#sorry i just. saw something that annoyed me

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[lavandulawrites]

Cares

Yandere Kinich x reader

This idea came to me when suddenly and I just had to write it down asap

Synopsis: Ajaw has finally found someone he considers his friend. He is however not the only one. The normally arrogant dragon, finds it fascinating how Kinich is spiralled deep into love and obsession.

Masterlist

Warnings: written in Ajaw’s point of view, Ajaw sees reader as both a friend and a motherly figure, murder, dismembering, Kinich is both down bad and insane, Ajaw cares (?!), drugging, abduction

Word count: 1058

Ajaw found the black haired man to be extremely annoying. He rarely showed any signs of hurt by his remarks and he put him in timeout way too often. He was in other words stupid and a sorry excuse of a man. Ajaw could feel himself greying in anger at the thought of his dismissal. You however, were different. You were kind (nauseating so) and you always brought Ajaw tasty snacks (as he deserved naturally). You entertained him in various means, unlike a certain useless man.

You were the only human Ajaw tolerated. And he made it known to you. For that’s how kind the Almighty Dragonlord was. To both his dismay and his curiosity, he was not the only one who thought highly of you. Oh, far from it.

Ajaw tried to stay out of human concerns as much as possible (it was after all offensive to his greatness to be a associated with humans), but he found it fascinating how much Kinich cared for you. He would always bring you food if you had forgotten to bring any, put on sunscreen for you (Ajaw found it gross how Kinich’s face reddened at the feel of your skin, he could sometimes swear he could see him wetting his lips like a hungry dog. Disgusting), take you on picnics and buy you gifts. The great dragon never got such nice things from him, even when he had been on his best behaviour.

When Kinich had managed to persuade you to try bungee jumping with him, Ajaw had for the first time in his life not had the desire to cut the rope and let you fall straight down with a splat. It was a weird feeling.

Conflict always seemed to rise whenever you were conversing with someone who wasn’t Ajaw nor Kinich. Ajaw was only offended that you speared another human your time instead of bringing him snacks, but Kinich was seething. His jaw was clenched so hard Ajaw could almost hear his teeth breaking in half. His fist tight causing the veins on his arms to stand out like a sore thumb. He clearly always intimidated the stranger enough that he or she left in a hurry. Had Ajaw not been as strong and amazing as he was, he would himself have been frightened.

Your naivety and kindness was something that clearly troubled his servant. He always worried about you and always came up with poor excuses to see you (be it meeting you or watching from the shadows). Normally would Ajaw not help him, no he would rather have sabotaged him, but since it was you he lend him his hand. You were clearly rather weak compared to the raven haired man and himself. Shorter than Kinich and not a fighter. Which was something the hazel eyed man seemed to appreciate.

Following you around became an everyday occurrence and Ajaw for once helped Kinich. When Kinich asked him for his help to orchestra a dangerous situation where he would come in and save the day, he didn’t think twice before agreeing.

He still wanted his body, but it was no longer his main focus. It was a strange shift in his behaviour, but not unwelcome. It was nice to have a friend after all.

Months had passed and both him and Kinich had gotten closer to you. It was clear as day to Ajaw that the ancient name bearer was head over heels. Especially when he caught him sniffing some clothes he had stolen from you. Ajaw never let that go and tormented him with it whenever he saw fit.

It was a lazy sunny afternoon when Kinich came barging into their home. His eyes were blown wide in rage and his limbs shaking. Ajaw was an expert in recognising blood thirst and Kinich oozed of it.

“The fuck are you barging in for, you useless fool?!” the dragon trumped his foot angrily on the air.

“Shut up, Ajaw. I need your help.”

“Don’t talk to the Almighty Dragonlord like that!! I should teach you a lesson! And why on earth should I help you?” he crossed his arms and raised a brow.

“It’s regarding [Name]” he didn’t need to say more for Ajaw to agree to help.

The forest was thick and dark. Mist covered the ground as far as they could see. Kinich had swung his claymore without his help and already ended the puny man’s life. That was he got for being a treat to your well being he had said. Ajaw had to agree.

Kinich dragged the body through the forest creating a bloody trail behind them. The metallic scent hung heavy in the air causing Ajaw to bare his teeth. Such an awful smell.

The man was as useless in death as he was alive. Heavy he was too, judging by the laboured breathing of the normally strong man.

The body was thrown on a makeshift table of old wooden planks. Thin fingers ran over the many knifes and cleavers in the worn knife roll. It was obvious to the yellow dragon that this wasn’t the first time Kinich had dismembered someone. It was a mystery just how many he had slain in the name of protecting you.

With a giddy smile, Ajaw watched as he lifted the sharp cleaver and started working. The bald easily cut through the flesh. With furrowed brows he worked around the bones with the precision of the most talented butcher. It was an eerie sight; the black haired drenched in blood.

After about an hour or so, he was finished. “Do you know of a good place to dispose of this?” he asked the dragon.

He watched through his sunglasses of your struggle. It was fascinating how you thought you could overpower the taller man in your drugged state. Kinich was clearly irritated which made the sight even more entertaining. It had been so fast. Before you know it you were drugged by the juice Kinich had so kindly offered you and brought home to the two of them. Not that Ajaw was on to complain. He found your company enjoyable and he even cared for you.

He couldn’t wait to see how this would unfold. What would happen first? Would you accept your fate or would Kinich finally, properly snap?

Only time would tell.

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 2

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 7.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here warnings: reader is mentioned to have long hair, mentions of food and alcohol please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part one >

It had taken you almost two entire weeks to work up the courage to talk to Mingyu again. He had been nice enough not to contact you first. No texts, no calls, and the two times you had bumped into him on campus — aka seen him across the street — he had nodded in greeting, but made no attempt to get closer.

You hated it, admittedly, but you had missed his presence. The annoying texts at inappropriate times, the way he would wave his arm above his head every time he saw you, like he was a kid seeing a friend after a long vacation.

You had no idea how to talk to him. You couldn’t just say haha, I’m sorry I didn’t remember you, even though I saw you every day for two years, you know how it is, right? without sounding like a complete and utter lunatic. And you didn’t even need Jeonghan to pull out his school photo album, which he absolutely did, to rub in your face how completely forgetful you were. The moment Mingyu said the words “she doesn’t remember me”, laughing a little, a somewhat embarrassed by the situation, it was as if the movie of your adolescence suddenly flashed through your eyes.

Every time you had seen him leave the gym, following Jeonghan and Seungcheol closely. At first, he was quiet, just observing everything and later talking to your brother only, and then he was laughing and making jokes along with everyone else. He was obviously loved by his teammates. You remember finding him handsome back then when he was much younger and wore clothes chosen by his mother. You never talked, it’s true, you didn’t even know his name, but you always knew who he was.

How you went from that moment to years later not remembering him, you didn’t know. That was a big mystery, and you had no idea how to answer.

You saw Mingyu leaving the building next to a girl. He smiled and gestured as he talked, clearly excited about the subject at hand. The girl next to him smiled broadly, her body leaning closer to his, despite the clear space between the two of them. She looked at Mingyu as if he had nailed the stars to the sky, as if he was the only reason the sun shone every morning.

You thought about giving up. You were going to interrupt something and you didn't want that, didn't want to draw any kind of attention to yourself, anything more than necessary.

And then Mingyu looked straight ahead, right in your direction. You closed your eyes for a second, forcing yourself to do exactly what you had planned to do from the beginning. Slowly, you raised your right hand in front of your body, at the height of your stomach, and waved. It was a quick and shy movement that you almost didn't want to do.

The smile on Mingyu's face grew huge as if he had seen something that had truly made him happy. He held his arm over his head, swinging it from side to side like a child; you couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across your lips, no matter how hard you tried. 

Mingyu strode across the lawn, the girl he was talking to was left behind, forgotten, calling out his name loudly, but he didn't look back once. She glared at you and you knew, at that very moment, that if you didn't have a single enemy in your life, you had just made one. 

He stopped in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his face. It took everything you had to do not to stare at his arms or to keep smiling. 

"Look, who's talking to me, in public" the teasing was clear in his voice. 

"Mingyu" his name came out of your mouth like a warning. 

Even though your tone didn't seem friendly, Mingyu smiled as if having heard a joke. It was almost a losing battle, not smiling while looking at him. You wondered exactly how things had changed, how one day you said "I don’t want to be seen with athletes in public places" to suddenly "talking to an athlete in public and still smiling".

“Sorry.” 

Although he was apologizing, you knew that there wasn’t a single bone, or cell, in Mingyu’s body that felt sorry while he was teasing you.

“I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t remember you.”

That’s why you had looked for him, why you had put all your pride aside and sent a message to Seokmin, asking — in the most delicate and unsuspicious way you could imagine — what Mingyu’s last class of the day was. When he seemed too excited about the whole situation, you didn’t even know that someone could be so excited through message, you were forced to ask him not to tell Mingyu that you had contacted him, because you still didn’t know if you would meet him because you had another appointment at almost the same time and might be late. It was a lie, there was nothing, but you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin to simply not tell him. 

“It’s okay, I’m sure I don’t remember someone I’ve seen every day for years either.”

You smiled, unable to control it this time, and Mingyu smiled along with you as he took another step closer to you. You knew he was too close, rumors would start spreading around campus any second. You knew you should take a step back, and put more space between you two, you knew you should stop smiling like a teenager. But you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything but stand there. 

“You’re making me feel even worse.” 

“Seriously, it’s okay. I’m not going to use it to blackmail you or anything like that.” 

You wanted to ask him what he could blackmail you with, but that was too close to the line of flirting, and that was an imaginary line you refused to cross with him — even though most of the ones you had set had already been crossed, one by one. 

“Thank you,” was all you allowed yourself to say. 

He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. 

“Now that you know you’ve been unfair to me, for years I might add, and I’ve been benevolent enough to forgive your mistake, could you please stop making my life difficult and let me do the assignment with you, without me having to beg?” 

You threw your head back, laughing out loud. You wanted to tease him, tell him that he was already begging and pleading, but again, too close to flirting. 

“Benevolent? Ah, a man’s ego.” was all you allowed yourself to say as you rolled your eyes at him. 

Mingyu smiled, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“Come on, cut me some slack” 

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes again. 

“Let’s coordinate our free time and meet up again.” 

“Great.”

“A little green bird told me,” you rolled your eyes before Kira could even continue the sentence, “that you were caught with a certain hockey player.”

“Oh, for the love of God.”

Kira had hooked her arm through yours, her voice cheerful. If voices could have shape and were visible to the naked eye, Kira’s would definitely be bouncing around you. She was almost doing it herself.

You knew someone would have seen you talking, you knew someone saw it and wasn’t happy about it at all, you were sure it was only a matter of time until people were talking about it. You just didn’t think it would be so fast. It had barely been five minutes since you had said goodbye to Mingyu, you knew that that gossip was an inherent part of student life, but the quality and speed were impressive.

“Oh, come on! Tell me what you two talked about, I want to know everything, down to the smallest detail.”

Your friend’s voice was soft, almost like a child whining next to you. Kira knew how much you hated it, more than that, she knew that you would tell her everything, every word, just so that she would finally stop making that pitiful face and that shrilling and completely irritating voice.

“We talked about what I talked about with you,” you sighed, “I apologized for not remembering him, he was annoying and in the end we agreed that I wouldn’t stop him from doing the assignment with me.”

“The little green bird also told me that you were smiling and that you were even blushing while you were talking to him.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. It was true that you had smiled while you were talking to him, you had given up on playing tough. But you were sure that you hadn’t blushed or embarrassed.

“That little bird of yours is wrong. I smiled, yes, but the rest I didn’t do”

“So you didn’t make out in the middle of campus? You didn’t laugh out loud, the kind that makes you throw your head back and close your eyes?”

You simply stared at her, standing in the same place, refusing to move an inch. The student's gossip was fast, impressive, and deceitful.

“Some guy saw you guys and told everyone about it. I was walking by and heard it. They weren’t exactly talking quietly.”

You nodded and started to walk again. You didn’t have anywhere to go, but you didn’t want to stay either. Even if it wasn’t true, you felt like everyone was staring right at you, like you were a circus attraction in the center of the red and white tent.

“Nothing happened. We talked, I smiled, he said something funny and I laughed. That was it.”

It was a little strange that everyone was at your house at the same time. By everyone, you mean Mingyu and Seokmin, who were there to continue the project, and Jeonghan and Seungcheol, the first because it was his house and the second for god knows what — your best bet was that he had come there to see Mingyu, but he could also simply have wanted to see you embarrassed, it was almost like it was his and Jeonghan's favorite pastime.

You hadn't bothered to tell Jeonghan that the two of them were going home with you after class, you were sure that if you had told him and asked him not to be there, he would simply ignore your request. Besides, the rabbit was out of the hat already, there was nothing left to hide. Seungcheol being there was a surprise, but Mingyu knew him too and you figured he had told Seokmin everything.

Seokmin's behavior was surprising. He had greeted Jeonghan and Seungcheol when he came in, chatted with them for a bit, and then sat down at the table with you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mingyu had scolded him and just how harsh he had been — though you didn’t think Mingyu and harsh were words that went together.

“Sorry about the other day,” Seokmin said. “I was just surprised.”

You shook your head. You had thought a lot about that day, about how you would have reacted in a very similar way if you had run into someone you were a fan of like that, at someone’s house from college. You had been taken by surprise, and that was one of the things you hated the most. You liked to have everything under control, to have all the cards in your hands, to know all the information before actually getting into a situation. You had made a bet by taking Mingyu and Seokmin home, and you lost. That had nothing to do with Seokmin.

“If I were his fan, I would have reacted the same way,” you assured him, not liking that he had become so quiet and introverted. “And look, they love the attention, so you can go as crazy as you want, you have my approval. And if they complain, you can talk to me.”

Seokmin laughed and turned his attention back to the book open in front of him, reading carefully and taking notes in the notebook next to it.

It wasn’t long before Mingyu entered the room too, still laughing a little at whatever he had talked to Jeonghan and Seungcheol about. He seemed distracted as he sat down and took his cell phone out of his pocket, placing it on the table, face down after checking the notifications.

It was impossible not to think about the conversation you had with Kira days ago, the fact that suddenly the entire college believed that you had hooked up because you had only talked for a few minutes. Could it have been gossip that had spread uncontrollably and thus taken on traits that had nothing to do with reality, or had Mingyu, in all his stereotype of dumb athlete and famous for being a womanizer, spread lies around, bragging about something that hadn't happened?

You hoped it wasn't the second option, not when hating someone for simply existing was just so much work, not when you had started to think he was a cool guy, not when every time you got a message from him you felt like an excited teenager seeing signs where there was supposed to be only a black screen.

"There's something I want to know," the voice came from the living room, distant at first, but getting closer with each syllable.

You were sure that this sudden approach from Seungcheol couldn't bring anything good. Especially when he had a cocky smile on his lips, the kind that you knew, just by looking at him, that he was not going to do anything worth of noticing and at any second someone was going to be embarrassed. And, in this case, you were sure that someone would be you.

Jeonghan was right behind him, his eyes showing that he didn’t know what it was about, but seemingly enjoying the whole situation.

“Seungcheol,” his name came out of your lips in a mix of warning and plea.

“When we were in school, you,” he stopped behind Mingyu, his hands on the younger’s shoulders as he leaned forward, “had the biggest crush on our dear youngest Yoon”

You closed your eyes and wished that someone, anything, would hit Seungcheol in the head with all its strength, to the point he would faint and no longer be able to open his mouth to say a bunch of nonsense.

You turned to Jeonghan, who seemed confused by the whole situation — having been completely taken by surprise by Seungcheol's revelations. His eyes went from you, to Mingyu, to Seungcheol, and back to Mingyu.

Mingyu was pale as if he had just seen a ghost, his eyes wide and his hands frozen in front of his body. The pen that was spinning between his fingers had rolled across the table and stopped in front of Seokmin, who was looking at the situation in complete shock.

“Do you still have a crush on her or is that a thing of the past?”

“Oh for the love of god, Seungcheol, shut up.”

Even Jeonghan, who loved a joke, a tease to the very last second, was uncomfortable with the situation. He didn't know where to put his hands or who to look at. Mingyu seemed to want to sink into his chair. Seokmin had his chin glued to his chest, his eyes completely focused on the open book.

“Dude”

Jeonghan slapped Seungcheol on the head, who was just laughing at the situation as if everything was a big joke to him and probably it really was. The only problem was that no one was laughing with him.

“That's a valid question! I'm sure you're curious too”

You pushed the chair you were sitting in back hard, the friction of the metal on the floor probably leaving marks that would be there forever.

“Seriously, what's your problem?”

You grabbed the hood of Seungcheol's coat and pulled him out of the room, while he complained and made a fuss.

“You're strangling me!”

You rolled your eyes.

“At least you'll stop talking shit”

You stopped only when you were close to the door and could reach the doorknob with your free hand.

“It’s just a joke!” he tried to defend himself.

“You don’t have the right to come to my house and embarrass my friends, so if you don’t know how to behave, you can leave.”

You turned your back to him for a second, just long enough to grab his bag from the couch and throw it into his arms.

“You can’t kick me out, it’s not even your house.”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Jeonghan?” you said without turning to look at your brother, your eyes never leaving Seungcheol.

“It’s her house, yeah.”

You raised your eyesbrows at him, mimicking him.

“See? Great, you can go now.”

Needless to say, the rest of the night had been pretty close to a funeral. Jeonghan had holed up in his room and you suspected he was either asleep or dead, because he hadn't made a single sound and hadn't come out for anything.

Mingyu didn't even dare to look at you, much less talk with you. A night that was already embarrassing enough because you still had college rumors swimming around in your brain had gotten even worse because, at some point during the night, Seungcheol had decided, in a not-so-casual way, to drop the bomb that Mingyu had a crush on you.

And no matter how much you thought about it, how many ways you tried to analyze and remember those years, it didn't make sense.

You were sure you had never spoken to Mingyu, that you hadn't spoken directly to him before. The first time you talked was a few weeks before, in college. Even if you didn't remember him, you were certain you hadn't of it. You always made a point of staying away from Jeonghan's teammates, your brother made a point of keeping them away too.

That old story, when one doesn't want to, two don't fight. And in this case, neither you nor Jeonghan had any interest in you getting closer to his teammates.

In your head, it didn't make sense. Seungcheol was just talking a bunch of nonsense because he could, because he knew you never had the urge to argue with him. With Jeonghan? Silly arguments were normal, you sent your brother to hell as easily as you fell asleep after a long day. But not with Seungcheol, because you knew he loved the fights, he had fun, you always chose to just let him talk until he got tired. It was one thing to tease you and another one, entirely too different, to do it with your friends.

Logically, you knew that at some point in the past Mingyu had been friends with him too, but you also knew that that friendship had died the moment Seungcheol graduated from school.

Seokmin was the only one who dared to say something, completely focused on the assignment, but it was obvious that he was trying to break the ice of the situation. Trying and failing.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Seokmin said as soon as he heard the sound of a door coming down the hallway and a second later Jeonghan walked towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s kinda late” Mingyu agreed and stood up.

There was no way to disagree with them, it was late and the mood had gone down the drain. Prolonging the situation would almost be a form of torture for the three of you.

“Sorry about Seungcheol”

You didn’t know what to do with your hands. You wished you had pockets so you could have somewhere to hide them, but the leggings and shirt you were wearing didn’t provide any hiding spots.

“It’s okay, really” Mingyu assured you “He’s always been like this”

Seokmin went into the living room, but you and Mingyu remained standing there, barely breathing. You wanted to ask if it was true, if he really had a crush on you, or if Seungcheol was just trying to annoy someone and chose Mingyu. You also didn't understand what he had said, about Seungcheol “always being like this”. Did he mean annoying or someone who teased his friends with embarrassing secrets? Either answer would be correct but you wanted to hear it from him.

You wanted to ask, but you didn't have the courage. If it was true, it was bad and if it was a lie, it was worse. If it was true, you would feel even worse for not remembering him right away. If it was a lie, it would be bad you had liked to hear, when you knew you shouldn't care.

“I don't know if it's a good time,” he said, “but there's a game on Friday. You could go and take Kira with you.”

You were shaking your head before he could even finish speaking.

“It can’t, I already have a thing already” 

“Oh, okay” he nodded and turned to the living room. “Bye, Jeonghan.” 

Your brother appeared in the living room, putting his phone in his pocket, but looking like he had heard the entire conversation between you and Mingyu. 

