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finelinefae · 3 days

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the final [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n and harry reach the final in the academy slam

word count: 12.2k

contains: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tennis rivals, smut (oral f-receiving, first time for h and yn, size kink, mostly just soft), travel anxiety, brief medical talk

a/n: extremely sorry for the wait but i hope this is worth it. thank you for being here and reading this little series. it means the world and I'm obsessed with all of u <33

this is the final part of the game, read part 3 here

. . .

In any relationship, Y/N had always believed she was the dominant, reliable, independent partner. In all of her friendships, family dynamics and even teamwork, the people around her looked to her for something that sometimes she couldn’t even give. Y/N was constantly pulling pieces of herself apart to give to those around her and at the end of the day she found herself with nothing left for herself. She was constantly burnt out, running on little energy to make it through to the end of the week.

But with Harry, her whole world felt like a sanctuary, a blue sky hidden from everybody else by grey clouds.

When she thought she knew all there was to know about herself, she was learning so much more through her relationship.

She learnt that it was important to share things, that just because Harry could read her face better than most people doesn’t mean he could read her mind. She hadn’t realised how closed off she was about her problems until Harry had found her panicking outside her classroom before an exam. It was that moment when he told her he needed her to communicate these things so he could help her in any way he could.

She learnt to accept that her love language was physical touch. She couldn’t keep her hands off of her boyfriend. No matter what they were doing or where they were standing, she was desperate to touch Harry in some way and he was obsessed with it. He loved how much she wanted him to hold her and how often she’d gravitate towards him to put her hand on his arm or hook their pinkies together. It was probably the reason why her lips were constantly chapped because she was always desperate to kiss him whenever they were near each other. Harry had told her once that our love languages developed from what we didn’t receive so much of as children, which made sense because Y/N couldn’t remember the first or last time her parents had held her.

She learned that arguments were healthy, even when they didn't feel like it in the moment. Just because Harry was her boyfriend and their feelings for each other were strong, they still ended up bickering over little things. It usually happened when one of them was having a bad day; they were both people who felt things very strongly, and sometimes that clashed. But they made a promise that, no matter what they were arguing about, big or small, they'd never go to bed angry with each other.

The biggest lesson Y/N was learning was something that she had yet to come to terms with. Having feelings for somebody was already a new thing for her, especially feelings as strong as the ones she had for Harry. She’d never been so attached to somebody in her whole life. Sometimes when she looked at him she felt like her heart was going to explode from how much it ached to be right by him. Y/N had always believed that she couldn’t feel much more than what she felt already, that this was how good it would get- and she was okay with that. But with every passing day, Y/N found herself floating higher and higher above ground as her heart began to inflate with such an intense emotion. Every morning, she felt like she was levitating right out of bed at the thought of seeing Harry.

It wasn’t until one particular day that she realised she was in love with her boyfriend.

She had woken up before him for once. Harry had always been an early bird, and so was she before him, but she loved staying in bed with him, basking in his warmth as he cradled her to him like he was cocooning her from the rest of the world and keeping her to himself for those brief few hours in the early morning.

She was going to wake him up to get ready for school but she stopped herself. Y/N had seen many versions of Harry her entire life but this was the first time when she looked at him and saw the person who had carved a nook into her heart for himself looking so peaceful and relaxed. She’d never really thought too hard into it before, willing to let herself fall into this relationship and see where she ended up, but that morning when she looked at him - really looked at him- she realised there was only one person in this entire world who could make her feel like she was still dreaming and that was the person she loved.

Of course, she hadn’t told him that. Never. Y/N felt genuine fear at the thought of having to tell him how she felt because everything she had ever truly loved she’d had to either work for or it had never loved her back as much. Surely loving someone as much as she loved Harry couldn’t be this easy.

“Hey,” Sarah beamed, leaning against the lockers as Y/N replaced her books for her next classes.

“Hey,” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced at her shirt, “What are you wearing?”

“Do you like them?” Sarah grinned, proudly.

