#omg I hear something outside of my window | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago

Note

HEAR ME OUT 🙂 charles x pianist!reader where he’s like writing/composing a new ep and his producer is like “omg you should totally do a duet with (reader) 🥰” and uh yeah just anything related to that

i can already envision a scene where charles spends most of his time in the dark alone in the studio with his piano but reader is ofc there…

go for any trope you want 🙈

MY MUSE | CL16

an: im sorry this is so long istart writing and then i can't stop. btw i want everyone to know that i was listening to that's not me by skepta and jme while writing this. completely different vibes. SEND MORE REQUESTS IM BORED HOUSESITTING FOR THREE WEEKS

wc: 7.8k

dedicated to @iamred-iamyellow & @iimplicitt

The studio was thick with the scent of aged leather and dust, the faint glow of a single, dimmed lamp casting long shadows across the hardwood floors. Charles sat hunched over the grand piano, its black lacquer surface reflecting the soft light in fractured shards. His fingers hovered above the ivory keys, trembling with a kind of frustrated anticipation, but no sound came. The room seemed to echo with a deafening silence, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the far wall—an incessant reminder of time slipping away.

He had been here for days, isolated from the outside world during the off season. The once-comforting walls, lined with shelves of dog-eared books and musical scores, now felt like the confines of a cage. His last piece had been a masterpiece—a soaring composition that had flowed from him like water, effortless and pure. It was the kind of music that haunted you long after it ended, the kind that etched itself into the soul of anyone who heard it. But now, the notes eluded him.

Charles ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair and let out a low sigh. There was a pressure building in his chest, like a wound slowly tightening, pulling him apart. For the past week, he had been locked in this room, trying to capture the essence of something even greater than the last, but all he had managed to conjure was noise—fragments of half-formed melodies that crumbled before they could take shape.

He stood abruptly, the sudden movement causing the papers on top of his piano to rustle, brittle with neglect. The room was stifling; the air was thick with the remnants of burnt-out candles and sleepless nights. He paced to the window, pulling the curtains aside to reveal the darkened Maranello streets below, slick with the remnants of a recent rain. The city outside moved on, indifferent to his struggle, its distant hum a reminder that time had no patience for his creative paralysis.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, his breath fogging it up in shallow bursts. What was missing? What had he lost in the months since his last piece? It felt like chasing shadows, reaching for something just out of grasp. Every melody he tried to shape slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, and the harder he tried to hold onto it, the faster it dissolved.

The clock struck three in the morning, the chime echoing through the stillness of the room. Another night wasted. Another night consumed by the weight of his own expectations. He turned back to the piano, his eyes heavy with fatigue but burning with a quiet, desperate need. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not without something to show for the hours he’d lost.

With a sigh that felt like surrender, Charles sat back down at the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys once more. He could feel the cold beneath his skin, the way the silence seemed to press in around him. His hands shook, not with nervousness, but with exhaustion.

And then, in the quiet, a single note broke the silence.

It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t the haunting, ethereal sound he had been searching for. But it was something.

His gaze fell to the pile of sheet music he had scribbled on throughout the night. Inked lines of failed ideas, crossed out again and again. With a final resigned sigh, he stood up, the bench scraping the floor, the sound too loud in the empty space. He began to gather his things, shoving crumpled papers into his bag alongside notebooks, headphones, and his laptop. The familiar weight of them didn’t bring comfort; instead, they felt like reminders of the failure he was starting to carry with him. This was meant to be a hobby but it was haunting his every move.

As he turned to leave, keys jangling in his hand, a soft sound reached his ears—a distant, faint melody. He paused, his hand hovering over the light switch, ears straining to catch it. It was coming from down the hallway, barely perceptible at first, but unmistakable—a piano, its notes drifting through the quiet night like a whisper.

Charles hesitated for a moment, then slipped into the hallway, drawn toward the sound. He moved slowly, the dark corridor seeming endless, the music growing clearer with every step. It was beautiful—achingly so. Each note was delicate yet certain, as though whoever was playing knew exactly what they wanted to say. The melody swirled and climbed, creating something ethereal, something that made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t felt in weeks.

He stopped outside one of the smaller practice rooms, the door slightly ajar, a soft glow of light spilling from within. The music filled the narrow hallway, surrounding him, pulling him in. He stood there for a long moment, his heart beating a little faster, a strange mix of awe and envy twisting inside him. This was what he had been trying to create—the same kind of raw emotion, the beauty that lingered long after the sound faded.

But it wasn’t his.

Charles leaned against the wall, just out of sight, listening as the music flowed through the cracks in the door. The player inside didn’t falter, didn’t stop to wrestle with the notes. It was effortless, pure. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare interrupt, afraid the spell would be broken if the other person realised they had an audience.

The melody soared, and for a brief moment, Charles closed his eyes, letting himself be swept up in it. It reminded him of why he had started this in the first place—of the nights when music had been his refuge, when it had felt like an escape, not a burden. He could feel the heaviness in his chest easing, just slightly, as the music wound its way through the silence.

But as beautiful as it was, it also stung. Whoever was playing had found what he had been searching for all this time—something he had lost.

The music came to a soft, gentle end, the final notes lingering in the air like a breath held too long. Charles stood there for a moment longer, still leaning against the doorframe, waiting for something—he didn’t know what.

When the quiet finally settled again, he stepped away from the door, not daring to break the fragile stillness with the creak of the floorboards. He glanced back one last time, his fingers curling tight around the strap of his bag. For a moment, he considered knocking, stepping inside to see the person who had played with such grace. But something held him back.

Instead, he turned and walked down the hallway, the echo of that haunting melody still playing in his head long after the door to the studio clicked shut behind him.

His following morning came in fragments—a bleary haze of sunlight filtering through half-closed blinds, the distant hum of traffic muffled by the walls of his apartment. Charles stirred, his body sluggish and heavy with the weight of too little sleep. He lay there for a long moment, eyes closed, trying to hold onto the remnants of the dream he couldn’t quite remember. But it wasn’t a dream that lingered in his mind.

It was the melody.

That same haunting, angelic piano from last night, curling through his thoughts like a whisper. He could still hear it—those delicate notes weaving together, the way the melody had seemed so effortless, so perfect. It had been circling his mind from the moment he left the studio. Now, it played softly in the background of his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

Charles groaned, rolling out of bed and dragging himself into the shower. The hot water did little to shake the fatigue that clung to him, nor did it drown out the persistent tune echoing in his head. His mind kept returning to the small, dimly lit room where the mystery pianist had been, to the way her fingers had danced across the keys as though they had always belonged there.

He towel-dried his hair, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror. Dark circles under his eyes, a face hollowed by days of restless nights and creative frustration. He had some sort of media training today—something important. A meeting he couldn’t afford to drift through half-awake. But even as he dressed, pulling on his usual team shirt and straightening the collar, his thoughts were elsewhere.

The city outside was awake, the streets buzzing with life as he made his way through the crisp morning air to the Ferrari HQ. His coffee sat untouched in his hand, the steam rising in lazy spirals, but he barely noticed. The melody from last night played on an endless loop in his head, the memory of it clinging to him like a ghost he couldn’t shake.

The office was a blur of familiar faces, bright smiles, and too much energy for this early in the day. Charles moved through it all, barely fully acknowledging Carlos, the world around him dull and muffled. The media manager was already waiting when he arrived, tapping impatiently on the table as Charles sat down for their first meeting.

But even as they discussed plans, upcoming shoots, and expectations for both his and Carlos’ media presence, Charles wasn’t fully there. He nodded in the right places, offered half-hearted responses, but his mind kept wandering back to that melody. The notes haunted him, pulling his focus away from everything else, as though they held the answer to something he was desperate to grasp.

“Charles, are you listening?” Carlos’ voice snapped him back to the present.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, though his eyes betrayed him. He scribbled something on the notepad in front of him, though the lines didn’t form words—just scattered shapes, like the music notes he couldn’t get out of his head.

The meetings dragged on. Through every discussion, every pitch and presentation, Charles felt the same distraction pulling him away. He couldn’t let it go. The melody. It had stirred something in him—a frustration, yes, but also a strange kind of inspiration. There was something there, something unfinished, and it gnawed at him.

By the time the last meeting ended, Charles felt hollowed out. He hadn’t contributed anything meaningful to the discussions, not really. His mind had been elsewhere the entire day, replaying those fleeting notes over and over again. It was maddening.

He needed to know. Needed to find out who had played it, and why that music—the music he hadn’t written—felt so much like it belonged to him.

Without thinking, Charles pulled out his phone and dialled his producer’s number, pacing back and forth in the hallway outside the conference room as it rang. It was late afternoon now, the sky outside tinged with fading light. He knew he should be focusing on his own work, or on getting back to the studio, but the compulsion to solve this mystery was stronger than his exhaustion.

The line clicked, and his producer’s voice crackled on the other end. “Charles, hey. What’s up?”

Charles leaned against the window, his forehead pressed to the cool glass. “I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice low, edged with impatience. “Last night, around 3 a.m., there was someone in one of the smaller studios, playing piano. Do you know who it was?”

There was a pause on the other end, the faint sound of papers shuffling. “3 a.m.? You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Charles replied, closing his eyes. The melody drifted back into his mind, as clear as if he were still sitting outside the door, listening. “It was… incredible. I couldn’t stop listening. I need to know who it was.”

Another pause, then a small chuckle from his producer. “Ah, that must’ve been the student. Yeah, she’s been coming in late at night to practise. Studies music at the university downtown. Doesn’t perform much, though—mostly keeps to herself.”

Charles’s heart skipped a beat. The name felt unfamiliar, but it already held a weight to it, like it was connected to something he hadn’t yet fully understood.

“She doesn’t perform?” he asked, brow furrowing. It seemed impossible—someone with that much talent, hiding in the shadows.

“Nah,” his producer continued, “she’s a bit under the radar. Not really into publishing or performing her work, but, man, she’s got something special. I didn’t realise you’d heard her.”

Charles was silent for a moment, processing the information. The melody. He could see it now—something just out of reach, like the missing piece of a puzzle he hadn’t realised he was trying to solve.

“You know,” his producer said, his tone shifting slightly, “you’ve been stuck for a while, Charles. Maybe you should try working with her. See what happens. It might help you find what you’re looking for.”

Charles swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. The thought of it—composing with someone else, with her—made something stir inside him. Could it be the answer to breaking through this creative silence he’d been drowning in?

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered, though the decision was already forming in his mind.

As he hung up the phone, the melody returned, softer this time, but still persistent. And now, it wasn’t just haunting him—it was pulling him forward.

_________________

The studio felt different tonight, as though it had shifted in his absence. The air was cooler, the lights dimmer, casting long, quiet shadows over the floorboards. Charles stood in the hallway again, just as he had the night before, but this time his heart beat with something more than exhaustion or frustration. There was an anticipation simmering in his chest, a tension just beneath the surface.

He hadn’t come to compose tonight. Not really. He had come for the music. Her music.

The name felt strange on his lips, unfamiliar, yet full of significance. He didn’t know her, had never spoken to her, but her music had already gotten under his skin. It haunted him still, drifting through his mind in fragments even after the long day of meetings, pulling him back here.

He moved quietly down the hallway, the same path he had taken last night, his shoes barely making a sound against the worn floor. As he neared the smaller practice room, the faint sound of the piano floated toward him, delicate and clear, weaving through the quiet.

There it was again—the same effortless, angelic melody that had captivated him before. But now, listening to it a second time, Charles felt something deeper stirring. The way she played was different tonight, more intimate somehow, as if the music had softened, becoming something even more personal. He stopped outside the door, just as he had before, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

For a long moment, he simply listened. The notes seemed to dance in the air, spinning and intertwining, building toward something both beautiful and fragile. It was mesmerising.

But then, the music stopped. Abruptly.

Charles’s eyes snapped open, his pulse quickening in the sudden silence. Before he could move, a voice broke through the quiet, soft but teasing.

“Mama always said it’s not nice to lurk.”

His breath caught in his throat. For a second, he didn’t move, caught off guard. The door was still ajar, the light spilling into the hallway, and from inside, he could make out the silhouette of someone sitting at the piano, her back turned to him. She hadn’t looked up, but she knew. She had known he was there the whole time.

Heat crept up his neck, but before he could stammer out an apology, she spoke again.

“You coming in, or are you planning to stay out there all night?”

Her tone was light, amused even, but it was an invitation all the same. Charles hesitated for a heartbeat longer, his hand tightening around the strap of his bag. Then, without thinking, he stepped forward, pushing the door open a little wider.

The room was small and softly lit, just as he remembered, the grand piano dominating the space. She sat at it, her posture relaxed, fingers still resting lightly on the keys. She turned her head slightly as he entered, giving him the faintest glimpse of a smile.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, feeling a bit ridiculous for standing outside like that. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t.” She shifted on the bench, making space beside her. “Come on, sit.”

Charles’s throat tightened, but he nodded and moved toward the piano, his steps feeling oddly tentative. He hesitated for a second when he reached her, unsure if he should really be sitting so close. The bench was narrow, and he could already feel the warmth of her presence.

She looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “I don’t bite.”

With a small chuckle, he slid onto the stool beside her, the space between them barely a few inches. It was strange, this closeness—to sit here with someone he didn’t know, yet felt connected to through the music that had haunted him for days. Their shoulders brushed lightly as he settled in, and for a moment, the silence between them felt heavy, loaded with expectation.

She glanced at him, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. Then, without a word, she placed her hands back on the piano, her fingers moving over the keys with an effortless grace. The melody returned, soft and slow, and Charles felt his breath catch in his chest again. It was different this time—gentler, more deliberate, as though she was playing just for him.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with the quiet intimacy of the music. He watched her hands move, the way her fingers danced across the keys with the kind of fluidity that only came from years of dedication. The melody wound its way through the air, filling the small space between them, and Charles found himself leaning in, just slightly, drawn to the sound and to her.

“You play like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She smiled, a soft, almost secretive smile. “It’s never easy,” she said, her voice low, her eyes still on the piano. “It just looks that way.”

She played a few more notes, then paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “What about you? You’ve been in the studio night after night. What’s haunting you?”

Charles let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. “I’ve been stuck,” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. “It feels like everything I try to create falls apart. Nothing compares to what I’ve done before.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she played another soft chord, the sound hanging in the air between them.

“Music’s strange like that,” she said after a moment, her tone thoughtful. “It comes and goes. Sometimes it’s easy, other times… it slips through your fingers.”

Charles nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He had been trying so hard to force the music out, to create something that could match his last piece, but all it had done was elude him.

The girl beside him shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing his. “Here,” she said, moving her hands off the keys. “Play something.”

“What?”

“Anything,” she replied, her eyes meeting his for the first time fully. There was a challenge in them, but also an understanding. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Charles swallowed, feeling a sudden surge of nerves. But her gaze was steady, encouraging, and without thinking too much about it, he let his hands find their way to the keys. The notes that came out weren’t perfect—they were hesitant, half-formed. But they were honest. He played softly, the melody faltering at times, but it was real.

She listened, her head slightly tilted as she watched his fingers move. Then, without warning, she joined him, her hands moving gracefully beside his, adding harmonies to the melody he had started. The sound shifted, growing fuller, more complete. The music filled the room, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Charles didn’t feel the weight of his failure pressing down on him.

Together, they played, their hands moving across the keys in tandem, creating something new. Something neither of them could have done alone.

When the last note finally faded into the quiet, Charles sat back, his heart pounding. She turned to him, her eyes soft and knowing.

“See?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier when you’re not alone.”

For a moment, they sat in the quiet, the echo of their shared melody lingering in the air like the last breath of a long-forgotten song. Charles stared at the keys, feeling the warmth of the music still buzzing in his fingertips. He hadn’t felt like this in weeks—maybe longer. There was something about the way she played, the way her music had melded so effortlessly with his, that made the creative block he’d been wrestling with seem almost insignificant.

He turned to look at her, realising for the first time how close they were, their shoulders still brushing lightly. Her eyes were fixed on the piano, her fingers resting gently on the keys, as though she was waiting for the next melody to arrive. Her presence, though quiet and composed, carried an intensity that matched the music she played—an unspoken understanding of the way music could consume you, take you apart, and put you back together.

“That was…” Charles began, but the words caught in his throat.

“Different?” she offered, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Yeah.” He let out another breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “It felt… easier. Like it wasn’t something I had to force.”

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze thoughtful. “Music isn’t something you’re supposed to wrestle with. It’s like water—it flows when you stop trying to hold onto it so tightly.” She shifted her hands off the keys and folded them in her lap, her eyes now fully on him. “You’ve been pushing too hard. I could hear it.”

Her words were soft, but they carried something that made Charles pause. He had been pushing—straining against the silence, desperate to capture a piece of the magic he’d once had. Every night in the studio had been a battle, and he hadn’t realised until now that the real fight was with himself.

“You’re right,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying so hard to top what I did last time that I forgot why I was doing it in the first place.”

She leaned back slightly, still watching him, her expression unreadable. “What was your last piece?” she asked, her voice curious but not probing.

Charles hesitated. The memory of his last composition—an orchestral piece that had been his most successful work to date—felt distant now, like it belonged to someone else. It had been raw, emotional, inspired by something deeply personal, but the success that followed had overshadowed the joy he’d felt when he created it. Ever since then, he’d been chasing that same feeling, trying to recreate the magic, only to fall short.

“It was…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “Something personal. It came easily back then. But now it feels like I’m trying to catch lightning in a bottle, and I’m just… stuck.”

She nodded, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the piano’s surface. “I get that. Sometimes the more you want something, the harder it is to find. That’s why I don’t perform much.” She smiled faintly, almost to herself. “There’s less pressure when no one’s watching.”

Charles studied her for a moment, sensing the layers beneath her calm demeanour. She spoke with such ease about the creative process, but there was an edge of vulnerability there too, a reluctance to expose too much of herself to the world.

“Why don’t you perform?” he asked, curious now. “I mean, with the way you play, you could easily—”

“Because I don’t need to,” she interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. “The music is for me. It’s not about the audience. It’s about…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s about connecting with something deeper, something that doesn’t care about applause or recognition.”

Her words hung in the air between them, and Charles found himself nodding slowly, understanding exactly what she meant. In a way, she had found a kind of freedom he had lost along the way.

“That’s why you play at night,” he said, more a statement than a question. “When no one’s around. It’s like…” He trailed off, trying to find the right analogy, “…the world doesn’t exist.”

She smiled at that, a real one this time, her eyes brightening just a little. “Exactly. It’s easier to lose yourself when there’s no one expecting anything from you.”

Charles sat back, processing her words. For so long, he had been weighed down by expectations—his own, his producer’s, the fans—and it had drained him. Maybe that was the problem. He had been writing for others, forgetting that the music had always been something he did for himself first. Something he loved.

She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, breaking his thoughts. “You know,” she said, a playful lilt in her voice, “you could try playing like no one’s watching. Even if they are.”

He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, leaning in just a bit, “you’re too worried about what people think of your music. But here”—she motioned to the piano in front of them—“there’s no audience. Just us. So why not stop thinking so much and just… play?”

Charles blinked, the simplicity of her suggestion hitting him harder than it should have. She made it sound so easy, but maybe that was the point. Maybe it was supposed to be easy.

Before he could respond, she slid her fingers back onto the keys, playing a few soft chords that hummed through the air like the beginning of something new. Then she glanced sideways at him, a small, teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Come on. Share the bench again. Let’s make something together.”

A spark of excitement flared in his chest. Without another word, Charles moved closer, their knees brushing as they both settled into position, fingers poised over the keys. This time, he wasn’t overthinking it. He wasn’t wrestling with the music. He was just… there.

She started first, her melody soft and fluid, and Charles followed, instinctively matching her rhythm, letting their sounds merge and flow together. The music wasn’t perfect—it stuttered at times, shifted unexpectedly—but it was alive. It had a pulse. It breathed with them.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Charles wasn’t haunted by the silence. He wasn’t weighed down by the pressure of creating something great. He was just… playing. Creating. Feeling the music as it moved through him, through them both.

