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moonlight-prose · 26 days ago

Text

SIN TI

a/n: years ago when the falcon and the winter soldier came out, i wrote a one shot that has solidified itself as one of my favorite fic i've written. it's a friends to lovers arc and while i wanted to end it there. i couldn't stop myself from giving them another chapter to their love story. so i hope y'all enjoy. there's plenty more torres fics to come. also a massive thank you to my favorite person @soulores who bounced ideas off me and helped me with some of the spanish (i'm learning to fix up my fluency i promise).

note: this fic in my head is a latine reader, but there's no specifications/descriptions so imagine who you wish!

summary: five years have passed. five years since he boarded a plane and left you behind to wait diligently for the man who would never return. when letters and patchy phone calls failed to keep the spark of your relationship alive, you find each other again. only this time as two entirely different people.

word count: 11.2k+

pairing: joaquín torres x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!, epistolary beginning, angst, broken hearts, long distance relationships, epistolary style at first, romance, friends to lovers, arguments, passionate declarations of love, fingering, p in v sex, alcohol consumption, biting, cumplay, rough sex, desperation, yearning + pining, he's got a filthy fucking mouth, more angst, the grief of failed love, second chance romance, forever.

SIEMPRE

December 5, 2023

Mi amor,

It’s hard to believe you left only a few weeks ago and somehow I miss you more than I could say in words. If it were possible I’d have sent a longer letter than this. I’d tell you how I miss our mornings spent hunting for coffee, our nights wandering the streets. I’d tell you I miss your lips. But that seems cliché given the circumstances.

I wanted you to stay. And yet…I know how important it was that you go. You need this. You need to figure out where you exist in this world after living in it alone for five years. So I hope you discover what’s always been meant to find you. And when you do, please know that I’ll be here waiting for you.

Back where it all began.

Siempre te amaré.

-Tu corazón

January 8, 2024

Mi corazón,

God I miss your voice, your handwriting, your fucking smile. I miss every part of you. If I told you what I’ve actually been thinking of you’d probably never forgive me for putting it down somewhere in permanent ink. No te culpo. I wish I had better news, or at least some stories to give you, but they’re kicking my ass even before my eyes open. Bright and early at dawn until my whole body is screaming.

I don’t want you to worry mi vida. Please don’t worry. I’m doing okay. I’m alive at least. Gracias a dios. Well I wouldn’t exactly say no to a candle being lit in my name (maybe to help with the constant wake up calls of how you felt that night). Tell Clara and Michael I miss them. Give mi mamá a kiss and drop some flowers off for pops. But most importantly do me a favor.

Wear them for me yeah corazón? They’re my “lost” pair (got reamed out for “losing” my first fucking pair of dog tags but it was worth it to give you a piece of me.) Keep ‘em on. And know that I’ll be fighting like hell to get my way back to you. Back to our spot, back to morning coffee runs and night walks in the city.

They’re yours. Just like I am.

Siempre te amaré.

-Yours forever Joaquín

January 16, 2024

Mi amor,

Thank you baby for the tags. I cried when I felt your name engraved in the metal. Just the feel of the letters reminded me of the way you’d draw on my papers in high school. They were so bad, but I think I still have a few of them in the back of my closet. Somehow that feels like a lifetime ago. I can tell you that I miss you—that’s true—but it’s not entirely the full truth. I never got a first date, rarely got a chance to see your eyes open when we woke up together, or drink shitty beer on the roof of my apartment.

I wish I could say that it doesn’t hurt to wait for you, but that would be a lie. And I can hear you in the back of my head saying: eres mentirosa bebita. And it makes me laugh.

This letter will probably find its way to you near Valentine’s Day. And I can’t have my brave pilot missing the fun. Don’t show anyone. Keep it in your wallet, and enjoy the late nights mi vida (pretend I’m there with my mouth to keep you company, or my hands, or my pussy).

We’ll find ourselves back in that queen sized bed soon enough—that I’m sure of. I will have to take a week off work just to get my fill of you; although even I have to admit that’ll take a long fucking time.

You and I both know I’ll never have enough.

I’ll be thinking of you, as I always do. Especially in our bed. Come home soon mi amor and I’ll be here when you finally do.

Siempre te amaré.

-Tu corazón

February 16, 2024

Happy Valentine’s Day mi corazón.

You’ve got no idea what those Polaroids did to me. I think I touched myself fucking raw (or at least that’s what it feels like). I’ve got half a mind to frame them, proudly display my girl. But I know you might actually murder me, so I’ve got them where you asked—safe in my wallet. I’ve been thinking about you. Okay let me be honest. I always think about you. Seriously you fucked up my brain bebita before I left. Had me wrapped around your finger long before that night, but after…I’m going crazy without you.

Dios mío, yo también te extraño (probably more given how winded I get just thinking about you). And I wish I could say that I’ll be home eventually, but I don’t know. I wish I did. You’ve got no idea how much I wish I could find my way back to you. The air force is…it’s harder than I thought. Nothing I can’t handle.

Until then imagine me finally taking you out on that date. In fact plan it. Figure out where you wanna go, pick out an outfit that’ll drive me batshit, and I’ll be there. On that dance floor to finally finish what we started. Te amo mi corazón. More than you know.

Siempre te amaré.

-Yours forever Joaquín

February 20, 2024

Mi amor,

The thought of you has driven me insane. I actually sprayed your cologne on the pillow you slept on the last few days we were together, just to remind myself of what you smelled like. I also may have rode it. But that didn’t matter. It did nothing but make me ache. Te extraño mucho Joaquin.

I don’t know what to do with myself but go to work and wait for you to come home. But I’ve done what you said—I planned our date. Dinner at our favorite place, a night of drinks at Siempre, and dessert at the small ice cream parlor on the corner.

I want to believe you when you said you could handle the airforce, and I do, but something isn’t right. Por qué mientes mi amor? You forget, I know every piece of you. I know when you’re upset. I know when you are struggling and don’t want to say it, because you think you can bear the heaviness of the world. Even when you were younger you thought you could carry the weight of everyone’s troubles on your shoulders, but you don’t have to. I’m here. I’ll carry it with you.

You can tell me what’s wrong and I’ll promise to listen, to make it better however I can. What’s our love meant to be if not carrying one another through the harsh times of life?

Tell me everything amor. I’ll listen. I’ll save you this time around.

Have they told you when you’ll be able to visit? I know it’s only been a few months, but I just always wonder. If they haven’t I understand—I just miss you. But you know this. I won’t fill up this letter with misery, because you deserve more than that. Your mamá and I have dinner on Sunday’s now (she’s teaching me how to cook so I’ll promise to make a good meal for you).

Clara and Michael are together at last! And they’re worse than us in terms of PDA. I seriously wish you were here just to help me one up them. Give them a show. But that can wait. All of it can wait. As long as I know you’re coming home to me.

Please take care of yourself mi amor. Stay safe and I’ll be here making my apartment a home for the both of us.

Siempre te amaré.

-Tu corazón

March 30, 2024

Mi amor,

I hope my last letter didn’t get lost on the way to you. I’ve heard it could happen. But I’m getting worried with this constant silence. Estas bien? Are they treating you okay? Is the base nice? I just need something to know you’re okay baby. Send a letter, find a way to call me, but don’t leave me with nothing.

I’m not the only one worried and you know it.

I hope you’re safe.

Siempre te amaré.

-Tu corazón

May 18, 2024

Mi corazón,

I don’t know how to start this. I should have answered you earlier. Or sent something in return to your Valentine’s gift. Or shit I should have at least fought tooth and nail for a visitation day to come see you, but that’s no longer possible mi corazón. I’m being transferred to a base further away and I’m not sure when I’ll make it back. I don’t even know if they plan on giving me an idea on what’s going to happen with me, but that’s why I had to tell you.

Lo siento bebita. I’m…I’m just sorry. I love you, I always have and always will. But I can’t force you to wait for me forever. That’s not fair to you. And you deserve better than a man who could never gather the fucking nerve to tell you the truth. Waiting on a soldier like me shouldn’t be your future. So I’m doing what’s necessary.

I’m sorry.

I will always love you.

Forever.

- Joaquín

June 1, 2024

Fuck you Joaquín Torres. You don’t get to rip my heart out that way. You don’t get to end this without looking me in the eyes. Why? Why would you make me fall in love with you if you knew this would end? Why would you promise me forever when you never meant it to begin with? Tell me. Write a fucking letter and answer me!

I deserve the truth. All of it.

I know you are struggling and won’t tell me. I know you’re fighting for your life to keep up with the demands of the airforce and like to pretend you’re fine. But you’re not fine baby. You can’t lie to me and pretend nothing’s wrong. You just…you can’t do that to me. Please. Let me in amor, let me help.

I love you Joaquín.

I need you.

-Tu corazón

FIVE YEARS LATER

The coffee tasted much more bitter than what you remembered. A biting darkness that burned the back of your throat as you gulped down what you could in the fifteen minutes you had for lunch. Whatever food you packed sat forgotten about in your fridge. Another day rushing to the office, another day wandering the streets of a city you could paint with your eyes closed.

A piece of you echoed with the voices of all who came before you. Friends you made, found family that adopted you as their own. Streets overflowing with scents of arroz con pollo and Jamaica flowers boiling away in kitchens—open windows begging for some fresh air.

July scorched the streets with heat you learned to endure. Yet this year felt worse. A curse bestowed upon the people of New York without rhyme or reason.

You pressed a piece of ice to your neck, dabbing at the sweat sliding down your chest. In the hopes you might find some relief from this torture you were forced to endure. Working in an office that barely payed you enough for the rent of your apartment and was far too cheap to put money towards a working air conditioner. You calculated the numbers for them. They could afford it.

“Fuck the heat,” you moaned, wincing with the heat of your coffee.

“That skirt’s sexy mami.”

The sound of her voice was unmistakable. A soft drawled accent of someone who spent her days speaking Spanish more than she did English. You rolled your eyes, digging out another ice cube from what remained in your plastic cup—dropping it in between your breasts with a hiss.

“Tell me why we’re out here?” you asked, shifting as the ice slid lower, finding a spot beneath your breast.

She dropped onto the bench, yanking off a black blazer that looked like hell to be wearing. “Because if I have to spend another day in a court house I’m going to blow my brains out.”

“You work in a court house Clara.”

“Callate. Don’t fucking remind me.”

Her ebony curls were gathered at the top of her head, pinned in place with a familiar teal butterfly clip you lent her a year prior. At this point asking for it back felt irrelevant. She looked better with it than you ever did—never quite learning how to pin it effortlessly like her.

“We’re going out tonight,” she announced between swipes of lipstick, fixing makeup that was primed to perfection.

With a sigh you dug for another ice cube. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.” Her compact clicked shut. “I rarely see you anymore. Plus Michael got the night off so he’s joining us.”

“And where exactly are you dragging me?”

“Dancing.”

You groaned, sinking into the bench far enough to be drowned by the floor. Swallowed whole into the center of Earth—an escape from being whatever you forced yourself to pretend. An adult with a clear path, someone moved on from a heartbreak that ripped you to pieces, someone whole. Yet asking for that felt as if you were signing a life altering contract with gods who weren’t listening to your cries of anguish.

Clara knew you were suffering—she could see the exhaustion on your face—but her specialty was never empathetic talks. She spoke with actions. Loud, boisterous, displays of affection. Like dragging you around town when all you were concerned about was getting home to feed your cat.

“I don’t-”

“Think so,” she mimicked, clicking her tongue. “Ay Dios how many times are you gonna use that fucking excuse?”

“What excuse?” you exclaimed, fixing her with a glare she brushed off with a sigh.

“You need to resurrect yourself. I know you don’t want to talk about him—and I won’t—but you deserve to move on. He became a superhero-”

“Don’t even get me started.”

“Then why aren’t you letting yourself finally meet a future where you get to thrive?”

She was right. You knew every word out of her mouth echoed with enough truth to stab you in the chest. Five years passed before your very eyes and you barely gave yourself a chance to breathe. He’d been your best friend, your partner in crime all these years, and to live a life without him in it felt like a betrayal. Only you weren’t the one to issue the blade, you weren’t the one to open a wound so large it took everything in you not to bleed before her now.

The trail of red followed you on the bleak path ahead. A future without love, a life half lived.

He existed in the world as a hero—a monolithic piece of history the world clamored for. You were merely a mark on a past he might never mention, a brief lapse of youthful hope diminished by powers you held no control over.

What good was it to forget yourself? He certainly didn’t miss you; he barely even thought of you. Yet somewhere along the way you gave him every ounce of strength you should have reserved for yourself.

With a sigh you tossed the empty cup into the trash beside you. “Fine.”

She laughed with a glee that helped break through your melancholy stupor. “Let’s go mami!”

“Where are we going?” And with one word she sealed your fate.

“Siempre.”

The heels were a bad idea, the short silk mini dress was a bad idea, the whole night reeked with poor decisions you should have caught a mile away. Clara shoved you into a green dress yanked from the back of her closet—a forgotten gift she claimed. Only to leave you alone at the bar, her golden yellow nails burrowed into Michael’s arm to drag him deep into a mass of people you tried to avoid.

Your mezcal was tepid, a rim of lipstick decorating the edge of the glass covered in your fingerprints. The music blared loud enough to leave a high pitched ringing in your left ear—a thumping bass causing the floor to tremble with each new song.

You had half a mind to leave, already a sweaty mess just standing listlessly by the bar in a meager attempt at the fun you once had. The same joy that happened right in this very club. But tonight felt different—an energy you couldn’t name that stuck to your tight chest.

“One more,” you called over the music, tapping your glass with a nail coated in chipped polish.

“I’ll get hers.”

You stiffened, his voice washing over you like a bucket of ice dumped atop your head. For a brief moment you wondered if it finally happened, if you reached the point of hearing him when he was nowhere to be found. A dreadful hope that lingered in your chest—a dream you couldn’t speak aloud for fear of driving yourself mad. Until he filled your peripheral, a familiar leather coat you would recognize a mile away and dark hair now cropped and cut short enough to alarm you.

“Mi corazon,” he murmured, leaning close enough to invade your senses with his cologne.

The bottle he left with you still sat on your dresser. Coated in five years of dust, untouched and frozen in a time you would give anything to go back to. Your teeth clamped onto the inside of your cheek hard enough to spill copper across your tongue—a disgusting mixture with the tequila you downed moments prior.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you croaked, barely able to look at him.

“I got home last week.”

“Good for you.” The words were biting, harsh enough to make him wince. Satisfaction flooded your veins.

“Clara invited me,” he admitted, stuffing his hands into his pockets—another song blasting off speakers you wished to break. “I thought…she didn’t tell you did she?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed, ducking his head to stare at his warm mezcal, a withered lime precariously placed on the rim. “I wanted to see you corazón.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped.

Music rang in your ears, a deafening echo that suffocated you beneath the weight of all you couldn’t carry. He fell silent, waiting for an indication that you wanted him there. But none ever came. The irony tasted bitter at the back of your mouth—five years later and still you walked a tightrope he promised to keep upright.

He offered you forever. You just never realized how quickly he could take it all back.

The alcohol stirred in your stomach, bile clawing up the back of your throat and suddenly Joaquín showing up out of the blue wasn’t your only problem. You couldn’t be there. You didn’t know how to stand beside him, feel the heat of his body packed in with everyone else—shame digging its talons into your skin with a malice you probably deserved. Neither of you fought for the love to last.

He didn’t fight for you.

“I came to talk to you-”

“I can’t do this,” you rasped, pushing off the bar before he could finish his half formed pathetic excuse.

“Wait.”

A hand curled into the satin fabric along your back—your quick movements pulling him into the fray. You itched to twist away, remove any trace of his touch that begged to seep into sticky skin and taint the sporadic beating of your heart.

The wall of people stopped you in your tracks, their bodies moving with fluid grace. They called to you, whispered notes of a siren song you could hear beneath the rush of blood in your ears. A thumping promise that banged against a door you sealed shut. You knew it wouldn’t fix anything—only a guarantee to make matters worse—but there was no ignoring what beckoned you forth.

Joaquín called after you, shoving his way through a drunk crowd that barely noticed he was there. You could feel him at your heels, breath fighting its way into your lungs with each punctured gasp—a ragged need for something other than this heat.

His hand curled around your hip, nose buried at the base of your neck.

“Dance with me?” he mumbled.

You allowed your eyes to slip shut, breath spilling past parted lips as the taste of tequila permeated the tip of your tongue. “I hate you,” you sighed, fingers tangling with his.

“Lo se.”

“Then why did you come back?”

The sway of his body behind yours echoed with comfort—that night burned into the back of your mind. “You.”

He spoke with sincerity. A coveted admission he buried the day he wrote those words—his fate sealed with such a tiny stamp. The years may have dragged by, his head barely above water, but the truth still remained. The mere knowledge that you existed somewhere on this Earth—a piece of him left to drag yourself out of the hell he created—broke him little by little. Until he woke up one day, struggling to breathe.

Dancing with Joaquín felt natural. Years spent bar hopping and sneaking into club back entrances weren’t something you could forget with ease.

“It’s not that easy,” you retorted, voice thick and throat constricted. “You don’t just get to…”

“Mírame corazón.”

“No.” The gasp at his touch twirling you slowly in arms you once longed to feel around your waist said otherwise.

There was no fighting something your heart ached for, a pitiful longing you felt claw at the pit of your stomach. The closeness of it, the heat pouring off his body—his hands guiding your hips into a motion the both of you understood better than words spoken in anger. You wanted to hate him. Some parts of you did.

The razor thin line of hate and love blurred as he fit you against his body. A missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for.

He possessed your soul with each step, fingers tangling into his shirt to keep yourself upright. The awkward playfulness that arose like before was nowhere to be found. This time you knew the stakes. He understood the consequences that came with making his choice and he had to live with it every day of his life. Fixing what might forever remain broken would take more than a dance, but it was somewhere to start.

“I fucking missed you,” he whispered—throat tight, constricting his words. He wanted to say more than this, more than words that rang with a hollow truth you might never believe again.

What was stopping you from walking away and leaving him in your past?

What kept you in his arms, following the swivel of hips he craved to grip through the years?

“Joaquín,” you breathed, eyes half lidded and sweat glistening in the orange glow.

“Etérea.”

You pulled away, the hint of lips curled into a grin flashing in darkness he had to squint through. The memories were falling into place. Forgotten joy, carefree moments scattered across a life spent together. He trailed after you for years, determined to love you up to his final breath; if only you understood how quick he might have fulfilled that promise. The reason he crawled his way back—pain splintering along his spine, purple hued bruises now a soft yellow along paled skin.

Tugging you back with a chuckle, he felt the anger wash off your body as you collided with him. His chest snug against your arched back. This was his home. The one place he never dared tell another soul about—too afraid it might disappear.

The gasp you let out was ragged, marred by all the grief he put you through. “I…”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you too,” you relented, head falling back to his shoulder—the mouth you dreamed about finding purchase on your neck.

This felt like a betrayal of yourself. The past five years spent battling demons you never thought could exist in your life. He tore you to pieces with just a few words. Paragraphs of messy ink forever stained in the back of your mind. You could still feel the fucking paper under your fingers—splotches of tears discoloring the pen he used.

How could you allow him to drag you back? But you were tired of pretending to be okay. Exhausted by piteous smiles and pathetic excuses to bring you back to life.

You were stumbling down a dangerous path; his teeth digging softly into salt coated skin that haunted him in dreams. The prick of his incisors scraping along your vein jolted what little sense remained into place—your heart thundering an erratic beat in your chest. He still moved with you, hands securely placed on your hips, body molded to your back until you felt his jeans dig into you.

Waiting on a soldier like me shouldn’t be your future. So I’m doing what’s necessary.