It was a white t-shirt with a tennis racket and a cut out of Y/N’s head plastered onto a tennis ball. The words ‘Y/N 4 court queen’ were written in red.

“Please tell me you only got one of these?” Y/N begged, feeling embarrassed.

“Well they’re prototypes so there’s only four,” Sarah explained and as she did Mitch walked towards them wearing the exact same shirt.

He put a hand around Sarah’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head before looking at Y/N, “How do you like the shirts? Me and Sarah spent all week designing them?”

“You designed these together? Aren’t you meant to be like horny teenagers or something?” Y/N tried not to laugh at their matching shirts as they stood side by side.

“We can be both,” Mitch shrugs.

“Who else is wearing these?” A throat cleared from behind them and Y/N turned around to find her boyfriend wearing his white school shirt unbuttoned to reveal the same t-shirt underneath.

“Hi baby,” Harry grinned, walking towards her and kissing her lips. Y/N’s hands went to his waist as he pushed her up against the lockers.

“And I thought we were bad,” Mitch said, “C’mon babe, I’ve got a few ideas for some more items we could sell.”

Harry pulled away as Mitch and Sarah walked away. Y/N looked up at him as he loomed over her, he was just so goddamn tall. “Missed you,” He murmured, kissing her quickly.

“You saw me this morning,” Y/N giggled.

“Hmmm,” He hooked his finger around her necklace and pulled her closer, “Do y’ like my shirt?”

Y/N laughed, “I can’t believe you actually wore it.”

“Anything to support my girlfriend,” He winks. She’d never get tired of hearing him call her that. “Did you hear anything about the Academy?”

Y/N shook her head. After winning against Astrid, she was now onto the final where she would play Courtney Avalon the only girl in the competition who had been picked to compete in a Junior Slam at fourteen. Y/N wondered who thought it fair for her to compete but she wouldn’t let it ruin her chances of winning, she’d just train even harder than she already was.

Unlike the previous games, the final wouldn’t be hosted at one of the academies instead it would be hosted elsewhere at a tennis club where professionals would play. There was no way of knowing where they’d be going, it could be in a different country for all they knew, but the final was a little under a month away and she still hadn’t heard anything about it.

“S okay,” Harry knew she was overthinking the situation as he traced his thumb over her pulse the way he always did when she was nervous about something, “We just train the way we always have,”

“Do you think I’ll win?” Y/N asked.

“I know you will,” Harry replied.

That same afternoon, Y/N was sitting in the library after school to finish her English essay on her computer when a notification appeared in her email. Her heartbeat hastened as she clicked on the email with ‘Academy Slam Final Location’ written in big bold letters as the subject headline.

She clicked on it and her eyes flicked through the long-winded introduction before they landed on the location.

Paris, France.

She was going to Paris.

With Harry.

She tried to keep her excitement at bay as she threw all her belongings into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She made a quick exit out of the library and ran towards the parking lot where she knew Harry would be.

Her eyes landed on him and she couldn’t help but laugh before running over to him and leaping into his open arms. “Paris,” She said and his eyes lit up.

“We’re going to Paris?” Harry asked, seeking confirmation.

Y/N nodded, “The same place they play the French Open.”

Realisation dawned on both of their faces as they understood the significance of this moment. Y/N would be playing at the same club where Harry was supposed to play before his injury. She waited to see his reaction, and a small grin formed on his face before he leaned in to kiss her.

“You are going to win this,” He says like a promise.

She nods, the weight of the moment sinking in deeper. The pressure now felt even greater than before, driven by a desire to win not just for herself, but for Harry too.

. . .

Y/N sat on the bonnet of her boyfriend’s Audi with her boyfriend standing between her dangling legs as they made out, “Are you actually going to teach me anything?” Y/N laughed, pushing him away.

Harry pretended to check the invisible watch on his wrist before shrugging, “We have time,” He leaned in to kiss her again but she playfully pushed his face away and slid off the bonnet.

