#angst tomorrow my apologies haha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hanibalistic · 2 years ago

Text

#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff, faint angst / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 3440

warning | brief mention of injuries / use of spanish phrases translated from the internet :( let me know if i'm wrong about anything! / everything i know about e-42 miles morales is from the movie

note | not the proudest of my writing here. also, a disclaimer that the events in this fic will deviate from canon haha

parts | one, two, three, four

"Uncle Aaron, I think we forgot to get detergent."

"You forgot to get detergent. I didn't forget nothing."

Miles's shoulders slumped in distaste. His frown mirrored the quiet complaints he spilled out of his mouth as his fingers tugged at the grocery bags dangling on them. He must have been delirious to still forget an item written on a piece of paper and to think the word 'detergent' wasn't even crossed out on the grocery list his mother gave him. It wouldn't be too big of a deal, but he imagined his mother would be mumbling about it as she set the table for dinner.

The doorknob fumbled a bit before the door swung open. The brightness in your eyes dimmed upon seeing Uncle Aaron's furrowed brows, which reminded you of the cautionary tale he kept retiring about being aware of opening doors to unknown knocks in case of danger. You still had difficulty getting used to a dangerous Brooklyn because yours was bright and sunny, and it had its very own Spiderman. Miles had laughed when you told him about your Brooklyn, asking if there was a ranking for crime fighting bug of the week; Spiderman today, something like Ant-man tomorrow?

“If I’d been a serial killer–“

“Which you are not,” you sang with vague cheerfulness as you tried to take the groceries from his hand.

“Hence the question being hypothetical–“

“Miles! You’re home!”

“Mi vida.” It was not audible. He opened his arms habitually and let you dive into his embrace. “How’s your day? Did you glitch?”

You perked up from where you buried your face in his shoulder and examined the bracelet permanently latched around your wrist. Gwen was the one who put the finishing touches on it, and she was so excited about the product that she came over in the middle of the night to hand it to you. It has been about two weeks since you began wearing it, and you have not glitched once. You told Miles it should be safe to conclude that the bracelet worked, but he always asked for good measures anyway.

“I helped around the house, as always,” you replied. Fixing the bracelet, you felt a soft magnetic pull against the tips of your fingers that touched the metal. You let go of it and rested your chin on Miles’s shoulder, sighing in contentment at the mere solidity of his body. “I didn’t glitch.”

Knowing that he was not being paid attention to, Aaron decided against scolding you for cutting him off twice. Instead, he rolled his eyes and turned to the kitchen, where Rio was shifting through a stack of sealed envelopes. He placed the groceries on the square table in the middle of the kitchen and smacked his teeth, looking pointedly at Rio as he nudged his head toward the apartment door.

Rio didn’t have to look to know you two were stuck in each other’s arms by the door. She smiled, shifting through the letters carefully with a shake of her head. “He is happy, Aaron.”

“Happy enough to cut me off my sentence,” he scoffed before adding, “twice.”

“I’m sure they will apologize if you say something,” she mused. “Especially [Name]. They’re a good kid.”

Aaron’s eye twitched in dismay. Rio was right—you were a good kid. He couldn’t hate you enough to delude himself into believing otherwise, and of course, he didn’t actually hate you. Besides the apparent naivety he suspected came from living in a safe Brooklyn, nothing about you was blatantly dislikable. You were helpful, albeit not the brightest learner. You listened well, which could be a product of being in another’s hospitality. And, most importantly, you were Miles’s safe place. For the first time in years, Aaron could see his nephew find time to be the teenager he was supposed to be. You practically breathed life into him, which worried Aaron the most.

You were a second chance that Miles was unwilling to let go of, but whether you return to your Earth was not his decision. What would happen to him when you leave? You would destroy him.

“I got the groceries, Mrs. Morales!”

Rio dropped the envelope in her hand and smiled upon your arrival. "Mi amorcito!"

You tilted your head with a thoughtful grin after you put the grocery bag next to all the things Uncle Aaron had taken out of the one he was holding. When Rio flashed you a questioning look, you shrugged. "Miles called me that before. I didn't know what it meant."

A choked-out cough sounded from behind all three of you, and standing by the kitchen sink was Miles, gripping the edge of the sink and coughing out the water that ran down the wrong pipe. Rio covered her teasing smile with a hand, but her shoulder moved to the gentle beats of her lighthearted chuckles. Aaron stared at his panicking nephew, a tinge of judgemental pity laced in his eyes.

Slamming his fist to his chest, Miles swung around to glare between the three of you before his eyes landed on your curious face. “What are you talkin’ about?”

"When did he say that to you?" Rio asked.

You rolled your eyes skyward. If you remember correctly, it was during the first few glitch attacks when you would break down from the sheer pressure of it. He had encouraged you to sleep with him on those nights, and you gladly accepted the offer. It was during one of those tearful nights, you believed. He had whispered it when he thought you were asleep, with teary hiccups still occupying your body's consciousness, and you remembered he had been stroking your hair to lull you to sleep. Everything about him was tender during those nights—his touch, voice, and presence. Unbeknownst to you, its cause was that he physically could not muster any energy when you suffered.

"He must have thought I was sleeping," you said, then you looked sheepishly at Miles, who returned it with a sneer. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”

“Clearly,” he muttered.

"I didn't take you for someone who would sneak into people's rooms when they're sleeping?" Aaron chimed in.

“I didn’t!” Miles groaned in embarrassment. “They cry like hell whenever they glitch. What was I supposed to do?”

“I did cry like hell when I glitched,” you said in agreement as you turned around from the kitchen cabinet where you were stocking the cleaning supplies. “I was the one who looked for him, actually. I couldn’t fall asleep alone. The glitching was terrible.”

Aaron’s eyes darted between you both. Miles reached out for you, his arm moved boldly, but the tip of his finger that touched your shoulder to get your attention was timid and boyish. He exhaled when you smiled at him, and the faintest smirk only you could discern to be a curve of contentment grew on his face as you walked near him. You scrunched your nose into a tight-lipped smile when he muttered something only you could hear, likely giving an unnecessary explanation for his comment on you crying like hell.

The rate you two could engage in your own world was almost admirable if Aaron wasn’t so cautious of Miles’s growing feelings for you. But watching as you two helped each other stock the kitchen cabinets, shoulders brushing and shoving playfully, he knew he couldn't do anything.

"We forgot to get detergent."

Rio gasped. She glanced at the washing machine filled with dirty clothes waiting to be cleaned, one of which included her work uniform, and she sighed. She would have to wear the one she did on her last shift. “I guess I’ll make a run to the store after my shift ends,” she mumbled with a thoughtful hum. “Or I can do it later on the way to the bank. I needed to deposit something.”

“The bank closes at six,” Aaron said questioningly.

“They have a drop-off box that opens through the night. It’s super convenient,” she clarified with a finger snap. “I’ll just stop by briefly before my shift starts. I might forget tomorrow.”

“Your shift starts at twelve, right?”

“Yeah,” Rio nodded, “overnight.”

“You gonna eat dinner with us?”

“I will,” she nudged her head toward where you and Miles were bickering about the washed dishes, “if those two would step away from the stove so I can cook something!”

The two of you froze up at Rio’s demanding tone. Quickly organizing the knickknacks on the dish rack next to the stove, not forgetting to scoff at each other about storing the utensils, Miles ushered you out of the kitchen with his hands clamped over your shoulders. Uncle Aaron watched your backs disappear into Miles’s room, and he saw your ridiculous faces trying to hold back from laughing at what he could only assume was an inside joke, as nothing was amusing about this situation. He gulped—he couldn’t do anything about Miles’s feelings for you.

The only thing more dangerous than a teenage boy in love is the person he is in love with. Taking you out of the picture would do nothing but bring Miles out of the canvas with you, leaving two vacant spots once close together. If you left, you would destroy him, but more importantly, he wouldn't hesitate to follow you everywhere. If you jumped the universe, he would jump the universe. If you got stranded in purgatory, he would strand himself in limbo. If you went to Hell, he would go to Hell because, at some point, it stopped being a biblical state of eternal torture. At some point, Hell is not a place; Hell is just where you are. And Miles would follow you there, always.

You jolted up with the television screen flashing at your face. Even in your sleep, your body subconsciously remembered there was something you need to do. Before Rio left for her shift, which was just a little after Miles and Uncle Aaron left for the occasional hangout, she gave you a sealed envelope to deposit into the bank mailbox because you insisted that you were going to head outside for a short walk of fresh air anyway, so you might as well help you with this tiny task. Except you fell asleep on the couch after getting ready and woke up at one o’clock in the morning.

Scanning the quiet apartment, it was easy to tell nobody had returned home yet. Rio wouldn’t be home until early in the morning; Miles tended to get home around two to three o’clock when he was off with Uncle Aaron doing who knows what. Leaning your head against the couch cushion, you drew a mental map of the path to the bank before closing your eyes. If you jogged, a round trip would take you roughly fifteen to twenty minutes. Not a problem!

Sliding off the couch, you reached into your crossbody bag that was big enough for a phone to feel for the envelope Rio gave you. It was still in there. You zipped the bag and patted it twice for safety, then fixed your jacket sleeves in preparation for the chilling night breeze. Turning off the television and the living room lights as the last step, you grabbed the house key lying in a bowl with some loose change and left the apartment.

Keeping up a light jog was easy under this cold weather and the dark streets. You liked walking at night, but you were never outside this late. There were no cars or people, much unlike the bustling morning you preferred much more. Uncle Aaron’s cautionary tale repeated in your head and increased your speed through the empty pedestrian road. The more you stayed outdoors, the more you thought it a bad idea to be outside at this dead time.

“What? What is–what?” you muttered as you moved your body about.

Glaring at you was the metal deposit box enclosed in the bank walls. It took you a hot minute to find it because it was behind a wall off the side of the building where the ATMs were. You thought it was a terrible design choice only because you couldn’t find it immediately; it would not have been if you managed to. The second hurdle came when you realized the handle to the mailbox wouldn’t budge.

“How do you open this?” you laughed as you gave the handle another pull. When the metal texture began hurting your skin, you let go to loosen your jacket sleeve until it reached your palm so you could use the thick fabric as a shield. This time, you put a leg up on the wall to use it as leverage. You pulled again. Nothing happened. Huffing in dissatisfaction, you pointed at the mailbox as if it could understand you. “You’re really–mhm!”

The swift kick to the wall could be heard. Miles perked up to where the soft rummaging noise came from and squinted his eyes behind the prowler mask. He scanned the area carefully, looking for any signs of people to find none. He remained tense even as he dropped the matter—gritted teeth and clenched jaw over a bank heist only a few days in planning. He has done this many times before. Maybe not robbing a bank specifically, but criminal activities were no longer a stranger to him as they were. He would even say he enjoyed it; he liked being strong, and it was a source of easy money. However, the main reason why he turned to a life of crime was to distract himself from the death of his father and you. Now that you were here to repaint a corner of his world with colors again, being a prowler was losing its appeal.

"Miles."

He snapped out of his trance at his uncle's impatient voice screeching through the earpiece, and cleared his throat. "Sorry. What's up?"

"What's up?" His uncle sounded incredulous. "Are the bombs set up?"

"Oh–uh, yeah." He peeked out from behind the bush to check out the blinking red light he set up at the foot of the gate. "They're all set up."

"And you? You got your head in the clouds just then.”

“I’m fine, Uncle Aaron,” Miles clarified with the kind of grit that would have gotten him in trouble usually. He took a deep breath. “Let’s detonate them so we can move on from here.”

The other end shuffled and scratched; its noise muffled the careless footsteps behind the ATM wall.

“Detonation in three….”

You pouted when you shoved the envelope in your bag, still mumbling about not finding an opening to the night deposit box. It was a good enough reason to give Rio tomorrow when she returned home from the hospital; that metal handle would not budge!

“Two…”

Miles perked up at the familiar figure trailing slowly by the bank entrance where he set a bomb device. His ears did not deceive him when he thought he heard footsteps somewhere, and neither was Uncle Aaron wrong about his head being in the clouds! Nobody should be out to the bank at this forsaken time, but his surprising lack of attention made him miss the slow walker—he tilted his head—a slow walker wearing a jacket he remembered he also owned.

You blew raspberries as you patted your bag twice for safety measures. When you looked up, you met eyes with a figure in a purple suit. His stance seemed agitated, and Miles was. He cursed under his breath when he recognized your face, his legs already bringing him out from hiding. What were you doing here? You should be at home!

“One.”

“Uncle Aaron, no!”

The ground shook under your feet, but what made you lose your balance was the impact of the sudden explosions that came in three—bang, bang, bang! The bank building was collapsing, or perhaps it was only in the process of being destroyed? You didn’t get a chance to see clearly. You could hear the alarm bells, though. It wasn’t the wailing kind; it was the kind that rang non-stop.

Meeting with the ground was not an extraordinary experience for you, but it felt worse than being pushed in this case. Face planting on marble tiles was mentally more endurable than outdoor brick floors. At least you thought that way for now. A groan left your lips as your brain was overloaded with sensations; you absorbed too much, from the alarm noises to the growing pains at the bottom of your body. You groggily looked to where it came from and saw glass shards sticking to your legs through the fabric of the pants. Great. Turning away from them, you noticed your bracelet scratching up tiny sparks, and you couldn’t bring yourself to wonder if you’d broken it.

“Oh no–shit! No, no, no, ¿por qué estás aquí?” Miles unmasked himself, showing his anxiously darting eyes. His hands hovered over your body indecisively, but he felt his fingers inching toward your face where blood trickled down the side of your skin. Miles needed to look through your hair for the source. Curling his arm under your neck, he lifted you to his chest. “Oh no, oh no. Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento–no quise hacerlo.“

You stirred upon his voice phasing in and out of your muffled hearing. Even with the migraine, you could recognize his voice. He was spilling words you didn’t understand, but some of the vocabulary you knew he had said to you before. Mi cariño, mi corazon…mi vida—he whispered that to you today when he came home from school. He probably didn’t think you heard, but you did. You exhaled, then an exhausted whimper pushed itself out of your mouth when the breathing hurt your throat.

He quickly regained his composure upon seeing a sign of life, immediately hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you to his chest, and leaping away from the falling debris. The sight of you bleeding and injured was all too familiar to him. But instead of letting the flashbacks stop him in his tracks, he planned to do something he couldn’t last time—saving you or at least trying to save you.

Returning to where he was hiding, away from the burning building, Miles scanned his surroundings. “Uncle Aaron! Uncle Aaron, help!”

“Miles!” Aaron emerged from the shadows. “We have to go now, we don’t have time–“ he stopped at the sight of you in Miles’s arms–“what happened?”

“They were here–I don’t know why! They’re not supposed to be out here at this time!”

You remembered how he carried you, which seemed to always be bridal style. It wasn’t as if he did it all the time, though. His hand on your back felt much weirder, too, like he was digging claws into your skin to keep you in his arms. If your senses had gathered better, you would have teased him with the hope that he hadn't gotten tired of you joking about his feelings for you. Licking your dry lips, you rolled your head to meet his chest. It heaved with each word he hollered beyond the fire, the alarm bells, and the disagreement coming from his uncle. They were arguing about where to go. Miles clutched your body closer to him every now and then. He was hell-bent on bringing you to seek medical treatment, and his uncle was not.

“Gwen is waiting!”

“She would want me to help [Name]!”

“We triggered the alarms, so law enforcement will gather here!” Aaron argued. “The police can bring them to the hospital just fine! We need to stick to our plan!”

“[Name] is dead on record. We can’t just bring them to the hospital!” Miles said. “I’m taking them directly to mom.”

A foolish boy. “You’re gonna throw away everything we built.” It was more than just doing crimes, it seemed. There was a bond, a mutual trust built in the process that was on the verge of collapsing. “For that.”

Miles widened his eyes in disbelief. He had his doubts about the way his uncle felt about your existence. Still, he held out hope that the aloofness resulted from the great unknown of the multiverse and Aaron’s personality rather than that he thought your presence was a nuisance. Supposed he was wrong. The casual dehumanization was all he needed to decide how to proceed. Miles hopped a few steps back, his brows furrowing and his grip on your firm.

“Tell Gwen I’m sorry.”

Aaron clicked his tongue. “Tell her yourself.”

#this is a self indulgent romance fic first and foremost >:( no logic!#gonna take a break from this for a moment though #miles morales imagine #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader

597 notes · View notes

rrxnjun · 2 years ago

Text

two people ;; mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader genre: wedding planner! mark, fiancé! jeno, strangers to lovers au | slice of life, slowburn, angst, hurt/comfort word count: 16.8k warnings: swearing, a break up a/n: i broke my own heart with this one. also, the blue monday series is finally over, after more than a year passing since i started it haha <3 sorry it took so long, but im happy to finally have a series that i managed to complete :) thank you for everyone that read the series, all of the fics are insanely special and to me and i hold them very dear to my heart. hope you like a painful hurt/comfort as our last stop!

synopsis: two people under bedsheets: one suffocating lover, one fool in a wedding gown. in other words, where you find the courage to get over your guilt and break free from your own promise, all becasue, in true irony, your wedding planner.

blue monday series | playlist

TWO PEOPLE UNDER BEDSHEETS, ONE SHIVERING WITH COLD FEET

You’re quite certain you’ve rethought your decision more times than you can count.

When your body hits the cold sheets of your bed, stumbling to your side of the mattress, you wonder if the heater broke again and you’re going to spend another night alone, shivering until the tiredness doesn’t make your thoughts turn off and your eyelids get heavy with sleep. Dressed in your usual pajamas and staring out of the window, watching the stars shyly glimmer, the moon kisses your cheeks in a solemn feeling of a weird nostalgia you can’t seem to shake off no matter how hard you try. The feeling is quite uncomfy. It makes your bones itch, it makes you wonder what is wrong and why you’re suddenly so deep in your thoughts, wondering about all the different paths you could’ve taken. You try to battle the feeling, but there’s no use– it’s too strong and you’re too weak; too tired to keep fighting.

A huff lands into your ear, a muffled sigh that makes you slightly open your eyes and still in your movements, wondering if you’ve woken him up. Feeling momentarily bad, you get ready to mumble a whispered apology for going to bed so late when you know that he has to wake up early for work tomorrow, acknowledging the fact that your arrival to bed always startles him and makes him wake up in the middle of the night, when a strong arm slings itself over your middle, engulfing you in a tight back-hug.

His body grows closer to you, shuffling himself to stick himself as close to your body as possible, a heavy breath reaching your ear. Your hand automatically reaches for his one laying on your stomach, looking over at him to see his eyes still closed, noticing his breathing being steady. You haven’t woken him up, you sigh in relief, eyes traveling along his face for some time, studying his features as if this was the first time he’s so close to you.

His eyelashes kiss his cheekbones, sharp edges of his face making him perhaps one of the most handsome people you’ve ever seen. You remember all the girls in university being jealous of you, for you’ve managed to catch Lee Jeno– the Lee Jeno everyone had been pining over ever since before you enrolled, feeling pride for how long your relationship has lasted. The shape of his lips is now a familiar sight to you– you bet you could recognise his mouth even with your eyes closed, knowing his warmth and his mannerisms while kissing you by heart now, for it’s happened more times than you can count; more times than you can remember.

Looking back over to the window, eyes briefly catching the time glimmering on the alarm clock sitting on your bedside table, you bite down on your lips and try to battle the weird feeling starting to dangerously spread across your insides again. His body pressing itself into your back is warm, trying hard to provide you with a sense of home and safety.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you fight the sigh that desires to come out of your chest.

Shimmering in the cold– because your body doesn’t let you absorb the hotness of his love anymore– you nervously play with the silver on your ring finger, twirling it around and feeling for the little pedant in the middle.

Almost like every other day, not being able to fall asleep, you’re quite certain you’ve rethought your decision more times than you can count.

Heels clicking on the shiny white floor, you walk through the narrow hall of the building in the very center of your hometown, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. As you near the service you’re supposed to visit today, your heart starts doing little tumbles and turns, your hands shaky as you think of the appointment right in front of you. Taking a deep breath in and out, you run your hand through your hair, trying to calm yourself down for the last time as you open the door and step inside of the room, telling yourself that there’s no turning back now and you’re in it for good.

The bell above the door rings, making you cautiously look around the room, noticing the whole store decorated in white and nude tones, plants and flowers potted everywhere across the spacious room. In the corner of the whole store, you see a little light wooden desk with three cushioned chairs, a desktop computer in the corner, various catalogs scattered across the surface with some more in a little white IKEA bookshelf right behind it all.

Admiring everything, you almost don’t notice the man peeking his head out of the door on the right, a hesitant look playing with his features.

“Good morning,” he says, bowing to you out of politeness.

Caught off-guard for no reason at all, you turn your lips into a tight-lipped smile, greeting him. “Good morning! I’m… uh… I’m supposed to have an appointment today,” you say, playing with your fingers as you clasp your hands together at your waist.

“Oh,” he nods, finally coming out of the room, furrowed eyebrows and all, “Ms… and Mr Lee?” he asks, confirming, earning himself a hurried nod.

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m- I’m Ms Lee to-be,” you clarify, licking your lips in nerves.

The man in front of you nods, ushering you towards the little station in the corner, leading you to the chair and inviting you to sit down. “And Mr Lee is…?”

“At work,” you mutter, putting your hair behind your ear, “he’s- he’s quite busy with work, usually, so he wasn’t able to come and I didn’t just want to cancel it, so I figured I can come alone, but- but he’ll be here the next time, I promise!” you hurriedly explain, suddenly feeling shy under the stranger’s gaze, not wanting to be judged by, who you assume is, your wedding planner.

His smile is gentle and reassuring, nodding as he stares into your eyes. “No worries! It’s okay, it’s just… unusual to come alone to a wedding planning, but I suppose we can work with only you today, then,” he says, his voice calm and sending shivers down your spine.

Clearing your throat, you take your eyes off the stranger in front of you, letting them travel all across the room, desiring to find something to put your attention towards. The whole situation feels weird and awkward. Who even comes to plan their wedding alone? It’s not like it’s only your wedding– there’s two of you that are getting married, and it’s only expected for you two to do it all together. And that’s how it was supposed to go anyway– the appointment at the wedding salon was scheduled a little over a few weeks ago, with Jeno reassuring you that he’s free that day; but when the day came and he told you he has work, you wanted to cancel it and come some other day. He refused, though, telling you that you can start on it alone and he’ll just compromise with you and follow what you’ve chosen.

It all feels like it’s supposed to be about you, but when your own wedding is the thing on line, it almost looks as if your own fiancé isn’t even interested in being a part of it.

“My name is Mark Lee, by the way,” the man says after clearing his throat, catching your attention again and offering you his hand to shake, “I’m the person in charge of your wedding, it seems! I hope you find working with me on this important day fun and that we can arrange something you two have always dreamt of,” he smiles as you take his hand and shake it, noticing the warmness of his touch.

Mark Lee doesn’t seem like your typical wedding planner. The ones you see in the movies are almost always female, with long acrylic nails and blonde hair pinned up into a funky hair-do, with bright eyes and smile lines imprinted into their face. Mark Lee, on the other hand, is a male– which is unusual, to say the least– and he also seems nothing like the movies. He’s calm and gentle, although still excited to work with you on the day of your dreams, with a shy smile and honest eyes that are slightly covered by the fringe of his chocolate hair falling into them, making him look young and lively.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, “my name’s ______ ______,” you introduce yourself with your first and last name, not taking Jeno’s just yet and shuffling a little in your seat.

“Okay, so,” Mark says as he takes out a notepad and types in the password into the computer that’s sitting in the corner of the desk, “I suppose we can start brainstorming today? Maybe tell me your main ideas, what you want for the wedding and what you don’t, how you want it to be decorated, just- just the general idea, nothing too detailed. We can move further when your fiancé is here as well, to make sure your ideas align and stuff. Sounds okay?”

Humming in approval, you watch him click around for a bit, opening some documents, while also twirling his pen in his other hand, the movement of it through his fingers fascinating you. The steady motions of the blue plastic of the pen catch your eye and make you zone out for a few seconds, completely making you forget about the task at hand and clearing your head out.

“So, anything you have in mind?” Mark perks up your attention again, making you swiftly take your eyes off the pen in his hand and instead look into his eyes again, finding yourself having a hard time maintaining eye contact with his deep brown eyes.

“I- I…” you stumble over your words, trailing off as you get lost in your thoughts. Wondering what your ideal wedding should look like, you chew on your bottom lip and try to imagine the day playing out right in front of your eyes. Your imagination tends to be crazy and wild, completely vivid, but for some reason, in this moment, you can’t seem to see the scene materialize in front of your eyes no matter how hard you try, all moments of it in your brain turning out blurry and hazy, making you sigh in frustration.

What do you even want your wedding to look like? How do you want it to play out? The questions run through your brain in a rush, not letting you focus and come up with answers, making the man in front of you silently clear his throat to get your attention.

Noticing that you’re probably wasting his time with this, your cheeks feel hot as you point your eyes towards your shoes, sighing. “I’m- I’m sorry. I think… I… I don’t- I don’t really think I have an idea of how the wedding is supposed to look like?” you mumble out, sounding more like a question than a firm answer.

“I see,” Mark answers, nodding in acknowledgement, “you have all the time you need, don’t worry. We’re here to make it perfect,” he says, smiling at you.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you realize you’ve never really fantasized about your wedding. You remember all your classmates at school sighing and gasping about the idea of a big wedding, marrying the love of their life; but you surely don’t remember ever engaging in those conversations. It’s like you never really cared to get married, you never really wondered how it would feel to kiss your loved one at the altar, you never really thought of it as a big deal. And now, when the day is supposed to come that those imaginations are to come true, you find yourself torn and confused, because how do you even chase a dream that was never there in the first place? How do you fulfill expectations you don’t have?

“To be honest, I have no idea about what I want, I just- I kind of know what Jeno would want, so I suppose I can just follow that, but- but I never really…” you trail off, seeing Mark nod and bite on his lower lip.

“Uhm,” he hums in understatement, “I see. Maybe… maybe you can look through some catalogs and see what you like the best? I understand that you know what your fiancés' imaginations are, but I also want both of the parties to like the big day, so I need your input as well.”

Gulping, you hurriedly nod, sweaty palms reaching over to the magazines on the desk, desperately flipping through the pages and pointing your gaze towards the pictures, trying hard to admire the big ceremonies, the pink and red decorations, the flower crowns and red carpets on the beach; but once again failing, noticing that this is nothing close to what you imagine when you think of what’s supposed to be the happiest day of your whole entire life.

The pages of the catalog stick together, making you desperately try to peel them off of each other with your clammy fingers, your breathing getting quicker as you notice the eyes of Mark Lee on your figure, watching over your every move.

This is not at all how you imagined the appointment to go. You’re only wasting his time and embarrassing yourself– there’s no way you’re ever going back.

“Hey, I’ll send you this quiz, okay? It’s like a- like a little questionnaire where you pick and choose what you like and answer some simple questions and then it gives you a rough idea of what your wedding could look like based on these answers,” Mark says, making you halt in your motion, “I know this is probably a lot of pressure on you right now, since the whole process could be scary and stressful and you’re out here all alone, so don’t worry about not giving me an answer today, alright?”

You find yourself nodding, averting the hands off the pages of the catalog and pressing your body further into the chair. “Alright.”

“And you can also take some of these catalogs home and look through them, mark what you like, take notes in them… whatever you want, okay? And the next time you come with Mr Lee, you can tell me what you both like and we’ll work from that.”

Following his lead in the conversation, you nod again and watch him close the catalog you’ve been frantically searching through for the last few minutes, stacking some more on top of it and pushing the pile towards you so you can take it home.

“Tell me your number so I can text you the link to the test and the next time you come, it will be easier, I promise.”

“Okay,” you nod, desperately trying to take your attention off the fact that you probably look like a little child, following each instruction that’s been given to you, too scared to take a move.

Paying your goodbye to the wedding planner and taking the pile of catalogs back to your car, your heels meeting the ground resonating all through the empty hallway as you walk out of the building, your mind flashes with the thought that Mark Lee already had your email address and he could’ve just sent you the link there.

Sitting in the silent car for a minute before you drive off, you try to battle the memory of what happened just a few minutes prior out of your head.

Fixing up your lipstick in the mirror of Jeno’s car, you get ready to enter the premises of the wedding salon once again, but this time, with your fiancé by your side. You suppose that the last meeting was completely useless- Jeno told you so as well, and you agree, in a way– but if you wouldn’t have gone to that first meeting, you think that the second one would make you even more nervous.

You see, it’s easier to pretend that you know what you want when you’ve rehearsed what you want to say beforehand. Taking the quiz Mark Lee sent you, and also a couple of more, accompanying yourself with catalogs, magazines and Pinterest boards while your fiancé was at work, you tried hard to come up with something you wouldn’t hate as much.

Maybe you just don’t like the idea of a wedding. That doesn’t mean you should crush your fiancés dreams to the ground and make the whole thing more difficult than it should be. You’ll just go along with it, get married, and then, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. It's as simple as that– you’re good at compromising, after all.

“Ready?” Jeno asks you as you put the cap of the lipstick you’ve been using back on, shooting you a quick look before you nod and open the door of the car, climbing out of the vehicle.

Following Jeno’s footsteps, so confident and easy it almost makes you feel like he’s been here before, you reach the entrance of the wedding salon in no time. You texted Mark about the time of the next meeting a week ago– you figured it’s easier to communicate like this, instead of emailing each other back and forth. Finding a time when it would be fine with both Jeno and you, and also looking for a free time in Mark’s schedule was quite difficult, but you managed to find a spot on a Thursday afternoon.

You hoped the day would come slower than it did, but as we all know, life doesn’t work like we want it to all the time.

Hearing the ring of the bell above the door, your wedding planner is already waiting for you at the computer, a welcoming smile adoring his features. You find yourself smiling back at him, easing into the situation. The man in front of you is wearing black jeans and a white button-down, opting to a more professional look, as he shakes his hand with your fiancé and introduces himself.

“Hello!” Mark smiles, sitting down at the stool, pointing his eyes towards the computer and clicking around for a bit, seemingly opening some document where he can note down everything you two tell him about the vision you have for your wedding. “So, as I already mentioned with Y/N the last time, I’d like to hear some brainstorming from both of you right now, just to see the general idea that we can build off of next. Sounds good?”

Jeno offers him a nice smile, the one where his eyes crinkle up into moon crescents, turning into the adorable samoyed you fell in love with in university. Reaching for his hand, you try to calm yourself down by playing with his fingers– an action you always used to practice whenever you were nervous about something– ready to continue with the planning of your wedding.

“Sounds great,” Jeno agrees, making Mark nod at his answer, glad with the reply he got. Resting his back against the chair, the man in charge of your wedding looks at you with expecting eyes, ready to hear your answers.

“So, what comes into your mind when you think of your wedding?” Mark asks.

Jeno looks at you for a split second, smiling, as if he was waiting for you to go first and say your ideas. When you don’t comply and stay silent instead, he wastes no time in turning to the other man in the room, talking enthusiastically about what’s going to be the most important day of his life, making you stare at him in examination and interest.

“I think of something romantic. I like grand gestures and big things, so I want our wedding to be one big party where everyone has fun and stays up the whole night,” he starts, making you hum. You knew that Jeno was into these kinds of things– he never missed a chance to celebrate anything with his friends Doyoung and Renjun. Even the way he proposed to you was a grand gesture in itself.

The whole thing played out on your vacation in Spain. You like Spain– the architecture, nature and the sea. Everything about it is your ideal vacation spot, a spot that makes you relax and reset after the whole year. Your first vacation with Jeno was in Spain, and so to be proposed to in the same spot you two walked across together a little over 4 years ago was only fitting and romantic. The beach spot you two found together when you graduated from university was decorated with flower petals and fairy lights, making you wonder how and when your dear partner managed to set all of this up, and when he kneeled down and asked you to marry him, you didn’t have it in you to say no.

Not that you wanted to say no, of course. You’re in love with Lee Jeno– you somehow think that you always have been and also you always will. Marriage is a big step, though, so you think that the status itself was what made you halt and hesitate for a split second before you replied a teary-eyed “Yes” and kissed your boyfriend with fondness and urgency.

“Alright, sounds good. When you close your eyes and imagine the day, what do you see? Anything specific?”

