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apparitionism · 2 months ago

Text

Real

Can’t believe tomorrow is a particular Wednesday already; this season has rushed in like the most foolish of fools, and as a result I’m rushing to push out this new holiday story... because I too am a fool. This is set post-series (including the nonexistent season), though not by much, as the first little bit will make clear. It’s kind of all about fallout. And who wants what, and why, and whether they’re willing to work, wait, and do other things that probably start with “w” to get it. Anyway, season’s greetings to all—and to all (including, eventually, Myka and Helena, I promise) a good night.

Real

“She’s back,” Artie announces one autumn night, and before anyone (Myka) can fully register what that might mean...

...she is.

Is, is, is... a distillation of so much of what Myka instantaneously knows again as possibility, as hopes and wishes jolting back to life, as again (still) the only presence that instantly makes Myka aware of herself as a body, one that responds with barely controllable fervor to that presence—that other body.

Artie goes on saying words, “reinstated” and “agent” among them, but the roaring of Myka’s blood drowns them out.

She fears she will spontaneously combust. She would rather spontaneously combust. That would be better than having to consciously keep from spontaneously combusting, in response to Helena existing, to her moving and speaking, in a proximity that Myka should prize but that her body, fervently responding, informs her is completely insufficient.

Myka escapes as soon as she can, to sit in the dark of her room, to sit and process, but her usual, reliable processing processes fail her.

They always have, where Helena is concerned.

All she does is sit, empty but for the replaying of Helena’s entry into the dining room, her stride so sure, her aspect so unlike the dismissive, shrinking shrugs of Boone... that had sent Myka’s soul soaring.

Helena had greeted them all with good humor, her manner and words to everyone so convivial. So convivial, but also: to everyone, and that is what finds clawed purchase in Myka’s heart, here in the dark.

Here in the dark, Myka viciously tells herself that she deserves no special acknowledgment. Why would you?

She also tells herself, This will get easier.

****

In some ways it does. For example, Myka’s shock at, and subsequent need to recover from, each new sight of Helena lessens somewhat. Or maybe it’s that her body becomes accustomed to absorbing the impact.

In others, it profoundly doesn’t.

Case in painful point: one evening when they’re all cleaning up after dinner, Claudia says to Helena, “So can I ask you something?”

“Clearly you can. You just did,” Helena bats back, in play, and envy stabs Myka.

“You’re as bad as Artie,” Claudia groans. “But here goes: are you still seeing that lady?”

Terror appropriates envy’s knife, gashing anew. Myka has not let herself begin to imagine how to get such a question answered, and here Claudia just says it while lowering a stack of dirty plates into the sink.

Helena’s airy reply: “Still the case. Obviously we’re long-distance at the moment.”

Something previously un-knifed in Myka collapses at that “obviously.” Obviously. Obviously. Obviously, the Warehouse return had not entailed a renouncing of Helena’s non-Warehouse connections. As Myka had obviously, she now sees, believed—hoped!—it would.

The depth and breadth of her error sends her to her room again, lightless, wounded, empty, waiting for time to pass until she once again has something to do.

Such as a retrieval with Pete.

The next one of which proceeds well—it’s not a big, dangerous deal, but rather a matter of a sad, not villainous, loner seeking connection via an artifact-compromised comic-book message board. Pete’s his enthusiastic self about the comics of it all, and Myka lets it lull her into a near-trance of this is how it used to be, before everything.

Until they’re on the plane home, when Pete says, “So H.G.’s back.”

“Thanks for the update,” she says, bracing herself, because of course that won’t be all, because that would be too easy.

“And what about that girlfriend?”

“What about her?” Well, that was stupid: asking some reflex question she doesn’t want answered. She braces herself again.

“You think she’s her one?”

That’s worse than she’d imagined. Myka doesn’t want to go anywhere near that Schrödinger-box, for fear that peeking inside would reveal a very dead cat. Would in fact be the deciding factor in that cat’s demise.

After a stretch of silence, Pete says, “Bet she’s not. So what are you gonna do about it?”

What does he mean? Do about the girlfriend not being, or being, Helena’s one? Do about Helena being back in the first place? She would rather avoid nailing that down—another let’s-not-look Schrödinger box.

“I’m going to ignore it,” she says.

“That’s not healthy. I mean, I get it, but it’s not healthy.”

He coughs ostentatiously. Meaningfully? Myka doesn’t know. Can’t tell. Won’t ask. She hates how she feels compelled to leave this cat in limbo too, just so she can shift away from any potential situational consequences.

If only she had resisted the pressure to shift her definition of love.

She tries for resistance now, even though it’s too late: “I’m not going to try to keep her from doing what she wants to do.”

He cocks his head in that exaggerated what-are-you-saying way. “I thought you might though. Try.”

Myka is tempted to demand, “Why would you think that,” but she knows why he would think it, and revisiting that fight is an impossibility. Especially now.

“But you’re not trying,” he says. His tone, though, ratchets down the danger. It’s a relief. “So why not?”

Now Myka’s tempted to give some indignant “I don’t have to justify my behavior to you” answer... and yet. She does owe him more than that. Especially now, having misled him so severely before, she owes him some decent measure of honesty. So she says it as plain as she can: “Because people should do what they want to do.”

“Huh.” He puts on his “thinking” face—the real one, not the cartoon. “But you’re not doing what you want to do.”

“What?” Myka says, playing dismissively dumb. Hoping he’ll give some dumb response.

“You want to stop her doing what she’s doing.” Myka shakes her head at that, trying to pretend it’s dumb, but Pete rolls his eyes. He sees the weakness. How can he be getting her so right in this when he got her so so so wrong before? But then again she’d got herself wrong... “So why wouldn’t you do what you want to do?” he finishes.

Want, want, want. Myka wishes he would quit using the word.

Yes it’s her fault for using it first. Yes she should have shut him down forcefully to begin with. Yes that applies to situations preceding this one.

In any case, wanting is pointless. It literally does not matter: its only product is empty space, a horrific gaping sink, a vacuum as vast as space itself.

So she says, as pedantically as she can, “Because if one person’s wants affect another person’s wants, that’s a different category of... you know what? Never mind.”

“You only ever say ‘never mind’ when you know I’m right.”

“What? I say ‘never mind’ a lot.”

“Which means...” He taps his temple.

“No. No it does not.” But she does smile.

Pete bobs his head as if she’s actually agreed with him, and so they end on a familiar, jokey note. It’s far better than they could have managed some months ago, in the immediate aftermath of their... mistake? Misunderstanding? Mismanagement? Misadventure? Misapprehension?

Stop dictionarying, she tells herself. Despite its being one of her default ways of trying to process confusion, it rarely delivers the clarity she seeks. At any rate, their short-lived whatever-it-was was a mis-everything.

She takes out the book she’s brought with her, H Is for Hawk, so as to fill her head with Heather MacDonald’s solitude rather than her own. She has lately found that overlaying her own thoughts with someone else’s ruminations is quieting, so she’s reading even more than usual... it beats sitting in darkness, waiting. Which she supposes means she should thank Helena (thank her) for her extensive new knowledge: of, here, grief and falconry, but also, the Wright brothers, Joan of Arc, India’s partition, séances in the 1920s, Salem’s witch hunts, various aspects of the Supreme Court...

Erudition must surely outweigh emotionalism Extremity. Enthrallment? Embitterment.

Stop dictionarying.

****

Relentlessly, the holidays approach. Myka tries to ignore them too, particularly their invitation to soften. Unhealthy, Pete’s accusation echoes.

But in speaking to Pete, Myka had lied: she isn’t really ignoring anything Helena-related. In a folder of significant size in her mind, she stores a cascade of spreadsheets in which she tallies and tracks as many of Helena’s movements, statements, interactions as she can, in as much detail as possible: e.g., it wasn’t enough for Myka to get Steve to tell her about his retrievals with Helena—those accounts, while captivating, were incomplete, secondhand—so she has made perverse use of her hard-earned Warehouse database access to read Helena’s actual mission reports, like some pathetic online stalker. They’re literarily significant, she tries to use as additional justification, ignoring the fact that no one other than Warehousers will ever know how or why.

It’s not that she’s hoping to gain insight from any of this; the activity is simply itself. A flat gather of data. For those spreadsheets.

Which she uses, of course, to torture herself, not least for her damning inability to gain insight. Thus proving Pete wrong: it isn’t ignoring things that’s unhealthy. No, it’s paying them attention—stupid, pointless attention—that causes disease.

That’s true, but Myka genuinely does not know how much longer she can suffer making herself sick.

Lovesick, she sometimes thinks... but that makes “love” too prominent in the mix. No, the “sick” is what matters, and it is chronic, not acute. Which means it must be managed rather than cured, and she will manage it, because she has to: because she is an agent and Helena is an agent and they live in the same house and say the same mutually polite “good morning” to each other each day.

Sometimes Myka wisps a wish, in the wake of one of those morningtides whose undertow she cannot reveal, that she could begin to shift her thinking, to try floating above rather than falling under, the better to work her way to commencing the actual ignoring.

But then Helena will talk to Steve about the particulars of his Buddhist practice, or to Claudia about a joint invention project’s feasibility, or to Artie about a disputed wrinkle of history, or even to Pete about, bizarrely yet bizarrely frequently, which menu items should be avoided at fast-food chains... and Myka enters each new datum into the spreadsheets out of avid habit, all while ferally wishing everything different—even, some days, heretically, Helena gone. And while castigating herself for having wished, before, so stupidly inchoately, pleading with the universe to let Helena come back. More: to send Helena back.

How very monkey’s-paw of you, she jeers, to leave out specifics. In particular, to leave out “to me.” Send Helena back to me.

Before Helena came back, Myka was lost; now she’s still lost, but differently. And if there is one thing Myka has never liked—in fact, has always feared—it’s change.

So in truth she can probably suffer making herself sick for quite some time. As long as nothing about the making—or the sickness—changes.

****

The days leading up to Christmas itself are blessedly busy. On the 22nd, Myka and Steve head to West Virginia to bag a problematic coal-miner’s lamp; the work keeps them away until Christmas Eve, and if Myka happens to linger a bit longer at the Warehouse after Steve goes back to the B&B once they’ve deposited the artifact... well, that’s because she’s very conscientious about filing reports in a timely fashion.

In fact, she lingers a lot longer, and she’s happy to arrive home to a mostly silent B&B... however, she is instantly deposited into precisely the sort of situation she’d hoped to avoid: she must walk past Helena, who is in the living room, alone, with the television on. Impossible to slink past undetected, and thus rude to try—particularly once Helena says, “Welcome home.”

How disorienting, for Helena to be here and to say that. Worse, the articulation seems to ring of... before. When Myka was special.

But she is imagining that. She must be.

“What are you watching?” she asks, though she doesn’t need to. Helena is watching the Yule Log.

“A strangely mesmerizing facsimile of a fire,” Helena says, without looking up. “Do I strike you as hypnotized?”

You strike me. Myka’s thought stops there, true as can be. Aloud, she says, “You know what it is, right?”

Now Helena looks up. She blinks at Myka and nods, oddly soft, childlike. “I consulted Google.”

Helena is absurdly fond of Google. Myka struggles to keep from finding this absurdly charming. She struggles similarly with the way in which Helena articulates the word itself—every witnessed occurrence of which is represented in the spreadsheets. so Myka is painfully aware of the way Helena puts a slight formal emphasis on both syllables, such that it sounds, in a capping absurdity, as if she’s saying she consulted Gogol.

Not that acquiring input from a dead Russian writer would necessarily be all that different, absurdity-wise, from having instant access to a towering percentage of the world’s collective knowledge. And Helena probably understands that congruence, if that’s what it is, better than Myka ever could.

Myka knows she’s thinking herself down treacherous paths; she should say goodnight and walk away. But it’s Christmas Eve, and she gives herself a present she shouldn’t want but feels she has earned, earned by ignoring—or, to the contrary, recording—so strenuously. She has done such hard work. So she lets herself ask, “Why are you so focused?”

“Pete gave me a choice: watch the Yule Log or talk to Myka. I believe he thought I would reject the former as unworthy of my attention. Yet here I watch, mesmerized.”

“Since when do you do what Pete tells you?” But thanks, I guess, for letting me know where I stand. She can’t then hold back a jab: “Anyway, shouldn’t you be spending the holiday with the famous Giselle?”

Helena blinks again. This time it’s not at all childlike. “That’s why he wanted me to talk to you. But to answer your previous question: since he told me he’s in love with you.”

He... what? “What?”

“You asked me since when do I do what Pete tells me. I’m answering.”

Keep up, Myka; keep up. “When did he tell you that?”

“This evening. As part of what I fear—or hope?—was intended as a Christmas gift.”

“For you?” That’s not keeping up.

“No.”

“Then for who?” That’s not either.

“Whom.”

“Well, excuse my grammar, but I’m a little weirded out.” This is the most extended conversation she and Helena have had since... before. That’s destabilizing enough to her ability to concentrate on words. but what, exactly, is she supposed to do with these words?

“Weirded out,” Helena says, an unexpected affirmation. “As was I. I wasn’t aware.” She makes a small “huh” noise, as if she has to bridge her way to what’s next. “That the two of you had been involved.”

Oh. Hence the bridge—but this is a shifting surprise. “I thought someone—Claudia—would have told you. Must have told you.” Must have, and that in turn must have contributed, Myka had been sure, to Helena’s lack of engagement. She’s always known your judgment was abysmal, she’d lashed herself, based on those must haves, and this is certainly fuel for that fire.

“Our discussions have been more focused on her future. And my past. And technology, of course.”

“Of course,” Myka says. And then, quick, before she loses her nerve: “It didn’t take.”

“Technology?”

“The involvement.”

“I gathered that from its current status.”

“Right.” The conversation, such as it is, should probably end here... but something is off. “Wait. You said he said he is in love with me.”

“Yes.”

Myka had believed it was over. All over. The idea of having to deal with it, with any aspect of it, in perpetuity, or at least with no clear sundown, preemptively exhausts her. And it rekindles her anger at the entire situation, at its utter pointlessness. “I don’t know what to do with that,” she says. She immediately regrets the admission.

“He said he’ll get over it.”

“Well, that’s something. I guess.” It comes out grudging, and that’s another admission Helena shouldn’t be privy to.

“He said you won’t.”

“What? Get over it? No, the problem was that I wasn’t ever in love. With him.” She’s saying far too much. She supposes it’s fortunate that she’s looking at this repetitively flickery video loop, rather than into Helena’s eyes. She supposes also that said loop is a reasonable metaphor for how her life has been proceeding. Lately. Before, and lately.

“He said that too.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re losing me.”

“Interestingly, he said a version of that as well.”

“That you were losing him?” Not hard to believe; sometimes Pete can barely follow a laser pointer.

Helena focuses her gaze on Myka again, adamantine. “That I was losing you.”

And just like that, Myka is through the looking glass. Trapped like Alice, trying to get out. “Why would you care?” she chokes.

Helena lowers her brow, a stern schoolmarm confronting an intransigent pupil. “Because as I mentioned, he said—and seemed quite certain—that you won’t get over being in love.”

Myka knows now what’s next. Helena is about to say, “With me.” Because once again: that fight.

Oh yes I will. That’s what the ignoring is for. When I work my way around to it, that’s what it’s for.

“I didn’t know,” is what Helena actually says, clearly taking Myka’s silence as affirmation of those unuttered words.

“Oh please. Like I could have been any more obvious.” Obviously. She says it with contempt at herself, past and present: what a pathetic moonstruck puppy.

“At which point?” Helena asks.

That’s a surprisingly troubling question. Timelines. Decisions. What did you know and when did you know it? What did you show and when did you show it?

“All I knew was how you responded. Not how you felt.”

Of course the former was all Myka herself had known, certainly at first, and their consonance surprises her. If only she could share that consonance, and her surprise in it, with Helena... but that seems too much like a reward, one that neither she nor Helena deserves. Again exhaustion: at their lack of merit. “I don’t want to play these games,” she says.

“Then don’t.” Was that a shrug? Did Helena really shrug?

“Fine. I won’t.” It’s childish, yet it feels like the best end she can manage tonight. You didn’t seek this out, she assures herself as she takes a first step away.

Before she can seal the escape with her second step, Helena says, “You might at least release me from this view.”

“You talked to me,” Myka says, doing her best to make it all go away. “You’re free.”

Helena turns from the flames too quickly for Myka to dodge being caught by the look. “I am in no way free.”

That is not my problem, Myka would like to maintain, but Helena’s gaze and tone are implicating, which is entirely unfair but still needs to be dealt with. She sits down next to Helena on the sofa. At a judicious distance.

Now they are both watching the Yule Log, which, indifferent to them both, continues its facsimile flicker. “I guess it is kind of mesmerizing,” Myka says after some time.

“We haven’t spoken much,” Helena rejoins.

“There hasn’t been much to speak about.” Without peril, Myka adds, internally, and by that she means, peril to me.

“On the contrary. But I’ve tried to ignore it.”

“So have I. I hear it’s unhealthy.”

“Perhaps. It’s Pete’s strategy as well, according to him,” Helena says. Then, following a throat-clear, “With regard to his feelings for you.”

Myka doesn’t need to clear her throat. “He’s the one who told me it was unhealthy.” Which puts her in mind of his ostentatious cough: it’s meaningful now. Ridiculous, but meaningful.

“Then I suppose we’re ailing, all of us.”

“I suppose we are. An epidemic of ignorance.”

Helena smiles a little at that. Myka can’t help but smile back, and she maintains it as Helena asks, light, “What is the prognosis?”

“Depends on the ignoring’s end result,” Myka temporizes.

“Pete maintains that ignoring something long enough makes it go away.”

Or it kills you, Myka might say, like cancer. But instead she stays light. As light as she can. “Maybe he’s right. No, probably he’s right.” She owes him that.

Now a pause. A wait. What’s next? “So is that where we leave it?” Helena asks.

Maybe it goes away. Maybe that’s what’s next.

Myka can see it, now: see the spreadsheets dissolving into unnecessarity, see herself not responding physically to Helena, see Helena becoming, in essence, like Pete: someone with a past version of whom a past version of herself made a mistake.

She hadn’t imagined, not before this minute, that it was possible. But now a road leads there.

Can she take that road? She looks again into the fire. The not-fire. It mocks her: Everything you really want turns out to be unreal. On the other side of some facsimilating screen. A mirage. She turns away from it, ashamed. She looks at Helena... for the moment, Helena is still real. Still able to render Myka’s resistance from her body, here in this moment by sitting quietly and watching fake flames, in the next by doing nothing more than breathing out, breathing in.

Myka has not yet taken that awful road. Not yet. One more try, she tells herself. But no, that’s not right. She’s never really tried. Never really. She’s waited—longer than she thought she should—and she’s hoped—harder than she thought she could—but that wasn’t trying.

So: one try.

It can’t be the try she might have made in the past, a desperate just-please-touch-me push. Under the circumstances, that’s impossible. So, what?

An olive branch? No, peace isn’t the right aim, even now.

Better, perhaps: something she wouldn’t have said before tonight’s... encounter. Something related to tonight’s encounter, something more real than she’s offered so far: “We fought. Pete and I.”

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Real #holiday (but not Gift Exchange)#sometimes I ideate Myka as just so very tired #of all the things but especially Helena-pressure #and how much more difficult she makes everything #particularly when there seems to be no compensation for withstanding that pressure #but hey Myka #it’s Christmas #so maybe some consolation will be coming your way #if you can wend through the conversational thicket

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strangersteddierthings · 2 years ago

Text

The Conversation

Final Part of The Interview [Part One] [Part Two] [Ao3]

Steve finishes putting on his boots, shoves a beanie on his head, and grabs his thermos of coffee before heading outside. Robin had texted when they left Pendleton so they should be arriving soon, and he wants to make sure the dogs stay clear of the driveway, and also finish some of the chores he is being lazy about. The mountain air is cold in February, and the snow is deep, but it's still warm for a winter day in Eastern Oregon.

His childhood house had been at the edge of a little forest. His current home is tucked away in the woods, trees for miles, and the nearest neighbor farther still than that. He's lived a lot of places, been able to see the whole of America almost, and in the process, he's learned that he'll always be a small-town boy. The real revelation is how at home he feels in this two-bedroom cabin sequestered away from any town at all. Sure, he's got to drive a little over half an hour to get to the nearest grocery store, but he's learned he likes that.

He's got 1600 acres of woods all to himself and the dogs. He's owned this property for almost four years, but recent events made him finally move out here. Originally, he'd bought it to make it as another flip project, but something in his gut told him to make it a vacation home / safe haven for his family instead. Robin, mainly, as a getaway from the LA life and overwhelming spotlight she'd started to face as her music career took off. He might be turning it into his permanent home and base of operations, but everyone knows they're still welcome.

Anyway, the day might be warm for winter, but the night won't be, so Steve sets his thermos on the top of the wooden railing of the porch and heads down the steps to the woodshed. The plan in the summer is to update the cabin, which includes adding central air and a good heating system, but until then, portable heaters are in the bedrooms and the wood stove gets the rest of the cabin. There's also plans to start the construction on the guest house. It's going to be a busy summer.

He replenishes the woodpile on the porch from the woodshed and debates chopping more but decides against it. That can be a tomorrow chore. Next is cleaning up the snow paths he's made previously. Doesn't want anyone falling on their ass on the way to the house, no matter how funny that'll be to watch. As usual, Pancake makes the task difficult because she wants to play with the snow shovel. Melody cries until he throws snow into the air by the shovel full for her to play in. Chowder, old man that he is, supervises from the porch, front paws hanging just off the top step.

It's rough going but he manages to complete the few chores, even with two dogs underfoot.

Steve is on the front porch, forearms holding his weight as he leans against the railing, thermos of coffee between his hands, taking in the afternoon sun and enjoying the silence when Dustin's work truck slides into the driveway. Almost literally, given the foot and a half of snow still on the ground. The driveway is long, okay. Steve's doesn't have enough time in his day to keep up with salting it all.

It'll be strange to see Eddie after all these years. He still can't believe Robin got him to come. When he'd asked how she did it, she brushed him off with an it's not important.

Speaking of Robin, she's the first person out of the truck, sliding out of the passenger seat and then cursing when she drops right into the snow. She shoots an accusatory look towards the cabin, and therefore Steve, like he placed the snow there himself, when the fault is Dustin, who has left the driver side with plenty of room between the truck and the snowbank.

Dustin gets out of the truck and Steve faintly hears him say this side, man, less snow before pushing his door closed and turning to brace himself as Pancake and Melody rush from the porch to circle like sharks, barely restraining themselves from jumping up. Chowder follows after slowly, taking his sweet time getting to Robin, his favorite human. Steve can't even be jealous about that because Robin is his favorite human, too.

The back driver side door opens, and he watches as Eddie Munson all but falls out of the truck. It's the least graceful anyone's looked getting out of the back of the truck and that's counting Chowder and his old man hips. Seeing Eddie again is- well, it's a lot of emotions all at once, but they're are all overshadowed at the moment by how Eddie looks... well, bad. His hair is longer than Steve's ever seen it, a little longer than mid-back length, but it looks like it hasn't seen a proper hair brush in a couple of days. Even from this distance Steve can see the bags under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in days.

He pushes himself off the railing and meanders down the two steps, waiting for them to notice he's waiting. Robin trudges out of the snow berm and to the front of the truck, where Chowder is waiting patiently for his pets and kisses. Dustin has managed to get Melody to stop hopping in front of him so she can get her side scratches, and Pancake has realized there is a new, third person with a set of hands currently not petting her, and is circling Eddie, waiting for him to reach down and pet her but he just stands completely still, heading tracking her in her circles.

"She's friendly, I promise," Steve calls out, which makes Eddie's head snap up to look for the source of the voice. Well, everyone looks, but Eddie looks like he's seeing a ghost, which. Fair. Steve kind of feels the same way.

"Hello, Dingus," Robin calls as she stands from her crouched position, where she's been cuddling Chowder. As soon as she stands, he starts making his way back to the porch. "I have delivered one Edward Keaton Munson. You are not allowed to ask anything of me for, at minimum, a year."

"Steve! Why didn't you tell me you knew the Eddie Munson?" Dustin shouts.

Robin is scoffing, clearly offended. "Am I not famous enough for you Henderson!?"

"Get back to me when you've run a 24-hour Dungeons and Dragons live stream for charity!" Dustin shoots back, then has to dodge Robin's half-hearted punch aimed for his arm.

Eddie stays silent, looking more pale than when he got out of the truck. Steve's a little concerned he's going to faint.

"You been living under a rock, Dustin?" Steve asks. "My knowing him is apparently the only thing on the internet currently."

Dustin puts his whole head into the eye roll. "You spend a month backpacking with your girlfriend in the southern hemisphere and you never get to hear the end of it. I told you I'd catch up on your drama after I catch up on my DnD Live Plays."

"You also missed me winning a Grammy, you know."

"I thought Steve's thing was more important?"

"You are impossible, Henderson."

"You guys going to argue in the snow all afternoon, or do you want to come inside?" Steve says then places his fingers in his mouth and whistles. Melody and Pancake dash for the front door, where Chowder is already waiting. Dustin, Robin, and a still eerily quiet Eddie fall into line to walk the trail to the porch Steve had cleared.

Steve jumps the steps, grabs his thermos, lets the dogs in, and then holds the door for everyone else. Robin and Dustin breeze past, but Eddie slows, eyes jumping around Steve's face as they just look at each other for a moment. Eddie opens, then closes, then opens, then closes his mouth.

"Hi," Steve offers up, shifting a foot to hold the door open so he can wave his fingers at Eddie.

Eddie swallows thickly, then whispers back, "hey."

"In the house, Eddie. Don't want to let too much cold in," Steve tilts his head towards the doorway.

"Oh, right, sorry," that kick starts Eddie again and he crosses the threshold, Steve close behind.

Robin and Dustin are currently occupying the bench just inside the door, taking off their shoes. Once Dustin has his boots off, he leaves the bench, heading to the kitchen. Eddie seems lost, just standing in the entryway, so Steve takes the spot Dustin just left and proceeds to undo the laces on his boots. He gets one boot done by the time Robin stands, wandering after Dustin once she's hung up her coat, scarf, and gloves. Eddie doesn't move still, so Steve pats the empty spot beside him.

"No shoes in the cabin. Dogs track in enough snow, don't need us doing it too," Steve says, then busies himself with his other boot.

He sees Eddie sit and begin to untie his- jesus, he's not even wearing boots. Just a black pair of sneakers. Eddie unties his shoes in silence, sitting rather stiffly next to Steve.

This quiet, obedient Eddie is not what he expected.

"You want something to drink?" Steve asks, once both of them are free of their shoes.

"No, thank you."

"Alright. Have a seat, then," he gestures towards the couch. The cabin door opens up directly into the living area, which Steve has set up as 3/4th a living room and 1/4th dining room, in that a small kitchen table is along the far wall. Beyond that wall is the kitchen, where Robin and Dustin are undoubtedly helping themselves to his coffee or hot chocolate.

Eddie shuffles off to sit on the edge of the couch, as close to the armrest as he can get. Now that Steve can see him closer, he can see he's added more piercing to his face than just the eyebrow ring he wore in high school. Snake bites, a septum piercing, and a second eyebrow ring next to the original. He's sure that if Eddie's hair wasn't covering his ears, he'd see more metal there. Eddie had hung up the coat he'd been wearing but under that is a hoodie he didn't take off, so Steve can only guess if he ever got those tattoos he'd been planning in high school. His entire outfit is black, which just makes him look sickly in the cabin lighting.

Steve drops himself into the chair facing the couch. It's Melody's favorite chair to curl up in, but Steve thinks she'll forgive him for taking it. There's tension in the room, so he tries to break it. "You look like you've seen a ghost, dude."

Eddie makes a weird nose, almost a whimper or a whine, but before he can say anything, Robin rounds the wall, holding a mug of hot liquid and she says, "Oh, I'm sure he feels that he has. I didn't tell me we were coming to see you."

"Robin!" Steve is shocked.

"What? You said you wouldn't mind getting some closure, so I got him here. Does it matter how?" She takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Eddie, making a show of how comfortable she is in the space by sitting cross-legged and leaning back against the couch, in comparison to Eddie who is sitting up completely straight, barely on the couch with how close to the edge he's sitting.

"Yeah, it does! If he's not here voluntarily- if Eddie doesn't want to talk to me you can't-"

"I do," Eddie says. It grabs Steve and Robin's attention and Steve sees Eddie almost wilt under their twin stares. He clears his throat before continuing, "I mean, I would have come still, if she'd told me. I do want to talk to you. Apologize for.... for everything. So much I don't even know where to begin, or how."

"Uhh, this feels like something personal," Dustin says from where he's standing with his own mug, hovering nearby. "Should I be here for this?"

Good question. Steve doesn't care if Robin and Dustin hear what they talk about, but Eddie might. "How about we just relax a bit. How was the drive?"

Eddie scrunches his face, a half confused expression on his face.

"Fine," Robin says at the same time Dustin says, "Tense as fuck."

"Those two things don't seem like they match," Steve says.

Dustin moves to plop himself on the couch in between Eddie and Robin, then quietly curses as his drink sloshes over the edge of the mug. He starts mopping at it with the sleeve of his shirt as he says, "Robin is a liar. The tension in the truck is going to linger that's how bad it was. I'll be feeling the tension every time I get in the rig. Clients will feel the tension when I pull up to their curbs!"

"It was not that bad!" Robin swats Dustin. Successfully this time, since there's no way for him to dodge unless he wants to spill his drink again.

Steve just laughs. "Robs, light of my life, mate of my soul, knowing you and your grudges, Dustin's probably going easy on the description of the tension here."

"Well, there wouldn't be tension if I was allowed to say what I want to say."

"Can we go, like, five minutes without your negativity?"

"My negativity!? I'm not negative, I'm rational and level-headed!"

"You are not sounding very level-headed right now."

Dustin chimes in, "Steve's right. Level-headed people don't have to shout that they're level-headed."

"What say you, Eds?" Steve asks, the old nickname slipping out. He doesn't have time to be embarrassed about it though.

Eddie stands quickly and flings his hands in the air, having reached an invisible limit Steve is unaware of, pacing about the living room as he basically shouts, "Why don't you hate me!? You should hate me! I hate me! I can't- why are you just sitting there, trying to have a-a decent conversation with me? You should be screaming at me! You should be mad! Why aren't you? My fuckin' song ruined your life!"

The silence in the living room is heavy following that, all eyes on Eddie. Even the dogs, who had been in various states of sleep, lift their heads and look in Eddie's direction.

He looks mortified by the out burst, and his face turns red. "I-I'm sorry. I- I'm just, I'm sorry. I need air."

They all watch silently as Eddie jams his shoes back on and goes out the front door without tying them or grabbing his coat.

Steve sighs, deep and annoyed. At Robin and himself. He looks to Robin and she looks shocked by Eddie's outburst. She was watching the door, but turns her head to meet Steve's eye, a small frown on her face.

"Well, it's not like he's going far," Dustin says. "You going after him?"

"I don't know if I should."

Dustin scoffs. "Don't be an idiot, of course you should. We drug that guy to the middle of nowhere to talk to you. He agreed to come to the middle of nowhere even though I could have been a hit man hired by Robin to off him in the woods and he didn't even complain. Didn't even question. I don't know what happened, but I think you two need talk it over."

Steve blinks at Dustin. "Since when did you get so wise?"

"I've always been wise. You just refuse to see it with your ageism. Go. Robin can fill me in on the beef, here in the toasty, cozy cabin, while you two chat in the cold, and freeze your asses off."

"I don't have ageism-"

"Wrong argument to be having, Steve!" Dustin interrupts. "And take another cup of coffee with you. Even if he doesn't drink it, dude doesn't have gloves either so y'know, warm the hands."

Steve does just that. Fills his other thermos with coffee, taking a chance by adding cream and sugar, before putting his boots, coat, and beanie back on. He throws Eddie's coat over his arm and tucks both thermos' against his body with that same arm so he can have a free hand to open the door.

Eddie isn't far. He's pacing back and forth in front of the truck, talking to himself.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Steve steps off the porch and makes his way to Eddie. "Hey."

The pacing stops and Eddie turns to look at Steve. They just look at each other as Steve approaches. Steve doesn't stop until he's close enough to reach out and touch before he shuffles the two thermos's to his other arm and extends the one with Eddie's coat on it out.

"Thank you," Eddie says, taking the coat and shoving himself into it quickly.

"Brought you coffee, too," Steve holds out one thermos and after a pause, Eddie takes it, too, then almost instantly brings his other hand up to cradle it, warming his fingers.

He looks up from the thermos and meets Steve's eye. "I am sorry, Steve. I'm sorry for how things ended between us, and for the song I wrote, and for-for not thinking about how people would be able to work out that you were the Steve from Hey Steve. You should hate me for that alone. I'm so sorry for everything that's happened because I didn't think of the consequences."

"I don't- I don't hate you man. Not... not anymore. Not for a long time."

"Well, you should!"

Steve frowns. He wants to argue because who is Eddie to tell him how he should feel? But that's not going to help anything. "When Robin called me. During her interview after the Grammy's and asked if she could tell the truth I never- I didn't know what she meant by the truth. But. Well, nothing she said was a lie, but it wasn't the full story."

Eddie stays silent, seemingly waiting for Steve to continue.

"Those first two years after our breakup were- I'm not going to lie, they were fucking awful. I think I received my first bit of hate mail the very same day Hey Steve released. It was harsh. All from the same person, but sent to my Facebook and my Twitter and Instagram. Guess they really wanted me to read it.

"And then, with each passing day, a new person, new message, just as awful. After three days I deleted Instagram and Twitter. Then I locked down Facebook but like- physical letters showed up at my house. I can't lie, it certainly felt like you'd ruined my life."

Eddie makes a wounded sound at that. "That's because I did! What I did was unforgivable and-"

"You don't get to decide for me if I forgive you or not!" Steve snaps. "I haven't actually said I did forgive you, did I? All I've said is I don't hate you."

That gets Eddie quiet again for a moment, then he says, "you ended up hospitalized because of me."

"Robin said I ended up hospitalized, and that's true, but it wasn't- It was more complicated that just being your, and your fans', fault. For people who were supposedly on 'your side' of our breakup, they used a lot of homophobic language. That's how my mom found out. The letters were easy enough to just get rid of because all the bad shit was on the inside, but someone sent a post card, and mom collected the mail that day. It's... I don't like talking about this."

"Then don't," Eddie is quick to say, "you don't have to explain anything to me, or make yourself relive these events. It's- you don't owe that to me."

"I think I need to. I wrote you a song, said I'd do it all again, and I meant that. I want you to understand why. Just. Just give me a minute."

Eddie nods and takes a sip of his coffee. He looks pleasantly surprised and takes bigger drink before his face falls into a frown as he stares down at the thermos and Steve has to look away. He turns and squeezes his eyes shut to continue. "Mom showed the postcard to my father, and he confronted me that evening. It was.... it didn't start off bad. He asked if it was true. That I was gay. I made a choice, then. I didn't have to; I could have lied. I could have told him I was straight and that I didn't understand what the postcard was saying, but I didn't.

"I knew how he felt about queer people, and I told him the truth anyway. I was bisexual. I thought it was a miracle that he didn't kick me out instantly. Instead, he calmly asked me if that meant I liked woman. I said it meant I liked more than just woman.

"Then he told me that didn't matter. That so long as I liked woman, I would be with a woman, and that we never had to speak of this again. And I told him no. He didn't get to decide that for me. He said that he would rather have a dead son than a faggot one. And I thought- I never- surely he was just meaning, like, metaphorically, right? Like, he'd disown me, kick me out or something so I scoffed and said- God, I was so stupid. I knew it wasn't safe, but I was so angry at him, I shouted 'dead or alive, I'm your faggot son so deal with it.' And he- he said 'dead it is' and he attacked me."

He hears Eddie suck in a breath, hears the crunch of snow in what could only be Eddie taking a step towards him but stopping after just one step. Steve doesn't know if he wants Eddie to close the distance and give him the hug he knows Eddie wants to do. Steve doesn't know if he'd welcome the embrace or not. He sucks in his own shaky breath, and continues, "He almost beat me to death that night. The only reason he didn't was because mom dialed 911," Steve turns around, looks at Eddie and sees the tears falling down his own face reflected on Eddie. "As far as I know, dad's still serving time for his attempted murder, so like, at least I don't have to worry about him. And mom... I don't even know what to think of that.

"She called 911, didn't want to see me die, I guess, but also couldn't have a gay son. She sold the house, and everything in it, while I was still in the hospital, and just... disappeared. Robin's family took me in. She told that story during the interview, you knoe, but I wasn't even at the house when that guy with the gun showed up. I was meeting with a lawyer.

"She-Mom was- I don't know what she was trying to do but she gave me the family business. The whole company! It felt like she was trying to buy my forgiveness, except she didn't ask for it and still hasn't contacted me. It's like... she felt guilty about what happened but hated me at the same time. Felt she needed to do something to alleviate her guilt? Or maybe she just wanted to cut herself free of the whole Harrington name; free herself from me and my father. I don't think I'll ever get closure for that one."

Steve quits talking, needs to take another moment. He'd already rambled on about more than he meant to but talking to Eddie had always done that to him. Afterall, before they dated, they'd been friends. He sips at his coffee, not knowing what else to say.

"Jesus, Stevie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know- It's no excuse but I'm just so sorry."

He doesn't think Eddie knows he called him Stevie, but it's nice to hear. "So, see, it wasn't your fault. Your song set things into motion, for sure, so it's nice to hear an apology, but like, if anyone is the bad guy in this situation, it's Richard Harrington."

"But Robin said she just had to help you move to here. That you still get hate mail, and doxxed. That's on me. I saw your list of addresses, Steve! You've had to move, like, eight times a year!"

Steve can't help the cackle that springs from him. He surprises himself with the laugh, and Eddie, too, if his wide eyes and eyebrows hidden behind his bangs are any indication. "I- yeah, I move a lot. And yes, this most recent move was because of a brick with Hey Steve scratched into it broke my living room window, but like, I've only had to move because of harassment like, four times, if I'm counting the whole mom-selling-the-house thing."

"What?"

Steve holds up a finger, adding a new one as he counts them out. "Mom sold house. Scary gun guy at Robin's. The year anniversary of your first album's release. I was still in Hawkins, figuring out what to do with all the money I'd, uhh, inherited I guess, so I was easy to find. And the most recent one. Not sure what inspired it this time. Usually, the hate mail resurges when you go on tour, but it's less and less every time. Anyway, none of those other moves are because of crazy fans."

Eddie blinks at him, a picture of confusion. "But I found a YouTube video and that guy- he showed all your old addresses. He said- I thought..."

"Well, there are a lot of addresses. But not because of your fans. I move for my job. Do you... did you even read the truck?" Steve gestures to Dustin's truck and Eddie steps around to see the printed H&H Project Flip and below that is their website.

Eddie looks back to Steve like that answers nothing. Which, fair, but it would answer a lot of questions if Eddie had looked up the website. "After that surge of anniversary hate, I knew I needed to get out of Hawkins. Robin was graduated, then, and headed to college. I decided I wanted to see more than just Hawkins. I followed Robin to college in Chicago, and uh, bought a house. A real fixer upper but that was fine. I had plenty of money to throw into it. On a whim I thought, what if I try to fix it. I had a lot of free time and if it ended up badly, I could afford to pay a professional to fix whatever I broke. I found that I loved doing that."

He's still just being looked at like he's not making sense.

Steve rolls his eyes, "I flip houses, dude. Me and Dustin. Harrington and Henderson Project Flip. I was in Chicago for three years, lots of addresses for that city. But then Robin pointed out there were a lot of states. That I should see all 50 of 'em by renovating a house in each. She'd moved in with her then-girlfriend by this time, so she said I should go. See the States at the least. So, I did. I find it easier to just live in the house I'm renovating, so I'm not paying mortgage and then rent somewhere else in the same city."

Eddie looks like he's had a rug pulled out from under him and he lets out a laugh that's a little hysterical.

"And moving so much has allowed me to meet so many amazing people, y'know? I got friends in all the states. So, like, yeah, you did ruin my life, but like, just my life from 18 to 20. So, yeah, I'd do it all again. Did you think I've been living in perpetual misery for the last ten years?"