They walked hand in hand to the court where Y/N put her bag down on the ground and pulled out her racket. Her eyes caught sight of Harry taking a bucket of tennis balls out of the storage shed. He looked particularly cosy today in his navy sweater and white shorts he was wearing, his hair was a little dishevelled mainly due to the fact that she had run her fingers through them for the past thirty minutes.

“Okay, so should we do a few drills?” Harry posed the question.

Y/N shook her head, “I wanna try something different today,” Harry frowned as she passed him a racket, “I want to play against you.”

She could tell Harry seemed unsettled as soon as the words left her mouth, “Y/N, you already know about my injury,”

“Just a little back and forth, if it hurts too much we can stop straight away,” She tried, hoping he would say yes.

Harry took one look at his girlfriend, seeing the pleading look on her face. Even though he knew she wasn’t forcing him, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. “Fine, one game.”

Y/N squealed and ran to the end of the court she always played on, getting into position. She watched as Harry rolled his ankles and bounced up and down to get used to the feeling of his feet on the court. He took a tennis ball out of his pocket and bounced it on the ground.

With a playful chuckle, Harry tossed the ball into the air and served. Y/N lunged for it, returning it with a swift swing of her racket. The rally began, and each shot was met with cheers and laughter from them both.

Despite Harry's injury, he moved across the court with surprising agility, his competitive spirit shining through. Y/N knew he was at a disadvantage but still, she was in awe of how quickly he responded to her hits. Every time Harry would run for the ball, she’d find herself distracted by the muscles in his calves and thighs and the concentration on his face when the ball would go to her end of the court.

In the end, Y/N came out on top with one score above Harry’s when they decided on the last round as Harry could tell the pain was beginning to stir in his leg. She walked over to him and put out his hand to shake his, “Great game,”

Harry rolled his eyes, taking her hand and pulling her into him, “You’re too pretty, you distracted me.”

“I’ve heard that one too many times before,” Y/N smirked.

“From who?” Harry frowned.

“Oh just people,” She began to walk away but Harry quickly ran up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around.

“Harry,” Y/N laughed, loudly, both of them ignoring the watchful eyes of passing students leaving school late.

He placed her back down on the ground and she looked up at him again, biting her lip, “Get back to those drills,” He shook his head.

“Yes sir,” She saluted but Harry stilled.

“I didn’t know you were into that,”

“What?” Y/N frowned before realising, “Ew don’t be so gross Harry,” She hit him on the arm and stormed away.

“What else am I supposed to think?” Harry threw his arms up in the air, biting back a laugh. She turned around and threw a tennis ball at him before grabbing another one and doing the same again, “Oh c’mon baby, I can live out your coach/student fantasies if that’s what you're asking,”

“You’re an animal!” She hissed.

Harry laughed and jogged towards her, kissing her quickly and running through their usual training.

. . .

Two weeks had passed until Y/N and Harry were finally on their way to Paris. Mitch and Sarah had dropped them off at the airport in the early hours of the morning with sleep still in their eyes. Y/N would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t nervous about playing without her best friend cheering for her in the stands. But Sarah promised she would watch every second of the live stream from their dorm room and cheer her on from there.

She’d also tried to call and text her parents to tell them she had made it to the final and she’d be going to Paris, inviting them to come along even though she already knew they would decide not to. She hadn’t spoken to them since the dinner and even though she was the happiest she’d ever been, part of her ached, wishing her parents cared enough to see her that way.

Harry stood beside her as they waited in line to board the aeroplane. They had originally booked economy flights but Harry was insistent they upgrade even though the flight was only an hour long.

They were both dressed rather comfortably for the flight. It was Y/N’s first time wearing a piece of his clothing, a brown knitted sweatshirt he offered her to wear this morning. She couldn’t deny the rush of excitement she felt when he tugged it over her head and kissed her forehead, “Pretty,” He said and smiled.

But despite their comfy attire, Y/N couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with Harry’s fingers as they stood in line. She was nervous, biting the inside of her cheek and trying to ignore the sounds of the planes taking off outside. It was her first time flying and even though she was excited about going away to Paris, she hadn’t considered the prospect of flying and how nerve-wracking it would be.