“Stop-” Abruptly he stopped, his touch falling limp at his sides. “No I can’t… We can’t.”

“Joaquín!” Clara’s voice punctured through the thick atmosphere of lust—the wanton need for him washing away with each wave of pain. “You made it.”

“Excuse me,” you muttered, dragging in breath after breath until you lungs burned with the effort. The sting was good, it kept your head above water.

Ramming through the throngs of people you staggered towards the bathrooms. Everyone was far too preoccupied with dancing to crowd the bathrooms and your luck finally came to fruition when you saw an empty hallway. Half worded apologies spilled out of your mouth, tears burning your already hot cheeks as you moved fast enough to send a searing ache down one ankle.

Joaquín’s stomach lurched, his feet already moving before his body could catch up. Michael’s arm looping around his shoulder kept him where he stood, his eyes tracking your stumbling form until the crowd swallowed you whole. Leaving him to agonizingly swallow the stone now stuck at the top of his esophagus.

You were hurt—fighting five years of pain—and he was the one to cause it.

“How was the flight man?”

He snapped to attention, slapping a fake grin on his face he hoped would be enough to sell the lie. “Flight was good. Cramped with all the people.”

“What you didn’t get first class?” Clara teased. “I thought being an Avenger came with perks.”

“Not an Avenger. Well…not yet.”

“Gettin’ too busy for us New York folk huh,” Michael pressed.

Joaquín didn’t hear a word they said, too focused on where you went, what you were doing, how he could rectify his stupid fucking mistake. “Ya cállate hombre. I’m never too busy for you guys.”

“Could have fooled us.” Clara sipped at her drink, a brown lined mauve smile glinting with a voracious sneer he’d seen before. A look reserved for those who warranted such revenge. “I saw you two dancing.”

“Yeah…we were-”

“Too bad she’s already taken isn’t it?” she sighed, the saccharine pitch of her voice slowing the music as a low pitched buzz blaring in his ears.

“W-What?”

“She’s dating someone. A guy from her office. They met a year ago I think? Bueno, we’re thinking wedding bells soon. Since it’s been so long.”

Joaquín’s heart stuttered, mind blaring with a barrage of anger he shut away—self hatred he’d grown familiar with. Time came to a stop, the thumping music falling away, and suddenly he was back in the air. Falling to his death. Your face, your laugh, your voice, whispering in the back of his head—calling him to stay alive. Beckoning him home with wide eyes and forgiveness coated on your tongue.

You couldn’t be lost to him so soon. You were supposed to wait for him.

Only those were fictitious dreams procured in a fractured mind. You didn’t have to do anything. He let you go. And there was no fixing what he destroyed—a grave he dug for himself now lingering with the scent of your perfume, the ghost of your touch haunting him.

“But…” Struggling for air, he straightened his spine—heart twisting beneath the weight of his fuck up. “Wedding bells?”

Clara nodded. “She didn’t tell you?”

The anger was seething in his chest, scorching each vein, clamping around his lungs. “No. That wasn’t mentioned.”

“Pity,” she muttered. “Michael? Another drink mi amor?”

His feet were moving before she could finish her question, hands pushing past drunk people and sweaty bodies lost to the beat of the music. Somewhere in the club you were running to escape a future he now knew could never be. He knew being calm, level headed enough to push through this haze of red, was the only option at this point. But there was no reasoning in love, no sense to be had when you were so close.

Someone cussed at him in Spanish as he managed to make it to the hallway, pushing open the bathroom door without hesitation. You stood alone by the sink. Wiping at tears that refused to stop—your eyes tinged red with how rough you were on yourself. Only when the click of the lock echoed in the small space did you finally look up, finding his reflection in the mirror—your lips twisted into a frown.

“Occupied,” you spit out, yanking another towel from the dispenser.

“Corazón-”

“I don’t want to hear it Joaquín.”

“Five minutes.”

“No. What do you think I don’t want to hear it means? I’ve had enough of the fucking mind games for one night-”

“Escuchame.” The word bit out from the back of his throat, freezing you in place. “What do you want me to say huh? I’m sorry for being an asshole? I’m sorry for fucking up the best part of my life?”

“You were an asshole,” you retorted.

“I know that.” He took three steps, pinning you to the sink, a look you wanted to recognize but couldn’t painting his features. “I know I’m gonna spend every day of my existence apologizing for the shit that I pulled. But what I didn’t know was the truth.”

“What truth are you-”

“Marriage?” he growled like the word dripped with enough sin to kill him on the spot. “You’re practically engaged and chose to dance with me like that? Like I still had a chance?”

Your jaw hung open, mind reeling as the word hit you. “Marriage?” you exclaimed. “Who the fuck…”

“Clara practically jumped for joy with the news.” The laugh dripped with contempt, fingers curling into the edge of the sink as he moved close enough to smell the tequila on your tongue. “I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid.”

“I’m not getting married.”

“Mentirosa,” he huffed.

“Joaquín you’re being insane-”

“Am I?” he snapped. “You’ve driven me insane. Since I lost you I’ve felt pieces of myself disappear.” He dropped his forehead to yours, the warm wash of his breath brushing along your lips—begging for the oxygen you stole when he let you go. “You gotta tell me corazón. Tell me who he is.”

Believing that Clara wouldn’t get involved somehow was ignorance on your part, but some selfish part of you wanted to watch him suffer. To see him break as you did years ago.

Perhaps it was bad of you, a sinister part of your mind speaking, and yet you couldn’t let go of what Clara started. Marriage to a fictitious man—enough of a reality to prove that you were better. That you could live without Joaquín taking up space in your life.

“So you can confront him? I don’t think so.”

Words that only seemed to rile an unforgiving beast buried in the depths of a gentle man. “Someone has to tell him you’re mine.”

Your breath hitched, an all too familiar siren call dragging you to the bottom of an ocean you traversed long ago. “I’m not…”

“Sí lo eres.”

Yes. You were his.

There was no use denying what you could feel in a heart that would forever be carved with his initials. Sacred with its thorns and roots, it drew you to him, captured you with the vow of all he promised before shit fell apart. You were his. You couldn’t even fathom belonging to anyone else. And he knew it the moment your eyes flicked up to meet his—those brown irises you ached for.

“Yeah…” His hand cupped your chin, thumb pulling at a pliable bottom lip willing to fall open. “You know it don’t you bebita?”

“Joaquín-”

Music thumped with a bass loud enough to rattle the walls of this small bathroom, but you could barely hear it over the sound of his heavy exhale. His lips caught yours, hand tightening at the soft breath you pushed into his open mouth—tongue sliding along teeth and taste buds still coated in mezcal. Sucking in air you dug a hand into curls you tugged years ago; still the same man you loved, yet someone entirely different.

A person you longed to know.

You lost all sense when a hand tugged at the skirt of your dress, pushing it up past your hip with a muffled groan. The kisses burned you inside, curling a fist around an already bleeding heart. He devoured you, swallowed each sound and quick pant as you looped your arms around his neck to extinguish the space between your bodies. Fingers dipped beneath the elastic waistband of panties he’d admire later, too intent on the feel of your damp patch and pooling slick.

“Fuck I missed you,” he sighed, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your throat, palm tipping your head back with a pleased hum. “So wet corazon.”

“I n-need-”

“I know.” Licking a line down your jugular you felt whatever anger still simmered beneath the surface vanish—wanton lust blinding you to the mess this would create. “I’ve been thinking about this. How you feel.”

You moaned, hips pushing into his touch. “Please. Touch me.”

“I am touching you,” he smiled, fingers sliding along your twitching clit with ease—able to rip sounds from you that had gone dormant the day he left. “That what you want? Need that pretty clit played with?”

Nodding frantically wasn’t good enough for a man who dreamed of this moment since departure. He gripped your cheeks, thumb running along a cheek decorated in soft gold glitter courtesy of Clara. A small showing of reverence for the man who toyed with your folds, dipping a finger into your slick and dragging it up slow enough to send shivers up your spine.

“I want words.”

“I-I want you to…”

“To what?” he asked far too smug in the way heat flooded your face, burning the tips of your ears and back of your neck.

Yanking at his curls, you watched in fascination when his head fell back, a groan bubbling past swollen lips. “I want you to make me cum on your fingers,” you breathed, lips pressed to a red flushed ear.

He smiled, dazed by the tight grip in which you held him. “As you wish.”

You should have seen it coming the second you released him, how his lips mashed to yours with a grunt, two fingers plunging into your dripping cunt down to his knuckles. Exactly what you asked for on his terms. You wanted to finish and Joaquín was nothing if not competent in that job. The order falling smooth from your mouth—his mind latching onto it with a desperation you’d never seen in him before.

The heel of his hand ground against your clit, trapping you on the edge of that all too familiar rush of bliss. You were right there. Chasing the edge of something mind numbing. By the hands of a man who ripped you apart, leaving you behind with nothing but blunt words and faded ink.

“That it?” Your body pitched forward, face burying into his shoulder when his fingers struck perfectly. “Yeah that’s it huh.”

“I’m gonna—fuck—g-gonna cum.”

He doubled down, practically ripping the high from you with a voracious need to see you break for him. To burn his name in the walls of your fluttering cunt that coated his palm in your slick. Even through the loud echo of music you could hear the wet squelch of his fingers pounding into you, possessing you in a way that was bound to leave you a shell of yourself.

“Soak my hand,” he breathed against the shell of your ear.

Your thighs trembled, clamping down around his wrist as it tore through you. A muffled shout pressed between teeth you sunk against his neck—marking him with the harsh lines of your canines. The music faded, everything else deafened by the ringing in your ears, the wash of bliss far too much for you to take. It wasn’t until your hand gripped his did he finally cease his movements, pulling away to give you a chance for fresh air not plagued by the scent of his cologne.

“W-Wait.”

“Take your time querida.”

“We shouldn’t…” Reality crashed onto your shores with a harsh sweep that nearly dragged you beneath darkened waves you couldn’t navigate alone.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not in the heat of passion with minds muddled by alcohol and adrenaline, not when he still refused to acknowledge that whatever occurred beforehand wasn’t for the best. You were lost, begging for him to lead you somewhere safe. To protect you against the darkness that ravaged your mind for five years. Instead he allowed jealousy to get the best of him.

You were his without question. But at what cost?

“I need some air,” you gasped, pushing him back until you could stand on shaky legs.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Everything. “I just need air.”

You needed far more than that. Something that would cure the agonizing pain coursing through your veins, the buzz of pleasure and alcohol barely making a dent. You cringed at the slick smearing along the crease of your thighs as you walked—the consistent throbbing where his fingers hooked into you drove your mind to the brink of something worse than madness. He owned you in a matter of minutes; reminded you exactly where you belonged.

“Stop fuckin’ running,” he called after you, pushing past the crowd.

Clara caught your gaze for a brief moment, concern flashing to the surface before you shook her off. Making a beeline for the only exit people practically poured out of. The air felt cold along your skin, drying the sweat along your arms and legs. And he rushed out after you, close on your heels—snapping at a chance to corner you.

To finally hash out what should have been said five years ago.

“Will you look at me?”

Sucking in a breath, you struggled to calm the overbearing rush in your ears. “Just…let me breathe please.”

“Mi vida-”

“No!” you snapped, whirling around to catch his stunned face. Everything unraveled faster than you could gather it in your shaky palms, slipping between spread fingers and raw nails that clung to peace. “You return after five years of silence and what? You expect me to forgive you? Just like that?”

The echo of your voice traveled down the street, attracting attention from whoever was closest, but you’d breached the point of complacent false smiles and sweet words void of feeling. He’d ripped you to shreds in mere sentences. Sliced through a lonely heart with something he knew would destroy what parts of your relationship held on despite the distance.

“I was willing to wait for years Joaquín,” you sobbed. “But you couldn’t even handle a few fucking months. You were too much a goddamn coward to break up with me the night you left.”

“Do you think I wanted to break up with you?” he snarled.

“Yes-”

“Me vuelves loco.” He’d been reduced to muttering under his breath, hands tugging at his hair as you wiped at the tears with sweaty palms. Love wasn’t supposed to be this. A knife neither of your held onto, plunging into wounds that never stopped bleeding. But he couldn’t stay away.

Who was he without you in his life?

“Maybe you just have to let me go-”

“Don’t you finish that fucking sentence,” he spit between clenched teeth. “You think I wanted to be without you for five years? That life was easy without hearing your voice or seeing your face? That you were alone because of the choice I made? I hate myself for destroying us! I can’t let you go because I’m desperately hopelessly in love with you. You can’t fix that corazón.”

Your breath hitched, familiar words spoken a lifetime ago here in this very spot. “It hurts Joaquín. Being near you is strangling me.”

“Then tell me what I can do. You have to tell me so I can fix it.”

“I don’t know if you can,” you whispered.

Taking the final few steps, he finally stood toe to toe with you—a calloused hand reaching for the curve of your cheek glistening with makeup and tears beneath the dim streetlight. “I’m nothing without you. I just existed for five years until I saw you again.”

His touch was warm, enticing in all the familiar ways that transformed the reasons you fell for him. Even as you shattered before him, there was still comfort to be found in his presence. He was the sunlight on a warm summer day. The reason you bloomed in the seasons of friendship and almosts and forgotten saccharine love. You couldn’t remain tied to the ground without him acting as gravity—twining himself around your broken form to keep you safe.

Even if he was the reason you bled along the cracked pavement below.

Perhaps it was a mistake, a memory you’d look back on in another five years. But he’d been your path since you found his eyes in a crowded classroom. His smile painted across cheeks that flushed red when you asked if he’d like to sit with you—if he’d take the first step in a thousand, start the story and watch it unfold before you.

“Okay,” you breathed, lost in the brown hue that still gleamed after all this time.

The apartment was stuffy after hours of relentless summer heat. A broken fan you never bothered to fix sat precariously on a stack of worn books picked up at the local thrift store. Joaquín thumbed through a familiar title he remembered snagging off your bookshelf in your old bedroom. The pages were yellowed, corners folded and re-straightened, but he could recall the story as if he was back in that old house listening to your family through the walls.

“How’d I know you pick that one,” you mused, discarding your purse onto a slightly messy kitchen table.

“Can’t help that I love it.”

You smiled. “Even though I never let you borrow it.”

“Never said I had to give it back,” he retorted, leaving it on the small wooden table by your counter, making a note to stick it in his back pocket when you weren’t looking. “The place looks…the same.”

“And that’s bad?” He snapped to attention, stomach jumping. Only to melt at the shining grin you gifted him in the yellow glow of your lamps. “Eres tan fácil.”

Laughter came easier the closer it got to midnight, the familiar warmth of your apartment echoing with memories he wouldn’t soon forget. “Mala.”

If he closed his eyes that night existed with a clarity that punched the air out of his chest. The quick pace you fell into one another—uncaring of what might come to pass. You were reckless in love, desperate to finally feel the touch held back for so long, the longing that was bound to snap. He could smell the perfume you wore, taste the drink you were nursing before Michael pushed him to dance with you. How you sounded beneath him, looked and tasted and touched after years of pure imagination.

Tonight sparked with a charged past ready to play out before your very eyes. A moment in time neither of you could ignore for much longer.

“Water?” you asked breaking the weighty silence.

He shook his head, eyes dark with a familiar need you’d seen once before. “I wanna talk. Like we used to.”

“Talk…” Sucking in a breath, you wiped at the sweat gathering along your chest. Joaquín followed the slow movement with rapt attention—his mouth dry and chest thundering with a restless heart. “What’s there to say? I already know what you’ve been up. Congrats by the way.”

The words were dry off your tongue. A silver tipped blade pressed to the base of his neck.

How could he blame you? When the reason he left you forged a direct path to who he became. The title he carried across his back as he struggled for air.

He wouldn’t be Falcon if he stayed. But he also might have been happy.

“You’re the first person I wanted to tell,” he said softly, admitting what he harbored in a cracked heart for years.

Your heart twisted, stomach fluttering in that old way it used to when you’d catch sight of him. Frustrating. Even as you relished in emotions you longed for after he left. Hope that this would turn into more—a future you could count on. Rather than a consequence you never asked for. Sleeping with him wasn’t the problem; neither was loving him. Even if he never returned you would regret making those choices, pieces of your life that set your heart on fire.

“You could have. If you stayed.”

Joaquín sighed, fingers curling into fists as he gnashed at his cheek. “I know. You never asked about me.”

“What,” you blurted out.

“Micheal knew where I was. He kept in touch. You could have asked him.”

You scoffed. “And who broke up with who again?”

“I wasn’t going to make you wait on me corazón. Being a ball and chain isn’t who I am and you know that. You had a whole life ahead of you. Things you planned to do before that night-”

“What life?” you exclaimed, voice pitched high enough to scratch an already raw throat. “I was broken for five years! Time I’ll never get back. All for what? So you could feel better about a decision you made on a whim? Without asking if that’s what I wanted.”

Ripping open yet another wound he felt his heart give out at the shine of tears on your face. Makeup smudged along the rim of your wet eyes, lips smeared with the remnants of a lipstick he knew was stained along his shirt. You were everything he wanted in life, the moonlight he basked in at the end of the day. The sirens song he crawled home to hear one last time, even as he drowned beneath a shattered love you might never reciprocate again.

He exhaled long and heavy, wiping at his eyes as he glanced around your darkened apartment. A couch he’d slept on was shoved near the window, a new T.V. mounted on the wall was turned off, and an old record player he helped you find now set on a rickety stand. Records piled on a coffee table he could remember eating off of before you found a kitchen table.

A home you built in the time he was gone. One that was always meant to be entwined with his possessions and memories.

Orange flowers sat in a familiar crystal vase his mother used to keep by the kitchen window. Always a new bouquet brought in from his father at the end of a long work week. Music flowing between the walls of a house he now stayed in as he fought to prove himself to you all over again. A past that you lingered in without knowing.

“Cempasúchil.”

You caught what he was fixed on—a small gathering of flowers from the corner you grabbed without thinking. A routine you’d grown to love even after years of his absence.

“For your pops. You said they were his favorite.”

His heart dropped. “You still bring him flowers?”

“I go every Friday with your mamá.”

Every Friday…

Five years of days spent with his family. Even after things fell apart.

He loved you.

He would love you til his last breath, the final beat of a heart that always belonged to him from the very first page. There was no denying a truth that couldn’t be buried in the depths of guilt and grief. Pain laced with memories that clung to apartment walls and city streets. You were his forever. His soul twisted around a body carved with your name.

“Siempre te amaré,” he whispered.

The gasp sounded sweet off lips he could still taste. “Joaquín-”

“I do,” he confessed. “There hasn’t been a day I haven’t loved you mi corazón.”

“You can’t just say that.”

“Why?” he demanded.

Slowly you lowered yourself into a chair that was once stuffed into the corner of his living room. “Because we still have to talk about what this is. What we’re gonna do to figure it out while you’re home.”

“What this is? I know what it is. I’ve known since you asked me to sit next to you. I’m yours. I’ve been yours all along.” He dropped to his knees quicker than either of you expected, his hands grasping the warmth of your thighs through sweat stained satin. “I got hurt mi vida.”

Your body stilled, hands cupping his cheeks as fear threaded between each rib and nerve. “What?”

“I…I was stupid and made a mistake and they had to stitch me back together. But I couldn’t care about any of it. Not the fucking pain, or surgery, or having to recover for months, because when I was falling out of the sky…all I could think about was you.”

How quickly you could have lost him and you never knew. You weren’t there when he was struggling to live. You weren’t there when he woke up. You…weren’t there.

“I-I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I didn’t know. I would have come to you-”

“No, no está bien. Yo estoy bien.”

“You almost died and you’re saying it’s okay?”

