt ridiculous and childish going to the gym only to see a woman who hadn't even noticed him. He thought about how stupid he was being when you walked up those stairs and walked to an elliptical only a few feet away from him. 

You looked beautiful in the white tank top. You looked tired but gorgeous. He wanted to smooth down the few hairs that hadn't been caught by your scrunchie. His eyes drifted to your ass as you bent down to pick up the bottle of cleaner. His gaze slipped along the words 'Ivy Park' and he made a mental note to thank Beyoncé for creating something that looked so absolutely wonderful on your body. 

He had slowed his pace on the machine as he had watched you and he realized that he needed to do something and make it less obvious that he was checking you out. In a panic, he got off the machine, stumbling a little, and forgetting to wipe down his machine. He grabbed his water bottle and walked past you. His heart went wild as he turned to you and smiled.

He turned quickly away from your gaze as guilt whispered in his ear reminding him that he had masturbated to you, a woman he had never met. 

Still, he waited to see you again. Wanted to see you again and the way you moved about the gym. How you dominated it. Except like youtube ads, his thoughts and excitement over seeing you again would get rudely interrupted with the thoughts of doubt and insecurity ringing loudly. Unable to skip through them. After about twenty minutes of this constant back and forth, Taehyung gave up. He pushed himself off the bench and grabbed his towel and water bottle and walked out of the gym just as you were walking down the stairs. 

a long shower. the switch of hot to cold water as his body reacted in a way that he didn't want. your face popping into his mind. your ass a perfect picture hung in the gallery. he washed his body trying to ignore all the thoughts and his body's reaction. standing under the cold water desperate for it to cool him off. perhaps, if he got cold enough his brain would just turn off temporarily until he was out of the gym and back home. he felt like a stupid teenager again, unable to control his erections. if he told any of his friends, they would not let him live it down. he was unsure if his own brain would let him live it down. 

Despite everything he managed to dress and pack up all his things. He wondered if he would catch a glimpse of you working out when he passed the glass doors on his way out of the building when instead the two of you collided. His eyes went wide, his eyebrows high as he caught you and his palms felt hot against your body.

he was holding you. 

Sure, maybe it is your shoulders that he caught in his grasp and not your hips like he would hope but it was something right? His insecurities said no. He looked like an idiot just holding your shoulders. 

Except your hands.

Your hands are pressed to his chest. 

He swallows, his face still has concern written on despite his insecurities and the sudden shiver at the realization that your hands are pressed to his body.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm not sure I want to see it. is it...?" your question gives him pause and for a moment, a frown crosses his face before he realizes what you're talking about.

Your phone!

He heard it hit the ground when your bodies crashed together.  His face relaxes and he tries his best to hide the smile that crosses his face as he separates himself from you and walks over to where the phone is laying upside down on the ground. He fails at hiding his amusement and a chuckle slips out of him. He's convinced you're going to think he's a total asshole now that you've heard him laugh at you. 

He swallows as he picks up the bare phone. No case. Jungkook never uses a case either and he never understands it. It isn't like the guy can afford another phone or like he has enough money to replace the screen or back glass if it falls out of his hand. He can hear Jungkook's voice telling him to ask you for your phone number.

Jungkook would probably use a stupid pickup line like, well, now I've saved your phone least you can do is give me your number in case you drop it again. that has never been Taehyung's style; and yet, he thinks, that line isn't bad. 

He looks at your phone as he picks it up and smiles as he examines it. A few scratches but nothing horrible or noticeable. Maybe those scratches were there before. It's obvious you like playing chance with no case on your phone. 

He turns over the phone to examine the screen and presses the power button on the side. His heart drops a little as he sees the name YOONGI on your screen asking you for coffee. Out for coffee? He's not sure but still, his heart drops a little and he forces a smile. 

"You must be really lucky," he says as he looks at you. This is the first time that he's able to really look at you. You’re sweating and he releases a breath at the same time as you do, which makes him chuckle.

"Thank you," you say, and he hates how nice your voice sounds. 

He thinks about all the things he could say. The line about the phone but if this Yoongi is your boyfriend then he's going to look like a fool. This is why he doesn't use pickup lines. He's not willing to be embarrassed at a place that he kind of likes going to, though really the only reason he's been going is because he's been hoping to see you.

"Boyfriend?" he asks without even thinking about it. The question slips out and he wants to disappear. Why the hell is it any of his business?

"What?" you ask, and he could say never mind. Could tell you that it was a mistake and that he hopes you have a good day and just leave it that, hope for another interaction the next time you're both at the gym at the same time, but instead he asks,"The name, boyfriend?" this is a mistake. His brain is screaming at him telling him to just leave. this is ridiculous.

"No," you answer. 

It's not ridiculous. There's hope. Yoongi isn't your boyfriend. A friend, he's got to just be a friend. 

"Good," he says intending for that to be said in his head, but he hears his voice, and he nods at the complete embarrassment of it. He can feel his neck going red.

"I hope to see you around," he says because he needs to leave and so he does.

Just leaves without a goodbye, without wishing you a good day. That's it. That's the last thing he says, and he closes his eyes as soon as he reaches the top of the stairs. His phone beeps and he sighs. great. He's got a seven-hour shift in front of him where he can mull over this in his head, he's written an entire book to add to his bookshelf of embarrassing moments. 

_______________

YOONGI

He stares at the back of her head, her blonde hair is tangled under her arm, and he thinks about fixing it, even raises his hand to move it but stops as soon as he realizes that if he does then she's going to wake up and he's not entirely ready to deal with her just yet. 

The evening wasn't horrible. He had planned on ending it with her, telling her that it wasn't going to work out and that he needed to spend some time alone since his breakup wasn't too long ago (which wasn't exactly a lie), but then she showed up in a skirt that showed so much leg and he saw a tattoo peak out from under the white material and thought of seeing it and nothing more for the entire dinner. His dick was going to get to get him in trouble one of these days. 

Instead of waking her up he rolls over and glances around his room for a moment, clothes everywhere, that stupid fucking skirt laying on top of his shirt. He groans and his gaze moves to the nightstand. Careful as to not knockdown the pile of books he has on it, he grabs his phone on the top of the pile and winces as the bright light hits him. 

The warning that his battery is about to die pops up and he hits ignore, immediately turning down the brightness before he opens his text messages and clicks on your name. 

Yoongi [7:15]: coffee? 

He knows you're at the gym. He's happy you've found a routine that makes you happy. He watched you go down a slightly destructive road in the last year since your breakup with the asshole Jimin.

He hadn't liked the guy, but he kept his mouth shut. There was something about the guys who were too nice that rubbed him the wrong way. 

"Hmmm" her soft moan hits him and he tenses at the sound. rolling completely on his side he blindly searches for his phone cord.  Just as he finds it and plugs it in, he feels her hands on his back. His back tenses at the freezing temperature of her hands which seems impossible since she either had them tucked under him all night or under her head. 

"Good morning," she greets him with a kiss on his shoulder and he sighs.

"Morning," he says trying to keep his tone even. He should have ended it the night before like he was planning. now he must do it just as she starts her day.

"I had a good time last night," she says softly, her lips brushing against his skin.

 He feels her hand slip over his arm before he sees it in the corner of his eye, black nails pressing into his skin before she begins to drag her hand further down. He wraps his hand around her wrist before she gets to her destination.

"Sorry, I don't have time. I'm having breakfast with a friend," he says and draws a small circle on her wrist with his thumb before he releases her hand and watches as she retreats back against the bed and away from him. 

He sighs. It was never easy to tell someone that he was uninterested in them, even though he knew full well that it was his own doing. He had led her own, just like he had with the others. He needed to start explaining to people what he was looking for instead of finding people on dating apps who were looking for something deeper. 

He needed to stop letting his dick control who he fucked and start using his brain. 

"I really hate to do this first thing in the morning but I don't know if we should keep seeing each other," he says as he shifted to the edge of the bed and sat up.

"Really?" he hears her spit out, her tone frustrated.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes and hoped that this interaction would end quickly. 

There's a silence. He feels the bed shift and knows she's getting up off it. He knows that she's getting herself dressed. His phone dings and he picks it up to look at it. Your text agreeing to coffee but asking for a ride. He smiles, he always puts up a fight when you ask for a ride. The car was supposed to be for emergencies only but he's happy to use it when you ask for a ride. 

Or when he's too lazy or is late for something.

He can hear Lia stumble around and without looking up from his phone he points to the skirt that she is looking for. He doesn't want to look at her as he knows she's glaring at him, and he doesn't want to feel worse for what he's done.

"Thanks for the orgasm, I guess," she snaps, and he hears the hurt in her voice and his shoulder slump forward.

He keeps his eyes fixed on the phone.

"Have a good day," he mumbles before the door is slammed and he can hear Jin's voice greet her for a moment before he hears the front door open and shut. He should have called her an uber or something. 

"She didn't even let me make her breakfast," Jin says through the door and Yoongi sighs.

He's tired of the reputation he has among his friends. He just doesn't know how to figure everything out and how to handle what goes on in his head and to be quite honest he's a little embarrassed by how often his dick thinks for him. He's been told that he's smart, witty, and talented, but then at the end of the day his dick convinces him it's better for him to fuck the pretty girl than get to know her. 

The worst part of it all is that he knows you're going to be disappointed in him and he hates when you look at him with that face. The face that tells him he's fucked up. It's happened too many times and every single time it feels like a slash in his chest. Another little opening that will bleed for a few moments before it closes and leaves a scar to remind him of every single fuck up. 

Yoongi [7:23]: I'm picking you up in 15.

You [7:23]: I'm going to look a mess

Yoongi [7:24]: Don’t care. 

He doesn't care. He's seen you without makeup on, in clothes that you feel too self-conscious to wear outside, and he's watched you move about your apartment like no one else is there and it's always a beautiful sight to behold. 

Yoongi pushes himself up off the bed and over to his dresser where he pulls a clean pair of boxer briefs, ones with little rainbows all over them (a stocking stuffer from last year that you swore wasn't from you because "it would be weird to buy my best friend underwear") and pulls them on just as Jin opens the door. He leans against the door frame, wearing a bright blue pajama set and a cereal bowl in hand. 

"She seemed angry," he greets you with a mouthful of whatever frosted monstrosity he's eating this time.

"St least she thanked me for the orgasms," Yoongi replies, his voice deep and his tone showing just a bit too much of the disappointment he has in himself.

"A positive!" Jin laughs and watches as Yoongi picks up the pair of jeans from the floor and slips into them with ease. "Class?" Jin asks and Yoongi shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm going to pick up ____ and have coffee," he answers as he walks over to the closet and snaps a shirt off one of the hangers ignoring as it swings on the rod and falls into the basket of dirty clothes below. "Tell her that she owes me 20 for the bet from last night," Jin says as he takes another bite of cereal and leaves for his own room.

"Have a good day, Hyung!" Yoongi calls back and receives a small mumble before he hears another door shut. 

The drive to the centre isn't too long but it's colder out than Yoongi thought and his long sleeve shirt and army jacket are not warm enough. The car takes too long to warm up, but he knows that you're not going to be ready in the amount of time that he gave you, so he hopes that the car will warm up by the time that you get out of the gym. 

You're not there waiting on the steps leading up to the centre and he puts the car in park, a spot that's technically not an official parking spot but if anyone complains he'll move the car. 

He pulls his phone out and starts to flip through his emails. His shoulders slumped. He sighs as he reads that the study group is meeting in the afternoon. He had always promised that he would keep things separate but then he had fallen in love with her, and it had been so great until a few months ago when everything came to a screeching halt, and she asked more than he was ready to give. He hadn't been back to the study group because he knew she was going to be there, but he needed to go, Namjoon still had his notes from seminar and he needed those. 

He's thankful that you tap on his window and break him out of the prison of self-pity that he's started to build in his mind. 

"Good work out?" he asks, his chest filling with happiness just at the sight of you. your shampoo overwhelms his senses, and he takes a moment to settle in it as you push your backpack between the seats.

"You rushed me if I look sweaty it's because I showered and got dressed in a hurry!" you say expecting him to say something about your appearance, which he thinks is absolutely ridiculous because he's just happy you're here and he loves when you're barefaced.

"I didn't have any time to actually put on makeup or look presentable," you shoot and just as he's pulling out of the spot you're shifting between the seats, and he looks briefly to watch your body twist around so you can reach for something in your backpack.

He loves watching your hips like this. He smiles as his gaze slithers up your body. "You look beautiful," he lets slip out in a mumble and he wonders for a moment if you're able to hear the compliment but when you hit his shoulder his smile grows, and he knows that you have. 

"Have a good night last night?" you ask, and he looks at you briefly before he looks at the road.

He loves how comfortable you are in his car as if you have part ownership over it. He doesn't love that you've brought up the night before, knowing that you're wanting details about how everything went with Lia.

"Yeah, it wasn't too bad. She was less annoying this time," he replies and looks straight at the road. If he looks at the road and not at you then maybe he can get away with not answering any other questions about how he had to hurt someone's feelings before they had breakfast or coffee.

"If you don't like her, don't go out with her," he hears you reply, and he holds in a little sigh as he thinks about the inevitable conversation that is going to ensue after this sentence leaves your mouth. The words adding to the guilt that already has filled the car like exhaust. 

He wants to say that he's sorry he keeps letting his dick win over his brain and that he's not proud of it. instead, he says, "it's nice to have someone to share a bed with," and he shrugs.

The shrug is the mistake. 

The silence is deafening. The guilt feels like it's going to choke him, and he feels the frustration begin to build up in him. He's not angry with you but himself. He's frustrated that you had to bring Lia up. Frustrated that you had to be interested in what he did with his night, which he knows is a dick thing to be frustrated with. He should be happy and thankful that you love him enough to be curious and that you're genuinely interested in his life. 

"I know you want to say something but it's seven in the fucking morning," the swear is a bit much he knows, but it's too late now. "can you give me until i have at least two cups of coffee?" His tone is softer than when he started, and he hopes that you'll forget about the whole thing by the time you both have had two cups of coffee. Maybe, he thinks, he'll drink them slowly.

He sees you nod, and he nods, "thank you," he says softly. 

The drive continues and he's happy for the silence even though he also would love for you to talk, to tell him about your work out, or if you have classes to go to.

He wants to tell you about how he must see her again after so long and he wants you to comfort him and tell him that he doesn't have to go, that he could just contact Namjoon and get together with him separately so that he could get his notes back. he holds off though, enjoying the silence and he makes a mental note to bring it up when you're at the cafe. 

"Wait!" your voice cuts the silence, and he stiffens just a little. "Was she in bed with you when you texted me?" Not the question that he was hoping you would ask.

