#is definitely Something i just need to know what that something is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thevoidness · 14 hours ago

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✶ | adrian chase fluff alphabet

pairing: adrian chase x reader author's note: i've been having visions of domestic adrian. it was the damn robe. this is also a lil suggestive, be warned! minors dni!!

A for Admiration What Do They Absolutely Adore About You?

He could go on and on. He likes everything about you. But Adrian's absolute favorite would have to be the fact that you listen. Really listen.

You make an effort to learn how he communicates and understand it. He likes being understood. He likes that you don't cut him off. He likes that you know exactly when the awkward silence is ready to be filled.

It's actually a little unnerving for him, because at some point you'll know what he's going to say before he actually says it. And everything he says is usually treated as completely unhinged and unexpected. So, it's a little weird for him to be so thoroughly observed. He says you're a partial telepath, but you know he's just gotten a lot easier to read over the years.

B for Body What Is Their Favorite Part Of Your Body?

Your lips. Very kissable. He'd rate them a 10/10. He's staring very stupidly at them while you explain really important things, and waiting very intently for you to kiss him.

A close second would probably be your neck. It really gets him going emotionally and sexually that you'd gladly let him kiss and nip at the skin there. It's a thrill, because he can feel your pulse under his lips, and he could probably list off the number of vital blood vessels that run there. The trust there is the closest he'll ever get to experiencing the high people use drugs to get (because drugs are illegal, duh).

C for Cuddling How Do They Like To Cuddle? Little Spoon or Big Spoon?

There's no spooning. It's just a messy tangle of limbs. You always wake up holding him, while simultaneously being held. It's great, and it's just how you both like it.

He also likes using your ass like a pillow whenever you sleep on your stomach. I will not be elaborating...

D for Dates What Does Their Ideal Date With You Look Like?

Definitely nothing extravagant. Unless it's a very important day, you're probably hanging out in the Vigilante-mobile (he appreciates that you call it that) or at your apartment.

Good food and a mystery/crime show on is the perfect night. You're pausing every five minutes to have a whole discussion and share your theories. It always ends up with a full blown make out session on the couch or a cuddle in bed.

He'd also be into anything you feel like planning. A hike, a picnic, a dinner date, a night out, he's down for anything. If you want to try something completely new, he's down for that too. Even if he isn't, I think he'd pretend he is. He's very bad at pretending, though.

E for Emotions How Do They Express Emotion Around You?

He isn't very closed off, especially around you. Adrian likes to put a lid on his anger, but it's always painfully obvious when he's pissed off about something. You might have to coax these complicated feelings out of him, even if he thinks he needs to hide them.

He knows you can't read his mind, but you're really the closest thing to it. It truly amazes him how you can catch out the barest hint of emotion he's experiencing, just through his body language. It doesn't amaze you at all, because you know how long it's taken you to perfect reading his every move.

F for Family Do They Want One? If They Do, When?

Not anytime soon. He's fascinated with the idea of having the 'perfect' family, but the 11th street kids are pretty much it. He's a lot happier being someone's cool uncle than their shitty dad.

G for Gifts How Do They Feel About Gift Giving? What Are Their Habits With Gifts?

Small, meaningful gifts are his forte. Just like the crows do it, he'd say.

He picks shiny things up on patrol, when they remind him of you. He buys you the things you run out of quickly, when he's at the store. He doesn't really get why people like flowers, but the moment you tell him your favorite, he's buying a bunch whenever he sees them. He'll bring back little mementos from any major missions (but that's mostly a gift he gets himself, because he knows it'll lead to you to harping on about how proud you are of him).

H for Holding Hands When/How Do They Like To Hold Hands?

All the damn time, if he could. He's sneaky, too. He'll trick you into holding on and trap your hand in his for as long as he can. He won't let go until your hands are sweaty. Even then, it's because you've had to promise him you'd hold his hand again later, as well as physically had to pry your hand away.

I for Injury How Would They Act If You Got Hurt?

Concerned? Confused? A little disoriented? Adrian doesn't experience real, raw fear a lot. But when he thinks there might be the slightest chance he'd lose you, the bad thoughts are real and they're scary.

J for Jokes Do They Like To Joke Around With Or Prank You? How?

Yes, and his pranks are always either entirely too small or entirely too big. One day, he's sticking a feather in your shoe and laughing all day at your mildly annoyed expression. The other, he's calling your mother to tell her you're dead. Seriously, it's bad.

An intervention would have to be scheduled, and everyone within pranking vicinity of Adrian is more than happy to be a part of it. Chris leads it. You let him, because you don't want Adrian to be extra mad at you, and he's probably been the most affected by said pranks.

K for Kisses How Do The Like To Kiss You?

Sloppy, messy, freak nasty. I don't think he's aware another way to kiss actually exists. Adrian’s usually a clean person, but all of that goes out the window when you're making out. It isn't even something he does intentionally, he's just so lost in the way you taste. There's no control there. It’ll last until there’s spit all over your chin, practically running down your neck and the only reason he’s stopping is to take off his glasses and put them to the side because they’re so fogged up and he “can’t see you properly.”

He doesn't hold back at all, and he knows you like it.

L for Love Language How Do They Show They Love You?

ACTS OF SERVICE!!!! And quality time + physical touch.

He loves spending time with you. You could be doing absolutely anything in the world, and he'll be there just watching you do your thing. One time, he strolled into the bathroom while you were shaving and just sat there the whole time, on the bathroom floor. You were opposed to the idea, but he was being very entertaining, so you let it slide. There are no boundaries when there's a possibility he could be yapping it up with you.

Speaking of no boundaries, Adrian has his hands on you constantly. He doesn't care who's in the room doing what. He'll play around with your fingers, damn near put his nose in your hair, kiss your shoulder, or whatever else he feels like doing. It's just a bit of quiet reassurance he needs.

Adrian Chase is the king of acts of service!!! Besides the fact that he would literally murder a human being for you, he'd also dedicate his entire life to making you happy.

He breaks into your apartment routinely. Dishes? Done. Dinner? Ordered. Book shelf? Organized. Laundry? Clean and folded. Your pets and plants? Fed and watered. He really insists that you should just give him a key if you don't like your lock picked so much.

It doesn't stop at the lock-picking and house keeping, though. He writes very illegible love letters and leaves them around your room, and in many of your bags and back pockets. He offers you massages constantly. He fixes things around your apartment that you don’t even know are broken. He makes sure all of your wishes come true and your every desire is fulfilled. And he'd definitely hide a dead body for you.

I also think he's very good with money and incredibly determined to save up enough to be able to share a place with you, even though it'd probably take a couple of years.

M for Memory Favorite Memory Together?

Telling everyone you're together. It really didn't have to be an announcement, but you both made it into one anyway. He really likes his friends, and thinks highly of their opinion, so he'd be very happy to see them celebrate your relationship.

A favorite private moment of his would be getting ready for bed! He likes brushing his teeth alongside you, sneaking a kiss or two. Best believe he'll still be rambling on with his mouth full of toothpaste. It's just so comforting to be able to debrief about your respective days, with a bunch of cuddling to look forward to.

N for Nightmare What Is Their Worst Fear?

He's terrified you'll get bored or tired of him and just up and leave. It's definitely a subconscious fear, so if you bring it up he wouldn't admit it. His actions certainly align differently.

He tones down the reactions and feelings he believes would push you away, and goes a little too far trying to please you. It isn't very rational, but he's scared you'll abandon him.

O for Oddity What Is One Quirk They Have?

Oh, sooooo many. We already know the canon stuff, but I think he's a complete germaphobe.

He hates germs. Washes his hands every five minutes, keeps a very clean environment, and demands anyone who's even slightly sick should be quarantined. He'll tolerate a lot from you, but not an unclean environment. Not that your apartment would ever be unclean, because he proactively breaks in and takes care of all of that.

He’s also really big on budgeting. He has an app and a tracking notebook and everything. He doesn’t earn much, but he likes the idea of saving up for something big.

P for Pet Names What Do They Like To Call You?

Just 'babe' probably. He tries a bunch of other things, but you shut that down immediately. Because there's no way you're letting him walk around calling you his honeybunch or his boo bear.

He likes being called ‘baby’ or ‘honey.’

Q for Quality Time How Do They Like To Spend Time With You?

I think he's a big fan of body doubling, i.e. doing things together but apart. You'll stick around and read a book, while he rewatches a show you aren't particularly interested in. He'll join you as you do your makeup to solve a puzzle he's had in the back of his closet for a few years. He just likes that you can do your own individual things but still be within earshot and an arm's length away.

R for Rhythm What Song Reminds You Of Them?

Barbie Girl, obviously.

On a more serious note, Suck It and See by Arctic Monkeys is so on brand for a relationship with Adrian. I could write an essay on how perfect it is, but have these lyrics instead:

"Your kiss it could put creases in the rain You're rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock And those other girls are just postmix lemonade."

"That's not a skirt girl, that's a sawn off shotgun And I can only hope, you've got it aimed at me."

"Jigsaw women with horror movie shoes Be cruel to me, 'cause I'm a fool for you."

S for Secrets How Open Are They With You?

Adrian just wants to keep you safe. He'll probably keep as much about his vigilantism from you as he can, which ends up not being much because he's horrible at lying. He really tries so hard, but nothing ever gets past you. In conclusion, he'd be very secretive if he knew how to be, but he really can't.

T for Time How Long Does It Take You To Get Together?

I'd say a pretty long time. Adrian's ever been in a real, long-term relationship. No one's ever been patient enough with him to wanna see it through. So, dating isn't exactly a field where he excels. You'd have to be very direct about liking him and wanting to explore a relationship.

The talking stage is probably pretty rough, but after that it's smooth sailing. The longer you've known him, the easier it'd all end up being.

U for Upset How Do They Act When You’re Upset With Them?

Immediately goes into self-blame mode. Subconsciously, it's because he doesn't want you to get so upset you'd let him go [as seen in N]. He also genuinely thinks a lot of your relationship problems are caused by him or his limited capacity to understand everything you feel, so he usually just wants to apologize before he makes it worse.

You really have to encourage open and detailed conversations about why and how you're feeling the way you are. It's important that he understands that, despite you being mad, all of the problems in a relationship can't possibly be the fault of one person.

V for Vaunt What Are They Proud Of? Do They Like To Show You Off?

Yes, he's incredibly proud. It isn't because he cares what everyone thinks, but he loves to show you off. Constantly. He'll bring you up mid-conversation with anyone and everyone and just go on and on.

In his defense, he's never thought he'd ever find someone so compatible. Chris might be his best friend (although that's debatable now that he has you), but you're his soulmate. He'll say it with his whole chest, too.

W for Warrior How Do They Feel About You Fighting? Would They Fight For You? Beside You? Etc.

More than anything, it gets him hot and bothered. No one's been able to get him so hard doing something non-sexual, well, ever. You'll always be able to tell by the way his visor fogs up that it's getting him a little heated to see you fight.

As for what he thinks about fighting for you, he just does it without a second thought. It isn't even something he has to think about. It's something he's good at, and he'll always use every single resource at his disposal to make you happy. The grittier the fight for your honor and safety, the better.

Also, knowing you also like watching him fight certainly helps a lot.

X for X-Ray How Well Are They Able To Read You?

Honestly, not very well. And it's not for lack of trying. This isn't a problem in your relationship, though. Adrian is easy to talk to, so you usually tell him things before he has to guess them.

He isn't stupid, either. He's able to put patterns together pretty well, so he'll eventually memorize the specific little things you do when you're feeling whatever it is you're feeling. When you break things down for him and let him know what you need at certain times, he's more than happy to oblige. He never means to leave you wanting for anything.

Y for Yes How Would They Propose To You?

Very casually. Think the ‘nonchalant proposals’ on TikTok. Unless you express exactly how you want to be proposed to or you do it yourself, don't expect anything grand.

Z for Zen What Makes Them Feel Calm?

Very rarely does a person get to experience their favorite moment over and over again. Adrian does. Every single time he comes back from a long night out patrolling, working, or just hanging out with the 11th street kids and he sees you curled up in bed with his shirt on, he's the happiest he's ever been. His mind goes quiet, and his only objective is to snuggle the hell out of you until the AM. p.s. it's probably how he ends up using your ass as a pillow.

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natsgrave · 2 days ago

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“But I needed you to know. I love you, Wanda Maximoff. And I’ll wait. I’ll pursue you, gently—steadily—until you tell me to stop.” this is definitely a propaganda i'd fall for. can't fictional characters just be real? this world really needs this kind of people.

"Y/N already knew. Gods, her heart knew before her mind ever did." did you just stab me and then twist the knife???

"Y/N nodded, her heart breaking in a way only someone raised by gods could endure without crumbling. “Then I’ll love you quietly. From afar.” She walked away then, not because she was weak, but because staying would’ve hurt worse." oh god, i feel so bad for Y/N. and that last line? i totally agree — don't stay where you're not wanted. "He came not as a soldier, not as an enemy—but as the man Wanda had once loved. The one she had chosen." VISION, JESUS. YOU KEEP RUINING EVERYTHING! EVERY GODDAMN TIME! “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the wind. “But it was always him.” just stfu, please. you're already hurting me, you don't have to rub it in.

“You should’ve been the one to die, Y/N. Not him.” The words cut deeper than any blade. And Wanda knew it. But she said them anyway. “Whatever you thought was between us—it was never real. It will never be real.” wanda... what in the actual fuck was that? how can you be so cruel? how can you say that? (no, don't say that! it was real! it was real to me!)

"Shuri looked up from her console. “If you override his system like this, you won’t survive. It’s too much. Please—don’t do this.” But Y/N just closed her eyes. And gave." Y/N, please, stop. you're hurting me, too. stop giving everything to wanda. “But it wasn’t right,” Wanda said, her voice breaking. “You should have hated me.” i do, i fucking hate you rn.

“I did it because you loved him. And I loved you.” and then the story of us started playing, now what?

“I thought I was broken when I lost Vision. But this—this is worse. This hurts more!” Wanda sobbed, clutching her chest like her heart might rip out. “And I told you… those horrible things. I said you should’ve died. And now you are, and it’s—it’s my fault—” now it's haunted playing, then what's next?

girl, what in the actual fuck? istg, wanda was so fucking stupid — i can't even believe it. i love her but damn girl, i can't stop cursing the fuck out of you and throwing hands at you. i keep making faces every damn time she says something stupind. like, bffr girl, what do you mean she should've let you choose her??? she's literally there for a very long time, standing infront of you, offering and giving everything and you still choose someone else. i can't take you seriously and i'm literally crashing out.

All That I Gave Till We Found Our Happy Ending

Wanda Maximoff x Asgardian Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N always loved Wanda. But Wanda had chosen Vision.

Word Count: 8,914

Warnings: angst, heart break, death, happy ending.

A/N: This Story has two versions. This is the happy ending version. If you plan to read both versions, I recommend to read the other one first!

Main Masterlist

Angst Only Ver.

---

Y/N had always found Midgard’s silence different from Asgard’s. Here, it pressed against the walls, especially after battle, especially after loss.

Y/N had been by Wanda’s side every step.

After Sokovia.

After Pietro.

When Wanda screamed into her pillow for nights, Y/N stayed by the door.

When she stopped eating, Y/N brought her food and sat with her silently until she ate.

When her hands trembled with power she didn’t understand, Y/N taught her to breathe like the warriors of Asgard did when their blood threatened to boil.

She fell in love with Wanda through all of it.

Not for her beauty—though she had never seen a creature more stunning in any of the Nine Realms.

Not for her power—though it sang with a rhythm that called to something deep in Y/N’s bones.

But for her heart. Her grief. Her strength. Her way of rebuilding from ashes.

The first time Y/N told Wanda she loved her, it wasn’t some grand confession under fireworks or amid a life-threatening mission. It was quiet. Honest. Just the two of them, sitting under the stars on the compound’s roof.

Wanda had still been grieving back then—her eyes hollow, her heart heavy from losing Pietro. And Y/N had been there. Through it all. Not because she hoped it would earn her love, but because she loved her.

“I know you're not ready,” Y/N had said, her voice low, steady like thunder before the storm. “But I needed you to know. I love you, Wanda Maximoff. And I’ll wait. I’ll pursue you, gently—steadily—until you tell me to stop.”

Wanda had blinked, tears shimmering in her eyes. She didn’t speak right away. Just leaned her head against Y/N’s shoulder and whispered, “You make me feel safe. Like I can breathe again.”

Y/N took that as enough.

For a while, it seemed like maybe—maybe—that love would have room to grow.

But then came Vision.

He was kind. Curious. Gentle in ways that didn’t threaten Wanda’s still-tender heart. And Y/N, though she felt the shift, stayed silent—watching it happen, watching him happen.

Then one day, Wanda pulled her aside. Her hands were shaking.

“I need to tell you something,” she said.

Y/N already knew. Gods, her heart knew before her mind ever did. But she nodded. “Go ahead.”

“I care for you, I do,” Wanda started. “But... Vision asked me to dinner.”

Y/N didn’t flinch. She didn’t rage. She only said, “And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

Silence hung between them like a blade.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Wanda added quickly. “You’ve always been there for me and—”

“I know,” Y/N interrupted gently, a sad smile curling her lips. “And I always will be. But if Vision’s the one who makes your heart feel like it can fly, then don’t let me hold you down.”

Wanda’s eyes brimmed with guilt.

Y/N stepped closer and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the way she always did when Wanda looked like she was falling apart. “I meant what I said that night, Wanda. I will pursue you—unless you tell me not to.”

“I think... I think it wouldn’t be fair to you if I let you wait.”

“So tell me to stop.”

Wanda’s voice cracked when she whispered, “Stop.”

Y/N nodded, her heart breaking in a way only someone raised by gods could endure without crumbling. “Then I’ll love you quietly. From afar.”

She walked away then, not because she was weak, but because staying would’ve hurt worse.

And even as Wanda watched her go, a part of her already knew—Vision may have been the safe choice, the logical one. But Y/N... Y/N had always been home.

---

After that day Y/N watched it unfold slowly—Wanda and Vision.

A subtle closeness at first. Quiet conversations in corners. Shared books. Hands brushing, lingering too long. Then came the stolen glances. The soft laughs. The night Wanda didn’t come to the rooftop anymore—because Vision had asked her to watch a film with him instead.