He smiled, forehead pressing to your stomach—fingers digging into what flesh he could hold as you clung to him. Some part of you sunk your teeth into the fear of losing him, dragging it close to swallow down that feeling. Every emotion, all the pain it kept you alive. It let you know he was there with you and for the first time in five years you held the choice of forever in your hands once more.

There he was offering you everything he was. All he could be, all you knew he was.

The man you were always destined to fall into.

“It is okay,” he murmured. “Because I’m here with you. And I didn’t think I’d get that again. I’m home.”

This is where belonged. The space that called him forward and you watched his eyes raise to find yours. Love shining in irises that haunted his waking life. Everywhere he went Joaquín saw you. In the midnight sky, in the summer days spent on a stuffy base somewhere, in the people he met and allies he formed. You existed in all that encompassed him—a soul he’d struggle to find and vow to keep.

“Rip me apart mi vida. Destroy me as many times as you want. I’ll do anything you want if it means stayin’ with you.”

“Mi amor,” you said beneath a soft breath and his heart mended itself with a shaky ragged gasp.

He rose to meet your lips as your fingers scrambled to find purchase in his jacket, tugging him close enough to nearly tip the chair back. If it fell he’d be there to catch you. Perhaps that’s what had your legs sliding up around his hips, a soft moan pressed to a tongue that slid along yours. The taste of you drove him off the brink of what kept him sane—all the attempted to stow inside an aching heart.

Licking into your mouth with a broken whimper, he dragged you to the edge of the chair, hands kneading at the top of your ass. You yelped into it with a smile, diving into the kiss with a fervor that had him leaking into his jeans. The heat from earlier pooled along his spine again and Joaquín knew he’d barely survive sinking into you; he could feel his cock twitch with every stroke of your tongue.

“Bedroom,” he gruffly got out, yanking you up onto wobbly legs. “‘M not fucking you in the kitchen. Not tonight.”

You grinned, tugging him down an all too familiar path. “There’s going to be more than one night?”

“If I have any say about it.”

“Eres bien creído.”

Hands ripped at your dress, pulling it up and off your body before he could even reach the bed slightly messy with rumpled covers. A staple he could always remember. It made him smile against your lips as you tugged at his clothes—those same warm hands sliding along bare skin. The jacket was left by the door, shirt tossed to the depths of your room and Joaquín placed you on the mattress before reaching for his belt.

Chills rippled along your back at the sound, heart hammering in your chest. He looked the same. Yet something older was housed in his stance, someone who was sure of himself in the way he pushed away the last of his clothes. A grin bloomed across swollen lips.

You admired him as much as you could. Dragging your eyes down to the red tip of his leaking cock and breathlessly finding his eyes in the dark of your bedroom. Last time neither of you got this chance. A moment of stillness before you collided. Silence thick with an electrifying tension you felt down to your toes.

Lifting a bare leg, you placed your foot on his stomach, dragging it down until his hand wrapped around an ankle—tugging you close with a harsh breath.

“Being a tease huh?” he mumbled, lips finding a home at the top of your thigh.

“Not my fault you’re easy to mess with.”

“Since when?”

You smiled, fingers curling around his mussed hair. “Since always.”

Words slipped to the back of a clouded mind when his hands tugged at the lace of your panties, sliding them off and marveling at the wet spot left behind. He could practically taste you on his tongue. The addicting tang of what he’d been craving since he left you at that airport. With a shuddered breath he slid a thumb along your folds, circling your clit hard as you writhed under his needy touch.

“W-Want you inside me,” you forced out, hips rolling into his hand.

Somehow through the haze of lust he made himself follow through with your plea. Hand positioning himself along the dripping hole he’d drink from later—his tongue swiping along his bottom lip. You were mewling for him, fingers twisting into the sheets and legs dropping open wide enough to accommodate his hips.

He slid along your cunt, grinning with unhinged glee at the loud moan ripped from your throat. You were unable to beg. Mouth barely forming coherent words as he toyed with your pulsing clit. Precum stained the pretty clean skin of your inner thigh, smearing a mess into the hair he was desperate to bury his nose in.

“Say it for me yeah?” he muttered, voice deep with gravel.

A gasping moan hit his ears, your chest heaving. “Please. Fuck me. Come in me. Just p-please do something-”

“Sh, sh. I know mi corazón. You’re empty without my cock huh?”

You nodded, yanking him close enough to feel his chest against yours. “Need it baby. Need you to stuff me full.”

“Mierda-” The near painful twitch of his cock had him burying his face into your neck, teeth scraping against the delicate chain of your necklace. Until he caught sight of silver tucked between your breasts, hidden by the black lace of your bra—a piece of himself he thought he’d never see again.

Only when he was ripping at your final item of clothing did you drag yourself through the thick fog. “W-What’s wrong-”

“You kept them,” he breathed, lips mashing to yours and hand roughly kneading your breast with a grunt. “Wore them the whole fuckin’ time tonight and I didn’t know.”

You wanted to explain that they were all you had left of him, a comfort after all this time. But his mouth closing around your nipple shut down everything but the sparks rushing along veins you didn’t know could exist. He sucked at your skin, teeth indenting into the softness of your breast. That desperate hunger shoving to the forefront—something you could feel wrap around the length of your spine.

He rutted into you, cock brushing where you needed him most, but you couldn’t let go of those words. There was no world where you wouldn’t love him.

No plane of existence you’d be where he wasn’t.

“They’re yours,” you gasped, grinding against him—head tipped back as his teeth scraped your throat. “I’ve always worn them. Since you—fuck baby—sent them to me.”

Whatever he could have said vanished, his mind going white at the thought of you wearing his dog tags from the very beginning. Five years of holding him over your heart. Time he believed to be filled with a cold resentment suddenly colored itself with a flushed pink haze—a dreamlike state he drowned in with a smile painted across his face. You loved him. Even through all this…it would always be him.

He sunk into you in one thrust and you cried out, clinging onto his shoulders at the sudden stretch, his hips meeting yours and head falling to your chest. A muffled fuck pressed between the curve of your breasts—tongue licking the bead of sweat along skin that glistened in the yellow haze of your bedroom. Breath twisted in your lungs, trapping what oxygen remained as he snapped his hips down into you again. Dragging out with slow cruel thrusts.

“So fuckin’ good,” he gasped, hand tangling with yours and pressing it into the plush comforter. “Gonna make me lose my damn mind.”

“Baby.” The word was a desperate whine on your lips, thighs wrapped tight around his hips—chest heaving for resuscitation from the plane of bliss he threw you into.

Without a map you feared you’d be lost to its depths. But his teeth digging into your lip kept you close, satiated the tremble going down your limbs.

There was no mercy in how he fucked you. No time for soft reverence and tender quiet moments. That would find its way to you later—when the moon began its descent along the horizon, time reaching far enough to still what small pleasures you could steal. He’d bring you back to life with a tongue buried in slick folds and fingers pumping deep.

Tonight he ravaged, took his fill of what you both craved as the night went on. Two souls verging together at last. Finally found after years of distance—entire galaxies spanning the years he spent away from your touch.

“Listen,” he breathed hotly into your mouth, lips quirking as the sound graced ears unable to discern his voice from the thundering of your own heart.

But he slowed his movements, plunging into you with a biting grunt you felt burn into your lungs. The loud wet squelch of your cunt bouncing off the walls of an apartment privy to this once before. Sinful in its agonizing beauty. He smiled, grinding his hips hard enough to drag a throaty moan from your chest—his lips there to swallow what you offered with glee. Heat burned beneath your cheeks, the tinge of shame digging between ribs and arteries.

Until he dropped to his elbow, your name encased in a high breath—his brows pulled together and teeth indenting the plush bottom lip you longed to suck on.

“S-Shit baby I’m not—fuck-” The word dragged between a clenched jaw as he rapidly pounded into you, the bed creaking from the force you felt with each stroke.

His cock struck against your walls, a creamy slick pouring out to drip down your ass, coating his balls as they slapped against skin he’d dig his teeth into later. A mess. He’d reduced the both of you to a fucking mess, unable to pick through a hazy mind. Each moan you let out grew higher, thighs shaking from the effort, and he ripped away from your touch before you could drag him close. Looping each limb over arms prominent with veins and familiar tattoos.

Mistakes made back in the youth of being nineteen. Time he spent wrapped in any part of you he could get. Even as something more simmered beneath a friendship always destined to change.

“Joaquín-” you sobbed, clutching at any part of him you could reach, his chest and shoulders red with marks from your nails. “I-I’m not engaged.”

He stilled, eyes wide and mouth parted as he panted for air. “You said-”

“I-I could never marry someone t-that wasn’t you.”

A strand finally snapped, edge reached long before you could ask him what created it in the first place. Brown suddenly bled into black and he now fucked you with everything in him. Lips sealed over yours, hand clenching tight around your hips—his coarse hair dragging along a throbbing clit that begged for more. Your walls fluttered around him, a shattered cry lost to his kiss, but nothing had felt so perfect.

“‘M gonna fuckin’ marry you,” he grunted, forehead resting against yours, bending you up and into his body—cock ramming right up into a spot that left you going blind with pleasure. “Make you mine.”

Everything you longed for—five years of love and grief—crashed at the shore of your body. Ripping the final pieces of your heart from the decay it lived with. You came with his name on your lips, back arching up into him hard enough to draw a flicker of pain down your spine—your eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the fabric beneath you.

He collapsed over you with a choked shout, face buried into your neck as he coated your walls with that soft pool of warmth. A feeling you had forgotten about—bliss wrapped in the taut muscles of his arms, his body a heavy weight on yours. You were lost to it, drowning in his scent and taste, but his lips finding yours tied you back down to Earth. His hands sliding along your skin, tongue licking the pain off the back of your teeth.

Joaquín pieced you back together with a love that altered you entirely, shifted all that you were beneath the tidal waves of his heart. Peace settled in the base of a hammering heart—hope finding a home in the bottom of a fluttering stomach.

You loved him.

Eternally.

And that would forever be enough.

Sunlight danced along the bare skin of your back, face pressed into his chest—ear above a steady beating heart. It lulled you to sleep after hours of rekindling a flame that never went out. His hands a burn along your body, lips reacquainting with the dips and curves of your thighs. He sought you out in the early hours of dawn with a stiff cock and groggy pleas for your sweet essence.

Who were you to deny him?

He smiled pressing a kiss to your temple, fingers toying with your ring finger. If he narrowed his eyes in the afternoon light he could see a flash of yellow gold along skin he savored—a hand he clutched with promise. It wouldn’t be too big; nor small enough to hide from inquiring eyes. A perfect set of jewels adorned on a finger he kissed, the piece of you yet to hold his permanent promise.

Till death.

Till he found you in the next life.

Slipping from the tangle of your limbs, he relished the leap of his heart at the sight of you spread along the bed. Naked and at bliss, exhausted from his hunger. He stole another kiss along your spine, finding his way through the familiar path of the kitchen that still lingered with the laughter of memories that painted the walls. Times spent with friends—now turned family—moments he might one day have again.

A faded picture of two young kids at high school graduation was pinned to the fridge door, another of a night spent dancing at some shitty frat party—high off the freedom of adulthood. Two versions of a love he’d could pick out with his eyes shut tight.

Another would set nicely beside them. Of a wedding in a small backyard, an aisle scattered with orange petals and white daisies adorned to his tux—a veil dragging along the floor where you walked towards him. An image that would be placed on altars in memory, an offering set between the frame and candle as he clutched you tight even in the afterlife.

The coffee machine beeped, two mugs set on the counter as he poured, and that’s where you found him. Fussing with the bottle of cream and sugar packets damp from hot liquid. He wore his jeans low on hips you bit at some point in the night—the indent of your teeth marked into skin that would forever wear your mark. Even if you had to place it night after night.

Your arms looped around his waist, lips finding the warm skin of his back. “I wanted to wake up with you.”

He laughed, turning gently in your hold. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You can still surprise me.”

“Yeah?” he grinned, eyes gleaming with a light that caught your breath in the base of your throat. “Got something in mind?”

Life suddenly held a different glow. Contentment filling veins with a something new. A piece that didn’t exist without him near—his love pressing deep and bright into a chest that burned hot. He left you breathless, begging for reprieve. Yet losing yourself to it all the same.

“So…about everything-” He cut you off with a kiss, hand dragging your left palm to his mouth. “Did you mean what you said last night?”

He smiled, at ease with the nerves he could feel beneath your wrist. “If I did?”

“I’d like that,” you breathed.

“Siempre estaras conmigo mi corazón?”

You nodded, heart singing beneath his love. “Si mi amor. I’ll be with you forever.”

©moonlight-prose do not feed my work into ai, do not steal my work, if you are a minor, spam like my fics, or are a blank blog you will be blocked.

#joaquin torres x f!reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x y/n #joaquin torres smut #joaquin torres #my writing

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verstappen-cult · 1 year ago

Note

Having an argument with Max, sounds exhausting. Especially when both of you are stubborn, but guess what? He'd willingly beg for forgiveness if you are still upset with him and avoiding him as a result of the argument

“I can’t do this anymore.” You whisper, shaking your head and taking a step back.

That is what finally makes Max stop dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open with whatever he was going to say next.

You’re tired. You woke up less than an hour ago and the first thing you and Max did was argue. And you really didn’t want to start the day this way, but neither of you backed away. Things escalated quickly and you just can’t do it anymore.

“What are you talking about?” He sounds desperate, his chest heaving. Max clenches his fists by his side, like he wants to reach out.

You turn your head away, eyes filled with tears. “I’m gonna go see my mother. We’ll talk later.”

Max feels paralyzed, he can’t seem to do anything but watch you leave.

It’s past eight when you get home.

The first thing you notice is that the house is lit only by candles. A lot of candles throughout the house.

Max is nowhere to be seen, Jimmy and Sassy are the ones greeting you by passing between your legs. You bend over to pat their heads and give them a few ear scratches.

The more you walk into the house, the more your heart breaks. There on the table is a big bouquet of your favorite flowers along with a small card with the word ‘sorry’ written in Max’s handwriting waiting for you. The table is also set with the chinaware you only use on special occasions, and a few more candles.

When you turn around you see Max curled up on the sofa, your favorite weighted blanket —the one you use when you’re feeling down and Max is away for work— around his shoulders. He looks so cozy, you want to curl up next to him, but you are still a little hurt and angry from the argument you two had in the morning. You’re thinking about what you both said to each other when Max stirs, eyes trying to adjust to seeing in the dim light.

“Hey,” You say as a greeting, trying not to scare him.

Max turns around immediately, surprise crossing his features. “You’re home.”

“Yes? Sorry I didn’t say anything but mom wanted me to help her with gardening.” You shrug, leaving your bag and keys on the table next to the couch.

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway. Max exhales deeply, clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry.” He blurts out, shoulders slumped. Max shuts his eyes tightly, like he’s in so much pain he can barely have them open. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should’ve listened to you—I’m really sorry. I don’t want us to argue like that again, I felt horrible because I love you and I promised myself I would never do something like this.” You let him talk, to spill everything he has inside of him. “After you left—I wanted to go after you but I knew you needed time. But it made me remember how my dad used to talk to my mom, how they would yell at each other while Vic and I hid in our rooms.” You are already moving towards him, even before you hear how his voice breaks.

You sit by his side, leaving some space between you two, hands itching to reach out and touch him, to draw him closer to you and hold him.

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re nothing like him,” You move closer, taking his hands with yours, thumb caressing the back of them. “Don’t you ever dare to go there, okay? You will never be like him, Max. Do you understand?”

But he doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything.

“Max, this is not the first and it’s definitely not going to be the last argument we have. But if we talk about it, if we give ourselves some time to think things through like we did today—this doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or that you are turning into your dad.” You cup his cheek with one of your hands, caressing his cheekbone as you look into his stormy blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” He says again, tears in the corners of his eyes. You smile softly at him when he begs for your forgiveness again.

“Can you forgive me too?”

“Darling, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“Well, you’re wrong there.” You sniff, already feeling the tears wanting to stream down your face. “We were both wrong, don’t take all the blame.” Max opens his mouth to refute, but you shut him up with a kiss. It’s chaste, full of promises, and leaves you with blood pounding in your ears.

“Do you forgive me?”

Max nods, gaze fixed on your lips. “Yes,” He directs his gaze back to your eyes, and you can see so much regret in them. “Do you forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” You tease him by pretending to think about it. “it depends on what you made for dinner.”

A grin spreads across his face and he’s standing up in a second, tugging on your sleeve. “It’s definitely gonna make you forgive me.” He says, pulling the chair out for you to sit. “And if this doesn’t work, I have many other ways to make you forgive me.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x you

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chahnniesroom · 1 year ago

Text

some loves

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

word count: 6.9k

tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic

read it on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.

Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.

He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.

“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”

“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”

“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”

“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”

“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”

“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.

“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”

Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.

There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.

“I’m in,” Chan agrees.

“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”

“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”

“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.

“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”

—

Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.

Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.

“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”

“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.

“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”

“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”

“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”

“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.

“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”

They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.

HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.

“Y/n,” Chan breathes.

You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”

Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.

It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.

It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.

Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.

As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.

You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.

“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”

Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.

“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”

The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.

The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.

You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.

It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.

Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.

“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”

You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”

“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”

You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.

“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.

“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.

Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.

Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.

—

Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.

That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.

In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.

The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.

Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.

Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.

When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.

“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”

Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.

“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.

Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”

“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”

“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”

“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”

“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.

“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”

“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”

“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”

“Please,” Chan pleads.

“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”

It suddenly clicks.

“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”

“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”

“But really, we were never-”

“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”

“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”

“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”

“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”

“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.

“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”

“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”

“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”

“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”

—

A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.

After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.

“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”

That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.

“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.

“What happened?” he prods.

“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”

“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.

“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.

“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.

“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.

“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”

Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.

“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”

“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”

“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”

As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.

At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.

“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”

Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.

Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.

[Received - 8:04pm]

Channie-oppa~

[Received - 8:04pm]

This is Y/nnie

[Received - 8:05pm]

Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/

[Received - 8:09pm]

But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?

Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.

[Sent - 8:10pm]

Hey Y/n!

[Sent - 8:11pm]

No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too

[Sent - 8:13pm]

I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ

[Received - 8:13pm]

Gangdong-gu?

[Received - 8:14pm]

Ohh JYPE

[Received - 8:14pm]

My bad, forgot that you guys moved

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Yeahhh

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry

[Received - 8:18pm]

Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

Wait, really?

[Sent - 8:18pm]

No no no, don’t take the subway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min

[Received - 8:19pm]

Wowow

[Received - 8:19pm]

Private driver?

[Received - 8:20pm]

You’re a real superstar now haha

[Sent - 8:21pm]

alsfjshkafs noooooooo

[Sent - 8:21pm]

It’s just faster

[Sent - 8:21pm]

and safer

[Received - 8:22pm]

I’m not complaining

[Received - 8:22pm]

but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you

[Received - 8:23pm]

If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭

[Sent - 8:24pm]

Knew it

[Sent - 8:25pm]

You’re just using me for my fame

[Received - 8:26pm]

Ah you got me this time

[Received - 8:26pm]

*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks

[Received - 8:27pm]

Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up

[Received - 8:27pm]

Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?

Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.

Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.

[Received - 8:32pm]

?? Speechless that I caught on?

[Received - 8:36pm]

I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped

[Received - 8:40pm]

Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked

[Received - 8:42pm]

It was nice knowing you I guess

When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.

[Sent - 8:53pm]

Sorry, lost track of time

[Sent - 8:53pm]

They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything

[Received - 8:54pm]

Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts

[Received - 8:55pm]

But thanks

[Received - 8:55pm]

Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?

[Received - 8:55pm]

I’m honoured

Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.

“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”

“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.

“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”

“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”

“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”

“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”

“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”

“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”

“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”

It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.