"It wasn't like i was going to have breakfast with her," he says as he lets himself fall in on himself as the guilt slips back in around him from the backseat where it has been quietly building.

"Seriously? Yoongi," that's the tone of voice that he didn't want you to take and knew you would as soon as you found out. 

He wants to change the subject, wants this to be over and wants to just tell you that you don't have to scold him because he's mentally self-flagellating himself as you speak. 

"Trin!" he responds hoping the nickname will ease your anger just a little.

"What is it with men and your intense need to prove that you actually conform to the patriarchy," you mumble and he's not sure how he's supposed to respond.

The two of you have had debates about artists and the misogyny in the art and music world, and he knows you're right about so many things. There are things he doesn't know and doesn't notice. Things that are in your face every single day.

“We..." he starts and when you cut him off, he's thankful because he's not entirely sure how he was going to finish that sentence.

"You're better than all that, Yoongi." you say the words that his guilt has been telling him all morning and he winces just a little as the words are spoken out loud and not just in his head.

"I don't know if i can continue to keep my mouth shut about all this shit or keep spending time with you if you keep disrespecting women, even women you deem annoying," your tone tells him you're not lying but it seems hilarious to him that you would end your friendship over something like this. Over someone like Lia. "Right," he chuckles because he doesn't believe you.

"I'm serious," you shoot back and his heart drops in his chest.

He looks at you and sees it in your face, you're serious. You're absolutely serious. You would end everything the two of you have. The guilt builds around him thicker now and he begins to panic just a little. He can't live without you. He has made it through so many difficult moments because you've been there. He has other friends that he could go to but it's always you that he wants in the good and the bad times. You're the one that he thinks about first thing in the morning and usually the last person he thinks of at night even when someone is resting on his chest. 

He doesn't know what to do or say. slowly he peels his hand off the steering wheel and settles it down on your knee. He needs to know that you're there with him now. He needs to remind himself that there is something to lose if he keeps doing this. He can live with losing faith in himself or feeling disappointed in himself, but he cannot live with losing you. 

He gives your knee a little squeeze and lets out small sigh.

He's thankful for the red light and he presses lightly on the break until the car is stopped and then he looks at you because he needs to.

"I promise I will treat them better," he says and gives your knee another squeezes as if he's signing a document with his promise.

"Good," your voice is a whisper, and it hits him square in his chest.

Your skin is beautiful in the soft morning fall light. He wants to close his eyes as you slip a hand into his hair. The feel of your fingertips and nails against his scalp fills him with more happiness than the previous night of constant touching did.

"Anything for you," he says trying to hide the seriousness of his words with a small smirk. He would do anything for you, and it scares him a little. "For them, Yoongi" you correct, and he nods. He knows you're right but it's for you. It will always be for you. 

He moves his hand from your knee, his palm feeling empty until he fills it with his phone, and he goes to the playlist that he's made with your favourite songs and presses play.

He smiles at you as you give his neck a little squeeze and presses the gas. 

_________

YOU

The cafe is a new cafe that you've talked about wanting to try out for a while now. It's been around for almost half a year now and you have kept telling Yoongi that you've wanted to go to it but there are other places, places that you're more comfortable with, that you go to instead. Always putting the trip off. 

It's a little out of the way. Not near your or Yoongi's homes or the university, so it's an actual little car ride to get there. 

You don't want to think about what you must do that day. The work that you have to do. You just want to catch up with Yoongi and you hope that he doesn't have any classes that need to be attended. What sounds perfect to you is just sitting in the cafe, talking, and working on your own things. You like being in his presence and you've missed him, which seems ridiculous since you just saw him a few days ago but there it sits on your chest. 

"Do you have classes?" you ask as he pulls into the parking lot behind the building.

"I have study group," he answers, and you look at him surprised that he's mentioning it. he hasn't gone to one of those since his breakup.

"Are you going to go?" you ask, your surprise showing a bit too much in your tone.

"I don't know," he smiles with a small chuckle obviously amused by your tone but adds a shrug.

"i was thinking of skipping and was wondering if you just want to hang out here all day and do some work," you smile as you unbuckle the seat belt and open the door.

"If they have food, I'm in," he agrees with a smile that shows his gums and you take a deep breath, happy that you get to spend your day with your favourite person. 

The two of you gather your backpacks and things that you'll need for the day, and you slip the backpack over your shoulders. The trees are beautiful with their changing leaves, and you look at him as he walks beside you. 

His tangerine hair is pushed back off his face, his long earrings bouncing with each step he takes. For the first time this morning you notice just how sad he looks, and you sigh.

You meant your threat. You don't like knowing that he's using women to get over her and to forget about things. You know that you would hurt if you had to stop being friends with him, but you wonder just how long it would last. You're not sure if you would be able to stop being friends with him entirely. He's an integral part of your life and you feel a bit like if you didn't have him, you wouldn't have anyone.

 "What?" he asks his forehead wrinkling in the question.

"Nothing. I just love you," you say with a little smile, your tone light. He nods and gives you a little hip bump. He rarely says it back and you're okay with that. 

He holds the door open for you as you get to the cafe, and you smile at him before you look around the cafe. 

Plants soak up the rising sun on the windowsills behind the booths. The bar is set up in the back and you see two baristas behind the espresso machine talking and laughing about something. The place is open and very empty given the time of the day. 

"Where do you want to sit?" you ask knowing full well what his answer is going to be. 

Yoongi points the booth where two walls meet. It's always his safe place, in the back booth or in corners. Something you love about him, and you have learned that there is something comforting and welcome about these tables. 

The two of you pass the pastry case and you can hear the croissants calling your name. You look at Yoongi as if to ask him which seat, he wants and he gives you a little nod giving you permission to take the booth seat and you smile.

"I'll switch you in an hour or two," you promise him as you take your backpack and jacket off and set them down on the booth, fish out your wallet from the front pocket, and turn to the menu that is written on the wall behind the bar.

"What do you want?" you ask, "my treat," and you shoot him a look before he can object. 

He turns and stands beside you, his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. You can smell his cologne or deodorant and for a moment you're very happy that you can't smell Lia on him. 

"Iced Americano," he answers (you should have known) and he turns to his backpack and begins to fiddle with a few things as you make your way to the counter where they have the small iPad set up. 

"Good morning," the barista greets you and you turn your gaze from the menu to the pretty brunette behind the counter. "Good morning," you say with a polite smile.

"What can i get you?" 

You give them your order, ordering two croissants knowing that Yoongi is going to want one too. you open your wallet to grab your credit card when you hear a familiar voice.

"Hey!" 

Your head snaps up, confused by who is greeting you, and there he is. The guy from the gym standing behind the counter right beside the pretty brunette. He has a denim apron tied around his waist; his hands stuffed into the two front pockets. 

"Hi!" you say forgetting about what you thought of him back at the gym as you watched him jog up the stairs.

He looks softer in this light. comfortable in this place and you wonder, for a moment, if you've read him wrong. 

He turns toward the bar to prepare your drinks.

"Can I get a name for that order?" the brunette asks you and you give them your name. 

You see him smile and nod at the sound of your name and you feel your skin get hot. You pay and are about to return to Yoongi to wait for your order when you hear his voice again. 

"I've never seen you here before," he says, his voice deeper than you remember.

The smile he's giving you makes your chest feel full. 

You turn to him and take a step toward where he's standing. the bar and espresso machine standing between the two of you.

"I've never been but I've wanted to check it out for a while now," you say trying to hide the nerves that have suddenly made themselves known. "It's really nice. i love how much light you get in here," you say and tear your gaze away from him and toward the windows.

"That’s why I applied here," he explains. "What are you working on today?" he asks as you watch his gaze drift over to where Yoongi is sitting, hunched over his phone again.

"Art history essay," you answer.

"Cool!" his face lights up, "what about?" he asks.

"Uh, I'm not sure yet but i think I'm going to try and write about why certain paintings of Van Gogh's are so appealing to the live, laugh, love crowd and why they ignore the harder more personal work of his," you explain, nervous about saying the idea you've been mulling over in your head out loud for the first time.

You watch as his smile gets bigger (was that possible?) and his eyes go wide with excitement, "that sounds amazing," he says excitement filling his tone. 

He's working while he's listening to you, his hands gripping the tamper and tamping down the espresso, locking the portafilters into place and pressing the buttons, multitasking as he pours the milk and begins to steam. His gaze drifting between you and the timer on the machine.

"You mean like those traveling Van Gogh exhibits and how they only show certain pieces of his work?" he asks, and you get the confirmation you needed that you read him wrong.

"Yes! and how people don't want to address how his mental illness is so visible in his work," you say, the excitement building. you love talking about this and it's made even better with how he's reacting to your words.

"Are you taking classes?" you ask.

He shakes his head as you watch him pour a small amount of milk into the espresso and swirl the cup for a moment. his fingers nearly touching the rim of the large latte glass. "I've put my degree on hold for a bit," he answers as he pours a beautiful white swan into the drink. "latte," he says with a smile as he sets the cup carefully on its plate and slides it across the bar for you. 

You watch him turn, your gaze slipping to his ass as he bends over to get the ice for Yoongi's drink, and you snap your gaze back up as he turns back around.

"I hope to hear more about your essay," he says as he finishes Yoongi's drink and gives you a very happy smile.

"I'll order more" you say, and you carefully carry your drinks to the table and slide into your seat.

"Good conversation?" Yoongi asks as he looks up at you with an arched eyebrow.

"Oh!" you realize you've forgotten the croissants and you start to slide back out of the booth, albeit a little awkwardly, when he walks over with the two pastries on a plate and sets it down on the table.

"Enjoy," he says and smiles at both you and Yoongi before disappearing back behind the bar. "He's cute," Yoongi mumbles as he tears off a piece of pastry.

"Very," you say as you look down at the swan in your latte and smile. 

You miss the way that Yoongi frowns. 

previous || next

[chosonore]

part three | epiphany

epiphany [noun. a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand, or suddenly become conscious of, something that is very important to you ]

pairing: kamo noritoshi/f!reader

summary: your relationship with noritoshi was like a game of cat and mouse; no matter how hard you tried to escape from him, he would always find his way back to you.  

wordcount: 9.1k

content/warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, language, angst, smut!!!!, dom!noritoshi, noritoshi is mean, oral sex, fingering, begging, edging, biting? (he gives u a bite like once), dry humping, riding, lowercase intended [UNEDITED]

a/n: i... will not comment on this. lmfao i can’t believe i wrote all of this filth. please have mercy on me, this is the first time i’ve every written smut and i’m not really good at it fhuewhiu (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) i think this is the angstiest chapter by far but i promise, no more from the next chapter on! i hope you enjoy (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ will also add the series playlist to the masterpost so check it out if you wanna!

previous - masterlist - next

noritoshi watched as you angrily stormed out of the room, slamming the door forcefully. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. now you've gone and done it. the words came out harsh and hurtful, force of habit deeply engraved into his brain. never was it his intention to hurt you so deeply, to push you away. but it was the only way to protect you from his family. noritoshi was well aware that he was a mere pawn in the stupid game that the clans were playing. he was the golden child, only accepted into the family because of his cursed technique. the cruelty he experienced was something he would never forget. he seeked revenge, for his mother and himself. but this was his own problem to handle, not wanting to drag his mother or you into this mess. 

for years, noritoshi had suffered quietly, his only motivation being the protection of his mother and you. rarely did he ever show any emotion, nor did he know many to begin with - but he knew he loved you. his suppressed adoration brought out ugly facettes of his personality: jealousy, frustration, anger. if his family ever caught wind of how much he loved and cherished you, it'd be the end for the both of you. he didn't doubt that they'd already arranged a partner for him to marry. noritoshi hated how they held onto traditions that had no place in this time any more. how they still engaged in these petty clan fights when now it was most crucial to stick together. he swore to himself, as soon as he would become clan head, everything was going to change. but until then, he had to get through this.

how much longer he could deal with this, he wasn't sure. it did bother him that you got so much attention from everyone else; it irked him even more to see that you flirted back sometimes, completely unaware of the effect you had on them. his heart yearned to be yours. as much as he didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't help but indulge. noritoshi still felt your lips on his, your smooth skin, how pliable you were in his arms and how you gave in, into him. was it unfair of him? he supposed so. if he ever got the chance to explain the entire issue to you, he would have to beg for your forgiveness, undoubtedly.

summer rolled around faster than you’d anticipated - it meant that you could finally get some room to breathe and just do nothing for a while. the third years had graduated a week prior, making you feel a little sad and wistful. you’d miss todo a lot now that he left the school but made him promise that he would drop by whenever possible. noritoshi however- you hadn’t spoken a word to him ever since that incident. it was frosty between the two of you, even the teachers had noticed and tried to not let you close to each other. while you hadn’t thought about him in a while, sometimes the thoughts were creeping up on you. some type of closure would have left you feel more at ease but having talked to your mum about the issue, it helped you move on. regardless of how he had made you feel, you would live your life for yourself now.

summer break was long and you didn’t have anything in particular planned - the two main events were your summer vacation with miwa as well as your training camp at tokyo tech. the spring tournament also had its good sides, you guessed, you were able to ask shoko and gojo to teach you over the summer. having witnessed shoko’s healing abilities first hand, you were hellbent to become as good as her. never again would you feel anxious and useless about your skills, you would become an excellent on field healer. you were looking forward to spending time with everyone there as well, especially since yuta was coming home for the summer break. you couldn’t shake the little crush you had on him, it creeped up on you whenever you talked on the phone or texted each other. subconsciously, you hoped that something would bloom out of it but hope was a fickle thing that could quickly turn into misery.

before you left for tokyo, you decided to visit your parents at the kamo estate, hoping that you wouldn’t run into noritoshi on your way there. as far as you knew, he was busy on missions, rarely ever coming home. you greeted the guard at the front entrance, making your way to your family’s little house near the outskirts of the estate. despite the uncomfortable atmosphere that was surrounding the entire estate, you still couldn’t help but fall in love with the gardens and sculptures over and over again. you couldn’t lie, growing up here was wonderful. deciding to make a little detour to the koi pond, you skipped towards the arch bridge. below you, the fish were happily swimming around, glimmering in all kinds of colours. you peered at them, leaning against the railing. as a child, you always liked to dip your feet into the water on hot summer days, promptly earning a disapproving glare from your mum. you always ignored her though, claiming that she couldn’t stop you from getting some kind of refreshment.

as you watched the koi and took in your surroundings, footsteps made you halt in your musings. one of the kamo elders must have gone on a stroll around the gardens; you whirled around to greet the person. your throat grew dry and constricted when you saw noritoshi walking towards you, looking so casual and carefree in his loosely tied yukata. should you greet him? after all, this place was his in some way. but your friendship (could you even call it friendship?) ended on a bad note, did you really owe it to him? neither of you made a sound until he stood next to you, leaning against the railing. you tried your best not to look at him and focused on the pond below you, staring so intensely that you thought you might have lasered some holes in the surface beneath you.

how much longer would you stand here? could you just leave? but then, wouldn’t it be even more awkward? not that you cared anyways. you hadn’t talked to each other in months. as you pushed away from the railing, noritoshi cleared his voice and turned his body towards you. 