"Robin certainly made it easy to assume that, so yeah!"

"I think she did that on purpose. To hurt you back."

"I deserve it," Eddie says. "I didn't even try to check in on you. Well, once, but when I couldn't find you on any socials I just. Gave up."

Steve shrugs. "I didn't reach out either. And if you'll remember, I broke up with you. Screamed in your face that we were over and went home."

"I don't know when, or even if, Corroded Coffin will tour again, but I swear to you, we'll never play or release Hey Steve again. And I'll release a statement, or go on camera, or something, and address this. I can't make it right, but I can make a change starting now, to do better and be better," Eddie says this while gripping his thermos to death.

"I believe you, and I forgive you."

Eddie nods grimly, then looks from Steve to the cabin, and back to Steve. "Do you think Robin will ever forgive me?"

"I don't know. You hurt her pretty badly, too. We were all best friends in school and when we broke up, you cut off Robin, too. And then, when she started to gain her own fame- I think when she first moved to LA, she thought you'd try to reach out. But you never did."

A silence falls over them, and Steve refuses to break it. He's done enough talking. They drink their coffees 'til they're empty before Eddie speaks.

"Where does this leave us?"

Steve thinks about it before answering. "You were my best friend before you were my boyfriend. You'd been in my life longer than you've been out of it. We don't have to be anything. We can have our closure and go our separate ways, if you'd prefer. But, I think I'd like another chance at being your friend."

"I can do friend," Eddie says slowly, like he's picking his words carefully. "I can. But, full transparency, I think I still love you."

It hurts to hear, after all the pain and the time, and it's a bittersweet kind of hurt. "I'll always love you, Eds. I meant it, you know, every word of the song. But I don't know if we can, or should, try again. We were so good until we weren't."

Tears spring from Eddie's eyes when Steve says he loves him, and they don't stop falling even as he's nodding along with everything Steve says. "No, I know. I know. I just, I needed you to know. Friend is, it's so fucking great. More than I ever expected, and certainly more than I dared hope."

"Come on. Let's go inside where it's warm and chat with Dustin and Robin like civilized people. I need a break from the heavy talk."

"Yeah. Me too. Thank you, Steve. For the chance."

Steve shrugs and shoots him a crooked grin. "Yeah, well, ruin this a second time and Robin will rip you to shreds on live TV, probably."

There's more to talk about. More hurts to heal and things to discuss, Steve knows. And maybe after all the talking, they'll learn they've changed too much to even be friends. But that'll be okay, because if that's how it goes, it'll be because they talked it out instead of screaming at each other in a living room.

If they've changed too much, this time, it'll end gently.

It doesn't stop Steve from letting a little bit of hope in. That this won't end, that they can find a way to be in each other's lives again.

As friends, or more.

#steddie #my fic #the interview #prepare yourself for the whiplash of a full tonal shift in the story as we switch to steves POV #tw: homophobia #tw: assault #Steve discusses his assault/subsequent hospitalization. I tried to not go into too much detail but proceed with caution if thats a trigger #there is also the use of the word faggot as a slur #also! there is a point where steve casually says robin has a girlfriend #this is NOT an accidental outing. Robin is an out and proud lesbian singer/song writer/grammy winner #also.... maybe there will be an epilogue? I am debating.#if you wanna be informed on the epilogue #subscribe to the fic on ao3 cause it'll alert you if i add another chapter

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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago

Text

idk

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Prompt: Praise

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, praise (kinda like body worship), age-gap, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.8k

A/N: this might suck im so sorry, its super rushed. also I couldn't think of a name (not proofread at all)

You shake your head as your friends laugh. They always think it’s funny, and although it doesn’t bother you very much, it’s still quite annoying. Your friends seem to think that your relationship with Joel is a fling, some sort of manic, impulsive decision to date someone so much older than you. You’ve explained to them over and over again that what you have with Joel is as real as it gets. You’ve never been more in love with anyone, but they think you’re dickmatized, they’re waiting for you to ‘snap out of it’.

“I told you guys, I love him.” You state before finishing your drink, rolling your eyes at the way they giggle. You check your phone for updates but all you get is Joel’s same ‘15 minutes away.’ text that was there the last time you checked. You pray that every light he comes across is green and the streets are empty, you want to get out of here as soon as possible.

“I don’t even know if I believe that!” Stacey is drunker than she should be, saying things she shouldn’t be. You’ve grown used to it now, she’s the one who has the most to say about your relationship. “I feel like you treat him like…” She laughs abruptly. “Like he’s your boss or something!” She cackles again at the way your face drops. “And he- he could be, ‘cause he’s so old.” You take a deep breath and look up at her, your face blank as her laughter dies down.

“Joel is-” Just uttering his name from your lips brings a smile to your face. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He understands me, my needs, and my wants in a way that I don’t even understand. I’ve known him for a year and a half now, I’ve known you much longer, yet he knows more about me than you ever will. He’s my everything and that’s never gonna change. I’m not upset at you, just to clarify.” You say with a soft chuckle. “I think all of this is coming from a place of jealousy if I’m being completely honest. I hope that you find someone who loves you like you’re his entire universe.” You begin to collect your things, deciding you can wait for Joel outside.

“He makes me feel like an angel, like-” You laugh at their shocked and confused expressions. They have no clue what you’re talking about, it makes you pity them a bit, but it mostly makes you happy, feeling lucky you were able to find it. “Anyway…” You chuckle awkwardly and stand to leave. “That’s how I feel about him. So, if you could like… not, say things insinuating that I don’t love my boyfriend, I would really love that.” You smile and awkwardly bow/curtsey at them, waving and walking away. You’re a bit embarrassed at the silence in the room as you walk away. You turn the corner as quickly as you can and jump at the man standing in the middle of the foyer.

“Joel!? Oh- You scared the shit outta me!” You place a hand over your heart with a smile, taking deep breaths as you walk toward him. “Did you text? I’m sorry there was an… altercation.” He nods at you slowly and only then do you realize his stare. It’s different from the one you usually get, softer, more watery somehow. “I know.” He pauses to take a deep breath as you reach him. His hand reaches out for yours and you take it with a confused smile as you both start walking to the front door. “I uh- I heard actually.”

Joel feels your hand tense in his for a moment as you let out a nervous giggle. “Oh! That- That’s great.” You chuckle and glance up at him for a moment, mumbling. “That’s so embarrassing.” He laughs gently at that, his hand leaving yours once you guys reach the car. “That’s not true, darlin’.” He says as he climbs into the car. You’re chuckling quietly, still embarrassed as you ride home in near silence, the only noise being the little hum of the radio.

He doesn’t bring it up until after dinner, you’re both on the couch, in Joel's shirt, watching some movie that recently came out but Joel’s mind is on the rant he heard from you earlier. He had shown up unannounced due to his phone dying mid-way through the drive-over. He heard Stacey mention the way you act toward him, how unaffectionate you were. Joel doesn’t necessarily agree with that but he’s definitely questioned your feelings toward him before, constantly wondering if you actually like him or if you’re just lonely. So of course he wanted to hear your answer, he prepared himself for the worst, held his breath, grit his teeth, and waited for the pain of your answer. His heart stuttered when you paused after “Joel is-”

He was ready to hear the most heartbreaking words tumble from your mouth next, but then you said he was the best thing to ever happen to you, and his heart stopped. His eyes went wide as you rambled on, saying wonderful thing after wonderful thing. He felt his heart tremble inside his chest, loving the things you were saying, and the way you were defending him against your friends. The fact that you were outwardly announcing the extreme feelings you have for him made so many different emotions swirl through him. He was in a daze until you turned the corner, and he’s fallen into that same one again.

You can feel Joel staring at you, you can see his head turned your way from the corners of your eye. You’re trying to ignore it, but he clears his throat and you turn toward him. “You okay?” His face is a bit frantic and he’s looking at you in that way again, the one you couldn’t really explain. He’s taking slow breaths and turns to you, letting you know this was going to be a whole conversation. You face him, letting the TV play because you don’t even understand the movie anyway.

“Why don’t you talk to me that way?” His question baffles you. You glace over at the TV, seeing if he's referring to something that happened in the movie but come up with nothing. You turn back to him slowly, watching his expectant, worried expression, and furrow your brows at him, prompting him to explain himself. “Back at Stacey’s house, you were sayin’ real nice things.” You feel the temperature in the room rise as embarrassment creeps into your bones.

‘Why don’t you talk to me that way?’

“Do you want me to?” You ask concerned. You would never want to even imagine that Joel isn’t feeling loved enough, that you’re not giving him enough, despite all the things you do for him. You reach out for him, waving your hands toward yourself to motion him closer. His head is hung, staring at the couch’s cushions as he scoots himself to you. “I can start telling you all this stuff. I- Honestly I didn’t think you’d want to hear it.” You giggle nervously and take a sudden interest in the couch's patterns.

Joel’s shocked to his core at your words but quickly takes your opening. “I’d really like it if you’d tell me... I get worried that maybe you don’t- “ He takes a deep breath, his chest heaving with a sigh. “That maybe you don’t like me as much as I-” You cut him off with a hurt, yet firm, “No!”

“Joel you’re so so-” You grunt, unable to explain the way he makes you feel. “You just- You’re everything good, and positive, and amazing in this world.” His entire body relaxes as he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’re perfect. You can’t even argue with me on that. You’re literally my dream guy. You’re kind, even though you’re hot enough that you probably don’t even need to be as nice as you are. You care about me and my feelings even though I’d probably just let you use my body, and throw me away if you really wanted. I-” You pause and take a breath- already worried about how he’ll take some of the things you’ve said. You give him a shy smile, a small laugh slipping out at his dazed look.

Joel couldn’t breathe as you spoke. His heart was swelling at every word, but there was also a dull hum in his lower stomach that was growing the longer you did. It flares up when you meet his eyes, giving him that pretty smile he loves so much. His head is all jumbled up. He doesn’t know if you’ve asked him something or if he should be responding. All he knows is that he really wants- really needs more. “Can-” He clears his throat, stalling and trying to clear his mind a bit. “Could you tell me more about- about my looks? How-” He feels anxiety flare in his chest as he requests. He’s looking at his hands, examining his knuckles, completely terrified at how you’ll react to the request, scared that you’ll have a look on your face that’ll break his heart. “How do you feel about ‘em?”

Joel has to fight the urge to run his fingers through his hair, run his nails along his beard to comb it and maybe cover the patches. He’s already regretting asking you. He didn’t get enough sleep last night, he probably has bags and he can’t even begin to think about how many gray hairs he has littering his head, and his beard. This shirt is a little too tight too, he can feel his stomach pressing against the fabric.

What do I expect her to say? Fuck, this was a stupid fuckin’ idea. I should’ve at least looked in goddamn mir-

His thoughts are cut off by a squeal and your shaking body. You’re wiggling yourself back and forth on the couch, bouncing in excitement. “Oh my god, Joel, I have so much to say.” He’s astonished at your excitement, at how eager you are to praise him. He can feel the humming in his stomach intensify. “You’re so-” Your voice drops to an adorably shy whisper. “You’re so fucking hot.” He lets out a soft gasp as you straighten your back, place your hands in your lap, and put on a semi-serious face before speaking.

“So the first thing that’s coming to mind right now is your thighs.” His eyes flicker down, but it doesn’t clarify anything. “How big they are, how thick and meaty- Ugh! I love them so much!” His heart warms and his pulse races at the way you’re smiling, as though telling him these things brings you actual, genuine, joy. “So next I’d like to mention your arms- oh, your arms. They’re so thick, you’re so strong” Your hand comes up slowly to squeeze his bicep, then caress it softly and he can feel himself hardening in his pants. He finally understands the feelings your words cause, he’s grateful, feeling incredibly loved, and insanely turned on.

“Now I wanna talk about your shoulders! Okay so, what really messes me up like- in general, is how fucking-” You take a shaky breath, that shy smile on your face again as you look at his lap, almost crying at how empty it looks. He notices your hesitance, where your gaze is and he sits back, opening his legs a bit wider and tilting his head toward it. He’s ready to have you on him, for you to know how this is affecting him. His breathing is already speeding up at the thought, watching you climb into his lap. You gasp, eyes wide, a devious smile on your face as you stare at him after feeling the way he's pressing into his jeans for you. “Joel…” Your tone is teasing but playful, bringing a smile to his face as you settle yourself in his lap.

“You like this? That’s why you want me to talk to you all nice?” His mouth drops open as his hips tilt up, pressing into you as his cock hardens fully. You can feel him filling out his boxers as he nods eagerly at you. You’re grinning as he lowers his hips back down but keeps a small grind for his personal sanity. “Can you keep-”

You’re nodding and continuing before he can finish. “You’re so big, Joel.” The compliment comes out as a whine and you tilt your hips toward him, pressing your chest against his, and your clit into the tip of his dick. He’s groaning your name and bringing his hands to your hips, pushing you into him. “You’re so broad, m-makes me feel so safe.”

He’s kissing your cheek as you speak, grinding up into you, and pressing your hips to him. Your head is getting clouded, consumed with your love for Joel, with the pleasure you’re giving him. “You- Your hair.” His heart stutters slightly, nervous about what you’ll say. “The curls, and it’s so soft and-” Your eyes slip shut as your hips take over, moving on their own as you grip Joel’s hair, pulling him into your chest. “The salt and pepper look is so good, Joel.”

“Fuck me.” His eyes roll back and his hands push your hips up. His hands fumble with his belt as you smother him in your chest, whining about how much you love him. “Love that this turns you on s’much, baby. It’s so fucking cute.” He can hear the smile in your voice and his eyes roll back as he lets out a sweet moan of your name, pressing the heel of his palm into his dick for a moment.

“Sweetheart, I gotta-” His words are broken by a whine as he finally gets his cock out of his pants, wrapping his warm hand and pumping his cock perfectly. He could cum like this, with you above him, telling him about every feature of his and how it affects you. Your hips are still swiveling in the air as you speak, waiting and looking for something to press against your pussy. It’s the only reason he doesn’t just keep jerking himself to your words. “I gotta fuck you, darlin’. Need you so bad, I want you so much.”

You don’t even look back, you just pull your panties aside, and lower yourself onto him, trusting that he’ll lead himself to the right hole. You’re clinging to his neck as you sink down, moaning his name over and over as he stretches you out. “You’re so tight, baby. Holy shit.” You clench down on him, and pull out of his neck, pressing a sloppy kiss against his mouth.

He’s thrusting into you slowly, hands gripping your hips to keep your rhythm steady. You’re letting out beautiful moans and little mumbles into his lips, not having the restraint to pull away for even one second. Joel slides his hand from your hip, up your back to hold the back of your neck gently, and pulls you away from him. “What is it, honey?”

He’s breathless as he fucks into you, his dick pulsing already. He grunts and closes his eyes as you moan incoherent words at him. You’re trying to answer him, your brain has completely turned to mush from the way he’s pounding into you. “-eyes are so p-pretty.”

Joel’s eyes snap open again. “Your lips are so soft and-” You’re still praising him, still rattling off your list of things that you find arousing about him. He doesn’t understand how you even have this much material, how even though you’re too fucked out to grind yourself on his cock properly, but you can still talk all about how much he turns you on, and how beautiful you think he is. He can feel his balls tightening.

His hand cups your face, sticking his thumb into your mouth as you whine and hump him harder. He’s trying not to focus too much on how warm, and wet your mouth is and slips his thumb out, ignoring the whimper you give. He relishes in the groan that’s pulled from your chest as he puts pressure on your aching, swollen clit. He’s rubbing circles before you can finish your moan of his name, your eyes roll back, and your body tenses. Joel’s in shock at how quickly he’s got you cumming around him. Your pussy spasms and your hips jerk against him with your mouth open in a silent moan.

Joel keeps his finger running over your clit as he watches you cum, still thrusting into you, chasing that last push he needs to fall over the edge. You give it to him without him having to ask. “Fuck me so perfect, Joey-” You pitch up into a whine and tangle your hands in his hair roughly. “A g-good boy, such a great guy-” You’re cut off as he bucks into you, his hips lifting off the couch completely, almost throwing you off as he groans and fills you to the brim.

He’s resting his head against your shoulder, his arms wrapped around you and holding your body to his as he throbs inside you, spilling all he has into your pulsing hole. He's huffing out groans in time with the ropes his dick is spurting into you, his entire body shaking as pleasure takes him over. You’re encouraging him the whole time, talking him through his orgasm, helping him tame the fire that’s raging through him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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ma1dita · 1 year ago

Text

'en route' - i. imaginary friend

pictures are not mine, 3rd is a photo concept by @geloyconcepcion on ig

read along here (will update) : part ii, part iii, part iv

song of the chapter: revolution 0 by boygenius

en route playlist: here

words: 3.9k

summary: pt ¼ of ‘en route’. You and James are kindred spirits. Fighting in the First Wizarding War just seems to be your only escape.

warnings: no use of y/n, religious iconography sprinkled here and there, depictions of loss/war, angst, unhappy(?) marriage, fake marriage, twin flames vibe, they’re just kids they should be at the club bro

a/n: setting the scene is always so hard LOL. i love writing morally grey characters, please feel free to comment if you want to be added onto the taglist, or scream at me <3 thanks for the patience, you won’t have to wait as long for the next part lol

(posted 12/28/23, might come back to edit)

—

END OF MARCH 1980

There’s not a lot of things you like to remember about the year 1980. The memories blur together, highly repressed in a busy corner of your mind, and if someone held you at wandpoint to ask about what happened, you’re not sure where to begin. You don’t talk about it much anymore, but if you did, it wouldn’t be sufficient to put it in a few simple words.

And maybe if you did, the remembering wouldn’t hurt as much. With little physical things to hang onto, however—holding onto this hurt reminds you it was real.

From what you can remember anyway, it all started on his birthday.

You felt eyes on you as soon as you stormed into the room. In this congregation of people trying to save the world, it was easy to feel unseen in your struggles to keep moving forward. A pair of kaleidoscope eyes meet yours for a small moment, and that’s when you knew it was risky. It’s easy to hide in a crowd of Aurors enjoying the reprieve from the reality of the world outside of headquarters’ protected doors, fading into the background.

But he saw you, and that was terrifying–to be perceived.

Frank Longbottom pours you a pint, and you nod your head in thanks, taking a long sip before settling down into a chair at the bar. The same pair of eyes see through you, past your hunched frame, down to the core of your grief. Something about it resonates with him deeply, and the boys notice his attention is away from the conversation they’re having in the living room.

“She's pretty, yeah? French, I think. Never says more than a few words to anyone though, I tried. All business,” Sirius mumbles to his best friend over a glass of firewhiskey.

James looks up at Sirius from his position in the armchair, his head tilted to one side in curiosity at the way you fold into yourself.

"Yeah, I guess," James replies reluctantly. "I've never properly spoken to her, but I can tell she's very... mellow."

“Heard she lost people. The war hasn't been kind to her like it has to a lot of us. Don't know if she'll budge, Prongs. Some pages are best left unturned,” Remus says, shuffling a deck of cards between his scarred fingers. Sirius grunts in response, not caring for the conversation as he takes another sip of his drink.

James knows now what he recognizes within you. Grief has been looming over him too, latched onto his spine, weighing him down as the responsibilities grow by the day. His eyes flicker to his wife’s baby bump as she stands near the window laughing at something Marlene and Peter were acting out. Lily falling pregnant was his sign to get his shit together, because if he didn’t, who would?

Like a shadow, you shy away from the light and laughter that fills the room. But there was no escape once he started walking in your direction. There was no grandiose introduction, no heart-stopping, earth-shattering moment. Both consumed by grief unseen by most, two people sat at the bar in silent reverence of each other’s breathing, daring the other to say something.

“Didn’t know I was crashing your birthday Potter. Seems I don't have a gift,” you say suddenly, words rushing out as your eyes trace his profile.

A beat passes.

His head bobs up and for a second you think you’ve said the wrong thing until you realize he’s smiling. He looks up grinning like the devil, eyes meeting yours with a smile you could only describe as radiant. It stirs something deep within you, and you watch your hands reach toward your butterbeer to avoid his searing gaze.

“Terrible time to have a party anyway. I think it’s more for them than it is for me.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you scoff lightly, and his head jerks towards you as you continue, “You’re a bit too happy for my liking.”

“Oh?” His body turns to follow, knees bumping against yours under the bartop.

“How come you know so much about me then? You don’t give any of us a chance with you.”

James says this jokingly, but a part of it rings true like a punch in the gut. You were so impressionable, left soft and malleable by the grief that became you that you found it quite infuriating that someone like him could be so happy in the middle of a war like this one.

A noise of acknowledgement leaves your throat and he watches your fingers clench around the glass. Too much? Change the subject.

“What’s the ‘T’ necklace you have on?”

The chain swings against your chest as you adjust yourself on the barstool, becoming aware of the weight of it.

“What?”

“What does it mean? Must be important to you, whoever this fellow is. See you wear it every day,” he says adamantly, before backtracking and realizing how stalkerish that sounds.

“Potter, have you never met a Christian?” Your eyes dart between him and his hands on the bartop, more glaringly, the platinum wedding band on his left hand. Surely, anything should be more interesting than conversing with a stranger at his own party.

“A who? Who’s Christian? Are you?”

The beginning of a smile breaks onto your face like daybreak. It’s refreshing, he thinks. He doesn’t think he’s made someone smile like that in a while.

“You idi–,” you exhale, “It’s not… Muggles don’t have magic like us, so they have belief systems. Higher power they believe in. Weren’t you Head Boy at Hogwarts, how did you pass Muggle Studies?”

“Elective. Do you believe in that stuff? God and what not?”

Your calf brushes his pant leg accidentally. Why can’t you stop fidgeting? He makes you nervous, all these questions, and then you blurt your response out in rapid succession that he’s almost unable to catch it.

“No. Maybe. My parents did, and God was important to them, so I wear this necklace because of it. They’re important to me. I used to before I found out I was a witch. Used to pray that God would save me, make me something other than mundane—well, here I am now. Not quite sure if he heard me.”

It hits you that the last time you’ve been able to speak about your parents like this was at their funeral two months back. Right before you joined the Order, and sitting here in front of James suddenly feels stifling. You roll your jacket sleeves up, hyperaware that he’s watching your every move.

He keeps his tone light, but the smile on his face is kind as he mutters, “You think some bloke up top is calling all the shots for everyone?” James says this without judgment and your breath quivers.

“I don’t know, but I think things happen for a reason. I’m still trying to find out what that exactly is.”

His pinky nudges yours on the sticky bartop, and his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head in thought.

“Did. Is the believing past tense?”

You’re not sure what’s changed in the past few minutes that’s made you comfortable in his presence, but you crack a joke before you think too hard.

“My parents are. Past tense.”

Laughter spills out of you like the bubbles on your refilled pint glass, and James scrunches his face, holding back until his shoulders are shaking from the effort.

“Merlin….yeah. Mine too.”

Oh.

You look at him through your eyelashes, silence filling the space between you two as the rest of the party goes on in the background. James clinks his glass with yours, and there’s a silent understanding that bridges between you, connecting you together.

—

END OF APRIL 1980

“You know if we’re gonna be friends, you should probably call me James.”

The two of you were left sitting in the den to deliberate on the mission you were being sent at the end of this week. Three whole months with James Potter could be a nightmare. But it could also be quite fun, you think, watching him flick through the mission files with a quirk in his lip that can only signal mischief. Signing away your life wouldn’t be so bad if you had him to keep you company. You’d never tell him that though.

“Will we be? You don’t seem that excited.”

“Excited to be shipped away from everyone we know is definitely a statement, love.”

“I’m not eager if that’s what you’re insinuating. Just feel obligated, especially if it helps the cause. That’s why you’re here, right?” Right. In a war like this one, ordinary people like you and him pay the highest price. But nothing seemed ordinary about you, like a complex puzzle he was constantly wracking his brain to figure out. There are aspects of your personality that come to light the more he talks to you over these past few weeks, almost luring him in so he can unveil the secrets you hold. Why do you put yourself on the front lines like this, mission after mission? Who do you have in your life that makes you want to fight against the odds? What do you think of to keep you going? Why can’t he stop thinking about you?

He blinks, before looking at you, “S’not that I don’t want to go with you, and do my duty, I just…”

“You love it. I can see it in your eyes, you were trouble at school, weren’t you?” James’ smile gets wider, thinking back to the last few years, before everything went to shit. Back when it was easier, just him and his three friends, and his biggest worry was getting Lily Evans to look at him.

“Just a lot to worry about. People to take care of.” His mind falls back to his wife sitting at home, probably wondering why he isn’t back from the Order meeting, getting more agitated by the minute. He thinks of the nursery he still needs to set up, and the legal affairs he’s left behind after his parents’ death. He thinks of checking in on his boys, who barely know how to take care of themselves if they don’t come over for dinner, and finally, he exhales.

“You?“

It’s an honest question, and by asking it, he extends himself to you, an insight into the burdens he carries with him daily. The difficulty and complexity of having a large capacity to love is carrying the weight until you cannot.

“Just me and my rucksack. Gives me something to do.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, busying yourself with packing the supplies Dumbledore gave you two earlier. Vials of Polyjuice Potion, two golden wedding bands, magically enhanced IDs— it was like playing pretend. That’s all this has to be. Easy enough.

James looks at you and understands a bit more. You need this job. And if he’s being honest, so does he.

“I still wonder what would happen if it doesn’t work out, don’t get me wrong. But then I think, what if it does? What if no one else has to die?” A noise of agreement rises from his throat as he straightens his posture on the couch.

War shouldn’t be an escape, much less a distraction to two people grieving. There are countless muggles and wizards alike losing their lives to a genocide of people undeserving of a fate dictated by a person who plays god. But when you’re fighting for your life before you can even legally drink in some countries, there are two things left to consider when making a decision: to choose something difficult or to choose wrong.

And neither of you have ever found anything easy. Not in this life at least.

He sighs. James really needs to get home.

“Well…We will be friends by the end of this. I’m sure. Already gonna be married to you anyways,” he jokes.

“Don’t get used to it, what a pity that would be for your ego,” you gripe, but a trace of amusement is present on your lips as you watch him stand up to leave.

“We’ll see about that, love.”

He apparates home. Onto the next difficult thing.

When James told Lily that he’d be on a mission for the latter half of her pregnancy, she didn’t take it well. But to be honest, with everything going on, James couldn’t help but feel exasperated. How bad is his marriage that he’d rather risk his life instead of tending to his family’s needs? James sits at the dining table listening to her yell, and he feels extra heavy today, wondering how he feels so ancient at 20 years old.

Years ago he dreamed of this, a wife, kids, a pretty townhouse. But this isn’t what he quite imagined. He looks at his wife as she paces around the room, hand on her bump, red hair spreading little fires as she goes. She’s his everything. Truly. He spent years trying to even find that spark in her, dedicated his life to her, and gave up everything to take care of her—but she struggled a lot these past few months. Her pregnancy brought on incendiary words falling upon him like lashes as she blamed him for moving too quickly. Blamed him for the fact they’ve felt like strangers in this little house. But with his parents both sick, getting married seemed like the next right thing.

An owl flits to his kitchen window once Lily storms out again, leaving nothing but ashes of her disappointment in her wake. Ashes, ashes… James wonders where his spark has gone. He hates to disappoint.

Just wanted to owl and check in. I found myself thinking about you and wanted to make sure you’re okay, with everything changing so quickly. Hope you and your wife figure it out, I’ll be on the 11 AM Knight Bus tomorrow outside Diagon Alley regardless. See you.

He thinks of you, so brave and filled with a spark he used to recognize within himself. This isn’t wrong, he reasons, just difficult. But he won’t admit that taking his wedding band off before settling onto the couch was easier than he thought it would be. He feels lighter. As he takes off his glasses and stares at the ceiling of his living room that night, James wonders how much longer he can ignore his problems by not looking at them properly. How much longer does he have to carry the weight? When will someone help him carry the load?

For now, he tries to sleep. One step at a time, James. Like always. There’s a mission he has to start tomorrow. And he doesn’t want to disappoint you.

—

You’re not surprised when he turns up to your meeting point the next morning, not addressing him when you stick your wand hand out to summon the bus. He bites back a smile, knowing you were right and thinking you see right through him. Now look who’s the eager one.

After paying eleven sickles each, you lead him to a window seat, ignoring the babbles of other passengers as you look out the window.

“You ever think about all these people, with their little lives and everything they have to do?” you pipe up, head against the glass. James scoffs, “I always think about other people. Sometimes I wonder if anyone thinks of me like that. If anyone worries as you do over strangers.”

“I thought we were friends,” you say coyly, still not looking at him, and his heart skips a beat. Probably nerves. “You think Dumbledore cares that he’s sending off two teenagers to fight a war and save the wizarding world?”

“I’m an adult, thank you very much.”

“We’re kids, James,” You look at him, and he blinks at the sound of his given name falling from your lips that he almost loses the next part of your sentence, “we’re kids working towards a bigger picture of world peace. Isn’t that fucking insane that this what our lives amount to?”

He couldn’t agree more, but his forehead creases at your tone.

“Why do you act like your best years are behind you? There’s a lot to live for still,” he murmurs knowingly.

He pats your thigh and the only thing you notice is the tan of his hand against his missing wedding band. Soon it will be replaced by one that binds him to you, temporarily, but it’s jarring all the same. You shake off the uneasy feeling that rises in your stomach.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

James is doing that thing again, the whole savior complex bit that you notice is one and the same with his trying hard to be carefree personality. But you’re coming to learn that James cares. A lot.

—

“Apartment 11B?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Two swigs of Polyjuice Potion did the job once you stepped off the bus and walked through town to the place you’ll inhabit for a fourth of the year, and quickly, you both become unrecognizable to even each other. A blonde eyebrow looks at you under James’ glasses at your hesitation, so you clear your throat.

“For Mr. and Mrs. Fawley. We just got married, you see. Newlywed jitters.” His voice is lighter and more posh as his hand reaches out to rest on your shoulder.

“Hmm, yes. Harry—er…Henrietta and Draco–” the receptionist squints at her paper, and you sigh at how pretentious the names sound together. Not in this life. You ought to wring Alice’s neck. That girl loves to make stories, and the more frilly your personas she created, the more difficult it’ll be to upkeep.

“No need, Etta and Drake are fine, love,” you say with a more confident grin, leaning against your faux husband.

The keys slide across the countertop, and you walk to the elevator, hand in hand until you’re out of sight. As you approach the door, James crouches a bit and puts his hands on his knees.

“What are you doing?”

“Jump up. Gotta carry you over the threshold.”

“Shut up, Drake,” reminding yourself to use his false name in case someone’s watching, but he looks at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Exactly. Just in case. Come on, just indulge me.” You shake your head in disbelief but hop onto his back all the same. Not exactly traditional, but it stirs up a feeling in you that you haven’t felt before. He carries you through the doorway and spins you once, twice, three times before you squeal and he giggles, placing you gently onto the sofa. It’s a cozy apartment with enough space for the two of you, cream walls, and a small kitchen with an island overlooking the entertaining space. The hallway leads to what you presume is the only bedroom, and there’s a nervous energy that sifts through the air as you both place protective charms everywhere, to ward off prying eyes and ears. How intimate. James falls back onto the sofa with a huff, sitting next to you, and both of you are unsure of what to say.

“I can take the sofa,” he says into the silence, and you turn to look at him incredulously.

‘For three months? James, I can't ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“You’re gonna be hunched over by the end of the week. What if we rotate?”

There’s no disagreement, feeling the springs in the cushion beneath your bottoms already. James perks up, leaning over to grab something from his bag, and by the time he leans back up, he looks like himself again, the small dose of Polyjuice wearing off. You can feel your hair go back to its original shade and texture, and he smiles wider when he sees your face.

“Look what I got. Remus gave it to me back at Hogwarts but I never really used up all the film. Thought we could take some pictures and look back on this one day.” It’s sweet, how he loves his friends like they’re an extension of himself. You reckon you don't have anyone like that, smiling at him fumbling with the tiny camera in his hands.

“It’ll take a while to develop. Gotta keep it safe if we’re making it out of this,” you say, taking it from him and throwing yourself back onto the backrest leaning against him to point and shoot one of yourselves in this moment, disheveled and domestic. The flash goes off and he looks like a deer in headlights, making you cackle.

“You miss them?” He’s not sure who you’re referring to, so he rattles on anyway. He loves talking about the people he loves.

“The boys…Just miss being kids at Hogwarts, y’know? The end of the world back then was not getting enough O’s on NEWTs. You?”

“Mhm. None of them are in Britain though. They came for my parents’ funeral, and they always say they’ll visit but…That’s my fault too, I guess.” You tuck your leg underneath you, turning to face him, and he’s cuddled up against a throw pillow.

“Your parents were awesome. Didn’t know them well besides your dad being in the Order and stuff, but they were really brave. Your mom hugged me at my parents’ burial and I think that was the first time I let myself cry after they died. That’s one of the few things I remember from that day.”

A breath of air escapes your lungs at his anecdote. It’s been a few months since they passed but you’ll never stop missing them.

“I don’t remember a lot from theirs either. It’s all kind of been a blur since. I think I remember you and Sirius smoking in the back and him offering me a cigarette.” He laughs silently at the memory of his best friend.

“No one ever talks about how much there is to do after your parents die,” he says, and you roar with agreement.

“Yes! I’m still battling out their assets in court! It’s difficult to live life alone, thinking they’ve set you up for the future, but feeling like a rug’s been pulled out from underneath you. I just wish…They left this world together, y’know? And that’s great, but sometimes I feel selfish wondering what will happen to me.”

James nods slowly, taking your words in. He’s never had anyone to talk about this with, people pitying him instead, or acting like it didn’t matter, but it’s been almost a year and he can’t go to bed without thinking about how his parents died a week apart because even in death, they couldn’t be away for long. James wonders if you’ve noticed that he hasn’t talked about missing his wife, and the selfishness you mentioned prods at him. He smiles grimly, and takes the ring box from your bag, asking for your hand.

“Hey. You’re never gonna be alone again, alright? Not if it’s up to me.”

You roll your eyes as he flips the cover open, revealing the two gold bands, yours with a sizable diamond in the center.

“Do you think I’d give you that much power over me, James? This is all fake.”

“Fake marriage, but a true promise. I think you might, eventually.”

He slides the ring onto your left ring finger, sealing it with a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

—

“The first time you caught my eye it was not love at first sight. Instead, a quiet curiosity was planted in my chest and I knew it was only a matter of time before you sunk beneath my bones and nurtured this deep-seated familiarity into a love so fierce that I would question if I had ever been in love before.” - Lyra Wren

general taglist: @jsjcue

en route taglist: @xcinnamonmalfoyx @babyclea @idkman5335 @timhalamet @ttulipwritezz @lilylovesu @thatonedogwithablog @lovemerigt

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#james potter x reader angst #james potter x reader #marauders x reader #marauders era #mischiefmoons er

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kangshxrtie · 4 months ago

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ch. 30 ⤍ interrogation

you get home a little after midnight, hoping your roommates would already be asleep by the time you walk in. just to be safe, you go in first while kazuha parks the car, figuring you might get bombarded at the door. aside from replying to a few comments, you haven’t checked your phone much since posting the photo, but it’s been on silent the whole time.

nonetheless, the second you open the door, you're hit with it.

"y/n! how could you not tell me immediately" wonyoung practically jumps off the couch to greet you, her arms flailing as she rushes over.

yujin stays on the couch with her arms crossed and a smirk plastered on her face. "i knew something was up when i heard those noises in your room the other day."

leeseo is sitting on the couch, with her phone in her hand, “i’ve been waiting for this one,” she mutters under her breath, amused.

from the corner of your eye, you catch gaeul, rei, and liz all crowding in the doorway of the living room. this is technically the first time they’ll meet kazuha in person.

“where’s kazuha?” gaeul asks as you finally walk into the house, “you’re not hiding her, right?”

“she’s parking,” you reply, “she’ll be here soon.”

“now sit,” rei says, motioning toward the couch. “we need answers.”

you can’t help but laugh nervously as wonyoung practically drags you to the couch, forcing you to sit in the center of the room. the interrogation begins the second you sit down.

“so... how long? we know about the flirting on stream but when did it become official?” yujin asks, eyes locked on you.

"yeah, i know y'all aren't just e-daters so when did this even happen?" liz adds, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

“well…” you hesitate, rubbing the back of your neck. “it kind of just… happened. we’ve filmed some videos together and went on a couple of dates but we didn’t become official official until not too long ago”

wonyoung gasps dramatically. "how long is 'not too long ago'? is this like a today thing?"

“no, but it hasn’t been more than a month yet.” you said.

"and why have we not been updated on this at all?” gaeul asked.

“nobody asked.” you said.

“i didn’t know

"y/n, you guys were flirting non-stop,” rei points out. “like, it wasn’t even subtle.”

“yeah, even when we met her for the first time, it was obvious. you two couldn’t stop staring at each other” wonyoung adds.

"that was not staring." you groan trying to cover your face.

“oh, please," yujin cuts in, laughing. "it was staring. me and wonyoung were literally placing bets on when one of you would confess.”

before you can respond, there’s a knock on the door. you quickly get up and open it, revealing kazuha standing there with an overnight bag over her shoulder and an awkward smile on her face. she pauses for a second, taking in the scene and offering a small wave, “hey.”

"welcome in y/n’s girlfriend," yujin says, grinning.

kazuha sets her bag down on the counter, while wonyoung shifts over to make space for the both of you on the couch. her hand instinctively reaches for yours, intertwining your fingers. the small gesture makes everyone in the room collectively react, letting out a low “ooooh” sound from everyone else in the room.

“now that you’re here, we can ask the real questions.” liz teases, her eyes locked on kazuha.

kazuha smiles, squeezing your hand gently. “second time this week but i’m ready.”

"okay, first things first," gaeul says, narrowing her eyes. "how did this start? and what exactly do you like about her?"

kazuha glances at you, then back at the room. “it started last wednesday, and what do i like about her? there’s a lot, honestly, i like how ”

“that’s a safe answer,” rei mutters, “give us details!”

“details?” kazuha looks at you for help.

“they’re just nosy. ignore them.” you chuckle and squeeze her hand.

yujin laughs, shaking her head. “no, we’re invested. we’ve been watching this unfold since day one.”

“okay, but what was the moment? like, the moment you knew you liked her?” wonyoung asks.

“i think it was when we played our first game together. she was really shy our first meeting but when we were alone on the call together and stayed up talking til’ like three in the morning i just really fell then.” kazuha’s expression softens, her eyes locking onto yours.

you feel your heart skip a beat. the room goes quiet for a second before wonyoung breaks the silence.

“awww, that’s so cute!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together.

rei nudges gaeul. “fucking simps.”

"alright, alright," you say, trying to rein the conversation back. "are we done here now? it’s getting pretty late and we should all probably go to sleep.”

“i’m sure you are,” yujin teased with a smirk as she got up from the couch.

“listen, mind your business,” you shot back, standing up alongside kazuha.

“just don’t be too loud. i know your room is soundproof, but that only goes so far,” gaeul chimed in, her voice teasing.

rei groaned dramatically. “i’m so sad i live next door to you.”

you rolled your eyes, laughing. “just go to sleep, and none of this will be a problem.”

grabbing kazuha’s bag from the counter, you and the rest of the group began walking back to your rooms. the teasing continued, but it was all in good fun. once inside your room, you set kazuha’s bag down on the chair and turned to find her already sitting comfortably on your bed.

you joined her, sitting down next to her as she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear. “i think i survived that pretty well, right?” she whispered, her voice soft but playful.

you couldn’t help but smile, squeezing her hand gently. “you did great,” you murmured back.

her hand lingers, fingers lightly brushing your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. every subtle touch makes you shiver, and you instinctively pull her closer, your arms wrapping tightly around her, refusing to let go. as her tongue teases the outline of your lips, you part them eagerly, tasting the sweetness of her kiss, each stroke of her tongue igniting a fire within you.

a low moan escapes your lips as kazuha’s fingers start to move, tracing delicate circles on your thigh, inching closer to where you crave her touch the most. her breath is hot against your neck as she leans in, her lips brushing your ear.

