#'Did The Other One Disappear Or Did You Always Only Have One'

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST PT2 | FC43

part one

an: not even gonna leave an an, i always had a part two lol

wc: 5.2k

Franco found out she was dating Angelo via an Instagram story. A fucking Instagram story.

But that was almost three years ago now, and Franco tried to let it go, god did he try. He was getting married now, after all. He had to forget about what could have been.

The engagement ring on his finger felt heavier than it should. Not because he hadn’t once thought it was right—he had. Or maybe he just convinced himself it was right. They’d been together for four years, maybe more, he stopped counting. She was beautiful, poised, easy to love, easy to fit into his world. That’s what he’d told himself, anyway.

But now, standing in the grand suite of the London hotel they’d rented for the weekend, Franco stared out the window at the city below, watching the lights flicker in the distance. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something was missing. Not that he had any right to be questioning it. After all, he was about to get married, wasn’t he?

The last three years had been a blur of wins, podiums, and post-race parties. Formula 1 had been a dream realised, his face plastered across billboards in every country, every magazine with his name next to the headlines. He’d travelled the world, earned millions, lived a life many envied. But somewhere along the way, his heart had wandered.

And the truth was, despite the glamour, despite the fame, the money, he couldn’t shake the thought of her. The way she’d looked when she told him she loved him first. The way her eyes had glistened with unshed tears that night in Monza—before she left for good. The way she’d walked away, no longer the girl he took for granted. It was like he could still see her disappearing down the hallway of the hotel, leaving him behind, a shadow in her past.

What if I had chosen her?

He thought about that too often. But it was too late. She was gone. She’d moved on with Angelo, the guy who was everything Franco wasn’t—steady, grounded, someone who could give her a love that wasn’t tied to racing, fame, or endless, mind-numbing travel. And that fucking Instagram story—her laughing, the two of them in a café in Buenos Aires, arms around each other, looking so effortlessly happy—had been the final blow.

That was the last straw.

And now, three years later, here he was—about to get married, with the wrong person. He should have been thrilled, but something about it gnawed at him, like he was suffocating in a life that wasn’t his own. She was everything he thought he wanted. She’d followed him to every race, always the perfect girlfriend, the perfect partner. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure he loved her anymore. He wasn’t sure he ever had.

She had been the easy option. She fit into the world he’d built for himself—the shiny, public life, the world of sponsorships and media appearances. She had the right background, the right education, the right looks. She was what was expected of him. What people saw when they looked at a successful F1 driver: the perfect match, the ideal woman.

But the reality was that whenever he closed his eyes, he saw someone else. He saw her. The girl from that small village in Argentina, the one who’d loved him first and probably would, even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when he hadn’t been able to see it for what it was.

He hadn’t thought about her for a while—not in the sense that would make him ache, not the way he used to. He’d buried that pain under the chaos of the last few years. But it was like a low hum in the back of his mind. Every time he saw Angelo’s name pop up, or when he’d hear a new story about her from people back home, he couldn’t help but wonder how her life had turned out. Was she happy? Was she still with Angelo? Was she finally over him?

He could only imagine the life she’d built without him—the kind of life she deserved.

But now, standing on the edge of a new chapter of his life, Franco wondered if he’d ever be able to move on. Because, no matter how many laps he raced, no matter how many trophies he collected, it always came back to her. And now, with his wedding on the horizon, he couldn’t help but ask himself: What the hell had he been doing this whole time?

His phone buzzed on the table, snapping him back to the moment. His fiancée. A text: “Hey, I made reservations for dinner tonight!”

He sighed and stared at the screen of his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard. 

He knew he shouldn’t, it was ridiculous. It was stupid. He had no right to send her an invitation, not after everything. He hadn’t heard from her in so long, hadn’t even thought about reaching out beyond those painful Instagram stories and the passing updates from mutual friends.

But, for some reason, there he was—typing out an invitation to his wedding.

It’s the right thing to do, he told himself. She was a part of his past. She had been the first person to love him unconditionally. They’d spent too many years growing up together not to extend an olive branch. Besides, she had a life now, a life without him. Maybe it was selfish to think she would even want to come, but maybe, just maybe, she deserved to know. She deserved to hear it from him, the way things had turned out.

He hit “send” before he could overthink it any more. The words felt hollow as they left his phone, but there was no going back now.

It was a quiet afternoon in Buenos Aires. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light through the windows of their apartment. She and Angelo had just finished dinner—nothing fancy, just pasta and wine—and now she was curled up on the couch with a book in her lap, one of the many cosy rituals they had settled into over the past couple of years.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced at it, seeing a notification from her email app. The subject line made her pause.

Wedding Invitation: Franco Colapinto.

She blinked, feeling her chest tighten before she even opened it. It had been so long since she’d thought about him—since Monza, really. It was a chapter of her life that had closed the moment she walked away. But the sight of his name brought it all rushing back. The summers spent racing bikes down dirt roads, his smile so effortless, so wide. The way he’d looked at her before everything changed.

Slowly, she opened the email, feeling a strange mixture of nostalgia and disbelief.

I hope this message finds you well. It’s been a while since we last spoke, but I wanted to reach out and invite you to something important. I’m getting married in three months' time, and I wanted to personally invite you to be a part of the day. It wouldn’t feel right without including you.

I understand if you’re unable to come, but I thought it was important to extend the invitation.

I hope everything is going well in your life.

All the best,

Fran

She stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, the words swimming in her mind. There were so many things she could have said, but the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of her heart, beating a little faster than it should. A soft ache settled in her chest.

Three years had passed. She had moved on, found a life she was proud of—one that was stable and calm, filled with love from Angelo, whose steady hand had never wavered, who had been everything Franco couldn’t be. She had built a future, and it was more than she had ever expected for herself.

And yet, the invitation sat there, a reminder of what had been. Of the boy she had loved, the boy who had never truly seen her. Of the boy who she had walked away from.

She set the phone down for a moment, leaning back against the couch. Angelo’s gentle snoring filled the living room from the slightly ajar door, a quiet reminder of the life they had made together—together, with no ghosts of the past lingering between them. But even as she sat there, she could feel the sting of Franco’s message, the painful reminder of how much had been left unsaid.

She thought about the wedding. How strange it felt to be invited to something so intimate, something so final. It was a life she would never be a part of. A life that wasn’t hers to claim, never was. But part of her, deep down, still wondered what had happened. Was he happy? Was this really the life he wanted? Or was this just another easy option for him? Another decision made out of convenience?

Why am I even asking myself this?

She shook her head, her lips curling into a rueful smile. She knew she didn’t want to go. There was no reason to go back to that part of her life, not now. Not when everything she had built with Angelo was exactly where it needed to be.

The following morning, the soft clink of Angelo’s keys echoed through their small kitchen as he got his things ready for work. He was already dressed in his crisp suit, his tie neatly adjusted, preparing for another day at the law firm. She, on the other hand, was in her scrubs, packing her bag for her shift at the hospital.

She was tying her trainers when she saw him glance at her, his eyes focused on his phone.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity. “You seem a little quiet this morning.”

She shrugged, setting her bag down on the counter. “I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

It was only a half-lie. She had hardly slept last night after receiving Franco’s invitation. The words had stuck with her, gnawing at her thoughts, replaying in her mind like a loop she couldn’t escape.

“What’s up?” Angelo asked, watching her intently, his brow furrowing slightly.

She hesitated, then sighed and reached for her phone, pulling up the email Franco had sent her. She handed it to him without a word.

Angelo read it in silence, his eyes scanning the screen. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but somehow, she already knew that he would have an opinion on it.

Finally, he set the phone down and looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. “He’s getting married, huh? I didn;’t believe it when I saw it on the news.” he said softly.

“Yeah,” she replied quietly, as if the words themselves felt like an admission. “I guess he thought I should know.”

“You’re not planning on going, are you?” Angelo asked, his voice laced with concern.

She shook her head, biting her lip. “He’s my past now. It doesn’t matter. It’s… it’s not something I need to revisit.”

Angelo nodded, his eyes softening as he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He knew how much Franco had meant to her—how he had once been the centre of her world. But that was years ago. And he had never once doubted that she was now his world.

“I haven’t seen Franco since we were sixteen,” Angelo said, his tone thoughtful. “I know things between you and him ended... well, the way they did. But maybe it might be good to go. For closure. For you, if nothing else.”

She met his eyes, her gaze wavering. “Closure?” she repeated, almost incredulously. “I don’t need closure, Angelo. I moved on a long time ago.”

“I know,” Angelo said, his voice gentle but firm. “But I think sometimes it’s easy to say we’ve moved on, that we’re over things. But there are pieces of our past that stick with us, no matter how much time passes. Maybe seeing him—seeing that life—will help you put the final chapter behind you. Don’t you think?”

She was quiet for a long moment, turning the idea over in her head. It made sense, in a way. The past had never quite been put to rest, even if she had buried it deep. Maybe it wasn’t about Franco anymore. Maybe it was about facing what had happened, about finding peace with it, once and for all.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I don’t want it to mess with what we have, Angelo. I don’t want to go and be reminded of something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

Angelo smiled softly, taking her hand in his. “It won’t. I promise. You’re the one I want, mi amor You’re the one who matters. Whatever happened back then, whatever Franco was, that’s not us. It’s not our life. But if this is something you think you need to do, then I’ll be there with you. I want you to have the closure you need.”

She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. Angelo had always been like that—steady, understanding, and so patient with her. He never pushed her to forget, but he also didn’t hold her to the past. He was the one who made her feel safe, who built her the life she was proud of, and the thought of him beside her through whatever this was made her feel like she could take on anything.

With a slow, hesitant breath, she met his eyes. “You’re right. Maybe it would be good to go. I don’t know what I’ll feel when I see him, but I think... I think I can handle it now.”

Angelo smiled, squeezing her hand. “Then we’ll go. Together.”

She nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. The decision was made, and it was time to let go of the last remnants of the past. Franco and his life—whatever that was now—could stay in the past, but she wouldn’t be running from it anymore.

“Thanks,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “For always being here.”

“Always,” Angelo replied, his voice warm. “Now go. You don’t want to be late for your shift.”

She smiled at him one last time before grabbing her bag and heading for the door. The wedding was still months away, but somehow, her world felt just a little bit more at peace now.

Three months later

The morning of the wedding, the soft rays of the sun filtered through the curtains of their hotel suite, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.

She stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her dress as Angelo adjusted his cufflinks in the reflection behind her. The air was filled with a quiet sense of anticipation. It had been a few months since she agreed to come to the wedding, and now, standing in this luxurious hotel in the heart of the Mediterranean, she could feel the surrealness of it all.

She was here. With him. With Angelo.

He caught her gaze in the mirror, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice tender.

She smiled back, her heart swelling with a quiet joy. Angelo was always so calm, so steady, and he knew exactly how to make her feel loved without needing to say much. The simple moments like this were the ones that made her certain that their life together, their future, was the right one.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. He was perfect in every way. “You look handsome, as usual,” she added with a smile.

He chuckled softly. “I try,” he teased, adjusting the hem of his suit jacket before stepping forward to take her hand. “Are you ready for this? I know it’s been a long time coming.”

She nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. I’m ready. It’s just… it’s strange. You know? We’re not the same people we were three years ago. And I feel like I’m finally letting go of that past. I just need to do it, for me. And for us.”

“Whatever you need, you have it,” Angelo said, his voice unwavering, filled with a quiet strength.

She smiled at him, grateful for his support. They had come so far, and no matter what happened today, she knew she was in the right place.

“I’m going to step outside for a second,” she said, pulling away from him gently. “I’m going to grab a photo of the schedule. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” Angelo replied, watching her with those warm, reassuring eyes.

She stepped into the corridor of the hotel, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She pulled out her phone, navigating to the event details to snap a photo of the ceremony’s schedule. The hallway was quiet, save for the distant chatter of guests below and the hum of preparations for the wedding in the distance. The excitement was palpable in the air, but in this moment, everything felt calm.

That was until she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

She turned around, feeling her heart give a small, unexpected jolt when she saw him.

Franco.

He was standing there, half-dressed in a black tuxedo with his shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up, his tie still loose around his neck. He looked just like he did three years ago—handsome, dishevelled in the way that made him seem effortlessly charming.

Her stomach tightened.

“You came,” he said, his voice soft with surprise. 

She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before forcing a calm smile. “I said I would,” she replied evenly. Her heart beat just a little faster, but she kept her expression neutral.

He looked at her, his gaze a little more intense than she remembered, and she couldn’t quite place the mix of emotions flickering in his eyes. There was something unspoken there, something she hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t think you’d follow through,” he added, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

She didn’t know what to make of that. She shrugged. “I thought I’d at least be polite.”

A silence stretched between them, uncomfortable and thick with everything that had been left unsaid over the years. Franco’s gaze drifted toward the floor for a moment before he looked back up at her, his jaw tense, and his voice was almost pleading when he spoke.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his words hesitant.

She hesitated, feeling her pulse quicken. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to go back to the past—didn’t want to open that door again.

“I’d rather not,” she said, her tone firm, though her heart was beating harder than she cared to admit.

Franco’s expression softened. “It’s been three years. Three years overdue, don’t you think?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply, the weight of everything hanging between them. She didn’t owe him anything, and yet, a part of her—perhaps the part that had loved him—knew there was still something lingering. Something that she hadn’t been able to shake off.

She finally gave a soft sigh, one that carried all the weariness of the years that had passed. “Fine,” she said quietly, her shoulders sagging slightly in resignation. “But just for a minute. I don’t have time to rehash everything.”

“Thank you,” Franco murmured, stepping forward as he gestured down the hallway. “My room’s just down here. I won’t keep you long.”

They walked down the corridor in silence, the weight of the moment sinking in. She wasn’t sure what she expected from this conversation, but she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Not for either of them. When they reached his room, Franco opened the door and stepped aside to let her in.

It was a modest suite, far removed from the lavish ceremony unfolding just downstairs. The quiet of the room seemed to accentuate the tension between them. He closed the door behind them, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, his voice distant as he turned to face her. “Water? A drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

There was a long pause. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly nervous. For the first time in a long while, he seemed uncertain.

“So…” Franco began, taking a breath, “I guess this is awkward, huh?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice steady, but her insides were churning. “A little.”

Before she even had a chance to settle with what she was doing, he shot her straight to the heart with the words that came out of his mouth.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know I did, but that wasn’t ever my intention. You were always there for me, and I should’ve done better. I should’ve realised…”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that was all too familiar. He seemed to be gathering the courage to say something, but when he spoke, his words were not what she expected.

“I should’ve told you,” he started, voice low, almost regretful. “I should have told you that I loved you.”

She blinked, her chest tightening as she took in the weight of his words. “Don’t,” she said quickly, cutting him off. Her voice was sharp, a defence mechanism against the rawness he was trying to expose. “You can’t do that. You can’t come here and say things like that after all this time. It’s... it’s mean.”

Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I should’ve told you,” he repeated, his voice thick with something she couldn’t quite place—guilt, perhaps? Regret?

She shook her head, unable to stop herself from responding. “Why are you still with her, then?” Her voice trembled slightly, the question feeling more like a challenge than a simple inquiry. She thought of how excited she must be right now getting ready, while he was confessing his love to his childhood best friend. She wondered whether she knew.

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his eyes flickered away, as though he was ashamed of the truth he was about to speak. “It’s easier to pretend to love her,” he admitted, his voice flat. “It’s easier than facing the truth.”

“Than what?” she asked, her words cutting through the air, her eyes locking onto his. “Than admitting you love me?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Franco’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, a hesitation lingering between them. He opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he exhaled deeply, as if trying to gather the strength to continue.

“You don’t understand,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. I still don’t.”

She looked at him, biting her lip, trying to keep herself from breaking. “You can’t do this,” she said, her voice cracking with frustration. “You don’t get to walk back into my life now and make me feel like I was some... some second choice. You don’t get to say things that undo everything we went through.”

Franco’s gaze darkened, but his next words were even more dangerous. “Say it, and I’ll leave her,” he said, his voice low and intense, as if he were testing her. “Say you want me the same way you wanted me three summers ago, and I’ll do it. I’ll walk away from her. I’ll choose you.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttering in her chest. The temptation was there—familiar, painful, and so very dangerous. She could feel that old longing tug at her, the part of her that had loved him so fiercely, so deeply. But this wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t the girl who would wait around for him to realise what he’d lost.

“I can’t,” she whispered, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I can’t do that anymore. I’m happy now. I’m happy with Angelo.”

The words felt heavy on her tongue, and for a moment, it felt like she had to convince herself of them. But as she looked into Franco’s eyes—still searching, still wanting—she realised that she meant it. She really did.

Franco’s face fell, his expression a mixture of frustration and defeat. “You don’t understand,” he said again, the words sounding more like a plea. “I never stopped loving you.”

She took a step back, shaking her head, trying to clear the emotions that were spiralling inside of her. “No,” she said firmly, her voice resolute. “You don’t get to say that, Franco. Not now. Not when I’ve spent three years getting over all of this. You don’t get to come here and break my heart all over again.”

For a long moment, they stood there, the space between them filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. But it was over. It had to be.

“I can’t undo what happened,” she added softly, her gaze not leaving his. “But I’m not that girl anymore. And I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

Franco didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. The weight of everything they’d been through hung heavy between them, and it was clear now that nothing could fix it. Not words. Not promises.

She turned to leave, her hand on the doorknob, but before she could step out of the room, she paused, glancing over her shoulder one last time.

“I’m happy now, Fran,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite everything. “And you need to figure out what makes you happy too. But I can’t be part of that anymore.”

She opened the door and stepped out, not looking back, not giving him the chance to say anything more.

The wedding was beautiful.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the guests who had gathered for the wedding. The ceremony was set to take place on the terrace of the luxurious hotel overlooking the sea, the soft sound of waves lapping against the rocks below barely audible amidst the murmur of excited chatter.

She sat there, a few rows back from the front, Angelo by her side. The venue was beautiful—everything that was supposed to be perfect for a wedding. The guests were in their best attire, the flowers were arranged in pristine perfection, and the atmosphere felt like a dream. But something was off. A low hum of anxiety had been building ever since the music started, and she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Franco was supposed to be standing at the altar now. But he wasn’t.

She stole a glance at Angelo, who was sitting quietly beside her, a reassuring hand on her knee. He could sense her unease.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice almost drowned out by the gentle clinking of glasses and conversations around them.

She nodded, but her eyes drifted nervously toward the aisle. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Something feels wrong.”

The minutes dragged on. The officiant glanced at his watch, confusion spreading across his face as he leaned over to whisper something to the bridesmaids. There was no sign of Franco, and the guests were beginning to exchange worried glances. The tension in the air became palpable, the excitement of the ceremony suddenly replaced by a growing sense of discomfort.

After a few more minutes, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She turned to Angelo, her voice barely above a whisper, but her anxiety was thick in her words. “Do you think he’s going to come?”

Angelo squeezed her hand gently, his gaze soft and understanding. “I don’t know, cariño. Maybe something’s happened. He’s probably just... running late.”

But as they exchanged those quiet words, it became clear that it wasn’t just a delay. The guests were shifting in their seats, some starting to murmur under their breath, the ceremony now holding a sense of surreal anticipation.

And then, just as the whispers reached a crescendo, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind. Everyone turned, their heads swivelling as they saw him—Franco. He was walking down the aisle, his face pale, his expression one of guilt and uncertainty. He wasn’t in a rush, though. It was as if he was taking his time, as though he had already made a decision.

The room fell silent as Franco reached the front. He looked out at the gathering of faces—his family, his friends, all of them waiting for the moment when he would say "I do." But he didn’t speak immediately.

He was struggling with the words, and she could feel the weight of the tension from across the room. Her heart raced, confusion and disbelief washing over her as she watched him take a deep breath, his eyes scanning the crowd before finally locking on the bride’s family sitting in the front row.

“Excuse me,” Franco’s voice broke through the silence, shaky but loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m sorry for the disruption,” he continued, his eyes darting nervously between the bride and the guests. “I... I can’t do this. I can’t marry her.”

The air seemed to stop in that moment. His words hung like an echo, the shock rippling through the crowd. She couldn’t look away, her heart pounding in her chest as Freddie stood there, his face flushed with embarrassment, his hands trembling at his sides.

“I’m sorry, I thought I could,” he went on, his voice quiet but steady, “but I can’t marry her when I love someone else.” His gaze shifted to her, and for a split second, their eyes met. The pain, the regret, the history of everything they had been—it was all there in that single glance. But she didn’t feel anything but exhaustion. It was like watching someone else’s dream unravel.

The guests were murmuring, unsure of how to respond. His bride, stood by the doors he’d just walked in from, ready to walk down the aisle frozen and unmoving. Shelooked like she was about to collapse, her face pale as she took in the words that no one had expected.

“I’m sorry, I just—” Franco continued, his voice breaking, “I can’t do it. I can’t go through with it. I’m sorry. I—I just can’t.”

Without another word, he turned and began to walk away, stepping down from the altar, leaving the bride standing alone, abandoned in front of everyone.

The room was filled with stunned silence.

Angelo reached for her hand, squeezing it gently as the reality of what had just unfolded sank in. She didn’t know how to feel—didn’t know what to think. Her chest ached with a strange mixture of relief and guilt, but most of all, there was a numbness that began to set in.

And then, just as quickly as Franco had walked away, he was gone, disappearing behind the closed doors of the venue, leaving a trail of shock in his wake. The ceremony was over before it had even begun.

She couldn’t help herself.

The guilt she felt in her stomach was strong.

It was her fault.

the end.

an: actual an, im sorry guys! i was feeling sad so i wrote this muahhah

tags: @obxstiles @charlosvibesonly @zestytimbit @taygrls

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Wrong Person (College AU!)

Hockey player!Cregan Stark x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond's girlfriend has a group project with the man he hates the most, Cregan Stark.

Warning: abuse, domestic violence, alcohol consumption, implied smut, implied fighting, smoking, angst; characters generations/ages don't quite make sense but basically everyone is 20 in this

Word Count: 4.7k

Masterlist

A/N Hey guys, I know its been a while. Some of you may have figured out I stop posting as much when school picks up but here’s something I’ve been slowly piecing together

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Aemond’s door. Softly, but not so soft he would miss it. Immediately the door swung open and I was met with Aemond’s eternally neutral expression. I felt my own heart sink as he yet again didn’t greet me with a smile. “Hey,” I greeted shyly, feeling my lips quirk up into a smile despite how disappointed I repeatedly found myself.

“Hey,” he greeted in return, stepping aside to let me through. I walked past him, finding his dorm just as I always did. It was surprisingly clean for a guy’s college dorm but Aemond was pretty tidy. Coming up behind me, he gently lifted my bag off my shoulder, placing it on the desk chair before moving me towards his bed.

I suddenly found myself wishing Criston, his roommate, was here. “Oh I actually need my-”

“What?” Aemond snapped, cutting me off.

I stared up at him for a second, trying to register just how angry he was. Finding no real, threatening anger I decided to answer him. “It’s just, I, uh I have to wrap up something quick for that project. Cregan just-”

Aemond scoffed, rolling his eyes. He walked around me, flopping onto his bed with an annoyed expression. “All I fucking hear is about Cregan fucking Stark and your project. You’ve been doing this project for like two months.”

I found my arms wrapping around myself but stopped. Aemond hated when I did that. “Stop acting like I’m gonna hurt you!” he’d say. “I’m sorry but it’s a semester long project,” I explained for the hundredth time.

“I don’t see why you had to partner with him,” Aemond grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

“I know, but there were no other seats.” We repeated the same conversation we’ve had dozens of times throughout this semester.

Walking into Tyrell Hall, I checked my phone. One minute until class started. Cursing, I rushed up to the second floor, quickly locating classroom 221B. Entering the room, I let out a huff seeing that every seat was filled. Scanning the room for a glimpse of an open seat, I observed my classmates. I waved to the few I knew, girls from my freshman year residence hall, some people who ran in Aemond’s circle, a few I didn’t know, and then the hockey team. They all sat in the rear corner of the room, with the only seat left being right next to their captain, Cregan Stark. Glancing at the professor, I found her looking at me expectantly so I reluctantly headed to the back of the room, trying to disappear into my hair as I walked past the hockey team.

“Now that we’re all here,” the professor started, “make sure to get to know your desk partner. You’ll be working with them all semester.” Shit.

I looked to my left, finding Cregan already giving me a shit eating grin. “Oh this is gonna be fun,” he smiled, knowing how much Aemond hated the athletes.

Aemond just got quiet, biting his lip as he looked down at his crossed arms. “C’mon, don’t be mad,” I begged, getting up on the bed. I no longer thought about it. We had been through this routine so many times I just acted. I laid on his bed, practically on top of him as I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. “I hate it too but it’s only for one semester.”

Aemond huffed, uncrossing his arms so he could lay one across my shoulder, nestling me further into his chest. He didn’t say a word, rather he just looked at me. His expression wasn’t expectant but I knew what he wanted. Pushing my body up, I connected my lips to his. He immediately escalated it, turning so he could place one hand on my jaw, the other on my waist as he moved to be on top of me.

Managing to pull away slightly, I looked up at him, his lips still so close I could feel his labored breath. “Aemond, I want to, I really do,” I tried to keep him from getting mad, “but I have-”

“Is this about your project?” he interrupted me, still so close I could feel the sharpness of his breath as he got angrier.

“No,” I assured quickly. “I have a history assignment. Besides, doesn’t Criston get back from class soon?”

“I don’t care,” he said, brushing his nose against mine. “Here,” he said, leaning over me to his bedside table to grab his phone. He typed out a quick message, only briefly showing it to me before tossing it back onto his bedside table. “You can do your work tomorrow morning before class.” His words phrased as a suggestion but holding the weight of a command. He connected his lips to mine again, wasting no time slipping his hand up my shirt.

~

Sitting in class, I tried my best to ignore Cregan. The first half of class was always dedicated to lecture, with the second half going to working on our project. I was keenly aware of Cregan’s eyes flickering toward me every few moments as well as Aemond’s friends a few rows ahead. I just kept my gaze firmly on my notes and the professor’s slides.

Finally, the professor reached the end of her slides. “Okay, that wraps up today’s lecture. Turn to your partner and continue working on your projects. Remember: you should be submitting an outline to me by Monday.”

As I turned towards Cregan, making sure to keep my hair covering my neck, I caught a glimpse of Aegon’s watchful eye. Remembering Aemond, I turned to Cregan’s wolfish grin, refusing to return it. Undeterred, he leaned closer to me. “Hey, I saw you were working on the doc at five a.m. What were you doing up at that hour?” he asked good-naturedly.

“Oh, I couldn’t get to it last night so I woke up early to work on it,” I shrugged. I tried my best not to dwell on the fact that he had noticed that. And judging by his furrowed brows, I tried to ignore the fact that he was concerned about me. “Why were you up at that hour?” I returned, immediately feeling guilty for engaging him.

Cregan’s smile widened. “I was up for hockey practice and got the notifications. Speaking of which, are you coming to the game tonight?”

I sent him a look. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Cregan’s lips fell into a pout. He actually pouted at me like a dog. “C’mon, I want the girl who’s carrying me through this project there.” I just let out a breathy laugh, trying to dismiss his insistence, but thoughtlessly moved my hair, exposing the hickies Aemond had made a point to leave. Beside me, Cregan’s eyes widened. “Woah,” he exclaimed. I felt embarrassment consume me and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole in that moment as I quickly replaced my hair back where it was. “Wow, someone wants everyone to know you have a boyfriend,” Cregan chuckled.

“Cregan,” I began, ready to tell him off. The mortification must have been written all over my face because his expression morphed into silent sympathy as I looked at him.

He cleared his throat, looking down at his notes for a second before turning his attention to my laptop screen. “So where are we on the outline?” he asked. He looked back up, meeting my gaze and I gave him a soft smile of thanks before returning to the project.

~~

Cregan looked up at the stands full of students. Peering in the student section, he was disappointed but unsurprised to find the stands void of his health sciences partner.

“C’mon man, you had to know she wasn’t coming,” Benjicot Blackwood, Cregan’s best friend, interrupted his thoughts. “You know Aemond would never let her come.”

Cregan shrugged. “He’s not in charge of her. She could come.”

“Cregan,” Benji stopped his best friend, becoming very serious for once. “You know he basically controls her every move right? You had to have noticed. She basically hasn’t talked to anyone except Aemond and his friends since like October last year.”

Cregan stopped to think. Now that he thought about it, he realized that she had used to be one of the most well liked people at the university. But now, she really only had a reputation for being Aemond fucking Targaryen's girlfriend. He couldn’t believe that she of all people even looked at that silver haired prick twice.

Seeing his best friend’s dismay, Benji felt bad knowing that Cregan had had a crush on the girl since he first saw her freshman year. “Hey,” he caught his friend’s attention. “Larys told me Aemond and his little cult are going to Phi Gamma Delta tonight. Even if she isn’t there you could ‘accidentally’ spill some beer on Aemond.”

Cregan sent a mischievous look to his friend, a small smile quirking on his lips.

~

“So where are we going?” I asked Alicent as she curls my hair.

“Phi Gamma Delta,” she explained, putting down the hot wand and spraying hair spray all over me.

“Are the guys coming with us?” I asked, turning to her as she took the curling wand to her own hair.

“Yeah, Harwin is going to let the guys in,” Alicent explained, flawlessly curling her brown locks.

I stood up from her bed, going to my bag to grab my outfit. But as soon as I pulled it out, Alicent turned toward me with wide eyes. “Oh no, I already have something for you to wear so we can match,” she came up with on the spot.

“Thanks but I haven’t gotten to wear this since like first semester sophomore year,” I said, holding up the backless top. I didn’t say the quiet part out loud, I hadn’t worn it since Aemond and I got together.

“Yeah but I’m wearing a long sleeve,” Alicent said, standing up from her desk and holding up her sheer top.

“Another time,” I promised her. Grabbing my clothes, I headed for her bathroom, quickly changing into the top and my black jeans that I had cleaned beer off of so many times.

Entering the room again, Alicent had a slightly sour attitude as she finished off her hair. But I just ignored it, determined to have a good night as I got started on my makeup. Once the both of us were ready, we headed to Aemond’s room where all the guys were waiting for us.

I knocked, being louder this time so as to overcome the music that was already blasting. The door swung open, revealing Criston. “Hey!” he greeted the two of us excitedly. “The girls are here,” he announced to the very crowded dorm room.

Aemond pushed his way to the front of the room, a beer fueled smile on his face. But it dropped as soon as he saw me. My heart immediately sunk seeing his expression but he just grabbed my arm, dragging me into the dorm somewhat harshly. Before I could even speak, he was already barking orders at me. “Go grab a drink, I’ll talk to you in a second,” he spat. Disheartened and slightly scared, I went over to Criston’s desk which was lined with booze.

Aemond turned his attention to Alicent, seething. “I thought she was wearing that one long sleeve top,” he growled.