“y/n.”

you froze in your steps, looking at him like a deer in headlights. behind you, the wind was rustling up the leaves, adding to the tense and awkward atmosphere. you tried not to scream at him in frustration - it would only end up in yet another fight. yet, noritoshi looked strangely vulnerable in this state, seemingly not knowing what to say to you either. it appeared he simply spoke to you without considering how to further the conversation. he looked like he wanted to reach out to you but simply didn’t know how. you couldn’t fall for this - it had happened before.

“how have you been? i heard you’re going to tokyo tech for training,” he started after a moment of hesitation and gave you a wry smile. huh? you were confused. why was he asking you about this now? it was because of megumi and yuta, wasn’t it.

“it’s… it’s none of your business,” you said with a strained voice. even though you felt uncomfortable with his presence around you, you couldn’t take a step away from him. perhaps you were hoping for an explanation from his side. perhaps you were just relieved to see he was okay, after all the missions he’d already been sent on. “i don’t see how i owe you an answer after… everything that happened between us.”

noritoshi stayed silent, balling up his fists. “you’re right. i’m sorry,” he mumbled, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his yukata embarrassed. “i… i want to explain myself. at least as much as i can tell you and if you’re okay with it. can we move it somewhere more private? i don’t want any of the elders seeing us.”

you hesitated. on one hand, noritoshi sounded sincere but your history spoke for itself. and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. like a moth to flames, you were always drawn to him. like the center of your universe, everything revolved around him. curiosity got the better of you, nodding before you could stop yourself. noritoshi let out a sigh in relief, stepping towards a more secluded area on the estate, one that you were very familiar with. as children, you used to spend time there a lot, hidden from your parents eyes and without any care in the world. the little corner was surrounded by tall cherry trees, adorned with smaller bushes and a little bench underneath the tree crowns. as noritoshi made his way there, he glanced behind him, making sure that you wouldn’t just leave him and vanish. true to your word, however, you trudged behind him and kept your distance. not once did you look him in the eyes, avoiding his gaze altogether. you were afraid it would make you weak in your resolve, walls crumbling and falling apart like paper mâché.

arriving at the bench, the two of you sat far apart, mirroring the distance between your hearts. you reminisced the old times, the memories making you queasy. whenever you spent time here as children, you would sit close to each other and read books together or just told each other stories. all that’s left was bitterness, heavy and suffocating on your tongue. “what is it that you wanted to tell me?” you questioned him, folding your hands on your lap. you were clenching your hands hard to keep them from trembling, not wanting to show him any weakness.

noritoshi was questioning his own resolve - he shouldn’t tell you anything, should’ve stayed away from you. the yearning was too strong; it was one of the few times he would ever get to see you again before being sent to yet another mission. noritoshi wanted to be selfish, to savour your presence until he was satisfied. maybe you would understand, at least a little bit. he didn’t expect you to forgive him, nor did he think you would let him crawl back into your space. but being close to you was enough.

“i know no amount of apologizing is going to make this better or even take the pain you’ve felt from my treatment but i want you to know that i’m really sorry. you didn’t deserve that whatsoever. i can’t tell you the exact reason why but- but i don’t want to leave you in the unknown any longer,” noritoshi recited his reasons so fast that you almost weren’t able to follow. with each word, your confusion visibly grew. but instead of feeling anger, as you should have, your heart grew heavier with disappointment. his confession was somewhat of closure but not quite. why couldn’t he tell you the reason? was it really so important? important enough to hurt you? you couldn’t understand and you didn’t want to.

“i don’t understand. why can’t you tell me? in case you didn’t realize yourself, this entire thing makes no sense. i don’t understand why you suddenly started hating me. we were close friends, we grew up together. are you telling me you never felt that way? that you weren’t and still aren’t able to trust me with this… reason? and why would you dump this onto me now? i would’ve been content not knowing anything at all,” you vented frustrated, sending him a glare. noritoshi was taken back by your outburst, gnawing at his bottom lip as he looked at you guiltily.

“i… fuck, i don’t know how to explain this without giving away too much, okay? i know it’s stupid but it’s complicated and i don’t want to drag you into this. i trust you, more than i trust anyone but this wasn’t… it wasn’t because i didn’t trust you,” noritoshi took a deep breath. “my entire goal was to protect you by keeping you away from me. and yeah, that was the only way.”

“but why-”

“now that i’ve left school, i’ll most likely be traveling a lot… i won’t be able to see you, let alone keep my eyes on you to make sure you’re okay. i just wanted to be fucking selfish for once, just needed to see you again. you don’t want to see me, i get it. i’ve been nothing but cruel to you and i don't expect you to ever forgive me. but i promise i'll make it up to you."

"noritoshi," you clenched your jaw, brows furrowed as you leaned over, jabbing your finger at his chest. "i don't want to play this game of cat and mouse with you. let's just stay away from each other, okay? nothing good comes out of it anyways. either you want me by your side or you don't, easy as that. you don't get to decide when to get back into my life just because you feel like it."

you just couldn't show him how hurt you were. whatever opening you would reveal, noritoshi would use it against you. he had always been and will always remain your weak point. you made peace with the fact that he was your first love but would probably not be your last. a dam broke inside you as you felt the warmth of his chest, memories flooding your senses. that day was long forgotten, exiled out of your memories until now. there was never a moment that allowed you to reflect on it. you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it and his confession had confirmed the suspicions. noritoshi wasn't the type to engage with people he strongly disliked, much less be intimate with them. there was more to it that he simply refused to disclose to you. you had to put an end to this endless circle - a clean cut until the two of you were ready to face each other again.

taking a deep breath, you withdrew your hand and clutched it to your chest. "this isn't going to work out the way it is. you keep pulling and pushing, without giving me an explanation and- and i'm tired of it. i'm tired of getting hurt. i used to like you a lot, i had a crush on you-"

"you what?" noritoshi visibly paled, unnoticeably inching closer to you. he never realized.

"-and i kept hoping that one day you would return the feelings. i'm a fool, for thinking we could ever get anywhere," you smiled bitterly, slowly getting up from the bench. "let's go back to being enemies, okay? pretend this never happened. it's obvious we need to grow as people, independently from each other. maybe it's good that we'll go separate ways… if fate wants it, we'll find back to each other. and hopefully by then, you'll have a good explanation."

conflicted, you didn’t take another step, staring down at him. he looked small and meek as he sat there with his usually broad frame hunched over and kept his eyes on the grass below him, fiddling with his fingers. as if sensing your gaze on him, noritoshi tilted his head to look at you. his mind was elsewhere, far far away. he didn't realize he was staring at you with blank eyes until you came closer and leaned down concerned. you were so close to him, he could almost feel your breath fanning across his skin. you liked him. noritoshi fucked up, majorly, and he felt like everything was slipping from his fingers. his carefully constructed walls, the mask he kept on at all times and the unwavering resolve to push through until he'd become the head of the clan, they all came crumbling down when you announced that you would leave for an indefinite amount of time.

"don't leave," the words came out like a whisper, barely audible in the chimes of the wind. your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words, heart clenching at the sight of such a vulerable noritoshi - a reflection of your 'toshi. he reached out to you, hesitantly glasping your hand in a weak grip. as if he was afraid, prepared even, that you would go anyways. "please," he pleaded a second later, intertwining your fingers with his. like the wings of a hummingbird, your heart was fastly beating at this display of intimacy. it made you feel warm and cold at the same time, filling you with dread and the looming fear of consequences.

but what would he do if his last source of hope would leave him? ever since his mum left, he sparsely had contact with her until the contact eventually ceased to be. never did she reach out to him or react to his attempts to rekindle the relationship. throughout his adolescent years he had lonely, the guilt gnawing at his conscience. if only he could be stronger, more resilient. stand up to the elders and stand tall and proud, being nobody else but him. you gave him hope, that he could someday return to you, even if it remained a simple friendship. a beacon of light would always be one as there was always light at the end of the tunnel. panic filled his head as he realized that you would abandon him and this time it would be final.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," noritoshi mumbled in a begging tone and slowly drew you closer, until you stood between his legs. his face was basked in the evening light, accentuating all the features you liked about him. his kind, steel blue eyes that harboured depths of emotion and mystery like a restless ocean. his long hair that flowed with the wind, not being wrapped up in the bindings for once. the wisps of hair that framed his slim face. it was an unusual sight, making your heart clench in melancholy. he looked so innocent like this, the gentleness in his facial expressions more visible now. as if feeling your resolve slipping away, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and pressed his face in your chest, exhaling shakily and slowly. you let him, gently petting his hair.

underneath his breath, noritoshi murmured something. his voice was muffled in the fabric, making it difficult to understand what he was saying. you made a confused sound, leaning down slightly to better listen to him. not expecting him to move as well, you suddenly found yourself face to face with him and much closer than before. "i love you," he breathed out, pressing his lips against yours in a fluid motion. they felt scalding against yours, as if reminding you to stay away and yet soft, inviting you back in. finally gasping for air, you pulled away, fingers coming up to touch your tingling lips. noritoshi gave you a hopeful look, fingers dancing across the expanse of your back.

slowly, you backed away from him, avoiding his glance. you were in shock, not being able to process his confession. the entire confrontation had quickly escalated and you weren't able to follow. though the words made your heart clench, you couldn't help but feel like they were empty words. empty, simply thrown into the mix to elicit some kind of reaction from you. "i'm sorry, noritoshi. i- i can't return this, nor do i… i don't feel like i can believe you," you told him with a heavy heart. he opened his mouth, about to retort something when you cut him off. "please just let us move on from this, okay? i- i'll leave now." you sprinted away from him, tears stinging in your eyes. how could words that you've always wanted to hear hurt this much? how dare he play with your emotions like this, using your weakness to his advantage. he wasn't serious, and you were sure of it. there was no way in hell, after all those years that he'd spent being a menacing asshole.

love was a fickle thing but what was it between noritoshi and you? treading the line between love and hate, tilting more towards the other but not quite. never far apart and connected to each other like an invisible thread of fate was intertwined between you. it wasn't love and it wasn't hate but everything in between.

you stared at the piece of paper in your hands, mildly offended. how dare gojo? why would he do this to you? yeah right, because he liked to see you suffer. and he wasn't even here to get an earful from you. clenching your teeth, you tossed the note on your table and moved towards your closet to pack. it was no use complaining about it, in the end the mission had to be accomplished either way. years you'd gotten away with rarely ever meeting noritoshi. the sorcerer community wasn't big to begin with but with skill and determination, you were able to dodge every encounter. the handful of times you met, he always kept his distance though you always felt his watching eyes on you. megumi had told you that noritoshi was to become clan head soon - the elders had finally given in and the handover would be taking place soon.

apparently noritoshi had proven himself to them, both in strength and leadership skills. even you had taken notice of this. you'd only caught a brief glimpse at him at the last gathering but could tell that he had matured, exuding an authoritative and strong aura. but you had grown as well, no longer the meek girl you had been. you were more confident in your skills now thanks to your diligent training with shoko and yuta. moments of insecurity rarely entered your mind anymore. the relationship, or rather lack thereof, between you was rather frosty now, merely limited to an awkward greeting or a simple nod. the tension was palpable, no one wanted to come in the line of fire. for the most part, people had left you alone and not dared asking about the issue, not even your own mum. but of course, gojo then had to enter and send you on this stupid mission that apparently had to be done in pairs. you would’ve been fine with anyone but noritoshi.

it was a rather unpleasant curse that you had to deal with, gojo told you that it required two people to keep it in check. though you didn’t understand his reasoning, seeing as noritoshi was a grade one sorcerer now. gojo had simply left you a note on your door after he left for his own business (pure cowardice, in your opinion). the note let you know that you would be staying overnight, gojo had already booked a hotel room for you and gave you instructions for the report that you had to fill out later. you were to meet up with noritoshi at the hotel before then heading out to investigate, work out a strategy before attacking. you sighed, tossing the bag near the door before crawling in your bed. how would you face him again, for an extended period of time, after all those years of silence? it was best to just get it over and done with, efficiently and quickly. depending on how fast you were, you might even be able to catch the last train home. you couldn’t sleep, feeling restless and anxious about the entire situation. still, you closed your eyes, trying to get your mind to rest. but all that floated around in your brain was the sound of rustling leaves, accompanied with soft lips on yours.

coincidentally, noritoshi was already in the city the curse was situated at, deciding to then check into the hotel first before you’d meet up. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous - he didn’t know how to navigate the entire mission with minimal communication. he knew you didn’t want to talk to him, choosing to give him curt and snappy responses instead. cooperating was out of question, you disliked his presence and he could feel it. seeing that gojo had coordinated this (instead of doing the mission himself, like he was supposed to), noritoshi didn't expect anything to go well. weeks prior, gojo had pestered him about the title that was bestowed upon him. "so what's your first deed as the kamo clan head?" he had questioned noritoshi, grinning from ear to ear. noritoshi had shrugged and simply told him that he would go about his day. there were no plans, not yet at least. "so you're not gonna go and woo your lady?" this all knowing idiot. just thinking about it made his blood boil again.

noritoshi’s patience was already wearing thin upon seeing that gojo had booked one room for the two of you. with one bed only. he swore that gojo's secret skill was to give everyone headaches. complaining was useless, the hotel couldn't give him another room as everything was booked out due to it being the summer holidays. they'd deal with it somehow, even if he would have to sleep on the floor. noritoshi was placing his bag and outerwear in the closet when the door clicked, signaling that you'd arrived. for a brief moment, your eyes met but as soon as they did, your eyes had flitted somewhere else. you placed your bag on a nearby chair, rummaging in it until you found your sword and other supplies that you would be taking with you.

noritoshi remained silent, not wanting to upset you. he waited until you were ready to go, soundlessly following you. it was awkward but expected. at first, he was somewhat able to tell what you were looking for and gave you pointers in the right direction. it seemed to irritate you and you started venturing off on your own, simply leaving him behind. it frustrated him, after all you had a job to be done and needed to be as careful as possible. as a result of your uncooperativeness, it took longer than usual to map out a strategy. even longer because you refused to follow his suggestions and rather made up your own, knowing full well that they weren't as efficient.

the aftermath was… rather unpleasant. while there were no casualties, the two of you looked absolutely filthy and were in need of a good shower. noritoshi was angry, he didn't want to blame you but the entire situation got incredibly messy because of your stubborn head. hadn't you attacked him on your own, he would've been able to get rid of the curse swiftly. you'd snapped at him, asking him what his problem was. after all, the mission was finished and over with. involuntarily, noritoshi had to snort. you came back to the hotel late, far past midnight and still, you had the nerve to nag on him the entire way there. he'd let you use the shower first before hopping in himself. without a word you left the hotel room to grab yourself some snacks, stomach growling in protest.

noritoshi was seldom petty; as he put his robe on and entered the room, discovering that you hadn't come back yet, he promptly decided to give you a taste of your own medicine and stubbornly take the bed. what would you do about it now? he was peacefully reading a book in the dim lighting of the room when you came back. you almost dropped the snacks that you grabbed, narrowing your eyes at him. noritoshi ignored you, turning another page in the book unbothered. huffing in annoyance, you stomped over to the other side of the bed. noritoshi continued to ignore you.