“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”

“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”

“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”

“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.

“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.

“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.

"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."

“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”

"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”

"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."

“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”

“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.

“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”

"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.

"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.

"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"

“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.

“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.

“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.

Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.

“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."

You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"

"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."

"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."

"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."

Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.

Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.

"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"

You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.

"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."

At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.

"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."

read it on ao3 | masterlist

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godricgryffinsnore · 2 months ago

Text

To My Favorite Victim, With Love ♡ : A Fred Weasley Fan Fiction.

pairing : Fred Weasley x fem!reader

summary : A poetic, heartwarming story filled with laughter, mischief, and growing affection as Fred Weasley turns pranks into love notes—and chaos into something unexpectedly tender.

warnings : Light prank-related chaos, Secondhand embarrassment (mild), Excessive fluff, Teasing banter, One (1) very flirty redhead, No major triggers—just a magical whirlwind of soft humor and affectionate mayhem. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3. This is a drabble, i.e., an extremely short fan fiction.

della’s note : Guys, I am really sorry if it’s bad.. I had to write in a hurry, since I had classes the next day. I had started this fan fiction last night, and finished it in 3 hours. This is the fastest I have ever written, lmao. Had these ideas flowing in my mind and had to type it out in a hurry.. Also, I haven’t rechecked anything, so please excuse if there are any grammatical mistakes or spelling mistakes. I promise the next fiction will be thoroughly checked and properly delivered. Thank you for your patience. <3 Again, hope you enjoy <333

word count : 0.6k

main master list <3

banners : @anitalenia and @cafekitsune

The first time it happened, you thought it was an accident.

Your quill burst into violet ink mid-Charms class, painting a constellation of splotches across your essay—and your forehead. You had sputtered and gasped, wiping at your face with the hem of your sleeve. Professor Flitwick, bless his tiny heart, gave you a handkerchief and a sad, sympathetic smile.

But tucked under your textbook, you found it. A tiny square of parchment that read, in curling, careless handwriting:

“To my favorite victim, Consider it art. Love, Fred.”

You’d blushed so hard, you could’ve ignited the entire Ravenclaw common room.

And that was just the beginning.

── .✦

Week by week, prank by prank, Fred Weasley turned your days into mayhem dipped in sugar. Your morning scrolls would unfurl with whoopee cushions. Your socks would chirp if you walked too fast. One time, a bouquet of tulips in Herbology screeched “Marry Me!” every time you touched them.

Each time, the same note:

“To my favorite victim, I’ve missed you. Love, Fred.”

── .✦

“Why me?” you groaned one evening in the library, picking green glitter out of your hair. “Why not Lee Jordan? Or one of your brothers? Or literally anyone else on this godforsaken planet?”

Fred, sitting across from you and pretending to study (he was clearly drawing a dragon wearing glasses), grinned.

“Because,” he said, not even looking up, “you make the best expressions. Like a tragically beautiful pigeon being startled mid-flight.”

George snorted from beside him. “He’s lying. It’s because he’s in love.”

Fred kicked him under the table.

You choked on your tea. “Excuse me?”

Fred didn’t even blink. “He’s clearly projecting.”

“On what?” George asked. “Her lips?”

Fred kicked harder.

── .✦

You tried to resist him. Oh, you did.

But it was hard not to smile when Fred’s pranks began shifting from harmless chaos to heartfelt mischief. A scarf that tightened when you were sad—just enough to hug. A chocolate frog that sang your favorite lullaby. An enchanted journal that doodled little hearts when you wrote his name (which you definitely did not do intentionally, thank you very much).

And always, those notes.

“To my favorite victim, Don’t disappear. Love, Fred.”

── .✦

The moment of surrender came on a Saturday morning.

You stepped into the Great Hall and were immediately bombarded by soft, floating bubbles. Not just any bubbles—each one contained a snapshot of you. Laughing. Reading. Twirling your hair in the library. Staring dreamily out a window. All moments you hadn’t known anyone else noticed.

And in the center of the room, standing tall on the Gryffindor table, wand raised like a conductor, was Fred.

The hall erupted with laughter and a few “awww”s, but all you could see was him.

His grin faltered just slightly when he saw you weren’t running away or turning red.

You walked right up to him, climbed onto the bench (to a chorus of “oooohs”), and stood level with his face.

“Fred Weasley,” you whispered. “I’ve been plotting your downfall for weeks.”

He leaned in, lips a breath from yours. “You’ve been plotting mine? Sweetheart, I’ve been writing poems about yours.”

You kissed him.

Right there. Among bubbles and giggles and floating, glowing moments of your own joy.

── .✦

Later that evening, he handed you one final note.

No glitter. No ink trap. No prank.

Just parchment that smelled faintly like cinnamon and honey:

“To my favorite victim, You were never the punchline. You were the reason I started laughing again. Love, Fred.”

── .✦

And this time, you wrote one back.

“To my favorite mischief-maker, I love you too. But if you dye my hair purple again, You’re sleeping outside with the garden gnomes.”

#della 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley fanfiction

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chrisstvrns · 3 months ago

Text

blurb of chris loving his girl so much, he would do anything for her forgiveness.

warnings: light angst, fluff in the end

word count: 876

chris knew he had fucked up.

and not in the way where he could flash that lopsided grin, mumble out some half-assed "my bad," and wrap his arms around you until you begrudgingly accepted his apology. no, this was the kind of fuck-up that left his phone void of your name, your texts, your voice. it had been three days. three days of silence, three days of you ignoring his texts, leaving his calls to ring out, and worst of all, three days since you had stormed out of his house with fire in your eyes and venom in your words.

matt and nick had given him shit for it. repeatedly. but chris didn’t care about their ribbing—he cared that he hadn't been able to fix it yet.

so, in an act of desperation, he did something he never thought he'd do: he sat down with an actual pen and paper and wrote you a letter. no texting, no notes app draft, no voice memo where he rambled until he hoped he made sense. just ink and regret spilled onto three long pages.

chris folded the letter, sealed it in an envelope, and, with a determined heart, drove over to your place. he carefully placed the letter into your mailbox, texted a simple “i left something for you,” and prayed you’d read it.

you did.

and not only did you read it, but you also grabbed a red pen and went absolutely feral on it.

when chris found the same envelope in his mailbox the next morning, his heart leapt in hope—until he pulled out the letter and saw your handwriting scribbled all over it, ruthlessly correcting his grammar, circling misspelled words, and writing snarky little comments in the margins.

“you don’t blame me? then why did you fight me on it?”

“you should’ve listened to me? damn right. make this a thesis statement instead of burying the lead.”

“good, this part actually sounds like you mean it. keep going.”

and the kicker, written at the very bottom in bold, underlined letters:

“if you can rewrite this and turn it in by tomorrow, i’ll unblock you.”

chris stared at the letter, torn between laughing and groaning in frustration. only you would take his heartfelt apology and turn it into a goddamn english assignment.

he grinned.

challenge accepted.

chris spent the rest of the day hunched over his desk, muttering to himself as he scribbled out a new draft. he had never put so much effort into writing anything in his life, not even the one essay he actually cared about in high school. he read and reread your comments, taking them seriously, and making sure that this time, every word counted.

he started over twice. the first draft felt too stiff, too formal - like he was writing a resignation letter instead of an apology. the second had too much rambling, and you’d already told him not to bury the lead. so, for the third attempt, he took a deep breath and wrote like he was talking to you. like you were right in front of him, arms crossed, waiting for him to say something real.

by the time he finished, his hand was cramping, his desk was covered in discarded drafts, and the clock read 2:14 am. but for the first time in three days, he felt like he had a shot at fixing things.

chris sealed the new letter in an envelope, drove to your place, and left it in your mailbox, yet again. this time, he didn’t text you - just knocked once and walked away, leaving it in your hands.

the next morning, his phone buzzed.

a text from you.

chris’s heart jumped as he unlocked his phone and read the text.

“you passed. barely. but i’ll allow it.”

before he could even think of a reply, another message popped up.

“come over.”

chris didn’t waste time. he was out the door in minutes, barely remembering to grab his keys. the drive to your place felt longer than ever, anticipation and nerves tangling in his chest.

when you opened the door, he barely had a second to register the look on your face before you were pulling him inside, your arms crossing over your chest like you were still debating whether or not to be mad at him.

“well?” you prompted.

chris ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath. “i meant every word.”

you eyed him for a moment before unfolding the letter and holding it up. “this was good,” you admitted, tapping the paper. “and better yet, you actually listened.”

his lips twitched. “had to. i was being graded.”

your glare was half-hearted at best. “i don’t think you understand how close you were to failing.”

chris grinned. “guess that makes this an extra credit assignment,” he said, closing the space between you.

you rolled your eyes, but when he hesitated, waiting for permission, your expression softened. finally, you sighed, tilting your head up just enough to meet him halfway.

“i hate that you’re kinda good at this,” you muttered.

chris smirked. “oh, i’m great at this.”

and when his arms wrapped around you, pulling you in, you didn’t pull away.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: this was made based off of this post by @muwapsturniolo !! finally out of my writers slump (???) i kinda hate this sooo ?

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff #rory's blog𝜗𝜚 #© chrisstvrns #auroras blog𝜗𝜚 #aurora's fanfics ੈ✩‧₊˚#⋆˙⟡ chrisstvrns

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aewon · 4 months ago

Text

do you feel the same way i do about you? pt 2

sunghoon x fem reader genre: fluff wc: 3316 warnings: kissing (like one kiss lmao) talks of counseling (a school counselor) reconciliation, talk of feelings/feeling revelation, if there’s more lmk i don’t think there’s any cursing

note: this is also a repost from my other account @/wonkizz, if you recognize it from there, i did not steal it. also not proofread.

pt 1

Sunghoon has been agonizing for weeks since you ended your “friendship”.

He knows he’s wrong, he’s been wrong all these years, indirectly treating you the way he did.

When he told his friends about what happened, they berated him severely.

“It’s on you to fix it,” Sunoo had said.

He’s been effectively blocked on everything, having no way to contact you. Not to mention, you’ve been great at avoiding him.

He hasn’t caught a glimpse of you since that day.

All he wants is to fix things, but he knows that won’t happen unless he fixes his own behavior and thoughts first.

He’s been talking to a school counselor. Someone who’s there to listen to him rant about how terribly he treated you and how bad he feels.

The counselor, being one to not take sides, at first commended him for recognizing his wrong behavior, but then reconfirmed his thoughts.

He was a bad friend to you, to put it plain and simple.

After talking to the therapist for a few hours, acknowledging how he was wrong, what he can do to change that behavior and how to talk to you, if you’ll even allow it, he knows what to do.

He could go to your apartment, but there’s a slim if not no chance of you opening the door for him.

Instead, he’s chosen to write you a letter.

Sunghoon pours his heart into it, acknowledging all his wrongdoings and essentially begging for forgiveness. He knows he might not get it, but he has to take a chance.

You don’t know what to expect when you see an envelope addressed to you with Sunghoon’s name on it.

Your first thought is to throw it away. That would be the easy thing to do, but a part of you, a big part, wants to see what it is.

As you sit on your couch, envelope in hand, you take a deep breath before opening it.

Inside is a letter, with Sunghoon’s messy handwriting that you used to get on him for.

You start reading, anticipating.

Dear Y/N,

I know you may throw this letter away, but if you choose to read it, please read to the end.

I’m writing to you to apologize for everything.

Not just for what I said at the party, but for our entire time together.

The way I treated you, from the beginning, is not how any friend should be treated.

The reality is, we weren’t real friends. At least, not in my eyes.

To you, I was a friend. To me, you were someone who went along with my every word and whim. I liked the attention, I liked how you did whatever I wanted. I liked the fact that I was everything to you.

I treated you terribly, that’s a fact. I never acknowledged your feelings and instead pushed them aside. I pressured you into situations you were uncomfortable with and never did the same for you. I never really embraced who you are. I chose to overlook you and never treat you with the same respect you gave me.

But the truth is Y/N, you’re a good person. Better than me in ways I might never understand.

I did a lot of thinking and talking over the past couple of weeks without you.

I don’t deserve your forgiveness, nor do I deserve a chance to prove myself to you. But I’ve learned how wrong I was, and I want nothing more than to change that.

Maybe I’ll never really make it up to you, but I want to try.

If you choose to ignore this letter, I understand.

But maybe, if you feel like it’s in your best interest, we could try to be real friends.

I don’t want to say I miss you, without really knowing you.

I want to know the real Y/N.

The one who isn’t pressured to go to parties and be someone she’s not.

I want to know your favorite color. Your real hobbies, how you like spending your time.

I want you to be able to come to me with secrets you’ve never told anyone. I want to be a real friend.

If you’ve made it to the end of this letter, and you want to give me that chance, I’ll be here.

I’m so sorry.

Sunghoon.

You can feel the tears falling from your eyes, dripping down your face, onto your thighs.

You weren’t expecting that. You thought at the very least, Sunghoon might try to apologize, but this was the last thing you’d expect from him.

You take time to truly think about what you want, what’s best for you and your well-being.

Is it viable to give Sunghoon a chance?

Will he hurt you again in the long run?

Part of you is saying yes, while the other says no.

Night falls and you go to sleep, thinking about the very near future and what you’ll choose to do.

Sunghoon is sitting with his friends, when there’s a tap on his shoulder.

You’re standing there, holding tightly onto your bag strap.

He sits up so quickly, he almost falls.

“Hi,” you say.

Sunghoon gathers himself, “Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

He nods immediately, getting up to follow you to a quiet corner.

He stands there, towering over you as you look up at him.

“I got your letter. I read it,” you say, playing with the ring on your finger.

“Okay. How do you feel?” He’s so nervous, he’s chewing his lip like he’s going to bite it off.

“I feel…conflicted, if we’re being honest. Part of me wants to give you that chance, while the other is scared of being hurt again.

Sunghoon nods, “I understand. You have to do what’s best for you. I can’t predict what will happen in the future, but I’d be an idiot to hurt you again.

I’m not going to pressure you into anything, I’m thankful you’re even talking to me.”

You laugh a little bit, which sounds like music to Sunghoon’s ears.

“I want to give you a chance, Sunghoon. But you have to understand that if at any point I feel things aren’t working or you’re reverting to past behavior, I’m gone?”

“I understand. I wouldn’t expect any less,” he responds. “Let’s start over. Hi, my name is Sunghoon,” he says, holding his hand out.

You take it, shaking it and smiling up at him, “Hi, Sunghoon. I’m Y/N. I have class but I’ll text you, okay?”

Sunghoon smiles, his fangs poking out, “I’ll look forward to it.”

You leave and Sunghoon almost jumps for joy.

He knows he can’t mess this up and he doesn’t plan on it.

You end up texting him later that night, asking if he wants to hang out this upcoming weekend.

Sunghoon immediately responds, accepting eagerly.

When the weekend comes, neither of you have class. You decide to meet up at a cafe on campus.

He’s already waiting for you by the time you arrive.

“Were you waiting long? You ask.

He shakes his head, “I just got here!”

Sunghoon offers to pay, which you try to decline but he insists.

You order an iced white chocolate caramel macchiato while he orders an iced americano.

“Is that drink your favorite?” He asks.

You nod, “I love it so much. It’s pretty sweet but I have a sweet tooth.”

Sunghoon told himself he’d remember everything about you, not wanting to look bored or make you think he’s not listening or interested.

“How are your classes going?” He knows you’re a psych major, thankfully.

“They’re going well. We got to do a clinical at a psych facility recently.”

You talk for what feels like forever, and Sunghoon doesn’t miss a word you say.

His attention is solely on you.

You see it and you feel it, his eyes on you, even when you look away.

You already like how this is going and just hope it stays this way.

A week passes and you feel closer to Sunghoon than you even have. That day at the cafe solidified a good beginning for this new friendship.

You and Sunghoon text everyday. You feel like you actually have a friend, someone who’s actually giving back what you give them.

Today, Sunghoon invited you to a hangout at his friend Jay’s place. He knows you weren’t entirely comfortable the first time you met them, so he doesn’t pressure you to say yes.

But, sometimes, things in life have to change.

You decide to go, wanting to find more friends outside of Sunghoon, which he encouraged.

Sunghoon picks you up at 8, and you’re there by 8:15.

Jay greets you both warmly at the door, as does everyone else when you step inside.

You sit in between Sunghoon and Jungwon as you all have dinner together, prepared lovingly by Jay.

The boys all ask about you, and at one point, when you’re occupied with food in your mouth, Sunghoon answers for you.

Some might find it rude, but you find it endearing.

He’s truly trying, and that’s something you’ve always wanted. It might be the bare minimum, but it means everything to you.

After dinner, you all decide on a movie to watch.

Choosing action, as you find romance movies to be boring, you watch intently, not relaxing Sunghoon has his eyes on you.

Sunghoon thinks you look beautiful. You’ve always been pretty, something he’s acknowledged in the past, but really looking at you, he thinks your beauty is one of a kind.

“Stop staring,” Jungwon whispers from beside him.

He wants to defend himself, but he can’t. “I can’t help it.” He whispers back.

He thinks about before, when you admitted having feelings for him. It’s something neither of you have acknowledged since that day, but Sunghoon can’t help but think about it and feel bad.

Despite how he treated you, you still found a way to look at him in a good light, enough to catch feelings for him.

Could he see himself with you? He’s not sure, but the thought lingers in his mind while he watches the movie.

Late at night, he drives you home from Jay’s and walks you to your door to make sure you get in safely.

“I had a great time, Sunghoon,” you say, smiling up at him.

“I’m glad, I had a good time too. I’m happy you like them, they’re knuckleheads but they’re cool.”

You laugh, “I couldn’t agree more. I’ll text you tomorrow?”

He nods, “Sounds good.”

As he lays in his own bed, his thoughts are full of you.

Weeks pass and it’s safe to say that you and Sunghoon have fully rebuilt your friendship.

It feels real, genuine, in a way it didn’t before.

You acknowledged the pain he caused you, but it has been taken over by the recent happiness because of him.

You hate to say it, you thought you lost all feelings for him, but alas, you haven’t.

You know it’s wrong, he doesn’t see you that way, even now, but you can’t help it.

The real Sunghoon, the kind and caring one, is more than you could ever want.

On Sunghoon’s end, he’s been thinking about you more and more recently. It feels like he’s teetering on the edge of having romantic feelings for you.

He feels like he wants to admit it to himself, but at the same he’s scared. What if it’s just in his head? What if they’re not really romantic and he’s setting you up to get hurt by him again.

What should he do? Should he be honest?

He decides to go to the counselor again, hoping he can help him sort out his feelings.

The counselor, Mr. Shin, is very understanding of Sunghoon’s dilemma.

“You feel like you might have romantic feelings, but don’t want to hurt her if they’re not. It’s completely understandable, Sunghoon. Navigating romantic feelings can be hard. I feel like your best option is to be honest with her about what you’re feeling and see how she reacts to that.”

Taking Mr. Shin’s advice, he asks to meet you at your apartment. It feels better doing it in a private setting than a public one.

“What’s up?” You ask, having gotten him a bottle of water while he sat on your couch.

“I have something to talk to you about.”

Your brow raises in confusion, “Okay?”

He faces you, “I've been having thoughts recently, pertaining to you. I’m confused and my counselor who I talked to told me to be honest.”

You start to get nervous, not expecting him to be so serious, “What kind of thoughts?”

Sunghoon takes a deep breath, “Romantic ones? At least, they feel romantic. But I haven’t been with someone in a long time and I don’t know how to dictate if my feelings are real or not. I don’t wanna hurt you again.”

You’re surprised, this was the last thing you expected.

“This isn’t like, out of pity is it, because of what I said?”