Jeno hums, even closing his eyes and thinking deeply, before he replies with a grin. “I see people dancing. I also think I’d like it to be in a big venue, a lot of white and pink… something similar to what you have going on right here, to be honest,” he says.

“Great. Y/N?”

Raising your brows up, startled, you point your look to Mark and realize he wants you to answer his question as well. A wedding is a thing for two– at least– so it’s only normal for him to expect you to have some opinion and idea of what you want.

“I… I’d like it to be something small and comfy? With my closest friends, and stuff. I don’t mind it being decorated simply, since… I’m not really that about flowers and… all that romance stuff…” you say honestly, making sure the rehearsed sentences you made up in your mind on your way here sound gullible.

It’s not that you’re lying– you just, frankly speaking, still don’t think you love the idea of a wedding. What you’ve said is just a thing you know you’d hate the least.

Mark looks at you with an examining look, furrowing his eyebrows as he nods and notes down everything both of you have said into the computer.

“That’s… your opinions are completely opposite, to be honest, but I’m sure we can find a compromise and create something both of you would like. I’ll show you some catalogs and you can both point to things you’d like, okay?” Mark says, rummaging through the drawers of his desk and offering you some magazines, almost identical to the ones you have at home from the last time you visited.

Seeing Jeno taking charge and flipping through the pages with much excitement, you watch his profile when he smiles and points to pictures of greatly decorated wedding halls, churches, tables full of cakes and a picture of the groom and the bride photographed together in a dramatic posture, dipped down and kissing. Flower petals, sparkles and fairy lights everywhere– this is the image of a wedding your fiancé would love, and you’re aware of the fact all too well.

“Isn’t this great, love?” he asks, not even tearing his eyes off the page he’s currently looking at, too busy with studying all the details, already imagining the two of you in the moment captured on one of the pictures in the catalog.

Eyes glazing over the glossy page, you bite down on your lower lip, sighing.

Again, you don’t find it in you to disagree. He looks so excited and you wouldn’t want to break his heart with your decision.

So instead, you only nod and try to put on your best excited tone. “It looks amazing, Jeno.”

Your eyes meet Mark’s for a moment.

The look is full of stern sympathy.

ONE SUFFOCATING LOVER ONE FOOL IN A WEDDING GOWN

The next part of your wedding planning journey is perhaps the one you, as the bride, should find the most exciting. How you’re gonna look on your big day is truly important, since you can only imagine full instagram stories of the wedding of every single guest invited, and also, the pictures you take on your wedding are what’s shown around to next generations, making your kids look at the moments captured in time, making them see the blueprint of what’s love supposed to look like while also simultaneously reminiscing of the feelings that died down over the years, simmered and a little washed-out into gray.

Maybe the last thing is what is making you despise the idea of marrying someone so much. What if, after many many years, when you’re at the end of your journey, the pictures would bring more pain than joy? What if it’s a painful reminder of something great that you no longer have in your grasp?

You don’t know what’s making you feel so conflicted about the whole thing. Thinking about it is scary, but the underlying stress of everything is still present and makes you constantly feel like you’re walking on eggshells, bound to mess something up.

Standing in another wedding salon, joined by your closest friend Seori– because you despise the idea of a big group of screaming women joining you on your journey of your own remake of Say yes to the dress– and your wedding planner Mark, you wait for inspiration to kick you and set you off to hunting down the perfect wedding dress.

“Hello, hello,” a man– lean in posture, wearing dress pants and loafers– joins your little group, a bright smile sitting on his face as he speaks to you, “I’m Na Jaemin, nice to meet you!”

Bowing to the man in formality and shaking his hand, introducing both yourself and your best friend of many years, you grow hesitant in your place. Eyes roaming around the room– walls painted a light peach color, creating a beautiful contrast with the white dresses hung all around the room– you take a deep breath in and out, taking a glimpse of Mark Lee standing by your side and saying something to you.

“This is where we usually go with our brides to pick out dresses, since Jaemin here has the most amazing assortment of all kinds and styles,” Mark explains, making you notice that the two men seem rather close. As you nod and walk around the salon with Seori, they catch up for a minute before the one with blonde hair walks up to you with a bright smile.

“Do you have any preferences about the dress? Any image in your head?” he asks, making you startled. This is not the first time you’ve heard someone ask you about your preferences for the wedding, yet, the question always surprises you and catches you off guard. Usually, you’d consider yourself a woman with strong opinions that’s not afraid to voice them– you’ve gotten into multiple arguments about feminism over your university years– but suddenly, you feel weak and disheartened, shrugging.

“I’ve looked on Pinterest the last night… and the last couple of nights, actually,” you softly laugh, trying to ease yourself into the conversation, “I found more styles that I liked, but I’m not sure if they would fit me well.”

“That’s what we’re here for!” Jaemin encourages you. “Just pick up whatever you like and we’ll help you try it on! Any adjustments needed will be done here, so don’t stress about it.”

Gratefully smiling and nodding at the man, you turn to the rack full of pearl white and shades of cream, your hands start working before your brain does, moving the hangers around and taking a look at all of the dresses available, taking your time. You’re not quite sure what would look good on you, not really able to imagine the dresses on your figure, and you feel the mental block of not being excited enough about all of this holding you back and tying you down.

“What about these?” Seori asks, an excited glint in her voice. Turning around to her, seeing the dress she’s picked out, you can’t help but giggle, since the dress is awfully similar to the obnoxious gown you wore to your senior prom, just in white.

“You’re unbelievable,” you laugh, coming up to her and taking the hanger into your hands, “one look and I’m back in high school,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief and hanging the dress back onto the rack, giving up on that option already.

“I still remember how funny you looked,” Seori laughs, poking fun at you, “I can’t believe you wore that.”

“I can’t believe you let me wear that!” you argue back. The memories of your senior prom hit you with a sense of weird nostalgia. It was all so easy back then– you went with Jeno, and you had a lot of fun together. It felt like an end of an era, and it truly was just that, even though the reality of it didn’t click for you back then. You’ve lived through multiple stages of your life with Jeno, and to think you’re going to be with him until the end of your life, seems oddly unbelievable on your insides.

“You were unstoppable, girl,” Seori grins, shaking her head. Continuing to look through the dresses, you pick out a few that you like, hesitantly moving them to the separate rack that’s emptied out for your options. Catching a glimpse of Mark sitting at one of the sofas, alongside with Jaemin, your eyes meet as he offers you a warm smile. This works as a reassurance, making you walk back to the dresses, standing next to Seori, seeing her pick up another white gown, showing it to you.

The dress is long and lacy, decorated with mesh on the shoulders, flowery details scattered all along the skirt. You can’t help but find the dress a little obnoxious, a little too much, perhaps, yet, you’d still call the piece of clothing beautiful, for you can see the appeal of a princessy look for most women your age. Hesitantly scanning over the many details, Seori speaks up to you.

“Jeno would love this on you.”

Meeting her eyes, she looks at you warmly. She’s known Jeno for as long as you have, all of you being friends since high school, so you can’t say she wouldn’t know. Because, frankly speaking, it’s true– Jeno would love that dress, and he would love it on you. It fits the image of his ideal wedding perfectly, with all the romanticness, all the grand gestures matching with the long skirt and the girly detailing across the neckline. You hate the dress, you feel sick as you’re looking at it, it makes you feel claustrophobic and dizzy, yet, the words that came out of Seori’s mouth resonate in your head over and over, making you pick up the hanger and move it to the rest of your options.

Jeno would love that dress.

“I… I think I have enough options now, I’m gonna try some on,” you say, smiling at the men sitting on the sofa, being met with eager nods of acknowledgement. The two of them seem to talk like old friends, and you can’t help but wonder why Jeno doesn’t meet up with his friends anymore and why he no longer has time for anything other than work. You’d like to see him like this– immersed into a conversation, yet, still playful and happy to just… exist.

Seori helps you into the dresses behind the curtain of the dressing room. The first few of them are a miss, you don’t like the way they look on you and the way some dresses enhance the features you dislike on yourself, saying no to them almost instantly. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get through all the dresses; it feels like infinity, like the time’s stopped and you’re stuck in this loop forever, when only two dresses are left: the one Seori picked out and your own, personal favorite.

Choosing the one Jeno would love the most, you wear it and hear Seori squeal out with excitement. “This looks so good on you! Oh my god!”

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you look like the woman Jeno would want to marry. Like a cut-out from the wedding magazines he likes to look through on his free days, you spin around like a princess, fitting the image of Jeno’s ideal wedding almost perfectly– with all the flowery details and romantic style.

“Do you like it?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug. You must seem unsure– but on the inside, you are screaming. The claustrophobic feeling settles into your chest again, making you feel like you’re suffocating on the inside, making you desire to rip the gown off and never see it again.

“Let’s show them!” Seori says, opening up the curtain and making you step outside of the dressing room, turning you in your place so you twirl like a Disney princess. “Doesn’t she look magical?”

Jaemin instantly nods, a happy glint in his eye. You wonder if he likes his job so much– he certainly looks like it, from the never-disappearing smile on his face and the enthusiasm he walks around the place with. You’re quite jealous of him. He seems like the perfect image of what you’ve dreamt of being when you graduated university– a person with their life together, loving their stable job and starting a family. Yet, you’re here– seemingly put together in a wedding dress that makes you panic, the eyes of everyone on you feeling judging, not sure of what to do and to which direction to step towards to finally get yourself together.

“She looks amazing!” you hear Jaemin say, making you nod with tight lips. “Is this your favorite one?” he asks.

Opening your mouth to agree– even though it’s a lie– you blink a few times to calm yourself down. The mental image of your favorite dress still waiting at the empty rack, waiting to be tried on, burns in the back of your brain, but you’ve said goodbye to it the moment you dressed up as Jeno’s bride.

“It can’t be,” Mark says, making you look at him with glossy eyes, confused.

“B-but-”

“You have one more to try on. You’ll see which one you like better after, okay?” he says, almost as if he was reading your mind, seeing the hesitance you tried so hard to hide.

Nodding, you step inside the dressing room again, changing the dress for the one you picked out with the help of your best friend. Taking a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your eyes almost start to water, the A-line of the skirt and the simplicity of it all making you feel the best, like you could actually imagine yourself getting married, if you were wearing this gown. Turning around in your place, admiring the silk fabric, you don’t think you could ever find a better one.

Yet, the other dress still sits in the back of your mind like a bad memory, not letting you leave without it. It’s there, pettily kicking it’s foot against the flooring of your brain, bringing you headache and making you nervous as your clammy fingers move your hair away when you step outside of the room, ready to be criticized by the other people at the salon.

Eyes shaking, they find solace in the features of your wedding planner, his eyes like big pools of honey when he softly traces over the lines of your body, his lips parted agape. The expression makes you shy away from his gaze, heat rising to your face when you notice light pink dusting the man’s cheeks, quickly breaking his gaze from you.

“You look beautiful,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. The compliment should sound more casual than it has, the three words making your hands shake as you turn back to the mirror, forcing yourself to watch your surroundings through it instead, shielding yourself from the situation.

“Thank you,” you say.

“So, which one do you like more?” Jaemin asks, walking up to you and tightening the dress around your waist, showing you its full potential.

Locking eyes with Seori, you see that she’s not up to the simplicity of the dress you’ve got on. You see the suggesting look to the other dress, the one that makes you drown in despair, the one that you should be wearing, logically; the one that Jeno would love to see you in, the one you should be wearing to be his wife.

Pupils shaking as you take your reflection in for the last time, you’re ready to say goodbye. You’re ready to take the dress off and force yourself to forget about it, force yourself to never think of how pretty you thought you looked wearing it, force yourself to never see the image of you in your brain– to not cause yourself the bittersweet feeling you’ve been getting used to recently.

“Y/N, you should… You should only think about yourself right now, okay? Our opinions don’t matter,” Mark says from behind you, your eyes locking in the mirror. He uses the word ‘our’, suggesting that you shouldn’t think about the people in this room, that you shouldn’t think about what Seori, Jaemin, or Mark himself thinks, but somehow, you feel as if the words had a deeper meaning.

Perhaps he’s telling you to forget about Jeno’s opinion for a minute. To truly let yourself get lost in the planning of the wedding, to let go of the opinion that’s weighing you down the most of them all. To pick the dress you like, and not the one your fiancé would.

“This is the only part of the wedding that’s completely up to you, after all. Maybe you should take advantage of that,” Mark completes, sending an encouraging smile towards your figure.

And he’s right. You can’t be fully in charge anywhere else– almost to the point of feeling like your opinion doesn’t matter if it’s not the same as your fiancé’s– and maybe, that’s what’s making you feel so restricted in the whole process.

Maybe you should take your favorite dress. Maybe you should do at least one thing for yourself.

The trips to Mark Lee’s wedding salon are a usual thing now. It’s your first time planning a wedding for yourself, and while you also truly hope it’s also the last time, you can’t help but feel a little weirded out at the ordinariness of it all. You get used to the trips to the salon, you get used to the time it takes you to drive there in your small car– letting you time the songs in your playlist almost perfectly until the last moment when you park and turn the engine off– only when you’re driving there alone, though, because Jeno likes to pick the music when he drives and compromise is one thing you two can’t do when it comes to a playlist. It’s okay, though. You drive to the wedding salon more times alone than with your fiancé, and while it’s unusual and you’d really want him to be there, you guess you can’t really do anything about it now. It’s not like he was the one to ask you to marry him, after all…

“What about the honeymoon?” Mark asks one day, looking at you from under his eyelashes. The weather outside is cold and he’s wearing a thick hoodie, his whole outfit looking twice as cozy as your little thin jacket that you threw on yourself quickly before leaving the house. The image of his sweater paws makes you wonder how it would feel to be in the soft material of his light gray hoodie, making you almost slap yourself when you're caught on your own with the thought in your brain. It’s not like you’re thinking of another man when you’re on your way to get married, that’s not it– it’s just the simple jealousy of the warmth Mark radiates that’s gotten you to this point.

Shrugging, you glance at him, meeting his chocolate eyes. “I bet Jeno would love to go somewhere to the sea. We got engaged on a beach, so I guess that’s the right way to go.”

Scribbling on the notebook that’s sitting on his table– you wonder when he switched from his laptop to written notes; maybe it’s the power crisis– he hums before he turns back to you with an examining look. “And you?”

After working for you for a couple of weeks, the man should already know that it’s no good to ask for your opinion when it comes to your wedding. You don’t really have an image in your mind, and when you do, there’s no use in pushing through with your view, since Jeno’s would always be stronger, and what Jeno says, usually goes. And you love him– he’s the one dreaming so much about marriage. So you do what he wants, naturally.

“I don’t know,” you mumble.

Earning yourself a sigh from Mark, you almost laugh at his annoyed look. “How many times do I have to tell you that you need to tell me something I can work with, Y/N?” he asks.

After so many days spent at the wedding salon with Mark Lee, you two have come to a state of a casual friendship. It’s not all so formal and stern anymore, leaving you two space for jokes and snarky comments about cliche decorations shown on the shiny pages of magazines, making you two comfortable with each other enough to joke about looking dead when the other one is tired and telling each other about your days when you have time. Ever since you two have met, you’ve been the most indecisive person Mark Lee’s ever known– and he’s met a lot of people in his profession of a wedding planner so far. The only thing you’ve ever had a straight opinion on was the wedding dress.

He can’t get the picture of you in your dress out of his mind. Sure, he’s seen a lot of brides before, the image not really impacting him as much anymore as before– for the look on the bride’s faces never failed to make him emotional with the premise of the fact that he’s a part of something beautiful. He’s seen a lot of brides and weddings before, but in the white lights of the bright salon, he couldn’t help but think that you’ve been the most beautiful one so far, and he can’t seem to imagine anyone ever beating you. It’s a silly thought– one that he finds himself battling more times than he should, but it’s still there, in the back of his mind, whenever you two meet eyes.

That’s why he couldn’t let you choose the dress Jeno wanted. Not because he would be selfish– at least he desperately hopes he’s not selfish for wanting to see you in that dress again, at least once, at the wedding– but because he knows that you wouldn’t feel like yourself in the other one. And why would he let that happen, when he’s practically the one in charge of the whole ceremony?

And so, the fact that you say you don’t know what you’d like for your honeymoon doesn’t surprise him. But still, he wishes you could let yourself get more in tune with your opinions than Lee Jeno’s. At least when he’s not present…

“I know, I know,” you roll your eyes at the scolding manner, “but I just… I’ve never thought about it before, I guess?”

“That makes sense, I mean, it’s your first time getting married,” he shrugs, “but you must have a place you’d like to see one day, no? A place both of you, with Jeno, would love to travel to one day,” he says, looking at you with expectations in his orbs.

Lost, shrugging at his question, you almost look full of despair and confusion. Truth be told, planning a wedding is not as relaxing as one would think. There’s many things to take in mind, a lot of things that can go wrong and need to be taken care of. And you keep telling yourself that it’s going to be alright and that it has to be the most perfect day of your life, but you just can’t seem but to be a little stranded, especially in moments when Jeno isn’t by your side; when he’s the one that should be in charge, and not you.

Maybe Mark can read your mind. Or maybe, he’s just too good at reading people.

“Okay, relax,” he smiles, nudging your leg a little under the table, “then just… think about what you’d like to see. Your dream holiday destination. A place you always wanted to visit. Don’t think about the honeymoon thing or the wedding, if that helps.”

The grateful smile on your face is like a reward for the man, your eyes close a little as you lean back in the chair and think of the place you’d love to see the most. Not held by the grudges of the wedding, not holding on to the thought of a honeymoon, you find it easier to see the place right in front of your eyes, to focus on the noise of the destination, the crowded town centers and amazing architecture; you find it easier to be in tune with what you want, letting go of the thing you always force yourself to say.

“I’d love to go to France. Paris. I- I know they say it’s dirty, but frankly, I just want to see it with my own eyes at least once. And I think it’s quite romantic,” you say, opening your eyes to see the man in front of you glancing at you with a soft smile playing with his features, feeling yourself getting shy as your cheeks heaten up at the words you’ve just uttered out of your lips, “oh god, this might just be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever said out loud.”

Mark chuckles, shaking his head at you. “It’s a nice change.”

Scratching the back of your neck, you watch as the man scribbles down the word ‘Paris’ into his notebook, the lack of eye contact leaving you with your walls down and your soul in open. “But I don’t think- I don’t think Jeno would like to go to Paris. I’ll think of something else, so it fits…”

Looking back up at you, the shame mirroring in your eyes when he examines your whole figure, he lets himself shake his head in disbelief, showing you his true opinion on the comment. “I think you should compromise, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said.”

“That’s not a compromise, Y/N,” he says, his voice considerate, “that’s just… you compromising. Not Jeno. Never Jeno.”

And while you’d like to tell him that that’s how it’s supposed to be, because you already agreed to the wedding despite not making your mind yet, while you’d like to tell him that you owe it to him for not being fond of the idea, while you’d like to tell him that what Jeno says goes, because you can’t imagine yourself breaking his heart with telling him that this is not at all what you want– you stay quiet. Shrugging, you avert your gaze to the ground.

“I’m fine with that. I’m more than happy to comply, if he’s happy.”

TWO PEOPLE UNDER BEDSHEETS, ONE WALLOWING IN DEFEAT

Swirling the maroon liquid around in your tall glass, feet dressed in warm socks as you’re twisted into a blanket burrito, you overlook the figure of your fiancé sitting at your small couch, papers sprawled all around the coffee table. Taking a sip of the red wine, you feel comfortable for the first time in weeks– you don’t feel rushed, you don’t feel like there’s a burden on your shoulders– and you pray hard that it’s not just the effect of alcohol.

“Can you pass me that paper?” you ask Jeno, seeing him turn around with his half-wet hair, having just come out of the shower after work, his slight smile putting you at ease.

“Which one?”

“The list of guests. The one in the corner,” you point to the paper sitting at the coffee table, the contents of it another important step closer to your wedding. Mark advised you two to compile a list of all the people you want to invite to your wedding, so you know how big of a venue you’ll need to rent out. You complied to his request, sitting at your table one afternoon and scribbling down names of all the people you’d miss at your wedding, having the list not being that long– there was around 15 people, including your family, and you knew damn well that some of the people in your list will overlay with Jeno’s, for you have a couple of mutual friends.

“Oh,” he nods, passing you the list, “want to go over it? I did mine a while back, when you were at work,” he adds, making you nod.

“Sure.”

“Are you inviting girls from university?” he asked, looking at you from under his eyelashes. He knew some of your friends from uni, and while you could very well imagine your wedding full of people that you barely knew, it’s not something you strive for. Your wedding, at least in your head, is supposed to be a little safe haven– a place where you dance around and have fun, a place where you know each face that shows up, being able to let loose and enjoy the evening with your closest friends. So, to Jeno’s question, you shake your head in disagreement.

“Only a couple,” you say, “my roommates, yes. The other ones, I don’t really need there.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, squinting his eyelashes. In the midst of the scattered sheets of paper on the coffee table, he finds his own list, full of lazy scribbles in black ink. You can tell he took the paper you keep in the kitchen for when you need to write down a shopping list, because it’s a little greasy at the bottom. Looking over the names he’s written down, you notice that his list is significantly longer than yours, and you can also tell that some names, you barely even recognise.

“You want that many people to attend?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I want them all there. Besides, my family’s big, so I can’t really make the list shorter, if that’s what you’re implying,” he notes, taking you off-guard with the sudden protest to something you haven’t even started talking about yet.

“I-I wasn’t saying that, but I think we could… go through your list and maybe forget about some people? I mean, my list is only 15 people long, and if we go through with what you have, we’d have to rent a big venue, and I can only imagine how expensive that will be…” you mumble, trying hard to pursue him.

There’s a shadow of an encouraging smile somewhere in the back of your head, a soft memory of a voice telling you that you two should compromise– you bet it’s Mark Lee, but you won’t admit that to anyone. Something about his words on your last meeting struck with you, though, and even though you would love to comply to everything Jeno wants, because he’s the one in desire of a wedding, you find yourself protesting to his idea, because, frankly, maybe you do not want to spend that much money on a venue, and also, maybe because you wanted your wedding to be small and intimate.

“I don’t care how much it costs, Y/N,” he shrugs, “it’s our wedding. We can spend some money on the special day.”

Sighing, you chew on the inside of your cheek. “I just thought we could have a smaller wedding, you know. I always wanted it to be filled with people I know, people I can’t imagine the day go by without, so I was very cautious with the choice of my guests-”

“And I wasn’t?” he cuts you off, suddenly all defensive.

“That’s not what I said, Jeno-”

“Look, I don’t want to cut anyone off the list. You have your own guest list and I have mine. We rent a venue that can fit both, okay?” he insists, making you finally snap, annoyance for the first time slipping off your tongue.

“Why can’t we just compromise on this?”

The man looks at you with cold eyes, something you never imagined to see from a man you’re in love with. Sure, you’ve had arguments before. Yes, they scared you a little each time, but they weren’t anything you weren’t sure you wouldn’t get through. You and Jeno argue over small, blatant things, things you can fix in a second– nothing to make you worry. This time, though, there’s a hit in your stomach that makes you freeze in your movements, halt in your step. Maybe you’ve hit a weak spot in him. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

“Do whatever you want,” he says, full of frustration as he throws the paper onto the table and storms off, closing the door behind him as he walks off to the bedroom, ready to sleep.

Is this how your dialogue was supposed to go? With you stating your needs, and him telling you to get over it? Do whatever you want?

You scoff. As if you wanted to get married in the first place…

Drinking the rest of the glass, you shuffle further down into the sofa, trying hard to make yourself fall asleep in the living room, despite your thoughts running around like they’re on a marathon. The warmth that radiated off the man and the whole situation is now long gone, leaving you feeling like an unlit fireplace, hugging yourself as if to shield your body from the impact of the silent sobs that dare to cut out of your throat.

What Jeno wants, goes. How silly of you to think you can compromise.

Sometimes, you wonder if you’re just not holding on to something that’s slowly burning out. Looking at your fiancé in the wedding salon right now, his side profile so perfect you’ve gotten used to it over the years, you reminisce about the memories you two have made together during your early stages of the relationship. The images flash through your brain in a feeling of bittersweet nostalgia, making you desire a time of life that’s no longer here, because you’re getting older and settling down. It’s not like you can feel free forever, you just don’t feel like you’re free in the relationship anymore– and truth be told, you were free and in love in all those moments you think of with a soft smile, so why is the essence of it no longer there? Is it really just because the thought of marrying someone is so deeply terrifying to you, or is there something more to it?

“Do you like these?” Jeno asks, holding up a wedding invitation to you. It’s snow white and the corners are rimmed with a rose gold color, everything falling perfectly with the decorations and the whole theme of your wedding.

“I do,” you nod.

You don’t.

Everything about the whole day, the closer it is, the more scary it truly feels to you. You can’t bring yourself to think of it, to imagine it, to have the promise of staying with Lee Jeno until the rest of your life right there in front of you eyes, and it all makes you wonder– truly, deeply reflect on yourself– as to why you don’t want that, and why you’re so scared of staying with him forever, when in theory, he’s the one you love and the one you should want to marry.

“And what about these ones?”

“They’re pretty,” you reply, not meeting his eyes.

You wonder if this is just the aftertaste of the fight you had about the number of guests. Maybe you just don’t feel in tune with it because neither of you has acknowledged the argument yet, maybe because you feel bitter because you felt like your opinion wasn’t valid in the process. Maybe that’s what’s making you soullessly stare into nowhere, eyes trailing over the white walls and the clasped hands of your wedding planner sitting cautiously right opposite of you– maybe that’s what’s making you agree to everything Jeno likes; because your opinion will never matter in the first place.

But that’s okay. That’s your fate now– that’s what you signed up for, after all. You agreed to marry him. You told him yes, even though the reply wasn’t clear in your head, you said you’d love to spend your forever with him, even though the feelings battling inside of you were so conflicting, yet the one you were leaving more towards was the urge to run away. So now, you have to face it; you have to marry him, because you lied to him about your emotions, because you let him down with a promise you never wanted to keep; because you can’t face the reality of breaking the man’s heart when all he did was love you deeply.

And it’s not even that you don’t love him anymore. Maybe you just hate the idea of your relationship feeling ordinary. Maybe you’re selfishly just bored.��

“So, which ones do you prefer?” Jeno asks, looking at you with big eyes. If you stare into them for long enough, you could even see a hint of him trying to do better– asking for your opinion and ready to respect it, a hint of him saying sorry for the things he’d said without words, laying the opportunity of being in charge to you again.

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek. You hate both. You hate the idea of every single wedding invitation, because you don’t want a wedding, and the idea of using these little pieces of cardboard to invite numerous people to see you lying into your partner’s eyes makes you want to dig a hole and lie in it, maybe even bury yourself alive. “I like both.”

“But we need to choose one,” he insists, putting a hand to your thigh, his grip soft, yet protective and comforting. You used to love his sudden touches, the affection seeping off his fingers any time his fingertips glazed the surface of your skin. Now, you find yourself wanting to shrug the hand off, for the contact of it with your body burns, making you guilty for a mess that’s currently going on in your head, making you dizzy and confused.

“I-” you stutter, “which ones do you like?” you ask, helpless.

Eyes scanning over your figure, Jeno almost pressures you for more. He almost asks for your opinion again, wanting to see the excited glint in your eye as you look through the magazines and choose your wedding invitations, but when he finds nothing in the endless pools of your eyes, he knows to step back and leave it be, a hopeless sigh escaping his lips. “I like the first ones better.”

You could guess the answer if you were asked to.

Smiling, you nod. “I was leaning towards these as well.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally,” you nod, trying to reassure him with a soft smile. You’re not sure if it reaches your eyes– you just know that if it doesn’t, Jeno can clearly tell.

“Okay, that’s all for today, I think,” Mark concludes, making you look at him. His chocolate orbs are plastered on your distressed face and you feel naked in front of him, you feel as if he can see right through your lies, as if he can tell that you really want to be anywhere but here right now.

“Thank you,” Jeno smiles at your wedding planner, the two of them shaking hands in a formal manner before your fiancé stands up from his chair and reaches for his coat, ready to leave the office. When your eyes meet with Mark’s, you offer him a friendly smile– the one you always have saved for him– and turn towards your coat as well, ready for your departure. Just when you’re about to leave the room, Mark’s voice echoes after you, making you halt in your movements.

“Actually, I forgot… Can I talk with Y/N alone for a sec? It’s about dresses, so… you’re not really allowed to hear, Jeno,” he says, cracking his knuckles as he utters those words, making you nod as Jeno offers him a polite nod, telling you that he’ll be waiting for you in the car outside. Once the door closes behind him and the room falls silent, you move closer towards Mark, looking at him with expecting eyes.

“What is it?” you ask.

Mark takes a deep breath in and out, shaking his head as if to get his thoughts straight, before he looks at you again with softness in his eyes, his voice barely louder than a whisper– for the contents of his speech are something that should be banned to say, especially in a setting like this. “You know you can still back away, right?”

Looking at him for a few seconds, a few seconds that feel like eternity, you blink at him in shock and surprise. “What?”

“There’s still time to say no,” he says, now looking you dead in the eyes, the expression stern, yet considerate.

His words can’t really process in your head, the whole situation making you break down your walls as you shake your head, running your hand through your hair. Scoffing in disbelief, you turn defensive– because who is Mark Lee to tell you anything about your upcoming marriage and why can he see right through you? Who gave him the right to see through your walls, through the facade you built up all those months ago; who let him make you feel utterly, completely naked in front of him, scared of what he’ll see inside?

“What are you even talking about?” you snap.

“I think you know what I mean, Y/N,” he says.

“I-” you stutter again, all words stuck inside of your throat, “why would I even want to do that? Why would I want to call it off?”

“Y/N-”

Nothing can stop the tangent that’s incoming out of your lips right now– not the soft, considerate look he gives you, not the eyes full of truth and honesty staring right inside of your soul, not the soft touch on your shoulder that you shrug off in the speed of light as your hands fly into the air in frustration. “It’s not your place to tell me to cancel my wedding, Mark, and I don’t know what’s gotten into your brain to make you think for just a second that that’s what I want to do, because- because I know that I’ve been out of it, I do know that, but I just- I just can’t do that to Jeno even if I really wanted to, you know?” you let out, tired voice echoing off the walls of the salon. “So don’t go around and tell me I can still say no, when I’ve already said yes, and don’t try to tell me that this is what I want, because I truly, deeply wish that I didn’t.”

The defeated look on your face is enough for the man to break, yet, he offers you nothing more than silence as you stare him down, wordless and empty. Breathing heavily, you turn to the door, shaking your head in disapproval of the whole thing.

Turning around one last time at the door, you try to burn Mark Lee down with your eyes, for the comfort he gives you with this new opportunity both sets you free and makes you suffocate at once, his words make your insides burn with ashes as you desperately try to breathe for fresh air– the whole thing leaves you mad and stranded, completely alone and left to lean on nobody, because the one that’s supposed to be there for you now and forever is the object of this mere conversation.

“Don’t- don’t mention this again,” you sternly say, reaching for the doorknob, feeling a stray tear falling off your cheek as you escape the pure white walls of his office.

This whole time, you didn’t even notice you’ve been crying.

Voices of the people present resonate through the half-empty venue, pearl white pillars supporting the weight of the ceiling situated in calculated places all around the spacious room as you lean on one of them, watching your fiancé walk around with your wedding planner, observing the place. There are big windows on one of the walls, the glass panels providing you with a view of the outside– a pretty, long garden filled with flowers that will wilt once the cold season is over, tall trees shielding some places from the sun, providing a relaxing shade.

Tugging your sleeves down to further cover your arms, since the place is kind of chilly, you try to catch up to the two men in the other corner of the room, both physically and in conversation. Listening to Jeno asking all about the technical stuff and how the place is going to look once decorated, Mark answers him with factual answers, showing him around and making sure the groom is 100% satisfied with his choice.

You still think you’d prefer a smaller venue– you still prefer a smaller wedding. It’s not up to you to decide, though, and you’ve given up on that opportunity a long time ago. Maybe in the same moment you said yes to him on the beach– you think that was the moment where you decided your own destiny, the moment where you tied yourself down with a metal ball on your leg, and now it’s your fate to drag it around and pretend it’s not there and that you’re not bothered by the weight.