“Harry,” Y/N tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him. He was holding both of their carry-ons, his black bag in his hand and her duffle on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sensing her nerves.

“Will we be okay?” She blushes, feeling embarrassed at her question, “On the plane I mean?”

Harry’s eyes soften, “Of course,” He assures, “It’s the safest way to travel.”

“Okay,” She nods, before saying his name again, “Harry?”

“Yes baby?”

“You promise we’ll be okay?”

He smiles, putting their bags on the floor and taking both of her hands in his. He squeezes her fingers when he feels how cold they are, “Promise, promise.”

“Okay well if you’re lying I’ll probably never speak to you again.”

Harry chuckles, “I mean if I’m lying and the plan crashes then that’s probably true.”

Y/N frowns, “Don’t talk about crashing,”

“What? You bought it up.”

When they finally board the plane, Y/N immediately feels claustrophobic when she realises how small it is, “They’re loading us into a sardine can,” She mutters to herself and hears Harry laugh as he walks in front of her.

They finally reach their seats with Y/N right by the window and Harry in the seat next to her. Harry places their bags under the seats in front and moves to buckle his belt. “Harry?” Y/N says his name again. He glances at her and sees how pale her face is, “I’m really nervous.”

He felt his heart clench, it wasn’t often that Y/N admitted to feeling nervous or afraid of something. Hearing the shake in her voice made him consider getting off the plane and taking her back home again.

“Hey,” Harry cupped the side of her cheek, “Y’ got nothing to be afraid of sweet girl, everything’s gonna be fine. Might feel a little strange when the plane takes off but we’re safe and I’m right here with you.”

“I don’t know about this Harry,” Her eyes dart around and he knows she’s getting into a panic the more she thinks about it too much.

“Y/N,” Harry says her name gently, “Look at me baby,” His thumb rubs the skin under her eye and her eyes dart to him, “Can you feel this?” He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and moves her hand to wrap around his own wrist until the pads of her fingers find his pulse.

Y/N nods, her eyes glistening, “Can you feel that?” He hopes the feel of his pulse will calm her down, “That’s it, just breathe and calm down everything’s gonna be fine.”

“It’s going to be fine,” She echoes his words as though trying to inscribe them into her own mind.

“M right here,” He comforts her, “You think I’d let anything happen to you after I just got you?”

Y/N smiles at that, “No,” She whispers, “You’re too stubborn.”

Harry grins, “Only when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s nerves were overwhelming as the plane began to move. She glanced out the window, watching the ground blur as they gained speed. Harry noticed her unease and reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“What the fuck!” Y/N blurted when the plane lifted off the ground, loud enough for everyone to hear, “This is so not normal.”

Harry snorted a laugh, “Y’ doing just fine baby,” He rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand.

Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as the plane tilted, a whimper escaping past her lips when she took one peek out the window to see the clouds in the sky. “Isn’t it pretty?” Harry asked, ignoring how tightly she was squeezing his fingers until the point of turning blue.

“It’s a lot prettier with my feet on the ground,” Y/N responds, refusing to relax until the plane landed.

. . .

Y/N was in awe as they stood in the hotel lobby of the hotel they would be staying in for the next week or so. Harry had insisted he be in charge of choosing where they were staying as he had been to Paris plenty of times and knew all the best spots. Y/N didn’t argue with him, it gave her one less thing to stress about and she was never any good at making decisions anyway.

The receptionist handed him two key cards and Harry rolled both of their suitcases into the elevator as Y/N followed closely behind. “Are our rooms next to each other?” Y/N wondered, admiring the lights in the elevator as they went up to the seventh floor.

Harry’s eyes widened for a second but then they twinkled with mischief. She noticed him biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to laugh. “Is that what you want two rooms?” He asked and Y/N’s cheeks flushed.

“W-well I d-didn’t want to assume,” She stuttered, feeling embarrassed.