"i'm not sharing a bed with you," you stated, crossing your arms in defiance. you didn't have any other solution but you were not going down without a fight.

noritoshi just narrowed his eyes at you and replied equally annoyed: "childish much, huh? just put some pillows between us if it bothers you that much. we're adults, for fuck's sake. and we've shared beds before, so i don't know what your problem is."

at this point you were fuming, you'd rather sleep on the floor than go anywhere near him. you wanted to wipe that stupid look off his face because you knew he was right and he knew it too. you were being childish and you couldn't deny it. there was no real reason to the quarrel, you wanted to be as insufferable as possible.

"it's different now!" you hissed indignantly. noritoshi looks at you incredulously, not getting your point. "you're a man now and- and it makes me uncomfortable!"

truthfully, it was more the fact that you were painfully aware of his presence now. noritoshi hadn't noticed but your feelings came crashing back in, filling the entirety of your being with yearning. each and every time he came too close, you dashed and didn't give him the opportunity to look at your face. the pained expression on your face was obvious, you weren't able to hide it. despite the hostility, you couldn't help but care. no matter how much you denied it, you would always habour feelings for him and were very much attracted to him.

"that's why i told you to put pillows between us??"

okay, that's it. "i can't stand being anywhere near you! you're a prick and i hate you," you snarled at him. to seal the deal, you hurled one of the pillows at him and watched triumphantly as it hit his chest. the angry look in noritoshi's eyes, however, told you that you fucked up. gritting his teeth, he tossed his book aside and lunged to grab you. you squeaked in surprise and wiggled out of his grasp, wrestling out of his arms until you stumbled and awkwardly landed on the bed, beside him. noritoshi keeps a tight grip on you, glaring down at you. now you've really crossed the line. 

all confidence left your body when he hissed: "what. is. your. problem." you fucked up, royally. once noritoshi was mad, you were in for a ride. it was best to keep him in good spirits, appease him a little so he would ease up. you scrambled panicky and tried to apologize, pathetically wiggling in his arms.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry! i didn't mean it, please let me go!"

noritoshi kept a steel grip on you, moving between your legs and pinning your hands to the mattress. his face inched closer, you could feel his breath fanning across your neck. you stayed still, breath hitched as you waited for his next move. noritoshi's voice was raspy, lilting with an emotion that you couldn't decipher. "you're being a brat, y/n. look at yourself, you've hurt me… tsk, how are you going to make it up to me?"

you couldn't tell whether he was joking or genuinely hurt - your intuition told you that he was simply playing with you as payback. no matter how far away you strayed, you always seemed to find yourself back in this position. he was hypnotizing, alluring even. not giving him a reply, you stared at the ceiling, frozen in thought. while you'd been intimate on more than one occasion, noritoshi had never acted this way. so… possessive and strict, the tone in his voice told you that he wasn't up for any more quarreling. you were at a loss for words. 

noritoshi, not being happy with not receiving an answer, decided to take matters in his own hands. he nipped at your neck playfully, making you yelp in surprise before pressing kisses against your neck. your skin was tingling, shots of electricity moving up your spine. when there was no objection on your end, noritoshi took it was an okay to continue. hands squeezing yours, he resumes his work, giving you soft and almost unnoticeable kisses. other times, he was pressing harder, sucking your skin gently. you wondered whether he left some marks - delirious on pleasure, your mind focused back on him.desire overtook you, no longer was your rationality at the forefront. in the depths of your heart, an emotion that rarely made an appearance emerged. it was flooding your senses, your conscious and mind, begging you to give in.

by the time noritoshi reached your lips, you were writhing. you expected him to kiss you but then he stopped, making you involuntarily whimper. you wanted more, wanted to savour it. a small smile found its way onto his lips as he brushed your hair back and cupped your chin, making you look at him.

and you swore that he knew, he just had to know what a mess he's already made of you in such a short amount of time as he asked, "what's wrong hm? what do you need, baby?" you fell for it, hook line and sinker. you thought to yourself, fuck it, the opportunity was right there. he may be an insufferable dick and you might fight more than you get along but the opportunity was there and god, did you want to be selfish. for just one night, you wanted to be his. you leaned up to kiss him but noritoshi pulled back, clicking his tongue, repeating again and this time more firmly, "what do you need?" 

you couldn't help but stare at him, how his slightly damp hair framed his face, his chest that was exposed by the loosely tied bathrobe and how it revealed parts of his thigh. you wanted to see more of him, touch him. there was a burning feeling inside your chest, it was clawing at your skin, trying to break free. you grew more restless as he stayed still and gave you a stern look until you grasped the hem of his sleeves and whimpered quietly, "please kiss me."

it felt like an eternity until he pressed his lips against yours, everything that was so unmistakably him flooded your senses. his scent wrapped around you until your brain couldn't make out any more coherent thoughts other than him. 'toshi, 'toshi, 'toshi, your 'toshi. he moved so languidly; his lips were warm and soft but bruising at the same time, kissing you with fervour. you began to ease into the kiss, letting go of all your inhibitions. you could worry about it later, you'd decided, this is a future you problem. you wiggled in his hold, hands coming up to push at his bathrobe. noritoshi didn't budge and continued to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip - your hands became more restless, desperate to touch him. he made an unenthused noise, biting your bottom lip as if warning you to not push him. still, he somehow obliged and sat back on his heels, taking his bathrobe off and throwing it haphazardly to the side. 

he looked ethereal, somewhere in the distance you thought you can hear angels singing. you reached out to touch him again, earning you yet another warning glance from him. “where do you get the confidence to do whatever you want after that little stunt you pulled earlier?” he questioned you in a low voice. whatever snarky remark you had on your tongue was thrown out of the window when noritoshi leaned down to touch you, slowly pushing your oversized shirt up to reveal your shorts, then your bra. 

your breath hitched in your throat, you couldn't tell what he was thinking because even in this state he kept his perfect poker face on. and when he undressed you, you almost felt embarrassed of how eager you were to rid yourself of your clothes. yet you felt exposed - noritoshi didn't make a sound as he just studied you as if you were a luxurious meal presented on a silver plate, the sound of his breathing alone making you squirmish. he didn't give you the satisfaction of a compliment nor did he let you know what he thought, instead leaning down to kiss you again.

before you could deepen the kiss, he’s already moved down to your neck. you mewled in disappointment, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your hands in his hair. this time, he let you touch him, too absorbed in his mission to paint the skin of your neck in hues of red and purple. noritoshi moved lower when he was finally satisfied with his work of art, you’re a great canvas, he thought to himself. the burning feeling in your chest was flaring up again, you felt uncomfortably hot and the only relief you got was him touching you. he must know, he was doing this on purpose. you were convinced. a surprised gasp left your lips when his tongue swiped across your nipple before wrapping his lips around it. his fingers flicked the other one and- oh god did it feel so electrifying, so delicious, so good. you moaned his name, gently tugging on his hair as he continued his ministrations. “noritoshi,” you whimpered, trying to grind against his thigh. “please- please touch me.” he moved faster than you could react, snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin.

“i am touching you,” noritoshi responded matter-of-factly, cupping your breasts. “is this not enough?” you shook your head, making him chuckle. he took his sweet time, lathering your chest with the utmost attention. at this point you were sure you’d soaked through your panties and onto the sheets and you were desperate. finally, his lips left your nipple, his breath grazing them, making you shiver. he seemed to enjoy it, enjoy the effect he has on you, how you were writhing for him and him only. with swift movements, he removed your panties and your legs were thrown over his shoulders - how are his shoulders so broad - and he pressed kisses to your inner thighs. “look at you,” he cooed, glancing up at you. “you’re so wet for me and i haven’t even touched you here yet. are you craving me?”

“yes,” you mewled truthfully, wiggling your hips slightly. you missed how his face lights up in delight, loving how you’re slowly but surely coming undone for him. he was placing kisses everywhere but where you wanted him, where you needed him. you were at his mercy, he alone decided the pace. the desperate little tugs at his hair left him unbothered, you couldn't even move properly because he was keeping a tight grip on your hips, holding them down onto the mattress. “do you want me?” you nodded quickly. “then beg.”

"i'm not- i'm not gonna fucking b-" you didn't get to finish your sentence as noritoshi gave your inner thigh a bite. 

"language," he hissed in irritation. "we can do this all night, baby. i don't have any qualms about keeping you here, making you squirm until you know not to treat me like that." to emphasize his threat, his hands languidly stroked your inner thighs, inching closer to your heat. goosebumps raised across your skin. noritoshi paid no mind to your laboured breathing or how you stared at him in disbelief. you would not beg him more than this, this stupid asshole, who did he think he is to expect you to do as he says? as if sensing that your attention wasn't on him anymore, one of his hands reached up to pinch your nipple.

you felt his fingers grazing your pussy, flicking over your clit but not quite touching it. yet the pleasure, coupled with the sharp pain of his pinching, was enough to make you delirious. you moaned his name, hips rutting up slightly to meet his hand. noritoshi pulled away abruptly and made you whine in frustration. "noritoshi!" you whimpered again, closing your eyes in embarrassment. "please just- just touch m-" 

you felt another, harder pinch, tingles shooting straight to your core. "look at me," noritoshi growled and you opened your eyes quickly, not wanting to disappoint him again.

"please touch me, please just… i need you, need your lips or fingers," you struggled to find the right words, huffing in frustration at your weak attempt to persuade him. "please make me cum, please. i'll be good for you, i promise, i promise. wanna be good for you." 

a sardonic smile graced noritoshi's lips, your begging music to his ears. he almost wished you could see yourself like this - the yearning evident in your eyes, your glossy eyes. what would you say? how quickly your resolve had crumbled, even though you'd vowed to yourself to keep him at an arm's length away from you. what was more heavenly to his ears are your moans and he intended to draw every last bit out of you tonight.

when his tongue finally made contact with your cunt, a loud moan leaves your lips, you almost sob in relief. your thighs trembled slightly, threatening to close but noritoshi was quick to pry them open and delved deeper into your heat. he alternated between lapping at your folds, then dragging his tongue across your clit before giving it a suck. your hips rocked against his face, meeting his movements as if it was already second nature to them. you thought you were seeing stars when you inched closer to your climax. tugging at his hair you whimpered out his name, letting him know that you're close, so close. that's when he pulled away, smirking at you as your high slowly ebbed away. you made a noise in protest, brows pinching in frustration but noritoshi just cooed at you condescendingly. 

"you seem to forget who's in control here," he tsked at you, dragging his thumb across your clit. your hips jerked. "but, baby, you look so pitiful, i might just feel sorry for you." 

hope sparked in your eyes when he pressed a brief kiss to your lips before slipping his fingers past your folds, his thumb drawing circles on your clit. "ride my fingers," he commanded and you reacted immediately, eagerly rutting against his fingers. you missed the dark glint in his eyes, the look that tells you you were not easily let off the hook whatsoever. pleasure was clouding your judgement, heightening your sensitivity to his touch. a loud moan fell from your lips when noritoshi curled his fingers, hitting a spot that otherwise was difficult for you to reach. your hand came up to cover your mouth, too embarrassed about other guests possibly hearing you.

noritoshi withdrew his fingers, thumb pressing against your clit. you gasped desperately, pawing at his chest to plead him to continue. "i want to hear you. don't you dare hide your moans," he told you, only sliding his fingers back into you when you complied. noritoshi was still kneeling, watching as you moved your hips against his fingers with fascination. while you'd kept a steady rhythm at the beginning, it was getting more and more sporadic. you were close again, noritoshi could tell. and yet it wasn't enough, he had to get you closer to the edge to then break you after.

"o- oh fuck," you cursed, gripping the sheets tightly as noritoshi moved his fingers, repeatedly hitting the spot that made your toes curl. you were to close, you could cum, soon- 

"noritoshi!" a frustrated sob resounded from you as he pulled away, looking down at you with a satisfied smirk. your hands came up to wipe the tears that were welling in your eyes. you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying as you watched him pop his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence from them. the sight alone made you feel hot and bothered. in the dim light of the room, noritoshi looked downright sinful. the way his broad frame was casting a shadow over your form, his glistening eyes, the sheen of sweat on his body and how his hair was hanging in his face.

