#9 more chapters thank fuck

[arytha]

ah.. the probably last Big Conflict in the novel happened and it was brushed aside.... c'mon........

[splinksplat]

Everyone get out of the bathroom I’m trying to have a breakdown here

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR

SYNOPSiS » two podcast groups, both equally popular on the internet, start interacting with one another. however it isnt how fans want it to be.. OR yn sees sunghoon hating on lauryn hill and accidentally starts an entire fanwar with him.

PAiRiNG » sunghoon x fem!reader

FEAUTRiNG » all of enha, giselle of aespa, txt briefly mentioned

GENRE » smau (social media au), fluff, angst, enemies to lovers (barely), chronically online humor, romance, podcast au, influencer au, HEAVILY inspired from suburb talks and under the influence podcasts, SLOWBURNN

WARNiNGS » profanity, suggestive humor, kys/kms jokes, lots of pop culture references (im chronically online im sorry), drinking, drugs, fanwars, yn haters (BOOOOO), stalking (sorta?) manipulation (NOT FROM SUNGHOON OR Y/N) changes every chapter.

STATUS » completed — (08/03/24) to (10/26/24)

PLAYLiST » your eyes only - enha, after midnight - chappell roan, ex factor - lauryn hill, kiss me - dpr live, read your mind - sabrina carpenter, 3005 - childish gambino, poison poison - renee rapp, thirst - dpr live, just a little bit - enha, daisy - wave to earth, nouvelle vague - wave to earth, thinkin about you - frank ocean. (got carried away .. 😁)

AUTHORS NOTE » BIGGG thanks to my bestest friend ever, my fav british person, @lqfiles , ily so so much and thank you so much for helping me with this process. teaching me how to work tumblr like i was a grandma even tho im only 2 years older than u and making this AMAZING cover (isnt she talented), i love u sooo much more than words can describe, you annoying brit (endearing) 🫶

TAGLIST CLOSED!

written chaps in blue

🔴 RECORDING..

teaser (read first for context!!)

profiles i & profiles ii

1) call my phone a vibrator the way it keeps buzzing

2) YAP CENTRAL EP.135: alpha male podcasts?!

3) first hate thread. feeling nervous

4) pussy slay queen!

5) okay alpha

6) ROUND TABLE EP.149: perfect pitch :o

7) 1 down 3 to go

8) what the fuck is a ynhoon

9) YNXOXO VLOG: night out w/ won and riki

10) wet and bothered

11) just a normal tuesday

12) jungwons evil arc

13) YNXOXO VLOG: cafe date with my girls <3

14) the battle of thirst traps

15) twitch streaming era

16) YAP CENTRAL EP.136: did social media ruin relationships?

17) second interaction: kinda scared

18) fuck skater boys

19) park sunghoon v. round table

20) riki emo era: OVER

21) sunghoons side hoes

22) ROUND TABLE EP.150: we traded phones?!

23) bro define: friend

24) spidey sense

25) on my cellular plan i pay for?

26) YNXOXO VLOG: night time routine + surprise!!

27) a face i would kiss

28) collab of the century

29) YAP CENTRAL EP.137: has love lost its meaning?

30) eyes don’t lie

31) operation: ynhoon (postponed)

32) crybaby

33) operation: ynhoon (BACK ON)

34) chat is this a date yes or no?

35) boss baby jay

36) boyfriend

37) soft or hard?

38) what da heck *tyla voice*

39) YNXOXO VLOG: ice skating! | vlog w/ a special guest!!

40) love is on air

UNCUTS

1) operation: get riki ip banned on twt

2) try not to blow up challenge: FAILED

3) JAYS KITCHEN: my friends trying to help me make food blindfolded. (spoiler: it’s a fail)

4) YNXOXO VLOG: my boyfriend does my makeup voiceover !

5) YAP CENTRAL BLOOPERS: riki kat and yn patreon ad

© all rights to pshbites 2024

[peacheeeliz]

COMMUNITY

SYNOPSIS ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?

PARING ⤏ nonidol!mark x nonidol!fem reader

GENRE ⤏ smau, written, rom-com, fluff, college au, slowburn, mark is so down bad, but so is y/n eventually

FEATURING ⤏ mark, donghyuck, jaehyun, jungwoo, and johnny from nct 127, julie from kiof, kim jiwoong from zb1, minnie from idle, and allen from cravity (+ mentions of a TON of other idols)

FACECLAIM ⤏ faceclaim for y/n purely for picture purposes!! (@ 0ki0h on ig)

WARNINGS ⤏ swearing, sexual and kys/kms jokes, pls ignore timestamps 💔, mentions of jaehyun being a stoner, a bit of bullying, more to come

PLAYLIST ⤏ at least it was here, the 88 | 200, mark | red wine supernova, chappell roan | i wanna be yours, artic monkeys | dandelion, jaehyun | just for me, pinkpantheress | snap out of it, artic monkeys | urs, niki | right here, keshi | falling in love, cigarettes after sex

STARTED ⤏ 9/21/2024

STATUS ⤏ complete ♡

NOTE ⤏ community is literally my favorite sitcom, so when their tiktoks started popping up on my fyp, i couldn't resist making a smau inspired by it 🥴

PROFILES & CHAPTERS

STUDY GROUP | MEAN GORLS | BIBLE STUDY

prologue. try it bite it lick it spit it

episode 1. community

001. i could literally kiss u

002. i love ur brother too (469 wc)

003. they're not soundproof (1046 wc)

004. what the fuck am i chopped liver (653 wc)

episode 2. fundamentals of accounting

005. seize the day

006. DAY SEIZED (821 wc)

episode 3. psychology of personality

007. the apple of my eye

008. thanks soso much

009. alpha i need you......

episode 4. problems in history

010. WHY NTO

011. GYATT DAMN

012. u told me u kissed him

013. she's so crazzzzzzzy

episode 5. self defense & combatives

014. hyuck :((

015. old barbie movies??

016. friday. three o'clock. right here. (539 wc)

017. the what on friday?

018. beat his ass mark (1039 wc)

episode 6. heating laboratory

019. concrete jungle

020. love at frost sight

021. OHHHH WHAT THE FUCK

episode 7. survey of characteristics

022. FREAKISHLY YOUNG??

023. except ur both stupid

024. (not stupid ☝️)

episode 8. intro to media communication

025. uu feel lile home

026. i wish i waa qith u

027. why does my heart still feel heavy

episode 9. critical thinking

028. we need to talk

029. am i stupid (639 wc)

030. snap out of it

031. my favorite study buddy

episode 10. team sports

032. fuckass burger

033. i gotta piss (1107 wc)

034. zombie by the cranberries (1497 wc)

035. my jellies are tingling... (1073 wc)

036. these kids are so weird,,, (1474 wc)

episode 11. human relations

037. stupid ass friends

038. FYM SADLY??

039. i love you man (1925 wc)

040. meet me at the apateu, apateu

041. my favorite part of the year 🩷

☆©peacheeeliz, 2024

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is closed!

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: "I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere"

-THE END-

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 9

Previous/next chapters found here.

You and Johnny take a walk. CW: domestic abuse, panic attacks, dissociation, drug withdrawal, vomiting.

-

“Holy shit,” Jackie crows at the sight of you, her dark eyes huge and round like twin moons. One of her hands holds the rag she was using to wipe down the countertop of the bar and the other covers her mouth in a dainty expression of horror. “What happened to you?” 

You shake your head, a silent plea not to ask any more questions. The bruises on your face still throb with your pulse, a painful reminder that you are alive when you’re not even sure if you want to be. 

“Rooster’s gonna send you home,” says Jackie. “There’s no way you’ll get tips like this.” 

“No he fucking won’t,” you say through your teeth. A day of not working means a day of no tips. A day of no tips means the stash of money in your locker remains stagnant. If there was one thing you had learned on Saturday, it’s that your time with your boyfriend is coming to an end, one way or another. Either he will kill you, or you will kill him, or will finally scrape together the means to leave. 

You’ve got your eye on an apartment across town. One with copious natural lighting, one with a small but open floor plan. It would be more than enough for you. It would be everything.

Jackie sees the fire in your eyes—either that or you’ve gone and scared her—because she calls over Ruth to cover for you both and takes you into the break room, grabbing a bag of cosmetics out of her locker and doing her best to cover up your bruises. She gives you her jacket to cover the ones on your arms, the tiny circles caused by fingertips. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, feeling like there’s something stuck in your throat.

“We gotta stick together,” she says, shrugging a shoulder. “I can’t work here alone. Not with just Ruth to talk to all day, and Rooster strutting around—“

“I know I didn’t just hear what I thought I heard,” a male voice says, the break room door flinging open and startling you both. Ruben stands there, his cowlick looking remarkably like a rooster’s comb. Your manager hates being called Rooster (which seems to make the problem all the worse), but the likeness is just too canny. “Why is Ruth out on the floor alone?”

“Girl stuff,” Jackie says with open malice. “You wanna hear about my monthly cycle, Ruben?”

He scowls, recoiling. “Just—wrap it up ladies. And wash your hands.”

“Jesus,” Jackie mutters once Rooster is gone and the door behind him is safely shut. “Men are so fucking weak.” 

The bruises on your face throb at her words. Men feel pretty fucking strong to you. 

-

“Yer outta yer mind if you think I’m eating that,” Johnny slurs, head in his hand where he sits slumped at the kitchen table. His entire body throbs, stomach wracked with nausea as he stares down at the eggs in front of him. 

“You need to eat,” Simon says, firm and quiet. Just the sound of his voice makes tears fill Johnny’s eyes—but that’s all his eyes do these days. Water. It’s the withdrawal, he knows. It makes him feel like crawling out of his own skin would be a mercy, like he’s suffering from the worst flu he’s ever had: puking and shitting his guts out, body aches from hell, eyes and nose running constantly. Combine that with the tension with Simon and it’s like he’s living in a nightmare he can’t wake up from; except even in his worst dreams, Simon had never done something like this. Even in his worst dreams, Simon had been a hero to him. 

“Can’t trust you,” Johnny mutters.

Simon reaches out, the motion a little too sudden and unexpected. Johnny flinches. 

When Simon moves again, it is slower, with obvious purpose as he takes Johnny’s fork, spears a bite of his eggs, and brings it to his own mouth. 

Somewhat mollified, Johnny picks up the fork and begins pushing the eggs around on his plate, just to make Simon shut up. Even if he knows the food isn’t poisoned, he still doesn’t have an appetite. 

Then Simon sets a green pill beside his plate, and all it does is set Johnny off again. 

“Get that away from me,” snarls Johnny. 

“You can’t just quit cold turkey. They’re opioids, Johnny. It could kill you to stop.” 

Fury swells up inside him, the edges of his vision bleeding black. Johnny shoves the half plate off of the table. It shatters against the linoleum, a sound which makes Simon flinch. For the moment, it satisfies Johnny’s need for control, his need for retribution. His need for violence. “I hope it does,” he grits out on a whim. “Don’t you pretend that you care.” 

The table creaks under Simon’s weight as he places his palms against it and leans forward, his face stormy. “I fucking love you. Everything I ever do is because I love you so fucking much—“

“Oh, right,” Johnny scoffs. 

“—yeah, right, I’ve been killing myself to keep you alive and safe and happy—“

“And you’ve been doin’ a shit job!” Johnny shouts, face reddening. 

Simon goes quiet and stiff. Johnny doesn't believe for a moment that he’s gone too far. Simon is the one who went too far the moment he dumped the crushed oxycontin into Johnny’s juice. Everything else is fair game. 

Before they discharged together, Johnny would have thought that Ghost’s face beneath the mask was just as stoic. Now he knows better, knows that Simon wore the mask to conceal a face which too often wore its emotions so plainly. 

He looks sad. Angry. And for a moment Johnny thinks Simon might even hit him. It would be welcome, Johnny thinks. He would be glad to have a bruise to point to, to be able to say ‘Here is where you hurt me’ instead of all of his bruises being on the inside. But instead Simon just turns away and goes into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

After a moment, Johnny hears the balcony door open and shut too as Simon puts as much distance between them as physically possible. 

Well, Johnny thinks, looking toward his slip on shoes. I can do you one better.  

-

By the time you are clocking out, there is a message from Simon on your phone. Since poker night, there have been a few days of radio silence from the apartment next door—and you don’t even want to know the things they might have heard coming from your own apartment. You’ll be happy to see Johnny again, to know that Simon is getting to take a few brief minutes for himself, even if that’s all you can give him. 

But when you open the message, your stomach drops: Johnny is missing. Have you seen him? sent nearly thirty minutes ago. You slam your locker shut, clenching the phone in your hand as you slip back out to the front of the restaurant, already bringing up the interface to call Simon, to hear what has happened and to find out how you can help. 

It isn’t needed. 

Johnny is sitting in the booth in the corner. Your heart swoops, takes your guts with it. You carefully make your way to his booth, noting the sweat on his forehead that he is mopping away with a napkin, noting the way his arm trembles. He looks thinner than ever. He looks sick. 

He smiles at you. 

“Are you off work? Did I catch you at the perfect time?” Johnny wonders. 

“You did,” you say cautiously, slipping into the booth.

“Good. I want to take you somewhere.” 

“Maybe we should go back to your apartment. Simon is pretty worried about you.” 

Johnny’s face darkens, visible storm clouds rolling in. It makes your stomach turn over, anxious. “Simon doesn’t worry about anyone but himself.” He stands, shaking a little, and holds out his hand to you. Nothing else you can do, you take it, careful not to pull him over as you stand out of the booth. 

-

The place Johnny takes you is a park nearby. It’s one that is handicap accessible, something which you’ve been taking notice of more and more often lately. The sidewalks are smooth and wide, the bathrooms are roomy, and there are plenty of benches (such as this one) for you and Johnny to sit down on when his leg aches from walking so far. 

Your phone burns a hole in your pocket. The first thing you had done was text Simon that Johnny was with you and he was okay. You could feel the buzz of multiple messages, but you hadn’t brought the phone out yet to check them, not with Johnny’s focus on you. You could sense that Simon was a sore spot right now. 

You didn’t want to make Johnny angry. 

So the two of you sit on a bench in dappled sunlight, the sweat cooling on both of your bodies. 

Johnny leans over and vomits. 

“Jesus Christ,” you say, scooting close to him to rub at his back. “Are you alright?” 

“Detoxin’,” he mutters, wiping the back of his mouth with a napkin he brought from the diner. “Don’t worry about it.” 

You’re pretty fucking worried about it. Detoxing from what, you wonder, as Johnny sits up, leaning back heavily against the park bench, close enough that you can count his eyelashes. He takes several deep, steadying breaths, and you take the stolen moment to look at him. His jaw is sharper than ever, cheekbones sharp, circles beneath his eyes, but he is undoubtedly handsome. The thought startles you; you haven’t had such a thought about a man in years. 

Johnny’s eyes open, blue as the sky, and rake over your face.

“Yer makeup job isn’t very good,” says Johnny at length. 

Your heart skips a beat. You turn away and watch a woman pass with her dog, a shepherd. Wetting your lips, you can’t think of anything to say. Johnny’s hand appears out of the corner of your eye and you flinch away from the touch before taking note of the shape of his hand: open, with soft fingers meant to caress instead of hurt. Baffled by this gentle touch, you let him stroke his thumb along the shadow of a bruise visible beneath Jackie’s makeup. It makes you shiver, like a cold breeze has blown in. 

“What was his excuse?” Johnny asks. “Or did he even have one?”

“What did Simon tell you?” 

“Everything. Already suspected most of it. He beats on you, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you mutter. 

How long has it been since someone knew? No—not since someone knew. Since someone cared? Since someone confronted it head on and called it what it was? Jackie knew—she had to know—but other than taking the heat for you about some texts on your phone and helping you cover up the bruises, she never made any motions to acknowledge it. Your family had known, before they cut off contact with you for good, but they were terrible creatures in themselves. 

You thought that maybe Simon had known, too. 

People seemed to have a limited capacity for caring about others. Or maybe they just had a limited capacity for caring about you. 

“I want to help you,” says Johnny, earnest. 

You can’t help but look at him with suspicion. “Why?” 

“Because it’s wrong, what he’s doin’,” says Johnny simply. “Because we’re supposed to cherish the people we love. Because no one deserves this, least of all you.” 

Your hands work anxiously in your lap. He says the right things—but you’ve always been a sucker for pretty words. 

“The last time a man wanted to help me escape a bad situation, it was so he could put me into a worse one,” you admit. Johnny’s face falls, hurt splashing across his features, and you feel it keenly, like it is your own. You’re quick to assure him: “I want to trust you.” 

The rest remains unspoken: you don’t know if you can. 

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them,” says Johnny with a wane smile. 

“Hemingway said that.” 

“Aye. You like to read?”

“Yes, but not Hemingway.” 

Johnny laughs, a bright sound that has your mouth curling upward. Smiling isn’t unfamiliar to you, not when you must plaster one on all day to have any chance at all of making tips, but it’s been a while since it’s been genuine. Maybe that’s why it feels so strange. Maybe when it’s real, it uses different muscles. 

“If you were going to help,” you begin cautiously, giving an awkward smile to an older couple as they shuffle by, pausing and waiting for them to be gone before you continue, “how would you do it? I’m…I’m in deep. He’s got videos.” 

“Videos.” Johnny’s jaw has clenched tight, his eyes hard and cold. 

“Of me.” 

“Aye, I assumed. So he’s blackmailing you.”

You shrug a shoulder, eyes on your scuffed work shoes. 

“What if I could make him disappear?” Johnny asks quietly. 

You glance up. “How?” 

It’s his turn to shrug, an expression of feigned indifference. A little smile tugs at his lips. “An accident. Any accident, really.”

You finally understand him, and at first you laugh, grin tugging at the bruises on your face until his own solemn expression barely changes, and then your laughter dies on your tongue. 

“Johnny what the fuck,” you whisper. “You’re joking, right? I—Jesus Christ. I have to pretend that was a joke. You’re talking about murder, and—

—and I’m the first person they’d suspect!”

“That’s why it would have to look like an accident,” Johnny emphasizes.

“You’d be risking my freedom, my life—“

“I’d never let you take the fall—“

“Then you’re putting your own life at risk—why would you—fuck you don’t even know me!”

Johnny’s face goes red and he says nothing. Your teeth click shut with how fast you shut your mouth. You’re embarrassing him, making him angry—that much is clear. Maybe he expects you to be grateful, (and there is a part of you, small, which is flattered, as nonsensical as it is), but mostly all you are is scared shitless. 

Johnny talks about killing the way most people talk about getting lunch. 

“I forget that you don’t know about our past,” Johnny says, seeming to shrink into himself as he leans back against the bench, running a hand through his mohawk. “Simon n’ me. We’re ex-military. I don’t even want to guess at our combined body count. I—lass. I’m scaring you.”

“No,” you lie soothingly. Your hands clench together to keep them from shaking and giving you away. “No, no—I’m fine, I just remembered, I was supposed to give Jackie some gas money. She gave me a ride the other day. I should probably go—“

“I’d never hurt you, I swear it,” says Johnny fervently, sitting up tall. He reaches for your hand and you want to scream but you go limp instead, like a rabbit caught in a dog’s jaws, playing dead. He takes your hand and pets it softly. You barely feel it, mind far away. 

“It’s okay,” you soothe him emptily, hoping to placate him enough to get away. “I’m fine, I promise.”

Johnny seems to realize what you’re doing. He gently lays your hand back in your lap.

He says, quiet: “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.” 

You can’t talk anymore, shell-shocked, terrified. There was a time when you were good at this: good at appeasing the beasts inside men. You could soothe your boyfriend’s bad mood in a heartbeat with just a touch or a few words. But over time it had become more and more difficult, and you had become more and more afraid. Now no matter how hard you try, your efforts feel stunted and lame. 

Johnny is talking, low voice rushing over you like the current of a warm river.  

“—in public, aye? Would be a fool to hurt you here, wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice soft. He has moved to the far end of the bench until a gaping chasm rests between you both, one you are grateful for. It gives you the space to breathe, your chest throbbing. “All these people around—someone would stop me. You’re safe, lass. Take a breath fer me. Aye, and another—good girl, that’s it. Doing so well. Strong one, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” you croak, feeling uncomfortably tethered to your own body, to the burning of your eyes. You reach up and wipe at them before the tears can fall. Beside you, Johnny sits quietly. Several minutes pass, and each person who walks by the bench seems to bring you more and more security, until you are safe enough to feel silly and embarrassed by your own overreaction. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Don’t be sorry,” says Johnny. “It was my fault. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I won’t…I won’t bring that up again. I guess it’s pretty stupid. Simon’s been telling me so all along.”

“Are you two fighting?” 

Johnny snorts. “You could say that. He did something…something terrible. I don’t know how to trust him anymore.” 

“Do you still want to trust him?” 

“Aye,” says Johnny, voice nearly carried away by the breeze. “In the service, I trusted him with anything. Everything. My whole miserable life. Never wanted that to change.”

“Someone once reminded me that the best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them,” you say. 

“Sounds like a fucking cunt.”

“Hemingway or you?”

“Both.”

You have just relaxed back onto the bench, tilting your face toward the sun to offer it another one of your rare smiles when a shadow falls over the two of you both. 

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 4

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

As the door closed behind you, Bucky tried to ease the tension in the room. His hands gently held your shoulders as he guided you away from the heated encounter with Caroline, his voice a low murmur.

“You better fucking win the election, Bucky,” you spat, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Alright, alright,” he responded, trying to soothe you with a calm tone, though his own nerves were frayed.

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer, your finger jabbing into his chest. “You’ve kidnapped me, drugged me, and dragged me into this mess,” you said, each word laced with frustration.

“I’ll play my part as the good and loving wife for the cameras, but you…” You paused, making sure your words hit him hard. “You better do your job too. Be my fucking husband and defend me from your mother!”

Bucky was taken aback, not just by your words but by the clarity with which you spoke, despite the fury burning within you. He was impressed—here you were, holding your ground even when the world seemed to be collapsing around you.

“Cause of death by in-law is rare,” you added, your voice dripping with dark humor. “I’d volunteer to add to the numbers.”

A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I really like this humor. Unique,” he said, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead. The gesture was meant to calm you, but there was something more behind it—a hint of admiration, maybe even respect.

Without another word, Bucky turned and walked back out, his mind already on the next confrontation—this time, with his mother.

Caroline was still seething, humiliated by how you had called out her feelings. She sat with a rigid posture, her face tense as Hazel carefully fixed her hair. Shawn, sensing the tension, silently poured whiskey into a glass and handed it to Julius.

“Put a leash on her,” Caroline spat at Bucky, her voice laced with anger.

Bucky sighed, frustration clear in his eyes. “Mother!”

His voice rose sharply, making everyone in the room flinch. “I want you to stop talking down to my wife.”

Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “You two aren’t exactly husband and wife.”

“Maybe not to you,” Bucky shot back, his tone cold and firm. “But to me, she’s the only woman in my life.”

Her expression hardened, but Bucky continued, undeterred. “And I’ve told you before—I won’t do this election without her.”

Caroline’s hands clenched into fists. “So you’re going to blame me now?” She massaged her temples as if warding off a headache. “Is this the thanks I get after helping you reach this position?”

Bucky’s eyes blazed with controlled fury. “We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you hadn’t tried to separate us.”

Caroline’s thoughts churned. She hated you, her daughter-in-law, from the very beginning. She had always wanted Bucky to marry someone from their own social circle, someone who matched their status. Separating you two had been a victory for her, but Bucky’s refusal to remarry was an unexpected blow.

And now, the truth was unraveling—he had never sent the divorce papers to the court. He had blackmailed the attorney into silence. Not just you, but the entire family had been kept in the dark. Caroline had never imagined that her favorite child would deceive her like this.

Bucky stepped closer, his gaze steady. “I could’ve had a son or daughter by now. Nate could’ve had a cousin. It would’ve created the perfect image.”

Caroline’s eyes filled with dramatic tears as the weight of his words hit her. She had never anticipated this level of defiance from her son.

Bucky’s expression softened only slightly as he watched his mother’s tears fall. “Mother,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “stop with the crocodile tears.”

Caroline’s tears abruptly ceased, her eyes rolling in exasperation.

Bucky, before turning to leave, fixed her with a final, stern look. “If you want to see me win, stop poisoning us with your venomous words.” With that, he closed the door behind him.

As he stepped out, he noticed you leaning against the table, arms crossed and a knowing look on your face.

“You’re too late,” you remarked dryly. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Bucky let out a small, tired smile. “Anything for you, babe.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The car moved steadily along the dark streets, the soft hum of the engine the only sound between you and Bucky in the backseat. The city lights blurred outside as you stared out the window, your reflection barely visible against the glass.

“Are you angry?” you finally asked, your voice cutting through the heavy silence.

Bucky turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “For what?”

“For witnessing me fight with your mom,” you clarified, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and uncertainty.

Bucky leaned back in his seat, his eyes briefly closing as if gathering his thoughts. “To make you feel better, I won’t blame you at all,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “She had it coming.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “I’m so confused,” you admitted, your brow furrowing as you turned to face him. “What changed? You used to listen to her and do whatever she said without complaining.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he let out a long breath. “She’s the main reason why we separated.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt your heart clench. The man sitting next to you was different—more reflective, more burdened by the past. It was as if the Bucky you once knew had been buried under years of silence and unspoken pain.

“You caught me by surprise when you quickly signed the divorce papers,” Bucky continued, his voice tinged with regret. He ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders evident. “Back then, I took everything for granted. I was used to you being patient and supportive, no matter what.”

He paused, his eyes staring straight ahead, as if lost in a memory. “Having a mother like Caroline, who’s super ambitious, and a father like Julius, who’s quiet but just as driven—it’s exhausting. It drained me mentally. The only anchor I had in this world was you.”

His voice cracked slightly, and you saw his hand clench into a fist on his lap. “The second mistake I made was turning a blind eye and shutting my ears when it came to your feelings. As long as I provided for you, I thought you’d stay. But you didn’t.”

His words cut deep, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You had loved him so deeply, yet he had been so blind to your pain. You had been patient, supportive, always there for him, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. The loneliness you felt in the marriage, the constant pressure of living up to his family’s expectations, had finally broken you.

“You’re an idiot,” you muttered, looking away as your eyes stung with unshed tears. You turned your gaze back to the window, unable to face him.

Bucky chuckled softly, though the sound held no real amusement. He looked at you, his eyes tracing the curve of your profile, even though you refused to meet his gaze. You could hate him, kill him even, but at least you were here beside him. That was enough for now. He knew he could win you back—he had to, for his own sanity.

The upcoming election loomed over him like a dark cloud. Everyone knew that the Vice President was just a figurehead, an accessory to the real power, which was Steve. Bucky had this gut feeling they were going to win, that victory was within reach. But he also knew the price of that victory—he would have to stop thinking of himself and put the country first.

But before he lost the chance to be selfish, he was determined to use this time to get you back. He knew the methods he had used were wrong—manipulative and unfair.

But he needed you, desperately. The one thing you and Caroline had in common was persistence; once you made up your mind, no one could change it.

He had to try. Because losing you again wasn’t an option.

The car slowed as it approached your apartment building, and Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest. This was just the beginning—he knew that. But he was willing to do whatever it took, no matter how long it took, to win you back.

Even if it meant going to war with the one person he could never afford to lose.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, Greg arrived at the apartment, his nerves evident in the way he hesitated at the door. He took a deep breath before stepping inside, where he found Bucky already awake, sipping coffee by the window. Bucky's demeanor was calm, yet his eyes held a storm just beneath the surface.

Greg tried to ease the tension with a light question. "So, how are you and the missus?"

Bucky's expression was unreadable as he replied, "Hanging on the cliff. While she’s waiting for me to fall."

Greg cleared his throat, a chill running down his spine at Bucky’s ominous words. He couldn't help but think that this situation was far more precarious than he had imagined.