“god, you’re so hot,” she murmurs, voice breathy and full of want. “i’m so glad you’re mine.”

the kiss grows more urgent, filled with longing and need, each second of separation between you fueling the desperation. kazuha’s fingers continue their tantalizing journey, skimming the edge of your inner thigh. her whisper is a heady mix of desire and restraint.

“i want you so bad,” she breathes, her voice husky with yearning. in response, you push her gently back against the bed, your lips crashing into hers again.

as the kiss between you and kazuha deepens, the passion builds, growing more intense with every passing second. your bodies are pressed tightly together, and you can feel her chest rising and falling in sync with yours, your breaths coming fast and heavy.

kazuha’s hand continues its slow, deliberate path up your thigh, inching closer to where you ache for her touch. the moment she makes contact, a gasp escapes your lips, your body instinctively arching into her.

“i need you,” you murmur against her lips, your voice barely a whisper, thick with desire. her touch is intoxicating, sending waves of heat through your body as you melt under her hands. in response, you deepen the kiss, your lips moving against hers with even more urgency.

her hand moves higher, and the heat between your legs becomes almost unbearable. without breaking the kiss, you shift, straddling her on the couch. the warmth of her body presses against yours, the friction only amplifying the tension between you.

kazuha pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss, her gaze locking with yours. her eyes are dark, filled with longing and need, and the intensity of her stare sends a shiver down your spine.

as you continue exploring each other, kazuha’s hand moves down from your thigh, her fingers teasing the button of your pants. her touch is precise as she unfastens it with ease, her eyes never leaving yours. the zipper slides down slowly and your heart pounds in your chest, the tension between you building with every second.

when she reaches the end of the zipper, she pauses, a sultry smile tugging at her lips. “can i?” she asks, her voice low. you meet her gaze, unable to resist her and nod, your body already trembling with desire.

kazuha's hand slips inside your pants, her fingers exploring the soft skin of your inner thigh. a soft moan escapes your lips as her touch sends shivers down your spine, tracing delicate patterns over your skin. her gaze remains locked on yours, intense and full of desire, as she leans in to kiss you deeply, her lips warm and insistent against yours.

when her fingers finally reach your core, a wave of pleasure washes over you, and you gasp softly. “you’re so wet,” kazuha whispers, her voice low and seductive, each word sending a thrill through your body. her fingers begin to stroke you gently, teasingly, spreading your wetness with slow, deliberate movements.

“f-fuck, zuha,” you pant, your breath catching in your throat as her touch sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

without breaking the kiss, you grab her wrist and guide her hand to your clit, and she immediately takes the hint. her fingers move with more purpose, rubbing you vigorously, while her other hand slides under your shirt and finds its way to your bra. her fingers pinch and tug at your nipple, adding another layer of sensation that has your body trembling.

“y-yes… just like that,” you slur, your body arching into her touch. “feels so fucking good.”

kazuha smirks against your lips. “good,” she murmurs, her voice thick with satisfaction. “because i’m not done with you yet.”

with a swift but deliberate movement, her fingers slip lower, teasing your entrance before pushing in slowly. at the same time, her thumb swirls across your clit, the sensation overwhelming you in the best way. “you’re so tight, y/n,” she mutters, her breath hot against your skin.

her fingers begin a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out, while her thumb continues to circle your clit. your body responds instinctively, muscles tightening as you feel yourself closer and closer to the edge. the pleasure is building fast, and your breaths come in short, desperate gasps.

“oh, fuck, zuha,” you moan, unable to hold back.

kazuha looks up at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect she’s having on you. “mmm, i love it when you moan my name,” she says, her voice dripping with desire. “say it again for me, baby.”

you oblige, moaning her name once more as her fingers move with even more intensity. she grins, her satisfaction clear as she continues to work you, each stroke bringing you closer to the brink. “you’re so fucking hot,” she murmurs, her voice husky and full of need. “i could do this to you all night.”

you can barely think as the pleasure overwhelms you, the sensations almost too much but also exactly what you need. your hands find their way into kazuha’s hair, pulling her closer as you press your lips to hers in a bruising kiss. the heat between you grows even more intense as your bodies meld together, her fingers still working their magic as your kiss deepens.

every brush of her lips, and every movement of her fingers sends you spiraling as you cling to kazuha.

“zuha, i’m close,” you gasp against her lips, your body writhing with the intensity of it all.

kazuha doesn’t miss a beat. she responds by increasing the pace and before you know it, the tension snaps, and you cry out her name as the orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body. “a-ah, sh-shit, zuha!” you gasp, your body convulsing, completely at her mercy.

she doesn’t stop, her fingers continuing their gentle strokes, drawing out the sensation and making it even more intense as your body quivers beneath her touch. you collapse onto her, trembling with the aftershocks. kazuha watches you with a satisfied look in her eyes, a flicker of lust as she brings her fingers to her lips and licks them slowly.

then, without a word, she wraps her arms around you, pulling you close, letting the warmth of her body settle against yours. the two of you stay like that for a moment, catching your breath, and letting the world slow down around you.

after a while, you pull back slightly, both of you still a little breathless, your heart racing but calming. a grin spreads across your face. “wow,” you say, your voice hoarse and soft. “i know this sounds hella cringy, but it seriously gets better every time.”

kazuha grins right back at you, looking pleased with herself. “i’ve had some practice,” she teases.

you roll your eyes but can’t help laughing. “of course you’d say that,” you chuckle, lightly smacking her arm. she just smiles, pulling you back into her embrace.

"as long as i’m the only person you’re practicing on all is good," you say, leaning in to give her a quick kiss.

kazuha responds eagerly, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling back with a grin. "oh definitely. we just started i’m not fucking that up already," she says.

you nod, “that’s good. i like you too much now to let you go.”

ALL CHAPTERS !!! | NEXT CH !!!

an ⤍ ngl i was never gonna write smut for this book but some horny mfs wanted it soo bad

#nakamura kazuha x reader #le sserafim x reader #kazuha x reader #nakamura kazuha #ive x reader #kazuha #le sserafim #gxg #kpop #ahn yujin #kim gaeul #jang wonyoung #ive liz #kim jiwon #naoi rei #lee hyunseo #leeseo

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semperama · 2 years ago

Note

for the setting prompt:

032. a quiet hospital room please! 💓

Daniel panicked, when it happened. He might have seemed calm, but inside he felt like an engine that couldn't shift gears, revs climbing higher and higher until he was sure he'd combust. Max wouldn't let him call an ambulance, so he had to grit his teeth and half-support, half-carry Max to his car, white-knuckle his way through the dark streets with Max groaning and clutching his stomach in the passenger seat.

Appendicitis. What a joke. Daniel always thought if he ended up visiting Max in the hospital, it would be because of their job, because of a crash, something far scarier than this. It's only fucking appendicitis, and yet he couldn't stop his fingers from shaking as he sat in the waiting room, couldn't sit still, his knee bouncing up and down. He bit his cuticles bloody. He kept checking his phone, like someone was going to call him and tell him everything would be okay.

When Max is finally out of surgery and Daniel gets to go back to the room to see him, Max is sitting up in bed and grinning, and it all feels...surreal.

"You told my mom she does not need to come, right?" is the first thing Max says to him. "They say I can go home in the morning, and I will be fine to race next week."

Daniel checks his watch. It's 4:00 in the morning, and they've been here a little over three hours all told. He updated Sophie when the surgeon came out and told him the appendectomy went smoothly, but she was already at the airport, and Daniel doesn't blame her.

"She'll want to see you anyway, Max," he says. His voice is hoarse. He clears his throat. "I think you scared us all a bit."

Max pulls a face. "It wasn't my fault, of course."

"Of course," Daniel agrees, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

Max shifts in bed, then grimaces, his hand going to his middle. Daniel rushes to his side, but he has no idea what to do when he gets there, his hands hovering uselessly in the air. "Want me to call someone?"

"No." Max settles back against the pillow and his face smooths out. "They said it was normal to be a little sore. I really am fine." He looks up at Daniel's face, then grins. "You did not have to wait here all night. You should go home and get some sleep."

They would have had to drag Daniel out if they wanted him to leave. He keeps seeing Max's face in his head, pale and sweaty, contorted in pain. What would have happened if Daniel didn't get them to the hospital in time? What if Max hadn't woken him soon enough? Knowing Max, he probably laid there in bed for far too long, not wanting to worry Daniel or inconvenience him.

Lately, Max has been spending the night at his place more and more, passing out right after they fool around, and Daniel hasn't known how to feel about it--until now. Now he's so fucking glad they were together last night. Now he never wants to be apart from Max for a single second.

"I told the nurse I was your boyfriend." It comes out of Daniel in a rush, his voice breaking on the last word. He had no idea if they'd let him stay if he didn't lie, and what was he supposed to say, anyway? Max is a guy I sleep with sometimes? Max is my teammate, my friend, but we haven't talked about what else we are?

"Okay," Max says slowly. The grin slides off his face, and his brow furrows. "That is okay."

"Is it?" Daniel can hear his voice climbing in pitch, but he can't seem to stop it. The room is quiet, except for the soft hum and beep of whatever monitor they have Max hooked up to. The whole hospital floor is quiet; it's the middle of the fucking night and a terrible time to be having this conversation. "We haven't even...we never talk about it."

Max frowns at him. "You hate to talk," he says. "Any time you feel like we are about to have a real conversation, you make a joke."

"Yeah, well. I guess that was before I thought you were gonna fucking die." Daniel runs his hands up through his curls and then down his face, digging his fingertips into his eyes. He can't look at Max for this part. "You scared the fuck out of me, Max."

"Daniel." Max's voice is soft, and when Daniel makes himself open his eyes to look at him, he sees that Max is holding out a hand to him. "It is okay."

Daniel takes a deep, shaky breath, blows it out slowly, and then slides his fingers into Max's. His palm is warm and dry, not clammy like the one that shook him awake a few hours ago. And Max is smiling again, the corners of his eyes crinkling with it. Daniel wants to climb into the bed with him. He wants to kiss him. He wants to hide in him until everything feels safe and normal again.

But then, maybe safe and normal have been overrated, in their own way.

"You want me to be your boyfriend?" Max asks, and maybe it sounds like he's teasing Daniel, but maybe Daniel deserves it.

"It sure seems like you need someone to take care of you, yeah," Daniel says. He means to match Max's tone, but he still sounds too serious, too on edge.

Max tugs a little on his hand, brings his fingers to his lips, and kisses them. It's a silly gesture, but it makes Daniel feel like his heart is going to explode in his chest.

"Maybe we can take care of each other," Max says, and then tugs harder until Daniel is leaning over him, kissing him after all.

"Deal," he says against Max's mouth, and finally, he smiles.

#maxiel #f1 #my writing

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 1 year ago

Text

Resonance [Chapter One] Fate [Qin Shi Huang]

A/n: this will be a short story collection. I will put the masterlist out shortly. Please enjoy. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged. The updates for this might be slow.

Warning(s): gender-neutral reader, Greek lore, questioning worth, lucid dreams, soulmate au.

No Minors Allowed!!

This is a dream.

You know because you've had it before, more times than you would like to admit. And like those times before, it always ends the same way; with you on your side, writhing in sheer pleasure as someone wrecks you beyond reason.

It is realistic and carnal, as though it is not a dream. You can feel every single thing; the surges of pleasure and the rise and fall of their chest on your back as they thrust into you. It is no wonder you wake up each time a needy, hot mess, wanting more.

This morning is no different.

When you come to, the first thing you feel is the lingering touch on your heated skin, a phantom sensation that tickles your sex. However, they soon fade and yet again you are left with an itch you can not quite scratch. It is infuriating. You have tried, whether it be bringing someone back to your room or masturbating. No matter how enjoyable either is, neither of them compares to the phantom in your dreams.

There is just something unique about them. It is the best sex you've ever had and that is truly sad.

With a frustrated sigh, you leave your warm bed and go into the bathroom to wash up. Helios waits for no one, already bringing light into the world with his chariot. You can feel its warm rays pour through your window as you prepare. Once you are dressed, you leave the room and wander outside to take in the fresh flower-scented air. Chloris, the goddess of flowers appears to have visited. The sweet scent permeates your senses, inciting a hum.

You rush down the stairs from your remote palace and pace across Olympus to the dwelling of your mentor. The Goddess of hearth and home had been kind enough to take you on as her mentee the moment you came to live here.

No, you are not one of the main twelve, but during the Gigantomachy, a war between the Greek Gods and the Giants, led by Gaia, you had done much to assist Zeus and as a reward, he had granted you residence on the mountain, a generous offer that you could not decline, for you had no real purpose before as a lesser deity.

But now I do.

At the edge of the mountain overlooking the town of Litochoro, you come to a two-floor stone villa. Various Bosnian pines surround the house and to the side is a fenced-in pig pen. You walk up to the door and let yourself in, as Hestia had instructed many times before, hurrying into the living room where a gorgeous fireplace sits.

Picking up a bronze lantern decorated with a key pattern from the mantle, you ignite the lantern with a wooden stick using the flames in the fireplace, then you attach it to your belt.

A gentle laugh turns your attention to Hestia, who walks into the room from the upper floor; a veil rests over her long blonde curls.

"I almost thought I would have to send for you," she states with a kind smile.

An embarrassed heat spreads to your face.

"I apologize. Sleep did not come easy to me."

You opt not to mention the heated dream.

"Morpheus has not been kind to you? I shall have a word with him," Hestia retorts.

"My mind wanders. It's not his fault," you lie.

You do not want to get Morpheus in trouble. It is doubtful that the God of Dreams and Nightmares is the one who gave you the lewd visions.

"I hope you put to rest whatever thoughts might be troubling you," the Goddess states.

You do too, even though oddly, they are pleasant.

"If this task I have given you should become too much, you would let me know, would you not?" Hestia asks.

"Of course," you answer. "But it is not too much. I rather like aiding Olympus in your stead."

It is your task to maintain the hearth fire of the twelve, minus Hephaestus, of course. With the lantern, you can handle the flame from Hestia's hearth. It's a minor duty, but you take pride in it.

"I should get on. The others are waiting," you point out.

Hestia smiles and nods briefly. She then sees you out, waving as you rush from her villa back toward the way you came.

For the next half hour, you traverse from palace to palace to complete your task, collecting a share of some form of material sacrifice from each of the deities, as promised to Hestia.

It is when you visit Hermes, the God of trade and wealth - among many other things - in his abode that your life turns upside down.

A mass of flames rests in your open palm as you sit in front of the burning fireplace in Hermes' home, waiting for him to return. You toy with it, rotating it around your hand and contorting it into the shape of a songbird. The heat does not bother you, though unfortunately you doubt you can manipulate all flames, only the ones given by Lady Hestia herself.

That is why I must use the lantern when transporting them.

Or else her flames would vanish.

The soft sound of footsteps turns your attention to Hermes as he walks back into the room with a jar in his hand. You send the songbird back into the lantern and stand to meet him.

"Honey for my dear aunt," he points out.

You accept it from him.

"She will be pleased," you state.

"That I hope," Hermes states.

His calculating eyes trail over you for a moment, then he hums.

"There is something different about you today."

You raise a curious brow.

"Sleep deprivation perhaps."

"No," Hermes states. "That is not it. You often come here looking tired."

Whether or not he notices your glare, he doesn't make mention of it. His keen eyes trail your body again before he widens them. You are taken off guard having never seen Hermes express such a strong emotion.

"What is it, Lord Hermes?"

He points a gloved hand down to your footwear, and when you raise a leg, you notice a thin red string tied around your ankle. There is another tied around the opposite and the length of them spreads further than you can see, leading outside the palace.

"What is this?" You ask in shock.

You try to remove it, but the string slips through your fingers as if it is intangible. It flashes in and out of sight for a moment before remaining seen. An air of panic consumes you. You fear this might be a curse.

"That is peculiar," Hermes states with a hum.

"Do you know what this is? What does it mean?" You ask.

The black-haired God hums.

"I haven't a clue."

He leans down to examine the thread, watching as it slips through his fingers.

"At first I thought it could be a prank. These strings are identical to the Divine Weapon that Apollo uses, except for the fact they can not be touched."

And the fact they are not shining like the sun, you opt not to mention.

"So I assume the Moirai put them on you for some reason," he adds.

Your eyes widen. Why would the Fates do this to you? What did it mean?

"Am I…about to die?" You ask in fear.

Hermes looks unconcerned. He stands and walks over to the fireplace to look into the fire.

"Who is to say? I suppose you could ask the Moirai of your destiny. Running tasks for Aunt Hestia must not be what you are meant to do."

If not that, then what? You were certain that you had no worth other than helping out the Twelve Gods of Olympus.

"I assume I will have to ask Lord Zeus for his permission to seek their aid," you utter.

"That would be the best decision," Hermes agrees. "Though I suppose if you ask nicely enough, Apollo might offer you some incentive."

You groan.

There is nothing wrong with Apollo, he is just extremely narcissistic.

"I shall speak with him tomorrow then. There is still much to do," you state.

Hermes nods.

"And I shall tell Lord Zeus that you might be coming by."

You are thankful. With a respectful bow, you leave his abode, intent on returning to Hestia with her share of the sacrifices.

I have a job to fulfill after all.

Even though it isn't your true destiny.

A dark cloud rests over your head, filling you with despair. You can feel Atropos, the Inflexible One, turning her scissors to your thread.

#record of ragnorak fandom #qin shi huang x reader #gender neutral reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok fanfic #soulmate au #ror qin shi huang

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moccahobi · 4 months ago

Text

A Fae's Brew To Take You Away [Chapter 27]

Summery: Photography: Taehyung loves it. Specifically he loves film photography. He even spent an entire day hiking and taking photos in a meadow (there was a woman there at first but she left soon after). For Y/n though, Taehyung’s trip to the meadow was the start of something bad. Something real bad.

Pairings: Taehyung (BTS) x Reader, Yoongi (BTS) x Hoseok (BTS)

Rating: Teens and up

Chapter warnings: n/a

Series warnings (I update as I figure more stuff out): horror, injury, threats, character death, major angst, emotional distress, alcohol, verbal fight, anxiety

Word Count: 1.9k words

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fae AU!, College AU!

Tag list: @youarejesting, @i-am-moonchild, @oddinary4bts

Chapter 23 >> Masterlist

A/N: Final chapter!!! After 5+ years of posting! I intend to write a reflection on it soon. Hehe. Thank you all for joining me on this journey.

Taehyung rushed quickly back to their apartment, his heart leaping in his chest as he rushed to get the frozen sweets to the party celebrating Y/n and Seokjin’s “birthdays”. The six (Taehyung, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Seokjin, and Y/n) somehow managed to find three apartments neighboring eachother a few months ago and were excitedly taking advantage of how close they all were. It wasn’t uncommon for Y/n to make breakfast for those with early shifts or classes (something that Taehyung went to even when he didn’t have an early shift). Jungkook would host late night cramming sessions that Taehyung would vehemently protest before and subtly offer snacks during. Namjoon tried to start a book club but Seokjin seemed to be the only person who was interested in something like that.

Stuff seemed to look up for everyone after the move and Taehyung couldn’t be happier about it. Y/n and Seokjin got jobs, Yoongi was close to graduating, Namjoon had a new (albeit boring) research project, Jungkook was preparing for his first semester back from his medical leave, and Taehyung was back to photographing (mostly Y/n). People were recovering and it made Taehyung happy to see. Jungkook and Namjoon had even started playing video games again! The two even started a game that Taehyung had gotten with the hope of starting with Jungkook but Namjoon and him seemed to have started it. After the initial disappointment, it made Taehyung’s day. Jungkook was so distant from Namjoon for so long and seeing them get back into activities together was refreshing.

“I see you got the samanco!”

Taehyung jumped as Y/n fell into stride with Taehyung, bumping shoulders and laughing at Taehyung’s stress.

“I did. Why are you here instead of with everyone else?” Taehyung looked over at her briefly before looking away, the beauty that shone from her heart was too much to look at for the time being.

“Seokjin is too busy wowing everyone with his cooking… little do they know how bad it will taste. Silly fae still hasn’t gotten the hang of human seasoning.”

“You still haven’t either.” Taehyung laughed and so did Y/n.

“True, but I know not to act like I do. I couldn’t watch them get so excited just to suffer. You got some wings too, right?”

“Oh shit! I knew I forgot something.”

Y/n shrugged, “I mean… I like his cooking so it won’t be a problem for me. But you humans.”

“Seokjin and you are human, you know that?” Taehyung asked, knowing that she’d get a bit sad but wanting to make sure she remembered that, hoping that she remembered that. She was human now.

“Yeah. Sometimes I still feel like a fae. I was meditating this morning and swear I almost touched my magic again. Got me so excited for what it might mean for Hoseok.”

Taehyung sighed and nodded, “Are you thinking of telling the others?”

“Just you,” She said, giving Taehyung’s stomach a bunch of tiny caterpillars that would soon form chrysalis, “I don’t want to get their hopes up. The chances of me actually being able to access that magic again is long lost, but I am exploring my options for Hoseok.”

Taehyung hummed, biting back a silly smile, “I understand. In some ways, I wonder if Hoseok not returning will be better for Yoongi hyung.”

“Possibly. I don’t think that is for us to decide.” Y/n said as she held the door to their apartment building open for Taehyung, “Now. I want to warn you, I think Seokjin and Yoongi are flirting.”

“Oh? If you’re thinking it, then I don’t doubt it.” Taehyung laughed and shook his head. He might’ve been flirting with Y/n for a while now but she never seemed to understand that… or if she did, never brought it up or took a step further (but Taehyung didn’t want to think about that).

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She looked affronted and slapped Taehyung’s arm playfully before pressing the button to call the elevator.

“Nothing.” Taehyung laughed, “It could be good if Yoongi starts dating him. Seokjin is a good guy.”

Y/n nodded, “And he’s been quite stuck in his brain after everything with Jimin.”

“Do you think either of you will be willing to share what happened with him some day?”

Y/n shook her head and though Taehyung wanted to ask more, the elevator was opening and Namjoon was there on the phone with someone from his lab. Taehyung looked around the small elevator, trying hard to not listen too deeply to Namjoon’s call, his free hand resting on the elevator railing as he leaned back against the wall. Y/n seemed to be thinking similarly, taking out her phone and opening some app, resting against the elevator wall next to Taehyung. A bit of warmth on his hand stole Taehyung’s attention and when he looked down, he saw Y/n’s hand on top of his. Warmth spread to his face and neck but he didn’t say anything, instead choosing to look around more intently, looking everywhere other than her face.

The ding of the elevator marked the end of Namjoon’s conversation and the quiet walk back to Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment where, sure enough Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook were all chatting away as Seokjin plated a vibrant looking dinner. It didn’t look scary like Y/n said it would taste but after so long of eating food she’s cooked, Taehyung doesn’t doubt it. Instead, he puts the groceries away and sets the table as others talked, unaware of the soft glances Y/n was sparing to him when he wasn’t looking.

The food was… bad. It tasted like burnt chloroform. Like when Taehyung drunkenly tried to eat a leaf and shortly after had poison control’s phone number memorized. Surely that wouldn’t happen tonight but that didn’t make the food taste any more edible. Yoongi seemed suspiciously great at acting like the food was decent, showering Seokjin in praise about the vibrancy of the dish (at least he was only stretching the truth with his compliments).

The two were very likely flirting.

Would anything come from it?

Taehyung didn’t know but his mind stayed on that throughout the night as people started playing some music, barely listening to the occasional ads and updates about vacuums, recently solved missing person reports, and the latest fad accessory that “everyone needed”. He was hoping beyond hope that Yoongi and Seokjin would be able to make a relationship work, that they’d be able to quickly jump into a relationship rather than dancing around each other.

At some point in the night, Taehyung excused himself to the balcony, a much larger space than their last balcony that seemed to be just as crowded with plants as their last one. He needed a breather from all the warmth, loud noise, and building emotion. This was in some ways, their first real celebration since the… events last year and it was emotional for everyone. Out on this balcony, surrounded by all his plants and the soft sound of cars and partying people underneath, Taehyung felt himself calm down.

The sliding door squealed as someone else joined Taehyung on the balcony, Y/n.

“You know, fae have this tradition of making big life decisions around yearly events. I don’t think this is as common for humans. All the media I see seems to talk about tons of holidays and celebrations that can change person to person. I’m not used to the human world yet but I am slowly learning. This fae tradition hasn’t left me yet. I don’t know if it quite will.”

“I didn’t know that. You and Seokjin don’t often talk about the fae world much.” He said, looking at her side profile as she looked down to the people walking by.

She shrugged, “I wasn’t really part of it once I declared a potions apprenticeship and I think Seokjin doesn’t say much because of me. With how long we’ve been friends, he seems to have learned quite quickly how little I enjoy talking about it. He misses it a lot… but holds back because of me. He lost access to the fae world because of me too.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like talking about it either. He had to leave it behind as well. Besides, he didn’t need to become human to help out.”

She nodded, “True. There is some of that too.”

“See? You’re not all at fault.” Taehyung laughed quietly and smiled, hoping to cheer Y/n up a bit from her moping.

“Maybe, but you want to know a secret?”

“What?”

“I’m not too upset about what happened.” Her eyes widened before she started speaking quickly, “I mean I am! I am sad at the loss of friends and my loss of connection to the fae world and fae magic and I struggle because of all that’s happened… but if it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have met such amazing people, like Jungkook. I wouldn’t have found you.”

She was looking at Taehyung, emotion swirling in her eyes communicating small and silent messages of love. Were they always this close?

“I am glad I found you too. I… I am really inspired by you.” He couldn’t say it… not right now. Not when so much was already happening.

“Oh? I am honored… I really like you.” Her eyes flicked down and Taehyung’s heart leapt in his throat.

“Oh?” He cringed at the small sound that left him but couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yeah. And… you know how I was talking about fae tradition earlier?”

He nodded.

“It’s an annual thing tonight.”

He nodded.

“Would you want to be my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

Wait.

What?

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. That’s something humans do right? When they like someone romantically?”

“Uh. Yes.” Taehyung’s brain wasn’t processing. How was he even supposed to? She seemed so oblivious to his moves… and was suddenly asking?

“Oh great! I thought so! I was reflecting and noticed you had done some courting things recently and figured since we reached an annual event it would be a good time to ask you out!” She looked so excited as she talked, “Oh! I even got you something.”

She ducked away, crouching down, and grabbing something, “I saw it at the store when I was shopping with Jungkook! An air plant! It smelled soooo good! I think it will fit in really well in your bedroom!”

Her eyes were shining as Taehyung gingerly accepted the small plant, its leaves curling up towards Taehyung’s heart, “Thank you.”

“So! Boyfriend?” She rocked on her feet excitedly, and Taehyung found himself laughing.

“Normally, humans date for a little before they put a label on things.” Her excited smile fell and Taehyung quickly continued, grabbing one of her hands with his free hand, “But I get that you want to respect fae tradition so I’d love to be your boyfriend.”

She jumped excitedly around the small balcony before pulling Taehyung tightly into her arms, looking at him with a large and happy smile, “Can I kiss you, boyfriend?”

Those caterpillars she’d given him earlier had somehow started bursting from the chrysalis that Taehyung hadn’t even noticed them weave, and as he nodded excitedly before leaning in, their lips touching in a soft caress, the butterflies took flight.

#wkcnet #bts fan fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction #bts v x reader #bts taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #v x reader #bts supernatural au #bts fae au #bts fairy au #bts angst #bts fluff #afbttya

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danielleverboski2b · 1 year ago

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Danielle verboski

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downbadreading · 2 years ago

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OK I FINALLY WAKE UP AND FULLY FUNCTIONING SO HERE YOU GO. i put the read more because it might contain spoiler imo hehe

hwa and writer are liars lmao first of all umm ma'am what is this what are you doing what what why

by all mean when even the taxi driver is worried and anxious and become concern for her i can't help but be like awwww that so sweet but she know what she's walking to she just won't stop anyway moving on

HER WEARING BLACK SKIRT??!!!?? I WAS LIKE OH DAMN YN WENT ALL OUT WITH BLACK DRESS I JUST KNOW IT AND A MATCHING LINGERIE GIRL WAS READY

oh btw you know this is random but seeming he was mentioned two time and the cirtumcase does make it seems like something was there so do we... by all mean.. will know the control man??? i would like to write about this later on but mmy curiousity got the best of me because the tone a little bit friendlier and he was there when yn and hwa went upstairs

AND OH MY GOD. you did not put seonghwa in his distressed knitted top with NOTHING underneath i think i know what it means and if he does not wearing a shirt underneath for real it's a mere excuse of clothing damn it

'maybe it will be Seonghwa to get you some pills to soothe the ache.

… If he wasn’t San’s god-damned roommate.'

I SCREAMED AT THIS PART LIKE HELLO MISS

the molly scene? the fuck off she's taken? the damn sunglasses? 100% frat, bad boy coded and i will take it too

and yeah i think since for all chapter before this we we're seeing it from yn perspective maybe we have been wearing a matching rose tinted glasses all this time because san do this a lot?? like sorry i too thought san is that nerd kinda person but no. no. no.

this is getting out of hand but moving on. THE GRINDING ON TH EDANCE FLOOR? THE RAILING UP? THE TENSION? CHEF KISS. SUPER DUPER GOOD. LIKE NEATLY WRITTEN. I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE RUSHED BUT NO. IT'S INTENSE.

“He tried to get back with his ex.” after this sentence for the record i'm putting san on jeopardy. since when you say it again? i can kick you san, i will. THE URGE TO SMACK MEN

wait this rb is getting way too long i'm going to stop soon promise there;s just like five paragraph max after this one

i know that hwa hear them all night it's obvious reading this now they both are destined to be a roomie they share the same braincell, equal to zero.

the full of mirror shit? so hot i was like UWUFHWRUHHRUGBIRBTBG AT FOUR IN THE MORNING HAVE SOME MERCY

i still wear the tinted glassed seems like because at first i thought hwa is gonna be the second lead who's i might do wrong thing but i can treat you better and not treating you like a second option but oh it goes down the drain as usual.

OKAY BUT HE CUM INSIDE AND OANICKED ASKING IF SHE'S ON PILL AND THE FUCKING LEAVE? NEXT TIME I SAW HIM ON THIS FIC I WILL CHOP IT OFF (or will i let see if i will put away the damn glasses after this)

the "y/n?" at the end got me screaming. HOLY SHIT. Especially if they're Choi San and avoidant of conflict. HELLO THIS ONE TOO? HOW WILL THIS TURNED OUT NOW I'M EXCITED

okay so this is basically my thought while reading the fic, i'm rereading it as i'm typing hehe so it's a lot lot ik but it's a great chapter and thank you for updating >_< i enjoy this roller coaster ride<3

BTW MINGI DJ-ING IS FIRE I LIKE IT WHENEVER HE SAY SOMETHING THING ESCALATED

2/2

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 [𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬] | choi san x fem!reader

PART THREE of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser

“Be mine tonight, Y/N.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒��: The hour is twisted. You’re not at a club, you’re not sober, but most importantly, you’re not with him. Will Seonghwa do? No, of course not.

But he leaves you no other chance.

“You’re so pathetic, it might actually be worth a try.”

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: angst, smut

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 2nd half of PART THREE

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 13.3k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): drug-use, drug abuse, alcohol, mdma (ecstasy, molly), vulgar language, just a lot of vulgarities and profanity, hate-fuck?, aggressive, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, sex with feelings but no love, sex with no respect, cumming inside; reader cant stop thinking about san, writer is a bit stoic, seonghwa is a hot bitch, hwa and writer are liars lmao

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: the border looks that ugly on purpose btw not that you think otherwise LMAO

on ao3, this chapter is called “insanity” and i can’t promise it will be the only seonghwa-centred part throughout the series, but do please enjoy for the filth and angst of it all hehe!! <33 if you're asking “does san even make an appearance here?” i won’t tell you :P i know it's intimidating since there's just about like 10k build-up (because i'm a bitch LMAO) so if u wanna skip just find the second border i guessssssss

also, i really recommend listening to KLOUD's ESCAPE HALLOWEEN set (it's a soundcloud link) or any other hard tekno for the whole immersive experience lmao !!! <33

and also, thank you all very much for 100 followers and over 1000 notes ! ! ! wtf it's all happening so fast i can't catch up with yall....

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @brown88 : @svintsandghosts: @hanniebeesworld : @downbadreading : @shingsoluvely (kissing all of yall <33)

Didn’t Seonghwa say “club” or are you being some conservative narc flaking out?

You’re standing in front of a white, slightly burnt industrial building that is barely holding on by itself, and taking into account how many people are smoking around here, the likeliness that it will catch on fire again is not too low. You can’t believe that you’re going to meet Seonghwa inside here, let alone San, let alone anyone with a healthy sense for flight or fight, but here you are, waking up to the line with confident steps.

Yes, it has made you very anxious that even the taxi-driver had no idea where he was heading. He promised to drive you back home if anything happened, so the taxi-hotline is on speed-dial— just in case— and you just thought, holy fuck, hopefully Seonghwa won't leave me alone here.

But once you’d seen the seemingly endless line of people you knew you have arrived at the right place. Or at least something like the right place. It all seems off, this building in the middle of nowhere outside the city, but you told the driver the vague address and he found you this hidden ware- and clubhouse, both of you hesitating to confirm that this was the correct location.

Nothing here seems legal, smells legal, looks legal— oh well.

The only thing you can say with certainty is is that you are looking and smelling the best you have ever looked and smelled this entire semester, and even if you have no fucking clue who these people that are whistling at you are, you know you’ve done everything right tonight when they wave at you to join them. You just skipped a whole chunk of the line here, but nobody seems to mind it. What a democratic party, maybe it’s not all that foul play and people do appreciate good things.

It’s not an exaggeration or empty self-boast: You, in your skin-tight, revealing black body-con dress, skin glowing under the harsh night-light, are absolutely ravishing. There are looks on you — uncountably many of them, and usually, you’d fold under their heavy gaze, but having taken a few shots of the cheap rum back at home, you reciprocate their curious eyes with a sleek, cheeky smile, down-right inviting them to bathe in your appearance.

While the group of people take in the presence of you, blurting out their first thoughts immediately upon thinking, your confidence only grows bigger. Thank god drunk people say the truth, because “damn, she’s hot” is the ego-boost you needed to face whatever awaits you in that cubic building.

“ARE YOU FUCKING READY?”, booms out of it and it seems like a voice sample that’s been altered that hellishly deep. The crowd outside cheers. They're not even a part of the shenanigans yet, but still screaming and already moving their body in anticipation, throwing funny looking candy (you’re very sure that’s molly) inside their mouths. They’re ready, but Y/N, are you? It is an honest question to ask yourself, and as you inhale the smell of people smoking the devil’s lettuce around you, you draw out how the night might progress for them.

You don’t know about San’s whereabouts, only that Seonghwa and him are going separately, which is a big plus if you want to fuck him today.

Uh-huh. Fuck Seonghwa. You’ve made it up in your mind because he just wouldn’t stop hinting at it in the car this morning. He is going to buy you drinks, going to show you his dancing, but most importantly, going to “make you enjoy yourself”, which of course, could just be wishful thinking from you iterating the conversation, but Seonghwa wouldn’t have bought the tickets for you for free if he wasn’t expecting some type of reward, would he?

At the minimum, the hinting painfully reminded you of the way you talked to San the very first days you first insinuated that he could stay over at your house and — oh, golly! — sleep there. Coming to think of it, your talk actually never worked, and it still ended up being San who made the first sexual move. You’re going to save Seonghwa from this embarrassment, and if not, you’re going to free yourself from your own embarrassment for if you do see San and his volleyball-“date” or whatever here.

Anyhow, at the maximum, you have a brain and are fully aware of the fact that people don’t “meet” at the club to just have a chat, whether it's him or San. People “meet” at the club to get crazy and fuck, and that’s exactly what you’re doing with Seonghwa — End of story. San is not going to write this chapter today. He won’t even end up in the epilogue, that’s how much you’re going to focus on Seonghwa. Go down. Get him on. Get on with him.

You bop your head a little bit to the deep bass that’s vibrating through the walls of the warehouse and the line is taking a painfully long time to move forward. You watch the people in your group chug down their self-mixed abominations and how they're throwing the remaining glass on the floor, whiffing their stimulants through their joints or gulping it down by tablets. Letting out a huff to exhale the sharp smell of weed, you try to become as detached as the ones around you, at the very least assimilate to their mood. You’re going to be with these people tonight, and just by putting one and one together, you get the feeling that it will be a long, ruthless evening. You can hear intoxicated screams leave the front door, the deep voice continuing to hype up their cheers.

It's all a hivemind of pure madness and … well, you're here for it, it seems like, no? Seonghwa is not going to be an exception, and you brace yourself to be meeting your date here.

Show you his dancing, he said…

You don’t know whether the DJ playing some extraordinary remixes or whatever to be deserving this much of screaming feedback, but it’s definitely music to get your mind lost to, you'll give this guy Mingi that; Splurging, ear-numbing beats and basses, inviting you to rock your body. You don’t hate the music, not at all. It just makes you question how Seonghwa was imagining to impress you. Here you are imagining body-rolls or whatnot, but this hard style techno isn't really the tune for that, is it? Okay, let's just say it's not music you'd turn on to get yourself into the mood on a Saturday night, that's what's there to it.

It’s ironical, really. Usually around this time you’d be fumbling around your phone on your couch to ask San if he’s free or not, and sometimes he is, but most of the time he’s not. Those days where he just comes over on your mark have been over long time. Now, he’ll either show up at your house unprecedented or ask you to show up at his house in an ungodly hour. A butterfly effect of some sorts. You woke up early because of San's mistress and here you are, lining up to become Seonghwa's. Is this right? "I heard you were going to be at Mingi’s party. Meet me there." Even now you’re trying to convince yourself that this contact name “volleyball” could be anyone, maybe even just a friend that is trying to link up at this not-so party-looking party. Hm, you think, would a friend text him so intimidatingly? San hates periods to end messages, it scares him. So no, not a friend. At least not a friend that knows him as much as you do. Someone he had a fight with, maybe? No, Choi San doesn’t have fights, he’s too avoidant of conflict for that. It has got to be someone that has once been close to him and a bit too close to your liking.

No, no, fuck no, let’s stop this, you murmur to yourself and wriggle down your dress so it covers your ass at least.

Fucking Seonghwa. That’s your one and only mission tonight, of course followed by having fun and getting all hell loose.

It will just be one night and it will either make you 1) want to stay with San, or 2) finally move on and agree that San is just a … friend with too many benefits. You have to convince yourself you’re not in love with San. You can’t be in love with San. Disregarding of how curious you are in meeting him here.

“Ticket,” the control-man orders around the people in front of you and you get out your phone out of your tiny bag for the ticket, when you see that Seonghwa has already messaged you.

Seonghwa (San’s roomie): I’ll be waiting at the bar for you by the way Seonghwa (San’s roomie): You have to walk up the stairs on the left when you enter Seonghwa (San's roomie): Excited to see you ;)

You have been guessing already that something was going to break tonight, but it might as well be those stairs Seonghwa is talking about. From the amount of people that are still waiting behind you, you hope that they’re not all trying to go the bar.

“Ticket, please,” the control-man repeats, but strangely enough, his tone is a bit friendlier to you for some reason. “Here you go,” you duplicate his kindliness and he nods, dropping his smile as soon as he moves on to the next guess. Strange.

You eye the buff guy, but the impatient crowd pushes you into the square door. In you go.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP!”

Harsh red lights, laser and smoke hit your senses. (Though you can only be so sure that the last part is planned for the show-experience.)

Maybe you underestimated the capabilities of a warehouse. It’s still not what you thought of when you heard "club", but it surely still gets your party-mind going. Ignoring the grimy looking walls that seem to crumble with every beat that’s drumming inside your ears, the pungent smell of cheap-ass perfume, artificial sweeteners and alcoholic beverages strike into your nose, blurring your sight for a short moment. There are no windows in this hell-hole, but that’s the concern for another hour.

This is only the beginning. So, let’s focus.

Left, stairs, go up, there’s the bar Seonghwa was messaging you about. It surprises you that you’re not being swarmed by more people trying to get drinks, but it makes sense, since so many of them have already drunk outside or taken other substances to get themselves prepared for the night.