As their hands danced over the keys, weaving together something raw and beautiful, he realised something that felt both terrifying and thrilling: maybe this was what he had been missing. Not perfection. Not even recognition. Just the simple, undeniable joy of creating with someone who understood. Someone who could make the music feel real again.

When the last note faded into the quiet, Charles turned to her, his heart still racing.

“I think,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I need to stop chasing what I’ve already done and start finding something new.”

She nodded, her eyes bright and knowing. “And maybe,” she said, her voice equally quiet, “we can find it together.”

The last note lingered in the air between them, and Charles felt something warm and alive settle in his chest. The music they had made together had been unlike anything he’d played in so long—imperfect, yes, but honest. Real. The creative block that had suffocated him for weeks was finally gone, or at least, it felt that way in this fleeting moment of clarity.

She glanced at him, her smile soft but distant. She seemed different now, as though the music had taken something from her as well. Before Charles could say anything, she pushed herself up from the piano bench, her fingers lingering on the edge of the keys for just a second longer than necessary.

"I've got to go."

Her words were quiet, almost an afterthought, and they hit him with an unexpected force. She didn’t give him time to respond, to ask anything, to even say goodbye. She simply gathered her bag and moved toward the door, her steps quick and purposeful.

“Wait—” Charles started, rising halfway from the bench, but it was too late.

She turned to him for a brief moment, a smile that was part mystery, part something he couldn’t quite read crossing her lips. “Don’t stop playing, tesoro (treasure)” she said softly. “You’re closer than you think.”

And then, before he could find his voice, she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her with an eerie finality.

Charles stood frozen for a few long moments, staring at the door. His mind raced. He didn’t have her number. He didn’t know where she lived, where she studied, or how to reach her. She had slipped away like a melody in the night, as effortlessly as she’d come into his life.

With a sigh, he sank back onto the piano bench, running his hands through his hair. The room felt strangely empty without her, the space they had shared now echoing with the silence she left behind. But something inside him had shifted. The music they’d created still hummed in his veins, and the weight of doubt that had plagued him for so long felt lighter. Almost like it was dissolving, piece by piece.

He placed his hands on the keys, the cool touch of ivory grounding him, and began to play.

At first, the melody was slow, almost tentative. It mirrored the notes they’d played together, but now it began to morph into something new, something entirely his own. As his fingers moved, the music unfolded naturally, effortlessly. It was as though every piece of frustration, every sleepless night, every failed attempt to capture the right sound was now fueling something greater. Something real.

The notes swelled and cascaded, filling the room with a rich, haunting melody that seemed to flow directly from his soul. It was raw, brimming with emotion—a reflection of everything he had felt, everything he had fought against. But now, there was no more fighting. The music came freely, weaving together in ways that felt effortless and inevitable.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Charles wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t chasing perfection or wrestling with expectations. He was simply… playing. The music poured out of him like a long-held breath, each note sharper, more vivid than the last. The emotions he had buried—frustration, longing, even joy—flooded into the sound, and it consumed him.

His hands moved faster now, the melody becoming more urgent, more intense. He didn’t know where it was going, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t about the destination. It was about this—this pure, unfiltered moment of creation.

And then, without warning, a tear slipped down his cheek.

Charles barely noticed it at first, too wrapped up in the music, but soon another tear followed. And another. He wasn’t sobbing—there was no sadness in it. Instead, it was an overwhelming sense of release, of joy, of finally breaking through. The music swelled, the room vibrating with sound, and Charles felt it wash over him. A catharsis he hadn’t known he needed.

When he hit the final chord, it echoed through the room, ringing out long after his fingers had stilled. The silence that followed was profound, heavy with the weight of everything he had just poured into the keys.

Charles sat there, hands trembling slightly, staring at the piano in disbelief. A shaky laugh escaped his throat, followed by a deep, breathless exhale. He had done it. He had finally played something worth keeping.

No—it was more than that. He had played one of the best pieces of his life.

For a long while, he just sat there, his hands resting in his lap, feeling the weight of what he had just created. Tears still clung to his lashes, but his chest felt light—lighter than it had in months. Maybe years.

He wasn’t just crying because of the music. He was crying because, for the first time in a long time, he was truly happy.

Charles leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool wood of the piano, letting the last remnants of tension drain from him. His breath was steady now, calm. The room was bathed in a kind of quiet peace he hadn’t known in so long. He had no idea where the girl had gone, or if he’d ever see her again. But somehow, it didn’t matter.

The music was enough.

What he didn’t know—what he couldn’t have known—was that she hadn’t really left. Not entirely.

Outside the door, hidden in the shadows of the hallway, she stood, her back pressed against the wall. She had stopped as soon as she’d heard the first notes drift through the air, her hand hovering over the door handle but never turning it.

She had listened. Every note, every chord, every emotion Charles had poured into the piano, she had felt it too. Her heart had raced with his, her breath had caught in her throat when she’d heard the moment he broke through the wall he had been fighting against.

She smiled softly to herself, her hand finally dropping to her side as the last note of Charles’s masterpiece echoed through the studio. She had heard something in his playing tonight that she hadn’t expected. Something raw and powerful.

She turned to leave, her steps soft on the floor, leaving the sound of his triumph behind. Maybe she would come back one day, maybe not. But she knew this much—he didn’t need her anymore.

He had found his music again. And that, in itself, was enough.

As she disappeared into the night, Charles remained at the piano, still catching his breath, unaware of the quiet presence that had stayed with him until the very end.

The following days felt surreal, like a dream Charles was reluctant to wake from. After that night in the studio with the girl, his life had been interrupted by a trip to Silverstone to try out the tyres for the new season. The track buzzed with its usual energy, but no matter where he wandered, Charles’s thoughts always drifted back to her and the music they’d played together.

He had left the studio that night haunted by the memory of her delicate touch on the keys, the way their melodies had intertwined as though they’d been waiting for each other all along. He carried it with him over to England, through busy track meets and silent hotel rooms. Late at night, when sleep wouldn’t come, he would close his eyes and hear her music, as if it had lodged itself permanently in his mind.

It wasn’t just the music, though. It was her—the quiet way she had smiled at him, the lightness in her voice when she teased him, the sense of understanding that had passed between them without needing to be spoken.

Now, as Charles stepped back into the familiar silence of the studio late at night right off the plane, he felt a quiet anticipation coiled tightly in his chest. The lights were dim, the air cool and still, and for a moment, it felt like time had paused. The room was empty, and there was no trace of her—no soft melody floating through the air, no sound of delicate fingers dancing across the keys.

Disappointment stirred, settling somewhere deep. He’d been hoping, perhaps foolishly, that she’d be here. That they could pick up where they’d left off. He made his way to the piano, where the polished surface glinted in the low light, as inviting as ever.

And then he saw it—a small note left on the piano bench. His pulse quickened as he unfolded it, her handwriting instantly recognizable, though scrawled in that same casual, hurried way:

"Play with your heart, tesoro."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. The simplicity of the message was so very her. It was a whisper, a reminder of what mattered. A push, gentle but certain.

Charles set the note aside and sat down on the bench, the studio eerily quiet around him. For a moment, he just sat there, the weight of the piano keys beneath his fingers, the faint memory of their music hovering in the air. Then, without thinking too much, he began to play.

The melody started slow, almost hesitant, each note like a thought he hadn’t quite formed yet. But as he played, the music unfolded into something deeper, something more intimate. It wasn’t complicated or grand—it didn’t need to be. It was soft, heartfelt, like a quiet conversation spoken in a language only they understood.

He let go of the pressure, the constant need to craft something perfect, and instead just let the music be what it was—a reflection of what he felt, of what had been buried deep inside him since he’d met her. The music filled the room, curling into the corners like a secret. And for the first time in what felt like months, he felt at peace.

As the last notes lingered in the air, a soft sound broke the quiet. Applause—light, slow, and warm.

Charles turned, startled, and there she was, standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. She was watching him, her hands clasped softly in front of her, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with something tender, something familiar. She’d been listening, perhaps the whole time.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Charles murmured, his voice softer than the room itself.

She took a few quiet steps toward him, her gaze never leaving his. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said gently, her smile deepening. “It was beautiful.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room felt suspended in a kind of stillness, the last remnants of his melody hanging between them, but no words were needed to fill the quiet. She came closer, and Charles shifted slightly on the bench, instinctively making space for her. She sat beside him, their shoulders brushing softly in the small space, the warmth of her presence settling something inside him.

“Play it again,” she whispered, her voice low, like a secret shared just between them.

He hesitated for a second, but then his fingers found their way back to the keys, this time slower, more deliberate. The music that spilled out was softer now, more intimate, as if shaped by the quiet weight of her sitting beside him. She watched as his hands moved, her gaze gentle, and as he played, the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them and the music between them.

After a few moments, her fingers joined his, their hands moving together over the keys with a quiet ease. Her touch was so light, so effortless, and the sound they created was simple yet achingly beautiful—a melody that spoke of longing and connection, of words unspoken but deeply felt. There was no rush, no urgency in the way they played, only a slow unfolding of something real and fragile.

Charles stole a glance at her, his heart tightening. There was something unspoken in the air, something that went beyond the music they shared. He could feel it in the way she leaned in ever so slightly, the way her breath seemed to sync with his, the soft, steady rhythm of their playing.

When the last note faded into the stillness, neither of them moved. They sat there, shoulders barely touching, the silence around them thick with the weight of everything unsaid. Slowly, she turned her head toward him, her eyes soft, her smile quiet but full of meaning.

“You played with your heart,” she whispered, her words echoing the note she had left for him.

Charles’s throat tightened, the room suddenly feeling too small, too full of everything he hadn’t yet said. He turned toward her, his voice catching in his chest as he whispered back, “You make it easier.”

Her smile deepened, and for a moment, there was only the soft rise and fall of their breathing, the music they had created still lingering in the air around them. It felt like something had shifted between them, like a door had been opened that couldn’t easily be closed again.

And as they sat there, side by side on the piano bench, Charles realised that the silence no longer felt heavy. It felt full—of possibility, of something quiet and beautiful, waiting patiently to be discovered.

Together.

Charles’s heart raced, the air between them thick with anticipation. They sat in a charged stillness, so close their breaths seemed to mingle. The soft light of the studio flickered gently against her face, casting shadows that made her seem almost otherworldly. Her lips parted, just slightly, as if waiting for something—an unspoken invitation.

Before he could think too much about it, before doubt could creep in, Charles leaned in.

At first, it was tentative—a brush of lips so light it felt like it might disappear if he wasn’t careful. He kissed her softly, testing the moment, unsure if he was crossing some unseen line. But then she responded, her lips pressing back against his with the same quiet hunger he hadn’t realised was burning between them all along.

The kiss deepened, their soft breaths mingling in the quiet. A slow, intoxicating warmth spread through Charles’s chest, pulling him further in. He cupped her face gently with his hand, his thumb brushing against her cheek as their lips moved together, tentative but growing bolder with each passing second. Her hand found his, her fingers slipping between his, and she pulled him closer, as though the space between them had become unbearable.

Suddenly, the kiss wasn’t soft anymore—it became something more urgent, more passionate, the weight of everything they hadn’t said spilling over into the kiss. Charles felt his pulse quicken, his mind lost in the warmth and closeness of her. He slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her in deeper, their lips moving together in a rhythm that felt as natural as the music they had created moments ago.

She shifted slightly on the bench, her body pressing closer to his, and the heat between them grew. The world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them in the dim, quiet studio, the echoes of their kiss the only sound. The softness of her touch, the taste of her lips—it was all intoxicating, a crescendo building within him.

Charles could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he didn’t want it to stop. He could have stayed in that moment forever, lost in the intensity of her kiss, in the way her hands tangled in his hair, in the way she fit so perfectly against him.

But then, as though sensing they were both on the edge of something overwhelming, Charles pulled back just slightly, his lips still lingering close to hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness. They were both breathing harder, and for a moment, neither spoke.

Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with his, wide and full of something unspoken. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and Charles had to fight the urge to pull her back into another kiss.

“Tesoro” she whispered, her voice soft and a little breathless, as though she couldn’t quite find the words.

He smiled gently, his thumb brushing over her lips before he let his hand fall away, resting on the piano between them. His heart still raced, but there was something peaceful now, something right. He hadn’t felt this in so long—this connection, this ease.

“I need to thank you, angioletto ” Charles murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.

“For what?” she asked, her eyes searching his, a quiet vulnerability in her gaze.

“For inspiring this,” he said, his words soft but heavy with meaning. “For inspiring me.” He gestured toward the piano, where the notes of their shared music still seemed to hover in the air between them. “That song we played together… I never would have found it without you.”

Her lips parted, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes shimmered with something deeper, something that mirrored what Charles was feeling.

“You’ve helped me more than you know,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before you, I was stuck. I couldn’t write, couldn’t feel the music anymore. But playing with you—it’s like something clicked. You brought it back.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile growing, but there was a quiet tenderness in her expression, as if she understood all the things he wasn’t saying. Slowly, she leaned in, resting her forehead gently against his, and they stayed like that, breathing each other in, the world softening around them.

“I’m glad I could help,” she whispered, her voice a soft caress against his skin.

Charles closed his eyes, letting the moment settle between them, the weight of her words sinking in. He had been searching for something—chasing it endlessly, driving himself to exhaustion in its pursuit. But sitting here, with her, with the music they had created still vibrating in the air, he realised he had already found it.

It wasn’t just the music. It was her. She had become his muse in more ways than one.

He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze once more, his eyes searching hers for a long moment. And then, without another word, he kissed her again—slowly, tenderly this time. It was a kiss filled not with urgency, but with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable.

And in that kiss, Charles knew he wasn’t just thanking her for the music. He was thanking her for being the spark that had reignited something inside him, for being the light in a place that had felt dark for so long.

When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers once more, the two of them still breathing each other in, their hearts in sync. The studio was quiet now, but it wasn’t empty. The music they had shared—the connection they had formed—lingered in the air like a promise.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Charles felt whole.

send me a message if you want to be on my perm tag list <3

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #original character #formula one x reader #ferrari formula one #ferrari formula 1 #ferrari #charles leclerc #logan sargeant #williams racing #carlos sainz #teacher au

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coeurify · 1 year ago

Note

actually on my knees begging for a girl next door blurb with Ellie

like imagine moving into the house next to her’s and her being all grumbly and closed off because she cannot physically face the reader because she’s just a loser lesbian and OMG THE UNKNOWN PINING SUJDJSNSNDB

I NEED HER I CANT-

WHERE IS THE LOVE FOR LOSER GND!ELLIE ⁉️

giggles.. cause like.. yea.

if we r talking modern!ellie, oh god would it be the most cliche shit ever (plz tell me if u want jackson!ellie version cause i’d be happy to do that too. or jus more of this concept) [not edited]

⋆˚✿˖° im talking, ellie looking out from her window in her old house, eyes narrowing as a moving truck pulled into the pretty blue house next door. the neighborhood had been recently taken over by young families, which ellie hated— cause why was she being interrupted in her ‘laying in her bed while blasting music and complaining to herself’ alone time by a bunch of kids screaming outside? either way. she expected another one of these cases.

⋆˚✿˖° but then you popped out, trying to handle three boxes all on your own, cheek pressed against the cardboard as you yelled something ellie couldn’t hear to whoever else was in moving truck. you had glanced over at ellie’s house, maybe even up at her window. and maybe ellie was just dramatic, but she flipped away from that window and face down onto her bed so quickly she was pretty sure it was a new record. because fuck you were pretty.

⋆˚✿˖° and it only got worse later, when el was pulling her hair down from its bun, glancing the sun pressing below the clouds. her fingers moved to close the curtains of her window, and there you were, standing at the window directly across from hers. like— shit straight from a taylor swift music video or something.

⋆˚✿˖° and you, almost as awkward as her, let your hands fall down from their place above your head. you had been putting up shades, but once you caught the gaze of your messy haired neighbor, you smiled at her. fuck, you smiled and waved and ellie just turned away and shut her curtains. you know, like the master at social interactions she was.

⋆˚✿˖° a twin frown painted both your lips at the interaction that night, and at the same time you both huffed out, “god, why’d i do that?”

⋆˚✿˖° nothing really got better from there. not when your family forced you over to ellie’s house with a plate of cookies, your sweet smile the first sight ellie had seen that day as she turned the doorknob to shoo away some girl scout selling something. “we don’t need— oh— oh hi.”

⋆˚✿˖° you looked so fucking pretty. ellie was sure it was fake. maybe she was still in bed dreaming. maybe this was about to turn into one of those really weird s- never mind. you were talking now, and not asking to borrow sugar, so definitely real. “hi! uh— I just, we— i mean, my family, we just wanted to introduce ourselves. and give a gift i guess,” you glance to the plate of wrapped up treats and chuckle lightly. because really, cookies?

⋆˚✿˖° ellie was about red as the shirt she was wearing, stammering a thank you as joel creeped behind her at the door. “you the new neighbors kid?” joel had asked, making ellie clam right up. she backed away from the door, like— just side shuffled out of your view with an awkward wave.

⋆˚✿˖° your eyes followed her, fighting back the odd sense of disappointment that you were no longer staring at the freckled and flushed face of your new neighbor. “uh, yea—yes sir.” you eventually spoke again, offering your grin to joel instead.

⋆˚✿˖° one time joel was doing yard work the same time your family was outside working on the garden. you were fanning your sweating cheek with your hand, the warmth from the sun along with carrying in and out heavy tools was not exactly ideal, and you only felt more heated when ellie came outside the door at the exact moment joel ended up making conversation with your mother.

⋆˚✿˖° “your girl in college?” you could hear him ask, but it was lightly muffled, your attention instead on watching as ellie struggled to bend over and tie her converse against the wall. what an odd way to do it. she was balancing some sort of notebook between arm.. maybe pencils too? did she draw? or maybe write? why couldn’t you stop wondering about it?

⋆˚✿˖° your mom answered joel’s question with some version of the story she always does, gushing about how you were doing so well in school, how she was so proud of you. you didn’t tune back in until joel was speaking again, “ah yea, my — well, ellie, she’s in school too. physics major. but she’s got this thing for astronomy too. kid’s always talking about double majoring.”

⋆˚✿˖° god, she was cute and smart? and her name was ellie? you swore the sun got even hotter at the thought of her talking to you about quantum something-or-other, just nodding along. god you could see it now. a hand in that pretty auburn hair.. mumbling ‘mhm.. whatever you say ellie.’

⋆˚✿˖° then you saw her trip down the stairs on her porch as she looked over. full on hand on the side of the stairs to keep her from eating shit on the rocks there. you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling a giggle as you wave her way. only to be given a tight lipped smile as she quickly moved away to her car. god. what an odd girl.

⋆˚✿˖° ellie simply lost it the moment she sat in her car, groaning loudly as she slammed her sketch book on her face. “stupid fucking shoes!” she muttered, as if it was the shoes fault for tripping, and not the way she had been intently staring at your face from across the yard. definitely not.

⋆˚✿˖° but really she couldn’t help it, you looked so good, you were wearing shorts, and ellie was happily taking in the sight of skin before that evil fucking creaky porch board got her tumbling down. fuck. she couldn’t ever talk to you again. not ever. she let her head fall to the steering wheel as she went through a million and one ways to simply become invisible and escape any way of running into you. maybe she should become nocturnal.

⋆˚✿˖° but when she let her head fall to the steering wheel, it honked. like a loud, drawn out honk that had you, joel, and your mother’s head turning to the direction of the sound.

⋆˚✿˖° ellie screeched, and you pressed fingers to your lips to contain another smile. you were pretty sure living here was going to be kind of great.

#not my writing comeback.. urm #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff

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innorogers · 2 months ago

Text

Reverie

Steve Rogers x Reader (You)

Summary: Steve doesn't care about you past, but he is hesitating if he should take things further. Until he saw that punk trying to make a move on you...wait, did he say his name is Walker? John Fucking Walker?!

Warning: Minors DNI / Minors DNI / First Time / First Date / Fluff? / Smut / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: Natasha, Tony, OCs, John Walker, Timeline is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive.