"please let me cum, please! i- i want you so bad, want you in me… noritoshi, please give me it," you begged quietly, crawling towards him. noritoshi felt his heart soften at your cute face - you were so easy to read, he enjoyed teasing you. small hands reached out for the bulge in his boxers, experimentally pressing and nudging at it. noritoshi hissed uncomfortably; he was painfully hard and ready to cum as well but he couldn't, not yet. wanted to play with you more, mapping out the entirety of your body until he memorized how you reacted to his touch.

swiftly flipping positions, he pulled you on top of him, placing you directly above his crotch. you sank down immediately, sighing shakily as you pressed your cunt against the bulge. the boxers had to come off, they were the last barrier. you had to feel his skin on yours, wanted to be closer. noritoshi's hands shot out to stop you, giving you a warning look. you understood, withdrawing your arms to rest on your sides. pressing his bulge against you, he guided your hips to move against it, folds dragging across the fabric of his boxers. the friction was delicious, especially when he rutted against you, pressing against your clit. it took you a few tries until you figured out a comfortable rhythm, placing your hands against his chest as you moved on your own.

noritoshi kept his eyes on you. brushing your hair out of your face so he could get a better look at you, he then rested them near your thighs. "are you close?" he inquired when your movements became quicker and you nodded in reply, giving him a pleading look. he raised his eyebrows at you, shaking his head ever so slightly. "you don't get to cum without my permission."

he could see the conflict and hesitation, dancing in your eyes, how you were contemplating to go against his commands. noritoshi's heart filled with pride when you slowed down, thighs trembling from the restraint you kept on yourself. "good girl," he rewarded you, leaning up to kiss you. you whimpered against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. you were a sight to behold, noritoshi mused. slick spread across the fabric of his boxers and your thighs, kiss-bruised lips and the love bites that were blooming across your chest. he was proud to be able to have this effect on you. 

it didn't take long until you were close again, this time begging and pleading him to let you continue. noritoshi supposed he toyed around enough, ready to give you what you were so desperately craving. lifting you up slightly, he pushed his boxers down and reached to the side, fumbling with the drawers of the night table before being able to pull out a condom. you watched in curiosity, as he put it on then lined his member up against your pussy. he dragged the head of his cock against your clit a couple of times, making you jump in surprise before letting you sink down. a long, relieved moan left your lips as you felt him fill you up to the brim. you'd never felt this full and good. jerking your hips against his slightly, your legs trembled as he perfectly hit that spot inside you effortlessly. his name fell from your lips like a mantra, letting everyone know that he was the one pleasuring you. 

noritoshi let you adjust to him before wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place, driving his hips up against yours in an almost punishing tempo. your lips parted in a silent scream, no sounds leaving them other than heavy breaths. "f- fuck, noritoshi! i'm so close, please let me have it, please-" you begged sobbing. you didn't think you could survive another edging, it would utterly crush you. knowing that you were at his mercy, you complied with his orders. never had you felt this much pleasure, with anyone. noritoshi accomplished what others could never - setting your nerves ablaze with a simple touch.

"cum for me." your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, leaving you writhing in his arms until you rode it out. noritoshi continued to move against you in a languid tempo, lovingly pressing kisses across your face. you slumped against his body exhausted, aftershocks still wracking through your body. he stroke your back gently, giving you a short kiss. "can you take another one?" he asked, making you look at him. though your mind was hazy, you could tell that he was caring, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible despite his mean side. you nodded, your words slurred as you told him: "mhmm, still want you, all of you."

noritoshi was laying you on the mattress, freezing mid-way as he hovered above you. could it be? there was no way. he brushed the thought off quickly, leaning down to kiss you. you sloppily returned the kiss, blindly moving your hands around until you found his, intertwining them happily. swiftly, he entered you again - now taking his sweet time. the pace was slow but filled with force, making you see stars. you wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his skin. you blinked in confusion as noritoshi whispered sweet nothings into your ear. tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him - you wanted him, so so much that it hurt you. you imagined you weren't in this situation, that this was simply intimacy between lovers. that you were his and he was yours, with no care in the world.

driving his hips against yours faster now, you could tell that he was close. lifting your hips to meet his movement, you whimpered against his lips. you wanted to pleasure him as much as he did you. the sight of his screwed shut eyes, panting heavily as he came, it nearly knocked the wind out of your lungs. noritoshi buried his face in the crook of your neck, whimpering quietly as he thrusted a few more times before coming to a halt. for a few minutes, you remain in this position, basking in the afterglow. he removes himself from you, telling you to stay put as he left to get some wet towels from the bathroom. as you laid there, your cunt wasn't the only thing that felt empty.

your eyes were glossing over and you were once again reminded of the fact that you couldn't have him. that he’s not your ‘toshi. you sat up slowly, spotting the mirror across the room. you stared at your reflection in your mirror, horrified at all the marks noritoshi had left behind and suddenly it dawned on you that you don’t understand why. you didn't care about each other - why would he mark you like this? your heartbeat sped up at the thought of him possibly, maybe, returning your feelings. that he wasn't just toying with your feelings to get back at you.

noritoshi returned, giving you a small smile as he signaled you to lift your arms a little so he could wipe you down. the gentleness in his actions made you sniffle emotionally; he paid attention to every single detail, making sure not to miss a spot. once done, he placed the towel on the nearby chair then returning to wrap you in the blankets and cradling you against his chest like a baby. the sound of his breath nearly lulled you into sleep. you leaned against his chest, sinking into the blankets. "are you okay? was i too rough?" noritoshi asked after a moment of silence. you didn't reply. why was he acting like this? as if you were a couple, as if he really cared. 

"y/n? you don't have to reply, but at least give me a hand sign, so i know you're okay," he repeated again, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. you turned your head away from him, trying to hide your tears. it wasn't long before you started crying uncontrollably, hiding your face in your hands. noritoshi started panicking, fussing over you and tried to pry your hands away so you would look at him. repeatedly shaking your head, you pushed him away from you.

"w- why couldn't you always be this gentle to me?" the words finally left your mouth, accusatory. "i- i didn't deserve any of this treatment and i still struggle to understand why it happened. i should hate you, hate you so much and yet i don't? why can't you love me the way i love you?"

speechless, noritoshi pulled away from you, arms sinking to his sides. it made you sob even harder, thinking that he was going to leave you again, like he always did. he never stayed, only came to wreck havoc, leaving you to pick up the pieces. "y/n, i'm sorry, i-" he drew you in, pressing you against his chest. you were confused at your own outbreak of emotions, not sure how to calm down. "i'm not sure what you thought, but i meant it when i told you that i love you, all those years back," noritoshi mumbled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

you shook your head vehemently. "i don't believe that, not for one second. you've hurt me for so long and suddenly you had a change of heart?"

"i know it's hard to believe, but i promise i'm not lying. i do love you. with all my heart," noritoshi lifted your chin slightly, wiping the tears from your eyes. gently, he kissed you. "back then, i wasn't able to tell you but… things have changed now and i'll tell you, okay? but not now, tomorrow-"

"no! you'll just leave again and act like nothing happened and i-" you panicked, clinging onto him as dread washed over you again. he was going to leave again, the mission was over after all and you'd go separate ways again.

"i'm staying." noritoshi said firmly, holding your hands so you couldn't flail around anymore. "i'm not leaving you, okay? go to sleep, i know you're exhausted… when you wake up, i'll be there. we'll discuss things in the morning."

"promise?" 

"i promise."

you didn't know why but this time, you trusted him. at least a little bit more than before. nodding slightly, you pressed your small frame against his. noritoshi's calming scent wrapped around you, lulling you into sleep. he watched as you fell asleep in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he settled as well, closing his eyes.

"i love you, y/n."

p.s.: i hurt myself writing this too haha but i swear this was it with the angst

[mochi-marie]

hello and congratulations ! 💕 for the event could you do the song heat waves by glass animals with bokuto? focusing on the chorus „sometimes all i think about is you, late nights in the middle of june,,,,". for the reader! male reader if you're okay with that, if not then gender neutral is totally okay! shorter than him (not by a lot, probably like half a foot or less), and has a build more on the larger side, and has freckles, curly hair, and glasses. the reader is also introverted and gets flustered very easily. thank u ! <3

genre : ( insecurity-based ) angst to fluff ( ? )

pairing : bokuto kotaro x introverted! male reader ( bigger, curly, freckles, glasses )

author's note : okay, for some reason, i started to listen to this song on repeat for a long while just basking in the lyrics and music to get acquainted and to familiarize myself with the general vibe i got from it -- i got really inspired by reading the lyrics while listening, so thank you so much for helping me find my new favorite song!!! i hope you enjoy! this is also my first time officially writing a male-insert, so please, any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! also, i might have strayed from the main focus of the specific lyric, so i deeply apologize!! 😖💛

also, if i forgot any warnings that anyone thinks i should add, please tell me as soon as possible!!

warning : insecurity, feeling as though you are not enough, angst ( kinda? ), ooc bokuto ( in my opinion ), written at 2 A.M. + Unedited

Hands shoved into small pockets under the summer night sky, you avoided his curious gaze, opting to let your hand come up to ruffle your curly hair rather hastily. thinking -- thinking about ways to stall for just a few minutes longer, hoping to whatever power above that he would just wait and listen patiently until you finally explained why you had asked him to meet you out in the parking lot after his practice. The daylight had disappeared during the few minutes you both silently basked in each other's company, the stars just barely starting to flash and twinkle above both of your heads. Summertime was in full swing, though a soft breeze managed to drift by, tousling and playing with your bouncy locks and waving through his salt-and-pepper hair. If the bitter thoughts had not been weighing heavily on your mind, perhaps you would've giggled. Any other time you might have nudged him, gesturing for him to lean down just a smidge so you yourself could do as the wind and card through his hair with your fingers, gently separating the spikes of hair stuck together from sweat due to the hard volleyball practice. Oh, what you would give for your mind to be empty enough to carelessly be enough for and with him.

The thoughts weighed on you heavily -- the ideas implanted by society's view of perfection. The world around you would question why Bokuto would be with someone such as yourself; someone so imperfect, drowning in their insecurities. What gave you the right to bog him down with your personal issues? Did you not notice the glances peers would give, watching Bokuto buzz around you happily as you both walked along? Do you not see the way he works hard to keep himself so... perfect? That was the only word worthy of describing your Kotaro. Perfection was his middle name, it seemed; a perfectly beautiful smile that lit up a room, a bubbly personality that could only ever seem to do good for the people that relaxed in his presence. Yes, your boyfriend was effortlessly perfect. So why couldn't you be the same? Why were you who you are, why must you feel so unworthy?

Your arms had migrated to wrapping around your mid-section, eyes planted to the ground as your mind raced. You didn't see the way Bokuto's eyes glanced down to you, worry laced in his honey eyes. While Bokuto wasn't the brightest academically, that did not mean he was completely simple-minded; he was well versed in emotions, specifically your emotions. He often prided himself on saying that he knew you like he knows the very back of his hand, and it seemed that this claim was no lie. His hand gravitated toward your own, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry -- "(name)? is... is everything okay?" His voice was spoken low and soft, hoping to not startle you. "What's wrong?" His voice reached your ears, and with a quick glance from the corner of your eye, you were met with the honey-hued sight that always managed to calm your nerves better than what any remedy could.

Clearing your throat softly, your mouth opened, and yet no words would form. The words that swam dangerously in your head died the second they landed on your tongue, and you were left open-mouthed, trying to form a coherent sentence. Why was it so hard to simply talk about your insecurities? You mentally scowled, a bretah catching in your chest before you let your eyes flutter closed, trying to gather yourself quickly.

Bokuto's hand grasped onto the tips of your fingers, eyes surveying your face for any reaction. With the familiar cute pink hue slowly growing onto the apples of your cheeks, he pulled your hand closer to himself, his own fingers nervously fiddling with your own fingers. Your nervousness was starting to catch, making him anxious. What was so wrong that you could barely even form the words you wanted to say? His mind blanked, biting the inside of his cheek as he scanned your face numerous times, waiting for a sign that you were ready. He would be patient, for you.

His hand never left yours.

"Why are you still with me?"

Shaky breathing. The stilling of fiddling fingers. The confused exhale of air, paired with furrowed eyebrows that you could not see with your eyes tightly snapped shut, cheeks burning with embarrassment and eyes met with the faint, familiar hot sting. Your breath was held tightly in your throat, glasses slipping down the bridge of your nose with the way your head was tilted at a downward angle.

"What do you mean?" Was his only response, calm, though by the small waver of his voice, you knew his eyes were most likely wide. Wide and churning with golden panic that would not suit his boyish attitude. Eyes creeping open, you were met with exactly what you had predicted. Your hand slipped from his, arms resting against your stomach, trying to provide yourself the comfort a part of you was craving -- a crave for his comforting touch. His hugs of which never failed to spark butterflies to explode in your stomach, the hugs that wrapped around you fully, trapping you within his warm, strong embrace that made you feel at home; the hugs that made you feel like everything was okay again. "You'd be better off with someone more like you. You just need a better life than this..." Your voice met his ears, and with every unspoken word that finally spilled from your lips, he finally realized how much this bothered you, and now how it affected him.

His hands found your shoulders and he pulled you to his chest, one palm resting snug against your back, the other arm resting around your shoulder, cradling your face to his chest and into the strong, warm embrace that always managed to wash all your worries away.

"You're all I need." Bokuto mumbled firmly, adam's apple bobbing as he held back the severe urge to let his tears escape from the corner of his eyes where they had started to pool as the situation continued to dawn. You didn't feel enough, and that was more than enough information for him to finally understand what was going on through your handsome little head. "You're all I need, all I'll ever want, 'kay?" Voice murmured against the crown of your head as he pressed his lips to your curly hair -- so soft, locks of your beautiful curls that always tickled his face when you'd embrace in a joyful hug at every greeting, his lips, like default, softly curling upwards at the familiar feeling that calmed his nerves. "You're more than enough, just remember that. Sometimes all i think about is you... don't forget that 'm never far away," Bokuto paused, pulling away to look down at you softly, readjusting the glasses that had slipped down your nose and at an awkward angle to avoid being crushed by the force of you against his chest.

"Say it with me."

"What?" "Say you're enough, please, (name),"

"Wh-"

"So you know that you're perfect the way you are, I need to know that we leave happy. Happy and together, (name)," Bokuto smiled a wobbly smile, eyes begging you to do this one thing for him -- for the both of you.

"I am enough" is a phrase that will resonate with your soul one day. A fact that is disguised by the hardened layers of stony-resilience that makes the battle of self-love seem impossible. Yet you are one of the strongest people Bokuto knows, and he believes in your abilities, passion, and you as a whole in all of his entirety, just like you do with him. A relationship with a deep emotional connection, and with him, this deep connection felt like a home away from home. Yes, Bokuto is indeed perfection, you decide.

His hand never left yours for the rest of the night, uncharacteristically yet sweetly lifting the back of your hand up ever few minutes to press three quick kisses to the back of your hand in a show of physical love -- a reminder that your Bokuto Kotaro will always be there, no matter what.

[nanagoswife]

Please, Don't Go. - Chapter 17

Summary: More steps are made towards finally ending the years of torment.

W/C: 1.9k

Warnings: mention of torture, angst, mention of death

A/N: I am so sorry for the wait😅 and I apologise for this unedited piece of writing. I know that a certain part could've been written in more detail, but I can't explain why, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get it right, so I shortened it. You'll all probably figure out what I mean when you get there. Still, I hope you all enjoy😊

- - -

“How soon do you think this will happen if Anakin agrees?” Although you were happy for this to finally be over with soon, you couldn’t help but worry. The fact that Palpatine has even been able to hide his secret this long showed how dangerous he is and that’s without the horrifying stories Obi-Wan had told you. How he had been tortured repeatedly for any mistakes he had made. You didn’t want to think of it.