Y/N watched. And ached.

But she never stepped back. Not from Wanda.

When nightmares clawed at Wanda’s mind, it was still Y/N she called.

When her magic flared too wildly in training, it was Y/N who steadied her hands.

She was always there.

Even after Wanda told her, gently but firmly, “It’s not you, Y/N.”

Y/N only nodded, swallowing the storm in her chest. “It’s okay. I never expected you to wait for a god.”

But that was a lie. Some part of her had hoped Wanda would.

---

Before the Sokovian accords, Y/N was called away when Hera attacked Asgard. Thor and Loki needed her. Duty bound Y/N to go. She left Midgard with a reluctant heart, leaving only a message for Wanda.

“If you need me, call. Across realms, across space—I’ll find you.”

Wanda never called.

Not until it was too late.

When Y/N returned, the world was on fire.

The Sokovian Accords had split the Avengers apart. Half of them fugitives, the others enforcers of law. And Wanda—gods, Wanda—had been imprisoned.

By Vision.

By the one she chose.

Y/N landed at the ruined compound, cape still dusted in ash from the Bifrost, fists clenched at her sides.

“She trusted him,” she growled. “And he put her in a cage.”

Steve was the one who told her everything. The explosion in Lagos. The fear. The politics. Wanda being deemed a threat. And Vision “keeping her safe” behind locked doors.

Y/N’s eyes glowed with fury. “He was supposed to love her. And he chained her like a beast?”

“She’s not in there anymore,” Steve said. “We broke her out before the Raft.”

“No. I will break her out.”

She found Wanda in a hidden base in Wakanda, still shaken. Still fragile.

Y/N burst into the room like a storm, pulling her into her arms, her voice tight with emotion. “You should’ve called me. You should’ve called me.”

Wanda clung to her like a child. “I didn’t know how.”

Y/N stayed.

Through the hiding. Through the guilt. Through the endless apologies Wanda muttered at night in her sleep. She taught her how to wield her magic without fear again. She trained with her. Held her when the grief came in waves.

They laughed again.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N let herself hope.

---

But fate, cruel and mocking, had other plans.

Y/N stood at the edge of the crumbling hillside estate, the moonlight casting a pale silver glow over the ruins they had once called refuge. Far from the compound, far from the chaos of governments and sides, they had run here—Wanda and Y/N—to a safehouse in the woods of Eastern Europe. Hunted, broken, healing.

She had thought maybe here, maybe this time...

But fate, cruel and mocking, had other plans.

Vision had found them.

He came not as a soldier, not as an enemy—but as the man Wanda had once loved. The one she had chosen.

He stood in the courtyard, speaking softly to Wanda in Sokovian, voice trembling with guilt and promises. Y/N had watched from the shadows, every word carving deeper into her chest like a blade.

Wanda cried. Trembled. And then… she took his hand.

Didn’t even look back.

Didn’t see the way Y/N’s jaw clenched. The way her knuckles went white around the hilt of the dagger at her thigh. The way her eyes—normally blazing with Asgardian fire—dimmed to something hollow.

She walked.

Out the gate.

Down the path.

Through the trees.

Until she reached the hill’s edge, where the stars stretched like cold diamonds across the black velvet sky.

She looked up, exhaled slowly.

And whispered, “Heimdall.”

Silence.

Then—golden light shimmered faintly in the air, as if the cosmos itself paused to hear her call.

“Heimdall,” she said again, firmer now. “Open the Bifrost.”

The wind picked up, whipping through her dark hair, pulling at her crimson cloak. Behind her, the leaves rustled—but it wasn’t Wanda.

Of course not.

She didn’t expect her to follow.

Didn’t want her to—not if it wasn’t her choosing.

Then, in a flash of burning celestial light, the Bifrost opened—crackling sky to earth, bright enough to chase away the shadows still clinging to her soul.

Y/N stared into its heart.

No one came running after her.

No one called her name.

And still, she waited.

One second. Two.

Just in case.

Just in case...

But there was only wind.

So Y/N stepped into the light.

And was gone.

---

Wanda’s POV

She didn’t watch her go.

Wanda stood in the overgrown courtyard long after Vision had taken her hand and whispered, "You don’t have to run anymore."

Long after the trees stilled.

Long after Y/N turned and walked away without a word.

But when she felt the sky split open in gold behind the treetops—the distinct hum of the Bifrost tearing through the night—she knew.

Y/N was gone.

She pressed her lips together, fingers curling into the folds of her sleeves.

A pang struck her chest, sudden and sharp. Not grief. Not regret, exactly. Just… ache.

Empty, dull ache.

The kind you don’t feel until something has already been lost.

She swallowed hard, looking up toward the flicker of dying light in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the wind. “But it was always him.”

Her voice trembled on that truth.

Because she did love Vision.

Right?

Yes!

She loved his stillness. His calm. His curiosity. The way he looked at her without fear—even when she was at her worst. He saw the humanity in her, not just the power.

With him, she didn’t feel like a monster.

So when he came back—arms open, words soft, eyes full of sorrow—how could she say no?

He was her choice.

He had always been her choice.

And Y/N... Y/N was the one who loved her first. The one who carried her through the fire and never asked for anything in return. The one whose love was so big, so unwavering, it made Wanda feel like she could burn the world down and still be forgiven.

But love like that... it scared her.

Because if she ever fell into it, really fell, and it shattered—she didn’t know if she’d survive.

So she didn’t chase her.

Didn’t call her name.

Didn’t beg her to stay.

Because safety was here—in Vision’s quiet voice, in his promises, in his logic.

Even if her heart felt heavier than it should.

Even if she still felt Y/N’s warmth on her skin and her absence like frost in her lungs.

She turned to Vision.

Smiled, though her lips barely moved.

And tried not to look back.

---

A Year Later

The Bifrost split the sky open over the Scottish countryside, a streak of burning celestial gold crashing into the earth. Smoke curled from the crater, and from it rose a figure clad in dark Asgardian armor, her cloak torn by battle, eyes burning with urgency.

Y/N stepped out of the light, her face grim. She looked up to the clouds, chest rising and falling. The weight of what she’d left behind pressed against her ribs—Thor, bloodied. Loki, defiant. Thanos, looming.

She didn’t know how bad it would get.

Only that it was coming.

And she had to warn them.

She found Steve Rogers in a safehouse outside London, flanked by Natasha and Sam. The air was thick with tension the moment she arrived.

“Y/N,” Steve said, stunned. “I thought you were still on Asgard.”

“I was,” she said quickly. “But Thanos is coming. He’s not sending armies anymore—he’s doing it himself. He already has the Power Stone. And the Space Stone.”

Natasha’s face darkened. “And you’re sure?”

Y/N nodded once. “I left Thor and Loki to stall him. We didn’t have time to argue.”

Steve stepped forward. “Then we don’t have time either. Wanda and Vision—”

“Where are they?” Y/N interrupted.

“They’re in Edinburgh. We lost contact.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened. Of course. Of course they were alone.

She didn’t wait for orders. “We go now.”

---

Edinburgh

By the time they reached them, the fight was already underway. Vision was pinned, injured—half-dead from the blade impaled through his back. Wanda was fending off the Children of Thanos alone, her magic flaring wildly.

Y/N hit the ground like thunder, crashing into one of the attackers with the force of an asteroid. Her sword gleamed under the neon lights, slicing clean through alien armor. She didn’t look at Wanda, not yet—her focus was war.

When the dust settled, Wanda stood breathing hard, blood dripping from her brow, magic pulsing at her fingertips. She turned, stunned.

“…Y/N?”

Y/N looked at her, gaze unreadable. “We have to go. Now.”

Wanda took a step forward, eyes searching hers. “You came back.”

“I came to fight,” Y/N said. “Not for you. For the world.”

That stung. Wanda flinched.

But Y/N had already turned, kneeling beside Vision, who was barely conscious. “You need to get the Mind Stone out of him. Now. Before Thanos finds you.”

“He’ll die,” Wanda said, voice cracking.

Y/N met her eyes then, finally. “Everyone will die if you don’t.”

---

Wakanda

They were in the jet now, flying fast over dark waters. Vision lay silent, head in Wanda’s lap. Steve was focused ahead. Natasha checked weapons. No one spoke much.

Y/N stood at the far end of the cabin, hand resting on the hilt of her blade, eyes locked on the stars. She didn’t look at Wanda.

But Wanda kept glancing at her.

There was something different about Y/N now. Something quieter. More distant. As if the pain she once carried had been turned into steel and silence.

Wanda wanted to speak. To say thank you. I'm sorry. I missed you.

But the words caught in her throat.

Because it wasn’t her Y/N anymore. It was a warrior.

And this time, Y/N wasn’t there to pick up her pieces.

She was here to stop the end of the world.

---

Wakanda — The Final Attempt

The halls of Shuri’s lab pulsed with urgency—lights flashing, alarms flaring in the distance as Thanos’s army began to breach Wakanda’s outer defenses.

Inside, Y/N stood beside Princess Shuri, her glowing hands hovering over Vision’s body. The Mind Stone shone faintly in his forehead, flickering like a dying star.

“This is delicate work,” Shuri said quickly, fingers dancing over the holographic schematics of Vision’s neural network. “One wrong move and—”

“I know,” Y/N said, her voice calm but taut. “But I can keep him alive.”

Shuri blinked, pausing. “You’re not human, are you?”

Y/N gave a small, tight smile. “No. I’m Asgardian. More than that—I am the daughter of the River Eternal. The Goddess of Life.”

Shuri raised a brow. “Impressive title.”

“It’s not a title,” Y/N replied. “It’s what I am.”

She looked down at Vision. “If you can disconnect the stone from his systems, I can keep the organic part of him alive. Every cell, every function—I can breathe life back into whatever remains.”

Shuri hesitated—then nodded once. “Then we’ll do it together.”

The procedure began.

Shuri worked fast, fingers flying over hard-light controls, separating vibranium mesh and neural pathways. Outside, the rumble of battle shook the earth, but inside the lab, there was only stillness—and the faint golden glow spreading from Y/N’s hands into Vision’s chest.

Wanda watched through the glass with Steve and Okoye, her hands balled into fists. She didn’t understand the science, or the magic—but she saw the way Y/N leaned in, her energy pulsing like a heartbeat, her lips whispering ancient words in a tongue older than Midgard itself.

It was beautiful. Terrifying.

Selfless.

“You're burning yourself,” Shuri muttered, glancing at Y/N’s shaking arms.

“I can take it,” Y/N said through gritted teeth. “Just keep going.”

Bit by bit, the stone began to loosen—its tendrils detaching from Vision’s mind without killing him. Golden light poured from Y/N’s fingertips into every vein in his body, sustaining his systems. She willed every cell to live.

She could feel it—Vision’s fading consciousness, the echoes of Wanda in his memory, the quiet way he still longed to stay with her.

So Y/N gave more.

More than she should.

Outside the chamber, Wanda pressed a hand to the glass, eyes wide, breath shallow.

She could feel Y/N’s energy—it wasn’t chaos like hers. It was warmth. Like sunlight on skin. Like spring after winter. Like love, if love were made of starlight and sacrifice.

She’d known Y/N was powerful.

But not like this.

Not until now.

Wanda’s breath came fast, each heartbeat pounding like a war drum. “I have to go,” she said urgently, glancing toward the distant battlefield where Thanos’s forces advanced relentlessly.

Y/N nodded, her hands glowing faint gold as she steadied Vision’s still form.

“Shuri, are you ready?”

Shuri gave a sharp nod. “I’ve almost disconnected the Mind Stone. Once it’s free, it’s yours.”

Together, they worked with precision and silent determination. The Mind Stone pulsed like a fragile sun, tethered to Vision’s mind by delicate, golden threads.

Then—suddenly—free.

Vision gasped, eyes fluttering open, and Y/N caught him effortlessly.

“We did it,” she whispered.

But there was no time to celebrate.

She turned, Mind Stone glowing fiercely in her palm, and ran out into the woods.

The woods were alive with the distant thunder of battle. Steve, Natasha, and others held the line against the advancing enemy.

Wanda waited, tension carved deep in her face. Y/N approached, breathless, holding the Mind Stone.

“This ends here,” Y/N said firmly.

Wanda took the stone, magic flaring around her fingers as she chanted ancient words, energy crackling until the Mind Stone cracked—fracturing like a star exploding.

A blinding light burst from the shattered gem.

For a moment, hope blossomed.

But then—time twisted.

Thanos appeared like a shadow cast in malice, eyes burning with cold fire.

In a swift, devastating motion, he lunged.

His blade pierced Y/N’s side—tearing her away from the battle, from Wanda, from hope.

She collapsed, blood blooming dark against her armor.

Wanda didn’t hesitate. She sprinted through the trees, heart pounding, until she reached Y/N collapsed on the forest floor, clutching her side where blood seeped through torn armor.

“Y/N!” Wanda cried, dropping to her knees beside her. Her hands glowed softly, weaving magic to mend the wound.

Almost instantly, the gash began to close—skin knitting together, strength returning. Y/N’s breath grew steadier.

“Wanda…” Y/N whispered, eyes half-lidded, a faint smile breaking through the pain.

“I’ve got you,” Wanda said fiercely, eyes shining with hope.

Then—

A sudden, chilling silence swept the battlefield.

The air grew cold.

Wanda’s glowing hands froze mid-motion.

She looked up—just in time to see the cruel grin on Thanos’s face as he raised his gauntlet.

With a terrible snap, the world around them shuddered.

The grass at their feet withered.

The sky darkened.

And Wanda… flickered.

Her vibrant form began to crumble, particles of light and color dissolving into dust.

“No!” Y/N gasped, reaching out desperately as Wanda’s eyes met hers one last time—full of pain, fear, and unspoken love.

And then—

She was gone.

Dust drifting on the cold wind.

Wanda’s ashes still floated in the dying sunlight, dancing between Y/N’s trembling fingers.

She stared blankly at the space where her love had been, her mind struggling to accept the void left behind.

A scream tore from her throat.

Raw. Primal. Agony incarnate.

The kind of scream that shattered the air, that made birds flee from trees, that cracked the bark of trees around her. The ground trembled beneath her knees, golden energy bursting out of her body like an uncontrollable wave—life itself flaring in devastation.

“WANDA!”

Her name echoed through the woods, through the smoke and blood, but there was no answer.

Only silence.

Only dust.

Y/N slammed her fists into the earth. Vines sprouted instantly, flowers bloomed—life bursting from her, unable to fix what had been taken.

Because it wasn’t death.

It was erasure.

And not even the Goddess of Life could bring back what wasn’t there.

A sudden streak of lightning flashed across the sky.

Thor landed beside her, Stormbreaker dripping with blood. His breath was heavy, his eyes wild.

“Where is he?” he roared.

Y/N rose, her golden eyes burning. She pointed across the clearing—toward Thanos, standing calmly on a distant hill, watching the devastation he’d wrought.

Thor didn’t wait.

He charged.

Stormbreaker soared.

It struck true—burying deep into Thanos’s chest.

But it wasn’t enough.

The Mad Titan smiled grimly. “You should have gone for the head.”

And with a final flash—he was gone.

Vanished into ash and silence.

Y/N stumbled forward, eyes wide. “No… no, no, no—”

Thor collapsed to his knees beside her, staring at the empty space Thanos left behind.

“We lost,” he murmured.

Y/N didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

Her knees gave out again, and she fell to the ground where Wanda had last been—hands open, reaching for dust that would never reassemble.

She whispered, brokenly, “She was everything.”

And for the first time in centuries, the Goddess of Life had no hope to offer.

Only grief.

---

Five Years Later

Time hadn’t dulled the ache in Y/N’s chest.

Five years had passed since Wanda vanished in her arms, since half the universe crumbled into dust. Every sunrise without her was a quiet war Y/N fought alone. She wandered Earth, sometimes Asgard, but she never stayed long anywhere—always moving, always waiting for a sign that she could do something.

That sign came in the form of Scott Lang.

The Quantum Realm. Time travel. A second chance.

And suddenly, there was hope.

---

Vormir — The Soul Stone

When the teams split up to retrieve the stones, the mission to Vormir fell to Y/N, Vision, and Natasha.

None of them questioned it.

Vision was restored by Shuri using Y/N’s lingering energy from the procedure five years earlier—rebuilt, quieter, still haunted by all he remembered. He looked at Y/N differently now. With gratitude. With guilt. And always with Wanda between them, even unspoken.

When they reached Vormir and met the Red Skull, the truth settled in like a blade.

A soul for a soul.

Y/N didn’t hesitate.

“I’ll go,” she said, stepping forward.

Natasha grabbed her arm. “Y/N—”

“It has to be me,” Y/N said. “This is for Wanda. If there’s a chance she can live again... I’ll give everything.”

But Vision stepped forward.

“No,” he said softly.

Y/N turned to him, stunned. “Vision—”

“You’re the Goddess of Life,” he said. “You can’t give that up. The universe needs you.”

“I’m not doing this for the universe,” she snapped. “I’m doing this for her.”

He held her gaze. “And she would never forgive you if you died for her.”

She faltered.

“I’m not truly alive,” he said. “I was created. I can be rebuilt again. If anyone must go—let it be me.”

“Vision—”

“Let me do this… for both of us.” He said quietly.

Y/N’s throat closed.

She stepped back.

And Vision turned, without fear, to the cliff’s edge.

“I hope,” he said with a faint smile, “she remembers me kindly.”

Then—he let go.

Y/N screamed as he fell, but she didn’t stop him.

A flash of light. A tremor in the sky.

The Soul Stone lay there, glowing.

Y/N collapsed to her knees, clutching it to her chest. “You fool,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

---

The Endgame — One Last Push

The battle was chaos—time fragments crashing together, armies from across the universe colliding.

Thanos returned.

And so did Wanda.

Y/N saw her in the midst of the storm, her red magic slicing through the sky, her rage pure, focused.

“Wanda!” she shouted.

Their eyes met for just a second—but there was no time.

Then Tony snapped his fingers.

He fell.

Y/N ran to him as Peter and Pepper wept by his side. His breathing was shallow, his life fading.

But Y/N—bloody, shaking—knelt beside him, hands trembling.

“No,” she said. “Not you too.”