Also: You don't have to read the previous two chapters, but it would enhance the experience if you did. And thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️

Chapter 1: Insomnia | Chapter 2: Lucid

"We'd better get going…" you panted between breaths, your words more moans and whispers than actual sentences. As his lips moved further into your skin, the glasses of the windows grow foggier and steamed.

"...I know... we should," he replied, marking your collarbone with his voice hoarse and raspy. One hand pressed against your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, while the other tangled in your hair. "I just don’t think I can…" he muttered, kissing your breast and leaving love marks, sucking and soothing them.

Me neither. You thought to yourself while grabbing his head to pull him closer. And I don't want to.

But the car horns honked twice outside the building, jolting Steve to a halt.

"Shit, I don’t think we’re getting away with this..." he sighs, breathing heavily as he rested his head on your shoulder, trying to calm his body. It was hard, though, especially with you looking the way you did—hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, forehead damp, and lips swollen. Goddamn, you are sexy as fuck. Your shirt was half-torn, shoulders marked with bites, and you were panting in a way that drove him wild.

"We need to..." He tried to button up your shirt but sighed and gave up. Honestly, he wanted to do the opposite.

You laughed, fixing his messy hair. Jumping off the desk, helped straighten his collar. "There." You smiled up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As much as I want to stay, we’d better hurry."

"I know, I know..." Steve grumbled as the car honked again. "Do you need to change?" he asked, adjusting his shirt and glancing at the waiting car.

"Nope, thank goodness for this," you said, grabbing your lab coat. "Or it would be too obvious." You covered yourself and smoothed out your clothes.

"Too obvious of what?" he teased. "You think they’ll suspect something?"

"Well... no." You quickly got ready and helped him by tugging the back of his shirt. "I doubt anyone expects us to show up together—they’ll just think it’s a coincidence."

"Tony knows. That’s why he sent the damn car." Steve scoffed, taking your hand as he led you outside, opening the door for you.

"In his defense, this meeting was set two weeks ago." You smiled, taking his hand once seated, fingers intertwined as you sighed contentedly. "I just forgot because I was... very distracted."

The car began moving, thankfully driverless and on autopilot, giving Steve the chance to take your hand again. The cool AC calmed both of you, letting you think more clearly. You tried to focus on the upcoming meeting, but it was impossible when he started kissing your fingers.

"He wants us to concentrate and send a car with no driver?" Steve grinned as the campus blurred by. “He is challenging my imagination.”

"Maybe no one wants to see what’s happening here," you whispered in his ear, as if anyone could hear. "Or we'd have to kill them afterward."

He laughed, finally relaxing, just holding your hand and gazing out the window.

You tried too, looking at the passing green grass and buildings, but your eyes kept drifting to him. And your mind is going wild.

OMG what you’ve done, and what's happening here.

You and Steve had only met two days ago on the training field at midnight. Both of you were suffering from insomnia, and what began as a friendly, slightly naïve conversation to help each other sleep turned into the best night of your lives.

And now... this.

Well, you weren’t sure what "this" was.

After that night, he walked you to your room, kissed you goodnight, and probably went straight to read your file.

Then, the next thing you knew, he showed up at your secluded lab and kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

Until your boss/friend Mr. Stark interrupted you from heading a home run all the way, by calling to remind you there were cameras everywhere and that PG-18 scenes should be saved for after hours or, better yet, off-campus.

He also kindly reminded you that the meeting both of you were expected was in 20 minutes. And just in case you "got carried away and lost track of time," his words, he sent the car.

After a few seconds of silence, as you try to make sense of things, Steve suddenly realizes: "I don’t even remember what this meeting is about."

"It’s not a meeting. Technically, it’s a... how’d you call it? Hmm... an opening ceremony?" You repeat the words Tony used when he walked you through it.

"Important people from important groups are coming to visit around, and to make peace after the Blip. They’re deploying their heavy hitters, so all our level 3s have to be there."

"And you’re... level... 2?" Steve asked, trying to recall. He had read your file but only focused on some key details of your past, not the present.

"I’m a level A," you chuckled at Steve’s 'is that even a thing?' expression and explained, "Just like Peter Parker. I have access to everything, as long as Tony wants me to."

"Oh... and... why do you need to be there?" Steve wanted to know more, but as the car approached the destination, he could see people walking toward the grand hall.

"Well, I’m not expected by the guests, but by Tony. And you know what they say: the most dangerous place is the safest. After all, I’m not exactly on their 'white list'..."

You saw his expression change, and he tightened his grip on your hand. "You shouldn’t be hiding. You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I didn’t?" You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t had the time, or the courage, to read your full file. He was just following his instincts about you, his feelings, and his heart.

"But still, I don’t think they’re ready for 'this'." You gestured to your intertwined hands.

"And this shouldn’t be the topic of today’s conversation. I think this event is more about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ kinda stuff…"

That made him laugh. He leaned his head back against the seat, muttering softly, "I wouldn’t care if they saw us."

"Eventually." You smiled at him. "And there’s something sexy about keeping it a secret, Captain." You sit in closer. "I like it." You blinked, motioning to the people passing by the car.

"When they’re out there... and they don’t know... about this." Then you leaned forward to give him a kiss.

Steve’s body tensed at the touch of your lips, so you immediately pulled back, thinking you were pushing too far.

"Yeah you are right, I’m sorry, they might have seen us..." You nervously glanced outside. "Although these windows..." and before you could finish, he grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you deeply and fiercely, leaving you breathless.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low and ragged, as he bites your lower lip. "It is sexy. I love when you do things like this...it drives me crazy..."

“Oh…” your face was burning: “That’s settled then.” And you see the car is about to enter the parking lot arriving at its destination: “Can we do that again?”

Steve let out a loud chuckle before leaning over and kissed you gently: “Yes ma’am.”

To be honest, he doesn’t know what he is doing either.

As soon as Steves leaves you – You’ve finally decided to enter the compound separately, but not before he kissed you deep and hard in the elevator – His mind starts to clear. Senses are coming back to him.

As one of the greatest military tacticians in history, Steve acknowledges your past: a Hydra experiment, held captive your entire life until your escape and rescue; he knows you weren’t brainwashed, but borned and raised under Hydra’s control, and yes, he met you just two days ago.

His reasonable mind is making a lot of rational thinking as the military savant he is, and his strategies have always been like complex webs of logic, each thread delicately woven to ensure victory, while his enemies find themselves ensnared before they even realize it.

So yeah, he should be analyzing you, reading your file, investigating your past, predicting your moves—or at the very least, watching you closely to see if any remnants of Hydra remain.

But instead…

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You were steps ahead of him, and he felt like seeing you through those large professional lenses, where all the background is blurred in macro, drawing circles of light, and only your silhouette is sharpened.

You were smiling and nodding to people saying hi to you, a little bit shy, somehow oddly adorable... He was in awe. Some folks saluted you as if with…respect? He observed quietly. He even saw a lab guy saying to his teammate something like 'omg she said hi back to me'.

What's your superpower, Steve wondered.

He’s sure he never noticed you before (how could he have missed you?), and he's certain you’ve never been on a mission together.

Suddenly, someone with a lab coat runs by your side, all excited as if they've drunk ten coffees in a row.

"Dr. Lancaster, Dr. Lancaster? I figured it out..." He shows you an iPad, and Steve can see how everyone around you is pretending to be minding their own business but is actually listening to the conversation.

“…If we could modify the energy matrix in the arc reactor, we could potentially bypass the Coulomb barrier altogether…we can be talking about cold fusion without the magnetic confinement…!” The lab guy seems all over the clouds.

“Oh.” You look surprised yet shy, you sweep your hair back: “um…How do you plan on stabilizing the reaction without the electromagnetic field imploding?”

“I knew you’d get it!” The tech was so excited he nearly dropped his glasses: “What if we shift the reactor’s frequency to align with zero-point energy fluctuations?” He was jumping all over the place: “The Casimir effect could, theoretically, counterbalance the repulsion long enough to initiate fusion. No magnetic field required!”

“You wanna um…tapping into the vacuum energy of the quantum field to power the reaction?” You look amazed but concerned: “I mean, sure, theory holds, but the amount of energy you’d need to harness would be… astronomical. How do you prevent runaway entropy?”

“If you can artificially create a gravitational lens, focus the zero-point fluctuations and keep them from destabilizing. That’s how I did it.” A voice chimes in from behind.

Tony, hands in his fancy suit pockets, shrugs and taps his watch. "Five minutes everyone, or you'll miss the warm-up act."

When everyone hears the big boss, they start walking faster toward the compound.

Tony glances at you and the lab tech. “Test that theory using vibranium as the containment medium. It can store large amounts of kinetic energy without degrading, so you won’t vaporize this whole place. The first prototype is broken and used, so…we can get another one. And honey…” He turns to you and, with a glance at Steve, sighs in irritation. “Ugh... forget it.”

Tony walks past Steve and whispers as they head inside, "Ten minutes late. That’s a first."

“And worth every second,” Steve replies, giving you a final glance, smiling as he notices your blush.

“So... what’s her talent?” he asks once they’re a bit further away.“Being super smart?”

It sounded sarcastic but he was super serious. Steve might’ve once thought being smart wasn’t a superpower, but after witnessing what Tony and Bruce can do, he now knows it’s one of the most powerful things of all.

“Yeah ‘smart’ is not even close, ‘brilliant’, or ‘magnificently intelligent’ would be the right words, and also…not that’s that important, but um…” Tony makes that typical ‘not a big deal’ face, trying to play it off.

“She…um…She possesses bio-synthetic ocular emitters that generate and manipulate high-frequency electromagnetic radiation across a variable spectrum, allowing her to penetrate solid matter and perceive stratified atomic structures and molecular compositions in real-time, facilitated by a neuro-integrated quantum processing cortex that reconstructs layered 3D imaging at the subatomic level with unparalleled precision."

Tony winks at Steve. And then rolls his eyes and says: “She’s got some kinda X-ray vision that lets her see the layers and components of things.”

“Couldn’t you just say that…”

They walk past the people and head backstage, where the team and a bunch of other people are waiting. Steve knows they won't be able to continue the conversation due to all the smart chat they'll need to do with these VIPs, so he stops before entering the room.

He needs to ask the most important question.

“Why did you keep her? Nat said you went through hell to keep her out of the feds' reach. Why?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. Oh, Rogers, you’re falling hard, huh? He blinks at Steve.

“Do you want me to be brutally honest?”

“Don’t I always?”

Iron Man started counting: “First, I genuinely think that someone with those powers would be highly prejudicial and harmful if she is on any side but ours. Second, I like her, well, not in the same way you like 'like' her...…but she is good, she is…” He tries to find a word: “Selfless. That makes me nuts, cause when you have no human ambition, what you gonna do to be a keeper, right? Aaaand third, she asked. So...”

He shrugged his shoulders and started thinking aloud and spoke quickly as Tony always does. “You know what? This is perfect, yeah, so…I’ve struggled…no, never mind, this is perfect. Yeah ok, we gotta go…”

He tilts his head toward Pepper, who’s staring at him. “Before I get locked out tonight.”

Steve has a hundred more questions, but when he sees Maria giving him the same look Pepper is giving Tony, along with all those important suits waiting, he gives in. “Yeah... right. The heavy hitters.”

The "heavy hitters" weren’t just important people from important organizations.

There was the Secretary of Defense, a bunch of senators, generals and colonels from the U.S. Army, the National Security Advisor—whatever the title is—Wakandan generals, CIA directors and their agents, and a whole lot of U.S. soldiers.

Steve was impressed, not by their presence, but because he had completely forgotten this event was on the agenda. And the reason for that? You.

Yeah the whole speeches, panels, interactions were just as you said, about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ blah blah blah, Steve wasn’t even listening. Who gives a damn.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

He was focused on you, and his mind was a mess.

So you can see through solid objects, huh? Does that work on people too? Do you see him as a walking skeleton? Is your power what makes you so smart, or were you always brilliant and Hydra just added the ability? Are you free tonight? What did you mean when you asked if he “considered taking this thing further”? Further to where? To like a date, or further as…forever? Is that a love bite on your neck? Did he do that? God, you look stunning with your hair like that...

“If your gaze were a lightsaber, that poor girl would be ashes by now,” Natasha whispered as she leaned over to Steve. “Would you stop? It’s really weird.”

Steve chuckled, trying to put on a serious face, but he couldn’t help himself. He glanced at the speaker on stage, doing his best to focus.

It was a struggle, though. From what he knew about you, you came across as socially naive, unworldly even, with a deep trust in others. He was tempted but didn’t want to do anything that might feel like he was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

But…he’s doing it again, staring at you from afar, you look so adorable, damn it. Your hair is still a little messy, standing in the crowd and biting your thumbnail like a bored student waiting for the bell to ring.

You caught his stare, your eyes flicking up, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at you. He mouthed a ‘I miss you’, and your heart raced so fast you dropped your phone. Someone passing by picked it up for you, and you probably mumbled something like “'ank you” cheeks blazing so red you couldn’t even make eye contact or finish the sentence.

Steve forced himself to look away, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. His expression must have been strange because even the speaker started to turn red.

Natasha nudged him with an elbow, and they both smiled at the poor guy, who was now panicking under the combined stares of Captain America and Black Widow.

“Hey…” Steve overheard a voice behind him.

“Do you know who that girl is?” The guy who picked your phone up—some military man—was talking to his teammate, he was several rows behind and talking low but Steve could hear it anyway.

“Who? Where?” his companion asked.

“That one, I just picked up her phone. There…in the second row.”

“Oh! That one? That’s…” The team mate teased: “…someone completely out of your league.”

“Shut up.” The guy chuckled: “I’m gonna give it a try anyway. I’ll ask for her number. Damn that’s the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.”

Ok. Steve clenched his jaw. Fuck chivalry. He was done worrying about your social skills. Maybe it was time to take your advice and take things further. Or he could have Jarvis or Friday change your number...

“I bet you don’t get it.” A third voice joined the conversation. "Hoskins is right, Walker. She’s out of your league."

Did he just said, Walker? Steve’s eyes widened as his fists tightened.

“Yeah John, first round you don’t get it.”

“Well…” John laughs, “Guess you’ll be buying two rounds for me and my date tonight.”

In your fucking dreams, Walker. Stay the fuck away from my girl. Steve pulled out his phone. Not even thinking about how you’d gone from "who is she?" and "what are her powers?" to "my girl."

A message from an unknown sender just popped up on your screen.

"What are you doing tonight?"

You frowned. Who is this?

You usually don't give your number to others. Mainly because you don't actually know your number (you don't have enough social events to bother remembering it). Plus, it’s in the public records for investigation departments, in case someone from work needs it. Cause who else would need it?

You glanced around. A few colleagues were watching you, but none gave any obvious signs of being the sender.

Just in case, you replied: "Testing in the lab." The task Tony had given you earlier sounded promising, and you’re eager to give it a try.

"Can I join you?" The reply comes almost instantly. Must be Dr. Lin then—it’s his discovery, after all. Makes sense.

"Sure." you reply.

"Anything you’d prefer for dinner?"

Oh. No, wait. Now you're uncertain. When was the last time Dr. Lin had anything but organic food? The guy counts calories in every meal since you’ve known him.

"Who is this?"

Steve let out a loud laugh, and everyone stared at him, especially the speaker on stage, who was in the middle of a serious and tragic speech and was going through the emotional part.

"Stop it." Natasha shook her head, warning him in a whisper while smiling at the speaker. "Just stop it."

Tony rolled his eyes in the front row. Ugh, lovefools.

But Steve couldn’t stop laughing, and he didn’t stop messaging you.

"I’m your date, if you’ll have me."

"Oh. Mike? Sorry, I didn’t have your number."

His laugh stopped.

"Just kidding, Cap. I’ll have whatever you want ;)"

Oh damn, you got him. His heart leaped back into place. Steve looked up and spotted you, blushing as you put your phone away. He felt like giving a big smile but held back—for the poor speaker’s sake, who had already been tortured enough.

"A date it is." he replied. He considered adding an emoji, but nope—he didn’t know how that worked.

So, "whatever you want", huh? What should he bring? Did you mention anything about your preferences the night you met? Italian? Chinese? Thai? Japanese?

"Is there..." he asked Nat, his voice low enough only she could hear, "any good takeout within five minutes?"

Natasha was about to answer when her phone buzzed with a message from Tony: "Tell Rogers to knock it off."

So they both put on their best serious faces and listened to the rest of the speech. Luckily, it was short, and Steve applauded harder than he should, just to make up for his weird behavior throughout.

"If you go straight to her." Once the whole thing was over, Natasha said softly in a voice only he could hear, "it’ll be too obvious. And Tony and Rhodey will shoot lasers from their eyes to your ass, stay put, this is important."

"I know." Steve smiled, shook hands with some senator, and stuck around for a bit of small talk, though his attention was elsewhere.

He spotted John Walker approaching you. So moving without drawing attention, Steve shifted the group he was with closer to you.

He hated to admit it, but John Walker? The guy was fine. In that military uniform, with all those badges, he could probably charm any girl—if this wasn’t a hall full of superheroes. Steve listened carefully through the room’s noise, trying to catch your conversation.

Of course, you had no idea.

You didn’t know someone was nearby, standing and staring at you. You were too busy smiling at your phone like an idiot.

"Excuse me. What?" you asked when this guy repeated himself. The hall was full of chatter, so you had to get closer to hear.

"John Walker, ma’am." He flashed a bright smile, but you weren’t looking.

"Oh." You recognized him as the guy who picked up your phone earlier, and a blush crept onto your face as you recalled how clumsy you’d been, dropping your phone because Steve had smiled at you.

"Oh... yeah, um, I’m Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster. Thank you for that... Captain?" You weren’t sure about his rank, guessing based on the uniform.

"Nice to meet you, Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster." He widened his smile, mistaking your blush for something else, and shook your hand. "Well... since I rescued your phone, any chance I could get your number?"

"Aw!" Steve’s hand suddenly clamped down on some poor guy’s during a handshake. "Quite a grip you’ve got there, Cap."

"I beg your pardon." Steve forced a smile through clenched teeth, still listening to your conversation.

"Oh..." Now you were blushing for real. "Um..." You were trying to figure out how to get out of this awkward situation.

Not only because you didn’t know your number, but also because you didn’t want to give it to Captain Walker.

You thought fast and came up with the first lame excuse that popped into your head.

"I can’t. "

You look at him with your most innocent and serious face. You sound so sincere and genuine.

"It’s confidential."

Steve let out a burst of laughter. That’s my girl. The senator in front of him—yes, the same one he had been teasing through the whole event—went pale. He was telling another moving story about his experience during the Blip when Captain America giggled.

Tony threw an arm around Steve’s neck and mumbled in a warning tone: "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?"

"I’m so sorry." Steve hurried after the poor man, trying to keep a straight face. "Come on, Senator Kingsley...I’m sorry…"

As soon as John Walker’s attention shifted to Steve, you took a step back and mumbled something like, "Um... Nice to meet you, Captain Walker. Gotta go."

"Yeah, what? Yeah, sure..." Walker turned around, but you were long gone before he could come up with a smart reply.

Of course, you had to go—you had a date.

Two hours later, the idea was still circling in your mind. But...

"What am I wearing?" you suddenly blurted out.

"...What?" Dr. Lin looked at you, confused. "Now? A white coat…"

He was just in a very inspirational speech about the theory of a quantum anchor to handle subatomic fluctuations when you interrupted with that.

You thought for a second, then decided you didn’t give a shit about the possibility of opening a wormhole that could deviate spatial-temporal coordinates or create a cascading paradox that unravels dimensions as you know them. You cared more about the upcoming date.

It was not just a date, it was the date.

So you took a deep breath, looked at your colleague seriously, and said, "I have a date, Dr. Lin. And I don’t know what to wear because I’ve never had one."

"Oh..." Dr. Lin looked you over. "That’s not a surprise, Dr. Lancaster." He whispered something like, "We should have known... you live and breathe only in this lab... just like your plants."