“I’m sorry, I tried to make her take it but she wouldn’t,” she defended. “I could’ve told her it was you insisting she wear it,” she threw back with a quirked brow.

Aemond just sent her a glare before going back to his girlfriend. “Hey,” he greeted, an arm slipping around my waist to bring me to face him. “Look, I’m sorry I got mad earlier its just… this top,” he said, tugging at the fabric, “is… well its basically a rectangle of fabric held together by one string,” he explained. His fingers now finding the back of my top, tugging at the string to where it almost came untied to make his point.

I averted my eyes, gaze flickered down, shame coursing through me. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I loved this top.”

“I know, baby. And I’m not trying to control what you wear just, keep close to me tonight. Not all the guys there will respect you,” he said, giving another tug to the string of my top before stepping away towards his friends.

Feeling slightly disoriented and embarrassed, I headed to the bathroom in order to fix the top before returning to the pregame, trying to forget the earlier conversation with cheap booze.

After a few more moments, Aemond had declared that it was time for us to all go to the frat. As we all headed over, Aemond had his arm slung across my shoulder. By the time we reached the house, I was shivering thanks to all my exposed skin, and slightly wishing I had listened to Alicent.

As soon as we entered, Alicent grabbed my hand, dragging me to the dance floor as the DJ started to play Super Bass. It wasn’t long after we had been jumping around on the dance floor that Aemond found me again, moving to stand behind me with one hand around my waist and the other holding a beer.

After a couple songs, I felt Aemond’s fingers tap on my hip before his lips came up behind my ear. “I’m gonna go out back for a smoke. Be safe,” he advised before taking his leave, a few of the guys following him upstairs out of the basement.

I just turned back to Alicent who seemed to relieved to not have anyone hovering around her so she could let loose. I laughed as her dancing became more wild and sloppy. That was until her eyes went wide and she was looking at the staircase leading out of the basement. Confused, I turned to find the entire hockey team filling the stairway, with Cregan Stark standing at the top of the staircase.

He looked around for a moment as he descended the stairs, before his eyes settled on me and a smile broke across his face. It was as if Aemond’s training kicked in or something because I had the sudden urge to go find him but something in me kept me firmly rooted to the ground. Maybe it was the beer and god knows what other sticky substances keeping my shoes on the floor of this frat basement.

Either way, it was too late to leave because Cregan was pushing his way through the crowd towards me until he towered over me. The dancing bodies of other students being no match for his hulking frame. He stooped down, bringing his lips closer to my ear. “Hi,” he greeted, pulling away with a bright smile.

“Hi,” I returned, not even bothering to try to reach up to reach his ear.

“Where’s your owner?” he asked sarcastically.

I sent him a look when he pulled away. He just laughed, bringing his lips to my ear again. “I kid. But seriously, I’m surprised he’s not attached to your hip making sure someone like me isn’t talking to you,” he teased.

This time he didn’t immediately stand up, allowing me to talk in his ear to answer. “He’s in the backyard. He’ll be out soon,” I answered.

“Well then I guess I have to make due with the time I have,” Cregan smiled. Before I could protest, his hand found mine, tugging me towards him. His grip was tight enough to move me, but not so tight that I couldn’t slip out if I wanted to.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help but move with Cregan, finding laughs building in my chest as I watched him dance. We were having a good time until all of a sudden Cregan got a serious expression on his face, standing straight up and looking toward the staircase. I didn’t even have time to follow his gaze before he grabbed my arm tugging me behind him.

“Hey! Wha-” I began to protest as I was whirled around but the words died in my throat as I realized why Cregan had gotten serious.

Currently pushing through the crowd was a murderous looking Aemond. Rather than rush to calm him like I probably should, I found myself cowering behind the hockey captain, clinging to his arm. “Stark!” Aemond barked across the crowded room, so loud everyone managed to hear it. “What the hell are you doing with my girlfriend?” he spat, getting in Cregan’s face.

“Nothing, we were just dancing,” he answered coolly. “Then you came down here looking like you wanted to murder someone.”

Aemond rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe don’t dance with another guy’s girlfriend next time.” He turned his gaze to me, holding out his hand expectantly. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

The fear coursing through me was screaming at me to take his hand but something wouldn’t let my body move. Cregan sent a glance back towards me before turning to Aemond. “She doesn’t wanna go with you.”

“Stay out of this,” Aemond seethed. “This is none of your business.” He then looked at me expectantly again. “We’re going,” he spat.

By now the music had died down and everyone was looking at us. Glancing around, I saw both the hockey team and Aemond’s friends coming towards us, prepared to back up their guys. “Nah, I’m not letting her go with you,” Cregan declared. “Not until you calm down.”

That just seemed to ignite a fury in Aemond. “She’s my girlfriend, Stark,” he spat through gritted teeth. “She’s perfectly fine with me and I sure as hell am not leaving my girlfriend with any of you,” he nodded to the hockey team.

“Then why does she look terrified of you right now?” Benji interjected.

“Shut up, Blackwood,” Criston spat.

All of the guys started arguing, yelling at the others to shut up. Still behind Cregan, I snapped my head behind me as I felt a gentle hand brush against mine. Turning, I found Rhaenyra looking at me with a concerned, gentle look. I just stared at her for a moment before Alicent’s voice brought me back to the conflict.

“Enough!” she got in between Cregan and Aemond. “I’m taking her back to her dorm unless all of you,” she pointed at the guys on both sides, “want to leave.”

There were some grumbles but no one protested. “I’ll go with her too,” Rhaenyra offered.

Not letting the boys fight it out even more, I spoke up. “Yeah, we’re going home,” I agreed. Stepping away from Cregan, I shakily approached Aemond. He was looking at me like I had committed some serious sin against him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. I tried to move past him but he grabbed my waist, pulling me into an aggressive kiss. I could taste the beer and smoke on his lips as he forced his lips into mine. And I had a sneaking suspicion his eyes were locked onto Cregan’s.

When he released me, I let out a shuddered breath as his hand rested on my hip. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” his voice was grave. But his hand came off my waist, as if giving me permission to walk away.

Nothing was really said as I left the frat with Alicent and Rhaenyra on my heels. They both tried to ask me multiple times if I was okay, to which I just nodded in agreement. My mind was too consumed playing out what had just happened. But as soon as we were within ten minutes of my dorm, I stopped walking and turned to the two girls behind me. “I’m good here if you guys wanna head home or back to the party. I appreciate you coming with me but I think I just need to be alone right now.”

They both sent each other a glance. “We’re not letting you walk alone at night,” Rhaenyra protested.

“I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

They both looked at each other reluctantly before looking toward me. “Okay but, call someone if you start to feel freaked out,” Alicent said.

“I will,” I agreed, before turning on my heel and walking away.

Immediately, I pulled out my phone, afraid to see what was on there. Opening it, I was first confronted with a text from Cregan.

Hey sorry about tn If he tries anything with you let me know and I’ll handle it

My heart melted reading his messages. I wanted to cry at how sweet he had been lately, mostly because Aemond had been anything but.

Going to our messages, I found nothing. I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. I’m sure my refusal to move would come up some way or another.

I swiped out of my messages with Aemond, going back to Cregan. Reluctantly, I held down on the message until the option to delete it popped up. My finger hesitated over the delete button before I hit it. Just like I had deleted all his flirty texts. Leaving nothing but the texts about our project.

~

The next morning, I was woken up by incessant banging on my door. Glancing quickly at the clock, I saw that it read eight a.m. Rushing to the door, I opened it without checking who it was because deep down, I already knew.

As the door flew open I immediately took a step back, finding Aemond practically glowing with fury. “What the hell was that last night?” he spat, storming into my room.

I backed up as he entered, the door slamming shut behind him. For the first time, I cursed the fact that my roommate went home every weekend. “Aemond, I’m-”

My words were cut off as he lunged forward, his hand coming to close around my throat. “You’re what?” he spat. “Sorry? Sorry for humiliating me? Making me look like an awful person?” But I hardly heard a word, too busy trying to process the fact that he had actually grabbed me by the throat and was choking me. But it seemed my silence angered him more as his fist became tighter and he pressed me up against the wall. My vision was beginning to fade as he crushed my windpipe even tighter. “You cowered away from your boyfriend behind Cregan fucking Stark! Do you know how that makes me look? This,” he said, referring to his hand around my throat, “is because of you. You make me out to be some abuser, fine. It can be that way,” he spat before dragging me to the floor.

I coughed and sputtered as I hit the ground. Hard. “I’m sorry,” I managed to gasp out through tears and desperate gulps of air. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Aemond stood over me, bending down to get in my face. “You’re damn right you weren’t thinking straight. I’ll see you Monday and you better have fixed this attitude by then,” he said before marching out of my room.

~

That entire weekend I just flipped between numbly trying to wrap my head around what happened and sobbing violently. Every time I caught a glimpse of my bruised neck in the mirror—Aemond’s fingers clearly marked in my skin—or thought about the feeling of his hand around my throat.

I stood in the bathroom, my skin blotchy from the tears and black and blue covering my neck. I had only just managed to start being able to look at myself without immediately dissolving into sobs when my phone rang. Hesitantly, I picked it up, finding Cregan’s name scrawled across my screen. After another moment of hesitation, I answered the call. “Hello?” I answered, immediately cringing at the hoarseness of my voice.

“Hey,” Cregan’s voice came over the phone, his concern apparent. “Are you okay?” His heart was racing as he heard the scratchiness in her voice.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to clear my throat but it was no use. Between the choking and nearly two days worth of sobbing, my voice was fried. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not, I’m coming over,” Cregan informed, already getting up from his bed.

“Cregan,” I began to protest.

“You’re still in Benjen Hall 514, right?” Cregan asked.

I opened my mouth to protest but the words wouldn’t fall. So instead, I gave a reluctant confirmation.

“I’ll be over in five.”

I hung up the phone, going over to my bed and slinking onto it. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I should try to clean myself up and hide the hand print on my neck. But if I hod it, what life was I resigning myself to?

I didn’t have much time to act because there was a knock at my door. I found myself rushing to open the door, despite my resistance to being seen by anyone. But either way, I opened the door, quickly ushering Cregan inside before letting it shut again, once again hiding Aemond’s act from the world.

After observing my room for a moment, Cregan turned to me. “So what’s wrong?” he asked.

I realized I was looking at the ground, effectively hiding my face and neck. After a second of hesitation, I looked up, letting him see the bruises and tear stains. His eyes widened, his jaw even dropping as he saw my state. He just stared at me for a moment before he spoke hesitantly. “Did- did Aemond do that?” he asked, horror lacing his voice. I only nodded reluctantly.

I watched the shock turn to sympathy, to hurt, to finally anger. His jaw locked and his fists curled as he took a step away from me. “That little-” he couldn’t even finish his insult he was so angry. “Did you get my text? Why didn’t you call?”

“I-” I began but I was cut off my my cringe at the sound of my own voice. “I don’t know. The past few days have just been a blur.”

Cregan stepped towards me. I flinched as he came towards me to which he immediately stopped. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he swore. He took another hesitant step forward until he was gently grasping my shoulders. “I am however, gonna beat the shit out of that deadbeat boyfriend of yours. Or should I say, ex-boyfriend.”

“Cregan,” I began, my hands finding his chest. “I-” I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. I just broke down into sobs as I fell into his chest. In response, he just hugged me tightly, running his fingers through my hair.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” he hushed me. “I swear I’ll be right back.”

~~

Cregan cringed as he knocked on room 514. His knuckles were bloody but he didn’t care. Immediately the door swung open, revealing his health sciences partner. She immediately threw herself into his arms, much to the hockey player’s joy. He hugged her tighter as her legs came to wrap around his hips. Entering the threshold of the room, he let the door fall shut behind him as her feet fell back down onto the ground. “No one’s ever gonna hurt you again,” Cregan swore, his forehead resting against hers. “I promise you.”

Masterlist

[nubsdolls]

SYPNOSIS ; g/n reader x sparring partner! bakugou, fluff, not proofread .. matching bracelets , enjoy ! xoxo, jord .ᐟ

A/N; this was supposed to be a lil drabble but this came out longer than i intended .. anywaayss. I PROOOMISEEE im gonna start posting more i’ve disappeared for sosososso long.. in the meanwhile take this, luv u guys !!!!!

sparring partner! bakugou that swears he only bugs you 24/7 to “get your ass to training grounds” because you need to improve. no other reason because of course, he cant stand you.. or anything about you, for that matter.

so no, it doesnt “mean” anything when sparring partner! bakugou comes up from behind you to, “fix” your form. adjusting you by signaling you to rotate to the side by giving your hips a little push, nudging your elbows up so your face is protected by your hands.

sparring partner! bakugou who always insists to be near you, discreetly, if he can. because he obviously doesnt want it to seem like he cares, because he doesnt. even during training or maybe even an attack on the school? near you. covering you and making sure warn you of the sneak attacks from behind you.

and even though you practically hate sparring with him, because hes so damn ruthless, ensuring a trip to recovery girl by the end of it, its weirdly the highlight of your days. hearing the ding! of your phone, followed by the usual message from him.

: training grounds. 5 mins

even when its five in the goddamn morning. you never fail to meet him there.

and after a small while of this cycle, you make the (probably) safe assumption you guys are, friends? acquaintances?..hell, maybe you were even on kirishima’s level of ‘friend’. toleratable? at the least.

so while on one of your free days afterschool, youre shopping with the bakusquad. mina, jirou, denki, sero, kirishima, and obviously, bakugou. god knows how they convinced him to tag along.. you get lost in a cute little merch store, spotting matching all might bracelets. ew, corny. who would even get those?

ca—ching! “aaand heres your change, have a nice day!”

you would.

though, you probably shouldve thought this out.. who were you gonna match with? ofcourse, it could always be mina, but she also didnt absolutely fixate on all might. but, there was, one person you had in mind..

and sometime in the week after the hangout, at the end of your—no less than brutal, training session, you tiredly brought it up.

“the other day—while we were at the mall, i saw these matching all might bracelets—“ pant, “i kinda just bought on it on sight, annnd i didnt really think of who to give the other half to before i did.. but i know you like him, so..”

you trail off, simply suggesting it as you move over to sit down on a bench, taking a drink of water, while also, pulling out the bracelets from your pockets and reaching your free hand up to show him.

sparring partner! bakugou scoffs upon seeing the bracelets in your hand. golden age and bronze age all might bracelets.

“thats stupid. im not wearing that shit.” he growls, crossing his arms. his voice a little panted from training. you were getting better. not that he would tell you that directly, of course.

“chill, dynamight.” you roll your eyes playfully, emphasizing his hero name on your tongue. “i was just suggesting it, if you dont want it its fine.” you explain casually. even if, the sentence did hurt your feelings a little.

“ill just give it to izuku.” you shrug, you guys were friends, pretty close if you did say so.

and you almost swear you saw bakugou’s eye twitch. a glint of, jealousy? in his eyes as you bring up the green haired boy’s name.

he lets out an amused huff, rolling his eyes. “tch. whatever, give it to that nerd. not like i care.” before he reaches down next to you for your water bottle, taking a swing, airsip.

setting the bottle back down next to your thigh, he speaks up again. “‘aight, hurry, we arent done. round two.” he adds harshly, motioning with his hand for you to get back up.

“come on. please? one more minute. its so eaarlyyy.” you whine, almost pouty as you throw your head back. still exhausted from the sparring just a few minutes ago. 6am and hes annoyingly productive.

“hurry or i can blast your ass right here.” he glares down at you, grumbling through gritted teeth.

“im getting uupp, geeez.” you groan, lazily getting up from the bench and almost coming up to meet his full height.

later in the day, during class training, you figure you should probably find izuku to give him the other matching half, one already on your wrist.

you couldve sworn you remembered putting it back onto your other wrist so you wouldnt lose it. maybe it was in your dorm instead? whatever, youd just have to give it to him tomorrow.

today, you were working in partners, testing out new possible moves, strengths, weaknesses, and overall just trying to improve on any weak spots.

and like always, sparring partner! bakugou was next to you. basically having claimed you as his designated partner for anything by now, glaring at anyone who even suggested you work with them and not him.

and as your throwing hits at him, trying to catch him off base with your quirk, you notice a glint coming from under his gauntlet, you pause a moment.

its the matching half of your bracelet, all might’s golden age bracelet.

he notices this. feeling his ears dust the slightest pink from, embarrassment? and he uses this moment of weakness to gain the upper hand, pinning you down on the floor.

and youre completely shocked by the sudden move. somehow flipped on your chest to the ground, arms tucked behind your back with his knee holding you down.

“stay focused.” he hisses, reprimanding you for your bad habit.

“thought you said it was stupid?” you mutter. tilting your head to the side ever so slightly to look at him. a sly, cheeky smirk on your face.

“it is.”

maybe it wasnt so stupid after all.

[fairsexynasty]

ˏ🔪ˋ°•*⁀➷･ DEEP BREATH

.｡🗡️*⋆⍋*🃏*｡ spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: the bau has a new foe: mr. scratch. he's been attacking those near and dear to the team, and now? he's in your home. but you have a morbid trick up your sleeve.

warnings: angst, hopeful ending, no fluff, anxiety, portrayal of an overdose and suicide, mentions of spencer's addiction, opioids, holding breath

a/n: yes this is inspired by pll AND doctor who what about it. also this might be part of a series if i don't finish the other one i was planning for october but never finished

word count: 750

She’d perfected this stunt when she was twelve years old.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, cautioning her to always stay a step ahead, to keep her wits sharp. Perhaps it was the universe’s grim way of keeping her alive. But the threat was real: Scratch was in her apartment. Her safe place, the home where her daughter slept, where they all ate, laughed, and breathed. Maybe he’d been looking for Spencer, but if he were thorough—and he always was—he’d find her here. Then, with whatever that gas was, he’d kill her, or worse: he’d twist her mind, make her believe Spencer was hurting her, drive her to the edge of reason, or haunt her with a vision of her late father.

Y/N’s gaze landed on the bathroom vanity, its soft light pooling across the floor. The faint glow leaked under the door, a telltale sign. Think, she urged herself, a silent chant. Think for Clem. Think for Spencer. Think for yourself.

Another look at the vanity showed the medicine cabinet hanging slightly open, left ajar when she’d reached for ibuprofen that morning. Tucked far back in the shadows was an old prescription bottle of hydrocodone, a remnant of a long-past injury she’d meant to discard. If she’d remembered, she would have tossed it long ago, kept it hidden from Spencer’s careful eyes. But there it sat, tucked away, waiting.

Act now.

With trembling fingers, she reached into the cabinet, pulling the bottle out slowly, careful not to make a sound. The cabinet stayed silent, no creaks to betray her. She twisted the cap, dumping the pills into her hand and scattering them out the cracked window above the sink, letting the wind carry them away. Then, without another second to think, she climbed into the bathtub, slumping back against the cold porcelain.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, a calculated, deliberate rhythm as Scratch approached. Her heart pounded against her ribs, but she kept her breaths shallow, her body limp, one hand resting over the edge of the tub, the empty bottle lying loose in her palm.

The bathroom door creaked open.

A low, satisfied chuckle drifted through the room, followed by silence as he took in the scene before him. She stilled, her lungs aching from the strain of barely drawing in air, forcing herself to go completely still, to become the very picture of lifelessness. She focused on the chill of the tub beneath her, on anything that kept her mind from the terror of moving too soon, of him realizing she was faking.

She felt him drawing closer, a menacing shadow towering above her. His breath, sharp and cold, brushed her face as he leaned in. And in that moment, her thoughts raced: grateful for the broken heater that kept the room cold, for every freezing second that helped her mask her pulse. Thoughts of Spencer flashed before her and Clem. Would Spencer be the one to come home and find her here, broken and empty because she’d failed the only thing she’d ever known how to do? Or worse, would he have to tell Clem?

Then, just as suddenly, the air shifted. Scratch’s footsteps receded, and he muttered, almost dismissively, “Lousy way out.”

The front door clicked shut.

Her whole body shuddered as she gasped, air rushing into her burning lungs. She climbed from the tub, her legs shaking as she fumbled to throw the empty bottle out the window, watching it disappear into the alley below. Only then did she reach for her phone, dialing Spencer’s number with hands that wouldn’t quite steady.

“Honey, hi!” he answered on the first ring, cheer in his voice.

“He was here,” she whispered, the words tumbling out. “Scratch. He was in here!”

“What? Where? Are you okay?” Spencer’s tone sharpened, and she could practically see him standing, ready to bolt out the door.

“I’m home. I—I got home early to check if they fixed the heater, and… he came in, maybe ten minutes ago, but he just left.” Her voice trembled, the relief and terror colliding.

“Shit.” He breathed out, voice lowering as he regained control. “We’re coming right now. How did he not find you?”

“I’ll tell you everything when you’re here. Can you—can you send someone to check on Clem?”

“Morgan’s already on his way to pick her up from school. She’ll be safe, I promise.”

The knot in her chest eased a little. “Okay. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too. Just hold on—we’ll be there soon.”

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ LOVE HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT 𖤐. — yang jungwon.

pairing: idol! jungwon x fem! reader. content: idol au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is female, reader is not an idol here, reader got stood up (not by jungwon), confession, fluff. wc: 1.7k

FROM HYE: childhood friends to lovers troupe will always hit idc!!! idk why this became kinda long though, whoops... ALSO NO DOUBT AND DAYDREAM IS SO GOOD IM ASCENDING

This cannot be happening. 

You sighed for the unknown time, leaning back in your seat as you tapped your phone. The screen lit up upon your brief contact but as always, there was no new notification from your boyfriend. Nearly an hour had passed and you were sure your current state was gathering unwanted pitiful glances thrown your way. You knew what they were thinking. In their eyes, they saw a dressed-up young adult, excited for her date with her boyfriend, only to get stood up and had been hopelessly waiting there, like a complete fool. 

You finished the drink and decided to leave, having waited long enough. You stepped out of the cafe, the door gently closing behind you as you pulled out your phone to call the first person you thought of. It only took two rings before the intended receiver picked up. 

“Hello? (Name), aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Sungjin?” Jungwon asked, concern evident in his voice. His questions put a smile on your face, probably at the fact that he knows your schedule for the day, despite how he was in the midst of practice when you heard music coming from his background on the other line.��

Your prolonged silence was starting to scare the idol, who had stepped out of the practice room after signaling to his members that he was on a call. Jungwon frowns when his ears register the poorly stifled sounds of you sobbing. Hearing you breaking down is similar to getting shot in the heart. 

“(Name), what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me,” he continued in a soft and assuring tone. 

“I… I got stood up. I waited there for an hour and Sungjin didn’t turned up, making me look like a fucking idiot,” you replied through your tears, letting out a bitter chuckle. 

Jungwon's grip on his phone tightened as he listened to you, his jaw clenching when he realized the pain in your voice. The news hit him like a blow: once again, you have been left standing alone, waiting for someone who clearly did not deserve you. His eyes darkened, a storm of anger brewing in them.

“Wait,” he interrupted, his voice low but seething. “He… stood you up? Again?”

You let out a sigh on the other end, trying to laugh it off, but Jungwon could hear the hurt behind it. That was all it took. He took the stairs instead of the lift, stepping out of the company. His sudden disappearance will surely cause his manager to be worried and how he had forgotten his mask would make the situation even worse. But none of that matters when it comes to you. 

“Where are you?” he demanded, his tone softening just a bit when he spoke to you. But there was an undeniable edge to his words, a mix of frustration and protectiveness that seeped through.

"Jungwon, you don’t have to—"

“Just tell me,” he insisted, his voice firm but reassuring. “I need to know where you are. I’m coming to you.”

“...I’m at the park we played at when we were kids,” you replied, knowing your childhood friend is very persistent when the times required him to be. 

Somehow, your feet had led you to the place where you had created countless memories with Jungwon. You took a seat on one of the nearest benches, watching as people of all ages minded their business. Some were having fun with their children or partners. There were children running around the playground area, screaming at the top of their lungs as they chased one another. The sight made your heart soften, as you remembered how you and Jungwon were just like them; having the time of your lives before the harsh reality of life combined with responsibilities had taken over you. 

“(Name)!” 

You turned at the shout of your name, eyes widening in pure disbelief at the sight of Jungwon rushing towards you without a care in the world. What rendered you speechless was how he had forgotten to hide his identity, resulting in the public stopping to openly gape at him. Some had even pulled out their phones to record him, ready to post it on the Internet. Flustered, you stood up, grabbed his hand and dragged him to your home. 

When the both of you are in the privacy of your home, you turned and smacked him on his head. 

“Ow! What was that for!?” He yelped, rubbing the spot with his hand. 

“You idiot! Why did you run out in the midst of practice, and without a hat or a mask too!? What’s going to happen if your manager hears you ditch practice!” You scolded him, resembling a mother scolding her child. 

“Alright, I’m sorry! The thought might have slipped my mind when I heard you were crying,” he admits with a sheepish grin on his face, lowering his hand. 

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Look, it’s fine. You didn’t have to come all the way here. I’m sure Sungjin’s probably busy with work and he had forgotten to text me.” 

Jungwon gave you an unreadable look. “You’re always making excuses for him.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he tried to rein in his emotions. 

“Tell me, has he done anything good for you in this relationship? Has he ever gone out of his way to make you feel loved, or even just… appreciated?”

You were silent, and he took this as a chance to continue. 

“But what about you? You deserve someone who’d show up without a second thought, someone who’d want to be with you, not leave you hanging like this,” Jungwon continued. 

You opened and closed your mouth. “I—” 

He exhaled sharply. “You don’t get it, do you?” He said, his voice softer but laced with pure honesty that made your heart race. “I’ve been here, right by your side, through all of it. I’ve watched you get your heart broken over and over… and every time, I keep hoping you’ll see what’s right in front of you.” 

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. 

“I can’t stand seeing you hurt anymore,” he whispered, his eyes glistening as he held your gaze. “Because I love you. And I would never leave you waiting, not even for a second.”

“Jungwon, I…” You struggled to find the words, feeling a mix of shock and confusion. “You’ve… always been there. I just—”

“You didn’t know,” he finished softly, looking down for a moment, a faint sadness in his eyes. “I know. I never wanted to push you or complicate things. I just wanted you to be happy.” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice lowering. 

“But seeing you go through this again, seeing someone else treat you like you’re disposable, when I know you’re anything but… I can’t keep quiet anymore.”

Your chest tightened, a wave of emotions you had not expected crashing over you. All those times he had offered a shoulder to cry on, the countless moments had picked you up when you were at your lowest—had they all been laced with feelings you’d missed? Slowly, you reached out, placing your hand over his. His fingers were tense beneath yours, but at your touch, he glanced up, searching your face with an expression that was both hopeful and terrified.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He looked at you, his eyes raw with vulnerability. “Because I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to risk our friendship over something I could never take back.” His hand turned under yours, holding it gently as he continued. “But now… I can’t pretend anymore. You deserve someone who’s there, through every high and low, someone who sees you for who you are.”

The words touched something deep within you, warming your heart in a way you hadn’t expected. As you looked into his eyes, the realization hit you like a flood—Jungwon had been that someone all along.

With a breath, you leaned closer, feeling a sense of clarity for the first time. “Maybe I’ve been blind,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But now… I see you.”

A spark of hope flickered in his eyes, and without another word, he closed the distance, his forehead resting gently against yours. You saw how his eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment. He was about to lean in when the moment was rudely interrupted by your phone ringing, causing you to pull away. Your face felt when you recognized the number. You were about to reject the call when Jungwon snatched the device out of your hand, accepted the call and put it on speaker mode. 

“What are you doing!?” You hissed, but he merely shushed you. 

“Hello, (Name)? Oh my god, I’m so sorry I missed out on our date. Are you still there? If you want, I’m free now and we can have dinner together if you want,” Sungjin’s frantic voice echoed throughout your apartment. 

“Sungjin, is it? Sorry but your relationship with her is officially over. I’ll greatly appreciate it if you could leave her alone,” Jungwon nonchalantly replied, his thumb drawing circles on your knuckles. 

“...Who is this? And what’s your relationship with my girlfriend?” Sungjin’s voice turned cold but Jungwon was unfazed, turning to face you with a wide grin on his face. 

“Me? I’m her new boyfriend and now if you could excuse us, we have a date to tend to, goodbye and see you never.” 

“Wait—” 

And just like that, Jungwon ended the call. He had even blocked his number, preventing your now ex from calling you anymore. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing. Jungwon puffed his cheeks. 

“What’s so funny?” He pouts. 

“N-Nothing, I didn’t expect the leader of ENHYPEN to be this bold, but since when we’re going on a date and since when you’re my boyfriend? I think you have skipped a few steps,” you teased him once you had calmed down. 

Jungwon’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Then (Name), would you do me the honors of being my girlfriend?” 

Chuckling, you moved closer to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “Of course, Jungwon. I’d be more than happy to do so.” 

He made a noise of happiness before engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug, to which you returned the gesture. “You have no idea how happy I am right now.” 

“And what’s the reason?” You inquired when he pulled away to admire your face. 

Jungwon’s features softened as he cups your cheeks. “It’s because I finally got the prettiest girl and I can finally call her mine.” 

[redrose10]

hii for the prompt game thing: how about 5, 5, and 55 or 60 with Yoongi! I just love how you write Yoongi, but it's up to you if you want to change the member!

I hope this is what you were looking for! I’m so sorry if it isn’t.

< Beauty and the Frog >

CEO Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, very slightly suggestive, Yoongi is pretty mean in this one

CEO, Unrequited love

#55 “That’s not very nice.”

#60 “I fail to see how that is my problem.”

*******************************************************

You had known Yoongi since you were in elementary school. You had seen him around the building but the first time you really interacted with him was when you were partnered up together in your 8th grade biology class. You refused to dissect a frog and even after the teacher threatened you with an F and a trip to the principal’s office you stood your ground. Yoongi admired that and followed suit earning you both after school detentions. It brought you guys together and you were best friends from that moment on.

Freshman year was intense. Lots of changes and new stressful situations but you had Yoongi by your side so it made everything a little easier.

Tenth grade was better. You had gotten the hang of things and were able to navigate life. You and Yoongi were still best friends and stuck mostly to yourselves. Many rumors went around the school about you two but you always ignored them.

You were in the eleventh grade when you realized your crush on Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him for much of the summer because he went to stay with his grandparents in the countryside. When he walked into the school on the first day your mouth dropped open. He had grown a few inches taller. Most of the baby fat in his face had disappeared leaving him with a chiseled jawline. He had let his hair grow out and he seemed to have bought some new clothes with the money he had earned at his part time job. The first thing he did was walk towards you and wrap you in a hug giving you the first feeling of how much more muscular he had become while working on his grandparents farm. When he said your name his voice was considerably deeper than you remembered. You locked away your secret crush for the whole year not wanting to ruin anything between you two. The thought of loosing him forget was too much to handle.