“I’m not sure. It really depends on the council and what they will say about it.”

You turned your attention away from him to the kettle that you were preparing for tea. It was partially so that you could do the task, but mainly to hide the concern that filled you. Even though it was useless, you didn’t want him to see it as well as feel it.

“Oh, darling,” he moved from his spot beside you so that he stood behind, wrapping his arms around your middle, placing a kiss on your cheek. “It will be fine,” he said quietly, softly.

“I just don’t want to lose you again,” you said shakily. Tears began to fill your eyes.

Ever so slightly, he pulled you closer to him for comfort. You could feel his heart against your back, steady and strong.

“You won’t ever lose me, no matter what. You know why?”

You shook your head, afraid of what your voice would sound like if you spoke.

“Because not even death will keep me from you. I will forever be with you. And if you ever feel like I’m not, take the kyber crystal and hold it as that will always be a part of me that will never leave.”

The tears that you were trying desperately to hold back now fell. Obi-Wan turned you around and easily wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

Closing your eyes, you placed one of your hands over one of his and took a moment to truly memorize the feeling.

“I promise this, Y/N,” Obi-Wan said as he rested his forehead against yours, “and this promise will not be broken. I love you, dearest. For as long as you are here, as long as Aldoken is here, I will never leave my family again.”

You nodded against him before you closed any distance and buried your face into his neck.

“I love you too.”

-

When you looked over at Obi-Wan, his leg couldn’t stop bouncing as a seemingly worried expression and blank stare filled his face. Although you had reassured him that Anakin would be thrilled to see him, Obi-Wan couldn’t stop. His hands were fisted together, creating a prop for his head.

“Obi,” you gently called out before crouching beside him. His attention snapped to you almost as if he was being caught daydreaming.

When you placed a hand on his bouncing knee, he put one of his own overtop, keeping his other hand fisted under his chin as the bouncing stopped.

His eyes immediately softened when they met yours but, like always, they still showed you everything. The worry, the nervousness, the excitement, the fear.

“Obi-Wan, my love, what’s wrong?”

“Are you sure he doesn’t hate me?” He said it so quietly that you nearly missed it. The blue ocean was trapped in a hurricane of emotions that seemed would never cease.

You gave him a comforting smile and brought your other hand to cup his cheek, his beard lightly tickling your skin, “I’m sure. He’s been burstin with impatience to see you, Obi-Wan. He misses you.”

Obi-Wan leaned into your hand and closed his eyes with a deep, shaky breath. When his eyes opened, the storm had died down and he no longer seemed as anxious as he was moments ago. Refusing to move the hand that was on top of yours on his knee, he used his other hand to take your hand to kiss your fingers, your palm, and then the pulsepoint on your wrist.

“What would I do without you?” he whispered against your delicate skin.

Before anything else could be said there was a knock at your door, drawing your attention to it.

When you looked back to Obi-Wan, you were surprised to see nothing but calm in his eyes. The only thing that gave away how he truly felt was the tension in his shoulders. Besides that, he looked composed and fearless.

“Ready?”

Drawing his gaze away from the door, he looked into your eyes. There was nothing but certainty as he gave you a small nod.

With a comforting smile, you stood, bringing Obi-Wan to his feet with you. Entwining your fingers with his, you lead him over to the door. This visit was for them, not you, so you gently nudged him ahead of you as you approached the door.

Obi-Wan looked back at you one last time before pressing the code for your door. When it slid open, Anakin and Obi-Wan both froze for a moment, a look of relief flooded Anakin’s face.

Before you knew it, Anakin was crushing himself into Obi-Wan’s arms. Obi-Wan easily returned it and held onto his former padawan like he would vanish into thin air. With how Anakin was gripping him, Obi-Wan knew Anakin felt the same.

“I knew you would come back,” Anakin said in a whisper which caused a light grin to cross Obi-Wan’s face.

After another moment, Anakin peeled himself away so that he could survey Obi-Wan. It always seemed to be like this every time. If he was hurt, then Anakin would always insist that he go get some form of treatment.

“Black doesn’t seem to suit you well, old man,” Anakin teased, which caused a relieved laugh from Obi-Wan. He had been so worried that Anakin would be mad, so this pit him at ease. The old banter was a comfort that he never knew he needed.

“Well, the light robes never really suited you either,” Obi-Wan retorted. Both laughed comfortably as Anakin agreed.

It didn’t take long before the two were back to the way they used to be. From your spectation, you noticed that Anakin wasn’t bringing up any dark memories too quickly, which was a good thing. You knew that you couldn’t push Obi-Wan yet, even if it seemed like he was back. If the wrong nerve was hit, he would shut down and perhaps never tell you.

The mood was light and enjoyable. You knew, as well as Obi-Wan, that it wouldn’t last too long. There was a matter that needed to be discussed.

After a comfortable silence after a couple of ours, you knew that was when it would be brought up. What gave it away was how Obi-Wan had grabbed your hand and met your eyes for a moment for reassurance, which you nodded to.

Anakin was looking slightly confused as he watched the exchange, “Anakin, I need to ask you something. A favour.”

“You want help to defeat Sidious,” Anakin stated, looking the most serious he has since he arrived.

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, averting his eyes to the floor in fear of the possible rejection. You squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort him, which earned you a small, grateful glance.

“I do, but it’s going to be hard for you to hear who it is,” Obi-Wan finally said when no one broke the silence. “And it will be even harder when I show you the proof.”

-

Anakin had been thrown into a stunned silence that had made Obi-Wan uneasy. By the way he shifted beside you, you could tell.

To your slight surprise, Anakin didn’t seem as surprised as you thought he would be. You knew that he was close to the Supreme Chancellor, yet you had noticed that, once Obi-Wan had turned, that he hadn’t gone to the man nearly as often. Had Palpatine said something wrong?

In the end, after some more discussion, Anakin had agreed to help and said that he would present this to the council.

You noticed Obi-Wan give a shutter of both relief and nervousness. Although you knew he was happy to be moving closer to finally stopping the Sith, you also knew that he doubted whether they would actually help or not. Obi-Wan was going to do this one way or another, but he wanted to make sure it would be done.

That had been nearly ten minutes ago. Anakin was gone which left you and Obi-Wan by yourselves. Aldoken was having a rare sleepover with Cody and some of the 212th. You knew Waxer was definitely one of them.

Obi-Wan had gone and sat down on the couch once again. Like he was just before Anakin had showed up, his leg was bouncing as his elbows rested against his knees, his gaze unfocused as his chin rested on top of his clasped hands.

Instead of calling out to him, you settled for sitting beside him. Being careful to not startle him, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

His leg stopped as he let out a sigh, closing his eyes as he relaxed at your touch. There was so much that was going on that you knew that Obi-Wan could only think of all of the possibilities. He was always prepared for anything to happen.

Now, though, he needed to relax. Although you always tried to stay positive, you couldn’t help but think that these will be your last days with him. So, you wanted to just forget everything and enjoy being together while you could.

After a moment, Obi-Wan moved so that his head was pressing against your chest. Instinctively, you wrapped one arm around his back while cradling his head with the other. To help further calm him, you stroked the familiar line through his hair which gained an immediate response of a contented sigh as he relaxed further.

“Do you think I’m being too rash about this,” he muttered to you suddenly.

For a moment, you froze, stopping your ministrations as the question surprised you. He tilted his head just enough to look up at you and you could see the doubt swirling in his eyes.

Before you spoke, you resumed your movement through his hair which earned a deep breath of comfort from the man you love.

“No,” you started quietly. “I know you, Obi. I know you’ve put a lot of thought into this and you wouldn’t have asked Anakin for help if you didn’t need it.”

You tilted your head enough so that you could just meet his eyes from his resting place against your chest. This time, the doubt was duller but it was still there.

“I believe in you, Obi-Wan. I love you. And I know that you can do this. All you need to do is believe in yourself. That’s what will help you win.” You stayed silent for a moment before continuing, “Whatever you do, at least don’t lose hope.”

Obi-Wan took another deep breath as he nodded against you. When you caught a glimpse of his eyes, there was no more doubtful twinge. Just warmth and love radiating from them as he briefly met your gaze.

- - -

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05

[mintseesaw]

Aurora | 1

aurora - n. dawn Pairing: jungkook!general x reader!princess Genre: angst, fluff, historical au, joseon dynasty au, established relationship au, secret love affair au Warnings: heavily themed angst, mentions of corresponding punishments for certain committed misdeed, cursing Word count: 7.5k Summary: A story which centers on a forbidden love in the midst of centuries-long battle of power and greed. Disclaimer: based on King Sejong’s time but is fictional and not historically accurate Note: If you are not familiar with korean historical setting, you may refer to the translations I provided at the end of some terms used in the fic that may sound unfamiliar to some.

one | two

*unedited

Fate is a mere imaginary force, perhaps, created by entities living in this world, as fictitious as happiness, as treacherous as love. While hope brings you a strong faith of anticipation to the uncertain, the endless cycle of waiting only gives you the bittersweet acceptance in return.

There was no regret behind the years of your wasted youth amidst the inescapable obligation of being an object of possession under a political truce— the truth that you have to live from the guise of a royal birth.

You kept your promise, and until time and your royal duty comes in between, you will stay faithful to your words.

Two years after ascending to the throne, King Namjoon started establishing ports and posts alongside strict military power on the borders of Joseon. However, the immeasurable extent of the rising mutiny on the northern border further pushed the ruler to multiply the military presence on each border, of which was kept hidden from the commoners to prevent stirring fear in his constituents.

The news spread like a wildfire inside the palace, and into the households of the government officials, bearing in mind the warning the message it carries, it being a confidential matter.

When the king made the official pronouncement, the princes, and military officials, alongside the ruler’s advisors, were all present in the courtroom.

Learning about the king’s decision, Prince Taehyung ought to keep the news from the princess— the youngest child of the present ruling queen, the Queen Mother, and the late king.

However, the unavoidable presence of the court ladies who are serving the royal family, made it seem difficult to hide the truth from you. 

Two days after the edict was released, one of the court ladies, who happens to be a second degree cousin of General Jeon innocently shared the information to you, not knowing it will affect you, greatly. Your relationship with him has been kept for a long time, anyway.

“W-What did you say?” The same court lady, who was currently serving you a cup of tea, freezes midair as she caught up the tone in your voice. As you notice the reluctance in her expression, you didn’t wait for her to repeat what you had clearly heard the first time.

You rose from your seat with urgency, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture toward them as you quickly strutted out of your chamber. Although shocked by your sudden action, the servants quickly caught up with you, tailing behind as you took the direction to your brother’s study.

Shortly after, you arrive before his study, Prince Taehyung’s servants immediately bowed to you as form of greeting.

The prince was occupied on his canvas, determined to finish the piece before the midnight rolls when he heard Officer Sung announced the arrival of his sister. The brush locked between his fingers as he was about to stroke its end on the canvas halted midair.

When the doors flew open, he was met with your frown and a clearly disturbed disposition. He stood, abandoning his piece of work, waiting for the servants to leave them alone inside before he began talking.

“What brings you at this hour, little flower?” He asks in a curious tone. Deep inside, he already had a clue why.

“You knew, didn’t you?” You whisper, choking the tears that were threatening to pour onto your cheeks.

Taehyung stares at you for a while, surveying the hurt evident on your face before deeply sighing.

“I understand it would affect you this way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? J-Jungkook… Tell me he isn’t part of the—“

There’s no use to keep it anymore when you already heard pieces of it. “The king designated him to lead the northern border.” He warily announces, although he knew it wouldn’t matter how cautious he’d reveal it because it would hurt you, regardless.

Your eyes widening, palms fly toward your mouth to cover your gasps, hearing the answer you hoped you wouldn’t hear.

You are aware of the suspected cases of mutiny on the borders and along the waters where traders and merchants meet. The political scholars do not keep these significant issues from you during your studying sessions, regarding the possibility of being a future queen of another nation, literacy in every field has also been supplied to you alongside your brothers, the princes and the king.

“Princess, it couldn’t be avoided. It’s Jungkook’s duty to protect our nation.” He tries to console, closing the distance to give a comforting hug.

“He is guarding the palace— the royal family… the king. Isn’t that a part of his duty?” You wept in his embrace, mumbling in despair, “He didn’t even tell me, do I not matter to him, anymore?”

“Hush, little flower. Of course, that punk loves you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t hesitate to leave the capital to carry out his duty.” He says, not releasing you. He could only hope he could take away the pain in your heart.

Among everyone living in the palace, it was only him who had witnessed how your love for his best friend has blossomed through time. Unlike Jungkook who had been admiring you from a far long ago, you shamelessly admitted your feelings for him when you were 14.

Several years later, Jungkook still owns your heart despite the complicated situation, and the path he chose to take only made it more twisted than ever. Jungkook’s father died while in his duty protecting the king against officials who once challenged the ascension. Following his father’s footsteps, he partook the military.

His decision deeply scarred you because it only means it will be impossible to marry him, unless the king has consented it. However, it is rare for a ruling monarch to allow such because it’ll only mean losing their birthright in exchange of their betrothal with a low-ranking official.

Little rendezvous, love letters and stolen kisses didn’t stop the two of you following Jungkook’s promotion as the general of the national defense a year ago. But today, the horrid thought of him being in imminent danger in the battlefield dreads you.

Prince Taehyung escorted you back to your chamber once you had calmed down. He didn’t want to leave you while you are grieving, but he figures you needed the time alone.

That night, you couldn’t sleep with the heaviness of your heart.

You need to see him.

“Your Majesty,” you softly greeted once you entered the courtroom, lowering your head with grace before lifting your eyes back up to the throne where the king was busy reading the council’s daily reports. 

He lightly nods his head, acknowledging your presence. “Princess, you should be resting by now.” It was late, and you initially went to his chamber only to realize that the king was still in the courtroom, fulfilling his duties.

“As you should, Your Majesty.”

The king smiled, listening to the delicate voice of his little sister. He realizes, he missed being graced your refreshing presence. He had been used to it before, you lurking around in the bookshelves in his study while he was occupied, searching for books which he had all read, asking him numerous questions about certain literary works you had grew fond of like himself until he was too tired to answer anymore. After ascending his throne, he is only able to see his family on special gatherings, unless they purposely visit him.

“Perhaps, you have something to tell your brother?” He inquires, his eyes remain on the scroll as they skim over the texts written in the paper.

With soft monotonous tone, you proceeded to speak. “If you’ll allow me, Your Majesty.”

“Go on,”

“I read a particular decree dated three days ago. I have questions, if you will hear me, Your Majesty.” You asserted generally to avoid suspicion from the other attentive ears inside the courtroom.