"I don’t have... anything." You spread your hands. "He’s coming to my lab in a few hours... should I...?" burn all my clothes and buy new ones? No way you’d make it in time.

"Well." He gave you a ‘what are you gonna do’ face and circled you. "Mm... not much we can do, actually. Here, lift your hair. No, not all of it, leave some strands. Yes..." He took off your glasses. "Do you have lipstick? No?! You don’t? Girl... GOD. Um... okay."

He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a chapstick. "Here. This is cherry. I don’t know... um... oh, and this!" He handed you a bottle. "Put this on."

"What is this?" You opened the tube, sniffing it. "Perfume?"

"Better. This, Dr. Lancaster, is the Felix Felicis of perfumes."

"Like... in Harry Potter?"

"Theoretically, this is a chemical liquid compound that exhibits adaptive olfactory reactivity, dynamically modulating its molecular structure upon detecting neurochemical feedback from the subject's sensory receptors, thereby... transforming into the individual's most psychologically favored aromatic profile." He grinned like a proud scientist.

"So, it’s a magic liquid that becomes your favorite scent when you smell it?"

"Not favorite, Dr. Lancaster. The most arousing smell." Dr. Lin’s eyes lit up as he introduced his invention.

"Girl, put this on, I guarantee, he’ll be all over you. And call me Robert, I beg you.”

"Is that..." You raised an eyebrow. "Is that even legal?" And this was Steve you were talking about—the guy had senses times four.

"Oh come on, just use one drop." Dr. Lin dabbed a bit on his finger and tapped it on your neck. "There. I don’t think he’ll even notice, but just in case..."

"Oh. Okay." You still didn’t know what to expect.

"Look, I’ll leave you to it then." Dr. Lin—no, Robert—gathered his things. "Enough testing for today. And you’re gonna tell me all about it on Monday, okay? Oh, and Dr. Lancaster..."

He glanced around your lab. "This is perfect. Private, secluded... just make sure to put away all the explosive liquids you have around... ok? See ya!"

“Oh.” You glance around too. Yeah, that’s a great point, you nod as you wave goodbye to a very excited Dr. Lin, still not having a clue what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what you do best: you work.

You do a little bit of cleaning, organizing; the place looks amazing, at least from your point of view, and since you had time, you start another round of testing.

You don’t even notice when Steve walks in, with the sunset sky behind him and the first stars rising in the north. He’s carrying a basket, and his breath is taken away by the sight of you standing at your workbench, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, turning the whole room into a glowing, serene golden rose.

He stands there for a while, just watching, taking it all in.

“Cap, are you coming in anytime soon?” you ask, adjusting the metal pieces of the robotic arm.

“I’m really hungry and tired of pretending I’m so cool with robotics here.”

Steve laughs and sets the basket on the table before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your hair. “Hey.”

You inhale deeply, finally letting go of the breath you’d been holding since you heard his footsteps.

“Well, that’s not gonna do.” You smile and give him a proper kiss on the lips. “Yeah, now I’m recharged.”

Steve grins, holding you tighter as he kisses you back. “Yeah, me too.” He deepens the kiss. “God… you smell so good.”

Oh wow. You open your eyes as you return the kiss. Did Dr. Lin’s magic elixir really work this fast?

Well, then there’s a good chance this could go further, right?

Of course he’s taking it further.

Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

Maybe it’s because he’s been thinking about you all day. Maybe it’s because he was so mad and determined to be with you after that punk tried to make a move on you. Or maybe it’s just you—you have this unknown thing that drives him wild.

It's the way you move, the way you smile or talk or breathe or just… exist, that makes him unreasonably and madly… in love.

You finish dinner (a unanimously voted menu by the whole team—who knew the Avengers were so bored?), and are just starting on the cold white wine when he tries to wipe some ice cream from your lips. The next thing you know… you’re all over the couch.

Well, you started it, you think as he hovers over you.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bitten his thumb when he was caressing your lips, or maybe you shouldn’t have breathed so heavily while he was kissing you and roaming over your body. Maybe you shouldn’t have whispered his name like that… but oh god, who cares? It feels so good.

“We should…” Stop. Steve tries to pull out his rational side, but his hands are far too busy running down your side, lingering on your hip.

“Go to bed?” You’re panting and shivering, your hands on his neck and his back, trying to pull him closer. “There’s, um… a bedroom right at the back, and… it has a beautiful garden view.” As if that mattered now at all.

Steve lets out a soft chuckle, resting his head on your neck. Then, after a pause, he lifts himself slightly, creating some space between you two.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… there’s no coming back from that. Are you…” He gasps, caressing your face. “And if we don’t do anything, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“And…” You sit up straight, looking at him, intrigued. “How… how do you feel about me?”

“It feels...” He thinks for a moment, intertwining your fingers with his and giving you a soft smile.

“Correct. Right. Complete.” He kisses your fingers, then looks up at you. “You make me feel complete.” He paused: “And you?”

You stay there for a moment in silence, glancing at him.

“Like…”

You try to describe it with nice words but you can’t.

“It's like my heart is so full, I can’t take it anymore…” You inhale as if you're feeling it right now and smile. “Like all the stars have fallen to one place and are shining too brightly.”

There's a moment of quiet before Steve speaks, his voice soft, like making a wish.

“I wish I’d found you sooner. I wish… I could’ve spent all the years I’ve been here with you.”

“This is perfect.” You kiss him with a smile, gentle and devoted.

“Everything is perfect.”

He smiles and kisses you back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his touch filled with tenderness and love. But as the kiss deepens, Steve feels like he's burning.

Everything about you is a vortex of sensations: his mind fuzzy, your warm body in his arms, your hair smelling of white roses, your sweet breath, your lips, and your tongue. He pulls you closer, one hand sliding down to rest on your hip, rougher than before, his lips moving more insistently. He doesn’t want to stop; he needs to feel more of you.

“If you’re not stopping…” He hesitates. “I don’t think I can …”

“I don’t want you to.” You sit on his lap, holding him close, fingers in his hair, whispering.

Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his voice a little rougher than usual, his gaze locked onto you like a lifeline.

“Are you sure?”

“…Steve…” Your voice is almost a plea. “Please don’t make me beg…”

And that does it.

Steve lets your request override any other thought. His tongue explores your mouth, hungrily claiming it as his own. One hand grips your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His mind is a mess, tangled with desire and excitement, everything around him melting away except for you. He leans into you more, guiding you back until your hips hit the nearest wall, pinning you there.

“Where's the bed?” he whispers in your ear. You stretch out your arm and point in the right direction.

“Hold on tight.” He smiles as he carries you to the room at the back and can’t help but awe when he arrives.

“Oh, so it was true. It has an amazing view.” He admires the floor-to-ceiling window with the garden in full bloom outside, bathed in a violet and blue sunset.

You laugh between the pillows. “Would you mind… saving that for later?”

Steve chuckles as he comes back to your lips and your arms: “I’m sorry…” his fingers follows the line of your body, pressing one in your waist and the other interlocking with yours: “I promise nothing will distract me from you now…”

He was feeling the surge of his powers – everything was enhanced: the scent of you on the bed sheets, the shivers running through your skin at his touch, the way your hair brushed against him, and the intoxicating sound of your voice…his body was reacting accordingly, and it was impossible to hold back.

Especially when you kicked off your clothes and he could feel the whole of you: your skin silky and warm, the jasmine scent from your bath lingering. He was utterly lost in lust.

He feels his heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands guiding you with slow, deliberate movements, trying to hold onto some control despite the intensity of his desire.

He interlocks your hand with his, while the other holds your face. He can’t look away from your gaze as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, sparking a wildfire of need within him. He whispers your name against your lips, his voice thick with hunger and longing.

“I don’t think I can’t hold back any longer…”

You gasp, drowning in a whirlwind of emotion: “Please don’t hold back…anything...” And you feel him to complete you, his fingers entwined with yours, murmuring something before sealing you with a kiss.

The moment he was in you was overwhelming, but you wouldn't recall the pain.

You were filled with sensations, having his lips in your ears, the fierce pressure of his fingers interlaced with yours, his body as close to yours as it could possibly be. Every centimeter of your being was united with his, melting into his warmth.

You felt him everywhere. In the intense gaze he held as he moved in a pace to match your pleasure, in his low moans and groans,in the droplets of sweat falling from his body onto yours, in his shivers and trembling, in the way he pressed his hand in your waist and marked every movement as he was lost in lust.

“God…”

Oh no, Steve was not lost, he was drunk in a haze of pleasure and need.

He had this urge of possession, hunger of dominance, mixed with the overwhelming and insatiable need of you.

He looks at you. Your watery eyes glistening with pleasure and desire, your moaning lips, red and swollen, naked body covered by a thin sweat and marks he left in your collarbone, in your shoulders and breasts, you dig your fingers into his skin, the sounds of your moans filling his ears and driving him even wilder.

“Please don’t stop…”

God that begging tone of yours, he just can’t take it, he needs more.

“Steve…” You whispered again, your hands cupping his face. His breath mingled with yours as he leaned in closer: “please…don't stop…”

Steve moaned, his brain short-circuiting momentarily at your words, the sound of your voice begging it drives him wild with need and desire.

He tightens his grip on your hips, his movements becoming rougher and rougher as you beg for him and you are lost in his fastened paces, and he knows you are close, the moans that’re leaving your lips driving him mad.

“Babe you are driving me insane…” He can't hold back his low growl as you whisper in his ear, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he pushes you harder, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he gives you what you ask for, pulling you closer and closer, and he can’t help to moan as he looks at you reaching your climax: “Yeah baby that’s it…I got you…”

You gave in as he kissed you and the bed knocked so hard against the wall, Steve’s senses are coming to an edge too as you finally reach the limit, your moan is the most perfect and most pleasing thing he’s ever heard.

He murmurs your name on the verge of losing control, so you press your whole body to him as helping to be there, Steve’s mind suddenly goes blank as the pleasure takes over, every sense, every nerve ending consumed by ecstasy.

He cums long and warm inside you, and that alone makes you feel you could come all over again.

His words strangled groans of pleasure. He looks down at you, completely at your mercy, eyes hazy, filled with pure, unadulterated ecstasy as he tries to speak, but you seal his words with a deep kiss.

“That was…” His breaths came in hard and fast: “That felt…”

“Complete.” You finish the sentence for him.

Complete. He used the right word. That’s how you felt.

He laughs and falls on top of you, cupping your face and kissing your chin, removing stands of sweaty hair from your face.

His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, his body still quivering from the intensity of the orgasm.

" I... I've never experienced anything like that…You were incredible…You're incredible…"

You were panting too. But you were also reacting over his kisses.

Oh damn, Dr. Lin’s felix felicis worked just fine.

“So…um…” You couldn’t catch your breath: “You do have…Saturdays off, right? Does…the Avengers get that? Weekends?”

“What?” He was already laughing when you asked, but still nodded: “Yeah I have time…”

“And…how fast does your serum work? Do you need to like…some hours to recover?”

“What?” Steve can't help but let out a laugh at your question. You marvelous, adorable, perfect girl. You are the woman of his dreams.

He leans in to kiss you. Yes, complete. That’s definitely the word. He had never felt this way with anyone before, but when he was with you, everything seemed to align, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both to this moment, to this connection. He felt like a lost star in the universe finally finding its way home.

“Hours?” He kisses your neck and starts to go down: “babe…you might be a genius...but I really need to show you how this serum works for me…hours? Please don’t underestimate me…”

His hands starting to caress your body, cupping your breasts and leaving a trace of kisses, feeling you reacting at the same time that he was getting hard again, still inside of you.

You let out a soft, deep moan, your body responding instantly to his touch, your eyes lost in lust again.

“Steve…”

He loves that begging moan, he was so ready to hear it again. And he was going to make you to do that all night long.

“The night is young.” He positions his hands in your waist, holding you tight, as he presses himself again inside of you, harder than the first time, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks: “And I’m glad for it.”

“Dr. Lin? um…Robert?” You knocked your colleague’s lab door on Monday, with a gift basket and a bottle of wine.

“Heeeeyyyy…” He was so happy to see you, Dr. Lin just turned around from his chair with a curious smirk: “Soooo? How was it? The mysterious date? I can tell you are satisfied…” he was practically singing.

“Well…” You blushed slightly.

The “date” has lasted the entire weekend.

For the first time in your life, you were thankful for the body Hydra had given you, enough to endure and enjoy a weekend of endless lovemaking.

You think you lost count of your orgasms by Saturday afternoon. But then of course, Sunday was also off, even for the Avengers. So you carried on.

“Ahem…!” You cleared your throat, offering him the basket with the wine. “I’m just saying the Felix Felicis worked... as expected, even with just a drop.”

“Oh.” Robert's expression shifted. “Oh my gawd, I’m going to hell for this... Honey?”

He patted your hand as he took off his glasses. “There’s no such thing as Felix Felicis…”

“What?”

“Yeah I lied…It was just a joke.” He made a ‘Sorry, not sorry’ face: “It was just perfumed alcohol.”

“Oh.” You were surprised. “Um... still... that’s just...”

Wonderful. You couldn’t help but smile, handing him the basket anyway.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Lin— I mean, Robert. Really, thank you.”

“Ohhh…you’re blushing,” Dr. Lin winks at you. “You look like someone who just discovered the meaning of life.” By going out of that lab and finally having human contact, and not dying there like a potus, he thinks to himself.

You grinned. “Maybe I did.”

“Well, whatever it was, keep that glow. It’s contagious,” he said with a wink before turning around and continuing his work.

“I’ll try my best.” You nodded, smiled at him, and headed back to your lab. You were in the hallway when you received a message from Steve.

“Miss you already,” with a heart emoji.

You sighed and smiled.

Maybe it wasn’t Felix Felicis, but magic did exist—and it was real every time Steve looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.

End but TBD

Continue to:

4: Nightmare |

5: Awakening |

6: Dusk |

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Yay! That's a wrap on Chapter 3! ❤️ Thank you for reading so far. I apologize if my English isn't perfect; it's not my first (or even second) language.

I hope I got through the intensity and love that was intended. (At least at their first time, should be more about making love than fucking? If that makes sense...?)

Anyway, don't know where to place the timeline, but definitely is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive, aaaand the fact that John is here with Steve in the same place, makes it more interesting :3 (I just love writing jelous Steve)

Hope you liked it! Every feedback is highly appreciated <3

Love.,

Moon.

P.S: Chapter names are all related to dream states ;) I'm posting something every friday :) So see you next friday!!!

#captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x female reader #smut #steve rogers smut

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unluckilyimnot · 6 months ago

Note

Hiii!! I loooooveee your blog so much!! Every time I see your notifications, I get like SUPER HAPPY!! It really makes my day!! AND SOMEHOW I DIDN'T SEE THAT YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN?? Could you do the types of dates kurona, otoya, and karasu from bluelock would go to? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Date with kurona, otoya, karasu, isagi, rin

m.list | rules

Note: Hiiiii omg your message make me so happy thank you sm 🤍 I hope it's what you expected

Kurona

He would loves outside date

Things like aquarium and parks, which is chill but you can still have fun and take great pictures

He changes his lockscreen all the time

He's kinda shy with pda but if you take his hand while walking around the aquarium he would love it a lot

He can stay a lot of time around jellyfish, the color it captivating

He can be loud around bigger animals like sharks or tortoises

Absolutely wants a matching keychain with both your favorite animals

He's most likely to play around if you're in places like parks so he would initiate contacts more

But he also like to take a plaid and lay down with you while toi read or just make fun about people around you

He would never be mean but likes to play along

Tag with along with some ice cream or a very fresh drink and you have a perfect date for him

Otoya

He tries to impress you even if you're already dating lmao

Would try to teach you how go skate

So you can fall into his arms or cling onto him

It's a good excuse to touch you outside

But he would really love to do it with you so he takes it seriously, don't worry

He would feel bad if you get hurt tho

He wouldn't say it out loud but you notice how super serious he'd become

He has a good sense of style so he would like to go shopping as well !

Window shopping is something he really likes

Add a coffee to the equation and he's the happiest!

Really to hear you talk about style and how you could style a piece with what you already have

Karasu

On the other hand, karasu knows he has nothing to prove

So he'll be chill about date

Don't get it wrong: he will plain it on every part and regularly (if not all the time)

And he wants to win your heart over and over again

But he also know that you love him and that staying inside with a movie only is enough

Yet he prefers to make it better like baking while watching a Disney movie!

Bonus point if you make something from the movie

Or while watching an old sitcom

Be prepared to have flour on your nose and for him to kiss it away

Rin

Football date, tell me he wouldn't

He takes you with him to see the matches of his favorite team

Or just with a pizza (for once) at home

He probably prefers date at home in fact

Even if he's not against it if you want so to something outside

Horror movie marathon

This is a routine, you have one every week, that's his cheating moment of the week

He stays up late, eat junk-food with you and don't get up early next morning

He loves it so much to be honest

His arm is around you all the time, pulling you against him if you're scared

He can also hide his face in your hair if needed

Bonus point if you fell asleep in his arms

Isagi

He would love taking a walk around the town and go see museum or important location

Like he read something about a place and he wanted to go check with you !

If you like historical places as well he's in heaven

I swear he falls in love again I'd you know some things and tell him as a cute funfair about the place

The type to find cute coffee shop that are not crown or trending

So be prepared ! He wants to try them all

And if you're a coffee or tea lover he simply needs to hear how you feel about it

His insta feed is mostly you on date and some pictures of the place (along with football)

I hope you liked it !

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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omg i hope all goes well with your kidneys!!! sending well-wishes 😭💗

as for miguel thirsts: mentions of dubcon, noncon, edging, overstimulation, abnormal uses of webbing, fangs, and venom, vague kidnapping reference(?)

1) him going after an anomaly! darling, and instead of doing the usual ‘catch and release’ back to their original world, he just .. keeps them at hq. initially it’s just for observation, but over time he just gets closer and closer (“for research!” he tells himself), and one day, he finds himself moving their cell into his monitor room (“for observation!” he tells himself). so far, he’s been able to keep the fact that he jerks himself off to their presence quiet. he just doesn’t know how long it’ll take for him to want more.

2) i’m also thinking of some kinda predator/prey dynamic where there’s a chase scene where it does end up with him tackling darling down to the ground (he does put his hand around their head so they aren’t concussed when their body hits the ground <з). he accidentally does the knee thing and then just rolls with it, and that’s what kickstarts the fucking. is very much so like “why are you squirming?” while Very Much Knowing what he’s doing.

(he does probably put his fangs around their neck at some point just bc i think that’s super hot of him to do.)

^ also may i please add - edging while you’re paralyzed where he does the whole “i’m not hearing you say please” and is just edging for hours on end, or the same concept but with dubcon overstimulation, “i’m not hearing you say stop” while giving you the nth orgasm of the night and tears roll down your cheeks.)