Senior year of high school was flying by. Yoongi was captain of the basketball team. You took a position as the teams water girl after he begged you too just so guys could get to spend a little more time together. You had decided that after the final game of the season you were going to ask him to Prom. Your nerves were out of control as you waited for Yoongi to come out of the locker room but minutes and minutes went by. Every other member of the team had already left leaving you wondering what was going on. As you exited the school there were mumblings and whispers about two people hooking up in the parking lot. You felt a knot in your stomach as you walked outside only to see exactly what you had feared. Yoongi exiting the backseat of his car with his zipper down and his belt still undone and the head cheerleader following behind while still pulling her skirt back down. When Yoongi came walking over to you asking if you were ready to hit up your usual after game pizza place you declined telling him you weren’t feeling well. He offered to take you home and hang out there but you shook your head accepting a ride from Hoseok instead much to Yoongi’s disappointment. Yoongi went to prom with the cheerleader while you skipped it all together deciding to never let him know about your crush.

College was much of the same only you didn’t feel a soul crushing sense of sadness whenever Yoongi would bring a random woman back to your shared apartment. You had learned to accept it for what it was. The ones he actually dated hurt a little more than the one night stands but you got through it, even having a few romantic adventures of your own.

Graduation came and went and Yoongi started his own record label with some money he and received as an inheritance. You were so incredibly proud of him and excited to see him succeed as the CEO and Owner of his own business.

It took a few years but DTown Records slowly became one of the hottest companies in music while producing nearly every hit on the radio.

When things got too crazy Yoongi offered you a job. He wanted you to become be his Chief Operating Officer. At first you declined saying you didn’t know much about the music industry but Yoongi knew you had a degree in business and he trusted you. So eventually you gave in and became his partner.

It was a lot like the old times. The two of you spent countless hours together all the while your old crush was blossoming more and now to the point you started feeling like you loved him.

Then Yoongi introduced you to Mia, an up and coming artist he had met at some big industry event he had gone too. Immediately you didn’t like her. It wasn’t all jealousy. She just gave you bad vibes. She was a little too quick to use Yoongi’s credit card any time she wanted to purchase something. She was constantly flirting with other men when he wasn’t around. And she definitely did not like you. She had one too many glasses of wine or coffee “accidentally” spilled on you by her way more times than could happen accidentally. She was always conveniently having emergencies any time you and Yoongi tried hanging out. You also heard from Jin, Yoongi’s assistant, that one morning she was giving Yoongi reason after reason to fire you.

You tried to talk to Yoongi but he was having no part of it even going as far as you call you jealous and told you to grow up. A little crack formed in your relationship for a while until he announced his engagement to Mia. He looked so happy and so in love that you put on your best act and pretended to be happy for him even though you were devastated.

The night before the wedding you were laying in bed trying to mentally and emotionally prepare yourself to watch the love of your life marry someone else when there was a knock at your door.

Since it was 3am you were nervous to answer it until you heard Yoongi on the other side. He greeted you with red eyes and sniffles before he broke down in your arms and sobbed.

Through his distress you learned that Mia was in her suite at the hotel so that they wouldn’t see each other the night before the wedding. He had snuck over to her with flowers and a song he’d written wanting to be romantic and surprise her. Only he was the one that was surprised when he found her naked riding some wannabe rapper as she moaned his name loudly into the air. The wedding was called off and Yoongi was devastated. You did your best to comfort him while forcing yourself not tell him you told him so.

Yoongi took a few weeks off to recover so you were in charge and things went smoothly. You were excited for his return only to be horrified at what you were met with.

The once happy and full of motivation Yoongi was replaced with the shell of man who was spiteful and outright mean. His heart melting gummy smile was replaced with a nonstop scowl. He fired people left and right and talked down to his employees. He wasn’t the Yoongi you’d known all these years. His broken heart had changed him to an unrecognizable person. But you still knew deep down that the Yoongi you knew was in there so you stuck around.

Bit by bit you snipped away at the barbed wire that surround him. His favorite coffee, lunch from his favorite Thai Restaurant. Tickets to see his favorite basketball team. Your secret fresh baked cookies that he had always loved.

One morning he came into work to find a brown stuffed poodle that looked exactly like the dog he had when he was in middle school. You saw the faintest hint of a smile at that one and you thought maybe you had finally got to him but then he took the toy and stuffed into the bottom drawer of his desk to be forgotten and started barking out orders to people in the office.

Then one morning Yoongi called you into his office, something he didn’t do much of any more.

“Y/N, I’m moving the headquarters for the label to LA.”, he said after you took a seat.

“Wh-What? You can’t do that.”

He scoffed, “It’s my company. I can and I am. I need to get out of this city and start new. I can’t stay here any more.”

“What about the employees here? What about me?”, you questioned.

“We’ll keep a small team here the rest we’ll have to let go and as for you…I want you to move to LA with me.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Yoongi that’s the other side of the world. I have family and friends here. My whole life is here. I can’t just pack up and move.”

“I understand Y/N. I can’t force you to go but I really want you to. I need you to come with me.”, he said barely above a whisper.

So you agreed. And within a couple weeks you were packed up and goodbyes were said and you were moved to Los Angeles. It was a difficult decision but you would do anything that Yoongi needed and/or wanted.

The company was doing incredibly well while making record profits. Things were also going great between you and Yoongi. You were closer than you had been in a while. Your feelings began blossoming fuller and fuller as time went on now that things didn’t seem so tense.

One afternoon you walked into Yoongi’s office. He was on the phone with someone so you took a seat to politely wait.

“Mmhm I’ll be there.

I know I know it’s been a while.

Yeah my flight leaves at noon.

I know babe I’m excited.”

You rolled your eyes hearing him use the pet name. He smiled when he noticed your reaction before quickly hanging up the phone.

“Going on a trip?”, you asked.

He looked nervous as he fidgeted with a pen, “Actually Y/N, that is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You nodded letting him know you were listening.

He took a deep breath, “I’m moving back to Seoul.”

“What?!”, your mouth dropped open.”

He nodded, “I’ve been talking to someone, her name is Mae. We met at the Valentino show a couple months ago. She’s a model based out of Seoul so I’m going to move back there.”

You shook your head, “Yoongi I…you can’t move back. I gave up everything. I moved all the way to the other side of the world to follow you.”

He scoffed, “I didn’t force you to move here. You came here on your own Y/N. Just move back with me.”

“Yoongi I can’t just keep moving around the world whenever you have a new fuck buddy.”

He looked offended, “Mae is not a fuck buddy. I love her.”

You could feel tears begin to form, “You don’t love her Yoongi. You love that she puts out whenever you demand it. If she loved you she would come to you, not the other way around. Like I do. I’m always here for you. I do everything for you. I love you Yoongi.“

He stared at you for what felt like forever. Finally he slammed his laptop down, “I fail to see how that is my problem.“

His coldness shocked you. He had never spoken directly to you in that way. “That’s not very nice.”, you whispered through sniffles.

Yoongi softened at the sight of you realizing just how harsh he had been. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for speaking to you that way. I’m also sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you.”, he packed up his things and headed towards the door, “I’m leaving for Seoul tomorrow. You can stay here and run this sector of the company or come back to Seoul. It’s up to you. I don’t really care.”

He walked through the door letting it close behind him.

He moved back to Seoul as he had said. Him and Mae got engaged three months later. They were married the following year and divorced by the next one.

You remained in your position as the COO through all of it, mostly because of the pay and travel perks, because your relationship with Yoongi had become strictly business after you confessed. You stayed in Seoul to run that location while he moved back to LA. It hurt for a while and it took a lot for you to move on from him.

But eventually you did.

And when Jungkook got down on one knee and proposed the first person you called was Yoongi. He didn’t answer. He never responded to the text either. He didn’t come to your engagement party. He declined the wedding invite. All you got was a generic card in the mail that you could tell had been filled out by Jin. Eventually you gave up and decided to put in your resignation because you and Jungkook were moving to New York. He didn’t contact you even then.

It wasn’t until almost three years later that you heard from him again. There was a package that arrived for you.

A card read, “Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I wish you all nothing but happiness... I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one.- Min Yoongi.”

In the box was a stuffed animal. A wide smile formed on your face as you took the bright green frog with a pink bow on its head and placed it in the crib next to your sleeping daughter before joining Jungkook in the kitchen to finish up dinner.

[professorsnape394]

DAY 12: Loving in Secret

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 😡

Prompt: Victory

Summary: Y/N is determined to get Severus to admit to his feelings for her.

A/N: Obsessed with Jealous Snape!! I think I may have to write more like this, let me know if that's something you might be interested in.

Warnings:  Jealousy. Duels. Injury.

Word Count: 3194

Credits to Gif Creator.

Meeting with the Order of the Phoenix had always a tiresome day for Severus. While he dreaded spending the day in the home of his childhood bully and long-time enemy, Sirius Black, he was grateful for the time he was able to spend with the one woman who brought a smile to his face.

Y/N had been seeing Severus for a few months now, though they had never actually made anything official. They agreed to a casual relationship at first, but they both knew there was more to it than that. Her feelings for the wizard only grew with each passing day, but still Severus refused to admit he felt anything other than lust for the young woman.

Still, she revelled in the nights they spent together, however fleeting they seemed. It was hard for them to gain any alone time together given her less than ideal living situation with his childhood enemy coupled with the fact he refused to invite her into his home. Still, they managed to steal a few moments together here and there.

Today’s meeting was particularly agonising for Severus, nothing of note being said that he didn’t already know. Mad Eye’s voice faded into a singular drone, as Severus leaned back lazily in his chair. His thoughts on nothing but the woman across from him. It had been too long since he had felt her hands on his body; the softness of her skin intertwining with his rough calloused hands, he missed the sweetness of her mouth on his, the sound of her gasps when his hand found its way between her legs, but he especially missed the drooling mess she became when he fucked her hard and rough, his hand covering her mouth to ensure they wouldn’t make a sound.

Y/N tried hard not to look in Severus’ direction to avoid suspicion, regardless she could still feel the way his gaze raked over her body, his mind wandering to places they should not go at a time like this. A red-hot flush crept its way up her neck, the thought of Severus checking her out so publicly sent a rush straight to her core. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter, attempting to dissuade Severus’ glances. He did not take the hint.

Idly pacing around the room like a hyperactive dog, Severus couldn’t help but feel irritated by the mere presence of Sirius Black in his own home, though when the man turned his attention on Y/N his blood began to boil.

Sliding up behind her, Black placed a hot mug of tea in front of Y/N; in innocent gesture from any other, but Snape knew Black always had a motive. The young witch flashed his rival a sweet smile, thanking him for her beverage. Confirming his suspicions, Sirius lingered behind Y/N resting a heavy hand on each of her shoulders, gently massaging. Severus had to hold back his primal instincts, forcing himself not to curse the man for even thinking he can touch what is his. Sirius didn’t move his hands for the remainder of the meeting, neither did Severus’ gaze on them.

The meeting continued for a further forty-five minutes before its members were finally free. However, Molly Weasley had insisted she make everyone a meal before they left, so the house was particularly more crowded than normal.

Y/N shot Severus a look, telling him to meet her upstairs while everyone else seemed preoccupied with chatter. The Potion’s Master wasted no time hesitating, moving the second she gave the order, stealthily disappearing up to her bedroom.

Y/N was not so lucky in her escape. Sirius watched on closely as she swiftly exited the room.

“Oh, thank God.” Y/n gasped at the sight of Snape standing in the middle of her bedroom. Closing the door she hurried towards him, throwing her hands over his head and pulling her body close to his. Instinctively Severus hands fell to her hips, though quickly began to roam when her lips met his.

Balancing on her tiptoes to match his height, she moaned into his mouth.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been too long.” His words were muffled by her neck as he kissed his way down to her collar bone, nipping the skin with his teeth once or twice.

She let out a single sharp gasp; the kind he loved so much and he found himself dreaming of regularly.

“How much time do we have?” Severus rasped, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that had gone awry.

“Not long. Molly said dinner will be out shortly.”

“We’ll have to be quick then.”

Y/N groaned at the prospect. They were forever having to rush their time together, just once she wanted to be able to savour her time with him, maybe then he would actually stick around after sex and she might have the chance to discuss their feelings for each other. As it were, the couple were resigned to hot and heavy meet ups in secret, providing Severus with the perfect excuse to keep her at arm’s length.

“Don’t you think we should just tell people? I’m tired of sneaking around behind everyone’s back.”

Severus nuzzled into the crook of her neck, sucking softly on her skin.

“We’re not telling anyone, because there is nothing to tell. No one needs to know that we’re sleeping together, Y/N.”

She pulled away from him to look him in the eye.

“But what if it becomes more?”

“It won’t.” He stated firmly.

“But –“

“We’ve spoke about this Y/N.”

Her heart dropped despite expecting nothing less; Severus had always made his intentions with her very clear; it was foolish of Y/N to hope otherwise.

Snape made to unbuckle his belt, just as there came a knock at the door.

The pair exchanged a panicked glance.

“Y/N.” Sirius called from the other side of the door. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, thanks. I just came up to look for my wand.” She attempted to dissuade him.

“Do you need any help looking?” The door handle twitched under his grip.

“No, thanks! I’ll be down in a minute.”

The door, thankfully, remained closed. Sirius footsteps faded as he made his way back down the stairs.

Severus was on her in an instant, his hands raking through her tangled mess of hair, capturing her mouth in an aggressive kiss.

Y/N moaned once more, savouring the way his tongue dominated her mouth.

“I have to go.” She sighed, reluctantly. Sirius would be expecting her back down any second, if she didn’t show, he was sure to come up again.

It was Severus’ turn to groan; the tightness of his trousers had become almost too much to bear. It had been so long since their last session, and now who knows when they would next get a moment together.

“I’m sorry. Stay for dinner, I might be able to escape after that.”

Reluctantly, Severus agreed to her offer. Promising to follow shortly behind once she left.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen was swarmed with people. Countless Weasley’s and numerous other Order members took up the majority of seats around the table. Y/N and Sirius opted to stand on the outskirts of the table, knowing there would be plenty of left overs for them to have once everyone left. Which allowed Severus to slip into the remaining seat practically unnoticed.

Severus sat straight in his chair, arms crossed, eyes laser focused on the couple huddled on the other side of the room. Y/N and Sirius leaned against the kitchen cabinets, giggling together like a couple of school children. Snape watched as Sirius leaned into his friend, brushing aside the loose strand of hair, and whispering something in her ear. Y/N threw her head back and cackled to the sky. It occurred to Snape you had never laughed so hard at anything he had said before, sending a burning feeling of jealousy to his gut. He watched on as Y/N placed her had on the centre of Sirius chest, an attempt to steady herself from her bout of hysteria. Severus jaw clenched.

Finally able to calm herself down, Y/N stalked the length of the table, checking out the food on offer. Severus eyes followed the woman intensely until she came to a stop directly behind him.

“Something bothering you?” She whispered in his ear, noticing the tension coursing through his body.

Severus remained silent, already wary that by standing next to each other they were exposing themselves. She could tell her relationship with Sirius pissed Severus off, but he would never admit it. If he did, he would have to tell her why it bothered him so much. And she knew he was not ready to admit to anything yet. Y/N stole a forkful of carrots from his plate and continued her round of the table.

Sirius joined the woman in her hunt for scraps, the two of them lurking around like a couple of vultures. While, Y/N was simply focused on stuffing as much food into her mouth as possible, Sirius’ attention remained solely on her. When she bent to stick her fork into a bowl of roast potatoes, Sirius rested a hand on the small of her back, keeping it there to draw her closer to him. Severus watched on furiously, his nostrils flaring at the sight. Y/N bit into a large roast potato and moaned appreciatively. Severus mind wandered to an inappropriate place and it was clear Sirius’ did the same.

“My God, Molly, those potatoes are amazing. What did you put in them?”

Severus went deaf to the world as Y/N held her forkful of potato out for Sirius to take a bite from. He took hold of her wrist, bringing her hand up to his mouth, and made intense eye contact while he slipped the potato from its tines.

Severus’ hands balled into fists and his teeth ground together. It was everything he could do to stop himself from lashing out at the man he already despised.

 Either this woman was deliberately trying to drive him mad or she truly saw nothing wrong with her actions; either option was maddening to him.

Severus almost hit his breaking point was when Sirius used his thumb to swipe a drop of gravy from the corner of Y/N’s mouth, bringing it back to her lips to lick.

All idle chatter stopped at the sound of Snape’s chair screeching across the hardwood floors. At risk of exposing their casual relationship, Severus stormed out of the kitchen.

Y/N wasn’t shocked by his reaction. In fact, she was so close to breaking him it almost made her giddy. There was no hiding his feelings for her when this was how he reacted.

After dinner, Y/N helped Molly clear up while everyone else retired to the Livingroom. No one dared speak a word to the brooding Potion’s Master who sat stewing in a single armchair by the fire. To be honest everyone was shocked he was still here, but no one was brave enough to question it; Except Sirius.

“Still here, Snivellus? Thought you’d have slithered off back to that hovel of yours.”

“At least I’m able to slither anywhere, Black. You set one foot outside, and it’s straight back to Azkaban. Tell me, who’s a better roommate? Y/N or the dementors.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m that bad, Severus.” Y/N scoffed at his comparison, shooting him a stern glare as she returned from the kitchen.

“I wasn’t meaning like that.” He sighed to himself.

“Don’t worry about it. Sirius and I have a good thing going here, let’s hope he won’t be returning to Azkaban any time soon, shall we?”

Severus said nothing. He hated the fact you lived with his worst enemy, but he what he hated even more was you defending Sirius over him. The sly grin on the other man’s face showed he had won this round.

Y/N perched on the arm of the chair next to Sirius, finding every other chair occupied.

“Here. Take my seat.” Severus jumped up from his spot on the armchair.

“No need, Snivellus.” Sirius stopped Y/N in her tracks. “There’s plenty of room for her right here.” He budged up a few inches, patting the space next to him. His gaze remained fixed on Snapes, a challenge that said whoever’s offer you took would be the victor.  

Eyes flicking between the two men Y/N had a choice to make. While she didn’t like to see Severus defeated by childhood bully, the obvious answer was to sit with Sirius. Not only would everyone get a seat, but doing so would further rile Snape up, maybe then he would be ready to admit to his feelings for her.

“Sit back down, Severus. I’ll be fine here.” She slipped into the edge of the couch; her thighs pushed right up against her friend’s.

Sirius’ grin grew wider at the second small victory. He placed his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

Severus’ jaw clenched once more. The sight of Sirius resting his arm on her so confidently had him seeing red.

“Has it ever occurred to you, Black, that the woman might not want your grubby paws all over her.” He spat.

“That woman has a name, and a voice too come to think of it. I’m sure if Y/N felt in any way uncomfortable around me she would say as much.”

“Perhaps she is just being polite.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Are you jealous, Snape?” Sirius laughed, realisation hitting him. “Are you jealous that a girl like Y/N is not repulsed by the thought of me touching her, as she would you.” Sirius placed an arm on Y/N’s knee to drive home his point.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Snape scoffed.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Severus fought back the urge to lash out at him, standing slowly from his chair once again.

“It seems I have overstayed my welcome.” His tone was eerily calm.  

Sirius smirked, basking in his victory.

“You always have been all bark, Severus. Next time you’re here remember your place in this house; you are not wanted.”

“The next time I’m here, Black.” Severus sneered. “I’ll be laughing at your pathetic attempts to win Y/N over, Then I’ll take her upstairs and fuck her until the only thing she knows how to say is my name. MY name Black, not yours.”

The room fell silent at the Professor’s words, everyone’s attention focusing in on him and Sirius.

Molly threw a hand over her mouth in shock, quickly trying to usher her children from the room.  

Sirius stood from his seat, pointing his wand in the direction of the Potion’s Master.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said; I’m going to fuck her in your house, while she’s screaming my name and begging for more because she loves the feel of my cock so much.”

A .. flash of light shot from the end of Sirius’ wand, an electric pulse buzzing through the air. Snape deflected it with ease.

The room quickly emptied, leaving only Severus, Sirius and Y/N remaining.

Sirius waited for Snape to take it shot, but it never came. This only angered Sirius more, causing him to send another handful of spells flying his way. Severus deflected each one with a simple movement of his hand.

“You think I’m lying?” Severus taunted. “Ask her yourself.”

Sirius gaze flicked over to Y/N for no more than a second before he continued raging spells in Snape’s direction.

Y/N finally shook herself from her frozen state.

“Sirius stop!” She yelled, watching him send endless curses Snape’s way.

Her friend took no notice of her, continuing to his battle with her lover.

Bored of remaining on defence, Severus finally threw a spell at Sirius. The marauder managed to deflect but stumbled back from the sheer force of the curse.

In an instant there were spells flying back and forth between the men while Y/N watched on helplessly from the side lines.

Seeing Sirius weaken against Severus’ power, had Y/N panicking that someone was truly about to be hurt. Knowing the two shared a sordid history, it was unlikely that either wizard would accept defeat before the other was forced to submit.

“Severus, please stop this.” She ran at him, pulling roughly on his robes to get his attention. “Stop!”

Distracted that Y/N might get caught in the crossfires of the duel, Severus attempted to push her behind him and out of the line of fire. But to no avail, the witch fought against his arm, refusing to surrender to his protection.

Y/N rounded on Severus, pushing roughly at his chest in a last-ditch effort to end the fight.

Despite being unable to hold off Snape’s spells for much longer, Sirius refused to give up without a fight; his spells coming in faster with each passing second.

Losing focus on the battle, Severus’ attention was taken over by trying to keep Y/N safe. Abandoning his wand, he gripped the woman by her wrists and dragged her to the side. Foolishly Snape did not consider that Black would not have the same concern for her safety and another spell headed in their direction. Snape pulled Y/N tight to his chest, covering her with as much of his body as he possible.

Severus winced as pain lashed across his arm. His now cut up sleeve becoming wet with blood.

“Severus.” Y/N yelped, grabbing onto his hand. “Are you hurt, let me see it.”

She took Snape’s arm in his examining the severity of his wounds. They were deep and showed no signs of clotting.

Sirius watched on from the other side of the room, panting breathlessly with exertion. Y/N spun on him, furiously.

“What the hell did you do?”

Sirius remained speechless.

“You shouldn’t have gotten in the way.” Snape snapped, regaining her attention.

“I was trying to stop you from hurting each other.”

“That worked out well, didn’t it?” He glared down at her.

“Stop it, Severus.” She warned, knowing he was trying to deflect from the fact he was hurt.

“I’m sorry.” He admitted, stroking her cheek with his good hand.

“He was telling the truth?” Sirius finally huffed, watching the scene unfold between the two.

“Sirius, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you but-“

“Are you together?”

Severus and Y/N exchanged a hesitant glance.

“No.”

“Yes.” Y/N turned to Severus in shock.

“But Severus you said-“

“Forget what I said. I’ve spent all night watching what it looks like to have another man flirting with you because he thinks you’re single. I refuse to spend another moment watching that. You’re mine, Y/N, in every way that counts. And I want everyone to know it.”

“Do you mean it?” She looked up at him hopefully.

Severus nodded firmly, tucking that one rouge piece of hair behind her ear before bringing his mouth to hers.

“Then let’s go tell everyone. And maybe heal your arm while we’re at it?”

“Whatever you want.” He smiled.

Sirius may have gotten the upper hand in the duel, but ultimately it was Severus who was victorious in this battle.

[3vergr3en]

Kissin' and hope they caught us!

part one | spotify playlist

PAIRING (📖) . loser!collegeau!jake x fem!college!reader

ADDITIONAL INFO (💻) . porn with VERY little to no plot, fluff if you squint, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do that pls), soft!dom!jake turns into a slight hard!dom, jake comes inside, they're so in love with each other, it's implied they have another round at the end. (did not proofread this btw 🙊)

Word Count (📃) . 3.2K

Your place was so pretty. Everything about it screams you.

He looks around in awe, admiring the numerous houseplants perched on shelves and your window sill. He remembered you mentioning that you didn't want to spend an extra 10 to 15 grand on a dorm that you would hate. Instead, you saved up years of paychecks to rent an apartment off campus.

It feels so intimate when it's only you two. Alone. What can happen between two people who are alone? Did he mention that you guys were alone? In your apartment. After getting the best head of his life (as if he had others to compare to). Every provocative thought he's ever had about you is prodding at his brain, teasing him and mini him down there.

"You can get yourself situated, I'm gonna go change into something more comfortable." You say shortly before disappearing into your room.

He carefully sits on your couch, hands placed on each knee. He's nervous, okay? He continues to examine your living room, liking the cozy atmosphere the warm string lights bring.

Eyeing the Polaroid pictures hung in a zig-zag pattern on your wall near your TV, he notices a specific picture of you two outside a movie theater. He recalls the fond memory, a small smile appearing on his face. It was a fun night that he needed desperately. Looking back at it now, he realizes that before meeting you— his nights were mainly spent isolated in his dorm or the study room in the library. How sad.

"Okay, let's do this!" You cheer, walking over to where Jake sits, bringing the boy out of his thoughts (which seems to be an occurring habit).

Jake turns his head and takes one look at you to know that he's doomed.

You were in a pink, floral two-piece pajama set. The top barely covered your chest. Fuck. And you were not wearing a bra. He can see your hardened nipples poking through the cotton fabric. And your shorts? God, they did nothing to cover your plump ass. He can see your cheeks peeking out, jiggling with every step.

You knew exactly what he was thinking about. You had him wrapped around your finger the second you got down on your knees (jokes on you though, he was yours the second you laid eyes on him for the first time. He'll never admit that though).

"Alright, where did we leave off?" You hum, plopping down right next to him. You shifted onto your knees, leaning the side of your body against the backrest of your couch.

"I.." He trails off, letting out a shakey breath. He scrunches his nose to lift the frame of his glasses higher. How could he answer this question? Were you talking about the physics you guys went over before you.. y'know? Or were you talking about that?

Cute. You thought.

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. Anatomy." You emphasized with a smile, tilting your head slightly to the left.

His eyebrows perk up, "O-Oh. Yeah.. anatomy." He clears his throat, stealing a quick glance at your exposed cleavage.

You push your breasts together with your arms as you lean forward, "I'm more of a visual learner by the way." You whisper against the shell of his ear. Yeah, he definitely knows by now.

His hands shift off his knees and onto the cushion beside his thighs when you crawl onto his lap.

He whimpers at the feeling of your clothed cunt sitting atop his growing erection. He closed his eyes momentarily, the sensation already overwhelming him. Someone end him now before he cums in his pants.

You rest your hands on his shoulders, "I've always found you cute, Jakey." You mumble, feeling him twitch underneath you. Oh? Guess you found another weak spot of his. "Always wondered what your lips feel like.." You trail off, taking his lips in yours.

His hesitant hands finally find a spot on your waist, his cold hands against your warm skin make you shiver. His lips move with yours in a messy rhythm. It was sloppy but filled with such need and desperation.

He can't wrap his head around the fact that he managed to get his dick sucked before getting a kiss from you. But it's all real when you grind down on his bulge, earning a painful groan from the boy. You make him so unbelievably hard, it's embarrassing.

You break away from the kiss, biting back the smile that threatened to form when you catch the fog forming in his glasses. Oh, how you want to ruin this man. "I've always wanted to do this with you," You start off, lips trailing down his chin, to his neck, then to his collarbone, "Do you want this as much as I—" You bite down on his bare flesh and he whimpers, "Do?" Jake moans when you start grinding down against him at a slow, agonizing pace, "Fuck— Yes." He hisses through gritted teeth. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your sides, forcing your hips to rut against his even faster.

You raise the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle your sounds. The friction of his bulge rubbing against your aching clit through your shorts had you bucking your hips forwards, "A-Ah, Jaeyun!" You squeak out, hands going to wrap around the boy's wrists. "Mm.. so s-sensitive." He grunts, lips finding a place on your neck. He continued to kiss around, sucking multiple marks on your skin until one particular spot had you moaning out his name. Yeah, he may be inexperienced, but there's a thing called porn. He knows it's not the best source to learn from, but hey, it gets the basics down

You can feel one of his hands inching up your sides, almost as if he was hesitant to do something. You did him a favor by pulling his hand farther up your torso till he's practically groping the side of your breast. "I'm not made out of glass, Jake." You reminded him with a breathless giggle. You soon feel a familiar sensation begin to pool in the pit of your stomach. You hadn't realized just how horny you actually were. Like every touch he left on your skin made you burn for more. If you weren't careful, you might last shorter than you expected

"Jake, I-I think you should slow down." You gasp when you feel him bite down on your neck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to know it'd leave a mark for the next few days. You can feel him shaking his head against your neck, almost frantically like he was going to lose something, "Not when I can feel you sh-shaking against me." How does he—?

You arch your chest more into his hands. The same hands you spent hours daydreaming about. The ones that were gently fondling your boob through your shirt, thumb grazing against your perky nipple. "I'm close, Jake."

The times when you curse Jaeyun for being a little too into his studies, especially now when he's taking his time in studying how your body reacts to his touches.

You would make a snarky comment if it weren't for Jake humping against you right now, bringing you extremely close to your high. "Shit. Me too, Y/n." He moans into your neck, hands hooking underneath your arm to grab at your shoulders, bringing your body to be as close to his. The smell of your fruit-scented shampoo floods his senses, spurring him to come undone in his pants with a drawn-out groan.

You were surprised to find yourself liking that more than you thought. It was so hot to see him cum merely by humping you. Some people would find that to be embarrassing, but for you, it only made you yearn for him even more. If it was any other guy— well. Jake wasn't any other guy. With him, he could literally start barking while calling you mommy (projecting yourself much?) and you'd still find him to be the most handsome guy you've ever laid eyes on.

"Fuck! M-My god, yes!" With a few frantic rolls of your hips, you felt the coil within you snapping and a wave of ecstasy washed over you almost immediately, causing you to twitch against the man below you.

You were only given merely a minute to calm down from your high before feeling his hand snake from your chest down your stomach. "Jake?" Your legs clamp around his hand that was currently in your shorts, prying your soaked panties to the side, "Wh.. What are you— oh." He runs his middle finger down between your slicked folds, the tip prodding at your entrance.

Your senses were heightened as your post-orgasm haze still lingered. You didn't know if you should tell him to keep going or not. But in all honesty, why would you want him to stop? If this is the chance to finally have those long, slender fingers you've spent countless hours daydreaming about inside of you, why stop now?

He watches as your face contorts when he slides a finger in. He isn't sure where this new-found confidence came through. Did it come after he had his dick shoved down your throat? Or when he made you cum undone? He's not complaining when he currently has you falling apart on his fingers. "You're so wet.. makes it so easy for me to just slip it in." That must've done something with the way you cried out his name. Or maybe it's when he curled his finger against a certain spot that made you see white.

He easily slips in another, immediately curling it to rip out another cry from you. "Keep moaning like that, baby."

The pet name makes you clench around his fingers, and he couldn't help but grin. "Jake..please."

"Yeah? You want more?" He asks heatedly, curling and uncurling his fingers again, making you shudder against him.