It was that time when he lifted his gaze to meet your nervous ones.

He turns to the eunuch who was quietly standing on your right, his side facing you. “Leave us.” Officer Han lifted his head, surprise to hear the sudden command of the king. He quietly obeyed, gesturing to the advisors to follow the king’s order.

“I see, you’ve learned about the news. I may have to order your teachers not to let you dwell much on these political matters. You are a delicate flower in our family and I still wish to witness you blossom more.” It may be necessary for you to have a clear overview on the politics for your future fate, but the king would want you to enjoy your time as the princess in your own home before you’re married off to another prince.

“I appreciate your care, Your Majesty.” You lower your head, lips quivering.

King Namjoon leans his back on his seat, scrutinizing the figure in front of his throne. It was not too hard to recognize the state you’re in, similar to the officials he meets here when they are being questioned.

“Princess, tell me what bothers you.” There, he used his brotherly tone, the one which used to be his way to coax you to open up to him before.

You stayed silent, thoughtful on how to address the purpose of your visit. It took a while before you gain the strength to utter the name of the man you dearly love. “General Jeon… w-will lead the north?”

Hearing your words, the king’s shoulders tensed. “We have talked about this before. Did you defy your brother to proceed your affair with General Jeon?” His expression hardens at your silence.

“I-I…” You stammer, eyes wide innocently.

He throws the scroll on his table, now fully directing his attention to you, drawing a long sigh like your father once did, when you were once caught wandering outside the palace.

“You did,” He confirms to himself in a whisper, before his head tilted back as his eyes momentarily closed to control his frustration. “I must punish General Jeon on your behalf.”

Your eyes widened, chills running down your spine. “Your Majesty!” You exclaimed, horrified by the king’s conclusion to the matter.

“The Great Queen Dowager is protective of you. Grandmother will not accept an order from me to punish you, herself, for your misbehavior. You are not to get involved with any man, ______.” He reminds you. Not only was the queen dowager adores the lone princess, but their father, as well.

You are aware of that. Perhaps, it was the reason why the palace, your supposed home, became a sickening form of solitude for you. You wish you had been treated the same way as your brothers, while they grew up in a rough setting as a form of their training, you envy their mental toughness aside from their trained physical skills and strength. Perhaps, it was the reason behind your father’s endearment for you, little flower. Because you’re a weak princess.

Being favored is not a privilege when you are expected to be good at all costs. Jungkook, despite the social status that separates you both, became your sense of euphoria. He allowed you to see the glimpse of his life, the horrible and ugly side of his life. He showed tenderness in his affection towards you, but he sees you beyond your status. 

Jungkook, leaving the capital to guard the borders without the assurance of making it out alive, will cause you in complete desolation.

A dull but prominent numbness spreads on the king’s heart as the air fills the suffocating silence, while seeing your welled-up eyes.

“Why the tears, little flower? You are making me feel like I’m a heartless brother.”

“Can you.. Can you stop him from leaving?” You falter, swallowing the lump forming in your throat.

“General Jeon already knew his fate, Princess. He will eventually leave the palace to be where he is— on the battlefield. Just like you are here in the palace. Why you have hoped in pursuit of his love, is beyond me.”

The tiny hope you carry before you have entered the courtroom vanishes along the feeble strength you gathered to control your emotions. 

Even with your crumbling facade, he continues to speak, choosing to be a wise king rather than your caring brother. “Heed my advice when I tell you your connection with General Jeon will do more harm to him than to you. The inner court will always be merciful to you, but the state council will not be as forgiving to the young general.”

The truth struck you harshly more than ever, pain swallowing you whole as the impact of his words resonated within you. You waited until the king dismissed you.

It was wrong from the start, you have hoped for it. 

Jungkook will never be yours.

In a rare circumstance, Jungkook has been staying in the Jeon household for three days straight. Because of his post at the north, the king was kind enough to give the soldiers some time off their duties, as if it is a farewell for their families. In Jungkook’s case, he doesn’t see it as his death. He sees it as his duty to protect the nation, and he’ll make sure to come back for his family, for you.

Jungkook is wiping his sword clean using a piece of rug cloth, killing some time off before coming to the palace to visit you in particular, a bunch of freshly picked peonies from his mother’s garden lying beside the stool where he was seated. He will give it to his princess when the sun sets under the guise of seeing his friend, Prince Taehyung.

His time off was duly spent through fulfilling heavy chores to help his mother. While she bought food supplies and new sets of threads and fabrics in the market for her weaving, he carried her purchases. After that, he did small repairs on the house to strengthen its foundation and trekked to the mountain to gather firewood, and luckily caught a few freshwater fish from the river along his way home.

He didn’t mind that his body is now covered with excessive perspiration or his grey faded clothes are stained with all kinds of grease and dirt there are. But when he caught sight of the familiar petite figure dressed in a simple, ivory colored hanbok in front of the household, he wished he had cleaned himself up when his mother prepared his warm bath earlier.

The thought, however, was briskly replaced with worry. 

His wide doe-like eyes locking with yours. His long and glorious legs only took a couple steps to reach your hand and drag you inside before closing the wooden barrier from any possible prying eyes.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” It was the first thing Jungkook has said to you since you arrived. You’ve been standing there awkwardly for a while, watching him as he was in a deep reverie, hesitant to come inside in case Jungkook has other guests inside his home.

Your lips jutting in an adorable pout, “You didn’t receive my letter?”

You had no intention to raise the matter to him, because you’d like for him to believe you’re clueless so you could make the most of your time with him filled with good memories.

His frown slowly turns into an endearing smile at the cute display in front of him. “I did, I was supposed to meet you there. You can’t be outside, especially…” He stops mid-sentence for a moment, “I mean, you should have told me prior if you wanted to go out of the palace.” He gently prompts as he keeps a good amount of space in between, much to your displeasure.

You try to reach out his grease covered large hands, only to look up at him when he quickly steps back, maintaining the distance.

“What is the matter?” You question out of confusion.

He turns his head to the side, avoiding your curious stare. “I have not taken a bath, yet, Jagi.” He mumbles under his breath.

A smile slowly spreads in the corners of your lips, as a bubbly giggle resonates on your throat, “It’s alright, you don’t smell that bad.” You taunted, covering your nose with your palm to tease him.

“Y/N,” He whines, raising his arms alternatively to smell himself. The act only made you laugh even more, to which earns a playful glare from him.

“I’m kidding,” you managed to say when you finally recovered from your laughter, plastering a sweet smile which he could never resist.

He sighs dramatically, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Can I stay here?” You suddenly ask.

He stops in his tracks, uncertain if he heard you right. “What?”

“You’re right, I want to go out of the palace for a while. Will you accommodate me as a guest?” You shyly continue.

Jungkook stares at you in wonder. “Y/N, you know I’d gladly have you here if I only can.”

Maidens are not supposed to stay with an unmarried man under a roof, especially a princess like you.

“No one will know.” You try to convince.

“Your brother?” He prods, referring to the younger prince, his friend.

You didn’t say anything, avoiding his gaze.

“Love, you’re going to put us both into trouble.” He sighs, but silently giving in to your request.

Catching a beautiful bunch of flowers in sight behind him, you quickly averted your attention into it to change the subject, realizing there’s no point of pushing it further if he would not allow you to. “A-Are those flowers? Can I have a look?”

His eyes follow you as you’re left mesmerized with the flowers, similarly like he is to you. “They’re yours, love.”

“They are?” You repeated, lost in daze at the beauty of the light colored pink petals of the peonies.

Jungkook didn’t attempt to raise your previous concern, silently admiring you from a short distance. However close his proximity to you, it does not change the fact that you’re a thousand miles within his reach.

He’d never thought in his lifetime you would spare a single look at him, one day when you accidentally saw your brother and him were practicing through a sword fight. And when he thought it was enough for him, aware that you knew he existed, you bravely confessed your admiration to him weeks after.

Of course, he knew it was just a simple crush. He couldn’t entertain the infatuation you had with him because you were still young and your feelings would soon waver when you’ve passed the adolescence period. You would realize he’s far from the prince charming that you ought to marry, someday.

Perhaps, the memory he bears of the day he came from his military training could forever be engraved in his mind.

A bunch of letters sat on the table in his small room, to which his mother must have kept them there the entirety of his absence. Each letter was intentionally left unaddressed from the sender.

He knew. Just by the neat penmanship that indicates the person being literate, and the letters sealed inside envelopes in lavish colors tell him that the letters were from someone in a noble family. But what easily brought him to the conclusion of you having been sending the letters to his household while he was away is an image of a little peony grazing each paper just below the written intricate texts. Only the royal family and the attentive servants in the palace knew you’re the king’s favorite child, the little flower he calls in the royal family.

He’s not as fond of reading literary works like yourself. Like Taehyung, he sees paintings and portraits as the closest thing he could comprehend of in terms of art. 

It took him days reading every single one of the letters, and weeks before he had come to comprehend the underlying messages of the passages deliberately written in a figurative language enough to not only make his heart hurt but his head as well.

You longed for him.

The same fucking way he has been to you. There was not a single day that passed without the thought of you crossing his mind through the years. In this time of war, he should not entertain that side which could stir weakness from him. He should be a wise soldier, and for him to be one, he should forget you and anything that reminds him of you.

Through time, he had learned to admire you from afar while intentionally avoiding your longing stares to have you thinking that he doesn’t return your affection on him. He could not let you be aware of his personal struggles in order to keep a safe distance from you, he does not have the heart to make you suffer because of the hierarchical disparity between you.

Almost a year before the king died from an illness, you were abducted by foreign rebels who had had their way inside Joseon to gather and urge commoners from the inside to stir rebellion.

The danger you had come to witness yourself at a young blossoming age led him to reconsider his thought of allowing his feelings to be confessed to you. It would not last, he reassured himself. When your feelings for him have been exhausted, soon enough you would learn to forget him.

However, he only made the situation worse. Because for the past two years, nothing has changed, making it only harder for him to let you go. His dark, selfish thoughts buried deeply in him always manipulate him to persist, even if it means you will lose the life you have, your birthright.

~

After he had urged you inside a small room to rest while he cleaned himself up, he took you into the capital market. Sweet delicacies inside a folded linen clasp in his hand which he bought prior to arriving in front of a women’s shop.

The pure admiration visibly painted in your face over the numerous variety of hair accessories, and pieces of jewelry laid in front of you seemed to do the trick for you. He had not ever brought you here and he regretted not taking you here before.

Over the cumulative noises from the bustling crowd, you heard Jungkook chuckle. You took a peer from your side.

“You can buy anything you like.” Jungkook encourages, not knowing the internal war zone going on inside your mind as you survey the most beautiful things you have ever laid eyes on. These bargain accessories may not be as equally expensive as your own collections, but they are surprisingly immaculate and exceptional pieces.

You sadly smile, “I didn’t think of bringing any....”

“You have me.” He beams, showing several gold coins above the few notes inside his hand. Your face lights up.

By the time you were through, he barely had any currency left in his pocket. He could have felt remorse by how much all the accessories and jewelry you purchased had cost, but the satisfied smile painted on your face as the two of you walk hand in hand while eating the sweets is enough to make himself shrug away your lavish spending.

Jungkook recalls your request. The large and calloused pads of his fingers clutch your wrist, tugging your hand softly. “You’ll go back to the palace, right?”

Your lips only protruded, saying nothing to him as you kept going forward even when he already stopped walking.

“Y/N,” He tries to call but you only pretend not to hear anything. Three long strides were enough to catch up with you, taking one of your arms to turn you in front of him in a subtle manner. 

Sighing, you choose to break your silence. “I’ll find somewhere to stay—“ Jungkook already knew what you were about to say, so he cut you off.

“There’s no way I will let you out of my sight. It’s dangerous here.” He stubbornly argues back.

You weakly smile, “It doesn’t mean it’s safe there, either.”

His forehead creases, eyebrows meeting in a form of line.

The palace is the most heavily guarded state in the nation, but danger does not only pertain to swords and the opposition. It could mean other things, particularly the harm that could be inflicted among the royal family. 

“What do you mean?”

“You know what it is like inside,” you briefly asserted.

Jungkook pulled you into his embrace. He is aware of the extreme constraints inside the palace.

“I’m here, you can tell me what is bothering you.” He mumbles beside your ear, his hold tightening in your silence. If only he could change his fated obligation. Leaving you would be as painful as being physically inflicted with deep wounds, only that this feeling would not heal any time soon.

“I just feel lonely. It’s natural to feel that way when you’ve been isolated since the day you were born.” You expressed, meaningfully.

“The cruel world does not deserve a pure soul like you, my love.” He murmurs breathlessly.

You pulled back, stepping away to peer up from him. Jungkook caught the look on your face.

“Jungkook—“

“You’re not going to look for another place to stay. You’re out of your mind if you even think I’ll let you alone by yourself.” He says in a dismissive tone.

He’s right, after all. You would not want him to be punished if anything were to happen to you.

It was already dark while the two of you were still left along the way toward his household. The shining stars from your view give the moonless sky a breathtaking image of darkness and sparkles. You tug his hand, as you two reached the end of the woods, encouraging him into the nearby lake you recall seeing earlier.

The protective instinct of him surveyed the grass filled expanse before he succumbs to your offer. Through the peaceful atmosphere of the nature, a soft giggle naturally releases from you.

Jungkook didn’t speak for a moment, allowing you to enjoy the majestic beauty above. If it weren’t for him, the pitch black surrounding would somehow frighten you. The breezes swishing around and through your bodies get colder as the night progresses.

Through the darkness, Jungkook could barely make out the features of your face, but the subtle shivers coursing through your body didn’t go unnoticed to him. When he clasped his hands around yours, he felt the freezing contact of your skin through his palm. This led him to shift on his seat, pulling you on his lap.

“Jungkook…”

He only hums in response, rubbing your hands together through his palms.

“Can we stay here forever?”

Jungkook‘s chuckle resonates against your back, “If you want to, we can. I’ll even give you the stars from up there.” He jests.

Entwining your fingers with his, you leaned back in his embrace. “What if…”

“Hmm?” He encourages you, attentively waiting for what you will say next.

In a subtle, almost, innocent tone, you asked. “What if I want to be your wife?”

The answer is already there, dictated by your birthright and his duty. Truly a hopeless case. But it wasn’t patience that made you wait for him for years. It is hope, an endless amount of hope that led you where you are now. Him, your soulmate in this lifetime, and the truth as the main conflict of your life.

“You may lose everything because of me. You will hate me for taking you away from your life, jagiya.”