She pressed her fingers to his chest, gold light pouring from her palms.

“He gave everything,” Pepper whispered.

“I can give it back,” Y/N said, her voice low, fierce. “Just enough.”

She didn’t heal everything. Just enough to keep the arc reactor pulsing, his heart beating.

Enough for Tony Stark to live.

---

After the End

The Avengers Compound was quieter now.

The fires were out. The dead were mourned. The sky was whole again.

But peace was fragile.

And grief hadn’t gone anywhere.

Wanda walked through the wreckage with red-rimmed eyes, ignoring the celebrations and reunions. She searched every room, every hallway.

“Vision,” she whispered. “Where is he?”

No one had answers.

Until Natasha found her.

“Wanda,” she said gently. “We need to talk—”

“Where is he, Nat?” Wanda’s voice cracked. “Where’s Vision?”

Natasha hesitated, her jaw tight. “He went to Vormir with Y/N and me… for the Soul Stone.”

Wanda froze. “That’s impossible. He—he was with me, in Wakanda. He was here.”

“I know,” Nat said quietly. “He chose to go in Y/N’s place. He gave himself for the stone.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then—Wanda’s breath hitched.

And she snapped.

She stormed down the corridor, magic surging around her in an unstable flicker of red chaos.

She found Y/N standing in the debriefing room alone, her armor still stained with blood, shoulders sagging, eyes vacant. The Soul Stone’s glow long gone from her palm.

Wanda didn’t wait.

“You let him die,” she said, her voice trembling.

Y/N turned slowly, eyes widening. “Wanda—”

“You let him die!” Wanda shouted, her magic flaring behind her. “You stood there and watched while he threw himself off that cliff! You’re the Goddess of Life! You could’ve stopped him!”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “He made a choice—”

“No. No, you made a choice,” Wanda spat. “You let him go so you could be the one who survived. Was that your plan all along?”

“Wanda, that’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me!” she screamed, her hands shaking. “Did you think that if he was gone, I’d suddenly look at you differently? That I’d fall into your arms out of grief? Is that it?”

Y/N’s lips parted, stunned, wounded, but silent.

Tears poured down Wanda’s cheeks as her voice turned vicious.

“You should’ve been the one to die, Y/N. Not him.”

The words cut deeper than any blade. And Wanda knew it.

But she said them anyway.

“Whatever you thought was between us—it was never real. It will never be real.”

The room fell silent.

Y/N stood frozen, like stone. She didn’t argue. Didn’t explain. She only looked at Wanda like someone who had finally been destroyed—completely.

Then Y/N said, so softly it barely carried,

“…I know.”

And walked out.

Natasha stood in the doorway, having heard it all.

Wanda sank to the ground, sobbing.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered, over and over. “I didn’t mean it—”

But it was too late.

Because gods may survive battles.

But they don’t always survive heartbreak.

---

Few Days Later

Y/N stood with Steve Rogers, both watching the golden shimmer of the Quantum Gateway pulse to life.

“You sure you don’t want to be the one to go home?” he asked, half-grinning.

She smiled faintly, already worn from the battle. “Home’s not a place for me anymore.”

He gave her a knowing look. “Then find a new one.”

She tilted her head. “What about you?”

Steve glanced at the briefcase with the stones, and then back to the past he hadn’t seen in seventy years. “I think I already did.”

Y/N nodded, understanding without needing him to say her name. Peggy.

“Go,” she said. “You deserve your dance.”

He gave her a soft salute, then vanished into the stream of time.

And just like that, he was gone.

---

She didn’t have long, but there was one place she needed to see before returning to her timeline.

Asgard.

Not the one that had fallen—but the Asgard of the past. Golden skies. Singing winds. The scent of lavender and stone.

She wandered the gardens she remembered from childhood, her boots echoing over marble pathways.

And then—her mother found her.

“Daughter,” Frigga said warmly, opening her arms.

Y/N fell into them, for the first time in years allowing herself to feel small.

“I’ve made so many mistakes,” she whispered. “I loved someone who couldn’t love me back. I tried to let go, and I keep losing.”

Frigga ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair. “You love deeply. That is no mistake.”

“She told me I should’ve died.”

Frigga’s hand paused.

Y/N didn’t cry. But her voice broke. “And maybe she was right.”

Frigga pulled back, her voice sharp. “No. She was in pain, not in truth.”

“She loves someone else.”

“Love isn’t possession, child,” Frigga said softly. “Love is knowing their happiness matters more than your pride.”

Y/N swallowed. “Even if that happiness isn’t with you?”

Frigga nodded. “Especially then.”

There was silence for a while. Then Y/N looked up. “She was my happiness.”

“Then give her the choice to feel it again.”

Y/N says her goodbyes and she returns to her timeline.

With a new purpose.

She brought together the ones she trusted—Shuri, Bruce Banner, and the knowledge Tony Stark left behind. They worked in secret. Wanda was still grieving. She hadn't spoken to Y/N since the battle. She hadn’t apologized. She didn’t even know.

It didn’t matter.

This wasn’t for forgiveness.

It was for her.

Vision’s body was rebuilt—vibranium polished, neural cores realigned, brain patterns reconstructed.

---

Few Weeks Later

Vision’s body lay still on the platform—repaired, restored, but empty. A shell waiting for a spark.

The lab thrummed with quiet urgency.

Shuri moved through the diagnostics. “We’re ready for memory restoration, but it’s incomplete. We don’t have a sustainable power source for full neural activation.”

Bruce glanced at Y/N. “There’s got to be another way. You can’t—”

But Y/N was already stepping forward.

Her eyes glowed faintly, golden light dancing at her fingertips. Her breathing was tight. She pressed a hand over Vision’s chest.

“Y/N,” Bruce said, alarm rising in his voice. “This will burn through you.”

Shuri looked up from her console. “If you override his system like this, you won’t survive. It’s too much. Please—don’t do this.”

But Y/N just closed her eyes.

And gave.

Light poured from her like a storm breaking open. Not radiant like before—but cracked, fractured, tendrils of black laced through gold as it streamed into Vision’s core. Her veins darkened across her neck, her chest, her hands.

The mark of a god bleeding herself dry.

“Y/N, stop!” Bruce shouted.

“Think of Wanda—she already lost him once, don’t make her lose you too!” Shuri cried.

But Y/N didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

She just kept going.

Until—

A single gasp.

Vision’s chest rose.

Eyes opened.

Alive.

Whole.

Remembering.

Y/N let go.

Her knees buckled. She barely caught herself against the table. One hand clutched her chest, where deep black veins now pulsed with slow poison.

Bruce caught her before she fell completely.

Her skin was pale. Her lips trembling.

“Why?” he asked softly. “Why would you do this?”

Y/N met his eyes.

But she didn’t answer.

Didn’t say a word.

She only looked at Vision.

And then away.

As if that—bringing him back—was the only truth that mattered.

Later that day,

The compound was full of light and laughter.

People clinked glasses. Music drifted lazily through the halls. Wanda stood beside Vision, her hand in his, her eyes brighter than they had been in years.

He was alive.

Whole.

Home.

Wanda smiled when she looked at him, something warm and complete blooming in her chest. Whatever pain she had carried for five years—it finally cracked open and let joy in.

Everyone celebrated.

Everyone but one.

Y/N stood at the edge of the garden outside the hall, her cloak pulled tightly around her. She could feel the pulse of life in the compound—the heartbeat of friends, of family—but she remained just beyond the glow.

The dark lines beneath her skin had spread.

The threads around her heart were deeper now, cold. Even breathing hurt. Even standing still made her bones ache.

She didn’t know how long she had.

A week?

A few days?

It didn’t matter.

Because Wanda was smiling.

And that… was enough.

Y/N turned away from the lights and laughter, her silhouette swallowed by the quiet of night.

And by morning, she was gone.

She boarded a small transport heading north, toward the coast—toward New Asgard.

The winds were colder there. Salt and sea and starlight clung to the air.

It wasn’t the Asgard of old, but it was still hers.

And she was tired.

So tired.

She took a small house by the cliffs, overlooking the sea. Simple. Quiet. The way gods faded—softly, like stars falling below the horizon.

Every night, she stood at the shore, hand over her heart, where dark veins glowed faintly like dying embers beneath her skin.

She didn’t curse Wanda.

She didn’t regret what she gave.

She only whispered, each time the wind howled through the waves,

“I would do it all again.”

---

The morning after the celebration, Wanda stirred beside Vision, but something gnawed at her chest—soft, intangible.

She glanced at him.

He was smiling, calm, gentle as ever.

But… there was a silence between them now. A distance.

And she couldn't name it.

Later that day, while the others moved through the compound, Wanda searched every hallway for one person.

Y/N.

Gone.

She asked Bruce. Shuri. Sam.

No one had seen her since the party.

Finally, it was Vision who found her in the garden.

“I believe,” he said carefully, “she left the morning after I was restored.”

Wanda frowned. “Why would she…? Wait—restored?”

Vision nodded, looking toward the sky as though recalling a dream. “Y/N was the one who brought me back. She gathered the science. Provided the magic. And in the end—she gave the power I did not have.”

Wanda’s breath caught.

“She… never told me,” she whispered. Her voice cracked. “I never got to thank her. Or apologize.”

---

Days passed. Wanda tried to cling to what she had.

But the ache wouldn’t go.

She and Vision spoke often. Sat together. Walked side by side.

But something was always missing.

And after a week, they both said it aloud.

“It’s not the same,” Vision admitted softly, fingers brushing hers but not quite igniting the same spark. “Whatever connection we shared… it was the Mind Stone.”

Wanda nodded slowly, pain deepening in her eyes. “I feel like… I should still love you. But it’s like someone turned down the volume on my heart.”

And that truth, quietly, gently, shattered the illusion they’d both held onto.

But for the first time, Wanda didn’t cry.

She simply said, “I think I needed to understand that… to move on.”

---

Thor found her a day later.

“She’s in New Asgard,” he told her. “Came here quietly. Hasn’t said much. She doesn’t look well, Wanda.”

Wanda didn’t waste time.

She left the next morning, heart full of nerves and hope and something else—remorse.

When she arrived at the cliffside house, she saw her.

Y/N stood barefoot by the edge of the shore, cloak fluttering in the wind, eyes closed like she was listening to the sea breathe.

“Y/N,” Wanda called softly.

Y/N turned.

Her eyes were dimmer than Wanda remembered. Her skin paler. The dark veins across her chest barely hidden by the open collar of her tunic.

“Wanda,” she said gently. “What are you doing here?”

Wanda ran to her, breath catching. “I had to. I needed to say—I'm so sorry.”

Y/N looked at her quietly.

“I said unforgivable things,” Wanda whispered. “I was grieving and cruel, and you—you gave everything. You saved him. And I never even said thank you.”

Y/N looked out at the sea. “You were in pain. I understood.”

“But it wasn’t right,” Wanda said, her voice breaking. “You should have hated me.”

“I never could,” Y/N said softly. “All I ever wanted… was for you to be happy.”

They fell into a quiet stillness.

Not awkward—just heavy with everything left unsaid. The wind rustled through the grass. The waves rolled in and out below the cliffs.

Finally, Wanda spoke again, her voice gentler now.

“We figured it out… Vision and I.”

Y/N turned slightly, listening.

Wanda looked down at her hands, then back out toward the sea. “It was the stone. The Mind Stone. That’s what made it feel like love. It was real in its way, but it wasn’t ours. It was never truly mine.”

She paused, breath catching in her throat. Then, almost in a whisper—

“When it was gone… and everything faded, all I could think about was you. My Y/N.”

Y/N blinked, heart stuttering.

Wanda turned to her fully now, eyes raw and open.

“I thought I loved him because it felt destined. But you... you were always there. You were never anything but real.”

She reached for Y/N’s hand.

And smiled—tentatively, softly, real.

Wanda took Y/N’s hand in both of hers, her voice trembling with something deeper than nerves—hope, maybe, or something close to a prayer.

“I want to try,” she said, eyes shining. “I want *us.* I want the life I should have chosen before. If there’s still time… please, let me love you the way you deserve.”

Y/N smiled faintly, but it was hollow—like a flicker of warmth inside a fading flame.

That smile was what broke Wanda first.

Her breath caught. “Y/N…?”

Y/N didn’t answer.

Her gaze drifted toward the horizon, as if trying to keep the truth at bay. But Wanda’s eyes followed the curve of her jaw, then lower—and froze.

The veins.

Black and red, like scorched lightning, had crept higher than before—now curling up Y/N’s neck like some twisted brand of sacrifice.

Wanda’s blood ran cold.

“…What did you do?” she asked, voice low, cracking like fragile glass.

Still, Y/N didn’t answer.

“Y/N. What did you do?!”

Y/N finally looked at her. And with a voice barely above a breath, she said:

“I gave him my essence. My core. My life. Enough to rebuild his soul.”

The air left Wanda’s lungs.

She stumbled back a step as if struck.

“No… no, you didn’t…” she whispered, eyes wide in horror. “Tell me you’re lying—tell me you didn’t—”

“I had to.”

“You didn’t!” Wanda screamed. “You didn’t have to do this! Not for me!”

“I didn’t do it for me,” Y/N said softly, painfully. “I did it because you loved him. And I loved you.”

Wanda fell to her knees.

Her hands covered her mouth as the tears broke free—harsh, endless, guttural sobs she couldn’t contain.

“You’re dying?” she choked out.

Y/N gave a slow, heartbreaking nod.

Quietly.

Without fear.

“I didn’t know how long I had,” she said. “I still don’t.”

Wanda crawled to her, clutching at her hands, at her shirt, at anything she could hold onto.

“You should’ve told me. You should’ve let me choose you, not mourn you.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” Y/N whispered.

“But I’m not,” Wanda sobbed. “I’m not if you’re not with me. Don’t you understand? You’re my happiness.”

Wanda clutched Y/N’s hands like lifelines, her tears soaking the fabric of her tunic.

Y/N’s hands… were too still.

Too calm.

Wanda looked up at her, eyes blazing with pain. “You don’t get to say goodbye. Not now. Not after everything.”

Y/N smiled faintly, but her eyes were distant. Hollow.

“You’ll be okay, Wanda.”

“No, I won’t,” Wanda snapped. “I won’t be okay without you.”

Y/N shook her head gently. “You will. One day, you’ll find someone who gives you peace again.”

Wanda stared at her like she’d been struck.

“What?”

Y/N’s voice was quiet, but unshakable. “I’m not your happiness, Wanda. I was never meant to be. You’ll love again—maybe even find your way back to Vision. Or someone new.”

“Don’t say that.”

“You loved him before. The stone made it stronger, maybe… but part of it was still yours. That kind of love doesn’t just vanish.”

“It did!” Wanda shouted. “It did the moment I realized what I lost in you.”

Y/N looked away, toward the sea. The wind caught her hair, her silhouette steady even as Wanda crumbled beside her.

“I was supposed to die, Wanda.”

Wanda blinked. “What?”

“Vormir,” Y/N whispered. “It should’ve been me. Just like you said it. Not Vision. Me.”

Wanda remembered.

“It should have been you, not him.”

The words she had spat at Y/N in her grief, in her fury, after Endgame.

Words meant to wound—and they had.

Gods, they had.

She choked on a sob as the memory clawed its way into the present.

“You said it too,” Y/N said softly, without accusation. Just quiet acknowledgment. “You knew it all along.”

Wanda dropped to her knees, cradling Y/N’s hands in hers, her heart tearing open.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean any of it—”

Y/N just smiled, sad and kind. “I know.”

Tears ran down Wanda’s cheeks like rain.

“But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

For a moment, there was silence—thick and heavy with everything left unsaid.

And then Wanda stood abruptly, the tremble in her limbs betraying her composure.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Y/N, pulling her close, pressing their foreheads together.

“I can’t lose you,” Wanda breathed. “Not again. Not ever.”

But as her arms tightened around Y/N’s back, her fingers brushed the skin of her shoulder—and froze.

Wanda pulled back just enough to look.

And there it was.

The spreading dark veins crawling across Y/N’s chest and shoulder, slithering up the side of her neck like poison beneath the skin. They pulsed faintly—black and red like old wounds refusing to close.

Wanda’s breathing hitched, her lungs suddenly too tight.

She stared, unable to blink.

Her heart pounded.

No…

Her eyes widened as she stumbled back a step, her hand covering her mouth.

“No,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “No, no, no…”

Her chest heaved.

No magic could explain this away.

No spell could undo what she saw.

No time stone could rewind it.

Y/N—her Y/N—was dying.

And this time… it was because of her.

Because she asked for Vision back.

Because she let Y/N sacrifice everything.

Because she had said the most unforgivable words and never took them back until it was too late.

Y/N reached for her, but Wanda sank to her knees in the grass by the cliffside, sobbing—hands pressed to her face, body trembling with every breath.

she cried. “Not you—never you!”

Y/N knelt beside her. “Wanda—”

“I thought I was broken when I lost Vision. But this—this is worse. This hurts more!” Wanda sobbed, clutching her chest like her heart might rip out.

“And I told you… those horrible things. I said you should’ve died. And now you are, and it’s—it’s my fault—”

Y/N’s arms wrapped around her gently.

Warm. Steady. Weakening.

“You’re not to blame,” she whispered. “I made this choice. I would make it again.”

Wanda shook her head violently, clinging to her now. “You don’t get to leave me. Not now.”

“I just wanted to give you peace.”

“You are my peace,” Wanda cried. “Don’t you get it? You are. I was too blind to see it. Too afraid.”

She looked up at Y/N, her hands cradling her face.

“I didn’t love Vision anymore. I loved the memory of what we were. But you—you’ve been there. Through everything. And I love you, Y/N. I love you now. I always loved you. But the stone was on the way!”

Y/N blinked slowly, the words softening something deep within her even as her body weakened.

“Please stay,” Wanda begged. “Please… however long you have—just stay. With me.”

---

They stayed in the small cliffside house.

Wanda never left her side.

She cooked for her. Wrapped her in blankets. Pressed warm tea into her hands and read aloud to her from old Asgardian texts. She even tried to meditate with her—even though she was terrible at it.

Every night, they laid together under thick quilts, Wanda’s fingers tracing softly over Y/N’s scarred skin, whispering promises into her hair.

“You’re not going anywhere without a fight.”