Suprisingly, the stairs are actually kind of durable. You can physically feel the bass run through your veins as you grab the handrail, but maybe that’s just because of the cold metal. Nothing to worry about here, you exhale and make your way up.

Lastly, and most importantly, look at you, you’re smiling. The euphoria these people are screaming out is down-right infectious. Their daft, hypnotic cries are calling out to you on the dance floor, but you’re going to be there sooner or later, with the man that brought you here in the first place.

“Hey, Seonghwa.”

“Hey, Y/N, you—“

He was sitting on a barstool, admiring the flashing lights all throughout the warehouse through his sunglasses, when you put your hand on his barely clothed shoulder and make him turn around.

“Holy shit, Y/N.”

You grin. Of course Seonghwa wouldn’t disappoint with his reaction. He rips the sunglasses from his face immediately, gets up from his seat and embraces you with one arm, not daring to let one eye sway away from you, his tongue pushed to the surface of his mouth, as he suppresses his gleeful grin. He looks star-struck, the supernatural-looking lights surrounding him are only emphasising this sight.

“Where have you been hiding that?”, he asks, commenting on your body as respectfully as he can. You know he can’t handle a lot of alcohol, so his marvel must be double the truth, right? Seonghwa isn’t a liar.

“I’ve not been hiding anything,” you scoff and Seonghwa laughs nervously.

“Y/N, you look… absolutely fantastic.”

“You don’t look to shabby yourself, Seonghwa,” you smile and muster the charcoal-haired man from bottom to top. It’s very out-of the ordinary, but honestly, you should have expected something like this after he invited you here. It goes without saying, you could have served him the same reaction to his outfit. The man who was wearing sportswear? He’s now wearing a black, nylon, baggy pant, with a distressed knitted top that barely serves as an excuse for clothing as it is not covering any of his body parts correctly— and even if you’d already gushed about his athletic figure this morning, you have not expected to be seeing Seonghwa’s abs and breast this exposed so early tonight. There is jewellery all around his outfit, just dangling from the fabric, but also his ear and hands, spiky and shiny, almost hazardous looking.

Damn, either you haven’t seen Seonghwa enough or this dude has been hiding more from you than you could account for. He looks as fashionable as much as he looks demonic, ready to sin with you, and that is the biggest compliment of the night.

“Thank you, I knew you’d like it.”

“Really? Me?”, you laugh, getting your hair out of your face, tugging it behind your ear.

“You have a strange taste,” Seonghwa smirks and while you puzzle together what he means, he signs something to the bartender with his ringed fingers.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m ordering us shots. Keeping my first promise.”

“With sign-language?”

Seonghwa smirks and sits down again, you following him to the same.

"I'm a friend of Mingi's, they know me around, that's all."

"Y'all are weird."

“That’s just our ways here.”

“Your ways? You sound like some pretentious club-kid,” you nag.

“What if I am, huh? Are you gonna leave, if I was?”, Seonghwa teases and is served a tray of four shots, coloured a dangerously unnatural purple colour. He slides a 10-dollar bill onto the counter and the bar-keeper takes it with no words spoken out loud, which gives Seonghwa the time to devote all his attention to you. It’s flattering how astounded he is by you, as if he hasn’t seen you pretty ever in his life. But then again, you can only do so much styling and make-up when San calls you at 10 PM, asking you to “hurry”.

“We’ll see how the night progresses,” you smirk, and grab the first shot. Seonghwa also takes one and slightly raises the small cup.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

Sweet — the taste of the shot.

All types of fruits and harsh, cheap liquour plunge into your mouth and melt on your tongue. It’s going to make your head hurt the next day, one hundred percent, but maybe it will be Seonghwa to get you some pills to soothe the ache.

… If he wasn’t San’s god-damned roommate.

Or he could stay at your home. It’s been a while since another man than him has slept in your bed, and maybe it’s long overdue.

“Let’s hurry up, I wanna dance with you,” you gulp down the sugary liquid and Seonghwa chuckles.

“We’ve got enough time, Y/N. Let’s savour this one together.”

Sweet — The spark in his eyes, his flawless skin, perfectly plump lips— holy fucking shit. Seonghwa is fucking breathtaking.

“Y/N?”, Seonghwa asks and you see that he’s already moved on to the second shot, waiting for you to move on.

“I didn’t know you had that kind of sexy stare in you,” your alcohol blurts out for you and in the meanwhile, you grab the next shot glass.

“Sexy stare?”, Seonghwa asks and grins.

“Screw you! You know what I’m talking about,” you hiss and show him your tongue to offend him, but Seonghwa just tilts his head, raising the glass to your face.

“Loveshot?”, he asks and for a moment, you don’t know whether he’s joking or not. Maybe you’re just feeling weird because a male has said the word “love” in your proximity. (The only man in your life who's a candidate in hearing that word avoids it like a disease.)

“Only if you mean it,” you purr seductively, lick your lips, and praise to fucking god he’s taking the hint. Seonghwa leans in and crosses your arms around, the cold rim of his drink suddenly resting at your lip.

“That’s not how loveshots work,” you notify, but you still mirror him and place your glass under his lips.

“Do you care?”

“No.”

Seonghwa chuckles and with one movement of his hand, the second shot is flowing down your oesophagus. It’s cold, starkly contrasting the humid conditions in the warehouse, but it’s just enough to get your senses rolling again.

You don’t even care that you made Seonghwa miss half the drink, his alcohol tolerance will give him just the right kick from the first shot. Also he doesn’t protest at all, when you hop from your seat to finally get the evening going.

“Let’s go now!”, you order him around and he gladly obeys. “Lead the way,” he says, putting his hands on your shoulder, which he hopefully won't be able to keep there for long, as you both strut down the stairs and into the crowd.

The massive crowd is crazy, and it’s ever-growing.

“What is this place?”, you ask Seonghwa, as he’s being pushed against your back by the people on the way to the dancefloor and Seonghwa has the perfect opportunity to grab you by your hips to not lose you, but frustatingly enough, he doesn’t. His hands leave your shoulders and Seonghwa just tries to manoeuvre to you.

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” Seonghwa answers honestly and you look for a free place to roam and dance. People are trying to get as close to the DJ as possible, but once those are gone, there’s actually some space you can use— you just have to get there.

“You come here often?”, you ask, leaning backwards for your voice to hit his skin. You'll be hoarse by the end of the night.

“I’ve only went twice. San went to every single set of Mingi, though!”

“Really? San goes here frequently?”

“Yeah! Does that shock you?”

“Of course it does.” You stop, turn around and Seonghwa’s hands stay in place in his pants, as you talk to him. “This, all of this, doesn’t seem like San at all.”

“Hmm, I know what you’re getting at. But that’s just our boy, eh?”

You stare into his eyes and search for some type of playfulness, but Seonghwa means his words. This is where San roams— is roaming right now, maybe— and it, all of it, just fucking confuses you. This is not the "party" you would have expected to see that man in, and if that wasn't bad enough, he's apparently a regular. You hope you’re not pushing some kind of innocent image onto him, but despite the alcohol that's heating up your cheeks and making you dumber every talking second, you’re seriously puzzled. That he’s never invited you is questionable already, but is “that San for you”? You don't know.

Wiggling your hips, you try to retrace history to the very moment you had met shy little San at the seminar, up until now, where he’s grown three times his size and you feel like he's some type of fucking mystery that is impossible for you to solve. Nerd? Hopeless romantic? Hard to get? Playboy? San may act like he’s open-minded, but he’s the most secretive guy you’ve seen. Not like Seonghwa, who, mind you, is still looking at you with the most intense fuck-me eyes, that it’s actually eating you up.

“Let’s stop talking about San.”

“Why?”, Seonghwa asks, obliviously, eyes turning back to normal.

“Because it’s us here! You and I, Seonghwa and Y/N. If they drank a loveshot together, they should act like it, don't ya think, huh?” you grunt, already slurring your words. You start to move your body according to the heavy beat, tits jerking out to the front, arms waving like they have a life on their own. Seonghwa smiles and accordingly begins to step his feet where yours aren’t; your bodies are annoyingly close, but still not touching at all.

“How do you mean that, Y/N?”, he asks and you slap his revealed shoulder with the back of your hand to stop his teasing. “I thought you wanted to show me your dancing, Seonghwa!”, you whine and he laughs at your comment.

But Seonghwa doesn’t say anything after that, which gets on your nerves even more and in response, you turn your body slightly away while swaying your hips from side to side.

“You know what you said,” you hiss and he probably can’t hear you because the DJ is transitioning to a track with even more bass penetrating your ears.

You scurry your body to the beat and catch the gaze of someone in the crowd, who’s noticed you for the same reasons Seonghwa can’t keep his eyes away from you. The stranger is drilling his gaze up and down your chiselled body, licking his lips. Feeling playful, you make a suggestive expression towards him in return of the attention, winking at him. The male immediately makes his way to you.

"You do molly?”, he asks into your ear and you see that he’s got two skittles with cartoonish hearts and smileys drawn on them. That’s Adam. You never did him before, but you surely have heard of him, your friends have had him, your friends have loved him, your friends had painful break-ups with him. Merciless adam, MDMA.

You look back at Seonghwa who’s still dancing next to you, acting like he's not watching this whole situation go down, putting on his sunglasses again, and pushing it up his nose bridge. It sucks. His skin under the top is teasing you to look at it, and it feels so unusual to be longing for him, like you can't comprehend he's not... the other one.

So, though you do hesitate for a short second, you take two of the heart-painted ones and smile at the stranger, who sounds rotten from inside out, voice raspy and hoarse.

“Are you alone?”, he asks into your ear and while you think of answer, you muster Seonghwa, whose eyes you cannot track anymore, since the black cubic shades are hiding his prettiest possession. Is he still looking at you? Watching the sky? Who knows. Only he knows.

“Maybe?”, you answer and rotate your head to the stranger’s direction. You don’t care for this man, not at all, but what you do care for is Seonghwa’s reaction. Bouncing your ass up and down against the stranger's baggy jeans like the grand girl you are, he gets his hand at your waist and tries to pull you over his place, but, there he is, Seonghwa to come save the night.

“Fuck off, she's taken.”

He pushes the male away with his elbow and the grip immediately loosens up. “Hey, hey, dude, don’t hit me. Sorry, dude.” Seonghwa is visibly taller than him, and apparently that’s enough for the poor guy to get intimidated by his sunglassed face and disappear into the crowd with quick feet.

“YOU WANNA PLAY?”, the artificially deepened voice echoes through the warehouse and you stare into what you can make out from Seonghwa’s eyes with an earnest frown. You’ve felt unnecessarily angsty and frustrated the whole day since you saw that message on San’s phone, and this is the guy who’s going to hold responsibility for it, better with his whole fucking devotion now.

“What was that?”, you tease Seonghwa, who’s finally getting his hands out of his pockets and pulling you closer to him by your wrist. You can’t exactly read his expression since he’s covered his face still, but that actually makes it feel a lot better. There's something off about him, like Seonghwa is a stranger, like you’re not doing it for him, but rather… yourself. You're doing this because it makes you feel good, not the other way around. That's empowering.

“Whatever you want it to be, Y/N.”

“Stop tip-toeing around it! Are you going to fuck me or not? ‘Cause there’s more of those guys everywhere here,” your alcohol spits again and Seonghwa pants.

“Well, shit,” he laughs and finally glides into your waist with his arms. “That was direct.”

“I can flirt with you, but not under these fucking conditions,” you growl, intoxicated, recycling gritty air in your lungs, moving your sticky body to the beat and occasionally grinding against Seonghwa’s lower body with your legs from the front. "I can flirt and fuck you," he hums and frames his hands around your hips, connecting himself to you.

“Do you do molly, Seonghwa?”, you grin, the two pills waiting to be popped in inside your hand.

Seonghwa takes a look at the capsules, and you wait for his answer, as he appears to investigate them. Does he know what he's looking for? Apparently yes, as he pushes up his sunglasses and rubs the corners of his lips with two of his fingers, “Gimme.”

He picks it up from your flattened hand, and you would’ve loved to share it like a love-shot again, but before you could request it, Seonghwa has gulped it down. Not his first rodeo, you assume, and follow his suit.

Good thing that your throat hasn't dried out yet and the pill glides down your throat with your saliva. It's not going to take long until the jubilation of the alcohol you've consumed meets the ecstatic effect of molly, and you bite your lip with a grin. "Never thought I'd be doing drugs with you, Seonghwa," you purr and Seonghwa shrugs with a huff, “I thought you’d never even consider it.” Seonghwa exhales in the heat of it all, pulling you closer.

“What? Because of San?”

“Of course because of San,” Seonghwa cackles and puts his pointy chin in between the space of your collarbone and neck, so that his voice is hitting the spot of your hickey. “You know he’s here somewhere, right?”

“Yeah, but the probability that we’ll see him is like zero, so that’s not my concern.”

“You’d be concerned if he saw us, though?”, Seonghwa asks, loose-tongued, murmuring against your neck. He’s definitely fully gotten drunk, his body heavily weighing into yours, as he gets one arm up and around your head; his hand is tangled into your scalp without a caution of messing up your hairstyle. You finding out what the molly will do to him is only a matter of time.

“Are you asking if I’m committed to him?”

Seonghwa licks his lips, “accidentally” getting your skin with his tongue. It takes you aback a bit and you whine, your eyes dozing off for a short moment. You can still taste the remains of the shot at the back of your cheeks and it's the only thing you can sense correctly. Everything else is either fogged or slowly disappearing, or becoming even harsher like the red laser lights that you fear are going to pierce through you.

“No, I’m not asking whether you’re committed,” Seonghwa answers, leaning into your skin even more, “I know you guys aren’t in a relationship. Or, you know, at least he isn’t committed.”

“WANNA GET NASTY?”

It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. Even when you’re feeling very seduced because he is trying to get the same moaning reaction out of you by licking your sensitive spot and it’s working, you don’t want to be reminded that San doesn’t care for you as much as you do for him. Sure, that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? You’re not the one living in the same space as San, Seonghwa is.

“Huh? Does he sleep with a lot of women?”, you ask him out of morbid curiosity, acting tough, as Seonghwa works deeper into your neck, getting the skin to soften for him.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Fuck you! Don’t protect me!”

“Ask him yourself,” he lisps, his sharp tongue grazing against your hickey, teasing your pettiness.

“I deserve to know.”

Seonghwa is the one rolling his eyes now, sighing, “You can be such an annoying brat, Y/N. How does San keep up with you?”

You try to yank your head back to show your discontent with his choice of words, but Seonghwa has you deep in his grip and puts you in place.

“You were the one who didn’t want to talk about San,” he lulls into your ear, stroking your hair to calm you down. Sure, that sounds reasonable, but still not an excuse to call you an “annoying brat”.

You take a wild guess about why Seonghwa isn’t just giving you the answer and argue, “I can still be curious, can’t I? San is not committed, you say? Why? Does he get more bitches than you?”

“He tried to get back with his ex.”

Bingo!

Wait, no. What the fuck?

“Huh, when?”, you ask, and irritatingly enough, Seonghwa has begun biting and licking into your neck at the one spot you can’t stop exhaling sweet noises for him. “Seonghwa, you better fuu-huucking answer.”

“Yesterday,” he murmurs against your skin and ding, ding, ding; things make a lot of sense now.

“No, you’re kidding,” you scoff, and push him away with all your strength. With a numbed mind, Seonghwa tumbles back and laughs, “Hey, it’s no big deal, he called you immediately after it didn’t work out.“

“Seonghwa, are you listening to yourself?”

“WANNA GET FUCKING CRAZY?”

“I’m saying it all like it happened, Y/N. San tried to win her back by inviting her to an expensive dinner, but then she flunked out right in the end, when he invited her back home. And, when he came home alone with a boner, San contacted you.”

“You're lying. Don't lie, Seonghwa, lying is a sin," your splur, but once his words have met your brain, it all just becomes chaos inside. It feels like marbles are rolling down inside your head and nothing is making sense, it’s all going nowhere and everywhere with this information. What are you supposed to feel like? Betrayed? There has never been a promise. Sad? You were going to fuck Seonghwa, you're not the most truthful, either.

“Come on, Y/N. You knew it the second San slammed you against that wall at 11 PM, didn’t you?” Seonghwa glides his thumb over your neck and grins, confirming the evidence of yesterday’s night. The roughful sucking of San could barely be covered up by concealer, and you probably sweated it away already.

“He— he said he was stressed.”

“Because of uni? Don’t lie to yourself, Y/N~”, the male purrs. Amidst of it all, Seonghwa is strangely still moving his body calculated to the beat, hitting each one of the drums with his shoulders, all while he hushes behind you to brainwash you with a whiskery voice. “It’s still San we’re talking about.”

You huff perplexedly and are too flabbergasted by his harsh words to not be affected by Seonghwa’s talking and let him hug you tightly again. He’s almost putting you into a headlock of consolation, or something that would have been great if it had been, indeed, consolation. (It is not. He’s almost choking you with his forearm and the way his hand is pushing into your scalp, nothing about this position is in any way soothing.)

“Tell me something, Seonghwa,” you gutter, since the thought has been recoiling rounds in your head forever and curiosity will always kill the cat. “… is she from his volleyball team?”

“No,” he answers and for some reason, this is a lot worse, “she isn’t, but— wait, how do you know about the girl from his volleyball team?”

You don’t answer. For the sake of your heart, you do not answer. You’re still moving, but you’re moving silently, staring into the humorously wild lasers that are teasing you just like he is.

Seonghwa gasps and cups your chin, his thumb meeting your lip, mushing the lower half of your face, trying to turn your face towards his direction, but you resist him. But who are you fooling. Seonghwa doesn't even need to see your expression to ask you, in an almost utterly disappointed whiny tone, "Nooo, Y/N, do you seriously check his phone?”

“I’m gonna punch you in your pretty fuck-face if you keep whining like that, Hwa.”

“Feisty and flattering, and a new nickname too! It must be my birthday,” Seonghwa chuckles and suddenly begins to nibble your earlobe, warm breath from his nose hitting the skin as he pants throughout his dancing. The alcohol is boiling inside you, being churned by the molly, and the crushing disillusionment is slowly into flaming, enraging, hateful desire. It has all gotta go somewhere, and for now, all you can do it talk with this scorching tone that is only going to turn into even more fuming, “How long has San been pining for his fucking ex?”

“For as long as I can remember," Seonghwa answers, seemingly not aware of the severity of this situation, "Middle of the second semester? Exam-season?”

“Nooo,” you scoff and can’t believe what you’re hearing. You don’t even need to calculate what time Seonghwa is talking about, it is engraved deeply into your memories. The same fucking exam season, when you were seeing San every afternoon and evening. You were right fucking there. He knew— you, on the other hand, not so much.

But you should have known.

“Well, yeah,” Seonghwa grins and is running his hands low to your stomach, almost touching your pelvis to get you worked up even more.

Should have known that you weren’t supposed to fall for San.

Angel faces hide the guts of devils’, and right now, your insides are over-cooking with the question "what the fuck were you thinking?" That he’d come around? Like no man in your life has ever come around? That San was the one? No, that San was going to believe that you were the one? 'Well, yeah', he should have, because you are the fucking one. You did so much for him, you could have done so much more for him, and it frustrates you.

“What are you grinning for, you motherfucker?”, you ask, as you peek over and see that Seonghwa has lowered his sunglasses and staring into your empty eyes, searching for a sign of life. You asked, but you don't really need the answer, the picture is drawn perfectly in front of you. Seonghwa is smirking for the same reasons he’s telling you all of this; it’s pretty clear.

“I like it when you’re bossy,” he chuckles, having become more than ‘a bit cocky’ with you, “unlike San. He hates that, right? He’s so weak-hearted, how can he—“

“You’re his friend, Seonghwa,” you insist and grit your teeth, pushing up his sunglasses again with your two fingers, poking into the middle of the lens to make it greasy.

“Friends can say things about each other!”, he giggles gullibly, and scrunches his face together.

All you can say is that Seonghwa sounds and looks moronic in those square sunglasses, senseless and boozed out of his mind, but in the short moment he licks his sharp canine teeth, you suppose that this is exactly how you need him to be.

“You listen to everything, don’t you?”, you ask him, giving into his touch, pushing your back profile so close to him, that there is no touchable space left between you two. Ass pressed against his pelvic area, you breathe heavily into his face that’s glued to your temple. “Every single night I come over to fuck your roommate?”

“Noise-cancelling can only do so much, and your sound is addicting,” Seonghwa pouts— babbling his truths like it’s water falling out of his mouth— and when you see his pink lip shine under the flashing lights, your mind disorients. He is still the pretty boy that says pretty words, even when he's probably faking all of it; he is getting your insides all fuzzy, and you are still being lured in by him, but not for the reasons Seonghwa would enjoy them to.

You’re chasing the feeling of his comfort and you know it. You’re chasing after the man that won’t leave you alone. Or no, you are alone— so fucking lonely because of him even— but you don’t want to be alone, you don’t want him to leave you alone.

San.

Fuck. San.

The feeling of drowning in San’s praise, in his words, inside his bedroom, muffled by his sheets, it hunts you, it makes you feel watched, and it makes you feel like you’re hungry for something you can’t digest. Every word he has said to you is written in your memories in special font, and even though he is out of sight, San will always stay in your mind. Does he do it on purpose? Leave marks, with both words and his lips? To profit off of your yearning? To make himself feel better? To own something? To feel proud? Does he say it that loud on purpose, too? To make his roommate hear him? To make his roommate feel bad in order to feel good?

Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe San doesn't know Seonghwa is listening at all, maybe he doesn't care about any of it.

"Your pretty sounds," Seonghwa repeats himself, his face pressed against your cheek and you roll your eyes at his lips grazing your skin, his heavy breath from his nose warming it up.

These two men are woven by the same needle, knitted with the same material for they say surprisingly similar things and act surprisingly same, but for some reason, it does not feel the same. It is not the same. It should be the same. It should be the fucking same, fuck! You’re going to explode. The way that your head is spinning, your hips swinging, music ringing— people screeching, feet stomping— everything is happening around and inside you. Head, shoulders, knees and toes, livid. Brain, guts, uterus, livid. Let’s not talk about your heart or else we have to start over again. Just forget about your heart and think about the things that are of use tonight. What can you focus on? You can focus on your body glowing hot, but you could also focus on Seonghwa, whose baggy pants is rubbing against your thin minidress. It’s Seonghwa that you wanted, right? Or was it Seonghwa you were supposed to want, because he is the one that wants you back? — No, fuck, let's re-roll, quickly; Seonghwa is grinding against you right now, from behind, and that's exactly what you imagined, wasn't it? Under these lights, under this influence, this is what you wanted, wasn't it?

With the state of your mind, you can not agree with anything; your thoughts sound foreign and it's not your voice speaking, when you grind your ass back. It also doesn't feel like it's your eyes that you're seeing with; Seonghwa’s smile behind of you is becoming blurry and there’s just one more face that’s slowly appearing from the front-ends of your head. There’s a catch though; what you’re seeing is not the soft face you usually cup with your delicate hands and observe in awe when he sleeps, it’s not the face that lights up when he sees you enter through his front door, it's a face that's reading a text message from his fucking ex in the morning and immediately forgets that you're next to him, available as available can be.

It is actually going to make you puke, right here and there. All your emotions, all your ambitions, all of your fucking dreams. Who is San to you? What is he? You’ve known him for what, a year? — Okay fuck, that’s actually more than you thought, but still, it’s not like San and you have met up in any way that wasn’t purely sexual during all the time you knew him. Know him. You don’t know San. You don’t know shit about him. What are you— San and you? What are you going to be? Boyfriend, girlfriend? Has a nice ring to it, but fuck no, right? There are too many girls, right? Which is why you wanted to get yourself another man too, right?

“Come on, Y/N, forget him.”

While you have alcohol and molly inside you, singing two different songs of lust and desire, Seonghwa is moving his legs according to yours and pressing himself more against you. He’s one sadistic dipshit if Seonghwa thinks you could forget any of what you just went through just by moaning into your ear, but you're going with it.

You can't feel a lot right now, except that Seonghwa’s bulge perfectly fits in the space of your ass, rubbing up and down between the two circular shapes, getting himself more erected with every passing beat.

This whole situation is so fucked up and messy.

But, add one more: You are fucked up and messy. The music is building up loudly and people are shaking their bodies next to you, dancing in the high they've reached long time ago, eyes having lost any sign of concentration or sobriety, and you came here to contemplate whether you’re going to have a one-night-stand to prove a point, mixing drugs to get it on faster. You feel quicker, no, you are quick, rushing from one thought to another like you’re fleeing from your inner voices, both the devil and angel. They’re useless in this situation, they have too much reason.

And you don't need any reasons to think you're in the right to fuck him. Seonghwa’s hands are on your abdomen and gently massaging the skin, making you feel like he thinks you’re valuable, but you both know that this dance you’re holding right now barely cost you anything but 10 dollars in cash.

The red lasers haven’t stopped. They are pointing upwards or downwards for you, but you guess, from the way you’re watching Seonghwa’s lips right now, there’s only one way down. There has always been only one way down.

San chooses an ex over you? Then you’ll choose his dumb fucking roommate over him. Two can play this game, and even if he’s had the lead, you’re going to make your play. Is it going to hurt him? You don’t know. Maybe it won’t. But at least it will be over, right? At least this fucking thing will be over.

“Kiss me, Seonghwa.”

“You serious? I thought San was all up your mind right now.”

“Oh my fucking god, just do it before I take it back.”

“LET’S GET FUCKING INSANE”

Seonghwa doesn’t let you ask twice. While people all around you are turning up to the beat-drop, he pulls your chin up and clashes his lips against yours. His teeth clank against you lip and there's a short, piercing pain there, but Seonghwa's high chuckle blows it away. It’s a violent kiss, but mind-numbing enough so maybe you can forget why you decided to kiss him in the first place. While your lips are working against each other, his hand is sliding down to your groin and it's dangerously close to the seam of your tiny dress. One tug and your whole leg is revealed to the crowd, but you don't look down to see how naked Seonghwa is making you; all you see is yourself, in the reflection of his square sunglasses.

His tongue is electrifying, when it forces its entry into your mouth. It’s long and tastes deliciously foreign- a mixture of alcohol and tobacco, which you haven't experienced in pair since a long time. San, no, “he” (this is what you’ll call him now) doesn’t smoke, which at first, you considered as a big win, because you were passively inhaling all the smoke from your prior flings that you’d had the feeling your lungs were being polluted. Yet a year later, you’re clean— cleaner than never before, you should be able to breathe, you should be able to think clearly, but you can’t. Did you think he was pure? Was it that? That he was this untouched man? Maybe he was. Maybe he was, when he was still a nerd who had never heard a woman say the word “sex” in his— or had he? Fuck, had he? You don’t know, you couldn’t have known. ‘He’ was a façade, wasn’t it? He turned into another person immediately, didn’t he?

Let's get back on Seonghwa’s lips.

You're reminded of your lost freedom and as much it drives you insane, it's driving you into a state of pure, adventurous lust. The way Seonghwa works across your slick tongue is animalistic and wild, and you feel like you’re being pursued with no escape. To catch your breaths a little bit, Seonghwa lets go off your chin and thigh, turning you around so he can have better access to your mouth. Not letting the enlivening music go to waste, he presses his lips on yours the second you inhaled for the second time.

You slip your hands under his knitted top, running them up and down his breast, his abs and abdomen to feel his muscles and skin. It’s only a matter of time until he asks you to move off the dance floor, but your alcohol is bombarding you with sweet suggestions you can’t let pass without saying. His exposed skin feels cold under your fingers, but when you cup his hardened erection through the fabric with your hand and move it according to Seonghwa’s tongue slicking against yours, he radiates heat.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa pants into the kiss and you hum, continuing to tease him on this godless dance floor. Nobody has their senses right and is observing you two making out with dozy eyes, nobody cares about anything here. There’s only right now, the song the DJ is playing for the mindless crowd of drugged, intoxicated people. Let’s get insane.

You try to get a good feel of Seonghwa’s cock and its girth with your hand. “You’re big,” you murmur, catching air again, “smaller than San though.”

And there you have it, men are so easy to galvanize.

“Say that again, you fucking cunt,” Seonghwa growls and digs his fingers into your ass, eyebrows pulled down so hard that his forehead could explode.

“Why? ‘Cause you’re better than him?”, you taunt him and click with your tongue, catching a breath. “You’re no better than Sannie,” you sneer, pointing at your hickey with your finger to remind him (but mostly yourself), “don’t think you could be.”

Seonghwa goes fucking angry. Apparently he thinks he’s done so much for you, has been so nice to you, has helped you, whatever, and this is how you show him your thanks. Grabbing your hair, he pushes his forehead against yours and you catch a glimpse of his darkened eyes, feeling the stinging pain from the impact linger, while he talks. His breath is scarce from having kissed you, so he’s trying his best to use his voice to taunt you.

"San is probably fucking his fucking ex-girlfriend right now, do you think you're any better than him, huh, slut? You are the one who's so fucking desperate to get him to love you, and you're still here with me, and you're kissing me, so we're both in the wrong, you fucking whore."

His words don’t mean anything to you, visiting the synapses of your brain, but leaving right after. You just grin with your eyelids covering half of your eye and Seonghwa realizes nothing is arriving inside your sweet, broken mind. Your cheeks are red from the lack of oxygen, drugs and you’re flushed at the cause of his libidinous touch, and Seonghwa sees he's been working around your hair a little bit too much, having ruffled it up to the point that a comb-through will not amount to a lot. You look like a crazy person to him, but nothing attracts a joke more than a hard-hitting punchline.

“We're both single,” is what you lull to correct him, licking over your lips that you can't feel anymore since Seonghwa has kissed them numb. "And I think that's all that matters."

You both hear the music come to an exhilarating high and slowly reach your evaporating point.

“You sound like San,” Seonghwa giggles and he probably thinks it's going to push you over, but it doesn't. He’s still staring into you like he’s searching for a weak spot, but you’re persistent, you’re needy, and while you are weak, you are unforgivably yourself, Y/N.

You smash both your hands on each of his cheeks and you look at yourself through the sunglasses, sneering, "Good. San is a better name to moan."

He scoffs and smiles so condescendingly sweet again, but out of his mouth comes nothing worthwhile. "I'm going to fuck your voice out of your fucking throat, you're never going to moan ‘San’ ever fucking again," he growls and you drench yourself in his vulgarity, kissing him repeatedly.

"Never again," Seonghwa repeats himself, digging his thumbs into your ribs, but his tone isn't as forcing as it is... begging. Asking—demanding you to put all your attention on him, like he knows your heart isn't his and he desperately wants to possess yours. Oh, he definitely knows. You're not fooling anybody, at least didn't try to, but Seonghwa is gullible enough to fall for your tricks, how it seems like. San is painted on your body all the while your dance partner is speaking through his heavy breathing; painted on your neck, in your eyes, it’s annoying Seonghwa, it distracts him, it makes him see red, and not the colour on your skin.

"Awww, do you want me to only moan your name tonight?", you baby Seonghwa, mocking that he's finally revealed his motivations behind all of this. At least you think you've hit the nail in the coffin, when you pout to mirror Seonghwa’s expression.

Seonghwa's greatest sin isn't lust, it's envy. It could be any girl coming and leaving their dorm, moaning San’s name through the thin walls, never to be seen again and he wouldn't bat a second eye, but you— Y/N? San letting a woman like you go without further notice sickens him, like a crime, like a mistake. To hear your voice be pleasured by San at night, and then hear you sing good-bye to the man who does not care as much as he does in the morning, that has sent Seonghwa into a spiral of jealousy, but you’re not sure why. Some fucked-up reason probably, though it doesn’t seem like an ex is the cause this time. Maybe it’s really just because of you.

Sorry to say that you don’t care about that though. Not one single fucking bit. You don't want any of that complex trauma-talk tonight. You want to have sex and forget the sex right after.

"Be mine tonight, Y/N," Seonghwa answers and his eyebrows are pushed in to his forehead. He looks sultry, at least the parts you can see. Sultry, passionate, ready to fuck you, no, desperate to fuck you, in fact, you can feel the pre-cum soak his pants, when you cup his girth.

“You’re so pathetic,” you smirk, “it might actually be worth a try.” Seonghwa lets out a breathy exhale, finally breaking. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the molly, or his issues that suddenly took over his conscience, but he doesn’t have any of that left. He grabs you by your wrist with a grip that leaves a white mark, and without forewarning, Seonghwa yanks you through the people.

You hit each and every one of the strangers on your way to wherever. Shoulder hitting against shoulder, breast against breast, it better not leave any more bruising that you already have on your neck. “Seong- wha!”, you wheeze, tumbling at his force, tripping over your own feet over and over. The hall is huge, and he’s seemingly seeking to get to the very end of it.

“Seonghwa!”, you repeat yourself, but he won't listen to you. You're being pulled into a rollercoaster of anything but emotions (at least for you) and you can hear laughter leave your mouth without reason as you pass by irritated people who find it impolite to be barging into the big crowd like this. This dude's crazy, they scorn, but they don't really look that lucid as well, you find, with the last bits of thinking you can do.

"Where are we going?", you ask, but mostly to reassure that you still have a sense for geographical knowledge. You can see the bar again, mobs of people dancing on the stairs so that it's shaking even more compared to how you two had left it, but most importantly, you see that this is a space that's occupied by your kind. So much skin. So many slutty outfits. Outfits? Lingerie. This side looks like a fucking strip-club. Are you at a strip-club? What the fuck is this place? No, seriously, what the fuck is this place?

Seonghwa is finally stopping and you catch a breath from the running. With him doing his weird hand-signs again, you recognize the security guard from the beginning, smiling under his sunglasses, showing an "OK"-sign and pointing to the back of the stairs. You could swear he winked at you.

"What the fuck?", you ask, but Seonghwa only shrugs, making you follow his backwards steps under the stairs, where in black graffiti 'MY PEOPLE DONT BELIEVE IN LOVE' is smeared all over the wall. The same walls are occupied by couples or at least people making out wildly with their eyeliners smeared beyond repair. Is this some sex-area? (No idea) Is this legal? (100% no) Does Seonghwa look so fucking hot without his top on? (Fuck) He does.

Your eyes go cross-eyed, when Seonghwa enters the most mirrored bathroom you've ever seen in a warehouse, but before you can question the fact why people invest in decorating a fucking porta-potty, the male is pulling off his knitted top with one smooth pull, barely waiting a second for you to close the door behind you. The vibrations of the music ring on the metal stairs over you, and you feel like the beat is mushing your brain one size smaller, when you're met by Seonghwa barging at your body.

Pushing you against the plastic door, you feel all of Seonghwa's naked torso with your hands stroking roughly over his skin, and you admire his jewellery sitting on his collarbones, getting your fingers at it around his neck to pull him closer. "You like my necklace?", Seonghwa murmurs, as he pushes his lips into the crook of your neck.

"Choke on it," you gutter and yank him upwards, kissing him. While you do so and Seonghwa begins to unclothe you by getting your arms up, you catch a glimpse of yourself through the mirror. Your hair isn't looking as silky as it did when you left your home, there's mascara smudged around your eye already, but if you're not mistaken, and you can see it by how Seonghwa is sucking your nipples the second your bra falls to the floor, you will look worse in no time.

But that's not to say that you aren't still looking gorgeous. You look bewitchingly sexy, eyelids fluttering with each of Seonghwa's eager touches that are tracing down your body. "Fuck, you look so good," he murmurs and he's trying to keep his eyes open in order to see you. He's gotten you naked pretty quick considering the circumstance, you would've wished for a bit more foreplay here, but maybe it's a reoccuring theme to be impatient.

"You are such a fucking gorgeous girl, San doesn't know what he's missing right now," Seonghwa wheezes and goes through his hair, once he has your dress dropping on the dirty floor, revealing your joke of underwear. If he had kept your bra, he would have seen that you've worn a matching set of burgundy lingerie, but Seonghwa's mouth is still drooling at your pair of perfect thighs, his hand stroking over his lips. You roll your eyes at him and lean your head against the plastic door. You've done such a good job forgetting his name, and here's this dumbass mentioning him again. "You bet your ass he's missing this, huh?", you snarl and play with your own breast with one hand, while the other is cupping Seonghwa's rib, gliding down to his v-line, where his throbbing cock is awaiting you.

"He doesn't deserve you, Y/N."

He wheezes again. It seems like Seonghwa is taking his last breaths, unable to form words since your fingers are exploring how quick they can get to his erection.

"And you do?", you snap back and scoff. He pushes his glasses up to his forehead and for the first time since a long time, you can see Seonghwa's eyes shimmer. Oh fuck, you think, and it's difficult to not kiss him again. You're a bitch. You know you're a bitch for not caring about his feelings, and you know you will indeed not be better than San if you ghost this man right after this evening, but it must be done. For your sake, at least.

"I do," Seonghwa answers, though a lot weaker and less confident than he used to be before. You sigh. He may think he deserves you, but you don't deserve him. His gaze is too sweet, you've got to put those sunglasses back on, if you don't want to develop something. The only thing you can look at to get your mind elsewhere is yourself, in the mirror.

"Don't try to prove yourself," you murmur and Seonghwa wraps his arms around your back and props you by your thigh to lift you up. You can see his back muscle tense up, as he has you steadily in his grip. "I'm not," he answers and there's something that's fluttering inside your breast, when Seonghwa licks up your jawline, because you feel everything; From how wet his tongue is, how warm his saliva sits on your skin to the way what an adoring look Seonghwa is wearing on his face, as he kisses you. "I got nothing to prove to you."

You smirk and see yourself looking very dozy, drunken on alcohol, drugged by MDMA, ducked by Seonghwa's hand between your legs. It's pushing between your folds and with your last bit of control you have over your body, you spread your legs for him, inviting him to get his fingers inside your panties, and of course he does.

With a grin, Seonghwa devotes his tongue to your jaw again and works it into your skin with circular motion. "So fucking wet, and I thought you didn't want to fuck me."

"Who said I wasn't going to fuck you?"

Seonghwa is too busy sucking on the other side of your neck (other side meaning the side that is still unhickey-ed) to answer, but you're persistent. You came to this place to fuck him, and you're pretty sure that nothing from what you told him tonight alluded to something else. And also, even when you're fucked out of your mind, you still have a sense for people who keep secrets. So while Seonghwa is sucking small patches of skin on your neck and you see yourself with an opened mouth with sighs leaving it that you can't hear with your own ears.

"San says things sometimes," Seonghwa murmurs and continues to plant roses on your neck that you can see appear on your skin, "but that's irrelevant now."

"What does he say?", you insist, but the charcoal-haired man puts on his sunglasses again and shakes his head. Switch. As if you hadn't had enough from men who were two-faced, Seonghwa hides his eyes, turning into an inscrutable being again. A stranger. A stranger who's groping your cunt from the front, making your groin tense up and push him closer from the back. You're wrapping him with your legs and holding onto him tightly, when he catches a breath.

"Meaningless things,” he pants and throws you over the door, your arms landing on the frail sink in front of you. The mirror expands and all of the sudden you see yourself in full quality, in all your glory and Seonghwa is only supporting you from the back. His hand is grabbing your chin and pushing it up to the mirror, his pointing finger smudging your lip. With your lips slightly opened, it just makes sense to you to lick around his finger and look at him with a demanding look, eyebrows sultrily pushed together.

"Fuck, Y/N," Seonghwa gulps and cups your breast from behind, massaging it, while he presses his hot lips on your back. "Can I eat you out? Please,” he sighs and you take his finger in, lubing it up with your saliva.

"Do whatever you fucking want," you sneer and balance yourself with two hands on the sink, as Seonghwa raises a leg and throws it over his shoulder, his pretty face planted into your pussy the second you've given him permission to. You spasm to the front, Seonghwa's hair tickling your lower abdomen, as he works his tongue over your slick folds. If his tongue was great for kissing, it's certainly great for cunnilingus too, no, maybe even better suited for it. He's reaching spots that haven't been reached by a tongue in a long time and with the wet muscle working in and out inside you, you're becoming a moaning mess with fluttering eyelids in no time.