“I wouldn’t waste my time waiting for so long if I only care about the life I have. I’m ready... I’m willing to change if you will… h-have me.” You mumble in grief.

He didn’t answer for a while, letting his tightening hold around your body to speak for itself. It took all of him not to beg for your hand, and locked you in a secret engagement because it’s the only way he can make you exclusively his.

He doesn’t want to let you go.

Jungkook never uttered a word about his departure and you silently wonder if he will ever. Perhaps, that’s how it should end for the two of you. This may be the last time you’ll see him.

You really wanted to stay longer, here, even with the darkness sucking tiny hints of light as the night progresses. However, your stubbornness failed to match his persistence to get you home, in his own home. 

Once you two have gone inside his home, the thought of his mother and why she’s not around crossed your mind, though you chose not to speak of it while he prepares the dinner for the two of you. It was not long after you two had eaten and finished the stew and rice he cooked.

Your cheeks heated at the sight of him preparing your bath, embarrassed by the fact that you barely know a single chore other than preparing refreshment and herbal teas. Inside the vicinity of his home, Jungkook continues to disappear and reappear from here and there in long, rapid strides. You didn’t know what it was all about, confused at his sudden engagement to the chores. Until he laid the folded linen in your lap, that you silently realized it was for a fresh set of clothes.

He was attentive and patient as he made himself occupied while he waited for you to finish cleaning up. You’re not used to doing this in a different setting and you were relieved enough that you had dressed up alone without making a fool out of yourself.

When you opened the miniature door in the small quarter he showed you earlier, you found him on the floor crouching, preparing for your sleeping cot.

“Is this to your liking? It is not as comfortable as the beddings in your chamber and it’s—“

“Jungkook, it’s perfectly fine. Stop worrying,” You reassure, a smile slowly creeping into your face.

“It’s your first time to sleep outside—“

“It’s definitely not my first time.”

He stops dead in his tracks, blinking. “What?”

Amused by the growing confusion on his face, you prompt. “Will you stay longer?”

Jungkoo’s eyes widened a little, rubbing the back of his neck, nervously. Stuttering, “I-I… Y/N, you’re putting me in an awkward situation.”

You look at him incredulously. “We’ll only talk, you pervert.”

He tilts his head to the side, “Did you just call me…” He trails but you quickly cut him off.

“No, I meant handsome. General Jeon “Handsome” Jungkook.” A sweet smile stretches on your face.

His face slowly twists into a wide smile, shaking his head at your sweet but teasing answer. “You’re such a naughty princess.”

Two days later, the queen was bewildered to find the princess’ chamber empty. Every single servant under your care was interrogated. No one can tell where you were.

You were abducted, again. That was the only conclusion they could come up with in your unnoticed disappearance.

Except for Prince Taehyung. It would not take your servants two days to realize you’re missing. Unless, you have given them a specific order to hide your whereabouts from your family.

He immediately mounted his horse to rush to the Jeon household, to inform his best friend about the disappearance of the princess.

Somehow, along his way, there was a tiny feeling there that tells him Jungkook knew where his sister is. But seeing it himself, with his own pair of eyes, as the two of you were dazed with your own worlds, he was betrayed by his friend. He rushed towards their direction and swung his fist into Jungkook’s face.

A shriek broke out from you in utter surprise. With your trembling body, you struggle to get in between the strong, towering bodies.

“Orabeoni!”

“Fuck you, Jungkook! I trusted you!” Seethed Prince Taehyung, his hands fisting Jungkook’s collar.

“Orabeoni, please, stop it! It’s my fault,” you gasp, weeping helplessly. Taehyung was panting from anger.

“It’s all on me! It’s me who should be spanked!”

You exhale harshly, shuddering at the thought of receiving punishment from the Queen Dowager, but it’s what you deserve after putting Jungkook into this situation. And as if a magic wand was tipped in his direction, Prince Taehyung instantly stopped in his tracks, tilting his head to the side.

He releases Jungkook with a hard push, enough to make Jungkook almost lose his balance. Jungkook’s strength is incomparable. Compared to the prince in front of him, he was physically more built brought by his experience in the military. But the words that he just heard suddenly made his legs jerked, and as he regained his balance he caught a glimpse of fear in your eyes.

He couldn’t take it.

The prince stared at you. “You came to him?”

Jungkook steps in, “I took her in.” He attempts to shift the attention away from you.

Prince Taehyung darted his eyes back at him. “Shut the fuck up.” He sneers at the young general. Jungkook, however, does not seem fazed by his anger. He had seen a worse case than the wrath of a warm-hearted prince. 

Jungkook’s composed disposition didn’t sit well with the prince, to which is a stark comparison to the expression you transparently give away.

Clouded with anger toward the friend he has trusted all his life, Prince Taehyung dragged you out of the state.

“Let’s go,” he utters in a harsh tone.

Jungkook watched you helplessly as you’re being taken away from his reach. He could easily fight the prince to keep you safe in his home, but it would only worsen the situation. He had already anticipated the mess he had coaxed you to partake in, but not the ire of the prince. 

“Orabeoni, it’s not his fault. Please, don’t direct your anger at him. I wanted to see him before he leaves.” You attempted to explain while he continued to drag you away, far away from Jungkook’s manor.

He frowns, clearly dismayed by your escape, “You should have told me, I could have done something to cover you up.”

“I didn’t want to drag you into this mess.” You say with guilt seeping through your tone. His large strides gradually halted, turning sharply o face you.

“He took advantage of your weakness, Y/N! How do you think I’d react to see you with him all this time? In his home? Gods, were you not thinking? Do you know how your stupid actions would turn back on you?” He gritted, unable to control the emotions manipulating his mind.

He would later regret losing his control but he needed to say something, after what he had done for the two of you. He did his best to protect you and this affair. You just wasted all of your chances. It’s nearly over now.

“Im sorry. He didn’t. I-I... we didn’t do anything.” You blinked, finally realizing the mayhem you had caused.

“You should be, everyone will assume otherwise.” The prince only whispers through the air before bringing you home to the grieving queen.

When the royal prince and princess entered the palace, the queen’s eunuch who was awaiting for their arrival, immediately relayed the queen’s order to the prince. You didn’t know what it was about, until he led the way into the queen’s quarters.

In your admittance to her chamber, you were met with her anguished state, the servants immediately leaving the three of you inside to give you privacy.

Guilt courses through you, painfully listening to her worries. Her soft cries welled up your own . And you’re thankful that your brother was with you the whole time. Amidst his fury, he’s the one between you two who is in the right state of mind to console the queen while you were mentally breaking down.

Despite the queen’s effort to keep your escape a secret from the palace, the king had immediately learned of your return. Soon after, Officer Han came to her quarters carrying the king’s message.

You may have anticipated the king’s disappointment over your reckless action prior to entering his chamber. But nothing could have prepared you of what you would have your eyes to endure as the doors reveal the vicinity of the chamber.

Color immediately drains out of your face, your shrinking strength stutters your steps on your entry. Jungkook remained unmoving on his knees under the mercy of the king’s death glare.

The deafening silence becomes too much to bear, agonizingly waiting for the king to tell his piece of predictive condemning of your recklessness.

King Namjoon’s immeasurable dismay over learning the rumors has affected his rational capability to keep his focus on the more disturbing issues in the nation, particularly the rising tension in the borders. This matter should be the least of his concern, but his brotherly instincts ruled out the wise king in him. He deeply cares for his family, that includes his sister.

Your eternal faith over the young general’s affection may only validate his reasoning of refusing betrothal in a similar situation from his parents. The late king dearly loved the queen all his life, and until his last breath, his mother’s welfare was his dying wish, but to his surprise, it also included the princess’ happiness.

Seeing you in the trouble you have willingly created, he wondered what his father would do if he were alive. But he needed not to think further, because it is without a doubt that his father would be merciful to his favorite child. Perhaps, he should set his father’s wish aside for now and allow the princess to reflect on her lack of regard to her royal duty.

After a moment of deafening silence, King Namjoon’s painfully calm voice fills the frightening atmosphere.

“I warned you about this, princess.” He begins, the grief in his eyes flashes in a second before it vanishes with the coldness of his stare.

“Do you understand the gravity of your actions, Y/N?” He prods further, and somehow, his tone strangely sounds like the younger prince bearing the same amount of agony and frustration.

Your eyes only remained glued on the flooring, frightened to even dare speak or meet his eyes. You are already aware that what you did has stirred rumors inside the palace. And being here only meant you and Jungkook will face the inevitable consequences.

“General Jeon, I hope you understand my disapproval of you is nothing personal. I will make this easy for you as a relevant official in the military. I will let this thing go if you deny the rumors that you took advantage of the princess’ vulnerability.”

Your breath shortens, eyes squeezing shut, mortified by the severity of the situation. A weird feeling sits there in the corner of your heart, disturbing your thought process.

Despite the predictable outcome, Jungkook did not regret it ever happening, or allowing it to happen. However, your well-being matters to him other than his selfish reasons. To preserve the purity of reputation from the scrutinizing eyes of the palace women is all he cares of, as these predators could challenge your title for their personal interests.

Barely affected by the king’s wrath, he embraced his fate in the hands of his nation’s ruler. And as he finally spoke, he only proved your instinct right.

“My apologies, Your Majesty. I will gladly accept any punishment you may order, but I cannot deny that I took the Princess in my household.” Jungkook answered with a controlled tone.

Your eyes darted back at him, appalled by the manner of his admission as if it were his pure intent, “Jungkook! That’s a lie, I came to you!” You quickly interfered, convincing him otherwise. Panic audibly hinted in your voice, and even with your silent plea for him to take back his words, he dares not spare a single glance back to you.

With trembling hands, you turn to face the merciless king. You wish you could see the brotherly side of him, the one that cares for you. The one in front of you is nothing like your brother, but a king you wish he wasn’t.

Your lips quivering as you protest, “I chose to flee on my own accord, Your Majesty. He didn’t force me.”

But even with your words, his dark scrutiny was already fixated at the young general.

“Very well, then. Your betrayal to your king would only conclude your willful commitment to treason. Am I right General Jeon?”

Despite tracing no single emotion in his expression, his chilling voice manifests his anger.

Your frightened eyes went round. “Jeonha!”

Without hesitation, Jungkook willingly succumbs. “If it is your will, Your Majesty.” He expresses, refusing to see the horror in your eyes. If it means you will be pardoned from this mess, he will accept anything on your behalf.

A sharp gasp left your mouth, “J-Jungkook, w-what are you saying? You had nothing to do with this, it’s my fault—“

“Han!” You hear the king’s booming voice that made you stop.

Upon the eunuch’s entry, the king concluded your fate. “Escort the princess in her chamber. You are to make sure she doesn’t leave her chamber until I tell you. No one is allowed to see her but me, do you understand? I will deal with the queen dowager, myself.”

The shimmering tears in your eyes trickle down through your cheeks, “Orabeoni,” you helplessly plead, meeting his sharp glare, abhorring his callousness.

You could care less if you would be given a heavy spanking from the queen dowager, but Jungkook certainly didn’t commit treason. The king is not a fool to not understand that the scandal was caused by your selfishness but he chose to dismiss the truth.

Your eyes eagerly sought for Jungkook’s as you were being taken away. You need to see him, at least, for the last time. Jungkook didn’t turn on your way, not even when you disappeared from their sight.

After you were escorted out in the courtroom, the king simply ordered General Jeon to go back to his household and prepare for the military’s forthcoming departure. Even with utter confusion, Jungkook left the palace bearing the last image he had caught glimpse of you— he only hoped his last memory of you wouldn’t be replaced by your beautiful, bright smiles. He would have his way to see you, again.

The catastrophe has shattered you into pieces, and as painful as it deeply wounded you, you didn’t know it was all part of the king’s act to teach you a lesson.

The palace became tense for the past few days. True to the orders of the king, no other members of the royal family were able to reach out to the princess. Not until the worry of the queen became too much for her to bear. Realizing that the king does not have an intention to lift the punishment just yet, the queen begged the king, his son, to allow you to serve the extent of your punishment in her state in the east where your maternal grandparents live.

Whether or not the king has approved of it, you have no power to defy his order, regardless.

Few hours had passed since you had departed from the palace, the moving palanquin seemed to have stopped, until it flew open, revealing your personal servant and from behind— Jungkook!

Your servant stepped back, giving Jungkook a room to see you closer. What is he doing here?

“Jungkook, w-what are—“

“Hush, my love. I’m alright.” He reassures in between rapid intakes of breaths.

“You’re leaving…”

He surveys your face, brushing your stubborn tears away with his fingers, frowning. “I am, but your tears are piercing my heart, jagiya. You’re crying as if I won’t come back.”

You have high hopes he’ll survive the battle, but there’s clearly no hope for the two of you. You could sacrifice your title for him, but you can’t afford any adversity coming back at his tail for your selfishness.

“You’ll wait for me, Y/N?”

I will only give you misfortune, you silently thought further.

His forehead rests against yours, his eyes clenching shut as a painful smile stretches on his face. “I know… I understand you can’t. But I’d like to think you’ll be waiting for me when I return.”

With your harsh multiple nods, a sob uncontrollably releases from your throat, and another, and another, until the pain in your chest trickles up through your throat that your cries couldn’t be stopped any longer.

“Please, come back to me, Jungkook. I-I… I’ll be a good princess. I will go to the temple everyday to pray for you. And… If you… If you realize you don’t want me anymore— it’s fine,” you weakly smile, “I just need you to come back alive... for your mother, for Taehyung—“

“Marry me.”

Your heart suddenly stops, “W-What?”

“Be my wife.” Jungkook repeats with firm persistence.

“Jungkook, h-how— you’re leaving…” You stammer with the right words. He can’t, no serving military soldier in Joseon can marry the princess. Your brother made it clear to you.

But for the first time, Jungkook lied and promised you his world, the only thing you will never have in this lifetime. “When I return, I’ll marry you, if you’ll have me.”

With all the strength left in you, you nodded. “I’m yours, Jungkook.” You promised back, failing to recognize the obligation it weighs in your future.

Jungkook plants a longing, bittersweet kiss in your lips before he parts from you. Your eyes attentively watch his figure skillfully vanish from your sight.

I’ll wait for you.

terms

orabeoni - endearment used for older brother/sister jeonha - your majesty inner/internal court - a separate body in the palace governed by the female members of the royal family responsible to control the palace women’s affairs to which the king cannot intervene about queen mother - endearment used for the king’s mother/queen dowager great queen dowager - mother of the deceased king palanquin -  a covered litter/large box with two horizontal poles carried by humans as a means of transportation

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mintseesaw © 2020

credits to the rightful owner (Jeesung Kim) of the image used