You spread your legs farther apart, nodding as your lip was tugged between your teeth.

Jake slowly pulls his fingers out of you, only to go rub small circles on your puffy clit with his thumb. Having the girl of his dreams turning to putty in his hands? It was an ego boost he thought he'd never needed until now. Plus, it was so fucking hot.

In the meantime, you stripped your top off while Jake tugged down his sweats along with his boxers till his cock sprang free. It stood upright and proud, tip red and leaking. You swallowed hard, worry beginning to poke at you. If it barely could fit in your mouth without forcing it, how was he going to fit in you?

But you have no time to ask questions when you find yourself hovering above his tip, using a free hand to help align it to your entrance.

You both sucked in a sharp breath when you sunk down till only the head was inside. You know it's going to be a really tight fit. His hands curiously cupped both of your breasts, relishing in how soft they were against his hands. "You're sucking me in, holy shit." Jake curses, eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt inch by inch.

By the time you were halfway, you took a deep breath before sinking fully down in one swift motion till he reached the hilt inside of you.

Jake cursed your name out loud while his hands made their way back onto your waist, only this time was his grip harder than before. You let out a mewl that could only be compared to coming straight out of a porno. Tears swelled up in your eyes, which Jaeyun kissed away when it spilled down your cheeks. The stretch was a perfect blend of pain and pleasure. It hurts since he's the biggest you've ever taken. But it feels so good with the way he's prying your walls apart, stuffing you full. Your imagination could never live up to the real feeling.

What caught you by surprise though was Jake suddenly laying you down on the couch, towering over you while his dick still nuzzled deep within.

His glasses threatening to slip off at any given moment. As much as you would love to watch him fuck you with his adorable little specs on, you can't afford to risk it breaking and then never seeing him in those specs you love so much. You reached up and carefully pulled it off, folding it before placing it on the coffee table next to you guys.

He gives you a warm smile, and you feel your chest churn at the sight. God, this boy seriously has such an effect on you.

"Thank you." His accent is evidently thick, making you unintentionally clench down on him, causing him to groan. "Fuck, don't do that, baby." He mumbles weakly before leaning down to kiss you tenderly, running his tongue over your bottom lip.

You slip your hands underneath his shirt, feeling up his body. You can feel how toned he was against your palms. You pull away with a little smile, “Since when did you have abs?” You help slide it over his head, discarding the shirt somewhere in your living room. “Oh. I uhm, I work out in my spare time.” He explains. And only then do you glance over at his arms, soaking in the sight of his arms naturally flexing to show off his muscular biceps.

How much did you have to beg to have him put you in a chokehold?

"I like you, a lot." Jaeyun suddenly confesses, taking you by surprise.

"Jake. You're currently balls deep inside of me. You think I would let you do this if I hadn't liked you?"

You both stared at each other till you both burst out giggling. Seems that you guys were busy basking in your own perverted thoughts to realize how obvious your feelings appeared to be.

"For a nerd, you sure are stupid."

"For..." He starts, "Yeah, I got nothing." He laughs, combing back a strand of hair away from your pretty little face.

Shortly afterward, he goes to plant open-mouthed kisses along your jawline as his hands roam throughout your naked body, making sure to not leave an inch of your skin untouched.

You slightly grew impatient, resulting in you rolling your hips upwards.

His big hands pin your hips down onto the couch, forcing you to stay put, "Y-You need to stop doing that." He whines.

Before you could get something out, he was quick to pull out halfway only to slam back in. His mushroom tip rammed perfectly into your cervix, ripping out a choked-out sob from you.

His hands grab the back of your knees before pinning them up against your chest. He positions himself up on his knees, allowing himself to set a slow rhythm.

In between each thrust, he'd purposely thrust his pelvis flush against your ass then roll his hips, making you feel exactly how big he is. "Like how I feel buried inside this tight pussy?"

"God, yes." You purred, nails digging into his biceps.

Jake's head hung low, unable to pry his eyes away from seeing your pussy lips wrapped around his dick, your cunt swallowing his entire length with ease. He huffs, beginning to snap his hips back and forth at a fast pace.

Your body jolts with every harsh thrust. And all you could do at that moment was to take everything he gave you with a mantra of his name spilling out from your swollen, reddened lips. "o-oh my god! J-Jaeyun, shit!"

Your eyes were everywhere on him. They were eyeing the layer of sweat on his chest that glistened due to the lights. Then they traveled down between your legs, watching Jake pound into you with such determination. Now, they're staring straight into his puppy-dog-like eyes that were doted in lust.

His hand grasped your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he could watch how you reacted to his relentless thrusts. His thoughts were in disarray, drunk off the sensation of your walls squeezing around him as if you wanted to milk him dry. You felt as if your brain had short-circuited, babbling out incoherent nonsense. "Oh fuck, oh, god, fuck yes! There! Just like that, fucking god!"

You were nearly sobbing at this point. It was almost too much when you felt a fire pooling low in your abdomen. Jake could sense you were near with the way your walls were fluttering around his dick. "Are you close, baby?" He rasps, pressing his forehead against yours.

Your eyes were screwed shut, and the only thing open was your mouth which poured out a series of obscene noises along with a choked 'yes!'.

Jake bought his other hand up to rub fast circles against your clit, bringing you over your tipping point. "'m gonna cum, jae! Fuck— I'm cumming!" Like a spring coiling tightly and then being released, your orgasm crashes down on you. You feel both your body and mind dissolving into pleasure, clamping tightly around Jake's cock as a result.

You forced your eyelids apart in time to see Jake's face contort as his thrusts grew sloppy and erratic. His jaw hung low, tongue nearly poking out the side of his mouth (just like a puppy). "Gon' cum inside you, y/n. I like you so—" With a lewd cry, he nuzzles his face into your neck before fucking his cock deep into your sopping pussy, spurting out ropes and ropes of his hot, sticky cum to coat your inner walls.

His hips stuttered against yours. And you moan because you can feel his cock pulsating inside you, continuing to pump more cum inside you. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if it began to leak out by now. "stuff you full of my f-fucking cum.. god, this tight pussy's milking me dry."

Although visibly spent from his mind-numbing orgasm, he made sure not to crush you by falling limp beside you.

You both bask in your post-orgasm daze by holding each other closely. His arm was slung around your waist whilst you nuzzled your face against his chest. His heart was palpitating, but he wasn't sure if it was from the earth-shattering sex he just had, or if it was the fact that he currently has you engulfed in his arms... after the most earth-shattering sex you guys just had.

"We should study together more often." Jake says, sending you a wink before reaching over to grab his glasses from the coffee table.

"Or.." You grab his glasses out of his hand, "We could do this more often," You slip on his specs, "—as boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Really?" He questions, eyebrows perking up. You can imagine the dog ears on him perking up as well.

You smile wholeheartedly, "Yes, really."

His hand cups the side of your face before he eagerly captures your lips into a passionate kiss. Your lips molded with his as if it were a perfect fit.

You pull away, letting him nuzzle his face into your neck, "Jake." You call out softly.

"Hm?" He answers.

"Were you planning on pulling out anytime soon?"

He pulls away from your neck to give you a playful smile. "I mean.. I can go for another round."

[kix-mm]

Will their be part 3 of A once cruel god. G/t short story and end with a good ending?

A once cruel god. G/t short story pt4

Hehehehe

Pt1 - Pt3

Amber cautiously looked up at Victor, expecting the sight of some witty smile or the face of someone holding back a laugh. Maybe Victor had just gotten better at sounding serious... but not even his face gave away the joke.

Victors brows were furrowed into a worried expression, his eyes were strangely puffy, and there was no smile, not even a smirk. This was getting harder for Amber to tell if it was genuine or not. "Y-youre joking right, my lord?-" "Victor.."

Amber winced at his voice, bracing for any impact. "I'm sorry..?" "Call me by my name... not my title, please..." Victor asked with his hands clasped together. He almost looked like an angel whenever he did that. "Will you help me become a better person?" Victors eyes shimmer with hope, making Amber even more uncomfortable than he was a moment before. "Why me? How could I possibly help you? I'm just a human... you're a god, nothing I say has any meaning to you"

"That has changed..." Victor insisted, holding Ambers tiny hand with another one of his. "Please, give me a chance to listen and do better... I'll listen from now on, honest"

That stung Victor badly. How could he think something like that? Who had told him such a lie? Ambers words always meant so much to him. How could he not know this? Was his love for the human not clear enough? His praise and kindness were always something he'd stride for. But then again, praise and kindness had always been the only thing he'd listen to, though he could never understand it, he understood the tone, anything otherwise meant nothing to him... oh...

Amber instinctively pulled his hand back, afraid to lose the only one he had left. He could not believe what he was hearing, this all sounded so genuine, too good to be true, what was the catch? "A-and... if I can't? If I say something you don't like? What will happen to me?" He asks while rubbing his arm, looking down at the stump it was reduced to, Victor was already quite fond of the taste of humans, so would Amber become nothing more than a light snack?

"Nothing will!" Victor raises his voice in insistence. "N-nothing will happen to you! I'm asking you a favor after all." Amber seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden pressure. If he was genuine about this, he would have the opportunity to make sure Victor never hurts anyone ever again! Nobody would ever have to go through the horrendous torture that so many lost their lives to... but on the other hand, Amber was a mere human. He didn't know what would be best for a giant - a god, what if he makes a mistake in his teaching? A human error?

Ambers' thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud growl, making the poor human freeze in fear. He looked up at Victor to see the young god flush red with embarrassment and hug his stomach. "s-sorry... wait- where are you going??" Amber had begun to once again desperately dragging himself away, as did every other human servant flee. This made Victor only feel more ostracized and embarrassed. "H-hey, come on... nothing is going to happen to you." He gently picks Amber up, who squirms at first but quickly gives up.

"My lord- Victor, please put me down - I-I don't want to - I promise I'll help you! I promise! Just please put me down!" Victor beams at Ambers words, once again ignoring the young man's plea in favor of Amber promising to help him. "Really? Do you mean it? Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" He pushes Amber against his chest, a childlike joy radiated off of Victor. This was supposed to be a hug of some kind.

Then came another growl, Victor wanted to just sink through the floor and disappear. Even feeling Amber tensed up again was making him feel bad. He slowly placed Amber down and lowered himself to their height once more. "I'm sorry about that." Victor speaks in a soft voice, knowing all too well that a moment like this was responsible for a great deal of pain for Amber.

"Shouldn't you eat something..?" Victor shakes his head. "I can't yet, I'm on a diet..." Amber frowns "a diet? Why are you on a diet?" Victor taps his finger nervously on the marbled floor. "I...Ate someone..."

Amber looked confused. Yes, of course, he ate someone. His main diet consisted of human flesh, so it was to be expected that he might eat a human walking around carelessly.

But then he thought a little more about it, and the realization hit him like a brick. Victor wasn't talking about humans, was he? Rather, his own kind - a god. As if Victor wasn't enough of a menace already, he had to take it a step further and become a cannibal!

"You-" Victor nods slowly, his stomach growls some more. "I can't leave my room until all their remains have gone, so now I've just got... cravings..." he explains. "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't. Everything was so strange, and everyone was acting so weird, and I just - I don't know why I did it! I enjoyed it so much - Amber, it was terrible, I ate everything!" Victor holds his stomach tighter as it growls again.

Amber sat there in shock, eating humans was already seen as cruel, but it wasn't frowned upon too much by the gods, but one god eating another? That's a god eater, one of their only fears. As if Victor wasn't isolated enough due to his background, now he has become a threat to everyone involved.

"I won't hurt you, Amber... please don't look at me like I'm a monster.." Victor sounded devastated, not for what he did, but for seeing Ambers eyes like that.

"But... but you've just committed the biggest act of treason. You killed your own kind - you ate your own kind!" Amber had slowly tried to create some distance between the two, but it had no use, Victor wasn't going to let him hide this time.

Amber gulped, thoughts rapidly spun through his mind to try and sugar the god up, pleasing him is all that he knew could make a difference. But just as he was about sweeten his voice and speak some nonsense to go right to the gods head he was stopped by a large finger gently pressing against his lips.

"Amber... don't, please, I'm over that, and I just need you... to stay here with me. " Victors gaze was that of genuine need. Amber was all he had. No other human would feel like they were being listened to and would just continue to be a yes man. Victor laid his head down on the surface, his large eyes delicately trained on Amber.

"You can't help me with this, I merely have to wait it out... so in the meantime... could you teach me to be... better?" Victor asked, already knowing that the human didn't have much of an answer.

Amber looked nervous, rightfully so. There was so much pressure. What would he even begin with?

[fatgirlonadate-blog]

21 Days - Day 15

Something inside of Xavier has shifted. You can’t quite define it or give it a name, but you can sense it, see it in every glance and feel it in every touch. He is not the same man he was yesterday.

What a difference a day can make.

The change isn't anything obvious—most things haven't changed at all. He is as shy and sweet and earnest as he has always been. He still blushes when you touch him, he still pouts when you tease him, and he is still playful and warm.

But the shadow behind his eyes, the hint of sadness in his smile, is disappearing. There is a growing certainty in him that was not there before, as if he has made a choice -some choice- and it has freed him in a way that seems to extend beyond just his secrets.

It's absurd, but you can't shake the thought that he chose you yesterday—that, somehow, you were always a choice he had to make. You don’t even know what the alternative might have been, but now, when he looks at you, the affection in his eyes feels complete, as if it’s here to stay.

Maybe his fevered promise not to leave again was truly meant for you after all. But that only raises more questions—had he been planning to leave you? And when did he leave the first time?

If you were the choice, then what was the other option?

He has remained tight lipped about this particular detail - unwilling to share any part of it. Other small secrets about his past have trickled out in fragments over the past 24 hours—never fully explained and always a little vague, but still unmistakably genuine. He’s trying to open up, and you’re trying your best not to push him. The rest will come later, you tell yourself.

In the meantime, you have a much more immediate issue to deal with.

There is no other way to put it - Xavier has become adorably, maddeningly clingy. He hasn’t let you stray more than an arm’s length since yesterday, and if he weren't so infuriatingly old fashioned, you're pretty sure he'd have slept with his cock buried deep inside you last night. Instead, he’d settled for holding you close, your back pressed firmly to his chest, with his hand resting possessively between your thighs.

It’s not exactly a bad thing; in fact, you love him even more like this. Every time he teleports to your side instead of walking, you can’t help but laugh, as if the seconds saved are simply too precious for him to waste. You marvel at the confidence in his touch now, the way he explored your body this morning like he owns it. And you fall even deeper for him every time he willingly gives you some crumb of information about who he really is.

You're savoring every moment with him and wish you could pause time and stay like this, just the two of you, forever. But you have a plan today - one that he cannot be a part of because it would spoil the surprise.

"Xavier," You whisper, trying to pull away from his insistent kisses, "I really do have to go soon. I have to check in with Jenna. In person this time. You know how she feels about being kept waiting."

Xavier acts as if he didn’t hear you, keeping you pinned firmly against the front door. His lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, biting gently before soothing it with a warm flick of his tongue. By now, he’s already delayed you at least ten minutes with those distracting, lingering kisses—reminders of just how skilled he is with his mouth.

"Xavier," you say more firmly.

He huffs as he pulls back just far enough for his blue eyes to lock onto yours, and the pout in them is nearly enough to break you.

"Why are you calling me that?" He asks, his forehead dropping to yours as he holds you to him, his nose rubbing against yours.

"What?"

"You usually call me Xav now. Or bunny."

A soft laugh escapes your lips at his confused, slightly pouty tone. "Xavier… Xav, I really need to—"

"But...," He protests, ducking his head to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck again. "Let's go together. We're partners. I go where you go."

"It's supposed to be 24-hour surveillance, Xav. You know we both can't go. We already agreed on this yesterday."

"Yesterday was yesterday. Can't we make a new agreement today?"

The whine in his voice is killing you, but you really do want to surprise him. This birthday needs to be special; he deserves to feel special.

"Not this time, Xav."

Xavier's mouth trails down to your neck, each kiss sending a spark through you as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you firmly against him. You have to bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning as you feel the insistent press of his hardness against you, even through the layers of clothing.

"Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?" he murmurs, his voice a low, promising whisper.

His mouth is pure temptation against your skin, making it hard to remember why you need to leave. But there will be time for this later—hopefully endless time, forever, if you have anything to say about it.

"Bunny, please." You breathe out, threading your fingers through his hair to gently tug his greedy lips away from your skin. "I have to get going. I'm going to be late."

Xavier pulls back and fixes you with the saddest puppy dog eyes that have ever existed. "I can't believe you'd actually...leave me alone in this house."

"I'll make it up to you when I get home, I promise. And I won't be gone long."

Xavier sighs and nods as his arms tighten around your waist. He lets out a defeated groan, and mumbles, "How long?"

"It's just a few hours. I'll be back before you know it." You smile gently at the boyish sulk that has spread across his face as he continues to mope and press small kisses along your jaw.

Finally he gives in and lets out a heavy sigh that fans out along your skin. “Alright,” he grumbles, releasing his hold on your waist and taking a step back.

The small bit of distance clears your head just enough, and you shake it slightly, trying to dispel the lingering desire coursing through you. God, this man has you so wrapped around his finger that you can barely think straight.

You flash him a quick smile and turn to open the door, but pause, throwing him a puzzled look as he moves to follow you.

"Xav, you know you can’t come with me, right?" you say, a mix of amusement and exasperation in your voice.

He nods, pulling the door open and gesturing for you to go ahead, slipping an arm around your waist as he guides you through. "I know," he says with a grin. "I’m just escorting you to the station. I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I?"

It’s hard to believe that the man who used to vanish for days, even though he was just next door, now can’t imagine being apart from you for more than a few hours. It’s a clinginess you’re not used to—not from him, not from anyone—but oddly, it doesn’t bother you. There’s something deeply comforting about being wanted this much, and you can’t help but hope it never changes.

"I’ll miss you," you say, rising on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Xavier’s cheek as your train pulls into the station. "And try not to blow up the house while I’m gone, alright?"

He looks like he wants to argue, his hand tightening around yours, but then his eyes soften, and he gives you a gentle smile, slipping into his practiced, fake-husband role. “Come back soon, Mrs. Shen. Stay safe.”

He’s an exceptionally good fake husband. So convincing, in fact, that the word itself—fake—irritates you as it echoes in your mind on the train ride into the city. Your marriage to him is fake, yet with each passing day, it feels more real. The thought of it ending… It's almost unthinkable.

As soon as you step off the train and into the city, your plan for the day begins to unravel. The check-in with Jenna is mercifully brief, but her urgency to wrap up this mission leaves you tense and uneasy as you navigate sidewalks that are already too slick for comfort.

Snow in October is a rarity in Linkon, but here it is—thick, heavy flakes falling from the sky, dusting the sidewalks in a thin layer of white. It’s beautiful, but bitterly cold, and you're not dressed nearly warm enough for it.

You shiver as you wander from shop to shop, collecting things for Xavier’s birthday. A surprise party had crossed your mind, but inviting a bunch of fellow hunters to your covert mission apartment didn’t exactly scream discreet. So instead, you’ve opted for something simpler—something you hope he’ll love, even if it has the potential to set the place on fire.

But if it makes him happy? It just might be worth the risk.

The cake ingredients were easy enough to acquire, but the decorations were trickier, the items scattered throughout the city, rather than all together in one single shop. By the time you finish collecting everything for the perfect birthday cake, you're freezing and damp with snow. 

The warmth of the nearby cafe and the promise of something sweet was impossible to resist, and you sigh with relief as you dump your shopping bags onto a table and strip off your cold, damp jacket. A steaming cup of hot chocolate and three macarons later, your phone buzzes in your purse. You dig through the clutter of your wallet and keys to find your phone. It vibrates in your hand again as you pick it up and the screen glows with a notification:

(4) Voice Messages from Xavier

Xavier: Is it snowing there?

Xavier: We ran out of vinegar. Can you get some on your way home?

Xavier: Are you on your way back yet?

Xavier: Are you talking to someone outside right now?

You try not to smile at your phone like an idiot, but you fail as warmth floods through you at the sound of his voice. It’s amazing how a handful of words can make you feel so secure. There's something foreign but comforting about having someone care for you like this - someone waiting for you to get home. It's been a long time since you've had such a simple luxury, and you hadn't realized how much you've missed it.

You: I have to stop and pick up a few more things. But I'll be home soon.

Xavier: What do you want for dinner?

You're contemplating the least disastrous option as footsteps approach your table, and you glance up just in time to see a familiar face.

"Fancy meeting you here, miss bodyguard. There are easier ways to find me, you know. You don't have to stalk me." Rafayel smirks.

He slides into the chair across from you, meeting your wide-eyed gaze as he casually plucks a green macaron from your plate and takes a bite.

Has he always looked like that? you wonder as he flashes you a playful, disarming smile.

Seeing Rafayel is like looking at a masterpiece—he’s almost too perfect, so striking it’s hard to believe he’s real. You thought you’d grown used to his looks ages ago, that you had built up a certain immunity to it. But a few weeks apart have undone that, leaving you vulnerable to his effortless charm again.

Xavier is undeniably handsome, but Rafayel—even dressed simply in a sweater and dark pants—is goddamned majestic.

"Raf! Hey! Uh, what...what are you doing here?" You manage, surprised.

He's wearing his signature look of lazy amusement. His inky purple hair is slightly damp from snow, and he runs a hand through it as he takes another bite of your dessert.

"What do you mean? I come here all of the time. Shouldn't I be asking you that question? You're supposed to be locked away somewhere trying to catch a bad guy, yeah?"

"Oh, shut up. I haven't been locked away; the mission is just taking a while. I came into town today for a mission update." You say, and wave toward your bags, "and some shopping."

His eyes flick toward your bags, narrowing on the pastel letters spelling 'Happy Birthday' across the card that's peeking out.

"Mission update, hm? Interesting," he drawls as he pops the remaining bit of macaron in his mouth. "I'm surprised you escaped your tower, your highness. You haven't really bothered to respond to my texts for the past week. I was starting to think you'd been captured or that you got possessed by Wanderers or something."

"Uh," you stammer, quickly sliding another bag over the one he's eyeing, shifting awkwardly in your chair. "Sorry about that. I’ve just been... really busy."

Though his tone is playful, there's a hint of hurt beneath it that tugs at your heart, just as it always does. He’d deny it until he was blue in the face, but you know he can’t stand feeling ignored—and it sucks to know you're the reason for it this time.

He shrugs and leans back, draping his arms across the back of his chair as he casually crosses an ankle over his knee. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Secret missions and saving the world and whatever. Same as always."

The tired sound of resignation in his voice makes your smile falter, and you can only guess at what's really going on behind those galaxy eyes of his.

After countless late-night phone calls, you used to wonder if there might be something real between you and Rafayel. He was a flirt—that much had been clear from the start—and you’d brushed off his advances, wary of reading too much into them. But sometimes, when it was just the two of you, when the flirting grew a little more heated or the light touches became bolder and hungrier, you were almost certain there was something more. That he felt it, too.

But he never took it further, and the moment would fade as if it had never happened at all.

It doesn’t matter now, you remind yourself, tearing your gaze away to stare out the window. The sky has darkened, snow falling steadily against the glass, and your train will be leaving soon. Whatever might have been between you is just a memory now—one you are scared to dwell on any longer.

"We'll catch up when my mission is over, okay?" You swear, rushing the words as you stand up and shove your jacket on, reaching for the bags on the floor. "I'll come over, you can tell me all about your newest exhibit, and we'll make fun of Thomas together. I pinky promise."

"What?" His eyes widen, and he quickly stands, reaching out to still your hand as you go for another bag. "You’re leaving already? You just got here."

"Raf—" You sigh, guilt gnawing at you for more than one reason. Xavier is waiting. "I really do have to go. My train leaves soon."

His grip tightens around your wrist, his warm hand almost scorching hot as he stares at you with a rare flash of desperation in his eyes. It makes him look vulnerable for just a fraction of a moment, and something inside you tightens, torn between the urge to ease the ache you've caused in him and the need to put distance between yourself and old feelings you’d rather not think about.

"Let me walk you to your stop then," he says, his tone light and easy, but he's still holding your hand prisoner. His suggestion isn’t really a suggestion—it’s more of a demand.

"Fine," You say, rolling your eyes dramatically even as a smile forces its way onto your face. "But make yourself useful. Help me carry this stuff."

Rafayel grins and lets go of your wrist, bending to scoop up most of the bags. "Jeez, these are pretty heavy. I better get some kind of awesome reward for all of this labor."

A chill wind and swirling snowflakes greet you as you step out of the café, making you mutter a curse under your breath. If you’d known it was going to snow, you’d have worn a real coat.

"I hate snow," you grumble as you fall into step beside him.

"What do you mean?" he grins, bumping your hip with his. "Snow is like magic. Look around!" 

He gestures to the snow-dusted trees and buildings blanketed in white. "Each flake is unique, perfect in its own way, turning everything ordinary into something miraculous, if only for a moment. And...it also looks really pretty in your hair."

His enthusiasm is infectious, and his words make you feel warm despite the chill wind cutting through the thin material of your jacket. Maybe you don’t actually hate snow after all.

The walk to the station goes by in a blur as you catch up on the last two weeks: gossiping neighbors, Thomas, how cold the city is this year, his new exhibition, your boring surveillance work—keeping it light and casual.

It almost feels like nothing has changed—the two of you chatting, him cracking jokes and teasing you to get a reaction, and the way your stomach flutters every time he brushes against you. He doesn’t do that by accident; you're sure of it.

A pang of longing hits as you realize just how much you’ve missed this. Despite how he gets under your skin like no one else, his friendship means more than you’d ever care to admit. 

Yes, he drives you crazy, and your feelings for him are confusing—but he’s always had this way of making the world seem brighter, lighter, and somehow more beautiful than you could ever see it on your own.

"It's so cold. I’m frozen solid," you declare, setting your bags down on the bench outside the train station. You’re about ten minutes early, and the air is only getting colder. Your fingers sting with the chill, and you blow on them in a vain attempt to warm up.

Rafayel sets the rest of the bags beside yours with a chuckle, shaking his head, "You're right, it is cold. Too cold for my delicate hands." He pouts, his brows knitting together as he exaggerates a shiver and opens his arms wide. “Hold me.”

"Raf..." You laugh, amused and exasperated.

"Come on, cutie. Don't you know how body heat works?" He quirks a brow, stepping toward you. "You wouldn't let me freeze to death, would you?"

His smile is dazzling, effortlessly charming, and completely irresistible—the kind that melts your resolve into a mushy mess. It’s the sort of smile that can't be refused.

You reluctantly return his smile, already mostly deaf to the alarm bells ringing in your ears, and step into his embrace. “Okay, okay. Just for a little while.”

Rafayel laughs, a warm sound rumbling through his chest as he wraps one arm tightly around you, pulling you close. With his other hand, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his cold fingers brushing gently over your cheek and neck. The sharp, clean scent of him—citrus and sea salt—fills your senses as you lean into him, soaking in his warmth.

The alarm in the back of your mind grows louder, more frantic, the closer you get. Yet the soft thrum of his heartbeat, syncing with yours, drowns it out, and the warmth of his breath against your skin is enough to silence the knot of warning you feel in your stomach. The familiar scent that clings to him wraps around you like a shield, blocking out even the smallest of doubts.

"Hold still," he says softly, his fingers threading through your hair as he gently combs it out. "You've got snowflakes in your hair."

A sarcastic remark hovers on the tip of your tongue—of course you have snowflakes in your hair, he does too, it's snowing—but the warmth in his eyes as he strokes your hair holds you silent. His fingers are gentle as he carefully smooths your hair back even as more snowflakes continue to fall, and he leans even closer to see his task clearly in the dim evening light.

Your cheeks flush as he moves closer, leaning into you, and a familiar warmth builds inside of you, making it hard to breathe evenly. You turn your head away from his hand, but he frowns and gently cups your cheek, tilting your face up to his.

"Hey," he scolds gently, "I'm not done. Don't move."

But his hand doesn’t return to your hair. Instead, he gently caresses your reddening cheek, a soft smile spreading across his face. "You're being pretty shy," he murmurs.

And you are. No sarcastic remarks or witty comebacks come to mind, not with the way he’s pressed against you, the softness of his touch on your cheek, and with his face so close to yours. The only sound you can make is a quiet hum that doesn't mean anything at all.

His eyes roam from your cheek to your ears and down to your neck, and he slides his hand along the same path. "Hmm. Your cheeks, and your ears, and even your neck...are all so cold. Do you want me to help warm you up?"

It’s not just warmth in his eyes anymore; it’s heat, and your stomach flips as he drops the tone of his voice to a low purr. The feel of his warm breath against the side of your neck makes your pulse quicken and your own breath catches in your throat.

"Is it working?" He whispers, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks.

You nod, barely breathing, as the heat that has built inside of you threatens to ignite into a blaze, your body trembling as you press against him.

“What about here?” Rafayel asks, shifting to the other side of your neck. His warm breath caresses your cool skin before he nuzzles close, trailing slow, lingering kisses from your ear to your neck.

He’s never kissed you before; of that, you’re certain. Yet somehow, in this moment, it’s as if you’re reliving a memory. His warmth, his scent, his touch, the way his body presses against yours—it feels natural, achingly familiar, as if you’ve known it all along. You could lose yourself here, drown in the sensation, and never surface again.

You’re trembling, but not from the cold, as Rafayel pulls back, his hands gently cupping your face. “You’re so quiet,” he says, his voice laced with curiosity. “I haven't the slightest idea of what’s going on in that head of yours. Have my awesome heating skills truly rendered you speechless?”

All you can manage is a shaky laugh, more like a breathless gasp, unable to form a single coherent word as a wave of déjà vu hits you, overwhelming and intense.

"Looking at my bodyguard..." He pauses, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "I can't tell if she's happy right now..." Leaning in, he brushes a soft kiss against the corner of your lips, then locks eyes with you. "Or maybe she's not?"

You stare, wide-eyed, unable to break free from the grip of the dizzying familiarity of this all— frozen in place by how deeply, unexplainably right it all feels.

"Raf, I..." You trail off, lost for words, unsure of what you're trying to express, but knowing you have to say something. Anything. That you can't do this with him, or that you need more of him. Or that, sometimes, two things can be true.

Before you can untangle your thoughts or find the words to express your conflicted feelings, he silences you with a kiss. It’s gentle at first, tentative—his lips brushing softly against yours. Then the kiss deepens, his mouth pressing to yours with an intensity that feels raw, as if the longing comes from the depths of his soul.

You’re drowning now, clinging to him as if he’s your anchor amid the waves of emotion and memory crashing over you. For a moment, time and space collapse, and it feels like this has always been your life, as if this is just one second in a lifetime spent with him like this.

But the brush of his tongue against yours snaps you back to reality, and you tense in his arms, your hand moving to the back of his neck to gently pull him away.

"What?" he whispers, breaking the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours. "Do you want me to stop?"