“If I can’t save you, I’ll love you through the end.”

“Please don’t go. Not yet.”

Y/N would sometimes smile, touch her cheek, and say softly,

“I’m not gone yet.”

---

One evening, the two of them sat in silence, watching the sea. The sky was pink and gold, the wind gentle.

“I thought love was supposed to be joy,” Wanda whispered.

Y/N leaned against her. “Sometimes it’s just choosing to stay. Even when it hurts.”

“And you stayed,” Wanda said. “Even when I didn’t choose you.”

“I never needed you to,” Y/N replied.

Wanda’s tears fell again.

“But now I do.”

---

The dark veins had reached Y/N’s collarbone.

Her fingertips were colder now. Her golden glow—dimmed to a flicker.

Wanda had stopped pretending things were okay. She barely left Y/N’s side, except when she was researching. Studying. Digging through old Asgardian scrolls, ancient magical texts, forgotten Stark files, even calling on Doctor Strange.

But every time—

“I’m sorry, Wanda. It’s not death. It’s essence decay. There’s no known reversal.”

She screamed into her pillow that night, fists clenched in helpless rage.

She hated the universe. Hated the sacrifice. Hated herself for not realizing sooner.

But most of all—she hated the thought of losing Y/N when she had only just found her.

Y/N could feel it too.

The weight in her bones. The way light had to be forced out of her fingers now. How her vision swam when she stood too long. The world felt quieter. Slower.

So she prepared.

One evening, while Wanda was gone, Y/N wrote something.

It wasn’t long. Just a page, folded carefully.

Then she summoned her final magic—what remained of her pure golden light—and tucked it into a locket.

It shimmered, faintly warm, like a heartbeat captured in metal.

She placed it on Wanda’s pillow with the letter,

“You gave me love, even when I thought I didn’t deserve it. You gave me your time, your truth, your touch. This light—it’s the last of me. When it’s cold, hold it. And remember I never left you. Not really. —Yours, always. Y/N.”

When Wanda found the locket and the letter, she collapsed to her knees.

“No, no, no—not yet.”

She rushed to Y/N’s room.

The goddess was curled beneath thick blankets, eyes closed, breath shallow. Her skin was almost grey now—webbed with shadows.

“Y/N,” Wanda choked out. “Don’t do this. Don’t you dare.”

Y/N’s eyes opened slowly.

“I’m here,” she whispered, voice like wind over glass.

“You can’t leave me.”

Y/N reached up, brushing Wanda’s cheek with weak fingers. “You found me, Wanda. That was everything.”

“I’m going to find a way,” Wanda whispered fiercely, taking her hand and pressing it to her heart. “I’ll find something—anything—just… stay. Please stay.”

“I don’t want to go,” Y/N whispered. “But I gave too much.”

Wanda’s magic pulsed around her, flaring in red, trying to hold Y/N’s essence in place.

But the light was fading.

And still—Y/N smiled.

“You’re the best thing I ever loved.”

That night, Wanda held her in bed.

No magic. No desperation.

Just their hands twined. Their foreheads pressed together.

“I love you,” Wanda whispered.

“I know,” Y/N said. “That’s why I’m not afraid.”

Wanda’s tears soaked into her shoulder.

Y/N’s light flickered.

Flickered.

And then—

Darkness.

Wanda held Y/N’s body tightly to her chest.

Still.

Too still.

Y/N’s skin had lost all warmth, her chest unmoving, her hand slipping from Wanda’s grasp. Her golden veins—once filled with the light of life—had gone black.

She was gone.

Really gone.

Wanda shook, the grief crawling up her throat in a scream that refused to come out. Her magic churned violently beneath her skin. The walls trembled. The sea roared.

“No,” she whispered. “No—no—no—NO!”

Red light exploded from her.

It shattered the glass.

Cracked the foundation.

The sky screamed with her.

“GIVE HER BACK!” Wanda sobbed, and with a scream that tore her soul in two, she placed both hands over Y/N’s heart.

A violent wave of chaos magic erupted outward—red and glowing and angry, laced with raw energy no spellbook ever dared to name.

“I don’t care what it takes—you don’t get to take her from me!”

Magic poured from her palms, surging directly into Y/N’s lifeless chest.

It crackled and hissed, merging with what little gold light remained deep within.

“COME BACK TO ME!”

The red swirled violently around Y/N’s body, burning like a second sun. The locket on the nightstand glowed brighter, vibrating, pulsing—like a heart desperate to beat again.

And then—

A gasp.

Y/N arched.

Her back lifted off the bed, golden light bursting from her mouth, her chest, her eyes.

Her veins, black and dead only seconds ago, flooded with warm golden light again—twisting through the darkness, consuming it. Purging it.

She collapsed back down, limp.

Wanda froze, eyes wide, panting.

“…Y/N?”

A breath.

Then another.

Y/N’s fingers twitched.

And her lips parted.

“Wanda…?”

Wanda threw herself onto her, sobbing in relief. “Oh my god—oh my god, you’re back—I thought I lost you—I thought I—”

But Y/N was blinking, dazed. “What… happened…?”

“You died,” Wanda choked out. “You died in my arms and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let you go!”

Her magic still glowed faintly along her arms, her skin shimmering with residual power.

“You brought me back?” Y/N asked weakly.

Wanda nodded. “I—I didn’t know if it would work. I didn’t care. I just needed you.”

Y/N touched Wanda’s face, her hand trembling. “I thought I used everything. I didn’t think I had anything left.”

“You didn’t,” Wanda said. “But I did. And I gave it to you.”

Wanda leaned her forehead against hers.

“This time,” she whispered, “you don’t get to leave me.”

Y/N exhaled, shaky and soft.

“I wasn’t trying to. I just didn’t know you’d want me to stay.”

“I want everything with you.”

They kissed—slow, trembling, full of salt and magic.

Outside, the sun rose over New Asgard, painting the sea in gold.

And for the first time in a long time…

Y/N’s heart beat not because of power or sacrifice—

But because someone had loved her back.

---

Three Years Later

The curtains fluttered gently in the breeze, sunlight spilling across the sheets in golden warmth. Wanda stirred slowly, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach—rounded and firm beneath her palm. Nearly five months now.

Her fingers traced the swell of life growing inside her, and a soft smile pulled at her lips.

But as she blinked into the morning light, the bed beside her was empty.

“Y/N?” she mumbled, pushing herself up carefully, concern immediately sparking in her chest.

Before she could swing her legs over the side, the bathroom door creaked open.

And there she was.

Y/N stepped out into the room, drying her face with a towel. Her hair was damp and pushed back messily, strands sticking to her forehead. She wore only a dark sports bra and shorts, muscles still lean and defined—though the smallest mark of black-red veins remained faint across her chest, like an old burn from another life.

Wanda’s eyes softened immediately.

Y/N caught her staring and smirked. “Good morning, my love.”

Wanda huffed a breath of relief, her smile growing. “You weren’t in bed.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Y/N said, padding over to the edge of the mattress. “Kid was kicking like they were trying to duel me.”

Wanda laughed. “Well, they are ours.”

Y/N leaned down, pressing a kiss to Wanda’s bump. “Good morning, tiny chaos.”

The baby kicked again in response, right beneath her lips.

Wanda let out a soft gasp and rested her hand over Y/N’s. “There. See?”

Y/N’s smile dimmed, just slightly, as her eyes drifted to the faint mark still etched over her chest.

Wanda noticed.

She reached up, cupping Y/N’s face gently. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Y/N whispered. “Not anymore. Just… reminds me I almost didn’t get this.”

Wanda brushed her thumb over Y/N’s jaw, her voice like a vow. “You did get this. You fought for this. For us.”

“I’d do it again,” Y/N said, leaning into her touch. “Even now.”

“You won’t need to.” Wanda pulled her in, kissing her slowly, deeply. “We’re here. We’re okay.”

Y/N nodded against her forehead. “Yeah. We are.”

She wrapped her arms around Wanda, pulling her in gently so that their bodies pressed close—her chin resting atop Wanda’s head, her hands resting over the soft swell of her stomach.

Then—

A kick.

A solid thump, right against Y/N’s ribs.

She blinked, then pulled back just slightly.

“I know you are here too, my little chaos”

Wanda laughed, eyes shining.

As if on cue, another little kick nudged against Y/N’s abdomen where it met Wanda’s bump—firm and insistent, like a tiny high-five.

Y/N’s eyes widened with awe. “You’ve got your mother’s timing.”

“And your stubbornness,” Wanda added with a proud smirk.

Y/N placed both hands reverently on Wanda’s belly, kneeling slightly so she was eye level with it. Her thumbs moved in soft circles over the warm skin, lips parting like she wanted to say something but couldn’t yet find the words.

And then she whispered, voice thick,

“You’re here too, huh?”

Another soft nudge.

Y/N’s throat tightened.

She kissed Wanda’s bump with trembling lips.

“Okay then,” she murmured. “We’ll take on this world together.”

Wanda watched her, tears in her eyes, heart full.

Three lives.

One love.

And all the time in the world ahead of them.

---

Let me know in the comments if you read both versions or only this one!

#wanda maximoff #graves fic reco's

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tyunningism · 2 days ago

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ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋᴡᴏʀᴍ’s ɢᴜɪᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴍᴜᴛ !!

(teaser !!!)

── .✦ pairing: c.sb x reader

When Soobin’s met with a new face at the library he’s unsure of how to react! Especially when you place down a pile of questionable books for him to scan he just can’t help but listen to your rants more intently than he should ₊˚ෆ

╰┈➤MDNI - NSFW content ahead...

…or in simple words… ʟɪʙʀᴀʀɪᴀɴ!sᴏᴏʙɪɴ x sᴍᴜᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᝰ.ᐟ teaser wc - 1k

expected release - September 10-15th

mentions!! and warnings!! (for full fic) sub!soobin x dom!reader, mutual masturbation, touching in semi-public space (library), whiny soob, unprotected p in v, light pinching, praise, nipple play, cum eating, soobin’s quite shy and wears glasses. perv!reader

tyunningism notes: the shorter fics are back again and this time with my fav sub!soobin bc everyone on my blr should know I love this man to bits. So I've written up the teaser as fast as I could for you guys to tune into before the full fic release <3

Soobin doesn’t have the greatest luck with romance— he doesn’t need to be reminded about that. Having wallowed himself in self-pity for 24 years the cliché fairytale endings he fawned over, with his hands cupping his cheeks, are almost nowhere to be found in his books of blank, boring pages.

It’s an ongoing joke he makes out of himself that if his love life were a book he’d consist of 99.99% filler, and would most definitely be paired with an equally, unappealingly plain cover plastered ‘8760 days of Choi Soobin not getting laid’. And every chapter would begin with the same heartbreaking story of how he’s born with a natural cast to him that spells away any woman within 5 feet of him aside from his mom; who is constantly ushering him to bring home a loving girlfriend now that he’s reached his sombre mid-twenties.

Well, it’s looking quite sombre for him already working as a librarian on the weekends while the rest of his friends are spending their twenties with arguably cooler jobs in their own respective lives (not to mention filled with women too). To Soobin at least, being a top-viewed streamer like Beomgyu or a choreographer like his friend Yeonjun is miles better than sorting out torn and crappy books borrowed way past their due dates.

Books that found themselves on someone’s desk left just as untouched and unread as it was on the shelf they were picked off, and where he’d have to place them back into later before heading back to the confines of the front desk— to you guessed it, scan another pile of mundane novels and travel guides.

With that being said, there is a little something the librarian secretly looks forward to every shift. A break from the constant gentle hushing he can’t bring himself to emphasise any louder when a group of students are too loud. A break from the flicking of pages and clicking of keyboards that bounce off the high ceilings of the library when you creep inside with two or three books Soobin can recall you borrowing from the day before.

That’s what makes his day definitively less boring knowing you’re actually interested in reading the pink lovey-dovey books you force him to scan with sparkly eyes while your lips spell out each memorised line of the books you borrowed from your last visit here. You never miss the opportunity to speak passionately even in front of an awkward robot like Soobin who’s programmed to only smile and nod in response. But that’s not to blame him for being awkward…okay maybe it is partially to do with that, but it’s mainly to do with the shock factor of your words that leave your prettily shaped lips which seem incapable of such explicit lust.

See it started from when Soobin first turned up to work in his oddly squared glasses and knitted brown sweater during the early phases of fall. A long but bearable line had formed at the desk as people rushed to leave with their books before they could be stranded by the downpour of rain forecasted later that day. His hair was slightly tousled from the number of times he ran a hand down his scalp in frustration when the old library system— designed a decade before he was born— refused to sync with the scanner clutched in his palm.

Despite the poor first impression of a slightly annoyed version of him you had placed one of your books down onto the desk with a welcoming smile being the last person at the end of the long line. He remembers the way your eyes strip searched him the second he reached for the book; a nervous gulp caught halfway in his throat as you leaned your weight onto the desk and inched closer with your elbows resting on the wood.

‘Rêves De La Demoiselle Érotique’ he had whispered the title mindlessly and butchered the pronunciation terribly upon first glance of yet another plain cover, although salmon-pink and leather hard-back with a foreign title he wasn’t literate enough in French to decipher.

“You would so freak out if I told you what that meant Mr Librarian.” He remembers being caught off guard too by the exact charm to your voice he’s still drawn to now. When you had giggled at his confusion, and then laughed harder when he pointed to the tacky ‘Hello, my name is Soobin’ badge pinned proper through the holes of his knitted sweater.

It wasn’t a great start that he forgot to use his words with you, completely enamoured by the sound of lightweight laughter to even try to protest your assumption when you began to ramble shortly after seeing his perked eyebrows and suddenly straightened posture.

“It’s French for Dreams of an Erotic Damsel. Crazy, isn’t it? At first glance it looks really boring but I’m surprised I managed to get off to it like four times? — that was TMI wasn’t it? I forgot that Heeseung doesn’t work here anymore but if he did, he would’ve jacked off to it like ten times. And don’t even get me started on—”

The rest of your rant has since become fuzzy in the librarian’s memory. Now only being able to recall the vital (loud) parts of your introduction to him as you delved into the gritty details of the rated 18 book you had shamelessly passed onto him to scan before digging into his business.

“You don’t look like the type to read smutty novels Soobin? Your handwriting is horrible you know, like geez, the double Os look like boobs,” looking down at his name badge once more he quickly scrambled to cover it in embarrassment while you entertained yourself in watching him become flustered so easily. Input and output guys, you’d like to call it with how they reacted perfectly suited to your tastes with a bit of teasing and playful dirtiness, “but you don’t seem to hate the idea of smut books either with how you’re blushing ear to ear right now. I’ve been dying to find a new book buddy now that Hee’s left!”

And that leads the two of you to present day. President and vice-president of Tyunningism Library’s Smut Book Club consisting of you and him, him and you— his new budding crush and on the side lines his ‘literature sex’ reader partner too.

current txt perma-tag: @gyutaepie @ruinxas @gyuuchuuu @chocomoas @satan-223 @whoisgami @glitteryheartbanana @bambiihee @asteroidshowers @camryn-haitani @prkhaven @yvampyr @filmnings @bloomri @lwhyuka @angelhyuka @forwinterstars @starsmew @black-startxt @gildedsilk @iheartyaemiko @hyunj00 @fancypeacepersona

want to join the perma-tag? Visit my blog's taglist page or send me an ask/message <3

Fic taglist is open !! 📖

Current fic taglist: @fairyofshampgyu

#tyunningism writes!!#tomorrow x together #soobin smut #soobin #soobin x reader #txt smut #yeonjun #taehyun #hueningkai #beomgyu #soobin hard hours #txt hard hours #txt fic #kpop smut

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strawberrynull · 1 day ago

Text

──☆ ˙🌀 ̟ the best kind of revenge

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Sim Jaeyun

──Pairing: bfs!friend!jake x reader

──Genre: smut (with plot)

──Synopsis: After many suspicions, you find out that your boyfriend, Heeseung had cheated on you with several girls. In a blur of rage, you decide to get revenge by seeing one of his best friend who he banned you from talking to

──Warnings: cursing, Jake is referred to as Jaeyun, Jae and Yunnie, cheating (Hee), breakup, revenge, blindfold, yelling, manipulation (hee), guilt tripping (also hee😭), cucking, unprotected (wrap it), I probably missed a few things so please lmk ALSO NOT PROOFREAD LOL

──A/N: I have like 100+ wips in my notes app rn. Also omg while finishing writing this I realized I haven’t updated my copyright watermark type thing since 2024 holy shit

Masterlist:

Heeseung was a goddamn cheater.

You had suspected that this was happening for a while but never had the heart to ask anyone about it. Much less ask Heeseung. Only now had it been confirmed once and for all. Your nightmare had come true.

About an hour ago, your best friend Ningning had called you urgently. She claimed it was an emergency and you had to come to the campus library right away. So you did just that. You trusted your best friends judgement so you quickly ran your ass over to the library where Ningning stopped you at the entrance.

She shushed you, telling you not to make a sound when you two entered the building. She quietly lead you to a corner in the back of the room before pointing to one of the bookshelves. It had some books missing, exposing what was on the other side of the shelf.

Through the gaps, you saw what Ningning had said was so urgent. It was none other than your boyfriend Heeseung. He was making out with a girl who definitely was not you. You couldn’t fucking believe what you were looking at.

Your best friend dragged you out of the library before you could start yelling at Heeseung. You two needed to talk privately about this before any rash decisions were made.

Apparently, Ningning had asked around while she was waiting for you to arrive. She knew everyone on campus so it was easy to find out any info she needed. Nothing ever got past her. Ever.

So of course she had asked all of her friends if they had ever been suspicious of Heeseung cheating. None of them hesitated to say yes. According to them, this wasn’t the first time Heeseung had done something like this. Ningning didn’t ask anyone for details so you could only imagine the things he’s done with other girls before coming back to your dorm with an innocent grin plastered across his face.

You and Ningning rushed back to your dorm, getting settled in the living room with cozy blankets and many snacks. Your best friend gave you a long lecture about how you needed to break up with him and how she knew this would happen eventually. Heeseung was always popular with girls so she wasn’t necessarily wrong.

The conversation was cut short when you heard your apartment door open. There was only one person who would be coming back to your dorm this late. Lee Heeseung. The two of you turned toward the door then back at each other, silently agreeing on what needed to be done in this moment.