Sunghoon shakes his head vigorously, “No! It’s nothing like that. My feelings are genuine, I just don’t know if they’re really, truly romantic. I…I don’t know what to do.”

“Well,” you take a deep breath of your own, “what do you think about?”

Sunghoon relaxes a little bit, you don’t seem to be upset. “I think about your smile. How bright it is and how much I smile thinking about it. I think about the fact that you’re so smart, it’s like talking to a dictionary in a good way.

I like how passionate you are, especially about the things you love. Psychology for one. Your love for the food network is another. Everytime you ramble, you apologize but I don’t think there’s anything to apologize for. I like hearing you talk.”

He continues, “I like the fact that you are so open-minded. Where others would close off or reject something, you’re always supportive. I think I like everything about you, Y/N. I just like you.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and Sunghoon is worried he’s made you upset, but instead you start laughing.

“That’s all very sweet Sunghoon. And I’m glad you were honest with me. I like you a lot, too. But if you’re not sure about your feelings, we could go on a few dates? If you see something for us romantically in the future, fine. If you don’t, that’s okay, I won’t be upset.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, “If things don’t work out that way, we can stay friends, no hard feelings. I’m okay just being your friend.”

Sunghoon leaves that night feeling relieved.

The next day, you set up a date to go out.

Sunghoon tells you he wants to plan it, telling you just to dress sophisticatedly.

You’re inclined to tell him not to go all out, you don’t need a super fancy first date, but you decide against it.

If he wants to, you’ll let him.

By the end of the week, you’re dressed and ready for Sunghoon to pick you up.

The three knocks on your door tell you it’s him.

You open it and almost groan at how good he looks.

He’s dressed in black and white. White dress shirt, black blazer and slacks. Nice dress shoes.

You had to buy a dress for yourself, choosing a red v-neck dress that covers enough but shows off your body in the right way.

Sunghoon is just staring at you in awe.

“You look amazing,” he finally says.

“Thank you. You look amazing yourself.”

You lock your door and he takes your hand, leading you to his car where he opens the door for you. Typical gentleman.

The drive to the restaurant, you assume it’s a restaurant, is short? Should you call it that? You arrived after half an hour.

The place looks fancy and you just pray you don’t embarrass yourself.

Sunghoon leads you inside, hand in yours, as the host leads you to your table.

It’s in a quiet part of the restaurant, not in the back but not dead center either.

When you’re given the menu, your eyes almost bulge out of your head.

A steak costs 30 dollars. 30 fucking dollars.

“Are you crazy?” You whisper to Sunghoon who sits across from you.

He looks up in shock, “What’s wrong?”

“A steak is 30 dollars! A bowl of pasta is 20, why would you spend your money on that?”

He smiles, “Aw, you’re worried about me spending my money. Don’t worry about it, I can afford it.”

You tilt your head, “Even so, you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Please let me,” he says with a slight pout. Damn him.

You sit back, “Fine, but I’m not getting anything too expensive.”

“I can deal with that. But you better not get a damn salad.”

You huff, “Fine.”

You end up ordering a bowl of carbonara while Sunghoon gets a rib-eye.

The food comes quickly, and you use two of the napkins to keep your dress protected. Not that you’re a messy eater, but you never know when it comes to sauce.

You both take your time eating, talking about recent school work and classes.

“We did another clinical at a different facility, it was..should I say validating? It’s just really proven to me that this is what I want to do with my future.”

Sunghoon nods while you talk, “I’m glad you’ve found something you truly love. It’s hard sometimes, but you’re the most passionate person I know. Whoever’s psychologist you become in the future will be able to trust you 100%.”

You smile, “Thanks for saying that.”

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

You ask Sunghoon about himself and you end up going back and forth the entire night.

It was perfect, at least to you.

You’ve been on very, very few first dates. This was the best and you tell Sunghoon that.

“I’m glad I could make you happy, pretty.”

Pretty? That’s new. And it makes you ecstatic.

The next few days consist of you and Sunghoon hanging out almost everyday. Some days, you call them “impromptu dates” just doing something at your apartment or his.

You introduce him to your favorite competition shows on the food network and soon, you’ve gotten him immersed in them as well.

You feel yourself fall for him more and more everyday.

It’s like he’s tugging a string on your heart that brings you close to him.

For Sunghoon, he’s never felt this way about someone before. Someone he’s felt so connected to.

If he wasn’t sure of his feelings before, he’s certain now.

You’re hanging out in his apartment, comfy in sweats and a t-shirt, Sunghoon donning the same.

He made ramen that you’re both shamelessly slurping up.

“I like you, a lot,” he says out of the blue.

You turn to him, mid-slurp and he starts to laugh.

“Stop,” you whine after swallowing your mouthful.

“You looked like a deer caught in headlights, if deers ate ramen.”

You put your bowl down with one hand, the other pushing his chest as he laughs.

“But I mean it, Y/N. I like you so much.”

He’s serious now and you look into his starry eyes.

“I like you too, Sunghoon. I’d say these past few weeks have been the best of my life.”

You stare at one another before he leans in, capturing your lips in his.

Your hands find his shoulders as his cradle your waist.

He pulls you closer to him, caressing your exposed skin.

Your lips move together like butter, soft and smooth.

When you pull away, he chases your lips, making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager,” you whisper, his face still close to yours.

“You have no idea.”

Safe to say, you don’t sleep that night.

AEWON 2025

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gothicpaperback · 11 days ago

Text

THE WAY HE CARES | PART THREE

<<< PART TWO | PART FOUR: COMING SOON >>>

wc: 2,1k | rating: 18+ for eventual smut | Joel Miller x You | Enemy Pregnancy

summary: Joel Miller has been my pain-in-the-ass neighbour for years. we argue more than we speak and when we do speak, it's usually through gritted teeth. but when my doctor tells me my fertility’s running out of time, panic sets in. I want a baby and I don’t have the luxury of waiting around for Mr. Right. Joel's a damn good father to his daughter, Sarah. that much, I can’t deny. so one night, fuelled by nerves and just the right amount of wine, I ask him the unthinkable: get me pregnant. no strings.no romance. just biology. i never planned on falling for him. but nothing about Joel Miller ever goes according to plan.

while the story is first person narrative, the OC female character is YOU. she is not named and barely physically described aside from being able bodied and having hair long enough to grab.

tags/warnings: neighbours, enemies to lovers, comedy, smut, sexual tension, mentions of fertility and reproductive issues, mentions of drugs and alcohol. i will add more tags as they become relevant.

THE WAY HE CARES | PART THREE

I woke up with my cheek pressed against Joel’s shoulder and a dull, jack hammering throb behind my eyes. The house was too bright, the air too stale, and I could taste bad beer, whiskey and regret on my tongue.

Joel stirred beside me, groaning low in his throat.

We sat up at the same time, groaning in stereo, both of us squinting like hungover goblins in a cave.

“God,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes. “Did we drink my entire liquor cabinet?"

I blinked down at the coffee table. There, half-slid under an empty bottle, was the notepad we’d used last night. I pulled it toward me, hoping for a tidy list of logical, emotionless ground rules.

They started out like that, but quickly devolved the sloppy handwriting and barely legible notes.

Number twelve: No weird eye contact Number nineteen: Joel is banned from singing lullabies. Number thirty: Must never tell the kid Joel thinks birds are government drones

I stared at it. Then held it up, deadpan. “You got sentimental.”

Joel squinted at it, then snorted. “That was you. You started writing names after your fourth beer.”

“Lies. You said the name Joel Jr was great because we can call him JJ.’”

“Yeah, and I stand by it,” he said, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “But you also said, and I quote, ‘He’s going to be the most emotionally stable Capricorn in the Western Hemisphere.’”

I winced. “I hate me.”

He let out a dry laugh, then leaned back against the couch with a long sigh.

“Anyway,” I said, voice turning more pointed as I dropped the notepad back on the table, “none of it matters. You don’t get a say in anything, remember? That was the agreement.”

Joel’s head turned slowly toward me. His jaw tensed.

“I know that,” he said, clipped. “You were the one who started jotting down nursery colours like we were designing a joint Pinterest board.”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t kept saying, ‘You know what this kid needs?’ like you were pitching a product-”

“Oh, forgive me for trying to make conversation while donating my future genetics.”

“Donating? You made it sound like I won a sweepstakes.”

“I mean, clearly I was drunk enough to forget you’re still impossible.”

“Right back at you, Joel.”

We glared at each other. The warm fuzzy truce from last night had vanished like beer foam, replaced by familiar, petty tension that somehow felt even worse with a hangover.

Then Joel's phone buzzed with a text from Joel’s daughter’s contact name: SARAH.

> Mom’s dropping me off in an hour. Can we get donuts after??

Joel groaned again, this time with feeling. “Sarah’s coming back this morning. She cannot see me doing the walk of shame out of your house.”

"Not to mention that bitch Phelps across the street."

I stood up, already formulating a plan that absolutely shouldn’t have made as much sense as it did.

"We need to get you out without anyone seeing.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What kind of plan are we talking about here?”

Ten minutes later, Joel stood in my kitchen wearing a hoodie so tight on him it barely reached his wrists, a baseball cap pulled low, and sunglasses that belonged to my last regrettable ex. He was also wearing some of my hair extensions shoved under the cap, trailing around his stubbled cheeks.

“This is your plan?” he asked, deadpan.

“You need to look like some loser I'd date. Dressed like that no one is gonna think you're Joel Miller, helpful

"No, they’re gonna think, drug dealer, let's call the cops."

"So walk fast."

Joel muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "fuckin' nutjob."

I peeked through the blinds. Across the street, his porch was still empty. No sign of Sarah or her mom’s car yet, but that didn’t mean the coast was clear.

“Okay,” I said. “You go down the side yard, cut behind the Petersons’ hedges, and take the long route around the back of the Culvers’ place. Then you cross diagonally to your garage from the alley side.”

“This is not a bank heist, it’s suburban espionage,” he grumbled, but he adjusted the cap on his head and followed me out the side door anyway.

We crept along the fence line like two criminals breaking out of a Hobby Lobby. At one point, Joel tripped over a lawn gnome and I had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep him from swearing loud enough for the birds to file a noise complaint.

As we passed behind the Petersons’ rose bushes, we both froze. Mr. Peterson was in the driveway, adjusting his sprinkler.

I hissed, “Act natural.”

Joel straightened his spine as I practically shouted. "Thanks for the delivery GrubHub guy. Your tip has been added!"

Mr. Peterson frowned over at us.

“Oh hi, Mr Peterson,” I shouted, yanking Joel by the arm and speed-walking toward the Culvers’ back fence. "Just thanking the Food delivery guy!"

Mr. Peterson just nodded incredulously before going back to fixing his sprinkler.

“This is humiliating,” Joel muttered.

“You’re welcome.”

Joel was sweating and glaring, but we were unseen. He darted down the alley, across to his backyard.

I was about to leave when Sarah's mom pulled up.

"Shit."

I watched the teen give her mom a kiss before grabbing her backpack.

"See you next weekend, mom!"

"Bye honey!"

Joel was still halfway through his backyard when her mom's car took off. I was standing on the sidewalk pretending to check my mail.

I panicked, knowing that if Sarah turned around right this second she would see her dad creeping through the hedges like a demented pervert.

"Sarah!" I screeched.

When he heard my scream, Joel tugged the hat, hair and glasses from his head. His real hair was a mess and he looked like he’d aged five years in ten minutes.

Sarah was peering at me from across the street. "Yeah?"

"Uh, come here a second."

Sarah looked a bit confused but she did so, shooting me a smile. "Good morning."

I watched Joel from the corner of my eyes, smiling at Sarah. He was inching towards his side door.

"I just wanted to say, Sarah, that I think you are a great kid."

Sarah beamed up at me, all bright teeth and shiny eyes. "Thank you ma'am."

"Oh please, call me by my name," I said distractedly, my eyes on Sarah but my focus on Joel.

"Uh, did you need anything?" Sarah asked after an uncomfortable moment of silence.

Joel was so close. Just a few seconds more. I panicked.

"I wanted to have you over for a cookout. This week. My place. Do you like mushroom burgers?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," Sarah said slowly.

Joel was at the side door now. He gave me one last look, equal parts annoyed and begrudgingly impressed before he slipped inside.

"Anyway, something to think about," I said far too loudly. "Bye Sarah! Lovely to see you!"

I smiled hard, turned on my heel, and marched back to my house with Sarah waving after me.

Disaster averted.

Ten minutes and two huge glasses of orange juice later, an alert popped up on my phone.

> Guess our drunk selves wanted us to be in contact

A blurry selfie was saved under his name in my contact list.

Joel 'Babydaddy' Miller.

Jesus.

>At least they did us one solid.

> Considering your devious little plan today I'm surprised we didn't do something worse

I watched the dots bounce as he formulated his response, biting my thumb nail and grinning at the screen.

>You’re terrifying when you’re organized. >And you’re welcome for your spotless suburban reputation.

I imagined I could hear his chuckle across the street. His smile and perfect teeth.

> Sarah mentioned something about a cookout this week? > Oh right. I panicked. Sorry. >It's fine. I'll make up an excuse.

For some reason I felt a little deflated at the response but I couldn't pinpoint why. All I knew was that I needed this conversation to end.

> I want my hoodie back by the way. Have a good week.

And just like that, we were back to whatever the hell this was, two enemies playing house in the dumbest possible way.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller au #joel tlou #tlou #tlou hbo #sarah miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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joaosnovia · 1 month ago

Note

A fic where joão celebrates the reader for Mother’s Day despite their circumstances. (Ours 3?)

❦ - mother’s day ; an ours epilogue.

warnings:: none.

writers notes:: PERDONA IM SORRY FORGIVE ME THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED AGES AGO. i thought i already posted this like 3 weeks ago… but i just scrolled thru my drafts to find that this isn’t out! ALSO ITS GOOD TO NOTE TAHT WHEN I WROTE RHIS I DIDNT REMEMBER ANY OF THE FIRST TWO BITS SO EXCUSE THAT

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you weren’t expecting much.

not because joão didn’t care. but because things between you two had just been… different.

not bad. just off. a little awkward. a little clumsy. like you were both still adjusting to the newness of everything, being parents, being partners, being people with dark circles under your eyes and onesies in your laundry.

you still kissed goodnight. still shared the bed. but sometimes you felt like roommates with history. like there was something warm between you that hadn’t quite made it back to the surface yet.

so when you wandered into the kitchen on sunday morning, wearing his hoodie and clutching the baby monitor like a lifeline, you didn’t expect anything.

but there it was.

a mug of your favorite coffee. one tiny pink daisy in a jar. and a piece of paper, folded twice, with your name written in joão’s messy handwriting.

you blinked. looked around.

joão was at the stove. hair messy, back turned, focused like he was making something way more complicated than eggs.

he didn’t notice you at first.

but then you picked up the note. opened it.

happy mother’s day, meu amor. i know this year has been new and weird and full of spit-up and crying (from all of us). but i just wanted you to know, i see you. i still see you. you’re doing this so beautifully. and i’m still so in love with you.

your breath caught.

you looked up just as he turned around, holding a plate of pancakes shaped like vaguely round hearts.

‘they’re not pretty,’ he said quickly, ‘but i tried. i used the baby’s bottle to pour the batter…’

you crossed the room and kissed him. messy. sleepy. soft.

he froze for a second. then kissed you back, like he’d been waiting.

when you pulled away, you whispered, ‘thank you.’

he smiled, eyes a little glassy.

‘i didn’t know if we were okay enough for this,’ he said. ‘but i couldn’t not celebrate you.’

‘we’re okay,’ you said. ‘just… tired.’

‘i can live with tired,’ he said. ‘as long as it’s still us.’

the baby monitor crackled behind you. both of you groaned.

joão kissed your cheek, took the pancakes to the table.

‘eat while it’s hot,’ he said. ‘i’ll get the monster.’

and as you sat down, holding the daisy, reading his note again through blurry eyes. you felt it.

love. not loud. not wild. just quiet, steady, still there.

#football x reader #football one shot #football fluff #football x y/n #football x you #joao felix x reader #joao felix fluff #joao felix oneshot #joao felix x y/n #joao felix x you

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apurpledust · 9 months ago

Note

Don't tell my friend that I did not sleep immediately (she will scold me XD). But what is Napoleon and Junot about? Gib their interactions, their history, the tension, their secrets, what you thought about them, what is good and bad about them, headcanons, some things that you love about them, anything that will save my curiosity before I go to sleep in 4:30 am 👀

That is all. Have a nice day/evening 😌

HELLO!! sorry for my late reply I have the cold and I was figuring how to write this without sounding too crazy 😭😭 thank you @whatever-whatsoever for reminding me to check my inbox 🤩 YESSS NAPJUNO ASK!!!! THANK YOU ❤️❤️ I'll have to give a super abbreviated version because they had so much history *sniff* 🥺

I may yap more about my personal head canons and why I love them in a separate post hehehe👅

disclaimer: I don't claim to be objective or an historian as this is very napjuno-biased :P English is not my first language so there will be many grammatical mistakes😭

I feel like I should first mention that Napoleon and Junot had a long history of correspondence throughout their lifetime. And Junot kept every. single. letter Napoleon wrote to him. Unfortunately none of these letters exist anymore because Napoleon sent a lackey to have them burned the moment Junot committed suicide. (I WILL NEVER FORGIVE NAPS FOR THIS 😭) so most of what we know about their relationship is secondhand from Junot's wife, Laure Junot's (Duchesse d'Abrantes) memoirs. She's also not the most reliable person so it's possible she might heavily exaggerated on some stuff

As for the letters, it's always been up for debate why Napoleon wanted them gone but my personal headcanon is they must've been written in a very romantic tone... and Napoleon was so heavily trying to suppress his feelings for Junot and burning those letters was a way of burying their relationship once and for all

OKAY, SO A BRIEF HISTORY ON NAPJUNO!!

Junot's fated meeting with Napoleon began in 1793! He was already promoted to a segreant when they met and Napoleon was already a General at the age of 24(!). It was during the Siege of Toulon that Naps had asked for someone who had beautiful handwriting to dictate a letter and Junot volunteered to write what he dictated before a cannon fire sprayed it with dirt. Naps was so impressed by his coolness that he made Junot his secretary and Aide-de-camp, and soon they'd become inseparable

soon after Toulon, Napoleon was accused of treason for his connections to Augustin Robespierre and was jailed. Junot , of course freaking out about this wrote him letter to offer an escape but Naps declined.

^ this illustration by Jacques Onfoy de Bréville represents one of their "leisure moments" together circa 1794-95

so after a little while Napoleon got married and found his fortune, Junot continued to follow him to his legendary Italian and Egyptian campaigns. In Egypt, he was promoted to General but he was actually not too happy with this since this means he'll be away from Napoleon often. There's also this famous (or infamous?) incident where he challenged General Lanusse to a duel ,simply because he opposed Napoleon's leadership , with this words :

«We must fight; it is essential that only one of us survive. I hate you because you hate the man that I love and admire as much as God, if not more»

sounds like a chivalric romance doesn't it? :3 It was also during this campaign there were rumours within the army comparing Naps and Junot to "Hadrian and Antinous" . of course Junot does nothing to dispel those rumours 🤓 Poor guy got wounded in the stomach and Naps didn't visit him until the last minute.

Napoleon wasn't able to take Junot with him when he left Egypt and by the time Junot made it back to France in 1800, Napoleon was already First Consul and the power differences between them already put a strain on their relationship. This was further exacerbated once Naps became Emperor.

When Naps sent Junot to Portugal , he wrote a bunch of desperate letters begging him to reappoint him as his aide-de-camp again and Napoleon once confronted to Junot's wife about the letters he wrote to him (I'm like 99% sure it probably sounded more romantic than the ones he wrote to her) . it got to the point that Laure Junot ahd to admit that Junot possibly loved Napoleon more than her and their children.