His voice sounds so tender and hopeful that it breaks your heart a little, and your stomach twists with guilt as you lean away from his embrace.

In another life, you’d beg him to keep going. In another universe, you’d be his completely—mind, body, and soul. You can feel the way his heart calls your name.

But not this life; not in this universe. In all of the world, there is only one call your heart answers to, and it is Xavier's.

“Raf,” you whisper, your voice soft and aching, “I’m so sorry, but—”

"I know what you're going to say," Raf cuts you off before you even finish, hurt replacing the warmth in his eyes, "Sooo you don't have to say it."

He drops his hands from your face and steps back, and the cold wind that cuts through you is nothing compared to the burning ache flaring to life in your chest.

He runs a hand through his hair, shaking loose a few snowflakes, and lets out a bitter laugh. “I guess things with the ‘fake’ husband aren’t so fake anymore, yeah?”

"I love him," you admit, the words escaping before you can stop them, leaving you stunned. You’d never said it out loud before, never dared to voice what you felt. But now it’s out, and there's no taking it back.

Rafayel laughs again, a choked sound that gets stuck in his throat, and looks up at the sky as if searching for an answer there. After a moment, he groans softly before his eyes return to yours, "Oh, that intense, huh?"

You nod, silent, unwilling to say anything more for fear of deepening the hurt in his eyes. The few feet of space between you feel insurmountable, and you itch to close the distance, to reach out and comfort him somehow.

Rafayel sighs, his hand motioning toward the empty air, as if Xavier were standing here, too. "Is he... is he better than me?"

"No, Raf," You groan, the ache in your heart burning even brighter, "He's not better. It's just...different. I can't explain it."

Rafayel looks away again, his lips pressing together in a tight line, before turning back to you with an uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes. "Just...promise you won't forget about me, okay?"

Tears sting your cheeks, and the hurt, desperate sound of his plea is all the proof you need to understand that a broken heart can keep breaking.

"Oh, Raf, I could never forget about you," you promise, stepping closer. You reach for his arm just as the train pulls into the station, the loudspeaker announcing its arrival.

"I won’t," you swear, ignoring the blaring sound. "Never."

He steps back from your outstretched fingers, and his voice and eyes harden as he replies, "You will. You always do."

The train stops, passengers streaming past, and you open your mouth, trying to reassure him—but no words come. A wave of uncertainty hits as his cryptic words echo in your mind, and you fail to make sense of them.

The option to reach for him, to pull him close and comfort him, is stolen from you as he turns around and starts walking back in the direction you came.

"Get on the train," he calls over his shoulder, "Don't keep Romeo waiting."

You hesitate, your fist clenching as your heart and mind fight for control. Watching him walk away feels like losing a part of yourself, though you can't quite understand why.

You board the train with tears in your eyes, and search through your purse for your phone. You send a quick message to Xavier to let him know you'll be there soon, and try to collect the pieces of your heart as the train speeds toward home.

Xavier chose you yesterday. And today, you chose him.

This star isn't going anywhere. 

[panpanghost]

Part 4 of this (I'm sorry, idk what I'm doing but so many people are interested in this and I'm trying to give you a proper au.)

So the crown was made by dark magic and making the curse required the sacrifice of an entire... kingdom... Would taking it off also require a sacrifice?

There's also something off about the translation, how come it doesn't say how to do the spell or undo it? Where is the rest of this? Maybe I can find something in the celestial realm, but I can't leave Moonpie alone here. They might return to take him and he can't protect himself... Maybe I can get MK to watch over him-

_"Wukong! Showers!" Macaque called from the hot bath tub, it's like a little swimming pool or a jacuzzi, being king is great.

_"Coming!" Wukong loves this. He can't wait to have Macaque wash his hair and untangle all the knots.

After Macaque lost his memories they shower together almost everyday. Sure, when Macaque first walked in on him in the showers he almost had a heart attack, but now that he's gotten used to it like before, it's so great and relaxing. To most creatures it's considered rude or invasion of privacy, but not to monkeys, they do that to show their bonds and love to each other. No one understands that, only Macaque does.

_"Where have you been? Get in." Macaque said already sitting in the water.

_"Sorry about that, little ones were having a fight." Wukong says undressing,

_"Again? These guys create trouble when there's none."

_"I know, right?" Wukong said relaxing in the warm water,

_"Don't get too comfy, someone needs to groom my furr."

_"So demanding." Even though he said that, this is Wukong's favourite part about the showers, Macaque loves his furr, sure it's not as thick and silky as it used to be but Wukong will make sure it gets back to its previous glory.

_"Hey Sunny..." Macaque spoke after a while, picking at his tail,

_"Yeh Moony?" It's been so long since Macaque used that nickname for him, he can't get used to it, his heart will explode.

_"I was wondering... Would it be okay if you take me to see the kid and his friends."

_"Wh-Why?"

_"I want to ask them something."

_"You can ask me."

_"I know, but you won't answer."

_"What are you talking about? I always answer."

_"No, you never do. I don't even know the kid's name because you won't tell me and won't let me meet him to ask!"

_"It's MK. Just calm down, no need to be so angry about it."

_"I am angry, Wukong. Why won't you tell me anything?! Why does he have your staff? Why is he radiating your energy?! Why is he even allowed to come here?! Is he-" Macaque takes a deep breath, "Is he yours?"

_"What? NO! nonononono no, he's not, he was just born from the same rock as me, that's all."

_"What?"

_"Listen, I gave him the staff because I want him to be my successor."

_"A successor? You're immortal, why would you need that?"

_"Because... Because I'm tired." Wukong let down his glamour as he said that and Macaque could see all his scars, it was silent for a moment,

_"oh Wukong..." Macaque watched in horror, he approached slowly in case his sun wanted him to stop, "life hasn't been kind to you, has it?" Macaque held his face in his hands,

_"..." Wukong just melted in Macaque's warmth as he kissed his scars, gently, one by one,

_"Who did this?" Macaque asked, looking in his king's eyes.

Wukong saw it, the same murderous eyes his moon had when he first saw the monk use the fillet on him. Wukong doesn't blame him, he had the same look on his face when he saw his moon drenched in blood and those assholes trying to abduct him. He'll kill them when he finds them.

_"He's gone, been dead for years now."

_"Hm. Lucky." Macaque said, a bit of disappointment in his voice.

_"Heh, forget about him, just, stay with me okay?"

_"Where would I go without you?" Macaque hugged Wukong, bringing him closer to his chest.

But you did, you left, and I didn't know where you were, you only came when the world was ending then disappeared again. But it's ok now, You can't leave. I won't let you.

_"Hey, do you think we'll have matching scars?" Macaque asked jokingly,

_"Why? Does it hurt?" Wukong yanked himself out of the hugg and held Macaque's head, is the crown crushing his skull?!!!!

_"No, it doesn't," Macaque held his hands, "I can't feel it most of the time, only when I try to use my powers. I was just wondering if it'll leave a mark, and then we can have matching scars."

_"Not unless you can pluck my eye out."

_"No use, it'll just regenerate."

_"Yeh, that would happen." Wait-

_"Let's get out of this shower, it feels suffocating and I'm hungry." Macaque got out of the tub, "Let's go."

My eyes regenerate, can I give him one-

_"Wukong!"

_"A! You go first, I'll just wash a little more then fallow you."

_"Alright, but just wash up, I'll groom your furr inside." Macaque said putting a towel on,

_"Ok." he gave Macaque a little smile as he left.

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

champagne supernova

summary - After the events in Sokovia, Wanda goes to live at the Avengers compound and there she ends up getting closer to Natasha, someone she initially thought hated her. Natasha had every reason in the world to hate Wanda, but seeing her so lost and broken with Pietro's death made Natasha, even if unconsciously, take on a protective stance towards Wanda, and the closer they got, the more a feeling that Natasha never thought she could really feel came to the surface. Clint invites them to spend Christmas with his family, feeling that some time away from the Avengers compound would do them good. And he wasn't wrong.

warning(s) — Fluff, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, More Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Canon Divergence, post Age of Ultron, My First Work in This Fandom, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Soft Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, mentions of Pietro, No Wanda/Vision, no nat/bruce, Natasha is a big softie, also is wanda, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Lesbian Wanda Maximoff, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, Mild Smut, Eventual Smut minors DNI please word count: 14,550k

Natasha felt her heart ache with agony when Hulk’s image disappeared from the screen. She knew Bruce had been battling with his own demons for a long time and even after joining the Avengers and saving the world more than they count, even now that they had found a way to put Hulk to sleep with ease, he still couldn’t relax. He was always on alert. And things only got worse after they met the Maximmof’s twins and Wanda used her abilities to make him lose control and attack and destroy everything in his path. Nat sighed deeply, trying not to show any emotions in that ship surrounded by so many people she didn’t know. 

“So, where’s Bruce?” Fury asked, appearing at her side. 

“I don’t know. He turned off the communication system and kept the Quinjet in stealth mood.”

“Well, at least the Quinjet is completely equipped. He’ll be fine.” Fury sighed, running a hand through his head. “Go get some rest, there’s nothing we can do for now.” 

“Where are the others?” 

“Barton and Rogers are in the infirmary. Tony rescued Thor after the city blew up and they were thrown down, and Vision just left Wanda here a moment ago.” 

“Where is Pietro?” 

Natasha felt tears welling up once again at Fury just shaking his head. “How?” 

“Ultron’s final attack.” 

“Where’s Wanda?” 

“She’s down there, with Pietro.” 

Natasha nodded and without saying anything else started her way to the lower levels of the ship. She wasn’t sure why she was going to check on Wanda, why she cared, especially after what she did, entering her mind, bringing back her worst memories, but still. 

It didn’t take long for Natasha to locate Wanda and despite everything, it broke her heart to see her like that: her head on Pietro’s chest as her tears streamed down her face silently. She wasn’t sure what she would do or say as Wanda probably held them accountable for losing her brother, and in a way she was right. If Tony hadn’t created Ultron none of this would have happened. She also knew that Tony meant well but still. 

Natasha sighed and approached them slowly, not wanting to startle Wanda, and not wanting to invade her final moments with her brother, but definitely not wanting her to be alone right now. She didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t very good at it, and the fact that she barely knew them didn’t help at all. Each person reacted differently to their grief, and Natasha had no idea how Wanda would react to her presence there.

“What?” 

Wanda’s heavy accent and annoyed tone pulled her out of her thoughts. “Sorry, I just wanted to check on you.” Nat sighed, kneeling beside her.

“Why? Want to make sure I won’t use my powers to kill everyone in here?” 

Natasha’s brow furrowed. Why would she think that?

“So?” 

“I’m sorry.” Natasha shook her head. “No one here thinks you will do such a thing. I just- I’m not going to ask if you’re okay because that would be a really stupid question, I guess I just didn’t want you to be alone right now.” She shrugged. 

“Why?” 

“I won’t pretend I know how you’re feeling but I know the feeling of losing someone you loved.” Natasha said softly, more softly than she ever thought possible regarding Wanda but then her eyes flickered to Pietro’s body and well… 

God, she was exhausted. She sat on the floor and leaned back, her whole body sore, her muscles complaining against the awkward position and the hard floor beneath her. 

“So, what happens to me now?” Wanda asked after a minute. 

“As far as I am concerned, you stay with us.” Natasha said, running a hand through her hair. “I mean, unless you don’t want to.” 

“And where exactly would I go now?” 

Natasha opened and closed her mouth a few times before settling for silence. She knew the implications of what Wanda said - she had lost everything, everyone. She didn’t have anywhere to go. 

“I know.” Natasha exhaled deeply. “What I meant is that you don’t have to stay at the compound, or with us at all. I know that you hate us, that you hate Tony.” She bit her lip, thinking about the options. “I mean, I hope that despite everything, you decide to stay with us, but if not, then I’m sure Fury can help find a place for you.” 

Natasha saw the surprise in the way Wanda’s eyes widened a bit at her words, at the way her brows rose, and she was surprised herself, but she realized that she meant it. Even if she was still mad at Wanda for invading her mind and making her relieve her worst memories, she knew what it was like to be completely alone and with nowhere to go, and she didn’t want that for her. 

“You’re right, I don’t like Stark, but you and the others aren’t so bad.” 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. That was new. And good, maybe. “What made you change your mind about us?”

“Your friend, the arrow guy, he could have let me die down there when I froze, but he didn’t. He saved me. He said that it didn’t matter what I did or who I was, and he didn’t blame me for what was happening. He said that I had the choice to stay hidden and he would send Pietro to get me but if I decided to fight, the moment I walked through that door I would be an Avenger.” 

“Yeah, this is how Clint is.” Natasha smiled genuinely despite everything. “Look, what happened can’t be changed, unfortunately, so, if you decide to stay with us, I promise you that we won’t hold what happened in Sokovia against you. It is your fault as much as ours. But the moment you stepped out of that door, after Clint peeptalk, you became an Avenger and we will help you.”

“As long as Stark is not the one responsible for me, I’m okay with it.” 

“Don’t worry, he won’t be.” Natasha smiled tiredly. 

Before she could say anything else they felt the ship preparing to begin its descent for landing. As soon as the ship stopped they made their way to the higher levels. Natasha nodded as they walked past Fury and led Wanda into the compound. 

“Nat! Wanda!” Clint’s voice stopped them as they were about to enter the building where the living area was. “Thank God you guys are okay.” 

“I wouldn’t say okay, but we are alive.” Natasha said. “How are you?” 

“I’ll be okay.” He smiled weakly. “Look, I spoke to Fury and he will take care of everything-” Clint gestured vaguely. 

“Thank you.” 

Wanda said absently and Nat could only imagine all the mixed emotions she was going through right now. She knew there wasn’t much they could do other than that but still.

“So, I’ll head to the farm, call me if you guys need anything.” Clint said when they remained silent. 

“Thanks, Clint, we’ll do.” Nat smiled tiredly. “C’mon, Wanda, let’s find a room for you.” She put a hand on Wanda’s shoulder, not even realizing what she was doing until they started walking into the building. 

Natasha led Wanda straight to one of the rooms, she could show the place around later. 

“My room is just across the hall.” She pointed to a room with a closed door. “You will find average clothes in the dresser and everything you need in the bathroom if you want to take a bath. God knows I do.” Natasha exhaled shakily. “Just let me know if you need anything, ok?

“I guess you want your jacket back.” Wanda said flatly as she started to remove the item.

“You can keep it. It looks good on you.” Natasha stopped her movements gently. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I was just messing around back in the church.” 

“Okay then.” Wanda smiled, pulling the jacket back. 

Natasha nodded and went to her room. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she started removing her suit and went straight to the bathroom. She filled the bathtub and let her body sink in the hot water as all the feelings from that long week came crashing down on her. 

She felt a mix of exhaustion, anger and sadness simmer beneath the surface, reminders of Ultron’s destruction, Bruce's departure, and the countless losses they had endured along the way. Yet, under it all, she couldn’t shake the nagging awareness of Wanda just down the hall. 

Here was this girl - no, woman - who had lost so much in the span of a single battle. Her face, streaked with tears, haunted Natasha’s mind. It felt strange to feel protective toward her after everything. She wasn’t sure what had compelled her to sit by Wanda's side earlier, other than the raw understanding of how it felt to have no one, to feel like the world would swallow you whole in the quiet after a tragedy. That’s why she avoided being alone, because being alone made her think about life, and loss, and herself. And she hated it. 

Inhaling deeply, Natasha sank a little deeper into the water, closing her eyes to let the warmth seep in. Her muscles started to loosen and she let herself relax a little bit. They had defeated Ultron, Strucker was dead, and for now they didn’t have any monsters or enemies to defeat, besides their own. 

The images of the Red Room started to resurface and Natasha let out a long sigh. It would take her some time to push all those memories away again. She should be fuming at Wanda because of it, but for some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, she couldn’t bring herself to be really mad at her. 

Once her skin began to prune, Natasha reluctantly got out, wrapping a towel around herself and padding barefoot across the floor to her room. She slipped into a loose shirt and sweatpants, and she glanced toward the door, wondering if Wanda was still awake. Maybe she should check on her? Just to make sure she was settled.

Before she could change her mind, Natasha crossed the hall and knocked lightly on Wanda's door. The soft rustle behind the door confirmed that Wanda's was still up, and after a moment, it cracked open. 

"Natasha? Is everything okay?" Wanda’s eyes, still a little red, met hers, surprised but not displeased.

"Yeah, I-" Natasha scratched her neck. "I just want to check how you're settling in, if you need anything." She shrugged.

Wanda tilted her head, confusion all over her face but she stepped aside so Natasha could enter. She looked like she’d washed up too, hair damp, face scrubbed clean, but the sadness hadn’t left her eyes. 

“I’m okay, considering everything, I guess.”

Natasha glanced around the room, knowing what she would find there; the plainness, the sparse, impersonal feel. She knew better than anyone how stark the compound felt to someone who wasn’t used to it, especially to someone grieving. Maybe she should take Wanda shopping, this way they could turn this cold room into something more like… home.

“I thought…” Natasha paused, weighing her words. “I thought maybe you’d like some company. The nights here can be pretty lonely.”

“I-” Wanda blinked, surprised. “Thank you, Natasha.” 

Natasha did her best to ignore how her heart raced or how her stomach fluttered at the way Wanda said her name, with that heavy accent of hers and those big, enchanting, green eyes that seemed to see through her soul. 

“Are you hungry? I can make something for us or we can order anything.” Natasha said, desperately wanting to change her thoughts to something else. 

“I didn’t know you cook.” 

“I know my way around the kitchen.” Natasha shrugged, trying her best to avoid Wanda’s inquiring eyes and the little grin on her lips. “C’mon, let’s see if there is anything we can put together as a meal or if the boys already eat it all.”

They left the room in silence, and Nat was glad that Wanda simply agreed. She could feel Wanda’s eyes roaming around the place as they walked through the corridors down to the kitchen. 

“Of course you would be here.” Natasha teased as she saw Sam in the kitchen. 

“Nat!” He smiled. “Oh, hi!” He said to Wanda. “I don’t think we were properly introduced. I’m Sam.” 

“Hi, Sam.” She shook his hand. “I’m Wanda.” 

“I’m sorry for your brother.” 

“Thank you.” 

Natasha watched the exchange in silence, attentive to Wanda’s reaction. She knew it could be overwhelming but she also knew that Sam was one of the most easy going among them all. It was easy to feel relaxed around him. 

“So, is there anything to eat in this place or you and Steve have already finished everything?” 

“Ouch.” 

Natasha smiled and started going through the cabinets and the fridge in search of something to eat. “Hey, Wanda, how do you feel about mac and cheese?” She had no idea what Wanda liked but pretty much everyone she knew liked mac and cheese. 

“I guess it’s okay.” 

Natasha looked over her shoulder and offered a small grin to Wanda. 

“I love mac and cheese.” Sam said, stuffing another bite of sandwich in his mouth. 

“Aren’t you already eating?” 

“I never say no to mac and cheese.” 

Natasha only shook her head and grabbed everything she would need to put the meal together. She could feel Wanda’s eyes on her, curious, grateful and confused at the same time. It was a weird connection that she felt towards Wanda, but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

“Hey, Sam, can you put the table, please?” 

“Can I help?” 

“Sure.” Nat smiled softly. “Sam, please, show her where everything is.” 

Natasha watched them for a moment, and was grateful for how easy going Sam was. Maybe the fact that Wanda had not entered his mind was a plus for how good they were getting along but still. 

"So when do we start training?" Sam asked as they ate.

"What training?" Wanda perked up. 

“Fury wants Steve and I to train you guys, but I asked him for a few days so you can settle.” Natasha said. “Also you probably need new clothes and stuff.” 

“Yeah, well, we destroyed my home to save the world, after all.” 

Natasha sighed. She could feel all the mixed emotions in Wanda’s voice, and the worst part is that she was right. Of course, she would take the same decision over and over, but still. 

After they ate, Wanda helped them to clean everything and excused herself back to her room. Natasha watched as she disappeared through the halls, not sure what to do next. Should she go after Wanda and actually make her some company or it was better to leave her alone for a while? 

“So, I heard things were pretty rough for you guys there. Are you okay?” 

For a second Natasha nearly jumped, but then she remembered Sam was still in the kitchen. 

“Rough is an understatement but we’ll be okay.” 

“She can really enter our minds…” Sam gestured vaguely. 

“Yes, but I don’t think she’ll do this again unless it’s really needed.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I don’t know.” Natasha shrugged. “Maybe because I know what it is like to be in her position.”

“Fair enough.” Sam nodded. “Well, you should get some rest as well.”

“I will.” 

(...)  

Wanda closed the door behind her and let her body slide down to the ground. She pulled her legs up to her chest and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall down her face. Images of the last few hours played through her mind, over and over, as she tried to see what had gone wrong, how she could have let Pietro die, what she could have done, how she was all alone now; thrown into a country that wasn't hers, in a place surrounded by strangers. Strangers who she had hurt, in one way or another. Strangers who, despite having every right in the world, didn't seem angry with her.

Especially Natasha. She hadn't seen what memories it had awakened in her, when she entered her mind, but for some reason she didn't understand, Wanda could feel the weight of those memories, and she knew that it had affected Natasha deeply. 

She wanted to apologize to Natasha for that, but she had no idea how to do it, and even less if it would be well received, even though Natasha had been nothing but kind to her since the walk to the compound. Wanda closed her eyes tightly and leaned her head against the door. Tears rolled down her face and sobs made their way to her throat, making her whole body shake.

In the space of just over twenty-four hours, she and Pietro went from villains to heroes, and that was how he died, but that was far from easing the pain, anger and sense of uselessness she felt at that moment. She couldn't even kill the person responsible for his death, since both Ultron and Strucker were already dead.

Wanda wished she could let her powers flow through her body, like she had done in the church, in Sokovia, but that wasn't possible here. She dug her nails into the fabric of the sweatpants, trying to control her powers and tried to focus her thoughts on something else, because she knew that if she kept thinking about Pietro she wouldn't be able to control her powers for much longer.

A flash of red hair and green eyes shone in her mind and then the memories of her brother were slowly being replaced by Natasha; the fight in the church was something that, despite the chaos of the moment, impressed Wanda, because unlike most of them Natasha didn't have special powers, nor special suits, she only relied on her skills, but that didn't make her less than them. She was relentless, precise, strong, and she still managed to be effortlessly attractive. Wanda opened her eyes, shocked by her own thoughts.

During all the years serving Hydra and with her mind focused on her revenge against Stark, Wanda never bothered to think about any kind of relationship, never even entertained the idea of ​​getting involved with anyone, because honestly, who could she get involved with? Certainly not the men of Hydra. And among the citizens of Sokovia there was no one who really sparked her interest to the point of making her deviate from her target, from her revenge, but for some reason, ever since she had laid eyes on Natasha, that idea seemed to always be in the back of her mind, waiting to come to the surface.

"Wanda?" 

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts and she lifted her head, staring at the door. 

"Wanda, is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"I- I'm fine." She swallowed hard at the sound of Natasha's voice. "Why?"

"Nothing, just checking."

Wanda narrowed her eyes and her thoughts began to race through her mind. Had Natasha somehow felt her powers almost going out of control? Or had it been something else? Wanda hoped it wasn't either of those options, but if it had to be either, she prayed it was the former. She sighed heavily and got up from the floor, running a hand through her hair before opening the door. "I'm okay, see?"

She felt a chill run down her spine at Natasha's piercing gaze, at how her eyes slowly studied her; her face, her body. She knew Natasha was looking for any reaction from her that would indicate the opposite of what she had said, and Wanda was aware that she wasn't very good at hiding her feelings, but after a moment Natasha just nodded and her expression relaxed, giving way to a soft smile.

"Very well."

"Do you want to come in?" Wanda found herself saying.

Wanda felt her heart race when Natasha just arched her eyebrows and smiled, entering her room without saying anything. She waited, fidgeting with the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing, while Natasha also seemed to be searching for words. From what little she had seen of Natasha, she seemed confident and determined, but standing there in the middle of her room with her arms crossed over her chest and biting her lip, Wanda realized there was much more beneath her tough surface.

"I was thinking we could go shopping tomorrow," Natasha said after a while. "Buy clothes and shoes and whatever else you need."

"Sure, I guess."

"Great, we'll leave after breakfast then."

Natasha smiled, and even though it was a genuine smile, Wanda could tell she was nervous.

"Okay."

"I'll be going then." Natasha gestured vaguely.

"Sleep well, Natasha."

"You too, Wanda." She stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder. "If you need anything, just knock on my door."

"Thanks."

As soon as the door closed behind Natasha, Wanda walked to the window and sat on the edge. The large glass window offered a breathtaking view of the compound and the vast greenery around it. She had no idea where the place was, but the view offered a certain calm to her turbulent thoughts, even more so after Natasha's visit.

Wanda couldn't quite understand why they, especially Natasha, were being nice to her after everything that had happened. Sure, Clint had said that from the moment she walked out that door she would become one of them, an Avenger, but she wasn't sure if everyone agreed with that. Especially Tony or Bruce, who happened to be missing. Possibly because of what she had done to his mind. She had seen the destruction the Hulk had caused, and it had been her fault, Wanda was fully aware of that. She knew he hated her, and if she was honest with herself, she expected that feeling from all of them, especially Tony and Natasha, who after Bruce, seemed to have been the most affected by her powers.

But since she had stepped onto the S.H.I.E.L.D. ship, Natasha had been nothing but kind to her, staying by her side and offering silent comfort as she cried over Pietro's body. Wanda felt the hot tears running down her cheeks again and decided that maybe it would be best to try to sleep, to get some rest. The day had been too long and she was too confused and tired to really think about anything. She just wanted to let herself be swallowed up by the pain of her brother's death.

(...)

Natasha stretched, every part of her body aching from the recent battles they had fought. Fighting against super sophisticated robots sucked. She groaned and sat up in bed, reaching for the bedside table in search of some pain medication. After taking the medication, Natasha got up and headed to the bathroom. A hot, relaxing shower would help.

As the hot water jet relaxed her muscles, Natasha thought about the day ahead; breakfast, then taking Wanda shopping and taking the opportunity to grab something to eat. After that she really didn't know what to do, as they had nothing planned for the next few days since everyone agreed that both Wanda and them needed a break.

Maybe she should take the opportunity to show Wanda some sights? But what exactly if Natasha didn't even know what she liked? She shook her head and focused on finishing the shower before the hot water ran out.

"Good morning, boys." Natasha said as she entered the kitchen and came face to face with Steve and Sam.

"Good morning, Nat." They smiled broadly.

"Steve made breakfast."

"Then I better grab something to eat on the way." Natasha joked, accepting the plate of eggs and bacon that Sam was pushing toward her. "Did Wanda come down for breakfast yet?"

"I'm here."

Natasha turned around, smiling broadly at the sound of Wanda's voice. "Hey." She took the plate that Sam had slid toward her and handed it to Wanda.

"Are you guys going somewhere?" Steve asked, looking between the two of them.

"I'm taking Wanda shopping, she needs clothes, girly stuff. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, okay." Sam and Steve answered together and they laughed at their expressions of slight panic and embarrassment.

After breakfast, Wanda and Natasha went up to their rooms to get ready and met in the living room.

Natasha led them to the compound's vast garage and went straight to her favorite Corvette Stingray.

"Wow, that's-"

She turned with a mischievous smile at Wanda's surprised tone.

"You haven't seen anything yet, get in." Natasha winked and got in the driver's side.

Natasha sped up, showing off a little and laughing at Wanda's expression. They left the compound towards the city and in a short time they were in downtown New York. She knew the crowds there could be overwhelming, but it was also good for distracting, especially in Wanda's state. Natasha drove the car to a neighborhood that concentrated most of the stores with clothes in the style she thought Wanda would like, because from the little she had the chance to observe her, Natasha doubted she cared about designer labels and renowned brands.

She was pleased to see that she was right about that, and before long the two of them were carrying enough bags that they had to make a trip to the car. At first Wanda was reluctant to accept Natasha paying for everything, but with some talking she managed to convince Wanda.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving." Natasha said as they loaded the last few bags into the car.

"I never knew shopping could make you so hungry."

"Right?" Natasha smiled. "Come on, let's get something to eat."

(...)

When they arrived back at the compound, they went straight to Wanda's room.

"So, did you have fun today?"

Natasha asked as she placed the bags next to her bed, and despite her tiredness, Wanda definitely felt a little lighter. Natasha's company was better than she could have imagined.

"I had a lot of fun today. Thank you, Natasha."

"You're welcome."

Natasha winked playfully, or rather tried to, which caused Wanda to smile softly.

"I really mean it."

"I know."

Natasha's expression changed from playful to more serious, but it was still gentle and soft. Wanda felt her heart race at the understanding she saw in Natasha's gaze, and she really couldn't comprehend how that was possible.

"Hey, talk to me." 

Wanda felt like a thousand butterflies were flying inside her when Natasha took a step towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her voice was soft and concerned, as was her gaze, and it left Wanda dizzy. 

"I- I just- I don't understand why you, of all people, have been so kind to me." 

Natasha smiled, and shook her head slightly. Her red hair falling slightly into her eyes. "Remember what Clint told you? It doesn't matter what you did, or who you were." 

"Still." Wanda held her gaze. "I haven't seen the things I put you through, but I could feel the weight of the visions I caused you and it's overwhelming." 

"You're right, it is overwhelming, but I've dealt with it once and I'll deal with it again." Natasha said gently. "My past is ugly and red, for the most part, but I got a second chance when I met Clint. And although your powers have brought up memories I would rather have remained buried deep inside, I refuse to let it dominate me." 

Wanda wanted to ask, wanted to know about Natasha's past, the good and the bad. For some reason she didn't yet understand, she wanted to know every piece of that mysterious woman, but she knew it wasn't the time, and that if Natasha wanted, she would share of her own free will.

Natasha was so strong, so resilient. Wanda wanted to be a little like her, but most of the time she felt like she was drowning.

"How do you do it?" Wanda asked, her lips trembling slightly.

"How do I do what?" Natasha frowned.

"How do you stay so strong?"

Natasha chuckled and shook her head. "Do you think I'm strong?" Gently she took Wanda's hand and guided her to the edge of the bed. "I'm far from strong, but there are specific people I choose to show my vulnerability to."

Wanda nodded absently, too overwhelmed by all the things she was feeling at that moment. "Still, it's more than I can be right now," She said after a moment. "I feel like this wave washes over me, again and again. It knocks me down, and when I try to stand up, it just comes for me again and it’s just gonna drown me."

"Grief is a day-to-day process," Natasha said gently. "It's something that lasts a lifetime, I think." 

Wanda noticed Natasha's gaze grow distant, and she wondered who she had lost. 

"Grief, the worst of it, hits us when we least expect it. At first, we think that the loss of the person we love is something that will crush us, that pain in our chest, the feeling of numbness, the lack of will to do anything, but then all of that starts to become less and less and we move on with life. Until one day, something simple brings it all back, a thousand times worse." 