“Bye.” 

You closed the door when you saw Mingyu and Seokmin enter the elevator. You were ready to hide in your room and try, even if it was impossible, to understand what had happened that night, but of course, Jeonghan had other plans. He was leaning against the wall in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, an inquisitive look on his face. 

“Don’t start,” you warned. 

Everything that had happened, not only that night but also during the week, had simply been too much for you. You had just gotten used to the idea of ​​having Mingyu around, you had started to like having him around. But then everything happened so fast. A laugh on the sidewalk had become an unbridled make-out, a smile a declaration of love. 

The rumors had gotten worse since that first day. Kira talked about them carefully, mainly because she knew you didn't want to be associated with athletes in any way, but she never failed to tell you anything about what was going on. That's only you begged her to tell you, otherwise it would be like in those cliché movies, the girl walking down the hallway and discovering all the rumors that were going around about her because she overheard someone's conversation. 

And it wasn't like you hadn't gotten stares in the hallways, but the truth is that you had gotten used to them when you were still a teenager. Getting into that same skin of an apathetic, uncaring person was pretty easy. 

"Why didn't you accept going to his game? You like it. It would have been fun” 

And on top of that, as the cherry on the cake, because of course life couldn't just make things a little easier for you, there was that whole shit show from a few hours before. Even though you hated the situation with a passion, you knew there was some truth to it. At that moment, you felt, once again, as if you were still 15 years old, sitting in the living room at home, enduring whatever nonsense Seungcheol decided to say.

Seungcheol was the kind of guy who made jokes out of real situations. In that sense, he was the complete opposite of Jeonghan. Your brother came up with impossible situations, bordering on insanity, and spoke about them with such conviction that you felt compelled to believe him. Seungcheol, on the other hand, took small facts and distorted them, or just exaggerated them in some way.

At that moment, sitting at that table, watching Mingyu's face become completely devoid of any color, you knew it was true. Maybe, yes, an exaggerated version of the truth, but a truth nonetheless.

“Jeonghan, it's just… I can’t”

You walked past him. That scene was too familiar and despite the theme of the conversation being different, you didn't want to have to go through the same situation again.

“Because of me?”

“Because of him.”

You hated seeing that look on Jeonghan’s face like he blamed himself for everything that was wrong with you. Daddy issues? Mommy issues? Apparently, you had brother issues.

“You know, one day I hope you stop caring so much about what people think, because you’re barely living your life right now, hoping that someone, someday, won’t care.”

Jeonghan's words floated through your mind for days. You found yourself standing in the middle of the campus several times, analyzing the people who were walking from one side to the other, some in a hurry, others talking to each other, many too distracted with phones in their hands to pay attention to what was happening around them. 

None of them, no matter how much part of your brain said otherwise, seemed to care about you. 

Even though you had been the main topic of conversation for a few days, everything changed when someone on the football team got drunk enough to kneel on a bar table crying, declaring his undying love to a girlfriend from elementary school. You had hidden yourself for so long, away from everything that you considered to be a problem, that you had forgotten how things worked. 

No one really cared — no one might be a little too much to say, but very few people looked at you and cared about what was happening. It was much easier to understand the situation than to start acting differently, but you hoped it was a start, however small it was. 

Your phone started to vibrate in your hand, a second later the screen lit up, and the word mom flashed on the screen. You knew what she wanted. You had been avoiding her calls and messages for a couple days. But you knew you couldn't pretend you were in class anymore, come up with some lame excuse to ignore her. She had even called Jeonghan and asked, or rather ordered, him to tell you to call her. You had avoided it as much as possible.

“Hi, mom”

“Ah, you finally remembered you have a mom”

You could imagine the exact scene: your mother walking back and forth, her hair tied into a low ponytail, gesturing before dropping her hand and slapping her thigh. You couldn't help but smile when you heard the clear sound of footsteps, followed by a slap.

“Sorry, I've been busy. You know how it is.”

“I can always talk to your brother just fine”

You knew she didn’t mean anything, you knew it wasn’t a comparison — at least not a conscious one — but the sentence was received with a sting anyway.

“That’s because Jeonghan has a schedule for literally everything. I study until I nearly blackout or my brain turns to pudding, which ever comes first.”

You walked to nearest bench and sat down with a sigh.

“Have you been sleeping? Eating enough? You and your brother are terrible cooks, and I know he eats at the club most of the time, but what about you? I can come by every week and bring you food, it’s not a problem.”

She kept talking nonstop, you were sure she was already making a list of everything she needed to make enough food for a week. 

“Mom!” you said loudly, loud enough for the girl next to you, who had headphones on, to look at you. You smiled awkwardly, lowering your head a little in apology. “Mom, we’re fine. We learned how to cook enough to survive.”

“Noodles are not a real meal.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We have vegetables, rice, and meat at home, Mom. I went shopping yesterday,” you said before she could say anything.

“One of these days I’ll show up and surprise you.”

“And on that day, you’ll find the fridge full and food ready,” you said jokingly.

You were silent for a few seconds, until she spoke again, this time her tone much more cautious.

“I know you don’t like it very much, that you’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than participating in this, but just this year, couldn’t you consider going to the hospital gala? I know it’s the middle of the semester, that you have a lot of things to do, that you’re looking for an internship, but it’s just one night and…”

Even with all the differences you had with your mother, you didn’t like seeing — in this case, hearing — her begging for anything, much less for your presence at an event that you knew was important to the family. Ever since you started refusing to go to it, your mother never forced you to go. She insisted a little on the first year and asked if you hadn’t changed your mind at the last minute. But never like that. For whatever reason, she wanted you at the party, and by extension, you knew your father did too.

“I’ll go, Mom. I’m going to buy a dress tomorrow.”

Despite the distance, you knew your mother’s breath had caught in her throat, that she was trying her best to control herself. She liked parties and glamor and she liked it even more when you attended. And you liked it too, until… until you decided to avoid it.

You had to start somewhere, this whole thing of not caring what people thought. It was best to start somewhere at least somewhat familiar, right?

“I… set… I have…” she cleared her throat and began again “I made hair and makeup appointments for me. You want me to schedule it for you too?”

Her voice was almost shaking, making you feel even worse. Had you alienated yourself from mother to the point where she was shaking just because you agreed to go to a party?

“Could you make an appointment for a manicure too? I need to get my nails done.”

He walked into the room, adjusting his tie around his neck, laughing at whatever his sister had said, hating the feeling of being suffocated. He wanted, almost desperately, to take off the damn tie, but he knew better than to. His sister would laugh at the situation, but his parents, especially his father, would not be happy about it. It's not like he disliked the event itself, but he hated having to pretend. Pretending that he and his parents got along well and that the smiles they gave when someone complimented Mingyu were genuine. 

It was all completely and utterly fake. 

The truth was that Mingyu barely spoke to his parents. He didn't know when was the last time he had talked to them, just to talk. He didn't know what it was like to ask if everything was okay just because he cared. He didn't know what it was like to send a picture of a place, or anything, to his mom because he could, because he wanted to like he always saw Seokmin do. 

He always tried his best to keep his distance. Maybe being so far away from his parents wouldn't make him feel like a complete failure every time he thought about them. Logically, he knew that wasn't the case, he knew he wasn't a failure, but he was a disappointment to his parents. So he kept his distance, it was easier.

He still attended events like that to keep up appearances, that was an important thing to them. Not having received support, affection, or love from his parents since he was 17? Insignificant compared to the need to maintain the idea of ​​a united and happy family in front of their friends.

In the end, he didn't mind going to events like that, supposedly for charity. He liked seeing his sister and deep down he liked seeing his parents' friends praising him and saying how amazing it was that he had a career completely independent of his parents and even without their help.

Mingyu liked to think that his father had opened up about not having helped him at all in an attempt to seem tough and smarter than his son, but that only made him seem bitter every time his career as an athlete was the subject of conversation. Besides, he could see his school friends again. So it was a win-win situation: his parents kept up appearances and he had fun reminiscing about his school days as if it had been 20 years instead of just 3.

“If you keep pulling that tie, it’ll rip,” his sister said, laughing as she forced Mingyu’s hand down.

“It’s suffocating”

“Oh, you poor baby,” she pouted mockingly at Mingyu.

Mingyu shook his head and turned to the rest of the room, looking for a familiar face. He quickly found Jeonghan and Seungcheol but decided not to approach them as he normally would. If it had been last year’s party, Mingyu would have talked to them both, but this time he chose to stay in the same place.

That night at Jeonghan’s house still left a bitter taste in Mingyu’s mouth. He had a plan, which might not have worked — that probably wouldn’t have worked — but if one day you found out about his teenage crush, Mingyu wanted you to find out by him, and not through some guy who had brought it up for no reason. He wanted to ask you out, to go little by little until you felt comfortable with him. But Seungcheol did him the huge favor of throwing everything out the window for a joke.

It’s like that old saying: I lose the friend, but I don’t lose the joke. And Mingyu wasn’t his friend, not now or back in school, so truthfully there was no loss for Seungcheol.

And then he saw you.

For a second he thought it was a mirage. It had been years since you had last been to that kind of event. Your last one was Mingyu’s first. He thought he was imagining things, that he was so crazy wanting to talk to you that he had started to imagine you in places you weren’t.

He watched as you walked right past Seungcheol, even when he tried to talk to you and stopped next to Jeonghan. Your expression was serious, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful. 

The strapless dress slid down your body, almost as if it had been molded to your curves perfectly, tailored just for you. Your hair was loose over your back, just two strands framing your face. And your lips... lips painted in the sexiest shade of red he had ever seen.

Forget the little crush he had back in high school, this didn't even compare. It was a goddamn waterfall. Mingyu felt like he was standing next to one too with the way his heart was beating so loudly and deafening in his ears. 

It was official, he was lost. He didn't know what to do. It was the first time he had felt this nervous in your presence. Before, it had been like butterflies flying around in his stomach, that kind of fun anxiety, the one that makes one giddy and excited. 

He tugged at his tie again and grabbed a glass from the tray of a waiter who passed by. He didn't know what it was and also he didn't care, he needed something to wet his throat. The liquid went down bitterly, burning. The surprise made him have a small coughing fit.

Suddenly it was as if all eyes had turned to him, including yours. You smiled slowly as Minseo patted Mingyu on the back, trying to help, but making the situation even worse.

You quickly turned to Jeonghan, saying something for a second before walking towards Mingyu. With each step you took, he felt like his heart was beating faster and faster, to the point of almost exploding in his chest.

Over your shoulder, he saw Jeonghan smile and give him a thumbs up.

"Go for a walk," he said to his sister, without taking his eyes off you.

Did he say a waterfall? Forget it, it was more like an entire ocean.

Unconsciously, you smoothed your dress at least twice as you walked towards Mingyu. In a place full of so many theoretically important people, much more important than the two of you, it was very easy to go to him. Taking all those steps wasn't scary at all.

The feeling was completely different from that one time you had talked in college. That day, you had waited for him, your fingers trembling a little because you were in a place where anyone could see you. However, at that moment, you didn't feel any kind of nervousness.

Maybe, there was some nervousness, but the good kind. When you're excited to do something, the kind that you were sure would bring good things. You liked to think that the good thing at the moment was Mingyu.

"You look, wow... stunning."

He smiled and it was as if the breath had been taken from you, as if for a whole second your lungs forgot their purpose, forgot that they were supposed to push air into your body.

“Look at you, using pretty words,” you somehow found your voice again.

You tried your best to hide the nervousness you felt, the slight tremor in your voice. You didn’t know why you were feeling that way. You had seen Mingyu so many times, before and after you found out who he was. You had seen him in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt walking around campus; you were at the bar when he walked in wearing an all-denim look and glasses on the back of his head — you remembered finding that way of wearing glasses ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it made sense on him —, you had seen him walking around with his cap on backward.

You had always made a point of staying as far away from him and the circle he frequented as possible, but you could never deny that he was gorgeous. But there, in that moment, in that a black suit, his tie a little crooked and the most magnificent smile you had ever seen, you thought that maybe you didn’t need to force yourself to be away from him all the time.

“Just to impress a beautiful woman.”

You smiled, even though you tried to contain yourself, pressing your lips together. But you knew it was useless. There wasn't a single cell in your body that didn't like the attention you were getting, that didn't like his compliments.

“You haven't been to one of these in years.”

You nodded and looked over your shoulder. Your mother was chatting animatedly with a colleague, her eyes shining as she held out her hand and a second later your father was beside her.

You had all these differences with your parents, things that you disliked about them, and that made you keep your distance from them, but the truth is that you loved them.

When you arrived at your parent's house to get ready earlier that day, your dress in the bag, your backpack almost falling off your shoulders, it was as if you had been transported to your house 8 years before. But it was also different.

You half expected some comment, anything, no matter how small, that could be a comparison with Jeonghan — how even though he was completely busy with work if he didn't have a game or any specific schedule, he would always go to events, while you did everything to avoid it. But the comment never came.

Your mother sat by your side all day, asking you questions about yourself, about college, about the internship. She never mentioned Jeonghan, and when you tried to mention him, the only answer you got was “I don’t want to know about your brother, I want to know about you.” 

You wanted to cry when you heard those words. It was the kind of thing you laways wanted to hear from her. The confirmation that you didn’t need to be compared to Jeonghan, that it was okay not to live in his shadow all the time. 

“Do you come every year?” 

“Yeah, my mother and sister would forgive me if I missed it.” 

You nodded with a low noise in the back of your throat and took a step forward, your body a little too close to Mingyu’s, your fingers closing around his tie and pulling it slightly to the side until it was aligned with the buttons of his shirt. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to do that. All your sane neurons, which hadn’t melted when he smiled at you for the first time, screamed that you were one step away from insanity, that you were, in fact, already crazy. You were sure that nurses the size of refrigerators would show up and take you to the psychiatric ward of the hospital at any second.

You licked your lips and took a step back, avoiding looking directly at Mingyu. 

“It was the first time my mother managed to convince me in years” you admitted. 

You looked around, looking for a waiter, wishing one would materialize in front of you, just so you could have something to hold on to, but have something to do with his hands, but there was none around. 

“I'll thank her as soon as I see her.” 

“You're a shameless flirt, aren't you?” 

“Only when there's a gorgeous woman in front of me.”

The rest of the night went by smoothly, without any temporary bouts of insanity. There were a few moments, but you managed to control yourself every time. You managed to control the urge you had when you were next to him, to simply hold his hand. 

Your mother was a great help, taking you away from Mingyu now and then to introduce you to some friends and coworkers. Jeonghan was by your side every time you weren't with Mingyu, like a bodyguard. You wondered if he was acting that way because you had said those things to him before; and if your mother's change in attitude was also related. Despite it all, although you had been shown off for part of the night, you had had fun. It could also have been the alcohol talking. 

You had accepted a few more glasses than you should have. You were far from drunk, but you were certainly not in your sanest state. However, the alcohol brought a wave of courage to you, which until then had been completely unknown. 

Towards the end of the gala, after dinner, when some of the guests had already started to leave, you saw Mingyu at the table next to yours. His parents sat in front of him, his sister next to him, and some people you had no idea who they were sat on at the edges. Mingyu kept his head low, nodding now and then. He seemed desperate to get out of there.

Before reason could prevail, you stood up and walked towards him. You placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned your body forward until your face was close to his.

“Can you help me with something?”

You didn't notice the tremor in Mingyu's voice when he asked to be excused because your whole body was shaking too. You smiled at his parents and turned towards the exit, needing some fresh air.

A new wave of tremors and electricity ran through your body when Mingyu put his hand on your lower back. He was neither guiding nor rushing you. His hand was simply there, lightly. He pulled the door open for you and somehow still managed to keep his hand on you. 

You liked it, the weight of it, his presence there.

"Did something happen?" he asked when you were far enough from the door and prying ears, letting his hand drop at the side of his body.

You just shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly missing the warmth from inside. 

"No, you just seemed to be suffering" you half smiled, half laughed, suddenly feeling a little pathetic for assuming things. 

Mingyu smiled at you then, removing his jacket and dropping it over your shoulder.

"Thank you. If it weren't for you, this night would have sucked entirely"

It was silent for a minute, neither one of you doing anything at all. You were simply standing side by side, his elbow brushing yours from time to time while he rocked on his heels. 

It was most definitely the alcohol talking, it had to be because there was no way you'd ever say what you were about to say if it weren't for it. Never, in good and normal conscience you'd have been bold enough. And yet, there you were. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

You turned to him and got a nod as an answer, his eyes expectant and curious. You forced the words out before you had the chance to stop yourself. 

"That day, at my place, Seungcheol mentioned you having a crush on me. Was that true?"

There was a beat of silence, as Mingyu's smile slowly dropped. It was enough to make you regret the question, almost enough to make you regret the whole thing. Seeing Mingyu at the gala was a pleasant surprise, his presence was something you were grateful for during the night. You didn't mean to ruin it at the last minute. 

You blamed the alcohol, though it had very little to do with your decision. You had been curious and wanted to ask Jeonghan about it but didn't dare to do so, not when you knew that your brother would be able to read right through you. 

You blamed Seungcheol and his constant puppy eyes throughout the night, following your every move. His clear apologetic look, though no sorry words were said. His pride was too big for that. 

You blamed yourself too, for being curious about it. You were just fine when he was just a guy from college, someone you'd see now and then in a poster, or someone you heard of in passing. 

You blamed Mingyu too.

"Yeah, it was," he finally answered, sinking his hands into his pants pockets.

Screw it, you thought, if it's raining I might as well get drenched.

"And now?"

You held your breath, waiting for his answer. 

"Still is," he said, voice soft, this almost apologetic smile on his lips. 

You closed your eyes for just a second, somehow lavishing on his answer. There was a small smile on your lips as you turned to him, gripping his tie and pulling him down until you could press your lips to his. 

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[steddieas-shegoes]

hidden lace

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts 'sneaking around' and 'lingerie'

rated e | 18+, minors dni or i will tell your mother | 2852 words | check ao3 for all tags

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Steve is pissed at Eddie.

Like, genuinely pissed.

Not that cute, haha my boyfriend was being annoying but I love him, pissed.

The kind where if he saw him right now, he’d do something really stupid, like yell or break up with him.

And he knew he didn’t actually want to do that.

But see, Steve had been given incorrect information about what they would be doing tonight. He’d been told they’d be having dinner alone and then going to the quarry alone and probably going back to Steve’s house alone.

When they showed up at the diner to a table full of Eddie’s bandmates, Steve’s teeth gritted together to hold back saying something much more rude than he intended.

It was fine, though, because Steve did actually like hanging out with the guys despite their rough start. They were some of the few people who knew about Steve and Eddie’s relationship, so they didn’t feel like they had to hide anything.

Well, Steve did tonight.

He was wearing his usual clothes, of course, but underneath, he was wearing a lingerie set. Something Eddie had been begging him to wear for months now, something Steve had tried on at least 20 times before only to hurry out of them because it felt too good. He figured with how much they’d be alone tonight, he could get used to the feeling of the lace against his skin at dinner and then surprise Eddie with it when they got to the quarry.

It’s all he’s thought about since Eddie picked him up.

He’s certain it’s written all over his face throughout dinner. Gareth keeps shooting him these looks like he knows Steve’s hiding something, and Jeff has asked him if he’s okay at least three times since they sat down. Frankie doesn’t say anything, but he does hand Steve a joint when no one else is looking and tells him to relax a little.

If Steve was smart, he probably would have snuck a few hits from it before Eddie got in the van.

“That was fun,” Eddie said as Steve contemplated trying to run back inside to the bathroom so he could strip the lace off and shove it into his pockets.

“Uh huh.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you they’d be joining us, sweetheart.”

Steve gives him a half-hearted smile. “That’s okay. Um, are we seeing anyone else tonight?”

“Oh! There’s a bunch of people hanging at the quarry. I think even Robin’s gonna be there.”

Steve nods a little too enthusiastically to be convincing. “Cool. Sounds good.”

Eddie’s eyes are on him, intense. “You don’t sound happy about it. Thought you’d be a little more excited about hanging with Robin. You just told me yesterday you haven’t gotten to spend time with her outside of work for weeks.”

“No, you’re right,” Steve sighs. “I just wasn’t expecting to be…social.”

“We planned a date?” Eddie sounds genuinely confused, as if he doesn’t know the difference between hanging out one on one and in groups.

“Yeah, I just.” Steve sighs again. “It’s fine. Let’s go hang out with people.”