Just then, you emerged from your room, fully dressed and determined. Your eyes lit up when you saw Greg. "Oh great, you’re here. I want to talk to you."

Greg straightened up, ready to listen. You didn’t waste any time, your tone sharp and to the point. "Everyone's bored if we keep talking about politics. We need to show something relatable."

"People love candid moments," Greg offered, trying to gauge your reaction.

You nodded, appreciating the idea. "Exactly. We need to create moments that make us look more human, more like them. A small argument over breakfast, a shared laugh, anything that shows we’re not just politicians."

Bucky listened silently, his face impassive, but there was a flicker of approval in his eyes. He trusted you to handle this. You had a way of making people see what they wanted to see.

Greg, catching the subtle nod from Bucky, continued, "We could arrange some casual outings. Maybe a visit to a local diner, something low-key. Capture those moments and share them. It'll make people feel like they know you both personally."

Bucky finally spoke, his voice steady but with an edge of finality. "Whatever works. Just keep it natural. No over-the-top stunts."

You met Bucky’s gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. “We’ll make it work,” you said, confidence in your voice. “This will make people not just like us, but feel invested in us. They’ll want to see us succeed.”

Later, at the campaign headquarters, Steve approached Bucky, a rare smile on his face. “I’m impressed,” he admitted. “The way you and your wife have drawn the younger generation into this election—it’s brilliant.”

He never thought that you and Bucky could put your differences aside and make it work. From the outside, no one would know that the two of you had been separated for years. You both played the role of a married couple too well.

Bucky gave a slight nod, his eyes narrowing with the weight of the responsibility. “You can count on her.”

But the moment of pride was short-lived. Steve’s expression turned serious as he motioned for Bucky to follow him into his office. Once inside, Steve closed the door behind them. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Bucky, sensing the shift in tone, asked, “Bad news?”

Steve hesitated, then sighed. “Well… kinda. My team found a comment online that mentioned the divorce between you and her.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in shock. “How? Nobody knew except you and me.” He had only told Steve about the divorce that was never finalized.

Now, only the Secret Service, Greg, and Steve knew, and they had all sworn to keep it a secret. His family and the Rogers couple wouldn’t reveal it because it would damage their image.

“Did the comment get deleted?” Bucky asked, his voice tight with concern.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Steve reassured him. But then he paused, his voice dropping. “What if…?”

Bucky knew what he was hinting at and immediately dismissed the thought. “It can’t be her.”

Steve wasn’t so sure. “She thought she was divorced, traveling the world thinking she was single. She must have told someone.”

Bucky stayed quiet, his mind working through the possibilities. But outwardly, he remained calm. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured. “Well, if someone really knows, we’ll just have to wait. Sooner or later, that person will reveal themselves.”

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[imaginespazzi]

Part 1: Simple Things

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

Cause your presence still lingers here (it won't leave me alone)

(In which a procrastinating writer starts another series to continuously procrastinate on)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining

Words: 5.8K (lowkey shocked I managed that)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Look at me not being a liar! I'mma try to be good with updates but we all know me. This first chapter is mainly buildup and it's not my favorite but it's important to get the plot rolling. I know very little about California and it's going to become more and more apparent throughout this series so everyone who knows Cali, just pretend thanks! Did I edit? Yes. Are there probably still mistakes? Also yes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked, and what you wanna see next!

February 2033

“Anywhere but GSV,” Paige says adamantly, staring at the white wall in front of her, instead of her exasperated agent. 

Talia lets out a deep sigh, perfectly manicured sharp red nails tapping incessantly against her desk. For the most part, Paige is a dream client and when Talia says jump, she says how high. It’s easy to trust Talia’s vision when she hasn’t let her down once since Paige’s management company has assigned her to their basketball sensation. But most of those decisions had been about endorsement opportunities, opportunities that wouldn’t have other ramifications on the rest of Paige’s life, opportunities that didn’t come with personal consequences. 

“Paige-”

“How about the Sparks?” 

“They’re not offering nearly as much.”

“I’m okay with taking a pay-.”

“You do not pay me as much as you do for me to let you finish such a stupid sentence.”

“Fine,” Paige spins around in her swivel chair, “you’re telling me nobody else is offering me anything as big as GSV.”

“Well I mean Indiana…” Talia trails off, barely able to hide an impish grin at Paige’s pronounced eyeroll, “and of course you could always just stay in Dallas.”

Paige winces at the mention of the current team. With one championship and two MVP campaigns under her belt, it would be incorrect to say her time with the Wings hadn’t been fruitful but she’d never felt quite at home here. And that had been before the personnel changes had hit Dallas and suddenly, the team coming off a near perfect season with a trophy in their hand, was struggling to keep themselves in playoff contention. Paige had stuck it out two more seasons after, a testament to her loyal nature and desire to start and finish her career at the same place like many legends had done but ultimately enough had been enough and she’s come to terms with the fact that she’s not meant to be a part of the Wings forever. 

“Can’t you try talking to the Sparks again?” she says, hands massaging her temple as she resorts to begging, “it’s fucking L.A. they’ve got to have some money lying around somewhere.”

“Even if they did, you and I both know the Sparks aren’t a good fit basketball wise either. GSV has everything you’re looking for. They need a PG and you need a championship contender who’s offering you a deal like they are. You can’t throw all of that away just because-”, Talia bites her lip, catching herself before she can vocalise out loud the real reason they’re having such a complicated conversation about what should be a simple decision. 

Paige swallows uncomfortably, skin prickling with that all too familiar fire that spreads through her veins every time her past brushes a little too close to her present. It would be impossible to keep them from ever colliding, but for almost a decade now, Paige has managed to keep them separate beyond absolute necessity. She’s done the cordial handshakes when the Wings played the Valkyries and given due diligent praise when the media had asked about the competition, but that was it. More than that would have been like willingly walking into a fire with kerosene all over her body. And Paige can’t do that, not when the burn marks from years and years ago, still haven’t healed. 

“Team chemistry is important,” Paige says finally, “I might be an on-court fit at GSV but that won’t matter if it’s a disaster off the court.”

Talia sighs and Paige can tell she’s fighting the urge to whack her head against her desk, “it’s been years Paige. You've lived a whole life without each other. The two of you are adults. You’re professionals and you’re two of the best goddamn players in the league. You have the same goal; you want to win. You don’t think you can put that behind you to get you both what you want?”

You've lived a whole life without each other

It’s like a well-aimed arrow that barely breaks skin but shatters something underneath, something buried deep within, something she should have gotten rid of years ago but hasn’t been able to let go of yet. Something that feels a lot like a forever she’d never gotten to live out and an always that had flown out of her reach. And Paige knows nobody lives the life they’d expected to live at fifteen or even eighteen but the truth is that most of her dreams had come true. The only thing missing was the person she’d expected to be there by her side when they did. 

“Okay listen,” Talia begins again, “here’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Bossy,” Paige smirks, bracing herself, knowing she’s not about to like the next words out of Talia’s mouth. 

“You’re going to go to San Francisco,” the older woman raises a silencing hand the minute Paige tries to protest, “you’re going to meet the front office, you’re going to meet the GM and you’re going to tour their facilities. And if after talking with them and seeing all they have to offer, if it’s still not enough to counter having to play with her, then we can revisit this conversation.”

“Can I say no?” Paige tilts her head with a sigh. 

Talia smirks and it’s enough for Paige to let her head finally hit the table, “your flight leaves in two days.”

***

Azzi wakes up to a light weight sprawled over her back and tiny fingers rubbing circles against her temple. She can’t help but smile, keeping her eyes closed and listening to the sound of her daughter’s quiet breathing as the little girl continues her ministrations. It’s a new skill she’s been taught, to wake her mom up like this instead of screaming. So far, Azzi think’s it’s been a successful transition. 

“Mama,” Stephie whispers in Azzi’s ear, “are you awake yet cause I really really want waffles.”

Azzi laughs, finally flipping herself over and Stephie squeals as she goes from on top of her mother, to landing on the bed, “I thought you said you wanted pancakes last night?”

“I did,” a thoughtful look crosses the five-year-old's eyes, “I think I changed my mind.”

“You think?” Azzi suppresses a smile. It’s uncanny really how she’d given birth to her perfect mini-me. The moment the nurses had placed the tiny little creature into her waiting hands, she’d noticed immediately how much it felt like looking through a door into her childhood. And with every passing day, it seems Stephie morphs more and more into Azzi. From the way her face betrays her every emotion to the way she can’t make a decision to save her life, it’s all Azzi and really it makes sense, because Stephie is all Azzi’s. 

“Yes,” Stephie nods matter-of-factly as she sits up onto her knee and pulls at Azzi’s blanket, “so can you get up and make me waffles now?”

“Oh of course I can, your highness,” Azzi says dramatically, rising off the bed and letting Stephie climb onto her back, “would you like chocolate sauce or maple syrup with that your majesty?”

Stephie groans, burying her face in Azzi’s neck as if her mother has asked her to make the most difficult decision in the world. They settle into their morning routine, Stephie brushing her teeth as Azzi goes through her meticulous skin care regiment, occasionally dabbing little bits of this and that on her daughter’s skin, eliciting soft giggles from the little girl. It’s her favourite sound in the entire world. Azzi’s life isn’t perfect and there’s a million what if’s, one bigger than all of the others, that plague her mind sometimes but then she looks at Stephie, and she knows she wouldn’t change a single decision she’d made. Because they’ve all led to this moment, 9 am on a Friday, making waffle batter as her five-year old sits on the counter-top. It’s not everything but it’s enough. 

The frantic sound of a door being haphazardly slammed open has both Stephie and Azzi startled, until Colleen comes bursting through it like a tornado. 

“Oh thank god you’re awake,” Azzi’s best friend and manager says, out of breath, as she throws her car keys on the kitchen table.

“Hi Aunty Leen,” Stephie grins, waffle batter all over her mouth as she continues to dip and lick. 

“Hey kiddo,” Colleen ruffles Stephie’s hair before sitting down and staring pointedly up at Azzi, “you might wanna sit down for this. I have news.”

“Sorry to break it to you Collen but your new h-o-o-k-u-p-s are not sit-down-newsworthy,” Azzi smirks as Colleen scrunches up her nose trying to keep up with the spelling. 

“Oh trust me Az, I wish this was about my h-o-o- whatever,” Colleen takes a deep breath, “GSV is meeting with a potential point guard this week.”

“I would hope so. We really need a PG if we’re gonna redeem ourselves next season.”

“Right, well- you see- the thing is-”

“Today if you can please Colleen,” but there’s this knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Her sixth sense that’s been dormant for years is prickling and if she’s honest with herself, Azzi knows the next words that are about to come out of Colleen’s mouth before her best friend has even said them. 

“GSV wants to sign Paige,” Colleen says slowly. 

For a moment there’s silence and it’s ridiculous how all it takes is her name for Azzi’s mind to start flipping through pages and pages of a photo album she’s buried deep in the treasure chest of her mind. And for a second, she allows herself to get lost in a flood of everything we could have been until the sting of her hand slipping against the waffle iron jolts her back to reality. 

“Fuck,” she curses, immedaitely blowing at her fingers. It does nothing. She should know by now that when things burn, the flames might die out, but even the ashes remain on fire. 

“Bad word Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, unaware that her mother’s world has just been thrown off balance, “you owe me a kiss.”

She juts her cheek out and Azzi complies, trying to ignore the way her heart is desperately trying to beat out of her chest. It only calms down a little when Stephie presses a kiss of her own against Azzi’s cheek. 

“Sorry sweetheart, mama’s bad, Here can you mix this batter for me,” Azzi whispers to the younger girl, distracting her child with something to do, before rounding on her best friend, “she can’t come here.”

Colleen sighs, getting comfortable in her chair, “unfortunately I don’t think you have much choice.”

“The h-” Azzi cuts herself off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, “the haystack I don’t. This is my team and I don’t want her on it and I’m gonna walk into Ohemaa’s office and tell her exactly that.”

“Right and what exactly are you going to tell her when she asks you why you don’t want the best point guard in the league on your team Azzi? Your team, who mind you, lost in the finals last year because you didn’t have a point guard.”

Azzi flinches, gritting her teeth, both at the reminder of the loss that had happened not long enough ago and the fact that she couldn’t very well go into her boss’s office and blurt out the truth about a tragic relationship that had lived and died in secret. 

“It's a bad idea, the two of us- we’ll kill each other Colleen,” she struggles to string the words together, swallowing away the we already have that tastes like bile on the tip of her tongue. 

“Well you’re gonna have to learn not to,” Colleen says decisively, slipping from being Azzi’s best friend to her manager, “because you and I both know that if you want GSV to win another championship, you’re going to need her.”

“Are you my manager or GSV’s,” Azzi grunts, rubbing a tired hand against her forehead. 

Colleen smiles, “it’s the same thing isn’t it? What’s good for GSV is good for you. And we all know the two of you thrive on the court together.”

“We did. Past tense,” the admission falls like lava from Azzi’s lips, singeing the edges of her mouth as everything that she’d let simmer underneath threatens to bubble over, “there’s no guarantee we still will. Besides, it's all a moot point anyways because she would never agree.”

“Wouldn’t she?” Colleen cocks an eyebrow and Azzi groans at the rhetorical question, waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop, “because last I checked, she’s flying into San Francisco tomorrow.”

***

Paige has a problem. A really big fuck i really want to be a golden state valkyrie type of problem. She’d fought it every step of the way since she’d landed in San Francisco. Something about the city felt like it was bursting with basketball. The drive from the airport into Oakland had been bursting with murals of the Warriors and the Valkyries and for a split second, Paige can see her own face up on the billboards in a #5 Valkyries jersey. She just doesn’t know if it she can imagine herself next to the woman in #35 again, the woman whose smile in the posters is exactly as she remembers it to have been like when it was pressed into Paige’s skin every night almost a decade ago. 

On top of that, Omehaa Nyanin had seemed to know exactly what made Paige Bueckers, the basketball player, tick. Every argument Paige had about why she shouldn’t be Valkyrie, the woman had a counter ready, as if she’d already anticipated exactly what the blonde would say. The Valkyrie coach had been even more prepared with videos of their offensive and defensive sets and how they fit in tandem with Paige’s own skill set, all ready to show off the minute she had walked through the door. It should be the easiest decision in the world to let herself just belong to this world that is screaming her name but there’s a rope around her waist trying to tug her back to safety, trying to tug her away from dousing her still-open wounds in salt. 

Sighing, Paige lets herself into what she’s been told is called the “chill area”. Coach had offered to give her a tour of the facilities herself but Paige had declined, asking instead for her former UConn teammate and currently Valkyrie centre Jana El Alfy to do the honours, desperate for a familiar face who knew her history to bounce her thoughts off. It clearly wasn’t what the woman had wanted, but considering she was trying to convince Paige to choose them, whatever the blonde wanted, she was going to get. Massaging her temples at this irritating predicament she’s unwillingly found herself in, Paige’s head rolls back against the back of the chair, eyes closing involuntarily. 

“You’re not supposed to sleep in here,” a tiny voice echoes and Paige almost jumps out her skin in shock. 

“Fucking hell,” she curses as her eyes fall upon a little girl who seems to have materialized out of nowhere, “shit kid, you scared me.”

The child scrunches her nose and Paige feels her heart beat start to quicken as recognition settles in. She knows this little girl, has seen her on the sidelines at countless games and just like every other time, all she can think of is just how much this child resembles the future Paige had once believed would be hers. 

“You owe me three kisses,” the girl says matter-of-factly, her tone so similar to her mothers. It shouldn’t surprise Paige, not when the kid has those same dark curls, those same doey brown eyes, that same nose scrunch.

“I owe you three kisses?” Paige repeats. 

The girl rolls her eyes letting out a sigh far too grave for someone of her age, “yes. Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. You said three bad words, so you owe me three kisses.”

“And what does Mama say about asking strangers for kisses?”

“Stranger danger duh silly,” the child puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she looks at Paige with a far too familiar expression, “but you’re not a stranger.”

Paige purses her lips, “I’m not?”

“You’re Paige Bueckers. I’ve seen you at Mama’s games and Nanna and Pops have pictures of you in their house,” she stops, staring accusingly, “you don’t know who I am? Did you forget me?” 

And Paige doesn’t know what catches her off guard more. The casual mention of a house that used to feel like a home, of people that used to feel like family or the fact that, that puppy dog stare still has the exact same effect on her that it did years ago, even if the owner of said eyes is different.

“Of course I didn’t forget you. You’re Stephanie,” Paige says softly, trying to muster a smile as she adds the last name, “Stephanie Fudd.”

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” comes the immediate correction, “but everybody calls me Stephie,” tiny hands wrap around Paige’s neck as Stephie climbs on to her lap, tapping a finger on her left cheek as she smiles up at Paige, “so now can I have my kisses?”

Slowly, Paige presses three featherlight kisses against the little girl’s cheek and when Stephie squeals in delight, she wishes she could record it. Someone somewhere is playing a practical joke on her, Paige is sure of it. Because all of a sudden, all the little things she’s been collecting as to reasons why she might just like the Bay Area are starting to feel insignificant in front of this one, in front of Stephie and her innocent smile and the way her free hand is curled around Paige’s neck as if she’ll hold on forever. And the world is definitely playing a cruel prank on her because Stephie can’t be the reason Paige wants to stay, not when her mother’s the reason Paige needs to go.

“Your Mama just lets you run around the building like this?” Paige asks, trying to focus on Stephie instead of the turmoil in her brain. 

Stephie smiles sheepishly, “well I was ‘posed to stay with Aunty Leen while Mama talks to Miss O but then Aunty Leen got a call and I was bored so I came here.”

It doesn’t take Paige too long to decipher that Miss O must be Omehaa, but she’s stuck on who the hell Aunty Leen could be. She’s distinctly aware that her skin has no right to prickle, her hands have no right to sweat, her stomach has no right to knot, she has no right to feel anything when it comes to Stephie’s mother. But jealousy floods through her anyways. 

“Who is Aunty Leen?” Paige asks and then mentally slaps herself for it. 

“Aunty Leen is Aunty Leen,” Stephie explains unhelpfully, “so Miss Buecks-”

“Bueckers.”

Stephie shoots her an unimpressed look, “same things Miss Buecks. Are you here to join Mama’s team?”

“I-” Paige scratches her neck, only slightly taken aback by the direct question, “I don’t know.”

“You should,” Stephies says decisively, “Mama’s team is the best team in the world and Mama’s the best player in the whole wide world.”

Paige can’t help but smile at Stephie’s loyalty, “so why does her team need me then?”

Stephie looks contemplative for a moment before she uses her index finger to beckon Paige towards her, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course you can,” Paige says, leaning her ear down so Stephie can whisper into it.

“Don’t tell anyone but you’re my second favourite player.”

Paige swears her heart feels like it might burst. She’s been plenty of people’s favourite player and it’s always been nice to hear. But somehow, all of that seems to pale in comparison to being Stephie’s second favourite player. 

“Why’s that a secret?” she asks softly. 

“Cause you play for the wrong team silly. I can’t cheer for not Mama’s team,” Stephie huffs and then her eyes twinkle, “that’s why you should play for Mama’s team and then I can support you!”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Paige concedes, battling against the part of her brain that’s conjuring up an image of Stephie on the sidelines, cheering for Paige. 

“What’s log-ic?” Stephie asks. 

“Just means you’re a really smart kid,” Paige says, tapping the little girl’s nose. Her head is ringing with warning bells because this floaty feeling of belonging that’s encompassed in this little bubble she’s found herself in with Stephie is not one she’s allowed to feel, not now, not ever. 

“STEPHIE,” a shrill voice echoes outside and Stephie immediately dives into Paige’s neck, hiding herself in the crook of it as a frazzled woman bursts through the door. Her eyes soften when they fall on Paige and the blonde can’t help the caught expression that filters on her face. She knows she’s done nothing wrong; Stephie had been the one to find her after all. But perhaps it’s because she’s scared Colleen will take one look at her and see that tiny rebellious part of her that wants to fight what’s coming next, wants to fight the woman who’s going to take Stephie away from her. Paige isn’t one to get attached easily. It had only ever happened once before when she was fifteen and she’d just known that the girl shooting three’s next to her on the court was meant to be in her life in one way or another. But things had been simple then. Nothing was simple now. 

“Stephie,” Colleen says slowly, “what have I told you about running away from me?”

Stephie peeks her head out from Paige’s chest, a coy smirk playing on her lips, “not to do it? But you were boring me Aunty Leen.”

Oh that’s Aunty Leen, Paige thinks and she absolutely should not let out a sigh of relief at that but she does anyway. 

“I was on the phone for two minutes, Steph.”

“Two minutes too long,” Stephie counters and Paige has to stifle a laugh. 

Colleen rolls her eyes before holding out a hand, “well your Mama’s nearly done so we have to get going kiddo.”

“Can Miss Buecks come with us?” Stephie asks innocently and both Colleen and Paige freeze. 

“I don’t think-”

“I’m not sure-”

They both begin before their eyes flicker to each other and they can’t help but smile. It’s funny how relationships work, how one snapped string can cause a whole web to dissolve, no matter how hard everyone involved had tried to make it work. 

“I’m waiting to meet someone sweetheart so I can’t come right now,” Paige explains, “but maybe next time?”

And she shouldn’t add that last part, not when Paige should be devising an escape plan to never be in Oakland again instead of giving Stephie false hope about a next time that’s far from guaranteed. But it’s worth it for the way Stephie grins, staring at Paige like she’s given her the world’s greatest gift. 

Before Paige can say anything, the little girl presses her lips against Paige’s cheek and she swears she stops breathing for a moment, “I hope you choose to play for Mama’s team Miss Buecks. I think you’d look pretty in purple.”

***

May 2024

“I’ve figured it out,” Paige says triumphantly as she unceremoniously flops onto Azzi’s bed.

“Well hi to you too babe,” Azzi grumbles as she scoots over to give the other girl space. It’s unnecessary because the minute she does, Paige only moves closer, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s torso. 

“Hi baby,” she whispers before pressing a kiss against her girlfriend’s lips and pulling away so quickly that it leaves Azzi chasing after her. 

Azzi huffs and Paige laughs as she gets herself comfortable, resting her chest on the darker skinned girl's stomach, “I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“Our future,” Paige says triumphantly and Azzi can’t help but smile at the our as she intertwines their fingers together. It’s been years in the making and there’s nothing Azzi’s more confident in than those two words. Not everyone finds forever this young, but she’s certain they have because really she can’t imagine a life where they don’t belong to each other, a life where every night isn’t spent exactly like this. 

“And what do you see for our future,” Azzi asks softly. 

“Well it’s simple really,” Paige hums, “I’m going to get drafted wherever next year but the year after,  you’re definitely getting drafted to Valkyries-”

“I don’t know about definitely-”

“Azzi it’s rude to interrupt,” Paige sends her a chastising look. 

“Right of course,” Azzi nods solemnly, “continue.”

“As I was saying. You’re definitely getting drafted to the Valks and then we just have to wait for my rookie contract to be up and boom! I’ll join you in the Bay Area and we’ll be together forever and ever and ever.”

Azzi giggles, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair, “that simple huh?”

“That simple,” Paige promises, catching hold of one of Azzi’s hands to press a kiss to her palm, “it’s us Az, we’ll always be simple. Besides, I think we’d both look pretty good in purple.”

***

May 2033

The Valkyrie facilities are state of the art as expected. Jana is the perfect tour guide, pointing out everything she knows will garner Paige’s attention. As they step foot onto the practice court, Paige feels the overwhelming sense of this could be home that’s been dancing along with her every step of the way today. All the resolve she’d carried with her from Dallas is slowly crashing down and she can practically hear Talia’s sing-song i told you so voice echoing in her head. 

“You’d be really good here P,” Jana says excitedly, doing a little spin.

“You’d be lucky to have me,” Paige teases, as she picks up a basketball and subconsciously starts dribbling. 

Jana laughs, before a serious expression takes over, “we would. We got really close to winning it all last year and I think you might be our missing piece.”

“I want to,” Paige confesses, “I just-” her eyes flicker to the most recent MVP poster hanging on the walls, Jana’s gaze following hers, “I don’t know if I should. It’s so complicated.”

“Only if you let it be,” Jana says as she swipes the ball out Paige’s hands, “don’t think of everything else P, just- just think of the basketball. Because you know basketball-wise, this is the right move,” she passes the ball to Paige with a smirk, tilting her head towards the basket, “why not take a shot at it P?”

Paige shakes her head, palming the ball in her hands, “can’t believe my son’s all grown up.”

“Children of divorce have no choice but to grow up,” Jana says gravely and Paige laughs despite herself. 

Taking a deep breath, Paige raises the ball, arching her arms perfect as she shoots it. It barely touches the rim, before falling through the basket with swish. Hitting the floor with a quiet thud, the ball rolls until it’s stopped by someone's foot. Behind her, Paige can hear Jana cheering for the shot but she barely registers it, her entire attention on the new figure who’s just entered the court. It’s a tale as old as time. Azzi Fudd enters the room and suddenly everything else in Paige’s peripheral fades away, until it’s just her and the girl who still manages to steal her breath away. 

“Nice shot,” Azzi says, as she takes a slow step towards Paige. The air is thick with tension as if a time capsule has been opened and their past is leaking onto the pages of their present, staining it with marks of the you and me that we used to be. She should say something, even if it’s just an acknowledgement of the compliment but her tongue feels dry and she’s scared that if she opens her mouth, all the things she shouldn’t say will flood out instead. 

“Hey Az,” Jana’s eyes flicker awkwardly between her former teammates, “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“Had to talk to Omehaa about a couple of things,” Azzi says airly, eyes still fixated on Paige, “Jana can we have a minute?”

“You won’t kill each other will you?” Jana asks nervously.

Azzi laughs and even Paige cracks a small smile, “no Jana, we won’t kill each other.”

“Just making sure because last time-” Jana clamps a hand to her mouth as both Paige and Azzi flinch, “because nothing- you guys- you guys talk. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

She scampers away cursing to herself about putting her foot in her mouth and it would be amusing, if not for the fact that Paige can still barely breathe. They haven’t been alone in a room since last time and the air around them hangs heavy with the casings of the grenades they’d hurled at each other. 

“I’ve never seen you with braids this early in the year. They used to be your summer braids,” Paige remarks slowly. It’s a mundane change to notice but it’s significant of the larger truth, significant of all the time that’s passed, significant of the fact they don’t know these new versions of each other. 

“Yeah um, can’t really do summer braids with the W season,” Azzi chews at her lip.

“Right yeah- yeah that makes sense,” Paige nods. The awkwardness is killing her. She’d never been a fan of the silence, always more comfortable in the chaos but it had been different with Azzi. There had been something peaceful, something calming, about the quiet, when it was just the two of them, hands intertwined, eyes closed, as they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeat. 

“Paige-”

“Are you here to tell me not to come to GSV?” Paige blurts out, “because it’s- it’s okay if you are like I get it. I mean- the two of us- it’s just really fucking complicated so I get it- I get it if you don’t want me here.”

“I didn’t,” Azzi admits and it shouldn’t, but Paige feels it sting anyways, “you’re right. You and I- there’s just a lot there and it would- it would be really complicated and when Colleen first told me I- I was gonna go fight Omehaa and be like abso-fucking-lutely not but-” she sucks in a deep breath, “do you remember the promise we made to each other?”

“We made a lot of promises to each other,” Paige says, unable to keep the harshness out of her tone, “sorry I-”

“No you’re right,” Azzi swallows, “but I meant the promise we made when we first started dating. We said we’d never let the personal affect the professional. We promised each other that no matter what, we’d never let our relationship affect us on the court And I know- I know we’ve broken a lot of promises to each other,” they both let out a breath at that, “but I think- I think maybe we should try and keep this one.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need a championship contender and GSV needs a PG. Paige, I’m not here to convince you to not come to GSV, I’m here to ask you to join our team,” Azzi says resolutely. 