Natasha used the back of her free hand to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall, and Wanda wished she could do it for her. 

"The worst part of grief, of missing the person, is not the beginning. It's one day when you're doing something and you think 'he would like that.' or you see something on TV, hear a song, or anything really, and you immediately think of that person, you want to share it with them and they're not there. It never gets easier, but at least for me, grief comes from a place of love. It's a love that endures."

"You lost someone." 

Wanda found herself saying. It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Natasha looked at her for a moment before nodding. 

"I know how you feel, and that's why I want you to know that you're not alone, okay?" 

Wanda knew Natasha wouldn't go into details now, after all, they barely knew each other. She had been incredibly kind, but Wanda knew there were limits for now. And she was okay with that. 

"Thank you, Natasha." 

"Anytime." 

(...)

As the days went by, things started to fall into place and return to a sense of normalcy. The new members' training began, and it was going better than Steve or Natasha had expected.

At first, Wanda had a little difficulty with the physical part of the training, the hours in the gym doing exercises and physical fights - usually with Natasha - but in a few weeks she got the hang of it.

Little by little they started doing some simple missions to see how the new members were performing, how they controlled their abilities and everything else, and both Sam and Wanda were doing very well.

Tony hardly showed up at the compound, which was a relief for Wanda. Natasha taught her how to drive, in addition to the Avenger training, but she still didn't feel comfortable driving around.

Thanksgiving was celebrated simply, just Wanda, Natasha, and Steve at the compound, although Clint had insisted that they go to the farm. Sam had spent the holiday with his sister and nephews.

The week before Christmas, Natasha finally gave in to Clint's insistence and agreed to go to the farm. She had convinced Wanda to go with her, also at Clint's insistence, and since he didn't want her to be alone at the compound.

They stopped in town to buy Christmas presents for the Bartons and from there they left for the farm.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to spend Christmas with you guys?" Wanda asked again.

Nat smiled, glancing sideways at her, not really taking her eyes off the road. She could feel the nervousness rolling off Wanda in waves.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Yeah, Clint's sure too."

"Okay." Wanda said absently, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt.

When Natasha parked near the main house, she barely had time to unbuckle her seatbelt before Lila was already running toward her, her small feet kicking up dirt and snow on the gravel path.

"Auntie Nat!" 

Without hesitation, Natasha swung open the door and stepped out, instantly lifting the little girl into her arms. Lila's small body melted against her, and Natasha couldn't help but smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Ouch, you've gotten big, kiddo."

Lila giggled and wrapped her arms around Natasha’s neck, her cheek against Natasha's. 

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at Wanda, who was still standing on the other side of the car, a little more reserved but watching them with a quiet smile. Natasha gave a subtle nod, inviting her closer. 

"Lila, this is my friend Wanda," Natasha said gently, keeping her hold on the girl. "Say 'hi' to Wanda."

Lila pulled back slightly, giving Wanda a curious look before offering a shy but warm smile. "Hi."

The greeting was simple, but there was an undeniable softness in Lila’s voice, like she instinctively knew Wanda was someone safe. 

"Hi, Lila." 

There was something almost maternal in the way she spoke to the little girl, a tenderness Natasha hadn’t quite expected, but welcomed.

Before Natasha could say anything else, Lila tucked her face into her neck, her small arms tightening around her. 

Natasha laughed quietly, and just then, a familiar voice broke through the moment. "Well, look who decided to show up!"

Natasha turned, smiling brightly at the sight of Laura standing on the porch with little Nathaniel in her arms, his eyes wide and curious as he stared at the newcomers. 

"Hey, Laura," Natasha grinned, shifting Lila just slightly so she could wave.

Laura’s grin was warm, and her eyes were sparking with amusement. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten the way out here."

"Never," Natasha replied, her smile softening as she looked at the family she'd come to care for so much. 

They approached the porch and Natasha set Lila down. Laura sent the little girl to get Clint and Cooper, who were in the barn tinkering with the old tractor.

Natasha wagged her fingers at Nathaniel, who immediately reached forward.

"Oh, look at you, all soft with kids. Who would have thought," Wanda said, but there was no malice in her voice, just genuine surprise.

Natasha felt her cheeks immediately flush. Even though she and Wanda had grown quite close since the events in Sokovia, this was the first time she had seen her outside the compound, so carefree and somehow vulnerable.

Natasha had told Wanda bits and pieces about her bond with Clint’s family, about the kids, but this was the first time Wanda had witnessed it firsthand. The surprise was there, quiet but clear.

"Oh, Nat here is such a softie," Laura teased.

Natasha lifted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she shot Laura a look. "Traitor," she muttered under her breath.

Laura just grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. "What? It's true."

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth curled up despite herself. She’d always tried to keep her distance, maintain the tough exterior, but the Barton’s were more her family than she would ever admit out loud because saying it out loud would make it real and she couldn’t afford to lose another family. 

Natasha met Wanda’s gaze, and held it for a moment. The way Wanda was looking at her made her feel things she never thought possible. Not with her past. She heard Lila’s and Cooper laughter as they approached them and this seemed to break the moment between them. 

“I have my moments,” Natasha said with a small, playful smile.

"Nat! Wanda!"

Clint's voice made them turn and Natasha smiled widely. His eyes were shining with mischief and he glanced between her and Wanda with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk. She narrowed her eyes at him, but Clint didn't even flinch.

"I'm glad you decided to join us." He hugged her tightly, and then hugged Wanda. "Let's go inside, it's getting cold fast."

Natasha smiled, feeling her heart warm at the ease of Clint's relationship with Wanda. It was as if he had taken on the role of big brother, mentor, or whatever it was he did, and it worked well. She noticed how the tension was slowly leaving Wanda's shoulders.

The inside of the house was warm and inviting; the fireplace was lit and there were a few toys scattered on the floor, papers and crayons spread out on the coffee table, a bottle, a baby blanket, and some half-eaten gingerbread cookies on a plate.

As they stepped inside, the warmth of the Barton’s home wrapped around Natasha and Wanda, bringing with it the scent of wood smoke, fresh pine, and something cinnamon-sweet baking in the kitchen. Wanda glanced around, a quiet curiosity softening her usual guarded expression. It was a side of her Natasha rarely saw; calm, open, almost like she was letting her guard down bit by bit.

Natasha caught her gaze lingering on the family photos lining the walls. Each picture told a story: Clint and Laura on their wedding day, Clint and Cooper covered in mud from some backyard project, Lila in a princess dress with a bright, toothy smile. Natasha nudged Wanda gently, pulling her out of her trance. 

“Welcome to the chaos,” Natasha murmured with a soft smirk.

Wanda’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes still tracing over the photographs. “It’s…nice. Feels like home.”

Before Natasha could say anything, Clint reappeared with Cooper and Lila racing behind him, already caught up in some sibling rivalry and ran towards the kitchen, returning a second later. Cooper was carrying two mugs of hot chocolate, which Natasha was pretty sure Laura had spiked with vodka or whiskey. 

"Mom said to give them to you guys, it'll help ward off the cold."

"She said, huh?" Natasha accepted the mugs and handed one to Wanda.

She ruffled Cooper's hair and he clung to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Natasha's smile softened and widened, and her gaze met Laura's over the boy's head. "Thanks." She lifted the mug slightly to Laura, who did the same from the kitchen.

Cooper beamed, his cheeks flushing slightly. Lila, never one to be outdone, immediately tugged at Natasha’s sleeve. “Auntie Nat, we made cookies for you!” She pointed proudly toward the kitchen, where Laura was pulling a fresh tray from the oven, the scent filling the entire room.

“Oh, you did, huh?” Lila nodded enthusiastically, running back into the kitchen and rocking back on her heels as Laura placed the cookies on a plate.

Clint appeared beside them, smiling proudly as he watched his children. He looked from Natasha to Wanda and smirked. 

“Think you can handle that, Maximoff?”

Natasha snorted, a rare, carefree sound that seemed to make Wanda’s eyes brighten with curiosity, as if she wanted to hear it again and it made her heart skip some beats. Clint took that as his cue to clap his hands and rally everyone. 

"Alright, alright, movie time! We need your votes: are we going classic Christmas, or one of those superhero movies Cooper keeps insisting are 'totally holiday-appropriate'?"

Natasha laughed, shaking her head. "Classic, definitely. I think we've all seen enough superheroes for now." There was a flicker of amusement on Wanda's face, something Natasha rarely saw.

The group made their way to the living room, where Laura had already transformed the space with blankets and pillows spread across couches and the floor. Lila made a beeline for Natasha, curling up beside her and resting her head on Natasha's shoulder as they settled in. Meanwhile, Cooper took the seat next to Wanda, stealing occasional glances her way as if she were something magical and rare and Natasha couldn't help but smile. 

Once the movie started, the room grew quiet, the atmosphere softened by the flickering firelight and the comforting sounds of popcorn crunching. Wanda, sitting beside Natasha, seemed to lose some of her usual guarded tension, taking in the warmth of the room and this feeling of belonging that wrapped around them. Natasha felt Wanda’s shoulder brush hers lightly, the simple touch filling the space with an unexpected sense of peace that lingered between them as they watched the screen together.

(...)

The morning broke crisp and bright, sunlight gleaming off the fresh layer of snow that blanketed the Barton farm. Natasha was savoring her first sip of coffee when Lila and Cooper burst into the kitchen, voices ringing with excitement.

"Auntie Nat! Wanda! It snowed!" Lila squealed, her eyes wide with delight.

Natasha barely had a chance to respond before Cooper tugged on her sleeve. "You have to come out with us! It's perfect for sledding, or snowball fights, or building snow forts!"

Natasha opened her mouth, but Lila had already grabbed Wanda's hand, pulling her toward the door. "You can't say no. It's a rule!" 

Wanda cast a helpless, amused glance at Natasha, wrapped up in Lila's enthusiasm. Natasha rolled her eyes, smothering a smile. "Alright, alright. Just bundle up. It's freezing out there."

Soon enough, they were trudging through the snow, boots crunching over the fresh powder as Cooper and Lila ran ahead, their laughter echoing across the fields. Natasha watched them, taking in the simple joy on their faces as they dashed ahead, caught up in the magic of the snowy morning.

Cooper sprinted ahead, immediately scooping up snow and forming snowballs in his gloved hands, while Wanda knelt down to help Lila pack the snow. Natasha noticed the way Wanda's face softened, absorbed in the task, her gloved fingers shaping smooth snowballs with surprising concentration. It wasn't often that Wanda allowed herself to let go like this, and Natasha couldn’t help but smile as she watched her friend so fully in the moment, mirroring Lila's delight.

"Nat!" Cooper called, pulling her from her thoughts. 

His mischievous grin was a warning she caught just a second too late as a snowball flew through the air, hitting her square on the shoulder. Shaking her head with a chuckle, Natasha crouched down to form her own snowball.

"Oh, you're in for it now, Barton!" she called, tossing a snowball that landed perfectly on Cooper's back. He laughed, dodging behind a tree for cover, the game fully underway.

Natasha caught a glimpse of Wanda watching them, her eyes bright as she observed Natasha's rare carefree moment with the kids. Wanda's gaze held something soft and warm, an expression that Natasha couldn't help but feel a hint of pride in causing.

A small tug on her sleeve brought Natasha's focus to Lila, whose hands were attempting to form a snowball, her face lit up with mischief. Natasha smirked, joining in the playful plotting as she began packing another snowball, catching sight of Wanda doing the same. 

Natasha's gaze sharpened the moment she noticed Wanda's smirk and the playful glint in her eye. Wanda narrowed her focus on Natasha, packing the snowball deliberately, and a thrill ran through Natasha, settling as a faint, unexpected chill down her spine. Her usual poise wavered, replaced by a surprising spark of anticipation at Wanda's challenge.

"Don't even think about it, Maximoff," Natasha warned, raising an eyebrow and taking a cautious step back, though she found herself almost wanting Wanda to ignore the warning.

"Oh, I'm thinking about it," Wanda replied, her smirk deepening. 

Before Natasha could fully prepare, the snowball was already flying toward her, hitting her shoulder in a burst of cold powder that scattered through the air. Natasha laughed, a touch breathless, her heart pounding with the exhilaration of the moment.

For a second, she caught Wanda's gaze and felt her stomach flip. The teasing glint in her eyes felt like something more, something that Natasha didn't often feel; the thrill of letting her guard down, of giving in with someone she trusted.

Natasha laughed, and before Wanda could blink, she scooped up her own handful of snow, sending it flying in a perfect arc that landed squarely on Wanda's chest. 

Wanda's laughter rang out across the open field, a sound so pure and unrestrained that Natasha felt herself pause, caught up in the warmth of it. A smile crept onto her face as she watched Wanda, taking in the sparkle of her eyes and the rare openness of her expression.

"Is that all you've got, Romanoff?" Wanda challenged, shaking the snow from her jacket and stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Natasha grinned, feeling her competitive side flare. "You really don't want to start a snow war with a spy."

"Oh?" Wanda arched an eyebrow, her smile widening, clearly calling Natasha's bluff. 

That spark of challenge between them sent a thrill through Natasha, and she barely had time to react before they were fully immersed in a whirlwind of snowballs, laughter, and scrambling feet as they dodged and ducked around trees and snow piles. 

Lila and Cooper joined in, adding to the chaos, and Natasha found herself caught off-guard more than once by their surprisingly accurate snow missiles. Somewhere in the madness, Cooper slipped, tumbling into the snow and sending Natasha down with him in a playful heap. She barely had time to process it before Wanda rushed over, laughter bubbling up as she offered her hand to Natasha only for Natasha to grin mischievously and pull Wanda down beside her, both of them collapsing into the snow with laughter echoing around them.

After a while, breathless and cheeks tinged pink from the cold, they lay back in the snow, gazing up at the pale blue sky as they caught their breath. Natasha listened to the sound of Wanda's breathing beside her, feeling strangely at ease. She glanced over, taking in the peaceful expression on Wanda's face, her closed eyes and faint smile.

"I think they wore us out," Natasha murmured, an amused warmth in her voice.

Wanda's smile grew, her eyes still closed. "I think I'll let them take the blame," she replied softly, her voice carrying a note of contentment that Natasha couldn't remember hearing before.

Lila and Cooper shared a victorious grin, scrambling to their feet and running toward the house with eager cries of "Hot chocolate time!" Lila shot, already halfway to the door.

As Natasha and Wanda got up, brushing the snow from their coats, Natasha noticed the way Wanda's gaze lingered on her, her eyes shining with a rare, easy happiness. She looked back at Wanda, feeling a strange but undeniable closeness.

"Thanks for indulging them," Natasha said, her voice warm and genuine. "It's been… nice, seeing you like this."

Wanda's smile softened, her eyes meeting Natasha's for a long moment. "I think it's been nice for me, too."

They walked back to the house together, snow clinging to their coats and boots, the quiet warmth of the moment stretching between them.

As they stepped into the living room, Laura took one look at them and shook her head with a knowing smile. "Alright, go take a hot shower and change your clothes. All of you," she added, giving both Natasha and Wanda a firm look.

They followed the kids upstairs, exchanging a bemused glance as they headed to freshen up. By the time they gathered in the kitchen, Laura had laid out steaming mugs of hot cocoa with fluffy marshmallows on top, the room warmed by the crackling fire.

As the afternoon slipped into evening, Clint suggested a round of Christmas movies, and soon the living room was bathed in the soft glow of twinkling lights and the warm flicker of the fire. Natasha settled in, feeling Wanda close beside her, sharing this quiet, festive peace as the day faded into a cozy night.

(...)

Wanda settled in next to Natasha on the couch, her side pressed warmly against Natasha's. Cooper snuggled up on Natasha's other side, while Lila, still a bit drowsy from the day's excitement, climbed onto Natasha's lap, wrapping herself up in her arms with a soft yawn. Wanda watched, her gaze softening at the sight. There was a gentleness in Natasha's movements, a tenderness Wanda rarely saw so openly, one that seemed to emerge only with this family. 

On the other couch, Laura and Clint shared a quiet moment, with the baby nestled between them. Wanda's attention, however, remained fixed on Natasha. She felt something warm and deeply tender as she watched Natasha gently run her hand through Lila's hair, soothing her with a care that felt uncharacteristic but entirely genuine. It was as if each touch allowed Natasha to step into a peace that Wanda knew was rarely hers. 

After a moment, Wanda leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. "You’re good with her, you know."

Natasha glanced over, caught off guard but pleased by the comment. "I guess she brings out a different side of me."

Wanda smiled, her expression gentle. "I think it's just you. The real you."

Natasha didn't respond with words, but the way her eyes held Wanda’s gaze for an extra beat was more than enough. It was a vulnerable silence that said everything, and when Natasha finally looked away, Wanda felt a pang of both gratitude and sadness. She realized how much Natasha kept hidden, even from herself.

As the movie played, Wanda's attention drifted, returning again and again to the sight of Natasha with Lila asleep in her lap. She saw something rare there, a quiet hope in Natasha's eyes, a contentment that was so precious it took Wanda's breath away. Wanda's heart raced as unexpected thoughts of a family - a real, lasting family - entered her mind, not just for herself, but with Natasha.

Her chest tightened as she remembered a night at the compound, sitting out on the lawn with Natasha under the stars. Natasha had shared parts of herself that night, things Wanda hadn't known before. Stories of her childhood, of Yelena, her younger sister, who she hadn't seen in years; of a song that haunted her because of what it reminded her of; and of the cruelty of the Red Room that had stolen her chance to ever have biological children. Wanda knew she could never erase those scars or the memories Natasha carried. But she wished, with everything in her, that she could show Natasha that it was still possible to have a family - that maybe, together, they could build one.

(...) 

The next morning, Natasha was jolted awake by a small whirlwind named Lila, who came barreling into the room she was sharing with Wanda, flinging herself right onto Natasha’s bed.

“Ouch,” Natasha groaned, her voice still thick with sleep. She wrapped an arm around Lila, pulling her down beside her. “Too early, kiddo.”

“Auntie Nat, we’re going to make gingerbread houses!” Lila’s excitement was infectious, and her eyes sparkled with it.

“Oh, God.” Natasha muttered, suddenly recalling all of Clint’s endless Christmas traditions. She had almost forgotten how many they packed into the days before Christmas.

“Come on, Auntie Nat. Mommy’s waiting!” Lila urged, tugging at her arm insistently.

Natasha sighed and finally blinked her eyes open, realizing there was no way she’d be able to coax a few more minutes of sleep. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.” She pressed a quick kiss to Lila’s forehead before reluctantly getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom to wash up.

When she emerged, she noticed Lila had now cozied up in Wanda’s bed, eagerly chatting to her about gingerbread houses. Wanda’s gaze met Natasha’s, warm and amused, and Natasha offered a sheepish smile in return.

“Good morning, Nat,” Wanda greeted as she stood up and made her way to the bathroom.

“Morning.” Natasha felt her cheeks warm slightly. “Sorry about the... wake-up call,” she said, nodding toward Lila, who was watching them with open curiosity.

Wanda smiled, shrugging off the apology. “No problem.”

“Auntie Nat, come on!” Lila tugged insistently, and Natasha allowed herself to be pulled down the stairs toward the kitchen.

Once there, Laura greeted her with a guilty smile. “I swear I tried to hold her off for another hour.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Natasha assured her, stifling a yawn as she adjusted to the early hour.

“Here.” Clint appeared at her side, handing her a mug of steaming coffee. “Where’s Wanda? Still sleeping?”

“As if that was an option,” Natasha laughed, taking a grateful sip. She felt herself starting to wake up with each sip of the hot coffee.

A few minutes later, Wanda joined them, looking just as cozy and a little more awake. Natasha quickly poured her a mug of coffee, handing it to her with a smile. The kitchen was soon alive with the clattering of dishes and the laughter of kids, as they gathered the supplies to start their gingerbread creations.

While everyone else was busy assembling pieces and attempting not to eat half of the icing, Clint took charge of breakfast. The warm aroma of eggs, bacon, and pancakes mingled with the rich smell of coffee and fresh juice, filling the kitchen with a cozy warmth.

“Alright, construction break for breakfast!” Clint called, setting plates down and wiping his hands on a dish towel.

The kids practically inhaled the food, barely pausing to chew as they wolfed down their breakfast, eager to get back to their creations. Natasha exchanged an amused look with Laura as Clint went about clearing the table, and Laura quickly reset the gingerbread supplies so the kids could dive back in.

Natasha couldn’t help but glance at Wanda over the top of her coffee mug, catching her eye with a soft smile. It felt good to be here, in this warm little chaos, sharing these small moments - moments that felt almost like they belonged to a family. And as Wanda smiled back, Natasha felt a warmth that went deeper than the coffee she was holding.

Natasha and Wanda joined Laura and the kids at the table, where bowls of vibrant icing and candy decorations waited to be used. Natasha settled into the task, carefully piping a line of frosting along a gingerbread wall, but her attention kept drifting to Wanda, who was completely absorbed in her work. Wanda's brows furrowed in concentration as she placed gumdrops in precise rows, oblivious to everything else.

A small smirk tugged at Natasha’s lips. “You’re really into this,” she murmured, leaning in just enough to tease.

Wanda looked up, her cheeks instantly flushing, and Natasha's smirk softened into a grin.

After a while, the table became a delightful mess of scattered sugar, crumbs, and half-eaten gumdrops. Flour hung in the air like a soft cloud as the kids’ laughter echoed through the room. Lila proudly held up her sticky, icing-coated fingers, grinning from ear to ear. “Look, Auntie Nat! I made a mess!”

Natasha chuckled, gently ruffling Lila’s hair. “That’s the best part of it, kiddo.”

Laura’s laughter caught Natasha’s attention, and she glanced over, confused, only to see Laura motioning toward her own cheek. “Nat, you’ve got a little something…” Laura gestured vaguely at her own face.

Before Natasha could react, Wanda noticed it too and reached over instinctively, her thumb brushing softly against Natasha's cheek as she wiped the flour away. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary, and Natasha found herself frozen, her eyes meeting Wanda’s. Her gaze drifted to Wanda's lips, and for a moment, her breath stilled as they both seemed to forget the world around them.

“Uh… there,” Wanda murmured, her voice barely a whisper, her cheeks flushing as she finally pulled her hand away.

Just then, a shriek of laughter brought them back to reality. Natasha turned to see that Cooper and Lila had somehow managed to shower each other with a handful of flour, their hair now dusted white. Natasha let out a soft laugh, glancing back at Wanda with an amused smirk. “Looks like we’re going to have to clean up after these two troublemakers.”

“Oh, no, you two,” Laura cut in, her own laugh barely contained. “Clint, take your kids to the bath now. They’re done here.”

“Oh, so when they’re covered in flour, they’re my kids?” Clint shot back, shaking his head.

“Mom, we promise to behave!” Cooper added, pulling his best puppy-dog eyes.

Natasha chuckled as Laura shot her a knowing look. “I wonder who he learned that from,” Laura teased, aiming a pointed look at Natasha. “Alright, but if there’s one more mess, it’s over for both of you.”

Cooper and Lila exchanged triumphant high-fives and went back to decorating their gingerbread houses with renewed focus.

Laura shook her head, glancing at Clint. “Clint, dear, can you give Nathaniel his bottle?”

“On it.” He wiped his hands on his apron, going off to prepare the bottle.

The warmth of the moment lingered as they all continued decorating, laughter filling the air along with the sweet scent of gingerbread. Natasha couldn’t help but steal glances at Wanda every now and then, her heart softening at the way Wanda’s face lit up with laughter around the kids. For the first time in what felt like ages, Natasha felt… at peace. Something about this felt wonderfully right, and she couldn’t shake the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, she could belong have this too.

(...)

The rest of the day was peaceful, Cooper went to help Clint work on the tractor so he wouldn't end up getting into trouble because of the cold while Wanda and Natasha were dragged to the living room by Lila.

The little girl handed them some sheets of paper, colored pencils and crayons and with a pointed look indicated that they should sit next to her to draw.

Laura joined them soon after, gently rocking Nathaniel to sleep.

The hours passed quickly and in the early evening they sat at the table for dinner. Then, as in the previous days, they gathered in the living room for another classic Christmas movie.

Clint helped Laura carry the bowls of popcorn, mugs of hot chocolate and cider into the living room while Natasha and Wanda helped Lila and Cooper get the room just the way they liked it.

Cooper slurped his hot cocoa loudly, prompting a chorus of giggles from Lila and a roll of Clint's eyes. "Seriously, kid, where are your manners?"

"I learned them from you," Cooper shot back with a grin.

Wanda chuckled, her eyes meeting Natasha's for a second. She felt her heart race and her stomach felt like as if there was butterflies inside. She hadn't realized just how much she missed this feeling; being part of something whole, something good. She was so lost in thought that she nearly missed it when Natasha squeezed her hand, the smallest reassurance, and her eyes met Natasha's, catching that familiar glint of mischief in her gaze.

"Want to help me with a refill?" Natasha whispered, giving Wanda's hand a gentle tug as she rose.

"Sure." Wanda followed her into the kitchen, away from the cozy chaos of the living room. 

Once they were out of earshot, Natasha leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Are you okay? I thought you were a little overwhelmed just now." She said, her eyes studying Wanda with concern.

"I'm fine, Nat. Thanks for caring tho."

"Really? We can call it a night and go to the bedroom if you want."

"I do feel overwhelmed sometimes, yes, but in a... good way, I guess."

"Okay, let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

"Alright." 

Natasha held Wanda's gaze for longer than necessary.

"Is it weird that I never expected you to be so…" Wanda searched for the right word, one that would capture the side of Natasha she'd been witnessing those past days; soft, unguarded, even playful.

"Human?" Natasha offered, her smile crooked, playful but with an edge of vulnerability.

"Real," Wanda corrected softly. "I mean, ever since I arrived at the compound you've been amazing to me, always around, worried about me, and you've shared more things with me than I ever thought possible, but at the same time you've always remained a little distant, reserved. It’s nice to see this side of you."

Natasha felt her smirk dissolve into something softer, her expression turning reflective as she glanced down, weighing her words. “I didn’t think you’d want to see this side of me.” Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet, a hint of uncertainty in it, as if she wasn’t used to admitting something so vulnerable aloud.

Wanda took a small step closer, and Natasha noticed the way her gaze softened, her own walls beginning to crumble. “Actually,” Wanda murmured, her voice steady yet gentle, “I think this is exactly what I needed to see.”

Natasha held Wanda’s gaze, feeling a tangible connection that had simmered for too long, something raw and undeniable surfacing between them. Away from missions and façades, it felt real here. For once, there was no armor, just them. The sounds of laughter drifting in from the living room barely registered in her mind; she wasn’t ready to let go of this moment yet.

She let out a soft laugh, one that felt vulnerable even to her own ears. “This might sound ridiculous, but… thanks for being here. I didn’t know if you’d actually come.”

“I almost didn’t,” Wanda admitted, her voice just above a whisper, an honest softness in her eyes. “But I’m glad I did.”

They stood there in the silence that followed, Natasha unable to resist lifting her hand to brush a loose strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear. The gesture was gentle, lingering in a way she hadn’t anticipated, as if savoring the tenderness of the moment. Her pulse raced at the touch, especially when Wanda’s eyes widened slightly, and Natasha felt a warmth spreading in her chest that had nothing to do with the cider.

But the spell was broken when the kitchen door swung open, and Clint waltzed in, oblivious to the tension he’d interrupted. “Hey, you two, you’re missing the best part! Santa’s about to-” He stopped mid-sentence, glancing between them and scratching his chin. “Am I… interrupting something?”

Natasha cleared her throat, quickly dropping her hand, her laugh coming out just a bit too casual. “Nope, just… catching up.”

Wanda looked away, her cheeks flushed, clearly trying to hide the faint blush creeping up. Clint just grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Alright, then. Don’t take too long; we’ve got more popcorn waiting.” With a wink, he disappeared back into the living room.

Natasha huffed, shaking her head as she muttered, “He’s like a big kid sometimes.”

They filled their mugs with fresh cider and made their way back to the others. When they settled back onto the couch, Natasha found herself instinctively draping her arm over the back of the couch, her hand resting just behind Wanda’s shoulders—a gesture that felt casual, but in truth held an unspoken promise of protectiveness. Wanda leaned back slightly, just close enough that Natasha could feel her warmth, her pulse quickening at the sensation, and for once, Natasha let herself enjoy the comfort of their closeness.

As the movie drew to a close, Natasha watched as Laura smoothly began herding the kids toward bed, Lila putting up a sleepy protest. Natasha leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss on Lila’s forehead and speaking softly, “I’ll be here in the morning, okay? Go get some sleep.”

Once the kids were tucked in, Clint and Laura returned to the living room with the kind of satisfied sighs that come with a quiet, winding-down evening. The room had dimmed, leaving only the soft golden glow of the fire casting shadows across their faces.

“How’s training been, Wanda?” Laura asked, curiosity evident in her tone as she wrapped her hands around her mug. “Nat’s been saying you’re really getting the hang of things.”

Natasha felt warmth in her chest as Wanda glanced over at her, a little shy, as though gauging her reaction. “It’s… intense, but in a good way, I think,” Wanda replied thoughtfully. “I’m learning more about focus, and it’s been helping a lot.”

Natasha couldn’t hold back, giving Wanda’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “She’s being modest,” she chimed in, pride evident in her voice. “You’ve come a long way. Pretty soon, you’ll have Rogers eating your dust.”

Clint raised an eyebrow, looking impressed. “Really? That’s high praise coming from Romanoff.” He nodded at Wanda, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess you’re tougher than you look, huh?”

Natasha watched Wanda chuckle, a quiet warmth filling her gaze as she took in Natasha’s words. “I have a good teacher. Besides, it’s nice to have something to work toward. Keeps me grounded,” she said with a confidence that had been growing steadily over the past weeks.

Laura’s expression softened as she looked at Wanda. “Well, it’s good to hear. And I have to say, you’ve seemed so much happier lately. I’d say it’s working for you.” She winked at Wanda before her gaze drifted to Natasha, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “I think Nat might have a little something to do with that too.”

Natasha could feel a slight blush warming her cheeks, but she rolled her eyes playfully. “Let’s not give me too much credit. Wanda’s the one putting in the work. I’m just… there when she needs a little push.”

“Oh, you’re there alright,” Clint teased, his eyes glinting with amusement as he shared a look with Laura. “Can’t say I’ve seen you this dedicated to ‘pushing’ someone, Nat.”

Natasha chuckled, relaxing into the gentle teasing as Wanda turned to her with a playful glint in her eyes. “To be fair, you’re a pretty great ‘pusher,’” Wanda teased, nudging Natasha’s shoulder lightly.

“Well,” Natasha replied, letting out a soft laugh, “if I’m going to be a pusher, might as well be the best, right?” She held Wanda’s gaze, her smile turning softer, her voice lowering. “But you make it easy.”