“It seems perfect,” Jeno hums, making you automatically nod with a mechanical smile, looking around the venue once again. In Jeno’s eyes, it sure does seem perfect– it fits all the criteria of his ideal wedding, of the best day of his whole, entire life. And you can’t lie, if you really tried hard enough, you could even see the vision. You could even force yourself to enjoy the image of it in your head, you could even imagine the day going exactly by the plan, and in reality, nothing will even change, because you’ve been living with Jeno for quite a while now, but the concept just seems so scary and unnatural to you that you can’t help but feel like the reality will crash you any passing second if you don’t try hard enough to keep your guard up.

“It’s amazing,” you nod, afraid to meet any of the men’s eyes. Gathering up all the courage you have left in you, you add another convincing message. “I can almost imagine it all decorated and stuff, it’s gonna be great.”

You hear a strangled hum come out of Mark’s throat, a noise you can only decipher with it’s true emotion because you still have the conversation from a few weeks ago fresh in your brain, replaying over and over in front of your eyes as you can’t fall asleep under the blankets of your soft bed, twisting and turning in despair. If he could see it, why can’t Jeno?

There’s a hint of you that wishes oh so deeply that your fiancé, the man that knows you the best, could see right through your white lies; there’s a hint of you that desires for him to talk to you about it, to get mad and leave you for leading him on and breaking his heart.

That doesn’t come, though, and you know it never will. You're too far in now to ever look back.

A touch on your hand brings you to avert your gaze from the ground to the man next to you, the emptiness of it all breaking your heart a thousand times over and over, your heart yearning for somebody to take it and mold it back together, glue the sharp pieces back again even though they could cut them, to tell you that it’s okay and that you’re human and that people make mistakes, yours just was a way bigger one than you should’ve ever let happen. But that doesn’t come, and it may never– but it’s okay, because you are the reason for your own downfall, and you’re the reason why you now have to play pretend and suffer.

You glance up at Mark. Strangely, his eyes soften. He should hate you– for even though you pretend, he knows damn well what storm’s going on on the inside, and maybe you could say it’s only for the years of experience he has with fiancés eagerly planning their wedding that he can see you don’t share the same enthusiasm, or you two were just simply connected and in tune. Chewing harshly on your lower lip, so hard you taste the iron bitterness of your own blood on your tongue, your discomfort tries hard to show at your face and you keep battling hard to not let it slip.

It’s been years with Lee Jeno by your side. Why can’t he see your suffering?

And you keep telling yourself that maybe it’s just his own joy and enthusiasm that makes him so blind to your averted eyes and still body under his sheets. But that doesn’t help your situation; you’d argue it makes it even worse, for you don’t think you can keep going for any longer, and he’s the one pushing forward with such force. You never enjoyed the difference in power you two have. You should’ve never said yes to him in the first place.

And it’s drowning you, because it’s not even his fault. He’s done nothing wrong, but you can’t help but want to stay away, want to hide and run whenever the topic of a wedding is brought to your attention, because it’s not what you desire, even though it’s what you should want, after so many years by his side.

Mark’s voice echoes in your brain, his damn argument never leaving the walls of your head. You want to silence it, but you’re never strong enough.

It’s never too late to back away. But how could you do that to him? You shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t, and that’s why you’ll never do so, no matter how scared and panicked you feel.

You shouldn’t, because you loved him.

ONE UNREQUITED BELIEF

They say that staring into a cup of black coffee won’t make your troubles go away; nor will it make you feel at least a little better about yourself, but nonetheless, you do it on a cloudy, sad afternoon, sitting in your kitchen as you hug your knees to your chest. Hearing the steady ticking of the clock on the wall, you wonder why you can’t make the time stop– why you can’t just hide away from your problems for a little while, finding a quiet haven and listening to yourself for just a second, to see what you really need and what you should do.

But you can’t stop the time, even though you sometimes really desire for that to happen, and that leads to your fiancé eventually coming home to find you staring into the cup of now cold, black coffee, the solemn look on your face telling him perhaps more than you would’ve expect, but still not enough to fully understand.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking a cautious seat on the chair opposite of yours, not even bothering to put away the groceries he brought with himself on his way from work. Sensing the tense atmosphere, you take a glimpse on his face, and with the sad pools that are his eyes right now, you force yourself to swallow away the guilt and look away.

“Nothing,” you mourn, your voice weak and almost a little shameful. It makes you feel bad for him– for letting him see you like this, on your worst; but the reality of the knowledge that if you two want to really stay together forever, he has to see you like this until you die– the image of him looking at you with such scared eyes every single time, it sends shivers down your spine. You’d rather crawl out of your own skin than to experience it over and over again, the motion of it destroying you completely until there’s nothing left of you than a broken, empty shell of a human you used to be.

And Jeno, he’d fit in your skin, if he could. He’d crawl inside with you, trying to fix every piece that’s broken, trying to understand the patterns of your veins and the thoughts flowing through your head. But the truth is, that you’ve got some problem, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. And that’s even scarier than anything he’s ever encountered before.

But he’s not stupid.

“We need to talk about the wedding, right?” he asks, and the reality comes crashing down on you. He knows– he knows, he knows, he knows; he’s aware of the storm on your inside and how the raindrops can’t seem but to wash you completely away, making you drown. And you should’ve expected it, he’s your partner, after all, but you never once in your life could’ve predicted the lost look in his eyes when you finally look up at him from the darkness of your coffee cup and offer him a hushed whisper.

“What about it?”

Offering you a tired smile, he sighs and nestles deeper into the chair. Brushing his hair out of his face, as if to prepare himself for the tough conversation, he puts his hands on the table and you watch his muscles flex when he moves to crack the knuckles of his palms in nerves, a habit you’ve noticed in him from when you first started dating back in high school.

“You’re unhappy with it,” he proclaims, not even leaving you a second to react with a disapproving ramble that he knows is coming– you always say everything’s fine when it’s not– as he proceeds with his observations, “and I know I might have been too pushy with some of my decisions, and I wasn’t being considerate enough of your opinions, but I promise you that we can change all the parts you don’t like and compromise. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you can’t have a say in it,” he says, and there’s a wallowing pit inside of your stomach, because after all,

he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he doesn’t see it in your eyes when you tiredly close them to get rid of the exhaustion, he doesn’t understand that this is not the problem, and it’s okay, because he’s not a mind reader, but to your poor, selfish self, it feels like you’ve been wronged, because who can understand you in this, if not your own fiancé, the love of your life?

“It’s okay, Jeno,” you mumble, almost automatically.

“I said I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

There’s a silence overtaking you two, the clock ticking on the wall driving you insane. You think that if you hear the piercing sound of it ever again, you might just open the kitchen window and jump out of it, but then there’s another sound, and that one makes you crawl out of your skin again, the sound of Jeno's voice making your nails scrape against your own insides as the last remains of you need to stay inside, true to themselves.

“So what’s wrong? What do we work on?” he asks, and the tone of his voice is so considerate, so gentle, it almost brings you to tears.

Because you don’t deserve to be treated like this.

Because you’re a traitor. That’s what you are, aren’t you?

“Nothing…”

“Do we change the invitations? Is it the venue?” he insists, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion as you don’t offer him any response. The silence is excruciating to him and you can clearly see, but still, it doesn’t lead you to breaking the truth to him, it doesn’t make you say the words that have been slowly dying at the tip of your tongue since the day you got engaged.

“Y/N, if you don’t tell me, we can’t fix it. Can you please talk to me and tell me what it is so we can work on it together?” he asks.

And it’s killing you.

Shaking your head, you scowl. This is not the way your script is supposed to play out. You were too careless, let him see inside, but all he saw through the crack was a glimpse of the full thing and now him aimlessly searching with a pointless game of guessing is only making it worse, and you don’t know how longer you can go without bursting apart.

“I told you it’s fine,” you insist, eyes closed as you plop your head against your palm, resting your elbow on the hard surface of your kitchen table. Your voice is barely louder than a whisper, but the impact of your words still feel like arrows with a straight goal to Jeno’s poor heart.

Another sigh leaves the man. Reaching gently for your wrist, he tries to pry your hands away from your face, but you stay put as he asks you over and over again. “If you really want to have a smaller wedding, I’ll cut down the guests. I’ll do it for you, if you want me to,” he says, and you don’t know why him fully letting go of what he wants is what makes you break– maybe it’s the fact that now that the wedding won’t be exactly to the point like his ideal, leaving the whole thing a whole fraud, an act you’re playing just to satisfy him and the others– but you do, as you cut him off with another hesitant, yet firm sentence.

“Maybe we can lower the guests… to zero.”

A heartbeat passes, and then another one. You think he can’t quite grasp the full meaning of your words, and you’re right as he opens his mouth and inquires for an explanation, his heart hammering against his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we don’t need a wedding.”

His expression falls more, if that’s even possible, his eyes losing all their glint as he stares at you, dumbfounded. Snickering, he shakes his head. “You’re joking.”

Wetting your lips, averting your gaze from him and taking a glimpse outside of the window– the snow falling for the first time this winter making the whole situation even more idyllic, pushing you further with your final decision– you sigh and shrug, the argument already started and there’s no going back now, so you aren’t even scared of the idea of backing away anymore.

“I don’t want to get married.”

And in this moment, you almost feel like the clock got broken and the ticking stopped, or the world stopped spinning and the time halted in that exact second– either one of these, as your heart beats angrily against your ribcage, the sound of it in the veins of your ears making you drown out everything else. Lee Jeno is staring at you with eyes that slowly lose all their life, his expression growing more and more full of despair, and the image tears you apart, the little you inside wanting to break free at the sight of him completely crumbling under the impact of your words, and suddenly, you don’t know what to do as you stare him down and await his response. You don’t know how he’ll react. He could scream, he could shout– hell, he could even cry or leave you in silence, the closure never coming as you wait for him at that damned kitchen table forever. But Lee Jeno’s always been a man of words, and so, he doesn’t leave you hanging for long as he scoffs again, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re joking, right?”

But when the silence is his answer, he already knows he doesn’t have to keep asking.

“So you’ve just been… what? Leading me on for the last few months?” he asks, the bitterness falling off his tongue making your hands tremble, lips parting as you want to hurriedly assure him that your feelings were real, they were real until suddenly, they weren’t, and now you don’t even know where they stand and what to do with them and the confusion on your insides.

“This is unbelievable…” he says, running his hands through his hair as he stands up from the chair he’s been sitting on for the last few minutes, walking across and back through the kitchen a few times before he continues, “all those months… You’ve been just lying straight to my face? What did I even do? Why- why do you- why do you suddenly not want to-?” he rambles, and his voice slowly starts to break as you can’t seem to push any other answer out of yourself, all words stolen from your tongue as you stare at him, just waiting until the moment is over and you can let your body relax.

And it’s not his fault. It never was, but suddenly, you’re too weak to tell him, too selfish to give him the answers, too small to be the bigger person and tell him that it’s you, it’s always been you and none of this is a problem he’s created.

“Why did you say yes, then? If you never wanted to get married?” he asks, halting in his steps as he looks dead at you, waiting for your answer.

You should’ve never said yes to him. But you did. And why?

Because you were scared of this exact moment happening sooner? Maybe it would’ve hurt him less if you declined right when he asked. Maybe it could’ve been saved. But now, you’re sure you made more damage than can be fixed.

“Great. Don’t talk to me. Amazing,” he snickers, closing his eyes tightly as a stray tear comes down his cheek, the one you try hard to not notice in fear of breaking down as well, because truthfully–

now is not your time to feel bad or feel sorry. It’s not your time to cry and make it about yourself, because it’s you who messed up. It’s you who made all of this mess.

Looking at you again, and this time, it feels like the last, the question falling off his lips makes you completely shut down and build up walls around yourself, for the weight of the guilt is too heavy and you can’t seem to carry it well this time.

“Do you even love me anymore?” he asks.

Tears falling off your cheeks, your lips pressed into a thin line as you look somewhere into the unknown– anywhere but his eyes– you give him the silent answer again, and that’s enough for him to nod at you with a choked-out ‘okay’ before he disappears out of the door, the rambling through your closet being a background noise to your crying.

And relief doesn’t come even when the door shuts behind him and you don’t get up and try to stop him from leaving and the clock starts ticking in your ears again, grounding you back to reality; relief doesn’t come even when you let your sobs overtake you and your eyes tiredly fall from your coffee cup to the groceries left on the kitchen table.

Staring outside of your window, you can’t seem to find energy to even make any sound, your sore throat reminding you to take a step back and take care of yourself, just like you did mere seconds ago, finally breaking free.

On December 2nd, when the snow fell for the first time this year, you broke Lee Jeno’s heart, and you don’t think you’ll ever forgive yourself.

You decide a walk is surely gonna clear your head– at least that’s what you decide to think when you put on your winter shoes and get out of your small, silent apartment with a loud sigh, the meeting point of your errand today brightly lit in your mind as you leave the car in the parking lot and shudder in the cold.

The walk doesn’t clear your head, it makes you even more lost in your thoughts, it seems, but there’s no turning back when you’re already halfway there and you’re too lazy to get back and turn the engine of your little old car on, driving there instead. It seems like the consequences of your own actions leave you more miserable than content lately, and although you’re doing all of this for yourself, you feel like you’re unknowingly engaging in some sort of self-sabotage, and the fact that your body is frozen in the strong wind is only the tip of the iceberg of this topic.

After some time, you arrive, your nose runny from the condensation when you reach the heated interiors of the building, clearing your throat as you walk through the door of Mark Lee’s office, just like you would any other day, more often than not with your fiancé, sometimes alone. The man is currently waiting for you at his desk, his silly little journal open on the pages you know so well by now, the image hurting you to your core.

“Y/N!” he greets you, confusion mirroring on his face when he notices you being alone, since this meeting was scheduled precisely on Jeno’s day off, so both of you could attend, “why are you alone?”

Not giving him a reply, instead walking over to the chair and settling deeper into the cushion, preparing yourself to break the news to him, the curious nature of the man shines through as he asks you hushed questions, a tiny hint of bitterness in his voice unknown to you.

“Does he have work again? Did he cancel?” he asks, prepared to give out an over-exaggerated sigh if you tell him that he’s right about his assumptions, but when you just chew on your cheek and avert your gaze away from him, and instead look everywhere across the pearl white room, he senses that there’s something wrong.

“Yeah, about that…” you mumble, shrugging.

It’s now or never, you think to yourself– you went here for a reason unknown to you. Maybe you seeked comfort in the man that pushed you towards your decision, maybe you desire for someone to tell you that what you did was okay and the right thing to do. You could’ve just texted him you weren’t going to plan the wedding anymore, since there is none to happen, but you didn’t– you went here yourself, just to break the news to him face to face, expecting nothing and everything at once. It’s weird. Maybe you just, true to your fragile nature, need someone to look out for you when you feel so insanely guilty for doing something for yourself. Why that person is Mark Lee, you don’t know. Perhaps there is something that is pulling you to him, the comforting nature surrounding him being your safe haven in a time like this, making you so selfishly wish that after hearing you say it, he won’t let you down and look at you with defeat and disappointment.

“I- I called off the wedding,” you say, finally meeting his chocolate orbs with expectations, “and we sorta broke up, so I just- I just wanted to tell you that I won’t need your service anymore, but that I’m really thankful,” you add, nodding to prove your point.

The man in front of you is left startled, eyes wide as he searches for a hint of something– anything– on your face that would tell him if you’re okay and what led you to the decision, opening his mouth to talk to you about it, when you cut him off and add another thing, a sentence that breaks him and glues him together in one swift motion, leaving him speechless.

“Thank you for telling me that it was okay… to do that. And that it wasn’t late to call it off. It means the whole entire world to me, Mark, and I’ll never forget that,” you say, smiling hesitantly at the wedding planner, playing with your fingers in your lap, “I felt like I couldn’t make this decision, even though the idea of getting married to Jeno was breaking me, but your words really assured me.”

“That’s-” he stutters, clearly shocked. It’s not like he didn’t know– once again, he advised you to do so himself– but still, the reality of it is making him bewildered, true surprise raining over his face as he shakes his head to clear it, providing you with a more coherent response, “I’m- I’m glad you were able to do that. It’s- it’s so great you broke away from something you didn’t want for yourself, Y/N.”

Smiling, although a little shamefully, you avert your gaze from his intense eyes. “Thank you.”

“No, no, don’t thank me, I mean-” he rambles, his professional composure breaking for what feels like the first time, his figure looking so approachable right in this moment, “are you okay, though? It must have been hard.”

Shrugging, you wet your lips in a moment of thought. Are you okay? You’re not so sure. So instead of worrying him, you just mumble: “I will be,” with a soft nod, reassuring both yourself and everyone involved. Because, in reality, even though it’s insanely hard and the moments without your fiancé feel foreign, you feel free. You feel true to yourself, and that’s the most important thing about it all. And as long as that is preserved, you will be okay one day.

Maybe your and Jeno’s ways parted just because your ideals were different. Maybe the difference between the two was so big you couldn’t get over the height; but that’s okay. Life happened this way, and there’s not much to do about it now. Only to get used to it.

“Okay,” he says, gazing at you.

You’d like to stay longer– the truth is, this is the first time in the last few weeks that you’ve felt relaxed, content, even– and it’s hard to let go of this feeling. Mark looks at you with soft eyes, as if he was scared that a more strong look may break you, and in a moment of selfishness, you think that although this chapter of your life is over, Mark is the one you don’t want to lose out of it. You wonder if he feels the same. You want him to feel the same.

But once the moment is over and you realize your stay no longer has a meaning to it, probably just wasting Mark’s time, you nod to yourself as you stand up from your place in the chair, paying goodbye to the place you’re most likely never going to visit again. “I’ll get going, then. Once again, thanks… for everything, Mark.”

The man shoots to his feet, hesitantly walking over to you, meeting your expecting eyes. Clearing his throat, he reaches to you with wide arms, and your body moves into his hold almost automatically, selfishness hoarding over you once again as he hugs you tight into his body, perhaps with the same amount of bittersweet feeling you feel on the inside right now, the firm grip around your waist making you relax into his touch. Burrowing your nose into his neck, you forget all about Jeno for a while, the scent of Mark’s cologne overtaking your senses, everything, past and future involved, disappearing when the noisy thought in your brain keeps rambling how you need to remember the way his arms feel around your body forever, you have to imprint his scent into your brain until the end of your time, because this is your last opportunity you have to experience it.

“I’m very proud of you,” he mumbles, one of his hands running over your back and up into your hair, a protective head pat mendling your fragile, broken body into his touch.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, though,” he says.

“It doesn’t- it doesn’t feel appropriate.”

And Mark understands. It feels like he’s the only one that does. And although it may feel like there’s no one but him in this world that’s on your side right now, the reality of it comforts you, because that’s enough.

Breaking away from his hold, you pay him a goodbye as you walk towards the door, not turning around as you escape the room, because you think the image of him, knowing it’s the last time you’ll see him, would break you perhaps the most.

Your journey isn’t over, though. Walking through the countless labyrinths of the town, the weather outside making your bones cold as you stride for your next destination with utter determination, you know that once you complete this task, it’s finally over. The weight of it crushes you, but you know that in a few, you’ll feel completely free, and that’s why you keep going, despite it being insanely hard.

Your eyes are met with the view of a house you know too well; the windowsills greet you with a glassy shine, the sad trees in the backyard reminding you of your university days. You’re met with Lee Jeno’s childhood home, and by the looks of his car in the driveway, you were correct about the suspicions of his whereabouts. He had nowhere else to go, after all, and although you feel a little shameful about the fact, you don’t let it get to you.

Walking over to the small gate of the land of Jeno’s parents’ house, a red post box greets you, your final destination in reach. Rummaging through your purse, you take out a white envelope containing your engagement ring, and while opening the small box, you pay goodbye to the latest chapter of your life, putting the envelope in.

Taking one last look at the house, you imagine Jeno on the driveway, and you wave at his figure with an apology on your tongue.

Maybe one day, he’ll understand you. And maybe he won’t.

You can’t be mad at him for the emotions he has every right to feel. You acknowledge that you were wrong for leading him on for so long. But still, you hope that one day, he’ll be able to forgive you.

And as if your fate wanted you to have the last bit of karma you’ve earned, it starts raining as you walk home. On any other day, you’d despite the shower, but today, you think you can get through it. You think this is your prize, and you’ll keep paying it forever, until you no longer feel the guilt of everything you’ve done.

Putting yourself first breaks hearts sometimes. But still, you think it’s worth it in the end.

Maybe one day, you’ll forgive yourself.

When your body hits the cold sheets of the bed that isn’t yours, stumbling to your designated side of the mattress, it seems, you wonder if the heater in his apartment broke again and you’re going to spend another night shivering until the tiredness doesn’t make your thoughts turn off and your eyelids get heavy with sleep. Dressed in your usual pajamas and staring out of the window, watching the stars shyly glimmer, the moon kisses your cheeks in a solemn feeling of a weird nostalgia you can’t seem to shake off no matter how hard you try. The feeling, however, is no longer as uncomfy as it was the last time. It used to make your bones itch, it used to make you try to battle the feeling, even though there was no use– it’s always been too strong and you were too weak; too tired to keep fighting.

A huff lands into your ear, a muffled sigh that makes you slightly open your eyes and still in your movements. He joined the bed just a few minutes prior to you, telling you he’ll wait for you to be done with your shower, but it seems like he fell asleep in the short time period, making you feel momentarily bad for waking him.

A strong arm slings itself over your middle, engulfing you in a tight back-hug. His body grows closer to you, shuffling himself to stick himself as close to your body as possible, a heavy breath reaches your ear. Your hand automatically reaches for his one laying on your stomach, looking over at him to see his eyes flutter open and a soft smile glazing his features. “Ready for sleep?” he asks, and with a gentle nod, you watch him get more comfy in the sheets of his bed.

Continuing to watch him, his eyes close on themselves after a short while, his eyelashes kiss his cheekbones, sharp edges of his face contrasting with his overall soft demeanor making your heart swell with the thankfulness you feel because of his proximity.

Looking back over to the window, eyes briefly catching the time glimmering on the alarm clock sitting on his bedside table, you bite down on your lips and try to battle the smile that’s dangerously trying to spread across your face. His body pressing itself into your back is warm, trying hard to provide you with a sense of home and safety. This time around, it works. It always works out with him.

A sigh cuts out of your throat.

“Everything okay?” he asks, and it makes you snicker. You’ve never felt more content and satisfied in your whole entire life, yet, he dares to ask you this question, still uncertain. Nodding, you reply to him, sureness coating your words.

“More than okay.”

Your body slowly heats up in his hold– he’s like your portable heater, after all, since he likes his bedroom to be a little colder than you prefer, he took it upon himself to always have you glued inside of his arms whenever you sleep over at his place; to not let you catch cold, he says, but you secretly just think he loves to fall asleep with you in his hold.

Just a little over a year ago, with a different man in your sheets, you weren’t able to fall asleep with the weight of your overthinking. You rethought your decision over and over again, not ready to leave yourself to get a final conclusion, even though it was always somewhere there, in the back of your brain.

Now, though, your brain is at ease, relaxing after running laps through various scenarios in your brain– your body is soundly tucked in under the soft sheets of the bed, finding a sweet haven in a person you never imagined you’d let into your life.

You no longer wake up in guilt and fear. You no longer startle awake at night, too scared to look at your fiancé on the other side of your bed; because the chapter is now behind you, the war is over.

And you learn to forgive yourself. All by Mark’s side.

If it wasn’t for the actions of your past, you would’ve never met him, after all. Everything in your life has some sort of order, and while it wasn’t a happy journey, at least you’re left with nothing but experience and comfort in your heart.

Almost like every day, much to the contrast of your state a little over a year ago, you reach out for Mark’s hand again, pressing a soft kiss to it as you move it closer to your lips. Almost like every day, while you fall asleep to the scent of his shower gel and the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you to sweet dreams, you’re thankful for every day with him,

because he was the one that brought you peace again, taking care of you each and every day, carefully catching your heart when you let it fall freely into the unknown.

685 notes · View notes

dropitlikeapeong · 2 months ago

Text

Waiting for You: Chapter 4- It's really over, isn't it?

Genre: EVEN MORE angst (atp we should be used to it)

CW: Mentions of cheating. More arguing. More swearing. More crying. Seeun is an asshole (Im sorry to my serangdoongies). Y/n is mad as hell for a minute (AS THEY SHOULD BE). Implied sexual relations (nothing explicit, literally the words "spent a night together") Seeun hurts Y/n (gripping your wrist tightly). Let me know if there's more that I'm leaving out.

A/n: FINALLY AN UPDATE WE ALL CHEERED! I'd like to apologize again for keeping you all waiting for this long but yay chapter 4 is finally here, and chapter 5 is not too far behind.

I apologize in advance, to all my Seeun stans, this one's gonna hurt.

As always, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. Enjoy!

From coming in late to work, upsetting your co-workers and friends, catching a nasty and uncalled for attitude from your ex, accidentally landing one of the boys in the hospital causing him to miss an important schedule, finding out said ex has likely been playing you throughout your whole relationship with another celebrity, also finding out there might be a little more that story since your boss seems to know a lot more than he's letting on and being forced to go to therapy or else you'd lose your job and get sued, safe to say today had been exhausting.

You felt physically and emotionally drained and really just needed to sleep off the events of today. Fortunately you don't have work tomorrow, or any day after that unless you see that stupid therapist.

You definitely felt horrible about what happened with Hunter but therapy? Seriously? But if that's what is needed for you to keep your job, so be it. You wonder if you'd be allowed to visit him, to maybe apologize in person. Hunter always goes on about how you're his favorite out of all their staff, He'd understand you didn't mean for that to happen right?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the elevator beeping, letting you know you've reached your floor. The doors open and you let out an irritated sigh at the unexpected guest standing at your doorstep.

Technically, it isn't unexpected, you were warned that someone would be picking up your ex's things, although he never mentioned who would be doing the pick up. Considering all of the people he could've called, this was just ridiculous.

"Why are you here?"

Seeun jumps a little at your voice turning to face you.

"Don't scare me like that! Gosh, you almost gave me a heart attack."

You continue staring at him blankly while he avoids your eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Why are you here?" You ask him again.

"You sound like a tape recorder. 'Why are you here' haha, I'm sightseeing, obviously." His laugh is uncomfortable and awkward.

"This is a really nice apartment complex." He remarks, looking around the empty hallway. "I might just move in here someday." Another awkward laugh follows. Then silence.

One thing you know about your ex, is that he is either really horrible at reading the room, joking around when it was time to be serious, or he's really good at playing dumb when he knows he has fucked up. But with the day you've had today, you couldn't care less about which of those he was doing.

"It's very quiet this side of town isn't it?"

"Seeun go home."

You go to unlock your door and he moves out of your way.

"I came to get my things." he mutters, you roll eyes barely sparing him a glance.

"Maybe lead with that? I'm not in the mood for any shit right now." You open your door stepping inside leaving it open for him. He just stands at your doorway, a small pout on his face.

"You won't invite me in?" He laughs giving you a lopsided smile.

A smile that would've had you weak in the knees back then. A smile you would usually return with one of your own. Maybe a little giggle, because it would instantly cause him to start giggling too. A smile you loved seeing at times like these, where you felt like your world was crumbling, as it always made you feel so much better.

A smile that now causes your eyes to start brimming with tears. A smile that makes you feel like your throat is closing up, and causes bile to rise up from your stomach.

A smile that now repulses you.

He shifts uncomfortably at your glare. "Tough crowd I guess." he mumbles stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

"So... Can I start in the bedroom? You took a LOT of my hoodies-"

"Take what you're here for and leave, Seeun."

He huffs at your cold response.

"I'm not here to fight with you, Y/n. There's no need for all of this."

"There wasn't any need for you to be a dick towards me all day, yet that still happened."

"Oh come on, you're still mad about that?" He scoffs.

"You can't keep taking everything so personally Y/n."

He sighs shaking his head.

"Look, I have things to do-"

"-Like Areum?" You cut him off and he freezes at that. You feel his eyes on your back.

He knows that you know. Did he seriously expect you not to find out after both his and her company released public statements? it's quite literally the only thing k-netizens are talking about right now.

Though xikers may not be a really big name in Korea, Areum on the other hand is practically the nation's princess, one of YG Entertainment's top models with an impressive reputation, and several brand ambassadorships under her belt. Already having garnered a large fan base after only one year since her modeling debut, the news of her having a boyfriend would most definitely have her fans going crazy.

You could've liked Areum too at some point. She seemed to be a sweet girl. She was always lovely towards her fans and her staff. Very polite and respectful in front of the cameras. You do not doubt that she was likely even sweeter behind the scenes as well.

Unfortunately, the chance that her and Seeun have likely been seeing each other since your relationship with Seeun started, leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

He clears his throat harshly, an attempt to compose himself.

It seems you've caught him off guard.

"That's none of your business."

Now it's your turn to scoff. He has some nerve. You turn to face him and he has the audacity to look mad at you. As if this was your fault.

"Congrats on that by the way. Although I would've appreciated a little heads up that you've been two-timeing me our whole relationship."

His eyes widen in shock. He opens his mouth to speak but immediately closes it again, his facial expression neutral.

"It wasn't like that." You scoff at his words.

"Could've fooled me."

"Y/n don't." He grits out, avoiding your eyes.

"I really was just a joke to you, wasn't I?"

"For fucks sake it wasn't like that!" His loud voice causes you to flinch.

Throughout your relationship he has never raised his voice at you. Sure he was loud and yelled often, within your vicinity. But he has never yelled at you. He loved you too much for that. Perhaps he still does with how he instantly looks regretful at what he just did.

"Then what was it like Seeun? What you're telling me and the way you're treating doesn't match up. So what am I supposed to believe?"

"It-I-" He exhales deeply hands over his face, clearly at a loss for words. Or at a loss in general.

In this moment he no longer looks at you with a snarky glare, or a cruel smirk. He just looks lost. He looks like the boy you fell in love with again.

It reminds you of the conversation you had with the CEO.

Something about an arrangement.

You take a step closer to him.

"Seeun?" he looks up at you, a nervous look on his face. Like he's scared of something.

That gives you a small glimmer of hope. That this was all that it was, an arrangement for publicity's sake.

But why couldn't he just tell you that? Was a breakup necessary?

"Seeun, what is going on?" You slowly take another step closer, and hold his hand. He lets you.

"Please, just talk to me. What is this arrangement Mr. Kim mentioned?" He looks startled by your question but doesn't pull his hand away.

"It's about you and Areum right?" He doesn't answer you, nor does he pull away from you.

Instead, he pulls your hand towards his lips and plants a small peck on your fingers, mumbling something inaudible.

"What?" He finally looks into your eyes, with a blank expression.

"I liked the date." You stare at him, utterly confused.

"...What?" He gives you a small smile.

"March 22nd. It's a nice date. It's cute... And very believable considering we were at the same event together around that time."

"Seeun that's- no but it-I-" You feel overwhelmed, a bad feeling creeping into the pit of your stomach. They couldn't have picked a different date? One that wasn't yours and his' anniversary?

"Seeun that's ours. It's our date, That's when we started dating, not-"

"I need you to know-" he cuts you off gripping your hand a little tighter, "-after I left last night, I went to Areum's place."

Your feel your heart sink at that.

"We spent the night together and... we're dating now."

You feel nauseated, his tight hold on your hand is now uncomfortable. Why hasn't he let go yet? You try to pull away from him but he only holds on tighter.

"I need you to understand something, Y/n." His grip on your hand, is now painful. He pushes your chin up with a finger, making you look into his eyes.

"What I had with you, is nothing compared to what I have with Areum."

Your eyes are already brimming with tears. You try to move out of his hold but he only pulls you back. A cruel grin on his face.

"You want a reason for why we broke up? Here it is; I don't love you."

The tears slowly roll down your face. He sees them, and laughs.

"Cry all you want, I'm only telling you the truth."

His tone is mocking as you stare up him, with teary eyes and a trembling lip.

You should've never let him in. You should've never allowed him into your home. You should've told him to leave, fetch his things when you weren't at home. You shouldn't have said yes to dating him. You shouldn't have let him into your heart.

"My arrangement with Areum, has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it." He finally let's you go, yanking his hand away from yours, as if he's disgusted by your touch. Your hand now stings from how tight he held it.

"Get that into your head, and never forget it; I do not love you. You're nothing to me."

He leaves you in the living room, heading off to your bedroom to collect his belongings.

"One more thing," It seems he still wants to rub some salt in the wound.