Eddie looks like he wants to push and understand why Steve is suddenly so worried about being around people, but Steve leans in to kiss him quickly, just a soft peck on the lips. He smiles and Eddie smiles back.

Instant distraction.

Eddie has admitted before that Steve has a way of making him go completely dumb. Some would call it dick brain, but it’s not even that he gets hard about it. He just feels like all thoughts have left the building.

Like Elvis, man,, he’d said when Robin asked what his deal was after Steve had kissed him goodbye at work.

As Eddie drives them to the quarry, Steve shifts in his seat. He’s not uncomfortable, but he definitely worries that he will be when all eyes are on him. Maybe they won’t know that he’s nearly bursting out of blush pink panties and a matching bralette that rubs against his nipples in a way that feels like Eddie’s teeth when they’re teasing him. But maybe they will.

But are his nerves because he’s worried people will know?

He can feel his dick hardening against the damp lace.

No, he doesn’t think he’s all that worried about people seeing him in lingerie.

Eddie’s door slamming is the only thing that alerts him to their arrival. He blinks and opens his door so he can hop out, but he’s immediately frozen when he feels the head of his dick rubbing against his jeans.

So maybe next time he can buy a size up. Or find some made for men. Do they make them for men?

“Stevie?” Eddie’s voice is against his ear, sending chills down his spine as his hand ghosts between his shirt and waistband. “You sure you don’t wanna go home?”

“I’m sure,” Steve shivers.

“We won’t stay for long,” he promises.

Steve just nods.

He does what he’s supposed to at these things: makes smalltalk with people he doesn’t know that well, hangs around Eddie and Robin as much as possible, smiles and laughs when appropriate.

But his brain is gone.

Well, it’s there, but it’s made of lace and the sweat beading at his brow despite the fall chill.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been here, but he thinks he’s gonna have to go soon.

Eddie’s fingers grasp his forearm.

“Steve.”

Steve looks at him.

Eddie knows.

His face is flush and his pupils are huge, looks like he would bite a bruise into Steve’s neck right now, in front of all these people.

“Van. Now.”

The van is surrounded by cars. Empty cars, but still cars that belong to people.

Steve should probably just explain what’s going on, and then maybe they could just go back to Steve’s house and never bring this up ever again.

But he doesn’t. He knows they’re about to fuck in Eddie’s van, and he knows everyone at this gathering is busy, and he thinks maybe this will be the night that someone finds out exactly what Steve and Eddie are to each other.

Eddie doesn’t let go of his arm as they walk, which puts them both at a strange angle. No one seems to notice, but Steve’s not sure he’d be aware of anyone looking their way at this point. His brain is fuzzy, and all he can think about is Eddie stripping him down to the lace barely covering him in the back of his van.

No one is near the cars when Eddie opens the backdoor of his van and gently nudges Steve inside. No one is there to see the way Eddie watches him fall face first on the blanket he keeps laid out, barely holding back a groan at the way Steve’s ass is up in the air, taunting him even while fully clothed. No one except Steve feels his heartbeat racing as Eddie closes the door and grips his calf.

“You’ve been on edge all night. I was starting to worry you were sick or I’d pissed you off, but it’s not either of those things, is it?” Eddie leans over Steve’s back, bracketing him in until he has no choice but to fall flat against the blanket. “You wanna be fucked.”

Steve whines.

“But why? You knew we’d go to your house later. You knew I’d take care of you. So why are you acting like this?” Eddie continues, breath hot against Steve’s neck.

His hand ghosts under Steve’s shirt, fingers trailing against his skin and leaving goosebumps along the way.

Steve’s breath catches when he feels Eddie’s touch pause against the line of lace across his back.

“Stevie. What’s this?” Eddie sounds much calmer than he probably is.

“It’s a…bra. It’s a bra.”

Eddie’s forehead falls to Steve’s shoulder blade, and he lets out a huff. It may be a laugh or it may be a sigh, or it may be anything else.

“I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you, sweetheart.”

His lips are soft against Steve’s neck.

Steve melts further into the blanket, but can’t completely relax until Eddie’s seen– or felt– everything.

“Um, there’s more,” he says as he starts to turn over so he can face Eddie. “And it might be a little weird and it might not even look good anymore because I’ve been hard for most of the night, but-”

Eddie silences him with a kiss to his lips, the taste of the last cigarette he smoked still on his tongue.

He keeps kissing him, even when Steve moans and bucks his hips up, seeking friction that’s easily found. His hand traces the waistband of Steve’s jeans, a fingertip dipping just past the denim to find what Steve’s been hiding.

“Oh.”

Steve smiles nervously. He knows Eddie would never make him feel bad, even if he didn’t happen to like the lingerie, but he’s still nervous. He still wants Eddie to like it, to like the way he fills them out, to like him.

“Can I see?” Eddie asks, eyes wide with awe and cheeks blushing the same pink as Steve’s panties.

Steve nods because he doesn’t think he’ll sound confident if he says anything out loud.

Eddie slides his pants off quickly, but his hands are gentle, almost reverent in the way they glide across Steve’s thighs.

He doesn’t say anything, just gestures for Steve to sit up so he can pull off his shirt.

When Steve’s been stripped down to only pink lace, he’s warm and anxious.

Eddie’s eyes don’t know where to go, zipping from his nipples barely visible through the thick floral pattern covering them down to the see-through wetness of his cock leaking through the thin material. Steve waits for him to say something, can’t interrupt whatever thoughts he’s having right now.

“You look beautiful, Stevie.”

It settles something in him, some last nerves that he knew wouldn’t go away without Eddie’s confirmation that this wasn’t a waste of time or money.

“I do?”

Eddie’s palm cups his cock through the panties. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. When did you get these?”

Steve shrugs because he doesn’t really remember anymore, and even if he did, it’s not important. What matters is that Eddie fucks him while he wears them, and that he goes to buy more on his next trip into the city.

It’s softer than Steve expected.

Eddie’s taking it slow, touching him everywhere, letting his fingers trace the patterns of the lace and smiling when Steve shivers under his attention. He seems mesmerized and Steve feels adored, loved.

Usually, Steve prefers feeling Eddie’s skin against his, but the way his clothed cock brushes against the lace panties, and the way his chest rubs against the bra, it’s a constant reminder that Steve did this to feel nice and for Eddie to look at him.

“Fuck me,” Steve whispers against his lips when he feels his stomach tighten. “Please fuck me.”

“Here? You sure you don’t want me to just suck you off?”

Steve thinks about the people crowded near the coolers and picnic tables not too far away.

“Yeah, here. I need you.”

He knows Eddie can’t resist that.

Now, Eddie’s quick, but no less gentle, as he opens Steve up on his fingers. The lube he keeps in the van is finally getting some use.

Steve arches into it, sighing out the pleasure Eddie gives, keeping as quiet as possible in case someone decides to come back to their car before they finish.

He’s got panties pushed to the side, his precum dribbling onto his stomach, and Eddie’s raspy voice in his ear telling him everything he’s gonna do to him when they’re home. Steve can get off with just this, has gotten off to this before.

“You ready?” Eddie finally asks him, pulling his fingers out so he can wipe them off and get his own pants pulled down.

“Been ready. Could’ve fucked me ten minutes ago,” Steve replies with a smirk.

His head is fuzzy, but the knowledge that they could be caught keeps him present, keeps him aware of everything happening in a way he knows he wouldn’t be if they were in the privacy of his room.

“I don’t like your tone,” Eddie jokes as he lines himself up, pushing the lace further out of the way. “I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re too soft for that tonight.”

“Someone’s feeling sappy,” Steve gasps as Eddie enters him slowly. He lifts his head to watch as Eddie bottoms out, his cock rubbing against the side of the panties. “Fuck.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Eddie groans. “You feel so good. You look so good. I wanna eat you out when we get home.”

Steve nods as his hands grip the blankets. “Yeah. I have a-” Steve whines as Eddie shifts slightly, changing the angle so he brushes against Steve’s prostate. “I have a plug.”

“How the hell did you sneak that in here?”

“Yesterday when you were in the shower,” Steve laughs breathlessly. “Fuck, Eds. So good.”

Eddie is focused now, on not coming or coming, Steve can’t be sure.

“God, you have to wear these all the time,” Eddie groans as his hand creeps up to his chest, thumb rubbing against one of Steve’s nipples. “I want you in every color. Wanna see you in red, and blue, and black, and fuckin’-- what other colors are there?”

Steve giggles. “Purple…yellow…fuck.”

Steve’s gonna come and Eddie’s gonna follow right behind him, he can tell. Eddie’s thrusts are erratic but accurate, always hitting the spot that makes black spots appear in the corner of Steve’s vision and his limbs tingle with warmth and sunshine.

“You’re so good to me, fuck, Stevie. I love you,” Eddie squeezes his thigh as he parts his legs further. “You’re mine.”

“Yours. Yours,” Steve’s head falls back as he shakes through one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had. He can’t catch his breath, and he feels overstimulated within seconds. “Eddie, need you.”

Eddie always gives him what he needs.

They’re both coming down still when someone bangs on the back door of the van. Steve sits up so quickly, he almost breaks Eddie’s nose.

“Yeah!” Steve yells, pushing Eddie off of him, barely containing a whimper when his cock is no longer filling him.

“If you two wanna get dressed before people start heading to their cars, now would be a good time!” Robin whisper-yells against the door.

“Got it!” Steve yells back, already trying to slide his pants back on despite the mess on his stomach and dripping from his hole.

Eddie places his hands on Steve’s, making him pause for a moment.

“Did you do this for me or for you?” He asks, suddenly shy.

Steve couldn’t help feeling a little proud of the fact that he was maybe the only person Eddie Munson ever got shy around.

“I did it for both of us. And I promise I’ll do it again if you let me get dressed so we don’t get caught.”

Eddie beams at him, kisses his cheek, and starts to pull his own pants back up, wincing when his boxers cling to his sensitive and wet dick.

“We’ve gotta plan better for these things,” he complains.

“I planned just fine.”

“The plug!” Eddie’s eyes widen in panic. “Where is it?”

“We don’t have time,” Steve groans, but he looks over his shoulder at the bag he keeps behind the passenger seat. It’s mostly full of snacks and Tylenol, sometimes a change of clothes if he knows he’s staying with Eddie. Last night he managed to get a plug in there. “Okay! Okay, fine. Just, go start the car.”

Eddie claps his hands together excitedly and grins. “As you wish, my liege.”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. He reaches down to ease the plug in, biting back a whimper at the soreness he feels. They weren’t even rough tonight, couldn’t be, yet Steve feels like they just went for three rounds.

“If it hurts, don’t do it, sweetheart,” Eddie says from the driver’s seat.

“No, it’s good. I’m good,” he says as he pulls his pants up and slips his shirt on.

Eddie glances over his shoulder and frowns.

“Why the face?” Steve asks.

“I can’t see the lace.”

“Eddie…”

“I know! But I’m speeding on the way home.”

Steve slides into the passenger seat and looks out the window to make sure no one is directly next to them. When he doesn’t see anyone except Robin walking back towards the party, he leans over to kiss Eddie’s cheek.

“Thank you for letting me try something new.”

Eddie blinks over at him. “Thank me? Thank you. Holy shit, Steve. You’ve never been hotter than you are right now.”

“Okay, okay. Drive us home so I can ride you.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Eddie puts both hands on the steering wheel. “Focus, Eddie.”

“You’re such a dork,” Steve laughs.

“I’m living my dream right now.”

Steve can’t agree more.

[blimpintime]

a jar of wind

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to a end.

warnings: angst, azriel sucks :p and unedited

word count: 1.4k

eventual Eris x OC

“Rhys! You will never believe what I managed to do with my-” I bursted into the kitchen with a warm glow, my green dress flowing around me and headed towards where he was sitting with a cup of tea.

“Wynn, I have been up with Nyx for the past three nights and days with him teething. I would love some silence. Please.” He said with a low voice and eyes closed in annoyance. 

“Oh! Right, yes. Sorry.” I wince, I twirl my finger and use the wind to brush through the mellow sounding wind chimes I have placed around the River House. 

The tension seemed to leave his body, and I placed a sisterly kiss on the top of his head, my ginger bobbed hair layering over his black hair. In doing so I managed to remove the growing headache from him and take it on for myself.

“I didn’t ask you to do that, Wynn.” He said softly.

“I know, but that’s what family is for Rhys.” I respond with a light touch on his shoulder and whisper words of encouragement as I leave. 

As I walked out of the River House where the sun is setting, I ran into Azriel and Cassian. I smile and my subtle pink glow brightens.

“Hello you two!” I say with a wave and notice the grimm look on their body language and my face falls and my glow dims. “What happened, who's hurt?” 

Cassian winces and Azriel gives me a sharp look, “Stay out of it Wynn. You do enough damage as is.” 

I flinch back and the wind around me goes cold, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He walks closer to me and leans over to get in my face, “It means that whatever magical experiment you tried this time back fired and hurt Elain.”

“What are you talking about?” I whisper back. My mind reels trying to remember if I left a magic trial unattended in the open, but I draw a blank. Unless… 

“She snuck into my cottage?” I question brows furrowing. There was only one trial I left at my house and that was my attempt of getting my wind to play instruments on its own, but wind is finicky and if interrupted incorrectly can cause a spiral of sharp and messy wind.

“Snuck? Wynn, you let everyone into your home all the time, there was no reason to lock your doors.” Cassian responded. I go hot with anger. 

“So just because I host all the time means my house is fair game? There are wards around it for a reason when I am not home. If that is your logic here then allow me to go into your guys home whenever I feel and do what I please.” I snap back.

“You’re being unreasonable Wynn.” Azriel says while rolling his eyes. “It was just Elain. She is harmless.” 

“I do not care who it was Azriel, it is my home. What did she need from me anyway? I just saw her this morning.” I ask him and he storms by me to go inside the house. Cassian and I follow him.

“Rhysand!” Azriel yells. Rhys walks out of the kitchen looking a little better than he did before. 

“Why are we yelling?” He asks.

“Wynn has caused more damage to this court.” Azriel says and I wince back. Rhys turns to look at me with an eyebrow raised. 

I raise my hands in defense.

“Wynn, was it another silly experiment?” Rhys asks. My heart tugs and I nod, and I feel as though I should defend myself. They’re not silly, they are fun.

“Did I do something to personally offend you Azriel?” I ask softly. 

“Yes! Since you’ve shown up to this court all you have done have been attached to the hip with Feyre, surprised she hasn’t told you that you are suffocating. You’re nothing more than an annoying weed.” He spat, “You buzz in and out loudly all the time, you cannot read a room to save your life, your experiments are juvenile and lack actual use, and whenever you shrink down to your pixie form is the only time you're tolerable because we can barely hear you.” He said like a weight has been lifted off his chest. 

I can only stare at him, shock and hurt cover my face. The glow of pink on my body fades down to a low humming blue, and suddenly I am back in that damn jar. 

The jar I am in is hot and stuffy. I do not remember how I got here but I do understand that this is cursed glass and I won’t be able to be let out unless the lid is opened by the one who placed the curse or is killed. 

The jar sits in the middle of a long dinner table as decor, with being alive I always have a glow to me. When I am neutral and healthy it's normally pinkish orange, right now it’s bluish purple relating to my mood and terror. It hasn’t changed in the past decade of being here.

Being small and trapped in a jar and treated as entertainment by those who are desperate to feel power again is something I would never wish upon anybody. They like to cover the oxygen holes on the top and force me to dance or create wind art. Which is borderline impossible with the lack of airflow in here anyway.

“Tell me pretty, what other colors can you turn?”

“Az-” Cassian whispered.

“Fuck you Azriel. You know why I don’t go into that size very often and you of all people should understand why.” I spit at him, and he for just a moment looks guilty. 

“What? You all say this behind her back anyway. Now that I tell her to her face it’s a problem?” He looks at his two brothers. And they both won’t look me in the eye.

“Is that true?” I choke out with silent tears running down my face. Rhys looks at me and takes a breath, “There could have been more tact to how we said this but to put it bluntly yes.”

My wispy iridescent wings pop out of my back. And I start walking backwards towards the door, “I will see myself out then.” 

“Wynn, wait please let's discuss this more maturely.” Rhys says. Azriel scoffs in the background. 

“If it wasn’t for her, Elain wouldn’t be hurt again.” I flinch again feeling sick to my stomach. 

“I am sorry.” I choke out. Cassian reaches for me and I step back curling into myself feeling betrayed by those I called family. 

“No, that was completely uncalled for.” A new voice responds. I turn around to say Nesta and Elain. I look over Elain and all I notice is a few wind burns on her arms. She gives me a soft smile and I look down with a frown.

“Azriel, what is the actual problem here? Because I am fine. I went into her cottage because I forgot my tea recipe book there and completely forgot she was running an experiment.” Elain comes up to me softly and puts her hand on my shoulder. I lean into her warmth. Nesta stares at him with a cold hard glare. 

“He’s jealous.” She observes. Azriel looks shocked for just a moment before he stalks closer into Nesta’s face. To which signals me and Elain to step back and Cassian to intervene. 

“Enough.” Rhys says rubbing his temples again. “Azriel you were out of line with the way you approached this situation and Wynn maybe just be a little less, you.” 

All three girls flinch with the wording. 

“Have you lost your fucking mind Rhysand?” Nesta barks. “Wait until I tell Feyre.” 

By the time the two of them are arguing I shrink down to my pixie size and fly home to my cottage. I arrive at the front stoop back to normal size, and burst into tears against my front door barely making it inside before I collapse into a pile on the floor. 

In a panic I start shoving some of my emergency belongings in a satchel; clothes, my hygiene products, and my magic trials notebook. 

Frantically rushing around my small cottage I see a teacup Elain painted for me, with little orange and pink flowers all over it. I wrap it in one of my shirts and stuff it into my satchel.

By now the sun has completely set, and I take off my porch, my holographic wings sparkling in the moonlight and head towards some place I know will bring me some comfort. 

The Autumn Court. 

a/n: please enjoy! I have been thinking about this idea for a while! Leave comments, like, and share. if you have any questions plz let me know!

I do not own any of the characters that Sarah J Mass has created. but I do own miss Wynnie Lara :p

[litomilo]

part. 2

billie eilish x fem!reader 🧟‍♀️

warnings: smut, fingering, oral.

we were all having dinner, without glass plates or silverware, yes, we ate with our hands and the plates were paper or plastic, disposable so we wouldn't have to make noise when washing them, here everything is completely silent. billie was sitting next to me, this girl is very bold, she kept wrapping our feet and running her hand (the one she didn't use to eat, obviously) on my thigh.

god, I'm going to have to sleep in the same bed as this girl. i can't stand it.

as we finished eating, we threw the plates away and washed our hands. it was already 7:39 pm so i went straight to my room, i need to sleep so i can wake up early tomorrow, just like everyone else, nowadays everyone goes to bed either very early or very late... or not at all.

as soon as i got to my room, i grabbed a toothbrush from my backpack and went to the bathroom. i brushed my teeth very carefully and went to bed.

a while passed and someone i thought was Billie came in.

"lock the door" i murmured. i heard the door being locked and i relaxed back into bed.

"can i use your toothpaste?" the girl asked in a hoarse voice.

"go ahead," i answer, turning to the bathroom door, about 3 minutes later billie turned around, turned off the light and walked over to me, lying down next to me, facing me.

even in the dark, it was possible to see her blue eyes shining.

holy. shit.

"did you lose something here?" she asked, removing a strand of hair from my face.

how can i say anything without stuttering?

"no, sorry, good night," I replied dryly, turning to the other side.

"you don't have to be like that either," she whispered in my ear, making me shiver all over. the black-haired girl brought her body closer to mine and put her arm around my waist.

"you know, billie, who or what gave you all this authority? we practically just met!" and that's me playing hard to get.

"oh, don't be annoying, y/n! i know you want it..." she said smugly.

"big ego, eilish" i rolled my eyes.

"roll your eyes like that again and i'll give you a good reason to do it" darnn, she say these things with that hoarse voice of hers, my god... "did the cat got your tongue?"

i sigh.

"you know what? fuck it" i whisper, at that moment i took the desire that i had been repressing since the moment I saw her for the first time and went after her.

she seemed surprised when I pressed our lips together, but she wasn't even crazy enough to stop it, in seconds, the girl reversed positions, bringing her right hand to the hem of my blouse and i helped her take it off.

billie started to kiss my neck and down to my abdomen, probably leaving some marks along the way. as she went down, she also took off the sweatpants i was wearing.