Harry handed her both room keys, “Room 764,” He motioned her out of the elevator when it reached their floor and she walked ahead, scanning the numbers on the doors as she did.

Eventually, she got to room 764 and stopped. Harry was still rounding the corner with both of their suitcases so she waved the key over the scanner and saw the light turn green but instead of opening the door, she waited for it to lock again. Switching to the other key, she repeated the action of waving it over the lock only to see it flash green again.

This time she did walk through the door, putting both their bags on the ground as soon as she stepped inside. Her mouth fell open when she saw the room they’d be staying in.

Y/N had stayed in fancy hotels before thanks to her parents but this was something she had never seen before in her life. It had a high ceiling and a chandelier hanging in the middle. White curtains hung from the windows with a view of Paris right outside their window. She walked into the bathroom to see marble countertops and a deep bathtub with a separate glass-enclosed shower.

After taking everything in, she walked back into the bedroom where her eyes landed on the king-sized bed - one bed for two people.

The sight of it made Y/N’s mouth dry. It was her first time sharing a space with any boy, let alone her boyfriend, for longer than one night. Although she’d been spending a lot of time together, this was the first time Y/N would be sleeping beside him, waking up next to him, and getting ready with him. In fact, this whole trip they were all each other had.

“Do you like it?” Harry came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

Y/N spun round and clung to him, “Thank you,” She whispered, hoping he couldn’t feel the nerves radiating from her.

“I was thinking we go out and get something to eat and then maybe walk by the river. We’ll be training for the next few days so,” She sighed, longing to just stay in the room with him holding her the entire time.

“I’d like that,” She sighs, eyes closing.

Harry chuckles lowly, she feels the vibrations from his chest, “Y sure?”

“Mhm,”

Harry smiles even though she can’t see, “Or we can order room service and stay here?”

Y/N seems to melt against him as he rubs circles on her back, “I like that idea a lot more.”

She was pretty sure Harry had ordered everything off the menu in the time it took her to unpack her suitcase. She smiled to herself when she saw their shoes side by side at the door when she went to put her trainers beside them.

It wasn’t long before hours passed and Y/N was wrapped up in a plush, white bathrobe with Harry’s shirt and her pyjama shirt on underneath. A cart with empty plates of what once was full of an array of desserts and sides was cast off to one side as Y/N lay on top of Harry with a full belly. The TV played lowly in the back, Harry's hands playing with the ends of her long, loose hair. The sky had turned dark with the lights of Paris lighting the city.

“Y’ sleepy baby?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek and lifting her head like she was a little kitten so he could see her face.

Y/N hummed, nuzzling her cheek against his hand and curling into his side. Her hand slid up his torso to fiddle with the cross necklace around her neck. “Go to sleep,” He kisses the top of her head, “Got a long day tomorrow.”

Tomorrow they’d be off to the tennis club to train for the final at the end of the week. Harry had picked a hotel that was a ten-minute drive away just in case they ended up spending long hours into the night working on Y/N’s technique like they did when they were at Crestwood.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry rubbed soothing circles on her hip to try and lull her to sleep. The outside world seemed irrelevant in that moment, he felt as though he could lay there forever in this comforting bubble they had created together.

“Goodnight Harry,” Y/N mumbled, clutching his t-shirt.

“Goodnight baby,” He whispered, feeling the happiest he had ever been.

. . .

“Somebody pinch me, I feel like I’m dreaming,” Y/N gaped as they walked through the tennis club. She felt Harry pinch the skin above her elbow, “Not literally,” She huffed.

After a blissful night's sleep, Y/N awoke to her face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck as both of his arms held her tightly to him throughout the night. Sleep had always been Y/N’s worst enemy but she genuinely considered calling off today and just laying there with him.

They booked a cab before getting ready which would take them to the tennis club. They had planned a morning session of training so they could spend the remainder of the afternoon exploring Paris properly this time instead of looking out the window of the back of a taxi or from their hotel room where they had spent yesterday afternoon lounging around.