The glow of the fire reflected in Wanda’s eyes, and Natasha found herself lost in their warmth until Clint cleared his throat with exaggerated volume. “Alright, lovebirds,” he said, grinning. “Are we just going to sit here staring into each other’s eyes, or can I get someone to help me with the marshmallows for s’mores?”

Laura laughed, swatting him playfully. “Way to kill the vibe, Clint. But yes, let’s do s’mores.”

Natasha watched Wanda grin as she rose, her eyes dancing. “I’ll help you grab the marshmallows, Clint. Natasha, you coming?”

Natasha leaned back against the couch, smirking up at Wanda with an affectionate, mischievous smile. “I’ll be right here, keeping your seat warm. Don’t take too long.”

She caught the slight flush of Wanda’s cheeks and the smile they shared before Wanda headed to the kitchen with Clint, their laughter trailing into the next room. Natasha couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in her chest at the sound.

Laura shook her head, a fond smile on her face as she watched them go before she turned to Natasha, eyes full of quiet understanding. “You know,” she began softly, “you and Wanda… you make sense together.”

Natasha felt her breath hitch, her gaze drifting to the kitchen where Wanda’s laughter still echoed. “We’re not… we’re not—”

“Nat,” Laura said gently, “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. But I’ve seen the way you look at each other. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone.”

Natasha swallowed, feeling a confession clawing its way to the surface, something she’d tried to suppress. “It’s stupid, Laura. Letting my guard down like this… but I can’t help it with her.”

Laura’s voice was soft, reassuring. “It’s not stupid, Nat.”

“But you know my past.” Natasha’s voice was barely a whisper. “There’s no way I could ever have something… normal.”

“Good thing Wanda’s far from normal, isn’t she?” Laura said with a gentle smile, her eyes warm with understanding.

Natasha shook her head, her voice strained. “It wouldn’t work.”

Laura sighed, giving Natasha a knowing, patient look. “Just… think about it, okay?”

(...)

As the others drifted off to bed, Natasha stayed behind, lingering in the quiet with Wanda beside her. Their shoulders brushed as they sat on the couch, the firelight casting warm, flickering shadows over the room. Natasha could feel the heat radiating from Wanda’s hand, resting so close to hers, close enough that the small distance between them felt charged.

Without fully deciding to, Natasha found herself leaning closer. The weight of everything unspoken, everything she’d tried to ignore, pressed heavily on her chest. She could feel the warmth of Wanda’s presence, the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing.

"Wanda," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper, the word heavy with so much she didn’t know how to express. "You… you make me feel—" She faltered, uncertain. No words felt right, no way to truly say what was pounding in her chest.

But Wanda’s eyes softened, her gaze unwavering, silently urging Natasha to let down the last of her walls. It was an invitation, one that Natasha didn’t realize she’d been waiting for until she was already leaning in. Before doubt could take over, she closed the distance between them, her lips meeting Wanda’s in a gentle brush. But that initial softness, that tentative touch, was quickly replaced by a heat Natasha could no longer deny.

Wanda responded without hesitation, her hand sliding up to Natasha’s cheek, her thumb tracing a slow, steady path along her jaw. That small gesture undid her completely, and Natasha felt herself deepen the kiss, a barely controlled need taking over as their lips moved in sync, more intense, more consuming than she’d imagined. The fire crackled beside them, but it was nothing compared to the heat that spread through her body, lighting up every nerve, every cell.

It was everything Natasha had wanted and everything she’d been afraid of—a connection that was raw, fierce, and unguarded. Wanda’s hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, her fingers threading through Natasha’s hair, and the intensity of it, the sheer honesty of what she was feeling, made something inside Natasha twist.

Abruptly, she pulled back, breaking the kiss with a shuddering breath. She could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, her heart hammering against her ribcage, a familiar panic clawing its way to the surface. She felt like she was splintering apart, the weight of her past pressing down on her, reminding her of all the reasons she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be feeling this.

“Nat?” Wanda’s voice was soft, laced with concern and something deeper that Natasha wasn’t sure she could handle. That depth, that vulnerability, only made the fear sharper.

“I- I can’t,” Natasha managed, her voice shaky and barely audible. She pushed herself to her feet, running a hand through her hair in a desperate attempt to steady herself. She could feel everything slipping out of her control, every carefully built wall crumbling. The memories, the training, the missions - all the years she’d spent pushing people away came crashing back, louder and more insistent.

“I’m sorry, Wanda,” she said, each word a painful effort. “I don’t… I don’t do relationships.” Her voice broke, and she could feel the sting in her chest, the realization that she was hurting Wanda. But the fear was overwhelming, a tidal wave of everything she’d tried to bury for so long, and it left her no room to think, no space to breathe.

Without another word, Natasha turned and hurried to the door, her footsteps heavy in the silence of the house. She didn’t dare look back, didn’t want to see the hurt in Wanda’s eyes. All she could do was escape, feeling the memories clawing at her, threatening to pull her under as she stepped out into the cold night, her heart pounding and her mind reeling.

Just as Natasha’s fingers brushed her coat, Clint’s voice cut through her resolve. “Nat.”

She froze, feeling her heartbeat thundering in her chest. Clint stood in the doorway, his gaze unwavering, the look in his eyes both gentle and firm. 

“You’re really going to walk away from this?” he asked quietly, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight. He stepped closer, his face a mix of understanding and expectation. “You know, you’re not the only one with a past, Nat. Wanda’s been through hell too. But here she is, willing to take a chance on you.”

Natasha swallowed, her throat tight as she processed his words. “I don’t want to hurt her, Clint,” she whispered, her voice raw with honesty. “I don’t even know if I can be what she needs.”

Clint’s expression softened, his eyes full of warmth that only a best friend could carry. “You don’t have to be perfect, Nat. Wanda doesn’t need you to be anything other than yourself. And from where I’m standing, that’s more than enough.”

She looked down, her mind a storm of doubts, but Clint’s words seemed to ground her. She realized, with a painful clarity, that maybe - just maybe - she did deserve this. Deserved Wanda. Her jaw tightened as she absorbed his words, feeling memories surface in her mind, fragments of her past - years of survival, of running, of pushing everyone away so she wouldn’t have to face her own heartache. The idea that someone could see her past and still care for her, still want her, felt foreign, but here was Wanda, offering her something she hadn’t dared to hope for.

Clint’s hand settled on her shoulder, the weight both comforting and firm. “Talk to her,” he urged. “You don’t have to have all the answers. Just… talk to her.”

Natasha stood by the door, Clint’s words lingering in the quiet, a steadying force as she considered what she was about to leave behind. She had always run, always turned her back on anything that felt like home. But standing here, with Clint’s words echoing in her mind, she realized that running hadn’t kept her safe - it had only left her alone. Wanda had opened her heart to her, despite everything she’d been through, and it was courage Natasha hadn’t seen in anyone before. It was time, maybe, to stop letting her fear control her.

Taking a deep, unsteady breath, she let her hand fall away from her coat. Clint gave her an encouraging nod, the quiet support of a friend who had known her through it all. She nodded back, a silent acknowledgment, and without another word, turned toward the room she was sharing with Wanda, a newfound determination guiding her steps.

As Natasha approached the doorway, she found Wanda still there, her gaze fixed on the dimming embers of the fire, her expression difficult to read but so achingly familiar. The warm light danced across her face, illuminating that quiet strength, that gentleness that Natasha couldn’t resist.

“Wanda,” Natasha said softly, her voice raspy and filled with vulnerability she didn’t recognize.

Wanda turned, her eyes catching Natasha’s, reflecting both vulnerability and hope. It was a look Natasha had come to cherish, one that made her realize just how deeply she was in this. How far gone she was already.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I… I’ve spent so long keeping people at a distance. But you…” She swallowed, feeling her own defenses crack. “You’re the first person I can’t seem to push away, no matter how hard I try. And that scares me. Letting someone in like this… it’s not something I know how to do.”

Wanda took a step forward, closing the distance with that unwavering gaze. “Then don’t,” she murmured, her voice warm and soft, coaxing Natasha closer. “Let me in, Natasha. I know you’re scared, but I’m here. You’re not alone in this.” She raised a hand, cupping Natasha’s cheek, her touch featherlight but grounding.

The tenderness in Wanda’s eyes, in her touch, undid Natasha entirely. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, the walls she’d held for so long dissolving in the warmth of Wanda’s touch. Her fingers trembled as she reached up, holding Wanda’s hand as if it was the lifeline she hadn’t known she’d needed. “I’m scared, Wanda,” she admitted, her voice breaking, barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of letting myself love you, and even more of losing you. Everyone I let in either dies or disappears. I can’t…”

Wanda’s grip on her hand tightened, a quiet promise in that simple touch. “I’m not going anywhere.” Her thumb stroked softly over Natasha’s knuckles, grounding her. “You don’t have to be perfect, Nat. I don’t need you to be anything other than right here, with me.”

Natasha exhaled slowly, relief washing over her as her fingers laced through Wanda’s, feeling as if they’d always belonged there. “I’m done running,” she murmured, her voice quiet but resolute.

Their eyes met, and in that gaze, Natasha found all the courage she’d never been able to find within herself. Slowly, she leaned in, closing the distance, capturing Wanda’s lips in a kiss that held all her fears, all her hopes, and every unspoken promise between them. This kiss was different. It was deeper, free of hesitation, her emotions pouring into each movement, each second. Natasha’s hand found its way into Wanda’s hair, pulling her close, her need fierce, unapologetic. Wanda’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her in as if she, too, had been waiting for this, for them, for so long.

The kiss intensified, Natasha pouring herself into it, letting her guard drop completely, allowing herself to be vulnerable in Wanda’s arms. Her fingers twisted deeper into Wanda’s hair, and Wanda’s hand trailed up her arm, soft but firm, grounding her. Natasha felt as if she was coming alive, like every part of her had woken up, drawn into Wanda’s warmth, her steadiness. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads pressed together as they held each other close.

Natasha looked into Wanda’s eyes, her heart pounding, and saw the same fire, the same need that mirrored her own. Unable to resist, she cupped Wanda’s face, bringing her in for another kiss, more intense, almost desperate, as months of unspoken tension gave way. It was an ache she could feel in her chest, a need she hadn’t let herself feel for so long, and she surrendered to it completely.

As Natasha looked into Wanda’s eyes, she saw that same fire, that same unrestrained desire, mirroring her own. The weight of everything they'd held back, the longing, the fear, and the inevitability, all of it seemed to rise to the surface. Without a second thought, she pulled Wanda in, capturing her lips in a kiss that went beyond tenderness, beyond anything she had ever let herself feel.

This kiss was no longer tentative or questioning; it was a fierce, consuming need, her hands finding Wanda's waist and pulling her closer, as if she needed her as much as she needed air. Wanda responded in kind, her fingers slipping into Natasha's hair, tugging her closer as their lips moved together in perfect sync, every touch feeling like fire running through her veins, something primal. Natasha could feel her heart pounding and she was pretty sure Wanda could hear it too.

Their movements grew frantic, both of them losing themselves in the moment. Natasha could feel Wanda’s soft gasp against her lips as her hands roamed Wanda’s back, gripping the fabric of her shirt, anchoring herself in this moment. They stumbled slightly as they edged toward the bed, neither willing to break the kiss, not even for a second. Natasha barely registered the feel of the mattress at the back of her knees before they tumbled down together, Wanda's soft laugh breaking through, only for Natasha to capture it with another kiss, deeper, more unrestrained.

Their limbs tangled, hands exploring as they gave into the intensity they had held back for so long. Natasha ran her fingers through Wanda’s hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, feeling Wanda’s warmth, the way her body pressed against hers. She could feel Wanda’s heartbeat, as frantic as her own, their breaths mingling as they finally gave in, letting the world fall away.

Wanda's hands skimmed Natasha’s shoulders, tracing a path down her arms, her touch gentle but charged with electric energy, sending shivers through her. Natasha couldn’t hold back a soft, involuntary gasp as Wanda’s lips found her neck, trailing heat along her skin, igniting something deeper, hungrier. She pulled Wanda even closer, their bodies pressing together as they moved in sync, both of them surrendering completely to the moment, to each other, letting themselves finally fall into what had been waiting for so long. 

When they finally parted again, Natasha held Wanda close, her forehead resting against hers as she caught her breath. Wanda traced gentle, reassuring patterns along her arm, anchoring her.

“So…” Wanda whispered, her voice tinged with that same vulnerability Natasha knew was on her own. “We’re really doing this?”

Natasha nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she murmured, her voice shaky. “We’re doing this. I mean, unless you don’t want it, which is totally okay.”

“Natasha.” 

“Yes?” 

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

Natasha felt her heart race, every part of her body vibrating with the determination in Wanda's voice. In her entire life, it was the first time she had gone to bed with someone not because of some stupid mission, but because she really wanted to, because she felt something for the person who was with her at that moment. And that scared Natasha more than she could admit. She closed her eyes tightly, pushing those thoughts away and focusing on the feeling of Wanda's lips against hers, on the way her hands slid tentatively over her shoulders and arms until they reached her waist and even more tentatively, slid under her blouse, gently brushing her skin. 

Her touch was warm and intoxicating and Natasha couldn't contain a moan when Wanda's lips found the skin of her neck again, biting lightly. Her hips rocked involuntarily against Wanda's, who was sitting on her lap, one leg on either side of her. Natasha abandoned all caution at that moment and slid her hands under the sweater Wanda was wearing, lightly scratching her back. She smiled in satisfaction at the moan that escaped Wanda's lips and did it again, gasping when Wanda ground her hips against hers.

"Fuck." Natasha moaned as Wanda bit and then licked her pulse point.

"I think that's what we're about to do, huh?"

"Oh, God." Natasha felt her panties get even wetter at the sound of Wanda's voice, husky and full of desire.

"Wanda will be enough."

Natasha's eyes met Wanda's and in them was a silent plea. Nat nodded, and lifted herself just enough for Wanda to remove her shirt. She was always very confident about her body, but when she saw Wanda's gaze, so raw, so intense and filled with true desire mixed with something else, Natasha felt her cheeks burn.

"You're so beautiful." Wanda whispered and leaned in to kiss her again. 

Natasha moaned softly against Wanda's lips as her hands explored her exposed skin tentatively but determinedly. It was almost impossible to keep her moans down, but she knew they couldn't make too much noise, for the sake of the children in the same hallway as them. 

Natasha bit the back of her hand hard to suppress a moan as Wanda's lips reached her breast. She had never experienced anything like this, a desire so intense, so true, so raw. And she needed to feel Wanda's skin against hers.

Natasha slid her hands to the hem of Wanda's sweater and with a silent request removed the garment. She took a moment to appreciate Wanda's beauty, feeling her mouth water at the sight that graced her eyes. Tentatively she slid her hands down Wanda's belly to her breasts, squeezing gently.

A low moan escaped Wanda's lips, and Natasha rose, kissing her with a desire she never thought possible. With a quick movement Natasha reversed their position and wasted no time began to distribute kisses along Wanda's jaw and neck, until she reached her breasts.

"So beautiful." Natasha whispered and her eyes met Wanda's again, with another silent request.

When she nodded, Natasha got rid of their jeans, and along with them their panties, eliminating any barrier between them. They moaned into each other's lips as their bodies touched for the first time, hips rocking against each other in a desperate search for contact, for friction.

Natasha slid one leg between Wanda's and nearly came right then and there at how wet she was. "Fuck, Wands."

"I need-" Wanda swallowed, her hips jerking.

"What do you need?" Natasha teased, rocking her hips slowly against Wanda's wet pussy.

"I need you, Nat."

That was enough to get Natasha moving, another time she would tease Wanda to the limit, but she needed it just as much and didn't want to waste time with games. Hopefully they would have plenty of other opportunities for that.

Gently, Natasha slid a finger inside Wanda, both of them moaning at the sensation. She began to move her finger slowly, and when she felt that Wanda was comfortable enough, she slid another one in. A louder moan escaped Wanda's lips and Natasha swallowed it with a kiss.

She moaned against Wanda's lips when she felt her slide a finger inside her and Natasha never thought it was possible to feel so much pleasure. Not really, and it was embarrassing how close she was to cumming.

Soon they found the perfect rhythm and their moans were muffled by the intense kisses as their bodies moved in perfect synchrony. It didn't take long for them to cum together, and that was, without a doubt, one of the best sensations Natasha had ever felt in her life.

As they lay together, Natasha realized she had never felt so vulnerable yet so completely safe, wrapped in the warmth of Wanda's touch, her hands on her skin, her breath brushing softly against her neck. It was as if every unspoken fear, every moment of hesitation, had melted away, leaving only the trust and certainty that whatever happened, they were here, together, completely lost in each other.

And as the night stretched on, Natasha allowed herself to fully surrender to the moment, letting go of every doubt and opening herself to Wanda in a way she never had with anyone else, trusting her completely, feeling the depth of their connection, and knowing that this was exactly where she was meant to be.

In that small, fire-lit room, wrapped in Wanda’s arms, Natasha felt a warmth and belonging she hadn’t thought possible. The rest of the world faded away as she let herself be completely, irrevocably lost in Wanda.

[reborrowing]

skipping breakfast

if you give a mouse a cookie, he may still want to leave. (part of stranger swap, but stands on its own) contains: fear/PTSD flashback, misunderstandings, reference to past abuse

Hollow’s ears pricked at the muffled sound of a phone alarm. It was the right tone to be from this unit and loud enough that it probably was sounding from the next room over. He scowled, counting the days back in his head. He was still sure it was a Monday.

He hadn’t bothered to check for the host before setting out. In the six months since they’d moved in, they hadn’t once missed a day of work. He held his breath as the alarm looped and repeated itself in a louder cry—maybe they’d forgotten their phone? No. Another second passed, something heavy shifted in the other room, and the alarm went silent. Maybe they were sick.

Hollow decided he didn’t care. He just needed to stay out of sight, same as ever. 

There was no good way to get off this shelf in particular without roping into the open, but the display was a decent enough place to hide, however eerie it felt. The host here made and collected miniatures.

To Hollow, and any other borrowers lured in by the strange collection, it felt like an alleyway cut out of some alternate universe’s walls or maybe a series of theater stages.  The shelf was busy and strange enough that some came here even without any intention of borrowing, only to see the strange collection. The rooms were more exposed than any living space had any right to be with half the walls missing and the furniture was mostly too small to be used by an adult, but some things made more sense after seeing them as they were meant to be seen—the sheer monotony of their counters and furniture disappeared, if nothing else.

And there was plenty to take  for someone of Hollow’s mindset: piles of decorative items, wall hangings, cushions, occasional bit of dinnerware—all of it felt much nicer than the cheap plastic and cardboard pulled out of a child’s toy box. And Hollow found that the colony kids always liked the little clay foods, familiar ingredients made alien when portrayed as handheld objects. Most stuff in these shelves was pretty junk, essentially, not stuff anyone needed, but the host also kept nice fabrics and clay and other useful materials in their crafting cabinets. The apartment was a good unit to borrow from, when the host wasn’t home and thudding into the room.

Hollow ducked behind a wooden counter—one now missing a piece of its carefully arranged tea set—to get out of sight. He meant to stay there until the host settled down somewhere with something to hold their attention. He didn’t have a backup plan when they decided to pause in front of this particular display shelf.

Hollow shuddered. He hated borrowing when the host was home. He hated them, all of them. He wouldn’t have come here had he known the host was home. Had he left something out of place? Had they seen him? Had they already seen someone else borrowing from them? Did they know?

The shadow of the host’s reaching hand, even while it was still a foot away, sent him scrambling in the opposite direction, making them yelp. So she hadn’t actually noticed Hollow until he panicked. At least he could take advantage of the host’s surprise to bolt. His breath trembled in his throat. He was so intent on getting safe, he forgot where he was, just that he couldn't let her catch him because this time she’d kill him. He tore through one carefully placed scene and then another. He only stopped when he reached the end of the shelf and only to grab his line—the line that he’d left out on the other end of the shelf to allow for a quick escape. He inhaled sharply and considered the long drop in front of him. 

“Whoa, no, don’t—”

Hollow jumped.

The laminate floor was far enough to hurt, he knew, but he had plenty of practice being hurt. As long as he landed right, he ought to be able to roll under that chair before she could step on him at least. It would take the kid a few seconds to get her hands down to the floor and hopefully he’d be able to get some more distance between him and her before–

A mattress of flesh interrupted his fall. He stared up in horror at a stranger’s face and shook under the memory of a much angrier human’s glare. He couldn’t bring himself to move, even as he was probed by a thumb half as tall as he was. The meaty digit lingered on his right side and massaged the point where his arm ended and his prosthetic began. Hollow flinched in slow motion.

“Oh,” the host breathed with a convincingly sympathetic tone. “You’ve really been through it huh?”

With a shaky hand Hollow reached for the sewing pin on his back and wished he had worn his uglier prosthetic. It was awful and clunky, and not particularly helpful on a normal borrowing run, but he bet that pen knife sticking out of it would have been enough to make a human flinch. As soon as Hollow aimed his pin down at the palm that held him, another pair of fingers came out of nowhere to easily pull it away.

“Okay, no, no, please don’t make me drop you, okay? I’m really sorry if I’m scaring you, I’m trying to help,” the host said.

They gave him a pitying smile and Hollow scowled, looking away his tongue before the shadows could twist back into that girl and beat him. Each time Hollow tried moving towards the edge of the palm, the host tilted their hand or brought up their fingers to block him. After several attempts, he shuddered as one of the fingers landed against his chest and sat back down in the middle of the open palm. 

“I don’t want you to fall, little guy. Why don’t we go sit down at the counter? I was about to make breakfast,” the host said. The wall of their belly jerked with a brief laugh. “Well, I was going to see how that polish dried, but I’ll deal with that later. You steady?”

Hollow buried his head in his knees and tried unsuccessfully to pretend he was somewhere else. His stomach dropped as the hand swayed then bucked as his clawed toes reflexively clung to the moving floor.

The host exhaled sharply and cupped their hand to better secure him. Hollow shivered, his fur standing all on end as the flesh closed in around him, and braced to be crushed. The movement slowed and Hollow peeked out to watch the host grab one of the chairs from another display. One of his toys. Hollow was just another thing to be played with. 

“I’m Jude, by the way, he/him,” the host said.

There was a pause.

“You don’t talk much, huh? Can you at least understand me?”

Hollow nodded, still glaring down towards the floor. He wasn’t even sure if he could speak at the moment and he didn’t want to try. Borrowers didn’t speak to humans, as a rule, even when they did get caught. He’d done it when he thought he had had no choice and it hadn’t made things any easier.

“That’s good, I guess, so you at least know I’m friendly.” 

Hollow believed no such thing.

Jude stepped away from their miniature displays—away from the critical gear Hollow had left behind—and crossed the apartment to the kitchen. Hollow watched Jude’s feet shuffle across the carpet with a seething envy. It was such a quick trip this way, straight across the open room in just a few easy strides. Sometimes, he wished he had followed his mother to an outdoors life where he wouldn’t have to spend so much time in human spaces where he found himself comparing their lives to his own.

“Alright, I’ll set you down here, if that’s okay?”

Hollow would be okay being set down anywhere, even onto a heated burner, if it meant a chance to get away from the host’s sweaty fingers. But with nothing to say and the human staring down at him expectantly, he exhaled shakily and nodded.

The host’s fingers shifted beneath him and he slowly slid onto the blessedly solid countertop. He spun back around and craned his neck to watch the looming host. He didn’t want to look at Jude, didn’t like the overwhelming reminder of their difference in scale, but preferred it to facing his back to the giant.

“You’re still shaking. You really are afraid of me, huh? I'm sorry,” Jude said. “Here, why don’t you sit down?”

Hollow tensed as the host’s second hand stretched towards him. For a moment it was the girl’s hand again and a memory of pain flashed down his spine. His half-tail twitched and tucked against his leg as he backed away. Jude set the toy chair down beside him and withdrew. He stared suspiciously at the human’s toy couch. The back looked stiff and uncomfortable but otherwise sturdy.

“Yeah, there you go. Take a minute to breathe, it’s okay, no judgment,” Jude said.

He did as he was told but as soon as Jude’s back was turned, Hollow started looking for his escape route. There was a familiar outlet nearby, one that Hollow and every other working borrower in the colony used to get into this unit. He couldn’t be seen going out that way, not if anyone wanted to use it again. And it would be a shame to lose access to this apartment, this was such a good one to borrow from. He needed to get to the floor where he could escape unseen. The drop to the floor still didn’t scare him; a borrower could fall a long ways without getting hurt, but so long as Jude was watching, Hollow was stuck. He wouldn’t do anything that risked bringing that fucking hand back towards him.

The way Jude moved the world within the kitchen made Hollow too aware of how small he really was. The plastic vat of flour, the tower of baking powder, the door to the nigh-impenetrable refrigerator…in Hollow’s world, these things were all well-secured vaults that had to be broken into. It took time and a solid plan to retrieve the contents. Jude did so instantaneously, talking the whole time, and in nearly unthinkable quantities.

No matter how many times he had been here, this was not Hollow’s world.

He sat quietly on the toy couch until the quiet got too loud and the host turned to look at him. He realized suddenly that the host had stopped talking and that the words had probably been for him and he really should have made an effort to listen. He could feel the expectation that Hollow should do something in those big eyes and he tensed, waiting for the girl to lunge forward to hurt him, or maybe this time she’d hurt…

Hollow grit his teeth. He was alone. With Jude. Who was, so. far, significantly less hostile than the girl or any other human he’d encountered. He could try to get along until he could get away. Maybe some of them were capable of mercy, or at least some patience.

He doubted it.

- Jude was already awake and out of bed by the time he registered that he had the day off and he’d just forgotten to turn off his stupid alarm. He looked back at the blankets but knew the chances of him falling back to sleep now were slim to none. He may as well take advantage of a few extra morning hours on his extra day, not that he had any plans. It was just nice to not have to rush out and deal with a parade of impatient strangers.

He stretched lazily and made his way to the front room. Sun filtered through the curtain and caught a cloud of dust particles dancing in the light. If Jude were a slightly more meticulous person he might spend the day tidying his place but already his thoughts had started to wander to what he might be able to craft or at least get started on before the day’s end. He’d finished his last project the previous night so could work on just about anything without stressing over anything in-progress.

At least, he hoped he had finished the project. He could check on it now that it had had time to dry. The pieces would be done one way or the other, but there was a decent chance he’d ruined them instead of finished them by using some questionable varnish. It was all he had had on hand and at 3am with nothing open but Amazon it had seemed like a good idea to risk it instead of waiting.

A shadow on the shelf shifted when he went to check and Jude screamed, embarrassed as soon as the sound left his mouth. Then came the second wave of embarrassment at being so self-consciousness when nothing was here to watch him but a few sculpted figures and their shadows.

His eyes caught back up with the movement and he realized that it hadn’t been a trick of the light. It’s just a figurine falling over, he thought at first, then, oh no, mouse? as it scrambled across the shelf. Jude shook his head as his mind caught up with his eyes. It was a tiny person, slightly larger than any of Jude’s figurines, and they were very much alive. He wasn’t alone at all and for a moment he was dumbstruck.

He’d always wanted fairies to be real. It was why he had started making miniatures and dollhouse furniture way back when he was a little girl and had persisted into his adulthood. And now, here one was, apparently enticed by Jude’s own handiwork. He had to bite back giddy laughter, lest his little guest think he was being laughed at. The poor thing looked nervous enough as it was.

Terrified even, he realized as he leaned forward for a closer look. But not scared enough to try to jump from up there, right?

Right???

Wrong.

Jude was too slow to stop him, but thankfully quick enough to catch him. He gasped as he landed in his hand. Jude didn’t know why he would expect otherwise, but the intruder was so light—about as substantial as the mouse he’d first been mistaken for. Jude pulled his hand in close to better keep steady as he looked. him over.

He wasn’t quite a fairy, at least not how most people would think of them. His guest had no wings or glitter and was far too grim to be made of light or children’s laughter. He didn’t seem bloodthirsty enough to be the other type of fairy either. He was …just a little guy, and not a very lucky one by the looks of him. He was dressed in rags and missing his arm and most of an ear. His tail looked like the end was scarred and withered; Jude suspected he’d lost the rest of that too.

The little guy’s eyes watered like he was about to cry and Jude did his best to soothe his fears. God, he was a pretty thing. Jude had spent a lot of time admiring the details of miniature things, but the little intruder was unbelievably exquisite: a masterpiece that only nature could craft. Jude was flattered that the little guy would be interested in his clumsy work at all.

He was determined to give the little guy a proper thanks before parting ways. Maybe if it went well enough, it would convince him to stay for awhile. Maybe even stick around as friends? Jude could hope. In any case, he thought pancakes and a comfortable seat would be a good start.

He did his best to move slowly and carefully as he prepped the kitchen, making sure to give the little guy as much space as he could. He wished he knew what to say to help the poor thing understand he wasn’t in any danger here. Everything Jude did only made him tremble more. Maybe just sitting there with a little cap full of cool water for a few minutes would let his panic wind down.

But as he mixed the batter Jude started to worry it wasn’t or that he was failing as a host in some other way. Had he missed some nicety the little guy expected or broken some unknown rule? No touching, maybe, but he’d already put him down. Were pancakes a bad choice? He’d given Jude a quick glance at his teeth and they had looked pretty sharp, maybe Jude’s vegan pantry was no more appealing to the little guy than the sculpted fruits on the shelf.

“You can eat this, right? Or maybe I shouldn’t assume? I could do something else or even run to the store if there’s not anything in my kitchen that looks like a proper meal to you? Is there something else you’d normally eat?”

Jude looked over to his guest for an answer and got only a slight shudder and a blank stare. A second passed and it was like the little guy saw a ghost. He paled and shrank back into the couch, mouthing something beyond Jude’s perception. It was all Jude could do not to reach out to try and physically reassure him—something that could only make things worse at this point.

“That’s, aw, you’re just too quiet, huh? Um, maybe just nod or shake your head? Do you eat pancakes? Or want to, at least?”

The little guy took a breath of relief and nodded hastily, shoulders easing back down when Jude smiled at him.

Jude turned his attention back to his cooking, neatly pouring out the batter. His heart skipped with delight as he doled out a few bite-sized drops for his guest. Pancakes made it easy to offer up a miniature serving alongside his own breakfast and the stack looked perfectly adorable on the coin-sized plate he’d pulled off of his display. Evidently the meal looked good to the the little guy as well, as he was willing to lean forward to grab it off of Jude’s finger. He snatched it away with his one hand, letting the tiny fork slip down onto the countertop, and flinched back into the couch.

“Can you…should I grab you a table as well? I wasn’t thinking about how you’d hold it” Jude said.

He shook his head without looking up. Jude watched with eager eyes as the little guy shifted slightly in his seat and the clasp at the end of his prosthetic opened then pinched closed, catching the edge of his plate to keep it steady in his lap and freeing up his hand.

“That’s so cool, did you make that yourself?”

The little guy glanced at his prosthetic and, if only for a brief second, a proud smile flickered across his face. Then he nodded and hid the expression by stuffing half a pancake into his mouth.