Paige isn’t easily shocked by anything really. She’s lived what she’d consider a pretty interesting life but of course if anyone was going to surprise her, it would be Azzi. Azzi, who has always been an exception to every rule. 

“You- you want me on your team?” Paige repeats, a little dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Azzi affirms, “you told me once that we could be the best backcourt duo in college basketball and we were, even if it was only for a year, we were and so now I’m telling you that I think we could be the best backcourt duo in the WNBA.”

Paige is silent for a second before a smirk takes over her features, “I think I did a lot more than tell you, pretty sure I had a whole video that proved it.”

“Are you asking me to make you a recruiting video?” Azzi raises an unamused eyebrow. 

Paige shrugs, “could be a nice gesture.”

“I have a five year old child, Bueckers. Trust me when I say I don’t have enough spare time for bullshit like that when you can easily just search up our highlights on youtube. Or just look in your trophy case if you’re looking for proof of how good we can be together,” Azzi says, a hint of that familiar sass bleeding into her spiel. 

“We really were good together weren’t we,” it spills out before Paige can stop it and it’s like they’re taking two steps back from each other, the friendly-ish banter of mere seconds ago being clouded by a past tainted by their mistakes, “on the court I mean. We were really good on the court.”

“Right,” Azzi averts her gaze, “just- just think about it okay? This doesn’t- it doesn’t have to be about you and me, not like that at least. It’s about basketball. GSV is the perfect fit for you and you’re the perfect fit for us. And deep down you must know that too, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe I’m just in it for the free trip to Cali,” Paige surmises. 

Azzi scoffs, “you and I both know you make too much money to need a free trip to Cali. If anything, the hotel they’ve given you is probably cheap for your standards.”

“Maybe I just like feeling important? I always did love people showering me with praise.” 

“You always did love the attention,” Azzi grins teasingly, “but there’s one thing you always loved more.”

You, Paige thinks but she can’t say that, “and what’s that?”

“Winning. That’s what this is about. You want another championship, so do we. Come help us and let us help you. It’s that simple.”

As Azzi turns to walk away, Paige can’t help but call out from behind her, “you know I think your daughter’s pitch might have been better.”

There’s a smile playing on Azzi’s lips when she turns her face back a little. It’s a new smile that Paige can only assume is Azzi’s Stephie smile,  “yeah? What did she say?”

“She told me she thinks I’d look good in purple,” Paige smirks. 

Azzi laughs, and it’s exactly like Paige remembers,  “it’s that simple huh?”

“It’s that simple.”

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 9 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, curses, Jungkook gets jealous, mentions of smoking cigarettes, explicit content: reader catches nabi and namjoon in the act, brat!OC, car blowjob, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, praising, hickey, mouth fucking, nipple play, fingering, protected sex

☆word count: 11.2k

☆a/n: new week new chapter!! and with this one, half of the fic is done (only half LMAO). Hope you guys enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, March 10th 

Jungkook’s chest moves up as he takes a deep breath, disrupting your quiet comfort.

Your eyes slide open to reveal his phone, and he’s scrolling through reels on Instagram, the sound off. You nuzzle your face further into his chest, and he holds you tighter for a few seconds.

“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” he says, his voice rumbling in his chest against your ear.

You sigh. Though it’s late evening and driving home has been draining - the sex you had when you finished eating dinner even more so - you don’t quite want to fall asleep right now. Maybe because tomorrow you’ll wake up and you’ll have to go back to class, to face Ria and Nabi and all your friends that know yet don’t know that something is going on between you and Jungkook.

“I was almost asleep,” you admit. “But I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“Why not?”

His attention is solely on you now, his phone forgotten, and so you raise your head to meet his tender gaze.

“I want to spend more time with you,” you whisper.

His lips stretch in the softest smile, his eyes sparkling with all the light in the universe. “I’ll still be here tomorrow, peach.”

You know it. You know you still have weeks with him, but tonight you feel like the end might be coming for you quicker than you want it to.

“And the day after?” you tease.

His arm tightens around you, and he moves so that he can peck your lips once. “I’ll still be right here.”

“In your bed?” you ask, faking surprise.

He laughs, a sound so sweet and so intoxicating to your senses. “Yep. With you in it.”

“Damn, JK, you’ve got plans for us, mmh?”

He just grins in reply, and your heart flutters in your chest as you put your head back on his own chest.

“So if you want to fall asleep…” he trails off, hugging you tighter for a few seconds before pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Feel free.”

You take a deep breath, nodding as you close your eyes, focusing on the steady beats of his heart. You wonder, does he know your heart has synced with his?

Does he know you’re afraid he’ll rip your beating heart from your chest?

You’ve been thinking. All day you’ve been thinking, and you haven’t been able to ask him. Haven’t been able to have the conversation he said you could have today - about his family, about the shitshow of the engagement party. 

All you’ve been able to do today is exchange pleasantries, stolen glances and holding hands. And you reckon, it should be enough.

Yet the reason why you can’t sleep is because you want to know. Need to know if he truly is set to marry someone else.

“By the way,” Jungkook lets out after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “Tae texted me while you were in the shower.”

“Mmh?” you hum.

“He wanted me to tell you to reply to his texts,” Jungkook concludes. “And you should, before he grows suspicious.”

“He’s suspicious because Jimin said we have something going on after you hosted your friends here the other day.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, and he chuckles lightly. “I mean, he isn’t wrong.”

He isn’t, and you hate that he isn’t. You don’t want Taehyung to know, you don’t want your brother to have the power to take this away from you. Not when you already know life will take it from you by itself.

“I still don’t want him to know,” you admit with a small voice. “He’d hate you.”

Jungkook presses a kiss on the top of your head again. “Then we don’t tell him. You decide.”

You don’t like that he’s giving you this power, but yet again it’s better than when he wanted to pretend nothing had happened after the power outage. It’s progress, steps in the right direction, but you don’t even know if you’re walking the same path as him.

Jungkook has been great to you, he really has, but you haven’t done relationships before.

Will this time around be any different?

“Okay,” you let out. You press a kiss on the warm skin of his chest, before resting your head on it again. “Besides…” you trail off, and your heart squeezes in your chest.

Because it’s time. You need to talk to him about what his mother said, no matter how much it might hurt.

“Besides?” Jungkook repeats.

“Your mother mentioned something to me yesterday,” you admit.

You hear his heartbeat picking up. “What did she say?”

You worry at your bottom lip, take a few deep breaths in to gather courage. “That you’re supposed to marry someone?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply right away. You’re pretty sure you also hear his heart entirely stopping in his chest, but you think that might be your imagination.

“That’s hilarious,” he deadpans a few seconds later, and he lets out a disbelieved chuckle. “I’m not going to marry anyone.”

You raise your head from his chest, seeking the truth in his gaze. And he doesn’t look like he’s lying, not even a little bit. Especially not as he cups your cheek, gently running his thumb on your skin. 

“She said she and your dad spoke to another family,” you explain.

He plays with his piercings, raising an eyebrow. “I’d assume that they mean Gabrielle?”

You’ve never heard that name before, and you offer him a confused look. 

“Or not,” he adds after a few seconds, his brow creasing.

“Who’s Gabrielle?” you ask, and the doubt that seeps through you tastes far too vile.

“A friend from high school,” Jungkook replies immediately. “No one to worry about. Our families were always friends and my parents are obsessed with her.”

It stings. It stings far more than it should - Jungkook’s parents didn’t even give you a chance. Yet they’re obsessed with this Gabrielle, this girl from Jungkook’s past. Your heart sinks in your chest, and you look away from him, unable to hold his gaze.

“Ah,” you flatly let out.

“I don’t talk to her anymore,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, forcing you to look at him again with his firm hold on your cheek. “Last news I had of her was that she was going to study somewhere in Europe.”

You worry at your bottom lip, and Jungkook is quick to pull it from your teeth with his thumb. 

“I promise,” he adds. “She’s nothing to worry about. My parents can’t force me to marry her anyway.”

You take a deep breath and then nod once. The ache in your chest barely eases, but you can see that Jungkook is trying his best. There’s something so endearing about it that you feel yourself soften, and you immediately lean in to kiss him.

The kiss is soft. The kiss is a fire in the hearth during a cold winter evening. It’s a warm summer breeze and a cup of tea on a rainy day. It’s comfort and that, more than anything, finally soothes the ache away. It helps that Jungkook swipes your bottom lip with his tongue, and you sigh as you give him access, your tongues tangling a second later.

Hell, you think you might be able to go for another round. But Jungkook pulls away, lips glistening from your ministrations.

“And about my family,” he says. His voice is breathy, and you feel powerful for the effect you have on him. Though he clears his throat, and the breathiness is gone when he adds, “They’re dicks. All of them. I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, and you mean it. “I was mostly just taken aback.”

He nods, adding, “I don’t get along with them well. They wanted me to take over the family business with Junghyun, but I left to study here. My father has never forgiven me, and my mother hates me for the tattoos and piercings.”

You don’t know what to reply. You feel horrible for him, for the smiling boy in the frame on his bedside table. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay.” He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I got used to it. I’ve found that your friends are your true family anyway.”

His friends. Taehyung. Your brother. The one thing that will make it so you and Jungkook can’t actually be together, ever.

“And now I’ve got you too so, who cares what my family thinks?”

You know he does. Somewhere in the depths of his eyes you see the kid that wished his family loved him, wished he fit in. You wonder how his mother could hate him - he was adorable, endearing with that wide bunny grin of his, even when he was just a kid.

“I guess no one cares,” you reply after a few seconds of silence.

He offers you a reassuring smile. “Told you so.” He pecks your lips again, and then nestles his head back against his pillow. “We should go to bed, it’s getting late.”

“I just have one last question,” you say as you lay your head back on his chest, your gaze directed towards the frame of him and Junghyun. “Who did you go to Disney with?”

Jungkook follows your line of gaze. “Oh.” The silence that follows is heavy, sad. “Our nanny. She practically raised us.”

That makes sense. You don’t think Jungkook would have turned out to be such a gentle, sweet person if he’d been raised by his parents. But then again, he does act like an asshole a lot, and projects that overly cocky and confident aura most of the time. You’ve only recently started seeing this soft part of him.

“She sounds like a great person,” you say.

Jungkook tightens his hold on you. “She was. The best, honestly.”

You smile sadly, your heart straining at the ache in his voice. “Was?”

“Yeah.” He sighs deeply. “She passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shrugs, which proves to be awkward in this position. “It’s not your fault. Nothing to be sorry about.”

Silence falls in the room, and you hold Jungkook a little tighter. As if that will prevent him from breaking, from falling away from you in the inevitability of the future.

“I wish I’d been around then,” you add. “So that I could be there for you.”

“Peach…”

“I’m serious.”

You hear him sniffle, the only indication that he’s getting emotional. And it hits you like a brick to the face - you want to protect this man, at all costs. 

You never want Jungkook to feel sad.

“You’re amazing, you know that, right?” he says after a few seconds. “Like… I’m really lucky.”

“And so am I,” you softly reply. “Luckiest girl in the world.”

He chuckles, his voice still raw with emotion when he says, “You know you’ll have to share a bed with me every night now, right?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, and you don’t balk at the sight of the silver lining his eyes. “A dream come true, if I’m honest.”

He smiles, a sad, sad smile that makes you shift so that you’re lying next to him. You open your arms, and he immediately understands what you want, moving until he’s nestled in your embrace. You run a soothing hand on his back, not caring that he’s practically buried his face in your breasts. Especially not when, five minutes later, his breathing evens out, and he starts emitting those soft snores you find oh so adorable.

He’s left the red LED lights on, and you pat the bed behind him, looking for his phone. He whines against you, though he doesn’t say anything when you finally find his phone. You direct it towards his face to open it, and then search for the app to turn off the lights. 

Once the lights are off, you put his phone away, wrapping your arm around him again, holding him close.

You don’t let go, not even when you, too, fall asleep.

Friday, March 15th 

There’s something about Ria and tequila shots that you can’t quite understand. 

You’re at the girls’ dorm, getting ready for the party tonight. It’s hosted at a frat house, which means your shoes will most likely be ruined by the end of the evening. You don’t really care - you put on an old pair of sneakers that you use specifically for these types of occasions.

But yes, Ria and tequila create something you can’t comprehend. She’s already taken four shots, while you’re on your second and Nabi hesitantly took one, and you know she’s going to be wild tonight.

You think you know why - a certain Kim Seokjin is supposed to be in attendance, and though Ria claims she really doesn’t like him, she’s curled her hair and donned her makeup to perfection for the occasion.

And she’s also visibly trying to get shitfaced, and so you steal the tequila bottle from her hands.

“Hey!” she complains. “Give that back.”

You take a swig from the bottle, immediately regretting your decision. It makes your friends laugh though, and it distracts Ria long enough so that you can put the cap back on the bottle, and you hide it behind you where you’re sitting on the floor of their dorm, in between their beds.

“Is Namjoon going to be there?” you ask Nabi, trying to distract Ria further.

“Yeah, of course! Hobi and Yoongi also, apparently,” Nabi answers. “What about Jungkook?”

You’re happy you’re the type to flush red with alcohol, otherwise your two friends would have a visual proof of the embarrassment that comes with Jungkook being mentioned around you. It’s stupid - you’re an adult, but for some reason the thought of Jungkook makes you all giddy, like you have a school crush on him. 

It’s a feeling you’ve been clinging to this week, despite every odd against you two working out in the long term.

“I think so,” you reply, even though you know for a fact that the answer is yes and that he’s going to be driving you home.

He’s told you so in whispers against your skin last night, when he finished fucking your brains out.

“You think so, or you know?” Ria teases, a smirk on  her lips. “You can pretend we haven’t seen him obsessing over you every time we went to the library this week, but we’re not going to be fooled.”

They do have a point. Indeed, the two times you’ve gone to the library with the girls, Jungkook kept popping in, bringing you snacks or just coming in to chat for a little while. The girls found it funny, and you just found it embarrassing.

Not that Jeon Jungkook is embarrassing. It’s rather the fact that it’s led to thorough interrogations, and you don’t like talking about your relationship with him when he’s your brother’s best friend, and speaking to the wrong person could lead to Taehyung learning about everything.

So you’ve been trying to keep the relationship a secret as best as you can, giving vague answers to the girl and saying that you only went to New York with him because you’re friends, and Jimin wasn’t available to accompany him.

You hid the fact that he’s rich from everyone. Hid the Yves St-Laurent dress in the back of your closet, to only be looked upon whenever you need to remind yourself that the weekend wasn’t a creation of your brain.

So far, you didn’t need to be reminded. Not when Jungkook has been acting so affectionate, cooking you meals and sitting with you when you’re working on reports or studying for your classes. 

“Jungkook is not obsessed with me,” you drawl, even though you think he might be, to the extent that Jeon Jungkook can be obsessed with someone. “He’s just a good friend.”

“You fuck all your good friends?” Ria teases, wiggling her brows.

You punch her in the shoulder, and she bursts into a fit of giggles. “I’m not fucking him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ria says.

“You’ve been glowy since last weekend,” Nabi points out, an innocent smile on display.

You fake-glare at her, but to your relief, a knock sounds at the door, effectively distracting your friends.

It’s Namjoon, as revealed when Ria opens the door, and he steps in with a six-pack of beer, offering you a polite nod as Nabi gets up to hug him. They share a quick kiss, and you fake-gag, earning you a loud laugh from Ria that makes Nabi turn beat red.

“Shut up,” Nabi grumbles through her teeth as she faces you again, and she pulls Namjoon by the hand to sit on her bed.

You remain on the floor with Ria, and she’s successfully stolen the tequila bottle again. She refills the empty shot glasses, handing one to Namjoon and one to you. She gives the last one to Nabi, and she raises the bottle for you all to clink glasses with her, and a second later, the alcohol is burning down your throat.

You’re effectively drunk by the time you make it to the party. Ria is worse than you, while Nabi remains almost sober from all the shots she dodged and handed her boyfriend instead. Namjoon’s cheeks are flushed red, much like yours, and you meet up with Yoongi and Hoseok, where they stand near the wall, faces downcast.

“Hey boys!” you greet them. 

You throw an arm around their shoulders, and Hoseok quickly moves away while Yoongi remains frozen in his spot, arms folded on his chest. It’s sobering, a little, and you furrow your brow as you look between them.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

Hoseok quickly glances at the rest of your friends as they gather around you before saying, “No. How was pre-drink?”

You immediately know something is up. You feel it in the way Yoongi tenses under your arm, and though he hates being touched, he doesn’t push you away. You cock an eyebrow at Hoseok questioningly, but he only shrugs and then asks Namjoon, “Want to team up on beer pong?”

A moment later, they’re walking away, Nabi in tow, and you motion to Ria to follow them. She takes the cue, though the second she turns around, Kim Seokjin appears, and they stay right there, speaking in each other’s ear.

Once you’re convinced they won’t hear you, you let go of Yoongi, turning to face him. “Is something wrong?” you ask again.

He clenches his jaw, still avoiding your gaze. His arms tighten around him, and he looks like he’s trying to hold himself together, yet barely succeeds.

“Hobi just told me he’s switching colleges next semester.”

You widen your gaze. “What?”

Yoongi chuckles, but it’s entirely void of any joy. “You heard me right.”

“Why?”

Yoongi meets your gaze, his eyes flaming with barely disguised anger and hurt. “I don’t know.”

You wince, nose scrunching up. “I…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yoongi says before you’re able to finish your sentence, which is a good thing considering you had no idea what to say. “I should have seen it coming.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi blinks away some tears, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why you care. You were fucking him like a month ago.”

In truth, a month ago you were pretending the world didn’t exist with Jungkook, as it was the power outage, but you refrain from saying anything. You highly doubt that that’s what Yoongi needs to hear right now.

“Yeah, and I don’t think I should have,” you say.

“Why?” Yoongi asks, sounding offended.

You shrug. “Because you care about him and it was hurting you.”

Yoongi presses his lips in a thin line, nodding once. He doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t really expect him to. Not when Hoseok clearly just broke his heart.

“You know what you need?” you say, pulling his arms away from his chest so that you can hook arm with him.

“What?” Yoongi asks, following you as you pull him through the crowd.

“A drink.”

He chuckles. He doesn’t look quite as sad as he did a second ago, and you reckon that it’s a win. 

You make it your mission to cheer Yoongi up tonight, making sure he always has a drink in hand. You also stay by his side, playing beer pong with him when Ria begs you to play. She’s accompanied by Seokjin, who’s got far more aim than you do, but Yoongi is a decent player. It compensates for a while, until Hoseok appears in the vicinity of the table, and Yoongi tenses so much he looks like he’s turning to stone. You try to take over then, only to be solidly defeated by Seokjin who smiles at Ria as she high-fives him with a wide grin on her lips.

You’ve never seen her smiling so wide with a guy before, and you have to keep your own grin in at the sight, not wanting to upset Yoongi. Instead, you hook arm with him again, pulling him towards the backyard. He begrudgingly follows, though he visibly relaxes the second you’re outside, the cold air a stark contrast from the hot atmosphere inside.

“All good?” you ask.

“Why are you doing this?”

You shrug your shoulders. “You’re a friend,” you offer as an explanation. “The least I can do is be there for you right now.”

“Are we friends?” he queries. He sounds sad again, and you hate it.

“Of course we are! If we weren’t before, we are now.” You try to sound reassuring, and when you see the smile tickling the corner of his lips, you think it’s working. “If you want, we can go sit somewhere quiet upstairs to talk shit about Hobi.”

“Honestly, that sounds like a dream,” Yoongi agrees.

You laugh, and a second later you walk back into the house, Yoongi in tow. The first thing you see as you walk in is Jimin, and you instinctively scan the room, your eyes falling on Jungkook next. It’s like everyone disappears for a few seconds, and your lips stretch in a soft smile he immediately reciprocates, though it slightly falls when he sees Yoongi behind you.

You glance at Yoongi, and he raises his eyebrows in question. You motion towards Jungkook, leaning closer to Yoongi to say, “Just give me a second, I want to talk to my friend.”

He nods, and ends up following you as you walk towards Jungkook, who’s standing with Jimin, Sera, Lisa and some of their other friends you don’t remember the name of.

“Hey,” you greet everyone as you stop next to them.

Your fingers itch to touch Jungkook, but you clench your fist, refraining from doing so.

A chorus of heys reply to you, and you awkwardly stand there for a few seconds before they resume their conversation as if you haven’t interrupted. You feel bad for a few seconds until Jungkook leans in closer to you.

“Who’s that guy?” he asks.

You purse your lips, holding a laugh in. “A friend. He’s going through a breakup?” At least you think that’s the best way to refer to it. “I’m trying to be there for him.”

Jungkook’s gaze hardens as he clenches his jaw, a muscle feathering over his skin. There’s something infinitely attractive about the sight - and infinitely wrong about you to find it attractive to begin with - and you already can’t wait for the evening to end so that you can tangle in bed with him.

“A friend?” Jungkook repeats.

“Are you jealous?” you tease, and Jungkook sends a cautious glance around.

But no one is watching you besides Yoongi, and you know Yoongi would never say anything.

“Should I be?” Jungkook says, frowning slightly.

You wink at him. “Not at all. His breakup is with a guy so… I fear I’m lacking a certain part of my body for him to find me attractive.”

“Could be bi,” Jungkook points out.

“Could be.” You shrug, and then you gently brush your hand on the back of his. “I’ll come find you when it’s time to leave?”

He nods, glancing at Yoongi. You want to reach for him, to hold him close and reassure him that he’s got nothing to worry about, but Jimin is now watching again, so you only step away from Jungkook, re-establishing a safe distance between the two of you.

“Yeah, let me know when you want to go home,” Jungkook replies.

You smile, nodding once before wishing him a good evening. You feel his gaze burning on the back of your head as you walk away, Yoongi following you, and you can’t resist but look over your shoulder when you’re about to leave the room to head into the hall leading to the staircase. Your gazes connect despite the crowd, and your heartbeat picks up in your chest, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

“I’ll grab a beer before we go up,” Yoongi suggests, snapping you out of the moment.

You blink a few times, before nodding your head. “Good idea. I’ll take one too.”

You pit stop at the table where the drinks are, and you end up making gin and tonics since they’ve run out of beer. Yoongi complains he doesn’t like it, but you tell him alcohol is alcohol, to which he offers you a side-eye that has you burst out laughing.

A moment later you’re on your way up the stairs. To outside eyes, you wonder what it looks like - do people think you’re looking for a place to hide so that you can fuck? It’s a funny thought, and you laugh some more as you reach the second floor, and notice the four people sitting on the floor as they talk. They barely look at you as you walk in front of them, heading for a door at the end of the corridor.

Yoongi steps in front of you as you near the door, hand extended to open it. The doorknob turns and he pushes it open, only to be met by an all-too familiar high-pitched shriek. A look over Yoongi’s shoulder reveals Nabi, butt ass naked, sitting on the counter with Namjoon between her legs.

“Oh shit!” Yoongi lets out, yet he freezes, not closing the door.

“Oh my God,” you echo and Nabi flushes so deep red you think she’ll combust.

“Close the door, idiots,” Namjoon grits through his teeth.

Yoongi’s gaze widens, and he immediately slams the door shut. His cheeks are dusted with pink, and you exchange one glance that makes you burst out laughing, wheezing and blinking back tears. You’ve never seen Yoongi laughing like that, which only spurs you on more, until he grabs your hand and tugs you into a bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says once your laughter finally recedes.

You nod, wiping the tear that escaped the confines of your eyes. “I know, holy shit. I knew they were getting it on but I didn’t think Nabi would do it at a party.”

“Didn’t expect that of Joon either,” Yoongi admits, and he glances in the general direction of the bathroom. “He used to be such a nerd, and now he’s fucking a girl at a party.”

“Good for him,” you say, raising your glass. Yoongi doesn’t echo the sentiment, instead looking troubled. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

Yoongi shrugs, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor, his back against the door. You follow him, sitting against a dresser while you wait for him to talk.

“I’m afraid that he might be jumping into a relationship too quickly after…” Yoongi trails off. “After Julia.”

Your brow creases for a few seconds until you figure, “His ex?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah. They were together for a long time, and he loved her a lot,” Yoongi reveals.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. “You think Nabi might just be a rebound.”

“Listen,” Yoongi lets out. “I saw him during Frosh week. I saw him starting to want to go to parties last semester. I’m not saying it’s because of Nabi…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders again before taking a sip of his drink that makes him scrunch up his nose in disgust. “I don’t know why I grabbed that, it’s disgusting.”

“Hey, gin and tonics are good!”

He throws you a no-bullshit look, and then returns to the conversation at hand. “So yeah, he’s been different where Nabi is implied, but he was with Julia for five years. It’s bound to have had an impact on him.”

Yoongi isn’t wrong, and you hate that he isn’t. You don’t want Nabi to be set up for heartbreak.

“If he hurts Nabi…” you trail off.

Yoongi snorts, the smile he offers you a lot warmer than any you’ve ever seen on his features before. “You’re a good friend, aren’t you?”

You hold his gaze, shrugging your shoulders. “I try to be. I’d do anything for my friends.”

Yoongi raises his solo cup, his lips still curved upwards. “Then, I’m glad to count you as a friend.”

You clink glasses, taking a long sip from your gin and tonic that makes your head buzz even more than it already was. Silence reigns on the room for a moment, a comfortable silence that makes you look around, scanning your environment. Apart from the mattress on the floor and a few discarded pieces of clothing, the bedroom is empty. More clothes overflow from the closet though, as if whoever’s room this is just quickly shoved everything in there before the party.

“What about you?” Yoongi asks then.

You frown quizzically, facing him. “What about me?”

“Jungkook.”

Your throat goes dry, and you hide your blush behind a long sip of your drink. “What about him?”

“Hobi mentioned that something is going on between you guys?”

You’ll kill him. You’ll eviscerate Jeong Hoseok the moment you have the opportunity to.

“Not really,” you lie, though the lie weighs heavy on your shoulders.

Obviously, Yoongi sees right through you, saying, “I saw how you guys looked at each other earlier. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Your cheeks burn as you recall when you spoke to Jungkook. You didn’t feel like you were looking at him a certain way, but then again he has a tendency to steal your attention no matter where you are, so maybe Yoongi is onto something.

“I’m not trying to,” you say, taking a deep breath to chase away the lingering heaviness from the lie. “He’s my brother’s best friend.”

“Your brother, who’s conveniently on a semester abroad right now.”

You narrow your gaze at Yoongi, as if glaring at him. “It’s not convenient. I wish he’d never gone.”

This lie tastes even worse than the previous, and you chase its aftertaste with your drink.

“Right. And then you’d never have fucked his best friend.”

You close your eyes, rubbing a hand on your forehead. “It’s such a mess, Yoongi.”

He snorts in his red solo cup. “Why though?”

“Taehyung can’t know.”

“Why?” Yoongi asks again. “You’re adults.”

“Tae doesn’t think that way,” you admit, and a familiar annoyance flashes through you. “He’s always been overbearing. Like, when I was in highschool he scared all the guys away whenever they tried to speak to me.” Not that you would have dated any of them anyway, but Yoongi doesn’t need to know that. “It was annoying. And now, it’s even worse because JK’s his friend.”

“Or maybe he’ll trust his friend to treat you right, no?”

You wish it were that easy. You wish you lived in the utopia Yoongi’s composing right now, but you know reality to be far crueller than that. 

“Trust Jungkook?”

Yoongi winces, and you hate the drop of doubt it brings back to you. 

It’s the same doubt that had invaded you because of Colton, because of Lisa and Shelly. But then again, you’ve seen Jungkook last weekend. You were there all week with him: you want to believe he’s changed, and for the better.

But would Taehyung see that?

“Anyways,” you say before Yoongi’s able to add anything else. “We were supposed to talk shit about Hobi.”