Junot was often sent away from Napoleon during from like c. 1806-1810ish? and didn't interact much except by correspondence (I think) I'm going to skip over the Portugal /Spain period

Okay so by the Russian Campaign of 1812, Junot pretty much fell out of favour from Naps and the consequences of Junot's actions almost completely destroyed their relationship. By this time period, Junot's mental and physical health was very, very fragile from his campaigns in Portugal & Spain and Napoleon was no longer the Napoleon he knew back in their youth. Napoleon was furious and even shamed him on the military bulletin. Junot was devastated at this and the thought of losing Napoleon's friendship was unbearable after 20 years of being devoted to him.

After he returned to France from Russia, there are several anecdotes mentioning how he would wanderlessly mutter out loud that “The Emperor no longer loves me” in his apartments😭 Napoleon's love for him was all that mattered😭😭💔

There's this scene where Duroc (Napoleon's Grand Marshal of the Palace) and another friend visited Junot to comfort him and this happened:

Junot obviously didn't believe the Emperor still loved him of course💔

Soon after spending some time resting and with his family, he was appointed Governor of Illyria. (I think Naps sent him there because he wanted him out of France but Idk). His insanity finally set in and there's this infamous incident where Junot attended the ball completely naked except for his medals and hat and his battle wounds were on full display...

Soon after that, he had to be forcefully be sent back to his father's home in Montbard. It was there where he committed suicide by jumping out the window.

💔

Junot's last letter to Napoleon is heartbreaking by the way....

“I who love you with the affection of a savage for the sun, I who am entirely yours. Well then: This eternal war that we must fight for you, I WANT NO MORE OF IT! I WANT PEACE! I want finally to repose my tired head, my sore limbs … to enjoy that which I earned … with my BLOOD! The blood of an honest man, of a good Frenchman, of a true patriot. I therefore ask, at last, for that tranquility that I earned through twenty-two years of effective service and seventeen wounds from which my blood has flowed for my country, and for your glory.

Like I mentioned in the beginning, soon after the news of Junot's demise reached the public, Napoleon immediately sent someone to his house in Paris where his wife and brother-in-law were at and forcibly searched through Junot’s home to seize and burn his letters.

Oh yeah there's more but I'll leave it at that for now </3 LIKE WHAT THE HELL NAPS WHY DID YOU BURN THE LETTERS 😭😭Like they must've been fucking crazy man,,, omg sorry this keeps me up at night 😭

they make me so

Junot's ending was sooo tragic.... he was definitely a Greek tragedy-esque figure😢 He possibly died believing Napoleon hated him when that wasn't the case. Napoleon, despite reprimanding Junot very harshly for Junot's actions (non-actions?) during the Russian campaign, he still had a soft spot for him.

I also think of like how his life would've been better without meeting Napoleon. But also thinking again how much Junot treasured his meeting with Napoleon.... ough they're so painful sdkjskdljdhljhdjfhdkjhfdj excuse me while I combust

NapJuno was basically like painful unrequited love slow burn over 2 decades . Or maybe it wasn't completely unrequited? I like to think Napoleon was in denial and constantly tried to suppress his feelings for Junot 😔😔😔 anyway Junot was so delulu... (he's my precious delulu cat) he kept hoping Napoleon would still love him like he used too pre-Emperor days. Of course those days will never come back. I guess he was always living in the past while Naps moved on 🥲💔

well even if Napoleon doesn't love him at least I do 😤

as my friend @ promises-of-paradise once said, I think Junot was almost definitely romantically obsessed with Napoleon. Like actual romantic love (I'm not even being delusional this is what I truly believe). Whether they actually did anything together is up for debate, but it’s clear that Junot’s feelings for Naps were a lot more intense than a regular friendship.

also I highly recommend reading these posts regarding Junot and NapJuno's relationship:

The NapJuno bible of course: https://erenow.org/modern/napoleonic-friendship-military-fraternity-intimacy-and-sexuality/4.php

BTW THERE'S A NAPJUNO RPF WRITTEN AND PUBLISHED IN A FRENCH MAGAZINE BACK IN 1926!!!! I JUST NEED TO FIND THE LINK (it's also in French)

and Laure Junot's memoirs! it's available on the internet and she (and imo rightfully) suggests Napoleon and Junot were possibly incredibly intimate during their broke days. Girl was the OG napjuno shipper istg

If any of my fellow NapJuno fanatics want to add info about them more please do so!!! I'm probably forgetting some stuff 😭

#I HOPE I MADE SENSE AAAAAA #i love them ❤️#ty for the ask :3 #napjuno #ask

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anki-of-beleriand · 1 year ago

Text

Bad Liar ch. 18

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Mentions of Natasha/Maria being married

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - violence - mentios of abused and sexual assault - idiots in love - violence - suggestive themes - drama - angst - fluff

Author's note: The world had changed, and Wanda finally had a chance to show you and tell you how much she loves you and how much you had changed her life for the better.

Well, guys, this is the end.

I surely hope you guys like this chapter as much as I love writing it, and that in general you love the story. I wanted to give you a closure to what had happened and to how the story of both, Reader and Wanda would unfold, but I also wanted to give you a glimpse of the future so. Hope you enjoy the read! Thank you to all of you who stay to the very end, it was quite amazing to have you with me all this time.

Please rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes, hope you like this one.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Wishing upon a shooting star

Now and Forever

Time was a funny concept.

After the incident with Vision and Agatha, the world continued its slow travelled into a new year and the normality of life. But for you and your family, it became a painfully slow process in which you had to face many decisions and harsh realities. In the last couple of days, you had tried to make everything work, you made sure not only America but Wanda and the twins had the support they needed to continue on, while also dealing with the legal affairs involving Vision.

Everything had been a part of your life and how you were building up from scratch what had been put in jeopardy in a matter of hours.

Still, you and Wanda endure, and you couldn’t help but fell more in love with the woman that had been picking up her pieces while being everything you and her children needed. You massaged your neck tiredly, the house was completely alone and Wanda and the twins were still out somewhere with Natasha and Maria.

At least that was what she had said to you when you asked for her companionship to your appointment with the doctor. It had been a strange day, a very lonely day in which you had been left alone with your thoughts and emotions.

You whistled glancing around your living room before directing your attention to the stairs, America had long gone somewhere with Kate and you regretted not having agreed to her and her idea of joining you at the hospital. With a heavy sigh, and some tiredness you made your way upstairs ready to take a shower.

Of course, noting could had prepared you for what you found there.

The room was completely empty.

You stepped forward until your eyes fell upon the clothes that had been neatly organized on your bed. Right on top of your favourite trousers there was a single note with your name on it, you recognized America’s messy handwriting and you couldn’t help but smile at the words she had left written on the piece of paper.

Today is finally the day!

Wanda has been planning this for a very long time, and since I am very amazing sister, and sister-in-law, I decided to give her a hand.

I choose your favourite clothes and left everything ready for you to get dress and ready for your date with Wanda. You and her both deserve this time, and I think it would be the perfect time to just be yourself and talk about everything but what had happened lately. Please, be happy. I will take the twins to Kate’s place and you two will have the rest of the afternoon and the night for yourselves. Please, just write to me and make sure you enjoy the date.

Love, the best sister in the world (me)

Your smile only grew knowing in the last couple of days America had been completely secretive though always offering hints of how much you were going to love the surprised. Wanda had been holding her secrets just as tightly, and by the time Friday finally arrived you were really dying to know what Wanda had prepared.

“Very well, one hour before Wanda is here,” you mumbled to yourself letting your eyes wandered around to check your clothes. With a wince, you left your backpack and the jacket on a chair and went to the bathroom.

You couldn’t help but gasped at the sheer pain you felt running through your arm, leaving the sling to the side and helping yourself out of your clothes. Your reflection blinked back at you, the wound on your left arm was still red, and fresh, pulsating from time to time reminding you not only of the cold winter days, but of what had almost happened two weeks ago.

With a frown, and a shake of your head you turned around getting the bath ready.

Today was about you and Wanda and whatever it was she had prepared for you, there was no time to think anything sad or regretful. With a smile on your face, you put on some music and decided to get ready for the woman that had already captured your heart.

A deep void of anticipation settled on your lower abdomen and you could hardly wait to see Wanda again.

You glanced at your reflection with a critical eye.

America had put together the suit your dad had chosen for your first official meeting in the company. Your lips curled lightly, it had been a while since you last used those Chino pants, or that blazer, but it was your favourite one because of how it made you look. How it made you feel. You smiled fixing your left arm to rest comfortably on your midsection, the blazer and pants tailored fit complementing your body form with the dark colours you favoured so much.

You found your eyes in your reflection, your body tingling with anticipation and a void expanding on your abdomen. Your heart shrank with emotion, when you recalled Wanda's eyes on you, her smile and the sweet timbre of her voice. If you were to be honest you didn't know when you felt for her, when you lowered your guard and allowed this woman and her children to take home in your heart. You just knew that one day, her smile took your breath away and her eyes on you made your heart fluttered with want.

The mobile on your bed vibrated several times, you furrowed your brows grabbing the phone while reading the message. You smirked, you turned around and went directly to the first floor making sure you had your wallet and keys on you. The moment you opened the door your throat went dry,

She stood by your door wearing a single, dark blue dress pressed around her horse but loose around the waist. There was a black coat on her, with her hair straightened up and light make-up glistening on her face. She smiled shyly at you, her eyes taking in your frame before they settled in your eyes, her cheeks wore a dust of red you were familiar with.

“Hey.” She greeted tentatively dipping her head while looking away for a moment.

You shook your head, blinking a couple of times before stepping forward.

“Hey.”

Wanda leaned back, her tongue playing with her lips with her hands closing tightly around the purse she had borrowed.

“You look beautiful.” You finally stuttered out, your face warming up when those green eyes fell on you once more.

Wanda put a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile softening leaning into the touch of your hand on her arm.

“You look good, too.” She replied and you were quite relieved you were not the only one incapable of speaking properly at the moment.

“Only good?” You asked teasingly, Wanda opened her eyes, shaking her head.

“You look amazing.” She finally stated, rolling her eyes when you just chuckled.

“Amazing, eh?”

“You always look good,” Wanda lifted her hand and put it on top of yours, “are you ready?”

You stepped out of your house closing the door behind you, you grabbed her hand placing a kiss on her knuckles with a single winked that made Wanda falter for a moment.

“I'm all ready for you, Princess. I'm also very excited to know where you are taking me, and what you have planned for today.”

You couldn't hide the excitement in your voice, you bounced on your feet while Wanda merely shook her head pointing to the car.

“It's still a surprise and as such, you are going to be asked to wear a blindfold.”

You cocked a brow at her, your lips curling playfully.

“Kinky.” You chuckled when Wanda slapped you playfully on the back, she rolled her eyes but you could tell she was blushing profusely.

“Come on, we have reservations.”

Wanda started walking down the lane but stopped when your hand closed around her forearm. She turned confused, her eyes finding yours and the seriousness of your expression made her turn completely to face you.

“We cannot go like this, you know?” You shook your head, but Wanda merely creased her brows tilting her head.

Whatever question she had, or whatever she was going to say was soon cut by your lips finding hers in a slow, tentative kiss. Her breath caught in her throat, and you just loved the way she tilted her head placing her hands on your forearms giving into the kiss while opening her mouth with her tongue teasingly playing with yours. You smiled into the kiss, sowing down until your forehead was resting against hers. Both breathing hard, flustered with lips swollen from the kissing.

“Are you…are you happy now?” Wanda asked and her voice, while still recovering, suddenly was huskier than ever.

You nodded, placing a sweet peck on her cheek, stepping back before you couldn't contain yourself.

“Yep, now we can go.”

____________________________

The ride to your destination was a silent event.

The silence was filled with music and conversation about your doctor’s recommendations for the physical therapy and Wanda’s care of her throat. You had leaned back against the eat, with a smile playing on your lips while you gave the woman sitting beside you a trust you rarely placed in anybody else.

When the car finally stopped, your stomach was squirming deliciously and your heart was jumping with anticipation of what was going to happen. You waited until a warm hand placed itself on your leg, your body tense leaning in to follow the voice of Wanda.

“I thought very hard on this, you know?” Wanda was speaking softly, with her voice filled with memory and something you couldn’t quite name, “I’ve been going through so many changes, and when I was finally getting to know myself I met you.”

You cracked a smile leaning your head without being able to see but sensing Wanda’s eyes on you.

“That was one hell of a first good impression?”

Wanda snorted, her hand clenched tenderly around your knee.

“No, I hated you.” This time around you could tell she was not joking, but her voice merely softened. “I hated what you made me feel, I felt vulnerable but at the same time there was this horde of butterflies on my stomach and my chest was always tight and throbbing…it was infuriating. It was confusing.”

You lifted your right hand; your movements were slow and tentative waiting to see if Wanda would stop your advances but she never did so. By the time you took off the blindfold, you could see the face of the other woman looking right outside the parking lot of a big, black building. Wanda let out a breathy sigh, it came right from her chest and by the time her green eyes found yours your heart skipped a beat.

“I wasn’t sure as to what I was experimenting until…” Wanda shrugged, “until I told Hope, then everything make sense.”

“Was it the first time you…” your question caught in your throat, there were many things you wanted to ask, furrowing your brows you realised there were certain details about Wanda you had yet to see, you had yet to know.

Fixing your position on the seat, this time around it was you the one facing her while the building stood like a shadow in front of you.

“Was it the first time a woman flirt with you?” You asked tentatively, Wanda nodded tilting her head until she was locking her eyes with you.

“It was the first time I actually admit to liking a woman, Y/N.” Wanda then softened her features, her hand seeking yours, “today I want to make it special, I want for you to know and to feel just how much you mean to me. I…I may be slow with words, but I don’t want you to think I am not experiencing the same emotions as you do.”

Your lips broke into a half smile, you leaned forward until your lips were on her ear. Wanda shivered her eyes fluttering close as you spoke.

“I love you.” It was a simple whisper, three words you had gotten used to tell the other woman with every single ounce of honestly you could show her.

“I know.” Wanda replied back turning her face until your lips and hers were brushing against one another, you snorted shaking your head.

“Very well, Han Solo, where are we?”

Wanda furrowed her brows scrunching up her nose the very same way the twins usually did when confused. You chuckled tucking her locks behind her ear.

“What did you call me?” She asked tentatively leaning back, you raised a single brow.

“You know? Han Solo? Star Wars? Princess Leia?”

Wanda shrugged shaking her head, her eyes twinkling in silent laughter at the face of pure mock disbelief you were wearing at the moment. It was as if you were genuinely offended by her lack of knowledge for what you were saying.

“God, as soon as this is over you and I are going home to see the movies, the original ones before I settled on letting you see the full saga.” You commented opening the door of the car.

Wanda followed your actions, but just before the both of you left the warmness of the car she decided to speak.

“Funny, I thought that after we left this place you and I could be doing something totally different once we were home. I was dying to know what else you could do with that mouth of yours.”

The young woman smirked closing the car door behind her and walking down the parking lot, her cheeks were a witness of her embarrassment but her heart fluttered happily when she heard your cursed and gasp. The door closing with a loud thud, while your footsteps hurried up behind her.

The night promise to be fun.

The main entranced had been decorated with silvery banners announcing the newest show, the doors were closed and a single sign to the left showed the place had been closed hours ago. You furrowed your brows; it was until the both of you had been standing closed to it that you realized you were in the Natural Museum and the Stark Planetarium. The place was huge and it had been built just outside the city to make it possible for the observatory to get easiest access to a clear sky. Your eyes lighted up leaning in to observed inside the glassed doors, Wanda stood by your side writing something on her phone while waiting patiently with you.

“How did you know?” You asked leaning back, Wanda shifted her weight from one feet to the other facing you with a soft smile.

“I did pay attention when you helped the twins with their homework, and I did my investigation to make sure I wouldn’t get this wrong.” Wanda stepped closer to you positioning herself on your right side so she could grab your hand in hers. “I want this date to be special.”

“Being with you is what makes this date special.” You pecked her cheek, and Wanda just shook her head.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Nah, I’m just saying the truth.”

Soon the doors were opened and a single guard opened the doors, he smiled at the both of you while passing a set of keys to Wanda giving her silent instructions as to where they should go and which parts were off limits for the both of you. You observed as the young woman listened carefully, she took the map the man was giving her while also pointing to something on the tablet he was holding. Your heart skipped a beat thinking of all the things she had done, if only to get you to where you two were at the moment ready to enjoy the strangest date you had ever been to.

“Very well, we’re not allow to disturb the rest of the exhibitions so let’s see, I think it’s down here.”

“Lead the way, my lady, I am but a humble peasant at your mercy.”

Wanda chuckled grabbing your hand dragging you through the corridors, it was only the both of you and the sound of your footsteps disturbed the silent scene spreading before your eyes. You had been in that place several times through your youth and adulthood; it was one of your favourite places in the whole world and you had a sneaking suspicion this part of the date had been America’s contribution.

“No way…” you whispered this time around walking faster until it was you the one dragging Wanda behind you, your smile grew just as you turned around and found the planetarium had been fixed in such a way that right in the middle of the ground there was a single table with two chairs.

You had been there when your father was helping around on the renovations, at that time you were but eight years old, but the idea behind these new arrangements was to make camping-like scenario for some of the youngest people that would fill the place in the future. The idea was to make of this dome of the most accurate and real in the whole country.

Let’s make it feel as if they were actually outside, watching the stars above their heads on a nice, summer night.

Your face broke into a nostalgic smile as the words of your father filled your mind.

Wanda took a deep breath her hand squeezing yours tenderly, her heart beating fast just as you let go while strolling around the place. The planetarium was located on the west wing of the building, it was the biggest in the east coast and it usually held some of the most important films about astronomy and history in the whole country. The projection dome was done with neutral colours with a LED system that came along with the latest technology for audio and special effects. It had been a couple of years since you last were inside the Domo and finding yourself in the midst of such a place only brough a bubble of happiness that spread all through your senses.

Everything was already set up, and the lights that were lighting up the place were just centred on the single table with two chairs right in the middle of the room. Instead of the normal chairs that were placed around the theatre, you found yourself looking at a scene that never thought possible and you knew right there and there of all the effort that Wanda had taken that very first time to give you the perfect date.

“Do you…do you like it?” Wanda finally broke the silence approaching you with a tentative stare in her eyes, she approached the table signalling the cutlery with the table, the glasses of wine and the single bottle resting on a small side table inside a bucket filled with ice.

You turned to the woman standing beside you, it was quite incredible that even after all she had done there was still some trepidation in her features, the nervous picking of her fingers while she tried to offer explanations of how everything came to be. Of the careful planning she did to make sure everything would be ready, that everything would be there on time.

You stopped her tirade just as she was about to tell you she chose as the main course had been lasagne accompanied by a white wine.

Wanda got her words tangled in her throat, her lips trembling lightly until she lifted her arms to return your hug. For the very first time, after what happened in New Year and the process of recovery you and Wanda allowed the comfort of a single hug.

“This is amazing.” You whispered making sure she could feel everything you were experimenting at the moment.

Wanda closed her eyes, taking in the sweet aroma of your perfume and surrendering to the warm of your body. You leaned back, brushing your fingers on her hair while taking in the marks on her eyes and the tentativeness behind her stare.

“Nobody had done this before, you know?”

“Really?” Wanda asked right away, you shook your head. Wanda pursed her lips stepping back a little.

“You don’t have to say that, you know?”

You furrowed your brows seeking her eyes with yours until she couldn’t look away from you.