"fuck... you're so fucking hot she said, stroking my waist. "it's going to be torture not being able to hear you while i fuck you" she whispered in that damn hoarse voice in my ear, making me shiver.

"go on, billie" i practically begged, bringing her hand down there, she just laughed and went back to kissing me, and when i least expected i felt her hand going into my panties, which made me moan softly.

"shhh" she said against my lips as she massaged my clit "I don't want to catch you by surprise, okay? I'm going to put two fingers now" she warned.

"okay" i nod, already anxious, soon feeling her inside me "oh my fuck, bil-",

"no noises" she interrupted me, covering my mouth with her free hand. billie started to speed up her movements, making me writhe all over the bed and i couldn't say anything.

this is being a torment.

"billie" i called in a whisper and she took her hand off my mouth "I'm gonna cum" i pant softly, she brought her face to my intimacy and spread my legs.

"quiet" was what she said before she started sucking my clit, and damn, it's so hard to stay quiet in this situation. i just grabbed the girl's hair and pulled it towards me to bring her face closer. she started to lower her mouth to my entrance, where she put her tongue in.

"jesus, billie!" i started in a high pitched tone, but when she squeezed my thigh (definitely leaving marks there) i lowered my voice and whimpered. she was moving her tongue in me, her hands all over my body, i just couldn't hold back and came undone in her mouth. ".... holy shit" i whisper breathlessly. billie licked all the cum that was dripping, making me let a low moan and went up again to kiss me.

"you taste so good" she said, giving me a few quick kisses.

"yeah?" i ask still breathless and she nods "then let me taste it too" i whisper kissing her lips.

[slashbitch2]

scream!

Summary: when murder comes to Westview in the form of a masked killer, you begin to doubt whether you can trust those closest to you...

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Implied Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader, Hinted Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

TW: rather mild smut, dubious consent, blood, violence, injury, death, homophobia, murder... basically the whole plot of the first scream film so if you can survive that im sure you will be fine lol, also spoilers for scream (1996)

W.C: 19.0k words

The words on the screen had already started to blur. Black words on a white screen merged into a sort of greyish mess. Your eyes longed to close, your hands itching to shut down the computer for the night, but onwards you pressed, fingers feverously darting across the keyboard. Everything else in your bedroom was still, lulled into peace by early moonlight seeping through an open window. A quick glance at the time revealed it was already 10pm. You figured that soon you ought to give up and start getting ready for bed…

A thud sounded somewhere outside, your head whipping towards the open window- which no longer displayed the empty night sky, but a figure, hunched over and perched precariously on the windowsill.

An intruder.

Your heart stopped.

And then, the stranger flicked a wave of dark auburn hair out of their face, and your heart continued to beat an irregular pattern. Wanda Maximoff, your girlfriend, who was rubbing her head where she’d smacked it against the roof ledge.

“Jeez.” At this revelation, you shot up from your seat and walked over to the window, tugging it all the way open. “You scared the shit out of me, Wanda.”

She grinned at you, swinging her legs through the frame, hoisting herself inside. “I’m sorry. Don’t hate me. I just wanted to see you.” Her feet landed with a gentle thud, dragging mud onto your white carpet.

“It’s late.” You folded your arms and stared, unimpressed at her cocky expression. “If my dad catches you…”

“I’ll only stay a sec.” She reassured though you were still hesitant. Noticing this, she opened her arms, beckoning you closer. “Come here. Please.”

You obliged and stepped forward, but kept your arms crossed as a physical barrier between you, maintaining the act that you were annoyed at Wanda. More than anything you were just concerned. She was already unpopular with your father, and if he caught her here, it’d surely spell the end of your relationship.

Wanda huffed, hooked a finger in the waistband of your sweatpants and dragged you towards her. You stumbled into her arms, feeling them wrap securely around your back as you reciprocated the embrace. She nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck which, as always, made you melt.

“I’ll make it up to you.” She whispered, the sensation of her warm breath against your skin sending goosebumps throughout your body.

“Oh yeah?” Something daring seeped into your tone as you pulled away to stare at her face, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “For scaring me? Or for the inevitable grounding I’m going to get when my dad discovers you visited?”

“That won’t happen.” She scoffed, nails digging into your waist. “I’ve already been here a couple minutes and he hasn’t come running.”

“Yet...” You shook your head. “But he’ll definitely know when he sees the mud you’ve tracked onto my carpet.”

You saw how her gaze flickered down to your lips and stayed there. “I can help clean it up.” She promised, with no real intention behind her words.

“Alright.” You scanned her face, noticing how blown out her pupils were, saw the slight red tint to her cheeks, watched closely as she licked her lips. You unconsciously leant forward, eyes closing, holding your breath to place a gentle kiss against her lips. Her grip on your waist tightened almost painfully as she immediately deepened the kiss, your mouth naturally parting to allow her entry.

You hummed, savouring the sweet taste of her, contrasting with the way she desperately pressed herself against you. As though she wanted the two of you to permanently merge, never to separate. Her obsession with you was intoxicating. You felt her tongue trace along your teeth, the kiss turning messy as Wanda pushed you back, step by step until your knees hit the edge of your bed.

She held onto you, slowing your fall against the soft mattress, her lips instantly returning to yours as she clambered on top of you. Your heart was no longer racing. It was pounding. But now wasn’t the time to let this go any further.

“Wanda...” You murmured, trying to break away.

She bit against your bottom lip, almost painfully. Her hands were all over you, brushing against the exposed skin of your stomach, up and underneath your shirt. As she began trying to get under your bra, you finally caught hold of her forearm, halting her advance.

“Wanda.” You repeated. Firmer, this time.

Seeing your serious expression, she sighed and sat up. A chill suffused across your body at the loss of contact, worsened by the flicker of annoyance that crossed her face. She was breathing heavily, jaw clenched as she took in your vulnerable position, the heat in her gaze increasing.

“See what you do to me.” She quirked an eyebrow, the corners of her lips quirking up.

You pushed yourself up, leaned against the headboard of your bed and appreciated her dishevelled state. “You know what my dad would do to you?” You reprimanded, reminding her of the reason for breaking it off.

“Fine.” She raised her hands in surrender, hopping off the bed. “I’m going… I’m going.”

You followed her to the window. “Very gentle-womanly of you.”

She placed her hands on the frame, lifting herself up and through.

“Hey.” You placed your hand over hers, stopping her before she disappeared back into the night. “Be safe, alright?” The drop below her wasn’t too far, but the lack of light made it look like some gaping black void ready to swallow her up.

“I will. Pietro’s waiting down the street. He’ll walk me home.”

“Good.” You nodded.

“And, about all…that.” She inclined her head towards the now ruffled bedsheets. “I’m not trying to rush you with any of that.”

You softened at her anxious apology and bent down to plant a chaste kiss against her cheek. “I know, it’s fine. I do want all of that, just… not now.” You shared a smile with her, then added, “but soon.”

“I know.” Wanda bit her lip, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

‘Soon’ came quicker than you would’ve thought. You slept soundly that night and found your alarm blaring at you to get up after what felt like barely ten minutes since you had closed your eyes. It took you a while to actually get up, not because you were reluctant to start the day, quite the opposite in fact. You lay there, wondering what the day would bring, dreaming of walking into school and being greeted by your girlfriend and friends.

You were the happiest you’d ever been since transferring there, and it wasn’t just because of Wanda. There was also Peter Parker, your film fanatic friend, Kate Bishop, who was dating Wanda’s twin brother Pietro, and Yelena Belova, who you would meet halfway on your walk to school every morning. Except for today…

You had waited as long as you could, but she never showed. It wasn’t uncommon for her to skip days, but usually, she called you the night before to inform you of her plans. At first, you were rather annoyed by her unannounced absence- but that annoyance was replaced by concern as soon as you arrived at school, seeing the six police cars, four news vans and a scattered crowd of onlookers stationed outside.

The sudden commotion surrounding your school left you confused and dazed, walking amongst the chaos trying desperately to gather any idea of what had happened here. You stopped in front of one of the reporters talking to a camera, your interest peaking as you recognised her. Pepper Potts. She was one of the local news presenters, infamous for often orchestrating her own version of dull stories to make headline.

“The small town of Westview, New Jersey was devastated last night when a young teenage girl was found brutally butchered in her own home.” Pepper’s expression was grave, her clothing abrasively colourful and ill-fitting for the unfolding story. “Authorities have yet to issue a statement, but our sources tell us that no arrest has been made yet.”

You felt suddenly and inexplicably hot with panic, yet frozen in place.

“The question on all of our minds: could this murderer strike again?”

Westview had never been subjected to such horrors before, the idea of a serial killer operating in your midst being previously unthinkable. Your mind flickered suddenly to Yelena and her sudden disappearance. The logical part of you refused to jump to conclusions but did nothing to stop anxiety from rising in the pit of your stomach.

A finger tapped against your shoulder, dragging you from your spiralling worries. You swivelled round to meet Kate’s warm brown eyes, which were unusually stormy and frantic. “Do you believe this shit?”

“What happened?” You asked instead, praying that Kate somehow already knew more than you.

And she did. “Oh god! You don’t know?” Her lips turned downwards as she scanned the scene thoughtfully. Fearfully. “Yelena was killed last night.”

“What.” You felt the ground drop out from beneath your feet, legs almost buckling under the sudden shock.

“And not just killed, Y/N. We’re talking slasher movie killed- split open end to end.”

“Alright.” You waved off her overly descriptive explanation, pinching the bridge of your nose and taking a deep breath. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. There was no way Yelena was dead. She was just at home, lazing in bed because she hadn’t done her English assignment.

You thought of her messy, blonde hair, her sharp hazel eyes. Thought of her untidy bedroom floor you had spent so many sleepovers on, her parents always so welcoming. You thought of the stray dog she had been feeding for the last couple of years. Who would look after him now?

“God.” You clutched at your stomach, tried not to heave at the realisation that this was real. Someone wanted Yelena dead and had succeeded.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” Kate placed a gentle, comforting hand on your back then swiftly removed it. “I didn’t think… I forgot you guys were… friends.”

“It’s fine.” You shook off the concern, forcibly standing up straight and glancing around. “I’m guessing the police will probably want to talk to me.”

“Yeah… probably.” Kate agreed feebly. “They’ve been rounding up friends of Yelena on the way in for interviews.”

The sickness settled in your chest. One you would have to learn to live with, to allow to stew into anger. “Do they have any idea who did this?”

“No. Peter said his uncle is on the case, and that it’s the worst crime he’s ever seen.” You looked back at Kate’s face, deeply pained. “It’s bad. They’re bringing in the feds. This is big.”

“Shit.” You said, at a loss for words.

“Shit indeed.” Kate agreed.

As predicted, you were instantly called into questioning in the principal’s office. It was intimidating to walk in and see a room full of cops with the headmaster, Nicky Fury sitting calmly at his desk. The man always looked extremely serious, but today was something else entirely. The frown he wore seemed engraved into his face like it was carved out of solid stone.

“Miss Y/L/N.” He gestured to the chair opposite. “Please, have a seat.”

Reluctantly, you sat down, then noticed the officer stood to Fury’s left: Tony Stark. He was Peter Parker’s uncle, and as such, the least menacing figure in the room.

“Hey Tony.” You greeted out of habit, wringing your hands in your lap.

“It’s Deputy Stark today, kid.” He corrected, crossing his arms.

“Sorry.” You muttered, glancing around the room at all the unfamiliar faces, feeling worse and worse. Although there was no spotlight shining in your face, it felt no less like a persecution.

Nonetheless, you answered all their questions to the best of your knowledge, trying your hardest not to imagine poor Yelena, left lying face down in a pool of her own blood. She had never been the type to be squeamish or frightened, and right now, you wished you had just a fraction of her courage…

By the time your interrogation- or interview, as they had been referring to it- was over, the lunch bell had just rung. You slung your backpack over your shoulder and headed to the courtyard where you normally ate lunch, though you had no appetite today. With every question the officers had asked, every gentle, probing ‘are you alright’ you had grown more and more sick. You looked a mess. Pale. Unfocused. Very seriously considering calling your dad to come pick you up…

“Hey!” A familiar voice broke through the general ruckus of the courtyard. “Y/N, over here.” It was Pietro, waving you over, his other arm slung over Kate’s shoulder possessively. As per usual, Pietro seemed his usual obnoxious self, totally unbothered by everything that was happening. Kate smiled at you pitifully, while Wanda, sat to her left, eyed you up with a wariness as you approached.

It was Peter, always the fifth wheel, who budged over to make room for you. You forced a thankful smile at him, muttered a brief hello to everyone else, and sat as close to Wanda as possible. She appeared to snap back into reality, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you closer, playing the role of concerned girlfriend perfectly. You sunk into her embrace, relaxed at the familiar smell of her shampoo and perfume, soaked up the warmth from her body and closed your eyes.

Temporarily, the nauseating sensation faded.

“Hunt? Why would they ask if you like to hunt?” Kate frowned at Pietro, and whatever tale he had been spinning while you hadn’t been paying attention.

Your eyes fluttered open as you picked up on the middle of their conversation. Wanda leant into your ear to whisper, “Pietro was called into interrogation too. He sits next to her in English.”

“Probably because her body was gutted.” He scoffed.

You flinched, despite having already accepted that Yelena’s murder would be the only topic of conversation for the following couple of months.

“Wow, thanks for that Piet.” Kate scolded, ever aware of your reaction.

“They didn’t ask me if I like to hunt.” Peter chimed in, to which everyone looked at him, confused. “They questioned me too. Not sure why. I saw her in the library sometimes, but that was it.”

“They didn’t ask you because… well- look at you!” Pietro snorted, gesturing at Peter who, admittedly did not look capable of murder. He was well-built, but often had a pair of glasses perched upon his nose, and a pathetic attempt at growing facial hair paired with hand-me-down sweaters in all weather, hot or cold.

“Yeah, Yelena was completely hollowed out. Takes a man to do something like that.” Wanda added, while softly stroking a thumb along your arm, as if that made it all better.

“Or a man’s mentality.” You commented, finding that if you thought about the whole situation as being purely theoretical, it wasn’t too bad. “How do you gut someone?” You said, more to yourself than aloud.

There was a beat of surprised silence.

“Well, you just take a knife,” Pietro grabbed a pencil from his pocket, held it out as though it were a weapon, “and slit from the groin to the sternum.” He mimed slicing through the air, making a hissing sound.

You shivered down to your soul. Never had you expected Pietro to have such an unapologetically violent imagination. You almost hated him for it. A glance at Kate revealed the same expression of shock, not having expected such graphic insensitivity from her boyfriend.

“What?” Pietro exclaimed. “She asked.” He laughed, throwing the pencil down.

“You couldn’t have been a little more sensitive?” Wanda chastised; a barely suppressed rage hidden in her tone. “Someone died last night, and you’re acting like it had nothing to do with us. Yelena was Y/N’s friend. She went to this school, attended our lessons, was our classmate. Be more tactful.” She spat.

You couldn’t help but swell with pride at Wanda’s outburst, and in the tense avoidance of eye contact that followed amongst the group, you quickly kissed her cheek in thanks.

“Sorry.” Pietro rubbed his forehead, bashfully avoiding anyone’s gaze except for his sister’s. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He threw his hands up in mock surrender, and for a blessed second, you thought it was all over. And then, he turned to you with an exaggerated curiosity. “Weren’t you and Yelena more than friends at one point?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. It had been a long, long time since than rumour had circulated the school. Although, there was some truth behind it… You and Yelena had been friends since middle school, and there had been a few moments when you had considered perhaps pursuing a relationship with her. But every time you tried it, you both ended up concluding that you were better off just staying friends.

You felt Wanda tense beside you, snapping you back into reality. “Not really. We tried it ages ago. Didn’t work out...” You explained, trailing off towards the end. You hadn’t been with Wanda long enough for the topic to arise, but there was no way she didn’t know. The school wasn’t big, and gossip was traded amongst everyone, whether they be a loner outcast or stereotypical popular cheerleader.

“Ahh…” Pietro nodded slowly, feigning ignorance. “And you dumped her for my sister?

You gritted your teeth, hating how such an insignificant part of your past was suddenly in the limelight. “I didn’t dump her because we never really dated. And we’ve been nothing but friends for over two years now- or I guess were.”

“Come on, Pietro. Are you trying to insinuate Wanda is some revengeful, jealous girlfriend?” Peter joked, trying to lighten the tension that had fallen across your table.

Wanda laughed, though the humour didn’t spread beyond her lips.

“Actually, she was with me last night.” You placed a hand on her upper thigh, grasped at the muscle there and felt it flex. “Too busy being stupidly committed and climbing through my window to enact her revenge.”

“Yeah, exactly.” She fixed Pietro with a pointed stare. “Besides, like I said, it takes a man to do something like that.”

...

You got the bus home that day, unwilling to walk your usual route back from school alone while there was a possible killer on the loose. After all, if they’d gone for your friend Yelena, who’s to say they wouldn’t be targeting you next? As you stepped inside your house, shutting the door securely behind you, it dawned on you that you might not truly be safe even here. Nobody was. Not until they caught whoever had murdered Yelena.

Suddenly, you got the distinct feeling that you were being watched, as though the killer had eyes in the walls of your home. You shivered and called out for your dad- only to be met with silence. Panic began to rise in your chest, amplifying with every footstep that echoed through the empty house. The stuffy air became suffocating, the walls closing in around you as you searched each room. All the furniture lay dormant and undisturbed, awaiting someone’s arrival. Your heart was in your throat, your mind jumping to all the worst conclusions about where your father was.

By your second lap around the house, your eyes landed on a note pinned to the fridge. You stormed over, yanked the paper free from the magnet and with shaking hands scanned the page. It was from your father, a scribbled explanation that his brother in the next state over had fallen seriously ill and he needed to visit immediately. The note explained that he had tried to ring the school but got no answer, eventually giving up and having to leave without you.

The final line detailed that he had left a wad of cash for you to order food and fend for yourself for the foreseeable future, which you retrieved right away. You flipped the bills around in your hand, feeling the textured paper as if to ground yourself, to convince yourself this was real, not some fabricated trick by a murderer currently stalking you. After the day you’d had, anything could be possible.

But, oh god- your dad must not have known. He had left town at possibly the worst moment being none the wiser. And you were stuck here, genuinely unable to imagine any worse time to be home alone. Your hands itched to pick up the phone, to try dialling your uncle’s house, pray someone would pick up so you could demand your father return home as soon as physically possible. But that would be cruel, and so instead, you typed in Kate’s number.

Her mother answered after a couple seconds and made briefly awkward small talk before calling out to her daughter, who came running.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you alright? I was gonna call and check-“

“Yeah, yeah, Kate, I’m fine.” You interrupted. “But look, my dad’s had to leave for some family emergency and,“

“Oh shit, you’re alone?” Her voice quickly succumbed to worry, one which made you smile despite everything. You were lucky to have such a caring friend. “Do you want to come stay with us for a while?”

“Please.” You let out a sigh of relief. “That’s what I was calling about. I’m not sure how long my dad will be gone for but…”

“Yeah, of course it’s no worry.” She assured. “I’ll pick you up after archery practice?”

“Sure. When do you finish?”

“Six-thirty. So, I’ll be there by seven at the latest. I promise.”

A glance at the clock revealed it was only four. You swallowed back your paranoia, reasoning that you would spend most of the time packing anyway. “Ok great. Thanks. Are you sure your mom will be alright with it?”

“Of course. No one wants to be alone with everything that’s happened. She’ll understand.”

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

“Later!”

The silence that engulfed your house after the phone call ended was oppressive, broken up only by small creaks and taps which made you jump out of your skin. To combat this, you grabbed your old, beat-up Walkman from your school bag, tugging the headphones over your head and grabbing enough cassettes to last several hours of constant music. Then, to fill the silence between each song, you flicked the TV on to whatever channel had been left playing.  

Although muffled, you still heard the reporter, the one you had seen earlier today outside the school. Pepper…whatever her name was. You watched, partially interested whether you would make a cameo in the background.

“The state Bureau of Investigation has joined forces with local authorities to help catch what the Governor has called the most heinous crime ever committed in Westview.” Her teeth were an obnoxious gleaming white, her expression displaying an emotion not quite fit for the story she was currently presenting.