Yoongi visibly deflates, his eyes dropping to his solo cup as he spins the liquid in it, watching it slosh around. “Yeah.”

“When did he tell you he’s switching colleges?” you ask, as gently as you can.

“Right before you guys got here.”

Damn. You’re friends with Hoseok too, you really are, but you reckon it’s selfish to do something like that to someone at a party when they can’t really do anything. It explains the awkwardness when you arrived though, and for some reason you’re happy you stuck to Yoongi’s side and not Hoseok’s.

You don’t think Hoseok would deserve someone comforting him right now.

“That’s dickish,” you say, and you mean it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s coming out of nowhere too,” Yoongi adds. He sighs, resting his head against the door. “He seemed to say that it was to follow a professor for an internship but still… It’s weird, no?”

“Where is he going?” you ask.

“He didn’t tell me. Just said that it was far.”

You wince. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi shrugs, and he downs his glass, gagging after he’s swallowed. “This is really bad alcohol.”

It’s a bad attempt at switching subjects, and you offer Yoongi a small smile you hope is comforting. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days,” Yoongi replies, and he sounds infinitely tired. “But thank you for trying to cheer me up tonight. I really appreciate it.”

Your smile is easy, warm this time. “Of course. Anytime.”

You end up staying in that small, impersonal bedroom for a while, the party long forgotten as you chat about everything and nothing. You hadn’t realized before, but you have more in common with Yoongi than you previously thought. You had similar circumstances growing up - that is, fathers leaving when you were too young to even remember them, and older brothers that tried to compensate.

Yoongi tells you about high school, about the first girl he dated. That’s how you learn that he’s bi, and not gay, and you beat yourself up mentally because now you feel like you’ve lied to Jungkook.

Not that it matters - Yoongi has the potential to be a good friend, but he’s not Jungkook.

You don’t know what to make of the thought, so you push it far, far back in your mind, until its whisper is easily ignorable.

“Shit,” Yoongi lets out a while later as he pulls his phone out of his pockets. “We’ve been in here for two hours.”

You widen your gaze, pulling your phone out as well. Your pulse skyrockets when you notice Jungkook tried to call you twice, leaving you a text that makes you hold in a small smile.

[11:46 pm] JK: where are you [11:46 pm] JK: :(

It’s almost thirty minutes later, but you immediately swipe your phone open to reply.

[12:12 am] You: just chilling with yoongi. wanna head home soon?

“I think I’ll go,” Yoongi says, and you look up from your phone to meet his gaze. “I’ve got lots of stuff to do tomorrow.”

You nod. “We should study together Sunday,” you reply as you both push up to your feet, stretching. “I have a lab report to finish.”

Yoongi agrees, and a second later you’re stepping out of the room. You earn a curious look from three girls sitting on the floor near the bathroom, and you offer them a tight-lipped smile as you pass them on your way to the stairs. 

The music is still loud when you get to the floor level, people dancing and indulging in alcohol and partying like only college kids know how to do. Part of you still wants to revel, to enjoy the night, but your break away from the party with Yoongi has tired you, and you want to head home.

And maybe part of you wants to head home because it means spending time with Jungkook, but you’d never admit it to anyone.

You hug Yoongi goodbye in the middle of the living room, and then you make your way to the kitchen, hoping to find Jungkook there. You don’t find him, but Ria, Seokjin, Namjoon and Nabi are there, and you inform them that Yoongi left.

“What were you guys doing?” Nabi asks, and you immediately know she’s inebriated by the slur in her speech. “Why were you trying to go to the bathroom?”

A slight blush covers Namjoon’s cheeks as you burst out laughing. “What were you guys doing in the bathroom, mmh?” you counter-back.

Ria bursts out laughing, and Seokjin holds in a laugh, his plump lips curving upwards at the corner as Nabi makes a sound you can’t quite interpret. It just makes you laugh, and she’s quick to follow with, “What about it?”

“Nothing,” you say, shrugging your shoulders innocently. “Just an image I’ll never be able to get out of my mind.”

“Gosh,” Namjoon lets out, and you all laugh again.

“Anyways, I was just cheering Yoongi up,” you say after that, and you’re aware it sounds a little suspicious when four pairs of eyes turn to look at you, eyebrows almost touching. “We talked, that’s it,” you add, raising your hands in defence. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Hobi got pissed when he learned you guys were hiding somewhere together and he dipped,” Ria reveals. “I think you made him jealous.”

“Oof.” You worry at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “Shit, I’m too sober for this.”

For this being lying to your friends, because you know damn well that Hoseok might indeed be jealous of you, but for spending time with Yoongi. Not the other way around. Your friends don’t know though, so you let Ria tug you to the bar, where the amount of alcohol has drastically diminished since the last time you were here.

You end up throwing back shots with your friend, and she inevitably tugs you on the dancefloor next, and you sway to the beat along with her for a while, until you once more feel buzzed with alcohol.

That’s where Jeon Jungkook finds you, arm carelessly wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you in, startling you.

“Shit,” you say in his face.

“You don’t answer your phone, mmh?” he lets out.

You think you smell cigarette smoke on his breath, but you’re too drunk from his proximity to really be able to tell. He makes your thoughts swim after all, far too much for you to think about anything other than the fact that he’s close enough you could kiss him, here in the middle of a crowded room.

Would people cheer for you guys, or would you earn snickers? You think it’d be the latter option, considering that he’s Taehyung’s friend, but you don’t care.

“Hey you,” you purr, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Hey,” he replies.

You can’t help the soft smile that overtakes your features, and he immediately melts, echoing it. 

“Want to head home?” you ask him.

Someone loudly clears their throat, and you jump out of Jungkook’s arms, cheeks turning fully red. Ria is watching with a wide grin, and she wiggles her eyebrows when you meet her gaze.

“Fuck off,” you tell her, your whole face burning, and she just laughs at your expense as you walk away, Jungkook in tow.

You make it all the way to the room where you’ve left your coat, grabbing it as Jungkook looks around for his, and you’re outside before he meets you, a confused look on his features.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, his breath clouding in front of his face.

You watch as it lifts in the air slowly before vanishing in a gust of wind.

“What?” you let out. “No? Why would I be?”

“You ran out like I did something wrong,” he answers, motioning over his shoulder.

You melt. You melt like ice cream on a hot summer day, dripping to the floor with endearment for the man in front of you. 

“No, I ran because Ria always puts her nose in stuff she shouldn’t,” you say. You look around, fingers itching to reach for him, but people are smoking closer to the street, and you think you recognize some of his friends in the group.

“You were being obvious, peach,” Jungkook teases, and he winks at you, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat as he walks down the three steps from the porch to the lawn. 

You catch up to him quickly as he heads towards the group, wishing everyone good night. Lisa stares at you as you stand next to Jungkook, and your cheeks heat up once more under that watchful gaze.

Luckily enough for you, Jungkook says his goodbyes quickly, and you’re walking away under a minute later, heading to where he parked his car.

“How come you’re always driving to parties now?” you ask Jungkook. “You could afford an Uber.”

He glances at you, shrugging sheepishly. “Then I wouldn’t have a reason to drive you home.”

“Please,” you let out, rolling your eyes. “We could grab an Uber home together. That way you’d be able to drink.”

He looks behind you, making sure you’re not in sight from the frat house anymore, and then he pulls one of his hands out of his coat, grabbing yours. His hand is warm, large, and it engulfs your own hand easily as he tugs you closer.

“You might hate me for this,” Jungkook starts, “but I promised your brother I’d make sure you’re okay during parties this semester.”

This time, you roll your eyes so far back that you think they might get stuck. “He did not ask that of you.”

“He did,” Jungkook insists.

“That’s bullshit.” You sigh loudly, slightly shaking your head. “Even when he’s gone he’s still annoying.”

Jungkook laughs, the sound like a warm blanket wrapped around you. “But yeah, he just asked me to make sure you’re okay, and I got used to not drinking as much at parties.”

“On behalf of Taehyung, I’m sorry.”

He tugs you even closer, and you trip on a crack in the sidewalk. He catches you before you fall, hands finding your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he says. “And don’t apologize, I really don’t mind.” 

You pout, but you fall silent, just enjoying the feel of Jungkook’s hand in yours. You reach his car a few minutes later and, ever so the gentleman, Jungkook holds the door open for you.

You cock an eyebrow, looking back at him with a small smile on your lips as you’re about to get in. “You only opened the door for me ‘cause you want to look at my ass, didn’t you?” you tease.

He laughs, loud and clear, before pushing you in. “Shut up, peach.”

A smile tickles the corner of your lips, like it permanently seems to do when it comes to Jungkook, and then you sit in the car. He shuts the door before making his way to the driver’s side, and a second later, he’s sliding in, offering you a smirk that makes your cheeks burn.

“What?” you let out.

“So what if I just want to look at your ass?” he says, turning the key in the engine. The car purrs to life as Jungkook adds, “You’ve got a really nice ass, especially in those pants.”

You feel all warm and tingly inside, and you roll your eyes as you look away from him. It only makes him chuckle, and then he starts driving, heading towards the home you share. The first minute is spent in silence, the music on the radio low, and you only realize that Jungkook has something on his mind when you glance at him to see him pulling on his piercings with his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” you immediately ask.

“You were with that guy for a long time,” he answers, and his eyes dart to you before returning to the street.

“Yoongi?” you say, though you obviously know that he means Yoongi. “Yeah, he’s a friend.”

“A friend?” Jungkook echoes. 

You hum, nodding your head. “He’s actually fucking Hobi so…”

Jungkook’s gaze widens, and he glances at you. “Hobi? Isn’t that the guy you were fucking?”

“He was,” you say, and you laugh at his expression, dead in the middle of jealousy and surprise. It’s a funny look on his features, though the second you laugh, it melts away, replaced by tender endearment. “He actually started fucking Yoongi during the power outage, and we ended things there.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but you see a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw. He looks angry, and could he even be… jealous?

“Are you jealous?” you ask, unable to keep the amusement from your voice.

“I’m not,” Jungkook says, voice so stern you know for a fact that he definitely is jealous.

“You are!” you insist, and you burst out laughing. “Jeon Jungkook is jealous because I used to fuck someone else.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook repeats, louder this time. “I’m not fucking jealous.”

You smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief, and you pat his thigh. “Don’t worry. You’re the only one I want to fuck now.”

“Is that why you spent your evening locked up in a bedroom with some other guy?” he asks, and you hear the jealousy in his voice, clear as day this time. 

“Gosh, JK,” you say teasingly, and you turn towards him, fully facing him. “You’re so jealous.”

He pushes your hand away from where you’d left it on his thigh. “Fuck off.”

You widen your gaze, bursting out laughing a second later. And then, just to piss him off further, you lean closer to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek while your seatbelt tries to pull you back to your seat.

“You’re adorable.”

He makes a non-committal sound as you sit back in your seat, and you return your hand to his thigh, squeezing once. This time he lets you do it, parting his legs slightly so that his thigh is in easier reach for you.

You lean your head against the headrest, eyes searching his profile. He’s just toying with his piercings again, and he looks heavenly in the neon light of the streetlights, the orange glow painting him in a beautiful picture. You sigh, and he glances at you long enough for his eyes to meet yours.

You fall for him. You’ve already been falling for him, inevitably, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you right now that makes you fall irreversibly.

“I want you,” you say, voice breathy.

Jungkook’s car comes to a halt at a red light, and he looks at you again. “Right now?”

You nod, and your hand finds his thigh again. “Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?”

“I’m driving, peach.”

You shrug. “Then better keep your eyes on the road.”

Your words turned him on. You’d expected it, yet when you move your hand up, fingers grazing his dick, your throat dries out.

He’s already getting hard.

“You think you can drive while I suck your dick?”

“Peach,” Jungkook says sternly. “We’re almost home.”

“Just keep driving,” you innocently reply, batting your eyelashes.

He rolls his eyes, yet he goes forward when the light turns green instead of turning left like he was supposed to. You bite your lower lip, desire flushing through you as warmth pools at your core.

“You act so tough, but you folded so easily,” you tease, feeling brattier than you’ve ever felt with him.

Maybe because you’re starting to realize the power that you have over Jeon Jungkook, and it’s getting to your head.

“Don’t make me regret, peach,” he warns, voice low and gravelly.

You wet your lips, tilting your head to the side. “Or what?”

“Or I’m driving you home and not fucking you tonight.”

His threat falls flat - the second the words are out of his mouth you caress his length through his pants, and he instinctively bucks his hips.

“Careful,” you let out. “Wouldn’t want to get in an accident.”

He just clenches his jaw as you start working on the button of his jeans. He shifts, allowing you easier access, though it’s still awkward from the sitting position and his seatbelt. Soon enough you manage to get the button undone, and then you unzip his pants.

“Think someone’s going to see us?” you ask as you slide your hand in his pants, gripping his dick over the fabric of his boxers once.

He sits heavily in your hand, already fully hard, and your mouth waters. 

Jeon Jungkook has a lot of power over you, too.

“Not if I can find an empty parking lot,” he says, voice breathy when you stroke him. “Under the boxers, please.”

“Jeon Jungkook, saying please?” you tease, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll get used to this.”

“Don’t.” His eyes flutter shut for a few seconds when you manage to slide your hand into his boxers, and you let out a breathy sound at the feeling of his soft skin.

“Shit, Jungkook.”

“Mmh?”

“You’re already so hard.”

He chuckles. “You turn me on a lot, peach.”

You like to hear it, so much so that you free his dick from his pants, as much as you possibly can from the angle. 

“Clearly,” you say as you eye the bead of precum forming on his slit. You swipe your thumb on it, smearing it on his tip. 

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the wheel, but he remains silent this time around as he pulls the car into a parking lot. Though it’s not fully empty, he heads to a dark corner, where the lone streetlight died so that he can quickly park the car as you slowly jerk him.

“I thought you’d drive around while I sucked you,” you tease, unbuckling your seat belt. 

His eyes are dark, dangerous, as he casts them on you. “I want to be able to appreciate every second of you choking on my dick, peach.”

You smirk, and you bend down, swirling your tongue around him once. “Yeah?”

He grunts as you suck on his tip, and he reclines his seat, pushing his pants down just enough to fully free his dick. “Yeah.”

You suck once again. “Good boy.”

His large hands find your hair as you swirl your tongue around him, and he pulls it back in a ponytail so that he can watch you work on him, though you’re keen on teasing him more than anything right now.

You want to see how a frustrated Jungkook fucks.

“Just for you,” he replies as you lightly suck his tip once more.

You move to the side, peppering open mouthed kisses all along his shaft, and then some more on his thigh. You suck a hickey there, a dark, purple mark, and Jungkook curses under his breath. 

“Stop teasing,” he says through gritted teeth as you lick the mark.

“Or what?”

You look up to meet his gaze as your tongue toys with his slit. His precum is salty in your mouth, and the frustration building up in his gaze turns your insides to pure lava.

You’re burning for him. Truly burning - you’ve caught fire and you don’t think it can be extinguished.

“Why are you such a brat?” he asks, though he doesn’t sound inquisitive. He rather sounds whiny, like he wants you to stop but some part of him is thrilled.

Or maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s you and your desire for him that’s clouding your mind, like it usually always does.

You go back to his dick, licking your way up and teasing his slit at the top. You then close your mouth around him, give him a tentative suck that makes him buck his hips. You want to pull away, to be more of a brat, but his large hand shifts to the back of your head to hold you in place. You whine, but then he slowly fucks up into your mouth, and it turns into a moan, your eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat.

“See,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know you can take me.”

If you weren’t gone before, you truly are now, and you abandon yourself to the desire you feel for him. You take the lead, bobbing your head up and down as you jerk him off too, making sure every inch of his dick is pleasured. He’s a grunting mess over you, his hand still fisting some of your hair, though he’s thrown his head back and isn’t watching anymore.

You go down, hollowing your cheeks around him, and then slowly come up. You’ve been sloppy, and your spit is a natural lube on his dick as you stop at the tip, swirling your tongue around him.

“Peach,” he says, voice low.

You let go of his dick, meeting his gaze. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust. 

“Mmh?” you let out.

“I really want you right now.”

You don’t need to be told more. You climb on top of him, careful not to press your ass on the honk of his car, and you kiss him rough, your teeth almost clashing as your mouths collide. Jungkook grunts against you, his hands immediately finding your hips, and you moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth.

“Do you have condoms?” you ask as he moves to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat.

You lose your hands in his hair as he sucks on the spot where your neck connects with your shoulder. And then he pauses, lifting an apologetic look to you.

“What?” 

“We used the condom last week,” he reminds you.

In New York.

You groan, hiding your face in his neck. “Are you saying we have to drive all the way home now?”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “Or you finish me off here?” he suggests.

You throw him a stern look that makes him laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. Your heart warms in your chest, chasing away the lust, and all you’re left with are the feelings that have been brewing in you for weeks, feelings you don’t dare name right now.

“Get back in your seat, I’ll drive us home.” 

You pout, and he pecks your lips once. You can’t help the soft smile that grows on your features, and you climb off from him, sitting back in the passenger seat.

A second later you’re pulling out in the street, Jungkook having put his pants back on, and he grabs your hand where it rests on your thigh as he drives. It’s intimate somehow, even more so intimate than you sucking his dick a second ago, and you spend the drive admiring him, wondering how it is that you got so lucky when it comes to him.

He opens the door for you once he’s parked the car near your apartment, and he shuts it behind you before grabbing your hand again, pulling you behind him as you walk home. He unlocks the front door, and then you’re in, engulfed by the gentle warmth of your apartment.

There’s a beat of silence as you exchange a look, the air filling with electricity. With the knowledge of what’s about to happen - your blood heats up in your veins, bringing back the arousal that had clouded the car just a few minutes ago.

“You know,” Jungkook lets out, and he takes a step closer to you, towering over you. “It was my first time getting sucked in my car.”

For some reason it surprises you. You didn’t think Jungkook had many firsts left, yet in a week you’ve done two of them with him.

“It was?”

He nods, and he grabs your jaw to tilt your head back, his grip gentle yet firm. “And you were so good to me, mmh?” You reckon you were a brat, and maybe you should remind him, but when he adds, “Should I be good to you now?”, you only nod. He laughs, saying, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It’s all you have time to say before he’s crashing his lips on yours, and he swallows the breathy sound you instinctively let out. His hand falls to your waist, pulling you in, while yours do quick work of pushing his coat off his shoulders. He helps you by taking it off, and you both don’t care to put it in the closet, not when his tongue is in your mouth and he’s turning into the oxygen in your lungs. 

Taking off your shoes prove to be awkward, as you’re both reluctant to disconnect from the kiss, but it’s oh so worth it once you manage to free your feet from the shoes, and then Jungkook picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pushes you against the door.

You wrap your arms around his neck, sucking on his tongue when he pushes it in your mouth again, and he grunts, grinding into you.

“You make me insane,” he says against your mouth, and then he pulls away to suck another mark on your neck. 

You pull at his hair, and he retaliates by grinding his hips into yours again. “I really want you, Kook,” you say, the nickname slipping from your mouth.

Jungkook pulls back, just enough so that his gaze can meet yours. “What did you just call me?”

Though your heart is beating so loud you can barely hear your thoughts, you manage to recall, repeating, “Kook?”

“Say it again.” 

The intensity in his gaze is not one you can shield from, and you find yourself lacking any defiance. “Kook,” you repeat, softer this time.

“Shit, please always call me that.”

When his soft lips find yours again, you sigh, and he pulls away from the door to carry you to his room, his mouth barely disconnecting just long enough for him to focus on opening the door. He walks in, not bothering to kick the door shut, and he puts you down on his bed, his lips disconnecting just long enough for him to take off his shirt before he’s climbing over top of you, his mouth seeking yours.

You run your hands along his warm skin, appreciating the muscles in his back as he shifts, nails lightly grazing him. He grinds into you in retaliation, and you moan in his mouth, a sound he swallows like a starved man.

Jungkook kneels between your legs, and despite the fact that he didn’t turn the lights on, you still take a moment to admire him in the dim light filtering in from the windows. His big, doe eyes are narrowed softly, like he’s holding in a smile, and he gently runs a hand up your arm before pulling you to a sitting position.

He takes off your coat, eyes never leaving yours - like he’s lost in your gaze the same way that you’re lost in his - and then he takes care of your shirt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He plays with his piercings as he takes in the sight of your breasts, nipples perked.

“Not wearing a bra?” he teases, and he pinches one of your nipples.

You moan softly, and he pushes you back down so that he can bend and wrap his lips around your other nipple, tongue teasing at the sensitive bud.

“Is there something wrong with that?” you ask once he’s lifted your head from your breast.

“No. Just made me realize that I should have fucked you at the party.”

You bite your lower lip. “You should have.”

“Then everyone would know how good I make you feel, mmh?” he says, and then he starts going down your body, pressing kisses along the column of your neck, and then on your collarbone. Your breasts come next, and he takes his time worshipping them while you tug at his hair, just enough for him to grunt against you.

When he gets tired of your breasts, Jungkook moves lower, pressing gentle kisses on your abdomen, up until he reaches the band of your pants. He looks up then, meeting your gaze seeking consent, and you offer it to him with a nod of your head.

It doesn’t take him more to go lower, and he kisses your clit over your pants. You let out a breathy sound, and he kneels so that he can take off your pants, pulling your panties down at the same time. 

You’re dripping wet. You’ve been dripping wet since you sucked him in his car, and Jungkook watches your juices glistening as he pulls on his lip piercings. “Shit, peach. You’re fucking soaked.”

“I know,” you let out.

“So, so good to me,” he whispers to himself, and then he dives in, licking up from your entrance to your clit, where he swirls his tongue against the sensitive bud.

You become a moaning and writhing mess as he eats you out, as his tongue presses expert circles around your clit. He starts fingering you at the same time, scissoring motions fighting against your walls as they instinctively tighten around him, yet Jungkook doesn’t falter.

He never does. He never falters, is always good to you. It’s no wonder you start riding the wave towards an orgasm in no time, the pressure on your clit just enough to keep you on edge without pushing you over. You try to grind into his mouth, but he pushes you back down, one large hand on your stomach.

“Just let me please you, mmh?” he says against you.

“Jungkook…”

And then he truly goes in, his tongue flat against your clit as he moves his head from side to side, his fingers curling perfectly inside of you. The orgasm hits like a train, and your vision turns white as your walls pulse around his digits. 

Jungkook milks the orgasm out of you, making sure you’re truly spent before sitting back on his heels. You look at him through blissed, half-lidded eyes, and he palms himself over his pants, getting up to take off the rest of his clothes a few seconds later. He stands there for a time, his dick rock hard, and then he walks over to his night table to grab a condom. 

A moment later he’s back between your legs, rubbing his dick up and down your folds to collect your juice. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You’re still high from the orgasm, so you just nod your head once, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes inside of you and you let out a broken moan. He grips your waist, fingers ever so slightly pushing into the supple skin as he seats all of himself inside of you, and then he gives one thrust, pushing back out and then in in a swift motion.

“Peach,” he grunts, and his thumbs shift on your skin, like he’s caressing your sides.

“Mmh?” you let out.

He doesn’t move for a time, and your eyes slide open to meet his gaze. The intensity behind his pupils nearly undoes you, making you reach towards him until he lets go of your waist to grab your hand instead. He leans forward, holding your hand over your head, and then he steals a quick kiss on your lips.

“Let me know if I hurt you?” he says against your mouth.

You kiss him again for good measures, and then whisper, “Don’t worry, I can take it.”

“Fuck,” he curses, and then he starts fucking you, slowly yet deep, his dick infinitely hard inside of you.

He keeps at it for a time, his forehead resting against yours as he fucks you passionately, taking in the breathy sounds you make. Your free hand finds his waist, as if you can urge him to go faster, yet he resists, just keeping that same slow and steady beat. 

He lifts his head, pecks your forehead and then says, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” is all you have time to say before everything changes and he starts pounding into you unforgivingly. 

You hold on to his shoulders, nails digging in his skin as his head hangs low. He grunts directly in your ear as he fucks you, the sounds he makes almost pornographic. It’s hot, deadly so, but then again you think everything he does is hot.

You’re a goner for him. For your brother’s best friend, for someone you can’t truly have. It sobers you, and Jungkook seems to notice the shift in your attitude because he stills inside of you, raising his head to meet your gaze.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks. 

His big, doe eyes are filled with concern for you, with so much emotion you think you might drown. You cup his cheek, taking it all in.

Maybe you truly can give it a chance.

“I think I’m falling for you,” you breathe.

He doesn’t move for a while, doesn’t even blink, but then he grins. He grins, and you think you’ve never seen something as beautiful as him.

“Then that makes two of us,” he whispers, and then he’s kissing you languidly, his hips resuming their motions, though they’re slower this time, closer to what it was like at the beginning. 

You love it all the same, holding him as close to you as you can, kissing him back with every little treacherous emotion you don’t want to name.

He really is too good to be true.

“I’m going to come,” he whispers against your mouth, and he sounds slightly surprised.

Like he didn’t think he could come from gentler, softer sex like what you’re partaking in right now. Yet you react accordingly, pulling on his hair just enough to sting.

“Yeah?” you let out.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

“Fucking come for me, Kook.”

The nickname unleashes him, and he pounds into you, chasing his high as you rake your nails on his back. A few deep thrusts later he’s coming, slamming to the hilt as his dick twitches inside of you, and he kisses you again, grunts and groans in your mouth as you take it all in, your walls pulsing around him like you’re coming too.

It takes you both a while to come down from the high, and Jungkook doesn’t move, stays there with his forehead resting against yours as you breathe in the same air. Your hands run up and down his back in soothing motions despite the thin sheen of sweat covering him, and he occasionally presses soft pecks on your lips that you immediately reciprocate.

Eventually the moment passes, and Jungkook slips out of you to lie down next to you instead, though he stays close, nuzzling his face in your neck as he rests his hand on your stomach. You feel safe, warm, and you wish the world could stop right now. You wish you could stay here, forever.

And tonight you reckon you’re foolish enough to believe you might.

Prev | Chapter 9.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

these two are so obsessed with each other, help :') hope you guys liked this chapter! Let me know what you think!!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[luvyeni]

SEX FASHION GUITAR — JAEMIN SMAU MASTERLIST

𐙚 pairings. rockstar!jaemin x stylist!reader

✧ genre. rockstar!au, fwb!au crack/humor, fluff, angst college au ( ? ), mutual pining

warnings. swearing, death jokes, eventual smut, jaemin is a fuckboy highkey, will add more if needed

synopsis. l/n y/n fashion major and photographer on the side who says what she wants, na jaemin music major and lead guitar player for underground band DREAM. After yn forgets her to change her account and says something that catches the eye of jaemin she tries to ignore him — expect thanks to chenle she now works for them.

characters. l/n y/n, na jaemin, 7dream, sieun ( stayc ) winter ( aespa ) ft. hanbin ( zb1 )

started. 04-01-2024

ended. 04-22-2022

authors note. been working on this for a minute and i can't wait for you guys to read it❤️

let me know if you want to be added !

( 🩶 ) ... LET'S PLAY !

0.) PROFILES

1.) nightmare fuel ...

2.) will you do it ? ...

3.) fuck elon musk ...

4.) not that bad 😆 ...

5.) down a peg ...

6.) fitting day📍...

7.) unfair treatment ...

8.) he's unsaveable ...

9.) 5 minutes until show time ... ( written )

10.) not to your face , no ...

11.) no need to fight it ...

12.) next time ... ( written )

13.) stay the night ...

14.) that random dude ...

15.) throwing me off 😐...

16.) how far are you willing to go ...

17.) nice guy ...

18.) bowling with hanbin ...

19.) maybe it's time ...

20.) let's end it ...

21.) hostility in the chat 😬 ...

22.) spiraling ...

23.) new york ...

24.) im sorry ... ( written ) ...