“I mean it, Wands. I’ve been in many dates some of them were unique in the way the presented themselves, but…well, this…” You lifted your eyes to the dome stretching your arms while twirling around, “having someone worry enough to make something I like? Not many did, and not in the way I was expecting.”

“Well, I just thought…” Wanda turned around when the gates of the theatre opened and there came a couple of waitresses bringing over the food.

You grabbed Wanda’s hand leaning in to place a single kiss on her knuckles, the young woman rolled her eyes at your gesture but took it for what it was.

“Let’s eat, and discuss this, my lady.”

“Let me help you out.” Wanda replied walking fast to the closest chair pulling it out waiting for you to sit.

You grinned taking the chair while Wanda too the one right in front of you, the two young men worked was placing the plates filled with food while also serving the wine and leaving two glasses of water as well.

Everything was perfect, the smell of the fresh lasagne filled your nostrils and it was quite evident you couldn’t shake the smile adorning your features. Wanda puffed out her chest, a sense of pride overcame her knowing she had made it possible for you to not lose your smile or relaxed posture.

“This is delicious,” you moaned while tasting the food, Wanda blushed glancing at the food while nodding in agreement. “God you bought it in Olympia, didn’t you?”

“Yep, Ajak was very kind to offer the services of the waitress and the food and actually all the things you see here.”

“You really outdo yourself with the date, Wanda.”

Wanda lifted her face taking in your frame, she smiled going back to her food.

“I really wanted to make this special for you.” Wanda grabbed her wine frowning her brows for a moment, “I never thought I could be this special with anyone, let out feel like this for someone else.”

You focused on the food, but soon you noticed the sweet melody of a familiar song playing in the speakers inside the dome. Your eyes lighted up turning to Wanda who was offering a tiny smile, she really had thought about everything.

“Very well, what’s your ideal date?” You asked all of a sudden, Wanda was taken aback for a moment blinking at the randomness of the question.

“My ideal date?”

“Yep, you just said you couldn’t imagine being this special, but you are special, Wanda. Perhaps, you were never given the chance, but I know you must have something inside your head that cold be define as the perfect one.”

Wanda chewed on her lower lip, narrowing her eyes for a moment before leaning in.

“I have always thought that a walked down a beautiful part, or forest leading to a lake is an ideal date.” She stated thoughtfully, “mom used to take Pietro and me to this beautiful forest near the city back home, she always told us the stories of her youth, and I always thought that would be the perfect place to have a date or a marriage proposal.”

You nodded pursing your lips impressed, Wanda then turned to you her eyes gleaming strangely.

“How about yours?”

You opened your eyes blinking a couple of times before leaning over, “I have to say, this one? It’s at the top five of my favourite dates ever.”

Wanda made a face of disbelief but you stopped her with a gesture of your hand, you drank some wine shaking your head.

“I mean it.” You declared strongly, “I love history, and I love everything that has to do with museums and books, if you want to win my heart, this is the perfect spot to start over. But I would say the perfect date would be on Prague’s Strahov library. Now, that would be quite the adventure.”

The conversation soon flew the same way it did before the incident, you caught Wanda giving in while leaving the stress on her shoulders ease out and her expression relaxed while the conversation grew around the topics she handled well. You never lied to her, while you had your share amount of dates usually they involved other type of activities that, why you liked them at a time, they hardly related with one of your passions.

Laughter filled the planetarium; the acoustics of the place made it easy for the sound to be enhanced. The conversation grew around different topics, and soon whatever happened in the past, whatever physical wounds the both of you carried still were forgotten.

And it was in that moment you remembered why you fell in love with Wanda.

“Thank you, this was delicious.” You glanced at the waitress smiling gently at her, the young woman flushed returning the smile until she caught the glare coming from Wanda.

“I will bring the desert.” The young woman picked up the last of the dishes and hurried out of the place.

You cocked a brow at Wanda who had not stopped following the other woman with her glare, when she returned her attention to you it was only to find your amused smile adorning your features.

“Jealous much?” You chuckled when Wanda clicked her tongue looking away.

“Should I be?”

This time around you did laugh at the absurdity of the comment, Wanda rolled her eyes sending you a withering stare before huffing and crossing her arms. You waited until the dessert had been served and another bottle of wine was brought, this time around the rest of the lights went out and there was only a single one left to create a foggy atmosphere around the centre of the room.

“I think you are adorable when jealous.” You stood up serving the wine, you knew Wanda was following you with her eyes but for now you focused your attention to the task at hand. “I still remember that time in which you saw me and Carol, there is something utterly cute about it.”

“I’m not jealous, and I don’t think being jealous counts as adorable. Or cute.”

You clicked your tongue shaking your head, the glass was soon filled with the red beverage on the bottle. You passed the glass to Wanda who received it, the glint in her eyes told you she was enjoying the changed in the topic. Or perhaps, what she was enjoying was your attention. You nodded to her mobile taking your glass in your hands.

“They give you control of the room, didn’t they?”

Wanda pursed her lips glancing at her phone while nodding.

“Mr. Stark taught me the basics, and how to make sure that everything was perfect for the show.” Wanda mumbled, she gasped when you grabbed the phone seeking the app where Wanda was trying to handle the dome.

“You took my playlist, didn’t you?” This time around there was a hint of affection tainting your voice, Wanda nodded as if it was obvious.

“I wanted this to be about you.” She mumbled well aware that your eyes were now on her.

“Let’s make this about you and me, then.” You ran your thumb around the playlist until you found the song you were looking for. Your mouth broke into a smirk, and the sudden glint of mischief that appeared in your eyes made Wanda winced.

“What are you thinking?”

You left your glass of wine, stretching your hand to Wanda who took it without thinking it twice.

“Dance with me, my love.”

Wanda looked away with a tiny smile on her lips, her cheeks burning up while she started shivering under your hold. You stepped closer waiting for the song to start, your body moulding perfectly against Wanda’s one.

“I trust you know how to dance, Wands?”

“I…I know the basics.” She replied locking her eyes with you.

“Then, let me stir you around the curves.” You winked at her, loving the sound of her laughter.

The sound of the trumpet was the first thing that came into the speakers, and soon the music formed around the voice of Elle Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. Wanda snickered gasping when you twirled her around before pressing her body to yours, the dance started slowly with you just swinging around.

“Why that song?” Wanda finally asked, you shrugged with memory written in your eyes.

“Mom used to listen to it, America’s mom.” You clarified, “her mother used Elle to perfect her English when they first came here.”

Wanda nodded leaning closer, her arms sneaking around the nape of your neck. You wiggled your eyebrows bringing another chuckled from the young woman.

“And she taught you how to dance?”

“Yep.”

“Mom used to teach us as well,” Wanda rested her forehead against yours, “ours was more classical, but still it was nice. She was a little obsess of making me be a debutant, and Pietro a escort in the traditional sense.”

Wanda furrowed her brows at the memory, but whatever memory came with it soon was forgotten and replaced with a content smile.

“It was actually nice, and I enjoyed it greatly.”

“I would love to dance something classical, any song in mind?” You asked tentatively, Wanda opened her eyes a little taken aback by your inquiry.

“You want to? Really?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Wanda tilted her head thinking for a moment until the song finished and the both of you stood in the middle of the room just looking at one another. The young woman leaned in kissing you tentatively, when she parted from you your heart was already trembling under the sheer passion she shared through the kiss.

“No, perhaps later, right now I want to keep spoiling you.”

Not sooner had she said this, Wanda turned around making her way to the futons resting on the floor. She fixed them with care, full aware of your curious eyes on her; woman made sure to take her jacket off of her and fix everything so the both of you could rest comfortably on the floor.

“What else did you plan?” You finally asked approaching her with the same amount of curiosity, Wanda was smiling shrugging lightly.

“You’ll see, don’t be impatient.” Wanda hesitated for a moment before turning to you, “do you mind serving the wine and bring it over?”

“Not at all.” With one last glance you turned to the table ready to serve the wine when all of a sudden the lights went out.

You froze on the spot, lifting your head to see if perhaps it had been a malfunction in the system or there was something else involved. Soon, you could feel the breeze touching your heated face, the small resounding of drums that went increasing until music of ancient design filled the room and a single dot of white appeared on the far edge of the screen crossing the dome above your head like a shooting star.

You gasped turning around to see Wanda smiling at you, she had dismissed her heels and her coat approaching you while the music transformed into a soothing melody. She locked her eyes with yours, and while you couldn’t see it, you could feel her trembling hands on your blazer helping you out of it while fixing the posture of your sling.

No words were needed it when those fingers worked around the bottoms of your shirt and then she took you to the futons she had fixed on the ground. With a stretch out hand, you allowed her to direct you to the ground almost chocking on your spit when she knelt in front of you taking your shoes off of you.

“Wanda…” You couldn’t keep the silence, but your voice sounded strangled almost fearful to break the spell the both of you seemed to be in.

“This is about you.” She replied simply, crawling to you her lips found yours in the sweetest of kisses the both of you had shared so far.

You found yourself on your back, those lips dancing with yours in a silent invitation. Your heart was beating hard, you were sure the sound of the drums had long ago been replaced by the sound of your heart. Your put your open hand on the back of Wanda’s neck putting her closer until you were on your back and she was almost on top of you.

“I love you.” Wanda all but whisper in your ear, her face almost hidden in the crook of your neck while her warm breath caressed the skin behind your ear.

There was a moment of silence, your heart finally stopped while you registered those words coming from her. You never expected Wanda to say those three words any time soon, you understood the kind of pressure she had been in, and the life she had been living before meeting you. Hell, the amount of time the both of you had known each other wouldn’t give you both enough time to say such a deep declaration, yet you couldn’t deny what you had been feeling for the woman hovering above you at the moment.

Your eyes found those emerald ones, the affection she had always shown you was there gleaming with hope. She waited with her lips swollen, and a dust of pink on her cheeks; Wanda leaned in her nose playing with yours while her eyes closed to engrave the moment in her mind.

“I love you.” She said it again, this time around louder, stronger and you knew she meant it. Every single word.

Your eyes flickered soon to the screen above your head, this time around everything changed and it was as if the both of you were right outside. The night sky was gleaming above your head, with a million started twinkling merrily at you, the start gliding slowly until the movement of the starts start speeding up and soon everything changed and the first constellations came upon the screen.

Wanda could see the stars reflecting in your eyes, she was very careful with her weight always favouring your right side. Her lips curled into a smile when your face lit up with glee at the sight above your head; she remembered the first time she asked for help. America and Hope had been so sure about their proposal that Wanda couldn’t say no, but she opted to add some of the things she had learned from you in those conversations in the middle of the night.

“I love you, too.” You finally replied back, this time around those eyes were filled with affection and completely focused on Wanda.

The young woman dipped her head turning on her side until she was resting right beside you, her hand sneaking comfortably around your midsection.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to say it,” Wanda started but before you could reply she shot you a quick glance shaking her head, “you had been my saviour in so many ways. You can imagine where I was when I first met you.”

“I was a bitch on that meeting.” You recalled, but Wanda merely chuckled nodding.

“You were and I hated you for that.” Wanda turned to you never losing her smile or the affection in her voice, “and then I got to know you and I was…confused. You were making me feel so much, in so little time, and I was afraid.”

Wanda snuggled closer to you, “I’m not afraid anymore, and after thinking about it I realized I love you. As in, I’m in love with you, Y/N, and I don’t think I can stop my heart right now…”

“Why would you stop it?” You inquired turning on your side, wincing when you put some stressed on your left arm.

“I don’t know, what if…”

You leaned in kissing Wanda before she could finish her sentence, Wanda giggled welcoming the kiss before making sure you were back on your back instead of putting some unnecessary stress on your arm.

“Don’t think about the what ifs, Wanda.” You nodded to the sky above your heads, the music had changed into winds and cords, and the story of the first constellations came to be right in front of your eyes.

“I know it is too soon, still. That there is a lot to work on, but if you allowed it…I will be by your side until the last start in the sky had been consume by time.”

Wanda leaned closer to you, her face hidden once more by your neck though this time around you could feel her lips on your neck.

“How do you do it? How can you say such things and make me tremble until there is nothing else but you?”

“It’s a gift.” You chuckled when Wanda lifted her face rolling her eyes.

“I want to be with you, for as long as you want me, Y/N.”

“Then, let’s be together.” You sneaked your arm around her putting her on top of you, “let’s be a family and see where it goes.”

“I love you, and I just wanted to make sure you knew it.” Wanda insisted, you nodded pecking her nose.

“I know.”

“I wanted to make of this night something special,” Wanda said her hand lifting to cup your face and soon her fingers started dancing down your jaw to your neck to the open shirt. For you it was soon evident what she meant, and while she tried to look confident in what she was doing you could see the flash of uncertainty in her eyes.

Her hand was trembling, whatever expertise she had tried to show soon vanished when you realized she was getting closer to your chest.

“You don’t have to…you know?” You could see the glint of hesitation in her green eyes, Wanda clenched them closed in frustration. “Hey, Wands…look at me.”

It took a moment, but then she lifted her eyes and soon she was looking right at you.

“I don’t need sex to know I love you and that my heart is already yours, Wands. And I don’t need you to prove it to me; Wands whenever you are ready I’ll be here more than happy to make you scream in passion.”

Wanda gasped this time around her blush grew from her chest all the way to her cheeks, she tried to look away from you but you made it impossible for her to do so. Your wounded arm finding her face in a single caress.

“How can you be so understanding? God, I just…” Wanda leaned against your touch, “I feel foolish.”

“Never, Love, I just know… and I’m not in any hurry, whenever you are ready, I’ll be ready as well.”

Wanda sighed and whatever tension had been building around her left her body, this time around, when she kissed you she did it with the promise of the future. She laid down by your side, and soon she focused her stare on the stars above your head.

“I love it, this moment just you and me…”

“I thought we need it, you have been amazing with the twins but…” Wanda trailed off shrugging, “I think we were also needing this time to know one another. To actually share in an alone time.”

You smiled nodding your agreement, her hand found yours and soon your fingers intertwined with hers. The stars danced above your heads, and soon your voice joined the music and the different scenes playing with the constellations. You filled in the gaps with the stories you recognized, with Wanda asking questions or helping in the narration until soon you two were talking about mythology and reality.

“I wish this night would never end,” Wanda whispered glancing at the projection of the stars above her head, the show was about to end and she couldn’t help but voice what she had been experimenting in her heart.

“It doesn’t have to be over.” You replied turning to Wanda, the other woman furrowed her brows and you pressed your lips together turning on your side so you were facing her.

“Someday, right?” Wanda replied locking her eyes with yours.

“Someday.”

She smiled snuggling closer to you, “for now I wouldn’t say no to you sleeping with me, I mean without…I…”

You snickered placing a kiss on her forehead, “I know.”

“Did you imagine this will end like this?” Wanda finally asked, her eyes focusing on the sky above her head.

“No, I imagine it will start like this.” You glanced at the same stars, the same shooting star you saw at the beginning gleaming in the distance ready to travel through the sky.

“What do you mean?” Wanda scrunched up her nose, you placed a single kiss on her forehead nodding to the sky.

“I imagine this is how my relationship with you will start, and that after today we just ready to face the new challenges this relationship may bring.” You shrugged glancing down at Wanda, “I’ve been in love before, but…with you? It feels right, as if I was waiting for you.”

Wanda opened her eyes lightly before her expression softened.

“I realised that when…when you stood by my side regardless of my past.” Wanda rested her head on your shoulder, “I think this is the first time I have been in love and, I want you to be the only one.”

“well, love, you have a shooting star to make your wishes a reality.” You pointed to the screen and soon the shooting star crossed the dome and the show was over.

“what did you wish for?” Wanda inquired turning to you, you winked at her nuzzling her nose with yours.

“It’s a secret.”

“That’s not fair! You know what I ask for!”

“I do?” You furrowed your brows, Wanda nodded looking away for a moment before locking her eyes with yours.

“I wish for you to be my one and only love.”

You were shocked for a moment, but soon you answered to such words by kissing Wanda softly.

“And you?” Wanda finally said once you parted from the kiss.

“Me? Well, love, you will have to wait.” You smirked when Wanda seemed indignant at your declaration.

“Oh, come on!”

You pocked her nose, leaning in to kiss her pouting face away.

“Nu-uh, Princess, patience is a virtue, and I know you will know what I wish for with time.”

Wanda groaned in mock frustration, she was about to stand up but her hand grabbed her phone and soon a new projection started in the dome. You raised a single eyebrow when Wanda pinned you to the futon, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Well, then, meanwhile I will just do the second part of my wish.”

“Second part?” Wanda nodded leaning in.

“Yep, I wish to kiss you, and show you how much I love you, how much I thank the skies for having me given the opportunity of meeting you.” Wanda then leaned closer to your face, “I wish to kiss you until the story above our heads is no more and the only option you have is to take me home and spend the night with me.”

“Then, my lady, allow me to make those wishes a reality.”

Their laughter soon filled the dome, and it came accompanied by a sudden gasp and the sound of kissing and playful banter.

Wanda never imagined that her decision to leave Vision would end up with her finding herself, while in the process getting a job and making new friends. Not even in her wildest dreams did Wanda imagine that she would come across someone like you that, for the very first moment create a lasting impression on her to the point Wanda decided to explore the relationship.

Her past had finally stayed in the past, with Vision in jail and her getting the full custody of her children, Wanda now was sure she could secure her future while at the same time seek out the peace and happiness she so desperately needed. Now, with you kissing her slowly while sharing a moment of pure, and unrestrained happiness, Wanda knew that every single decision she had taken had led her to that moment, it had led her to you.

And she didn’t regret it.

With you, Wanda understood that she didn’t need to lie to herself, that she didn’t need to hide or to run. With you, Wanda discovered she could be herself and finally give in.

To be loved, and to love.

That was all that matter.

**********

Three years later

Morning had arrived with a bright sun, and no clouds in the sky.

You served the coffee while glancing out the window, the sound of running footsteps brought a smile to your face knowing that the holidays were the perfect opportunity for the twins to break havoc. No sooner had you thought this, Billy and Tommy came through the door wearing the baggy pants and the t-shirt they had chosen to wear that day.

“Morning, Y/N!” Billy came to you wrapping his arms on your midsection before going to the fridge, Tommy chuckled sitting down on the stool waiting until Billy brought two glasses and set the orange juice on the table.

“You guys have a lot of energy for a Monday morning.” You hummed when they shook their heads innocently.

“Nu-uh, just…America told us she would take us to the lake.” Tommy said shrugging.

“And, we haven’t said anything about…you know.” Billy mumbled looking around the room before settling his eyes on you, “so we thought you would be happy to know we will be out of your hair today!”

You chuckled ruffling his hair affectionately, setting your coffee on the table while serving the orange juice to the boys.

They had grown a great deal and now at seven they were far smarter than you or even Wanda gave them credit for. Three years ago, you never thought possible to fall in love again, nor did you thought whatever started as a tentative relationship would end up being the best that happened to you. You glanced at the boys that started talking animatedly while mentioning the different places America and Kate were supposed to taken them to, you smiled knowing your sister adored them and was about ready to do whatever they wanted as long as she got to spend some time to them.

You sighed leaning against the counter taking a long sip from the coffee, in the last years a lot of things had changed in your life. America had finally found her passion, she had decided to pursue a career in international affairs and her path led her directly into one of the most important universities in Europe, which ended up with Kate studying a couple of miles away from her. Whatever had started as a school crush, it had developed into a serious relationship that both of them had dealt with maturity.

You had finally gotten the time you needed to organise the business, and while your presence was always required when important matters arise, you had taken it upon yourself to be in charge of the development section of the company. It was easier, and it gave you the time you needed to spend with Wanda and the children.