“I’ve got syrup, you don’t have to eat that plain, if you don’t want,” Jude offered.

His guest watched him suspiciously but his eyes widened and he nodded when he recognized the bottle of syrup that Jude retrieved. He poured a bit into the lid—he’d just have to clean it up later—and slid it across the counter to his wary guest, who eagerly sopped up as much as he could from the cap once he was sure he had his space back. And when he ran out of pancake, he scooped out an extra helping with his bare hand. Sweet tooth, Jude thought affectionately as he sat down with a plate of his own.

“You’ve been coming here for awhile, right? I’ve noticed stuff going missing since I moved in,” Jude said.

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. The little guy froze, letting the rest of the syrup drop into his lap, and his eyes once more danced around in a search for an escape. Jude raised his hands in a show of innocence.

“No, no, it’s okay! I just—you don’t have to sneak around. I’m glad someone likes my stuff, and you’re getting more use out of it than anyone on etsy would, you know?” Jude said. “I was gonna say you’re welcome to come back again for more. I wouldn’t mind seeing you again.”

The little guy’s posture truly relaxed for the first time that morning and Jude wondered what it was that was so reassuring—that he was welcome to keep taking props, maybe? Jude hoped he wouldn’t regret that in the coming weeks. Some of it would hurt to lose.

“It’s a shame you can’t talk. I’ve never seen anyone like you before, you know? I don’t even know what to call you,” Jude said.

The little guy chewed his lip thoughtfully for a second before pointing at the small pile of mail sitting on the edge of the counter. With a little more prompting, Jude picked out a seasonal bit of junk mail advertising local fall deals.

“The flyer? No, the pumpkin? Uh, jack-0-lantern? Jack? Your name is Jack?”

The little guy’s brow furrowed as he shook his head. He pointed at the clip-art again, this time holding up two fingers. Two words? Two syllables? Two…something.

“Jack-o? Jackie?”

A scowl.

“Um…Pumpkin?”

Little guy rolled his eyes.

“Not pumpkin, then? That would be cute though, a little Pumpkin,” Jude said.

Probably-Not-Pumpkin huffed impatiently and mimed writing something. Jude felt his ears tinge red. He should have thought of that.

“Duh. Okay, yeah, yeah, I’ll grab you a pencil lead or I think I have…I’ll find something you could use to write, gimme a sec,” Jude said.

He hopped up to grab something from his desk. He had some tiny colored pencils he’d picked up on a whim once, but they’d probably be too large. It might force the guy write large enough that Jude could actually read his handwriting though—was that selfish? After a minute or so of back and forth with himself, he snapped a bit of lead from a mechanical pencil and turned back to the kitchen. That minute was all that Not-Pumpkin needed to disappear.

Jude searched carefully around the kitchen floor, but found no sign of where he’d gone. He sighed. He really thought they’d been getting along. He just had to hope the promise of sweets and props would be enough to bring the little guy back.

-

In the wallways, Hollow hesitated to mark the unit as unsafe. He knew Jude wouldn’t forget about this visit, wouldn’t forget that borrowers were real, but if he’d already known…there was no reason to get himself in trouble with the council if the host wasn’t going to try and trap any intruders. Jude hadn’t meant to keep him there, it seemed, though Hollow didn’t understand exactly why. He was just grateful that he'd been willing to believe that Hollow would write to him.

He made hesitant scratches in the wood to warn his fellow borrowers that the host inside had seen something. It was a simple glyph, vague, and hopefully enough to make the next person to pass through extra careful. He didn’t take the time to mark the other escapes. He was tired. His panic was subsiding, leaving him frustrated and exhausted.

His bag had been left behind, along with the best of his gear and all his loot. But as he trekked back through the darkness, he let relief win over the frustration. He had plenty of time to rebuild his kit. He wasn’t in a cage. He’d gotten away. He’d even had a good, rich meal and stuffed away enough leftovers to give his daughter.

He was home. They were safe.

--

taglist: @da3dm @whumpsday @gt-daboss @whumpinthepot (To be added/removed from the taglist please comment, ask, or message, I’ll forget if it’s just in the tags of a reblog!)

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part four

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 3.2k (3285)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part five!

𝐌𝐘 ����𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

Micheal had left the house a few hours earlier, at the first light of dawn: accompanied by two huge suitcases and a train ticket purchased shortly before, he had simply hugged you before leaving for the next few days. Not a word, not a whisper. Just a hug, one of those that touch your soul without you being able to defend yourself

And so, hours after he was gone, you found yourself thinking about how two simple hugs had brought you back to life after months of suffering. The heat of the midday sun filtered through the window, warming your skin slightly, but it was not comparable to the warmth that last night's hug had caused you: Kaiser's problem, or luck, was that he knew exactly how to use words, and, accompanied by his arms tightened around you, the result had been the current confusion in your head. This morning's one had been lighter, perhaps even hasty, but in the same way it had caused a knot in your stomach that after hours and hours still hadn't gone away

What was going on between you and Kaiser?

What happened to the relationship you had before he first walked into that hotel room?

What was happening to you?

You had thought for years that that crush you had on him as a teenager was gone, but now, back in the same house together, you were really revaluating your latest life choices. In a corner of your mind, you wondered what would have changed if instead of dating Gabriel you had stayed in Germany with Kaiser, maybe dating him

If instead of letting everything disappear naturally you had declared yourself, perhaps you would have been together for a few years now. He would obviously have continued with soccer, he would have traveled all over the world as he did but with you at his side, always ready to cheer him on while you would have concentrated on the world of fashion, perhaps becoming a model in this possible universe too. You would spend the nights loving each other and during the day you would simply make it obvious how much you cared for each other. You would simply have been a couple, one of those that perhaps doesn't even destroy destiny even if he tried hard

But that other universe did not exist. There was only and exclusively the universe in which you let yourself be destroyed by someone who actually never really cared about you. There was only the universe where Y/n and Kaiser were always one step away from each other, but never attached

The mattress buckles slightly under your movement as you reach for the remote control on the nightstand. Turn on the television by switching on the channel dedicated to live national matches, where in the pre-match scenes you notice Kaiser appearing training with Ness

You set the nightstand down, turning up the volume as you get out of bed, resting your bare feet on the cold floor. With the comments of the commentator announcing that the match will start soon, you begin to observe the room: it hasn't changed since you were there, the only changes are some prizes including cups and medals placed on the shelves. You sigh, deciding that watching Kaiser's successes now, while your suitcase is still full, isn't the best option

You sit on the floor, starting to take out the few clothes you brought with you. After dividing the clothes into categories you stand up, walking towards a drawer, precisely the lower one

The drawer is practically empty, so you start putting your clothes in there while distractedly listening to the commentator's comments. Without doing so voluntarily, your hands move deeper into the drawer, where they find something hard. You return to reality for a moment due to the unexpected contact, feeling better the material that looks like a metal box

"What will it be...?" you ask to yourself as you take out the box, which weighs more than expected

You look at the object, ask yourself what is inside since due to its weight it must necessarily contain something. You know very well that peeking into other people's things is not polite, and you have never done it in your life. But the more you look at the box, the more something tells you you should open it. Fucking your manners for a moment, you head towards the living room of the house, heading towards the sofa where you sit placing the box on your lap. A little hesitantly, you open the box still feeling anxious that maybe you really shouldn't and put it where it was

But by now, you've opened it

A myriad of letters emerge from the bottom of the box, and so seeing them you could say that there are at least a hundred. A little unsure you grab one, where you read the sender in elegant handwriting that you recognize immediately

— From Kaiser. To Ness

Berlin, autumn

The dates are not specified, but you are amazed to find something like this. A letter for Ness? Why would Kaiser write him a letter? How long ago is it?. You don't know if you should read it or not, but you've already done the damage so you might as well continue

— From Kaiser. To Ness

Berlin, autumn

I seriously can't believe I have to write you a fucking letter. What is happening in Hamburg that has caused the internet to be missing for a month now? Really Ness, you're weird, but the town where you're from is even weirder. Since the situation can no longer be updated via normal messages (and above all because the situation itself is becoming unmanageable for me) I had to resort to this method which honestly makes me feel like an old man from the 1800s writing to his lover so as not to get caught by his wife. I know you didn't laugh, or maybe you did, but in case you didn't I don't care because Y/n would have laughed and that's what matters. Bastard Munchen hasn't been training much lately, maybe it's because half the team is back home for the holidays. I would have liked to return to house too, but seeing my father after a long time wouldn't have given me much pleasure. Returning to the main topic, the situation has degenerated more than I thought. I last saw her on wednesday, and holy shit, seeing her cry was horrible. I hate having to leave her again every time, I really wish I could go back to the time when her brother coached the team and she was always around. It was nice, even though she and I weren't friends at the time. On wednesday I was about to hold her and ask her to come live with me, but how the fuck was I going to tell her? "Hey hi, every time I leave I feel like I want to die, don't you want to come and live with me?" hell no. I know well that the house isn't entirely mine yet and that I still have to sign a few contracts, but by now it should be legally mine before the end of the month. And when it's actually my house, the first room I decide on will be the one where she will stay if I ever ask her and if she ever comes to live with me. Really Ness, it's strange to feel something like that for someone I couldn't even stand until a few years ago. Seeing her after weeks or months without meeting is beautiful every time, and I should seriously stop being like that because I don't recognize myself either. It's as if every time she cheers for me during the matches (you should have seen how excited she was at monday's match!) it's as if I have to prove myself to her as being even better than I already am. Yes, the situation is definitely more desperate and out of control than I thought. I've thought a lot during this time and every now and then I seriously wonder if I should just stop being like this or if I should come out and simply hope for the best answer. But a possible no? Hell, it would ruin everything I currently care most. Hurry up and find a cell phone and an internet line where you can write to me because really, I hate writing letters

Kaiser Micheal

— From Kaiser. To Ness

Berlin, winter

I wonder how it is possible to completely change my opinion in a short time about a day that I have always hated. Y/n decided to spend Christmas at my house this year, instead of making me come to Hamburg like I usually do since we stay apart. Celebrating Christmas with her has always been quite pleasant, her family and especially her brother love me quite well and they don't mind spending such an important day with me. But on the one hand, they are unaware of how much it bothers me that they wish me a happy birthday, because in addition to being Christmas it's also my fucking birthday. I know they don't do it voluntarily, but it bothers me that I can hardly handle. Y/n never wishes me a happy birthday because she knows I hate it, oh god she's perfect. This year was our first Christmas alone, just me and her in the new house; she came saying that being together during this day could be a way to inaugurate the house, which has been mine for a short time now. We were on the couch pretty much the whole time, eating junk that my diet would abolish without a second thought. But you know what? Honestly I don't care much, seeing her laugh while eating candy was quite enjoyable. I don't think I've had such a great day in a long time, but do you know what specifically happened that changed my opinion about my birthday? By mistake, before locking herself in her room to sleep (she stayed until the 29th, she left just before New Year's Eve so she slept at home for almost a week. When I showed her the room I chose for her, obviously hiding the fact that I hoped she would come to live with me, she was happy) she said "happy birthday, Mihya" to me and immediately apologised. But from her, it didn't bother me... it's strange, because I've always hated my birthday. She continued to apologize for at least a full minute, and trust me Ness, I was seriously on the verge of shutting her up by kissing her. Her wishes, somehow, seem more beautiful. When we went to sleep, each in our own rooms, I was awake for at least 2 hours just thinking that SHE was in MY HOUSE in the room ATTACHED to mine. I should seriously consider visiting a psychologist... my God, I should get myself hospitalized because this is not the Kaiser I know. How long will you stay in Hamburg? I hate writing to you

Kaiser Micheal

— From Kaiser. To Ness

Napoli, summer

I don't remember why for every letter I sent you I made a copy that I kept. The last one was more than a year and a half ago, and what's more I had forgotten about this exchange of letters that we had had for a while. But now, with the current situation, obviously I have to update you because, even if it kind of bothers me to admit it, you are the only one who knows how I feel about her, I would have preferred her to understand it honestly. Today Y/n called me, I'm in Italy for special training and the call cost me a few cents, but I don't care. She was a little agitated, and I didn't understand why her voice seemed more shaky than usual. She told me that her brother received a promotion in Denmark, and that her family will be leaving in less than three weeks. I have to admit, the world fell on me a bit when she told me: the mere fact of not being able to see her daily or monthly weighs on me, but not even seeing her for years? Hell, no. And so I told her, Ness. I asked her to come and live with me in Berlin... and she said yes. She said she will catch the first plane next week and when I get home she will already be here. It will no longer be my home, but our home. Hell, it sounds like a pre-marriage course that I wouldn't mind doing with her though. I think I was more afraid of asking her this than of letting Bastard Munchen lose in the last game. Every now and then I seriously wonder if I should honestly just come out and let her decide; don't get me wrong, I would hope for a positive response, but just letting go of this boulder that I've been carrying on my shoulders for at least 3 or 4 years would be enough. I think hiding the fact that I love her is becoming too complicated, and imagine how the situation will get worse once she lives with me. I would simply like to have less paranoia and let myself go, but I prefer to live in doubt if the other option is to lose her. Shit I don't even know what I just said. I often go to the sea during breaks, here in Naples it's nice and Italy isn't as cold as Germany. I swim often, and every now and then when I pop out of the water after going underwater, I swear I see her on the beach. Every now and then I imagine myself being with her, kissing her, just knowing that she loves me. Am I a weirdo? Probably

Kaiser Micheal

— From Kaiser. To Ness

Berlin, spring

It's been just over a month since she went to Italy. Her room hasn't been opened since she left, and I don't plan on doing so until she gets back, because she will. I know that the relationship won't last, that shitty Italian promises her the world but won't give her anything. And when she comes back, I will declare myself, and finally the boulder I carry on my shoulders will go away. At first, a few months ago, I thought she was joking when she said she was seeing someone: not that I believed her, she's a nice and pretty girl, but with someone other than me? God, I'm thankful I knew how to pretend because I would have risked making an unnecessary scene. When she told me she was leaving I was dead inside, and I'm dead inside now too. Did you notice how many times the coach sent me to the bench during practice? I don't blame him honestly, furthermore he said that if I continue like this I might not even show up for the next match. I hate myself for loving her and her for being so lovable!... it's not true, probably loving her and being able to get to know her better is one of the few graces that this shitty life has given me. I wonder if there is a universe where she loves me, where she knows how much she actually mean it to me. One where, as soon as I get home from training, she come up to me wanting to kiss me. One where I attend all her shows and where she knows I'm her number one fan in everything. One where she becomes my wife one day after I promised her that I would give my all just to make her happy. One where I simply declared myself as soon as she went to Hamburg, when we were both 19

Maybe in another universe, Y/n?

Kaiser Micheal

Your hands tremble as you finish reading the fourth letter; wthout you noticing, small tears roll down your cheeks, leaving an annoying wet sensation. You look at the papers, and for the first time since you met Kaiser, you feel like you never really understood him. These letters could even be from 5 years ago, and you have known him for 10 years! How is it possible that in all this time you haven't really understood what was hidden behind that smile you adore so much?

“…Maybe in another universe, Y/n?” reread cautiously, and it's as if a cold shower runs down your body, giving you a sudden feeling of cold

Kaiser loves you, or rather, you don't know if he still does now. Micheal spent years thinking what you're thinking now, where do you imagine yourself dating him instead of that asshole. Kaiser simply saw the girl he loved pass before his eyes, without being able to stop her and tell him what he really felt. Knowing that you hurt him in some way is a wound that becomes more and more painful as the minutes pass. How could you be so damn blind to the person you claimed to know more than yourself?

Still with trembling hands you place the last letter read next to you, on the sofa cushion. You grab the box, ignoring the other letters that you honestly just want to read anymore, and find something at the bottom: three photographs, a small plushie and a small writing on a piece of paper which now seems ruined due time

You look at the first photograph: the Bastard Munchen team smiles in front of the campus training field. Your brother is at one hundred, you next to him between a player you don't recognize and Ness. Kaiser is a little further away, the only one not smiling in the photo. The date at the bottom of the photograph marks the period in which your brother had just obtained the position, so you were 16 at the time. This is probably the first photo of you two together

Now you look at the second photograph: you were a little older here, probably 17 or 18 years old, sitting on the benches in the field. You greeted the person behind the camera, who you remember was Ness. In one corner, you can see Kaiser training but looking at you. A note behind the photograph reads "Even when you were stupid you were cute"

The third photograph however is from a few years later: the stadium is celebrating, you are hugging Kaiser who has one hand on your hip and the other is busy holding a large cup. You both smile, you even have a few tears in your eyes. Another note at the bottom of the photo says "You were the most important thing even in that moment"

You recognize the stuffed animal as one that you left at his house, by mistake, when you moved to Italy. A small stray dog, blond in color and with blue eyes with a cerulean and red collar. You had called him Mihya, because he reminded you terribly of Micheal. The note was old, but you recognized your handwriting: "Always your number one fan, remember that! ♡". You remembered giving it to him after the same game in the third photo, but you thought he had thrown it away some time ago

You observe everything still trembling, while the tears continue to flow without a brake. Kaiser had been, or still was, in love with you. Perhaps the situation was even more complex than it already was before, and perhaps you didn't really know the Michael you considered your best friend

[witchezandwonderz]

The Dragon's Empress- Part Two

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Female Reader

Word Count: 2096

Part one of this story is on my masterlist- go check it out pls x

Tagged (never done this before so tagging ppl who reblogged, let me know if you want me to remove your tag): @silentwhisper666 @loxbbg @slytherin-bissqueen @groundzerosuki @rosey1981

As the council meeting concluded, Y/N stayed seated while others filed out. When the room emptied, Aegon turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “So quiet today, my queen. I thought your sharp mind might have dulled after last night’s… events,” he teased, a grin on his lips.

Y/N looked up at him, wearing a small smile. “My utmost apologies, my King, I was pondering,” she replied, leaning closer as she spoke. Aegon hummed in response, encouraging her to elaborate.

“I feel as though I know how to overcome this problem, but I’m not sure if you will appreciate my plan,” she admitted, her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. Aegon, confused by her words, leant forward to touch her hand so that she would look at him once again. He did not like seeing his wife in a state of apprehension.

“Why don’t you tell me of your plan, and I can be the decider of whether it is appreciated or not,” Aegon stated, attempting a reassuring smile, though it looked far from genuine—kindness was still unfamiliar territory for him. Regardless, Y/N knew his intentions were good, and this encouraged her to speak further.

“This uprising among the people, these rumours—they’re born from fear and resentment, not mere rebellion. A show of force will only serve to drive them deeper into it,” she spoke with passion. Aegon listened carefully, taking a moment to truly process her words.

After pondering, he let out a small laugh. “I must be misinterpreting your meaning, my love; it sounds as though you wish me to negotiate with those who wish for my death,” he laughed, taking a big swig of his wine. Y/N did not return the laugh. “Not negotiate, husband—listen to them. Listen to their thoughts and feelings.”

Aegon’s smile disappeared, and he let out a quiet, “Oh, I see.”

“You needn’t make a decision now. Think about it, and if you wish to hear my thoughts further, then come and find me,” Y/N spoke softly but firmly. She stood gracefully, moved closer to Aegon, gently pushed a lock of his blonde hair from his face, and planted a kiss upon his forehead before turning and walking out, leaving him to sit and ponder her suggestion.

Aegon thought for a while. If there was anything that terrified him, it was vulnerability. Approaching those who wished him dead would leave him in the most vulnerable position he could imagine—surrounded by those who likely supported his half-sister, Rhaenyra. Initially, he felt slightly betrayed that his wife would suggest something so dangerous. But as he thought further, he began to consider its potential benefits. After what felt like hours, he decided to find Y/N so she could explain her idea in more detail.

Aegon searched most of the grounds for Y/N, but could not find her. The outside air was freezing cold, so he hesitated to check there. Finally, he begrudgingly pulled on more layers and ventured into the cold.

What was she doing to him, he thought. He had never gone out of his way to find someone before—he had never cared enough to do so.

Aegon wandered in the darkness with Criston Cole at his side, as always. Soon, he spotted Y/N in the distance, seated in front of a tree. His brows furrowed. Why would she sit in the cold when she could be warm in their chambers?

“Remain here, Cole,” he instructed. The Kingsguard nodded and stayed in place as Aegon approached Y/N.

She hadn’t noticed him; she was too engrossed in her own thoughts. Unbeknownst to the King, Y/N did this every night. She would dismiss her guard, sit under the tree, close her eyes, and get lost in daydreams.

Despite how peaceful she appeared, Aegon couldn’t help feeling anger toward her lack of defence. What if someone found her alone and harmed her? His heart wrenched at the thought.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, standing directly above her. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, and she jumped slightly at his voice. Realising it was Aegon, she sighed in relief.

“Thank the gods it’s you; you gave me a fright!” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. Aegon tutted as he sat beside her.

“I thought someone of your intelligence would know not to sit out here, isolated,” he stated. Y/N looked at him with confusion, prompting him to continue. “You’re vulnerable here—no guards, no defence.” She smiled at his words, which wasn’t the reaction he expected. He had hoped for more of a “sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Unexpectedly, Y/N leaned forward, grabbed his collar, and pulled him toward her, crashing her lips onto his.

“You care about me,” she stated, breathless. Aegon laughed. “Of course I care about you?” His words came out more as a question than a statement.

“I thought about what you said, and I’ve decided I want to hear your plan in full. But,” he paused, looking at her, “I’m uncomfortable surrounding myself with rebels.”

“Rebels only when they’re left voiceless, my love,” Y/N said. “Show them a king willing to walk among his people, one who has confidence in his rule and strength enough to show understanding, not fear.”

Aegon felt a surge of resistance rise in him. Every instinct screamed against such vulnerability. But there was wisdom in Y/N’s words that he couldn’t ignore. She suggested something he’d never considered—a ruler’s strength wasn’t merely in intimidating his enemies, but also in reassuring his people.

After a long pause, Aegon sighed and nodded. “If this is your counsel, then I will hear it.”

Y/N nodded, pleased. She hadn’t expected him to seriously consider her suggestion. Yet she couldn’t shake a flicker of fear; she knew how much risk this entailed. If it went wrong, she would have many questions to answer, and her mother-in-law would eagerly seek revenge.

The next day, Aegon and Y/N left the Red Keep, accompanied by their guards. They had considered only taking Criston but deemed it too risky.

“Relax, my King. These people can smell fear,” Y/N whispered as they walked through the city. The bustling citizens paused to watch the couple stroll by, some with looks of apprehension, others smiling and waving. Aegon held Y/N’s hand tightly, and she squeezed his to reassure him.

“Good morrow,” Y/N smiled, bowing slightly to a group of people who had gathered nearby. To Aegon’s surprise, she walked closer to them. He tried to slow her down without drawing attention, but Y/N used all her strength to pull him along. Once close, she shook the hands of each person, looking at Aegon expectantly until he followed suit. The group, initially frowning, now wore broad smiles.

As they engaged in conversations, word of the king’s visit spread, filling the air with voices and questions. Some spoke with bitterness, others with worry, but all found Aegon’s ear.

For the first time, Aegon saw these people—his people—as voices rather than subjects. Voices with opinions that mattered, for they spoke about their own livelihoods. He had been so caught up in his family feuds that he’d forgotten not everyone cared about his family; many simply wanted a ruler who made decisions for them.

He knew his morals were flawed, and he wasn’t the kindest king Westeros had seen, but his wife was. That was power in itself.

They returned to the Red Keep an hour later, exhausted but purposeful. Aegon, particularly, was in high spirits, pleased with how the interaction had gone. Unfortunately, his council did not share his enthusiasm.

Alicent and Otto—mother and grandfather—greeted them with displeasure.

“How dare you take my son to be scrutinised by those people!” Alicent spat, her eyes like daggers on Y/N.

Aegon wanted to speak, but knew he’d be silenced by both women.

“Scrutinised? This was perhaps the best decision he’s made,” Y/N replied calmly, though her anger was evident.

“You stupid girl,” Otto muttered.

“Pardon?” Aegon said, moving closer to him.

“This should not have happened,” Otto muttered again.

“How dare you call my wife—your Queen—such insolent names. I should have you hanged for treason. My wife has been a better Hand than you ever were. Do better,” Aegon stated. He turned to his mother, raising a finger. “One week, Mother. In one week, you’ll hear the people’s thoughts, and I guarantee they’re in my favour.”

Aegon’s brother, Aemond, entered the room. Y/N hadn’t interacted much with him—she found him strange, intimidating, and untrustworthy.

He muttered something unintelligible, then swept out. Judging by everyone’s expressions, no one else understood him either.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and fuck my beautiful, intelligent, and loyal wife,” Aegon declared, grabbing Y/N’s hand and whisking her away.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N- Please like, reblog and comment if you enjoyed:)

[hearted-anon]

hii i have read all your fics and i love them can i request lee! seungmin and lers! leeknow and chan

have a great time writing this!

🥰😛🤗

What, what, WHAT?!

Words: 1,176 Note: hm. T/w: Rough tickles Taglist: @reginald-stay09 @itzsana-kiddingmenow @hetashi-takashimaya-apollos-kid @soap143 @jungwon-is-the-one Lee: Seungmin Ler(s): Channie, Minho

"Yea! He's been acting really suspicious these days…" Jisung exclaimed to a listening Felix to him, both of them with a cup of homemade tea from Minho in their hands for their weekly gossip session. Recently, Jisung has been inviting both Felix and Seungmin over to theirs to 'have a good time', a suspicious cat giving a glare in his direction each time he pleaded to let them both come over, like a child asking their parent for permission to allow their friends over for the night. With a reluctant nod, despite acting very strict towards the quokka, tutting in faux disappointment whenever he would forget to tell the duo to take off their shoes when coming in or were a bit too loud, he still never failed to make them home brewed tea, or the mountain of food that was always perfectly laid on the dining table when they exited Jisung's room.

However, both Jisung and Minho felt a tad bit strange when they only saw one head of blonde hair appear at their dorm apartment these few weeks, not that the ace minded too much of course. But as curious as he was, a paw pasted itself on the younger's door, questioning the Aussie where his roommate had disappeared off to. And to their utter surprise, Felix only gave a small shrug, insisting that it was 'something Seungmin didn't specify about' or 'he said he went to hang out with friends'. Pfft- Hanging with friends?! There were only so many excuses that could make past Minho's sharp observation. Knowing with a terrible gut feeling, he sought the only other person that would help him uncover this mystery, Chan.

"So, you're saying, during they're weekly visits, Seungmin just so happens to disappear and come back when Felix arrives home?" Chan inquires, clicking the tip of his tongue while his foot drums against the wooden floor smoothly. Minho nods along, smiling widely when Jeongin peeks out from his room to catch a glimpse of what the elders were up to, hurriedly scurrying by to take a seat between them both.

"Yea! But none of us knows where he went, but we still haven't asked one dorm…" Their heads all collectively snap to the doorway, right across Changbin and Hyunjin's dorm room, which has been eerily quiet these days. Usually, Changbin would bug their dorm to no end, whether it'd be dragging Chan out for gym or being overly affectionate with the youngest, whereas Hyunjin would just be there to give him an earful and drag him back home when it was time for dinner. However, neither of them has left the dorms recently, staying right at home where it was comfortable.

Slamming opens the door without mercy, Chan and Minho were surprised to find Changbin…cooking?! After having told Jeongin to stay home and keep watch if Seungmin would pass by or even better, come over, they had come over to the 'newlyweds' dorm to investigate. Was this some kind of alternate universe? Eyeing the middle of the Hyung line suspiciously, they both came over to see if the rapper had managed to burn water yet, or fry air. Surprisingly, he was doing shockingly well, their eyes lighting up when they tasted the soup he had made, the cook bashfully hiding away with a cookbook in hand.

"Why did you make this though? Isn't Hyunjin the one usually cooking here?" Lee Know questions, a raised eyebrow with his head in the creamy tomato soup.

"I-I… I just wanted to try and start cooking, nothing more!" Changbin hurriedly explains, and with a shared glance, the elders both pounced onto the youngest of the trio, starting their investigation.

"Found you!" Chan exclaims as the door to Hyunjin's room creaks open, and to well, everybody but Seungmin's surprise, he's laying on the ferret's bed, without said ferret being there. A flustered Changbin stands behind them, looking defeated with tear streaks down his face that the leader was wiping while looking straight into the vocalist's eyes.

"Sorry…I tried to keep it a secret, but they got me- AHA!" Changbin worriedly explains but is cut off when the older bunny's fingers sneakily drill into the hollow of his hip, cutting him off.

"You're going to clean yourself up, and take a long, long nap, clear?" Chan coos sweetly into the younger's ear, squishing and kneading his cheeks before giving both of them a tender kiss each, sending him off without fail. Chan and Minho's gaze then turned to the culprit of them all, who was blinking up and them innocently as if he didn't know what was wrong exactly.

"You're going to tell us why you came here and thought it was funny not to inform anyone." Lee Know announces whilst clearing his throat, the eldest coming to pin the puppy's arms above his head, earning a squeal of surprise. To their shock, he instantly revealed the reason, so much for Changbin's resolve to keep it down. Their jaws dropped once the beans were spilled, fingers immediately crawling over his waist and ribs.

"Hehehey! I-I tohohold you guhuhuys! Whahahat gives?!" Seungmin squeals, trying and failing to bat four hands away from his sensitive body that followed him no matter where he squirmed on the bed, melting into a puddle of breathless laughs for them to tease for now.

"How could you even keep this a secret from your Hyungs?! This is such big news y'know?" Chan yells in an almost hurried way, still trying to let the information sink in, an astonished Minho nodding along at the back. As a so-called revenge, they both up their game on the poor puppy, Lee Know's fingers finding the sides of his stomach and digging in while the leader found blowing raspberries on the nape of his neck interesting.

"AHAHAHA! I-I'M SOHOHORRY! HYUHUHUNG!" Seungmin shrieks, dissolving quickly into loud, yet puffy cackles, kicking his legs out through his struggles to get away from the torment being inflicted on his body. However, neither of them let up, only grinning cheekily above the puppy and letting the sensations linger for longer. It was a surprise that the rapper was somehow still sleeping, or maybe not and just hasn't exited his room due to Chan's instructions, where was Hyunjin anyway?

"PLEHEHEASE IT'S TOHOHORTURE! MEHEHERCY!" Seungmin pleads, tears of mirth beginning to well up in his eyes, scrunching his shoulders to try and block out the eldest's lips to no avail, or shoving at Minho's hands; that obviously didn't work out in his favor at all. Having decided he had enough, the duo let up on the poor vocalist, rubbing his stomach soothingly and his reddened cheeks too. They awed at the sight of Seungmin's cherry red face all the way down to his neck, eyes already lidding before they could say anything.

Safe to say, when Hyunjin got back from grocery shopping, he was stunned to find both members asleep in their rooms, unable to hear the giggling and chatter from a certain duo that had just left.