You both sat back on the couch, crossing your arms as Heeseung came into view with that same innocent grin as always. “Hey baby” he cautiously eyed Ningning who had a death glare plastered across her face. “Hello Ningning.”

“Where have you been all night… babe?” You ask, feigning ignorance.

“The library, why?” He says truthfully which surprises you. You expected a blatant lie from him.

“With who?” You raise an eyebrow, wondering what lie he’d make up about why he would be in the library. He had never been the type to study.

“Myself?? I was studying.”

“Fuck off, Heeseung, we all know you don’t study!” Ningning shoots back before you can continue to peacefully investigate.

He flinches, chuckling nervously before speaking up again. “Hey, people can change!” He throws his hands up in defense. “I’ve decided to start studying so I won’t fail.” He lies, fully expecting you to believe him and be excited for his ‘change in character.’

“you sure don’t ever change though.” Ningning stares daggers at the boy, making him wipe the sweat off his palms, swallowing.

“What are you talking about?” Heeseung chuckles nervously.

You sigh as you push yourself up from the couch and stride over to Heeseung. “Do you think I’m stupid Hee?” You say, lowering your voice.

“No of course not, baby!” Why would-“ he tries to reach for you but you smack his hands away. He freezes, a look of shock flashing across his face. “B-baby?” He stutters, unsure of what to say.

“Oh yeah?” You scoff “Look me in the eyes and tell me what you were doing in the library.”

“I told you already, babe. I was studying so I could impress you.” He lied again hidden by a sweet smile before he reached out for you. His hands came to your hips but you were quick to push him away again.

“Don’t touch me after you touched that other girl and can’t even admit it.” You hiss, finally showing him how much you know. Your voice is raised slightly as you start to lose control over your emotions. The ability to hold back what you truly wanted to say to him was quickly slipping through your fingers like sand.

Heeseungs eyes widened, realizing that you knew more than he thought. He wouldn’t be able to hide his cheating tendencies from you any longer. Now that you knew about what he did in the library, he was sure you would find out about his past hookups.

“How many times have you hooked up with some other girl before coming back to my dorm?” You asked but the boy couldn’t answer. He could only swallow the lump in his throat while he searched his mind for another lie to cover his tracks.

“Y/n…” he starts, sounding sad and almost disappointed. “I don’t know what lies Ningning is feeding you, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.” He explained calmly despite his racing guilty heart that proved how anxious he was right now.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about because I was there, Lee Heeseung.” You snap back, your patience running dangerously thin. You were close to losing it completely.

“Well if you were there, you’d know that I was studying… with Jay.” He adds on with a nod, proud of his blatant lie.

Ningning shot up from the couch, looking highly offended. “Don’t even bring Jay into this! He’s been out with Riki at the mall all day so don’t use his name to cover your sorry ass.” She slams her foot down, outraged by all of the obvious lies being told to you, her best friend.

“Y/n baby, don’t believe her-“

“Shut the fuck up!” You yell, fed up with the lies and the arguing. You take a second to breathe before looking up directly into Heeseungs widened eyes. “Tell me the truth or get out.” Your tone is stern, leaving him no room for making excuses.

“Damn it…” Heeseung groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Fine! It’s true. I fucking made out with some chick in the library!” He throws his hands up in defense as if you and Ningning were the ones being ridiculous.

“How many times did you do this, Heeseung,” you ask in a deadpan tone.

“Just once-“

“Bullshit!” Ningning yells, cutting him off. “I’ve asked around and people see you pulling this shit several times a week! Don’t even think about lying.”

“This is fucking ridiculous! You have absolutely no proof so don’t even-“ Ningnings phone is shoved in his face. “… accuse… me…” His voice trails off, realizing he’s really fucked up as he looks at the screen. There’s a group chat called ‘Exposing Hoe-seung’ where students around campus have sent in pictures they have secretly taken of Heeseungs secret hookups.

You stare at Heeseung as his gaze drops to the floor. He looks truly guilty and regretful for what he’s done.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Ningning asks in a threatening tone, crossing her arms over her chest.

Heeseung looks back up from the ground, flashing you his big Bambi eyes. “Fuck…” he whispers “I’m sorry baby. I swear it won’t happen anymore. I swear.” He tried to plead with you, reaching for your hands.

I flinch, pulling my hands away. “It’s too late now. We’re over, Heeseung. Get out.” You deadpan and his eyes widen. His hands come up, trying to reach for you once again. For the last time.

“But I told you the truth baby. I-“

“Get. Out.” You interrupt, shaking your head in disbelief. “Now.”

Heeseung lets out a a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Then he turned and left your dorm, making sure to slam the front door behind him.

As soon as Heeseung leaves, you break down. You cry and yell and bawl your eyes out and, of course, your best friend sits and listens to you vent. Eventually you calm down, realizing your best friend has always been there for you even when Heeseung wasn’t.

You and Ningning left your dorm just in case Heeseung decided to come back. Instead, you two went back to her dorm.

Soon enough, you and your best friend started coming up with wild ways to get back at him. “What you need is a good revenge story.” Ningning stated, already plotting in her head.

While talking up a plan to get back at your now ex boyfriend, Ningnings roommates friend, Sim Jaeyun walked into the dorm. Your best friend turned to you with a smug smile on her face. The two of you shared knowing looks. You had found your perfect revenge.

In all honesty, you were quite fond of Jaeyun before you had started dating Heeseung. He was smart, kind, and really cute. You two were close and hung out often. It all stopped though when you and Heeseung got together and he told poor Jaeyun to fuck off. And that he did. You were forced to block him on everything and not talk to him. You two hadn’t spoken ever since. That was until today.

“Hey Ning. Hey… y/n” he hesitated to say your name and it almost made your heart break. “It’s good to see you.”

You didn’t even realize how much you missed his Aussie accent. It had to have been one of your favorite things about him, though he had many admirable features. You gave him a sweet smile and a wave.

“Oh uh actually,” he stopped in his tracks and walked up to were you and Ningning were sitting. “I heard what happened… well some of it. Heeseung kinda… told the whole group chat.”

“Well I’m sure he didn’t tell you the full story. He tends to leave out important details.” You say, unimpressed with Heeseungs actions.

“He told us about the cheating and how you broke up with him…” Jaeyun explained, making you raise an eyebrow. “I just wanna say that I’m sorry you had to go through that. None of us knew about it until now.”

Your eyebrows raised further. They really didn’t know? “No need to apologize Jae. There’s nothing you could have done if you were unaware.” You were honestly surprised none of them knew, especially since Jaeyun was Heeseungs roommate. You were secretly glad he didn’t know though. It made the whole revenge gig a lot easier.

Jaeyun went Riki, Ningnings roommates, room. You and Ningning spent the next few hours planning out a flawless revenge plan. The plan was completely unnecessary though since the revenge you sought just seemed to fall into your hands.

Jaeyun left Rikis room, passing you and your best friend on the way out. Thought he didn’t pass up the chance to say bye to you directly. Just like he used to.

“Oh um… actually y/n… can we talk for a minute?” He asked shyly from the doorway. You nodded and followed him out into the hallway.

“So what’s up?” You asked as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to avoid eye contact. You found this adorable. He was still just as cute as he was before you stopped talking. Still the same old Jaeyun. He bit his lip in anticipation, the same way he used to bite his lip when he was nervous. You almost felt the need to laugh. He looked up at you with big puppy-like eyes which were also the same. The only thing that had changed was his hair. He had grown it out slightly since the last time you saw him.

“Um well… things have been rough since I haven’t been able to see you.” He started which made you raise an eyebrow.

“You missed me that much?” You laughed softly. His eyes widened as he realized what he said.

“N-no! I mean it’s been rough between us! You know?” He quickly spat out, his cheeks flushing a dark red.

“I get it Jae.” You giggled, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance. “I’m just teasing you.”

“Ah… o-okay” he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Anyways I was thinking… maybe we could catch up sometime?”

“I’d love to.” You reply, making his face light up. “You still have my number right?”

Jaeyun gives a frantic nod, trying his best to bite back a grin. “I do, although I’m still blocked.”

“Since Heeseung is out of the picture, I’ll unblock you and let you know when I’m free, yeah?” He nods again before you wish him goodnight and head back inside the dorm.

Jaeyun is more than thrilled. He’s ecstatic. Nearly jumping off the walls. He couldn’t wait another second before seeing you again. So he invited you over the next day. And the next. And the next. The next whole week was spent hanging out with Jaeyun every day after your classes.

Ningning would complain that your ultimate revenge was taking too long but you argued back, saying it needed time or else it would seem fake. So you continued to hang out with Jaeyun. Suddenly, most of your time was spent with him. Even Heeseung would catch you two together. He would bite his lip and quickly look away and you knew just how guilty he felt.

Before you knew it, Jaeyun started making moves. His hand would brush yours while walking and he would slip his fingers into yours or he would snake his arm around your waist. Specifically when Heeseung was around, he would go as far as to put his hand on your thigh, hoping the elder would notice.

Just like you had hoped for, the revenge just seemed to fall into your hands. You knew it was time when you arrived to Jaeyuns dorm one day and he was holding a bouquet of assorted flowers. He shyly handed them to you, biting his lip trying but failing to hold back a wide grin.

Jaeyun explained how he had liked you even before you met Heeseung. And how he still did like you… One thing lead to another and suddenly his soft lips were all over yours. The rhythm of his kisses were almost desperate as if he really needed you. And secretly, he sure did need you.

“Hey y/n…” he started hesitantly. “Can we… um sit on the couch and… you know…” he asked, practically forcing himself away from you temping lips. Jaeyun stumbled over his words nervously. The way he bit his lip when he was anxious never failed to catch your eye.

Heeseung wouldn’t be back to the dorm for a while. You knew where he was and who he was with this time. He was, surprisingly, actually studying. You knew this because your friend Momo was tutoring him because he was failing and wouldn’t pass this year if he didn’t receive help.

You nodded, agreeing to Jaeyuns suggestion. You let him lead you to the couch, lips never leaving yours, until the backs of his legs hit the couch. He sat down slowly, pulling you down onto his lap. Now you were sitting on the couch Heeseung had fucked you countless times on. This was bringing back memories and they were only egging you on to take this revenge. Now instead of making out with Heeseung on the couch, it was Jaeyun. It made you feel a slight pang of guilt. It didn’t last long though when Jaeyuns lips crashed back onto yours in a needy manner. He was making you forget about your ex without a second thought. The thought of revenge was slipping from your mind and Jaeyun started to consume your thoughts.

You kissed the boy back hungrily; fingers playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. His lips parted enough for you to slip your tongue into his mouth, dragging it over his. He groaned into your mouth, quickly gripping your hips tightly.

His kisses were more sweet than lustful. He took his time with each one. It was the complete opposite of what you were used to. The pace you had gotten used to was fast and harsh. Jaeyun dug his nails into the skin of your hips with his eyebrows furrowed, clearly not used to this. You had to slow down your pace to match his so he could relax.

Deciding to test the waters, you began to slowly roll your hips forward. Jaeyun’s breath hitched and he bit his lip to hold a groan as he threw his head back. “Fuck- oh my god” His hips jerked up toward yours as his hands practically flew to your waist, gripping tightly. “Please…” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Please what, Jae?” You ask softly, combing your fingers through his dark hair.

“Please keep doing that…” he said, now just barely above a whisper. You smirked to yourself, thoroughly pleased with his reaction. And so you did exactly what he asked. You ground your hips harder against his, feeling his crotch begin to harden beneath you. The second you started feeling his hardness press against your clothed core, your stomach did flips. You felt giddy, more than you had ever felt for Heeseung. Jake was already 10 times better and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. There was something different about Jaeyun that excited you way more than Heeseung ever could. Yet you couldn’t quite put your finger on it yet.

“Jae…” you played with the hem of his shirt between your fingers “can you take this off for me?” You asked softly, looking up at him through your thick lashes, pupils blown out with desire. He couldn’t resist that look. Not now, not ever. He made quick work of discarding his shirt, tossing it to some corner of the room that didn’t matter at the moment. All he could focus on was you. That, and not letting the loudest moans slip past his swollen lips.

A while later, you heard your phone ding in your pocket. You reached back to take out your phone and check the message while still clinging to Jaeyun. It was a text from Momo, which made your smirk fade. This wasn’t a good sign. Apparently Heeseung had left tutoring in a fit or rage because he was frustrated at the work. You mentally chuckled, knowing it was all his fault for being behind. Yet this was totally bad for the situation you were in right now because it meant Heeseung was on his way back to the dorm. This wasn’t good. If Heeseung showed up while you and Jaeyun were making out, or more, Jae would totally get embarrassed and chicken out.

You had only about 10 minutes to decide what to do. So far, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to make Heeseung upset, or if you wanted to keep Jaeyun from being embarrassed and potentially leaving. You were leaning more on the side of upsetting your ex. But you also had the greatest plan.

“Do you trust me, Jae?” You asked him suddenly, catching him off guard.

He turned toward you with curiosity in his eyes. “Y-yeah, why?”

“Do you wanna try something a little… different?”

Jaeyuns eyes widened slightly and you could feel him twitch under you in anticipation. “Um, s-sure?” He looked at you nervously. But there was this curious glint in his eyes… and maybe a hint of something else.

Noticing the nervousness in his tone, you brought a hand up to rub soft, reassuring circles on his cheek. He smiled and leaned into your touch. He made your heart melt. You didn’t want to hurt him if your plan didn’t work out but you really wanted to get back at Heeseung. It was the original plan, after all. But the way Jaeyun looked at you. So innocent. So pure. So kind. It made you wanna just forget about the revenge. But then again… revenge sounded kinda nice…

Fuck it.

You reached down and undid the button of his jeans with practiced ease. Almost too easily like you had done it a thousand time, which was probably true at that point.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do…” you whispered, rushed and almost desperate. His eyes rolled back for a split second before focusing back on your face.

“Yes- fuck… yes I need you” your stomach did flips once again at his needy tone and you had to hold yourself back from pouncing on him right then and there.

You smiled sweetly and lowered the zipper of his jeans painfully slow while he bit his lip. You were going too slow even for him. He reached down with shaky hands and slid his jeans down his thighs with a desperate speed. He was left in just his boxers which were now tented in the front from his growing erection.

“Already so hard. All because of me?” You asked softly, already knowing the answer. He nodded frantically, biting his lip even harder than before. “Good” you whispered and eased his boxers down, letting his hardening cock spring free. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and his hands quickly found there way back to your hips like they were his life support.

You hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties to the side. Jaeyuns eyes widened and he had to physically stop himself from moaning just at the sight of your bare body in front of him.

His fun was quickly spoiled though. You reached back behind your head to untie the black ribbon in your hair. Then it was placed it over Jaeyuns eyes and tied behind his head. “Is that alright Jae?” You asked, combing his hair with your fingers. He nodded vigorously, squeezing your waist gently. You saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. “Just relax” you whispered softly and you could physically see the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Are we going to… um…” he spoke quietly, his hips jerking upward, trying to find the friction he desired.

“Have sex?” You finished the sentence for him and he nodded hesitantly. “Only if you want to.”

“Yes- yes please” he said in a hushed and breathy tone. His hands trailed up and down your body, grabbing at your hips and shirt, desperately trying to ground himself. “Please y/n… I need to feel you.” he pleaded, voice turning slightly whiny as you teased his tip through your wetness.

Before you could even give him a chance to think, you were already sinking down on him, making him groan through gritted teeth. His hands quickly gripped your hips, nails digging into your skin and you hissed at the stretch. He wasn’t as long as Heeseung but he was definitely thicker. You steadied yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders. You needed to hold yourself up at this point because Jaeyun was involuntarily pulling you down onto him.

“Jaeyun, just try to relax.” You whispered softly next to his ear, causing him to shiver visibly.

His grip on you loosened slightly and he stuck his tongue out to wet his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to but- fuck… you feel so good” he groaned and slowly rolled his hips up into you, biting his lip as he did so.

“It’s okay. Just try your best.” You cooed, caressing his cheek to calm him down a bit.

A groan tore past your lips despite your efforts to keep it in. Jaeyun was just bigger than you were used to. Heeseung had been your first so his dick was the only one you had ever known. Sure, you had dated your fair share of guys, but none lasted long enough to actually fuck. Or maybe none of them wanted to. Heeseung was different as soon as you met him. Fucking was kinda all he ever wanted to do. Of course he did normal boyfriend things like hang out with you and take you out… barely. Though, your usual schedule with him was: come over, make out, fuck, shower, sleep, and fuck again. It was honestly exhausting. Besides, his dick never did much for you anyways. Sure, it was long and he tended to brag about it but it didn’t feel nearly as good as Jaeyuns. Plus there was no emotion involved when Heeseung and you had sex. It was just fuck, sleep, and do it again.

“Y/n please. You’re killing me.” He say, breath coming out heavy and forced. His control is quickly slipping at the way you move like you’ve experienced it all. He appreciates that— he’ll take anything and everything you’re willing to give him with no complaints as if you already own him. Jaeyun was so different from Heeseung already. He was barely half way inside of you yet he was putting all his emotion into every second of this. Every time he searched for your lips or whined like he needed more; or every time he gripped onto you a bit tighter, whispering “please” as if you weren’t already prepared to give him your pussy 24/7. He was so sweet and so good to you. You were definitely making him yours after all this revenge shit was over.

He continued to let out small gasps like you were rewarding him. The you heard a click at the dorms front door, making Jaeyun freeze up. His head shot up and turned in the direction of the door. Shit. Heeseung was back already and there was no way you were getting out of this one, even with him blindfolded.

“Is someone home, y/n?” He asked anxiously with a tone that made your heart break. You knew why he was so nervous. It would be so embarrassing for him to be caught with his dick in his best friends ex. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what you wanted to happen.

“No, don’t worry Yunnie. It was probably the dorm across from us.” You lied through your teeth. It was a stupid lie but you were good at controlling your tone so it was believable. Jaeyun let out a revealed sigh, letting his head fall back against the couch. You took the opportunity to start trailing your lips along his jawline. Just as you started, Heeseung walked into the living room. You trailed your lips lower. Your ex stopped in his tracks, realizing what was going on. He watched as you sucked on his best friends neck, leaving marks an earning pleasured groans. Heeseungs jaw dropped in a mixture of disbelief and pure rage.