"I don't appreciate you or anyone referring to my relationship with Areum as an 'arrangement'. I don't care who you heard it from, don't ever disrespect my girlfriend like that again."

He heads off into your room closing the door behind him.

You collapse onto your couch and finally break down, heavy sobs escaping you.

You really wish you had just told him to leave...

#xikers #xikers x reader #xikers imagines #xikers fanfic #xikers angst #xikers fanfiction #xikers fluff #seeun #park seeun #seeun angst #dropitlikeapeong: waiting for you

18 notes · View notes

httpknjoon · 2 years ago

Text

(re)starting over again | kth; 7

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 2.2k+

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | drunk mc

note | it's been so long! i apologize for the long delay. i missed writing for this series. this is a bit shorter but I'm trying to get back on pace with mc and tae. more drama soon. thank you so much for waiting! let me know your thoughts. enjoy reading!

main masterlist | series masterlist

“Hellooo, looove!”

You shuffled out from the hold of your friend and tried to walk towards Taehyung. But midway through the short distance, you almost fell and he immediately ran to catch you in his arms. Since you were too out from everything, he just swept you off your feet and carried you in a bridal style. You giggled.

“Haha! you smell good.” your voice was muffled as you buried your face in his shirt.

Taehyung, who was still a little surprised with seeing you like this, looked at the two ladies you were with. He could feel their eyes scanning him up and down as he stood there. While the other raised an eyebrow, one of them finally uttered,

“So, I assume you’re Taehyung?”

He nods, trying to ignore the stare he is getting from the others, “Uh, yeah… thank you for taking her here.”

“No problem. I’m Yoonji, by the way.” she smiled and noticed Taehyung’s discomfort. She looked at the girl who helped you a while ago. Like she was telling her to stop through her eyes. Then, Yoonji turned back to him, “Don’t mind her. It’s just that YN cannot stop talking about you ever since the alcohol got into her head. Everything we do, she brought you up.”

“Heck. She’s like my boyfriend is… blah, blah, blah. And when some guy tried to buy her a drink, she just didn’t stop talking about you to him. It’s funny.” the other girly finally spoke.

Taehyung looked down at you, who was falling asleep, in his arms. He squeezed his eyes close as he felt guilt creeping up his body. He can hear both Lily and Jimin telling him that he should have told you about his plans. His thoughts broke off when someone from the van honked. He looked up and saw Yoonji nodding her head to whoever was in the van.

“Well, we should go now. We still have more ladies to take back to their homes.” she joked.

“Ah, yes.” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, seeing someone from the van signaling them to go. “Thank you again.”

The ladies smiled and walked away while Tae carried you inside, pushing and closing the door with his foot. He heard you hum when the door accidentally banged loudly. You slowly opened your eyes. Your voice was raspy as you called for him,

“Love?”

It’s the first time he heard you call him that. He never had someone call him with that term of endearment and didn't really mind it much. But he cannot help but feel his heart soften with the word.

You repeated, “Love? Tae?”

From your point of view, you can only see Taehyung. The ceiling and lights around him were all blurry and hazy, highlighting the face you’ve loved ever since you met him. You smiled just by seeing him.

“Hmm?” He just hummed in response, knowing that you probably won’t remember tomorrow that you called him that. He was opening your bedroom door when you spoke again, “Why are you carrying me?”

“Because you almost fell on our doorstep because you have too much to drink–” Taehyung paused when he entered your room and turned the lights on.

The first thing he saw was the framed picture next to your bed. It was like his eyes automatically set on it. He can see himself smiling in the picture as he looks at you who was smiling at the camera. It was seemingly taken at an outdoor place. Presumably beach. You wore a yellow printed dress with bright red hibiscus tucking your hair behind your ear. Admittedly, it seemed like something he would do. The word, third, was written below the right corner of it.

“No, I didn’t!” you exclaimed, taking his attention away from the photo. “I’m not drunk, love.”

A soft smile formed on his lips as he put you down on your bed, “Of course, you’re not.”

Lines were between your eyebrows as you squinted your eyes at him. Then, you sat, saying, “You don’t believe me.”

And before Taehyung can even reply to that, you spoke again, “I’m thirsty.”

He nods, “Okay, wait here.”

This is not the first time he take care of a drunk person. He remembered looking out for Jimin once when they were younger. He remembered picking up Lily at party months into their relationship too because she was drunk-dialing him nonstop at one in the morning.

Taehyung was about to go left when you whined,

“I’m coming with you!”

You stood up so quickly that you struggle to balance yourself. Everything around you is spinning. And based on the look on your face, Taehyung can tell what’s coming next. He rushed you to your bathroom and as soon as you take sight of the toilet, you fell to your knees and just let yourself throw up in it. He immediately helped to gently hold and remove your hair away from it.

“Fuck.” you cursed in between.

And later on, Taehyung was helping you to go back to your bed even though you claimed: “I can walk, love! I am fine. My feet are okay–” you were cut off before you even finish that sentence as you ran back to run back to the toilet again.

“I want to sit here. I hate the bed, it’s too soft.” you just sat on your carpeted floor when he walked you to your bed.

“Okay, let’s sit here.” he followed, flopping on the ground in front of you.

Due to your heaving, your eyes were damp from the tears. Your makeup turned into a mess, although he was sure you looked amazing before. The glitters and dark mascara were everywhere around your eyes. Suddenly, he remembered to ask:

“Do you have any makeup remover?”

You lazily nod, “Mhm, I do. On my vanity table.”

“Okay, let me get that. Wait here, YN.”

“I’m not going anywhere, love.” you giggled drunkenly, resting your head back on the mattress.

Taehyung smiled, shaking his head, before getting up. Your table was organized enough for him to easily get what he knows he needs to at least clean off the makeup. He knew about this through Lily. Since she was a model, she often work with cosmetics. She asked him to buy some stuff for her when she was busy. Makeup wipes were one of them.

“Come here,” Taehyung whispered as he sat back.

You pulled your head back up from the comfortable mattress and looked at him. Taehyung put on a headband on you to again, move your hair away from your face. And when he was softly pushing it back your forehead, you murmured,

“I miss you, love.”

Taehyung didn’t catch it clearly and paused, “What?”

“Your hands. They’re soft.” you babbled. “I like them.”

“Well, thank you, YN.”

He began, opening the wipes. To keep your head up, he gently held your chin while wiping off the makeup.

“It’s refreshing. I love makeup wipes.” you babbled with your eyes closed.

He bit his lower lip to stop himself from giggling at your cute ramblings. After a few more wipes, you began telling more stories.

“I wish you came with us,” you told him as he threw the used wipes in the small trash can in the corner of your room.

“YN–”

“Love. Call me love. You’ve been calling me by my name. Are you mad at me? I told you I’m not drunk.” you loosed your arms over your chest.

“YN is your name.” he reasoned.

“And I’m your fucking girlfriend.” you tried to look mad but ended up looking adorable with your pout and whiny tone.

Not wanting to cause any more issues, he sighed.

“Love…” he called you, checking if you had issues with it. It was a little strange for him to call you that but at the same time, it rolls off nicely from his tongue. He continued, “It was a bachelorette party. Of course, I cannot go with you.”

“Yeah, but I still wished you were with me. There were guys at the bar who was just too stubborn...” your voice trailed off.

Taehyung, who sat back, paused and glanced at you. The idea of somebody bothering you during what was supposed to be a great night quickly pissed him off.

“Why? Did they do something?” he asked, trying to remain calm.

But you shook your head while removing your shoes, “Nothing. Some guys asked for my number and even tried to buy me a drink. But I told them for like twenty times that I have a boyfriend.”

“Good.”

“I hate this,”

Abruptly, your fingers reached for the top button of your blazer dress. Taehyung’s eyes widened, and he stopped you by caging your hands, which are struggling to unbutton, in his.

“What are you doing?!”

“I hate this. It’s hot!” you complained, starting to feel irritated.

Panic strikes quickly, and he held your hands, “Okay, okay, love. You can go change but I’ll go outside. I’ll go get you something to drink, okay? Can you do that on your own?”

You frowned, “You’re not staying here?”

“I can’t– I mean, no.”

“Okay,” you said, still frowning.

Taehyung nods as he sighed, “Okay.”

He got up and helped you stand on your own too. He walked out of your room after he made sure you can do things on your own. As soon as he closed your door, he found himself in the small hallway between your room. Once again, he exhaled, hands on his hips, eyes staring into space. He was supposed to tell you about Lily tonight but with your state right now and possible hangover tomorrow, he knew that his plan would have to be postponed.

“Here.”

You stopped wiggling in your seat when Taehyung placed a bottle of water on the countertop. He had already opened it for you. It’s only been a couple of minutes since you changed your clothes and go to the kitchen, where your boyfriend is. And when you surprised him with your entrance, he quickly took notice of the shirt you were wearing. He didn’t bother asking you about it, but he knew, it was his.

You felt the relief in your dry throat when you drank almost the bottle.

“Love, I want to eat,” you told him.

“I can go make–”

“What’s that?”

Your index finger pointed to the box on the kitchen island and Taehyung traced what you were pointing at with his eyes. It was the cheesecake he brought home earlier.

“Oh, it’s something I made earlier in the shop. Cheesecake,” he replied.

“I like that! Gimme a slice!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands.

Taehyung grinned, “You might find it too sweet.”

“Definitely not, love. I always love your cheesecakes. You know that.” you giggled and the grin on his face slowly fades.

He wished he did knew about that. He mainly prepared this dessert for someone else, who he never talked with you about. He doesn’t even know if you know about Lily. He hates that he’s starting to realize a lot of things he didn’t know about you.

You let out a satisfied hum when you got the first taste of the cake. Your lips formed into a smile as you rested your chin on your hand.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Amazing as always.”

You take another sliver while staring at him like he was a dream. You looked at him so intently that Taehyung began wondering if there was something on his face. But then, he remembered you’re drunk. There was only silence the whole time he watched you enjoy the small slice of cheesecake. He didn’t ask you any more questions or start any conversation since he, himself, is tired since it was already almost three.

“I love your face,” you said it so casually and it made him scoff.

He has been getting several compliments from you just tonight. It’s probably just because you are drunk, and loves to ramble about everything you see. But then, your eyes became glossier as you rested your head on your palm on the countertop.

“I love your eyes. Most especially, your lips. I love everything about you so much. I love that you have that voice because it really calms me down after my shift. And I’m so happy I always get to see you after a long day at the hospital–” you huffed with tears already slipping from your eyes. “I just love you so much and you make the best cheesecake ever– also, banana bread.”

The last line made him chuckle. Yes, you are drunk and maybe dramatic. But, he can feel the sincerity of your words. No one has ever made such a confession for him. A pang hit his heart. All he can feel now is the heaving feeling in his chest. It must have been hard to be in your place with everything that happened. You have been nothing but nice and caring towards him the whole time. Even though he doesn’t remember anything about you.

He reached for your cheek and wiped off the tears with his thumb. You visibly relaxed from his touch. Like a puppy, you leaned into his warm palm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, so low that it was almost inaudible.

You probably didn’t hear it since you didn’t react. You just glanced at him with a soft smile and droopy eyelids. Instead, you said:

“I want to sleep.”

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST @halesandy @boohoobabe @hopeonysus @taffyteffy @jkismyasmr @pnlpbnl @arusio @rpkth @cinnamonruts @xyahrinx @betysotelo18 @sugaslittlekookies @doublebunv @dahliasbouqet @lust-kth @aria-grace-scott @milkteallday @hoodalmighty @kiwuki @http-fayeradise @daydreamiies @starlight-night0 @chaoticbisous @mageprincess7 @byunniebaekhyunnie @hiimnothing @koreanaestheticc @shin-ie @blancflms @jeonkoookiee @satorinnie @rjsmochii @yoonglesdoll @somewhereinthestarss @turnthepageandbeburnt @heyjiminnie @bri-mal @teddybeartaetae @cinnamonruts @kaal-ee @vanntaesworld @nikkiordonez12 @butterflieshee @iamkookiesforyou

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie

#bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts series #bts imagine #bts au #bts amnesia #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung au #taehyung amnesia #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #restarting over again kth

225 notes · View notes

itonashi · 2 years ago

Text

LOVING YOU WAS NEVER A MISTAKE

pairing: chigiri hyoma x fem!reader

genre: fluff, a little angst (i guess).

warning: manga spoilers! , grammars and lastly english isn't my first language.

note: used to write fanfics back in 2021. it was black clover haha. i was already on tumblr that time. i think i didn't really improved that much. idk tho. lowercase intended.

"i have always loved your hair, hyoma."

"is that so?" his grip on the water bottle tightens. he never thought he would meet you again after the u-20 match. he thought his 2 weeks break will be great. he had only finish his hangout with his blue lock friends.

you're still pretty even after a long time. your medium length hair now becoming a long length. your beautiful eyes and supple skin. how he wished to kiss you.

"i'm sorry for that time. i didn't mean to moved school without you knowing. please forgive me, hyoma. i missed you."

"why are you apologizing? i was the one who cut off contact with you. [name], never once have you made a mistake to me. i was the one frustrated because of my injuries that time. i thought you left me but i was the one who misunderstood the situation."

why were you even apologizing? why didn't you just left him like the others did to him. he was the one who shut you off first but yet here you are; talking to him first, apologizing to him first. you're just too kind for him.

you looked at him with sincere eyes. you really wanted to apologized to him. beg him to forgive you. on that day, the day he suddenly blocked you. you thought you did something wrong. you wanted to text him on other social platforms that you could but he blocked you on all of it. you were disheartened.

this time, you would not let chigiri hyoma go for the second time. you would hold him tight. tighter than before.

"can i hug you?" he asked you. he wanted to hold you. the time you were best friend, you were never touchy with him and he appreciates that. he appreciates how you respected boundaries. this is the first time he will ask you this.

"eh?"

you couldn't keep a straight face when he asked you that. chigiri hyoma asking you? to hug? him? the cold guy you befriended in school? you saw a blush forming on his ears, cherry red. you felt like you were going to burst because you still liked him. no, loved him.

without answering him, you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer to hug him. he was shocked that you were the one who initiated the action first. he hugged you back.

"sorry." he mumbled.

"it's okay now, hyoma."

the both of you pulled back from the hug. he saw your red face. she's blushing, he thought. you were just so cute. he couldn't resist you. maybe just maybe the two of you could hang out tomorrow.

"can i have your contact number back?"

"of course!"

ah, your bright personality. how could he forgot? you were so bright. that's the kind of person you are. but, you're now so elegant. the kind nature you hold. how lucky is he? having you by his side now.

he didn't mind riding the train with you. if it means spending time with you today? he would do anything. walking side by side. accompany you to your house. he loved you.

and you loved him too. of course, the two of you didn't confess to each other yet. soon enough, it will happened. you knew yourself that you would be the one to confess to him first. before all the moving school happened, you have always been the person to teased him in school because that's the person you are. saying everything that would make him blush.

you just loved his reactions.

"chigiri, did you know?"

"what is it, [name]?" he was packing his bag after a practice and you were there watching him. accompanied by something to do, he doesn't noticed your face smiling mischievously.

"you're very pretty, chigiri. much more prettier than me." he malfunctioned when you said that. he was used to hearing that by other people but hearing it from you? it was rare. you never told it to his face directly at all. it was the first time.

"stop."

"yeah yeah."

remembering the memories of you teasing him, you giggled quietly. he raised an eyebrow at the sudden giggling. he never know what's on your mind 24/7. he want to know.

loving you was never a mistake for him.

you can always guess what's on his mind. he was too easy to read or maybe you're just good at reading people? but the new him. it was hard for you to know.

but even though this is the new him.

loving him was never a mistake for you.

notes: hope you all loved it. tbh.. this is making me blush ngl. haha. enjoy!! first oneshot fanfics works on tumblr lol. the wordcount? idk ...

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #chigiri hyoma #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri fluff #blue lock fandom #itomlist!!✧#itoworks!!✧#blue lock x you

266 notes · View notes

abiiors · 2 years ago

Note

heyy! not to flood ur requests again and rlly no pressure abt writing something if u don't feel like it (i feel so bad abt sending requests cause i feel like it pressures ppl and i dunno haha)

anyways i had this idea of the reader being an actress and matty visiting her on set and getting kinda jealous of her w her co-star (sucker for angst here sorry!)

Hey :)

I feel like I know who this anon is just based on the way this request is worded but do not worry, I will not out you, haha. Can you tell who the co-star is based on lmao?

Pls don’t ever feel bad about sending requests! I love them and they give me so much motivation to write. Anyway, I hope you have fun reading this! ❤️🍒💞

Matty x female reader

Jealous Boyfriend

‘And cut!’ the director yells from her chair and the crew bursts into loud claps and cheers.

Your co-star, Hal, looks at you, his lips swollen and his wavy hair mussed in a suggestive way, and his face splits into a huge grin.

‘You were amazing!’ he gushes.

You clutch the bedsheet around you tighter as you smile back at him. It doesn’t take your assistant long before she runs to you with a robe.

Hal averts his eyes respectfully and waits for you to cover up.

‘So were you!’ you reply with equal enthusiasm once you’re done. You talk to multiple crew members as you make your way to get dressed and tell them that you’ll see them tomorrow.

The shoot has finally wrapped for the day (earlier than expected) and you’re excited to just spend a quiet night with Matty.

‘So what’s your plan for the night?’ Hal catches up to you once you’re on your way to find your boyfriend.

‘Oh hey,’ you smile, ‘my boyfriend’s on the set today so I’m just going home with him.’

‘It’s Matty Healy, right?’ he genuinely sounds excited and you nod back at him.

‘Yea, he’s—’

‘Hey, love,’ Matty pulls you in for a kiss and you’re cut off from saying whatever you were about to.

‘I was just telling Hal about you,’ you smile and turn to introduce him to your co-star.

‘Hey, man,’ Hal smiles, ‘I love your music!’ He extends a hand for a handshake.

‘Thanks,’ Matty responds curtly and to your utter horror, doesn’t even bother to shake Hal’s hand. Then he turns to you as if Hal weren’t even there.

‘Should we go?’

‘Um, sure,’ you mumble, still confused by his reaction. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ you tell Hal and wish him a good night.

When he tries to go in for a hug, Matty pulls you into his side possessively. You awkwardly raise your hand in a wave and try to telepathically convey an apology to your co-star.

‘What the fuck was that?’ you ask as soon as Hal’s out of earshot.

‘What was what?’ he asks innocently.

‘You, acting like a complete ass!’ you fold your arms over your chest and look at him impatiently.

‘Really?’ he asks incredulously, ‘you’re mad at me for not being best friends with the guy?’

‘Don’t twist my words,’ you warn.

‘Well sorry for not being all chummy with the guy who had his tongue shoved down your throat!’

So that’s what this is about… In the past, you’ve teased him about being jealous but him being a jealous boyfriend is where you draw the line.

‘It’s my job!’

‘Sorry for not loving it when I have to see my girlfriend making out with other people,’ he sasses back.

‘And you kiss fans on stage,’ you point out.

‘That’s different!’

‘How is that different?’ You try not to shout at him but this has been a long day and now he’s making it even more frustrating.

‘I am not naked and moaning when I kiss them,’ he throws his hands in the air, rolls his eyes as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

‘And I’m not actually having sex with him!’ you defend. ‘It’s my character Sarah having sex with Hal’s character Cam! Why is that so hard to understand?’

‘Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,’ he argues.

‘Well, you’re acting like a child!’ you argue back.

You can feel the headache forming as you hold back the urge to yell and try to swallow your anger. It takes you another two seconds to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

‘Hal’s my friend and this is my job,’ you explain calmly but he’s dead set on being an asshole.

He scoffs and shakes his head.

‘Your friend,’ he laughs bitterly, ‘that’s how it always starts.’

It makes you stop dead in your tracks.

That’s how it always starts…

‘What?’ you ask softly, give him one more chance to take it back.

‘You heard me,’ he mutters petulantly.

Does he not understand what he’s trying to imply? The pit in your stomach grows bigger as your restraint on your anger finally snaps. If he’s intent on being difficult then you can give him a taste of his own medicine.

‘Well, fuck you, Matty,’ you spit, ‘don’t bother coming after me, I’m getting a hotel room.’

He opens his mouth to protest but you have no patience for him anymore. You turn on your heels and walk out of the set in a huff.

He can come find you when he’s done being a dickhead but tonight he can just go fuck himself.

---

(there's part 2 now)

#✉️#♤: matty blurbs #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you

107 notes · View notes

nottheweirdest · 2 years ago

Note

Ooohhh boy do i have some recommendations for you that I really hope you like and can help with inspiration. You've already gotten so many good ones, what an awesome fan following you have haha.

First Day Of My Life - Bright Eyes

Kinda just a happy lovey fluff song that i can picture those 2 fitting with.

I apologize ahead of time cause the rest are all angsty xD i listen to a lot more angst for drabble inspiration lol.

Jacked Up - Weezer

Chapter 6 Many Mistakes - Jax Anderson (I like to picture this one with shadow hurting sonic in some way, then sitting alone being depressed with regret)

Francis Forever - Mitski (The idea of them being apart or one dying, probably sonic, and the other having to live on without is just too strong of angst for me. I love it)

Lonely - Nathan Wanger (Pure shadow angst focused on him being alone and unable to break it)

Eet - Regina Spektor (More of them being seperated/apart. Similar to francis forever)

Saturn - Sleeping At Last (This one is a big oof for me. Im sure youll understand if you listen)

Anyways thats all! Sorry for the song dump, ive just been sitting on a few for awhile and this is a perfect opportunity to share. Hope you enjoy, and hope your hectic busy life becomes more manageable soon!

Yay!! I can't wait to give these a listen!! And I know, so many good recs and I seriously couldn't ask for a more amazing following 🥰🙏. Y'all are coming through for me!! 💖

So funny, I've heard First Day of My Life before (I listen to lots of folk and folk related music, especially the mopey stuff lol can't help myself) but I'd never looked up the lyrics. This is so good and sweet. It immediately made me smile. Honestly... I'm adding this to my Coming Home playlist And so I thought I'd let you know Yeah, these things take forever, I especially am slow But I realized that I need you And I wondered if I could come home It's perfect.

On the rest, like I said lol I do a lot of mopey folk type music and I already recognize some of these 💖 Jacked Up I'd not heard and I like it a lot! I can see this fitting with them easily. Chapter 6 and Francis Forever are both def angsty but I especially like the tone of Chapter 6 🥺 Lonely.... oof. That one hits waaaaay to close to home. It's so good. Instant add to my liked songs and my Shadow playlist. 🥺 Eet by Regina Spektor is so good. She's got lots of good stuff. Sleeping at Last I've listened to a lot over the past few years. In fast, this song was already on my liked list and yeah. I get why you'd list it here so don't mind me while my heart breaks over here and I die a little inside. 😭 It's a beautiful song. I love that you shared these, thank you SO much!! And thank you for the note about crazy life. Tomorrow is my last training that I have to give for at least the next three months. I'll still have to create training and do presentations and what not but I can at least take this off my plate for a bit so really hoping to rest up a bit over the summer!

#These were all so perfect #sonadow song recs #anon ask #that last one though #gonna have to listen to something like the trolls soundtrack to get me outta my feels lol

6 notes · View notes

kurishiri · 3 months ago

Text

19 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: angst galore!

—— Neutral POV ——

Roger: Pfft, haha... I feel like I haven’t seen you so dumbfounded in forever.

As Kate’s footsteps faded downstairs to the basement, Roger, unable to hold back longer, burst out laughing.

Alfons: ...Oh, believe me, she is far from the first who’s rendered me so positively dumbfounded like this.

Roger: Hmm? So is it safe to say she’s no different than anyone else to you then?

R: Because if so, I may or may not end up stealing her away for real.

While slowly going down the staircase, Roger’s lips curved up, provoking a challenge.

Roger: After all, it’s not like you’d really care what happens to a toy you don’t need anymore, right?

Alfons: ………

—— Kate’s POV ——

A little while later, Roger also came down to the basement.

Kate: Sorry about what had happened just now... I let my emotions take me over a little back there.

Roger: Why the apology? I think it’s actually a good thing that you’ve got a tenacious spirit and hate to lose, you know?

Kate: ...Thank you.

Roger: And if you ever fall outta love with him, you let me know, because I’ll take you with open arms anytime.

(There he goes again with those kinds of jokes...)

Kate: You can say such things, but it won’t happen. You see, I...

[1] ...am pretty tenacious.

[2] ...am rather devoted.

[3] ...don’t know when to give up. (+4 / +4)

Kate: ...just don’t know when to give up. So I’m sorry to say I’ll become an old granny before I ever fall out of love.

Roger: Pfft, haha! Now that’s what I call devotion at its finest. I find myself wanting you more and more now.

(First Liam, and now Roger... I feel I’m always the one who’s being cheered up.)

(I have to pull myself together...)

Kate: Alright then, let’s get this started. I’ll help sort out the documents!

Roger: Sounds good.

From many years’ worth of investigation——

Out of the people who possessed the ability to show illusions, there were those who have ‘records following their passing,’

and Roger had come to the conclusion that ‘all of those people were not Cursed.’

Instead, they were allegedly magicians, swindlers, and the like.

(So there are no Cursed ones who have left their ‘record’ behind... and so,)

(we should find whether among those who have experienced an ‘unnatural memory loss,’ there is anyone who had regained their ‘memories.’)

(That’s where our hope lies, and we have no choice but to search for that.)

If we could find such a case among the mountain of documents in the basement... we’d be a step closer to finding a way to escape their tragic fates.

(God knows how many hours — or rather, how many days it will end up taking.)

(But, right now, we just have to do what we can!)

And so began our investigation.

—— Time skip ——

Harrison: This document dates back a whole fifty years, doesn’t it? What, have you two become aspiring detectives now?

Kate: Harrison! No, we were just looking up some things... but what brings you here?

Harrison: I figured a sandwich could be good to have while working, yeah?

Kate: ...! It’s already noon...?

Roger: Ahh, sorry ‘bout that. You can just leave them over there.

—— Time skip ——

Ellis: ...Good evening.

Kate: Wah!? E-Ellis, good evening... wait, what? It’s evening already?

Ellis: Mhm, you didn’t realize? Oh, and Roger, here’s your brandy.

Roger: Thanks. It’s getting to be around the time the lil lady should be heading to bed. Could you take her?

Ellis: Sure, that was the plan too. Kate, I’ll carry you back, so hold on tight.

Kate: Wh—? Ahh!?

Ellis: Sorry about that, but it’ll do your body good to get some sleep at night.

Roger: We can continue this tomorrow, Kate.

And so, with this and that happening, several days passed by in a blink of an eye since we started our investigations——

Kate: ...S-sorry, Roger, do you have eye drops around?

Roger: Yeah, it’s in that pipette over there.

Even after having read a wide array of documents, we weren’t seeing much fruit of our labor.

My body felt stiff from the strain on my eyes and neck pain.

Kate: I wasn’t expecting much, but... this really isn’t a walk in the park at all.

Roger: Well, that’s just how it is. You feel like quitting already?

Kate: ...No.

I shook my head before pulling out the next document.

On the paper were many lines that resembled ivy vines, connected by numerous family names and given names.

(This is... a family tree, isn’t it?)

As I stared down at it, Roger took a peek at it from beside me.

Roger: ...The first time I noticed that ‘unnatural white space’ was when I looked at this family tree.

R: See, the spot where the Brown family’s third son should be is completely blank, right?

R: But that son’s wife and children are recorded.

His finger followed the line, tapping his finger on the place where the line broke.

Roger: It’s clear that there was a third son. There had to be.

R: Otherwise there wouldn’t have been any ‘wife,’ and their children wouldn’t have been born

R: ...But the wife said that she never had a husband and that the children were born out of wedlock. And the children also didn’t know their father.

R: And the Brown family too: they said they had no recollection of the third son’s wife joining the family tree at all.

R: No matter how much I tried to question them, saying that they must’ve had a third son, she must’ve had a husband and whatnot, they’d all just look bewildered.

I traced over the white space with my fingers.

It was such a clean space, there were no signs at all of ink having even touched that part of the paper.

Kate: To see this part of the paper that was once stained with ink now so clean...

Roger: It’s a bit strange, isn’t it? I also thought at first, there was no way such a thing could happen. But... this is the truth, beyond any shadow of doubt.

(Family registries and trees, or anywhere with a list of names... any and all written information just vanishes like that then?)

(But from what I heard of Roger’s story...)

Kate: Is there anything other than the written word?

K: See, you told me of that anecdote of going into an empty room and shedding tears, right?

K: All that is to say, the room itself hasn’t disappeared. So the things that person used and their clothes, wouldn’t all those still be around?

K: So even if they’ve forgotten who used that room...

K: Maybe they could look at something and... by some miracle, remember their precious person, or something like that?

As though remembering something then and there, Roger turned to me.

Roger: ...There haven’t been such cases, at least that I know of from the documents I’ve seen and the people I’ve talked with.

R: That story about ‘going to an empty room and shedding tears’ was the story of that ‘wife’ of the Brown family’s third son.

Kate: ...! You mean from this family tree...

Roger: Yep. I paid the Brown family a visit to ask some questions...

R: And they only answered with ‘I feel that I have amnesia, though I don’t know the reason why.’

Kate: ...Is that so?

When I looked down, Roger opened his mouth again as though he just thought of something.

Roger: ...That said, that story was from several years back.

R: As for whether she remembered anything after that... we’ll probably know if we ask her at this point.

I sharply raised my head at those words, seeing Roger return a grin of his own.

Roger: It’s just since she was already getting on her years when I visited her last time, I’m not sure if she is still living.

(But still, if there’s any possibility at all... I want to bet on it.)

Kate: ...Let’s try.

—— Neutral POV; dining room ——

——Outside the window was blanketed by a dense fog.

Alfons was staring dazedly out when quiet footsteps approached.

Elbert: ...Al, is this beautiful?

Alfons: Just when I was wondering what had you running here all of a sudden...

A: Did you go out and buy some piece of junk yet again? Goodness, I just can’t take so much as a glance away from you.

Alfons took the antique hand mirror from Elbert, flipping it back and forth in his hand with an indifferent gaze.

Alfons: This is nothing but an antique you could find anywhere else. And that’s all it is: an antique with not an ounce of beauty to be seen.

Elbert: Is that so... thank you.

Ashy gray eyes idly followed the friend he grew up with as he took a seat beside him.

Elbert: ...Roger said he and Kate will be out for a bit tomorrow.

Alfons: So I see.

Elbert: Do you know why Kate has gone over to Roger?

Alfons: No, not particularly, I can’t say I’m in the know.

With a smile plastered on Alfons’ face, he set the mirror down on the table.

Elbert: ...I can tell when you are lying.

A hint of a challenge seeped into Elbert’s tone.

Just how much had he let those eyes that resembled the deep blue sea step into his life?

Sometimes, Alfons himself couldn’t tell the answer to that question — and he mocked that part of himself in his heart.

Elbert: Kate is searching for a way she doesn’t have to forget you.

Alfons: ...And you have a point in telling me all of this?

A: Oh, or were you perhaps hoping that I would be moved to tears by her admirable nature and accept her feelings?

A: Well, what have we here, I hardly took you as one to try and make her more sad.

Elbert: ...That’s not it.

E: I... don’t want that. For you and Kate both.

E: But... that was why I think I should say this.

E: Whenever I see you with her, you always looked like you were having so much fun... but right now, you seem more bored than ever.

E: And... Kate, too. I feel that she is hiding her sadness with a smile.

E: And I thought... it may perhaps be because you both want to be together, and yet you two stay apart.

E: ...Or am I wrong?

Alfons: ...Now then, are you?

A: Most joys and sorrows will eventually become forgotten in the past.

A: Just as my interest had waned, I am sure that someday, this sadness will pass her by.

A: And I reckon that once all the effort she has poured her sweat and tears into ends so fruitlessly,

A: she will come to realize how meaningless it all had been, and put it behind her.

Elbert: But what if she doesn’t, even so?

Upon hearing Elbert’s question, Alfons scrutinized the hand mirror for some seconds.

The surface of the mirror was so dull, it didn’t reflect anything back.

Alfons: ...Then I will cross that bridge when I get to it.

Elbert: .........I see.

Alfons: Well then, would it be alright if you leave the disposal of this mirror to me?

Elbert: Alright... feel free to throw it out.

Alfons: But of course.

A: It will only become a nuisance otherwise.

—— Scene change; hallway ——

William: Alfons.