25.) best non-confirmed boyfriend ever ...

26.) y/n is better ...

27.) debut day ( im sorry pt 2. ) ...

28.) release party ...

29.) number 1 ! ...

30.) people really like us ...

31.) rumored ...

32.) next week ...

33.) music show ...

34.) so happy ...

35.) disney ass outfit ...

36.) he's mine ...

BONUS CHAPTERS !

1.) jaemin not having media training ...

2.) dreams first award ...

3.) the girls vs jaeminslvt ...

©️LUVYENI

[shiggyhatesme]

smiley

chapter 1

pairings & cw: prohero!katsuki x fem!reader, following after timeskip, kat is early 20s, language, ushy gushiiinesssss, oh also dad!bakugo

monday 9:05am

it was your favorite time of year. soon after the silly tradition of the groundhog coming up, and to your liking, not seeing his shadow, spring had arrived. that meant gentle breeze’s whispering sweet songs through your hair, warmer temperatures, and blooming flowers.

you walked through the doors of your flower shop and set your bag down on the counter, turning the lights on as you walked through.

vibrant colors of all your favorite flora surrounding you, filling you with warmth.

you began to prepare the flowers, processing some of the new shipments, watering the array of different options, and submitting orders before eventually opening the store.

it was a small quiet shop in the middle of Musutafu, though as quiet as the inside was, you had your fair share of seeing the pro’s outside at work. you didn’t mind though, it kept you entertained throughout your days. business was also never a problem.

you were in the middle of arranging a bouquet for a wedding when you heard the bell on the door ring.

back facing whoever had entered, you spoke “welcome in! how can i help—“

you cut yourself off as you turned around, not expecting to see the no. 2 (or no. 1, it changed often) pro hero, dynamite standing in your entryway.

he quirked a brow at you, “‘fuck’s that face for?”

you realized that you more than likely looked like an absolute idiot with your mouth agape and eyes wide. you cleared your throat as you became a normal person again, throwing him your best attempt at a smile.

“sorry! how can i help you?”

the pro scoffed as he inched forward, meeting you at the front counter. he looked, sort of, uncomfortable. his hand reaching around his head to scratch his neck.

“i was in the area and remembered that my brat is having her kindergarten graduation soon, so i uh,” he trailed, looking away from you as he spoke “need ya to make a stupid small bouquet for her.”

you almost exploded right there from cuteness, but you figured that wouldn’t be a great second impression.

you clasped your hands in front of your chest in excitement practically gushing, “oh how sweet! congratulations to your little one!”

katsuki let out a huff before rolling his eyes, hopefully the mask did enough to cover the subtle rose tinting his cheeks.

you chuckled at him for a moment before speaking, “did your wife leave you with this errand?”

you watched as he tensed, his ruby eyes looking at the counter beneath his hands. “i uh, i’m not married.”

your face fell and you slapped your hands over your obnoxiously loud mouth, “oh my god! sorry that was personal! i’ll shut up now god wow i’m so—“

his eye began to twitch as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“stop yer rambling woman, it’s fine. just help me here.” he interrupted, leaving you to mentally facepalm with cherry red cheeks.

you straightened your posture before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “did you have anything in mind? any colors or specific flowers?”

the spiky haired male shook his head while waving a gloved hand at you, “nah, i don’t know anything about this shit. the brat loves yellow and blue, do with that what you will.”

you nodded excitedly and jotted it down on a notepad.

“now i know you go by ‘great explosion murder god dynamite’, but is there a better, or perhaps shorter, name and number i could put you down by?” you joked, clicking the top of your pen as you looked to him.

he scoffed, crossing his arms, “tch, just put katsuki down. my number is xxx-xxxx, and if you leak it i’ll kill yer ass.”

you snorted as you wrote down his name and number, sticking it on the order wall for future reference. you walked back over to him as you brushed your hands against your apron. “alrighty! i’ll give you a ring when it’s done, which will more than likely be in the next two days.”

he grumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before turning around and heading back out. you watched as he slid his gauntlets back on, finding it sweet that he took them off before coming inside.

as you worked on your unfinished orders for the rest of the day, the sun beginning to cast a warm glow on the pastel walls of your shop, you found yourself thinking of katsuki. you didn’t keep up with the hero world much, but you had seen him in bits and pieces before. and boy was he much more dreamy in person.

a small tinge of excitement wavered throughout your body as you planned out his daughter’s bouquet, questions that weren’t any of your business, flashing through your mind.

you didn’t even know he had a daughter, you thought he was around your age, early 20’s. did he have a girlfriend? was the mother present?

why are you wondering these things when you’ll only ever see him once more out of your entire life?

you shook those thoughts away as the night grew older, eventually closing up shop and heading home, the remnants of winter blowing against your cheeks as you began your trek.

wednesday 11:02am

you didn’t hear the jingle of the doorbell behind you, your mind wrapped in god knows what as you watered the plants behind the counter.

katsuki took this as an opportunity to drink up the sight of you, the same sight that he was unable to shake from his mind the day he met you. your sickeningly sweet nature that complimented your soft features, your hair tied up in a knot behind you.

he cleared his throat before throwing a quick ‘oi’ your way.

you jumped at the sound, almost dropping the hose before turning your head towards the front, spotting that all-too-familiar face. turning off the hose you walked up to the front, looking at the watch on your wrist with furrowed brows.

“s-sorry i wasn’t expecting you this quick! i swear i just called you 5 minutes ago.”

katsuki looked away abashed, knowing full well that as soon as he got your message he flew here as quickly as possible. would he ever admit that? no.

he let out a scoff as he crossed his arms, looking out the window. “tch, i was patrolling over here. figured i’d just pick it up now.”

he was in fact not patrolling over here. he was indeed about a 25 minute walk away.

your mouth formed an ‘o’ as you took in his words, clasping your hands in front of your chest in excitement to show him what you made. “well i guess it worked out perfect then! the bouquet is ready, let me grab it.”

you walked to the back where all of the finished orders were and smiled to yourself, grabbing your creation that you were in fact, very proud of.

it’s totally not like you put 100% more effort into this one than the others because it was katsuki, no way..

you walked out with a big smile on your face, hiding the bouquet behind your back as you neared him. “okay…tada!”

you placed it on the counter in front of you for him to observe, holding your breath as he looked it over, pleading it would be to his liking. you took your craft seriously, so this meant a lot to you.

you watched as he fought back the tiniest smirk looking down at it, taking in the array of hydrangeas, blue roses, brunerra, mixed in with the golden yellow daffodils, tulips and marigolds. and in the center of them all sat a cute ‘congratulations’ card, poking above the flowers.

you broke the silence, it becoming too much for you, “please tell me you like it. i can’t quit my profession right now.”

katsuki’s red orbs found yours as he rolled his eyes and let out a small chuckle, “don’t be an idiot. they’re nice. i think the brat will love ‘em.”

you released the breath you had been holding and relaxed, silently celebrating.

“thank god! i’m so happy i was able to do this for you guys. i hope her graduation goes well.”

he waved you off before reaching in his pocket for, what you had assumed, was his wallet. you quickly grabbed his, muscular as fuck, arm before he could pull it out.

“please don’t worry about it! on the house, it’s the least i can do, you’re out there kicking ass all day. just tell the little one i said congrats.” you smiled, noticing him looking at you like you belonged in an asylum.

“listen smiley, it’s really not—“

you cut him off as you grabbed the bouquet and shoved it in his hands, walking around the counter to grab his shoulders and guide him out the door.

“nope and nope! go back to kicking ass and maybe come back one day to tell me how she liked it. ciao, katsuki.” you blurted before shoving him out of your glass doors and locking them behind him, watching as he turned around absolutely dumbfounded. you waved him a ‘goodbye’ before turning around and getting back to whatever work you had left.

a couple minutes later you heard a soft knock at your front doors, forgetting that you had locked them. you walked out of the back to see katsuki standing there, an unreadable expression on his face.

you cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms, causing his eyes to roll as he pointed at the lock.

you huffed as you unlocked the door and slowly opened it, poking your head out.

“i already told you, you’re not paying.”

he grumbled in response before meeting your gaze, his brows furrowed, a seemingly common expression for him.

“not that, dumbass. i’d be an idiot if i left here without taking the opportunity to ask, so—“

you looked up at him as he took in a breath, your heart pounding in your chest.

“would you…want to go on a date with me?”

[gemmahale]

Okay, I'm home, I've been on the road for the better part of 4 hours today due to a miscommunication and a cancelled event, and I've had this rant brewing.

Being Anti-Military and Pro-Veteran are stances that can mutually exist.

Games like CoD and whatever other FPS/Military Simulation game is out there is propaganda. It’s meant to make you want to sign up or support military action.

The military (I’m speaking specifically to the US, as I am most familiar with them by proxy) uses some incredibly underhanded techniques to ensure they have the warm bodies soldiers they need to keep the system working as intended.

This includes but is not limited to: promises of paying for education, aspirations of “seeing the world”, provision of job security, access to healthcare, a stable job and housing, etc. They use things like “patriotism” and “glory” and “security” to lure people in.

And then, when that person is wholly and completely reliant on the military - for a paycheck, housing, healthcare, you name it - they spit them back out into the world with a "thanks a lot and good fucking luck."

Into a world where:

Financial support for care has been axed and axed and axed again under "budget cuts"

Care is secured with red tape so thick you can tightrope walk across it

Care is denied for things the military caused (by saying "it didn't happen while you were serving".) *Yes, that's a direct quote from a doctor to one of Kallen's peers. When assessing a life-altering injury sustained while they were in country overseas, it was deemed as "non-service related injury”.

In comparison to civilians:

Veterans are ~40% more likely to be homeless.

Veterans are ~80% more likely to suffer from untreated mental and physical health issues - PTSD, hearing loss, nerve damage, etc.

Veterans are ~60% more likely to turn to addictive substances - alcohol, drugs, etc.

Veterans are ~70% more likely to commit suicide.

This isn’t limited to combat vets. Logistics specialists, administrative specialists, IT specialists all get screwed when they leave.

Ask just about any veteran that has served, they are incredibly likely to be staunchly anti-military.

The military causes a tremendous amount of damage to every person involved, even if they aren't aware of it at the time.

It’s a cult, it’s an abusive relationship, it’s predatory. Treat it as such.

Support veterans, advocate for their care. They made choices you may not agree with, but they made them because of what they thought the military was offering to them. Many thought they were doing the right thing for their country - that was the lie they were fed from 9/11 on (in the US). Then they were chewed up, spit out, and left for dead by the same people that made all those promises to them.

Here are some US-based, apolitical Veteran Support groups (many have International chapters/members):

22 Until None - 501-C3 that provides support to veterans by veterans. There are local chapters on Facebook that are all active and are listed on the website

Disabled American Veteran - Veteran help association; involved in legislation and local assistance, connections to VA advocates to help navigate the VA

Wounded Warrior Project - 501-C3 charity supporting disabled veterans.

Note: I am absolutely not doing the "not all servicemembers" thing here. I'm saying "veterans are living with their choices, and still deserve access to care."

[kingkat12]

say it (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, jealousy-schemes, depictions of violence, blood, angst, fluff, Roman using his powers for no good as always

summary: many questions have been left unanswered-- is Roman really going to take revenge on the girls that hurt you, and will the avalanche of events lead him to finally tell you the words you've been longing to hear?

word count: 9,208 (holy fuck)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9

a/n: celebrating 400 followers (???) with an extra long chapter!! thank you all again for the support of this series!! all the comments have warmed my heaaarttt omg hope you enjoy!!!<3333 love u!!

Roman had always been highly unpredictable-- but this, I should've expected.

My hands trembled as I reached for the brand new phone in my locker, realizing he had bought me the most recent model he could find. As I picked it up, I slowly pried away the attached post-it note;

taking care of things - the one thing I do well

Knowing I had asked him not to do this, I could only sigh as I tucked my new phone away in my pocket. The day had certainly started on an odd note, but my main concern wasn't this-- it was rather the question of what Roman had done after he stormed away from my house that kept my mind occupied. 

Roman could be scary, and I was aware of this. But gifting me a brand new phone for several hundred dollars? It just proved I could never foresee his next moves. This only made me more anxious to learn why he had left my place in such a hurry shortly after seeing the cuts Jasmine had left on the back of my hands. 

As I closed the door to my locker, a group of girls passed me, their whispers catching my attention. I turned around, ready to face off with another group of bitches just like yesterday, all until I realized what they were whispering about. It wasn't me. 

I followed their gazes which were focused on something further down the hall, and it was at this moment that I spotted the man who hadn't answered any of my panicked messages or calls-- instead, he stood talking to Jasmine. 

Thankfully, it seemed to be quite a heated conversation, unlike how he usually spoke to girls. Roman's brows were drawn together in anger, nearing her slowly in his typical tactic of intimidation, clearly telling her off; I stood frozen by my locker, not bothering to suppress my growing smile at the sight. My stomach fluttered with warmth as I realized that he was standing up for me.

... However, my smile quickly faltered as I caught the change in Jasmine's face. Her lips had been pursed, her finger had been drawn forward to point at him in defense, but her whole fight-back demeanor faded within the snap of a second. It was as though she lost all the blood in her face, eyes not blinking as they met Roman's intense gaze-- everything about her state reminded me of mine yesterday, when I suddenly couldn't control my own words when I looked into his eyes and he interrogated me about my wounds. 

I couldn't deny how dangerous Roman looked, watching as he told her one last, short thing, before harshly nudging her shoulder and disappearing out of view.

Jasmine stood by her locker, completely frozen. I wondered whether she was still breathing, all until she finally moved. She slowly turned to stare into her reflection in the mirror she had hung up on her locker, still not blinking. 

I didn't think I could shriek the way I did-- the extent of my voice was something I discovered as Jasmine unexpectedly slammed her head against the mirror, a loud thud echoing through the hall. 

I wasn't the only one who had been caught by surprise, and I watched the people around her jump away in a mix of both fear and shock. 

Jasmine didn't look like herself; her eyes were dull, hollow, as she brought her head to her locker once more, now leaving bloody cracks in the mirror. 

I recognized Jasmine's posse of girls flocking to make their way through the crowds, and Letha appeared almost out of nowhere to grab her and pull her away from her locker. A shrill cry followed from Jasmine, who was clawing at Letha as though possessed. I watched as she fought, yelled-- I couldn't look at it anymore. I couldn't look at the tiny trickle of blood running down her nose, similar to Roman yesterday, or the small shards of glass she had managed to get lodged into her forehead. 

I turned away, clasping a hand over my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut; something told me that the sight of the whole thing would burn itself into my mind forever.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Oh, how right I was. I kept replaying the whole scene, but I had oddly enough fixated on something that wasn't the blood-- suddenly, my mind kept replaying how ridiculously hot Roman looked leaned over Jasmine with his intense, big eyes. 

I did my best not to think too much about it. I couldn't; it all brought back thoughts of how soft his lips were against mine.

Speaking of Roman, I didn't expect to talk to him at all today. He still hadn't answered any of my messages, so I assumed he needed time away to cool off.  However, I knew I had him cornered when I accidentally walked into the chemistry lab, catching him in the middle of... an experiment?

This was certainly a new side of Roman which I hadn't seen before-- I had never seen him do anything school-related, as I had gathered he didn't care much for it from our study sessions at Letha's place before everything happened. But here he was, so consumed in whatever he was doing that he didn't acknowledge that I had closed the door, leaving us alone in a confined space.

I pressed my back against the cold door, watching him from afar. Something about how calm he was made me uneasy; why was he so focused? Roman, captivated by the small, compact container before him, kept his eyes on his work as he spoke; "Are you lost?"

My brows drew together as I watched him pour a liquid gel into the container which contained what looked like blood-- he was so meticulous that it gave me an inkling that he had done this several times before. "No," I mumbled, clearing my throat as I fought my queasiness at the sight of his experiment. "What are you doing?"

Roman barely reacted to my question, busy with putting the container into a machine nearby. "Genetic testing,"

"Since when do you know how to do that?"

Annoyed by my continuous interruptions, Roman's gloved hand put the blood-box into the machine and pressed a button to start it, finally looking up to meet my nervous, flickering gaze. "You certainly have a lot of questions today," he huffed, adjusting his protective glasses. "My turn. How are your hands?"

I suddenly became very aware of the cuts on the back of my hands, and my eyes diverted down to watch my thumbs nervously brush over my wounded skin. "They'll heal. I'm not too worried about it," My next inquiry was one I was wary to say, but it became obvious to me that I had to; "I'm more worried about why you stormed off like that last night."

Roman didn't move a muscle, watching me with a blank look on his face. "You told me to go,"

"Come on," I was reminded of what my state had led me to yesterday; the way I wanted to push Roman away, to never see him again. But here I was, standing before him with no greater wish than to run to him. "I was worried sick that you'd do something... You looked like you were ready to kill someone." It was at this moment that I dared to look back at him and suddenly caught a glimpse of the hickey I had left on the side of his throat-- I immediately felt a familiar warmth creep up my cheeks, leaving me with a flustered, reddening expression on my face. "What did you do?"

Roman tilted his head to the side, scanning my state. "I haven't done anything--"

"Then why did you?--"

"Major," Roman bit down on his lower lip, trying to suppress his shameless grin. The familiar spark in his green eyes returned, and I could see it perfectly clear through his protective gear-- no matter how worried his words made me, that look never failed to make the butterflies in my stomach explode all over the place. 

I had to pull myself together, but my voice came out frail and shaky; "You're kidding, right?"

I recognized Roman's wish to remain reactionless and the way he fought the rounding out of his big, green eyes. It seemed to dawn on him that I was genuinely concerned. "... Sure. But what did you think of what happened this morning with Jasmine?"

"What?" That was certainly unexpected-- "Why?" I wanted to ask what he had said to her, but something told me he wouldn't tell me the truth about it anyway. Instead, I opted to find comfort in the fact that he had confronted her for my sake. 

Roman shrugged before his attention moved back to the machine. It was beeping rather obnoxiously, a sound impossible to ignore. He got back to work, pressing a few buttons here and there; "Just wondering. Did it not make you feel good to see her like that?"

I couldn't put my finger on why he was asking these peculiar questions. "Well... No? I was mostly scared. I've never seen anyone have a nervous breakdown before, and I didn't expect something like that to happen to Jasmine,"

"Nervous breakdown," Roman echoed, checking some numbers he had written down on a sheet nearby. Something told me he was upset I wasn't over the moon about it. "Don't you feel like she deserved it?"

It was mind-boggling to hear him talk like this, with such nonchalance about a girl slamming her head bloody-- I had suppressed the memory of this side of him. The inclination to anything pain-related, the scorching look of amusement in his green eyes at the sight of my flaring anxiety, and the infamous fucking needles. How he had gotten hard when seeing how scared I was when we hid from Letha on our first date. 

I hated every reminder of this side of Roman. Hated it. 

"I don't think anyone deserves to be driven to that," I mumbled, picking at my nails out of nervous habit. "I didn't know she was dealing with anything that would lead her to do that. Maybe that's why she acted out yesterday? I hope that's the reason, and not because Letha sent her to do it... " With a sigh, I brought my hands up to rub my temples. "It was so damn scary... The whole thing. And ever since, my head has been hurting like crazy."

Taking in the silence that ensued, Roman tapped the spot next to him on the counter-- come here.

I held my breath as I made my way over with shy steps, hoisting myself up on the cold surface. I watched as Roman removed his gloves along with the protective glasses, now reaching forward to part my legs and make space for himself between them. He listened to the hitch of my breath as he laid his hands on my hips, his calculated gaze scanning mine whilst pulling me towards him. 

By instinct, I rested my hands on his broad shoulders, taking in the moment our breaths became shared. Right now, it was impossible to believe that I had made the wrong choice in choosing him over my friendship with Letha-- something about the tenderness with which he was touching me, told me he was changing right before my eyes. 

With baby steps, of course.

Roman seemed to be taking pity on my state, softly nudging his upturned nose against mine. "Try not to think about it too much," he breathed, watching as I closed my eyes to savour the moment. "Trust that I know how to take care of this."

No, no, no-- "Please don't say that," I pulled away, my hands slowly reaching for his face, searching for the intent behind his eyes. "I know you well enough to know that you're capable of things I don't want to get into, and honestly? You scare me when you say shit like that."

Roman's brows drew together in a troubled look; "I scare you?"

"Yeah," I breathed, stroking my thumbs across his cheeks. "You and your infamous needles and stuff."

A drawn-out groan ensued-- "Again with the fucking needles!--"

"Roman!" My grip on his face hardened in an attempt to keep his focus. I watched his green eyes widen, clearly not used to being handled like that. "Whatever it is, please snap out of it! You can't even tell me that you're into me, but you're ready to go back to being all dark, and for what? My honour?"

Something in Roman's eyes changed-- For once in his life, he was stunned, unable to utter a proper response. 

Overcome by a newfound sense of confidence in his unproclaimed feelings for me, I gently twisted my fingers into the nape of his neck, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Roman let out a relieved sigh against my lips, his grip on my hips tightening as he moved me closer to the edge of the counter, closer to him. 

It took a lot of willpower to disconnect our kiss, the warmth of his touch luring me in. "I'm serious," I said, nudging his nose as I felt his breath hot against my upper lip. "I can stand up for myself--"

"Shut up," Roman's lips came crashing against mine with a hunger I hadn't expected, especially knowing we could be walked in on at any moment. But I gave in, letting his greedy hands travel further to grab my ass, pressing me against him as his tongue moved softly against mine. 

Usually, I'd taste the hints of his cinnamon cigarettes, but today there was nothing-- I knew he didn't smoke the days he knew he had to be focused. There wasn't much time to ponder why, especially now that our kiss heated further.

As I felt Roman drive his teeth into my lower lip, I could only whimper against him. My grip on his hair tightened in an attempt to pull him even closer, but the sharp sting of the tug only fueled Roman's obvious growing need for more. 

It was building in me as well-- in my anxious daze, I had forgotten how good it felt to feel him against me. How thrilling every touch, every kiss, every little breath was. And if anyone had told me a month ago that Roman Godfrey would be grabbing my ass in the chemistry lab, I would've probably fainted; which I struggled not to do right now.

And I knew we would've gone further, beyond all restrictions and rules of the school, had the door not opened with a loud creak.

Squeaking, I pushed Roman away out of pure instinct. He didn't go very far, feet planted to the ground, as his hands trailed down to rest comfortably at my thighs when he met the eyes of the intruder of our moment.

Letha still held onto the doorknob as though her life depended on it, knuckles nearly turning white at the sheer force-- she inhaled sharply, not yet able to exhale. 

I felt like an icicle, frozen by fear on the counter after meeting the eyes of my ex-best friend. Roman's hands on my thighs burned, the realization of being caught in such a compromising position making me want to burst into flames like the witches of Salem. 

Roman took the lead, catching onto the intense staring-contenst which ensued between me and his cousin; "Did you need anything?" he asked, gaze hardening. 

Letha cleared her throat, letting go of the door. I couldn't help but notice the slight shake of her hands. "I need to talk to you, Ro," 

"I don't want to talk," 

She sighed, visibly fed up with her stubborn cousin; "We didn't finish this conversation yesterday. Don't act like we're not still talking because she's here,"

Oh? I held my breath, my nervous gaze moving to Roman. He remained unfazed, but the minuscule twitch of his eye revealed that he didn't enjoy that information being aired out. "What do you want?"

"To talk. It's important," Letha glanced at me once more, an unintelligible emotion glossing over her eyes as she looked back at me; "Could you please leave?"

It took a few seconds before I realized she was talking to me. The coldness in her voice broke my heart all over-- I didn't have the energy to fight her. Uncomfortable and mortified by the situation, I nodded to myself before sliding off the counter, Roman's hand never leaving me. He now held onto my arm, not letting me go just yet. Leaning down to my level, he made sure he had my attention before he spoke in a hushed tone; "My number is already in your phone. Give me a text when you're free for lunch,"

My heart leaped up into the air as Roman pressed his lips against my forehead, the sincerity of the gesture flustering me beyond any previous point-- it was especially meaningful now that he did it in front of Letha. Realizing there was no going back, I got up on my toes to give him a short, soft kiss, feeling the plushness of his lips against mine before making my way to the door.

Passing Letha might've taken less than a second, but it felt like hours. I felt her green eyes burn into me, a sense of shock apparent in her body. We exchanged a short look, and I wondered whether I imagined the look of longing that so clearly streaked across her face; I didn't allow myself to dwell on it.

After closing the door behind me, I realized I had been holding my breath. I took a moment, regaining my composure before I got ready to kick off the door-- all until it dawned on me how clearly I could hear Letha's voice through the wall. My heart stopped, realizing I was about to do something I never thought I'd do; I pressed my ear against the door, mentally beating myself up for doing this.

"I see you guys are still getting along," Letha said, her fingers tapping against the door. "That's longer than any of the other friends you've stolen from me."

Roman groaned-- I didn't need to see him to know that he was rolling his eyes. "Get to the point,"

I drove my body closer to the door to hear them better, hearing Letha stepping away from the other side of it to come closer to her cousin. "Tell me why I had to drive Jasmine to school today because the wheels of her car had been punctured? Or even worse, how she got a note under her bedroom door saying she should watch her back?"

There was a long silence before Roman finally answered, a hint of humor in his voice; "... Maybe she should, then?--"

"Ro, you were in her house! Are you out of your mind?!"

As he groaned, I could almost see his usual annoyed stance and the way he grabbed the surface in front of him as his anger simmered to a boil. "Me? I would be more concerned about your own mind if I were you! Your cunt of a friend would've done it all again in a heartbeat if I hadn't scared her a little!"

Letha gasped; "What are you talking about? You have no right to call her a!--"

"That bitch hurt her!" Roman's fist came down against the counter, the thud making me jump away from the door. "Have you seen the state of her hands? How do you expect me to react when our petty bullshit comes down to this?!" 

I imagined the stunned look across Letha's face, the way her eyes widened as her lips parted, unable to find the right words. Eventually, she spoke; "Jasmine did what?"

I pressed myself harder up against the door, closing my eyes as it dawned on me how concerned Letha sounded. Everything about it made my heart swell with hope-- this meant she hadn't been the one to send Jasmine and her girls. If anything, she sounded horrified about the ordeal.

"Yeah... She did. And when I talked to Jasmine this morning, she seemed quite proud of it. You should be damn happy I didn't kill her on the spot," I heard the humming of the blood machine starting again, along with the snapping of gloves being pulled back on, indicating that Roman was back to work. "But does Jasmine suspect it's me?" he asked, a certain nonchalance about him. "The car and all?"

Letha sighed, trying to contain her outbursts; "She has no idea. And now she's just rambling incoherent things after what happened this morning... I think she's concussed,"

A hum. "Good,"

I clasped a hand over my mouth to suppress a snort. Against my palm, I could feel my growing smile as I realized this confirmed that Roman wasn't motivated to take revenge on Jasmine to quench his thirst to cause fear, but that he cared for me.

He cared for me.

My smile only grew as I stepped away from the door-- He cared for me. He cared for me!

Now, what remained was for Roman to actually own up to it... And I realized I was grinning as the perfect idea of how to get it out of him came to mind. But my plans came to a hard stop when Letha's voice sounded through the door once more; "Whose blood are you using this time?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood. I grimaced as I walked back to the door; I felt bad listening in on their conversation. Still, I imagined Letha was pointing at the machine Roman was using, as it kept making noise. 

"Jasmine's," Roman mumbled. "Got enough scraped off her locker to make a sample."

"Ro, that's not funny!--"

"Why haven't you girls made up yet?"

Letha sounded confused as she mentioned my name, not having foreseen the change of subject. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yeah? It's getting annoying at this point. I thought this would blow over several weeks ago," With another loud beep, Roman stopped the machine. "She talks about you a lot. Gets all quiet when I tell her we're having family dinner at your house... And she still has a picture of you two by her bed."