When you noticed him staring at the filthy scene in front of him, you moved your hips the exact way the Heeseung liked, just to test his patience. And it was clearly very thin. You noticed the way his jaw tightened and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was practically boiling with anger and you could almost see smoke coming from his ears like a cartoon.

Jaeyun clawed desperately at your hips, biting his lip to muffle a moan the neighbors would definitely hear if he hadn’t. The friction was delicious. You already knew that from the way Heeseung would react when you used to do it to him. But now it was his best friend getting the special treatment while he watched in jealousy and maybe a hint of regret.

Heeseung rolled his eyes and moved across the room, silently making his way to the kitchen. You wanted to take it up a notch though— to keep the attention on you and the revenge even more satisfying. Taking a handful of Jaeyuns hair, you pulled gently, earning a choked gasp as his hips bucked up toward yours. The sound of Jaeyuns gasp and the slap of wet skin made Heeseungs head snap toward the two of you. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you now. His gaze raked up and down your body with a clenched jaw. When he finally peeled his eyes away from you, he took out his phone and began typing something. Then you noticed the bulge forming in his sweatpants and let out a teasing giggle.

“Ohhh you like that, huh?” You asked, not directly at Heeseung but not directly at Jaeyun either.

Jae moaned loudly as you tugged at his hair again. “Yes- fuck! I love it.”

Heeseung flipped around his phone to show you what he typed out. It read “You’re sick”

“I know” you laughed, still not entirely directed at either of them specifically. Heeseung rolled his eyes and yanked down his hoodie to cover the front of his pants before making his way toward his bedroom.

Then the boy under you began to whine louder. “Y/n I’m close. Please… let me…” he pleaded shyly. Heeseung couldn’t help but turn back and stare for a few moments more. A smirk tugged at your lips when you caught him watching. Jaeyun leaned forward in attempt to find your lips, making you chuckle softly before helping him out and closing the distance between you. He moaned and whined into the kiss, bucking his hips wildly in desperation to crate more friction. You stopped paying attention to Heeseung who was now fighting the urge to palm himself through his pants right there in front of you. “Shit- I’m cumming y/n!” Jaeyun moaned. Heeseung rolled his eyes once more before entering his room and closing the door without a sound.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well Yunnie.” You cooed in his ear as you pulled at his hair again. He let out a whimper at the nickname, pulling you against him as his hips stuttered against yours. You felt it as he spilled his release into you which seemed to go on forever. He let your name slip past his lips repeatedly like a chant. His grip on you loosened when his hips stopped moving against yours and you played with his hair gently, waiting for his breathing to slow down back to normal.

“You doing alright Yunnie?” You ask quietly, kissing his cheek.

“Yeah, I didn’t think i would uh… um” he took his bottom lip between his teeth nervously out of habit.

“What? You didn’t know you would like being blindfolded?” You giggled back, almost teasingly.

Jaeyun laughed “yeah… that. But,” he reached a hand up to hold your hand that was still playing with his hair. He brought your hand down to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “You’re so amazing, I think I’d like anything as long as it’s you.” Your cheeks flushed and you giggled nervously, taking off the makeshift blindfold.

“There you go. Now I can your pretty eyes.” A soft smile tugged at the corners of your mouth and the boy bit his lip with a breathy chuckle.

He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I uh… should go change.”

“Right.” You nodded, quickly moving off his lap. Jaeyun stands up from the couch awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck like this was some kind of hook up. Then he suddenly leaned over you to leave a chaste kiss on your lips, changing the awkward mood. You giggle quietly at his sweet action as he walks into his bedroom to change. You touched your lips gingerly, feeling your heart race.

A few minutes after Jaeyun disappeared into his room, Heeseung came out of his room and made his way to the kitchen. “Are you done sleeping around with my friends?” He asked in a cocky tone, not bothering to even look your way.

You whipped your head around at his snarky remark with a scowl on your face. “Are you calling me a whore? Because that’s rich coming from you, Lee Heeseung.” As you were replying to Heeseungs comment, Jaeyuns bedroom door opened.

“Well if the shoe fits…” Heeseung mumbles but you hear it. And it pisses you off.

You scoff and raise your tone at him. “Are you fucking kidding me!? How about you tell me how many girls you were sleeping with while we were together!”

Jaeyun looked around the room in confusion and concern. “W-what’s going on? And when did Heeseung get back?”

“He got here while you were changing. And he was also just lecturing me about who I get to have sex with.” You said through clenched teeth, hatred laced in your tone.

“Would have to if you weren’t fucking around with my best friend-“

“You are a fucking hypocrite!” You yelled, shooting up from your seat on the couch. Jaeyun rushed to your side, wrapping an arm around your torso in attempt to console you.

Heeseung strode closer to you, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue is frustration. “Who’s next, y/n? You gonna fuck Sunghoon?” I asked with raised brows. “Ohhhh or maybe you like the sweet guys who don’t like saying no. So how about Jeongseong next?” Your control snapped and you jolted forward, ready to hit him but Jaeyun kept his grip on you, holding you back.

“Shut the hell up Heeseung!” You shot back angrily, trying to escape the boys arms.

“Woah slow down…” Jaeyun said softly, trying to calm you down. Unsuccessfully.

“Oh, you wanna play that game? Who are you gonna sleep with next? Is Ningning on your list?” You snapped, pointing at him accusingly.

“Maybe I will. Then we would be even since you decided it was a good idea to revenge fuck Jake.” He tilted his head teasingly with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. He knew what he was doing. He was trying to get Jaeyun to stop trusting you. You could feel his grip on your waist loosen slightly, causing your heart to sink.

You whipped your head towards him quickly, starting to panic. “Yun- Yunnie, don’t listen to him. Please. It’s not true.” You pleaded softly.

“Hey hey shh, I trust you.” He ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “It’s just hurts to hear him say it like that.” You still couldn’t help but feel guilty. In all truthfulness, it did begin as revenge against Heeseung. Jaeyun didn’t need to know that even though he probably already did figure that out. But you had realized eventually that you really did like him and didn’t want this to be a one time thing. You truly hoped he noticed that too. None of that changed the fact it initially had foul intent though. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, mind racing.

“Yunnie?” He scoffed in disgust. “That’s your pet name for him?” He shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I think you’ve said enough Heeseung. We’re leaving now.” Jaeyun put his foot down, having finally heard enough bullshit. He adjusted his grip on your waist and pulled you closer to him, taking a step toward the door. Your ex moved to the side to block you two from leaving the dorm. Jaeyuns brows furrowed and a frown formed on his face. “The fuck are you doing?”

“I don’t think I have said enough. So you aren’t leaving until I’m done.” He smirked, feeling a cocky power surge at how angry he was making you. He was definitely trying to get you angry enough to blurt out something you shouldn’t. Heeseung thought his plan was working but Jaeyun had other plans.

“Alright fine. If you won’t let us leave, we’ll do it here.” He shrugged, pulling you toward the couch.

“Wait, huh? Do what?” You asked nervously, looking back and forth between the two boys.

“Heeseung wasn’t supposed to be back for hours. He’s interrupting.” He explained softly with a sweet smile despite the mischief in his eyes. “If he won’t let us leave to have our alone time in private, we’ll do it right in front of him.” Jaeyun pushed you gently to lay in the corner of the couch and leaned over you. His hands trailed up your torso, under your shirt. His other hand went down to tug at the hem of his pants.

“Ever been cucked, Hee?” Jaeyun raised a brow. His eyes were dark and you could tell he was 100% serious.

“Fine! I’ll fucking leave.” Heeseung rolled his eyes dramatically, turning harshly toward the door and slamming it shut behind him.

There was a moment of quiet while you both stared at the door. Then you looked back at him and finally broke the silence. “Yunnie…” you said hesitantly and he looked back at you with that signature sweet smile. “What were you gonna do if he hadn’t left after you said that?”

“I have no problem fucking you in front of him.” He whispered in an almost innocent tone despite his filthy words.

Your eyes widened dramatically. “Yunnie, you can’t be serious…” you chuckled nervously.

“I was gonna do it either way. And this time I wanna make you mine officially, yeah?” He grabbed your waist and pulled your body flush against his, face burying in the crook of your neck as he inhaled deeply. “Will you let me make you mine?”

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scoopsahoy · 14 hours ago

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bubble bath

clark kent x reader word count | 714 warnings | none ˗ˏˋ masterlist ˎˊ˗

When you and Clark moved in together, one of his main criteria was a nice sized bathtub. He knew you loved to take a nice hot bath, so he wanted you to be able to have that.

And you found the perfect apartment. Good area, only a ten minute walk from The Daily Planet, a nice kitchen, and a bigger bedroom than either of you had. And most importantly? A big bathtub. It was so big, in fact, that he managed to sit without bending his legs. And if six-foot-four Clark Kent could sit in the tub with his legs straight, you definitely could.

And, as he came to admit, he loved baths as much as you. Especially after a LuthorCorp robot slammed him into the ground or a giant otherworldly monster crushed him under its foot. The hot water surrounding him, soaking his muscles was a massive relief for him.

Sometimes, even though it was slightly embarrassing, he asked you to help him when he was in pain. So you would pull up a stool and sit next to the tub, scrubbing his back with a sudsy loofah, and helping him relax.

One night, you were collarbone deep in the tub, bubbles covering the surface of the water. Your hair was up in a bun, only the wispy pieces on the underneath getting wet. He arrived home from some fight, still in his suit when he entered the bathroom.

You watched him limp over to the counter, sitting on the edge as he rubbed his eyes. His suit was torn on the shoulder, and you knew you'd be sewing it up tomorrow.

"How was it?" you asked, knowing the answer.

"I think I sprained my ankle or something."

"I didn't even know you could do that."

"I also got hit really hard on my back. I'm sure it's bruised up."

"Why don't you join me? The water is still hot."

"You sure? I'm not super clean right now."

"You know that's what baths are for, right?"

He nodded. "Good point."

"Come on."

He slowly stripped his suit off, wincing a bit. He was indeed bruised on his back, a diagonal brown spot across his shoulder blades. He walked over, completely naked, and you scooted up in the tub slightly. He sat so he was facing away from you, your knees spreading around his body.

He leaned so his back was flat against your stomach and you wrapped your arms around his body, hugging him tightly. You pressed a kiss to his temple and he sighed into you. This was the first time he'd had to bend his knees to fit, but you hugging him offset the discomfort that causes.

He wrapped his hand around your upper arm and smiled to himself, stroking your skin with his thumb.

"Feel good?" you whispered, pressing your cheek against the top of his head.

"Mhm. Better with you in here with me."

"Yeah. I like it." You wet your hand and wiped his shoulder in the place his suit was ripped, specks of dirt freckling his skin. "What was it tonight?"

"Same thing as always. Lex."

"Mm. He's kind of obsessed with you."

"You don't say."

"You think he secretly likes you?"

"Trust me. He doesn't."

"I think he might," you teased. "Just wish he showed it differently."

"Yeah. Me too." You pressed another kiss to his face, this time on his cheek. "How was your day?"

"Better than yours, apparently. Perry sent me to that new cafe a mile from the office to interview the owner. Try to get them publicity. They have some pretty good coffee."

"You tried some?"

"They gave me a free cup. We should go sometime."

"I'll never turn down good coffee."

"Even though you don't need it?"

"I like the taste."

You gave him one more kiss before you washed his dirty hair for him. By the time you were getting out, he was able to walk again and the bruise on his back was mostly gone. But he was still tired, and he wound up falling asleep before you could join him in bed.

Woken up from you crawling in bed to join him, he pulled your body into his, holding you tightly as you both drifted off to sleep.

#fanfic #fanfiction #smut #imagine #clark kent #clark kent fanfic #clark kent fanfiction #clark kent fluff #clark kent x reader #clark kent x reader fanfic #clark kent x reader fanfiction #clark kent x reader imagine #clark kent x reader fluff #superman #superman fanfic #superman fanfiction #superman fluff

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woso-story · 2 days ago

Text

Game, Set, Love

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Sunlight filtered through the light linen curtains of your seaside villa, casting golden streaks across the white bedsheets. You stretched lazily, turning over to find Alexia already awake beside you, scrolling through her phone with her messy blonde hair tucked behind her ears and a peaceful smile on her face.

“Buenos días,” she murmured, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“Morning,” you replied, smiling. “Ready to stop being a lizard and actually move your body today?”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I’ve earned my right to lay in the sun and sip cocktails.”

“You also said you were getting bored yesterday,” you reminded her, poking her side until she swatted your hand away.

“Fine. Gym first, then breakfast?”

You nodded. “And then something fun.”

An hour later, after a light workout and a breakfast filled with fresh fruits, yogurt, and Greek pastries you definitely didn’t earn at the gym, you turned to Alexia with a glint in your eye.

“How about tennis?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Tennis?”

“Yeah. I’ve been wanting to play for ages.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes. “You’ve never said that before.”

You tried to keep your grin innocent. “Didn’t want to intimidate you.”

Her eyes immediately narrowed. “Intimidate me? Why?”

You shrugged, mock casual. “Well, I’m a bit better than you.”

There was a moment of silence as Alexia slowly placed her coffee cup down.

“I’m great at tennis.”

You snorted. “Sure you are.”

“I am! I’ve got footwork, hand-eye coordination—what more do you need?”

“Actual technique?” you teased.

That earned you a playful glare and a challenge in her eyes. “Vamos. Let's go. You’ll see.”

You got the equipment from the resort staff, and from the corner of your eye, you caught Alexia giving the tennis racket a look like she didn’t fully trust it—or maybe like it had insulted her family. You smirked. This was already promising.

You warmed up gently, tapping the ball over the net, letting the rhythm settle in. Alexia wasn’t bad, not at all. She moved well and hit the ball with a decent amount of control. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve believed her confidence.

But you did know better.

When she finally called out, “Okay, now we really play,” you gave her a sweet smile—and then proceeded to utterly, beautifully, effortlessly dominate the game.

To your credit, you didn’t go full force. You even let her win a couple of points just to keep things from becoming a total rout. But watching Alexia scramble across the court, chasing your shots, arms flailing a little more than they should—that was priceless.

You could barely hold in your laughter when she missed a backhand and spun halfway around like a confused ballerina.

She looked nothing like the queen of the pitch now. There, she moved with elegant precision, commanding the field like she was born to rule it. Here? She looked like a newborn deer—adorable, but very confused.

After one particularly vicious drop shot she couldn’t even attempt to reach, Alexia let out a groan of frustration, flung her racket down, and collapsed onto the bench beside the court with all the grace of someone dramatically offended by gravity.

You walked over slowly, wiping sweat from your brow, still catching your breath from laughter.

“You okay there, Serena?”

She turned to you with a glare, cheeks flushed from exertion and ego-bruising. “No. I’m not talking to you. That was unfair. You’re literally Steffi Graf. Or Serena Williams. Or both.”

You chuckled and plopped down beside her, brushing some hair away from her damp forehead. “I’m average. Maybe slightly above.”

“Average?!” she scoffed, looking betrayed. “You destroyed me! I was seconds away from begging you to go easy on me.”

That made you burst into laughter, the sound echoing around the empty court. Alexia’s scowl twitched, lips betraying her with a proud smile.

“I made you laugh. So maybe I didn’t lose everything,” she said smugly, nudging your knee with hers.

“No more tennis today?”

She looked offended you’d even ask. “Absolutely not.”

You leaned your head against her shoulder. “I had fun.”

“You’re evil,” she muttered, but her hand found yours, fingers intertwining.

The rest of the day was spent far from the court. A slow walk through whitewashed streets, lunch at a seaside taverna, and swimming in turquoise waters. Alexia had declared a tennis embargo, but not before announcing, very seriously, that she would hire a coach.

“One day,” she told you as you watched the sun dip below the horizon, “I’ll beat you.”

You kissed her temple. “Of course you will.”

You both knew it was a lie. But you’d let her dream.

The same way you did every time she held a football and looked like she was born with it at her feet. You were both champions—just in very different arenas.

And as far as you were concerned, this vacation? It was the real trophy.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #woso community #woso #woso fics #woso fanfics #woso x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas

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maki-png · 2 days ago

Note

Heyyy I’m not sure if you’re taking requests atm but I’ve been going crazy over Maki taking readers virginity! I think he would be so gentle at first but would kind of get caught up half way through. He would for sure have a size/bulge kink.

I would be soooo happy if you could write something like that! I love your work and your writing style!!🫶🏻❤️

OMG don’t do this to me i do not play about first time & about size kinks

also i'm soo sorry this took so long life got in the way of the *actually* important stuff (maki) but i hope you enjoy!

also first maki content let's go he's literally my bias guys why am i just now posting for him TT

first time w maki

⋆˙⟡ warnings/content: fem bodied reader, virgin!reader, unprotected sex (not advised), making out, ass grabbing, fingering, maki has a big dick, pet names (baby, princess), size/bulge kink, cumming inside, praise, aftercare

-you and maki have been dating for a few months now but haven't gone beyond kissing and some heavy petting and occasional fingering

-one night your makeout session turns particularly heated, maki's large hands kneading your ass and creeping closer and closer to the hem of your skirt. you whimper at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin and quickly help him get your skirt off, then your top, leaving you in just your bra and panties

-so far you're totally fine with it since you've gotten down to your undergarments in front of him before

-suddenly you're tugging his shirt up so you can reach the zipper of his jeans

-he grabs your hand and stops you. "are you ready to go there?"

-you bite your lip and nod, a bit nervous but mostly excited especially after maki takes the edge of his shirt between his teeth and guides your hand back to his zipper

-you get a bit intimidated when you pull his jeans down and lay your eyes on the growing bulge in his boxers, because to be frank he's massive. this is the first dick you'd actually seen in real life but you're well aware that maki is definitely above average

-maki notices you hesitating and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. "are you sure baby?"