Harry smirked, “You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” He leads her to a big glass window in the lobby.

Y/N immediately gasps, pressing her nose against the glass wanting it to disappear so she could walk straight through it and across to the Roland Garros which just so happened to be right next door.

“I’m going to be there one day Harry,” Y/N says with the upmost determination in her voice.

Harry nods in agreement, “You will,” He says and that makes her believe it even more.

They walk hand in hand to the courts, Y/N in a white tennis dress and matching visor and Harry wearing a white polo shirt and white shorts. They were both wearing black sunglasses to cover their eyes, Harry snaked his arm around her shoulders, Y/N’s fingers automatically threading through his, as they walked outside.

They seemed to pause at the same time when they saw one of the courts already occupied. The sound of the ball speeding through the air and hitting the racket of the girl running to hit it in time broke through the air.

Y/N watched as the girl moved with such agility and force, meeting every hit made by her coach with her own. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, no one she had ever played against.

With one final hit across, the ball landed somewhere past her opponent and the game ended. The girl grabbed a towel and wiped it across her forehead, smiling as she took a waterbottle from the cooler. Her head raised, Y/N’s eyes casting away in hopes she wouldn’t come over but it was too late and she was already walking towards them.

Harry gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze as if to say "be nice," already familiar with her temper. However, she had put up a guard, uncertain whether to trust this girl or not.

“Hi,” She said, “I’m Courtney,” She held a hand out to which Y/N slowly responded, “You must be Y/N, I’ve been watching your games. You’re good.”

Y/N felt her jaw tick at the tone she used in trying to compliment her like she didn’t think she was a good player at all but she was trying to be nice about it.

“Thank you,” Y/N decided to not act out and instead remained civil.

Courtney flashed a pearly white grin, “Yes well my coach thought this whole Academy competition would be good training for the Junior Slam next year. It’s not often something I would participate in but no one can deny the glory of winning something no matter how easy it is.”

Y/N forced a smile, “You’re right, it seems every game just gets easier and easier. I’m sure this next one will be a walk in the park.”

Courtney smirked, her eyes drifting up to see Harry, “Harry,” She acknowledged, “I haven’t seen you since your injury? How is it?”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “Besides the fact I can’t play anymore, I’d say it’s going pretty well.”

Courtney’s smirk deepens, “Is that why you’re doing this? Since you can’t play you’ve got a little pitbull to carry the torch for you.”

Y/N’s fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, “You know, I’ve been watching you too Courtney.”

Courtney’s expression turned smug as she crossed her arms, “Oh really?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her nose like she was inspecting it, “Your nose is looking a little crooked after last season. My mother knows a doctor who can fix that if you want their number?”

Courtney scowled and spun on her heel to storm away from them after being reminded of her embarrassing moment from last season where she hit herself in the face with her tennis racket and broke her nose.

Harry chuckled from beside her, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not meant to but she pissed me off when she started talking about your injury like that.”

“It’s okay, if I didn’t think you had it covered I would have said something myself.” Harry began to walk to their side of the courts, “Now c’mon my little pitbull, let’s get to work.”

Y/N scowled at his choice of words but followed him anyway.

. . .

Throughout the entire week whenever they weren’t training - which was less often than they had hoped for but also the reason they were here in the first place - Y/N and Harry spent their evenings exploring the city.

Y/N was thankful Harry had been to Paris plenty of times before, enough to show her around and take her to some of his favourite spots.

Together they went to Harry’s favourite cafe each morning to pick up croissants and pastries to eat outside on the little tables and chairs. They visited the Eiffel Tower where they attempted to take photographs of each other holding it in the palms of their hands. They walked over to the Louvre where Harry paid for them to have a private tour in the evening and they would spend most of their evenings walking hand in hand as they strolled along the Seine.

This must be what being a kid feels like. Y/N thought to herself as Harry lay in between her legs as they sat on the grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower. He was reading a book he had bought from a small, indie bookstore they had come across as they walked through the streets.