"Fuuuck", you gasp, when Seonghwa kneads your ass that's extended out in the air. The sound of his slurping and the music outside assimilate and mix up, and if it wasn't for the hightened senses you got from your molly-influence, it feels like everything is hammering you down from the outside. You can feel each twitch of Seonghwa's mouth, how he smiles, how he's yelping for air, how he's licking over his lips — you're going to fall somewhere, and if it's not into the cheap sink and the mirror that's taunting you, it's in love with his tongue that’s going to make you cum.

"So soon?", Seonghwa murmurs, and two fingers begin to penetrate your gaping hole, as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive clit.

"Fuck, fuck!", you whine and Seonghwa takes note of how your entrance is tightening around him, angling his fingers towards your g-spot. "So fucking good!", you breathe and you're trying to get a glimpse of your mirrored image in front of you, but your eyes are rolling to the back of your head too much.

"Mhm~", Seonghwa hums with an amused tone, repeating a cycle of sucking and licking, pumping against your g-spot. You're flying, the loud tunes bombarding the walls of the porta-potty are slowly getting to your head and intrusing what's left of your conscious mind, only feeling the tickling sensation that is being eaten out by none other than Park Seonghwa.

Until it stops.

You were whining, announcing your impending orgasm, but he apparently had other ideas, pulling out his fingers and removing his lips from you the second you were drawing together your body, preparing for sweet release. "Don't fucking stop!", you yell and grab Seonghwa by his hair, pushing him closer to your cunt by force. "Seonghwa!"

Seonghwa, who you don't know if he seriously just wanted to be called by his name in this situation, chuckles in witticism and wraps his arm around your thigh, getting the other leg over his shoulder too. You're sitting up front now, and there is no space for him to get his finger anywhere near your cunt, but his tongue is more than enough.

"Make me cum or I'm gonna fucking leave, you fucking asshole," you growl and grip a big chunk of his hair to get your message across. The man below you moans and resumes his job, clearly attracted by your lust-driven dominance. 'I like it when you're bossy', you re-call, and before you can finish the quote in your head, Seonghwa has plunged his tongue into your cunt.

"Ungh, fuck!", you moan, a bit more sensitive and distorted this time. Trying to hold your heavy upper body straight, Seonghwa is laving at your cunt, driving you crazy with the speed of his tongue maneuvering inside you. Maybe it was better that Seonghwa edged you, because now every flick is shooting you further into the abyss of pleasantry. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you stutter, the second wave of the overwhelming euphoria gathering itself like a tsunami.

Seonghwa is more relaxed than you are, though his whole face is busy being used to pleasure you. His nose is dug into your clit and he's shaking his head around to be able to tickle it all during the while he's cutting away his breath to pant into your heat and spreading your slick on his tastebuds.

"Make me cum," you whine, "make me cum with your tongue!"

"Say 'please Seonghwa'," Seonghwa smirks and has the tip of his tongue placed on your clitoris just enough for your orgasm to not be washed away, but definitely not coming, while you grip more of his hair.

"You fucking bitch, I'll never fucking—", you pant, but there's no other way around it. You need this orgasm. "You—"

Seonghwa looks up to you and you can see him waiting. Pushing your thighs together because he annoys you so much, you yank his head closer to your cunt and scream, "okay, fuck, make me fucking cum, Seonghwa, please!"

The man between your thighs chuckles through his nose and once you said the magic-words, he opens his mouth back open to lap around your clit and cunt like a mad dog. Having been denied your orgasm for the second time, the third attempt to chase it down hits you even more, making you breathe heavily and loudly, and this time, the strings are pulling you to total stupification.

"Please, please, please, Seonghwa, please—"

Repeating the words Seonghwa wants to hear so bad again and again, you're fuelling his decision to finally allow you to come. His tongue circles around your clit as if he was racing with the music and your face is parallel to the floor, when your body goes lax and the strands of Seonghwa's hair are the only thing keeping you up.

"Seonghwa, please," you whisper again, weak, and almost sent over the top, while Seonghwa growls under you, his tongue stroking over your sensitive bud until you're shaking and pressing your legs together. "Fuck!", you scream out and Seonghwa throws one leg away from his shoulder, your wobbly foot landing on the floor, when the male stands up and gets to fingers into your cunt.

"Seonghwa, please—", you gasp, when he rams them into your throbbing arousal that barely reached its high and you have to get your arms around his neck if your knees are still worth something to you. "Oh my fucking god," and other moans come spurred out of you and Seonghwa bites into your shoulder to add another stimulative pain to all the sensations you're feeling.

His fingers are long and slender and for all you can grasp, they know what they're doing, when they're driving in and out with no mercy. That this is Seonghwa, you don't really care, that this isn't San, you do just a little bit, but "caring" takes a bit too long in the brain anyway. If your first orgasm from his tongue made your head fly, the second one is evaporating it. Your head feels light and corrupted by the DJ screaming inaudible things into his set, an artificially deepened laughing-track following his ad-lib and your lower body is trembling like a new-born deer, when Seonghwa keeps pushing against your soft patch inside. “Stop— stop, Seonghwa—“, you pant and your legs hold Seonghwa's wrist until he wiggles it out.

"You good?", Seonghwa laughs. He walks behind you and raises your face by your chin, pressing his own cheek next to yours, so both of your faces are seen in the mirror, his pelvis pushed against your ass again.

"Uh-huh," you shudder, your runny mascara making your eyes sticky, "very good."

He smiles, though it's definitely not a friendly smile. This isn't what friends do. It never will be something that friends do and you try to find some type of sanity behind your sunken irises, but there's nothing there. There is someone knocking on the door, Seonghwa's phone is vibrating in his pants, and like the bad person you are, you can't stop to wish that behind at least one of these interruptions is a certain someone is waiting for you, asking for you or anything— fuck. It's worse Seonghwa somehow knows what you're thinking, taking out his phone with his free hand, your face still being cupped by the other.

"You think this is him, don't you?", he asks and lets his temple drop against the top of your head, "Let's bet."

"If you think I'm gonna bet on something like that," you hiss and grind your bare ass against his clothed cock to distract him from the fact he's correct, “you’re a fucker.”

"I'm gonna fuck you, so I don't know where you're coming from here."

You scoff and throw his phone into the sink, when Seonghwa seemingly opens the message and starts to grin.

"Seonghwa," and you know you're lying through your teeth here with the full awareness that Seonghwa probably knows that you’re lying as well, "I want you," and yet you have the very secure feeling that you got into his head.

"Hm, what?", he asks and looks confused, unable to be angry that you snatched his phone out of his hand. You smirk for a short time and lean into his hand that's stroking your cheek. "I want you, Seonghwa," you sigh and pout. If you can't commit, you might as well commit to the lie, right? Be a little opportunistic.

"I don't care about San," you whisper and Seonghwa pulls down his glasses, making him human again.

"Really now…”

Choi San: the connection is so bad Choi San: where are you right now?

You nod and there’s a black-tinted tear rolling down your cheek, warm and melting on your skin. Seonghwa takes his thumb and glides it over the flow and holds his hand at your cheek again.

Choi San: i saw her Choi San: wtf she looked so different

You both saw the message and you both decided to ignore it. It doesn't matter anymore, his hand was already between your legs, your arousal has already coated his fingers.

That's how this works.

His touch, caressing your woeful face, his eyes pitying your pain. He's still erected, definitely impatient, but Seonghwa has something that you haven't experienced for a long time. You don't want to think of it, you can't think of it, because it might just be an illusion, but when Seonghwa slides his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, you have to suppress the suffocating feeling that you must never see this man ever again, if you don't want to carry this burden with you. You can't tell yourself enough, you do not want Seonghwa.

But it's nice.

"Look at yourself, Y/N. Look how pretty you are."

It's nice to know that someone wants you. That someone cares to wipe away the tears from your eyes, though they're not tears formed by a sadness you’d be able to express, a sadness that encourages you to hold eye contact with yourself, as Seonghwa whispers words of comfort into your ear. "Don't cry, pretty girl," he murmurs, and it feels like the music is being subdued around you. You've fallen from grace. “You could have anything in the world..”

How nice would it be, if he was right? You’re not sad, you have everything you could, don’t you? It could be this is just another lie you're going to commit to to protect yourself, but Seonghwa is holding you by your throat, cutting your airflow. The blood curdles in your head and while the male behind you is opening up his pants, the phone blinks.

Seonghwa and you both look down. Incoming call: Choi San.

"Oh," Seonghwa exhales and immediately checks for your reaction in the mirror, but your expression is empty. The drugs are fogging your mind and there is no ounce of vitality behind your eyes.

Seonghwa turns the phone around. "Fuck me first, Seonghwa," you tell him, your voice wispy, barely understandable, he probably had to lip-read in order to understand what you were saying, "let's get it over with."

He doesn't appreciate your dismissive tone, but Seonghwa is too horny to say anything against it, pushing you over the sink, grabbing his cock and placing it near your cunt. While your abdomen is pressed against the dirty, cold surface, Seonghwa is murmuring something under his breath and gliding his hot, throbbing erection across your pulsating folds. "I don't care at all," you whine, trying to convince yourself and ignore the continuous buzzing from his phone, but also make him hurry up. There's an end-goal you're chasing here.

"Kiss me," you order the male behind you, and as he finally positions his tip at your entrance, Seonghwa tilts your head to the side, ripping your gaze away from his mobile. "You really like kissing, don't you?", he huffs and smirks, pushing himself into you in one slow thrust. "Fuuuck," you breathe, feeling your walls expand for his length, "what about it?"

"I just think it's sweet. It makes it more personal, doesn't it?"

"Come on, Hwa, are you trying to make me angry again? I'm getting tired here," you purl and visibly roll your eyes at him, your eyelids getting heavier with each word that's spoken out loud. Your body weighs into Seonghwa's arms and if he doesn't hurry up, you'll fall asleep, your pulsating cunt tightening around his girth.

"Sweetheart, let me talk," he says, in a soft voice that makes your heart drop. You don't want him, you don't want his sweetness, fuck, you only wanted Seonghwa for this one night, for his dick and dick only, why is he trying to get inside your head? Don't do it, you try to mouth to him. You don't know him, he doesn't know you, his cock is inside your cunt, this is the worst timing to—

"You're something else."

"Seonghwa, stop, before you say anything too nice. Just close your mouth, this isn't good for both of us, you already said we're bad people. You know we don't want this," you mutter and start moving your ass to somehow get his mind elsewhere, but through his whimpers and low moans, Seonghwa won't stop grunting under the influence.

"No, speak for god-damn yourself, because, shit, Y/N, I can't watch it anymore, okay? Every day and night— You come over and let yourself be played by San, that fucking asshole, and I just think—"

"Seonghwa, shut the fuck up!", you scream and you're a breath away from pulling his cock out your cunt and leave this place naked, but just when you thought you can't do it anymore, Seonghwa has gotten his hands on your hips, digging his fingernails into your skin as if he's trying to hopelessly keep you close, his pelvis clapping against your ass, as he strikes into you.

Surprised, you moan and your fingers slip against the edge of the sink, strands of your hair falling in front of your face. You weren't prepared for that kind of vigor.

"Don't you dare think I'm that pathetic," he growls and thrusts into you with force in a rhythm that is terrifyingly close to the music outside, his cock slamming against your inner wall, making your legs close up by themselves.

"I'm not thinking I could treat you better," Seonghwa huffs and gets the hair away from your face, grabbing your hair to clear up your view, "I'm thinking what a fucking cockslut you are, Y/N."

Drugs never make sad people happier. Never make broken people whole.

So even when Seonghwa makes you realize that none of the men in your life have ever taken you serious, a hoarse laugh leaves your mouth, and you tilt your head to the back to examine the traces of them on your neck. Your eyes glisten with the way you're being fucked from behind and your mouth is not closing, you've lost control over yourself a long time ago, and it's not when this long day started with you in San's bed, it's when he took off your shirt on that random night during exam season.

"You're lucky you're pretty," he grunts and you chuckle, smiling absent-minded, upper body see-sawing with Seonghwa's pelvis-movement. Your ass is slowly hurting from how hard he is driving himself in, but you're too busy looking at your neck.

Red, red, red. A little bit of purple. A big patch here, small spots over there; anyone could look at you and would know that you've been claimed by someone. Maybe even think that you're, gasp, in a relationship! They wouldn't guess it was two people to leave these hickeys, and frankly, they would be right to think you're claimed by one person only.

"San said he'd fuck me stupid," you giggle— you're fetching old memories from your mind, re-painting the colors, completing the gaps like a mandala; the same memories from the older days which you wouldn't call better, but certainly easier; from days where you didn't have to worry about a man breaking your heart.

Seonghwa scoffs and grabs you by your tit, pulling your nipple with harsh tugs, the sensitive, delicate nub being wounded by his aggressiveness. He's stopped being gentle a long time ago, leaving a big star-shaped mark on your ass by clapping the surface of his hand.

"San said I'm his whore," you reminisce, biting your teeth through the pain, and Seonghwa is speeding up his thrusting, his cock angled inside you to entirely fill out your tight space.

"San said—"

Seonghwa has had enough. He's pressing the surface of his hand onto your mouth and nose, silencing you, cutting you short of your air, your eyes rolling back, but it doesn't prevent your thoughts to continue tumbling down. Seonghwa may be jolting his hips into you like his life depends on it, and in a way, that may be true, but he'll never pleasure you like San could.

People-pleaser. San said he was a people-pleaser.

You don't remember the orgasm, you don't remember Seonghwa's loud grunt into your ear, you don't remember how much hot cum he ejaculated into you, how panicked the black-haired was, when he asked you whether you took the pill, how quickly he became sober and put his clothes back on, the speed of time seemingly passing like a rocket-ship, the music never stopping to blitz into your brain, how the porta-potty became really fucking empty, once Seonghwa left it, but what you do remember is how you took his phone that he forgot like the dumb-ass he was, and how weak your voice sounded, when you answered San's call that by some magical way, kept ringing in.

"Can you come fetch me?"

"Who is this?"

"Come fetch me, please."

"Y/N?"

And people-pleasers should do anything to keep their people happy.

Especially if they're Choi San and avoidant of conflict.

part 4: coming soon!

#ficrecs #hywwwbmpp #trhlwd #san #seonghwa #BEST FIC I READ THIS WEEK WHAT A GREAT TUESDAY

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purecantarella · 4 years ago

Text

Revamped Rhapsody

double update? who is she? HAHAHA but for real i wanted to release these two at the same time to sort of compensate for being gone for a week. i hope you all enjoy this one too! im nayeon x idol!reader disclaimer/s : i had fun writing some good good angst

Words were important to you, it was a part of your passion and your work. Language was something that you'd adored since you were younger but the premise that you always found it a little odd how words could be twisted to mean or imply different things, just on tone and situation alone.

You wouldn't know or understand it was when you were permitted to write your own songs in your company. The blend of different meanings and people made you find a deeper understanding for the words and lyrics of songs. Then when you met Im Nayeon, the only person who could fill your mind and heart with a rhythm that followed the way you fell in love with her.

It began when you met after you entered the practice room she reserved by mistake.

You tapped away at your phone, your bag hanging lazily over your shoulder as you pushed in the door of the practice room. A familiar song that wasn't yours blasted through the speakers. Your head slowly raised as you saw the eldest member of TWICE staring intently at herself as she danced. You'd watched live performances and met once or twice backstage very briefly, but it was a different sensation to see her in her zone. No cameras and no expectations.

'She has a good form...' You thought to yourself, in an awestruck daze. Just as you were about to retreat to find the right room, a sharp thud and a small squeal sliced right past the blaring music from the speakers. You hastily turned around to see the vocalist on the floor, holding her leg.

"Oh gosh, are you okay?" You asked dropping your bag and sliding to her side. When she got over the initial shock, she recognized you. Her celebrity crush. The vocalist blushed and nodded quickly. The sparkle in her eyes as she gave you her iconic bunny smile made your stomach turn in the best way. "Y-Yeah, I'm good!"

A smile graced your lips as you saw the usually confident extrovert awkwardly fidget with her fingers. "You wanna get up or is this whole floor thing a part of your routine?" You joked to which she laughed, shoving your shoulder gently.

"Oh gee thanks, jerk!" You chuckled before getting up and offering your hand to the shorter woman. Once she took it, you pulled her up slowly, making sure she wouldn't tumble over. "Is your leg okay?" Nayeon nodded quickly.

For a second, there's a silence and a pause. You two just staring at each other like you had for years. Like you knew each other in a much deeper way than just idols who shared the same company. There's a point where she thinks that you might just lean in but nothing comes of the inkling.

"Uh, well I should go. Leave you to it..." You rushed as you took your bag from the ground. Turning to face Nayeon then the door then back to Nayeon. "Uh, I'll see you around?" You asked, readjusting the strap on your shoulder.

"I'll be counting on it." You grinned as you left, the lead vocalist running through your head the entire time you were practicing for your latest comeback.

Brushing past each other in the hallway of the company building became more frequent, on some occasion you both even ate lunch together rather than with her group and your managers or other friends. You both became a little more than smitten with each other and wound up dating a couple months after you first met.

Im Nayeon became your inspiration for working hard, to build to become the person you know she deserves. Of course, she thinks you're pretty great. She was your muse, she just hadn't put all the pieces together yet.

When your latest song dropped, of course she listened to it immediately. Then as she listened to the lyrics that you wrote, the way you described the perfect girl for you, how you began to fall in love with this girl, it clicked in her head. Nayeon rushed out of the TWICE's practice room, making the girls look at her with either a smirk or a look of genuine concern.

She sprinted across the building to reach you in your practice room. As the door flung open, your body shifted to the side, immediately smiling as you saw your girlfriend. "Nayeonie, hey what's u—" She pressed her lips to yours, cutting you off in a passionate meeting much to the dismay of your managers who sat behind you both.

Jumping into your arms, you placed your hands under her thighs as you pulled away. The dopey yet confused smile on your face made her giggle again as she placed a series of kisses over your face.

"You wrote a song for me..." You smiled even wider and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Of course I did, Nayeonie..." You paused for a second before adding, "I love you."

The smile on her face mirrored your wide and bright one as she kissed you again. Deeper and overflowing with an intense amount of love. "I love you too, dummy..." She whispered against your lips.

Despite how much you loved each other though, two years into the relationship both of you became extremely busy. Busier than you'd ever been since you were breaking into the international market and as was TWICE. Coming home to each other tired and grouchy. You'd tried to push it further but with one last fight after a long day of taking orders, you called it quits and left her dorm.

Your break-up was the toughest time for both of you, since you'd never gone public, you both had to maintain the happy facade for both your fans. It was particularly rough on you since a lot of the songs you'd been set to sing all the time were about and for her.

She anticipated every one of your songs since it was the only way she could hear your voice. Hearing how you forced yourself to be bouncy and in love with someone. At least she hoped you were forcing yourself.

On the day of your Sponsored Events, the day your latest song was to be performed during the event. The vocalist watched and saw the visible tiredness under your eyes but you still performed your heart out. Then a familiar melody played. One that Nayeon listened to all the time.

It was the first song you wrote about her. Except the lyrics were different. They were sadder, depicting your break-up rather than how you were beginning to fall in love with her. The lively guitar sound of the original was traded in for a softer and more delicate piano instrumental. As she looked at your face and heard the words that fell from your lips, it all came back to her in a wave, making her heart shatter all over again.

The rest of the girls came in after a while to check in on her and opted to stay with her to offer her some sort of comfort.

Nayeon watched your face intently, the ‘idol’ smile that was plastered onto your lips. You didn’t want to be there. She knew that. The interviewer went through a series of questions about your career and finally about the song. Your song for her, both versions. The smile on your face grew tighter, uncomfortably so.

“So two years ago, you released a song that you revamped and performed for us.” The interviewer asked you and you nodded, a dry chuckle falling from your lips. “And you said before that that song was written for a very special girl. What’s the story behind that one?” He pried making your jaw evidently clench. The girls sitting next to Nayeon eyed her carefully as she stared at your tense form. Silently anticipating what you were going to say.

For a moment, you collect yourself. The sadness swirling in your chest again from rewriting the song that you wrote for her. Having to channel all those emotions without crying on national television. You took a deep breath, releasing it with a pathetically winded laugh. “Short of it is that sometimes you need to let go of things to keep them whole. Uh…” You cleared your throat softly. The smile on your face fell a little, a sad and wistful grin left in its place. “Some things just need to happen to make way for better things, I guess.” You finished, the interviewer stunned.

A silence hung over the live feed for a moment. Nayeon and the rest of TWICE waited patiently to see what would happen next. The man leaned forward, propping his elbow onto his knee as he looked at you and asked, “If you could change the circumstances, Y/n…Would you choose to stay with her?” A somber smile on his face as your head upturned a little, eyes red and watery. Without a second thought, you nodded slowly.

Nayeon’s held tears trickled slowly down her cheeks as she held back a soft sob. “If I could…” You took a deep breath, lifting your hand to fan the tears out of your eyes, laughing softly at yourself before continuing. “I would leave everything behind to be with her.” The vocalist’s members had their arms around Nayeon as you spoke. She had pretty much bawled her eyes out as the unspoken confessions left your mouth.

“But I could never do that to her, not after all her sacrifices. I can’t.” Your voice finally cracked as the feed finally cut. The room echoed the eldest’s soft sobs while you did the same on the other side of the city.

okay, so this one was a little wobbly because i was not sober when i wrote this. had a bottle of soju and i'm feeling good HAAHAHH anyway, i hope you all enjoyed this and remember that requests are open and comments and criticism is completely welcomed! keep safe everyone and i will see you all very soon 😊😁

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randomshyperson · 3 years ago

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 13 - The Sixth Year (Part Three)

My dear friend @abimess, I keep stealing your gifs and making updates without telling you. I hope you never get tired of it.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Chapter Warnings: Magical torture with minors, cursing, angst, ptsd, derogatory thoughts and behavior, dark magic.

Chapter Words: 8.486 K

A/N> Yes, I've gone for a month without warning anyone, and yes that might go on, but at least i'm near ending this (I'm already writing chapter 21). Once I'm finished, I'll just programe tumblr to upload them all for me because i'm lazy. I hope anyone like this yet, i don't even know what i'm doing anymore. Good reading!

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 13 - Part XIII - The Sixth Year (Part Three)

Gossip really starts to irritate you when you go to lunch after potions.

"You want to say something to me, girl?" You charge impatiently when you hear the giggles behind you again, coming from a group of students sitting at Ravenclaw's table.

The group turns around with wry smiles on their faces, and you notice the editions of the Daily Prophet in the hand of one of the boys. It is Hope Summers, your classmate, who speaks first:

"We're just sharing some theories, Stark." She says in a provocative tone. "Some of us find it an interesting coincidence that just now that Mephisto is back, you and Maximoff are losing control of magic."

You frown.

"What are you talking about?" you ask in surprise, referring to Wanda, but Hope thinks you want her to keep mocking you.

"It's just suspicious that no one knows what happened to you in that dungeon, or at the ministry of magic." Hope counters. "And now you two are blowing things up, and we have a dark wizard on the loose."

"Fuck you, Summmers." You curse as you stand up, leaving the girl in shock at your aggressiveness.

The same auror from the first day stands in front of you as you try to approach Slytherin's table.

"Students must respect..."

But you interrupted his speech with a loud shove that sent him staggering backwards, and drew the immediate attention of several people.

You were seeing red by now, the man's wry smile only making you more irritated.

He drew his wand, but so did you. And the room held its breath.

"Put your wand away, Miss Stark." Warned the auror angrily, but you didn't.

Wanda stood up as she noticed the confusion, rushing to reach you, but the auror put his arm in her way.

"Now, miss." He warned again, and you grunted in irritation.

"Get your hands off her." You retorted, feeling your body fever with hatred.

"Stark." The man said, his arm reaching down to push Wanda back, and you exploded.

You didn't even finish thinking about the spell, the magic exploding out of your wand.

The auror masterfully blocked it, and you dropped your wand to jump on top of him.

It was a confusion of shoving, other bigger students pulling you away from the man and he away from you.

" Never fucking touch her again!" You warned snorting in anger, Thor Odinson stopping you from jumping on the man's neck.

"I just pushed her away from the line of fire, you crazy bitch!" The auror retorted indignantly and angrily. "Go to the headmaster's office now!"

"Fuck you!"

Thor pulled you out of the hall as the crowd of students whistled in celebration, excited about the whole fight. The auror was too busy dissipating everyone to follow you.

"Hey, hothead, calm down." The blonde warned as he released the grip of you by the courtyard. You grunted angrily, wishing you could break something.

"Fuck this school, fuck that asshole." You complained aloud, as Thor looked at you curiously.

"You have quite a rage, Stark." He comments, and you grumble in irritation.

But Wanda catches up with you the next moment, and she looks even angrier than you.

"What the hell was that?" she asks and you roll your eyes, running your hands through your hair.

"I think you are going to be fine for now on." Thor comments, smiling at the thank you Wanda says to him before leaving you two alone.

"So?" Wanda insists, arms crossed. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at her.

"What do you want me to say?" You retort angrily.

"You just started a fight for no reason! Again!" She accuses. "Only this time it was with a wizard who could kill you. I want to know what's going on!"

"I don't know, Wanda!" You exclaim angrily. "Why does everyone expect me to have answers? I don't know! Do you understand that? It feels like I'm going to explode in frustration any second, neither you or Gamora seem to get it. I don't understand what's happening to me!"

"Because you won't talk to us!" She shouts back, just as annoyed as you are. "You're pushing everyone away! Even me! We can't help you if you don't talk to us!"

You grunt impatiently, turning around. There was a strange throbbing in the back of your head, a strange whisper. Like a voice telling you that no one was telling you the truth, that your friends expected too much of you, that Wanda didn't care...

This last thought made you sob. Wanda softened her expression immediately, taking a step toward you and touching your shoulder, but you pulled away from her touch as if burned, wiping your tears away quickly.

"Leave me alone, Wanda." You mutter between teeth. She hesitates, raising her hand toward you again.

"Please."

"I need some time from you." You insist, pushing her hand away, and walking away.

A part of your brain is begging you to go back and make things right, but there is a cloud of anger and irritation that keeps you walking.

//-//-//-//-//

You roll over in bed in discomfort.

Nightmares. Again.

It has only been five days since you had your fight with Wanda, and you are getting worse every day.

With Summers' teasing, you end up noticing other things too.

How the school really found the theory that you and Wanda were somehow related to Mephisto, because the minister had covered up what happened in the dungeons and in the ministry, and everybody thought it was strange that two students were showing an increase in magical potential with the return of a dark wizard.

Unlike you, who were failing considerably in any simple execution of spells, Wanda was demonstrating exceptional abilities. Kaecilius was more than willing to make her the face of progress at Hogwarts, you heard the gossip about bringing in reporters to share the news of the new direction.

You know that the only reason Wanda hasn't come after you yet was because you're running away from her like the plague.

And you couldn't even explain why.

You were also blocking out your real health condition from her. Just like you two practiced during the summer.

Besides hiding this from Wanda, you have kept your friends away too, isolating yourself from everyone else in search of a little rest, only succeeding in taking a nap when you are running away between classes.

And the detentions with Kaecilius keep increasing as you skip classes.

You begin to consider learning to write with a different hand, just so the bruise has time to heal, but at this point you don't even care about the scar anymore.

"You really must like pain." Loki teases wryly as you sit in an empty room, waiting for the aurors' shift change again after your detention.

You don't ask him what he's doing on that floor again, and he doesn't ask why you haven't spoken to your friends in two weeks.

"Sure, that must be it." You joke back, massaging your injured hand.

He assumes a pensive expression for a second.

"Are you sure you haven't been cursed by someone?" He asks, causing you to frown in shock and confusion.

"Excuse me?"

He gives a little chuckle, settling himself better against the wall.

"Everyone's been talking about you being sick." He says. "I heard some of the Ravenclaw people theorize that you became a werewolf over the summer."

You laugh helplessly, massaging your temples lightly.

"I guarantee that's not it." You say making Loki smile.

"If you are sick for no reason, it could be a curse." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised, the way things are."

"But how do I find out if I've been cursed?"

Loki takes a thoughtful stance.

"I don't know." He says. "But I'm sure you can learn that in the no longer reserved session of the library."

You laugh at the joke, but soon you both return to silence. When that hallway's shift ends, Loki sighs, getting up and helping you to stand.

"Still can't perform spells?" He asks, already drawing his wand.

"Only if I want to blow things up." You scoff making him laugh.

"Fine, I'll enchant you." He says. When you are transparent, he looks at you with an amused expression. "See you next Saturday, troublemaker?

"Don't worry, I plan on skipping DADA, maybe I'll be here tomorrow." You retort in the same tone before turning to leave.

//-////-//-//-//-//

It takes three more days for Wanda to finally corner you.

You are skipping class in an empty room on the seventh floor, trying to doze off, and almost fall out of your chair with fright when the door opens and Wanda comes in, looking annoyed.

You grunt impatiently, without lifting your face from the desk.

"I told you I needed time." You complain, but tense up when you notice the tears in her eyes as she moves closer to sit at the table next to yours.

" You want to break up with me?" She asks in a whisper and you raise your head immediately, feeling your chest tighten.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Wanda gives a humorless laugh at your expression. "Why are you acting like this is an absurd idea? You've disappeared. You've been avoiding me, not even talking to me anymore."

You shake your head quickly, feeling the urge to cry.

"I don't want to break up with you." You say. "I..I would never want to be away from you."

"You just said you need time away from me." Wanda retorts with annoyance, and you feel your stomach clench as she sighs. "I don't know what's going on with us. And I miss you, but you won't let me near you."

You are exhausted. So you cry.

You rest your head on your arms, and let your sobs fill the silence, hoping that the tears will take this bad feeling away.

It's Wanda's gentle touch on your back that helps.

"Babe, tell me what's wrong." She whispers to you, her tone concerned.

It takes many minutes for you to calm down. But when you do, Wanda holds your hand, kneeling on the floor beside the chair you are in.

"I can't do magic." You breathlessly tell her from crying, "And I can't sleep. I've been sick for weeks, and I'm angry all the time. Healer Cho doesn't know what's wrong with me, but everyone at school seems to have a theory about it. I think I'm going to suffocate, Wanda. I'm messing everything up. Between us, between my family, and at school." You sob as you finish and Wanda shakes her head, her hand coming up to your cheek.

"Don't say that." She urges. "You didn't ruin anything. Hey, look at me. I love you. Your sisters love you, your friends love you. We'll figure out what's going on."

Wanda hugs you tight, and you sob, shaking.

You want to believe her words, so you push the intrusive thoughts away, and believe it.

//-//-//-//

Wanda takes you to a door in that same floor you two were before, but you have never seen that door until that moment.

And you are very surprised to realize that it is a bedroom.

"How...?" You ask confused as she closes the it.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement." She says with a smile, pulling you by the hand around. "We hold our Avengers meetings here." She counters and you frown.

"In a bedroom? Interesting choice." You comment and she giggles.

"No, my love." She says. "That's how this room works. It is charmed to meet your needs. That's why I asked you to come in first."

"Oh, that's pretty cool." You say looking around. Wanda smiles at you, and then you both reach the bed. "The room thinks I have to sleep?"

"I do too." Wanda retorts, pushing your shoulders gently for you to sit on the bed. "Go on, nice dreams."

You hesitate. "You gonna leave me here alone?"

Wanda denies with her head, pointing to the chair that probably just magically appeared next to the bed. You frown.

"Can't you sleep in the bed with me?"

She giggles. "We don't have much time for you to sleep. If I lie down, you'll want to kiss me. So I'll be sitting in that armchair, studying as I should." She explains seriously, and you pout.

"Stupid rules." You grumble moving your hands up to her waist. "Lie down with me."

"Babe..."

"Please."

Wanda sighs, then nods. You smile, quickly removing your shoes as she does the same. You quickly adjust yourself on the bed, opening your arms for her to lie on top of you, and she gives a little giggle before doing so.

"Are you cozy, sweetheart?" You murmur against her hair, and Wanda squeezes her arms around you.

"Yeah, your boobs are good pillows." She teases, making you laugh with reddened cheeks.

Your eyes begin to heavy quickly, fatigue catching up with your body relaxed by the comfort of the moment.

"Go to sleep, babe." Wanda whispers. "I'll be here when you wake up."

You smile with your eyes closed, surrendering.

It's the best sleep you've had in weeks.

The problem is that as soon as you start to wake up again, you are feeling sick.

You touch the emptiness in the bed, mumbling softly. When you open your eyes you find Wanda sitting in the armchair, the darkhold in her lap.

"Damn it, Wanda, this book again." You complain in a hoarse voice, but she just sighs.

"Why the attitude?"

"I hate that book." You grumble sitting up in bed, massaging your face lightly. "Why do you keep reading it anyway?"

"It's interesting." She says, closing the item to look at you. "Agatha really told me a lot, but there are also things I didn't know."

"For example?"

Wanda bites her lips, appraising you.

"Scarlet witches are forged, for instance." She says and you frown in confusion. Wanda sighs. "Many powerful witches, born scarlet witches, never got to fulfill their destiny because the forging didn't happen."

You straighten your clothes uncomfortably, pensively.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"What the headmistress did last year was my forging." She clarifies and you swallow dryly, feeling your stomach turn. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you ask confused.

"Everything." She says upset. "I know we've talked about this, but it seems like all I do is cause you problems. With the bond, and with the forge. If Agatha didn't want my powers, she wouldn't have taken you to the dungeon and you wouldn't have suffered."

You poke at the knot of your tie, feeling yourself suffocate slightly. Wanda is speaking, you blink to focus on her words.

"I'm sorry, could you say that again?" You ask out of breath, sweating. You blink to find Wanda's concerned gaze on you.

"Babe, what's wrong?" She asks worriedly, her hands around your face.

You feel your head spin, and everything goes dark before you can answer.

//-//-//-//

You smell the scent of grass when you wake up.

Then you blink in confusion, getting used to your surroundings to realize that you are in what looks like a ward bed.

"Hey, all right, take it easy getting up, Miss Stark." Asked Professor Strange with one hand on her shoulder. In the other he held a potion that you imagined he had given you.

"W-what happened?" you mumbled confusedly, sitting up in bed. Only now did you notice Professor Munroe and Wanda standing in front of the bed, both with worried expressions.

"You passed out, but you're better now I imagine." Stephen explained gently, but you were still feeling very weak.

"Professor, she simply blacked out." Wanda commented in a tearful voice. " Don't you have any idea what's wrong?"

Stephen sighed, and then pointed at the chair, the darkhold.

"Where did you get that book?" He asked, and Wanda frowned, taking a step toward the chair in a defensive posture.

"What does that have to do with my question?" she retorted dryly, and Stephen looked at you one last time before standing up.

"There's a reason it's called the Book of the Damned, Miss Maximoff." He says."It damns its readers."

"That's ridiculous." Wanda retorted, crossing her arms. "I've been reading it for weeks and nothing has happened."

"Not with you."

Wanda hesitates, widening her eyes. And then she takes a step back, swallowing her cry as she reaches out to grab the book and hand it to Stephen.

She turns her gaze back to you, and lets the tears fall.

"I am truly sorry." She says with a mixture of guilt and shame before turning to leave the room.

You call out to her about three times, but she leaves and you don't have the strength to go after her.

"Damn, couldn't I have said that in a different way?" You complain angrily to Stephen, who just sighs, exchanging a look with Professor Munroe. "How come you two are here anyway?"

"It was Wanda." Professor Ororo replies. "She asked the room for someone trustworthy to help her with you. Then there was a door opening in the potions room. Stephen was there with me, and we both came."

"Great." You mutter annoyed, thinking about how you are going to talk to Wanda and convince her that you were not angry with her. "Would either of you happen to know how to make me better now?"

"Sure." Stephen comments by raising the book in the air, and with a wave of his hand, the item dissolves into several pieces until it is gone. "I didn't destroy it, if that's what you're thinking. I just put it away, to prevent something like that from happening again."

"Congratulations." You grumble wryly as you straighten up in bed, the same migraine from before is now weaker, but it's still there.

"You know, you had a better attitude when you didn't have a magical doom on your spirit." Stephen complains, causing you to frown, but Professor Ororo gives a chuckle.

"Thanks professor." You comment wryly, making him laugh. He sits back down beside your bed, and pulls out of the cover a small notebook.

"Now that Miss Maximoff has stopped reading the book, I suppose you will get better." Stephen says, making you sigh.

"You suppose? That's encouraging." You say moving to stand up.

"Where are you going, Miss Stark? You need to rest." Warn the professor, but you ignore him, and ignore the weakness in your body as well.

"What I need, Strange, is for people to stop lying to me."

"No one is lying, Miss Stark." Professor Ororo states next. "We really don't know the extent of the magic the darkhold carries."

"And why is that I imagine?" You sneer. "Because someone omitted the truth from you, and it's been passed down for generations, isn't it? Well, that's over now. Because we've finally studied everything in this place, including a book that condemns anyone who reads it." You exclaim impatiently, stooping down to put on your shoes. "If you two will excuse me, I'll figure out how to get better on my own. But first I'm going to explain to my girlfriend that none of this is her fault."

Ororo and Stephen are silent, but you wouldn't have been paying attention to anything they said anyway.

Soon you are up and out of the requirement room looking for Wanda.

//-//-//-//

She seems to have disappeared from the castle, so you must concentrate to use your instincts.

The hardest part is dodging the aurors, but you finally reach the astronomy tower.

You're a little out of breath from the run, but it's the image of Wanda standing on the edge, the sunlight in her hair that leaves you breathless.

"Hi." You say in a low tone, your hands in your pockets as you approach. She startles slightly, wiping away tears as she keeps her gaze forward.

"What do you want here?" she asks in a husky voice. You sigh.

"That you stop hating yourself and listen to me." You say and she lets out a short laugh.

"And what do you think you can say?" She questions turning her body toward you. "All I do is hurt you."

You shake your head, but Wanda lets out a tearful laugh.

"No you don't understand." She says. "Since I met you, you have only brought me good things. Affection, happiness, hope. You've been that kind warm feeling that I need on my worst days. Hell, you're even the memory for me to cast a patronus." She confesses with emotion, her face wet with tears. "But me? All I bring you is pain and suffering. And now I even bring sickness. This is wrong, I hurt you. You need to see this, and understand that we can no longer happen."

"Don't say that." You ask, reaching up to touch her face, wipe away her tears. "That's not true, Wanda. I love you, you make me..."

"Stop it." She interrupts with a sob. "Don't make it any harder than it already is."

"Please, Wanda, listen to me." You plead, resting your forehead on hers, your hands on her cheeks. "You make me happy, you are the only thing that makes me happy, I love you, please..."

Wanda kisses you hard, and you respond with the same intensity, both of you gasping into each other's mouths.

But then she is pulling away, thrusting you farther apart.

"I'm sorry." She cries, taking a step back. "We're over."

And she's running away again, and this time you don't go after her.

//-//-//-//-//

Without Darkhold's being consumed, you really start to improve in terms of physical health.

The only problem is the emotional ditch you find yourself in.

Gamora, Nebula and Mantis find you, again in the Room of Requirement, skipping class.

"My god this is worse than last time." Gamora remarks as she looks around at the mess of junk food and pillows. The room had been transformed into a "comfortable place", which basically had the appearance of a living room, with several soft armchairs, and lots of unhealthy food. "Why did you guys break up this time?"

"Please don't talk to me." You grumbled, your voice coming out muffled because you were lying on two soft puffs, your face buried in the pillow, your hand inside a bag of muggles snacks.

"I bet you five bucks they'll be back together before the end of the month." Nebula commented and you sniffled against your pillow, hearing a noise that sounded like Gamora hitting her sister.

"We talked to Wanda." Mantis said. "And with Professor Stephen, too. We're sorry about everything, but have you decided you're not going to study anymore?"

"I don't care about school." You grumble against the pillow. "Leave me alone, I want to cry."

Nebula gives a short laugh, and Gamora elbows her.

"Stop hitting me, you crazy." Nebula complains loudly, moving away from her sister to approach you, taking the bag of snacks you have, and making you complain softly. "And you stop being such a drama queen. Aren't you two like soul mates or some shit? It's just a fight, you'll work it out. You're acting like you've never broken up before."