“The victim, seventeen-year-old Yelena Belova was found last night in her home…”

You tuned out to Pepper’s words as a picture filled the screen, a candid of Yelena, who somehow looked younger than you remembered. It hadn’t even been long since you had last seen her, yet the time that had passed felt like years. You wanted the snapshot to stay on screen forever, so you could commit every detail about her to memory. You couldn’t forget her. You refused.

Yelena stared at you from the TV screen as tears blurred your vision, the cassette flipping to an aptly melancholic song.

Then, as Pepper continued to drone on, the image flicked to a different one, this one of her official school picture. Despite everything, you burst out laughing at this, imagining how unhappy Yelena would’ve been to see this photo displayed on national television. She hated it. You didn’t blame her. The photo looked much too formal, an awkward contrast to the reality of who Yelena was. You wondered whether the news would report her life as it was, or if they’d spin the tale into something much more tragic: that she was a Straight-A student, destined for something great, her life so tragically cut short.

Probably.

With a roll of your eyes, you reached out for the TV remote, switching the channel until something fictional- or unrelated to Yelena came on, eventually settling on some old rerun of an TV show your dad liked to watch. The familiarity of it was enough that you could finally relax, pretending nothing out of the ordinary had occurred that day… It wasn’t long until your eyes fluttered close, your body sinking into the plush couch and to unconsciousness.  

A shrill ringing jolted you awake, resonating round the still-empty house. You thought it’d been minutes since you fell asleep, but a quick glance at the clock showed the time to be 6 pm. Confused by the loud intrusion, your gaze snapped around the room, now darkened by dusk.

The last pinkish hue of sunlight highlighted the phone perched on the side table and answered your unspoken question. Launching across the cushions and throwing your hand out, you grasped onto the object and brought it to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was hoarse having just woken up, and a slight annoyance crept into your tone.

“Hello, Y/N.” A man’s voice answered. Deep, raspy and entirely unfamiliar.

“Hi…” You answered hesitantly, perturbed by the fact he already knew your name. “Who is this?”

“You tell me.”

You frowned, lips quirking up in polite amusement. “I have no idea.” As much as you racked your brain for the possible culprit, his voice was too distorted to properly place.

“Scary night, isn’t it? With the murders and all…” He said instead, abruptly changing the topic to one you were infinitely less fond of. “It’s like right out of a horror movie or something.”

“Aha,” you nodded to yourself, reaching a conclusion. “Peter, you gave yourself away. You’re such a nerd.” Able to relax, at last, you collapsed back down on the sofa.

“Do you like scary movies, Y/N?”

“I like that thing you’re doing with your voice, Peter.” You replied instead. “Very sexy.”

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“Don’t start.” You scoffed, growing increasingly irritated at his commitment to the act. “You know I think they’re all shit.”

“And why is that?”

You sighed down the phoneline, listening to the silence as he waited for a response and debating whether it was truly worth answering or just hanging up. “Because they’re all the same. It’s always some stupid killer stalking some innocent girl who can’t act- who always runs up the stairs when she should be going out the front door. They’re ridiculous.”

Finishing the rant, you took a deep breath and were met by more silence.

And then, “Are you alone in the house?”

“That is so unoriginal. You disappoint me, Peter.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m not Peter.”

“So who are you?” Hot anger flushed against your chest as you sat up straight. Something here wasn’t quite right…

“The question is not who I am…” He paused ominously. “The question is where am I?”

Your boiling anger was immediately flushed by cold fear.

“So where are you?”

There was a deep, mocking laugh which crackled into your ear like static.

“Your front porch.”

You leapt up from your seat, determined to expose the prank for what it was and put an end to the insensitive joke. Your heart was thundering in your chest as you moved to the window and pulled aside the drapes, muttering into the phone, “Why would you call me from my front porch?”

“That’s the original part.”

You tried to angle your view through the window, unable to see all of the porch. “Oh yeah?” The porch seemed to be empty. “Well, I call your bluff.”

Feeling more secure in your belief, you went to the front door, unlocking the bolt, unsnagging the chain and pulling it open. As expected, the outside porch was completely empty, lit by a single light shining overhead, with little beyond but darkness.

“So where are you really?” You challenged at the mysterious caller’s silence.

“Right here.” He growled.

You peered closer into the darkness, into the thick shrubs growing on either side of the house and still seeing nothing. “Can you see me right now?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What am I doing?” You stuck your middle finger into the air, waving it about in the air for a few seconds.

There was no answer.

“Good try, Peter.” You shook your head incredulously. “Bye now.”

“If you hang up, you’ll die just like Yelena.” The voice spat before you could pull the phone away from your ear.

You stopped dead in your tracks at his sudden seriousness, rendered speechless that Peter would say such a thing. Or perhaps, it really wasn’t him, which could only mean…

“Do you want to die, Y/N? Yelena certainly didn’t. She begged and cried, crawled across her carpet like the pathetic, insipid little…”

“Fuck you!” You interrupted, hands shaking and voice wavering. You hung up, stepped back inside the house and locked the door again.

Behind you, the hall closet door slammed open. You jumped, turning round in time to see a figure clad in black charging at you, ramming into your side. The phone flew out of your hand as you crashed to the ground, pinned down by the intruder wearing a distorted, white, ghostly mask. The type you had seen so many times, sold cheaply in costume stores and Halloween displays. Yet now, it actually was terrifying.

Your instincts finally surfaced as you kicked your foot into his leg, causing him to topple over. Wasting no time, you leapt to your feet and slammed into the front door, hands scrambling to unlock it again. Before you could escape, the figure rose, knife in hand, and grabbed onto your torso to drag you back. With survival mode having taken over, you were able to fight back with all of your strength, pulling, jerking and twisting to break free. You managed to free yourself from his grip, pushing the figure off you and sending him reeling into the living room.

Feeling fear tightening its hold on you, and seeing the futility of your escape, you made the daring move to turn and sprint up the stairs. The figure was hot on your heels as your heart pounded loudly in your ears. You reached the landing just as he lunged at you, grabbing a hold of your foot to slow you down. Panicking, you desperately grasped around you, nails scraping against the walls until they landed on a framed painting. Without sparing a glance at the image, you ripped it from the wall in a surge of might, swinging it behind you to smash against the figure’s skull.

You watched, wide-eyed as he staggered backwards, clutching at his head and tumbling down the stairs. Not wanting to waste the moment of respite you had bought for yourself; you raced into your bedroom and locked the door. There were a horrid couple of seconds of stillness throughout the house, broken only by your heavy breathing- and then, the banging began. A fist pounded against wood, and rattled the doorknob, as you frantically scanned your room.

You had left the phone downstairs and opted instead to dash over to the computer, fingers darting across the keyboard in a panicked frenzy. You spared a glance back at the door, seeing the figure had begun splintering the frame with his knife. Then, you turned back to the computer and hit send on a FAX message to 911 for help. As the blade continued its assault, cracking wood and sending splinters flying throughout your room, you typed even faster, trying to stay calm as you waited and watched a response appear on the screen.

STAY CALM. POLICE ENROUTE.

You let out a breath of slight relief, the message offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos… Only then, you realised that the figure had stopped. No more shards of wood were flying through the air, no blurred silver of the knife swinging around. You were alone now, accompanied by a haunting silence that had descended upon your home.

Suddenly, a noise at the window frame. You swivelled around, prepared to fight once more only to be met by Wanda, staring at you with surprise palpable in her expression.

“Oh, Wanda.” A sob racked your body as you shook uncontrollably, the reality of the situation finally dawning on you. “Please…God.” You brought a hand to your face, then flung it down, anxiously shifting your weight about as adrenaline kept you on your toes.

“I heard screaming, and the door was locked. Are you okay?” Wanda’s warm brown eyes flickered over your tense form, tears streaming endlessly and blurring your vision.

“He’s here. Trying to kill me…” You managed out.

Wanda’s face turned shocked as she pulled herself through the window with more urgency. As she did, a small black object fell from the back pocket of her jeans, landing against the carpet with a soft thud and drawing your attention downwards. Sat inconspicuously between the two of you was a sleek, compact cell phone. Any other day and it wouldn’t have made you concerned in the slightest… but now….

You stopped dead in your tracks, an icy sickness rising in your throat, something akin to distrust. You met Wanda’s gaze, which no longer held the comfort you sought.

Could it possibly be…? Had Wanda just tried to kill you?

Unwilling to face that possibility, you bolted.

You ignored Wanda calling after you, rushing to unlock the fractured bedroom door and tearing down the stairs, nearly slipping on the linoleum floor as you caught sight of the front door. Freedom. You skidded to a halt, ripped the chain off the door and urgently tugged it open.

“Y/N, wait!” Footsteps rapidly descended the stairs behind you as you dashed onto the front porch and were instantly blinded by flashes of blue and red.

Police cars screeched to a halt outside the house, their sirens blaring in the lonely night air. You paused, relief flooding your system at the first sign of safety. You were scared, lightheaded and dazed, but you were safe, at last.

“Y/N?” Wanda called out again, softer this time. Her voice betrayed a hint of disappointment, one you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back at. She was lingering in the doorway, red and blue lights exposing the innocent shock on her face. Guilt suffused throughout your body, which made you long to crash into her arms and lose yourself to the comfort. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, your mind flickering back to the phone that had fallen out of her pocket, convicting her as a potential suspect.

But could she really be? Your girlfriend, a murderer?

You flinched as Wanda took a cautious step towards you. Her face fell at the involuntary movement, and you were thankful to hear the car doors slamming shut behind you, followed by an all too familiar voice demanding for Wanda to freeze.

Tony Stark appeared next to you, gun loaded and aimed straight ahead as he approached you both, assessing the scene. He paused, gaze flickering over Wanda with suspicion.

“Y/L/N, what’s going on here?” He asked sternly.

Your eyes swept over Wanda, considering whether you were truly willing to hand her over so easily.

“I’m not sure.” You answered instead, your voice hoarse, but carrying an undeniable certainty.

“Please, baby.” Wanda implored you, the nickname sending a chill across your skin. Whether it was pleasant or not, you weren’t sure. “You know I would never.” Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head.

And you wanted to believe her, you really did.

But you couldn’t.

“I don’t know anything, Wanda. Not right now.”

...

The front yard of your house soon became a whirlwind of activity. You observed the scene disinterestedly from a distance, sat in the back of an ambulance following a check-up from the first responders. Apart from a couple of bruises and a cut on your arm, you had escaped unscathed from the attack and were told to consider yourself lucky. But you didn’t. You remained in a state of shock, as barely ten minutes ago, you had watched the cops handcuff your girlfriend and throw her into the back of a squad car.

It was hardly a lucky outcome.

At the present moment, she was their only suspect, and so you had let them take her, uncertain of anything except for a need for safety. To have someone answer for the attack, locked away so you could live and forget. Though the guilt stopped you from being able to do so.

Numbly, you watched as Tony and the sheriff, whose name you had yet to learn, started heading your way. They both had an awkward expression of pity, which was a rare sight on Tony Stark’s face and made you feel somehow worse. The sheriff stopped a couple of feet away, his pitying gaze never leaving you as Tony slumped down beside you.

“We’re seeing a lot of you today.” He patted your back reassuringly, though the gesture made you nauseous. “You gonna be able to come down to the station and talk to us in a bit?”

You tried to smile but failed. “Yeah…”

In the distance, a flash of purple caught your attention, weaving in and out of the maze of police cars and officers.

“Y/N?” Kate appeared, barrelling past an officer and jogging over to the ambulance. “What happened? Oh god…” She covered her mouth with her hand as she stared at the chaos currently surrounding your home.

“Sorry, you can’t be here,” The sheriff grasped onto her arm, prepared to drag her out. “This is an official crime scene.”

“It’s okay.” You quickly interrupted. “She was supposed to pick me up.”

“Yeah.” Kate’s eyes frantically darted between the intimidating figures. “Her dad’s out of town. She’s staying with me.”

Both officers looked questioningly over at you.

“I didn’t want to be home alone.”

“Well, I can see why.” Tony agreed after a beat of silence, then stood up to allow Kate to sit down next to you.

“Are you alright?” She asked, ignoring the obvious curiosity in her expression in lieu of checking you were okay first. It made your heart swell momentarily with a fondness for your friend, more concerned by your current state than the events that had just transpired.

You opened your mouth to respond, though never got the chance to as another set of vans arrived outside the house. They skidded to a halt with the same urgency as the first responders had, though with no markings indicating such on the side.

Tony sighed, staring at the vehicles disapprovingly. “Here come the vultures.”

Right on cue, the door to the van slid open and a figure clad in a red suit hopped down onto the road. She stood out from the rest of the onlookers, gazing round at the scene with a barely hidden interest, her vibrant clothing abrasive and eye-catching. The unmistakable colour of blood. Her face fell upon you at the opposite end of the yard, and you recognised her as the infamous Pepper Potts.

“Alright, let’s get you out of here.” Tony offered out his arm.

You hauled yourself up as Kate positioned herself beside you, shielding you from the oncoming media frenzy. You kept your head down as you drew closer to the reporter, praying she didn’t notice you walk past.

“Jesus! The camera, Happy- hurry!” She clicked her fingers at the cameraman, then you heard heels clicking as she jogged to catch up with you. “Excuse me!” She yelled out, almost elbowing Tony out of the way. You were exposed, seeing Pepper’s pearly whites, a microphone clutched in her hand and a camera following closely to be shoved in your face.  

“There are no statements to be made at this current moment.” Tony recovered, raising a hand over the lens of the camera. “Maybe get a life, stop stalking and come back at the appropriate-“

“Hi, Miss Y/L/N, right?” Her gaze softened momentarily as she ignored Tony.

You halted, perturbed by the fact she already knew your name.

“Some night.” She exclaimed when you didn’t speak. Pepper glanced back at the camera dramatically, then feigned concern. “Are you alright?”

You knew she was only asking to get a verbal response for the camera. You were visibly shaking, your face pale and eyes wide. Quite clearly you were not okay, and reluctant to provide her with an answer.

“What happened?” Pepper prompted at your silence.

“She’s not answering any questions right now. Just leave us alone, okay?” Kate interrupted, putting herself between you and Pepper and fixing her with a frown.

“It’s fine.” You sighed, waving a hand nonchalantly, though you felt anything but. “She’s just doing her job.”

“Exactly.” Pepper smiled, seemingly taken aback. “Now what can you tell us about the event that transpired here?”

You shrugged. “I was attacked.”

“And do you have any idea who was behind the attack, or perhaps what instigated it?”

“Well, I got a phone call from some creep.” You grimaced, unwilling to share the full details. “But otherwise, I have no idea.” You smiled, hoping that would be the end of Pepper’s interrogation, and perhaps she’d leave you alone.

You were wrong.

“And could this be related to the recent death of Yelena Belova? I’d heard the two of you were close.”

You narrowed your eyes, unable to ignore the emphasis she put on the word ‘close.’

“Or maybe that’s not quite the correct phrasing.” She pursed her lips in mock thoughtfulness. “Together?”

You tensed, your face going taut at the suggestion, then forced yourself to relax. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with-“

“So, you were in a relationship with Miss Belova?” She interrupted once again, seeming to already have reached a conclusion without your input.

“No, never anything as serious as that…” Your voice was strained now, as you tried desperately to correct the assumption.

“An unrequited-“

“No!” It was your turn to intervene, hopefully putting an end to Pepper’s outlandish theories. “Nothing really happened, and it was so long ago-“

“Perhaps you resented Yelena for never wanting to be with you.” Pepper continued, spinning your words into a wild accusation. “Perhaps, it even drove you to murder- one you’re attempting to cover up now by faking an attack.”

“Faking?” Kate cut in incredulously.

“That’s bullshit.” You exclaimed, unable to suppress your slowly building rage. “And you know it.”

“Well, I’m just throwing ideas out,” she shrugged infuriatingly, then turned on Tony, “seeing as the police have yet to make any official statement or provide the concerned citizens of Westview with any reassurances.”

“We’re… working on it.” Tony stuttered out, caught off guard by the sudden criticism.

“Well, you better get working fast, officer.” She scoffed. “And it’s hard to ignore the relation between both attacks.” She looked back at the camera. “Having shared a brief, intimate relationship between two young adults of the same sex. Are these attacks politically motivated? Religious, perhaps? Maybe rather than focusing on the personal motive, the killer intends to send out a message of-“

“Fuck you.” You interrupted, clenching your jaw to keep you from saying anything worse.

Pepper looked at you in disbelief. “I think you ought to watch your language, young lady. Your moral character seems to have already drawn enough attention.”

In a blurred, unexpected instant, you brought your fist forward and smashed it hard into Pepper Pott’s face. The impact sent Pepper reeling backwards, knocking into Happy and his ridiculously expensive camera as they both tumbled to the pavement.

“Hey! Hey.” Tony outstretched his arm, physically blocking you. “That’s enough. I think it’s time we go.”

You took a deep, satisfied breath seeing the two piled on the ground, then allowed yourself to be tugged along and into the back of Tony’s squad car. You didn’t care if Pepper managed to spin the events and make you look bad, or if it worsened your reputation. It had been worth it to wipe the smug smile from her face.

...

“God, I loved it!” Kate laughed and threw herself back onto the bed. “Oh, Y/N, you need to be careful, your bad moral proclivities and your bad language will be the death of you!”

You perched on the other side of Kate’s bed, chuckling at her bad impression of Pepper.

“And then BAM! Bitch went down.” Kate thumped her fist into her palm and laughed some more.

“Talking of…” Tony appeared in the doorway, clutching a bag of ice. “I thought you might want some ice for that right hook.”

He tossed the bag of ice over, which you caught and placed over your reddening fist, wincing at the bruise already forming.

“I’ve got two officers stationed outside the house all night, so if anything happens, they’ll be here” He continued, clearly exhausted and ready to head home after the long night.

You nodded and thanked him. “Any word on reaching my dad?” You quickly asked before he disappeared. You had given the cops your uncle’s number, and despite the incessant number of times it’d been rung, they had received no answer so far.

“Afraid not, kid. But we’ll let you know when we do.”

“If you do…” You muttered bitterly. “Pretty shitty timing for my uncle to fall so seriously ill.”

“Or maybe it’s all related?” Kate chimed in, looking conspiratorially between the two of you. “Maybe the killer planned it all…”

You thought for a moment. “Nah. My uncle has heart problems, it’s probably to do with that.”

“Real great theory Kate.” Tony snarked. “Maybe you should try submitting it to Pepper Pott’s investigatory website.”

“She has a website?” You scoffed at the idea.

“Yeah.” Tony nodded slowly, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“And how do you know?” Kate smirked. “You a fan, Stark?”

“Well, it is my job to investigate.”

You and Kate shared a knowing look.

“And if that investigation happens to involve a ridiculously attractive, if slightly intense journalist, then so be it.” He shrugged, brazenly unashamed.

Suddenly, the phone stationed on the bedside table started ringing, sending a jolt of panic coursing through you. Its shrill sound echoed uncomfortably in the bedroom as Tony quirked an eyebrow, and Kate looked at the item as though it were going to bite should she answer the call.

You were all slightly paranoid, to say the least.

“I guess I should get that…” Kate gulped and reached an uncertain hand out to grasp the phone. “It’s probably just Peter… or someone.”

You instinctively knew that wasn’t the case. Peter would have an idea of what was happening as Tony was hardly discrete when talking to his nephew, and the only other person it could possibly be was Pietro… You shuddered at that possibility. That he might blame you for accusing Wanda. That he would be angry.

Kate took a breath. “Hello?”

You didn’t need to hear the person on the other end, Kate’s face was telling enough. Her eyes flickered over to you as she answered, “yeah, she’s right here.”

And then, the device was being handed over to you by your terrified-looking friend. Your brain screamed not to take it, rather pass it on to Tony, but your heart reasoned that if it truly was the killer, then Wanda’s name would be cleared, and that was something you couldn’t pass up. Besides, nobody would be able to identify the voice except you.

Your sweaty palm enclosed the phone and brought it slowly to your ear. “Who is this?” You forced out, sending a last-minute prayer that it might just be your dad, finally getting back in contact.

“Hello Y/N.” The same, raspy voice taunted.

Hot tears immediately welled up in your vision as the memory came rushing back anew. “No.” You murmured, covering your face as though to block out this horrid reality. The killer was committed, and somehow knew you would be here. It was a horrifying prospect.

But at least it wasn’t Wanda…

“Poor Wanda,” the anonymous voice sang out, “innocent and locked away in a prison cell for the night. You know this kind of thing goes on permanent records, right?”