Right after Alfons had left the dining room, a voice called out from behind him.

William didn’t stop walking, instead murmuring to Alfons as he passed by.

William: The Privy Council and the purification club have their eye on you.

W: If you go out——you should exercise more caution.

Alfons: Thank you, I will take your words to heart.

A: And I will exercise plenty of caution.

——The next day.

Leaving the castle in the wee hours of the morning, Roger and I left London to go to a small town.

And when we knocked on their door, a young man answered.

Kate: Mr. Brown... umm, would a lady by the name of Dacie Brown happen to still reside here?

Young man: ...You’re an acquaintance of my grandma, I take it? Wait here a minute.

After a while, an elderly woman appeared before us.

She held a cane in her hand, and when she came to the entrance, she looked at us with a bewildered expression.

Elderly lady: Hello there, who might you two be?

Elderly lady: ...I apologize, I always have had a hard time remembering things. Have we met somewhere before, by any chance?

Kate: No, this is our first meeting. My name is Kate.

Roger: And we’ve met before. Roger Barel. I came here a while back to ask some questions, just like now.

Dacie: ...Just like now, you say?

Roger: When I asked the last time, you told me how ‘when you looked at an empty room, you would end up crying.’ Does that ring a bell?

When she looked at Roger, as if to retrace her memory... her green eyes widened.

Dacie: Oh......... ahh, you’re from that time!

D: Yes, I remember now... how many years has it been? Seeing you had come to ask questions so earnestly at our first meeting,

D: I had thought your life was perhaps on the line or something.

Roger: I’m sorry for those sudden visits, that time and today. ...So many years have passed since then.

R: We were wondering if you may have remembered anything about that room since then, so that’s what we came to ask about.

Dacie: Oh, I see. ...Well, anyhow, let’s not talk while standing. Come on in.

Dacie took our gifts and put them in a cupboard before leading us to the ‘empty room.’

(Hm...? For a room that’s supposed to be ‘empty,’ I feel like someone is using it...)

As though picking up on the fact I wanted to say something, Dacie let out a chuckle.

Dacie: ...Actually, nobody had been using this room for years.

D: There was a bed and a desk, along with the bookshelf, but no one seemed to remember who they belonged to.

D: Funny, isn’t it? This is our house, and yet there are things here whose owner is someone we don’t even know of.

While speaking, her eyes narrowed in nostalgia.

Dacie: You know, Roger, ever since you came by,

D: we talked a lot about how ‘it was strange that I couldn’t remember how I became a part of the Brown family.’

D: But in the end, nobody was able to remember anything...

D: And we could only say, ‘No matter what the truth may have been, what’s important now is this family, and that’s enough.’

Roger: ...Is that so.

Dacie: There was a third son in the Brown family whom we didn’t know, and that person was my husband——

D: In the end, we figured that this room belonged to that very husband that nobody knew of.

As if reminiscing on memories with her beloved, Dacie traced her fingers over the books that were lined up on the bookshelf, before taking a single one out.

Dacie: See here, this book of poetry has a more worn cover than the others, and there are more folds on the pages too.

D: So this person must have loved poetry books... or that’s how I imagine him to be.

D: ...Hehe... I don’t even remember his name or his face, and yet...

D: Or rather, that’s why I leave it as is.

D: I end up thinking that, perhaps someday, the husband whose face I don’t even know may come back, and I’ll end up remembering everything...

Roger: ‘Someday,’ you say...

Her profile seemed to give off something akin to a loneliness that couldn’t be expressed in words... and I couldn’t help but feel a pang in my heart.

Dacie: But... although my grandson is attending school, he said he would like to use this room... so now, it belongs to my grandson.

D: At this point now, I hardly cry when I look at this room.

Kate: So... you haven’t remembered anything...?

Dacie: .........Indeed, nothing.

(Nothing——)

That ray of hope vanished then and there.

I couldn’t look away from Dacie’s profile, who seemed to stare into the room, as though she was looking for something her eyes couldn’t see.

Dacie: No matter who I talk to, though, no one would believe me.

D: But it’s like I feel there is a completely white space in my head. It’s just there, empty.

D: And I feel that it had been filled with something I held so dear...

Her face, which had just been wearing a sunny smile, gradually warped.

Dacie: Something that couldn’t be buried down by anything else should be there... and yet...

D: .........Just why can’t I remember anything... I don’t know anymore...

Her cheeks wrinkled, and tears started to fall, as they would from a young child.

That gaze she held seemed to desperately hold onto her empty palm,

as though something that would fall and scatter if she opened her hand——

Kate: ...gh.

And as though her anguish and sorrow were my own, her feelings flowed into my heart, and I felt my own eyes grow hot.

The days they have loved each other, the joys they shared with one another, and the hardships they overcame together.

I felt like I had laid my eyes for the first time on what it meant to lose each and every one of those memories... and that beloved person.

(——So that is the reality that awaits those who continue to love Alfons.)

They would come to terms with reality in desperation, live out their days... all the while continuing to chase after a lost illusion.

And, no matter how much time had passed, such a wound would never come to heal.

After all, the illusion will have disappeared.

Dacie: ...Hehe, I’m sorry about that. And here I said I didn’t cry anymore.

D: I’ll brew some tea as an apology for showing you such a display. Will you have some before you go?

Kate: ...Ah, no thank you, we’re good.

(To push her like this because I held onto this hope...)

(I ended up touching a scar in Dacie’s life that will never heal in this lifetime.)

Realizing this, I was overcome with guilt.

Roger: We were the ones who wanted to ask you about your story. So we should be the ones thanking you.

R: So, thank you for that, Miss Brown.

Kate: Thank you for talking with us.

And so, we left Dacie’s house behind us.

Kate: Roger, thank you for today.

I gave him a natural smile — or as natural as I could make it — as I raised my head.

Roger: Well, it’s normal to take a hit and miss when it comes to research on the Cursed ones. So don’t sweat it too much.

Kate: Yes, I know. I’m fine.

K: I really do find it respectable that you were able to keep going at this research for years since you were five.

Roger: And that’s why I can’t stop here, now that I’ve come this far. And besides, I’m also shouldering one of these ‘tragic fates’ myself too, so.

Roger replied in a light tone before rolling his shoulders to relax his muscles, stiff from the narrow carriage.

Roger: But, well, let’s take a break from research today.

Kate: Sounds good. And I’m sure you’re also a bit deprived of sleep, having accompanied me and all, right? So you get some rest too.

Roger: Now don’t go looking down on a doctor’s strength.

Kate: Hehe, that’s my bad then. Well, I’ll head back to my room and get a little sleep in. I feel rather beat... good night.

As I soaked in the evening sunlight, I walked back to my room,

all the while praying I could keep up a natural smile until the end.

Roger: ...Good lord.

R: You’re clearly not fine at all, so what’re you acting all tough for?

—— Scene change; Kate’s room ——

I closed the door to my room.

And once I did, I couldn’t move another step.

Kate: ...*sniffle*

I leaned my back against the door before sinking down to the floor.

Even if their tragic fates could not be altered, perhaps there may be some way around it, somewhere.

And I was sure if I knew where that was... I could still remember the person I liked.

For Alfons, too... when the time came when he wanted to be remembered by the person he truly loved,

he wouldn’t have to push them away.

(And I have no intention to give up on that hope. I wouldn’t give up over being put down a single time.)

(But...)

Dacie’s words as she said how she ‘couldn’t remember anything’ while living with things engraved with decades of her beloved’s memory weighed on my chest,

and it made it hard to breathe now.

(But I won’t cry... if I do, it would make it seem like I have given up, and I don’t want that.)

(I need to calm down... and then start again from the beginning.)

There was also the situation regarding the purification club to worry about as well, and how it may develop overnight.

(I can’t afford to just sit here.)

I thought this in my mind, and yet I couldn’t stand up...

And before I knew it, my surroundings sunk into the blue of the night.

(I... need to at least make it to the bed...)

Just when I tried to stand up, though——

I heard a knock on the door.

Kate: ...Yes, who is it?

Alfons: Good evening.

(Alfons——!?)

Kate: I-is there something you need?

Alfons: If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind opening the door?

to be continued…

← prev next →

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!

31 notes · View notes

stitch1830 · 3 years ago

Text

Lazy Day

Hello! I know technically it's supposed to be Kantoph Mondangst, but some fellow Kantophers requested Fluff today. So here is some Monfluff meant for Tuesfluff lol. Hope you enjoy! :D

......

He took the day off today, as he did most days now. She was so tired and bored at home on bed rest, and he hated seeing her so sad whenever he had to leave for work. So, he put Han in charge of the force for the day and he spent the entire morning in bed with her.

They sat there with their hands intertwined and she leaned on his shoulder, smiling and laughing as they played with each other’s fingers and tickled each other’s palm. “You want to do anything today?” Kanto asked.

Toph let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, I don’t know. You can always cook for me.”

Kanto chuckled. “That’s a given. Anything else? Are you hungry right now?”

“Of course I’m hungry, but it’s not urgent. And not sure we can do anything fun. Sugar Queen’s bed rest orders were annoyingly strict.”

“That they were.”

She grumbled a bit, then slowly turned to tuck her head into Kanto’s neck. Kanto placed his free hand on her belly and reveled in the feeling of the baby kicking. “Maybe we can think of names,” he suggested.

“I thought we settled on Toph Jr.” she teased.

“Definitely not opposed to that, or Kanto Jr.” Kanto jabbed back. He noticed that at the name suggestion, the baby stopped kicking, and an idea struck. “Hey, let’s see if the baby likes any of the names.”

Toph laughed. “What?”

“Well, the baby doesn’t seem to care for Kanto Jr., how about… Toph Jr?”

The baby didn’t kick.

“Hmmm, feels like a no to me.”

“That’s ridiculous, Hotshot. The baby doesn’t know what name they want!”

“Let’s find out!” He replied. Kanto sat up, and Toph returned to laying on her back as he leaned toward her with his hand firmly on her belly. “Okay, baby badgermole… How about… Ano?”

No response.

“Okay, not that…” Kanto said, and Toph laughed. “How about Shayi?”

Kick.

Kanto swiftly turned to Toph, elated. “Feel that? We might have a winner!”

“Don’t I get a say? I have to give birth to the melon head.”

“Okay, fine. Not Shayi then?”

He watched her wrinkle her adorable nose. “Nah. Think of something else.”

Kanto hummed as he rubbed Toph’s stomach. “What about Kasha, baby?”

“What’s with all the girl names?” Toph asked.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

“So are we just gonna be screwed if we have a boy?”

“True,” he admitted. “Okay, boy names… Ruon.”

The baby kicked and Kanto grinned. “How about that? You like Ruon?”

Toph smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “Ruon for a boy, what about a girl?”

“Not a fan of Kasha?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s nice… But it could be better.”

Kanto nodded and thought hard about a name for a girl. It had to be something Toph, Kanto, and the baby liked.

So he thought about names and people that impacted his life in one way or another, of a name that was meaningful and special and well-thought (and perhaps later he’d revisit boy names… They decided that one a little too quickly for his liking).

This kid was going to be their everything. Their pride and joy and half the reason they would get out of bed, the reason they would work to make the world a better and safer place, and their priority from here on out. This baby was their precious little gem, the thing that would shift their perspective of the world forever, and the product of Toph and Kanto’s love.

Perhaps that was a lot to put on their baby, because it was just that: their baby. There was a chance he was overcomplicating matters, and that wasn’t the point of this exercise. What was he doing calling their unborn baby a precious little gem and how it would shift their foundation and—

Or… Maybe he over thought it just enough that an idea popped into his head.

Gemstone. Fine gem. Lin.

Simple, meaningful, fitting.

Kanto leaned in toward Toph’s belly and rubbed it, whispering, “What about Lin, baby? How does that sound?”

A strong kick met Kanto’s hand, earning a laugh from both him and Toph. “Lin, huh… I like it. I think we found a winner for a girl name,” Toph remarked.

“I think so,” he replied with a chuckle. Kanto went back to Toph to lay down next to her.

“You were quiet for a while, what were you thinking about?” Toph asked.

Kanto shrugged as he faced her and kept his hand on Toph’s growing belly. “Nothing, just—” He stopped talking when he looked down at her stomach, and his heart nearly stopped at the realization.

It wasn’t anything bad, but simply a moment where he was awestruck.

Their baby was so big already, and they still had a few months before they would finally arrive. And yet, it seemed like yesterday Toph told him the news.

A single moment and a bit of time showed how much their baby had grown, and it left Kanto speechless. He was speechless because baby Beifong was growing so much already, and because Toph was giving him a gift so beautiful and practically unimaginable.

He lay there with his hand on Toph’s stomach, so in awe and so in love.

But she could sense his heightened heart rate, and she asked him after she placed a hand over his, “Hey, everything alright?”

“I’m—I’m fine, babe. Just…” he turned to look at her, and he couldn’t help but smile and kiss her cheek. “I’m just so happy right now. And have I mentioned recently how amazing you are for making our baby as we speak?”

Toph blushed, but replied with her natural snark. “You could stand to mention it more.”

She turned her head toward his, and he kissed her. Long, slow, and fully on the lips. With his forehead pressed against hers, and their noses touching, he whispered, “I love you, and you’re absolutely amazing.”

“I know.”

Kanto smiled at her cheeky grin and closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of just getting to stay at home with his family and feeling the vibrant kicks of their baby.

The blissful moment didn’t last long. “Hey, Hotshot?”

“Hmm?” He hummed in response.

“Remember when I said I was hungry but it wasn’t urgent?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, now the baby really wants jerky and prunes with jook.”

He instinctively raised an eyebrow. “The baby?”

“Yeah. No way in Oma I’d actually eat that shit all together. Your kid has gross tastes.”

Kanto chuckled and sat up in bed. “What am I gonna do with you two?”

“Make us breakfast is a good place to start,” she replied with a smug smirk.

As he opened his mouth to provide a jab in return, he stopped himself when he looked at her. With her smirk and unruly hair and mischievous bright eyes, she was too cute to “argue” with at the moment.

Instead, Kanto kissed Toph’s belly and then her lips once more for good measure, and said, “Order is coming right up, Chief.”

#kantoph #toph #toph beifong #kanto #atla #lok #writing #pillow talks #the chief and dep series #kantoph tuesfluff #but it's monday ope #it's fine it'll even out #angst tomorrow my apologies haha

18 notes · View notes

eviesaurusrex · 2 years ago

Text

ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇꜱ, ᴘᴛ. 2 | ꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

GIF not mine!

Stephen Strange x Avenger!Reader

ask: Could you write a Stephen Strange x reader one shot (or longer if you feel it haha) where the reader is an avenger and she’s secretly dating Stephen? Like they’re sneaking around and staying at each other’s places (sanctum and tower/compound) and use portals in the mornings to get back where they’re supposed to be. Maybe a close call where Stephen literally kicks her off the bed and into a portal back to her own bed to avoid getting caught. Then later they’re found out somehow by tony/the team?

word count: 9.8k (send some help, please)

warnings: even more fluff, a bit of angst, nightmare, some good ol’ nightmare aftercare proudly presented you by Stephen Strange, more sneaking around the team, the team gets suspicious, cursing, curse words, Stephen being… Stephen, injuries

author’s note: pt. 2 is here!!!! Gosh, I’m still so excited about this ask and have to pour my entire heart into it. Thanks again for the request @clockblobber <3 This one is proofread but ignore mistakes if you stumble upon them – my brain is mush today, and I’m gonna go over it again tomorrow

»pt. 1 is here«

Typing away on her phone – Stephen had been at Kamar-Taj for quite some time now to deal with the new students of the mystic arts, and she had insisted that he saved all his energy for teaching them instead of visiting her every night – YN entered the living area of the compound after arriving from an intel mission only minutes ago. Scott followed close behind because his adjustable size had been crucial for the success of the mission, and with a deep sigh, he dropped into one of the armchairs unoccupied by the other present Avengers who had gathered for movie night.

YN didn’t even notice, too enthralled by the device between her fingers, and ran straightly into a walking Peter, who almost lost his balance. “Woah, hey there, Peter.” She grabbed his arm to prevent him from meeting the floor on a more intimate level and pushed the phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “Sorry, didn’t see you,” YN apologized while patting his shoulder softly. She always had gotten a soft spot for the young man and always looked out for him during missions, even though he could handle himself pretty darn good.

The brunette shook his head in protest. “It was my–…” But YN didn’t let him finish. “Nah-uh, I don’t wanna hear a single word.” She turned her head to be greeted by seven pairs of staring eyes, curiosity filled their irises completely – and she didn’t like one second of it. “Nevermind. You people prepared some decent snacks, or do I have to do the work again?” Because that had been the case during the last couple of movie nights which ended in ordering pizza and bickering about the choice of film.

They never really managed to watch more than one before it’s gotten worse and worse until Tony demanded the remote control sovereignty because he had paid for everything they used, while Nat and herself booed loudly because the Widows never were a fan of another Star Wars-filled night. Peter was always on Tony’s side – naturally – while Bucky and Steve kept themselves out of the discussion, still not really used to the “new” pop culture they had to face nowadays. At least Wanda, Clint, and Scott counted themselves as a constant part of Team Widow, and Thor, as well as Bruce, loved to hop between camps, always depending on the movie in question. Only Vision was indifferent, but everyone had gotten used to it by now.

It was utter chaos, sometimes even on the brink of anarchy, but YN loved it. She never had something like that in her life – at least, she couldn’t remember having a family – because she was never as lucky as Nat and never had a pretending family. Even though she wasn’t sure if she would’ve liked it very much. She always had lived her life within the confinements of the Red Room, always under the watchful eye of high-ranking generals and officers, always under the influence of a drug she didn’t want to remember. She had killed not only for Dreykov but also Hydra. She had met the Winter Soldier long before he had escaped his cruel purpose. And then, Nat had found her during one of her missions, months after the attack on New York, and Bruce and Tony had managed to get the drug out of her system. They had saved her and given her a life with a purpose, with a moral compass. YN had gotten another chance. And with that chance, a certain master of the mystic arts came into the picture – and the rest was history.

Blinking rapidly, YN escaped her thoughts and turned her attention back to the group. “The food is on its way, but we could use some more snacks,” Wanda told her, an apologetic smile on her face, but YN only rolled her eyes with a grin. “Sure y’all do. I’m gonna get you covered – but don’t you dare start the movie without me!” She made eye contact with Tony, who already held the remote in hand, and cocked not only an eyebrow but her head as well. “Try me, Stark,” she warned, and the man raised both hands in surrender. “We will behave perfectly.” Nodding, YN turned around, phone already in hand again, and trotted through the corridor into the kitchen.

Arriving there, the device started to vibrate, but it wasn’t an incoming text. With a soft smile, she accepted the call and settled the phone between ear and shoulder. “To what do I owe the honor of your call?” A greeting wasn’t necessary between these two anymore. Calling one another was as simple as taking Wilson down in combat training, unlike during the beginning of their relationship. Calls had been an utter nightmare.

A chuckle echoed through the speaker. “Do I need a reason to call the woman to whom I’ve pledged my love and devotion?” Softly laughing, YN grabbed a stack of bowls out of one of the many cupboards and spread them over the counter. “I see, you’ve read a lot of Shakespearian-sounding literature. Anything interesting?” She could hear Stephen’s grin from the other end of the world. “A few works weren’t that bad. I found spells I have never heard of before, and I think they could be useful if mastered properly. What are you up to, darling?”

In the meantime, YN had grabbed an assortment of snacks, and after ripping every package open, she dumped them in the waiting bowls, one by one. “Oh, nothing. It’s Friday, so we have movie night at the compound, and it will be a nightmare after film one. Just the usual.” She almost felt his sympathy physically. “I suppose Stark won’t give up the remote?” Scoffing, the Widow rounded the kitchen island to take a closer look into the freezer. “You can bet your sexy ass on it, love. Oh, yes. Come to me, ice cream!” She hadn’t planned for the outburst to leave her lips, but well.

With an evil chuckle, YN grabbed the last package of ice cream from behind a mountain of frosted vegetables – Nice try, Tony – and opened the foil to start eating it before returning to the living room. “Remind me never to hide any ice cream from you, my evil darling,” he laughed, and YN grinned happily. “It’s his ice cream. I would never dare to steal your ice cream because I love you dearly, my dear.”

Softly humming while eating the sweet substance, the woman leaned against the counter, totally unaware of the young man who stood just around the corner and heard every single word. She and Stephen talked for a few minutes more before they ended the call with the promise of a cozy weekend after she came back from her scheduled mission in Prague.

Meanwhile, Peter stood almost frozen in the middle of the living room, eyes wide and unsure where to start – and if he should say a word about the discovery he just had made anyway. But his mouth was faster than his brain. “Uhm… You always complain that YN is… is vanishing so often?” Instantly, Peter had gathered the attention of every single soul within this room. Steve furrowed his forehead, and even Bucky looked a bit worried while Tony straightened up on his spot on the couch. “Yeah? Talk, kiddo.” Peter scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “I think she has a boyfriend – or girlfriend! I’m totally open for both if she likes women more than men and if her partner in crime is a woman, that’s super cool because rainbows and love and–…” Scott patted his shoulder to silence the young superhero. “Think, that’s enough, Peter.”

The team exchanged glances before a bubbling laugh escaped from Tony’s mouth and let them look in his direction. Tears gathered in his eyes while his body shook with every laughter erupted from him. “YN and… and a boyfriend! Best joke ever!” Still laughing, Tony wiped the tears off his cheeks and shook his head. “Keep believing that, kiddo, but we know her a bit longer than you do. She would never have something like that because love isn’t her thing.” Nat cocked a copper eyebrow. “Love is her thing, but only on paper within books because men exhaust her – and she is only interested in them.” Steve seemed not to be convinced fully, but the creases on his forehead slowly erased themselves and Bucky leaned back on the two-seater they shared. “Not everyone needs love in their lives. Some only need certain needs satisfied, and…–“ Wanda threw a pillow against the former Winter Soldier’s head. “Bucky! He is still a teenager!” He raised both hands before crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“But…” Peter tried, but now it was Clint who patted his other shoulder. “Drop it, kid. She disappears to have time to herself. It gets crowded here, and sometimes, her thoughts run in the wrong direction. Can’t blame her. Everyone needs some peace and quietness from time to time.”

Unconvinced, Peter plopped down onto one of the two beanbags, the other entirely reserved for YN herself, and just a second later, three bowls floated through the doorframe into the living room. Before they could settle down on the coffee table between the seating area and flatscreen, Vision and Wanda took them out of the air and placed them down themselves. YN entered right after that, the other three bowls in her arms and a thankful expression in her eyes. “Thanks, V, Wanda. Wasn’t sure if I could master the landing.”

The red-haired witch smiled at her while the Widow rounded the couch and dropped her body onto the dark blue beanbag. “I told you it would get better with some more practice.” She sounded more than a bit pleased. YN grinned up at her. “Yup, totally.” She didn’t need to know that a certain sorcerer had helped her with the powers she mostly could only use with blunt force because no one in the Red Room had bothered to tame her. Years might have been passed since her escape, but those powers were gone for a while after her mind had reached the surface of consciousness. Probably a self-protection mechanism if Stephen was right with his educated guess. At least she could control them to a certain extent now. It would get better over time.

Another text from Stephen shifted her mood for the better after it had tried to take a detour back to the dark place it loved to sit and sulk. The movie was secondary, and even after the food arrived – sushi and pizza – YN barely looked up from her phone and was awfully quiet as soon as the bickering started anew.

Steve watched her closely and shock settled in his chest at the sight of a smile he had never seen on the face of one of his best friends before. Happy. Full of contentment. Her eyes twinkling and sparkling. She never was unhappy, of course not, but the soldier from another time knew the feeling she had always felt – the feeling of not fitting in. And suddenly, a realization crept up on him: Maybe that feeling had vanished somewhere along the road.

;

It was quiet in the compound. The world’s mightiest heroes had ended the day a few hours prior, soon after the Quinjet with YN and Sam had landed on the tarmac. It had become a ritual to wait upon arriving team members and to drink a soothing cup of tea to unwind from the previous mission and catch up on the gossip inside the compound.

Now, YN slept in the warm and loving embrace of a pair of strong arms, her head laying on a softly rising and falling chest, the sounds of Stephen’s deep slumber always the best method to lull her into sleep. But she started to move, softly at first, barely palpable. She rolled off his chest, and naturally, the tight embrace loosened around her body. Nails dragged over the comforter, ripped loose threads off the fabric while YN’s face contorted in confusion and fear, in agony and horror. Her breathing quickened, the heart within her rib cage started to race, and sweat dampened her forehead and back.

The dreams always hunted the Widow, but oh boy. The horrors of other nights were nothing in comparison.

The first escaping moan didn’t wake Stephen, not even the second one, the man too tired from long hours inside the Sanctum’s library to find one specific spell he had needed.

It was the scream that woke him with a startle.

“NO!”

Stephen didn’t need to turn on the light to see exactly where she was after tearing open his eyes. He pushed the traitorous blankets off his legs to scoot over to the moving and trashing woman. His hands almost didn’t grasp her arms because it scared the man how cold and damp her skin was. She had those dreams not as often as they used to come, but they were never this bad.

The next scream, so full of agony and blank horror, ripped his already bleeding heart to shreds. Stephen grabbed her upper arms softly, stroked them, caressed her face while pleading with her barely conscious mind to let her escape her own personal hell.

“YN, please. Please, wake up. I am here, nothing is going to happen. Everything is alright. It’s just a dream, only a dream. I am here, love. God damn it, let her wake up!” His voice sounded helpless, angry about the universe and himself, and with horror in his own eyes, he could see the light of the corridor suddenly shining through the slit between door and floor. Shaking her gently but urgently, Stephen tried it again while multiple hurried steps came closer to her door. “YN. YN! Wake up, love!”

With a violent gasp, her eyes finally teared open, tears staining her reddened cheeks, beads of sweat tracing her temples and contracting throat. Her eyes immediately found his face, but Stephen couldn’t mutter a single word. Instead, he left the bed in a hurry and hid in the bathroom – not his best move, but he didn’t care at the moment – and just in time, he closed the door only for another door to be opened. Hurried voices echoed through the room, and the sorcerer pushed both hands into his hair, running them through it over and over to calm himself and his rapid heartbeat.

He hated how helpless he had felt and still felt while others comforted his girl. He hated every single second of it and counted the moments until they left and closed the door again.

“Stephen…?”

Her small, shaking, and questioning voice pulled the sorcerer out of his spiraling thoughts, and without wasting another second, he ripped open the door. With a few long strides, he was back at her side, settling into their bed and pulling her flush against his chest. Stephen could feel the tears wetting his shirt, but he didn’t care. She could ruin every single piece of clothing he owned, and he would hold her anyway.

“I am here,” he whispered between kisses on her head. “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He could feel her short but stiff nod, almost as if she was a robot and didn’t learn how to move like a human. Both his hands stroked over her back - up and down, in a never-ending motion. Her body still trembled, and YN dug her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, clung to the man like a drowning woman clinging to a piece of driftwood. “I love you. I love you more than anything in this universe. I will always love you. It’s okay. It’ll be okay. They can’t hurt you.” He didn’t make any sense, but it didn’t matter.

After what felt like a never-ending eternity, YN stopped shaking like a leaf, her breathing slowed down again, and her hold on him was not that crushing anymore. “Sorry,” she mumbled, but Stephen was quick to brush through her hair and soothe the rising anxiety within her tormented mind. “Stop apologizing. There is nothing to apologize for.” He needed her to understand that, but his girl was smarter than anyone else – maybe except him.

She tried to find a more comfortable position but gave up because every single piece of fabric clung to her still damp skin. “Where did you hide?” Her voice was only a whisper, but the silence had settled back over the compound, so Stephen heard every single word and every single breath. “The bathroom,” he mumbled and pressed a soft kiss to her neck. YN’s soft chuckle was a good sign, and it put the beginning of a smile on his face. “Not your best move, love. Imagine one of them would’ve gone in there to get a cool cloth or something. What a sight that would be…”

He may roll his eyes, but Stephen was glad that YN could already joke around. That had always been a good sign.

The sorcerer pressed another kiss to her neck before looking into her barely lit face. “Do you want to talk about it?” Slowly, she shook her head. He knew she would decline just now, but he had to ask nonetheless. “Can’t. Need the sun to be up.” Her illogical fear of getting dragged back into the hell that was the Red Room still present in her overworking mind, and she knew how stupid it was. But Stephen never had judged her, not one single second. “Of course,” he said, caressing her face. “How about a shower?” She nodded against his neck, where she buried her face now, and Stephen picked her up with ease to carry her into his former hiding spot.

And that’s where they spent almost an hour under the warm water jet, her eyes closed, while Stephen softly washed her hair and did her entire hair and skincare routine. It always amazed YN how much attention this man granted her alone and how much he seemed to adore her. It was mind-blowing, really, and she desperately wished that this would be something lasting an entire lifetime.

;

Holding hands like lovestruck teenagers, YN and Stephen walked through Greenwich Village to enjoy one of the loveliest golden fall days they had encountered in a long time. She loved seeing the man next to her in casual clothes – a long dark jeans, grey shirt, and a dark green cardigan – though she wasn’t sure what about it made him look so irresistible. Maybe it was the domesticity of it, the warm feeling of home, and the comforting knowledge that one was deeply loved and valued. Or perhaps it was just his good looks and the eyes full of envy thrown her way by nearly every woman they’d passed so far.

Stephen gingerly pulled her closer to his side and put her hand around his bicep, wanting her as close as possible. Everyone should know that this woman wasn’t just an acquaintance, a mere friend who just happened to walk with him in the same direction. He could see the looks full of longing and the visible drool on some male’s chins. It was only natural that he did something about it, so he bent down and pressed a lingering kiss on YN’s temple to show the world what they needed to know. He was glad that reporters didn’t try to bother them anymore.

At least one thing Tony’s existence is good for, Stephen thought cynical, but different from his thoughts, his mood shone as bright as the fall sun over their heads.

“What are you up for today?” YN beat him to this crucial question. “Lazy walks around the block? A trip to Belvedere Castle? Exploring the new exhibition at the Louvre?” Her eyes looked as bright as the sky above them, and if the world paid close attention to the sorcerer now, they would’ve bared witness to the softest of smiles they’d have ever seen. But the world was blind, so the smile full of adoration and utter wonder over how his life had turned only visible for the one woman in his life.

Humming deep in thought, Stephen pulled one of her hands, which were both settled around his arm and in the crook between bicep and elbow, up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “I’ve heard there is a new patisserie only two blocks further which happens to sell chocolate strawberries,” the man suggested, and pride and satisfaction filled his chest and body at the sight of her round eyes and the radiant smile stretching across her lips.

His past self wouldn’t believe his eyes. During some days, even he had difficulties comprehending the change he went through in order to become as worthy as possible for the woman next to him. Still, he didn’t believe to be worthy enough and was convinced that better men were waiting for her, but he couldn’t let her go. He was, again, too selfish, but she seemingly didn’t mind.

Maybe the universe granted him the happy ending after all.

“Can we go there? Like… now? Immediately?” Grinning, Stephen nodded but didn’t think of using a portal. He needed to savor every single second he could get with her – just as she did with him. So they walked the two blocks, side by side, softly telling each other about their respective days and just basking in each other’s presence.

The idyll got suddenly destroyed as YN stopped dead in her tracks and stared over the busy street to her right. She needed to bent around Stephen because the stubborn man never let her walk next to the road if he was with her, but she was sure her peripheral vision hadn’t tricked her. And the Widow was right: on the other side were Clint and Nat, talking about something which made the archer laugh.

“Fuck,” was all she hissed for now, and even Stephen caught up to her observation. But he couldn’t form a single word because the woman had already grabbed his hand and pulled him to continue their route for now. Her eyes were trained on the opposite side of the road while she gracefully avoided collisions with every approaching passerby. The sorcerer didn’t know how exactly she did that, but maybe it was her own little magic trick. He only followed her, always alternating between looking to the other pair of Avengers and straight ahead to nudge YN in a different direction if necessary.