The sound of childish argument brough a smile into your face, soon you caught the well-known voice of your girlfriend and your heat melt right away when Wanda appeared behind the hall wearing a familiar frown while placing her hands on her hips.

“Okay, you two, stop this argument right now or there won’t be any outing with America.”

“Yes, mum!” The twins said at the same time focusing on their beverages.

You locked your eyes with Wanda, your lips curling into a smile while the woman softened completely making her way to where you were standing casually. She leaned in pecking your lips while stealing your mug.

“Morning.” You whispered wrapping your arm around her hips, she giggled leaning forward before accepting a deeper kiss.

“Ugh, mom!”

“Y/N!”

You finished the kiss turning to them, “I will hold you to this moment when you guys bring over your partners home and decided to kiss them in front of us.”

“No!”

“Never!”

“I would never be this corny!”

“Never!”

You chuckled rolling your eyes, Wanda leaned in kissing you one more time before going to the coffee maker and serving another cup of coffee. You glanced at your watch knowing America would be there any moment now, your heart beating a tad bit faster while the heavy void you had felt on your lower abdomen increased and your chest tightened at what you had planned for the day.

Tommy and Billy glanced at one another before placing their hands on their mouth and snickering, you mock glared at them and the sudden exchanged didn’t go amiss to Wanda. The young woman narrowed her eyes standing right beside you.

“Okay, what is it?” She asked, and her suspicions only grew when the three of you answered at the same time.

“Nothing!”

You glanced at the twins, the three of you started laughing while Wanda softened her features. Even if she got curious, and a little wary, she couldn’t help but love these moments in which you and the twins would behave like a family. Once she had given in, you became the light of her life, your smile and your occurrences were always a source of amusement and tenderness, and the twins had come to love you in ways Wanda thought would be difficult to do so. They accept you faster than what she thought, and ever since that day after the planetarium you and her had been together in the good, the bad, the ugly and the pretty.

“You guys…” Wanda started but whatever she was going to say was cut short by a knock on the door.

“Save by the bell, guys! That must be America, love.” You gave Wanda a quick peck on her lips before running towards the door, once more the twins looked at one another before holding back their snickers.

“Okay, what is it?”

“Nu-uh, mom, it’s a secret!” Tommy said emptying the glass in a single sip.

“We promised not to say anything, mom.” Billy continued shrugging before approaching Wanda and offering her a hug, “but I love you!”

Wanda narrowed her eyes hugging Billy back, “I love you too, both of you.”

“Hey!! Where are my favourite guys in the whole world?!”

America stretched her arms to welcome Billy and Tommy, Kate rolled her eyes moving past them with a smile to greet Wanda. Wanda chuckled when their attention turned to Kate, America approached her wrapping her arms around the young woman.

“Ugh, I missed you so much, Wands! How’s everything? My sister still giving you trouble?”

“Hey! I never gave her any trouble, did I?” You pouted standing beside Wanda, the other woman shook her head putting you closer to her.

“Never, my love, you are a well-behaved girlfriend whenever you and the twins are not playing to break havoc.” Wanda pecked your lips turning to America. “Everything is perfect, but I have a feeling my girlfriend and my sons are planning something I should know about.”

This times around America opened her eyes with her mouth hanging opened, Kate gasped and the twins put their hands on their mouths. You snorted rolling your eyes, with this level of secrecy it was a surprised Wanda had not really discovered what you had planned for her that day.

“No, I mean there is no…Oh, look at the time, guys are you ready?” Kate babbled looking around while trying to evade any interaction with Wanda who had her eyes on her.

America snorted softening her stare while her girlfriend took the twins to their room, she then turned to Wanda who had a single eyebrow lifted waiting for an explanation she would not receive. At least, not from America.

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a passerby ready to take the twins on an adventure of a lifetime.” She said lifting her arms, Wanda snorted turning to you.

“You know, sooner or later I will find out your secrets?”

“I’m counting on it, Wands.” You whispered leaning in to kiss her, “now, how about you go and take a bath and I help America around.”

Wanda nodded dreamily, she gave you a quick smile before turning to America and giving the young woman another hug.

“It is good to see you again, America, see you tonight at dinner, right?”

“Yeo, we will be there!” America glanced at Wanda walking away, she waited until she was pretty sure Wanda had left before turning to you. “Well?”

“Well? You’re the one who should tell me if everything is ready!” You whispered harshly at your sister glancing down the corridor before settling your eyes on America.

The young woman rolled her eyes, but her lips played a familiar smile while she tapped something on her phone. Soon you were giving a fine idea of what she had prepared with the help of Kate and your friends; it had been hard at first to get what you needed to make of that day special. Your face lit up completely, and America could see the ghost of a smile on your lips while your eyes scanned the images she had store on her phone.

When you first shared with America your intentions, the young woman had been excited. In the last couple of years, she had seen the love between you and Wanda grow in something completely different. It was not the same relationship you shared with Shuri, and certainly it wasn’t the same type of relationship Wanda had shared with Jarvis. The both of you had been the best that could happen to the other, Wanda had learnt to love and be love, to trust in herself while also trust in the affection others held for her. You learnt to let go and to actually trust in the person beside you, you got to see how Wanda was ready to be a part of your life without losing her own little universe with the twins.

It had been a rocky path, there were fights, and sometimes it was quite difficult to fight against the demons of the past. But, America knew, if it hadn’t been because of the deep love you two felt for one another, the relationship would have been over years ago.

“I think she will love it, and I’m just…” America trailed off before offering you a quick hug, “I think this is amazing.”

You sighed putting your hand inside your pocket, the squared box resting inside your pocket.

“Thank you, this looks amazing.” You glanced at the hall before turning to America, “at what time you think we can go over there?”

“Mmm, I would say the best would be around 4pm, we will be there waiting for you so…” America waved her hands excited, “God, I can’t hardly wait, please tell me if anything happens.”

“I will, Kiddo, thank you.” You wrapped your arms around her, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too.” America chuckled when she caught the excited chatter of the twins and Kate coming over, “now, I will take them off of your plate for a while, we will have time to get up to date, for now, go!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You watched as they left in the midst of laughter and light conversation, your hand sneaking inside your pocket putting out the black box you had bought a long time ago. Your heart skipped a beat, your hand clenching tightly around it ready to give the next step in your relationship with Wanda. Your lips broke into a tender smile, the memories of the last three years filling up your mind with determination and love.

“Y/N?”

You put the box away turning to see Wanda approaching you slowly, the swinging of her hips and that flirty smile she wore made your mouth go dry and your lower abdomen tingled with anticipation.

“Yes?” You asked, Wanda came to you chewing on her lower lip playfully.

“Since the kids are gone, and you and I are alone, I thought…we could shower together, don’t you think?” This was said in a low, husky tone, her lips wrapping around your earlobe while her hands sneaked inside your shirt.

“I think…you have a wicked mind, Wands.” You replied, but before Wanda could do or said anything else you took her in your arms crashing your lips to hers.

Needless to say, you and she left the home later than what you should, but the both of you had satiated the thirst you had for one another. Love evident in your faces, as you walked around the city hand by hand.

_________________________________

The country of Sokovia was a beautiful land with a rich past and a colourful landscape.

Wanda had been excited when you announced the trip, not really believing you were going to comply with her wishes until you present her with the four plane tickets. By the time you four had arrived at the city of Novi Grad, Wanda had been completely excited telling you and her children all about her hometown. She spoke of the difficult times they had lived, and the wonderful things the new government had done to fix the mistakes of the past.

Billy and Tommy had been avid listeners, and they had started talking to Wanda and to you in sokovian while Wanda was just completely happy with the development on their vacations. You had been just happy to see her smile, to see the excitement in her eyes when she pointed to all the places she remembered.

“I still can believe you brought me here.” Wanda said sitting down on the table right outside a beautiful balcony looking at the far away mountains covering half of the city.

“Why not?” You replied taking the menu with a smile, “if anything, I should be sorry for taking so long, but you know? Life has been getting in the way, and I wanted for you to have time to enjoy this place.”

Wanda didn’t know how you did it, the way you were always giving it your all to make her happy. She leaned forward placing her hand on top of yours.

“This is perfect, and it’s the perfect time.”

You smiled back at her, looking at the menu while glancing at the watch on your wrist. You were getting restless as the time for the main event approached; Wanda was looking at her menu pursing her lips before returning her attention to you.

“Can I order something for you? There is something in here I want you to try out…” She trailed off glancing away for a moment, a shadow crossing her eyes, “it is something mom used to cook for me and Pietro and I just…”

“I would love to, Wands. Go ahead, you’re the expert so we will do as you said.” You replied closing the menu, you waited until the food had been ordered before leaning forward playing with Wanda’s fingers.

“You know? Now that you mentioned this about the food, I remember the story you told me once.”

“Which one?” Wanda furrowed her brows blinking away while trying to remember.

“The one about the forest, is around here, isn’t it?”

The way her eyes opened wide, and her whole face lit up made your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her as she turned around trying to point out the direction in which the forest was located.

“Yes! Oh, I can believe you remember…”

“I remembered everything you tell me, love.” You replied, and it was the tone of voice you used what made Wanda turned to you with narrowed eyes, you softened your features offering a reassuring smile to her.

“I always make the effort to have it in my mind so I can make sure to bring happiness to you, to see the very same expression you are wearing at the moment.”

Wanda turned her head away, her cheeks burning bright red while she smiled tenderly at your words. Even after all this time you still got to make her feel so self-conscious of the love you profess to her.

“I love you for that.” Wanda finally said, and you smiled back at her winking.

“Well, what about you and I go over there after lunch? I’m pretty sure at this time of the year must be quite the sight.”

“You mean it?” Wanda exclaimed excitedly, you nodded and soon thank the heavens you were sitting down for the kiss she gave you made your knees trembled and your whole body tingled with anticipation.

******

The afternoon was falling slowly, the wind was cold so the burning sun above your heads was not as strong as it could have been in a dry weather.

You and Wanda walked down the city, your hand joined in a single embrace while conversation flew with easiness. The topics varied from school, to your work, to the recent happenings of the world, to the twins and America; soon you two found yourselves talking about movies and books, the places you would like to visit or the worlds you would like to be in.

Life with Wanda was never bored, and every single time you discovered something new about her that made you fall in love with her even more.

Her excitement at being in her country was something you would cherish forever.

She dragged you down the streets, and then down the pebbled road leading to the forest. The place had changed since she was last there, it was now a national park that had been taken care off with the strictest rules and cares a country could provide to such a beautiful setting.

You took a deep breath when the road spread before your eyes, your eyes lifted to the signs, most of them pointing to different sections of the forest. Your eyes finally fell on the word Lake, and you lifted your hand to point it out to your girlfriend.

“There, lake, can we go there?”

“Yes, of course!”

You chuckled when she just grabbed your hand again, she twirled around wrapping her arms around your neck leaning in to kiss you slowly.

“Have a told you how much I love you?” She asked playfully, you placed your hands on her waist helping her walked backwards while you advanced down the road with her in your arms.

“Mmhm, not recently, no. I think I need a reminder.”

Wanda giggled leaning in, her kisses were soft and tentative, “I love you, Y/N, every time I think this is not possible, I fall in love with you even more and I just…”

Your heart shrank at her confession, putting her to you with your lips moulding against hers you poured all the love you felt for her.

“I love you to, Wands.”

Wanda sighed standing by your side lifting her face to the trees above her, her eyes gleaming happily just as the both of you advanced towards the lake. The forest was located it twenty minutes away from the city, and the entrance had been built around a public parking lot where people could acquire all the necessary materials for camping or a nice picnic. Some of the different paths had been fixed to give easy access to the people that visit the place, but the road leading to the lake had been left untouched with the nature almost claiming it back.

You were admiring the huge trees surrounding the area, the sound of the birds and other animals running around to hide away from the humans. You lifted your stare to see the blue sky above your head, and the cold breeze touching your heated skin. Everything was quiet and peaceful, only the sound of your footsteps seemed to interrupt the sounds of the nature.

Your eyes lifted squinting them when you spot the opening right ahead of you, your lips curling slightly when you finally spotted something else. You had arrived to the lake, with a quick gesture you stood before Wanda stopping her advanced towards her destination.

“What is it?” Just like she did early in the morning, she narrowed her eyes with a glint of suspicion gleaming in them. You shifted your weigh from one foot to the other, your hand scratching the back of your neck while your eyes danced around instead of facing Wanda.

You stood before her, your hand sneaking inside your pocket until you brough forth a single blindfold. She cocked a brow, half-amused, half-expectant at what you had planned.

“I may or may not have planned something for you.” You said tentatively, Wanda snorted but all you could see in her face was love and amusement.

“Figures, and I bet Billy, Tommy, America and Kate are in it?” She already knew the answer, but there was something else she couldn’t pinpoint to.

“Yep.” You admitted lifting your hand, “there is something… I mean, it is a surprised.”

“And I have to wear the blindfold.” Wanda grabbed the piece of clothing, never losing her smile, she winked at you, “kinky, perhaps later on we can use it for other…kind of surprised?”

You laughed out loud shaking your head while helping the brunette put on the blindfold.

“I love how your wicked mind works, Mrs. Maximoff.”

“Well, I love it when you play along, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

You let out a deep breath, the sun was still high in the sky and now Wanda stood before you blindfolded. Her hand found yours, squeezing comfortingly with that beautiful smile you had come to love and crave.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked, you swallowed down your doubts nodding before you remembered she couldn’t see you.

“I am.” Then, as an afterthought, “I’m just nervous.”

Wanda brought your hand to her lips, never losing her smile.

“Whatever it is you prepared for me, I know I would love it and…Y/N…there is no one else I would love to be with right now, you are the love of my life.”

You chuckled loving the tenderness Wanda used when talking to you, the fact she had come to know your insecurities and was always ready to reassure you of her love and your worth.

“And you are mine, Wands, now let’s go…”

You grabbed her hand and without wasting any more time you led her down the road towards the lake.

The lake was a great extension of water that spread out before a small beach surrounded by the forest. It was filled with grass, trees and bushes, with a crystalline water that was reflecting the light of the sun and the colour of the sky at the moment. This part of the forest was usually used for light lunches, and some swimming but at this time of the year the place was emptied and you had taken advantage of your money to get this small spot for you and your family for a couple of hours.

There was a single bench that had been decorated with red and pink, there were some balloons with a bucket filled with ice and wine. You helped your girlfriend so she could sit on the bench, all around her there was nothing more than flowers, blue lilies and orchids, the full scene had been planned out and built with the help of America and Kate that had just come from their hiding place with the twins.

You smiled at them putting a finger to your lips, standing before Wanda you pulled your mobile out of your pocket and let a single song filled the silence around the both of you.

“Oh, that’s…” Wanda trailed off when she recognized the trumpets and the melodic voice of Elle Fitzgerald. “Y/N…”

Your name sound beautifully on her lips, you took a deep breath looking around the place knowing you had chosen right. The lake was gleaming to your right, while the forest stood to your left, the mountains wearing a white bald head projected a protective shadow on the valley. This was what Wanda had always desired, what she had harboured in her heart when she still believed in love.

“Y/N…” She repeated your name, this time around with a hint of apprehension in her voice.

You knelt before her, your left knee touching the ground while your right knee bend to hold your elbow up your hand opening the box you had been carrying with you for over a year.

“You can take the blindfold off, Wanda.” You finally said, and your voice trembled with the sheer emotion you were experimenting at the moment.

Wanda took her blindfold, soon her breath caught in her throat and whatever sight she had before her became a blurred of colours and familiar images. Right in front of her was the lake and the forest of her childhood, the very same she had visited in her mind and memory after leaving Sokovia behind. Her green eyes flickered around until they found your eyes, and soon they fell upon the box in your hand and the silver ring resting in there.

The music was still playing around the both of you, and Wanda wanted to see if there was someone else or if the both of you were alone. But she was incapable of looking everywhere but at you.

Your lips trembled, your hand trying to hold still as you cleared your throat lifting your chin to face her with determination and love.

“Wanda Maximoff, I have brought you here because I love you.” You stated taking a deep breath making sure you never wavered in your intentions. “I realized a long time ago I can’t even think of the possibility of not having you by my side, of not living and growing old with you.”

Wanda sat frozen on the bench, her heart hammering hard against her chest while her stomach drop and her body tingled all over until a heavy pressured settled on her chest.

“I have loved you from the moment I met you, I just didn’t know it yet.” You chuckled shaking your head, “and I would love to make you happy, to love you, to cherish you, and to be your friend, your partner if you allow me…so, today in this place and with my heart on my hands, I want to ask you…”

“Yes…” Wanda whispered, you furrowed your brows shaking your head.

“No, wait, I need to ask…”

“Marry me?” Wanda asked, her voice trembling and her lips breaking into a content smile, you frowned though your eyes gleamed with amusement.

“No, you marry me, please?”

Wanda threw herself at you, her arms wrapped tightly around you while you fell to the ground hugging her back. She was sobbing, her voice a mere whispered in your ear.

“Yes, yes, I will…Yes, I marry you.”

You laughed turning your head and kissing her deeply.

“Then, yes, I marry you too, Wands.”

America and Kate both rolled their eyes, but the twins were squealing excitedly no longer able to hold themselves the run towards you and Wanda joining in the embrace.

Wanda turned to them surprised, returning their hug while turning to you and stretching her left hand where you placed the ring on her finger. Your smile was huge, and it was matching hers with the twins hugging both of you while talking excitedly.

“That means I can call you mom now?!” Tommy finally asked with you almost choking on your spit.

Wanda rolled her eyes fixing his hair before lifting her eyes to glance at you.

“Only if she wants to, Tommy.”

“You want to, don’t you, Y/N?” Tommy asked pouting, you ruffled his hair putting him to you.

“Only if I get to call you Tommy bear!”

Laughter soon filled the lake, with everyone enjoying the rest of the afternoon while you alongside with Kate, America and Wanda toast to the engagement.

“I can believe you…” Wanda closed the distance tilting her head to taste your lips with hers, you smile into the kiss with your hands placing themselves on her hips.

“You remember…” She said softly, in between kisses.

“I never forgot, Wands. With you, everything is easier, you know? I love you, and I just…I want to make you happy.”

“You make me happy already.” She replied leaning into your embrace, “but I will be complete the moment I can call you my wife.”

You smiled placing a single kiss on her forehead.

“I will be complete the moment I can call you wife as well.”

Wanda turned in your arms, her eyes following her children while they talked and played along with America and Kate. You placed your chin on her shoulder, watching the same scene with a soft smile adorning your features. The young woman lifted her hand to see the ring you had placed moments ago, a green stone that matched her eyes and white gold recovering the ring.

Her life was finally hers, and her happiness was finally something she knew she deserved and that was right there for her to live it. Wanda never imagined the moment she made the decision of leaving Vision her life would change so drastically, she never even played with the idea of falling in love again or finding someone ready to be patient with her past and fall in love with her.

Wanda never entertained the idea of anyone wanting to marry someone like her, damage and with two kids that were still growing up. Then, she met you. And she couldn’t imagine being without you by her side.

With you, she learnt to love again, to trust and to give herself without fear.

“Tonight, America and Kate are taking the twins to a festival and then back to their Air BnB so…we have the house for ourselves, to celebrate.” You whispered playfully, Wanda leaned back placing her hands on yours.

She tilted her head with her lips teasing yours.

“Then, let’s celebrate with them first, before I show you my appreciation for all the wonderful things you do for me.”

“It’s a deal, Love.”

“Y/N.” She called your name with a serious tone, you turned to her welcoming her kiss before smiling goofily at her.

“What was that for?”

“I love you.” She said simply, you softened squeezing her hand comfortingly.

“I love you, now and forever.”

And, of that, Wanda didn’t have any doubt for she too love you now and forever, until the end of time.

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