“Hey!” Tony boomed out, conclusive in his decision as he stormed across the room and snatched the phone from you. “I’m afraid Miss Y/L/N has had to dash off, can I take a message?”

The clock in Kate’s room ticked away, marking five seconds of silence before Tony spoke again.

“Or maybe leave an email. Hotmails really taking off these days, it’ll save money on your phone bill.”

You heard the telltale buzz as the line went dead, prompting Tony to slam the phone back down and mutter “damn.”

A cold sense of dread settled over the room, like the killer was somehow watching you now, ever present, ever aware of your whereabouts. But it simply wasn’t possible… The only people who knew you were here were Kate, her mother, Tony, and the rest of the police force. Unless someone had simply guessed, meaning it had to be somebody close to you, who knew you well enough to anticipate your every move.

That prospect was no less concerning, and so you resigned yourself to trying to sleep that night without sparing a thought to the perilous situation you had found yourself in.

...

The atmosphere in school was like nothing you had ever seen before. The corridors seemed narrower, constricting all around you, the students inhabiting them more rowdy than usual. Classes dragged on longer than necessary, and you were unable to focus on what the teachers were droning on about. You were paranoid, too preoccupied by the knowing glances constantly being thrown back at you to care about anything else. The likelihood that the killer was someone you knew kept replaying in your mind, suspicion lacing every interaction with your friends and peers at school. Hell, even the teachers.

And the worst part was that you kept seeing that damned mask everywhere.

To the people who had no connection to you or Yelena, this was the most exciting thing to happen in Westview in their lifetime, and they certainly weren’t going to miss out on the festivities that some were partaking in. As you walked between classes, figures in the same cheap, ghostly Halloween mask sprinted up and down the corridors, chasing one another and reenacting what for you was fresh trauma.

“This is a mistake. I shouldn’t be here.” You confessed to Kate after witnessing the third Ghost-faced imposter.

She frowned, equally as perturbed by the way the school reacted to such disturbing events. “I want you to meet me here right after class, okay?” She demanded, unwilling to separate seeing the state you were in.

You nodded and smiled, then went to reassure her you would be fine, but something more important caught your attention.

“Shit, what is she doing here?” Kate exclaimed softly.

You were both transfixed, helplessly watching as the Maximoff twins were making their way over to you. Wanda looked tired, that much was clear. You hadn’t given any previous thought to the fact she would likely be released following the phone call to you last night, let alone expect her to make an appearance in school- probably only to see you.

In contrast to Wanda’s exhaustion, Pietro looked angry, and you prayed that anger wasn’t directed at you, though you wouldn’t blame him if it was. Noticing this, Kate went ahead to grab onto Pietro’s shoulders and try slow the warpath he was on. While he was momentarily distracted, Wanda came to a stop in front of you, her eyes cautiously seeking out your own. It was strange to see her after everything that had occurred, made more surreal by the fact that it was in such a mundane setting.

“Hey Y/N. Can we talk a sec?” She spoke so fast, but softly, as though afraid she was about to be dragged away once again.

You couldn’t hold the eye contact and flickered back to Kate in a silent cry for help.

“You know, if I were accused of carving up someone and attacking my girlfriend, I’d take the opportunity to skip school.” She called to Wanda warily.

“Hey, go easy, Kate.” Pietro interrupted. “She didn’t do it.” You could practically see him gritting his teeth together in an attempt to stop himself from saying worse.

You paid them no mind, summoning the resolve to turn back to your girlfriend. “Fine, five minutes.” Glancing around at the several unfamiliar pairs of eyes watching interestedly, you added, “Girl’s bathroom, now.”

Clutching your textbooks to your chest, you marched through the hallways with Wanda in tow. She didn’t say a word until you had shut the door behind you and checked every stall, confirming that the bathroom was actually empty.

“You… don’t think it was me, right?” Wanda maintained a distance from you, nervously wringing her hands.

You took a deep breath, reasoning that surely it couldn’t be. “No.”

Wanda nodded, managing out a tearful smile.

“I don’t think it was you… just… oh god.” You felt yourself begin to cry, reliving what you had felt at the time of the attack, and unable to find the words to explain. “Someone tried to kill me…” You sniffed, snatching a wad of toilet paper from one of the toilet stalls to dry your face.

“I know, the police say I scared him off.” Wanda looked at you, so unconditionally in love with you that it made your chest ache. “It wasn’t me, Y/N.”

“I know.” You repeated, firmer this time. “The killer called me again last night at Kate’s house.”

“See, it couldn’t have been me. I was in jail, remember?” Wanda reminded, her caring façade temporarily dropping in lieu of proving her innocence. “But shit, how did he know you would be there?” She asked quickly.

“I don’t know.” You bit down on your lip, shaking your head. “But I’m sorry, for accusing you. I wasn’t in my right mind…”

“It’s fine, baby.” Wanda tentatively closed the space between you, wrapping her arms loosely around your shaking form. She pulled you in, resting your chin on her shoulder. “I would’ve done the same.”

Her lips pressed gently against your neck, then enclosed around the skin and sucked lightly. Her grip around your body suddenly tightened, the touch turning from sweet to lustful so fast it made your head spin. She trailed her mouth further up, leaving your skin damp against the cold air and making you shiver. The usual heat that accompanied her contact was nowhere to be found, and it abruptly dawned upon you that this was wrong.

“Wanda.” You murmured in an attempt to reprimand her.

Taking it as a moan, she continued on, her touch growing tighter, almost painfully.

“Wan-“ You pushed against her, only to find she wouldn’t budge. “Wanda, stop!” You felt claustrophobic in her arms and shoved her suddenly backwards.

She stumbled away, looking at you with a mix of hurt and shock.

“You still don’t trust me?” She could hardly contain the frustration in her voice, emphasised by her heavy breathing and burning glare.

“No, that’s not true.”

“Then what is it?” She spat. “You don’t want to be around me. Is there somebody else?”

“No!”

“You’re missing Yelena?”

“Yes- but as a friend!” You argued, desperate for a chance to speak, to explain yourself. “I just, I don’t want that right now.” You flailed your hands around, hoping she got the message in spite of your ineloquent explanation.

“I’m being too pushy.” She wasn’t as angry now but still had disappointment palpable in her expression.

“No, it’s just- it’s me, Wanda.” You sighed. “I need time, and considering everything that’s just happened, I think that’s more than reasonable.”

“It is. You’re right” Wanda exhaled and turned away from you. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

Despite everything, you still hated seeing her like this, and reached out to grab hold of her hands. “And I’m sorry for thinking you were the killer. I regretted it as soon as I said it.”

Wanda nodded slowly, staring down at your intertwined hands. She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open. You quickly broke apart, and she looked up at you, slightly sadly, before muttering, “See you soon, Y/N.”

And with that, Wanda was gone, leaving you reeling in your thoughts with tear tracks still fresh on your cheeks. You opted to sit in one of the stalls and regain your composure before heading to your next class, listening numbly to the sound of people coming and going from the bathroom for the next ten or so minutes. Screw being late.

You were just about to finally leave when two new voices entered the room, both vaguely familiar but not enough for you to make your presence known.

“What if she did it?” You heard one say, voice ever so recognisable. “What if Y/N killed Yelena?”

“And why would she do that?” A second asked, exasperated but curious.

“Don’t you remember they used to be a thing? Maybe Yelena ended it and Y/N never got over the rejection.”

“But she’s with that weird girl now- right? Pietro’s brother.”

You frowned to yourself. You knew Pietro was much more popular than his sister, but the school’s general distaste towards Wanda had always upset you.

“So why would Yelena matter anymore?” The girl continued.

“Because Yelena was cool, and fun, and Y/N knew that being with her was probably the peak of her life. Waldo- or whatever she’s called- is such a downgrade.”  

The other voice laughed cruelly. “That’s true. I think I’d kill myself.”

“Exactly, but teen suicide is out this year and homicide is a much healthier therapeutic expression, hence, Y/N killed Yelena.” She punctuated the last few words with a manicured nail tapping against the porcelain sink.

The reverberating click made you shiver uncomfortably, listening to their dumb theories and trying your best not to take it personally. But- that voice, it had finally clicked into place: it was Agatha. She was notoriously a wild gossip, still, you never knew she had it out for you like this.

“God maybe you’re right.”

You heard their footsteps head over towards the exit, their annoying voices diminishing as the door slammed shut. You were left in silence, marked only by water dripping somewhere from a leaky pipe, and the sound of wind whistling from the cracked transom above the door. It almost sounded like a whisper, luring you out of the safety of the locked stall.

Catching sight of your reflection in the mirror, you recognised evident tear streaks down your cheeks, accompanied by a general expression of annoyance. The whole situation, and the way your school had turned it into a joke, left you alternating constantly between resentment and anxiety. But there was no time to dwell on it, as you heard that dreadful whisper again…

“Y/N…” The word struck you like a nail through the eye. A stark confirmation that someone else was in here with you. But all the stalls appeared to be empty.

You could only hear the sound of your own rapid breathing, that same rhythmic drip and the haunting whistle of the wind, leaving you to wonder whether your brain was simply playing tricks on you in this tense state.

There was a long, morose pause, and then, “It’s me, Y/N.”

“Fuck no.” Terror flooded your face as you spun on your heel, noting that to get to the exit, you would have to walk past the row of stalls. You took a reluctant step forward, ducking under the stall to see nothing, then the next, and the next, until finally, the last stall. It was empty at first, and you considered that maybe you were really just going crazy.

But then, two feet stepped down from the toilet onto the floor in the final stall. You were paralysed, face drawn tight as the door began to creak open, revealing Ghostface clutching the same knife as before.

You swivelled on your feet, crashing through the door but feeling a hand grip onto your shoulder and tug you back. Bracing yourself for the eventual feeling of a knife digging into your back, you ducked out of the grip and barrelled straight back into him, sending you both crashing to the slippery bathroom floor. You were able to launch yourself up before the attacker, and launched yourself through the exit before he could grab hold of you.

Without looking back, you sprinted through the hallway, ignoring the questioning look of a teacher you passed and heading straight for the principal’s office. You knew that only the top authority would be able to help you out. Nick Fury was perhaps the most intimidating teacher you had ever known, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he were to track down and kill Ghostface himself.

You burst through the door to his office, being met by two students holding ghost masks in the middle of a berating.

“He’s here… I saw him.” You sobbed out, hysterical but unashamed of your reaction. “He’s here…”

Fury rushed towards you, placing a comforting hand on either shoulder to ground you. “Where? What happened?”

You gulped back a sob, attempting to form some comprehendible recount of the events. But you couldn’t bring yourself to. All that replayed in your mind was the realisation that this was your new reality. There was someone after you, who clearly wouldn’t stop until you were dead.

Fury gave up on getting any coherent answer from you and called the cops, who arrived promptly having been stationed outside. They searched the girl’s toilets and found no evidence of any attacker lurking there, but assured you full protection from now on, starting with Tony Stark escorting both you and Kate home immediately.  She was pulled from class, and you were told to wait outside while they finished one last sweep of the building.

Sitting next to Kate on a bench, you were finally able to catch your breath, and took the opportunity to briefly explain to Kate what had happened, refusing to dwell on your conversation with Wanda, or the rather unpleasant end of it.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one listening.

“Attacked, again?” Pepper revealed herself from inside an inconspicuous-looking van, clearly having been waiting and watching for something to happen.

“You were spying on us?” Kate exclaimed incredulously. “Surely that’s against the law…”

���No, just good journalism.”

“Hey, hey!” Tony arrived at the perfect moment, clicking his fingers at Pepper. “You, you’re not supposed to be here.” As much as you trusted Tony for protection, you could see how his eyes trailed over Pepper distractedly.

“For a police officer, you don’t have the best focus,” Pepper smirked, seeing his wandering gaze.

You rolled your eyes at the interaction, feeling a flush of anger towards Tony.

“Well, I’d say it’s because you’re much prettier in person.” He replied, ever the flirt.

Pepper was about to respond, but never got the chance to. There was a sudden crackle in the air, signifying the PA system had sparked to life.

Nick Fury’s sombre tone filled the air, as you all stopped to listen. “Your attention, please. Due to the recent events that have occurred and until it comes to a resolve, effective immediately, all classes are suspended till further notice.”

Despite being outside the building, you heard a schoolwide cheer from inside, imagining the shared joy amongst everyone regardless of the dire circumstances.

“The Westview Police Department has also asked me to announce a city-wide curfew beginning at 6pn.” Fury finished, to which you heard a palpable boo from inside.

“Boy, you people sure do make a fuss over a serial killer.” Pepper sighed humorously.

“Technically, not a serial killer yet.” Tony folded his arms. “Gotta knock off a couple more to get that title, so he’s just a plain old murderer.”

“For now-“ You snarked, feeling your patience draining away from you.

The bell rang out, ending school for the foreseeable future, proceeded by the stampede of footsteps as students rushed out of the building, celebrating their early release. You and Kate stood up, ready to go when you caught sight of Wanda and Pietro.

Unwilling to leave things as awkwardly as you had, you told Tony to wait for a minute and jogged over to her, with Kate following behind.

“Is this cool or what?” Pietro appeared enthused by the sudden closure of the school, slinging an arm around Kate’s shoulders as he always did.

“For once, Piet, drop it.” She chastised.

“Okay,” he rolled his eyes, “but whatever you did, the entire student body thanks you.” He said, nodding at you with an impish smile.

“What happened?” Wanda questioned, glancing between you and her brother. “Were you attacked again?”

“Yeah, right after you left.”

Her mouth fell agape, then shifted into a harsh line. “And you don’t think I did-“

“No!” You were quick to assure before her concern was fully voiced. “I don’t.”

“Well, to celebrate this impromptu fall break, and Y/N admitting my sister’s innocence, I propose a party tonight.”

“What?” Kate turned to her boyfriend, aghast by the suggestion.

“Tonight, our house.” He confirmed, winking at Wanda.

“Are you serious?” You laughed in disbelief at his uncaring attitude.

“Our parents are out of town. It’ll be like my hurricane bash last year.” He stated, trying his best to convince the two of you that this was a good idea. “Nothing extreme, just a few of us, hangin’.”

“I don’t know Piet.” Even Wanda looked unconvinced, though Kate seemed to be warming to the idea.

“I guess safety in numbers…” Kate turned to you, seeking approval. “What do you think, Y/N?”

In spite of everything happening, you agreed that you would be safer in a larger group of friends. The police had hardly been effective in stopping the attacks so far, and Tony’s presence did little to assuage your constant fear. Not to mention that you rather owed it to the Maximoff twins, having unfairly convicted them before considering all the facts.

With this realisation, you nodded timidly. “Yeah, sure… whatever.”

“Alright.” Pietro rubbed his hands together connivingly. “See you guys at 8 pm sharp. Bring food.”

Wanda smiled at you warmly for the first time since this whole situation had begun. It gave you hope, motivation to go through with this party tonight. You had missed the genuine happiness in her expression and would do anything to earn back her adoration, to make her forget any of your accusations and assumptions.

Still, as Kate linked her arm with yours and spoke continuously about the plans for tonight, you couldn’t help but feel that this was about to be a huge mistake…

...

As predicted, Tony was far from happy about the party organised that night, giving you a lecture on all the possible dangers as he drove you back to Kate’s. But you knew him and knew that he was way too concerned about his reputation to cancel the get-together. He dropped you home with one final warning, asked for the address just in case, and then left you for the evening. To your relief, officers were already stationed outside the Bishop household, though it would make sneaking away for the night a lot harder.

Still, Kate seemed undeterred, already applying makeup and straightening her hair by six.

“Are we seriously doing this?” You muttered, laying on the bed staring impassively up at the monotonous white ceiling.

“Yes, we are.” She affirmed. “Because, trust me, you’ll be safer surrounded by a load of drunk, pubescent boys. Hell, they’ll probably track down and kill Ghostface themselves.”

“And what if Ghostface is already there.” You sat bolt upright, the image of his infamous mask flipping to the forefront of your imagination.

“Well, we’ll see that obnoxious costume from a mile away.”

“Out of disguise, Kate.” You sighed, collapsing inwards on yourself. Anxiety was sweeping across your body, a cold breeze which rendered you paranoid and entirely unwilling to attend the party tonight.

“Then make sure you’re never by yourself.” She answered quickly, eager to soothe your worries. You could tell she was excited for the night, always one to stay at a party even after everyone else left. “I promise I won’t leave your side, even if Pietro wants to make-out or whatever.”

You grimaced at that image.

“And I bet Wanda won’t want to leave your side.” She added. “That girl is crazy about you, and probably willing to throw herself in front of the killer to save you.”

“Not after how I’ve treated her…” You murmured, recalling the hurt she seemed to be holding onto.

“Nobody can blame you for that, Y/N.” Kate abandoned her place in front of the mirror to sit beside you. “I would’ve done the same if it’d been me and Pietro.”

“But it’s not just that. I can’t relax around her.” You threw your hands up exasperatedly and exhaled, debating whether to bring the topic up or not. “Whenever she touches me, I freak out.”

There was a pause of silence, in which your words swallowed you into a pit of embarrassment, one you were about to retract.

“So what? You have a few intimacy issues, and all this murdering probably doesn’t help.” Kate shrugged. “No big deal. You’ll get there eventually. And Wanda will wait.”

“But she’s already been so patient with me, Kate.”

“Yeah, It’s Wanda. Your girlfriend. Probably the most caring, perfect person I can imagine for you to be with. And virginity intact or not, I’m sure she won’t let you get murdered.”

You snorted, submitting to Kate’s humour over your constant doubts. “You’re right.”

Three knocks against the door interrupted your conversation. You held your breath, inexplicably tense despite knowing that murderers were hardly the type to knock before entering a room.

“You guys decent in there?” The muffled yet unmistakable voice of Tony Stark called out.

“Yeah…” Kate answered as the handle twisted open. “Hey…” She greeted confusedly.

You frowned, equally unable to understand why Tony had returned…unless… “Have you guys heard anything from my dad?” You asked desperately.

Tony shook his head. “Afraid not, kid.”

You sunk back into the bed, any hopes of familial safety having been immediately squandered.

“But good news is you’ve got me as your personal bodyguard tonight.” He finished, folding his arms.

“What?” Both you and Kate echoed at the same moment.

“I took the evening shift stationed outside the house, so no need to sneak out, but” he held up a stern finger, “only on the condition that I go with.”

“No.” Kate screwed her face up. “You’ll ruin the whole night.”

“Firstly, offensive.” He pointed at Kate with a sneer. “Secondly, I’ll be staying outside the house unless there’s screams and such.”

“Fine, deal.” You waved off the list, indifferent about his attendance.

“Thirdly…” He continued. “Pepper is coming with.”

“What!”

“She’ll definitely ruin the night,” Kate repeated.

“No Pepper, no deal- and I tell the police about this little rendezvous planned for tonight.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s unfair” But seeing no compromise, glanced at Kate and saw the same muted displeasure. “But fine. Why does she even want to come?”

“Says it’s a journalistic hunch.” He shrugged, nonchalantly leaning against the doorway.

“And why do you want her there, Stark?” Kate sent a look your way, already well aware of why Tony would want the company.

“I thought a stakeout might be a good first date.” He answered in full honesty.

“It’s not.” You shook your head in disbelief at his antics. “Still, as long as you keep your business separate from ours, I see no issues here.”

“Alright.” His lips drew into a taut line. “Pleasure doing business with you both.”

...

The irony of showing up to an illegal, out-of-curfew house party in a cop car didn’t escape you. Nor did it make you feel any less uncomfortable. The Maximoff’s house was right on the edge of town, surrounded by nothing but empty fields as far as the eye could see. It was isolated, perfect for parties but likely terrible for your own safety. There were no streetlights to illuminate potential Ghostface killers, and with the sun setting in the distance, you doubted the orange hue that currently permeated the sky would stay.

The only other source of light came from inside the house itself, accompanied by a general ruckus and music blaring. You were late, and as such, a gathering of cars were already littered across the driveway, though you doubted their owners were intending on staying sober. At that moment, you decided that you would certainly not be getting a lift home with anyone besides Tony tonight. The celebratory atmosphere from school closing early still lingered in the air, meaning that tonight was probably going to get way out of hand. Especially if Pietro had anything to do with it.

Tony dropped you off with a word of warning, then pointed out where he and Pepper would be stationed for the night, further down the driveway and out of sight. You shuddered at the mention of Pepper’s name, or rather, the fact that she was your line of defence for the night.