“We need to turn the next one,” YN decided at the sight of Nat and Clint waiting for the streetlight to turn green. “And we need to be faster.” As soon as the words had left her lips, Nat turned slightly and looked in their vague direction. “Stephen, now.” They dived behind a group of tourists and sneaked into an alleyway but didn’t stop. Instead, their steps increased in speed, and YN guided them through a labyrinth of hidden shortcuts, backyards, and a tremendous amount of turns and corners. “You definitely have Google Maps in that pretty head of yours,” the sorcerer decided after another complicated combination of turning and shortcutting, and YN chuckled cheerfully while he had lost track after the second corner. “The first premise is always to know your neighborhoods better than the content of your backpack. And since I’m spending almost more time here than at the compound, I believed it was time to know my way around – just in case.” Grinning, YN guided them through another alleyway, but now, they stepped onto one of the main streets of Greenwich Village, the Sanctum Sanctorum already in sight.

Stephen turned towards her and cocked an eyebrow. “But what’s with the chocolate strawberries?” YN softly shrugged and circled both arms around his neck; his hands almost immediately settled upon her jeans-clad hips, pushed underneath the long cardigan she had thrown over the old band shirt she wore and which was her pride and joy. She rubbed the tip of their noses against each other and kissed him quickly. “We can get them later. What about that trip to the Louvre? I’m tempted to bet that we won’t see any of their faces in Paris,” the Widow whispered temptingly against his lips, and if Stephen weren’t already sold, he would be now.

But before he released her out of his grasp, he bent his head lower to kiss her properly – one hand tangled in her soft hair while the other pulled her smaller body against his. Their lips moved in complete sync, eyes closed at the blissful feeling of warmth and butterflies, breathing labored, hearts beating rapidly against one another.

Smirking, Stephen ended the kiss with one last sweet peck. He wasn’t sure what had happened in the last two and a half years ever since that woman entered his life and turned everything upside down, but he never would want it any other way.

“Now, we can go,” he spoke with a raspy but tender voice, and the portal opened just behind him to lead the couple into the heart of the city of love. He held his hand open, so YN could take it what she did with a bright smile on her gorgeous face. “Madame.” She curtsied with a soft grin. “Merci beaucoup, monsieur.” The reply escaped her in flawless French as she stepped over the golden glittering threshold, and she pulled Stephen with her before the portal closed itself and released the couple into a carefree Parisian afternoon.

;

“Sometimes you have the greatest ideas,” YN sighed, stomach full and on an endorphin high with all the sugar and love in her system. Stephen stretched his long, toned body over the comforter laying atop his four-poster bed, head propped up on one hand, eyes locked on the woman on the other side of the mattress, the remnants of their small indoor picnic between them. “Only sometimes, hm?” He teased her, and YN laughed wholeheartedly while taking one of the napkins and throwing it in the vague direction of his smirking face. “Oh, stop it,” she grinned before stealing the last chocolate strawberry and plopping the sweet fruit between her lips. Moaning, she chewed with closed eyes and let herself fall back into the pillows. “Best thing there is on this planet.”

His hand moved softly through the air, from left to right, his scarred pointer and ring finger sticking out while the rest was balled to a half-fist, and suddenly, the picnic disappeared. The sorcerer knew it would find its way onto the kitchen counter left from the sink. But he didn’t concern himself with the whereabouts of the dishes because as soon as the magic was executed, Stephen rolled himself on top of YN, arms resting next to her face so he wouldn’t crush her under his weight.

“You’re really trying to insult me even more?” It was only a rumble against her lips, and now it was her to smirk up to the sorcerer. “Yes, because I know what those tiny hits do to you – and what it will bring me,” she whispered back before kissing him softly, the sound of heavy raindrops loud on the windows of the Sanctum.

They had planned for a picnic in Central Park, far away from the privacy-invading eyes of nosy New Yorkers and tourists as soon as they lay eyes on the two Avengers. The forecast had been perfect all week long, but then, just after they had gotten ready and opened the doors of the grand building in Greenwich Village, the sky opened its gates, and the heaviest fall downpour in the history of New York made its appearance. Other people would’ve been crushed – other people as in YN – but Stephen didn’t graduate with honors when he would own nothing but simple-mindedness. He had wrapped YN in his arm, brought her back inside, and with a few flicks of his hands, the master bedroom was prepared for a cozy day indoors. They had watched numerous episodes of Golden Girls – YN loved the sitcom ever since encountering it during her post-Red Room recovery under the watchful eye of SHIELD – and she had even etched Stephen to play one of his old interviews for the prestigious Medical Journal. He didn’t like to dive into his old life, but he loved to watch the evident fascination on his girl’s face at the sight of his accomplishments. Stephen was nothing but a sucker for praise coming from this woman.

The feeling of her soft hands on the nape of his neck and her fingernails gently carding through the short hair there was everything Stephen needed or wanted in his life. It reminded him of his childhood, which barely happens anymore, but with her, everything felt light and bright, just as it did back then. Her chuckle at the feeling of his goatee tickling her lips was the sound he almost loved the most. It ranked somewhere between the tiredly mumbled I love you, Stephen when she was on the brink of sleep and the nicknames she used to call him. Nobody had believed that Stephen was a softy, he at the very least. But he was, and he didn’t want to change a thing about it.

“Thank you,” YN whispered between pecks of his lips and rubbed their noses against each other. She loved doing that. It always gave her a heart attack, for sure, especially when Stephen looked at her like he did now – as if she was the most important and gorgeous being on this planet – but it reminded her that her life was a different one now, filled with soft touches and warmth. There was still violence in it, definitely, but it was the good kind of violence. A violence born in the attempts to make earth a safer place, which was the entire opposite of her upbringing and early adulthood. And the man atop of her was a crucial part of it, and she loved every second. “For what?” His question almost got lost in the kiss they shared, lips moving more heated against one another while the tip of YN's tongue teased his soft bottom lip. YN shrugged and let Stephen roll over the mattress and, simultaneously, pull her on top of him. She propped her arms on his broad, strong chest - one of her preferred places on earth - and peppered his chin with soft kisses while searching for the right words. “For showing me love and how it is to be loved, and for always reminding me that this is my life now and not a dream I will wake up from one day and find myself back at square one. You’re completing me, love.” Her last words were barely a whisper, still too shy and insecure about expressing the depths of her feelings for this man, even though they had enough reasons to already know about them.

She was always scared of pushing him away with the intensity of her emotions as if her soul tried to compensate her for all those years without them, and YN probably would be scared for the rest of her life, even though no one had left her so far. Quiet the contrary. She had gained friends and an unexpected family, lifelong companions, and a relationship meant to be until her last day on earth, whenever that might be.

Smiling up to her, Stephen kissed her a second and a third time right after that, his fingers pushing soft strands of her hair out of her face with the beautifully blushed cheeks and behind her ear. "No, darling," he said lovingly and tenderly caressed the side of her face. Instantly, YN leaned into his touch, and Stephen thought his heart might explode right in this instant. "Don't thank me for that. You deserve every ounce of love I, and everyone else, can give you. And don't try to deny it. I know it's true." He looked up to her with seriousness in his bright blue eyes, capturing YN instantly like they always did. The couple just laid there, gazing into each other's eyes, before the woman on top of him cracked a small, shy smile and gently caressed his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. "You are a wonder, Stephen Vincent Strange," she whispered, blunt wonder and amazement evident in her soft voice. "I will thank the universe for the rest of my life for the path it had put me on." Now it was Stephen who felt the blood rushing swiftly into his cheeks, and clearing his throat, he chuckled awkwardly, not sure how to handle the emotions now rushing through his consciousness.

Whatever she is doing to us, don't let it stop, and don't you dare ruin it, a warning voice spoke somewhere in his head, and the sorcerer almost snorted audibly. As if he would ever destroy the safe haven these two had created together in a world where peace was sometimes hard to find and even harder to hold onto and preserve. He would be quite the idiot if he'd pushed or scared YN away. But to his very luck, this woman was as fearless as an amazon, born out of the stories of ancient times when gods walked the earth and granted individuals the power to conquer anything.

She owned that force of nature within her delicate body.

The fingertips of one hand had started to slowly stroke over the length of her spine, while his other hand had found its home on her right cheek, cupping the soft skin and smiling as YN turned her head to kiss his palm. "I'm not good with words, you know that, but the feeling is mutual, darling. I never had luck with relationships of any kind and nature, never knowing what to do and what was expected from me. But finding you was the greatest gift life could ever grant me because we're learning this together, experiencing everything together, without judgment and accusations if something goes wrong. This-," Stephen placed a gentle peck on the tip of her nose, "-us, is my safe haven. You are my safe haven. I don't need more." A grin formed on her face, and she cocked an eyebrow, doubtingly, and the sorcerer sighed and chuckled. "Well, plus some space for my books," he added, and YN laughed as well. "And for all of your suits and ties. Not to mention the space Cloaky demands in your closet over there."

Pulling her even closer to him - if that was even possible - Stephen growled lowly in his chest before pulling YN's face closer to his to steal another heated kiss. "I'm trying to express my feelings for you, woman, and all you do is continue to insult me. It's not the proper response." Now it was her to steal a kiss from him, and he felt the grin on his lips. "When did you ever care for properness and social expectations, Mr. Strange?" Stephen grinned a devilish smile before he moved his head to start nipping at the soft skin of her exposed neck. "No one had ever spoken truer words, but it still is Doctor Strange, my darling love, even for you."

YN couldn't fight the urgent need to let her eyes fall shut at the tingling feeling that Stephen's lips and teeth on her skin created in the pit of her stomach, and a deep sigh, suspiciously resembling an excited moan, escaped her.

But the mood was ruined faster than hurricane Katrina had reached the North American shore.

The sound of hurried steps, loud voices, and an overall hectic group of intruders let the couple look up and straight to the massive wooden door of the bedroom. YN didn't even have the time to roll off Stephen to find the perfect hiding spot - she already had a few spots in mind - because the familiar sound of voices let her freeze for a moment too long.

What is Tony doing here?! And is that... Steve's voice?

Her mind screamed question after question, and just as the steps reached the floor of their shared bedroom, Stephen did something she would never have expected to be on his mind, or he even dared to think of: He opened a portal right at the edge of the four poster bed and threw her an apologetic look. Her own eyes went wide, and YN shook her head - slowly at first until it became faster and harder with every passing heartbeat. "No. Don't you fucking da-...!" But it was too late because just as the Widow tried to finish the threat laying on the tip of her tongue, Stephen pushed her off his body, off the bed, and straight into the portal.

YN hated the feeling of falling - he knew that fucking well! - and a shriek fought its way out of her throat until she hit the edge of her own bed in her room at the compound. She felt and heard a crack as her back hit the edge of the mattress because this obnoxious, massive, and idiotic specimen of a moron had miscalculated everything, and she hung upside down on the furniture. Her arms were stretched over her head, hands resting on the carpet laying in front of her bed to prevent icy feet in the morning, and a groan escaped her as soon as her back started to protest vehemently.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

The portal was long closed, but YN felt the urge to scream her frustration out in the open before another groan left her.

"Fuck."

Stephen knew very well that he had a lot of making up to do after what he had just done, but they had never been this close to getting caught by the remaining team, who was still painfully unaware of the couple underneath them.

"Why do you barge into my home on a Saturday afternoon? Are you feeling lonely, Stark? Sorry to break it to you, but I'm neither your wife nor your boyfriend, which you brought here as well, what a surprise. Rogers." The two men, plus Wong and Wanda, almost stumbled over themselves as they pushed open the door and entered his bedroom, just as the portal had closed itself after one movement of his hand. Too close, reminded the voice in his head, and Stephen knew that YN and he had to discuss this very prominent issue in their lives.

The arriving Avengers composed themselves again before Tony spoke up. "If you would have been so kind and answered the thirty-six calls and messages, we wouldn't have to come all the way here, Gandalf. But as you obviously fucked up your phone, because I can't think of another reason for not answering, we had to come to pick you up like a damn lost kid at the information counter in a mall." His gaze didn't even flicker to the phone resting atop the bedside table. The sorcerer had put it in flight mode to have some uninterrupted hours with his girl, but that little habit of his bit them both in the ass. They really needed to talk about the whole ordeal. "So, swing your lazy ass out of this bed and do your job. Earth called to get rescued again."

And with that, Tony left, leaving a sighing Steve behind, while Wanda observed Stephen too closely for his liking. The sorcerer raised an eyebrow, challenging her with a glare to keep doing that, and the witch started to smile a small smile before following Tony down the grand staircase. After a "We should get going" from America's Golden Boy, he left as well, leaving only Wong and Stephen in his room. The other sorcerer shrugged with an expression almost describable as apologizing, and he shook his head before changing into his blue robes with a looping motion of his hand and a snap of his fingers.

Cloaky was right at his side and put itself on his shoulders but pushed the sorcerer to a sudden halt as it motioned into the direction where the portal to YN's bedroom had closed a few moments ago. "We'll check on her, I promise." The ancient artifact seemed pleased for the moment, but Stephen dreaded the future encounter with his girlfriend because he could already imagine her words and could vividly picture the scene unfolding in front of him a few hours later.

And he was right.

After a successful mission filled with otherworldly beings - the reason why 80% of the attending team had been able to handle magic - Stephen returned with the others to the compound and delivered his report before slipping away. He needed to find YN to evaluate the damage he had caused with his little stunt, and he obviously wasn't the only one with that thought because the red fabric around his shoulders parted from his master to fly a few steps ahead, even though it didn't know where they should head.

Looking up toward the corridor's ceiling, Stephen contemplated if it was a thoughtful idea to ask Tony's AI. The Stark was nothing but thorough, so it wouldn't surprise the sorcerer if the douchebag made notes after each and every day about what each team member had asked. But he had to take the risk if he didn't want to waste countless hours searching the vast compound by foot.

"FRIDAY? It's FRIDAY, isn't it?" He had never used the AI, not a single time, even though he had been part of this circus for longer than he liked to admit. "How can I be of assistance, Doctor Strange?" At least she doesn't sound like Tony himself, was all Stephen could think at that moment because it would be so typical for this self-loving prick. "Are you able to locate people inside the building?"

Meanwhile, he continued walking without a destination yet. "That is indeed part of my abilities. Who do you wish to locate?" He turned a corner and found himself in front of an elevator, Cloaky already levitating in front of it. "YN," it was almost a mumble, but the AI still understood him. Thinking about it in more detail, Stephen really didn't want to know what FRIDAY could hear inside the personal rooms of the Avengers.

Maybe Tony never took notes because if he would, there was not even the slight possibility that he didn't know about them - and Stephen would be long strangled in a random corner of the compound.

"Miss LN is currently on the second floor, gym 03." The elevator immediately opened its door and Cloaky floated inside, beckoning Stephen to follow it with an almost annoyingly raise of its fabric's edge. Sometimes the sorcerer wasn't sure if the Cloak of Levitation still saw him as its master or if he preferred YN over him. Sometimes it even felt like it was their child and had decided to be a mama's kid after hanging long enough at its father's heels.

Maybe he felt a bit betrayed, yes.

"Thank you, FRIDAY." Stephen could be polite if he wanted. "A pleasure, Doctor Strange."

And with that, the elevator closed and brought him to the second floor to face the mess he had made.

He only had sat one foot on the floor, and the distinct sound of metal rushing through the air reached his ears. Swallowing thickly, Stephen followed the artifact, now knowing where it had to rush in order to check on its favorite person, while the sorcerer dreaded to enter the gym, where YN clearly handled pointy and sharp objects.

Probably with a picture of your face pinned against the bull's eye.

A throwing knife hit the target with a dull sound at the moment Stephen entered the gym, and he could see that YN had already drawn the next one out of the holster at her thigh. She flipped it gracefully in her hand, without even sparing one glance at it. He couldn't tell if she looked particularly angry or just tired, but at the sight of her next throw, he knew that something was off - and he would bet the last bits of his former fortune that it had to do with him. But Cloaky cleared the field for now and saved him from being punctured as it wrapped itself around her shoulders and almost lovingly nuzzled itself against her cheeks.

YN turned to him, cocking an eyebrow and casually playing with the delicate knife between her skillful fingers. "Look who's man enough to show up," the Widow smirked while patting the red fabric around her shoulders. Stephen stepped in her direction but stopped abruptly as the former assassin swiftly spun around and threw the last knife. She was already turned back to face him as the weapon was still mid-air and Stephen stared in utmost wonder as it hit the bull's eye nonetheless.

"You wanted to say something, darling?"

Her sweet smile couldn't fool the sorcerer, and the blunt show of her skill was nothing that scared him because he was certain of one fact: They would both never hurt the other, not even in their furriest rage.

But this game could be played by two.

With a barely visual flick of his right hand, Stephen gained a hold of her body without touching her and pulled her the last couple of steps to him until their bodies stood pressed against each other in the room. He wrapped an arm around her waist and started to play with her braided hair with the other hand.

"I came to apologize."

YN lifted the other brow. Even though they were in a pretty healthy relationship, it didn't happen every week that Stephen Strange uttered those words or even the magical sentence I am sorry which automatically implied that he admitted he did something wrong. That's why she waited patiently, hands resting on his upper abdomen.

A sigh left him. “I only had your best intentions in mind, primarily because we never talked about how to approach the topic in front of the others, and I figured you would preferrer to crack it to them in a more… neutral environment than our bedroom.” She hummed in agreement but still waited. Stephen eyed her face and let go of her braid to cup her cheek softly. “I am sorry, darling,” he whispered now, and after a deep breath, YN nodded. “Okay. But don’t you dare do that ever again, especially if your mind isn’t fully focused because I don’t feel the need to hit the edge of my bed a second time. My back still hurts, you moron.” And with that, she raised one arm to hit the back of his head softly with an open palm, but it was enough to convey the message.

Instantly, a worried expression settled on his handsome face, and the hand resting on her lower back started to trace her spine underneath the red fabric of the cloak that now clumsily caressed her other cheek. Stephen put pressure on his touch, feeling every vertebra pressing unyieldingly against his fingertips, and Stephen observed her face almost painfully close. She didn’t move a muscle, but he witnessed the slight furrow of her forehead and brows as his fingertips reached the middle of her back, where her spine gently curved.

Right at the lumbar curve, between L2 and L3, he thought while his fingertips continued the pressure in various places. It’s probably the ligament between.

“Does it hurt when I release the pressure?” His question was softly spoken, and YN still looked up to him, eyeing his face attentively. She cocked her head from one side to the other. “Kind of? It’s probably just the bruise, nothing to worry about. But hey, now we know that the bed frame is exceptionally sturdy.” YN grinned up at him, but Stephen only shook his head before taking her hand in his. “We’re going to the med bay to check you out, right now,” he decided, and the sorcerer’s mind was made up.

When it came to her, he needed to be 100% sure that everything was okay.

But they didn’t come far. Instead, they stopped dead in their tracks as the couple faced Peter and Scott, both staring at them with wide eyes after they had processed the meaning of interlaced fingers. Peter started to grin while Scott’s expression didn’t resemble joy over the newly found love. YN knew that mischievous look in his eyes, the glimmer of a stupid idea developing in his mind. “Scott…,” the Widow spoke warningly, but this son of an ant chuckled before spinning around and starting to run. “I will revel in your embarrassment, YNN!” He shouted over his shoulder, but YN couldn’t let that happen. She stopped holding Stephen’s hand, and the sorcerer couldn’t utter a single word before his girlfriend bolted right after the other Avenger. “And I will revel in your screams filled with pain and agony after I broke your flat ass, Lang!” Her angry words traveled over the corridor, and now it was only Peter and Stephen facing each other.

The young man started to grin again after the confusion and surprise had vanished from his face. “I am really happy for-…” But Stephen only needed to shake his head to one side to let him fall silent again. “Don’t, Parker,” was all he said before following the path YN and Scott had taken, the young hero hot on his heels.

This was certainly not how he had thought everyone would find out about them, and he had already played with images of Scott dangling over a cliff or freezing his ass off at the foot of Mount Everest within his mind. It wasn’t himself who the sorcerer was concerned – he couldn’t give less shit on the other’s opinion about him. But he knew how much it meant to YN because this bunch of mostly idiots was her family. Not by blood but by choice, and Stephen had never intended to overshadow anything about that. Now he feared that everyone would give her a hard time and what that would mean for her mental health.

Stephen was nothing but an over-worryingly boyfriend.

With a sigh, he followed the sound of steps and canceled Peter’s voice out entirely because he couldn’t handle all these questions now or ever. He liked the kid, he was a decent human after all, but his rambling nature wasn’t something Stephen particularly enjoyed. Instead, he focused on the shouting and watched after rounding the last corner as the catastrophe unfolded in front of his eyes.

First-row seats for your own downfall, wonderful.

YN panted heavily while hanging on Scott’s back to try and hold his gossiping mouth shut, but he was too used to it with a daughter at home. So, the inevitable happened only seconds later.

“YNN and Harry Potter are a thing!”

Immediately, the entire living area was silent as a grave, every movement ceased, and every single pair of eyes turned to Scott and the other arriving parties.

YN slowly slid off his back and threw Ant-Man a death glare – she would definitely try and step on him during one of their next missions – but she swallowed thickly at the stares moving between her and a certain someone somewhere behind her. The Widow knew that Stephen was here because she could feel his body temperature in her back only a heartbeat later, before his hands settled on her shoulders, softly stroking them with his thumbs.

Nat was the first to speak. “Well, that’s a surprise.” Clint cocked an eyebrow and threw Peter an approving nod. “You were right. Good ears, kid.”

Stephen felt as if he could touch her boiling anxiety under his fingertips and bent down to press a tender kiss to her temple while Steve marched a few steps in their direction before stopping again. His eyes searched her face, tried to read her mind, and settled on the sorcerer to evaluate the situation. But he spoke to YN. “Is he treating you right?” The woman didn’t need to think for even a second. “Better than the Queen of England,” she answered without hesitation, and Steve could see the tender expression in her worrying eyes. So he gave one nod of approval and settled back into the armchair.

Tony, on the other hand, seemed not pleased at all. He marched to the couple and weaseled his way past YN to shove Stephen a few inches back. “First, you insult her at every given occasion, and then you have the audacity to fuck her and play happy family?! Is your ego this massive?!” The Widow had spun around the second he had reached Stephen and had touched him, but instead of relying on violence, she grasped his wrist in a soft hold. She urged him with a pull to turn to her, to look at her and not to Stephen, but her face wasn’t as sweet as her touch. The Stark could clearly see the burning fire behind those irises who once had looked up to him with a terrified expression, unsure of what to expect after being finally her own person and having her very own life.

“You know I love you like the brother I never had, Tons, but if you touch him again, I have to kick your ass, and not even your precious suits will safe you then.”

YN didn’t have to raise her voice to convey the meaning to everyone, but especially Tony, because the Stark swallowed dryly. He had never thought to once be on the other side of the situation – not standing next to her and listening with utmost joy and pride as she threatened others but being the target of said threat. It was an unpleasant feeling, and he didn’t want to imagine how unpleasant it must be to feel her full wrath.

Meanwhile, Stephen stood there, a tender expression settling on his face – an expression never seen before by the others which threw them almost off their feet – and a pleased smile on his lips. “That’s my girl,” he told no one in particular in a mumble. YN heard it, though, and started to smile before throwing Tony one last warning glare and leaving him to stand next to her sorcerer again. “To make it official,” she raised her voice and gestured to Stephen, who already had his arm wrapped around her waist again. “May I introduce you to my boyfriend of one and a half years, Stephen Strange?”

The team’s eyes almost popped out of their holes at the mention of how long this had been going on behind all their backs, and Sam chuckled. “Never accept missions again which require detective skills. We suck at it,” he stated the obvious, while Steve almost choked on his coffee. “And I once called her my best friend.” YN grinned at him and shrugged softly. “I know what a gossip you can be with the right people around you, so… sorry, sweets,” she apologized, and Steve looked at her with a tender expression nonetheless. “I’m just happy that you’re happy. It always was the one thing I wished for you to find.”

Looking up to Stephen, who battled Tony in a glaring contest, a small but loving smile tucked on her lips, she nodded before turning back to Steve, who seemed more than content at the view of his best friend. “I am, Stevie. I really am.” Those words almost got swallowed by Tony’s exaggerated scoff, but Steve had the advantage of super soldier hearing, so he only smiled and didn’t stop observing the new couple while Bucky settled next to him. “She still will be your best friend, punk. Don’t go all brotherly tears now because your baby sister is grown up and finds her own life,” he chuckled while patting his best friend’s shoulder.

Meanwhile, Tony stared YN dead in the eye. “If he ever hurts you, I will end him personally. He only has to raise his voice in front of you, and I’m on my way. If his ego tries some bullshit, give me a call.” And turned to Stephen, he told sternly: “She has my number saved in her favorites.”

YN rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and I can remove said number out of my favorites. Plus, he is on this list, too.” And with that, she pointed to Stephen right next to her. Tony scrunched up his face. “Urgh, then please, I beg you, put me off that list if he is on there.”

“You are an absolute ass without reason.”

“Born like that.”

“It’s a shitty character trait. Do I need to call Pepper?”

Now, Tony stared down at her challenging face and gulped. “No…?” He morphed the one syllable into a question before raising both hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. I approve of this relationship.” The sorcerer scoffed. “We don’t need your stamp of approval,” he clarified, and YN warningly rubbed over his back. “We only told you because YN considers all of you family and didn’t want to lose you. So, toughen up, Stark, and swallow the bitter pill so we can move on from here because this woman deserves a dinner in the comfort of our bed and some episodes of Golden Girls after this day.”

She couldn’t comprehend his words because suddenly, Nat stood in front of her and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. She wrapped both arms around the fellow Widow and felt the redhead’s lips pressing soft kisses over her head. They may be close in age, but YN had always been the little sister in this relationship. “Thank you for choosing us as your family, Солнышко 1,” (1: little sun) Nat spoke in the soft tone entirely reserved for her most favorite people. “Thank you for accepting me, сестра 2.” (2: sister)

Nat squeezed her shoulder before letting go of her, and the Widow turned back to Stephen, one brow raised. “You said something about Golden Girls?” The sorcerer showed his signature smirk, and while a portal started to open in his back, he grabbed YN around her hips and threw her over his shoulder. A squeal escaped the surprised woman, but a laugh followed close, and grinning, she waved the other Avengers while Stephen carried her over the threshold of the portal right into the foyer of the Sanctum.

“Don’t you dare call or text us in the next 48 hours, Stark!”

This was a wild ride, wow. pt. 2 is finally here! I hope you enjoyed reading it :3 I really loved writing those two parts. As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated!

Taglist:

@poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @harpywritesfic @strangeions @mischiefmanaged71 @apple-and-berry @ben-er-ino @multifandomrandomgirl @lucimorningst4r @dark-academics-and-florals @hunterofshadows04 @janora00 @lejuveinlegroove @ohchoices @jyessaminereads

516 notes · View notes

primofate · 3 years ago

Text

Breaking up Part 2 Albedo x gn!reader

Sorry it took so long! Haha. Yeah tumblr effed over for me. But here it is! :D

Scenario: Breaking up and getting back together again

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst? NOT PROOFREAD

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 1) (Part 3 - Final)

“Sucrose... Do you know where Y/N went?”

5 days 3 hours and 12 minutes. He’d been counting. He’d been counting since you left. It was only today that he had the courage to ask Sucrose about it.

Sucrose jumps at the sudden call of her name.

Albedo had not been the same. The frequent mistakes in the lab proved it. The constant slips of the hand and test tubes shattering on the floor told Sucrose that perhaps that was how his heart looked like too.

“...No, I don’t,” Sucrose simply says, then lets the silence of the lab fill the air. Only the bubbles from their experiments hanging. It was still for a moment, Sucrose going back to her calculations and research. Albedo sat in front of his alchemy set, blankly staring at it.

He doesn’t even understand what being “tired” feels like anymore. He hasn’t had a decent sleep. Every small movement in the house, every whisper of the wind he would bolt up in bed, thinking it was you coming in from the front door. Sometimes he would hear someone shuffling, he would stop and listen for you, but then realizes that the sound was the sound of his legs under the covers, trying to keep warm without you around.

Sucrose glances up at her mentor. He’s buried his face in his hands, his hair in slight disarray. She knew what was going to happen next. He was going to stand up and just walk away from the lab, and Sucrose was not going to see him until tomorrow again.

Tomorrow, the cycle would repeat.

Albedo couldn’t function. It was pathetic. He really thought that he must be such a sight right now, eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair down and clothes a little unruly. He ran away from the lab again. He abandoned his “important” experiment and went back home, retreating in his room, falling on his knees and slumping on the bed in front of him.

He buried his face into his arms and tried to piece his heart back together.

“Albedo, will you ever get tired of me?”

There was a soft hint of a frown on your face. Silly you, Albedo thought. Always worried about being apart from him. He only smiles and cups your chin in his hand, leans in close to press his forehead against yours to whisper, “Never,”

His fists clutch at the bedsheets, the fabric scrunching up under his hands. Every.damn.time. he tried to take a break, he would be reminded of you. Every thing reminded him of you. Breathing reminded him of you. It was as if you were right beside him and yet you weren’t.

It was him. He was supposed to be the one asking “Y/N, will you ever get tired of me?” He was supposed to be the one worried. But he hadn’t been because he had taken you for granted. He thought that you’d always just be there, waiting for him patiently as you always had but now that he was alone, he realized just how lonely this silence could be.

“You must have been lonely...waiting here for me in this silence...”

His voice was muffled by the sheets, and he didn’t know who he was talking to. He did that a lot these days. Saying things that he wished you could still hear.

The next day, just as Sucrose predicted. It was the same. Halfway through his experiment Albedo stopped, and stared at nothing in particular. She wondered if, whenever he did that, he remembered the things he said to you that day.

But, just as Sucrose thinks today would end up the same...

it didn’t.

“Big brother Albedo!” Klee stormed into the lab, the door slamming open really loud. “Oh...I’m sorry, I didn’t check the sign... I...” Klee stepped out to look at the door sign and found “KEEP OUT” still there. “Oh no...! I did a mistake! Sorry big brother,” the little girl fumbled with her fingers and swung from side to side to show her apology.

A hint of a smile appears on Albedo’s face and Sucrose was thunderstruck. There had been no expression on the Kreideprinz’s face for the longest time that the smile had felt so foreign. “It’s alright, Klee. Do you need help with something?” and his voice wasn’t hoarse. If there was anything that could cheer him up, it would be Klee.

He was done prioritizing his research over the people that really mattered.

“Look what I got! I’ve never seen such a pretty flower in Mondstadt before,” Klee showed off the blue flower to Albedo, eyes shining and wide. Albedo touched the petals as Klee held it up for him. “Ah, yes, Glaze Lilies. You can only find them in Liyue, Klee,” Albedo explains. Klee bounces excitedly.

“Ohhhh! That’s amazing! Y/N must have travelled there recently!”

The silence in the lab was deafening. Albedo’s hand drops from the flower as he looks at Klee, confused. Sucrose had stopped what she was doing, wide-eyed, staring at the young bomber. “...What do you mean, Klee?” Albedo whispered out.

Hearing your name said by someone else made it all the more real that you weren’t here with him anymore.

“Oh! See, Klee was in Windrise and... I was looking at the fishes...” Klee gasped a little, “Please don’t tell Master Jean!” she whispered pointedly but continued. “I saw Y/N there, and Y/N gave me a really big hug and gave me this Guh lays Lily,” the young girl got the name wrong, but Albedo hadn’t been listening anymore. He stood up and crouched down to eye level with Klee, hands on her shoulders. “W-When, Klee?” he clears his throat and tries again, “When did this happen?” Sucrose had also been listening and watching in bated breath. Klee gave one of her biggest, most innocent smiles, not knowing how crucial this information had been to Albedo. “Just now! I just came back from Windrise!”

Albedo didn’t feel the slightest sorry that he bolted out of the lab without explaining to Klee. She would understand and Surcrose was there. He sprinted towards the gates of Mondstadt like his life depended on it. In some senses, it really did.

I can make it.

He was panting hard. His footsteps thundering in his ears. His breath coming in quick ins and outs. His heart is about to fly off its cage.

I can make it. It’s just outside of Mondstadt.

Wind rushes past him, the pigeons on the bridge outside of Mondstadt, disturbed, flying away in a frenzy. Timmie shouting after him.

Please be there. Please.

It takes him longer than he wanted. He wanted to be faster, wanted to be there already but he was still running. Still chasing after that hope. The adrenaline he feels pumps in his veins and yet he is so out of breath that he needs to stop. His hands resting on his knees as he closes his eyes and tries to get his breathing even.

I have to keep going.