"Your sensitivity is admirable." Gamora scoffs, pushing her sister away to sit next to you, stroking your back until you look up at her. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You feel the urge to cry arise again. "Wanda thinks she is bad for me." You say. "And she doesn't want to be with me anymore, and I want to die."

You start crying again, stuffing your face into the pillow as Gamora strokes your hair.

"How did this happen anyway?" Nebula asks, confused, chewing on salty snacks."You barely slept at home over the summer to be with her, and now you guys are breaking up. It's hard to keep up with this relationship."

"Merlin, Nebula shut up." Gamora asks impatiently, and her sister raises her hands in surrender with an ironic expression. You want to scream against your pillow, but all you do is try to control your crying.

"You can't keep disappearing, sweetheart." Gamora says as she runs her hands through your hair, trying to calm you down. "Kaecilius has already noticed. He's trying to figure out where you're going, and eventually he'll figure it out since you can't stay here forever."

"Maybe I can." You mumble making Gamora laugh softly.

"Come on, I'm sure you miss a decent meal." She says. "Why don't you join us for lunch?"

"I can't sit at your table."

"Who said anything about a table?"

This is how you end up on the edge of the great lake, at a picnic.

Mantis gets several dishes from the house elves, and since lunch is a free social hour, nobody seems to mind that you are eating outside.

Your sisters are not the only students who, over time, have learned ways around school rules.

You grumble slightly as you feel the sun on your face, but lie back on the grass, closing your eyes.

Your mind wanders back to last summer immediately, the memories of Wanda, and you feel horrible. You just want her back. And then you swallow the urge to cry again to accept the juice Mantis offers you.

"We wanted to tell you that we've found a way to help you, too." Gamora says after a moment, causing you to raise your eyebrow. "About the darkhold, and the eternal damnation thing."

"Light topic." You sneer, throwing your arm over your face. The day is hot. "I appreciate the help, of course."

Gamora giggles. "Merlin, I had forgotten how grumpy you get when you're upset."

"I'm not upset, Gamora." You retort angrily. "I'm frustrated."

"Sexually." Nebula sneers, making you grunt in anger, but Mantis holds back a laugh.

"What's your problem with my feelings lately?" You accuse the girl with irritation.

"Not everything is about you, you know." She retorts and you sit up quickly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Nebula laughs, rolling her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on." She says. "We're all stressed and scared. And the three of us have been in the same classes as you, having to watch the same things. But you only have time for Wanda. And now you've broken up, again, because there's some mortal danger, again, that she's caused for you. So, I don't know, but maybe she is right to break up. Ever since you guys started dating everything has been about her, and the trouble she causes!"

"Fuck you, Nebula!" You exclaim angrily, advancing against the girl in front of you. Gamora and Mantis quickly separate you.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Gamora shoves you. "Were you really going to hit her?"

"Fuck this." You curse angrily, taking a step away. "I didn't ask any of you to come after me. I don't need you. I just need Wanda. Fucking leave me alone."

You turn back to the castle, cursing the wild on your way.

//-//-//-//

Loki is the only friend you have now.

You wouldn't call him a friend exactly.

Kaecilius has put you in detention for three days a week, including Saturday, but mostly you just clean the castle. But when he takes you to the seventh floor, and makes you scrape sentences against your own skin, you don't worry about being alone anymore, because Loki is always on that floor.

It takes a week for you to tell him about the requirement room.

" You could have mentioned it earlier, we would have stuck around here." He comments without sounding upset.

Soon it doesn't take long for you two to start seeing each other even when you're not in detention.

You are not surprised that Loki also skips classes, he has always been quite mischievous, but the reason is different from yours.

He knew dark magic. Much more than you or your classmates. And he has no interest in practicing it in class.

"It's stupid." He comments as you are sitting in the armchairs. "Most people will never have the courage or willpower to cast a death curse. It's useless to learn."

"Is that the only reason you don't agree with the teaching at Hogwarts now?" You ask in surprise, setting up the chessboard for yourself as Loki shrugs his shoulders.

"I feel like you're judging me, Hufflepuff." He sneers but you smile, rolling your eyes.

"Honestly, I don't give a damn."

And you really didn't care.

Wanda was avoiding you in the halls, and you were doing the same with your friends and family.

When Iron delivered the mail to the Slytherin table, including Nebula's birthday presents, you wanted to throw up, but all you did was walk away from the Hufflepuff table toward the requirement room.

Without the darkhold, you didn't feel sick, but the anger didn't go away.

Your magic hadn't stabilized, and you were failing at everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to worry about it.

Erik wrote to you, commenting on the importance of you and Wanda practicing magical balancing together, and you burned the letter while crying on the carpet.

And at this rate, time went by.

It was almost the middle of the school year when things started to take a turn for the worse at Hogwarts, and in the wizarding war as well.

Mephisto is getting stronger, and the order is losing. And Kaecillius must be under some pressure from the ministry, maybe for answers from organizations like the Avengers, which are forbidden, because his detentions get too horrible.

It is Saturday again, and you drag yourself to the room where you are supposed to fulfill your detention, but unlike the other days, Kaecillius locks the door.

You only notice because he seems tense and distracted, and there is no feather or book.

"Professor, what will my punishment be today?" You ask confused, and he is nodding to the center of the room as he stands in front of the desk, a few feet from you.

"Miss Stark, today I want to ask some questions and I expect honesty." He declines as he turns to you.

You hiss softly, putting your hands in your pockets.

"Shoot."

Kaecillius doesn't even mind your lack of formality, looking at you with an impassive face.

"What is Mephisto's location?"

You choke in surprise and disbelief. "Excuse me? Why do you think I know that?"

"The ministry has reason enough to suspect that the Order of the Avengers is nothing more than a cover for the death walkers.Your brother, whom I had suspected of being part of that order of delinquents, is no longer at Hogwarts, but you will have to serve." He speaks and with each word you become more outraged. "Now answer me, where is Mephisto?"

" Did you just fucking call my brother a delinquent?" You mutter incredulously. "I have no idea where Mephisto is, what's your problem?"

But you widen your eyes when the professor draws his wand, and you barely have time to swallow dry before the spell hits you in the chest.

It's the cruciatus curse. You know the second it hits you. The sharp pain fills every cell in your body and you scream, not having the strength to stand or with your eyes open, hugging yourself.

"We must not tell lies, Miss Stark." Kaecillius says as soon as he stops enchanting you, the pain disappears in the same instant, but you continue to tremble.

In complete shock and fear, you sob.

"I will ask you again, where is Mephisto?"

You let the tears flow, and shake your head. "I don't know, professor."

Kaecillius lets out a sigh of disappointment. "Some cases are more difficult than others." He comments somberly, taking a step toward her. "Did you know that the record for enduring the Cruciatus curse before madness is six hours? Incredible, isn't it? It happened during the first war, with a muggleborn. You're a half-blood, maybe you can take longer"

He has a devilish grin as he finishes, and you clench your jaw at the threat.

"I don't know where Mephisto is." You repeat, but the professor points his wand at you again.

"My bet is seven hours."

And then the pain returns.

You don't know how long you stay in that room.

But it is long enough for your consciousness to begin to fade. The pain gets so severe that it gradually fades away. You begin to gasp breathlessly, not even able to scream anymore.

Someone help me. Please, help me. Help me. Wanda.

Between the tears you see the floor of the room, and between a twinge of pain, a red light. And everything is dark again.

//-//-//

“Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Warcraft and Wizard is arrested in flagrant by aurors from the ministry of magic this week, full coverage on page..."

You blink confusedly, your eyes getting used to the clarity, while the headline of the Daily Prophet was the first thing your vision caught.

And then you shifted in bed, realizing that you were in a hospital room , and whoever was reading next to you put the paper down when they heard you, and you could behold the curious look on your brother's face.

"Tony?" you whispered confused, and he smiled as he stood up quickly, the newspaper forgotten on the armchair.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked as his hand reached for the loose strands of hair on your face and put them back. "You scared the hell out of me."

"What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

You thought, and then sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Kaecilius."

Tony bit his lip nervously before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He said, lowering his hand to his own. "I came here as soon as I got the howler from Professor Strange, but honestly, I didn't even need it, because all the newspapers are talking about it."

"What...?" You started in confusion, but Tony hurried to explain.

"Wanda found you, Y/N." He told. "She, well, wasn't exactly happy about the whole thing. I think she lost control. Kaecilius is lucky to be alive if you ask me. She almost destroyed the seventh floor, it was a huge mess. And then the aurors interfered, and soon there were reporters everywhere. I guess now everyone knows she's a scarlet witch."

You widened your eyes, straightening to sit up and grumbling a little in pain. Tony looked at you with concern, asking you to take it easy, but you were already asking about Wanda.

"She's at the ministry of magic." He clarified. "Kaecilius is going on trial for torturing a student, and she will answer for putting everyone in danger."

" What?" you ask incredulously, and Tony sighs.

"Yeah I know it's unfair." He says. "But the minister of magic seems to be looking everywhere for people to blame for his lack of control. The problem is how much of that information will get to Mephisto. The whole ministry seems to be full of walkers."

You ran your hand across your face, frustrated.

"I'm so tired, Tony." You confess in a whisper. "It feels like everything is falling apart around me, and things are only getting worse."

Tony squeezes your hand. "I'm sorry, I really am. This whole situation sucks, and I wanted to help you. I'm trying, sister. I haven't been talking to you as much as I should, but I didn't want you to think you're alone. I'm working on breaking the bond. To free you and Wanda from the prophecy, and the wizarding world from dangers like Mephisto. I'm sorry I haven't been by your side."

You swallow your cry, and nod, trying to smile at Tony. He reaches up to hug you, and you gasp softly, taking a few seconds to relax and let the tears flow.

When you calm down, Tony tells you that he is going to get a Mediwizards to check your situation.

You lie down again, sighing softly. The memories come back with full force, and you choke softly, feeling your body tremble.

It's as if you can feel the curse again, sense the pain on your skin. Opening your eyes and shaking the memories away, you swallow dryly and reach for the glass of water on the nightstand.

You just want Wanda by your side telling you that everything is going to be okay.

//-//-//-//-//

You stay under observation for two days.

Doctor Hank makes a joke about you enjoying St.Mungus more than you should since you keep coming back, but Tony doesn't laugh.

Then you' re going back to Hogwarts by train, because the doctor thinks you shouldn't use magical means of transportation for a few days, and it's weird to take the empty express, but as soon as you arrive at the station, Gamora and Nebula are waiting for you with boxes of candy bought in Hogsmeade, and tight hugs.

You are not surprised by the stares you receive from the other students, but you ignore them as your sisters escort you around the castle to the Hufflepuff communal hall.

"Did you get to talk to Wanda?" Gamora asks as soon as you sit down on your bed, sighing with exhaustion from the train ride. The mention of the other sorceress' name doesn't help.

"Not yet." You say. "And I wouldn't be surprised to hear that she's ignoring me."

Nebula exchanges a look with her sister before sitting down on Mantis' bed, who is hugging her knees and looking at you.

"Honestly, I just want to finish this year without any more problems." You confess as you take off your jacket. And there is a moment of silence before you swallow dryly. "I also wanted to apologize to you guys."

Gamora frowns slightly, but says nothing. You take a deep breath.

"I know I was under the influence of an evil book, but that was still no excuse for treating you guys like that." You begin. "Tony told me about how things are in the wizarding world. Everyone is going through something, and it was selfish of me to think that only my problems matter. I'm sorry."

"Really, Y/N, it's okay." Nebula says, surprising you a bit. "We were all stressed, and well, I think an evil book is a pretty fair excuse." She jokes, making you smile. "Maybe things will get a little better now that Strange is the director."

"Oh, that's right" You comment just then remembering the things Tony updated you on while you were at St.Mungus. Like Kaecillius' resignation, and the position being passed on to Professor Stephen. "But honestly, I won't be at peace until I hear from Wanda."

"The trial isn't until Friday. And the way things are going, we won't get any news until it's over." Gamora warned as she sat down on the bed next to you. "I think the Maximoffs are probably too busy to write."

"What do you think will happen to Wanda?" You ask as you tug at the loose strands of the comforter. Mantis sighs lightly.

"I don't have a good feeling about things, Y/N." She confesses and you frown in concern. "And the stars never lie."

"Thank you, Mantis." You mock softly, and Gamora runs her hands through her hair.

"Let's not be pessimistic, okay?" she says. "Maybe the predictions are about, I don't know, the school finals? It doesn't mean something bad is really going to happen."

You grumble unhappily, grabbing a pillow and sinking your face into it. Gamora strokes your back.

"I'm sure things will work out, Y/N." She says. "Wanda will write as soon as she can."

"Do you guys think Kaecilius will be sent to Azkaban?" Nebula asks next, making you raise your head curiously.

"I wouldn't be so sure." You grumble. "I was actually surprised that he was put on trial at all."

"Well, with the whole mess that happened, it was bound to happen." Gamora said. "More than half the school became aware that he used the cruciatus curse on you, and then the daily prophet. And I didn't even know they were in the castle."

"It was because of Wanda really, wasn't it?" Mantis added. "Kaecillius caused his own ruin. He called the journalists to show what he called progress and decided to torture a student while they were in the castle. Then Wanda destroyed the entire floor and the next morning his arrest was all over the pages."

"I'm just really outraged to know that if no one had seen it, he would probably still be at Hogwarts." Gamora says angrily, and you sigh, agreeing as well as the others.

"Well, you must be hungry, shall we go to the great hall? It's almost dinner time." Gamora comments next, pulling you by the hand. You grumble softly, but agree, and soon you are leaving the communal hall to join the rest of the students.

//-//-//-//-//

You are tapping your fingers gently against the desk as you wait for the History of Magic class to begin.

It is Friday, finally.

You have barely slept because of anxiety about news of Wanda's trial.

Things at Hogwarts have changed a lot this week, all because of Strange's administration.

He restored the old classes, banned the teaching of dark magic, the scandal at the Daily Prophet being enough of an argument that the Minister of Magic no longer had a defense over this kind of teaching at Hogwarts. The restricted session of the library was also put back, and the seventh floor was off-limits because of the destruction Wanda caused, and you unfortunately lost access to the Requirement room.

Mantis was writing what looked like a lunar calendar for the divination class while Professor Okoye didn't arrive, and you started whistling distractedly.

And then Thor Odinson was poking you in the back to get your attention, and you turned around in your chair.

"Hi, Stark, what's up?"

"Fine." You grumbled suspiciously. "Can I help you with something?"

Thor looked almost unsure. "I was just wondering if you know of anything going on with Loki."

You frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I mean if you know if he's sick or something." He explains. "We had a fight, and well, he's not talking to me. And I've noticed that you guys have been kind of close lately, and I was curious if you knew anything and..."

"No, Thor, I'm sorry." You interrupt with a sigh. "Maybe you should ask him that."

Thor assumes a sad expression. "I would, but he's ignoring me. I think it might be about our mother."

You make a confused expression, and Thor looks surprised.

"Our mother, she...died earlier this year, Y/N." Thor counters, and you widen your eyes. "Our family is a name of reference against Mephisto. With the war, the walkers came to our home. She was there while we were here, and Dad was at the ministry."

"I'm so sorry, Thor." You whisper to him, still shocked by the information. He shrugged.

"I thought Loki told you."

"We don't talk about things like that, I guess." You say. "Sorry, I wish I knew how to help you."

"No, it's okay." Thor says with a sad smile. "You being his friend this year is more than enough. I don't like seeing him all alone out here."

You nod lightly, settling into your chair as you notice the teacher entering the room.

Mantis exchanges a look of understanding with you, having overheard the conversation even if accidentally, but she says nothing, and soon you are hearing about the witch hunt in the United States, and you try to focus on that rather than curiosity about how Wanda's trial is going or Loki's current emotional state.

//-//-/-//-//-//

As soon as lunchtime begins, you join the Slytherin table, where some of the students have placed a radio on the table, equally with other students from the other houses, to listen to the trial.

You are not surprised that a student's trial is such an interesting topic for everyone, but after the school started talking about Wanda being a scarlet witch, and the theories circulating around the halls, it was to be expected.

So you sit back while biting your fingertips and listening.

"And now directly from the Ministry of Magic, the trial of seventeen-year-old witch Wanda Maximoff, daughter of legendary witch Erik L-"

Your attention is slightly diverted from the narrative when loud laughter catches your ears.

They are Gryffindor and Slytherin students, exchanging coins. You don't need to hear the conversation to know they are gambling about the trial, the mean laughter and glances in the direction of you and your sisters are enough.

And as if she could feel your growing fury, Gamora touches your shoulder gently.

"Just ignore them, Y/N." She urges and you clench your jaw. " Everything is going to be okay with Wanda."

"I hope you're right, Gamora." You grumble, turning your attention back to the radio.

The narration of the newspaper is generic, and you discover that the audience has been closed off to the reporters.

You take a deep breath, concentrating.

No strange feeling, so Wanda is safe.

You wonder if Erik and Pietro are by her side during the whole thing.

It is only at the end of lunchtime that you have the result.

"It's amazing how things unfold in the ministry this afternoon." Counted the reporter with almost excitement. "After a unanimous vote, the witch Wanda Maximoff was found guilty of endangering her fellow students by not registering as a scarlet witch to the ministry of magic, after it was proven that her father, the sorcerer Erik Lehnsherr knew of her condition, as well as the affiliation with the criminal, Agatha Harkness was also mentioned. The ministry finally decided on Wanda Maximoff's expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding"

You felt your stomach plummet.

And everything became a little muffled around you, a soft whistle in your ear. You think Gamora and Nebula were calling for you, but you were getting up, feeling the room getting too small.

Stumbling out, you loosened the knot of your tie, finally stopping in the courtyard as you leaned your body against a pillar.

Wanda had been expelled from Hogwarts, publicly exposed as a Scarlet Witch, and tried as a criminal. You wondered if they would break her wand. Banned wizards led horrible lives.

Your sisters and friends caught up with you quickly, and you let them hug you.

In a few minutes Director Strange is catching up with you as well, and you release Gamora's grip to talk to him.

"Professor, I need to..."

"You cannot leave Hogwarts, Miss Stark." He interrupts with a wave of his hands and you frown in confusion, ready to protest but he is already speaking. "Tony sent a patronus as soon as the results came out, he already figured you'd want to see Miss Maximoff. The ministry is a mess, and Wanda will be staying with her father there for the minister's final decisions. You should stay here, where you are safe."

"That's not fair!" You squawk angrily. "Wanda needs me, I must-"

"She needs you to be safe." He interrupts again seriously, and then lowers his tone slightly as he notices the curious looks of the surrounding students. "Be rational, Miss Stark. Now that the Wizarding community knows the nature of Wanda's powers, how long before Mephisto has enough information and discovers your identity as protector."

You swallow dryly, clenching your fists begrudgingly. Stephen is right. You look away, and he sighs, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Wanda will be fine, even without her NEWTS, she is an extraordinary witch." He says. "And the year is coming to an end, soon you will be able to see her again."

"She needs me now." You grumble annoyed, turning away from the professor's touch. He looks at you for a moment and then clears his throat.

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Stark." He says."In the meantime, focus on your studies, and be careful."

You frown at Stephen's words, but he is already turning and leaving before you can ask.

As you turn to your friends, Gamora has a worried look on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asks, and you sigh, agreeing to hug her again as you mumble no.

"I can feel how upset she is, Gamora." You grumble against your sister's shirt, wishing you could hug Wanda now. Gamora squeezes you against her arms, and you thank her for her intention even if it isn't enough.

The next few days are like a blur for you.

Many letters arrive, as do many editions of the Daily Prophet.

When the picture of the day Wanda's wand was broken comes out on the front page and you see her tired face, you have to run out of the common room to keep from crying in front of your colleagues.

Everyone writes to you, even Carol, everyone but the Maximoffs.

It is frustrating, and honestly, it breaks your heart in many ways.

The news of a Scarlet Witch after a century is almost as bombastic as Mephisto's return, and you're not surprised that many of your colleagues would start to comment on the possibility of Wanda working with him or against him.

It's overwhelming how everyone talks about her, but all you can feel is how much you miss her around the castle, around you.

You couldn't even remember that your magic is stable, and with everything that has happened, you haven't had time to figure out how to fix things.

Stephen tried to help, but he didn't know what was going on. At least the theoretical part of magic you were able to master, and you hoped to get at least an acceptable score in some subjects.

Only almost a week and a half after the trial, Professor Strange interrupts the potions class to talk to you.

Ignoring the curious stares and whispers of your classmates, you ask Professor Munroe to excuse you, and leave the room.

"What is wrong, professor?" You ask curiously as you close the door, watching Stephen with his hands in his pockets.The dungeons feel emptier without the ministry aurors around the castle.

"Saturday, in the Astronomy tower, nine-thirteen at night." He says as he hands you a small gold key, causing you to frown in confusion. "You will have exactly one hour, Miss Stark. Not a second more."

You stare at the object in your hand, and understand. A portal key. To Wanda.

"Thank you, Professor." You say, and Stephen nods before leaving.

You turn back to potions, the object in your pocket. You could barely contain your anxiety.

//-//-//-//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight || @iliketozoneout || @blackwow34 // @tiny--freak || @spongebobtentacles || @cyberbonesworld ||

A/F/N> Place your bets for my next comeback (a week, a month or tomorrow?). If I delete the blog, and you're in love with this story for some reason I don't know about because there are so many better things to read, know that I'll post everything on AO3 if I ever do.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #scarlet witch x reader #marvel imagines #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy #elizabeth olsen x reader #harry potter au

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neoculturetravesty · 4 years ago

Text

We met in online class - Part 9

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language, fist fight, a character has Covid-19 Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: So proud of the boys for breaking records with Hot Sauce 🥺💛 Also, Eid Mubarak to all who celebrate!

Renjun is ashamed to be surprised, but his friends remain true to their word.

That night, Renjun slept for what he’s sure was a good fourteen hours. Because by the time he woke, it was way in the afternoon. Jaemin was already back from his shift and Jeno was almost halfway through his. Jisung had insisted that Renjun get some more rest before he had to take over. It was a tiny bit disconcerting to have Jisung hovering over him the entire day to make sure he was eating and feeling okay, but Renjun had to admit--this was exactly what he needed. He didn’t like who he was when he was alone.

The boys had apparently even created a dedicated group chat where they would post updates and a list of things that were required at the hospital. Not that there was much required, anyway. But the boys would make sure that at the very least, Renjun’s mom had fresh clothes and home cooked food everyday while she couldn’t get out herself. Jaemin had even taken Renjun’s phone and gotten it fixed so he at least had a proper screen instead of a cracked one.

Even when Renjun was sure that he could take over on his own, the boys wouldn’t allow it. On many occasions, he had just stayed by them during their turns, thankful for their company and their friendship. Because who else in this world would spend their semester break in this fashion? He’s pretty sure they had plans; but they had forsaken them all to be there for him.

Renjun has no idea how it happens, but slowly and surely, things start to get better. He’s pretty certain it has to be some sort of a miracle. Like a little break of sunshine had finally decided to shine on him through the dark clouds. Like somehow, his guardian angel had decided that it had slacked off for long enough and now it should give Renjun a break. Because one day, the doctors tell them that Renjun’s grandmother will be a lot weaker for the next few days to come… but with a lot of care and attention, she should be ready to go home. They echo Renjun’s thoughts and tell them that it is nothing short of a miracle, but also that he should be thankful that his grandmother is still young and has a fighting spirit.

The day she is taken off of life support and brought into another room with a window through which he can see her, Renjun can’t hold himself back. He hugs onto Jaemin so tight and cries happy tears, and Jaemin holds him back just as strong, though he’s sure that he’s so overwhelmed by relief that he’s putting all of his weight onto the boy. But Jaemin doesn’t relent and holds onto him and lets him cry tears of joy into his shoulder.

The boys head home that night and laugh till they cry and celebrate Renjun’s grandma’s life and health. They eat like they had been hungry for days and slump their shoulders in ease like they had been keeping them tense for too long. They laugh and they sit together and keep letting out long sighs of relief, as if each breath was undoing a knot in their chest. It’s a sweet, victorious sort of a happy moment, and it is Jeno who has to remind them they need to focus now more than ever so that Renjun’s grandma can get her strength back and finally test negative. And it is an important reminder because the new semester is about to begin soon and given classes, they will have to redo their hospital visit schedules.

At the very least, they learn that the new semester would begin online, because the sudden surge in Covid cases had led them to another lockdown. Renjun’s not sure whether he should be happy or upset about it. On the one hand, he thinks this lockdown should’ve happened earlier so his grandma would’ve never gotten sick in the first place. On the other hand, he is happy that his grandma would now be safe and recover comfortably.

When classes begin and Renjun finds all his housemates at home, his heart drops a little and he wonders if he should just skip today. But an amused Jeno mutes himself during his online class and stops him.

“You have other friends, too, you know?” Jeno cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but I’m sure they have classes, too. Plus, the four of us have been doing this from the beginning, so… I don’t know…” Renjun says, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a bit nervous about leaving his mother and grandma on their own without help. But Jeno looks at him like he’s talking gibberish.

“Dude. Not the four of us. All seven of us have been doing this from the very beginning.” Jeno says, eyebrow still cocked, looking at Renjun like he’s sure he’s lost his mind.

Renjun looks up and for a moment, he is sure his face looks dumb. Because if the buffering wheel was a human expression, Renjun’s certain he’s wearing it now. “All… seven?”

“Do you even check the group chat? Chenle and Mark and Donghyuck. They’ve all been doing their duty from Day 1, you idiot. How else would the rest of us come home so early?” Jeno scoffs and laughs a bit, knotting his eyebrows at his clueless friend.

For a moment, Renjun is silenced. Because he doesn’t know how to process this information. He feels a swell in his chest. A sort of happiness that only true friendship brings. But at the same time, he feels an incredible pang of guilt, because for one, he is an asshole that keeps underestimating the said friendship. And for the other, he had done absolutely nothing to be deserving of such love.

“Dong… Donghyuck, too?” Renjun asks and he feels his heart breaking, though even in this surreal moment of realization, he recognizes how strange it is to feel heartbreak over something like this.

“Of course, you idiot. Donghyuck was the one that stayed at the hospital the entire first night when you were asleep.” Jeno tells him and smacks him lightly on the head.

And for the first time in his life, Renjun actually feels what it is like to have his head physically hang in shame. “I don’t deserve it.” he sighs.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes, Huang Renjun.” Jeno says and turns his attention back to his class.

“What do you mean?” Renjun retorts.

“Just because friends have a dumb fight, doesn’t mean they abandon each other in times of need.” Jeno states like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It should be simple and obvious, everything Jeno has said. But to Renjun, it is groundbreaking. Because Renjun wasn’t used to being loved and cared for without condition. In his dark and convoluted view of the world, everything was give and take. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. But here they were--his friends that were shattering all of those dumbass beliefs. Telling him that although he had been a grade A asshole and punched them in the face, they understood that he was going through some shit, and that taking care of his sick grandmother trumped all other childish grudges. Renjun realizes that perhaps, he was the most childish out of all his friends. Somewhere in his turbulent childhood, he might have skipped a lot of emotional development. Because why else would the kindness and love of his friends shock him so?

Jeno peeks over the top of his laptop and watches Renjun deep in thought, paying no attention to his own class. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Jeno says knowingly.

And that’s all Renjun needs to hear before he slams his laptop shut and makes his way out.

The fact that Renjun is probably a few steps behind in his emotional development is solidified when he sits next to Donghyuck on a park bench and suddenly finds himself at a loss for what to say.

The rush of blood and adrenaline he had felt in his veins leaving his house for his apology tour seemed to have faded when he saw his friend’s face. Donghyuck had been sitting next to Renjun’s father, but that hadn’t been the bothersome part. It was the fact that his friend was sitting there for him, but with a black eye that Renjun had given him.

In the grand scheme of healing black eyes, Donghyuck definitely looked less hurt than the last time Renjun had seen him. The purples were mostly gone, leaving behind hues of yellow and a speck of blue here and there. Though he may have been healing, there were more colors on him than before and that’s what made him look worse. That’s also the part that makes Renjun feel most ashamed. His friend was here for him even though he looked like shit thanks to him.

Renjun is sure that on the list of top ten assholes of the world, he would find his own name on top.

But sitting next to Donghyuck outside in the fresh air, he has no idea what to say. He thinks real hard and decides to start in the safe zone.

“Did the guys tell you? About my grandma?” he asks.

“Um, no. It was Jimin.” Donghyuck replies awkwardly.

Renjun nods. “I, uh… I told the guys like a day later, though. Did you tell them before I did?”

“No, um… I was at a party with the 127s… I didn’t see her text till like the next day either, so…” Donghyuck trails off.

Renjun nods again, then swallows. It’s so strange, how awkward this all is. It is unsettling because Donghyuck is the least awkward person he knows, and he hates that this weird zone is where their relationship seems to be heading.

Not if he can help it.

In another rush of dumbass adrenaline, Renjun gets up abruptly and stands before Donghyuck.

“Go on. Do it.” Renjun says and takes a deep breath.

“Huh?” Donghyuck looks at his friend quizzically.

“Do it. Just make it quick.” Renjun nods with determination and points at his face.

“You’re crazy.” Donghyuck states and slides further away on the bench, eyebrows raised, and a grimace on his mouth.

“Just do it, man. Do it so we can move on.” Renjun says, placing both hands on his waist and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m not going to punch you so you can move on, you psycho.” Donghyuck’s face is contorted, like he’s scandalized and perhaps even slightly scared of his friend.

“Come on, Donghyuckie. Just punch me and get it over with.” Renjun waves his hand impatiently, not relenting.

“Are you not hearing me, you crazy? I’m not punching you just to make you feel better!” Donghyuck almost yells.

And because Renjun is pretty sure this would work, he grabs at Donghyuck’s collar just to provoke him.

“What the fuck?!” Donghyuck tries to push Renjun off of him.

“Hit me!” Renjun shouts.

“No, are you fucking crazy! Get off me!” Donghyuck grabs at the sleeves of Renjun’s jacket and tries to pry him off.

“Not till you hit me!” Renjun insists, clinging onto the boy, grabbing and pulling at him to annoy him best he can to get a reaction.

“I’m not going to hit you!” Donghyuck yells. The two boys spin in inelegant, rough circles on the grass, trying to push and pull at one another.

“Punch me or you got no balls!” Renjun yowls and then finally feels the blow to his face that sends him flying to the ground.

He pauses for a bit because his head spins for a solid ten seconds. He shakes it vigorously to get it to focus and it helps because then he looks up to find a very startled and distressed Donghyuck looking down at him, fist still raised in the air.

“That had more throw than power.” Renjun comments, massaging his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s what I was going for.” Donghyuck agrees.

For a moment both boys nod and look at each other, acknowledging the technique and form of the punch. And then, they burst into laughter because fuck, all of this was so stupid. Renjun rolls on the grass and Donghyuck doubles over as he stands. Then he offers Renjun his hand to help him get up, which he takes eagerly, using it to lift up and fling himself into his friend’s arms. They hold each other strongly, thumping one another on the back. And just like that, the awkwardness is gone. All that was meant to be said has been said and now Renjun is no longer struggling to find his words. They come easily, because all of this is so natural. He was with his best friend, after all.

“You are a crazy motherfucker, you know that, right?” Donghyuck comments, shaking his head as they sit back down on the bench.

Renjun chuckles, then looks at the grass, because his head hangs in shame again. “I’m a sorry motherfucker.”

Donghyuck puts an arm around Renjun and thumps his back again. “You should be sorry, you dumb fuck. But also, you’ve got a pretty toxic coping mechanism, you know that, right?”

Renjun sighs long “I know. The longer I think about it, the dumber I feel.”

He expects his friend to make a joke in return but he feels his hesitation. So he looks up and finds Donghyuck trying to think of what to say. “Have you ever thought about… like sorting that out, maybe?” he finally asks.

“Sorting it out?” Renjun asks, confused.

“Like... you know this isn’t normal, right?” Donghyuck asks, and he doesn’t sound like he’s mocking. His tone doesn’t have the slightest hint of a joke and that’s what makes Renjun realize what he’s talking about.

“No… no, I haven’t…” Renjun admits. He doesn’t know why he’s never thought about ‘sorting it out’. Perhaps because he’s always thought he was smarter than anyone who could offer him help.

“You could give it a try. Talking to someone really helps sometimes, you know? Getting help can help.” Donghyuck says carefully.

Renjun bites his lip. He knows his friend is right, but he’s never really, truly given it a thought. Donghyuck senses his discomfort and changes the subject.

“Your grandma is finally getting tested again tomorrow.” he says as he stretches.

Renjun smiles “Yeah. I honestly can’t believe it…” he looks at his best friend “... but I also don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you…”

Donghyuck frowns and shakes Renjun by the shoulder “Stop it before I throw up.”

“I mean it.”

“I’ll throw up even if you mean it.”

“Donghyuck…”

“Okay, really, stop. Also, I’m not even the one you should be thanking. Or apologizing to.” Donghyuck sits back after he’s had his fill of shaking Renjun.

“Of course, you’re the one I should be thanking and apologizing to, you stupid. You did all of this for me even when I was an absolute asshole to you.” Renjun presses.

“You are an asshole, but you’re also a dumb asshole.” Donghyuck declares.

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize nicely, here.” Renjun pouts and his friend lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“I thought you were just being obtuse but you seriously don’t know…” Donghyuck shakes his head.

“Know what?” Renjun asks and Donghyuck shrugs and acts like a little shit which annoys Renjun, but at the same time fills him with relief. Because Donghyuck being a little shit to him means their friendship has been restored to its original state. But he asks again “Know what?!”

“Dude, no offense or anything, but did you really think your parents can put your grandma in a private room all on their own?” Donghyuck asks.

Renjun stops a bit. He’d been so worried about the fact that his grandma’s life was hanging by a thread that he hadn’t even thought about the expenses part. He knows his grandma had a little bit in savings, but his parents for sure didn’t earn that much. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even realized that this was one of the nicer hospitals around.

“Fuck it, I’m really going to have to spell it out for you. Since your brain doesn’t seem to be working.” Donghyuck sighs dramatically.

“What?”

“Dude. This is Y/N’s parents’ hospital. Your mother couldn’t possibly keep taking care of your grandma all on her own, now could she? When Y/N found out, she went crazy. She made her parents direct all their best resources into taking care of your grandma.”

For a while, the information hangs in the air.

Renjun had thought that he would never get to feel things that were new and unexplainable ever again. He thought he had experienced every single feeling his body had to offer. The past month alone had put him through more emotions than he had experienced in his whole life. He had seen it all, felt it all.

But what he’s experiencing right now doesn’t feel like gratitude or shame or longing or anything one should expect to feel in a situation like this. It just feels like a soft light has filled his chest and is lifting him in the air. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s having an out of body experience.

“Oh,” is the only thing he can manage to say.

And then he remembers your face. He hadn’t realized it then, but he sees now how badly he had wanted to see you that night. He had wanted no one but you to hold him and kiss him and tell him that he wasn’t alone. And he remembers how he couldn’t tell you any of that. He remembers how you had walked away with another man.

And that makes him come back to earth. He feels a resigned sort of sadness.

“Y/N is… she would do that for anybody, wouldn’t she?” Renjun smiles sadly.

“She probably would. But you should’ve seen how worried she was. Even now, she is on the phone everyday with her parents, making sure they’re doing everything they can. She didn’t want what happened to her grandmother to happen to yours.” Donghyuck tells him.

Renjun looks up “What happened to her grandmother?”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “She passed away from Covid last year?” His eyebrows go higher still “She says she’s told you about this?”

Renjun thinks, and then it’s as if a veil on his memory is slowly but poorly being lifted. He remembers laying his head on your shoulder. He remembers feeling your shirt dampen from his tears. He remembers your fingers drawing relaxing patterns in his hair. He remembers your soothing voice, speaking to him with such tenderness that Renjun had barely heard your words and had focused instead on it’s sweet tones. But now, when Renjun is forcing himself to think, he very foggily recalls what you had been saying. You had been telling him about your own grandmother. Why hadn’t Renjun listened? Why did Renjun never listen when you spoke? He was such a selfish, arrogant fool. He wishes he could go back and change it all.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Are you really….” he sighs again, “Nevermind. But yeah, she basically went nuts because she couldn’t be here with you.”

Renjun’s heart is aching and he’s pretty sure his face reflects it. “I wish I could take it all back. Everything I did to her.”

“You can take it back.” Donghyuck says.

“How?”

“Apologize to her, you dummy.” Donghyuck smacks the back of his head.

“How? I tried calling her once but she didn’t pick up.” Renjun admits.

“Then you should call her again and again and again till it sticks.” Donghyuck says plainly and it makes so much fucking sense that Renjun is embarrassed that he hadn’t thought it.

“Yeah, but…” Renjun swallows, “... it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks.

“She’s with Wong Hendery now. So…” Renjun can’t even complete the thought.

“What do you mean she’s with Wong Hendery?” Donghyuck scrunches his brows deep in his forehead in confusion.

“She left with him for the semester break. I went to see her… but she left with him…” Renjun presses his lips together.

“Wait…” Donghyuck says and Renjun looks up and nods at him as if to confirm the fact. But he sees something entirely different on his friend’s face. It’s an expression of deep dumbfoundedness. “... are you some sort of an idiot?” He asks like Renjun is the dimmest person he has ever come across.

And Renjun doesn’t help his cause because he only blinks in return.

“Dude! She’s not ‘with Wong Hendery,’” Donghyuck gets up and smacks Renjun across the head once again. “They’re partners on the SMK Trainee Drive. She’s literally been preparing for this for months? Shouldn’t you know this?”

Renjun blinks some more. SMK Trainee Drive? Renjun had heard and personally seen you preparing for interviews and these drives. But somehow a lot of it hadn’t registered in his brain. Once again, probably because he never listened to you well. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

Yet right now, he was a smiling idiot whose heart was suddenly filling with hope. “She’s not… with… she’s not with Hendery?” Renjun is embarrassed. He feels so fucking stupid asking this, but he absolutely can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

“She’s literally at the tower right now. She’s been stuck because we went into lockdown whilst she was there. It’s why she couldn’t come and see you. But the highway doesn’t open for another week, so she’ll be stuck till then.” Donghyuck explains, and Renjun feels his heart exploding with joy at every word. He’s pretty sure he’s grinning shamelessly.

“Why do I know more about your girlfriend than you do? Oh wait. It's because 'she's not your girlfriend.’” Donghyuck does a perfectly exaggerated mimicry of Renjun that reminds him of that one SpongeBob meme. On a normal day, he would’ve wanted to smack his friend for doing this. But in this moment, he is all too happy to be the one being smacked and mocked.

Renjun laughs with relief, then finds his laugh fading a bit. “Do you think she’ll forgive me? For everything I did?”

“I don’t know, man. But you wouldn’t know unless you try.” Donghyuck once again states something that should be obvious.

“How do I try if she’s not picking up my calls? And when she won’t even be here for another week?” Renjun sulks a bit but gets smacked in the head again.

“Dude! She literally did everything in the world to help your grandma, and she was in a wholeass different city! She did that all for you! I’m sure you can figure out a simple apology.” Donghyuck has his arms crossed and is now seriously looking agitated with him and it makes Renjun smile.

“She really did that for me?” Renjun asks and he doesn’t even care if he sounds like a cheesy motherfucker. He doesn’t even care he’s being this way in front of Lee Donghyuck who probably won’t let him live it down for the rest of his life.

“Of course she did that for you, you idiot.” Renjun earns another smack at the end of that.

“Does she like me?” Renjun asks like a stupid, hopeful teenage boy.

Donghyuck pretends to gag and moves away in disgust. But then he sees Renjun’s expression and lets out a long, irritated exhale. “Of course she likes you, you dumb fuck.” Renjun gets hit in the head, “Why would she do all of this if she didn’t like you?” Renjun gets another smack, “Oh Lord, please give me the strength to not commit murder. I am not your strongest soldier…” Donghyuck looks up at the sky and Renjun laughs openly, freely and lightly. He feels as if all the knots in his chest are slowly being undone one by one. So he jumps up and tries to tackle and cuddle Donghyuck but he keeps moving away. The two boys run around in the ground, Renjun chasing Donghyuck, trying to attack him with his love while he complains that his hair smells.