-"yeah, maki, i want you. i need you. please." you can feel your heartbeat in your throat knowing what's about to happen

-he talks a lot: "it's cold in here, is it cold in here for you?" "maybe i should turn the fan off." "do you need the blankets? pillows?" clearing his throat and shit and it's almost like he's nervous too because he's never been someone's first time before, he just wants it to be perfect for you

-"i've still gotta prep you but once i'm done, uh, do you want me to use a condom?" he asks you, rubbing your thighs. he almost moans when you shake your head, saying, "i got on the pill a little while ago cause.. well.." you look at him. "i want to feel you, maki" he swears he almost cums right then and there

-maki would be so sweet at first, prepping you so well and getting you wetter than you'd ever gotten just from his fingers, stretching you as much as he can so you're ready to take his length

-talks you through it: "ok i'm gonna put it in now babe, mkay? let me know if it hurts"

-he'd be so careful pushing his tip into you for the first time, checking basically every second to see if you're in pain or uncomfortable and only continuing after you'd whined "yes, i'm fine," for the nth time

-at first the invasion feels odd, you knit your brows and are wondering for a second why people enjoy this, but then maki shifts and it's like your body absorbs him, the two of you fitting together so perfectly that you never want him to leave

-feeling your warmth around him for the first time, he sighs and even moans a little. "been thinking about this for months, baby, you feel even better than i imagined, fuck"

-when he pushes in a bit more you gasp. "maki you're too big i don't know if i can--" you whine and clench almost involuntarily around him as your body takes what it's been craving for the past few months "i don't know if i can take you. i'm kinda scared, maki"

-"you're okay, baby, you're okay. i won't go too fast, i'll let you get situated and then tell me when it feels right, mkay? you can even tell me to stop if you need me to."

-you nod and by this point you're so needy for him you figure you're just going to have to trust him to do his thing

-"you're doing so well though baby, look at you, your body's sucking me in like you were made for this." he rubs your thighs and then arms softly and gives your forehead a peck

-but then maki would get a bit too caught up in it, bucking his hips and accidentally bottoming out inside you way too quickly and moaning at the same time you whimper

-he thrusts hard and fast after that, snapping his hips up and into you so much your body shakes and you bump your head lightly against the bed's headboard, gripping his arms for stability

-constantly muttering to himself about how good you feel, how much he needed this, how much he wants to take care of you, completely in a daze

-at one point maki looks down and his eyes widen, and you follow his gaze to see a very slight bump in your lower stomach

-"fuck is that me?" he groans and gently presses a hand onto your stomach making you both moan. "...i'm huge, i can actually see myself inside you, princess"

-"maki, mhm, this is even better than your fingers," you find yourself arching your back and shoving your hips towards him in an effort to be as close to him as you can as he reaches the deepest parts of you and grazes your sweet spot making you whine loudly

-"yeah? you feel so good baby can't believe it's your first time, you're taking me so well," he breathes. "m gonna cum soon."

-"then cum inside me," you whisper, making him stop in his tracks. "you sure?" but you can feel his hips grinding into you at a sloppier pace. you nod and reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers

-maki cums like that, holding your hand and the sensation of his hot load filling your walls is a bit weird -- but it's a good weird, and once he lets go of your hand and thumbs circles into your clit you find yourself joining him only a few moments later

-he'd be so sweet with the aftercare as well, cleaning you off with a damp, warm cloth and letting you rest for a few minutes before helping you to the shower and getting changed into one of his oversized shirts afterwards

-you're lying on the bed stripped of its sheet, and he nuzzles his face into your hair and kisses your cheek, your ear, muttering, "i'm so glad it was me," kissing and licking your lips and wrapping his warm arms around you

#&team #andteam #&team fanfic #&team scenarios #&team smut #&team headcanons #&team hard thoughts #&team maki #&team maki x reader #&team x reader #&team imagines #kpop #jpop

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gallifreyan85 · 1 day ago

Text

Something to Upset the Stars Again

pairing: familiar!reader x mentor!agatha

summary: it's the middle of the night and you're still crying. your new witch comes to talk with you, and somehow you find that it's easier to forget your wariness and doubts when agatha harkness is set on comforting you, even begrudgingly.

warnings: agatha using her magic on someone (think wanda-in-the-basement-style)

A/n: can be read as standalone, this is part 3 of the familiar!reader au that i will definitely think of a name for. more notes below. enjoy!!

P.S. as i was editing this we reached 200 followers. can I just say thank you so much, I never imagined this happening when I started posting stuff on here, like ever. this is such a lovely surprise and i love you all, thank you so, so, so much.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

“Three days—”

Your eyes were screwed shut, hands over your head, breathing muffled into the pillow. All you could feel was panic, shooting through you, your own heartbeat loud in your ears like a pounding headache. Thud. Your heart in your ears.

Thud.

Or was it footsteps?

Thud.

A slam of a door.

Thud.

You couldn’t see anything. The world was black. There was nothing around you. Breathing was hard. Your breaths were shallow. Inhale. Exhale. There wasn’t enough-- it was too loud- too quiet- too silent- so noisy--

Bang.

You jolted upright, eyes puffy, your head feeling heavy with emotion. Your vision was blurry. You knew where you were, but the realization of what was happening was slowly starting to flow back into your bloodstream, drop by traitorous drop.

“Three days, and you’re still leaking—” an annoyed witch outline of Agatha was at your doorway, dark nightclothes, loose dark hair spilling down her shoulders, a floral robe half undone.

“Do you plan to keep crying every night or should I actually give you something to cry about?”

You registered the words with a familiar-- the irony--jolt, and managed to pull yourself upright. Quickly shook your head. Hoped it’s not too late. Hoped you hadn’t screwed it up already.

“N-no, I’m sorry-” you made out softly, “I’m sorry I’ll keep quiet. I’ll be quiet-”

Agatha sighed. Even through your blurry vision you could see the resignation in her posture. She shook her head.

“Pet…” she spoke, slightly softer, “That wasn’t—” she paused. And your thoughts paused, too. When was the last time someone had apologized to you? Anyone? Was there--

“I didn’t mean it like that.” she sighed again, stepping closer.

You tried to suppress your slight flinch but it didn’t escape her notice. You felt guilty now, so much more than minutes ago. You shouldn’t be scared of her, since she gave you no reason to be. She didn’t hurt you, didn’t hit you, never ever said a rude word to you at all in the four days you’ve been with her. And still you couldn’t seem to shake off your nerves. This whole thing felt like a trap. Your safety felt misguided, a rouse for your gullible mind, and every day without incident felt like a day closer to getting burned.

Agatha shifted beside you, and with a wary raise of your head you could now see she’d sat on the edge of the bed. Her pyjamas were something soft. A silk, maybe, or satin. Dark and comfortable looking.

“You—” she pointed a finger in your direction, crossing one leg over another, “I’m annoyed with you, you little miserable—ugh.”

But there was no annoyance in her tone. You didn’t know her well but you knew her well enough to know that this wasn’t real anger.

You slowly raised your head.

“There you are.” she grumbled, “Will you care to tell me why I had to listen to you sniffling into your pillow for the past three nights like some sad— child.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No—” she frowned, “No more apologies and give me an actual reason. What is so wrong that it requires you be like that for days on end? All weepy and-”

You hesitated.

“I don’t know.”

“I'll need a better answer than that, pet, and I’m not gonna go back to my room just to listen to you cry all night. Start talking.”

“It’s just… I’ve never… it’s been a while since I was...someplace new.”

It was an awkward truth. Definitely not your core reason for your crying, but one of, sure.

Agatha tilted her head, studying the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the bedspread.

“You’re homesick? I didn’t think you’d miss that old hag of a witch, you always seem to smile when I insult her.”

Your lips twitched, even now. You shook your head.

“I don’t miss her.”

“Are you uncomfortable here?”

“No.”

“Are you scared?”

A pause longer than it should’ve been. Agatha’s tone left room for curiosity.

“What are you scared of, pet?”

“I don’t know.” you murmured.

A sigh.

“This room alone has about a dozen protective wards, that’s two less than mine but still. There’s runes on your doorframe, there’s even one on the bed, somewhere-” she reached out a hand, feeling along the headboard until her fingers found an etch in the wood. You hadn’t noticed that.

“And if all that isn’t enough, you’re forgetting who you’re with. I’m the most powerful witch around, pet. Nothing’s getting through me.”

You paused. Hesitated again. “I’m not scared like that.”

Agatha’s lips pressed together but she kept her tone calm. “Then how?”

“Like…” you glanced down. “Like… trapped.”

A beat. Agatha was studying you with a rather intense look of intrigue. “You feel trapped? More so than back in that shop?” there was a hint of disbelief in her tone now, almost indignation, “Were you happier with your nose pressed to the window like some overexpensive prize?”

You flinched again. Regretted it. Shook your head quietly. “No.”

Agatha sighed once more. She sounded tired.

“I know there’s more to it, but I don’t have the time or the energy for this right now. I want to sleep. So why don’t you tell me what you want so I can make it better and we both get our way.”

You shook your head slightly.

You didn’t know what to say. What to want. What to ask for.

“I just keep thinking about it.” you said finally, so quiet, your hands in your lap, “Everything. And- and I know it’s better here, I like it better, and y-you, it’s just-- I didn’t think about it before, and now that I’m here every time I close my eyes I just think about how not nice it was back t-there-”

Agatha groaned. Eyes up at the ceiling like she was cursing the gods and the universe alike.

“This is just what I needed. A terrified familiar with trauma issues. My new life is a joyride.”

She cursed, sighed, got up then turned around, and fixed her hair.

“This never happened, you hear me?” And she sat back down on your bed, maouvering over until she was comfortably sitting beside you, back against the headboard.

“I’m going to regret this.” she said, resigned. Then she moved her arm and gestured for you to scoot closer. “Come here, you little disaster.” she exhaled.

You didn’t move.

You could not move.

Was this really happening?

She gave you a look when it became apparent you had no idea what to do and gently tugged you closer until you were sitting by her side. Your shoulder was touching her arm. She was so warm, soft, comforting like a--

“You’re okay.” she murmured.

You felt the tears start anew. Tried to choke them back down. But Agatha tilted your head up. You startled at the touch, then helplessly melted into it.

Her fingers lightly stroked your hair.

“Look at you,” she said softly, quieter, “you’d think no one ever tried to hold you before. What did you do when you were scared, hm? Just cried yourself to sleep like this?”

You nodded, not meeting her eyes. A soft tsk escaped her. She gently shook her head.

“You poor, sweet thing. No one to comfort you or offer sympathy. Such a sad little tale your life has been, huh?”

You didn’t know whether her words were of real meaning or supposed to be mocking, but you found you didn’t care. You felt your head droop, let it sink against her collarbone, just beneath her chin. Never in your life you’d felt so warm, so safe, so loved, cared for. It was a heaven of emotions, each one stronger than the last. You never wanted to leave. No words formed in your mouth.

“Still feel trapped, pet?” she asked lightly.

You shook your head a little.

“Good.” she murmured. “That’s good. You know, I’m not very good at this part. But I’m very good at pretending.”

Your heart nearly stuttered. This was pretending?

This?

If this was her pretending you couldn’t imagine how really being a target of her genuine affection would feel. But then again maybe you were just so unused to any kind of kindness at all that the merest whiff of care made you fold without a fight.

And you found that now, in this dark little room of yours in the middle of the night, you didn’t care if it was pretence or not. You just wanted her to stay. Your witch.

Agatha spoke up quietly, her head above your own, sounding soft and somehow uninterested.

“You aren’t some prisoner here, pet. This is your home now. It’ll take some getting used to.”

You tried to nod.

She huffed faintly, shaking her head. “You look like a sad puppy under that blanket. Don’t tell me she never gave you one, did she?”

“She did…” you finally found your voice again, a little wobbly from the tears. You didn’t dare much move your head in fear that she’d move away or let go. “It wasn’t as nice as this one, though.”

Agatha scoffed. “You bet it wasn’t, this is eighteenth century silk. Preserved with magic and dignity.”

You stayed quiet for a moment. Then, softly, managed to utter, “Thank you.”

Agatha wrinkled her nose. “You’re welcome. You little storm cloud. Who would’ve thought a little familiar like you had so many tears in them. If you kept crying for longer I think I’d have actually hexed someone.”

You glanced up a little.

“You better owe me some big magic later.” she said, fingers continuing to stroke your hair, “And that was a joke, before that precious little head of yours starts worrying.”

You felt your shoulders relax, the tension and panic from earlier melting away into a sleepy sort of exhaustion.

“Try to sleep.” she said, flatly. “If this keeps you quiet fine, but don’t expect it every night.”

That made a twinge of longing spark inside of you. You closed your eyes tight, swearing to soak up the most of it while you still could. Her arms were still warm around you.

You swiftly fell asleep.

And the morning, you woke up alone.

Not a single sign of Agatha, and a soft sort of quiet you came to associate with waking up in your new room. You could hear birds outside, faint cars passing. You pushed yourself out of bed.

During breakfast, Agatha made no effort whatsoever of bringing up what happened, and you didn’t say anything either. You’d almost started to convince yourself it had all been a good dream of some sort but you knew that wasn’t the case. None of your good dreams left you with the memory of such comfort and warmth. It was only after breakfast that you found yourself a new reason to worry.

You were in the living room, the clock above the mantle chiming noon, sunlight filtering through closed blinds and the bunny- Senor Scratchy you’d come to know his name- was hopping along the hallway.

You were sitting on the couch, hands folded in your lap.

Agatha was sitting across from you, blue eyes set on your face, her expression just short of scrutinizing intent.

“So magic.” she said, her gaze not leaving your own, “Give me your best shot.”

You stared at her.

She tilted her head after a moment.

You shifted in your seat, sheepish.

“Pet?”

“Yes?”

“Please tell me you at least know how to do magic.”

The look you gave in response was enough to make her swear. You winced, apologetic.

She shook her head.

“Fine. We’re starting from the basics. Try summoning some flair.”

You blinked. “F-flair?”

“Yes, flair. You know, some sparks, flickering lights, the whole pizzazz.” she tossed back her hair.

You didn’t move.

Agatha swore again. “Okay. That’s okay. You’re just-” she waved a hand about, “It’s fine. This is totally fine. Gods help me.” she got up from the sofa and joined you on the couch, taking a seat beside you this time.

“Let me see your hands, darling.”

You tentatively offered both your hands towards her. She took them in her own, her grip firm but not harsh. You tried to stay calm.

“I want you to close your eyes.” she said, “And concentrate.”

Slowly, you did. You let your eyes fall closed and thought about magic. Nothing happened.

“Good. That’s good, darling, keep your eyes closed.” she said, a tinge of something unreadable in her tone. You felt one of her hands leave yours and made a small move towards it, but her other quickly found both of yours, drawing them tight into her grip as if to soothe your fears.

“Just keep thinking, you’re doing well.” she said, “Keep thinking about what you can do. The power inside of you, tap into it…”

You were thinking, concentrating, trying your best to listen and please her when a sharp, hot flash of violet zoomed through the black behind your eyes.

You startled, but Agatha quickly rubbed her hand over yours, fingers gently stroking over your knuckles.

“It’s okay, dear.” she said, “Just a bit of help. You’re okay. Keep thinking.” her hand never left your own, “Can you do that for me?”

Slightly nervous but trusting her, you nodded. You focused on what she had said, tried to tap into whatever power she claimed was inside of you, but nothing happened.

Another flash of purple exploded behind your closed eyelids and you screwed your eyes more tightly shut. Your heartbeat was louder in your ears again. One beat. Two. Three. You took a breath- Exhaled- then another-

“Open your eyes.”

You blinked. Bright sunlight made your squint and nearly shut them again, but you kept blinking until your vision cleared. You felt tired, somehow, like your muscles were finally free to relax after being made to hold on tight.

Agatha was still sitting in front of you, one hand letting go of yours, the other coming down from your temple. You took an unsteady breath. She was watching you carefully, eyes narrowed.

You made yourself look up, almost ashamed. “I tried.” you said quietly, “I really did-”

Agatha shushed you. “I know, hun. I felt that, I know. It’s not your fault. You’re very capable of magic for a familiar. Trust me, you are.”

“But...how do you know that if I didn’t even-”

“I know it darling. Don’t you worry about that.”

She got up, and started putting on her boots.

You stared at her.

“Where…”

“We’re going for a little walk.” she said, voice perfectly polite and cheery. “You’re up for that, aren’t you, pet? Around the block, maybe over to a few witchy shops, something important we need to pick up…” she winked at you.

You shifted slowly, standing up as well. “Okay…”

Agatha smiled, bright and eager, yet there was something simmering behind her eyes that made you feel a little uneasy. You put on your shoes. Slid on your jacket. You watched as she slipped on her coat. The cold outside air hit your face and you realized that you spent three days inside the house, with the small exception of Agatha showing you the back garden. You followed her down the street, feeling unshakably guilty. Was she really not disappointed that you couldn’t summon magic?

But you did only try for about two minutes, and that seemed like a short time, at least to you. You tried to stay quiet, to refrain from asking questions and be good but you couldn’t help the skid in your steps when you recognized a familiar street up ahead.

You stopped walking. Drew back a step. Agatha turned around.

“I don’t—” you looked up at her uncertainly, “Why are we going back there? Are you- are you taking me back-please don’t make me go back, I’ll be-”

Agatha sighed softly, stepping towards you but you drew back, nerves racing up and down your arms, your legs, inside your head.

“No one is taking you back, pet, I promise. We just have to...” she mused for a moment, “I have to get something important from there that I didn’t know about before.”

You had no idea what she was talking about.

You brain was telling you this was a trap. She’d seen you don’t have any magic, she was going to make you go back—

Agatha crouched in front of you, head eyes meeting your own.

“Listen to me, darling. I’m not taking you back. You don’t even have to go inside, alright? Hm? You can stay out here and wait for me, how does that sound?”

Her blue eyes skimmed over your face, hopeful and questioning. Her words sounded like an offer, but you felt like someone was dangling your dreams in front of your face, only to get you to step ahead and fall into the abyss.

Still, this was your witch now.

You had to trust her. You wanted to trust her.

You nodded.

Quiet, wary, but nodding slowly, you allowed her to take hold of your hand. She squeezed tight and met your eyes.

“You stay right here, pet. Don’t run off, don’t talk to anyone. Just wait a few minutes. I won’t be long.”

She straightened up and let go of your hand.

You clutched the sleeve of her coat.