3) the third thirst of him that’s been bouncing around my head like a horny version of the window’s screensaver is essentially the noncon hate-fucking version of #2; you’re fighting about something ultimately unimportant, and at some point it transitions from just slinging words to each other to physical fighting [yes he does chokeslam you against a wall a la train scene] and now you’ve got nowhere to run (maybe somehow webbing got involved and you’re stuck to the wall, essentially at his mercy)

tw - spiderverse spoilers, non///con, imprisonment, obsessive behavior.

sjkfdsjsdkfdklfj combining all of these in my head for a scenario wherein miguel captures an anomaly who, while not dangerous enough to be locked away indefinitely, isn't the kind of upstanding citizen who'd be sent home immediately. you don't manage to hurt him, but you waste enough of his time to earn a second glance every time he passes your holographic cell, a nearly imperceptible half-smirk every time he gets a chance to push your name just a little further down their ever-growing list. eventually, after some 'if you like the new anomaly so much why don't you marry them'-esque probing from lyla, your containment chamber is moved into his personal lab, and y'know, exposure breeds familiarity, familiarity breeds affection, and affection for someone like miguel breeds obsession, whether or not you see him as anything but the creepy, cyber-punk spiderman who likes to leer outside of your cell for a few minutes every day.

so, when there's a minute-long power outage and you get a chance to put as much distance as you can between you and the man that doesn't know you've seen him palming himself through his suit outside your cell when he thought you were asleep, you take it. of course, miguel's on you in a second and of course, it only takes him a few minutes to chase you into the unpopulated sub-levels of his spider society, to dig his teeth into your neck and leave you paralyzed but very awake and very aware that you're at his mercy. it was a mistake to get his adrenaline going, to spark his aggression then try to smother it before he's really had a chance to burn. you should be thankful that he uses his webbing to bind your hands rather than breaking your wrists, that he only wraps your fist around your neck rather than crushing your windpipe underneath his heel, that he chooses to edge you on until you're begging him to fuck you as roughly as he's been dying to for weeks. when he's done, you don't get taken back to his lab, but to his claustrophobic apartment, and you aren't put back into a cell, but into a collar - to stop you from glitching without letting you so much as hope that you'll ever be able to leave his dimension.

without letting you hope you'll ever be able to leave him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader

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undressrehearsal · 3 months ago

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right back where we started

summary: ellie is on tour as the opener for a popular band. she begrudgingly passes through the hometown that she had sworn she would never see again and runs into the one good thing she left behind.

tags: some sad stuff, ellie has daddy issues, mentions of alcohol, modern au, not rockstar ellie but that same kinda genre???, no smut in this one sorry this is all setting the scene, this is another shorter one 3.6k words

a/n: listen. I'm gonna level with yall. life's been fucking insane. it's been what 3 months since I posted something?? and it's because 1. my fiancée and I are buying a house 2. and planning a wedding 3. I work 45 hour weeks (at a job I hate so much omg) 4. I'm writing a book and 5. I'm preparing for a p major surgery (I go on tuesday)

so yeah, life's been insane. but I missed writing fics. I'm writing my book so I never stopped writing but writing a lil fun fic just hits different yk?

anyway enjoy and look forward to a few (I'm thinking 3?) parts of this

love yall. reply and lmk if you wanna be added to my tag list. also I'm posting this on my phone so the formatting might be fucked lmk

part 1

Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she had been in this city.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could remember exactly the last time she had been in this city. She had watched it disappear in her mirror when she had driven her bike west three years ago in search of the horizon. She had hoped she would find something more once she got there - more than the dingy dorm room she had loosely called home and the classes that had made her eyes glaze over; something more than playing at the bar’s open mic nights, her guitar hard to hear over the noisy din of drunk students and drunker professors; something more than a future that had been planned for her by the time she was in high school.

Her dad had kicked her out after she dropped out, of course, but that was fine. She had planned to leave that night anyway; she had kept a packed bag hidden underneath her bed for months. She hadn’t seen him in three years, either, and she planned to keep it that way.

But when she woke up and saw the city outside the bus window, silhouetted against the rising sun, something in her chest rose to her throat and refused to be swallowed back down.

She hadn’t missed it - but as she looked down at her shaking hands, Ellie figured her body must not have gotten that memo.

The band she was traveling with were still sleeping; she could hear the singer snoring in her bunk, could see the bassist's leg sticking out into the aisle. She had never been a morning bird - back at her shitbox apartment, you'd rarely catch her up before noon - but something about being stuck on a bus for days made her restless. It was her first time touring - after three years of playing at open mics and taking small jobs singing at the senior center - and she wasn't used to feeling her own bed constantly shifting beneath her.

Which is how she always ended up pacing the length of the bus, tapping her fingers against her thighs as the confined world around her slept, waiting desperately for the driver to pull off to whatever venue they had booked. She wasn't sure what the band did before their shows in the evenings, but she didn't stick around long enough to ask. Maybe it was rude, but she couldn't force herself to hang out with the band who only chose her because their usual opener had “flaked” on them - which was how they described it when the opener couldn't travel with them for several months after their mother had just died.

So, yeah, Ellie couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad about it when she rushed off the bus as soon as it parked, not even sticking around to let the band know where she was going. They wouldn't care either way. Hell, they were probably so hungover they wouldn't wake up until their show started in several hours.

The driver - his name was Zachary (never Zach) and he was the only one who paid her any mind - helped Ellie hoist her bike down from the rack on the back of the bus. The band had teased her about bringing it, bitching about how it showed she didn't want to hang out with them. She had been tempted to tell them they were right, but she couldn't really risk losing the first real gig she’d gotten. She lifted the seat and dug her helmet out, waving to Zachary as he disappeared back into the bus to get his own well-deserved rest.

The purr of the bike was a familiar comfort beneath her. Lowering the visor of her helmet to block out the sun, she squinted at the streets sprawled before her. She realized, with dizzying familiarity, that she was in the next neighborhood over from her old apartment. Hell, she had watched a few shows at the venue she was playing at - something in her stomach clenched.

Fuck, she needed coffee.

With the wind cold against her bare arms, Ellie let the world fly by, the city waking up around her. Her phone remained snuggly in her bag; she didn't need directions here, the familiar streets leading her down well-worn paths, winding all the way back to a life that was no longer hers.

It was muscle memory that led her back to the coffee shop she had frequented as a student. She looked up at it, a glow around its worn brick from the rising sun, and something tightened in her chest. They had replaced the patio chairs - the old ones had been practically falling apart three years ago - but otherwise it hadn't changed.

Ellie cursed under her breath, swallowing around the foreign lump in her throat, and climbed off her bike. When she took the steps two at a time, it felt like somebody else had taken the wheel. It was a familiar stranger that opened the door.

The smell hit her first. They say that scent has the strongest tie to memory, and the smell of burnt coffee beans hit her like a punch. There had always been a sweetness underneath it, something she had never been able to place but thought might be honey? When she stepped up to the counter, she could even smell the milk they were steaming.

The barista - a young girl with faded pink hair tied up into space buns - looked up from her phone and said, in a voice teetering on the edge between cheerful and bored, “How’s it going?”

Ellie took her in briefly, noting the brown corduroy overalls and the star-shaped nose ring, and was comforted knowing that this place was just as queer as she had left it. She would bet money on the fact that if she peeked over the counter, this girl would be wearing beat up Docs. She was young enough to be a student - probably an English major, if she had to guess.

She always ordered the same thing - iced mocha with oat milk. She had never understood why her dad drank his coffee black.

The barista - her tag said Dianna She/Her/Hers - eyed her as she rang Ellie up, brows quirked. When she smiled, dimples caved her cheeks. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you a student?”

Ellie fought the urge to groan - this girl was just trying to be friendly (and was probably trying to decide if Ellie’s flannel meant she was gay or was just a bad fashion choice), but the last thing she wanted to do after failing to sleep on a bus and waking up at the ass-crack of dawn was to make small talk.

Still, she smiled and said, “I used to be.”

She paid and stuffed the remainder of her cash into the tip jar. When Dianna thanked her, her cheeks were as pink as her hair. Ellie could feel her eyes lingering on her as she walked away, nodding awkwardly in thanks.

This place really hadn’t changed in three years. The coffee shop had a reputation of students writing all along the walls - over a decade ago, they had simply stopped trying to paint over it, so the walls were littered in signatures and drawings and claims of call this number for a good time. Scattered poetry was written along the edges of the windows, an incredibly detailed Sharpie drawing of a cat peeking over the top of the doorway. When she searched for it, she found that her own scrawled handwriting was still there, small letters where nobody would think to look, right underneath the thermostat: Find me where the sun sets east. Don’t forget me.

She swallowed the lump that threatened to choke her and stepped away. Her eyes stung from sleep deprivation and nothing more.

Ellie scanned the room and found that, to her annoyance, nearly every table was taken. Students huddled around notebooks and laptops, engrossed in their work or else on Netflix to avoid studying. Professors blinked wearily, clutching their own cups of coffee as though they were lifelines holding them to this realm. Ellie could see the spot she had frequented herself - a booth tucked by the window, where she could write her songs in a dingy notebook without anyone looking over her shoulder.

Now, there was a guy with his cheek pressed to the cold surface, snoring lightly.

Ellie jumped when Dianna called her name, holding out a cup so filled with coffee that it trickled over the side and down the glass. Ellie took it gingerly, holding it in careful fingers to not spill any more on the countertop.

Dianna held onto the cup for several seconds longer than necessary, her fingers - cold from the glass - lingering on Ellie's. When a crooked smile pulled at her lips, her brown eyes sparkled. There was a teasing tilt to her voice when she said, “I hope to see you around, Ellie.”

Ellie gave her what she hoped was a friendly smile - judging by the way Dianna’s cheeks bloomed pink, she must have succeeded - before turning away. She almost felt guilty for the relief she felt when she found there was no phone number left on her glass this time. She was never sure whether it was nicer to ghost somebody or to send a gentle rejection through text, and she did not have the energy for that decision.

She turned, searching for an empty seat to slouch in and try not to fall asleep into her coffee, when her eyes found you.

You hadn’t changed a bit.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true either. You had changed - anybody would in three years. You had changed your hair, and now you dressed differently than she remembered - you used to bitch so much about how you couldn’t dress how you wanted, and now, looking at you three years later, she was happy to see that you were finally dressing like all those pictures you had saved in your little Pinterest folder of “outfit inspo.”

Ellie could see the mark of three whole years, but truthfully, you hadn’t changed. You were slouched over a laptop, leaning way too close to the screen, and you still had that pinch between your brows when you concentrated, the one that she used to run her thumb over; she could still feel how soft your skin was beneath her fingers.

She should have ignored you - she should have gone to slump in a corner of the coffee shop like she had planned, trying not to fall asleep into her cup and pretending to not notice you even as her eyes kept cutting across the cafe to find you again. She should have pushed the memories away just like she had pushed away all of the other memories associated with this city - hell, she should have never come back to this city in the first place. There were too many memories here that she had spent three years, a thousand miles, and an ocean of whiskey running away from.

And yet Ellie found her feet carrying her over to your table of their own volition. She walked the tightrope between who she is and who she once was, chasing a memory of the only good thing she left behind.

You didn’t look up at her as she approached. You kept your head bowed over your laptop, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. There was no reason for you to look up - Ellie could have been any nameless stranger coming to bother you when you were clearly just trying to work.

But Ellie had never been good at leaving well enough alone. Which is why she hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and tapping lightly on your shoulder. She had to bite back a laugh when you jumped, pulling your headphones from your ears and swiveling around to look up at her.

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t do an embarrassing acrobatic jump when you met her eyes. And she had always been a terrible liar.

“Hey,” Ellie said, trying her damnedest to keep her voice steady; she only somewhat succeeded. She cleared her throat, lowering her voice when she said, “Remember me?”

Satisfaction bloomed warm in her stomach when your eyes widened, taking in the sight of her. Truthfully, she must’ve looked like shit; she had had to take a disturbingly brief shower at the last rest stop - the water apparently didn’t get any warmer than antarctic - and she hadn’t looked in a mirror for a few days. She had forgotten to pack her brush, so her hair must have been standing up at odd angles. And God knew what the lack of sleep was doing to the ever-growing shadows under her eyes.

But none of this stopped you from running your eyes down her body, cheeks pink when you finally looked up to meet her eyes again. And Ellie couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across her face, her own cheeks growing warm. It wasn’t intentional when her voice dropped another octave, nearly a murmur when she said, mostly to herself, “Yeah, you remember me.”

“Holy shit, Ellie?” You jumped to your feet, a smile pulling at your lips as you gripped her arm. The familiar shine in your eyes did something funny to her stomach that she was way too stubborn to name. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was just, uh- just passing through town,” she found herself saying, rubbing at the back of her neck. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but explaining to you the actual reason she finally came back to this hell-hole town suddenly seemed daunting. “Wanted to check out some old haunts, I guess.”

And then you just… looked at her, for several long moments - long enough to make Ellie squirm. Your eyes bore into hers, searching for something that she had buried three years ago.

You jumped, and whatever spell that was floating between you broke when your phone buzzed from where it still sat on the table. You scooped it up and flashed an apologetic smile to the glaring student a few seats away. Swiping at the screen, you cursed under your breath:

“Fuck, I have to get to class.” You looked back up at her again, a question behind your eyes, and Ellie had never wished so hard that she could read minds. You hesitated for only a moment before saying, words rushed, “Do you want to walk with me?” Before Ellie could respond, you continued, picking up your cup and fiddling with the straw, “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you and I want to catch up. But you’re probably busy, so you don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” she cut you off, trying to smother the smile that pulled at her pink cheeks. She failed drastically when you smiled back at her.

After asking for a to-go cup from Dianna - thankfully no number written on the plastic cup either, despite the way the barista eyed Ellie as she left - she followed you out the door and back into the blinding morning sun. The mid-October air bit at her cheeks, creeping under her flannel; the cold coffee in her hand made her fingers sting, but you were already walking away, so she grit her teeth and followed.

And it was like you both just fell back into place, aligning with each other as though that empty space had never existed. You were working towards your graduate degree, Ellie discovered, and were working as a TA to get through; the class you were heading to was the dreaded public speaking class that you taught around your own curriculum. You laughed as you talked about some ridiculous speech a student had recently presented, and Ellie had forgotten just how much she liked the sound until it was burying behind her ribs again.

Ellie didn't tell you exactly why she had come back. When she’d left, you had known she was chasing a dream - it was the main reason she had presented when she broke up with you. The idea of long distance was too hard - too complicated - and Ellie didn’t want anything tying her to this town.

Even so, her body still wanted to fall into old habits. She told you about her roommate and how, when Ellie had been up too late writing a new song or her roommate had had a late shift at the hospital, they would play truth or dare until they were too drunk to stay awake, and her fingers brushed against yours, muscle memory making her reach for you. Ellie told you how she had visited her sister, Sarah, while passing through Houston, and she wanted so badly to lace your fingers together. She wanted to wrap her arm around your waist - hell, she even wanted to grab your ass right where everyone could see, just like she used to. She tucked her free hand in her pocket.

“You still haven’t told me why you came back,” you said, coming to a stop in front of the Communications building - it was just as tall and ominous as Ellie remembered. Her stomach lurched at the site, remembering all the speeches she had to make in her own classes. She supposed Public Speaking wasn’t a useless class now, considering she didn't stutter when she had to speak in front of an audience now.

Ellie shrugged, dropping her cup into a trashcan without looking at you. “Like I said, I’m just passing through-”

“Bullshit,” you said, but there was no malice behind it. You tilted your head to meet her eyes and smiled at her, even as your eyes held something unreadable. “The Ellie I knew couldn’t wait to get out of this shithole - her words, not mine. She wouldn’t simply pass through - she would go out of her way to stay in the next town over. So,” you crossed your arms, “what changed?”

Before, if you had ever crossed your arms at her, Ellie would reach out and gently pull your arms away from your chest, pulling you into an embrace. She wanted nothing more than to pull you into her, instinct unaware of the three years and a thousand miles that had separated you. Instead, she leaned against the wall of the building, the brick biting into her back. “Nothing’s changed. Trust me, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be here.”

For only a second, your face twisted into something unreadable that pulled at Ellie's stomach. But you quickly schooled your expression, tilting your head, your smile soft. “Listen, I have to go - if I'm too late, these fuckers are just gonna try to skip. But we should meet up later - I want to catch up.” When Ellie opened her mouth to say you had been catching up, you continued, “Really catch up. I want you to tell me everything - it's been years, so we have a lot to cover.” You looked at your phone and cursed. “Look, my last class ends at 3:25. Meet me on the green after?” For good measure, you stuck out your bottom lip and added, “Please?”

Ellie had never been good at resisting that look - she had given into you so many times from that look alone. She had to bite back the sudden, stupid smile pulling at her cheeks, so she pressed her lips together and looked away. After three years, you still made her cheeks flush without trying.

“Okay,” was all she could say.

Without warning, you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around her neck briefly. Her hands hovered at your sides, unsure of where to go. Feeling your body pressed against her again - feeling the warm brush of your breath against her neck - short-circuited her brain, leaving her gasping on dry land.

Before she could figure out where to put her fucking hands, you murmured in her ear, “I really did miss you, Els,” and pulled away, just as quickly as you had come. Ellie's mouth hadn't even caught up to her brain by the time you were gone, the door closing softly behind you.

Later, after she had had a proper breakfast from McDonald's, she was still thinking about you. Seeing you again had opened up a bottle that she had sealed away, and the cork wouldn't fit back into it. Her fingers itched with the memory of your skin beneath them. When you had hugged her, she had smelled the shampoo that you apparently still used, and she remembered how it had felt to have your head on her chest, breathing you in as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. And your lips next to her ear - that opened a whole subcategory of memories that she tried desperately to push away.

She was only here for the night. She lost count of how many times she had to remind herself.

Ellie was stopped at a red light, leaning her bike from one foot to the other, when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced at the blinking crosswalk sign - twenty seconds, so she still had plenty of time before the light turned green - before fishing her phone out. She had to squint against the sun, straining to make out the screen. She nearly dropped the phone when she saw the familiar name popping up on her screen, fumbling to open the text.

There was a screenshot of an Instagram post from the venue she was going to play at. The band's name was in bold letters, stars pasted around a grainy picture of the group. And in small letters underneath - like an afterthought - was her name: Ellie Miller.

And underneath, in all caps:

YOU'RE PLAYING AT THE HAWTHORNE?????

Her face flushed all over again. After all these years, you had still kept her number.

tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie tlou2 #ellie the last of us 2 #ellie miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #ill have to add this to my masterlist when i get back to my computer in a few days

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mygnolia · 4 months ago

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get better! | 6. join stream 4 special guest

SMAU! synopsis -› in which your neighbor and popular twitch streamer park sunghoon breaks his arm, so he switches to vlog style content that matches up with yours! now everyone’s curious why 1) you have a cute boy in your apartment, 2) sunghoon’s not on his grind anymore, and 3) when are you two going to date!?

[1.9K WC] To be neighbors in the same apartment complex is a blessing- especially when all of your friends are across town. When you knock on Sunghoon’s door, it’s followed by a loud sound akin to a crash (is sunghoon okay???), before Sunghoon opens the door running a hand through his hair, feeling nervous.

“Hi.” He chokes out. “Come in.” You glance at his cast to make sure he’s okay, and despite his tweet from earlier where he took it off, it looks fine.

“Hi..? You..okay?” and the boy in question gives you a tight lipped smile. Was he…nervous?

You take in his apartment- it’s minimalistic in the best way, with succulents on the windows and polaroids of him and his friends hanging near the TV. While much of the furniture is white, it looks clean, and you’re glad that Sunghoon really does take care of his space. Twitch must pay him well (or used to) to have an apartment this nice.

He ushers you to his gaming room, where you see his extensive set-up. With monitors, cameras, headphones, and a glowing keyboard, you’re enamored by the way he’s gotten everything set-up all without his wires being tangled.

“I’m live- but I’m muted.” He starts, and his camera records him saying something, but the live audience on the other side is curious as to who he’s talking to since you were out of frame.

“Wait, I need a chair, right?” And it makes Sunghoon pause his one handed typing on the keyboard, mumbling a quiet ‘oh,’ before he stands back up.

“Here. Sit.” Sunghoon pushes you slightly to the gaming chair before your can protest, his movement awkward and robotic as he makes you sit down. The thought of Sunghoon being as nervous as you makes you smile, before you remember who you’re in front of.

‘IS THAT HIS GF’ ‘omg with yn rent free’ ‘YNNN I LOVE UR VIDS’ ‘bro they’re LITERALLY DATING’

When your eyes scan the messages, you call for Sunghoon to come back, who’s barely passed the door. “Let me unmute and introduce myself.” You suggest. And the streamer finds his palm becoming even more sweaty as he clicks a few buttons to turn the mic on. You watch him intently, and send him a warm smile as your thanks.

“Hi guys.” you wave at the camera before giving him the green light to get the chair that you need.

‘omg she’s so pretty’ ‘who is this wtf’ ‘where’s hoon lol’ ‘HIII YNNNNN’

A smile makes it’s way on your face with the last message. “My name is ____, and Sunghoon’s invited me over. Did he say anything to you guys?”