As you and Kate approached the front door, which was left open for anyone to enter, the house loomed over you menacingly. Its shadow fell across your face, blocking out the last rays of sunset and encompassing you in artificial lighting. You rarely visited Wanda at home, finding her parents were often absent and your dad refusing to drive you over there. As such, your attention was instantly diverted upon stepping foot inside. Your vision traced up the staircase, wondering whether it would lead you to Wanda’s room- a place you had surprisingly never ventured to.

Resolving yourself to finding the room, you turned to inform Kate of your plans, only to see she had disappeared. Most of the activity was coming from the kitchen, where you guessed she was greeting people, entirely unaware that you had already slipped away.

Shrugging off the momentary irritation at her having broken her promise so soon, you went over to the staircase and began to climb upstairs. A couple of people were standing on the landing, engaged in a heated discussion away from the rest of the party. They didn’t even notice you slip past.

All the doors were shut, and all looked identical, though you remembered Wanda having mentioned that her room faced the fields behind the house. So, you went towards the door that matched her description, twisting open the handle slowly as to warn anyone inside of your arrival.

You guessed correctly, and were met by a bedroom littered with posters and pictures- some of you. The overhead light was off, leaving a string of fairy lights scattered across the walls to brighten an otherwise dingy room. The air was still and dusty. Previously undisturbed particles swirled about your like an ocean, parting only for you. A scented candle burned peacefully on the windowsill, the smell reminding you of your girlfriend. A sudden ache arose in your chest, encouraging you to leave the room and find her.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” A stern voice sounded from the doorway.

You jumped, your heart beating an irregular pace as you swivelled round to see Pietro. The light of the corridor filled the space around him, casting an ominous silhouette over the bedroom. His expression was angry- serious, and unmoving, so far from the Pietro that you knew and liked that it made you exceedingly uncomfortable.

“Sorry.” You stuttered out, taken aback by his newfound seriousness. “I was just leaving- looking for Wanda.”

“She’s just gone out to get more drinks.” His rigid features relaxed a modicum. “She’ll be back soon.”

You watched as he held the door open, ushering you out. More than willingly, you headed over, only stopping once the door had shut behind you as a sudden realisation struck. “But she can’t drive?”

Pietro paused for a second. “There’s a bus to town every half hour, the stop is at the end of the road.”

“She’s getting the bus alone at this hour?” Fear began to rise throughout you at the image of your girlfriend trapped with a bunch of strangers, and perhaps a murderer. “Also, there’s a curfew.”

Pietro scoffed, his signature smirk returning as he brushed you off. “You worry too much. She’ll be fine!”

You found yourself quickly irritated by his casual demeanour, and snapped, “You have a car, why didn’t you go?”

“Because I am the life of this party, and I’m still a learner driver.” He shook his head, turning away from you to make his way back downstairs.

“That hasn’t stopped you before.” You yelled after him, though it was too late.

Pietro skipped back downstairs, and you reluctantly followed.

“Hey, Y/N!” Peter squeezed through the doorway, stacks of VHS tapes balanced precariously between his arms. “How are you doing?” He asked eagerly.

You dashed forwards to grab onto some of his video tapes before the stack fell down. “I’m alright, all things considered…”

“Thanks- and yeah, I’m surprised you’re here.” He looked at you, concerned. “But I thought to try and keep things calm, we’d make it a Blockbuster night.” He explained, indicating to the VHS collection he had travelled with.

You glanced down at the top three he had passed to you, recognising all the titles as horror films. “You mean a Jamie Lee Curtis night? How come she’s in all these movies?”

Peter placed the tapes down, gaping at you. “Cause she’s the Scream Queen!”

You scoffed. “With that set of lungs, she should be a-“

“Y/N!” Kate dashed over to you. “Where did you go? One minute I turned around and you were there, the next-“

“Oh, don’t worry, I was just exploring the house.” You interrupted, putting a stop to her panic.

“Ok thank god.” She sighed. “For a second there I was worried you’d been Ghostface’d”

You tried to smile but struggled still to find the humour in all this. “Not yet.”

“Not ever.” She stated, then became distracted by Peter’s VHS collection. You watched Kate enthusiastically flip through the familiar titles and found yourself wondering whether she had ever seen the side of Pietro you had just been exposed to. You couldn’t imagine she would’ve stayed with him if she had…

Despite the unsteady start to the party, you allowed yourself to be enveloped by the mundane sort of satisfaction that came with these kinds of gatherings. You ended up wedged between Peter and Kate on a disturbingly discoloured sofa, with Pietro on the other side of Kate. Several times you noted him glancing towards you, though you chose to ignore it and focus on the movie Peter had selected instead.

More familiar faces started to settle throughout the living room to watch the film, all sharing piles of junk food, beer and a joint occasionally passed around. For the first time since everything had kicked off, you felt normal, safe, and enjoying the company of friends. However, the longing for Wanda’s presence never ceased, and your eyes constantly darted towards the foyer, awaiting her inevitable return.

An hour or so later you began to worry that Wanda had yet to return.

Seeing your discomfort, Pietro tapped Kate’s leg. “There’s a bottle of wine in the basement that my parents were saving for a special occasion, why not grab that so Y/N can finally relax.” He fixed you with a pointed stare. “I can feel her anxiety from here. It’s giving me Ghostface blue balls.”

“Fine.” Kate rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’ll be right back.” She gave you a shyly comforting smile, then disappeared as instructed.

Pietro spread out to fill the gap, letting out a cocky, relaxed sigh as he glanced at you, knowingly mocking your anxious demeanour. On the other side, you felt Peter tense, noticing he was observing with a disapproving frown plastered across his face. Despite his unthreatening, wholly innocent appearance, you trusted Peter more than you did Pietro, and as such, sidled closer towards him. You weren’t sure where this sudden distrust of Wanda’s brother came from, nor were you willing to dwell on it. Instead, you fixed your attention to the TV screen ahead, numbly watching to dull your racing thoughts.

Before you knew it, the credits had started rolling. As Peter stood up to pause the tape, you realised suddenly that the vast majority of those crowding the house had vanished. All general ruckus had ceased, the party having come to an end much quicker than you expected. Usually, Pietro would ensure the party lasted until some ungodly hour, yet to your surprise, he had remained seated next to you the entire time, silent except for his occasional comments on the film. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Wait.” You shot bolt upright abruptly, another concern springing to mind. “Where’s Kate?”

Pietro hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know.” He stood up, looming over you, then clapped his hands together as if something had only just occurred to him. “Sometimes the basement door gets stuck!” He exclaimed, then laughed manically. “She’s probably been stuck down here this whole time! I’ll go get her.” With that, he leapt over the sofa, thudding against the creaky wooden floor and jogging out of view.

With his exit, only you and Peter were left in the living room. He was crouched by the TV, returning the VHS tape to its rightful box, reorganising his collection.

“Peter.” Your voice shook, a reflection of the fear that currently filled your body. “Something’s not right here.”

He turned to you, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean.” You threw your hands up, exasperated at his nonchalance. “Why’s it so quiet? Pietro’s parties usually like this.”

Peter furrowed his face. “Well, I’d guess most people are worried about the curfew.” He turned back to his tapes, selecting another to put on. “Overbearing parents… no buses running… They probably wanted to get going before it got too late.”

“Yeah but…” You exhaled irritably, wrapping your arms around your form for protection. “It just doesn’t feel right here… Like where’s Kate? Where’s Wanda? She left to get drinks before I even got here, and still isn’t back.”

Peter eyed you up. “If you want to go, we can leave now?” He stood up, expression growing grave with concern. In the dim lighting, shadows fell menacingly across his face, his posture tall and stiff, his care morphing into indifference. Don’t trust him, your instincts screamed. Don’t trust anyone.

He must’ve seen your distrust, the hardness in his gaze melting slightly “Y/N…?

“Y/N!” A different voice called.

You swivelled to the left to see Wanda lingering in the doorway, eyes flickering between you and Peter.

“Is everything alright, baby?” She stepped towards you, a softness in her outstretched arms which you craved desperately.

“Yeah.” You took her hand, interlocking your warm palm with hers, cold from the evening chill. You gulped, sensing Peter still watching you closely, creepily. “Can we go up to your room? Please?”

She grinned. “Of course. Seems I’ve missed the party anyway.” She scrunched her nose at you, then tugged you forward and lead you towards the staircase.

You spared one final glance back at Peter, who stood alone and vulnerable in the open space, a mix of jealousy and fear palpable on his face.

...

You lingered awkwardly in the centre of Wanda’s room before deciding to perch on the bed, turning to face her. She leant back against the door, and you heard it click shut, sealing your fate.

“So…” She started, then trailed off. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a selfish shit this whole time and I’m-“

“No.” You waved her off, settling into the comfort of the bed. For the first time that evening, you finally felt at peace, unwilling to be reminded of anything that might stoke your paranoia. “I’m the one that’s been over-dramatic and self-absorbed with all this- just…” You shifted uncomfortably. “I just feel like we haven’t properly had time to talk since this all began.”

“And that’s totally okay.” She assured quickly, practically leaping across the room to sit down next to you. “I don’t blame you.” She took your hands from where you’d been wringing them in your lap, dragging them to rest on her thighs. “I could never blame you.” She admitted, quietly, green eyes gleaming fondly as she stared up at you through her lashes, the gesture pure despite the layer of smoky eyeshadow that encircled her gaze. “Because… I love you.”

You gasped involuntarily, stunned by the confession. Your lips parted to form the words she desired to hear back, yet never got a chance to speak as her mouth landed upon yours. The kiss was soft and hesitant, her hair brushing softly against your jaw as she shifted closer. To rectify the awkward angle, you parted momentarily, swinging yourself over her body to settle in her lap. Immediately, she resumed kissing you, nipping at your bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth, tongue soothing the pain then slipping further to brush against your own. You couldn’t help but moan.

In response, Wanda allowed herself to fall backwards against the bed as you settled on top, straddling her, feeling hands slip underneath your baggy jumper and towards the clasp of your bra. You pressed yourself against her harder, encouraging her fingers to twist urgently and unclasp the strap. Hurriedly, you backed away to shove it off, tugging your jumper overhead with it. Without warning, she grabbed hold of your waist and flipped you over, reversing your position. She quickly did the same, removing her top to reveal a smooth expanse of pale skin. You longed to kiss every freckle, and appreciate every mark, yet found yourself paralysed in admiration.

Wanda smirked, then lowered herself back down to continue kissing you. This time, she moved slower, sensually, flicking her tongue against your lower lip teasingly. Her hand resumed its path up your side, eventually reaching your breast. She palmed at your chest, and you arched into the touch, giving her the chance for her lips to reattach at your neck. Her lips wrapped around your pulse point and sucked, hard enough to leave a bruise, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Her other hand slid down your stomach, your muscles involuntarily flexing at the feeling of her nail tickling against your skin. Her hand wormed its way underneath your jeans, not bothering to unbutton them, and towards your pants, pushing them aside. You moaned; eyes fluttering shut as her finger dragged its way…

A crash sounded downstairs, followed by a scream of pain. Your eyes shot open, yet Wanda didn’t halt at the distraction.

“Wanda.” You murmured, catching her attention.

Her lips had moved to your chest, which you felt her hum against in response.

“Did you hear that?” You asked.

 Another scream sounded from downstairs, this time a muffled cry for help.

“Wanda. Stop! Can’t you hear that?” You exclaimed, panic suffusing throughout you. There was no way she didn’t hear either call.

“Hear what?” She said, faux innocently without meeting your gaze, then continued to lather attention along your collarbone.

“You need to stop.” You repeated, firmer this time. “Something’s happening downstairs. Someone needs help.” You shoved flutily against her shoulders, quickly becoming irritated by her carelessness.

“I’m sure it’s Pietro pulling some stupid prank. Just relax.”

“No.” Irritation turned to anger which turned to bravery. “I want to check.”

Her fingers curled suddenly, a wave of pleasure shooting through your core. “But you’re so wet, baby. Let me take care of you first.” Her voice was lost in lust, which had all but drained from you.

“Not now.” You gritted your teeth, pushing her harshly to the side.

Wanda finally broke away to stare at you impassively. “Fine.” She snapped, reaching out for her top. “Go on then.” Coldly, she turned her back to you, leaving you to gather your clothes.

The abrupt change in atmosphere left you stunned. You knew Wanda would be disappointed, but this newfound coldness was extreme- like you were seeing a whole new side to your girlfriend. You stared silently at her back, taking in the tenseness to her shoulders, the upright, frigid posture. Part of you longed to reach out, to melt the frigidity with your own body heat, yet you felt as though you couldn’t. As though a physical barrier had formed between you.

Instead, you sighed and began to dress, eyes darting around the room, anywhere except at her.

Standing up and brushing the hair out of your face, your eyes came to rest on the telephone sitting on the nightstand. As mundane as the object was, it brought a stark revelation to your doubtful mind.

“Who did you call?” You murmured.

“What?” Wanda twitched slightly, still refusing to fully acknowledge you.

“When you were arrested- you’re allowed one phone call…” You elaborated. “Who did you call?”

Wanda paused, answering as she reached back to grab her top. “I called my dad.”

Your mind and pulse were racing, worsening the swirling mix of emotions inside of you. “But your parents are out of town?” You stepped forward, hand resting on the doorknob.

“Yeah… and when I called no one answered.” She explained briefly, finally turning to stare at you, something dark twisting her expression. “You don’t still think it was me, do you?”

“No.” You corrected quickly, beginning to turn the door open. “But if it was you, that would’ve been a pretty clever way to throw me off the track.” The door creaked open, light from the hallway flooding into the dingy room. “Using your one phone call to call me so I wouldn’t think it was you.”

Wanda exhaled dramatically, then rose to step closer to you. “What do I have to do to prove to you I’m not a killer?” She implored, close enough now that you felt her breath fan across your face. Your gaze darted over her features; the softness to her lips, the smooth red colouring of her cheeks, the way her chin quivered almost imperceptibly, a telltale sign that she was anxious. Yet, the usual warmth that you felt in her presence was lacking, replaced by unequivocal doubt.

Before you could answer her, the door suddenly flung back from your grip.

You fell into the corridor as a figure cloaked in black shot past you, a flash of silver hidden amongst the dark mass. You scrambled to sit up, watched helplessly as Wanda was pushed backwards, watched as a steel blade rose high into the air before striking downwards. Watched red crimson blood splatter across the room.

You took in a shuddering breath, forcing your legs into action. You stood tall, your fear numbed by the sight of Wanda’s lifeless body resting where you had sat but moments ago. A growing pool of red was soaking into the sheets, dripping down the edge and staining the carpet.

Slowly, reluctantly, you turned towards Ghostface. He was still now, proud of his work. And as he looked back to you, masked head twisting curiously, you felt sick with rage.

Without wasting another moment, you were off. A horrific sense of Deja vu clouded your every movement as you tore across the landing and down the stairs, not daring to spare a glance anywhere but onwards. Instinct led you through the house, round the corner and crashing against the front door, frantically trying to twist it open only to find it wouldn’t budge. It was locked. Someone had locked you in.

A beat of silence passed as you realised that Ghostface hadn’t followed you.

For a split second, the house was eerily quiet.

“Y/N!” Peter emerged from one of the doorways, bruised and bloody. One hand clutched at his stomach, the other braced against the wall for support. “Fuck. You’re alive. We’ve gotta’ get out of here.” He winced, edging closer towards you, a trail of blood smearing along the wall.

“Y/N!” Another voice called. Both you and Peter turned towards the source of the noise. “Don’t listen to him.” Pietro appeared, stumbling down the last few stairs, equally bloodied and panting from the exertion of dragging himself along. “He’s lying.” Pietro gulped, shaking his head, tears forming in his eyes. “He attacked me.”

“No!” Peter exclaimed. “It was the other way round. You have to believe me, Y/N. Please!” Peter looked to you desperately, taking a wobbly step forward.

“Stop!” You exclaimed, frightened by your own urgent tone. “Neither of you come any closer.”

Pietro whined, thudding back against the wall. “Where’s Wanda…?” He asked, voice pathetically desperate.

You swallowed, a fresh set of hot tears welling up. “She’s dead.”

“Dead?!” Pietro echoed, marred by a mix of emotions you couldn’t decipher.

“She…” Peter trailed off, eyes wide and innocent.

“It’s Parker.” Pietro spat. “His movie nut mind has snapped. He’s gone psycho.” Pietro launched himself suddenly forward.

“Stay back!” You shouted, no real warning behind the threat.

Though, to your relief, Pietro listened. Both of them stood, barely a metre away and waiting for you to act. You trusted neither. A beat passed as you regained strength, coming to a conclusion about what to do.

“Is there another way out the house?” You asked.

Pietro nodded with barely a second to think. “Peter’s locked the backdoor and taken the keys, I saw-“

“No, I didn’t!” The younger boy interrupted, incredulous and frightened.

“But there’s another way out. A trapdoor in the basement. It leads outside.”

“Alright.” You nodded, gulped. “Lead the way.”

“No…Y/N...” Peter whined. “Please, we can’t trust him, it’s a trap!”

“Shut it, Parker,” Pietro growled through gritted teeth, then suddenly appeared to change tactics, snapping his attention to you. “You can’t believe him, Y/N. He’s lost it. Those graphic, violent horror films he loves, they’ve gone to his head. Go on! Ask him what his favourite film is!”

“It’s Aliens… But I hardly see how that’s relevant!” Peter’s eyes were wide and shining, brimming with tears. “Deep down I know you trust me, and you won’t let Pietro win, you won’t follow him into that basement…”

“I…” You began, taking in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know.”

“Come on Y/N….” Pietro dragged out your name, his gaze solely on you. “You can work it out.” He muttered. “Use that smart brain of yours Wanda’s always going on about… Peter’s in love with you, that’s why all his victims are your ex-lovers.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Peter exclaimed.

“But you can’t deny it.” The silver-haired boy continued. “You see the way he looks at you. The way he obsesses over you. He’s lost it. He knows he can’t have you, so no one can- and if that means killing you too then so be it!”

“Y/N I would never!”

“Oh, he would.”

“Shut it, both of you!” You finally chimed in, mind reeling with the information Pietro was pouring into it. You knew you couldn’t follow Pietro into that basement. But you also knew you couldn’t stay here with Peter either. You took a deep, steadier breath. “Ok here’s what we’re going to do. Pietro, you’re going to go down to the basement, wait by this trapdoor, if it’s really there. Meanwhile Peter, can you make it to the phone in the living room?” You asked, nodding towards the end of the corridor.

Peter was in bad shape judging by the pale colour of his skin, and the way he was hunched over in pain, yet he nodded enthusiastically.

“No…” Pietro moaned, bringing his hands up to clutch his face. “No, no, no!” He stood up straight, throwing his arms by his side to reveal an expression of petulant dissatisfaction. “That’s not how this is meant to go!” He yelled, suddenly, taking you by surprise as you stumbled against the wall.

“Pietro… what-“

“Y/N, you’re meant to go down to the basement!” He gestured out at you, movements frantic and irritated. “Where you see Kate- and oof, she’s real messed up.” He pulled a face, and, well, you didn’t have to fill in the blanks there. “While you’re distracted, Wanda comes downstairs and finishes off Peter and that’s where we have the big reveal!” Pietro laughed manically.

Your stomach dropped.

“Then, in an act of self-defence, you stab Wanda as I run upstairs and call the cops and ‘oh yes, officers” Pietro mocked, explaining his sick plans. “We need your help! It was Y/N all along, she faked it all! She has some sick, twisted fetish, murdering the women she can’t have- and Peter and I- we got in the way.”

Bile rose up your throat as you listened in, trying to fight back. “That never would’ve worked!”

“Maybe not by yourself, but here’s where we bring in Kate, who I tragically fought back against and won when I discovered this deranged reality. I’m, of course, devastated by this revelation. That the two of you worked together. The psycho and the pervert.” He said, singsong and mocking.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs, behind your field of view.

“He’s right.” Wanda’s voice was level as she descended, totally unharmed, and eerily calm in spite of everything occurring in her house, serving to confirm your worst fear. She was involved in this masterplan, lacking Pietro’s enthusiasm, but making up for it in the darkness that seemed to shroud her- your girlfriend.

“Anyways,” Wanda continued, “that’s how it should’ve gone if someone hadn’t messed up,” she growled, her frustrations tuned to Pietro. “I played my part perfectly, and you couldn’t hold the fort down for five minutes while I faked my death?” Wanda didn’t spare a glance at you as she walked past you to stand by her brother.