"Oh, and how do you know that? Did you spot it one of the times you were reaching for the condoms on her nightstand?"

His breathing got harder, choppy, before his frustration sounded through his answer; "It's not like that,"

"Okay, then," Letha snorted, clearly not sold. "I'll put it simply for you. How would you feel if I fucked your best friend?"

"Ew, don't give me that mental image!--"

"Fuck you, just imagine a world where I would be enough of an asshole to do that! Imagine I slept with Peter. How would you feel?"

Roman took his time to answer, clearly flustered. "... I get it, okay? I get it!" 

"No, you don't," I could almost see the way Letha now avoided his gaze. "But... did it have to be her? Why couldn't you mess around with anyone else, why did you choose the first girl I trusted to get close to me after you screwed all my other friends?"

Learning of his previous conquests with Letha's long line of friends made me sick, but I focused on the fact that Roman remained quiet. Honestly, I would've cut off my left arm in exchange for seeing him right now. I wondered whether he could meet her eyes or not, and whether he was defensive or anxious. 

Eventually, Roman answered; "She... sees me. And she makes me feel good about myself. So I'm sorry your bitch-friend got hurt or whatever, but I'm just trying to return the favour,"

I had to do a lot to contain my instinctual jump of joy-- I was two seconds away from skipping down the hallway like a German child in a fairytale. Everything about this conversation made me want to squeal and melt into the door. 

However, the other part of me hurt for Letha. Hurt for the girl who knew me better than anyone else, hurt for the first person to have shown me true friendship. I hoped that we could get together someday, to talk it out like people, and not like the two crazy families from Romeo and Juliet. 

The rest of the conversation quickly became a childish spat similar to one between siblings-- I stepped away from the door, making sure to keep breathing. 

The most important thing I gathered from that conversation was the fact that Roman saw me and that he definitely had feelings for me. However, I couldn't quite put my finger on why he couldn't say it to my face. If he was willing to go so far as to scare off Jasmine for my sake, why couldn't he look me in the eye and tell me what he truly felt about me? I knew it would make me feel much better to get his feelings for me confirmed-- the fact that he was evading it left me uneasy. Uncomfortable. And quite frankly, it only made me further insecure.

What if I had sacrificed my relationship with Letha for someone who would never commit to one with me? 

My mind returned to the plan I previously made up with my ear pressed to the door; maybe Roman just needed a push in the right direction?

Either that, or I had been led on like the biggest idiot of the century.

I couldn't do this anymore-- I needed to know.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And so, it was all set in motion. 

The first part of the plan was to find out whether it was necessary to have a plan at all. This, I decided to investigate in the backseat of Roman's car. 

It used to be a place that I refused to step foot in after hearing of his cheerleader-conquests. However, right now, it was a place of comfort and peace; he had parked it somewhere desolate, per my request. My parents had gotten suspicious after hearing steps on the roof the other day, and were now watching the whole area around our house like hawks to spot any possible intruders. So, as I didn't want to be caught sneaking a boy into my room, I told Roman to get creative-- and he had hit the jackpot.

This summer night was nice and warm, and we lay curled up in the back of his car as we stared up at the starry sky; this was one of the perks of Roman's car having the function of pulling down the roof. He sat with his back against the car door, me between his legs with my head leaned on his shoulder, the both of us looking up at tonight's constellations decorating the darkness above. 

"I'm not even going to act like I know what that one is," I mumbled, pointing up at the scatter of stars. I wrapped myself further up in his sweater, tracing patterns over the arm he had around me-- the night air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of grass and the faintest hint of rain as my body filled with a certain satisfaction I hadn't felt in a while.

Roman chuckled, pressing a kiss against my cheek as his arm pulled my back flush against his chest. Like this, I could spot my hair ties still worn around his wrists. "It's the Little Bear constellation," he murmured, his long, slender fingers rubbing circles into my side. "See how it looks like a bear cub?"

I decided not to lie; he'd see right through me, anyway. "... No,"

"No?" Roman reached forward to grab my hand into his, closing one eye to position my hand properly with his vision. "Even if I trace it for you?"

It was impossible not to blush. His hand against mine, his warmth against my skin-- everything about this was so incredibly intimate, and I had to hold myself back from simply jumping him out of pure joy. "I-- Well," It was hard to speak when I was this flustered. I swallowed hard before trying again; "I don't think bears have long tails like that."

Roman seemed amused by my answer; "You make a good point," he purred, gently intertwining our fingers before bringing my hand towards his lips, pressing a kiss against my cuts. "As always."

I only blushed further, not bothering to suppress my smile anymore. Turning to him, I watched his big, green eyes meet mine with a softness that nearly made me melt right into him. "How do you even know all of this?" I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder. "You don't strike me as a constellation nerd."

Roman rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. Something told me he was charmed by the subtle compliment of his intellect; "Is it hard for you to believe I'm not braindead?"

"Maybe," I turned back towards the stars, hoping he wouldn't spot my grin. "Pretty boys usually don't even know how to count to forty."

Chuckling, Roman nuzzled his cheek against the top of my head, wrapping both arms around me again. "So now I'm pretty, huh?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, deciding to be blunt-- I didn't gain anything by lying to him about it, anyway. Not after everything we had been through. "I think you're really damn pretty."

Something told me he hadn't expected the frankness, or for me to even be truthful at all. Roman remained quiet, taking in the sweetness of the moment. He took the time to kiss my temple, humming against my skin; "I think you're pretty too," he murmured. "Very, very pretty."

There was no way to suppress the blush burning its way up my cheeks, and I closed my eyes to savour the moment he kissed me. Roman was being so gentle, so loving-- I couldn't believe this was the same boy I had been running away from because I was scared he'd prick me with his scary needles. He seemed to notice how flustered I got from the compliment, letting out a warm chuckle as his gaze turned up at the sky again. As he pointed out a new constellation, Roman's voice was laced with a kind of wonder that made me smile; "If you want the full answer, it is the fact that there's something more up there that makes it interesting. Something much bigger than us... Something worth reaching for, y'know? The stars are just a blatant sign,"

I turned to look at him, watching the way his green eyes sparkled almost as brightly as the stars above us. Roman was so painfully beautiful, and so wonderfully at ease-- there was nothing I wanted more than for him to feel this peaceful all the time. I knew it would be good for his soul. 

I wondered whether Roman knew that he was something worth reaching for, as well. 

Everything about this evening made my body feel like gelatin. I couldn't even feel my fingers anymore, engulfed in the euphoria that was Roman. This was the perfect distraction from everything that had happened this week, and I realized it was also the perfect time to set my plan in motion; "So... you're willing to admit I'm pretty, but you're not going to say it?"

"Say what?"

I shrugged, feeling myself grow nervous. Roman was usually the one to mess up cute moments by saying something stupid, but I wondered whether now was my turn. "That you like me,"

However, he remained unfazed-- or, at least he was very good at acting like he was. His silence made me further anxious, now starting to wonder if I was the reason he wasn't able to say it to my face. Maybe he wasn't as into me as I had thought? Maybe this was just how he treated every girl he liked? 

I knew it wasn't, but I realized I was spiraling; I needed him to spell it out for me. I really, really hoped he would-- then I wouldn't have to go that dreaded extra length and go into phase two of my plan.

Roman pressed his lips against the top of my head, clearly lost in thought as he brought me back from mine. "Do you need me to?"

That was a good question-- one I knew the answer of. "I think so, yeah..."

"You need it spelled out?"

"Yeah,"

"Verbatim?"

"Verbatim, Rome,"

The nickname seemed to throw him off; he let out a breathy chuckle, shifting to get a good look at me. "Since when am I Rome to you?"

I shrugged, meeting his green eyes. "Since... now?"

Roman smiled down at me, clearly flattered. "Cute," he breathed, leaning in to place a sweet kiss against my cheek. I giggled as Roman's fingers dug into my skin, pressing me further up against him in a flash of passion-- although this moment was perfect in theory, I knew I hadn't gotten what I wanted out of him tonight, and I dreaded what I had to do because of it.

Quite frankly, I dreaded it mostly because I was very well aware that the second part of my plan was incredibly high-risk. Stupid. Reckless, even.

However, I didn't see any other way of forcing those three words out of Roman that I needed so much. How else was I supposed to prove to myself that I hadn't sacrificed my friendships for nothing?

I dreaded every single step up I took as I made my way through the cafeteria the next day. In my peripheral view, I saw Roman sitting next to his best friend, Peter, chatting away about something as none of them had noticed me yet. It was only when I caught Roman's eyes that my heart started racing-- I watched his confusion build as I started walking in the opposite direction.

Determined, I knew this was the perfect moment to execute the second part of the plan. I did my best to keep my face neutral, hoping not to be visibly bothered by Roman's watchful stare, as I deliberately sat down next to Daniel-- the guy who had flirted with me at an assembly a month ago. 

I specifically chose Daniel because I remembered Roman saying he had noticed me talking to him; I also knew that this guy was the key to making him see the consequences of staying unofficial. 

I didn't need to look at Roman to know he was seething.

Daniel turned to me, putting down his fork. We hadn't talked since I started seeing Roman and stopped responding to his messages-- he was visibly confused, but there was a certain sparkle in his blue eyes that gave away his delight. "Hi?" He quickly turned to his friends who were all staring at us and motioned for them to get back to their own shit. 

"Hey, you," I shifted in my seat, attempting to make myself comfortable whilst Roman's gaze drilled holes into the side of my skull. "Haven't seen you in a hot minute. How are you?" Putting on my nicest smile, I tilted my head a little as I spoke-- that used to work on him. 

Daniel blinked twice, clearly unsure what to say. "Uh... Yeah, of course I haven't seen you, you've been busy with Roman," His eyes darted over to the latter, watching as my very unofficial boyfriend glared daggers his way. "I'm fine now, but I'm afraid I won't be later if you don't move soon."

This had been one of the driving factors of me not falling for Daniel-- this guy was an absolute wuss. I did my best not to roll my eyes, knowing how to rope him back in again; I placed a gentle hand against his arm, rounding out my eyes as Daniel turned back to me. His blonde hair fell over his eyes, a bright contrast to the dark blue of his varsity jacket, as his heart visibly skipped a beat. 

"You want me to move?" I tried, keeping my tone soft as I gave his arm a short squeeze.

In my peripheral view, I caught a glimpse of Roman stiffening in his seat. His green, intense eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his fingers tapped impatiently against the table as his mood darkened. That same, unmistakable anger looming over him like a dark cloud worried me-- I knew I didn't have much time to make my point before he'd explode. 

However, distractingly comical, was the sight of Peter next to him, debating whether to put his hand on his best friend's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down; his hand kept jerking back and forth, jumping with every twitch of Roman's eye.

Daniel swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving mine. "Well... You don't have to move," He cleared his throat, giving in to a nervous chuckle. "You're already here, I guess. Pretty as always."

I had to fight my instincts to not throw up in my mouth-- it made me physically ill to flirt with him when I was so sickeningly crazy about Roman. "Oh, you're too kind," I tried, forcing a smile.

Daniel flashed me that typical heartthrob smile of his, finally giving in to my antics. He tilted his head, mimicking me, as his eyes sparkled with want; "Fuck, I've missed seeing you around,"

That seemed to be enough for Roman-- his possessive intensity came to a simmer, boiling over. He kicked away his chair as he got up, an angry groan escaping him as stormed off with balled fists. Peter sent me a sharp look of come on before he left his food behind to follow his best friend.

That was my cue to leave. "I, uh... Sorry," Releasing Daniel's arm with a quickness I didn't know I had in me, I practically jumped out of my seat, allowing myself to shudder when I was out of view. I didn't like touching any other guy like that, but I hoped that Roman would take the time to let it dawn on him that this could be his reality if he didn't step the fuck up.

... I really hoped that would be his conclusion. 

However, it dawned on me that this might've been my biggest misstep so far. I had learned that one of the most important things for Roman, was loyalty-- maybe I shouldn't have toyed with his perception of mine?

Putting it all together, I realized I should've expected it to blow up in my face.

The third and final part of my plan had been simple in my head; Roman would confront me about what had happened in the cafeteria, and then he'd tell me he couldn't stand the sight of me with another man and therefore wants us to be official.

... It seems that I had gotten in over my head.

The exact opposite of that happened. Now, Roman wasn't answering my calls. He would walk past me in the hallway as though I was a ghost, even though the fading hickey on the side of his neck served as a reminder of our time together. I hadn't expected him to ignore me like this, I really hadn't-- he was utterly unforgiving.

It had been three days of no contact. No shared glances, no exchanged words, simply because I got too confident. Why had I thought it would be so easy to get what I wanted? Why had I felt the need to drag a confession out of him when his actions spoke for him?

Roman had made sure none of Letha's friends would touch me again-- or, at least in the near future, seeing as the main instigator was at home with a severe concussion. He had put in a good word for me with Letha, he had bought me a new phone, and he had opened up enough to both accept and enjoy physical affection. Why hadn't I seen it this clearly before I messed it all up?

It all came down to one moment in the hallway. 

Exhausted and alone, I had zoned out like I usually did to distract myself from everything as I rummaged through my locker for my book. My body felt heavy with the sadness coursing through my veins, knowing I had no one anymore. No one. My every moment was slow, not having the energy to hurry much as I spent an unusual amount of time looking for the specific book I needed.

Up until my body froze at the sight to my right.

My head slowly turned to watch what was happening a few meters down the hall. There he was, the man that had haunted my every waking moment, vexed my every thought, with a girl. 

Roman had that classic heartbreaker look about him as always, leaning his hand next to the girl's head against the locker. From this angle, I could see the upward turn of his nose, the way his smirk painted across his lips, and the way his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of his next prey.

The most jarring part about it was the fact that I could still see my hair ties around Roman's wrist as his palm lay flat against the locker behind her, almost as though it was on purpose.

It became downright nauseating when the girl giggled and started twirling her finger around her hair-- I did my best not to throw up my breakfast. Questions raced through my mind, fogging up my brain; why was he doing this here, in front of me? Why was he doing this at all? 

I was sure this was what people meant when speaking of tasting their own medicine.

I stood frozen by my locker, one hand still shoved beneath the rubble of books, as involuntary tears pressed up against my eyes. I tried to ground myself with a few deep breaths, yet the world around me felt as though it was crumbling. All these games were so damn childish from the both of us; when would it end? I was living through my worst nightmare, and it became a hundred times worse when I realized I had been warned about this before by Roman himself.

I was reminded of the first night we kissed in that closet during seven minutes of heaven;

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

Oh, if only he'd known how right he was. Now I had no one to run to, no one to seek comfort from, all because of my own stupidity. Not only had I managed to lose all my friends, but now I had lost the one thing I had sacrificed everything for; Roman.

A pit formed in my stomach as I watched him lean closer to her, laughter dancing between them. Didn't he know how much that hurt? Didn't he see me standing here, shattered? I was so lost in the shock, that when Roman turned to face me, revealing that he knew exactly where I was and that I was watching, I barely registered it. My eyes had welled up in tears, looking completely shell-shocked as I watched his smirk immediately falter at the sight of my watery gaze.

In a flash of action, I slammed my locker shut, not bothering to look for my book anymore. I needed to get away. Now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When I got home that same day, I had expected to be left in peace-- that was the most logical conclusion. My parents were at a loss with what to do with me, and of course I had no friends reaching out to check up on me. I was quite sure I had hit the lowest of the low, simply sinking into a state of forced apathy as I lay with my face down into my pillow, spreading out on my bed wearing Roman's enormous sweater. I was quite sure I had been like this for hours, not getting up, not eating-- I didn't care anymore.

I couldn't care; it would break me. Just like that sight of Roman with that girl. 

I touched my neck, feeling the soreness of my fading hickeys as lightning struck outside. There were barely any traces now, and the realization that they would be gone in a day or two hit me like a truck. Thankfully, I didn't have many tears left in my body. I lay in the coldness of the puddle of grief I had left on my pillow, shivering as it dawned on me that I might never feel Roman's lips against mine again. Never feel his hands around my waist, never be in the back of his car, and never get to lay in his arms ever again. As the heavy rain continued to tap against my window, every drop felt like a reminder of the moments we'd shared, slipping away.

I remembered that first time Roman smiled at me in class. Every memory came to me; the rush of excitement coursing through my veins during our first kiss, the feeling of laughing with him at that café on our first date, and the way I would sometimes wake up to Roman's arm tightly wrapped around me in a protective, loving embrace. He wanted to hold me, even in sleep. 

He wanted me. Roman Godfrey wanted me, and I threw it all away because of my incessant need for him to commit.

And just as I was about to choke out any remaining tears, I heard a knock at my door. I didn't care to move, knowing my parents knew of my state, as my words got muffled against my pillow; "What is it? I'm not having dinner!"

"That's not it," My parents seemed to be whispering between themselves before one of them continued; "Sweetie... there's a boy for you at the door."

I bounced off of the bed as though I had heard a gunshot, and I landed on the floor with a groan as I crashed down against the hard wood. Wondering whether the thud had sounded through the ceiling downstairs, I realized I didn't have time to think about that; "Okay, give me-- Give me a second!" I got up from the floor, feeling my breath get stuck in my chest as I ran to my mirror, doing my best to fix the way I looked before leaving my room.

My thoughts were racing as I made my way past my parents, realizing they were staying upstairs to give us some space. I didn't need to guess who the boy at the door was-- still, I froze halfway down the stairs at the sight of him.

There he was, drenched in rain. Roman took a deep breath at the sight of me, watching the way his sweater draped over my shoulders with his big, green eyes. He, too, seemed to have frozen to his spot like an icicle, and a thick silence ensued as I gripped onto the banister of the stairs-- I was afraid I'd faint and roll right down. As he stood there, cold and vulnerable, I felt the walls of insecurity I had built up begin to crumble; his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything I'd lost.

Even worse was the way I tensed up, ready for him to yell at me and blow up. My grip on the banister tightened to suppress the subtle shake of my hands as I held my breath.

Finally, Roman spoke-- but it was far from what I had imagined him to say; "I don't know what happened. It doesn't make sense," His eyes rounded out, so heartbreakingly sincere. "We were good, and suddenly we weren't. I made sure you were safe from those girls, and then you went and flirted with that assembly guy... It doesn't make any sense."

I let in a long, shaky breath, feeling the guilt seeping through my veins. "I thought... I thought I needed you to say it,"

"Say what?" Roman shivered, clearly cold from his wet clothes. It made me wonder how long he had paced back and forth in the rain before approaching the door. "That I like you?"

My cheeks burned-- "Yeah..."

Another wave of silence ensued as Roman no longer met my gaze, biting his teeth together as he tried to steady his breathing. I could feel hints of his brewing anger beneath his attempts to keep calm; "Did you need me to say it so bad?" he mumbled. "Have I not shown you what I feel for you? Was it not blatantly obvious?"

Everything about his tone made me want to burst into tears-- it made me feel seven again, being told off in front of the whole class. "I'm sorry," I didn't know what else to say, at a loss for words. "You're just so hot and cold sometimes, I thought it would make me feel better if I got it confirmed. I sacrificed so much to be with you, and it was freaking me out that you couldn't say you want to be with me as well... I guess it really got to me."

It was clear that Roman was conflicted, consumed by a storm of thoughts. His green eyes softened, his brows drawing together in a look of melancholic sorrow as he let out a sigh. "I hear you, but it's just... Those girls went after you because you were with me. I know you've had a tough time, and I didn't want to make it any worse for you by making us official... By making my feelings official," His voice trembled, revealing the cracks in his tough exterior-- it was as though the weight of his own fears had finally become too much to bear.

Another wave of guilt washed over me, knowing I had driven him to this point with my schemes. "Why would that make it worse?" I dared to take another step down the stairs, letting go of the banister. "Wouldn't it be a good thing? Don't you think it would've made me feel better?"

Roman's eyes fixated on the laces of his wet shoes, and I watched him change his weight from one foot to the other. It was obvious that he was nervous, especially as he cleared his throat. "I don't think I'd be a good boyfriend," he mumbled. "I shut down. I retaliate when I'm angry. And I don't know whether Letha would ever forgive you if we got into a relationship, and I know that would crush you."

Despite the reminder of Letha, I had to bite down on my bottom lip to suppress my growing smile-- it warmed my heart to hear how he had thought this through down to every last detail. 

Roman was rambling at this point; "I was just so shocked when you went to Daniel, I thought I was going to faint. The way you smiled at him, the way you touched him... I couldn't even look at you these past few days, and then I couldn't stand the silence either, hence that show in the hallway... I just didn't expect you to cry. I fucking lost it,"

I reached the end of the stairs by the time he was done, now close enough to see that his drenched clothes were leaving small puddles of rain along the hardwood floor. "Roman--"

"--And I just don't want to hurt you, y'know?" He finally looked up to meet my gaze, an unfamiliar emotion swimming in his green eyes. There was a certain desperation about him as his words came out like a stream in a never-ending river; "Because even though we're fighting, you're still in my sweater. And even though you're fucking infuriating, I still want to hold you. No matter what people think, you're good. You're sweet, you're kind, you... There is a sanctity about you in my mind. I really don't want to hurt you, but it's fucking inevitable with me! That's just who I am!"

I was batting away tears at this point; "Rome, please, that's not!--"

"--Of course I like you!" Roman's eyes glossed over, letting his emotions shine through his tough exterior at the sound of his new nickname. "If anything, I adore you half to death, and you doubting that makes me feel like I've failed! I've failed to keep you happy, I've failed to make you feel seen, and I'm just-- I'm a mess!"

Attempting to pat away my tears with the sleeve of Roman's sweater, I sniffled as I realized I was unsuccessful, my tears now spilling down my cheeks. Suddenly, many parts of him made sense to me; after finally letting me hear his true, inner thoughts, I had never seen him more clearly than now. 

Roman sniffled as well, head hanging low in shame. "Why would you want a mess?" he echoed, his voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you. I really, really don't."

Enough-- It was breaking my heart to hear him so broken. I finally dared to step towards him, slowly reaching for his soaked jacket. Roman's eyes widened as he watched me hang it up in the hallway; "What are you?--"

"Stay the night," I placed myself in front of him, having to get up on my tippytoes to brush his wet hair away from his forehead. "My parents probably won't mind if I ask nicely."

Roman's green eyes rounded out with every soft touch against his skin, and he placed his hands over mine as I cupped his face; it dawned on me that I hadn't felt so calm in a while. "I want to be yours, Rome. In every sense of the word," My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, watching his heavy lids fall over his eyes as he keened against my touch, succumbing to the comfort. "So what if you're a mess? You think I'm not, with the way I've been running around you for months like a dog?"

It warmed my heart to hear him laugh, even if it was for a few seconds-- I knew my eyes weren't deceiving me when I spotted a tear or two heavying down his long lashes, making their way out of hiding. 

I had to bat away my own, my voice barely baring through the sentence; "You're much kinder than you think you are, much more gentle... If only I could make you see it yourself," Getting up to his level was impossible, but I was able to tilt his head down enough for me to place a soft kiss between his brows. "I want us to be together. I want us to at least have each other,"

Roman's breath hitched, letting his hands travel down to rest at my waist as he opened his eyes. revealing an ocean of tears about to spill down his rosy cheeks. "We're going to crash and burn,"

"... Let us, then,"

It was as though time stood still in the moments I waited for signs of a yes. My thumbs stroked over his temples, realizing our chests were rising and falling at the same time, trapping us in one breath, one body. For a second, it felt as though Roman and I melted into each other, the green of his eyes engulfing me with a look that told me everything I needed to know. 

Roman's breath was hot and heavy as he searched for the right words. I was sure he'd said enough dumb things for a lifetime to know he needed to choose wisely for once. But hence, his lips curled up into the sweetest smile known to man as he spoke against mine--

"Let us," he breathed. "Let's burn together, then."

(a/n: if you've come this far, thank u so much omg!! here's PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9 if you want to check them out!<33 )

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7

Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.

Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.

Word Count: 4,463

Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM

A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nel’s flight leaves a half hour before Yuri’s gets in at the same airport. 

But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like you’ve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories you’ve both made. 

Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nel’s hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really. 

He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you don’t. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.

The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next. 

Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together. 

There’s a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying to swallow. It’s thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you can’t get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.

Painful doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. 

As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. You’re trying your best to blink them away, but you won’t be seeing him until winter break, and even then, that’ll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if it’s only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when you’re in the middle of it. 

Funny how the concept of temporary doesn’t make the gash in your heart open any less.

You don’t want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you. 

You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.

But he can’t. 

You reach his gate and before you know it, his flight’s being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow. 

Maybe they’ll create a little lake in the hole he’s leaving you with. There’s certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.

Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.

“I love you so much,” he says. You don’t see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, “It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” 

He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later. 

They’ve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations. 

“Just for now,” you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake. 

It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. “I love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.”

He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. You’re going to miss seeing that smile in person.

Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. “It’s always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but I’ll manage.” Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and you’re pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. “I promise I’ll message as soon as I can. And I’d wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.”

The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You don’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to go.

But he has too. 

You separate only enough to kiss. It’s messy and wet and gross, but you don’t care. It’s the last one you’ll have for a while and you never want it to end. 

But it does. 

Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.

You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you. 

You wave, mouthing ‘I love you.’

He mouths ‘I love you’ right back, and turns the corner.

You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking five—okay ten—minutes to violently sob in the bathroom. 

She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed. 

“It’s okay Sweets, you’ll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,” she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.

They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.

You hate goodbyes. 

But Yuri’s seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that won’t stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream. 

Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesn’t hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation. 

The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. ‘Shit personality and even shittier sex’ according to Yuri. No consultation needed. 

But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. He’s a Count of something she can’t remember but in her words, “big heart and even bigger dick.” 

That makes you giggle. And you’re happy for her. 

“Bitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think I’m in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d still say thank you afterwards,” she’s rambling at this point and you’re mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now. 

You don’t want to start crying all over again. By the morning you’ll be fine, you’ll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, it’s a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.

So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her. 

You love her for it. For this. 

For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.

You really fucking hate goodbyes. 

You’re staring at him. 

Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him. 

And Jungkook’s pretending he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in your chair and he’s back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screen’s filled with this week's newly assigned ‘Studio Portrait Techniques 1’ homework. 

His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.

His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.

And you’re staring at him. 

He’s hoping it’s because this is the first time you’ve seen him since Nel left. 

But it’s probably to do with the fact that he hasn’t looked at you once today. Or the fact that he’s barely spoken at all when he usually can’t seem to shut up when it’s been more than 48 hours since he last saw you. 

Because it’s also the first time he’s seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasn’t Adaline.

“You’re acting weird,” you say.

“No I’m not,” he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.

Yes he is. He really, totally is. 

“Yes you are, you won't look at me and you’ve barely said two words since I got here.” Well your knack for observancy is still intact.

Normally that's a good thing, but right now?

“Did I do something wrong?”

No. No you didn’t.

He did.

He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isn’t allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.

And now if he isn’t paying the goddamned consequences. 

After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. He’d crossed a line he didn’t even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.

For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be with…

And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He can’t look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted. 

Wants.

Fuck, he’s in over his head.

Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.

Because you can never know. 

He can’t lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. It’s not your fault he feels like this. 

So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and I’m planning out all my shoots.”

You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive. 

“If you say so,” your tone implying you don’t believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesn’t hitch, “What’s the project?”

“It’s my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. It’s easy to make things look different when it’s different people being photographed,” he explains.

Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. He’s glad it’s due in the middle of December because it’s going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit. 

But that’s the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a ‘portrait’ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it. 

‘To broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,’ as his professor would say.

He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box. 

“Oh wow, that is a lot,” you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings don’t just happen in a day. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

“Yeah! I have them all already, actually,” he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.

- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser  - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, “regal” _|(_*-*)>_. Flag.  - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels? 

“I’m really excited for this project,” he says, “it’s just the prep that’s going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. It’s mostly concepts right now.”