His legs were killing him. They were strained by the sudden rush of exercise and yet he still drags both towards Windrise. He could see the large tree at the horizon, but he was too far away to see if you were there. He continues to pant, steadying his breath, preparing for another burst of energy to run towards where he so desperately hoped you were. What if you weren’t there anymore?

What if he was too late?

What if he never saw you again?

“What if it doesn’t work...?” Albedo asks, pondering over the research and discussing it with you over dinner. He loved to talk about his experiments with you because you gave valuable insights on it, and really listened to him. You smile and give him the confidence that he needs, “Then you can try again, Bedo. You always find a way!”

He’s still panting by the time he reaches the steps leading up to the large tree. His eyes dart around. He circles around in place, wondering if you were around the area. He continues forward, stepping up to the big roots and yet again looked around, trying to spot your familiar tuft of hair/colour.

At the corner of his eye he spots something, behind the big tree. A Crystalfly. It was flying away and his eyes automatically follow it. There was a hand trying to reach out for it, but it barely grazed the Crystalfly’s wings. You stepped out from behind the tree, a little annoyed that you couldn’t catch the Crystalfly.

Albedo feels like he’s frozen in time. He stands there and watches the wind caress your hair. Watches as you tuck your hair back behind your ear. Watches as you turn around and start walking away. He snaps back to reality and moves forward, roots and sticks cracking under his feet as he struggles through the root laden path just to get near you.

You, hearing the disturbance from behind, turn around and was met face to face with the lover you left a few days ago. Something shatters inside you. You weren’t ready for this. You were far from ready to see him again. Why was he out here in the middle of the day? You stood still just as he did in front of you.

You notice how his hair is sticking to his face with sweat. The fast rise and fall of his chest. The pained look in his eyes. The closed up fists on his side. “Y/N--” his voice cracks and tears start to pool in your eyes.

You aren’t strong enough for this and you start to turn away.

Albedo rushes forward to trap you in a hug. His arms so desperately wrapped around you as his head rests on your shoulder. “Don’t,” he pleads. “Please don’t go. Come back with me, please,” there’s a different type of hopelessness in his voice. A moment later tears are streaming down your face.

“I-I can’t Albedo. I--” can’t put myself through that again. I can’t and don’t want to be alone at home all the time.

His body shakes and you realize it’s a sob that wracks his body. Your shoulder is slightly wet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please.” You’ve never seen him cry. Not like this. Not as he clings to you and admits defeat. “I...I couldn’t take care of you--It’s my fault. I know, but--”

“I like Windrise. It’s very relaxing.” You say as the two of you walk around the tree, collecting materials. “Is it?” Albedo responds, stopping momentarily to look up at the tree. “You don’t think so?” you curiously ask your lover. He ponders for a moment before smiling, “I think coming home to you is a lot more relaxing,” at the early stages of your relationship hearing something like that from him would cause you to blush.

You pry his arms away and look up at him. His head is dipped low and you can’t see his face clearly, concealed by his hair. You brush his hair away and lift his head up, and you see how streaks of tears run down his cheeks. You see the sleepless nights in his eyes. The hurt that creases on his forehead. You see what your absence has done to him, and all in one moment, you think that perhaps you were too harsh on him. That you should’ve talked it out instead of leaving so abruptly but you-- “I was hurt...” your lips tremble as you try to explain.

“I try, really hard, to make things easier for you. To care about you. I have never asked for anything grand.” You’re surprised at how level your voice is, despite feeling like you might break down just as he does.

“I’m aware,” Albedo wipes at his face, frustrated at himself. His tears have stopped. You were talking. That must be a good sign. “I don’t--Don’t deserve you,” but he steels himself and places his hands on your cheeks. God how long had it been since he touched you like this? and wipes away the tears that were silently falling from your eyes. “But I’ll take care of you. I’ll prove your worth. I... won’t make the same mistake again,”

And when Albedo said or promised something he was one of the few people that you believed in the most. He was trustworthy all the way, and was true to most of what he said. “You have my word... and if I do make the same error again then... Then you can leave. But right now I--” he moves to rest his forehead against yours, taking in the warmth and love that he had missed. “I’m asking for another chance,” he gulps. “Please,”

You stay quiet for a moment. Assessing the situation. But your eyes close at the closeness the two of you are in right now. There was no doubt that you still loved him. A few days would not change anything. A few days would not ruin the years that you spent together. But you were scared and guarded. You weren’t sure what would happen and if it was worth it. You were scared of being with him and being lonely. “...We... should talk and think a little bit more about this...” you conclude and give your answer, stepping away from him.

Albedo’s face grimaces in distraught, but turns into confusion when you take his hand and tugs on it slightly. “...At home, we can talk about this at home...Is that okay? Let’s go back first,” you would figure it out with him from there.

His head drops and he tries hard not to let tears escape again. He really didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve this kindness but he sure as hell would take it. He would take it and make it right again. He picks his head up and squeezes your hand, voice slightly soft and trembling, and smiles.

“Thank you. That’s perfect,”

and with his hand tight on yours, because he wasn’t letting you go again, the two of you make your way back.

Should I make a part 3 with fluff and write about the aftermath and how Albedo made it up to you? Let me know :D Message me :D Love me <3

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

Taglist (Want to be notified when something new comes out? Sign up!):

https://forms.gle/VZmJXQssHcv7YzQc6

If you’d like to be extra sweet and donate, here’s my kofi link:

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

Taglist: @larkspyrr @rim0na @sweeti-pie @l3mon-mxshroom @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @kyquu @kimbapsana @leefletter @hentaje @tempehlust @rinnesy @fanfictionenthusiast

#albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact #genshin fics #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfics #genshin fanfiction #genshin angst #albedo angst

2K notes · View notes

mikeyelistsukasa · 2 years ago

Note

hiii! could you make a sakura nanamine x reader were the reader is jelous please?

thank you so much!! ^^

Sure thing<3 usually I’ve heard sakura can’t leave the school but in this fanfic she can!(its for the angst sorry not sorry lol)

Sakura with a Jealous Darling

It was all an accident

You didn’t mean to snap at her

You just had a bad day

A really REALLY bad day

“SAKURA LOOK I BOUGHT YOU THE BOOK YOU REALLY WANTED”

“Oh s/o…thank you but natsuhiko-kun already got it for me yesterday”

“H-huh?”

“Sorry girl im just faster when it comes to my lady. She should’ve ended up wi-“

And there is goes a book hitting natsuhiko yet again

“Dont call me that”

“Welp that’s alright typical natsuhiko 😅 would you like to go out today maybe?”

“I can’t i have promised to tsukasa-kun that i will stay here to come up with new rumours”

“Yup yup!sorry s/o but i guess sakura chan can’t come to your lil date haha”

“Oh uhm yeah thats fine too…maybe tomorrow?”

“Can’t. Exams”

“…after the exams?”

“Hm yeah i might be free”

Hearing “might” from her sounded more like a no to you but you hoped she could come

“Alright i have to head off bye!”

Wow she didn’t even reply whats so great in that book she is reading-_-

It was very VERY lonely without your girlfriend and gosh if it weren’t for these two-…wait am i…jealous?

No this cant be…or is it

You were unsure so you just went to sleep

Days have passed and you were finally able to go on a date with sakura

You dressed up nicely and went on your way

You guys met up at a café

It was going great until she took out the book natsuhiko bought her

„So…how was your day so far?“

No reply

„Sakura?“

„Hm? Did you say anything dear?“

It felt like you are talking to a wall

„Ive asked how your day has been..can you please put the book down? It feels kinda awkward and hurtful as if you don’t wanna be here with me“

You kinda felt guilty saying that knowing she loves to read 24/7

But she did put it down anyway

„You are right my apologies s/o and about my day it w-„

Suddenly she heard her phone ring

It was natsuhiko

„God why him of all people“ you thought to yourself

Suddenly sakura stands up ready to leave

„W-wait where are you going?“

„Something happend at school and natsuhiko-kun told me that tsukasa-kun wants me to be there“

And before you could reply she was already outside of the cafe

All alone

You payed for your order and left

It went on and on

She was busy

Busy busy busy

First natsuhiko then tsukasa and then even mitsuba???

And not to mention how clingy tsukasa is…

You were deep in mind while sitting on the couch of the broadcasting room

That is until tsukasa came again hugging and licking sakura‘s ear

Thats when you snapped

„GOSH WILL YOU STOP THAT!?!?“

Suddenly all eyes are on you

Did you just say that out loud?

You ran right to the exit and into the girls bathroom

But little did you know someone chased after you

„Stupid natsuhiko. Stupid book.stupid tsukasa.stupid cafe. Stupid sa-…“

You just went quiet not even wanting to pronounce her name

„Stupid sakura?“

You hear a familiar voice

As you looked up it was sakura

„Sakura!!!….What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with „these“ boys“

She sat next to you

„S/o are you perhaps…jealous?“

„NO IM NOT…Maybe…so what if i am?!”

You raising your voice startled her a little

“You’ve treated ne like im not even there for the past weeks! Oh sorry! Natsuhiko already brought me this and that. Oh sorry! Tsukasa wants me to this and that. Oh sorry! I need to study for this and that. And OH SORRY for abandoning you at the caf-“

You felt her hugging you out of nowhere

“You’re right…i am sorry. But that doesn’t really make it up”

You decided to stay quiet

“This might still not make it up but.”

You looked just to see her holding two tickets to a movie

Wait that movie…!

“Would you maybe have time to watch the new______ movie with me? You did wanted to watch it so i thought-“

You suddenly hugged her tightly almost causing you two to fall

“SAKURAAAAAA IM SORRRYYYYYY”

“It’s alright don’t worry i understand you didn’t mean to snap”

You guys stayed in that position for a while enjoying eachothers presence

“So…are we gonna watch th-“

“YESYESYESSSSS”

Hope i left you satisfied! Please visit again!!!

#tbhk x reader #x reader #tbhk x y/n #jshk x reader #tbhk sakura #jshk sakura #sakura x reader #tbhk sakura x reader

28 notes · View notes

riridontneedya · 3 years ago

Text

IMPERIUM✨

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Any house Reader, Harry Potter x

Wordcount: 4,210

Warnings: SMUT, ANGST dom ,sub, daddy ,oral, teasing ,praise, spitting , chocking etc run of the mill smut.

A/N : Well the time has come I've finally given in.. I say finally didn't take much conviction lol. Anyway in this universe Dumbledore is still very much alive and no-one tried to kill one another so all is well. As always enjoy and let me know what you think xx

Summary: Draco and y/n battle it out for the new position as headmaster but what happens when they are made to work alongside one another

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please” spoke Dumbledore. He arose from his chair gently tapping his knife against his chalice in order to garner the crowds attention . Shortly everyones eyes were fixated on him. He cleared his throat and began. “I would like to thank each and everyone one of you for coming out tonight … as we all know its been a tough decision for me to step down, however! .I have no fear as I know the school will be in the safest of hands. I hand picked these two myself and in-fact trust them with my life. I know they have been working tirelessly day in and out to ensure not only my trust .. but all members of committee and most importantly our students. So with that being said when it is revealed in tomorrows assembly who the new headmaster and deputy are I want you both to know ,no matter the outcome I am so proud of you both, so let us raise a toast to our candidates . Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N and Draco Lucius Malfoy”. With that Dumbledore rose his chalice high in the air smiling warmly at the pair. Everybody followed suit and raised their glasses high in celebration.

Draco and Y/N graciously thanked everyone as they showered them with words of praise and encouragement . Just then Y/n went to speak however her words were abruptly cut short by Astoria. As if an eager child unable to contain her excitement she blurted out. “ Draco and I are so grateful for all the support, so as a thank you after this we will be having refreshments and canapés at the Malfoy manor to celebrate his new position as headmaster .. all are welcome to join”. ‘Headmaster .. oh my how incredibly presumptuous” Y/N chuckled into her drink. “Excuse me” squeaked Astoria, she spun around rapidly locking eyes with Y/n. Y/n folded her arms across her chest and began “I do believe you heard me Astoria .. you said headmaster and thats yet to be revealed so for you to address Draco as said headmaster is well.. presumptuous”. Astorias tongue prodded the inside of her cheek, you could tell by the hue of red in her face she was infuriated but trying to find the words without imploding.

“Well , I just know he will ok so yeah just know that”, spat Astoria in a feeble attempt to shake off Y/ns rightful observation’. ‘Oh I see” snapped y/n “why didn't you say it was you sooner, Sybil , Sybil Trelawney teacher of divination . What are you doing here under the guise of Polyjuice potion? I mean you could’ve just come with your crystal ball and tea leaves and said he was the winner that way instead of this elaborate scheme don’t you think?” The laughter of fellow by standers suddenly erupted around the women. Astoria who now sup parsed hues of red was the shade of a beetroot , completely enraged prepared to snap she was interrupted by Dumbledore. “ NOW now girls quell your fiery natures, this is to be a peaceful night of celebrations”. The woman smiled coyly at Dumbledore. ‘My apologies Dumbledore” y/n chimed up. “We speak no more of it ok” Dumbledore smiled and gently patted the crown of y/ns head and proceeded to make his way back to his chair. Y/N turned and smiled gloatingly at Astoria. In response Astoria screwed her face up mockingly and fled no doubt to chastise Draco for not swooping in and defending her.

“Pwoarh Nice one mate” chuckled Fred as he held out his fist waiting for Y/n to bump it. Hahah stop it you she giggled. ‘Here , should we go to the manor after this for a laugh” sniggered George appearing alongside them. “Ha, I'm sure she’s revoked my invitation effective immediately” said Y/n, as she peered over to Astoria , she could see her flailing her arms around whilst Draco made no attempt to conceal his look of boredom in the conversation. “You know what lets .. Ive been dying to get a peek of the manor anyway what harm can it do”. ‘Cracking’ the twins harmonised in unison. The trio linked arms and jollied along.

Once arrived at the manor they soon found it to be every bit luxurious as they envisioned. The floors were marble and reflected the light of the enormous crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. Each stair of the grand staircase was illuminated by candle light creating an auburn strip propelling up the length of the stairs. Every inch of the manor oozed with decadence. “Wow , its rather impressive” mused y/n . “You can say that again” chimed Fred as he helped himself to a glass of champagne , handing one over to y/n. They began to mingle and drink with the rest of the party guests it was an overall pleasant evening that was until Astoria appeared before Y/n. “Glad to see you could make it y/n” said Astoria with a constipated smile. She had made little to no effort to conceal her sarcastic tone.

Y/n had no interest in rehashing todays mini confrontation. Instead she pulled a sickly sweet smile and said “ Wouldn’t miss it for the world, thank you for your generous hospitality Ms Green grass.” Astorias face dropped “green green .. she muttered, haha don’t be silly you must get use to calling me Mrs Malfoy”. Now despite y/ns fondness to antagonise Astoria at any given opportunity she couldn’t help but see she was visibly hurt. She immediately began to fumble her words in a bid to preserve her feelings “honestly , Astoria I'm sorry I didn't know the extent of your relationship .. I apologise”. Astoria still hadn’t reacted she stood stationary bottom lip protruding sad and helpless like a lost puppy. Y/n gently squeezed Astorias forearm and began to say “ look you mustn't pay it any mind, Draco wouldn’t dare indulge in any small talk with me about family life .. so don’t stress it congratulations by the way”. Astoria looked up at her with eyes softened . Relief washed over Y/n as she could tell she was receptive to her. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder to herself why he hadn’t mentioned news as big as that , they had worked so closely over these months . To be fair on a good day if you hadn’t known Draco you wouldn’t even know he had a girlfriend let alone fiancé .. or wife ?

Astoria went to talk but just then none other than Draco emerged behind her . His hand came down onto her shoulder. sharply. “ thats enough now sweetheart , I think Daphne was looking for you actually”. There was a weird exchange of eye contact Astoria weakly smiled and left. It was now just y/n and Draco stood before one another. Draco broke the silence by clearing his throat “ Y/L/N, may I interest you in a nightcap in my office ,there are things Id appreciate to discuss before we venture into our new working relationship”. Although slightly bewildered she agreed as after all they were to work alongside one another and she’d rather it be somewhat harmonious than turbulent.

Y/n followed Draco across the length of the great hall and into a pair of grand double doors. The room was vast , books littered the walls as far as the eye could see and in the corner a fireplace roared. Draco stood behind his desk and motioned for y/n to take a seat opposite him. She smoothed the back of her dress and proceeded to make herself comfortable. Draco started pouring whiskey from the crystal decanter into a couple of whiskey tumblers. The burn of the fire whisky ignited as it glided down her throat. The combination of whiskey and champagne left Y/N beginning to feel somewhat merry, she hadn’t really noticed during the quiet sobering conversation with Astoria. ‘So what is it you have in mind Draco?”. His stormy grey eyes peered over at her from behind his glass. ‘Very well” he remarked and manoeuvred himself to Y/NS side of the desk .He perched himself on the edge legs akimbo and both his large veiny hands clasped around his whiskey glass. Y/n inhaled sharply as she averted her gaze from his legs splayed before her. Continuing he said “ As you're aware I have my plans about how Hogwarts should be run , I have a detailed strategy and I plan to implement it as soon as possible .. so what I'm really asking is are you with me or against me because I have no intention of being held back”.

Y/n blinked rapidly .. she was unable to process what he was saying , how could he be so smug thinking he had headmaster place secured already. “ Fuck sake Draco, ok first that wasn’t really posed as an option now was it ?, also enough with belief that its your divine right to just be appointed as headmaster! What makes you think that if you somehow are the headmaster I will just bend at your will? Pathetic!” She scoffed into her drink. Draco began to stifle a laugh “ Ah you do amuse me y/n”, look I'm willing to let you have some creative control … only if you prove to me how badly you so desire it”. His suggestive smile sent shivers up y/n. “Fuck you Malfoy” she hissed and jolted from her seat, once she reached the door she rattled the doorknob but to no avail the door wouldn’t budge. “Open it now” she demanded . Draco slowly sauntered towards her and leant across the door “hmm I thought you liked a challenge .. guess I was wrong this will be no fun after all ” Draco was indeed correct Y/n did enjoy a challenge and he’d be gravely mistaken if he thought she would let him get away without putting up a fight”.

Something switched in Y/n she turned to face Draco who was only inches away. He towered over her with his svelte frame encased in an all black suit. ‘Is this what you want Draco hmm” she said in a sultry tone whilst hooking her finger into his belt loop pulling him closer. You want me to beg ..or would you rather me on my knees .. better yet I could be a good girl and just bend over that desk right now and let you have your way if thats what you want” . Draco's breathing was now laboured within seconds he had pulled y/n in by the waist flipped her round having her pressed against the door, his body weight up against her and his hand holding her arms in place on the door. Y/n could feel the stiffness of his impressive length against her derrière. With a shallow gasp he breathed dangerously close to her ear “ be careful what you wish for ms Y/L/N , I don’t take too kindly to false promises as I always get what I want” . With that he tossed her around to face him .Y/n was now panting her body was burning in desire she wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees there and then. No wonder Astoria was attached to his hip.. if this was anything to go off.

Y/n bit her lip she felt dizzy with emotions . Draco stood before her with a devious smile , his hands soon intertwining at her waist and face buried in her décolleté littering it with kisses making his way down to her ample bosom. Y/n couldn’t help but throw her head back in delight eliciting a small moan. That only became fuel for Draco as he hoisted her leg from the floor and wrapped it around him. It was then Y/n felt a vibration from the opposite side of the door., as if someone had knocked from the outside . It was then followed by a mousy ‘ Dray , are you in there’. Draco paused for a moment grip still tight on y/n. “What is it I'm having a business meeting , i'll be out shortly don’t hover ”. It was clear who it was… the pair unraveled themselves from one another quickly smoothing out clothing and rejigging themselves. ‘Ok let us” let me stop you Draco, Y/n interrupted pressing her finger against his lips to audibly shush him. “ As if you think id let this happen you think you get to fuck me then you do as you please and I a dutiful little lap dog . Pfffft what a joke like it or not I'm going to be your boss so the only way I'm fucking you is in the more figurative sense , now you better hurry up don’t want to keep your fiancé waiting or Is it wife hmmm”. With a quick flick from her wand she sent the door swinging open and promptly stormed out.

The day had finally arrived the great hall of Hogwarts was alive with the buzz of chatter. The sizeable table at the forefront of the hall hosted all the teachers and most importantly both Draco and y/n. Dumbledore made his way to the podium, he produced his wand and placed it at the base of his neck it acted as a megaphone propelling his voice across the hall. “Everybody if I may have your attention please.” The chatter soon died down and everyone eagerly cast their eyes on him. “ Right, I shan’t keep you in suspense anymore , it is time to announce your new headmaster & deputy ’. Both Draco and y/n fidgeted in their seats after all these months of rivalry it had boiled down to this. “ Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Ms y/n y/l/n your new headmaster !” Boomed Dumbledore. .Y/N shrieked she was giddy with excitement she couldn’t believe she had actually done it. Everyone around her broke out into wild applause there were whistles and jeers laughter overall excitement. She was being ushered by the surrounding teachers to get up to the podium to make a speech. As she was making her way she cast eyes on Draco, there he stood paler than usual and unresponsive he was there physically but not mentally his carcass stood stationary unable to ingest the news he had just been fed.

The days rolled into weeks weeks rolled into months and y/n had almost completed a whole term at Hogwarts. All was going swimmingly and albeit begrudgingly Draco was in-fact a great support on her journey. It was the last night of term and y/n sat a her desk pondering over a mountain of papers. Y/n sighed and cradled her head in her hands , she was exhausted she spent all her time dedicated to the role that she forgot to take time out for herself. There was a knock at the door “Come in” she yelled out. Draco's head emerged around the door. ‘

Oh hey you , come in come in” ushering him to the desk. ‘Oh dear , sucks to be you , regretting the position of power now?” Draco chuckled menacingly. “Ha ha very funny” she uttered dryly. “Anyway , some of the other teachers are going out for drinks but I can see you are busy” said Draco eyeballing the mountains of paper. “Yeah.. I afraid I am , but you enjoy yourself Draco have a drink for me and i'll see you next term” she smiled warmly at him. Draco locked eyes on her , hands stuffed in his pocket he began to fidget. “In all honesty I'm not the fondest of all the people going .. also Id much rather not be at home ..before you laugh or probe why just don’t because I won’t go into it but I can’t bare to spend another moment longer with …her .. so umm yeah , I can help you out here then say you make it up to me buying me a drink later?”

Y/n smirked “You’re quite then enigma aren’t you Draco ..? He raised his eyebrows at her in acknowledgement. “Fine , id appreciate that very much but I am rather tired so if it's not beneath you I can offer you a drink at mine ..”. His eyes flickered up to meet hers , stifling a smile . “Id like that ..”he said softly , ‘well then , let's get to work” y/n smiled. Draco and y/n worked through the night it was filled with chatter and laughter they felt at ease with one another. Once they finished up the momentum continued on at y/ns house. Copious amounts of fire whiskey later they found themselves delving into deeper topics having more in-depth conversations and discovering more about one another. Draco's whole demeanour was very relaxed and this was foreign to y/n. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and tie loosened. ‘You know .. you're an alright person not that much of a pain in my arse surprisingly” Draco chuckled swigging another mouthful of whiskey. “Well thats rich” laughed y/n.

“Right well I've really enjoyed this but its getting late , I can barley keep my eyes open … earlier you mentioned you didn't want to go back so .. you're more than welcome to stay …. Only if you want”. Rattled by the kind gesture he smiled affectionately. Stumbling over his words “umm yeah , thank you y/n you’ve exceeded your generosity let me at least grab us coffee for the morning then. “Sounds like a plan , hopefully you won’t find me a pain in the arse again come morning ”. With a cackle Y/n got up from the couch and showed Draco to the spare room. Once at the door she began to wish him a goodnight. As he went to hug y/n his lips grazed her cheek. Y/n suddenly recoiled , a silence loomed over them as they gazed at one another the emotions of that night in Draco's office flooding back. Y/n could feel the heat surging in her cheeks so she hastily wished him a good night and scurried to her room. Once in the shelter of her room she let out a sigh of relief. She knew it was the right thing to do but my how she craved him.

Draco burst through the door making a beeline for Y/N. He took her into his arms and kissed her with an insatiable hunger. Backing her into the wall he began to rid her of her clothing . Y/n hands clambered at his chest to do same however he abruptly stopped her “ Oh no you don’t , you think I forgot about that little stint in my office huh ? Well I didn't and I've been awaiting the day I get to fuck you senseless Ms y/n … you control me all day and now its y turn to control you .. you will do everything I say do you understand” . Enthralled by his dominance Y/n nodded enthusiastically. “Sorry I didn't hear you “ roared Draco grabbing her face towards his. “Yes who”. “Yes Draco” she moaned . “You can do better than that dear yes who, i'll only ask you one more time or i'll have bent over my knee.. so what will it be?” . “Yes … daddy “ she muttered bashfully. “Thats my girl” he bellowed. He grabbed her and thrust her onto the bed , he unfastened his tie and instructed her to lift her hands above her head. Y/n did as commanded. He bound her wrists up and hooped them over the bed post. “Now, I'm going to have my way with you and you don’t get to touch me understood!” ‘Yes daddy y/n whimpered” “ahh what a good girl you are, ugh the things I'm going to do to you”. Y/ns eyes winded in desire, Draco shimmied y/ns shirt up and instructed her to bite down using it as a makeshift gag. He suddenly began to kiss her lower abdomen slowly sliding off her trousers.

Y/n titled her hips aiding him in taking them off. Draco's eyes lit up upon the discovery of her not wearing any undergarments “oh so you were anticipating me you filthy slut” Draco chuckled darkly’. He teased and taunted kissing her inner thighs only grazing her sex, this drove y/n crazy her body craved him inside her. Draco finally delicately licked a strip against her folds causing her body to crumble at the slightest of his touch. His warm moist tongue began frantically massaging her causing her to rive in ecstasy . His tongue began to vibrate excitedly against her clitoris sending shock waves through her entire body , she bucked her hips in excitement unable to keep her composure as Draco's tongue fixated on lapping up the one spot that drove her insane. Y/n was close he was relentless with his tongue against her swollen bud , just as she was about to finish Draco withdrew. Y/ns face fell in disgust just as she was about complain he plunged his fingers deep inside her ..pumping rhythmically y/ns juices coated his fingers . His other hand sloped around her neck , eventually this caused her to release all over his hand. Draco's pupils now engulfed his eyes …he was enthralled in pleasure watching her crumble for him . “ Aren’t you a good girl , snarled Draco “squirting for daddy , whilst I love it I don’t recall giving you permission to” .y/n squirmed overcome with pleasure unable to respond.

He unhooked her and brought her to her knees. He ripped her shirt from her mouth and produced his veiny throbbing cock dripping with pre cum. Y/n gasped in astonishment and eagerly attempted to take him all in her mouth bobbing her head enthusiastically until her jaw ached and eyes began to stream. He hurled his head back in pleasure as her tongue gently caressed his pulsating tip. “Ugh yeah just like that baby “ he muttered .

Without warning y/n sucked on the tip with vigour. Draco let out a ferocious moan whilst grabbing y/ns hair fashioning it into a ponytail attempting to make her glide her tongue down the rest of his shaft. He couldn’t have her do that for too long as he surely would finish in her mouth. “You filthy filthy girl “ he beamed as he pulled her off his cock . Rocking her head back spiting in her mouth. He brought yn to her feet and began kissing her deeply interlocking his tongue with hers , she yearned so badly to touch him to feel her skin against his. “ Get over here , I want you leant over this bed frame whilst I fuck you .. I'm going to cum on that pretty pussy then I'm going to put it back in understand!” Firmly instructed Draco . “Yes daddy” that’s my girl he cooed. Draco teasingly stroked his member against her entrance this sent shock waves through y/n causing her to gyrate in hopes he would slip in. Draco caught onto this and his hand came down harshly on her derrière .y/n let out a gasp. “Don’t be greedy now” he laughed tightening his makeshift restraints on her wrists. Relentless with his teasing it was a shock to y/n when Draco abruptly pushed into her. Y/n was in euphoria as was Draco as the warmth of her walls swaddled his manhood.

Draco slammed into y/n her body rattling with pleasure, just then Draco felt himself out to release .. so true to his word he instructed y/n to lay on her back so he could empty his contents onto her. He threw his head back in jubilation upon release. As he went to enter her again this time her was slower much more gentle taking y/n into his arms. “How do you want me to finish you off baby?,like this or I could use my fingers?” Y/n shuddered remembering the bliss she was in from his lengthy fingers so it would be a no brainer to opt for them “Fingers please daddy” she uttered softly.

He untangled himself from her stood up and offered his hand . Taking her across the room he sat down in-front of the floor length mirror instructing y/n to sit in between his legs. “If its fingers you was then its fingers you’ll get but your gonna have to watch me”. His large hand sloped up her neck tenderly chocking her whilst his other massaged at her slit . Y/n was still dripping from earlier so it was light work for him to imbed his fingers into her. Y/n couldn’t take it the combination of Draco's fierce unwavering gaze in the mirror and the sheer bliss she felt with her legs quaking she soon released decorating the mirror in-front her. “Ugh your amazing baby” he beamed kissing her forehead gracefully. “Here let's get you cleaned up and we can cuddle in bed”. “Oh my … I didn't peg you as a cuddling type Draco” y/n laughed gingerly attempting to get up her legs still trembling beneath her. “Shut up you” he scolded “when will you learn there’s a lot you still don’t know about me y/n”.

164 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 4 years ago

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Second Year

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

//-//

You missed the train in your second year.

You and Tony overslept after staying up late watching a television series, and Jarvis mentioned that he had to pick up some packages from your father at the Ministry of Magic, so he wasn't home to wake you up or take you two to the station.

It was already half past eleven when you both woke up.

"You lost your mind." You said to your brother as you watched him put your school luggage into the trunk of the muggle car your father had bewitched. Tony laughed, ignoring your protests.

"We can drive there, and then I'll charm the car to come back. No one will know."

"We could wait for Jarvis to come back too." You retort but Tony denies it.

"Jarvis will be at Mystery all day, you know how bureaucratic these orders from daddy are." He argues. "Come on, it'll be all right."

Things were not all right.

Tony couldn't control the car after you guys arrived on the Hogwarts grounds, since the magical barrier destabilized the entire muggle structure of the vehicle.

"That shouldn't happen." He grumbled as the car began to vibrate and its image became almost frosted before it returned to normal.

"Tony, we're falling." You said, and your brother tried to pull the steering up, but the car did not obey.

A loud noise later, and you two landed hard against a tall tree. The Whomping Willow.

"I should have known that the Starks would think they can do anything in this school." Said Professor Erik Lehnsherr as soon as you were rescued from the top of the Willow, and taken to Principal Harkness' office.

"We're sorry, Professor Lehnsherr" You asked while your brother just clenched his jaw at the provocation. You nudged him in the ribs and he crossed his arms, apologizing afterwards.

"Sorry I'm late Erik, we're having some problems in the greenhouses" Principal Harkness said as she entered the room, she smiled at you and your brother, her posture was friendly and good humored, very different from the other man in front of you. "What was the immeasurable problem that you mentioned?" she scoffed lightly and Erik cleared his throat before speaking.

"The Stark siblings arrived at the castle in a magically enchanted muggle car, Headmistress." He narrated and Agatha blinked in surprise. "They broke at least three hundred laws of the institute of International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and on top of that, they caused the damage to the Whomping Willow, which has been at the school since before they were born!"

"Wow, that's pretty serious." Commented the teacher, and Erik frowns in surprise at her tone. "Tell me, what spell did you use?"

Tony blinked in confusion, the principal was not angry. She was just curious. Before he could answer, however, Professor Erik let out an exclamation.

"Agatha, they broke the law and..."

"Are you the principal, Erik?"

"I... No, but..."

"That's what I thought." She interrupts with a sharp smile. "Give them some punishment, I don't know, a month's detention, those things we do here."

"Agatha, I think..."

"That's all, Erik, thank you."

Professor Lehnsherr looked as shocked as you. The principal waved with a smile at you as you left the room in company with the professor.

"Starting tomorrow, boy, you will be in detention with me every day." Announced Erik sternly to his brother. "And you, girl, I will discuss the conditions of your punishment with the head of your house and you can be sure I will tell him everything that happened in that garden."

You and Tony swallowed dryly, intimidated by the menacing posture of the adult in front of you.

"To your dorms immediately." He ordered, and you walked side by side to the stairwell.