‘stream is called join live 4 special guest’ ‘nooo he never said anything’ ‘are you two tgt or what’

“We’re not together.” You confirm with a nervous smile, afraid of what would happen if his diehard fans found out about his relationship. “He’s just here to teach me bedwars.” The chat gets even faster- if it’s even possible. Questions and theories about your friendship with Sunghoon continue to pop up. “But don’t leave!” You say after you see some disinterest. “You guys should totally learn with me. Is there anyone who also doesn’t know how to play? Just..” You try to find the right words. “Think of Sunghoon as like, your boyfriend who’s teaching you bedwars.”

‘are he the one you keep tweeting about’ ‘YN IS HERE WOAHH’ ‘no yn you’re the gf he’s teaching’ ’so endgame couple!!’

The scraping of the chair as your neighbor tries to bring it in with one hand is funny to listen to outside of the door, and you giggle when you hear him curse, leaning out of frame to see if he’s okay or if he needs help.

“I heard that.” Sunghoon says when he’s in your range of vision, and it catches on the mic. With the way his viewers see your face light up now that he’s here, they automatically assume you two really have something going on. You’re only relieved to have him take over, no longer having to see some of the negative messages that fly by. At least on YouTube, you could ignore it all. Here? it’s all live, and you see it all.

Sunghoon sets up the chair and makes sure you’re comfortable before assuming his spot.

“What’s up bae-bees?” And you fight yet another smile at that stupid name. “This is Y/N. Makes vlog content but I think my gameplay is much more fun to watch. And by the way, check out our Q n A on her channel.” He glances over to you, and now that you’re properly able to look at him, you see the makeup that he had on for the photoshoot; and you can’t just not admit that Sunghoon is cute with his blush across the nose and freckles. You saw the after photoshoot post from him, too.

‘wait so dating rumors..???’ ‘DATING OR SIBLINGS’

“Are you two dating? Absolutely not.” He sends you a teasing grin, one that makes you swat at his shoulder with an indignant look- yeah, you’re not beating these dating allegations.

“Wow, you hate me? We spend like, 7 hours together the other day, and then you texted me saying you were outside- I thought we were friends!” And Sunghoon feels a flood of panic pass through him. Yes- he knows exactly what you mean. But his chat? his friends? Everyone who has just heard you speak? They have zero idea without context.

You’re not use to phrasing things as a streamer, and in an effort to calm his faster than light chat, Sunghoon stammers, “Yeah, we were cleaning so much of your new place. And those texts were all jokes- I’d never do that to a friend.”

Nodding in agreement without understanding the commotion you’ve caused, you try to read more of the chat.

‘pick me’ ‘ur too cute for her’ ‘she’s so cringe’

When Sunghoon sees the same things you do, his expression hardens, suddenly feeling upset. He was worried that this would happen. “Just because ____ isn’t in the gaming space or a streamer doesn’t mean you guys have the right to be mean to her. She puts in just as much effort into her videos and marketing her channel as much as I do for my gameplays. Please be nice, or I won’t be as willing to do special streams in the future.”

With appreciation, you pat his wrist, which is out of frame. You’re not really sure how to defend yourself against such baseless accusations, and considering Sunghoon’s not even your boyfriend, they have a reason to be so much more toxic and rude towards you without him defending you the way a boyfriend would.

“Maybe I should leave-“ You whisper to only him, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Sunghoon shakes his head. “No, let me return the favor- plus, you wanted to learn bedwars. I’ll teach you the ropes.” His reassuring words make you feel more inclined to stay, not feeling as negative and embarrassed as before. He returns his attention to the chat after uncovering his mic, seeing some of his friends have seen the special title for today’s stream and joined.

“Hi Riki, Hee, Jay. Where’s Jake?” You peer over to see their verified badges with special colors appear, and Sunghoon reads their comments out loud. “Okay- enough of that. I’ll be teaching her how to play, now, so I might not be checking chat. As always, please be nice, and seeing as all my friends are in chat, there are even more mods available to ban you guys.” His voice is stern, but you can tell how much Sunghoon hates being mean to his fans.

simjake: ‘hi y/n please kick his ass so he’ll stfu.’

Sunghoon catches he quicker than you do, reading it with widened eyes. “Please kick his ass so he’ll shut the fuck up? Dude, If we’re on fortnite tonight, you’re last choice for squads.”

“But you can’t even play, Sunghoon.” You point out, and he frowns- trying his best to pretend that a kid on a bike wasn’t the whole reason he’s going bankrupt.

“I’m learning how to use it with the cast.”

“Don’t doctors tell you to literally not use it so it heals faster?” And he shrugs. Sunghoon’s arm really isn’t healing anytime soon, even if he swears it is.

“Well- anyways.” He uses his good arm to pull up the running tab for Minecraft, his avatar already in an empty lobby for you to practice. “Y/N is going to learn bedwars!”

Your face falls, and you look over to Sunghoon in horror. “I thought we were going to learn first. Without the stream.

He shakes his head with a half shrug, and moves his mouse around to make sure it’s still working like how he needs it to. “I think chat will find it funny to watch.”

You straighten up with determination and tell him to scoot over so you can place your hands on and familiarize yourself with the keyboard.

“Try the spacebar,” Sunghoon says with pride, and you laugh at how nerdy it sounds coming from him. After clicking the key a few times, and experimentally typing in the MInecraft chat, he begins to explain how to play, and you do your best to listen to him as he instructs you. “You know how to play, yes?” And your slight experience whenever you come to play on Sunoo’s set-up comes in handy for basic things like managing the game controls.

His 20k viewers all noticed a few things that neither of you picked up- both too engrossed in learning how to bridge without falling off, but also trying to fight and defend from other players.

They noticed how you liked to poke fun at Sunghoon sometimes- similar to your Youtube video where you’d make small but funny digs, and Sunghoon would go along with it. Everyone noticed how he was gently reassuring you with a hand on your shoulder or his fingers intertwining with yours when you stood up in frustration to pull it back to the mouse. Sunghoon here wasn’t the same flirty streamer who read his chat, called people his wife, or yelled at his friends (all in good fun!) when they lost match point; he was doting, and calm, with eye-crinkling smiles and praises everytime you bridged enough blocks to the other side. And after a bit more than an hour, you became tired of falling off the cliff from dynamite, or running out of golden apples to eat when you were running away- all to Sunghoon’s amusement.

You bid farewell to his chat, who all had fun watching you get excited while playing. For the gamers who watched Sunghoon’s channel, you le gameplay and reactions reminded them of the excitement it felt to play for the first time, and the problems they used to encounter trying to get better.

Sunghoon returns, with his chin resting on his good hand was he lazily reads chat. “He’s so in love.” He reads, scoffing. “Absolutely not, me and her are just friends. I’d do it for anyone.”

‘he’s so whipped’ simjake: ‘simphoon’ ‘someone get this man a gf’ heeonmic: ‘SIMPHOON BYEEE’

For the rest of his live, Sunghoon practices playing, blaming you offhandedly for cursing his keyboard and it was the reason why he was doing so bad. “Stop bothering ____ with us dating. Honestly she probably doesn’t even want a boyfriend.”

And how he was wrong.

prev. | ml. | next.

REN SAYS... i am my own writer. yes, i included sunghoon's selfie with biceps even though technically it wasn't needed because my brain needs it to be canon...

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cry4mina · 6 months ago

Text

Take Me Back to Eden - Part 6 - Vore

(Mina x fem!reader) (Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Take Me Back to Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1

Take Me Back to Eden - Granite - Part 2

Take Me Back to Eden - Aqua Regia - Part 3

Take Me Back to Eden - Ascensionism - Part 4

Take Me Back to Eden - The Apparition - Part 5

Take Me Back to Eden - The Apparition - Part 5.5

Word Count: 11.4k

Fluff/Smut/Angst

Summary: Reader and Mina seem to be getting closer with each other and Nayeon doesn't seem to like that too much.

TW: Cute fluffy shit, Sex, abusive themes, violence, weapons. (Kinda want this one to be a little bit of a surprise, so if you would like a list of detailed trigger warnings, please DM me! <3)

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has requested more of this story, it really makes me so happy to know you all enjoy it! I also hit 300 followers! OMG THANK YOU ALL<3 Thank you for following and keeping up with my silly little stories and yapping with me! I appreciate every single one of you!<3 Thanks to the moots for keeping me sane will I wrote this cuz I was having a TIME. Anyways, love you mean it<3 Feedback always welcome and I hope you have a great day! ~*virtual forehead kiss*~

Sirens ring out as they approach your building, flashing lights almost blinding as they whip into the parking lot. Mina has you wrapped in a blanket, holding you closely and using her body as a shield from the outside world. Attempting to keep you calm as the officers walk to the door, checking the situation out and getting a feel for what was happening.

Mina takes your face lightly into her hands, one placed on each cheek trying to get your attention, seeing the lack of presence in your eyes, she takes control of the situation. Unsure of what Nayeon was capable of. You were honestly scared of her and whatever was coming next.

“Hey…” softly stated, bringing you back to her soft brown eyes as she let out a small smile.

“I’m going to go and let them know what happened here, okay?” Tilting her head as she looks into you, trying to gauge how present you were for her. The state of shock is blatantly on your face as you look over to the broken window and see the police officers pointing something out on the ground to each other.

“Hey…hey, look at me.” Delicately bringing your attention back to her, hands still present on your face as she continues. “I will be right back, okay?”

Hands reaching up to grab Mina’s forearms rigidly before she takes her first step towards the door, fear rings through your heart knowing that Nayeon knew exactly where you lived.

“I know…don’t worry, we will figure this out, okay?” calmly reassuring you before she speaks with the officers about what took place. They’re definitely going to want to talk to you before they leave but you find yourself slightly rocking back and forth on the couch, attempting to self regulate as all of this chaos is happening around you.

Time stood still as you thought about how Nayeon would have known where you and Mina were. She knows where Mina lives, of course, but how did she know where your new apartment was? Could she have followed you?

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks when your brain connected the dots; you never shut your location for her off. Getting up with a sense of urgency to grab your phone, you immediately sit back down. Quickly scrolling through the contacts to find Nayeon and turning the location off. Noticing that hers was still on and that she was pulling into the apartment complex you used to share.

“That fucking bitch” said loudly enough for Mina to hear, side eyeing you while continuing to speak to the officer. The uniform, noticing that you were in distress on the couch, points over to you saying something to Mina as she nods her head and starts to walk over to you.

Squatting down in front of you, maneuvering herself so she could meet your gaze as she rests one hand on your knee, lightly grips your hand with the other. Slowly focusing your eyes as she comes into view, a petite grin forms on her face again.

“Hey honey, they want to ask you some questions now…are you up for that?” searching for hints of discomfort as she inquires on what you’re comfortable with, lightly running her hand up to your thigh.

“I-…” peering up at her as she continues to rub your thigh, causing you to turn a special shade of red, you settle for just nodding your head yes instead of stumbling over your words.

A gummy smile returned to you, sitting next to you before nodding her head to the officer across the room. He walks over to you, looks you up and down before asking the normal questions you would expect.

“Did you see who did this?” Husked in a southern accent, pen and notepad in his hands as he looks over the rim of his glasses down at you.

“No, I didn’t” shakiness present in your voice.

Mina notices this and skims her hand on your upper back, body facing you with her legs crossed. Studying your body language as you continue speaking to the officer, giving you a sense of safety.

“This ex-girlfriend of yours, has she had anger issues in the past?” Voice scratching against your memory as you plummet into dread trying to remember any tense moments you might’ve had with Nayeon before she betrayed you in the foulest of ways.

“Sir, we spent 3 years together and she was cheating on me the entire time, I just found out about it a month ago so to be fully transparent, I don’t know who she is…and I sure as hell don’t know what she’s capable of.” Leg bouncing as your voice emits dismay and fragility, arms enclosing your own body in an act of protection and defense.

“Does she know where you live?” Concern coating his voice throwing hot coals into your ears as you try to keep from grieving in front of this stranger in your new home, and Mina.

“Yes.” Faintly leaves your mouth as you look down at your lap,scratching the sides of your fingers, avoiding eye contact with anyone around you as you start to shut down.

“Did you tell her where you live?” now obviously frustrated by the answer given.

Mina's eyes snapped up to him as she stood defensively in front of you, “don’t take that tone with her, she obviously wouldn’t tell her where she lived.”

“She had my location on her phone. We did that years ago…I forgot until this. It’s off now.” Emotions absent from your voice as your eyes start to unfocus under the stress and implications of intentionality from the officer.

“Do you have her address? We'd like to speak to her.” Officer now taking things a little more seriously. Mina, realizing you aren’t present, takes over the conversation and gives him the address of your old apartment.

The sound of her saying your old address rings in your ears. The happiness that used to live there, no longer present. Thinking about what happened in that place makes your stomach churn, boiling through the lining as it rips from her mouth. Eyes brimming with the falsity of the emotions you felt so deeply in those walls. They are now stained in the blood from the knife Nayeon slid across your throat.

Mina is too sacred to know the location of that cold hell you lived in, unknowingly sitting in the iced flames as life burned down around you, freezing your warmth and removing it from your body. A soul crushing, earth shattering ache exists where the frost bite gnawed the hole through your chest.

The officer walks out of your apartment and informs the other two cops of the details he just received. They shake their heads and nod as the officer you just spoke to points and waves with his hands, seemingly creating a plan when he gets in his car with his partner and speeding off, leaving one of them there to speak with you of what the evidence found.

“There are footprints under the window to the living room, unfortunately they’re not clear enough to take an impression. There doesn't seem to be any handprints or fingerprints on anything, so we will update you with any new information we find. We are going to have an officer in their squad car outside for the night, should anything suspicious happen, we will handle it.”

“Thank you.” Mina politely says while the officer walks away, still handling things for you while you’re in emotional paralysis and completely checked out.

This was a brand new feeling for you, something very strange seeped into your pores, distorting your sense of reality. Appendages made of stone as you stilled, descending into the void of your psyche.

Hazy thoughts coated in fear rise into your mind’s eye. A tornado of grief, guilt, and fear rotate around in absolute madness causing the earth to quake within your skin. Arm hair raising at the action of your home being violated by an unwelcome energy, another betrayal from someone once so close to you, now simply a stranger in your heart.

Mina watched as your eyes unfocused, the way your shoulders rose, arms crossing your chest as your body withdrew inward. She promptly started attempting to remove the stressors one by one.

“Do you have any boxes? And some tape? Packing tape or duct tape preferred” walking to the kitchen, avoiding the glass, to sift through the recycling. You cling to her every movement as she pulls out a flat piece of cardboard, cuts it to size, and lays it over the window to cover the shattered hole.

“Y/n?…do you have any tape?” patiently waiting for you to hear her, knowing how overwhelming this situation must be, especially after what happened at the restaurant. She was learning how to show up for you, but somehow she already knew the best ways to do so.

“Oh! Uhm, sorry…” running to the junk drawer, almost robotic in your movements and absentmindedly forgetting about the glass on the floor. You step right into it without even noticing. So dissociated that it doesn’t even phase you, continuing what you set out to do and trialing a small bloody pattern along the way.

Pull the drawer open.

Grab the tape.

Hand tape to Mina.

Wait for further instruction.

Listing the steps as your brain gave you orders, autopiloting its way through the tasks given, completely separating logic and emotion.

A troubled look on her face as she quickly fastened the cardboard. Disbelief washes over her for a split second. Standing in front of you who just stepped on a very visible pile of broken glass with no wince, sense of pain, or idea of what you just did.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” a dash of panic present in her tone, eye searching for clues to where it could be.

Another instruction.

First aid kit.

Cabinet under the sink.

Almost like setting coordinates, your muscular system takes the data and converts the math into movements. Taking a step towards the sink when a cold hand grabs your upper arm tightly.

Malfunction.

Short circuit.

Cannot complete assigned task.

“Wait, wait, wait” firm grip keeps you still, hardware unable to comprehend the sudden stop.

“You stay here, I’ll go get it. Where is it?” sternly stated as she steps in front of you, now waiting for your directions.

Pointing to the cabinet under the sink, she rushes to grab the plastic container full of supplies out, setting them on the island in the kitchen.

“Up here,” patting the counter. Hoisting yourself up to sit, she pulls your sock off gently and assesses the injury you inadvertently caused yourself.

“This doesn’t look too bad,” grabbing the tweezers and pulling the glass out of the sole onto a piece of gauze, double checking to make sure she got it all. Mina disinfects the wound while you giggle at the coldness and texture of the alcohol soaked towelette.

“Are you ticklish?” mischievous look in her eyes after learning the new information not knowing that this level of care was bringing you back to a state of cognisense.

“I might be.” A smile returned as she refocuses herself on placing the gauze on your foot and wrapping it gently and meticulously.

“There…should be good, but stay put for a moment” ordered back to you as she finds your broom in the pantry and sweeps up the sharp slabs of glass. The sound of the glass scraping against the tile echoes through the kitchen, the clatter of the dust pan on the floor wakes you up a little more from your numbing haze.

Mina throws the shatter reminisce of the window away and quickly reaches for the cleaner under the sink and a paper towel, carefully wiping the blood off the floor, making sure she doesn’t miss a single splotch before bringing her attention back to you.

“Thank you, Dr. Myoui…for the house visit, are all your patients lucky enough to receive this kind of care from you?” Bashfully smirking in her direction, acknowledging that this was more than a bandage and some cleaning.

“Dr. Myoui is my father, Y/n.” Playfully biting back, fighting a grin before leering at the floor to make sure the hazard was taken care of, then being sure to put everything back where it belonged as she tidied up the kitchen.

She looks up at you with honeyed eyes, fixing her waist between your knees, placing her hands around your waist. Your bodies pressed together, resting your heads on each other's shoulders, relaxing into her and just enjoying the calmness after the storm.

“Hey, Mina…” almost silent in volume, hesitating to make your request.

“Would you…stay with me tonight?” muttered into her hair, your back unclenching in her touch.

Mina pulls away, reaching up, lifting your chin with her pointer finger to encourage eye contact again. She’s made of literal magic when she does this. Your stomach cages every butterfly you’ve ever witnessed at her touch.

Mina’s finger is still under your chin as she kisses you gently. Admiring your features before giving you the answer that you already knew you had.

“Of course I’ll stay with you”

—

The bedroom is dark and cold, rain lightly tapping on the window adding to the relaxing state you find yourself in. Absorbing the safety Mina seems to bring with her everywhere she goes.

Even in one of your old oversized shirts that was so long on her- it was mid thigh, and barefaced, she’s effervescent and elegant as ever.

Laying in bed next to her was a surreal feeling. It felt so natural for her to hold you, both arms wrapped around you, running her fingers down your arm as you rested your head on her chest.

“Y/n?…are you awake?” Lightly spoken into the shadows of the room.

“Yeah…I’m so comfortable but I can’t seem to keep my eyes closed for longer than a minute” mumbled back.

“Can I ask you what that dream you had was about?” curiously flows as her hand runs up your back.

“It was a nightmare. I couldn’t talk or scream or anything. My teeth fell out. Nayeon’s face melted off and she threw me off a cliff into the ocean by my neck…you were there too but you were…glowing? I don’t really know what it means” vulnerability dripping off your jowls as you continue on.

“It was definitely overwhelming…especially with the police and stuff after.” Twisting her shirt in between your fingers, listening to her even heartbeat pace quicken against your ear while you fidget with the cloth..

“I did like what happened in between the dream and the window though…that was nice, but a little unexpected.” Chuckling to yourself.

“Can I be honest?” Mina says hesitantly with a smile, the contradiction of her actions and words confusing, her heartbeat raising again. It’s almost pounding out of her chest as she tells you the whole truth.

“I…have actually had a crush on you since I met you. I always thought you were so kind and loving, and I mean look at you, you’re stunning. I feel lucky to even have spent any amount of time with you.”

Astonished at what Mina has just said, you lift your head up to look her in the eyes.

“Really?”

“I mean yeah…you’re great.” meaningfully spoken with a hint of nervousness, her heart pounding against her skin as she confesses the yearning she’s experienced surrounding you.