Everything in her life had always been meticulously planned or she had to work hard for it, even at the age of eighteen. Both Y/N and Harry had been made to grow up quickly because their parents had raised them that way but together it felt like they had regressed back into their simplest forms. Life felt easy and colourful and magical. Each day, Y/N felt like her heart was shedding hardened skin and was slowly turning into this beautiful ball of light that weighed hardly anything inside of her chest.

She paused her train of thought when she felt Harry’s lips press a kiss to her arm, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” He murmured.

Tomorrow was the final and Y/N had been a nervous wreck all day hence why they had attempted to do things that might help her relax. Harry had woken her up with breakfast already carried in by one of the housekeepers and had offered to take her to the spa in the hotel but Y/N was desperate to escape the indoors and go outside so they ended up walking through the streets and stumbling into different shops on multiple street corners. Harry had even bought a baguette to put in his tote bag that they had been nibbling on all day.

“I don’t know if I can handle eating right now,” Y/N admitted, the nerves getting the best of her.

Harry shifted and turned around so he was lying on his stomach, his chin resting on her belly, “You’ll regret it if you don’t eat baby,” He kissed her exposed stomach from where her shirt had risen, “Even if it’s just a little something, y’ can’t go to bed hungry.”

Y/N knew he was right which is how they ended up in one of the fanciest restaurants Harry could have possibly picked from the many Paris had to offer with two plates of pasta and a shared basket of garlic bread between them.

At one point, midway through making her laugh, Harry pulled out his phone to quickly take her picture. Y/N's cheeks tinged pink as she asked, "What did you do that for?"

Harry bit back a grin, “Because you’re my girlfriend and sometimes I take photos of you to make sure this is real,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “What? Do you want to see the whole album I’ve made for you too?”

“A whole album? Ew weirdo,” She teased.

“Not a weirdo, ‘m just obsessed with you,” He says, “Wait until you’ve seen all the playlists I’ve made over the years I’ve been pining for you behind closed doors.”

Y/N’s lips part, “You’re lying,”

“I’m not, I swear,” Harry chuckles, “Remember that box of chocolates you found in your cubby in fifth year on Valentine’s Day?”

“That was not you,” Y/N refused to believe it, “Sarah and I sat in the park after school eating them on the swings after she broke up with Byron.”

“It was,” Harry nodded, his cheeks turning rosy but he carried on, “The day you asked me to teach you to play tennis I felt like I was floating on a cloud at the big old age of eight.”

“But you said no,”

“Yeah because I figured you’d never leave me alone until I did and low and behold here we are today.” He says like he’s been planning this exact moment in time all his teenage life.

“Ah so you’ve been scheming ever since,” Y/N joked.

Harry shrugged, “I may have put things into motion but I think you were always meant to be a part of my life, Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart warmed like he was holding a candle beneath it, “I don’t think I remember anything good that you weren’t a part of.”

He reached for her hand across the table and kissed the inside of her wrist, “You are my good.”

. . .

Harry leaned against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom as he brushed his teeth whilst Y/N lay on the bed in just a towel and underwear having just finished showering. Both their gazes were fixed on the television with re-runs of previous tennis matches playing with the volume down.

Harry’s eyes softened when they looked at Y/N who watched the TV with so much awe on her face. He felt a sense of pride wash over him for both his girlfriend and for himself. After his injury, he thought himself damned and that nothing would give him the rush of playing tennis against big names like he did before but now he had Y/N and life before today seemed non-existent - maybe he hadn’t really been living at all.

He spat out his toothpaste and turned the bathroom light off. He stopped in the doorway in just his boxers when Y/N switched the TV off and there was nothing but the soft, warm glow of the lamp lighting the room.

Her eyes looked up at him, vulnerability shining from them, “If I lose tomorrow will you still look at me the same?” She asked.

Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

She sighed heavily, sitting up and pulling the towel closer to her to hide her naked chest, “Will you still like me?”