You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways. 

“Adaline going to be your model?”

It doesn’t surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework. 

“Actually, I… uhh…” he trails off. Jungkook’s trying to get the words out, he is. But they’re surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat. 

Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force. 

It shouldn't be this difficult. It won’t be the first, second or fifth time he’s asked you.

Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.

He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, “I was going to ask you if you would.”

You somehow hear him. 

“Me?” you look dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you.” He’s always used you for homework assignments before, so he’s not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because it’s a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater? 

“But you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.”

Oh. That makes more sense. 

But that is one mistake he won’t be making again, because he did ask Adaline. 

Once.

It was recent, Nel was still here and he didn’t want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.

So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.

What he didn’t expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best. 

All he did was click the capture image button when she said too. 

And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed ‘ugly.’

He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better. 

So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model. 

Ever again.

“Nah. You’re a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.”

You snort. “Seriously? Is she that self absorbed?” a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.

That’s new.

Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her. 

But this one? It’s like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didn’t know it was this severe. 

Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?

It certainly sounds like you don’t like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldn’t, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.

And if he’s honest, that wouldn’t shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that. 

He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.

“She’s just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Can’t really blame her for that.”

Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, “no, you can’t,” placing a splash of pink on a flower. 

He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back. 

And the fact that you didn’t answer him. 

Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.

Jungkook’s editing a picture when you stretch. 

You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study. 

They’re some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and you’ve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.

“Shots blurry.”

Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. He’d spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadn’t noticed that.

Because it’s not. It’s perfectly crisp and clear.

When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. ‘Pay back for that first day,’ you claim. 

Well…

Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.

“Oh, you're right. Thanks,” and he switches to another image. 

Your grin falters but you recover quickly.

“No problem.”

See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows how…particular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like ‘blue’ or ‘red.’ Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of ‘sub colours.’

‘It’s not blue, it’s cerulean,’ you’d remark. 

‘That’s not red, it’s burgundy,’ you’d correct him.

You’re always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But that’s on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line. 

Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you. 

He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But he’s glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.

He gestures to your canvas. “Those pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?” 

“Their common name is Lady’s Eardrop. And they’re magenta.”

Hook, line, sinker. 

He doesn’t even have to try, you walk right into it every time.

“Lady’s eardrop? That’s a weird name…do they come in other colours besides pink?”

You don’t look up as you reply. 

“Magenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but they’re a different type, longer. Not the same as those,” you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta lady’s eardrop sits in the window. 

“And are these pink ones your favourite?” he’s really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.

“They’re. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.”

“Noted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.”

You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.

“They are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, there’s more titanium white in pink. That,” you point again, “is very clearly, magenta.”

He has to. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.

But also hilarious. 

“Same difference.”

He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.

“No, not ‘same difference,’ they’re magenta!”

He’s leaning in. “Pink,” eyeing your lips as you speak. 

You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. “Ma-gen-ta.”

Your noses are mere inches from touching. 

“They’re pink, Van Gogh,” he backs off before he does something stupid that he’ll regret, “Don’t get so invested.”

You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, “They’re fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and you’ll label them as such around me.”

You’ve always had a mouth on you. One you aren’t scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesn’t push any farther, knowing he’s already gotten what he wanted and then some. 

But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.

Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies. 

Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile that’s trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.

Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice. 

But you do, because it’s you. Of course you do.

And the look on your face is priceless.

“You did that on purpose!”

“What?” he says way too high pitched. “Nooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.”

He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.

“I was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains. 

“You’re such a dick,” you quip.

“Yet, you like me anyways.”

You mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Fess up.”

A pause, before, “I said I just remembered I don’t know your favourite colour.”

No you most certainly did not, but he’ll let it slide.

“Black.”

“Ugh, boring.”

“What?”

“Boring,” you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. “And technically not a colour. Black’s a shade.”

Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.

“Whatever, Seurat, it’s still black. What about you? What’s Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Colours’ favorite?”

“It’s still a shade,” you repeat.

“It’s still my favourite. Answer the question,” he presses. 

You give him an unimpressed stare. 

“Violet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,” your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as ‘his dad’ so casually. “And when it’s not that, it’s this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.”

It’s Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he can’t help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.

“Why two?” 

“Why not?” you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. “Don’t you get bored of one colour for too long? It’s nice to switch things up every now and then.”

His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.

“Red.”

“Hmm?” you touch ground.

“If you won’t accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.” He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one. 

He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...

But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.

“Red’s a great choice, strong,” you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.

“When do you need me for the shoot?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows find his hairline. 

That was a yes, right? You’re saying yes?

“Uhm…soon, I’ll let you know the specifics when I do.”

“Sounds good.”

He was going to leave it at that, but adds, “Thanks, Y/N.”

He hasn’t said your name since the assembly. 

Always nicknames when talking to you. Always. 

Never your name. 

Not once in two months. Almost three.

You—

An inhale.

You…like it.

The way it sounds coming from his lips.

Exhale.

Chapter Eight: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[anki-of-beleriand]

A heart Made of Glass ch.12

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

Okay, this chapter had some tricks in it that are surronding Reader and Wanda, this is their story and this time around Reader would need to make the right decision if she wants to get what she wants and what she needs.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 12

In a different world

The universe started with a spark of bright golden light.

Loki Odinson had seen it several times, he had witnessed the birth and death of multiple universes and timelines that were destined to perish in a myriad of colours that would soon be forgotten. He had sat on the throne, and while he was not a King himself, he could recall the faces of all of those poor souls that disappeared into the nothingness, just as he could remember the beauty behind the first spark of life.

However, what he was experimenting right now was nothing like it.

Whatever, or whoever had decided to intervene had messed up with his own spell and everything had exploded into nothingness. A single spark of red, green and golden then, nothingness. Black spaces that disappeared without any traces left behind.

Loki started at the empty space that was Wanda and Y/N’s basement before he sighed. He sat down shaking his head, a headache approaching just as he thought on the oncoming conversation he would need to sustain with the Avengers.

“Fuck.” The word rolled out of his lips in such a natural way, he could do nothing but leaned back against the wall.

What the hell just happened?

What did he do?

What did Wanda and Y/N do to get this reaction?

The silence soon became deafening, Loki located the book Strange had died trying to recover. He frowned while leaning over to pick it up, the spell was done correctly with all the right wording as well as the right drawings on the ground. So, why did it go wrong? His eyes scanned the pages, re-reading the passages over and over until his heart dropped at one particular line, something he had overlooked the very first time he read that passage.

“…this, however, may be counterproductive if there is a magical or multiversal energy interference, the amount of energy converging at one point may created an unexpected result and…”

Loki knew the rest by heart, he knew there could be troubles but…well, how many energies were involved in the spell? He had counted on those signatures coming from Wanda and Y/N, he had even counted on his but…was there anybody else out there? Was there anybody else at the other side of the multiverse?

“Shit.” Loki stood up fixing up his clothes before flickering his hand to open a portal. He needed to face the consequences of his acts, and the first stop would be the Avengers Tower and Steve Roger’s office.

The former Captain America was going to enjoy telling Loki ‘I told you so’, just before hitting him in the face.

With one last glance to the basement, Loki turned around and left the place.

He never worried to test the energy fields around, or to tap into the timelines flickering in front of his eyes. It never occurred to him that, as soon as the explosion happened, a new singular timeline appeared right before his eyes just to blend itself with the other timelines flickering in front of Loki.

No one but the Watcher could see it, The Watcher stood in the sidelines furrowing his brows and waiting.

The world would either collapse in itself, or it would fix the anomalies by itself.

Either way, he was watching history, and the future of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

_________________________________________

Darkness had always been your friend.

You were born in it, and it had been your weapon and your refugee in the hardest of times. That was the main reason you didn’t panic at first, everything around you was filled with the purest form of darkness with a single touch of coldness that sneaked inside your clothes. The hairs on your arms stood up, a shiver went right through your muscles making you groan as you finally experience the pain in your body.

Your mouth opened inhaling deeply filling your lungs with gusts of cold air, your chest contracting itself just before you started coughing. It was then you opened your eyes, and the darkness that you had experienced moments ago was nothing but you woke up from unconsciousness.

The first thing you noticed were different white dots in the sky winking back at you. You tried to grasp a single thought, seeking around your mind for a coherent idea but it was almost impossible to do so when the rest of your body was finally receiving different stimulus in the way of pain and coldness.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called to your left, you tried to sit up but a single hand placed itself on your shoulder pressing you to the ground.

“Ease there, pal, you were really hurt back there.”

Even if you didn’t get a chance to sit up, your world started spinning around. The voice was so familiar, yet so different to what you were used to; with some reluctance you turned your face to the right and soon you found yourself looking at yourself.

The other woman offered a tentative smile, though the way she was squinting her eyes and the pursed of her lips told you she was just as confused as you were at the moment. Soft footsteps approached you, America Chavez was wearing a single cut on her cheek and a bruised eye, this time around you didn’t let you counterpart to stop you, you sat up to check over the teen kneeling beside you.

“America, are you alright?” Your eyes rolled back for a moment, your knees fell harshly on the ground while you held yourself with a single hand placed on your leg.

“Y/N, please…” America winced lightly glancing at you then at your counterpart. “I think you were the one that suffered the most…”

“It was my fault, actually. So, sorry?”

You blinked a couple of times, shaking your head made the headache worse and the dizziness settled on your lower abdomen. You lifted your face blinking a couple of times before checking America over, the young woman softened her features with her cheeks colouring pink while her lips tried to offer a single smile. You tried to ignore the other Y/N for as long as you could before turning around to settle your eyes on her.

Just like America, she was wearing a single cut on her forehead with her clothes dishevelled but otherwise nothing else. With some reluctance you lifted your eyes looking deep into those eyes that you knew so well.

“This is the weirdest shit I have ever had to live to date.” You finally said shaking your head, “I hope it is the last weird shit ever.”

“Agreed.” Y/N tilted her head furrowing her brows while giving you a quick glance. “Before this happened, I’m afraid I was in your body fighting with someone that got lucky…so…”

“So, that’s why I feel like this?” You cracked smile, your counterpart nodded mirroring the smile on your face. “Okay, got it, so…what the hell is going on?”

America and Y/N glanced at one another then at you, it wasn’t until then that you decided to take a good look at the surrounding area. The place in itself was nothing strange, yet you got a feeling that this was not your universe or even that of your counterpart.

The sky was completely dark filled stars but as you got to observe them above your head you realized there were not your stars. The constellations you had come to know thanks to Natasha and Carol had been changed and were replaced by different forms you did not recognize. With a single frown you lowered your eyes to find yourself in a plain of land filled with dried grass that extended beyond what the eyes could see. It was an empty land, with nothing beyond the darkness of the night without any moon it was hard to actually see something that could give you an idea of your location.

The sound of whistling called your attention, and soon you found yourself being wrapped tightly by two pair of arms. Before you could protest or ask what they were doing, you experience the sharp bite of wind, A cold, merciless breeze that soon turned into a whirlwind that left as suddenly as it had come.

“Wh-what the hell?” Your eyes opened wide, your teeth chattering while America and Y/N leaned back wincing.

“We need to move.”

You furrowed your brows shaking your head, “move where? I can barely see you two, how are we going to see the path or…where the hell are we?”

America sighed standing up, she stretched her hand to you offering a tender smile.

“You haven’t figured it out?”

You stood on weakened legs, your mouth opened ready to protest until you finally realised it. While it was true there was nothing much to see beyond the darkness and the starry night, you could see America and your counterpart just fine. It took you but a few minutes until, you lifted your hand and the shadows followed you giving you a good glance of what was around you.

“We can manipulate shadows, the night in itself is darkness and filled with the main source of our power.” Y/N stated matter-of-factly while standing before you, you nodded curtly feeling foolish for not even thinking about it.

“Are you guys going to tell me what’s going on?”

America grabbed your hand, then turning to Y/N she shrugged also grabbing her hand as well.

“We may as well update her while we continue walking.”

“We saw lights coming from what we think was a village a few kilometres away, were trying to get there until these weird whirlwinds came in and we couldn’t carry you anymore.” Y/N explained shrugging. “We’re guessing once we get to some sort of place filled with civilization we will know more…”

“Why didn’t you try to travel through the shadows?” You asked ready to do so when the warning tone from your own voice stopped you.

“I couldn’t do it without leaving America here, and I have a bad feeling as soon as I tried it…so…” Y/N shrugged looking ahead of her, “I always follow my instincts, they have never failed me.”

The comment sent a sharp pain straight to your heart.

Your instincts had never failed you either.

Nothing else was said after this, the three of you were following the direction America had pointed out but you were just lost not really knowing if this was the right path or just a wild guess. The temperature was dropping even more, soon your teeth were chattering alongside those of America and the other you. You felt a sharp pain through your head, whatever had happened before you woke up had left your body quite bruised and right now all you wanted was to find a bed, an analgesic and something to eat. For a brief moment, an intrusive thought came forward in the form of Wanda, panic rose through your chest and filled your mind but before you could ask anything about her your counterpart spoke.

“I still don’t understand how everything came to be,” she spoke with a tone of voice you were familiar with, you let your eyes wandered around the landscape holding onto every word resounding into the darkness of the night.”

“I remembered when Wanda and I saved America the first time, and then trying to safe her from these creatures chasing her down.” Y/N trailed off with her memories making her falter, with a single shake of her head she continued, “I know I was out for a while, so you can guess how surprised I was to wake up in the arms of someone that wasn’t my wife…”

“Not really.” Your reply was filled with coldness, tension building up in your body, “I have always had the luxury of waking up alone in my bed.”

America winced lifting her head to glance at you, her dark eyes begging you to listen before jumping in whatever discussion you wanted to start.

“Agatha Harkness.” The name reached the inside of your mind with the memory of the file you read on her, not only that, but also the different videos you saw surrounding her story inside of Wanda’s world.

“That was the woman you woke up to every day, Y/N.” America chimed in shyly, she lowered her gaze squeezing your hand tenderly. “She had been dragging Scarlet and Wanda around, draining them of their powers and leaving them defenceless for quite some time, and since…well, since Y/N was under her spell…”

You opened your mouth to speak, you wanted to say something but finding your counterpart’s eyes on you whatever argument you had built inside your mind came crumbling down and soon you were given their side of their story.  Little by little the story started making sense, the building of a different world and the intrusive dreams you were having in the last couple of weeks, the purple and red magic surrounding you on that day as well as the mixed-up realities that ended up with you thrown into another’s body. You had always known that Wanda was special, and powerful, you never imagined just how much.

America had been a part of the plan, of course. Her powers would be very beneficial to someone like Agatha, and your powers would make sure no one would ever find her. Everything was about the most basic reason of all: Power. You pursed your lips disgusted; you were dragged into a confrontation with Wanda because there was a woman chasing after power. You had been running from Wanda for more than ten years, and all it took was this woman to ruin everything.

And now, now you were walking down the darkness of the night with a girl that could travel through different universes and your counterpart, a woman that got the life you had dreamt of a long time ago.

“Life is not fair.” Y/N stated glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, “but it is what we have, and we must…”

“…deal with it, take what it is being offered and try to be happy with it.” You finished shaking your head.

“Ah, so not everything is lost, I see.” Y/N allowed a single smile to break on her face, you pursed your lips snorting.

“You don’t know the story.”

“But she does, that’s why she told you those very same words, didn’t she?” Your counterpart stopped all of a sudden, you let out a heavy sigh before turning to face her.

America was standing in between the both of you, her brows knitted together with her gaze travelling around the terrain before settling on the both of you.

“Look, I know that you and Wanda had a different experience than mine, I’m glad you did because…” You trailed off holding onto your emotions, “I don’t wish on you the pain I went through…”

For the very first time ever you saw your own face breaking into a broken-hearted smile, with those eyes losing all light and those lips curving into a crooked smile. It was you looking back, and you understood right there and then that you weren’t the only one.

“You forgive her?” You asked with a hint of hope in your voice, you hated how the question left your lips and how your counterpart understood what you meant.

“How could I not if my heart beats for her?” She replied clenching her eyes closed, her hands rested upon your shoulders before you found yourself looking into your eyes. “There is a difference, though, isn’t it?”

“You guys were not together…” You started but she merely tilted her head.

“You know it wouldn’t matter if we were a couple or not, she chose someone else when we have always chosen her.” Y/N squeezed your shoulders lightly. “The difference is that I gave her a chance because I want to do so, you didn’t because…”

“I don’t believe in second chances! If I have done so she would have broken my heart all over again when she went into her imaginary world with Vision!” You exclaimed enraged, surprising Y/N and America.

The other woman furrowed her brows, she was ready to argue back with you and asked questions about the imaginary world. It was quite evident a lot of things had happened in this strange world and Y/N could only imagine the pain and rage engulfing your heart at the moment.

America could see darkness surrounding the three of you her eyes opening wide almost losing into the shadows until her eyes caught glimpses of red and purple right ahead.

“Guys?” America stuttered lifting her hand and pointing to the distance.

You two stopped your discussion turning around to see the same sparkles of red and purple. It was a formation of dusty colouring breaking into the darkness of the night sky, you turned to the left to see Y/N frowning with determination and America shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“It’s not that far away, I mean it could be at least one kilometre?” Y/N faced you holding onto the previous tension of your conversation with her, you clenched your fist shrugging.

“Looks that way.”

“Are we…” America started but you lifted a hand to silence her.

“Before we jump in to do something I think we need more information, we don’t even know what we are going to find over there.” You looked out of the corner of your eyes; the lights were still gleaming pretty much intensely but you could tell your two companions didn’t want to stay still and do any planning.

“What do you propose?” Y/N asked lifting her chin, “you know pretty well those sparks of crimson are Wanda’s, and we know this woman, this Agatha has been using purple magic. Are you really suggesting we stand here or keep walking in circles?”

“No! All I am asking is to first think about what we are going to do! We’re not even sure where we are much less what we are going to find there.” You asked back lifting your hands in the air and stepping back, the pain you had forgotten in favour of the discussion came back making you winced.

“Look I know you guys think the world of Wanda, and that’s cool, I guess your Wanda,” this time around you pointed to your counterpart trying to remain calm, “she is all love and kindness and that’s fine. The Wanda in world had a total breakdown that enslaved a bunch of people in a reality she created for herself and that microwave she called husband, so forgive me if I’m not going to jump in without any additional information.”

Your tirade echoed through the night, your voice carried by the wind with a dropped in the temperature. The moon that had been travelling with the three of you flickered all of a sudden, and the darkness grew around the three of you. America didn’t miss the flickering lights of crimson and purple, but she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing your hand in hers, the warm she shared with you made you shivered and with some reluctance you lower you stare to her. Even in such a darkness you could see her brown eyes gleaming with emotions.

“You still love her.” America mumbled squeezing your hand tenderly.

You clenched your jaw tilting your head to the side, America bit her lower lip glancing from you to Y/N.

“I don’t know why this has to be so complicated, but she needs you.” America took a deep breath stepping closer to you. “Wanda is sad, and I know she messed up and that forgiveness should not be given just because you feel that way. But she really needs you, she and Scarlet.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened between the both of you.” Y/N stepped in making sure you could not look away from your own eyes. “But the woman I love is out there, being it in this dimension or another Wanda Maximoff would always be MY Wanda and I won’t leave her out there to get hurt. If not for you, then at least do it for me.”

It was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by darkness and coldness that your heart finally gave in. With a nod, your dropped your shoulders in defeat missing the smile coming from America but never missing the satisfied glance coming from your counterpart. The three of you finally turned to the source of the magic, and without a simple plan you three started making your way to the source.

You were not prepared for what was waiting for you over there.

Agatha Harkness smirked at the woman kneeling before her.

In less than a year she had made it possible to crumble away the legend of the Scarlet Witch while placing herself as the most powerful witch in the multiverse. Her smile never faltered, not even when the world spined around changing into a familiar setting; a place and time Agatha had suffered before but that now she could alter with a single flicker of her hand.

The place was filled with passersby ignoring the presence of the two women; nobody seemed to care that one of them was on her knees with a single neck shackle made of light red and blue tied to a crimson necklace Agatha wore on her chest.

“What do you think about this arrangement, dear?” The dark-haired woman asked, her eyes dropping to the kneeling Wanda who was shooting her a stare filled with anger. “Personally, I think this could be more lively, but don't worry soon enough we will have a show to die for.”

Her laughter was accompanied by a flash of violet, and soon the scene changed and they were transferred to a great marketplace located at the centre of the village. Everyone had reunited around four pillared pyres that were guarded by at least ten knights all dressed in black.

Wanda lifted her face, her ears twitched hearing the sound of angry screams cursing someone she couldn't make out yet. Agatha stirred in excitement; her smile grew until it was a crooked grin with just a hint of madness behind it.

“Here they come…”

The crowd spread around just as four figures came in walking on naked feet wearing red robes and bruised faces. The hatred and fear coming from the crowd was quite evident as the torches and the pitchforks drew wild patterns above the townspeople’s heads. The light of the torches ignited the night, Wanda tensed under the grip of the woman standing beside her, the hairs on her arms raising up while her eyes narrowed to follow the events unfolding in front of her.

The four women were pushed forward, each one of them had a single knight standing behind them with heavy hands they were dragged to the four pillars tied to them facing the crowd. It didn’t take her too long to guess what was about to happen, and what exactly were those pillars; the pyres had been set up to ensure everyone could see the women died. The crowd cheered cruelly, laughing and cursing while the four women glared at the people with more bravery than they actually felt. 

“This was my coven.” Agatha spat out, her hands sparkling with a mixture of red and purple, “they saw my power, they read my intentions and instead of supporting me they dared to try and stop me…”

“I wonder why.” Wanda couldn’t hold the sarcasm behind her voice, Agatha pulled harshly on the ropes holding her neck making Wanda fall on her back.

“You really are more daring than your counterparts, dear. I would be careful, if I were to be honest I don’t need you alive.” 

Agatha caressed the necklace smirking at Wanda, the woman couldn’t hide her anger and the magic that was pulsating inside her was not enough to protect her from Agatha’s anger. Soon Wanda let out a scream of pain, her body twitching painfully until he couldn’t keep her eyes open and all she could think about was the searing pain on her limbs.

“It has been so long since I was just a lowly witch like them, afraid of fire and the angry crowd. I grew to be magnificent, to have power beyond anyone’s imagination…” Agatha continued with his rambling observing with gleaming eyes as the Major of the town stood forward proclaiming the sins of the four women.

“I just had to find you, Wanda, you and that so-called Scarlet Witch.” Wanda took a deep breath, half hearing the woman while watching with horror as the night above her head flickered from one setting to another.

“It was not easy, you know?”

Agatha flickered her hand to the right and soon Wanda was on her knees watching as the world around her changed. It was like watching a movie in a dome. The world changed to day and night flickering images of Agatha dragging her burnt body through the ground whispering spells that only she could hear. The image soon changed showing the passing of time, Agatha looking around the world and stealing the magic of others while seeking something out of desperation.

She finally found it after more than a century.

Wanda opened her eyes at the familiar setting, Kamar Taj stood under stormy winds and heavy snow. Agatha sneaked around, distracting the inhabitants of the temple by provoking landslides that would certainly have killed innocent people if it hadn’t been by the protectors of the temple. She had enough time to steal a single book.

“Y-you…you stole the..th-e…the Drakhold.” Wanda leaned forward resting her hands on the ground, she was shocked to find the snow under her hands was real and that everything she was seeing was not an illusion but a real event.

Her mind was trying to comprehend what was really happening. Her knowledge of the Darkhold had not been as broad as it had been for Strange and even Loki. But she did know one thing or two about the origins of her powers, Chaos Magic had been called and it gave her the power to bend reality and life in ways not many could access to. The darkness inside her had been contained by her family and her loved ones, but the same could not be said by others, apparently.

“I did.” Agatha finally answered tilting her head, soon the scene changed and they were taken to a place Wanda was familiar with.

Westview.

“Yet, I was still not strong enough, or the only one with powers beyond our imaginations.” Agatha made a face, stepping forward strolling down the streets with Wanda following her. “When the Avengers showed up it was quite evident that people with powers could no longer be hidden. It was my time to shine until you, my dear Wanda, showed up.”

Wanda saw herself in a building in Sokovia, it was a place she was familiar with yet the story that was unfolding in front of her had nothing to do with what she had lived once. Her other self struggled to control her powers, to live her life, to be who she was supposed to be but failed every single time. Agatha had never been too far from those events, and whenever Wanda failed, Agatha would clutch the young woman closer to her. The red and purple magic intertwined without anyone noticing.

“What did you do?” Wanda asked, finding herself in the middle of the square in Westview. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining right above their heads and not a single cloud in sight. 

Agatha smirked, her eyes changing colours to one of deep crimson, “I finally became who I am supposed to be, and soon my dear I will have all the power to bend the universes at my will. And now, I will finish what I started all those months ago with your pathetic counterpart and you will help me out with this.”

The world suddenly exploded around them, Wanda clenched her jaw closed, lifting her eyes to the sky to see the runes above her head.

“You…” She gritted her teeth, her eyes closing right away trying to gather her thoughts and power to stop the woman standing beside her.

Agatha chuckled darkly, her gripped on Wanda tightened allowing the influx of memories to invade the mind of the redhead. It was a life she was no familiar with, a suffering she had not experiment in the same way but that generate in her an understanding of the mess this world was in. She could see the moment Agatha entered the story, the failures and the almost victories until finally she got what she wanted.

A weakened Wanda Maximoff without anyone in the world to stand by her side.

Power.

And a way to get away with her plan.

“You…you won’t win.” Wanda finally got out; her eyes gleaming dangerously at the other woman who made a face rolling her eyes.

“I already did, dear. You just haven’t realized it yet.” Agatha let go of Wanda stepping away.

The brunette straightened up lifting her arms in front of her, her hands creating a purple mist while the necklace she wore zealously around her neck gleamed with intensity. Those eyes that moment’s ago had been brown, were now a deep black and the world around Wanda trembled under the electric shift of power the witch was gathering around her.

“Now, I have all the pieces in place, in my world…under my rules.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, “I will bend everyone to my will…and you, Wanda, will be nothing but a bad memory.”

The sky above their heads changed into darkness, the temperature dropped and Wanda felt the heavy weight of the atmosphere overwhelming her. She could sense her counterpart weakening inside the prison Agatha had chosen for her, her thoughts were still a mixture of memories she couldn’t quite place while the heavy emotions running through her soul threaten to overwhelm. Wanda could read the intentions behind the woman standing before her, she could read the hatred and violence behind those dark eyes. Lifting her chin to the sky, and her eyes showing off her own magic she decided if this was going to be her end, she would face it with defiance.

The ball of energy flickered in Agatha’s hand, the world stood still and the with smirked ready to give the final blow.

Agatha was so concentrated in her final goal, she never noticed she was no longer alone and what she though was illusions of her own invention were actually three people she didn’t think would be a problem until one of them stood right in front of her shielding Wanda from an imminent dead.

You had crossed the protective barrier around the strange town with a single thought in mind. Your intention was to get this over with and go back to your life on Norway, your heart beating fast while your mind protest for the easiness in which you were trying to go back to a life in which you were ignoring the woman that had never left your heart. It looked easy, just do your thing and then fixed whatever mess you were in and then…go back.

But the universe and the Powers That Be decided that it wouldn’t be just as easy as a flickered of your hand.

As soon as the three of you crossed the barrier you were face to face with flashes of memories that presented you with a film of the lives of Wanda and Agatha. The stories of the coven and the search for power, as well as the fall of Sokovia and Wanda’s struggles with her powers and her life.

“This is so wrong.” Y/N stated clenching her fist while stepping forward until she was finally standing beside you, the both of you stood on an empty street hearing the sounds of muffled conversation.

“Any plan?” You finally stated ignoring the piercing pain in your heart, your counterpart shrugged nodding to the darkened street that was flashing a mixture of red and purple.