“I feel like this is all happening so fast but…I don’t want it to stop…I don’t think I’ve ever felt this safe before.” you comfortably say without any fear or doubt.

“It doesn’t have to, as long as you’re comfortable…I know there’s a lot happening right now so if you’d rather take it slow, we can do that. I’m patient…and I don’t want to rush into anything that you aren’t ready for.” a small sense of panic rushes over Mina, you can taste it in her words.

“Or if you don’t want to…be anything but friends, we can do that too. I just…really like being around you and the time we spent together today, even with all the craz-'' cutting her off with a passionate kiss, running your fingers up her sculpted abs, other hand firmly placed on her neck, leaning into the moment. Your body finds comfort in her touch.

One passionate kiss, turns into two and slowly dances into where you left off on the couch earlier in the night. Shirts flying across the room, this time with no bras to unclasp, tongues dancing effortlessly and in sync like Mina was always the one this was supposed to happen with.

Both of you in only underwear, heavily making out. Hands create maps on each other's bodies, exploring the new territory. Mina breaks the kiss, trailing her lips down your neck to your breasts.

“You can leave marks,” you huff between stimuli as she lightly digs her teeth into your chest. A small whine leaves your lips triggering her to look up at you, eyes half lidded with a lazy smirk.

“Not this time, baby.” between the small feathery bites as she takes one of your nipples in her mouth, softly pinch the other one, eliciting more airy gasps. Your hips start to grind against nothing under Mina’s touch, completely losing yourself in it.

Her right hand chases the rocking of your hips, playing with the elastic band hugging your skin. Hooking a long delicate finger into it and stretching it up, mouth still swirling on your chest in tandem.

“Can I…?” playfully snapping the band against your skin, sighing into the sting it brought with it.

“Please” sheerly leaves your lips. She wastes no time, swiftly removing the blockade of fabric from your body, taking in the sight of you lifting your hips for her desperately to feel some form of contact.

“Are you really this excited for me?” whispered into your skin, side eyeing the glistening of your upper thighs and the damp spot already forming on the sheets underneath you. You are too ready and willing to even reply.

“Look at how wet you are…did she make you wet like this too or is this all for me?” swiping her fingers upwards from your entrance to your clit. Her eyes are blown out with lust, basking in the sounds you’re making and how you’re twitching at the minimal touch she gave you.

A string of your slick connects the two of you as she pulls her hand away, giving her fingers one lick and humming at the taste of you before taking her place between your legs, caressing up your thighs with her lips, placing open mouthed kisses that leave you attempting to rut into her.

Feeling her hot breath against you makes you drip. Scooting closer to her, hips first, aching for her in a way that was unfamiliar. The sense of neediness you had for her was unmatched.

No one has ever made you want it more than Myoui Mina.

Wrapping her arms behind your thighs, holding you in place, and sweetly kisses from your hip bones down to your core.

Slowly sweeping her tongue from your entrance to your clit in the same pattern her finger did. Eyes darkening as she starts to tease with different rhythms and patterns, not allowing you to build your arousal too quickly underneath her.

“Tell me, baby, how badly do you want this?” cooed into you. She starts to form a regular beat of dragging her tongue across your clit.

“I need you so b-bad, -ungh, right there- ” unaware of what you were even saying. A devious smirk creeps over your naked body, Mina’s lips not leaving your clit as she builds on the pleasure you were feeling, teasing your entrance with the tip of her finger.

Carefully sliding a finger into you and curling up, continuing the pattern that causes you to twitch underneath her touch, moaning into the shadows of the room loudly for her to hear. You’re sure the neighbors would know her name by the end of this.

Her dainty frame covering your legs, looking effortlessly elegant in the mess created. She slowly picks up the speed of her fingers and tongue. Complete ecstasy rising within you while your mind focuses on the pure pleasure Mina is giving to you.

“Mina…I’m gonna -right there right there, fuck-“ ripping from your chest as she sweetly pulls the orgasm from your body. Letting you ride it out in her hands, watching as you buck your hips down on her fingers while making sure not to waste a single drop of you.

“Wow, so desperate for me…couldn’t keep still, huh?” Teasingly with a devilish smirk as she reaches up to lay her lips on yours. Your own taste floods your mouth, tongues re-familiarizing themselves. The way she melts into you is unmatched.

Mina breaks the kiss and brings her hand to place it around your neck, squeezing softly just to see your reaction. Moaning for her and halfway chasing her lips again, she chuckles and sighs.

“Don’t worry, we will have time to explore that together too…you’ve had a hard day, honey, maybe it’s time to get some rest?” laying next to you and draping her arms around you so she can hold you close. Tracing patterns on your back and weaving your legs between hers, drifting in and out of sleep. Mina draws little hearts on your back as if they’re little notes of encouragement to drift off.

—

Stirring in your sleep, the sound of a phone vibrating on the nightstand wakes you. Flipping over to readjust, trying to fall back asleep when you hear Mina breath in sharply and stretch.

A slap on the nightstand, she grabs her phone, half grumbling as she stands and saunters out of the room to answer it.

“Hello?” Sleepily spoken, you smile at how cute she is.

“What?!” The shock laced word spills into the empty living room while you fade in and out of sleep, trying to fight your eyes so you can hear the rest of the conversation or maybe get a hint as to what was going on, but you failed miserably, slipping off into the dreamscape once more.

—

“Y/n…wake up, my love” whispered to you from mere inches away. Your eyes flutter open, looking next to you seeing the morning sun casting its beautiful rays onto Mina’s face. She brings her finger up your cheekbone and moves a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

Radiant as ever laying next to you, sheets covering up to her hips, exposing the rest of her body, your breath hitching at the sight. She studies your face diligently, taking in every inch of detail of you.

Grumpiness is apparent in your face, frowning at how far away she is from you. You scoot into her chest, closing your eyes again, and nuzzling into her. The skin on skin contact causes a flurry of giggles to erupt out of that same chest you found comfort in.

“You’re too cute like this,” softly running her fingers through your hair. You slowly wake in her arms smiling at the pure hearted person. She peppers your face with kisses to wake you up a little faster even though it just makes you want to stay in bed with her all day.

“I heard your phone ring earlier and part of the conversation you had…is everything okay?” concerned tone in your sleep drenched voice.You open your eyes to see her affectionate gaze outlining your naked body.

Unable to help yourself, the world fades around her. Laying in your bed, holding you, the safe and calm you feel is unmatched to anything you’ve ever experienced. Even with all the stressors that were gnawing at you, none of it mattered when you were here. With her. With Mina.

“Well….it was the police.” calmness in her voice not matching the anger brewing in her eyes as she continues to take in your curvature.

“They arrested someone in correlation to what happened last night…and I wasn’t ready for who…” conflict in her eyes, something was bothering her and you wanted to make sure you were fully present for what she was about to say.

Sitting up in anticipation of the news, her eye contact is absent. She toys with the sheet anxiously, your hand reaching out to still hers. She peers up at you through her bangs, trying her best to focus on your face and not your chest.

“They arrested Jihyo.” gulping in worry of how you’d take the news.

“…Jihyo?! There’s no way…” confusion blinds you for a moment, unwilling to accept this as true.

“She confessed, apparently.” rolling her eyes, knowing she’d never do that willingly. Jihyo was wrapped around Nayeon’s finger, ready to do whatever she needed, no matter the cost.

“Did they even questi-” interrupted by the sound of your own phone vibrating. Both glancing down at the sound before you pick up off the bed to see it’s an unknown number.

Flipping the phone around to show Mina, both of you confused. You answer it on speaker phone.

“…hello?”

“Hey baby, mind if I stop by?”

Immediately tense at the voice crackling through the speaker. Mina is visibly irritated at Nayeon’s word choice, glaring at the phone while crossing her arms.

“Uhm…Don’t call me that and I’d actually prefer for you to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh come on babe, don’t be like that. It’s not like you weren’t violently fucking my face two days ago.” Nayeon coyly says in the tone she always used to try and seduce you.

“If you show up here, I’ll call the police again.” anger threads your voice. Nayeon almost moans over it.

“Babeeee, you know I love it when you’re mad. Maybe you should come take it out on m-” hanging up and tossing your phone back on the bed, repulsed at what just happened.

You turn bright red and avoid Mina’s eyes, not wanting to see her reaction to what was just spoken in front of her.

“I think I’m going to go take a shower…” softly said, embarrassed at the information Nayeon just threw into the mix.

“You do know that I already know that happened, right?” Mina asserts in an attempt to reassure you.

“Don’t you remember back at the cafe? Nayeon dropped that information in front of Jihyo…the poor girl. Also, the scratch marks on your back aren’t exactly healed. I, of course, didn’t know about the “violent” face fucking” giggling and bringing her hand over her mouth. She’s really teasing you about this right now.

“We also were pretty drunk…” Blushing and fighting a smile back, poking fun at you.

“…I’m thinking maybe I could make some new scratch marks once those heal.” winking at you before grabbing your hand.

“ Anyways, you’re gonna shower? Is it cool if I join or are you not a shared shower kind of person?”

A huge grin plastered across your face. Mina sees how you’re absolutely beaming, returning the same volume of light back to you. Swinging her arms around your waist and kissing you passionately before making your way to the bathroom together.

–

Laying in each other's arms on the couch again, a movie playing in the background, cozy clothes on- the perfect homebody day. Both of you are exhausted and happy to be relaxing with each other.

Mina laying her head in your lap, quietly napping while you play with her hair, tangling it between your fingers as you doze off to the sounds of her deep steady breaths and the comfort movie you put on to drown out the silence.

Her phone suddenly clatters against the table it rested on, waking you both immediately. Mina sighs, stretches, and slides her finger across the screen to answer without moving her head from your legs, poking the speaker button before a soft and sleepy “hello?” escapes her lips.

“Mina! Are you okay? You were supposed to be at the house already! The banquet starts in a few hours!” Momo roars through the phone, concerned as to why the always punctual Mina was suddenly late.

“...is that today?” looking at you with her brows furrowed in confusion, sleep still present in her eyes.

“Uh, yeah! Hello?? You helped plan it!” stunned that Mina had forgotten something so important.

“Shit!” exclaimed in a small panic before she got up immediately and headed to the kitchen, leaving the phone with Momo still connected on the table.

Watching Mina closely, studying her movements, not as fluid and graceful as usual. Mina was pacing trying to organize herself in an almost chaotic way, fumbling to get the things she needed together.

It’s cute to see her like this.

“Momoring!” shouted at the phone to your best friend, knowing it would startle her. The sounds of a scream and her phone falling ring out followed by your hearty belly laughing.

“...Y/n?! I thought you and Mina were supposed to hang out yesterd-...wait…Y/n…did you and Mi-”

“Momo, shut up!” rolls off your tongue, silencing her instantly.

“What is she late to?”

“The banquet auction we set up for Jeongyeon’s birthday…you were invited you know…if you wanted to come…with someone you might be with currently…you total-” hanging up the phone on her and laugh to yourself.

The private charity banquet was put together by the entirety of Twice for Jeongyeon’s birthday. Hosting it for a local animal shelter, they were going to auction off Twice memorabilia and the money would then be donated to help the shelter build a new facility they desperately needed.

The perfect gift for someone who has it all.

It would be nice to get dressed up and go support a good cause for a good friend with a pretty girl. Plus the girls worked hard to make this happen…just because 2 out of 9 were in your shit list, doesn’t mean the rest should be shown up for.

“Hey, Mina!” volume of your voice a smidge louder than normal.

“Yeah?” poking her head around the wall to look at you while you spoke to her.

“I wasn’t going to go to that banquet because I thought it might be a little awkward after everything that happened, but how do you feel about…us going together?” a slight pang of awkward hovers over you, realizing that you were actually asking Mina on a date.

Stepping around the wall and coming closer to you, Mina places her hands lightly on your hips, eyes softening into yours. You fight the urge to look away from her when she pulls you closer to her.

“Are you…asking me on a date?” tilting her head to her right and blinking a few times, a gummy smile warms your stomach.

Nodding your head yes, she’s still silently beaming at you.

“Yes, I’m asking you on a date.” nervously fleeing from your throat. You bite the inside of your cheek and look down to the floor.

Mina rests her body against yours, the closeness forcing you to tilt your head up. The feeling of her on you is so mesmerizing, like a ray of warm sunshine after the chilled rain storm.

The walls you built around yourself after Nayeon shake and crumble underneath the feather light touch and coziness she presented to you. A feeling so pure and ethereal encompassed you so tightly that it was almost horrifying how close you let her get so quickly.

“I would love to have you as my date tonight.” noses brushing against each other, her arms resting on your shoulders before lazily falling around your neck.

Lips meeting gently, a few rapid pecks leaves your mind completely swirling in what reality was to you now. Devastation no longer bleeds through the cracks left by your past. A tenderness blankets the once dark shadows in a brightness that envelopes your entire being.

“Meet me at Momo’s when you’re done getting ready?” spoken faintly into your mouth before giving one last kiss that was more passionate than the few before. Both of you having trouble pulling away from each other, tension so taut that even a piano wire wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure.

“I’ll see you soon.”

—

Settling on black slacks that taper down the legs, a black button down, and a black blazer to wear to the banquet. You were invited before by Jeongyeon herself, you accepted the invitation assuming you’d be going with Nayeon. That was obviously no longer the case.

Momo had tried to convince you to go anyway, despite Nayeon and Jihyo being there and you were very undecided about going. Not wanting to interact with someone you found to be so cruel, you pushed off making the decision until Momo put the idea in your head that you could, in fact, go with someone else.

Standing in front of the mirror, making sure you looked acceptable for the black tie event, you can’t help but dive into your thoughts about how much had actually changed within the last month.

You hadn’t really thought about what life would look like without Nayeon but maybe it wasn’t so bad. The past month had been a whirlwind of many emotions and even through the weight of them, it felt good to see the little parts of you that she had consumed and tried to destroy.

Even in the anxious mindset of being around her again, you were going to show up to this event and have a good time.There would be barriers between the two of you and it was a larger event, so it’s not like you had to be near her. This thought brings you peace.

Walking through the kitchen, throwing your dress shoes on, and grabbing your keys before swinging the door open to see a dolled up Nayeon standing in front of you. It’s almost like she knew exactly what you were going to wear, showing up in a very similar outfit, unintentionally matching with the person you wish to never see again.

Blood runs warm immediately, you roll your eyes before stepping outside and shutting the door behind you. Eye meeting before you brush past her, aiming to get away from her. You start walking to your car when you hear an agitated huff at you.

“Can you just talk to me, please?” perturbation refracts off the early evening sky as it emanates from her mouth at the chill of the air.

“No. Go Away.” matching the temperature of the brisk weather surrounding the confrontation.

Nayeon’s heels clicking on the concrete behind you, trying to match your pace to try and get your attention.

“Y/n, please just listen to what I have to say!” voice cracking as she cries out to you.

Whipping around to face her promptly, causing her to almost crash into you. The closeness makes you cringe in disgust. You can feel her breath on her skin. Struggling to take a very large step back, Nayeon’s hands trying to hold onto your waist trying to keep you near. You’re at your breaking point.

“Nayeon, I am so fucking tired of this! I want you to leave me alone! I don’t want to be with you, I don’t want to talk to you, and I sure as hell do not want you showing up at my apartment!” pointing your key directly at her face in a sign of disrespect, tearing into the pitiful stranger that stood before you.

“ Nothing is there anymore, do you understand?!” irreversible truths spat in the direction of someone who was just a memory in your mind.

Giving your words a second to sink seer into her, Nayeon’s eyes well up. Finally understanding that this was the fatal blow. The end.

You soften at the sight of her tears, knowing that it was probably hard to hear even if it was her actions that caused this division between the two of you.

“After this moment, I never want you to show up unannounced or try to convi-”

“I called you earlier, it wasn’t unannounced!” sneered back at you in a tone you weren’t familiar with. Venomous in nature and sour in flavor.

“And I told you not to come! So why the fuck are you here?!” matching that same irritation she threw at you.

She’s in your face now, screaming at you.

“Because I knew you were lying! AND know who was here…” sharply slices the air, creating an even deeper wound.

“Who even are you?...Where I am and who I am with are not your concern anymore. I’m finally feeling some sense of self for the first time in a long time and you can’t even let me have aunty fucking peace!” clamoring through the sounds of the busy street near the lot where your car was located.

“Just leave me alone, Nayeon…I really just want you to let me live my life without you.” bittersweetly spoken in a sense of calm.

A failed attempt to keep your voice steady haunts you while getting in your car, starting it and driving off to Momo’s house. Leaving Nayeon in the parking lot of your apartment, absolutely speechless and seething.

Pulling into the driveway, you just sit for a second. Needing a minute to gather yourself after that confrontation.

All of the emotions of the last month flood back to you immediately and tears are running down your face without care, stinging in the grief that exhausted you to the point of mental break. Nayeon really wouldn’t leave you alone, she knew where you lived, she knew who you were with, and she threw it all back in your face because she didn’t get what she wanted.

Another layer of betrayal peels off the once rose colored love you had for this person. Seeing her for who she actually was really shook you to your core. Nausea builds in your stomach, an all too familiar feeling as the reminisce of the ache returns full force.

Unable to help yourself, you sob into your shaky hands. All that time, wasted and all the heartbreak suffered just to end up right back at Momo and Dahyun’s house crying, again.

The front door is faintly tugged open and rapidly closed, a shadow on the porch shivering with a cellphone in hand. Your eyes are too hazy and tear filled to even register who it was. Simply hoping they didn’t look in the driveway and find you trying to regulate your breathing in the safety of your car.

Buzzing in your pocket momentarily pulls you out of the fog, reaching for it immediately and glancing down at the lit up screen. A single penguin emoji graced your screen, you answered without even thinking about your state of being.

“Hello?” sniffling into the microphone and blinking rapidly to clear your tears from your field of vision, letting them fall down your cheeks and landing in your lap.

“Y/n?? What’s wrong? Where are you?” panicked immediately.

You can see the shadow by the door growing restless as it paces, head tilted down, arms crossed.

“I’m in Momo’s driveway, I just need a second.” a deep breath through your lips and a shaky exhale makes the shadow by the door stop in their tracks.

“I want to give you the space you need but I do hate that you’re upset. Is there anything I can do for you while you are calming down?” very composed in the face of your stress, your heart flutters at the thought of Mina hugging you through this.

Turning the keys to shut the car off, pulling the handle and swinging the door open, stepping out smoothly. The shadow turns around, you hang up the phone and hastily walk over to it.

Mina sees the look on your face and takes a single step forward, trying not to rush you and overwhelm you, knowing you just asked for space. The closer you get, the more you see the delicate sadness framed in her eyes.

Taking large strides to reach her sooner, she lifts her arms up in anticipation of you falling into them and you did just that. Resting your head on her shoulder, fighting more tears now that you feel safe, you hold her around the waist and as close to you as possible.

Mina just holds you, tracing small soft patterns on the back of your neck, letting you just relax into her. Nuzzling your nose into her neck and inhaling puts your body at ease. Slowly your muscles start to unclench, a sigh of relief leaves you slowly.

Pulling away from her just enough to kiss her, smiling into the lock of your lips. She happily kisses you back before resting her forehead on yours. Wiping the tears from your cheeks with a feather light swipe of her thumb that morphs into her cupping your face.

“What happened, love?” concerned at the state you showed up in, looking into your swollen reddened eyes, searching for the answer to her question.

“Uhm…well, Nayeon showed up to my apartment and wanted to talk to me.”

“And what did she say?” trying to fight the fire that filled her eyes, even if it wasn’t present on her face.

“We honestly argued…She said she knew you were there…and that she wanted me to listen to her…I told her to leave me alone. Then I drove here…She’s never spoken to me like that before.” another sharp sniffle cuts the silence as she processes the information just given to her.

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry you were put in that position.” rubbing small circles on your back.

“I hate that she knows where I live. I wish I would’ve turned my location off. I don’t like that she can just…show up like that.” voice quivering with a hint of rage before Mina proposes an idea.

“Stay with me tonight then.”