And Renjun accepts all his insults with a newly healed heart. You liked him. Despite everything that he’d done to you, you liked him. You had worried about him and done everything in your power to help his grandma. You had kept tabs on her and made sure she was healing even though you were miles away. You liked him, and you weren’t with a new guy and you liked him.

As he walks back towards the hospital with his arm around his best friend’s shoulders, he decides that if it came to it that he had to beg and grovel for your forgiveness, he would happily spend the rest of his life on his knees. Because you liked him and Renjun was never going to let you go ever again.

True to his word (for maybe the first time in your relationship), Renjun spends the rest of the week trying to reach you. Because his apology tour wouldn’t be complete without his most important stop--you.

He calls you so many times; but each time, he only gets to hear the dial tone and the mechanical voice telling him that the user is unreachable at the moment. You never pick up.

But his mind and his spirit is fueled by Donghyuck’s advice, and this time, the advice is a lot more sound and a lot less exploitative. So, Renjun doesn’t give up because he has to make it stick. You had never given up on him. He wasn’t going to give up on you. When he’s sure you won’t pick up his calls, he leaves you a string of messages.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m trying to call you. Please pick up?’

‘I know you have every right to be mad at me, but I just need a chance to apologize.’

‘I’m seriously the biggest idiot in the world, but I need to tell you that in person.’

‘Okay, I’m coming to you.’

‘Turns out I can’t just negotiate with the police to let me cross the city lines to get to the girl I like.’

‘Y/N, please…’

‘I’m the world’s sorriest and the most embarrassed motherfucker and I need to hear your voice to tell you that.’

‘I am Berry-Berry sorry, and I’m just asking for one chance to get to talk to you.

‘I’m not going to stop, you know?’

He has to admit that his patience is wearing thin. Because he’s trying every method and none of it is working; and also because his pride had never allowed him to beg and grovel to anyone before. It’s a humbling experience, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel burdened by it. This was for you. The girl who had done everything in her power to make him fall. The girl who had given him more love and kindness than anyone else in the world had. The girl who had taken his troubles and worries as her own. So, of course, he had to do everything in his power to earn your forgiveness.

But as he’s sitting in his room, trying to call you for what he’s sure is the twentieth time that day, he hears that your phone has been powered off. For a moment, Renjun feels immensely dispirited. Maybe he had lost you for good. Maybe you never wanted to hear from him ever again. Maybe this is what he deserved.

But in the next moment, Renjun stops himself. No. He wasn’t going to let his mind spiral that way again. He had to think with a good, clear mind. He couldn’t sit around and sulk without knowing he had explored all possible options. He needed to get creative and for that, he needed to think.

He could certainly wait it out till the week was over and when you’d be back. But he wanted to spend each passing minute letting you know that he was trying. So, that wasn’t an option.

Maybe he could look at the map and find some loopholes and secret passageways across the city. Surely, some of them had to be unmanned so he could break the lockdown law and get to you? That would certainly be impactful, being locked up in jail as a grand gesture of an apology. But Renjun was no action hero.

Renjun sits and thinks and thinks and thinks till a light bulb finally goes off. Of course. A grand gesture. He yells into his pillow out of excitement and frustration that he hadn’t thought of this before. If one thing had been established during this time, it was the fact that Renjun was a dumb fuck with a penchant for being blind to the obvious.

He gets up bright and early the next morning and rushes to see your friend at her apartment. He sits beside her as her online class starts, away from the camera view and finds his heart filling with the utmost warmth as he sees your window finally appear on the screen. Even in the tiny box, you looked so freaking beautiful that for a minute, Renjun stops and stares as butterflies take over his belly. But he taps his cheek to get himself to focus. He was here on a mission.

He waits for the class to begin before he slides himself into view next to your friend and types out a message on the chat that had taken him all night to prepare. He hits ‘Send to Everyone’ and waits.

And thankfully, the professor--miraculously the same professor who had done this the very first time all that time ago--stops to read it out,

“This might be a long shot, but Y/N L/N, do you think you can find it in your heart to give me another chance?” he begins, squinting his eyes slightly in confusion as he reads on, then smiling as realization hits. “Well, that’s certainly not a question from Ms. Kim Minjeong, I can tell you that.” he jokes and waits because as it had before, this has piqued the students’ interest.

Renjun watches as your pretty eyes widen. He watches them skirt across your screen, seemingly looking for the cause of the commotion. He watches the moment of realization hitting your pretty face. And he waits.

“Well, Ms. Y/N L/N, are you going to put the young man out of his misery?” the professor jokes kindly and Renjun thinks he might die from the anticipation.

And then, he watches as you move to unmute yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I could give him another chance,” you say nonchalantly which earns you a round of applause and hoots from all other windows. Because college students will always love dramatic antics.

The professor calls the class back to attention and Renjun sits back in his chair, grinning like an idiot because the girl he had fallen for had given him another chance.

#renjun fic #renjun angst #renjun fluff #kpopscape #ficscafe #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #huang renjun #renjun #nct dream #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct college au #renjun x reader #we met in online class

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ririchanva · 3 years ago

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Summary: Marinette gains a new ally in a student from Japan, although he’s not what he seems. Lila makes her move, proving to Marinette that her threat is real. But what she didn’t count on, was that Marinette would have a few friends that has her back. Although they are the most unexpected people. When Lila pushes too far by getting Marinette and her friends expelled, there is a certain hero that lends a hand. But wait? BECOME STUDENTS OF U.A.?

Chapter Ten: The Battle of Miraculous (Part Two)

░❇┊Previous┊❇ ░ ❇┊Next┊❇ ░ ❇┊Masterlist┊❇ ┊AO3 ┊❇░

░❇ Buy Me Some Coffee~? ❇░

Chapter Warning: Blood, violence, character deaths (past) and spoilers.

A/n: Okay...I know I took a REALLY long hiatus. This is because I finished Season 5 (waiting for Season 6 which is where the real stuff begins) AND practically got to see World Heroes Mission. Which...as you can tell, I love way more than Heroes Rising (even though we all it’s because of Rody). But anyways. Part 2 is here. HOPEFULLY now that I also Finished Season 4 of Miraculous (God it was a trainwreck that ended perfectly, but as I’ve said, the story ain’t following canon but it did call out things I already sort of predicted), I can update regularly and make more content on this so I can get this FINISHED FOR ONCE. Can I actually finish a story COMPLETELY?!

...Anyways, on with the chapter~!

Aizawa narrowed his eyes as he held his arm out in front of Amelie, stoping her from going to the front door.

Someone was waiting for them on the other side.

“What should we do?” Amelie asked, as the dark haired man was looking at the windows.

“We run to the back. Felix?”

“The boy could handle himself. He’s a blackbelt and all,” Amelie winked, assuring a frowning Aizawa, “Oh don’t look at me like that~! Do you actually think I would’ve left my son alone in the car if I didn’t have him fully prepared for anything~?“

“…Sometimes you scare me, Hime.”

“And you worry too much~ As always, Minou~”

The two soon were rushing to the back of the house as soon as there was a sudden booming noise at the door, sounding like someone was trying to break the door down. They managed to make it to the back garden of the Agreste Manor, used the secret backdoor and exited to the back streets. Before they could take a breather, they noticed that there were blue monster like creatures coming their way.

Aizawa narrowed his eyes, but soon was wrapping his arm around the blonde’s waist and used his capture weapon to hoist themselves onto a rooftop. The two looked down, seeing the creatures were growling and snarling, looking around for them.

“Do we have to wait here?” Amelie asked with a frown, watching the creatures just stalking around the streets.

Aizawa frowned deeply.

“We just might have to…”

Amelie blinked as she felt a vibration in her purse, opening it and reading the contents of the screen. She sighed in relief, tapping on Aizawa’s shoulder and showed him the text. Felix was apparently safe, having escaped the car to hide somewhere for now and out of sight from anyone.

“At least he was smart enough to get out of dodge,” The erasure quirk user hummed, but then looked back to see that Mayura following behind the monsters, also looking around, “And it looks like the creatures are being led by that woman.”

“Then we should follow her,” Amelie replied coolly, as she was pulling something else out from her purse, smirking a little, “And kick some arse.”

Aizawa gave a look, shaking his head.

“Ame, no.”

“Ame, yes.”

“We don’t know what this woman is capable of. What if she’s a quirk user?” Aizawa asked but Amelie shook her head.

“She’s not a quirk user. She’s a Miraculous holder.”

Aizawa’s eyes widened, “Are…are you sure? Wait, how can you tell she is one?”

Amelie bit her lower lip as she was soon was placing on what seemed to be some sunglasses, tapping at the side of the frame as the lenses started to glow. After a few seconds, she removed them and placed them over Aizawa’s eyes.

“There.”

Amelie pointed forward, making Aizawa enhance on the sunglasses like binoculars, showing the woman having a strange brooch on her chest. Aizawa let out a tiny gasp in surprise, already knowing that trinket was no ordinary jewellery.

He should know, after all.

“The Peacock?”

The blonde woman nodded, “Definitely. Meaning, I might know who that woman is.”

This got the underground hero’s attention as he then looked troubled.

If it’s true that Amelie knows the identity of the woman holding the Peacock Miraculous, this would mean they would be a step closer finding out who Hawkmoth was.

He’ll have to tell Marinette about this once this was all over with.

“What’s the plan?” Aizawa asked as he handed the specs back to Amelie, who was already placing on what seem to be thermal like gloves.

“Now?” Amelie was grinning wildly as sparks were coming out from the palm of her gloves, winking, “We fight! And get that brooch back~!”

Rose and Juleka sat on the couch with wide eyes, Marinette breathing out after letting out everything she needed to get out. Now, they knew. And the Ladybug holder was waiting for their reaction.

Juleka was the first to speak, slowly grinning as she looked up to Marinette, “…Awesome.”

Adrien snickered.

Juleka tilted her head, pointing to him, “Chat Noir?”

“That’s right,” Adrien nodded.

“And then….Ladybug?”

Marinette nodded her head as well.

“This…this is so much to take in,” Rose breathed out, but then gasped, “So is Hito also…?”

Marinette nodded again.

Rose placed her hands over her mouth as her eyes widened, realising the danger that Shinso was in and choked back a worried whimper.

“But we will get him back! Him and Nino both.” Marinette said in determination, as everyone in the room also looked ready for battle.

“So what’s the plan?” Rose asked as she then glanced at Izuku, “Monsieur Usadori—“

“You can just call me Izuku, Rose-san,” The green haired male chirped happily, making Rose giggled.

“Right, um, Izuku just told me and Juleka to help him get the Turtle Miraculous…”

Marinette looked confused, “Why just the Turtle? Why not get the Horse too?”

Izuku tutted, “That’s a secret~”

She was starting to hate the secret keeping from people.

…Now she understood Adrien’s frustrations about that.

“God, I hate secrets,” Adrien was pouting with folded arms, “I thought we’d be done and over with all the secrets.”

Izuku gave a small smile, his eyes having a cheeky glint to them.

Alix clicked her fingers, gaining everyone’s attention, “So, what’s the plan now? Who’s gonna use the Turtle if not Nino?”

“Oh! That’s easy!”

Izuku was looking to Nathaniel and walked over, holding it up to him while giving a wide grin.

Nathaniel blinked slowly as he stared at the bracelet in surprise for a moment. Once his brain clicked, his eyes slowly widened, snapping his gaze to Izuku, then back to the bracelet.

“…M-Me?”

Izuku nodded, “You.”

Nathaniel shook his head, “B-But Master Fu is giving me the Goat—“

“Nope. You’re the Turtle Hero now~”

“But—“

“No take backs~! That’s final~!”

Izuku kept pushing the bracelet back to the frantic red head every time Nathaniel was trying to give it back to the rabbit hero, shaking his head while looking nervous. There was no way that he could replace Nino!

Master Fu smiled softly as he watched the two’s exchange, but decided to break up their childish back and forth bickering. Stepping over to them, he took the Miraculous. Nathaniel sighed in relief, thinking that maybe Fu was going to suggest himself to take the Miraculous back or even place it back in the box…until Fu was grabbing the red head’s hand and placing the bracelet onto his palm.

“M-Master, no…” Nathaniel argued weakly, feeling his fingers curled over the bracelet.

Fu shook his head, “I believe in Izuku’s words. Things happen for a reason. And I do believe my words from when we met ring true…”

Nathaniel recalled on Fu’s words, looking down at the bracelet in his hand.

Was he really worthy to take the mantle?

Pursing his lips, the boy soon placed the bracelet onto his wrist, watching the Miraculous shine with Wyazz appearing before him andfloating in front of him.

“Greetings, Nathaniel~! I hope we can get along, my friend!” The Turtle Kwami bowed his head to the young man, who was giving a shy smile and bowed his head in return.

“The honour is mine.” Alix was bouncing in her steps, jumping onto Izuku’s back and making the green haired male easily catch her legs, hooked them under his arms so she wouldn’t fall back while she hugged around his neck.

“Me next! Me next! What’s my Miraculous?” She chirped in excitement, eyes sparkling.

Marinette gaped at him, but soon was waving her hands around frantically. It was almost comical.

“Hey! What made him decide who gets what Miraculous all of a sudden? Hitoshi said he wasn’t to be Guardian!” She even whirled around to the calm looking Fu, “Master Fu!”

“Things happen for a reason, Marinette.”

Marinette almost felt like bashing her head in at him repeating his words. Why was the old man smiling at a time like this?! Was he hearing himself?!

Izuku looked thoughtful as Alix kept poking and asking him which Miraculous would she get, but then the green haired male walked over to the Miracle Box, Alix still latched onto him. He looked to Fu, who was nodding his head and opened the Miracle Box for him. The green haired hero was soon reaching into the box and held up the Snake Bracelet for Alix to see. The girl’s eyes shined.

“Siiiiick. This mine?”

Izuku nodded.

Alix got off his back and took the bracelet easily, placing onto her wrist as Sass appeared in a blink of an eye.

“Greetings, my new holder! I am Sass, The Kwami of Intuition~” The snake Kwami nodded his head to Alix, who grinned as she lifted a finger for him as a high-five.

“Nice to meet you, little dude!” Alix greeted happily, then letting Sass rest on her shoulder.

Sabrina was the next to step up, tapping onto Izuku’s shoulder and making the male looked back at her.

“What…w-what about me?” She asked, poking her fingers together.

Izuku softened. He glanced over at Chloe for a moment. The male gave a small smile seeing how she was nodding her head at him with a serious look.

Humming, he pulled out the Bee Miraculous from his pocket, holding it out to Sabrina. Everyone’s eyes widened with a small gasp, looking to Chloe then back to Izuku and Sabrina. Sabrina was shaking a bit, almost snapping her neck when she whirled to Chloe with protests.

But Chloe held her hand up.

“I had a talk with Pollen and she agrees with me that this is for the best…”

She gestured for Sabrina to come closer, giving a small smile as Izuku was also coming forward to hand Sabrina the Miraculous.

“Sabrina, you…you’ve been at my side for a long time. And…I haven’t treated you fairly,”

“Oh Chloe—“

“It’s true though. I have been a shitty friend and I don’t think so many apologies are good enough,” The blonde continued on even with Sabrina looking teary eyed at her, Chloe then taking her hands and squeezed them, “Shinso was right. About how being Queen Bee might be a problem. I never deserved the role in the first place. It should go to someone that’s going to be even better than I. And Sabrina, it is your time to shine as the true Bee Heroine.“

Izuku looked approving at this.

“She’s right. Sabrina-san, you’ve worked harder than anyone else here!” He boldly stated with a huge grin, “You should have more confidence in yourself!”

Sabrina looked at the two for a moment before she looked down at the Bee Miraculous. Glowing in her hand, Pollen appeared before her and bowed her tiny head cutely before smiling.

“Greetings Queen Sabrina. I am at your service~”

“Pollen, she’s your Queen now. No need for the formalities like that.” Chloe chided before Pollen shook her head.

“Believe what you want, my Queen. I can have many Queens in this lifetime and the next, but none of them will be you.”

Chloe felt touched as she was turning her head away, trying not to show she was going to cry.

Sabrina, however, was outright sobbing as she cradled the hairpin to her chest, touched. How in the world did she end up being trusted with something so powerful and precious? And the fact that Chloe finally acknowledged her as an equal…it was the best feeling in the world.

Breathing out, she placed the hairpin onto her hair as it blended with her hair band.

Chloe nodded in approval and turned to Izuku.

“I suppose you’re giving me the Tiger Miraculous, right?” She said in a huff, having her hand out, “Well then, you may give it to me—“

“Actually, I have another Miraculous that’s perfect for you, Chloe-san.”

He was soon pulling out a familiar Miraculous and Marinette felt her stomach drop.

“Where—“

Chloe was smirking now, snatching it off Izuku’s hands and cackled a little, “Oh the delicious irony~”

Marinette was reaching to grab at Izuku’s arm, looking furious.

“Are you trying to make this into a bloodbath?!”

Izuku smiled mysteriously as he winked, “Don’t worry~ I think this will tide the battle into our favour~”

Lila sighed in boredom, laying onto Izuku’s bed as some time passed, arms folded and staring at the ceiling.

It honestly sucked that she was just stuck here with nothing to do. There was only so little she could do in the room. She was so bored, that she had to go snooping around the boy’s room and entertain herself. She had found a lot of his notebooks, getting a lot of information pretty quickly, knowing stuff about school and the people he knew.

And now? She was thirsty.

Getting up, she made her way to the door, unlocking and then opened it slightly to peek outside. The hallway was dark and empty, no sign of life. Good. She could maybe go down to see if there was a kitchen and grab for a drink, then come back up before anyone would notice.

Being careful, Lila was stepping out slowly and quietly, closing the door behind her. She walked down the hall to find the stairs, going down to the main living space.

And no one on sight.

Green eyes kept looking around in alert, just so she wouldn’t get caught by anyone. And it was going pretty well as she finally found the kitchen, thankful that she had good sight to see in the dark.

But her luck was about to run out.

“Who are you?”

Almost jumping out of her skin, Lila whirled around to see an angry red eyed blond boy snarling at her, hands raised as sparks of explosions were coming out of his palms?

Lila thought of running away, but knew that it would be foolish considering the guy looked like he was going to jump her for trying. So she was going to do what she does best.

Bullshit her way out of this mess.

Giving her best sweet smile, she was twirling her braid with an innocent look while she talked slowly in English the best she could.

“Oh~! S-sorry I was just thirsty and Izuku wasn’t back yet—“

The boy looked confused for a second, but soon his Japanese switched to English as he narrowed his eyes, “You know Deku?”

Ah, so he can talk normally.

Deku?

Izuku did write about a childhood friend named Katsuki Bakugo, also known as “Kacchan”. Deku was a name that this childhood friend chose.

Lila was nodding her head, batting her eyes, “Yes~! Izuku is my boyfriend and I had kinda sneaked into the dorms because we never seemed to have time together. I mean after all, this is my first time travelling here to Japan just to visit him. We’ve been emailing back and forth for almost a year now, you know~?”

The blond narrowed his eyes as the girl smiled while she talked, but he could sense that there was something wrong with her.

He didn’t believe her for a second.

“Nice try, Wienerdog. Who are you really? A villain?”

Maybe this was that Toga chick from the League?

“Bakubro? You’re a bit early, aren’t ya?”

Bakugo and Lila turned to see Kirishima standing by the door, tilting his head curiously.

“Who’s this?” The Hardening Hero asked, jerking his thumb to Lila, “A new student?”

“An intruder that claims she’s that nerd’s girlfriend.” Bakugo narrowed his eyes as he glanced back at Lila.

Kirishima’s eyes widened, knowing who Bakugo was referring to.

“What? For real?”

Although when he saw the girl’s attire, he felt his cheeks warming for a second, looking sort of embarrassed as he averted his eyes away.

Bakugo looked confused for a moment before the red head pointed it out.

“The girl’s wearing Mido-bro’s clothes. Maybe she’s telling the truth.”

“Tch,” Bakugo growled, rolling his eyes, “Fine. Let’s find out if she’s telling the truth. Call Deku down.”

Lila felt her stomach drop but kept her cool as she hummed, “Izuku isn’t here at the moment. I kinda told him that I was craving for ice cream and being the sweetheart that he is, he just ended up sneaking out to buy some. Isn’t he like, the best boyfriend ever~?”

Kirishima noticed how she spoke, noting the accent.

He knew English well. It was one of the subjects he aced a lot, thanks to the lessons from Present Mic. So he switched over to talk to her in the same wavelength. It almost helped Fatgum and Amajiki were both multi-lingual so Kirishima knew a thing or two.

“Are you from Europe?” Taking a shot in the dark, Kirishima spoke in French, making Lila’s eyes widened.

“You speak French?”

The red head cheered fo a moment before he chuckled, “How did Mido-bro end up with a pretty foreign girlfriend hm?“

Bakugo just stared at them in annoyance, honestly ticked that he couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“Are you really Midoriya’s girlfriend?“ Kirishima asked, still in French, making Lila smile sweetly once more.

“I am~ You sound like you don’t believe me~?”

“You have to admit, a guy like him don’t really focus on romance as much as any normal male teen. He wants to be a hero, just like the rest of us. So, sorry if it’s unmanly of us to be suspicious, a-and don’t mind Baku-bro. He’s angry cuz Mido-bro is keeping secrets from him and thought he was acting weird all week.” Kirishima explained as he nodded his head to Bakugo, then continued, “So I suppose you won’t mind that I call Mido-bro’s cellphone?”

“What are you guys saying, Shitty Hair?” Bakugo growled in Japanese as his best friend looked over at the blond.

Reverting back to Japanese, KIrishima was pulling out his cellphone as he explained.

“I’m calling Midoriya to confirm her words. If she’s telling the truth, then she’ll have no problems with it…”

Lila was praying that the phone call doesn’t go through.

“—So are we good with the plan?”

Ladybug was looking around at the dressed Miraculous Team, her eyes serious. She was already making a move to go about taking down Hawkmoth and the growing army that he had Sombre Swift create, not to mention how to deal with the portals that she somehow created thanks to the Horse Miraculous.

Chat Noir was nodding his head, “Ready as always, Ladybug—“

“A phonecall is here! A phonecall is here! A phonecall is here! A phonecall—”

Usadori jumped at the ringtone and looked down at his communicator of an umbrella and pressed onto it, leaning into the speaker, “Er, hello?”

“Mido-bro! It’s Kiri!”

The bunny hero blinked as he glanced up at his teammates for a moment before looking back down at his communicator of an umbrella handle.

“Er, h-hey Kiri-kun? What’s up?”

“I know you must be out considering your girlfriend said that you want to get ice cream for her, really manly by the way! Very chivalrous of you. But we just wanted to make sure that you know that we found her wandering in the dorm kitchen. Bakugo almost killed her thinking she was an intruder.”

Usadori felt himself sigh, kinda predicting that someone would’ve eventually found out about her. He just didn’t expect it to be his childhood friend and Kirishima of all people.

“Ah, y-yeah. Sorry about that. I told her that she should’ve stayed put in my room until I got back.”

“…So she really is your girlfriend then? Damn nerd…”

Usadori smiled as he heard the unsure voice from Bakugo.

“Yup~! Lila and I have been penpals for a long time. When she surprised me that day I was going meeting up with All Might, it shocked me to say the least. Especially when I found out she had no place to stay so I snuck her into U.A. and let her sleep in my room.”

Ladybug raised a brow as Usadori spoke in Japanese, wondering what he was saying. Although she somehow knew it wasn’t good.

“Oh wow! I guess your behaviour for the past weeks make sense now. Kinda the same way that you somehow knew some kids from another hero school aboard!”

Usadori felt bad for lying to his friends, but it had to be done.

“But seriously, dude? You have her wearing your clothes? That’s…kinda suggestive, isn’t it? Not that I’m saying that isn’t manly or anything but—”

Chat Noir choked on his spit as he was the closest to Usadori and heard that (Thank god, he knew Japanese as one of the languages he was learning besides Chinese), whipping his head to look at the blushing bunny hero before Usadori stuttered in embarrassment.

“I-it’s not what you think!”

Kirishima’s nervous laugh echoed through the receiver along with Bakugo’s growls.

“You better get back here soon, nerd.”

“He’s right, surprisingly. Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone else. Especially to Present Mic.”

Right. Usadori knew that Eraserhead was here in Paris, so Present Mic was filling in during his absence. He’ll have to look for him anyways later.

“Thanks you, guys. Could you please get my girlfriend on the phone?”

Chat Noir was glancing at Ladybug while mouthing “girlfriend?” to his partner, as Ladybug shrugged, not getting what was being said.

Usadori had a calm smile as he heard Lila’s voice, then said tightly with an aura of danger in his tone, speaking in clear French.

“You are in so much trouble when I get back. Please do not go out of the room anymore and /call/ me when you need something, okay?”

Somehow everyone in the room sort of shuddered at Usadori’s tone.

Not waiting for her reply, the Rabbit Hero hung up the cal and looked to Ladybug.

“So, the plan?”

“Oh!” Ladybug snapped out of it and nodded, “Right, so let’s go over it one more time before we go—”

Kirishima hung up the phone and looked over to Lila, looking apologetic, “Your story checks out. Sorry about that. Sometimes as future heroes, we tend to be caution of things. Especially when strangers just appear out of nowhere in a heroes’ dorm room.”

Lila was mentally relieved, but kept up her sweet act with a cute smile.

“Well it’s okay. I know my Izuku can be protective thus why he’s kinda kept me a secret. You two will keep me a secret too, won’t you~?”

“Of course. Don’t worry, we won’t tell,” The red haired hero in training glanced at a glaring Bakugo and nudged him, “Right, Baku-bro?”

The blond stared at Lila a few more seconds before grunting, hands shoved into his jogging pants pockets and stomped out of the kitchen. Kirishima smiled and let Lila get her water before escorting her back to Midoriya’s room, telling her goodnight before going to his own room and Bakugo went to his own, glaring at Lila as he went off.

Lila locked the door and sighed, leaning her back against the wall as she closed her eyes.

That was a close one.

The plan was simple.

Wyvern, Usadori and Duchess Dormouse were to go in the frontlines and take down the army, creating a path towards Sombre Swift.

That’s where the new Fox Heroine, Vix Filou, comes in.

She along with the new Bee Heroine, Calliopsini, shall go up against Sombre Swift and get the Horse Miraculous back along with closing the portals.

Both the new Snake and Turtle heroes, Leviathan and Pridwen, are the last resort.

Master Fu was going to be hidden safely elsewhere as the battle goes on.

As for Ladybug and Chat Noir…

“You shall take down Hawkmoth and Mayura using your Lucky Charm and Cataclysm….as always….” Usadori hummed as he folded his arms, tilting his head, “If I may, could I place somewhat of an input to your plan?”

Ladybug shook her head, “We don’t have time to change it. We shall go for this plan first. If something goes wrong, Leviathan could bring us back to the start of this moment.”

Usadori’s ears twitched for a moment, narrowing his eyes with a frown.

“I agree with Ladybug. This is a solid-proof plan. Not only will we save the day and not just get the Horse back, but finally get the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous too! We’ll finally stop the reign of Hawkmoth and Mayura once and for all!” Chat Noir exclaimed, looking excited for this fight, “After all this time…we’re actually going to do it this time! And find out who’s under those masks!”

Usadori looked uncomfortable for a moment, but eventually nodded his head slowly.

“Well…okay…”

“Good. Now let’s get going, Levi, be ready to use second chance once we arrive at the battle field, okay?”

“Right on, Ladybug!” The Snake user gave a thumbs up and a wink, grinning from ear to ear.

Ladybug breathed out softly as she closed her eyes, feeling both nervous but determined to win this fight.

She just wished that it wasn’t against her former best friend.

A cackle escaped Sombre Swift as she appeared back in Paris, looking behind her as an evil glint shined in her eyes. A bunch of people looking and walking like zombies followed behind her, growing by the numbers.

“This might get their attention~“

The fox like villainess smirked as she then was looking at the dazed Nino, grabbing for his leg and dangling him from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

“LADYBUG! CHAT NOIR! IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE ANYMORE PEOPLE HURT, THEN I SUGGEST YOU COME OUT AND STOP BEING COWARDS….OTHERWISE IT’S BYE BYE TO THIS IDIOT OF A CHEATER~”

She was shaking Nino for a moment as the boy was limp in her grip.

Hawkmoth just smirked as he watched, looking at the city now overrun with Swift’s army growing as more people were coming out from the portals.

“Soon, the city will be under our control. And Ladybug and Chat Noir have to come and stop Sombre Swift. And once she defeats them, I’m one step closer into getting my wish~!” He then closed his eyes, having a satisfied smile, “We’re almost there Emilie…”

He opened his eyes when he heard a whizzing sound, smirking.

The whizzing of a yo-yo.

They were here.

Ladybug was leading the charge as a lot of Miraculous heroes were following her lead.

Hawkmoth felt his smile widening in greed.

With more Miraculous in hand, he can guarantee to take them for his mission.

He just had to call Mayura back.

…

Although when he tried to feel her, he somehow felt nothing.

Where was Mayura?

Aizawa smirked as he placed his goggles over his eyes after taking down some Sentimonsters, sort of thankful that his quirk could be used against them. It was surprising, but then again, he was going to take them down even if his quirk didn’t work.

He turned his head as he spotted Amelie gracefully flipping over a monster, used her vinyl gloves and shocked the monster into submission, then was quickly taking down another one. Pride swelled in Aizawa as he watched her go, it was as if she never changed…like they were high school again.

“Heads up, Eraser!” Amelie yelled as she was using her electro gloves to shock the monster that was sneaking behind Aizawa, watching it fall to the ground, “You gotta be careful!”

The shaggy haired man looked over at the blonde, grinning a bit as he managed to use his capture weapon to grab the monster behind her, flipping it away from her and hitting it against a wall.

“Speak for yourself.” He teased gruffly, but then noticed movement at the corner of his eye.

The very same woman controlling these monsters was getting away!

“I’ll grab her! You deal with these monsters!” Amelie yelled as she was chasing after Mayura before Aizawa could say anything, and the man felt his heart drop.

“Amelie, no!”

He was going to go after her when a portal suddenly opened in front of him and he was face to face with a—

“Nomu?!”

Said Nomu was screeching at his face angrily and made it’s attack against Eraserhead.

Meanwhile, Amelie was trying to keep up with catching up to the Peacock Villainess, having to jump over obstacles and such when Mayura was speeding up and heading to jump rooftop to rooftop. She pressed onto her bracelet as a grappling cable shot out, Amelie hoisting herself up to the top of the buildings and following after her.

Thank god she worked the core of her body with fun parkour and mountain climbing skills with Felix. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to do all these things.

Amelie skidded to a halt when Mayura made an inhumanly impossible jump from one building to another, and the blonde woman frowned. Taking a deep breath, she was soon backing away for a moment, then made the quick run. Bracing herself, she soon made the jump, pressing onto her bracelet as she grappled onto a building and swung herself the rest of the way there.

She was so close to Mayura, she ended up leaping up in the air and tackled the woman down before she made another jump. Amelie struggled to pin Mayura down, but eventually got to swiping at the brooch on the woman’s chest. A bubbling mist surrounded the woman, revealing Nathalie Sancoeur.

“I knew it.” Amelie said in finality, her eyes narrowing, “Which means Hawkmoth is—“

“You won’t stop him.” Nathalie interrupted with a deadpan look, her own eyes staring up at Amelie knowingly, “Nothing will stop him for making his wish.”

“…By getting Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”

Nathalie nodded as Eraserhead appeared behind Amelie, listening in.

Amelie growled, “He won’t get his wish. Whatever it is, it will backfire.”

“Even if the wish was bringing your sister back?”

This caught Aizawa’s attention. But once he saw Amelie was raising a fist, the man swiftly pulled the British woman off Nathalie before she could do damage. However, this movement made Nathalie grab for the Peacock Miraculous back. Aizawa and Amelie both reached forward to grab it back from her, but their eyes widened when a small glowing portal appeared between them. A gloved hand reached out and snatched the Miraculous from the three adults, pulling back into the portal as it vanished.

Nathalie paled as both Aizawa and Amelie looked at each other in confusion.

Usadori stared at Peacock Miraculous in hand.

‘I actually have it. Good thing I looked into the future to see that Aizawa-sensei was with Mayura. But it was even more surprising he wasn’t alone.’

Glancing at the battlefield, he could already see that Ladybug and Chat Noir were already heading to Hawkmoth. Vix Filou and Calliopsini were already going head to head with Sombre Swift while Wyvern and Duchess Dormouse were backing them up.

That was…until Shinsou came into the battlefield.

Usadori frowned as he looked down at the brooch once more.

Colors of blue and white appeared in his field of vision, his instinct of the Miraculous taking over. His instinct pointed him to the brooch, then to Chat Noir…but there was something missing. But what?

Meanwhile, down below in the battlefield, Duchess Dormouse paused in fighting a zombified Kagami when Hitoshi Shinsou appeared in her field of vision. Frozen in place, the Mouse heroine stared at the blank face of the purple haired male readying his capture weapon.

He…

….He has never looked at her so…so coldly before.

Wyvern looked up as she spotted her partner in some sort of shock, her eyes widened as Shinsou was making his way to attack. The Dragoness growled, soon leaping over the pawns and went to kick Shinso away, snapping Duchess Dormouse out of her daze.

“Wyvern…”

The Dragon heroine looked over at the mouse like girl, nodding her head once and went to fight some more enemies. This caused Duchess Dormouse to get her head in the game, but not before glancing at a now unconscious Shinso.

‘I’ll be back for you. I promise.’

As that was happening, Calliopsini caught Nino in her arms when Sombre Swift made the drop, placing the dazed boy to the side for now. And the new Bee Heroine had to watch as the new Fox and the previous Fox were now fighting against one another.

“I’ve waited for this day to come, Cesaire. The day that I get to hit you where it hurts!” Vix Filou laughed breathlessly as she was swinging her flute like a bo-staff, watching how the former Fox Heroine turned villainess was growling at her, “How does it feel to be replaceable~?”

Sombre Swift’s eyes turned into daggers as she screamed out in frustration, going to attack Vix Filou.

“My name is SOMBRE SWIFT!” The villainess yelled as she was slashing her own dark flute at the blonde fox, “And /I/ am the best and ONLY fox! You’re just a placeholder until I get my hands on Ladybug AND /MY/ MIrACULOUS!“

“Oooh~! I’m soooo scared~“ Vix Filou mocked as she flipped back from an attack, and dodged the next one boredly, “Face it, you’ll never get to be a Miraculous wielder again. Not after this stupid stunt you pulled.”

A strangled growl came from the former Fox user, as she was going for the attack once more.

Calliopsini wanted to use her Venom, but knew that she was still new to this. If she used her ability, her timer on her Miraculous would start counting down. That, and she had to save it for Hawkmoth when Ladybug needs her.

Turning her head to Nino, her eyes darkened for a moment as instinct kicked in. Pursing her lips, she soon was using her spinning top and was wrapping it around Nino securely. Soon she jumped up in the air, dragging Nino with her.

Maybe she could bring him to Master Fu.

As that was happening, both Chat Noir and Ladybug were jumping over enemies, making a beeline to Hawkmoth standing on top of the Eiffel Tower.

“This is it, Bug,” Chat Noir said as he used his bo-staff to pole vault up while Ladybug used her yo-yo to swing herself up, “We’re fighting Hawkmoth and this time, we’re gonna win and take the Butterfly Miraculous back!”

Ladybug nodded as she took a deep breath.

“Yes. You and me, Chat.”

Chat Noir grinned, “I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

The two reached to the top, landing gracefully a few feet away from a confident smirking Hawkmoth.

“Your reign is over, Hawkmoth!” Ladybug pointed her finger at him, narrowing her eyes, “Better give up now, because today we will defeat you!”

A deep evil laugh came from the man, throwing his head back before he then gave a sinister grin.

“You think that, wouldn’t you, Ladybug? Well, too bad for you, you’re not the only one with an army,” He stretched his arms out, “Thanks to my latest akuma, I SHALL NOT ONLY TAKE YOURS AND CHAT NOIR MIRACULOUS, BUT YOUR FRIENDS TOO!”

“LUCKY CHARM!”

Ladybug yelled as she was throwing her yo-yo up in the air, the magical ladybugs appearing to give the lucky charm. Ladybug blinked as she caught the object in hand…and her eyes widened.

“…A feather?”

Hawkmoth cackled once more, “What are you going to do with that, hm? Ladybug?”

Ladybug looked around for a moment, biting her lower lip as she couldn’t see anything to use with the Lucky Charm.

It was then that Usadori came in through his burrow, his eyes narrowed.

Hawkmoth stared at the Rabbit Hero for a moment then his eyes had a shining glint.

Usadori was soon grabbing Chat Noir and vanished once more, leading to Ladybug’s stomach dropping.

“What…?”

But she snapped out just in time to block Hawkmoth’s attack with his cane.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Usadori let go of Chat Noir once they were back in Master Fu’s, almost shocking the said man, Leviathan and Pridwen. The Rabbit Hero ignored the cat’s growls and demands as he then grabbed for his hand, taking the ring and let Chat Noir turn back into Adrien Agreste.

“Wha—?”

“There’s not time. Fluff, Counter-Clockwise,” Usadori transformed back into Izuku as Fluff appeared floating beside him, “We’re gonna have to change up the plan.”

“But Ladybug—?”

“Will be fine on her own for now. But I need you to take this!”

And thus Izuku was holding up the Peacock Miraculous.

Master Fu looked appalled.

“How did you get that?” He asked as Izuku smiled.

“I caught it from Mayura when she was fighting with Eraserhead and another woman. But let’s leave that for now,” Turning back to Adrien, he took the other’s hand and placed the Peacock Miraculous into his hand, “Let Master Fu fix this up and you use it. All you have to say to Duusu is Duusu, Showoff Feathers!”

“Show—” Adrien was cut off as Usadori placed a hand over his mouth from accidentally transforming right there and then, nodding.

“Yes, say that so you don’t turn evil, I should think? At least that’s to my knowledge a lot of transformation callout spells have different terms?” Izuku shrugged as he placed the Cat Ring onto his finger, “So catch up with us when you’re ready.”

“B-But what about the Cat Miraculous?” Adrien asked, balking as Izuku was feeding Fluff before transforming into Usadori again, “Ladybug can’t defeat Hawkmoth without the Cat…right?”

“That is usually the case, yes.” Usadori stretched his arms out for a moment before looking thoughtful, “…But I might know a temporary person to wield Plagg for now as you be the new Peacock Hero~”

“M-Me?” Adrien gaped at him before looking down at the brooch in hand before looking back at Rabbit Hero, “Why me?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Usadori said mysteriously before he was looking to Master Fu, “I know there’s a spell that fixes a broken Miraculous,”

“Y-Yes…indeed there is,” Master Fu nodded as he was bringing his tablet out, as Usadori was opening a burrow and then was stepping in.

“Good, now I shall return with the new Cat Holder~”

And he soon vanished.

Lila saw a glowing light appear near her and sat up from the bed, seeing Usadori coming in, the portal closing behind him.

“Finally!” Lila breathed out as the boy de-transformed back into Izuku, “I thought you’d never come back.”

“Of course I was gonna come back. But I’m afraid that things are taking longer than expected,” Izuku explained as he was pulling out his phone and started texting, “So you’re gonna have to stay for a few more hours.”

“What?!” The Italian girl looked appalled, “What about my Mama? She’s gonna wonder where I am!”

“You’re a good liar, just lie,” Izuku said before he then felt her stare, and blinked, “…What?”

“You’re encouraging me to lie to my Mom? When you said I should stop lying?” Lila said deadpanned.

Izuku looked sheepish before then giving an uncharacteristic smirk.

“Would you rather tell her the truth~? That you’re miles away from home and in a boy’s room wearing HIS clothes~?”

Lila opened her mouth, before closing it with a huff, “And you call me slick?”

“I didn’t call you slick. I said you’re too clever.”

“Same thing.”