“But- she said we’re not welcome. That we shouldn’t come back-”

“I know.” something glinted in the blue of her eyes, mischeif. “Don’t you worry about me, pet. We’ll be on our merry way home in no time. Safe as kittens, okay?”

And she left you standing there, alone.

You watched as she went inside. Climbed the few steps and pushed open the door. A few customers walked out, then there was silence. You glanced around the street, feeling nervous and jittery. You hated being back here but your curiosity eventually got the better of you, and after a while of nervous silence you slowly edged closer, over to the shop window.

It was so odd being out here, watching from this side of the glass after all those years of spying on the outside world from your little bubble of hopes and dreams and dreariness. You cast another quick glance around the street-- it was mostly empty, and no one was paying you any attention-- before pressing your hands against the glass and peering inside.

There were some boxes in the corner, but the position gave you a perfect view of the counter.

Agatha was inside, you could see her wandering the aisles, one then another, and then-

There she was.

Your former witch.

And now talking to your current one. What an odd situation your life had become.

She turned halfway, busy stacking shelves when she noticed Agatha, and her eyes widened, then quickly set in fury.

“You—”

You were surprised to find that you could hear them both quite well through the glass. A bit muffled, but well enough to understand every word.

Your former witch had turned around, a finger pointed into Agatha’s direction with a glare, some insult surely on the tip of her tongue, but this time she didn’t even get to start her sentence.

Agatha flicked her wrist.

Your former witch slammed head-first into the register.

You flinched at the impact instinctively, even though a part of you felt like she more than had that coming. All those years of pulling your hair, yelling for every little mistake, seeing her in pain didn't fill you with joy, but you couldn't deny there was a small hint of satisfaction.

“What are you-- what is—” she tried to gasp out, but Agatha had raised her other hand, and in a simple twist of two fingers a string of purple bonds twined around the woman’s wrists, pinning her in place. For the first time in your life, you thought she looked miserable. Her eyes- always so piercing and violent, were wide open, set on Agatha, and she opened her mouth to wheeze out a weak, shaky, “What do you want?”

Agatha slammed her hand on the counter.

“Where is it?”

The woman tried to look away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you insane, deranged-”

“Oh, don't bother.” Agatha snapped. “You really thought I wouldn’t notice? That you could get away with not giving me the one thing that makes her who she is?”

The woman looked up, eyes set in frustration, but you could see her composure was starting to crack, “I don’t know what you’re—”

Agatha flicked her wrist again.

One of the books from behind the counter feel straight on the woman’s head. She winced, but Agatha didn’t bat an eye.

“I could do much worse to you and trust me, I would gladly, but I need you coherent enough to break this thing. Now, I'll ask again. Where is it?"

The woman nodded in defeat. “Fine.” she spat out. “Third shelf on the left.”

You followed Agatha as she picked up a leather-bound book from said place and flipped through it. About halfway through, a sheet of paper fell out. She picked it up, unfolded it gently, and set it on the counter in front of the woman, who was now trying to-- rather fruitlessly-- break the bindings on her hands.

Agatha shot her a look, indicating the paper. “Now.” she said. “Do it now, or I swear you'll be collecting pieces of yourself off the floor when I'm gone." she paused. "If you're lucky.”

The woman nodded.

Agatha made a swirling motion with her hand, the purple bindings around the woman’s hands disappearing into thin air. She flexed her hands once, then weakly raised one over the paper, and a soft glow of magic met your eyes.

The paper flickered, and turned into a pile of ash.

You watched, stunned and confused, as Agatha straightened again, her hand swiping over the substance, as if to check if it really was destroyed.

She said something else but your ears didn’t register it. There was an odd, flowing feeling in your hands. You glanced down at them and frowned when they looked just the same, but you could definitely feel it now. A slow but everlasting flow of something, first in your fingertips, then up your arms, all the way into your head. You shook it once, blinking, and tried to clear your vision. There were spots in front of your eyes. You blinked again. Took a breath.

Breathing came more easily this time. It was like someone had cleaned the air for you. Every breath sent a lungful of fresh oxygen flowing to your brain, making you feel- for lack of a better word, powered up.

Agatha stepped out a moment later, the bell above the door jingling softly behind her, boots scuffing the sidewalk as she frowned upon not seeing you, then went over when she spotted you standing there.

“Everything alright there, hun?” she asked, her voice perfectly pleasant again, though there was a hint of something new in there too. Concern, maybe? Worry?

Or was that hope?

You looked up at her, uncertain, “I-I think—”

She smiled.

“Yes?”

“I think something happened, I feel—”

Her features softened into a small grin.

“Different?” she offered, reaching for you hand.

You realized after a while that she wasn’t intending to hold it, but was instead turning it over in her own, studying your palm. She must’ve seen something you didn’t because she soon let it go, and met your eyes with a satisfied smirk.

She nudged you gently into an effort to start walking. You did, still slightly dazed. It was weird, like a feeling of a good night’s sleep coming all at once to your brain, making you feel more rested, more yourself.

Agatha kept her pace to match yours.

“How’s it going with that book you picked up earlier, hm? Runes and whatnot.”

Was she not going to explain what just happened?

You glanced up at her, not following. “I...read a few chapters.”

“A few chapters, hmm? They any good?”

“Yes," she was still smiling. You glanced at your hands again, but saw nothing different.

“Did you get to the part about binding runes, pet?”

You had. They were interesting to read about, but maybe that was just you, having been forced away from any kind of magical knowledge about witches.

“I did...” you replied, but your steps faltered slightly even as you made the words out.

You stopped walking. Looked up at her. "Agatha?"

"Yes?"

“Was that—did you just--”

“Little spy, aren’t you?” she said casually, fixing a piece of lint on your jacket, “Being sneaky and watching what I was doing in there.”

She hummed.

You didn’t say anything.

“Yes, my dearest, that was a binding rune you just saw her break.”

You looked up at her. “I thought you said we were going to get something important. But she didn’t give you anything.”

Agatha sighed, soft and sweet, almost wistful, and slung an arm around your shoulders.

“Oh, sweetheart." she said, voice soft and melodious with unspoken pride, and you felt something deep inside of you twist with longing and hope. "We got the most important thing there is. Or should I say, you did.”

“Me?” you looked up, your voice shaky and quiet.

But you already knew the answer.

“Yes, darling.” she said lightly. “You. You just got your magic back.”

A/n: part three done. idk when i'm going to write pt4 but it probably won't be long. title is from forsaken by Paris Paloma. Poor reader is having a hard time coming to terms with a 'normal life.' whatever normal is left when you're living with agatha harkness. i was thinking (not a guarantee, though) about maybe doing something for October, like a fic a day, or a drabble or something, so if anyone has any ideas of what that could be lmk. i know people do promptoper, kinktober, spookstober you name it, this would def be sfw and for the characters I write for, but we'll see. just a thought. and guys. guys. yall. we just got to 200 followers. 🩷💜🖤🥳 i can't believe there's 200 people reading this stuff and being interested and yall are just so wonderful. all of you. i love you. i hope you enjoyed this one, and hope you have a wonderful day!! <3

Taglist 💜 @milflovers4 @senhorita-girassol @dandelions4us @kaymariesworld @ahintofchaos @atlasimagines @eyalovesherbed @bethany-zor-el-danvers @modernsapphicism @wifeofmanymilfs @pianogirl2121 @el-anit @deathbylesbianwitches @agathasgirlfriend @poisson-99 @sacredprayer13 @lgbthemyscira @three3ofswords @whitelotus00 @genderenvyeveryone @eatingouturmomrn

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #marvel #agatha harkness x reader #mine #agnes of westview #marvel cinematic universe #mentor agatha harkness #familiar reader x agatha harkness #familiar reader

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ms-demeanor · 23 hours ago

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TEN YEARS. YOU THINK CARS START TO FALL APART AT TEN YEARS?

TEN YEARS?

For the average driver, that's like, between 100-150k miles on an engine, that's at best half to three quarters the lifespan you should expect on one engine.

There are regular maintenance recommendations for every type of car. You do the fuel filter at 100k and the water filter at 150k and the oil every (whatever your manufacturer recommends) and the tires when the wear hits a certain point.

One of the bigger risks with buying a used car is that you don't know the maintenance history, so you don't know if these things were done or if it was well maintained, which is why it's important to ask about that as part of the purchase of a used car (something I did, that the seller lied about, that is going into the lawsuit). However, if you do have a car where you keep up with the maintenance, you should - generally, barring the occasional freak thing or damage done by peculiarities of your area - be able to predict what your maintenance costs will be as the car ages.

It shouldn't be a surprise to you that you needed to do your fan belt just a few weeks after you had to get the brakes done which was just a few weeks after you had to replace the thermostat which was just a few weeks after you did a transmission fluid flush - you should be doing that stuff on a regular schedule or at a specific mileage and you should be *planning for those expenses* because when you replace your thermostat at the correct part of the maintenance cycle it means you aren't going to throw a rod when your engine overheats which you didn't realize because the thermostat hadn't been replaced. "A stitch in time saves nine" but it's "maintenance on the dot saves you a lot" or some shit.

I know that people don't know much about cars but you can't just be out there waiting for shit to break.

Anyway. I'm 39. At this point I'd say that pre 2010 is solidly in "senior" territory for cars the way that a 9 year old dog is a senior dog. Not a puppy anymore, you have to be cautious about diet and exercise, but still with a lot of good life left to live. Pre 2005 is DEFINITELY in old territory. That's a 20 year old car, that's getting close to its lifespan. On the flip side, I think that anything built after 2015 is new, or should be treated as new. Post-2015 cars are so new that I don't even want them there are too many computers in that shit.

The most reliable car that I currently drive is a 2009 GMC Sierra. The second most reliable car is a 2001 Saturn wagon. I have never owned a new car (and this subaru is not the oldest car I've bought, though my Jeep was intentionally purchased as a project car whereas this was an accidental project car). The last car that I owned was a 2010 Toyota Yaris with 168k miles on it and literally genuinely no mechanical problems; I bought it in 2020 - when it was ten years old - with 120k miles on it.

I bought that car for six thousand dollars and it cost between 200-400 a year on maintenance (getting the brakes done in 2025, replacing the battery in 2020, oil changes about three times a year etc), so a max of $2k in maintenance over the 5 years I had the car, bringing the total up to $8k, which is certainly not twenty five to thirty thousand dollars or eight hundred dollars a month. And those maintenance costs are like paying for gas. That's part of owning a car. Because you still have to pay for maintenance on a new car. You're still going to wear down tires and brakes on your new car. You're still going to have to have oil changes and fluid flushes done on your new car.

New car ownership has actually gotten CRAZY expensive in the last ten years, and genuinely the build quality seems to have fallen off a cliff. (Look up information on right to repair; car manufacturers are a fucking nightmare and new cars are fucking awful in terms of what you can do to keep your car functional; I *will* agree that there's a degree of planned obsolescence in cars, however I'd argue that it's MUCH more prevalent in newer cars, and that older cars actually WERE built to last)

If your brakes, water pump, transmission, some sensor, and a serious oil leak all need to be handled within six months of each other, what this tells me is that you're not following recommended maintenance schedules. If you have to have your mechanic tell you about a serious oil leak during an oil change, that tells me you're driving a car with a serious oil leak and not recognizing the symptoms (and, since you're doing those oil changes on a regular 3 month schedule - which you probably shouldn't be, you should probably be going based on mileage, which in modern cars is 5k-7k more often than the 3 months 3k miles jiffy lube used to harp on - that oil leak sprang up in the last three months WAIT ARE YOU CHECKING YOUR OIL).

ARE YOU ALL CHECKING YOUR OIL? YOU'RE ALL CHECKING YOUR OIL REGULARLY, RIGHT? YOU KNOW YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO CHECK THE LEVEL WHILE THE ENGINE IS WARM AT A MINIMUM ONCE A MONTH AND NO THE OIL LIFE SENSOR IS NOT ENOUGH THAT'S WHY IT'S INSANE TO ME THAT SOME NEW CARS DON'T COME WITH DIPSTICKS YOU GUYS ARE CHECKING THE OIL SO YOU NOTICE IF THERE'S A SUDDEN DROP AND ARE AWARE OF LEAKS, RIGHT? YOU'RE NOT JUST RAWDOGGING WHATEVER THE OIL AND LUBE PLACE PLONKED IN YOUR ENGINE UNTIL THE NUMBER ON THE STICKER POPS UP, RIGHT?

Also nobody in the world is buying a thousand dollar car and putting $1500 into the transmission (or paying eighty bucks for an oil change). A transmission problem in a thousand dollar car is your signal to buy a different car OR to buy a transmission for four hundred bucks and put it in yourself. I think you may be underestimating exactly how shitty a thousand dollar car is in 2025.

This is a thousand dollar car:

(bud, you don't get to list a car without a functional engine as in 'fair' condition what are you doing?)

This is a thousand dollar car:

(note the transmission problem - that car is worth six hundred dollars for scrap and the owner is seeing if they can get a couple hundred more for it from someone who will take on the burden of repairs themselves or just needs something to run for a couple weeks, but you can't buy a car that's missing "reverse" and think it's going to do anything but fall apart; nobody who is buying a thousand dollar car is going to put two thousand dollars into it unless they are buying a car to restore)

But one way or another, no, a well-maintained ten-year-old car that you buy at $7k (or hell, even $10k) is not going to end up costing you more than a $400-a-month loan on a new car ($14400 for a 3yr term, $24k for a five year term). If you spent a thousand dollars a year on maintenance on a seven year old car you would have seven years of owning that car before you caught up to the $14k car, except that you wouldn't catch up because the $14k car would have its own maintenance costs to catch up on. Plus, again, you would be required to carry full coverage insurance while financing versus having the option to carry liability only for a car you buy outright, which for me is a difference of $150 a month at a minimum, or $5400 for a three year loan or $9k on a five year loan. That's just the difference, not the total cost of the insurance. The difference in cost from carrying liability only versus full coverage on a five year loan is more than I have ever spent on a car.

So, no, buying a used car is not going to cost you more money in the long run than buying a new car, especially if you can pay out of pocket, ESPECIALLY especially if you can do work on it yourself, and assuming you follow the manufacturer recommended maintenance schedule.

Also if you are paying eight hundred dollars for brakes you are either getting fucked by your mechanic or fucked by the fact that you've got a new car with proprietary brakes that can only be replaced at the dealership. Nobody in the world is paying a thousand dollars for a car and then paying eight hundred dollars to get the brakes done.

Fuck, actually, I bought my car for $2500; from the dealership, an engine replacement is $7k, new axles are $3k, a new transmission is $5k, and various and sundry fluid changes and maintenance things are about $2k, which would basically get the thing back to new. So It would actually cost me less to have my 2005 subaru totally rebuilt *BY SUBARU* with a new engine with zero miles on it than it would cost me to pay a $400 loan for five years ($19.5k vs $24k). So even if I went with the most maintenance I could physically have done on my car, done by the most expensive possible place to have it done, it would cost less than the $400-a-month loan AND I wouldn't have to carry $5-9k of extra insurance. Hell, it would cost me less than the three year option and the insurance difference ($19.5k vs $19.8k).

That is, of course, absurd, and not anything that anyone should do, but that's about how insane it sounds to me to agree to a $400 monthly loan (let alone an $800 commitment).

Also, wait, hi, I'm suddenly realizing that this is a really, really easy argument to make with basic math.

If you buy a thousand dollar car and spend two thousand dollars on it in the course of a eight months before replacing the car, you are spending $375 a month on car ownership, including the cost of maintenance. And that is making some VERY expensive assumptions about maintenance (eight hundred dollars for brakes is extortionate).

If you're spending $400 a month on a car loan, you're spending $400 a month *before* the cost of maintenance and the difference in insurance cost, and even if you ignore that $400 is more than $375.

I can't believe I wrote all of this out only to realize that you're saying that $375 a month is more than $400 a month right before I hit the reblog button.

Anyway.

Go check your oil.

Now, hindsight is 20/20 and all that, but I have to say: you would have simply had an easier time if you had just bought a 2026 Subaru Crosstrek with extended warranty

Assuming low tax, a low interest rate, a five year loan term and the smallest amount of car insurance you can get away with while financing a vehicle, a 2026 Crosstrek would cost me $782 a month.

I don't know how to explain that accepting a five year obligation to spend $800 a month on a car would not actually make my life easier.

We could definitely argue that if I'd chosen to finance a $5k 2012 honda fit my life would be easier, but not a $27k subaru.

The idea of having to find eight hundred dollars a month in my budget is giving my hives. This is why I'm perfectly willing to find a cheap piece of shit and put in the effort to make it less of a piece of shit.

Eight hundred dollars a month. Eight HUNDRED dollars a month. That is more than Large Bastard pays for his meds before the deductible is consumed. That is, like, at least twice my grocery budget for the month.

If I made a monthly contribution of $400 into an index fund with a 4% yield I'd end with almost the full cost of the car saved in the same amount of time.

So I could, in theory, pay $300 a month ($150 in payment and $150 in insurance) for a much shittier car with less coverage, get a $9k used car, and put $400 a month into an investment fund and I'd come out in five years with a $9k car and $26k in my pocket for the same price as a 2026 Subaru Crosstrek (plus $4920 of walking around money, because that's the extra $82 over 5 years). If I had $782 a month to spend on these sorts of things.

It is bugfuck insane to me that people buy new cars.

If I had to figure out what I was going to cut out of my life to afford $800 a month first I'd have to start going back to the plasma center and then I'd have a heart attack. That's Tiny Bastard's insurance, her insulin, her diabetic dog food, and all of MY medications for two months.

I think $800 may be literally more than I spend on eating out in a year. ADDING $800 a month to my household income would be life-changing; removing it would be life-destroying.

It is *terrifying* to me that people are so glib about the cost of a new car. Like, not only would that not be easier, it would be crushingly difficult.

Eight hundred dollars.

Am I just poor? Last year I was for sure poor but I've paid down some debt and gotten a raise and feel less poor. Is it normal to have that much money to flex around in your budget and I just don't realize it because I've spent so long with absolutely no disposable income that a spare hundred or two dollars a month and no longer selling blood feels luxurious?

I mean I'm below the median income for California but it's California, I'm above the median for most of the US I don't think I'm poor I think that possibly it's nuts to spend seven hundred and eighty two U S American dollars a month on car ownership.

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