“I don’t want to impo-”

“Y/n…” leaning into you once more to connect your lips, passionately tugging on your blazer while your hands roam up to the back of her neck.

Quickly turning into something more than a kiss, her tongue swipes the bottom of your lip and moves in sync with yours for a moment. Mina starts to pull your tucked in shirt out of your slacks, sliding her finger along your stomach to tease you a little when the front door flies open.

“Hey, Mina did you talk wi- OH?” Momo shouts out when she sees the steamy scene happening in front of her. Both you and Mina turn beat red and separate, ears hot in embarrassment about being caught and knowing that Momo is going to make fun of you for it later.

“Sorry to interrupt! Should I go back inside or?” playfully teasing the two of you when Dahyun emerges from the house.

“Are you guys ready? Our car should be here any second…is everything okay?” asked through the awkwardness of the situation, taking note of your untucked shirt and how close you and Mina are to each other, beat red complexion gracing both of you.

“Yes, we are.” Mina reached for your hand to let them know that the two of you were more than what was previously thought. Dahyun and Momo smile at the sight of what’s blooming right in front of them.

“Alright let’s go eat some good ass food and get a new building for that shelter.” Momo raises her hands to cheer as she walks down the driveway towards the SUV that just pulled up.

Dahyun takes a step forward, looking back at you and Mina.

“You know…This,” pointing between the two of you.

“This is cute.” grinning briefly before walking down the driveway.

“Do you want another minute?” Mina asks, squeezing your hand gently.

“No, I’m feeling much calmer now…and yes.”

“Yes?” quizzically repeated back to you.

“Yes, I’ll stay with you tonight.” leaning in to place one last kiss on her perfect lips.

“LET’S GO!” Momo yells from the end of the driveway causing you both to giggle into each other before you walk hand in hand towards the car, now way more excited for what the evening held.

—

Tremendously elegant crystal chandeliers hang from the hand painted ceiling of the venue, a calm murmur of the crowd buzzing in your ears as you step into the mix, still hand in hand with Mina.

Jeongyeon is greeting people as they walk in and thanking them for coming before they walk through the gallery of what was to be auctioned off. Patiently waiting to get signed in, you finally have the opportunity to admire your date.

Makeup naturally laid onto her face, her hair is down and wavy to the middle of her back. Fixating on her lips for a moment, the shape of them now burnt into your brain as it clouds with flashes of that which took place at Momo and Dahyun’s house.

Your eyes slowly make their way down her body to find black satin fabric cascading down her, stopping mid thigh. Eyes tracing back up to her sleeves that cover the middle of her arms with her perfect shoulders bare. The concave of her collarbones almost sends you into a spiral when her head pivots and catches you red handed, gawking over her.

A small step taken towards her, threading your fingers together loosely before taking a purposefully big step forward in line, turning around and facing her as she follows. Fingers rotating to a more comfortable position but never leaving each other's grip.

Mina leans into you, arm placed around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder. A big sigh is expelled from her when you place your cheek on the side of her head.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you how stunning you look tonight.” whispered to her through the low bustling surrounding you as it slowly fades out. She removes her head from your shoulder, keeping a close distance, bringing a hand up to hold your face before laying a small kiss on your lips, smiling immediately at you.

“It’ll be hard for me to keep my hands off of you in this little suit you’re wearing, you look too good. Maybe later I can show you what I mean.” sultry and suggestive in tone.

Mina skims her lips along the underside of your jaw, kissing right below the ear when someone approaches you both, breaking the moment before it could go any farther.

“Uhm…Hi, guys?” Tzuyu is visibly confused at what she’s seeing, looking at the intimate way you are interacting with each other. She visibly shakes the curiosity out of her head as the three of you step forward again, place being next in line.

“Have you guys seen Jihyo? I haven’t seen her or Nayeon tonight. I’m a little worried because she hasn’t texted me back since the day before yesterday.

Oh, shit…Tzuyu doesn’t know…Mina looks up at you to find you flushed pale, brows furrowed and eyes unable to keep still.

“We haven’t seen her yet but if we do, we will definitely let her know you’re looking for her.” gummy smile followed. Not exactly a lie, but not the whole truth.

“Tzu! Mina! Y/n!...Y/n?! I didn’t think you were coming!” exclaimed with her arms up.

Letting go of Mina and throwing your arms around Jeongyeon for a big bear hug. She notices your anxiety immediately but doesn’t draw attention to it.

“Well, I couldn’t miss your birthday! Or this amazing event! Seriously, this is so amazing. I’m so proud of the hard work you all put in.” sweetly said with an elbow to Jeongyeon’s rib.

“Thanks, god why are you so sappy today?” poking back at you, playful as always, confusion in her eyes about your attempt to hide the discomfort you were feeling.

“That means everyone is here except Jihyo. Have you seen her?” Directing her attention to Mina and Tzu for a moment before worry spreads across Jeongyeon’s face when she sees Tzuyu shake her head no.

“I tried to call her earlier but I think her phone is off…I hope she’s alright. This is very unlike her.” Jeongyeon pulls her phone out to look for a sign that Jihyo is okay and you feel completely guilty.

You can’t bring yourself to tell her what you know, not willing to ruin the happiness of tonight with the uncomfortable knowledge that Jihyo is probably still in jail, or at least in severe trouble with the company.

A moment of silence lingers as you all sign in for the auction before stepping into the gallery of what was being auctioned off.

You walk the halls and follow the glass cases set up for viewing. Various outfits from music videos, solo stages, and performances including TV appearances, autographed pictures and other various items scattered throughout.

Having a hard time focusing on these moments in Twice’s history, hating the idea that you knew uncomfortable information that was being sought after. The pit of your stomach deepens, waving in anxiety even though you know who should be where Jihyo was. Where ever she was.

Walking through the big double doors of the grandiose ballroom, many vendors and members of the staff line the floor with tables, animals that are up for adoption, donations booths, and an information center where you can find out how to help other local shelters with their needs.

Heartwarming that they’d go through so much effort to help the community they lived in, it truly was an honor to be a part of this, even with the guilt. It was a sight to see.

Finding your seats at the table you were assigned to, 10 seats around a table that was lavishly set with perfectly shining silverware, white plates contrasting the black napkins adorning them. Your seat is between Momo and Mina, thankfully.

Jeongyeon takes her place on the stage as everyone else falls slowly into their seats. Nayeon walks up to the table with minimal eye contact and waves to everyone. Mina is gripping your leg under the table, knowing how uncomfortable you must feel with her sitting right across from you, especially after the confrontation that took place earlier in the day.

Everyone is silent as Jeongyeon makes her opening speech, thanking everyone for coming to support a good cause and briefly reliving memories about volunteering at the shelter. Mentioning how kind the staff was and how much care was put into loving these animals that didn’t have homes yet. The light dim as she steps to the side for a video to play.

The presentation about the shelter starts by following the early years of the shelter being open, and some of the pets they had saved. Stories about the staff and the volunteers who made the hard days bearable. By the time it was finished, everyone was sniffling and giving a standing ovation.

“Please enjoy the dinner the chefs have prepared for you! The auction will start at 7pm so please have a great time until then!” Jeongyeon exclaims and then claps with the crowd before finding her seat at the table with the awkward silence.

Poking at your food, you have a hard time eating even though it is delicious. Anxiety keeps you from devouring the meal in front of you as the girls talk around you. Mina leans over to you and checks in every now and then, just to make sure you’re okay.

The second time she leans over to you, she is interrupted by a loud, harsh voice.

“I get that we aren’t together but can you stop doing whatever this is, in front of me? Kind of rude, don't you think?” sneered to you and Mina across the table.

“Nayeon, not now.” Momo tries to hush her but she persists.

“You think she can do for you what I did? You think she can be who you need her to be for you?! WE are supposed to be here together, not you and Mina! Mina, of all people!” aggressively throwing her hands as she berates Mina in front of everyone.

The entire table looks at her in disbelief, unable to understand why she is reacting this way and more importantly why she was doing it in public. Tzuyu looks at you and Mina, and then back at Nayeon who is visibly enraged at the sight of you together.

Jeongyeon just stares at her in silence, Dahyun can’t seem to find a comfortable seat in her chair, Chaeyoung and Sana are trying to talk among themselves to avoid the conversation but Sana is staring daggers at Nayeon.

“I bet she doesn’t fuck like I do or do you need another reminder of how I fuck you?” Nayeon is now standing, palms down on the table, and leaning forward suggestively. Everyone around the table looks at her with absolute disgust.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t want to work on thi-”

“ENOUGH!” abruptly leaves your chest. Loud enough to silence the tables around you, jaw clenching in fury. Everyone turns their attention towards you, surprised at the tone you took.

Mina is continuing to eat but places her hand in yours, resting it on your thigh in an act of comfort. She’s politely chewing her food when she looks directly at you, giving you a look that could only be described as “If you don’t, I will.” They need to know.

“Nayeon, why don’t you tell everyone where Jihyo is?” spat at her venomously through a tense demeanor.

“Y/n…I- I don’t know what you mean. H- How should I know? ” stammering now that she has lost control of the conversation.

“Oh, sure you do!... Weren’t you with her last night?” aggressively questioning her, dropping little bombs of knowledge on everyone around you.

“Wait, I thought you were here setting up last night…you said you couldn’t come over because of that…” Tzuyu with a saddened tone speaks up through the words being ping ponged across the table..

Mina is just smiling next to you, watching as everyone is realizing that they had been lied to.

“Y/n, shut the fuck up!” growled at you.

Momo, Dahyun, and Mina start chuckling at the sliver of panic Nayeon was showing, while everyone else just gawks at her for speaking to you the way she was.

“You haven’t told them yet? Actually, here’s a better question…Why does everyone think we split up?” almost taunting her, dangling the question in front of everyone, hoping they would take the bait.

“You never did tell us exactly why you broke up…” Chaeyoung is now fully present for the conversation. Sana looks cross, probably from the way Nayeon spoke about Mina. Her arms covering her chest, waiting for Nayeon to explain herself.

Silence fills the void once more, everyone is staring at Nayeon, waiting for her explanation of what was going on. Panicked in her movements, unable to make eye contact with anyone, she curls into herself. A defense mechanism that you were all too familiar with.

Standing up from your seat, placing your napkin on the table, tucking your chair back underneath and resting your arms on the back of your chair before dropping the truth on all of the members who didn’t know.

“Since you aren’t interested in telling the truth…”

“Y/n, please…we can talk about this later” through clenched teeth, Nayeon tries to get you to stop your sentence in it’s tracks.

“I don’t want to speak to you at all. There is no later.” a bite back against her attempt in control.

“Jihyo isn’t here because of you, you should tell them! After all, don’t you want to claim her since you’ve been sleeping with her behind my back this entire time?”

An audible gasp from everyone who was unaware of the situation, shock covering their faces as Nayeon’s ears heat up and beam red.

“Nayeon, are you fucking serious?” Sana being the first to speak up, completely surprised that her elder would do such a thing.

Your chest tightens as you watch the consequences of her actions come out to smite her down. Feeling overwhelmed that you had to hold her accountable to her closest friends and ruin the perception they had of her.

“Sorry you had to find out this way. “

Swiftly walking away from the situation and fighting your way through the waves of people, shoulder clashing as you make haste away from the strain you put on their relationship.

Having a hard time breathing, the panic creeping in. Ducking off to a side room that wasn’t in use, closing the door behind you and taking a set of massive breaths. Trying to regulate yourself from the excessive cortisol in your body, guilt and dread combine to create the feeling of someone sitting on your ribcage.

In attempts to bring yourself back down to a reasonable level, you take in your surroundings.

The room is average size with bookshelves built into the walls, filled to the brim with colorful leather laced in gold and silver accents. A dark wood desk sits facing the door, paired with a big leather office chair behind it. Two large glass doors on the far wall that part in the middle to a balcony that oversees a beautiful garden.

Deep breath in, exhale.

Repeating yourself over and over again when you hear a soft knock on the door and a silvery voice speaking your name through your own huffing. You’d recognize that tone anywhere.

Leaning over to the side, hand missing the knob once before landing on it, twisting it to let Mina in. She immediately hugs you before you hear the latch click shut. She pulls back to look into your eyes, gripping your upper arms with an empathetic look as she studies your current state.

Realizing that you are having a hard time keeping yourself calm, she goes back to holding you. Her head on your shoulder and hand tracing up your spine to the base of your neck, twirling your hair to give you something else to focus on besides Nayeon’s outburst.

“It’s okay…It’s alright. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay? You are safe here.” cooed to you from your own arms as Mina tries to get you to come back to her from your panic attack. It’s working better than anything else ever did.

Breath slowly going back to normal, you lean into her touch, calming down in Mina’s arms was easy. She made hard things seem so trivial and unimportant. You put your entire face into her neck, she giggles in your ear. The ethereal woman fitting perfectly into you.

“Better?” not willing to let go until the answer was given.

Another deep breath and a nod of your head, she releases you from the hug and starts fixing your blazer and hair, tucking a strand behind your ear before smirking at you. She kisses you quickly.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n. I know that was probably very hard for you to sa-“

The door flies open, knob hitting the wall with a loud crash causing the both of you to jump and swing your heads towards the sound.

Nayeon steps in calmly, using her bag to push the door closed behind her as it bounces back at her, slamming shut. A dent in the wall from where the knob smacked it harshly, chipped paint on the floor at the sheer force used to open it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Can you just leave me alone, Nayeon!? Isn’t this enough for you?!” breaking apart from Mina for a second, scooting in front of her. This wasn’t her argument to have and you weren’t going to let her put herself in the middle anymore than she already had.

“I think it’s funny” Nayeon starts as she paces, “that you two end up here. Together. Was this always your plan, Mina? To steal my girlfriend from me?” lowly spoken towards both of you, malice very present in her demeanor, stepping deeper into the office space.

Your eyes follow her every move, not familiar with this flavor she was expressing. You’ve seen her act many ways but this tone and body language were unfamiliar, setting off alarms in your head that you needed to get you and Mina as far away from her as possible.

“Nayeon, you don’t have a sa-”

“Shut the fuck up, Y/n!” snarled loud enough to feel the vibrations of her voice in your chest.

“Don’t speak to her like that!” Mina shouts, stepping out from behind you to confront Nayeon with you, not allowing you to do this on your own.

“You can’t just manipulate your way out of this, Nayeon.” slithers through Mina’s lips and wraps around Nayeon’s throat.

Nayeon is just smiling calmly. It’s eerie the way she’s silent, almost threatening. She reaches into her bag without taking her eyes off Mina, swiftly pulling something small out of it and pointing it right between your eyes.

Your blood immediately runs cold. Chest tightening, heartbeat felt in every inch of your skin as you stare down the barrel of a 9mm handgun held by someone who seemed very ready to pull the trigger.

Hands fly above your head instinctively, gulping loudly in the face of the muzzle. Sweat beads up on your forehead, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation.

“Nayeon! What the fuck are you doing?!” Mina screamed while taking a step towards her. Nayeon pulls the hammer down, the sound of the bullet loading into the chamber makes every muscle in your back stiffen, cracking your vertebrae under the tension.

“One more step and I’ll shoot, I’m sure you wouldn’t want that. Would you, Mina?” an evil cackle erupts her throat as she continues slowly pacing around the two of you.

You watch her circle like a shark, following her movements as she keeps the gun pointed at your head. Stomach churning, just trying to keep from making sudden movements.

Nayeon sees the terror in your face and winces. Observing her face to look for signs she was actually going to pull the trigger when you see it. Her eyes soften for a moment, hands lightly starting to shake as she breaks.

“Why wouldn’t you come back to me?!” tears are falling down her cheeks now, sniffling through her sentence; the distraught predator circling her fearful prey.

“Why would you choose her?!” Shouted while carelessly pointing the gun at Mina, finger on the trigger with her face contorting into a version of her you did not know.

Mina flinches through Nayeon’s display, jumping every time the firearm is pointed at her. Her hands are visibly shaking as Mina takes a small step back, holding her breath and shutting her eyes.

“Nayeon…maybe you should put the gun down and we can talk about this. There’s no need for something so extreme.” calmly making small movements towards her. She aggressively points the gun back at you.

Her eyes drowning her face in tears, sucking air sharply between her teeth and holding her breath. Rage, despair, and insanity creep out onto her face, slowly dripping in unison her tears.

“If I can’t have you…no one can.” Rapidly swinging the gun and pointing it right at Mina. .

You immediately dive towards Nayeon, the gun goes off before you hit the ground. The window across from you shatters, small shards of glass scatter across the floor underneath you.

A crunch inside her torso causes her to shriek out in agony. You try to wrestle the gun out of her hand, she tugs down roughly on the back of your neck with her free hand, bringing your faces closer together. Manically laughing at you and smiling.

Kubrick stare prominently on her brow as something blunt hits the back of your head, vision blurring her into two. You collapse on top of her and use as much of your weight as you can to keep her pinned to the floor and away from Mina. This falters quickly with your eyes crossing, dizzying you to the point of being unable to focus.

The sting on your scalp is almost unbearable. Liquid warmth oozes out of the wound, pooling quickly and saturating your hair before cascading down and dripping onto Nayeon’s face and the floor around it.

Nayeon pushes you off of her onto your back. The floor temperature cools you, still unable to stand when Nayeon stands up, wincing at every movement, and places one of her heels on your chest, pinning you down as you gasp for air.

Your own blood is seeping through your shirt as the puddle underneath you grows. You’re suddenly tired, so sleepy. Fighting your eyes to stay open through this.

“Don’t worry, baby! I’ll get you all fixed up once I take care of this little problem.” grimly ridiculing her intentions.

“Nayeon, you can’t do this!” Choked out through sobs. Mina looks down at you bleeding on the floor, trying to keep a sense of poise in the face of pure terror.

Nayeon opens her mouth to reply to Mina, you slam your fist into the back of her knee on the leg holding her above you before she can get her words out. She yelps out as her back slams against the floor, wind knocking out of her and the gun sliding out of your sight.

Nayeon screams in agony and rage as she crawls over to you, smearing the blood leaking out from underneath you as she reaches you. Your life force coating her hands,

She straddles your hips, you struggle underneath her too weak to push her off. She cocks her fist back and swings full force at your face, connecting to your jaw. Blood mists out of your mouth as your head is forced to the side. The droplets are audibly hitting the ground as the audible gasp is ripped from you.

Nayeon throws another punch, wrath seeping from her pores as she swings again and again, slamming her hand down on your chest in an act of pure outrage.

She gets up from your lap, knuckles bruised, crazy eyes, and in search of the weapon that was out of sight.

Unable to focus your eyes, lids fluttering, choking on the blood in your mouth. You try to roll over and stand. A swift kick to the gut knocks the wind out of you. The cry stolen from you. The air depleting from your lungs is overshadowed by a combination of crying and laughing.

A gunshot rings out, ringing in your ears blocks out all other sounds. Eyes still trying to gain some form of stability as Nayeon falls to her knees in front of you, clutching her abdomen. Mouth wide open and tears falling, seemingly screaming out in pain when you feel warmth touching your face.

Head lifting to be placed in Mina’s lap, one hand putting pressure on the wound on the back of your head. Her lips are moving as she looks down at you, seemingly mouthing your name as she tries to get you to focus on her. Eyes fighting to stay fixated on her as you fade in and out of consciousness.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, the sounds muffled as your hearing slowly starts to regenerate, still ringing when you hear your name frantically called over the high pitched ring and muted screams.

“Y/n! Y/n! Look at me, it’s going to be okay! We are going to get you ou-”

A loud bang echoes against every fiber of your being, reducing your hearing back to nothing. You strain your eyes as hard as you can to focus on Mina, who is completely frozen. Looking over in a daze to see Nayeon, hand over her wound, slouched in the corner with the smoking gun in her hand pointed at Myoui Mina.

The vibration in your throat tears your vocal chords as you scream out, unable to hear the sheer terror emitting from you as you see the red leaking out of her chest. Mina goes pale, tears spilling rapidly as her breathing picks up.

You try to reach out with the last stitch of energy you have but fail, fading into total and complete darkness.

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