Your heart had plummeted into your stomach, and your body was racked by tremors. Your own girlfriend had been lying to you this whole time. She was a murderer- and Pietro too. He had practically confessed to either killing- or orchestrating the killing, of your best friend. And Yelena, poor Yelena too. She had been wrapped up in their web of psychopathic lies.

Tears burned their way down your cheeks. “But… why?” You tried to put on a brave face, you really did, but your voice shook.

“Why?” Wanda repeated, her face flashing hot with anger. “Why, Y/N?” She took a menacing step towards you, but before she could force her way into your personal space, Peter stumbled in front, placing himself protectively between you.

Wanda chuckled, though there was no humour behind the sound. She swivelled around, pacing over to Pietro as she spoke, “Because I know the truth. I know you never truly wanted to be with me.”

“W-what?” You stuttered out, placing a steadying hand on Peter’s shoulder as his injured body shook with the exertion of standing.

“Pietro never liked you.” She spat, changing the subject. “You know that, right? Nor Kate.”

Pietro grinned, cruel and horrifying.

“He’s a diagnosed psychopath. But neither of you knew that” Wanda continued, “and I bet you also don’t know that psychopathy doesn’t mean no emotions- like those shitty horror films suggest. He does feel things, he just doesn’t know how to react to them.” She shrugged, fixing you with a cold glare. “And so, when I came crying to him that I’d overheard Agatha Harkness talking in the girl’s bathroom about how you and Yelena were in love with each other, well- he just had to do something about that.”

“That’s ridiculous!” You interrupted, desperate to deny the rumours that seemed endlessly to plague you. “Agatha Harkness is the biggest gossip at our school. Just because she says something, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“See, but I didn’t want to believe it, I really didn’t,” she continued, ignoring you. “But then each time, you pushed me away, it made me realise, she was right.” Wanda cocked her head, crying slightly, though you felt no pity for her.

Instead, you were angry: all of this from a rumour. “So that’s why you murdered… You killed people Wanda, because you were insecure?” You were enraged by her justification, the terror flooding your body having morphed into something much more brutal and unforgiving. “Ever heard of just breaking up?”

“Hey,” Pietro pointed an accusatory finger at you, “don’t talk to my sister like that! She deserves respect, which you’ve failed to give her this entire time.”

“And you…Pietro.” You shook your head. “You were just using Kate for some big revenge scheme. And for what? To make your sister feel better, to kill some people?” You mocked, no longer afraid to provoke the murderers. “What are you meant to be, the next Norman Bates? Only your mother’s never here so you had to fixate on your sister-“

The moment you finished speaking, multiple things happened at once.

Pietro, who had been simmering with rage since you turned on him, lunged forward, hands outstretched to enclose around your neck. He was blocked as Peter used the remained of his strength to barrel into him, slamming the two of them into the wall opposite.

“Y/N, run!” Peter yelled while you stayed paralysed by shock.

You flickered to Wanda, who looked a mix of surprised and devastated. A second later, she looked at you, suddenly understanding what Peter had said, and realising she would need to stop you.

Fortunately, you were a beat quicker and took off in the direction of the basement.

“Y/N!” Footsteps thundered down the stairs behind you. Like a landslide, deadly and unstoppable, Wanda wouldn’t give up until she caught up with you.

But you were faster. Adrenaline gave you strength, speed, focus. You spotted a trapdoor in seconds despite the dingy lighting of the basement, flickering and swaying as you rushed past the lightbulb hanging from the centre of the room.

As it swung, it illuminated a sight your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to: Kate, her body bloody, slumped against the wall having been dragged into a seated position. You stuttered to a stop. Her face was peaceful, as though she were simply asleep, but not convincing enough to provide you with any consolation. Blood painted her pale cheeks, and you knew she had died in pain. At either the hand of your girlfriend- or arguably worse, her brother, Kate’s boyfriend.

“Y/N.” Wanda repeated, without the prior urgency.

You realised you had been still for a while now, paralysed by the dawning reality of your situation, or more important, the futility of your escape. You had to crane your neck upwards to see the trapdoor, and beneath it an unfortunate lack of stairs. You were doomed.

Wanda was panting beside you; the brief sprint having taken its toll on her. You now noticed the knife clutched in her left hand, its blade clean and shining- taunting you. It had yet to be used, and you wondered whether perhaps Wanda had saved it just for you, whether she had picked it out, thought yes, this is the one I want to plunge into the heart of my lover.

Your girlfriend was undeniably menacing in this state. Her chest was rising and falling, her whole body seeming to shrink and expand with each breath, blocking out the exit behind her.

And yet, you still weren’t scared.

“Is this the part where I beg for my life?” You scoffed.

In fact, you were angry.

“Only if you want to,” Wanda replied though she made no move towards you. “But Kate didn’t.”

So, that confirmed it: your girlfriend had been the one to end your best friend's life. You knew she had brought it up to get a rise out of you, get you to react in some way other than vengeful indifference, but you wouldn’t justify her with it. You could tell by the twist of her lips that it was driving Wanda crazy.

You swallowed. “What about Yelena?”

“That one was Pietro.” She answered. “God, did it drive me crazy knowing I wouldn’t be the one to end her life, that I wasn’t the last thing she saw in this lifetime. But I needed to be at your house, as an alibi, so you could trust me for a little longer. Girlfriend duties, am I right?” She rolled her eyes humorously.

You weren’t laughing, rather, you frowned. “Then why did you show up at my house and drop your secret mobile phone next time?”

“To confuse you, Y/N… I wanted you to doubt everyone, everything you knew- or thought you knew about people.”

You chuckled in disbelief. “You’re insane, Wanda.”

“I’m not-“

“Like your brother,” you continued, ignoring her protests, “you say he’s the diagnosed psychopath, but maybe you need to get checked out. Actually, while you’re at it, get your parents checked too. I’d love to know why I’ve never met them, let alone seen them.”

There was a pause: silence, and then, “You have.” Wanda gulped, your gaze tracing the movement. “You have seen them. When you arrived at the house and walked to the front door.”

Your furrowed brow was starting to give you a headache, but she was making no sense.

“They’re buried in the garden.” She clarified, gaze drifting around the basement, refusing to settle on anything in particular. She hummed, sad and low. “They died a couple years back, and… me and Pietro… we didn’t want to get put into foster care and separated. We just knew we had to make it work for a while.”

Your lips parted, though you had nothing to say. These had been the most emotionally exhausting days of your life, and you wanted them to end.

“But you were so young….” You said, distracted from the present by the sudden exposition Wanda was providing.

“Close enough to eighteen to improvise.” She shrugged, the movement causing the light to catch the metal of the knife, reflecting round the room in a flash of silver.

“Well, I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been…” You sighed. “But it’s an explanation… not an excuse for what you’ve done, Wanda.”

As Wanda stood there, knife glinting in the faint basement light, something in her expression shifted. Her eyes, previously soft and vulnerable as she poured her heart out to you had become hard, filled with cold resolve. She leapt forward, the blade above you, ready to strike downwards.

In an act of self-defence, you pushed upwards, a hand closing around her forearm and halting the knife’s path.

She pushed down as you pushed up, though the effort was futile as Wanda’s whole body shook, unable to find the strength to plunge the knife into your head, which remained barely an inch away from the sharp tip.

“I can’t do this!” She announced, abruptly stepping backwards and letting you stumble to regain your balance. Wanda’s lip quivered as she looked at you, pain etched into her face. The knife she once held so confidently now seemed like a foreign object. “I can’t hurt you Y/N. I don’t understand! You have this effect on me, I…”

Before she could finish her rambling, you lunged at her, instinct guiding your fist into her enclosed palm, smashing the knife out of her grasp. It clattered to the floor with a metallic clang as you both simultaneously threw yourself towards it, struggling and grappling in a tangle of fear and desperation. You struck your elbow back into her face, hard, and she gasped. In the spare moment, you wrestled the knife from her possession and in one swift motion, plunged it into her side.

Wanda cried out in agony.

You dragged the knife out, ignoring the splatter of blood that followed it, jumping quickly to your feet.

Wanda stayed on the floor, rolling onto her back as her hands grasped at her side, attempting to stop the flow of blood pouring endlessly from the wound.

You choked out a sob, everything around you blurred except for the red soaking into the concrete ground beneath her. And then, you remembered: once this had been Yelena, once it had been Kate, and possibly now Peter. This was the second time this evening that you had seen your girlfriend die, only this time you hoped it stuck.

Wanda’s eyes were frantically searching yours, silently screaming for help as her mouth was agape, drawing in shallow breaths. Hurt and confusion filled her pupils… and something that almost resembled regret… But you didn’t have time to think about it. This was for all her prior victims. For all those that she and Pietro had murdered. You would be the one to escape Wanda’s clutches.

You turned back to the trapdoor, your vision finally adjusted to the dim basement light and spotting a ladder tucked in the corner of the room. You scrambled over to it, heart pounding as you dragged the structure across the room. It scraped against the floor, ear-piercing and loud. You hoped it wouldn’t draw Pietro’s attention, wherever he now lurked in the house.

Shaking hands gripped at the rungs, pulling yourself up with all the power you had left. You had no idea what awaited you above this underground nightmare, but you would never be more ready to face it. Slamming your hand into the trapdoor, moonlight flooded down into the room as you kept climbing up, away from the torment.

As your hand grasped onto the cold, solid ground outside, you could’ve sworn you heard Wanda’s voice echo faintly behind you, a soft plea. You halted, the urge to check on her almost convincing you to look back, but not quite.

Your second hand reached up, and you hauled yourself through the frame of the trapdoor and onto the grass, slightly damp between your fingers. It grounded you. This was real. You took in a breath of fresh air, feeling the cool night air fill your lungs and slow your pounding heart. After a minute, you stood, legs carrying you in the direction of Tony’s parked car further down the driveway, its white reflective paint like a beacon at the end of a long, dark path.

“Hey!” A shrill voice rung out into the night, one you dreaded to recognise instantly as Pietro. You glanced towards the source of the sound to confirm your worst suspicions, and there he was, jumper soaked with dark red blood as he staggered forward.

He was injured, badly, but giving chase as you sprung into action.

“Tony!” You yelled, legs burning as you bolted across the garden. “Tony!” You cried out again, this time catching the attention of two silhouettes sitting in the cop car.

Tony Stark and Pepper Potts frantically stepped out of the car as you drew nearer, their eyes widening at the sight of you sprinting, Pietro following closely on your heels. You could almost feel him reaching out for you, could imagine the cool metal of a knife drawing across your bare skin.

“Get down!” Tony shouted, drawing his gun.

You ducked to the side, and he fired a shot. You scrambled to your knees just in time to see Pietro dodge the bullet, ramming straight into Tony and sending the gun flying across the yard.

Pepper didn’t hesitate. She dived for the gun, rolled to her feet, and fired once, twice, her arm unwavering as she stared Pietro down. Tony jumped to a stand, untangling from the struggle as Pietro staggered, his face contorted in rage and pain, before promptly collapsing to the ground a mere couple of feet away from you.

His eyes never closed, his face never finding peace as more blood spilt out onto his jumper, no longer its original colour, but rather marred by different shades of red. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his body, unable to truly believe he was dead, despite how his chest lacked the monotonous rise and falling movement that signified life.

It was over. And yet, you knew that, just like Pietro, you would never find peace.

...

Sirens blared as a never-ending stream of ambulances arrived, paramedics swarming the scene. Red and blue illuminated the house, arguably more imposing than the first time you had laid eyes on it earlier in the night. You stood frozen, your chest heaving as you watched the world fade into obscurity all around you.

And then, “Bring the stretchers! We’ve got one alive in here!”

You waited with bated breath, refocusing on the front door as the first stretcher carried someone out. Your immediate hope was that Wanda had somehow survived, but as you reluctantly remembered everything you had just gone through, you berated yourself for hoping for such a thing.

You stepped forward, away from the paramedic who had been fussing about you since their arrival, and over to the stretcher.

It was Peter: barely conscious, covered in blood and bruises, and impossibly paler since you had last seen him… Since he had sacrificed himself for the mere possibility of your escape.

“Wait!” You called out to the team lifting him through the threshold of the house, away from the brutality inside. “Let me…” Your voice broke off as you drew nearer, examining the true state of him.

They stopped momentarily, allowing you to reach out as if to brush the hair out of his face, then halting at the last moment. He looked so delicate in this state, so easily breakable.

Instead, you leant over, placing your lips gently against his forehead as you fought against a wave of tears threatening to spill.

Whether it was just imagination reassuring your frantic mind, you weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn you saw the corner of his lips flicker upwards.

And in that moment, you realised something. If Peter was going to be okay, then so would you. Someday.

END :)

[lightlycareless]

The perfect girl by mareux = Naoya and y/n

( if you listen to the lyrics you’ll understand !!🤭)

Hi!!!

First of all, I'm so sorry it took me a while to get back to you! Between answering other asks and writing snippets here and there... well, I got busy. But I will always do my best to respond to all!!!! And now, here I am. Moving on...

Omg this song I heard it everywhere but I never really gave it much attention—AND NOW, IT FITS NAOYA AND Y/N VERY WELL.

Now following the lyrics and song itself, I get a sense of being so irrevocably in love/obsessed with said girl that’s being sung about—just about the words I’d use to describe what Naoya feels for you haha.

warnings: fluff. a bit of highschool au. in my mind, that's how they officially met.

I always believed that the reason why Naoya fell so hard for you is because you were completely different from his world. And somehow the sentence strange girl takes me back to when you and Naoya first met.

Naoya obviously knew that once the year ended, they’d be a bunch of new students gracing the school grounds. Nothing that he would’ve normally cared for outside of observing if there were any girls that might catch his interest, but this time around he was forced to be attentive all thanks to your annoying siblings who had made such a big deal about your enrollment.

“Another idiot to join their shenanigans. Great!” He’d say, just about the usual harsh words he’d use towards them, because he hated them.

Kind of. Mostly. Depending on the context. He did not get along with them, at all; yet again, nobody did.

But then, when the fated day finally comes and he gets a glimpse of you… all preconceived notions were promptly thrown out the window, becoming immediately smitten by you.

He just… couldn’t peel his eyes away from the strange girl that honored the hallways with her hypnotizing presence. There was something so intoxicating about your appearance, a sense of purity that showed you had remained largely ignorant of the cruelties of life. Or at least those that are usually bestowed to members of the jujutsu community.

And that just made you stranger before his eyes; odd that someone like you, part of a somewhat important family, was still capable of being cheerful, with both yourself and others.

But as unusual as it was… Naoya was still enveloped with a grave urge to protect you. Shelter that same innocence he had been unwittingly stripped away from, while hoping he’d keep getting that same gentle demeanor you’ve always bestowed upon him when possible:

The way you were always so eager to tell him about your endeavors, whatever mission or school assignment you were tasked with—either to complain, or seek advice, he didn’t care for what as long as you went to him—always considering him above others it seemed, when the rest wouldn’t even bother to look at his direction if not to seek advantage of his title, or simply avoid him…

The way you’d softly call his name, imprinting the moment it happened the first time in the back of his mind: the tone of your voice, the look in your face… like you were happy to see him! When was the last time he could say that about anyone? Not even his own father…

The way you’d compliment his work; a sincere appreciation that didn’t come from recited words out of fear of reprehension or interest in obtaining favors. You saw what he was capable of and took interest in it with hopes of improving yourself, or to simply encourage him.

And of course, the way you took your time to get to know him. Not the heir, not the talented sorcerer, but the man himself; Naoya. Having little no to interest in his family outside of comparing lifestyles, see if he too grew tired of pestering elders and overbearing parents, or if he even got along with his siblings.

…

Naoya felt human for the first time in his life with you, your words filling a void he could never satisfy with the empty gestures of his surroundings… So how did you not expect him to fall in love?

“You’re a strange girl, Y/N.” He’d disclose to you one day, the moment he finally came to terms with his feelings for you, much to your horror.

“Oh, is that—is that a good thing?” you fret, for such adjective was rarely used in positive prospect.

But to Naoya, that word only meant you were beyond good.

You were perfect.

I'm sure Y/N did most of the approaching and Naoya just stood there like the tsundere I always envisioned him to be; it's not until he grows comfortable that he becomes the suave, teasing guy we all know and love (I mean, in my mind hahahaha) but yeah... it's safe to say that to him you were a strange little thing that he ended up falling in love with 🥺

Hnnnnnggggg this was so sweet to write, though the song kind of went more into a dark aspect ngl, or so that's how I felt it 🤣

Anyways, thank you so much for your patience!!! I really love it when I get sent songs that reminds y'all of Naoya and YN, ajgkhasjkghajksgas it adds depth to their relationship you know?

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!

[sonknuxadow]

collection

[scarletfasinera]

I hate when people are like "I already didn't like xyz so it's not difficult for me to boycott it unlike those loser customers that actually Liked the thing which I could never understand bc I was never a customer uwu" bc like. That literally isn't boycotting lmao. That is just Never Being A Customer In The First Place, which means nothing actually.

Boycotts are primarily about applying pressure (or completely making it impossible to operate) via financial/commercial/economic impact. AKA it's about money and capital.

If you already weren't spending money on a product/franchise/company, then you were already never part of their sales data, and you just doing nothing & making absolutely no change to your daily life and just continuing to not be part of their sales data as normal, has literally no material impact. You were already never a factor. The people who WERE customers & WERE part of the sales data & ARE withdrawing their money from those sales figures actually ARE making a material impact.

"Supporting" something isn't about vibes or thoughts or feelings or you telling your best friend how much you like a thing, "support" in a meaningful sense is specifically material. It is financial. Refusing to continue supporting something means taking the money you were previously spending on it & putting it elsewhere. If you were never spending money, you were never supporting it, and therefore it doesn't make any difference if you continue to not support it. Boycotting is something CUSTOMERS and CONSUMERS do.

SO STOP FUCKING BRAGGING ABOUT IT & STOP MAKING FUN OF PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY ARE BOYCOTTING FOR "EVER LIKING XYZ TO BEGIN WITH" & STOP SPREADING THIS FALSE IDEA OF HOW BOYCOTTING WORKS LMAO sorry for capslocking I remembered I was annoyed

I just hate this low-morale mean-spirited bullshit some people do in the notifs on boycotting info posts where they arbitrarily moralize about something they just don't understand so they can pat themselves on the back for doing literally literally nothing AND inadvertently spreading misinfo in the process. Be quiet. Go do something that matters. There are plenty of posts going around, including from Palestinians themselves, with lists of references for how to help Palestine & other similar causes for people currently in crisis, please please do something For Real instead of boasting online about your fandom superiority complex as if it means anything.

[gods-favorite-autistic]

People who are like “Omg gen z theatre kids only know *proceeds to list every single musical that came out after 1999*” are the most annoying assholes like hey maybe we just don’t like shit from the 1960’s or we have specific tastes have you ever considered that

[hybbat]

I do think a good chunk of the 'cringey atheist' stereotype did come from the fact that, especially americans, regardless of their actual religious status are just casually christian and refer to things through a religious filter and that isn't seen for how overwhelming/obnoxious/frustrating it is. Its absense, such as when writing a story and things like "oh god" or other casual references are remove or replaced, is seen as notable the same way people find the cast being all women or queer being 'abnormal'.

And I think more people, especially here on tumblr, should take a moment from ragging on some kid being "cringey" saying god doesn't exist or making atheist jump around like dancing monkeys to establish they're one of the good respectful ones before they ever even begin to talk about their own thoughts, and examine why so much content just inserts god into a conversation that had nothing to do with religion like it's the expected norm, the same way they examine the invasiveness of casual heteronormativity.

[possessable]

i like minecraft horror arg/webseries analysis videos because i think they're cool but i can't watch them because none of the comments are engaging with the topic they're just people going "ummm....but but these are obviously not real 🙄🙄🙄" and "these are troll videos, you can tell it didn't really happen"

Yes It's Fake It's Called Using A Storytelling Medium To Portray Fictional Events Have You Ever Heard Of It

[alluralater]

i’ve been killing it in the gym + fucking a hot girl + working harder than usual lately but i’m BACK after a hiatus of five days. can’t wait to fill up your dashes with random hot silly things ;)

[zincbotted]

some people be saying the most batshit insane shit abt travis mcelroy

[kr-cube]

read a post that said chappell roan's music was boring as fuck and thought they were just being annoying on purpose. Sad to learn this person was right