Izuku held up a finger before he heard a hard knock on his door before he walked over to it, opening it to reveal—

“So you gonna tell me the truth now, nerd?”

Izuku just smiled calmly as he let Bakugo in, while Lila was staring with utter shock.

“Hey Kacchan. I can’t really explain everything but I do need your help~“

“As always, Deku. Geez, what trouble did you get yourself into now?” Bakugo raised a brow before he was glancing at Lila, “So she’s not your girlfriend?”

Izuku felt his face flush before smiling sheepishly, “No. But she is a friend and needs to stay here for safety reason. But that’s not the reason you’re here!”

“So what is it?”

Izuku smiled happily before he was holding out a silver ring, making Bakugo stare at him for a moment.

“…You proposing?” Bakugo asked with a smirk before Izuku pouted at him.

“I’m not proposing, Kacchan!” Izuku whined before he coughed, then spoke in a serious tone, “Katsuki Bakugo, this is the Miraculous of the Cat, that will grant you the power of Destruction. I am asking you to join me to fight evil that’s happening in Paris.”

Lila stood up before she was tugging at Izuku’s ear, “You have Chat Noir’s Miraculous?! How did you manage that?!”

“That’s kinda a secret. But as I said, there’s not much time to explain,” Izuku winced at being pinched as he made Lila release him before looking to his childhood friend, “So can you help me?”

Bakugo snorted, turning away before he started walking to the door.

“I don’t have time for your stupid nonsense, Deku. Whatever shit you’re going through, deal with it yourself. This was worse than finding out about One—“

He then blinked when he heard Izuku say something, then a flash and suddenly a blue, black and white rabbit suited male stood in front of him with an umbrella to his face, glaring up at him.

“Katsuki Nobuhiko Bakugo. You WILL take the ring, come with me, and save the fucking day. Do I make myself MOTHERFUCKING CLEAR?!”

Bakugo won’t admit it, but somehow he was almost reminded of an angry Inko Midoriya. And it’s even more deadly than his own mother’s ire.

Even Lila was falling onto the bed looking frightened.

Bakugo averted his eyes down, then sighed before looking back up at the fuming bunny, “…Fine, what do I have to do?”

Usadori smiled happily before taking Bakugo’s hand, placing the ring onto his finger. The blond raised a brow before he had to close his eyes with a groan when a light flashed before him, then blinked slowly when a floating black cat like thing appeared before him.

“This is my new kitten?” Plagg questioned before looking to Usadori, “Kid, you didn’t think of anyone else?”

“Trust me on this. This one fits the bill,” The rabbit hero said with a chirp before making a portal, then looked to Lila, “You stay here, and keep out of trouble.”

Lila rolled her eyes, “As if I have anywhere to go.”

Smiling, Usadori soon looked to Bakugo, who was looking down at the ring as it turned into a black ring with an amber stone.

“Now just say “Plagg, Claws Out!” and I’ll explain on the way,”

Bakugo was grinning now, as he then raised a fist up.

“PLAGG! CLAWS OUT!”

“This should do it.”

Adrien was peeking over the Master’s shoulder along with Pridwen and Leviathan, watching how the man was holding the Peacock Miraculous and using a dropper that somehow had some sort of potion inside that would fix the broken Miraculous.

“Is this really gonna work?” The new Turtle Hero asked.

“It has too.” Fu hummed, as he let the drop of the potion fall unto the cracks, and the four of them watched for any signs it would be fixed.

They all gasped as golden light shimmered on the cracks, and soon the cracks were slowly closing up, hope shining on everyone’s face. Adrien breathed out softly when he saw the color looked more vibrant now than it did before, the blond watching the Miraculous glowed brightly before Duusu appeared before them, opening her eyes and looking so alive and happy.

“Wooooo~ I’m fixed~ I feel sooOOOooo much better~” Duusu cooed happily before she then looked over to Adried and gasped, flying over to him then was peppering kisses onto his face, “Are you my new holder~? You’re soooo cute hehehe~~“

“Er? Thank you?”

A cough came from Fu as Duusu and Adrien looked over at him, the old man smiled a little.

“I believe you have a fight to get back to, Adrien?”

Adrien nodded before he was taking the brooch and placed it over his chest, smiling as he looked at Duusu, determination filled his face.

“Duusu, Showoff Feathers!”

The Peacock Kwami giggled before she was pulled into the Miraculous, and Adrien soon transformed into his hero attire, everyone in the room looking in awe. The new hero looked down at himself, knowing he looked super different than Mayura. More bright and a little tight, but still a better look as he saw his reflection in the mirror close by.

“Woah…” The hero touched the Phantom Mask over half his face before looking back at Master Fu, “I-I suppose I should get going.”

“We’re coming with,” Leviathan chirped before looking a bit puzzled, “W-what should we call you though?”

The Peacock hero looked thoughtful for a moment before he smiled, “Call me…Prince Peafowl~”

A groan came from everyone, as Prince Peafowl pouted.

“I don’t see any of you coming up with a cooler name!”

“Well no time to think on it, Ladybug looks like she needs help,” Pridwen saw the news as the trio of heroes looked to the screen of Ladybug and Hawkmoth fighting…and Ladybug was losing.

“Right. I’ll go. Pridwen, stay with the Master. Leviathan, come with me!”

The Snake heroine nodded before she and Prince Peafowl jumped out to head off.

Ladybug panted as she fell to the ground, Hawkmoth standing over her with a dark chuckle.

“It’s foolish, Ladybug. Your partner abandoned you and you’re out of luck. In a few minutes, you’ll turn back into a pitiful girl and your Miraculous will be mine!”

Ladybug felt the beeping of her earrings and closed her eyes, shaking her head. She stood her ground, getting up and opening her eyes once more with stubbornness and determination.

“Not gonna happen, Hawkmoth. I’ll take you down myself if I have to! You’re never going to get these earrings!”

Before Hawkmoth could step forward to attack, a portal appeared in front of him as a boot kicked his face in, explosions happening everywhere.

“DIE YOU MOTH MASKED FREAK!”

“Dyna-Cat! You’re not supposed to kill him!” Usadori peeked his head out with wide eyes, already hopping out and closing the portal behind him.

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU DAMN RABBIT NERD! AND YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO CALL ME KING EXPLOSION MURDER CAT!”

The new Cat Hero yelled at the other, then turned as he was already throwing his hands up and grinned evilly. He soon wailed his punches down on the villain, screaming ‘Die, Die, DIE!’ over and over again.

Ladybug stared in both horror and shook, while Usadori was rubbing at his head with a sigh.

He was starting to regret giving the Miraculous to this guy.

“King…Explosion Murder Cat?” Ladybug asked slowly, Usadori giving a look of nervousness and bashfulness.

“It’s a name he really loves.”

“…Where’s Chat Noir?”

“He’s donning a new persona and will be here in a few minutes~” The Rabbit Hero then peeked behind her and smiled, “Ah! Here he comes now with Leviathan~”

Ladybug looked over and gasped as she saw a Peacock Hero along with the Snake Hero, whirling around to Usadori.

“You didn’t…”

“I did~” Usadori yelled jovially before Ladybug then looked at her Lucky Charm, “I am sure your Lucky Charm told you about this…?”

It all makes sense now.

“But now what?” Ladybug looked to the now very burnt and beaten Hawkmoth, “Are…are we really winning this easily?”

“It’s not over yet,” Usadori breathed out before he looked down seeing Sombre Swift and the portals around them, “First we get the Butterfly Miraculous away from Hawkmoth and end all this madness.”

Leviathan was seen activating her Second Chance, landing nearby them along with Prince Peafowl.

“We’re here!” Prince Peafowl chirped, grinning at Ladybug, “Like my new look~?”

“Very stylish…er—?”

“Prince Peafowl~”

“Of course you’d use a name like that.”

“Hey, extras!”

Everyone looked to the new Cat who was shaking the unconscious Hawkmoth by the collar.

A huff came from the Peacock hero, “He’s my temp?!”

An angry look came from the new Cat Hero, “I’m no one’s replacement.”

“Whatever. But now that we have Hawkmoth, we can take the Miraculous and see who this guy is~” Prince Peafowl smiled brightly and looked towards Ladybug, “Right?”

The holder of the Ladybug felt her heart elate for just a moment.

This was it. It was all gonna be over.

Ladybug was hopeful now that they could have the Butterfly Miraculous back where it belongs and the terrible nightmares that this and the Peacock Miraculous have caused here would cease. Paris could be a peaceful city again.

“Not so fast~”

Before they could move and get the Miraculous off of Hawkmoth, laughter was heard and everyone jumped back in time before a blue fire blocked their way to Hawkmoth and the new Cat Hero had to jump away and land next to Usadori. Ladybug and the rest of them looked around. Suddenly, a figure landed before them, revealing to be some dark haired man with burnt scars and staples on his skin, his hands on fire.

“Nah, ah, ah kiddies~ Can’t be taking our hard work now~”

“D-dabi?” Both Usadori and the new Cat gasped, making everyone else confused.

“W-who is he?” Ladybug asked, as Usadori frowned, silent.

Not getting any answeres, Ladybug stepped forward, voice strong and demanding.

“Are you working for Hawkmoth and Mayura??? Are you here to take our Miraculous?!” Ladybug demanded, but then blinked as Dabi cackled in amusement.

“Working for them? You’ve got it twisted, little girl~” Dabi shook his head, then smirked darkly, “They’re working for us~“

Suddenly Leviathan was about to slap down on her bracelet but yelped when she felt something grabbing her forearms and lifting her up in the air, while Prince Peafowl yelped when he was grabbed as well. The New Cat Hero, Usadori and Ladybug turned to see two more of Dabi seen, grinning evilly while Leviathan was kicking and trying to break free along with the Peacock Hero.

“Sorry, little heroes~ We can’t have you take our little friend here~ He still…has his uses~”

Ladybug sensed movement as she flipped back to see a silver masked man in all body black rubber suit that also covered his bottom half of his face, and this dude tried to attack her. The snickering villain was wiggling his fingers in a waving motion as another one of him kicked her down, while more clones of Dabi and the masked man jumped out to attack the blond cat hero and Usadori.

While that was happening, the Real Dabi hummed and soon turned to Hawkmoth, who was slowly waking up.

“T-The…The Miraculous…I…I need…”

Dabi raised a brow. Sighing, he crouched down before the old man and reached to his chest. He grabbed the Miraculous, transforming Hawkmoth back to Gabriel Agreste, Dabi shaking his head.

“I said we still have use for you…but not as Hawkmoth~”

Gabriel looked confused but then gasped when a hand reached to grab him, screaming out in agony as Dabi cackled, Gabriel trying to pry the madman’s hand off of his now burning face.

“Sorry. It’s orders from the Bossman. You’ll understand soon~”

Prince Peacock managed to get himself free, using his fan to slice at the man holding him, then sliced at him once more when he pulled on his belt and transformed it into a sword, only blinking in confusion when the man…started melting like mud?

Shaking his head, he soon looked to the one named Dabi still crouched over Hawkmoth, but it looks like that the butterfly villain had de-transformed?

The Peacock Hero jumped over the fire gracefully and landed behind Dabi, trying to see what was going on when Dabi stood up, almost whirling around to smack at the Peacock hero, but missed when Prince Peafowl jumped out of the way. The fiery villain grinned, waving the Butterfly Miraculous at him almost mockingly. Prince Peafowl frowned before looking at the fallen Hawkmoth to see who the man was behind the mask, but looked horrified as he saw that his face was burnt almost to the point of being unrecognisable. But the clothes…it couldn’t be. Then he saw the glasses on the ground.

“This is where we say goodbye, hero~” Dabi winked, before he hummed, “You are holding the Peacock now, huh~? Looks like Mayura failed. Too bad, she was gonna be one of our good chess pieces…”

Prince growled before a crazed grin came over Dabi’s face.

“We got what we came for. So consider yourselves lucky, kiddo~ The Great Hawkmoth and Scary Mayura are off your hands for now~ Until then…” Dabi was pressing something against his ear as he murmured, “Kurogiri, Twice and I are ready.”

A black gaping hole swirled behind Dabi as he and the other masked man, now known as Twice, were backing up to escape into the swirling dark vortex along with the clones. Dabi picked the fallen Hawkmoth, hoisted him on his shoulder and turned to leave.

“Wait, come back—“

“NO!”

Usadori jumped over, raising an arm up to stop Prince Peafowl from running after them as the villains escaped to the portal.

“What are you thinking? You think you can go up against them? They’ll kill you on the spot! They aren’t like Hawkmoth and Mayura!”

Once Dabi and Twice were gone and the portals vanished, Prince Peafowl growled, glaring at Usadori.

“So what? We just let them get away?!”

“At least we’re safe now. And we got one of the Miraculous back,” Ladybug spoke up softly once she was helping Leviathan up, trying to smile even though there was a lot of questions and concerns in her eyes, “We’ve won a battle at least, and without any casualties once I call my Miraculous Ladybug.”

“And look!”

Leviathan pointed towards the portals vanishing, and it seems that Sombre Swift and changed back into Alya Cesaire.

“NO!” The girl screamed as her powers were gone, and soon everyone that was under her spell was waking back up and getting control back.

Shinso blinked as he looked around for a moment, then looking down at Duchess Dormouse, who was tearing up and soon hugging the life out of him while Wyvern was smiling in victory.

Vix Filou breathed out in relief, looking up at Ladybug and them.

Ladybug looked to the feather in hand, then was throwing up in the air.

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG~!”

Everything soon was cleaned and fixed back to normal, the monsters disappearing and all the people that were under Sombre Swift’s control were back to normal.

Ladybug breathed out a sigh of relief, but then glanced over to an angry looking Alya being surrounded by Duchess Dormouse, Wyvern, Vix Filou and Shinso.

“You…This isn’t over!” Alya screamed out as Ladybug and the rest of them rushed over to them, catching Alya’s attention as she stood and pointed to Ladybug once she was close, “And you! How could you replace me!?”

Ladybug sighed before she looked to the Ladyblogger sadly, “I am truly sorry. But I am afraid you can no longer be a Miraculous Hero anymore,”

Alya blinked, then her eyes widened, “W-what?! Why?!”

“This isn’t any way your fault. Hawkmoth trapped you at your weakest, and I’m not sure why but…because of some circumstances that came to light today, I must renounce you as Rena Rouge permanently.”

Vix Filou almost smirked at this but Alya was shaking her head with angry tears.

“I didn’t do anything WRONG! If only you gave me my Miraculous instead of JUST Nino—”

“That’s also another thing. You already know Nino is a Miraculous holder and now Hawkmoth knows it too. You also exposed Hitoshi Shinso as well as yourself, so if I don’t do this now, Hawkmoth will try and track you and your loved ones down. Don’t worry, they aren’t getting their Miraculous back either,” At least not the ones they have used now out in the open, “But this is the end, Alya. I am sorry.”

Ladybug opened her hand out to ask for the Miraculous that Alya was still holding back.

“Please, for the sake of our teamwork and friendship, give me back the Horse Miraculous.”

Alya’s eyes darted left and right for a moment, stepping back for a bit while holding the glasses closer to her chest.

“…No.”

Ladybug looked broken in disbelief as Alya growled, anger rising even more.

“No it cannot end like this!” She screeched, pointing an accusing finger at her, “How many times have I waited for you to call on me to have MY miraculous and fight alongside you to save the day?! How many, HUH!? I’ve been nothing but loyal to you! Helped you in everything and anything for you stupid heroes and yet I get no thanks? No recognition or even a chance to be Rena Rouge and yet you let some nobodies have Miraculouses?! What have THEY done for you?! NOTHING! WHILE I WAS ALWAYS THERE FROM THE BEGINNING! EVEN BETTER THAN STUPID, USELESS CHAT NOIR!”

The heroes looked at Alya in shock as she was placing the glasses on, Kaalki appearing next to her, looking miffed.

“If I can’t be Rena Rouge! Fine! I’ll be a new hero! And be TWICE AS GOOD AS YOU! OR NINO OR EVEN FUCKING CHLOE BOURGEOIS—”

The new Fox rolled her eyes as she looked to Ladybug, “Geez, what a sore loser.”

The Ladyblogger growled as she whipped her head to Vix Filou and pointed her finger at her, “I’ll take you down first, you fake hero!”

Before she could do anything, she felt someone grab at her glasses and pulled them away from her face.

Shinso stood with his capture weapon, the glasses now in hand.

“This stops now.”

“You—“

Alya started but soon her eyes went blank, her jaw slacked and body almost slumping over as Shinso walked over to her, eyes dark and aura menacing.

“You’re going home, go to sleep, and once you wake up, you will forget EVERYTHING you have seen or heard this day. You’re going to forget you EVER were the Fox Heroine, Rena Rouge. You are going to forget that Nino Lahiffe was Carapace or I was Kirin AND never try to find out any Miraculous Heroes identities or chase after Ladybug or them ever again. That clear? Now go.”

Everyone watched as Alya soon was turning around and started walking away, almost looking like a zombie as she did so.

Shinso held his head for a moment and almost fell if not for Usadori catching him.

“I got you.”

Ladybug slowly looked at the purple haired male, almost too afraid to ask.

“What…did you do?” Prince Peafowl asked slowly as Shinso looked around him.

Fear.

Shinso closed his eyes, knowing that this was the outcome when using his quirk. He should’ve known…

“…What had to be done.”

“You do realise you used your quirk outside of school,” Usadori breathed out as he fidgeted a bit, looking troubled, “What would Eraserhead say?”

“He’ll overlook it. It was either this or bonk her on the head hard.”

Usadori looked disapprovingly for a moment before the new Cat Hero snorted.

“So Eyebags is here too. That’s just great.”

Peafowl bristled before pointing a finger at the explosive boy, “Alright, I can’t believe that the person that took the Cat Miraculous would be a really rude asshole!”

Usadori sighed before smiling weakly, “I should be taking him back…”

“Hito…”

Shinso didn’t look up as someone called his name soflty, knowing that people are now afraid of what he’s capable of. So color him surprised as he felt the arms around him and someone’s face burying their face to his back. Shinso’s eyes widened as he was turned around, looking at the teary eyed Duchess Dormouse, who was soon sobbing into his chest.

“I-I’m glad you’re okay, Hitoshi! I wa-was so SO scared w-when I saw you on TV…” She cried, making Shinso realise who this girl was behind the mouse mask.

Looking up slowly, he saw the Dragon Heroine smiling weakly and giving a shy familiar thumbs up, Shinso’s eyes widening more.

“You’re…not scared?”

“I JUST SAID I was scared, silly!” The Mouse Heroine sniffled, snot now running down her nose and Shinso was quickly pulling his scarf to wipe her nose and tears, not caring about the mess.

“No, no…I meant…you saw what I did to Cesaire…”

Another sniffle and the girl was wiping her eyes before she looked up at him, “Yeah, a-and?”

Shinso blinked, frowning, “I…used my quirk. I brainwashed her just like she did with her powers when she was Akumatized?”

“B-But you did it for good. Not evil.”

“…How would you know that?”

Duchess pouted and reached up to pull at his cheeks, making Shinso yelp and groan in pain.

“Ooowww—“

“Listen to me Hitoshi Shinso! I have known you for not that long, but I know that you are a good person! You used your…quirk? Yeah, you used your quirk so that Alya couldn’t get revenge on Ladybug and us! You did us all a favour so she won’t be re-akumatized by Hawkmoth should he come back! So don’t be villainizing yourself Hitoshi or I’M GONNA GET REAL MAD!”

Pale violet eyes stared down at the petite heroine in surprise, before he then yelped when his cheeks were slapped by her hands hard, and soon his face was smushed by said hands.

“Say it.”

“Shay bwat?” Shinso asked, cheeks still mushed by her hands, almost resembling a puffer fish.

“Say you’re not a bad guy.”

Shinso stared at her incredulously, but seeing her serious look, he sighed and closed his eyes.

“…I’m not a bad guy.”

Duchess looked at Shinso a few more seconds, eyes squinted before it widened brightly as she smiled. Satisfied with him, she lets go of Shinso’s face then patting it gently.

“Good boy~”

Shinso sighed, but had a tiny smile as he leaned into her gloved hands.

“Okay, enough with the touchy shit, can we go now?” The Cat Hero huffed before turning to Usadori, narrowing his eyes, “And you! NEVER drag me into this shit again…“

Ladybug frowned before stepping up now, hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes, “You know, I dunno WHAT Usadori was thinking recruiting a rude jerk like you as the Cat Hero while Chat Noir isn’t here!”

Shinso looked to the both of them and his eyes widened, almost looking paler than he usually was. Duchess glanced over at him, wondering what got him as white as a ghost.

“Haaa? You say something, Spots???”

“Haa?! H-What do you mean Haaa?? YOU USED UNNECESSARY VIOLENCE AGAINST SOMEONE!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP! I DID THE JOB I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO! STOP MOTH MOUTH FROM DESTROYING PARIS, ISn’T THAT /WHY/ I WAS CALLED?!”

“That doesn’t mean you get to blow his face off! AND HE’S HAWKMOTH, NOT MOTH MOUTH!”

“Whatever! A VILLAIN’S A VILLAIN! DO YOUR JOB BETTER!” “You—YOU—“

“Lost your words, Spots?!”

“YOu’re SO—UGH—”

Shinso and the rest of them watched the new Cat and Ladybug argue back and forth like a tennis match, although Shino was sweating bullets and Usadori was laughing quietly, almost knowing.

“Ah, Ka—I-I mean, Dyna-Cat, we should get going~” The Rabbit Hero interrupted, getting in between them.

“I TOLD YOU TO CALL ME LORD KING EXPLOSION MURDER CAT—”

“THat’s another thing, WHAT A STUPID HERO NAME—“

Prince Peafowl sighed as he was reaching to Ladybug and covered her mouth, holding her back as Usadori made his burrow and started dragging the protesting Cat Hero away and into the portal, the two of them disappearing.

Beeping sounds from multiple directions were heard, and Prince yelped in worry.

“We’ve got ten seconds until we transform back!”

Quickly, Shinso was placing his glasses on and called ‘Kaalki, full gallop!’ out loud, transforming into Kirin before teleporting them all to Master Fu’s place. Their timers turned zero as they transformed back to their civilian selves.

Master Fu and Pridwen smiled at the heroes returning, relieved and proud of the now tired heroes. Nino was sitting on the couch with Sabrina now, looking disoriented and apologetic.

“Well done, everyone. You have truly worked together as a team and saved Paris from Hawkmoth and Sombre Swift,” Fu spoke up softly, nodding his head, “I am very proud of you all.”

“As true as that is, I’m still angry about Usadori changing plans on us,” Marinette groaned, placing a hand over her eyes.

“But we won and Paris is okay! I count that as a success!” Alix cheered before Pridwen transformed back to Nathaniel, looking grim.

“Except Hawkmoth escaped with that fire villain. So we still didn’t get the Butterfly Miraculous back…”

“But we did get this back,” Adrien held the Peacock brooch in hand, smiling a bit as Duusu rested on his shoulder, “Thanks to Usadori…”

After having a small moment to breathe, everyone soon was feeding their kwamis (thanks to Marinette bringing snacks before all ths), Adrien especially giving Duusu a treat and cuddling her close in his arms.

Nino sighed loudly as he looked up, “I’m sorry, you guys.”

Everyone looked towards Nino, who was fiddling with the snacks that Marinette provided them.

“Why are you saying sorry, dude?” Alix asked.

“If…If I didn’t get caught in Sombre Swift’s trap, t-then maybe I wouldn’t have compromised myself and get exposed a-and Alya—“

“Hey, that’s not your fault,” Sabrina was shaking her head, “Alya was out of control and did what she did. You had no control over that.”

“Still…”

Marinette touched Nino’s hand and smiled warmly, “I meant what I said though. You may not be able to be Wyazz’s holder anymore, but you can still be a hero.”

“R-really?” Nino looked teary eyed for a moment, then looked to Nathaniel.

“Oh! Um, i-if you don’t want me to use the Turtle—-“

Nathaniel was already trying to remove his bracelet but Nino stopped him, shaking his head.

“Nah, dude. If I had to say who’s get Wyazz, I’d gladly pick you. So I’m happy Master Fu made the call to choose you as the true Turtle Hero,” He smiled, giving a salute, “Take care of my dude there, ya here?”

Wyazz flew to Nino, hugging his face, “You were an amazing partner to have, my dude!”

“Same to you, little dude. Take care of Nath too, okay, buddy?” Nino said, almost crying as he hugged the kwami before letting him go, Wyazz flying back to sit on Nath’s head.

Adrien pursed his lips as he stared down at Duusu, catching Marinette’s attention.

“Adrien…?”

Adrien sighed, before looking at his partner with unsure eyes.

“If I am to have Duusu and be the Peacock Hero…do-does this mean I’m no longer Chat Noir?”

Marinette looked unsure. Can she no longer have Chat Noir as her partner?

Re-Destro bowed his head to the ground as Shigaraki looked at the screen, having watched everything that was happening in Paris. Including the defeat of Hawkmoth. Trumpet and Skeptic were standing by the door with nervous looks, glancing at each other then to their former leader, who was murmuring apologies.

“I-I did not realise that Gabriel was a quirkless. If I knew, I wouldn’t have—It was just that Emilie-san a-and him being Hawkmoth I—“

Shigaraki raised a hand, and Rikiya zipped his lips immediately, before bowing his head even further down.

“I apologise, Great Leader. You may punish me as you wish…I-I have failed you—“

“Failed~?” Shigaraki chuckled, his blood colored eyes looking down at the shrivelled up man that jumped out of his floating chair to basically grovel in front of him, “On the contrary, you showed me something interesting~”

“G-Great Leader?”

Trumpet looked confused, as he coughed, “Forgive me for asking but…are you saying that us losing to a bunch of children was a good thing?”

Shigaraki turned his head to stare at the man, who then averted his head down as to not meet eyes with the dust quirk villain.

A hum sounded from Shigaraki for a moment, tilting his head as he gave a wicked look.

“Losing to some kids…actually made me realise one thing…”

All three Lieutenants looked at each other for a moment before looking back at their Leader, who was grinning slowly.

“Hero Society had the right idea when it came to creating their so called champions. You gotta pick the good ones while they’re still young~”

Himiko Toga stepped out from her hiding spot from an alleyway as she saw the dazed Alya Cesaire walking on the streets. Spinner was behind the vampire like villainess, sighing with folded arms as he was pressing into a communicator and talking with someone. Grinning in glee, Toga soon made a grab for her, raising what seems to be a hammer in her hand.

“And…what of Gabriel?” Re-Destro asked, frowning a little, but relieved that Shigaraki wasn’t too angry with him.

Shigaraki smirked.

“He still has his uses~”

Dabi watched with a bored expression while Doctor Ujiko was smiling with glee, working on a new test subjects for his Nomus. Twice sort of cowered behind Dabi before giving a cheer and thumbs ups second later.

“And…Emilie-san?”

“...She’s been taken care of.”

Amelie’s eyes watered with a gasp, shaking her head as she felt like the walls were closing in on her, her vision tunnelling. Aizawa caught her before she fell, looking at the now empty coffin that Emilie once laid in.

“And what a beauty she is~”

Mr. Compress appeared once a portal opened nearby Shigaraki, humming a little as he held up a pretty blue marble in hand. Another portal opened as Toga was giggling happily while waving a now bloodied hammer, Spinner carrying a black body bag.

Re-Destro, Trumpet and Skeptic looked surprised at this, as Shigaraki stood, chuckling darkly.

“A battle is lost today. But the war is FAR from over~”

The police van driven by Roger Raincomprix, the vehicle riding down the Parisian road on the way to the police station carrying the now known accomplice of Hawkmoth, the former Mayura: Nathalie Sancoeur. She just stared at the tiny barred window with dead eyes, until she blinked, hearing commotion at the front the truck, and soon the vehicle came to a halt.

She then tilted her head when the doors of the police truck was ripped open, and Kurogiri stood there, yellow eyes unfeeling and patient.

Nathalie just smirked, almost as if knowing.

And soon the two vanished into the night.

25 notes · View notes

justkending · 4 years ago

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Moral of The Story. Chapter One.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of an old love all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Ok, here is the first chapter! If you have not already listened to the song that evoked this idea from my imagination land, I suggest giving it a go! Moral of the Story by Ashe. I’m excited for you guys to see what this story brings and I really hope I do it justice! As always, comments and thoughts are welcome as they help me grow as a writer and let me see what you guys notice:) ENJOY MY LOVES!!! <3

(The posting will be once every other day until I have finished the series. If I finish early, I will post an update once a day:)

Read the Prologue here first!

Chapter One:

"You already got the flight?" Nat asked, perched on Y/N's couch as she ran around frantically packing. "Don't you have a huge meeting next week with that new business? What was it called? Bee's Knees?"

"Yes, but it's not until Monday evening. I highly doubt I will be there longer than a weekend to sign a few divorce papers. I'm planning on coming back early that afternoon, so I shouldn't miss it," she answered, not even stopping to look at her as she ran through the rooms and bathroom in the apartment.

"How soon did you book that flight?"

"As soon as I hung up the phone with Murdock," Y/N sighed. Nat sent her a questioning look not knowing that name. "New lawyer. The guy who took over for the sleazeball known as Justin Hammer," she rolled her eyes.

"Right," Nat nodded. "So, are you staying at your dad's house?"

"I would take my dad's house over my mom and Jerry's any day. You know this," Y/N paused in her actions, sending her a bitch face.

"I know. Just didn't know if you'd be all fancy and rent a hotel room to escape the smothering that is bound to happen from good ol' Mr. Y/L/N," Nat grinned.

"It's been so long since I've seen him not via facetime. And we both know that's barely seeing him as he doesn't know where the camera is even after a hundred calls," she laughed.

"Parents. Either they're technologically challenged or know how to work it better than us. Never in between and it's weird." Nat watched as Y/N froze in her stance and looked lost trying to think of something else to pack. Deciding she needed a distraction, Nat changed the subject some. "Hey, did you get Melody to go on that date tomorrow?"

"Yes!" Y/N answered proudly. "I know your aunt wants grandbabies from her daughter, but that girl just needs a night on the town more than anything. She's in her early 20's and holes herself up at the office almost more than I do, and I'm the boss."

"Cousin's got my work ethic. What can I say?" Nat shrugged smugly.

"Well, she needs to get your spirit in living some too."

"Touche," Nat pointed. "I need to have Yelena take her out. She's the real party sister out of us two."

"That is true. How she's able to party for 48 hours straight and still wake up at 8 am for mimosas, blows my mind," Y/N commented on Natasha's younger sister. "She's only a few years older than Melody, right?"

"Yeah, Yelena is 24, and Melody is 22. They were best of friends growing up, but once they got to high school, they kinda went different routes about life. Lana, the party gal, and Mel the studious bookworm."

"I'm not surprised by either of those," Y/N shook her head before collapsing next to Nat on the couch. A loud breath and sigh escaped her body.

Nat watched as her mind escaped back to the original issue at hand.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Y/N/N?" she said, softly touching her shoulder. "Not that I don't already know, but maybe letting it out will help unscramble those thoughts."

Y/N lazily rolled her head to the redhead next to her.

"How is he?" she asked.

Nat was a part of their friend group from middle school through high school. She kept up with all of them still, whereas Y/N kept up with all of them except one.

"I actually haven't talked to him in a while. Steve on the other hand..." Nat nodded. "From that source, it sounds like Barnes is just as surprised and freaked out as you."

"He's freaked out?" Y/N asked, a hint of interest peeking out.

"Who wouldn't be? You get a call from a lawyer saying your marriage is still intact after 9 years of breaking it off, I would be freaked out too."

"He deserves it. I hope he's just as freaked out as me, if not more," she responded bitterly, crossing her arms across her chest like a pouting child.

"Y/N," Nat sighed.

"No. Don't. Don't defend him to me, it's pointless," she put up a hand. "I know you're still friends with him, but you guys still don't understand the pain that that man brought on me."

"He fought for you, Y/N. He didn't mean-," Nat countered.

"Again, you're wasting your breath. Defending him now does nothing to change the past," she said stubbornly, getting back up and carrying on with her packing. "You can still take me to the airport tomorrow, right?"

Her best friend wanted to keep pushing, knowing she had harbored this heartbreak for too long. Sure what had happened between them sucked and was a horrible chapter of their lives, but neither made an effort to talk it out and understand the other's side of the story. Faults of being young, immature, and not knowing how to handle a grown-up decision.

"Yes, I'll pick you up at work at 10. Flights at 11:25, right?"

"Yes, and you know California traffic. That will probably get me there 10 minutes before my gate closes. I had to get an early flight though because that time difference is going to kick my ass. It'll be close to 5:30 in my head and 8:30 there by the time I land... " Y/N huffed, rolling her bag to the front door for tomorrow. "You mind taking this tonight and keeping it in your car for now? That way I don't have to lug it to work?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll grab it on my way out. But we're still having a girl's night, right?"

Y/N laughed some before going to the kitchen to grab beers. "I Survived is already recorded and ready for us."

___________________

"Shit man... When's the last time you talked to her?" Steve asked, sitting across from his best friend in the chair diagonal from the couch, leaning forward on his knees after listening to the new news.

"Since I was supposedly signing our divorce papers. And even then, we didn't really talk. She sat there quietly straight-faced until it was signed and then rushed out the doors," Bucky sighed, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "She was out of the state within the next hour."

Steve nodded before falling back into the single seat.

"So, do you guys have to see each other again, or is it one of those situations where you can sign separately?"

"I don't know. I just got off the phone. All I know up to this second is that Y/N and I have been married for the past 9 years without knowing it," Bucky said somewhat harshly. Steve didn't flinch at the tone knowing it wasn't directed at him. "I'm sorry. I-I just can't wrap my mind around this."

"It's ok. This is crazy shit, Buck," Steve waved off. There was a long pause before Steve decided to ask the question he was sure anyone would want to know. "Do you want to see her?"

Bucky slowly looked over to the blonde. God, he had been asking himself that question for the past 10 minutes himself.

On one end, yes. He wondered where she was now in life. How she was doing. What accomplishments he knew she would be making. He knew a few small things just by the whispers and small talk of her with their shared friend group that he still hung out with, but a majority of the time, they didn't bring her up around him. They knew what it did to him.

On the other end, he never thought about facing her again. I mean maybe for the year after their divorce, but when he never heard anything back from her all those times he still tried to reach out and she blocked him on almost all forms of social media, he gave up any hope of them falling back into good terms again. He hated it, but he wasn't going to push her when she clearly hated his guts.

And honestly, he deserved it. His young, stupid, college self was not a smart guy when it came to relationships. Even ones that had been there from the beginning of time practically.

Yet again, she wasn't perfect either. She made some mistakes of her own that pushed him to act the way he had.

"Hey, you both are older and more mature now. I'm sure you if you guys do have to see each other again, you can handle it like adults," Steve reassured, seeing Bucky's face turn to a soft frown. "Ok, so she may be a little stubborn..."

"A little?"

"Ok, a lot. But she's older now. She's not the 19-year-old girl that you remember," Steve defended.

"I believe that but I'm sure she still holds a grudge that is very, very, very, very-," Bucky was going to go on about 10 more very's before ending with BIG, but Steve cut him off.

"You don't know that," Steve shook his head.

"Really? Because usually when you no longer hold a grudge against someone, you might just reach out to that person and reconnect possibly," Bucky argued. "I mean that's what mature people do, right?"

"Not always..."

"So she's either not mature or still just as stubborn. Hell, for all we know, both," Bucky shrugged, pursing his lips.

"If you go into this with that mindset, nothing good is going to come out of it." Steve pointed an eyebrow at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes not replying to Steve. He knew he was right, but he was still bitter after all these years about how Y/N handled the situation. Sure, he messed up, but she had to. Yet she made him into this big bad wolf that was at 100% fault in the downfall of their relationship. It made him feel like shit, and though he tried to make amends knowing he did some fucked up things, she acted like she was Miss Perfect and didn't do anything wrong the entire time.

Damn, even after all this time, it still lit a fire in his chest with annoyance and hurt.

"When's the meeting?" Steve once again interrupted his thoughts.

"I guess Saturday morning. They said they were coming in on their off hours to fix up a few cases they found like ours," Bucky answered.

"How many cases were there?"

"Eh, I think he said it was single digits, but there were a shit ton of other cases in different areas that were worse off. The divorce ones are a small number compared to those."

"Damn. That sucks for all the couples who got a call today then," Steve huffed, running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, you're telling me..."

"Hey, we were going out with Wanda and Vis tonight. You still up for that, or...?" Steve stood up.

Bucky looked back at the beer on the coffee table and then at the TV still playing I Survived stories quietly in the background.

"You know what? I'm going to need a stronger drink than an IPA to get me to sleep tonight," Bucky nodded, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans before walking to his room.

"Looks like I'm the DD tonight then..." Steve sighed.

___________

"Vis," Wanda motioned to her fiance as he came back from the bar. "Nat just texted."

"About what? How is she?" Vis smiled as he sat next to her with Sam across from him. Sam tagged along at the last second since his other plans got canceled.

"She's good, but it's not about her," Wanda waved off, still reading whatever lengthy text was sent her way.

"Wow, that looks like a novel," Vis noticed with wide eyes as he looked over her shoulder.

"Wait 'til you hear what it's about."

Sam shook his head as he took a sip of the beer Vis had brought over.

After reading the rest of the text out loud from where she had left off, everyone at the table looked at each other with shock ridden faces.

"They're still married?" Vis said softly as if it was a secret.

"Apparently..." Wanda nodded with wide eyes.

"So that Hammer guy was a sham?" Sam questioned.

"I told her not to go to him. He had some shady hole in the wall kind of establishment," Wanda chided. "But she said they needed something cheap and fast. She hated his guts and wanted it out of it then and there. Plus, they were 19. They didn't have much money anyway."

"Why didn't they just ask their parents for help?" Sam questioned. "Isn't Y/N's mom loaded?"

"Yes, but she refused to help her. She said it was her own fault for getting married so young and that she had warned her. Told her she had to get out of the mess on her own," Wanda answered.

"What about her dad?" Vis jumped in.

"Bucky and her dad were close. She was off in Colorado for school and didn't want to put her dad through that or make him have to help her in cutting him off. Bucky was like the son he never had and they were bonded at the hip. No matter how much Y/N hated Bucky, she wasn't going to ruin or take away his relationship with her father. That would have been cruel, and Y/N is anything but that."

"Weren't Bucky's and Y/N's dad's best friends?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, they were old-time war buddies. They're the reason Bucky and Y/N had known each other since birth. But Bucky's dad died when he was about 13, and Y/N's dad, Thomas, kinda took him under his wing. Growing up a teenage boy without a father figure messes with you, and Bucky was on the edge of a bad path after losing his father."

"He's still rather close with Thomas, but I'm sure Y/N doesn't know that. Unless Thomas has said something, and with how everything came to an end for the two, I'm sure he doesn't bring it up knowing how tender of a subject Bucky is to her," Vis added.

"Makes sense..." Sam nodded. "I only knew you all from the start of college, so I'm still a little lost in all the beginning stuff."

"All good. It's complicated with those two. Their past and upbringing are so interconnected with the other, it makes their downfall all the more intense and messy," Wanda sighed. "God, if this is the news, he's going to be a wreck tonight..." She looked up worriedly at her fiance who shared the same concerns.

"It could go two ways. Either he comes in all solemn and says three words all night, or Steve's going to be the DD and he's waking up with a head-busting hangover," Sam noted with a small grin at the thought. "I'm going to go with the latter though."

"Poor guy," Wanda sighed, taking a drink with a sad face. Ever the sympathetic one.

"We'll be here to listen if he wants to talk. If not, we act like we have no idea and don't bring it up," Vision spoke up, throwing his arm over her and running his hand up and down her shoulder.

"I'm going to tease him still most likely," Sam shrugged nonchalantly. Wanda sent him a warning glare. "Fine, mama bear! I'll be nice... Until he starts making a fool of himself." He added the last part quietly.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @pham-tastical

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia

#bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes x reader #justkending series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes modern series #bucky barnes au series #bucky barnes highschool #bucky barnes x highschool sweetheart #bucky barnes highschool sweetheart #bucky barnes x reader insert #reader insert #marvel #marvel au #marvel au series #justkending

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