“I think the best approach is a straightforward one.”

“Humph, so go there and just start fighting?” You replied with your lips breaking into a single smirk.

“Yep, pretty much.”

“That doesn’t sound like a solid plan.” America mumbled unsure, she furrowed her brows turning to you and then to your counterpart.

You turned to America placing a hand on her shoulder, “but it is what we have. You are going to stay here and wait.”

“But…I can fight! I can help!” America stepped back frowning, “I won’t be left behind…”

“I know you can fight, kiddo.” You replied tilting your head, “and that’s why you are staying behind.”

America opened her mouth to protest but Y/N came forth shaking her head.

“You are our backup, America. If anything were to happen to us and Wanda…” Y/N stated dropping her gaze for a moment, she turned to you until finally she locked eyes with America. “You need to do anything you can to ensure Agatha won’t scape, you understand?”

America pursed her lips, a part of her understood the mission but another part wanted to go straight ahead and face the woman that had been chasing her through the multiverse. America clenched her fists before nodding curtly and stepping back. You offered a single smile, your hand squeezing comfortingly the shoulder of the teen.

“There would be time, America, for now just watch our backs.”

“I will.”

“Good then, let’s go.”

You nodded curtly allowing your powers to spread in front of you, there was resistance when trying to reach the shadows and for the very first time you understood what your counterpart meant about your instinct. Everything in your body was screaming danger as soon as you came into contact with the shadows, your body shivered under the piercing weight of a million needles. You clenched your jaw closed stepping into the shadows with a single thought in mind.

Wanda.

Without any hesitation and moving through the invisible obstacles in that universe you appeared right before Wanda and Agatha just in time. Your eyes went black with your right arm lifting in front of you and creating a protective barrier just as Agatha’s hand came into contact with your shadows.

There was a flickering of power, the older woman snarled a curse lifting her left arm in the same fashion and launching a second attack. Your eyes opened slightly only for your shadows to slithered away grabbing the woman’s midsection to pull her away.

The world crumbled for an instant; Agatha was completely shocked to see not only you but your counterpart standing right in front of her. The woman straightened up, sweat rolling down her forehead while her right hand closed around her necklace and her other hand summoned the Darkhold.

“You really are a pain in my behind, but at least I won’t have to go around looking for you.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, her annoyance giving way to a confident smile. “Now, how about the two of you are good girls and give up, I would hate to spend my time submitting you to get what I want.”

You spread your feet positioning yourself in a fighting pose, your eyes narrowing slightly while the woman in front of you got her magic ready. But before Agatha could do anything at all, another set of shadows grabbed her arms putting them back making her woman lose her grip on the necklace and the Darkhold, your body tensed when Wanda stood up behind you, her voice quivering slightly as she pronounced your name with reverence and love.

“Hey, I hope you didn’t forget about me, Agatha dear.” Your counterpart said winking at Wanda while flickering her hands away, Agatha grunted freeing herself with a blast of energy and stepping a few feet away.

“Hn, I didn’t expect this.” She stated summoning the Darkhold, the world around the four of you changed, shaping itself in a familiar setting you had come to hate in your mind.

Westview.

Agatha never wavered in her confidence, if anything it seemed to grow the same way her magic was doing at the moment. You took a fighting stance, your shadows flickering around waiting for your command. You glanced out of the corner of your eye, Wanda had been trying to stand up but her knees and feet seemed uncooperative. Before you could offer any help, your counterpart came in wrapping her arms around Wanda while placing her forehead against Wanda’s one.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi.” Wanda replied with easiness, Y/N sighed in relief before placing a single kiss on her wife’s cheek.

“I miss you.” Y/N said softly, your heart shrank with emotion when your mind caught up with what was really happening.

You furrowed your brows, sweeping around the place until your darkened eyes fell on Agatha who was smiling playfully at you, her right hand playing absentmindedly with the necklace.

“Where is…Wanda?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda and Y/N both glanced at one another before they set their eyes on you.

A sinking feeling settled on your lower stomach, you were afraid of the answer when you realized this Wanda was trying to look everywhere but you. Tilting your head, you finally got a good look at your surroundings where the suburban houses filled out the imaginary world; the Wanda you had come to know from another universe held onto your counterpart tightly though right now her green eyes had been focusing straight ahead of you.

“Where is she? Wanda?” You asked again, this time around there was a demanding undertone that the other woman couldn’t ignore.

“Agatha has them under her control, she is using a powerful and dangerous book, Y/N.” Wanda could tell her answer was not of your liking, she stepped forward ready to join you and her wife in the fight glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes.

“You don’t know where she has Wanda?” You asked again never taking your eyes off of the older woman standing before you.

“I have my suspicions but I’m not sure how to interfere with that.” Wanda winced trying to ease out the pain on her neck, you frowned pursing your lips while taking a closer look at Agatha before your eyes found the same house you had come to know as Wanda’s place.

���Well, then let’s get this over with and get Wanda back.” Your arms stretched to the sides, the silent command spurred into action the shadows around you flying straight ahead to try and get Agatha.

Before your counterpart and the other Wanda could help you out, the creatures summoned by Agatha launched their first attack. A great explosion was heard while you evaded the flashing balls of power sent over by the witch.

The fight soon broke over, you didn’t notice it but the dome surrounding this part of the universe tremble sending waves of energy all through the world until they came into contact with the timeline and America. The young woman lifted her head, her eyes gleaming brightly as she tapped into her powers; bouncing on the balls of her feet she waited. America could hear the sound of explosions and the muffled sound of conversations and screams, she glanced at her hands thinking about the lessons she had been learning in the last couple of months. She closed her fists, opening them again before lifting her face. This people had been putting their lives on the line for her, they had been trying to protect her without expecting anything in exchanged. It was about time she helped them.

With a glance to the sky, America took a deep breath closing her eyes for a brief moment. As soon as she opened them, her lips curled into a single smile.

Time for payback.

The street had been completely destroyed during the fight.

There were no more homes standing up, or nice cosy gardens decorating the suburban setting. The world soon became a mixture of nothingness with the flickering holograms of reality that you could not touch. Agatha had learnt a thing or two since fighting with Wanda, you could see her ability to hold onto her powers while also making use of those she had stolen from your Wanda.

You shook your head hating the thoughts running around in your head, the overwhelming emotions that seemed to try and govern your decisions. You tried to focus your energy on what was right in front of you, the problem you were facing went beyond your own emotions. There would be a time for you to deal with them.

Agatha lifted her left hand above her head before letting it fall fast to her side, the sharp pain of your skin being pierce made you grunted. You could feel the wounds on your arms, your eyes igniting in a deep black that soon went right ahead to engulf the witch in front of you.

At some point, Agatha had become faster than your attacks, she stepped aside flickering her hands and soon two more creatures appeared out of nowhere.

“Is that all you got?” You asked almost losing your concentration when you heard the voice of your counterpart in the back.

“Get away from my wife!”

Agatha smirked grabbing her necklace, tilting her head she settled her eyes on you.

“Oh, dear, you would be surprised with the number of tricks I can bring on you.” Agatha stepped forward, her feet never touching the ground. “I could make your dreams come true; I can be what Wanda never was for you.”

You pressed your lips together taking into a fighting stance.

“You know nothing about my dreams, and I am certainly not looking for a replacement.”

Agatha snorted her hand gripping tightly on the necklace, soon a red mist grew from the space between her neck and chest and the world around her turned crimson. Agatha stretched out her arms and the whole world vibrate around you changing in the blink of an eye.

“Are you sure? I can tell by the pathetic way you are always looking at her, but the way you talk about her that there is nothing else you want more than her…” Agatha’s voice rose above the new scene, your eyes flickered around while your stomach dropped when you realized where she had taken you to.

For a brief moment you could make out the screams and grunts of the fight going on right outside this small world. You took a deep breath trying to get a hold of your powers ignoring the runes glowed above your head a clear sign that this was still being controlled by Agatha. You creased your brows knowing that your options were limited if the other woman decided to use her magic at its full potential. She was playing with you, leading you on and one until it was quite clear she was mocking you by placing you right in front of a memory that had broken your heart at some point.

It was playing in slow motion, the video and the room with everyone just as shocked as you were to see Wanda in the arm’s of another. The passing of time, every single moment that you had suffered the betrayal while facing your sadness alone in a world of pure darkness. Your fit closed, the shadows on your feet stirred violently sensing your anger when you heard Agatha laughing. Mocking you.

“How did it make you feel knowing she was happier with a man?” Agatha purred making sure to be as far away from you as she could. “How did it feel knowing you were never going to be chosen in this world? In this universe? I bet it pierce your soul knowing you were the one destined to be alone.”

“Shut up.”

“I can make it go away, I can help you out…say the words, and I will make sure you get what you want.”

Your knees gave under your weight, furrowing your brows you tried to close yourself to the mocking film playing around you trying to focus on the fight. Agatha chuckled tilting her head, this time around the runes above her head pulsated and the two creatures grew before your eyes attacking viciously at your counterpart and Wanda making sure that your conversation and fight with Agatha wouldn’t be interrupted. Agatha centred her eyes on you, her hand grabbing the necklace while the same video seemed to be on replay.

“She won’t be a problem for you anymore, and after I’m done with you…you won’t have to worry about the pain of your broken heart, dear.” The laughter sent shivers down your back, but it was everything you were waiting for.

Your lips curled into a smile, your right hand twirled clockwise and the shadows broke into waves catching up with the witch. Just as you had located her, ready to give her a lesson, the woman was ready to use the magic Wanda and Scarlet were giving to her to make sure the next stage of her plan could be completed.

It never happened, though.

Your attack never stopped reaching out to your objective, while Agatha tried to return the hit she was surprised by a sudden punch to her face. The punch glow white, and her body bounced back and forth until she lost the hold on the necklace, America Chavez didn’t stop there and your shadows went straight to hold onto the witch to bring her down.

Everything happened so fast, your eyes went from America to Agatha and finally to the object on the ground. The necklace bounced on the ground, and without thinking too much you went right ahead to grab it. The object was warm to the touch, you could tell by the vibrations that magic had been contained between the object and this magic could only belong to one person. You closed your hand around it, you could sense Scarlet deep inside your mind. It didn’t take you too long to recognize the woman that had been haunting your dreams as of late, right with her you could also sense Wanda trying to hide, trying to survive.

“NO!”

The scream coming from Agatha was everything you needed to drop the necklace and stomp on the piece of jewellery creating an explosion that blew you and everyone around you away.

“Humph…” Your mouth opened letting out a shaky breath, your body hurt all over while your eyes got use to the sparkling lights that appeared before them when your head hit the ground.

“Y/N!!” You tried to sit up, a pair of arms held onto you for a brief moment until you were capable of making out the figure sitting beside you.

America had her brows creased; her eyes shone with worry while she tried to hold you up. The fighting was still ringing inside your ears, your counterpart was finishing the last of the dimensional creatures while you could spot her Wanda holding back against Agatha. For a brief moment, panic rose inside you the sudden need to throw up became almost to much just as you leaned forward trying to stand up your eyes looking frantically for the women that had been haunting your dreams and reality as of late.

“They are unconscious…” America started but she could not finish her sentence as you stood up without any warning.

“Wanda…” Her name escaped your lips without meaning to, at that moment with your body exhausted and your mind already carrying the weight of so many memories and thoughts all you could do was staggered forward until you reached both women.

You stood on shaky legs glancing from Wanda to Scarlet, both of them unconscious wearing the same bags under their eyes and the bruises all over their faces and arms. You hesitated not really knowing where you should focus your attention until, as an afterthought you went to Wanda. Turning her to the side you ensure she was comfortable, her lip had a deep cut and her forehead had traces of a scratch that left her with blood and dirt. She looked thinner than you remember, with her face wearing still the same defeated expression she wore to your home all those months ago.

“Wanda.” You said her name again, this time around firmer and demanding, your hand trying to help her out until you heard her exclamation of pain. “Wanda, are you alright?”

The young woman stirred in your arms, her eyes flickering slightly until she opened her lips and let out an exclamation of pain. You put her back on the ground, turning around you could see Scarlet was stirring awake as well while the fight seemed to have no end.

“Y/N…” You turned to see Wanda’s eyes fluttering open, her green orbs looking back at you with sadness and tenderness that had your heart beating a tad bit faster.

“Hey, are you alright?” You leaned in but Wanda looked away helping herself up, you tired to assist her but your body froze for a moment unsure on how to proceed with the woman sitting before you.

“I…I am a little sore.” She replied, her eyes never leaving the form of Scarlet, Wanda furrowed her brows glancing at her hands then back at the other woman. “She…she is…Scarlet Witch.”

Her words trembled as she pronounced them, her face lowered thinking to herself knowing full well your attention was on her. She remembered the moment she had separated herself from the legend, the words of Agatha had haunted her at that moment when she realized there was something inside her giving her powers a deeper meaning. She had hated that idea, and the world that had been created out of it.

When Wanda finally dared to look up she found herself looking into your eyes. Her heart stirred with emotion, the words that wanted to pour out of her mouth entangled around her throat for she knew it was not the time for a heart-to-heart conversation. She wished everything had turned out different, but after her confrontation with Agatha and everything she had discovered whiled trapped in that reality she knew what she needed to do.

“Can you…help me up?” She asked shyly, you nodded curtly stretching your hands for her to take them.

She was cold under your touch, and a little sweaty.

Her cheeks coloured pink, and her eyes glanced everywhere but at you. You felt a piercing pain going through your chest, but you ignored it while helping the other woman up. For a brief moment, you thought she could walk on her on until Wanda’s legs trembled and almost gave up on her. You caught her just on time, her body pressing against yours making your traitorous heart stopped for a brief moment.

“How convenient, Wanda.” Scarlet was on her knees; she had sweat falling down her face breathing hard and glaring at the two of you though her eyes were completely focused on Wanda. “You…you don’t do nothing, yet you get to be with her.”

Wanda tensed in your arms, she took a deep breath while pushing you away taking one step at a time until she was standing before Scarlet. You lifted your eyes to see America just as focused on the two women as you were, the sound of the fighting was till rumbling in your ears but it was almost impossible to pay attention to something else that wasn’t the scene playing out in front of you.

Wanda held herself up, conscious of the hatred inside the eyes of Scarlet.

Inside her own eyes.

“We don’t get to be with her.” Wanda mumbled dropping her shoulders, tears gathering in her eyes as she spoke. “I’ve been trying to make amends but I just…”

“You always failed, and you make it worse.” Scarlet spat out lifting her chin in defiance, her position on the ground was not an inconvenience. If anything, it gave her the power that Wanda couldn’t show at the moment.

“I tried to reach out to her, to make her world and mine…to…”

“I know.” Wanda offered a weakened smile, looking out of the corner of her eyes she could see you had your attention on the both of them. “I tried to do the same. I just…I can’t do it alone, and I’m tired of failing every time. I don’t…”

Wanda swallowed down her tears, she leaned in lifting her left hand until she was cupping Scarlet’s cheek. Red mist appeared in Wanda’s hand, and soon her eyes as much as those of Scarlet were shining brightly.

“It hurts so much.” Scarlet said letting the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just…

“I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be without her.” Wanda finally said her own tears falling down her face.

You clenched your jaw, looking away for a moment while your chest felt a myriad of butterflies fluttering inside.

“But I can’t keep fighting alone, or divided.” Wanda stated, she wiped away Scarlet’s tears before adding. “I think we need to be one, you saw just how powerful we are together and…”

“You need to fix this, or we would never…”

“I know, but this may not end the way you want it.”

Scarlet drifted her attention to you, her eyes found those of yours and in there you could read everything you had been so afraid to interpret the first time. There was pain and sadness, emotions that broke into her heart in ways you could only imagine, and then there was love. You looked away stepping back under the intensity of such a stare, you missed the broken smile on Scarlet’s face and the defeat she wore while facing Wanda again.

“I know, I think we will cope when the time for that comes.” Wanda nodded in understanding; her hands gleamed brighter than ever while Scarlet placed her hand on top of hers.

“I promised you I won’t give up.”

“Good, then let’s do this.”

The crimson mist grew around them glowing with a bright, red light making you trembled under the intensity of the magic. You could see America kneeling down, her eyes going wide open as they stare the scene unfolding before her eyes.

Wanda and Scarlet were no longer two different entities.

Standing before you was a single woman, her head was adorned with a red crown that made match with the bodice and the black leggings. Wanda stood there with magic coming from her hands, her eyes a deep shade of red that gathered the power you had always known she had in her. The woman stood still for a moment, she glanced at her body and her hands before her face lifted to stare at you.

You tried to hide your expression, your lips parting to speak but not words came out. Wanda hesitated before nodding her feet moving slowly until she turned around making her way to the fight.

“Is she gonna be okay?” America stood right beside you, squirting at the woman now using her magic to help her counterpart in the fight against Agatha.

“I think so…” You trailed off finally realizing that even though the both of them had finally become one, Wanda was still wearing the bruises and the exhaustion on her face.

“Are you okay?” America asked quite concern, you turned to her offering a half smile.

“I will be.” You sighed scratching the back of your neck. “Stay here and be careful.”

“What are you gonna do?” The teen asked slightly scare, you offered her a half smile turning towards the fight that was a tied between the Wandas and Agatha.

“What we came to do, just stay out of trouble and be ready to help us go back home, okay kiddo?”

America doubt there was anything she could do, but she didn’t contradict you. With a single nodded of her head she watched as you ran towards the fight, your shadows already creating a protective barrier around you and Wanda. Something, America though, you probably were not aware of.

_____________________________________________________________

Loki rolled his eyes once more, he was tired of hearing the fight going on in the meeting room while he stood by the window waiting for the right moment to intervene.

The world outside was highly active, Monday had always been one of the busiest days in the calendar and that day was not the exception. The young god leaned forward, his fingertips touching the window while his eyes observed the golden and green lights of the timelines. His eyes soon fell upon the one he did not recognise, a red line that he could not tamper with but that he was certain contained the answers to the questions everyone in the room were posing.

Loki turned around his eyes finding those of Billy who had not leave his side ever since Pietro brought him into the Avenger’s Tower. The young boy had his eyes narrowed, his hands playing with invisible threats only he could see.

For a brief moment, Loki stood there observing the child with growing curiosity. Billy was tapping the air with his fingertips, concentrated in something only visible to him. Loki frowned with his mind already forming an idea of what exactly was happening.

“Billy, what are you doing?” The question was low enough for the child to hear it but not for the rest of the room to notice it.

Billy lifted his face this time around his eyes went wide opened showing off the innocence of his age, but also the brightness he had inherited from both his mothers.

“Mommy always says to follow my instincts.” There was conviction in his tone, his hands tapping still as if waiting for something.

“And, what are they telling you?” Loki knelt to be on the same height of the child, Billy tilted his head creasing his brows before answering.

“Uncle Loki, momma and mommy need my help…look!”

Loki looked in the direction Billy was pointing to, he gasped with his eyes wide open and a smile forming on his lips.

“Billy you are a genius.” Billy offered a timid smile glancing at Loki shyly.

“Really?”

“Yes, and I think thanks to you we are going to be able to help Wanda and Y/N.” Loki could see the excitement in the little boy, he couldn’t help but smile back.

Without giving to much attention to the room, Loki sat right beside Billy closing his eyes before letting his magic to spread around. Billy was slightly confused at first, he had continued working on invisible threads trying to get into contact with them. Now there was something different, with his uncle sitting beside him Billy could sense the magic. He pressed his lips together before sitting down and, imitating Loki, he closed his eyes and just went with his instincts.

_____________________________________________________________

Whatever power she had tried to drain from Wanda and even Scarlet was no longer active to give her the stamina or even the strength to keep up with the fight. She was not even up to sustain the world she had created by tampering on the Chaos magic she could barely tolerate.

Wanda Maximoff gathered her power while circling the woman in front of her, she could feel the hurt she had created for her counterpart had reached out beyond the boundaries of the multiverse and it was something she would not tolerate. Beside her she could sense Y/N, a close shadow that was ready to jump in when necessary to offer protection and support; Wanda couldn’t help but smile.

“You won’t win.” Agatha tried to put up with a fight, she tried to hold onto the last threads of power inside her to get into the fight but she could no longer hold onto her powers for far too long.

You came from behind her your hands wrapping around her wrists while your shadows covered her feet spreading through her legs and body. Agatha was struggling, her eyes going wide open just as she started chanting in a language you did not recognize. Wanda opened her eyes wide, she stepped closer spreading her arms and chanting just the same, the runes trembling right above your head just before a myriad of images surrounded you breaking the darkness before going completely white.

“NO!” Agatha let out a guttural exclamation, her elbow hitting you square in the face but whatever strength she had in her to fight was haltered by your counterpart finishing what you started.

Wanda knew at that moment why she had been feared by Agatha, the power that was held inside her sent electric waves through her body. The power concentrated on her hand, and soon a single jewel showed on her palm while her counterpart continued with the ritual. The runes appeared right above her head, and without any indications, she started chanting as well.

You stepped back falling on your ass, blood rolling down your nose just as you saw the black figured being swallowed by the jewel. There was a moment of flickering lights and then, it stopped. Both Wanda’s stood right in front of the other, the jewel resting comfortably on the hand of Y/N’s wife.

The jewel took into a purplish colour, falling to the ground with a single thump.

The world went silent.

The darkness around you grew, with the stars twinkling right above your head.

Everything was still, with only your hard breathing breaking the tension around your ears. Your body was aching, your mind filled with memories of the past and the present all of them pilling up to overwhelmed you line of thoughts. You closed your eyes trying to forget and wait for everything to be back the way it was in the last year.

But you knew it was just an illusion.

Your world had been shaken up the moment Wanda and America showed up at your doorstep. The fight with Agatha brought back the memories you had tried to forget, it brought with it the truths you were not ready to face. You had always thought that you could outrun your motions, but the world has always taught you this was not possible. Not for someone like you, and certainly not for someone like Wanda.

When you opened your eyes you saw Wanda, your Wanda staring at you, but before anything could be done or said her eyes rolled back passing out of exhaustion. You caught up to her on time, her body falling on yours your face a mask of pure concern just as you ensure she rested comfortably on the ground.

You knew everyone was looking at you, but you decided to ignore them while checking Wanda over to make sure nothing else happened to her.

“Are you alright?” The other Wanda came to you, her voice sent shivers down your back, you didn’t dare to lift your eyes for fear of revealing far too much.

Instead, you nodded taking deep breaths while feeling the ground under your knees, without thinking too much about it, your hand brushed Wanda’s hair tenderly. The attention you were giving to her was something you never thought you would do again. The woman standing beside you shifted her weight and soon she was sitting right beside you; this time around you did turn around only to see her staring at you with big, curious eyes.

“She is still unconscious, but I believe she is no longer two halves of the same person.” Wanda lifted her face to the sky, her lips parting slightly. “Her magic is still erratic, but I believe she would be okay.”

“What about Agatha?” Your question entangled in your throat, scrunching up your nose you decided to conceal your emotions not ready to face the conversation or to address the white elephant hanging around you two.

“She will be trapped in this jewel until you and her decided what should be done with her.” Wanda handed over the jewel, you pursed your lips in disgust before grabbing the artifact.

“The book she had with her, it is the Darkhold, isn’t it?”

“It is.” You nodded this time around locking your eyes with hers.

“Are you taking it with you?”

Wanda broke into an easy smile shaking her head, “it’s not mine but yours. It would be better off in your world, where it belongs.”

“It should be destroyed.” You leaned back resting your hands on the ground.

“It should, but that would be your prerogative not ours.”

Your eyes drifted around the place before they settled on America and Y/N, both of them were engaged in a heavy discussion and you could teel this was the moment America had been waiting for a very long time. The feelings of guiltiness and sadness had been quite evident in her when you two met, right now this was the chance the young woman was waiting for to make amends. To reach for forgiveness.

“So, any idea how we are going to leave this place?”

Wanda nodded leaning back until she pointed to America and your counterpart.

“She is ready to use her powers, I believe she is the only one that can help us right now.”

Not sooner had Wanda said this the world started to tremble, the light of the stars flickered until they disappeared one by one. You straightened up with Wanda standing up as soon as she noticed this.

“I guess…we should try it right now.” You stood up turning to glance at the darkened world, everything was coming in and out of reality with the ground shaking for small periods of time.

“It was a matter of time.” Wanda placed a hand on your forearm, you couldn’t help the tension on your muscles the other woman softened her features stepping closer. “You will be back, and she will need help to recover from this.”

“I know.”

“Are you ready for that?” The question caught you off guard, you knew what was expected of you and what you could do with the woman that had broken your heart at some point.

You could hide behind that excuse until the end of time, but it would run out of any validity at some point. Sooner or later, you knew you would have to face Wanda and decisions must be made. The Wanda standing before you softened her features, her words would made your mind pound with the imminent decisions you would need to make.

“How deep is your anger, and how deep goes your love for you to not face what your heart already knows?” Wanda leaned in and you found yourself in a embrace you didn’t know you miss. Her voice was just a whisper, but it was everything you needed at the moment. “I won’t tell you what to do, but I will tell you my love to follow your instincts. They had never failed you.”

America glanced around the group with a nervous smile.

She glanced at her hands then back at you and Y/N, the words of encouragement were ringing inside her head while she tried to gather the courage to move onto the next step.

“Just think about it, kiddo.” Y/N stated grabbing the hand of her wife, America almost winced at those words because her mind had been a myriad of thoughts since they delegate the task of going back home on her.

You fixed the unconscious woman in your arms, putting her closer to you while looking over at America. The young woman closed her eyes, ready to open the portal when Wanda stopped her.

“Wait, America.” The redhead stepped closer placing her hand on America’s shoulder. “Remember, it is more than opening a portal, is about opening the right one.”

“I know, I know…it’s just…easier said than done.” America pursed her lips, she took a deep breath closing her eyes.

“Then, let yourself be guided by your emotions and what you remember of the place you want to go to.” Wanda squeezed the shoulder of the teen tenderly, and for that brief moment America felt it.

It was vague but it was there.

The same kind of energy she had felt on Wanda and Y/N, it was familiar yet different. She had felt it when she first fell upon that universe, the twins had carried with them a strange kind of energy that seemed to engulf the best of Wanda and Y/N.

America closed her eyes and, without thinking to much, she followed the familiarity of that energy. Her mind bringing over the memories of her time in that land, finally easing out her fears and trusting in the women she had surrounding her.

The young woman clenched her fist, and with a single punch she opened the star-shaped portal.

All of them were ready to go home.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[neo-kosmos]

hi all, shelby here! sorry for the total lack of activity on this blog for the past few years. we have been working diligently behind the scenes on our discord server as we wrote the drafts of the novels

if you haven’t heard, danny broke up with me and brian. we are getting neokosmos in the divorce as it has always been my baby and brainchild and brian has done virtually all of the prose writing since 2020. danny has wanted to step away for quite some time, and we are super proud of him for following his own path in life. the two of us will always be best friends but our time as partners and creative partners has come to an end.

we will be changing the name of neokosmos because danny is no longer working on and it is just not the same project that it was back in 2015. its a lot more adult, its a novel, the story and world is so much more developed and honestly we need a fresh start. as soon as we can we will be relaunching everything with the new name and posting the first five chapters for free for everyone to read to see if you wanna join us and make it happen. both brian and i are too disabled to work normal jobs so we need to make writing and selling artwork as our main gigs or we will be kind of fucked.

thank you to everyone who has believed in us over the years and especially our loyal patrons. its been hundreds of thousands of words and concept art and prep over the last 9 years and im so stoked to finally share what we have been cooking with more people. i started this project as a 23 year old recent grad with no idea what i was doing in life, and now at 32 i finally feel confident enough that what i am making is ACTUALLY GOOD????

so yeah, stay tuned, the whole project is about to enter Phase 3. love y’all

-shelby