//-//

"I can't believe you did that!" Gamora impressedly remarked as soon as you joined her at the Slytherin table the next day, Nebula and Mantis by her side.

"Everyone is talking about it now." Nebula added as she ate some cereal. You felt your cheeks heat up as you looked around. There really were curious looks being cast at you.

"It was an accident." You said. "The car wasn't supposed to break down."

"It was dangerous and irresponsible." Rebutted Nebula without looking at you. "Typically Gryffindor, so my opinion is that you are walking around with Quill too much."

You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly.

"Hey, soon I'm going to start thinking you're from Slytherin, punk." Announced Tony as he approached the table, Steve and Bucky behind them.

"You wish." You teased lightly. Noticing the quidditch uniforms, you bit the inside of your cheek. "Do you have practice now?"

"No, we' re just going to play a little bit." He says. "There's really nothing to improve here."

Steve and Bucky laugh at Tony's cocky statement, and you roll your eyes, smiling a little.

"You're so full of yourself, aren't you, Tony?" Steve says afterwards.

" That''s just facts." He retorts, reaching out to steal one of your toasts. "See you later, kid."

After they leave, Gamora looks at you.

"Did you tell him you're going to try out for the team?"

"No." You reply with a chuckle. "I want it to be a surprise."

//-//

The following week, tryouts for the quidditch team were being held at the stadium, and all the team captains, including the Flight teacher, James Rhodes, were present.

He arranged the students in rows, and when Steve Rogers saw you he smiled encouragingly, waving. Tony walked over to you, equally excited.

"Pesty, why didn't you tell me you were going to take the test?" He asked as he hugged you quickly, and you felt your cheeks heat up as your classmates looked at you two with curiosity.

"It was a surprise." You retorted smiling and Tony messed up your hair before walking back with the other captains.

"We'll start with trios among everyone, and then separate you by houses." Announced Professor Rhodes with a smile. "Good luck everyone."

Your first trio were two students from Gryffindor that you didn't know. You would have liked to have taken the test with Peter, but he took the test with Pietro Maximoff, who had a wicked grin on his face, and almost knocked Peter off his broomstick when they were flying together. You grimaced angrily, and Wanda Maximoff glared back at you, as if daring you to do something against her brother. You rolled your eyes, and tried to pay attention to your own test.

"Hey, could you try to stop that bludger for me to throw?" Asked the short boy who was from the trio you were facing. He was from Hufflepuff, and his name was Peter Parker, but you actually never met him, and you only knew his name because the blond Ravenclaw girl in the stands was cheering him on.

"Sure, i got it." You said waiting for the bludger to arrive. You blinked in surprise when the object changed course in the air. The bludger wasn't going to mess up your test, or hit any of your friends, but on that course, it was going to hit Pietro right in the back. You sighed, hesitating. Then you shouted, "Yoy, Maximoff, look out!"

Pietro blinked in surprise at your warning, and managed to duck at the last second. You didn't look at him again.

Next, your partner was Peter Quill, thank goodness. He smiled charmingly at you riding beside him, and you nudged him slightly.

You were going up against two other students who looked older, but neither you nor Peter were intimidated.

"Come on brat, you don't want to embarrass your brother, do you?" taunted one of the boys as you prepared to hit back the bludger coming from Pietro's direction. You barely thought about it, and shot back, hitting the boy who had provoked you right in the chest.

He let out a sharp exclamation of pain, and fell backward. You blinked in fright, and dove in with the broom, grabbing him by the cape just moments before he hit the ground. You let go of him next, the boy had a pained expression as he massaged your chest. But he looked annoyed at you next.

"Pay attention to your surroundings." Said someone next to you. You looked up to notice Professor Rhodes looking at the two of you seriously. You swallowed dryly, flying away afterwards.

You made it to the Hufflepuff team. Your brother smiled contentedly, waving to you as he greeted Wanda, who also made the Slytherin team.

After the Quidditch tryouts, you had a few classes, and then your first detention.

You were going to help the elves with the castle services, and were almost glad to know that you didn't get the same detention as Tony: cleaning the greenhouse.

In the second week, one of the elves asked you to seek a special concoction from Professor Lehnsherr, so you walked to the potions room.

"I am so disappointed with you, girl." You heard a male voice say from inside the room, the door ajar. For some reason, you hesitated to enter. "I told you before, you can't lose control. That puts everything at risk."

"I'm sorry, papa." Mumbled a female voice, almost tearful. "It won't happen again."

You raised your hand to knock, not wanting to be nosy. But the door opened in front of you. Professor Erik Lehnsherr had his hand outstretched in the air, and you swallowed dryly, feeling your cheeks flush.

"What do you want?" he asked angrily and you shifted your weight between your feet, recognizing Wanda in the room.

"S-sorry to interrupt professor." You said. "I am looking for the cleansing potion for the elves. You know, for my detention."

Erik let out an impatient sigh.

"Maximoff, you can go." He said to Wanda. She nodded, ducking her head as she turned around. She glanced quickly at you as she left, but looked away when you stared back at her.

You left the room several minutes later. A package with several potions in it lay on your arm.

Whistling softly, you tried not to be intimidated by the dank, dimly lit corridors of the dungeon, but you were quite disturbed when you heard a noise.

You bit your lip, deciding if it was worth investigating. Leaving the package in the corner of the hallway, you drew your wand, walking toward the metallic sound.

As you turned the corner, you froze. A few meters ahead of you in the hallway was a troll. Metal chains on its hands and feet, the sound of them echoing down the hall.

But he was quiet, practically motionless. His reddened eyes sent shivers through your body.

You looked down and gasped.

Wanda had her arms raised in the air, and you saw her standing behind the creature, red magic escaping from her hands.

"W-what?" you found yourself whispering in confusion and then the monster's eyes flashed and he roared, the sound echoing loudly in the halls.

Wanda fell to her knees next, her hands returning to normal. You moved as the monster reacted again, enraged.

He was slow, so you dodged his attack easily, turning around. Before you could cast any spells however, there was a magic field around the monster.

"Return to your dormitories immediately, girls." Ordered Professor Lehnsherr with his wand raised. "I will control the creature." He was facing the troll, focused on his containment spell. You were annoyed because he didn't even look at his daughter.

You ran to Wanda, helping her to her feet. She blushed at the gesture, then thanked you. You took one last look at the monster before walking out into the hall.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked once you and Wanda were alone.

"Yes, I... "She started and then widened her eyes, turning to you and pushing you by the shoulders. "You can't tell anyone what you saw!"

You frowned in confusion.

"Easy, there!" You exclaimed pushing her hands away, "You don't have to hit me."

Wanda sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"Just...please don't say anything to anyone." She ordered, in a much calmer tone now.

"Merlin, it's okay." You retorted putting your hands in your pockets. "I don't understand why you don't want to tell something this cool, but okay."

Wanda blinks in surprise.

"Cool?"

You smile shrugging your shoulders.

"Sure. You did magic without a wand, that's amazing."

Wanda looks after you for a moment, her cheeks reddening.

"Don't you think it's scary?" She asks and you frown.

"What, of course not!" you assure her. "You can make as many pranks as you want and no one will ever prove you did it."

Wanda smiles shyly at your joke, and then looks away.

"I promise I won't say anything, Wanda." You tell her and she sighs, nodding.

"Do you have any idea where the troll came from?

"No." She says. "I was walking back to my dorm, and I ran into him. There was no one else in the hallway."

You make an understanding noise with your mouth, not quite understanding how the creature escaped from the castle dungeons.

You walk in silence to the corridor leading to the Slytherin dormitory.

"Well, here we are... I'll see you tomorrow" You say half-heartedly. Wanda smiles as she waves goodbye and you walk back to your common room.

None of you notice the figure hidden between the shadows and the purple light around the walls.

//-//

You begin to notice new things after your short conversation with Wanda.

The way the students at school talk about her is one of these things.

In a single day, you hear at least ten cruel comments about how quiet, mysterious and scary Wanda was. A lot of people at school thought that she and Pietro were some kind of evil twins, because nobody ever saw their mother, and there were rumors that maybe Professor Erik Lehnsherr had made them in one of his cauldrons.

You didn't tell your friends what you saw that day, but you tried to bring up on the rumors you heard, and Gamora let out a giggle.

"People make a lot of things up here" she said while you were in pairs in Herbology class. "As far as I know, the Maximoff's mother is a muggle and that's why so many people in our house treat her that way."

You couldn't tell why these things were bothering you, since Wanda wasn't even your friend, but you guessed it was because you had always learned to hate the whole blood purity thing, since your father was a pureblood, but he married a muggle, and suffered a lot of hatred from the witch community that called him a blood traitor for years. You had a certain natural sympathy for Wanda now.

When Halloween came around, you ate too much candy, and your stomach hurt. All your friends were the same, and you decided to bet on a ghost race, a mixture of catch one, catch all and hide-and-seek through the castles.

You were being the ghost when you saw Peter Quill sneaking down one of the corridors, and you rushed to follow him, but then you heard a whistle, and you stumbled to hide quickly, and ended up falling on someone.

"Sor-Wanda!" You started to apologize but when you realized who you had bumped into, you exclaimed the witch's name awkwardly. "S- sorry" You hurried to say, feeling your face flush when you noticed her gaze on you. You stood up quickly, reaching out your hand to help her up. "Everything okay?"

"S-sure." She said smiling, and then she looked down. Your hands were still together and you quickly let go as soon as you noticed, feeling your face heat up.

"Err... you didn't see a Gryffindor boy walking by here did you?" You asked trying to lighten the mood, and looking around."I'm playing Ghost Race."

"This is a children game." She teased with a smile and you looked at her in surprise, blushing even more.

"I... I’m...."

"I'm just messing with you."

"Oh, right." You sigh laughing lightly as Wanda follows you. The sound of her laughter makes your stomach turn, and you don't understand why, so you clear your throat and say you needed to get back to your friends.

"See you around, Hufflepuff." She says as she says goodbye. You try to focus on finding Peter after that.

//-//

Quidditch is as fun as it is stressful.

You eventually discover that Steve Rogers was extremely competitive when playing against your brother.

Slytherin's game with Hufflepuff was scheduled in three weeks, and he was already making the whole team practice the rehearsed plays daily.

After another exhausting practice, you sighed as you flew toward the empty bleachers, four seats occupied only by your friends.

"Do you have to chew so loudly?" Complained Nebula to Peter Quill as he ate a piece of apple pie that he probably saved from lunch. The boy made a face, shrugging.

"I can't wait until we can go to Hogsmeade." Gamora commented a moment later. "We saw the third year kids go out last weekend, when you were playing explosive snap with all those older gang."

You smiled as you took off your Quidditch gloves.

"That "gang" are Tony's friends, Gamora." You explained and the girl shrugged, looking almost jealous that you had other friends, making you smile.

"That Romanoff is scary." Mantis added and your friends nodded, making you laugh.

"Natasha may seem threatening when you first meet her, but I assure you she is a sweetheart." You hit back and then steal one of the mini apple pies that Quill brought. "By the way, I wanted to invite you guys over for Christmas. Tony is calling all his friends."

Mantis and Quill seem excited about the invitation, but Nebula and Gamora exchange a look.

"Look, I'm happy with the invitation, I really am." Gamora began. "But we can't accept it."

You look at them with confusion, finding it amusing in the seriousness.

"Why not, girls?"

"It's just... Your family..." Gamora mumbles trying to find the right words.

"They are blood traitors." Nebula adds seriously. Quill and Mantis both widen their eyes, and Gamora lowers her gaze in shame. You feel your stomach turn in irritation.

"I beg your pardon?" you retort angrily, but Gamora puts her hand on her sister's forearm, asking her to shut up.

"We like you, Y/N, you are our friend." She says. "But our father, he would never allow us to go to Howard Stark's house, not after what he did."

You let out a short laugh.

"And what exactly he did?" you retort, already gathering your gloves and broom from the bench. "What a horrible crime to fall in love with someone isn't it?"

"Please, we didn't mean to upset you..." Gamora starts but you huff in irritation, riding the broom.

"I can't believe you were thinking that about me and my family all this time." You interrupted angrily, shaking your head in disbelief. You flew away the next moment, toward the ground, intending to return to the castle.

//-//

You hadn't talked to Gamora and Nebula for a week. It was weird eating at the Hufflepuff table again, but at least Mantis and Groot kept you company. Quill seemed torn about choosing a side, but you teased him that he could stay with his girlfriend without thinking that you would no longer be friends, and he turned red as he walked over to the Slytherin table for coffee.

At the weekend, the quarterfinal game of the Quidditch championship took place, and you could barely eat properly at breakfast in anticipation.

Mantis wasn't much into quidditch, but she dressed in your house colors and knitted a little yellow sweater for Groot as well.

"Ready to play with me, kid?" Teased Tony as soon as you stepped onto the field, the Slytherin team on the opposite side. You smiled confidently, nodding.

"Attention, players, I want a fair game." Warned Professor Rhodes, who was also the judge of the match. "Mount your brooms and ascend into the air please."

In the air, your gaze met Wanda's, and you smiled slightly, but she just glanced away, appearing upset. You didn't understand why, but you didn't really have time to ask.

And then the whistle for the start of the match sounded.

Being a beater was especially tricky on cloudy days, because you couldn't see the ball clearly with the dark background of the sky, but you had enchanted your glasses before you set up, so you were doing a decent job.

It was during the second half match that you almost died.

Loki Odinson was the seeker, and he was almost reaching for the golden snitch when you looked at him. Your job as a beater was to keep the bludger away from your teammates, and to precisely prevent Loki from catching the snitch. You aimed the bludger at Loki's broomstick, to destabilize him, and it worked. But he didn't take it very well.

Flying toward Erik Killmonger, the Slytherin beater, he grabbed the stick out of the boy's hand, and glared at you angrily before firing the incoming bludger right at you.

You managed to dodge it for a second, frowning as you looked back at Loki. But he had a mean look on his face, and before you could understand what happened, something hit you hard in the head, and you fell off the broom.

As you fell, your eyes grew heavy, and the last thing you saw were emerald eyes, accompanied by Tony's scream.

//-//

Your head hurt a lot when you woke up in the nurse's office.

Healer Cho smiled gently at you when she gave you some water as soon as she noticed that you had woken up.

And then you noticed the other curious faces around you.

"Will she get a cool scar?" Quill asked excitedly only for Gamora to slap his arm next.

You fiddled uncomfortably with the bandage on your head. Tony looked at you worriedly.

"Damn it, don't ever do something like that again." He complained and you looked at him with confusion.

"It was your mate who shot the ball at me." You retorted and he sighed.

"Yeah, Loki is an idiot." He retorted angrily. "If Thor hadn't interfered, I would have broken his nose."

Then you found out that as soon as you fell, the game was stopped and everyone went down to the field. Tony tried to fight with Loki, but Thor stopped him, and all the teams almost started beating each other. You were taken to the nurse, and Professor Rhodes disqualified the Slytherin because Loki used non-verbal magic to bewitch the bludger to attack you. Even though you were angry, you were impressed that a twelve year old boy could do such advanced magic.

"Good thing Wanda reached you before you fell." Tony added after telling all. You felt your face heat up, and Gamora noticed and looked at you curiously. You decided to change the subject quickly.

"What are you two doing here anyway?" You asked snidely looking at them. "Since when do the health of blood traitors matter to you?"

Tony blinks in confusion, but Gamora takes a step to the side of your bed.

"We wanted to apologize for that." She says. "Our father is the one who thinks those things, okay? You're our friend, and we don't think that of you. Or your family"

You looked away from Gamora to her sister. Nebula nodded in agreement a moment later, and you bit one inside cheek before sighing.

"Right." You said trying to smile. "Can I go back to eating with you two then?"

Gamora laughed, agreeing. When you tried to laugh, your head hurt and your exclamation of pain attracted Tony's attention.

"You know what, I forbid you to play Quidditch forever."

"Shut up, you idiot." You retort, smiling.

//-//

Thanos won't let Gamora and Nebula spend Christmas with you, but that's okay. You ask Iron to deliver the gifts to her house with the pseudonym "Apple Pie" in the name, and received their response in thanks a few days later.

All of Tony's friends come to your house during the holiday.

Bucky goes on a joke saying that his brother spread all those mistletoes around to get some action, but you don't understand what he means.

There is a new kid named Sam Wilson in your brother's group of friends, and he becomes one of your favorite people quickly. He is very funny, and makes everyone laugh during dinner.

Quill almost knocks the tree to the ground when Bucky agrees to charm his shoes to fly, and everyone laughs when he gets hung up on the decorations.

Your father arrives just before you cut up the turkey.

He is covered in soot, and looks exhausted. But he smiles and kisses you and Tony on the forehead, saying he will clean himself up before joining you.

"Can the little guy eat food?" Howard asks when Groot walks around the table. Mantis seems shy about explaining anything to your father, making you chuckle.

During the gift exchange, you giggle when Tony and Bucky start playing wrestling and Bucky miscalculates the punch time and hits your brother in the nose, who behaves like a crying baby, even though he has no mark on his face.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face on the carpet in the living room next to all your friends.

Without having any clue about the worried look your father exchanges with Jarvis a moment after everyone falls asleep in the living room.

//-//

When you return to Hogwarts, there are many new announcements on the bulletin board that catch your attention.

You are not sure if you will really have the time, but decide to sign up for the dueling club with your friends.

This is how you end up in the main hall after the last potions period. The wooden tables had disappeared, and in the center you would find a large golden stage. Professor Stephen Strange was beckoning students to spread out across the room when you arrived.

"Come on dear, come closer" Professor Stephen asked the crowd, standing on the stage. "Can you all see and hear me? Good."

Professor Stephen spent the next five minutes explaining that the club was back in activity after some teachers had talked with Principal Harkness, and also spoke about the basic rules for participating and dueling correctly. Soon the students were all divided into pairs. As the crowd organized itself, you noticed the Maximoff brothers in the back of the room, and you looked away quickly when Gamora, who was your partner, caught you staring.

"Let's practice the disarm spell." Announced Stephen next.

It was easy because you already knew. Your father, in the few moments he was home, taught defensive magic to you and Tony. Spells were not your brother's strong suit, but he didn't mind helping you practice.

Gamora smiled impressed when you approached her to demonstrate correctly how to make the movement with the wand.

Your colleagues, however, didn't seem to be making much progress, so the teacher interrupted their practice with a whistle.

"I will demonstrate how to use the disarm spell correctly." He says as he takes the stage again. You exchange a look with Gamora when by your proximity, you hear him mutter that if the students paid attention to his lessons they would know how to duel correctly. "Please, Erik, could you assist me with this lesson?"

Professor Lehnsherr had been quiet throughout the practice, watching the students from afar. He did not smile as he walked on stage, his silver wand in his hand.

"Pay attention, please." Strange asked noticing the buzz that arose as soon as Erik took the stage. "Thank you, Erik."

The two professors got into a dueling position, and then Professor Stephen made a motion with his wand. A white glow escaped through the air towards the other man, but Erik made a quick movement with his own wand, and it was as if he absorbed the spell. You recognized the blocking spell easily.

"It is important that you know how to defend spells during a duel." Professor Stephen then spoke, smiling quickly at Erik, who did not reciprocate. "That could save your lives in a situation where you don't know which spell has been cast on you.

"It might be wise to teach the students some counter attack spells, Professor Strange." Added Erik with a slight challenge in his voice. Professor Strange didn't seem to mind however, smiling at the crowd.

"Great idea, Erik!" he said putting away his wand. "I need two volunteers, please."

A lot of people raised their hands, making Strange give a chuckle.

"I think it's best to choose students who won't turn the other one into a frog during the duel, professor." Lehnsherr commented bitterly, and Stephen sighed, running his gaze around. He smiled when he looked at you.

"Stark, would you like to join in?" He asked gently, and you felt your cheeks flush as all eyes in the room went to you. Nodding shyly, you stepped onto the stage. "Who could your opponent be..."

"May I suggest someone from my own house, professor?" Interrupted Erik next, and without waiting for an answer, he turned around, "Wanda, come up here please."

The crowd erupted in hubbub as soon as the words echoed in the hall. But Wanda didn't hesitate, rushing to obey. You swallowed dryly, stepping forward.

"Great girls, let's start then." Said Professor Stephen smiling standing between you and Wanda. You didn't understand why she was looking at you so seriously. "Let's try the finite Incantatem, shall we?"

You and Wanda nod in agreement and the professor smiles, patting you two on the back to get you moving.

When you reach the dueling position, you raise your wand and wait for the teacher's order.

Wanda attacks first when he signals. And you just defend, which makes Professor Stephen give a little smile.

"Stark, remember to counter attack instead of defend, okay?" He asks and you nod, ignoring the stares at you. Wanda has a neutral expression as you get into a dueling position again.

A bright red spell comes at you as Wanda attacks again, and you have a second to think about fighting back, but hesitate, blocking it again. The crowd lets out a chorus of disappointment.

Professor Stephen looks ready to say something, but it is Erik's voice that fills the room.

"The Stark girl is clearly hesitating to fight back the spell, Professor Strange." He says, and you feel your cheeks heat up, looking down at the floor. "Perhaps she should try to attack Wanda first instead."

Stephen exchanges a look with the other professor, and then turns his head toward you.

"Is it okay if we do it this way, Stark?"

You glance at Wanda quickly before nodding, feeling very nervous all of a sudden. "Let's get started then."

Raising your wand again, you take a deep breath. Wanda also gets into a dueling position, her eyes watching your movements. You swallow dryly, and think of the least offensive spell you know. And you say the words.

Nothing happens.

Your wand lets out a small golden sparkle, and you frown in confusion. Some of your classmates laugh, believing that you have failed to cast a simple spell, and you feel your face heat up.

"I..." You start to say, wanting to apologize.

Professor Lehnsherr steps forward next to his daughter, looking at you curiously, but his tone is severe when he says.

"Again."

You ignore the stares and try again. It doesn't work. Your wand simply doesn't obey you. Feeling frustrated, you repeat the spell again. And again, louder this time. Your classmates seem as curious as you are.

Professor Erik moves around the stage, stopping a few feet in front of you.

"Try it against me now."

"Professor, I don't..."

"Now."

You swallow dryly, and aim in his direction. Ignoring the tremor in your hands, you repeat the same incantation. The magic immediately escapes, the golden glow rushes forward. Erik blocks it masterfully. A mixed look of curiosity and displeasure.

You immediately lower your wand when he takes two steps toward you.

"I don't know what happened, professor." You begin to explain quickly. "I don't..."

"Erik." Warns Professor Strange placing himself in front of you. All eyes on the three of you. Professor Lehnsherr forces a smile, which brings chills down your entire spine.

"I'm just curious, Stephen." Said the other man, putting his wand away and raising his hand to smooth the professor's cloak in front of him. "Just innocent curiosity."

"Let's continue tomorrow night, please. " Professor Stephen announces in a loud voice afterwards. The students begin to move quickly in the hall. You want to ignore the feeling that everyone is talking about you as you come down from the stage. Your gaze immediately seeks Wanda, but she has her head down as she joins her brother, leaving the room quickly.

Gamora is very impressed when you join her.

//-//

"And then nothing came out of her wand!" Gamora told your friends impressed as soon as you were all together at breakfast.

You woke up feeling especially tired that morning, and were eating your cereal lazily.

"That's so weird." Nebula commented. "Do you have any idea why you can't bewitch Wanda?"

You deny it, eating a little. You got a lot of looks this morning, and you were getting pretty upset about the whole thing.

"Maybe it's because you like her." Gamora suggested a moment later, and you choked on your cereal.

After Mantis helped you, you took a deep breath, your cheeks flushed.

"Where did you get that from?" You asked annoyed.

"I just meant that you seem to like her." She said with an insinuating smile. "Like a friend."

Gamora's tone clearly suggested something more, and you grumbled, turning your attention back to your cereal.

When your friends began to theorize about what the whole thing could possibly mean again, you stopped paying attention.

//-//

Tony laughed when you told him.

"I've never heard of anything like that, kid." He said as he took the scarf off his neck and threw himself on the couch in common room.

Technically, you couldn't be here. But it wasn't like people respected those rules anyway.

You didn't come to the Slytherin common room much, because it was cold and empty, and Slytherin students weren't very welcoming to visitors.

But Tony had many different classes than you, so you would only find him in the commons room by the end of the day. After you dismissed a free-flying session with Quill, you went to tell him what had happened at that morning.

"If you had joined the club, you would have seen it." You said straightening your position on the leather couch. Tony laughed.

"As if I was going to be a part of that." He scoffs. "I hate charms, you know that."

"You know it's one of the most important subjects, right?" you retort wryly, and Tony shrugs.

"I won't need that when I study Magic Mechanics with Dad."

You sigh, not wanting to talk about it again. Tony wanted to be like your father. A respected mechanical witch inventor. You didn't like the idea because it meant that Tony would be as absent as your father.

"Hey, why don't you try to figure something out in the reserved session?" He suggested next and you looked at him wryly.

"You're an example of a brother, you know that?" you teased making him laugh.

"Hey, if you're careful, no one will know you were there." He retorted and you sighed thoughtfully. "If you get caught, I'll say I dared you to do it."

"I doubt it." You retorted with a smile.

Tony invites you to a game of wizard chess, but you tell him you need to get back to your dorm before some prefect comes to question you.

On the way out, you bump into someone who shouldn't be there either.

"Sorry." You say immediately, and Pietro looks at you curiously.

"Are you here to talk to Wanda?" He asks snidely, but although his tone is accusatory, his eyes are warm.

"What?" you reply confused, "No, I...I came to see my brother."

Pietro doesn't seem to believe you, crossing his arms.

"What's your deal with my sister, anyway?"

You frown in confusion.

"I don't know what you are talking about." You say uncomfortable with the conversation.

Pietro stares at you for a few seconds, and then his expression lightens quickly and he smiles amiably.

"I'm just messing with you, kiddo." He mocks. "By the way, I never thanked you for that day at the Quidditch test. If you hadn't warned me, I wouldn't have made it as a seeker."

You blink in confusion and then smile awkwardly.

"No problem, Maximoff."

You nod in farewell, walking back toward the Hufflepuff dormitory, not noticing that Pietro continues to stare at you until you turn the corner.

//-//

The next morning, after your spell class is over, you tell Mantis to go ahead, because you want to talk to the professor.

"This is about the dueling club, isn't it Stark?" Professor Strange asks abruptly still with his back to you as he fiddles with his desk before you say anything. He turns around then, his expression slightly concerned.

"I was just wondering if you have any idea why my magic didn't work, sir?" You say with your hands in your pockets. "Everyone at school is talking about it."

Stephen sighs, and he seems to hesitate about something. But then his expression softens, and he smiles.

"Don't worry about it so much, okay?" He says. "Maybe it's just the similarity of the core of your wands. If the material is the same, maybe your wands are sisters and won't harm each other."

You believe this for the first two seconds, but then frown.

"But Wanda was able to cast spells on me sir." You say and Stephen widens his eyes slightly, as if he has been caught lying. He clears his throat quickly, amiably smiling at you as he nudges you out of the room with him.

"I'm sure there's a good explanation for this, but I don't have the answers right now, Miss Stark." He says and you have a frown as he is turning around, walking away down the hallway. "See you next class!"

You sigh, realizing that maybe your best chance to know what happened is Professor Erik.

//-//

Your next potions class isn't until midweek, so you try to do a little research in the library as Tony recommended you to do.

There is almost no material on magic connections in the library's common session, and you figure it's because it's an advanced and dangerous kind of magic.

"You know you could end up expelled if you try to take anything from the restricted session, right?" Gamora comments as you are sitting in the library, dozens of books around you as she helps you investigate.

"I'll try for a permit first." You say with your face propped up in your hands. "If no teacher is going to tell me why this is happening, I'm going to have to figure it out on my own."

No teacher allows you into the restricted session. They justify that a second-year student has no reason to read such advanced magic, but you just feel that they all seem willing to stop you from finding out what is going on.

You plan to sneak in then. After the last period on Tuesday, and as soon as the library is empty, you ask Gamora to help you distract the librarian, and while she does so, you sneak between the shelves.

You look back to check that everything was all right as you enter, and almost fall backwards in fright when you bump into someone. Your heart races with fear when you observe Principal Harkness right in front of you, a curious look on your face.

"P-professor?" You exclaim. "I'm sorry! I was just..."

"Sneaking in." She completes with a smile. You feel your stomach sink, but the woman makes room for you to enter. "Come on honey, you don't need that. Make yourself at home."

You hesitate for a second, but then step forward, your curiosity for answers getting the best of you.

Following in the way the head master points, you end up deep in the library, many books you've never seen around you, their covers dark, and mystical, some of them moving on the shelves as if they were trying to break free.

"I heard about your little accomplishment at the dueling club." The principal comments beside you as you run your fingers through the covers. You shrug.

"Nobody wants to tell me what's going on."

"Does that make you angry, dear?"

You blink in confusion, looking at the woman behind you. She looks back as if she was evaluating you.

"N-no, professor." You say putting your hands in your pockets. "I'd just like to know what's happening."

Harkness blinks and then looks away. She makes a flick with her fingers, and there is a book flying toward you. It has a dark, medieval cover, and there is a magical shadow shrouding the entire book. It 's mainly scary.

"I found a lot of information about magic connection incantations, dear." She counters. "But it's nothing a second grade girl could understand, you know? Advanced magic for even the most experienced witches."

You frown, wanting to say that if she explained it properly, you could understand it perfectly, but being the director, you thought it best to just add:

"Please, professor. I just want to know what's going on."

Agatha smiles, and then puts the book back on the shelf, her eyes have a purple glow that makes your body chilly.

"Don't you understand, dear?" She starts by stooping down to your height, her hand caressing your cheek lightly. "You came in here, and flipped through the books. So many words you didn't know. You found nothing." She says and you see flashes in your head, her words taking shape like a memory. "And when you left, it just stopped being important."

Agatha smiles at you as she rests her hand on your shoulder for a moment, and you face her back. Giving her one last look, you walk in the direction you came from.

When you leave, you only remember what you have been allowed to.

//-//

In potions class, you feel a tingling behind your eyes when you see Professor Erik.

You have the feeling that you want to ask him something, but can't remember what it is.

Gamora mentions that maybe you wanted to know about what happened at the dueling club, but you smile as you deny it with your head, telling her that that story wasn't really that big of a deal.

She frowns slightly, but doesn't insist, believing that you had lost interest in the subject as well as the rest of the school.

//-//

You don't do very well on your Transfiguration test.

If you had to find an excuse, you would say that you haven't felt very well since the dueling club. Your magic has been difficult to shape and control. You don't want to think about it, though, so you just study until everything is back to normal again.

Professor Rocket gives you an "Acceptable" though, and you grumble slightly when the results arrive at your house during the vacations.

You write to your friends over the summer, sharing the results of your assessments. Gamora did well in everything, her grades as perfect as Nebula's. Mantis failed in Charms, but got Brilliant in Herbology, and surprised no one by that. Peter had at least three "troll" grades, and Gamora sent him a chocolate cake to make him feel better.

The week before last, there was a big commotion at the Ministry of Magic, and your father was away from home for three days.

Jarvis didn't let you and Tony run to hug him when he arrived, and before you could protest, you noticed that he had apparated in the house garden accompanied by two other wizards you didn't know.

No one seemed willing to tell you what was happening, and when the wizards left, your father locked himself in his office for the night.

Tony was very upset, and said he wanted to be alone in his room.

"Jarvis, will you tell me what's going on?" You asked the butler when he put you to bed, worried that you were going to stay up waiting for your father. Jarvis sighed, sitting up with you.

"Miss Y/N, there are many things that are not concerns for children." He begins, and you sigh impatiently. The man smiles gently at you. "It may not seem fair, but innocence is a privilege of the few."

"I just want to know why dad and Tony are upset." You complain with your arms crossed, not understanding the man's previous words. Jarvis fluffs your pillows, pulling the blanket to waist height. "Please, Jarvis, tell me."

The butler sighs.

"Just know that there are people in our world who don't have the best of intentions." He explains mysteriously, causing you to frown. "But that's not something for you to worry about, because the adults have taken care of everything. Now, go to sleep miss."

Jarvis reaches out to turn off your lamp next and stands up. You sit in the dark for many minutes before you decide to fall asleep.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandaxreader #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagines #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy #marvel imagines #wanda x yn #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

352 notes · View notes