Harry’s eyes softened. It wasn’t often she shared such a vulnerable side with people so whenever he got a glimpse of it, he felt himself spiralling out of control like he was completely at her mercy, “No,” He starts and walks towards her squatting down before the bed and reaching a hand out to hold her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbones, “But I’ll love you a little harder than I do right now,”

A breath escaped from Y/N’s lips as they parted, her heart pounding, “What?” She breathed.

Harry’s lips curved, “I love you.”

She still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, “You do?”

Harry said nothing other than a small nod as he waited for her to respond, “I love you too,” She whispered, her eyes glistening, “More than anything in this world.”

Harry didn’t need to hear anything else as he surged forward to kiss her, his bottom lip sliding between hers. Y/N held his face in her hands as she kissed him as hard as she could whilst he crawled onto the bed.

She fell back, feeling the soft sheets beneath her as Harry held himself up above her. The towel around her had loosened her pulse racing as she realised what was happening. “We don’t have to-” Harry started but Y/N kissed him quickly to shut him up.

“I want to,” She murmured against his lips.

Harry nodded, his curls falling around his face as his cheeks tinged pink, “I-I can’t promise I’ll be good,” Y/N immediately shook her head, pushing his curls back and looking him straight in the eye.

“I love you, Harry,” She saw the way his eyes twinkled as she spoke those words, “Whatever we do will be perfect because it’s with you and nobody else. Just us.”

Harry smiles, “The way it’s always been. You and me,”

Y/N mirrors his smile before kissing him again, running her hands up and down his back with nothing but the sound of their lips connecting and their heavy exhales filling the silence of the room.

As Harry kissed down her neck, Y/N felt her nerves escalating as an idea formed in her mind. The towel around her was the only barrier preventing their skin from touching, and she yearned to feel the warmth of his bare chest against hers.

Before getting lost in a spiral of self-doubt, Y/N loosened her grip on the towel. Harry paused his assault on her neck and they both froze, “Holy shit,” Harry whispered maybe to himelf but she wasn’t quite sure, “Okay give me a second,” His eyes squeezed shut and Y/N waited.

Suddenly, Harry’s head glimpsed down at her naked form lying beneath him. The only piece of fabric left on her was a pair of red, lace panties, “Fuck,” Harry cursed, “This isn’t real, pinch me so I can wake up,”

“Harry,” Y/N laughed.

“I’m sorry baby but you’re just gonna have to give me a moment because- Holy shit.” He exclaimed, “This is way better than I imagined,” He muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry was in awe of the girl that lay beneath him, every curve of her body and inch of her soft skin looked as thought it was sculpted by tender hands. His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs and he felt the hard muscle from months and months of playing tennis and yet, despite all that, her skin was still so damn soft.

Harry couldn’t think up enough words to praise the temple that was her body so he sealed his lips with hers, his tongue darting out filled with lust and need. His fingers slid up her thigh to grip her ass and when his hips rolled against hers she felt him - all of him.

Y/N let out a moan as he kissed down her body, he pulled her into him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her arms looped around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering shut, as Harry kissed and touched every inch of skin. She felt like all the heavy parts of her were being taken out of her body and only her heart remained. He cupped her breasts in his hand and squeezed, her nipples hardening despite the warmth of his touch. She felt like dough, fluffy and light, and no matter what he did to her they would somehow mould together perfectly.

She felt Harry’s thumb hook the waistband of her panties when he kissed the inside of her thigh, “Harry,” Y/N gasped. It seemed to be the only word she had left inside of her empty head.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his green eyes peering up at her.

“No,” She said, too quickly, “You can do anything y’ want to me.” She trusted him that much.

Harry shuddered at her words, his heart expanding three sizes inside of his chest. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about somebody, to feel like all his calloused skin was peeling off of his body and now he was someone completely new.

With shaky hands, he removed Y/N’s underwear, seeing the way her chest rose and fell. His hands gently pushed her plush thighs apart, “Fuck baby,” He groaned.

“Please Harry,” Y/N mewled, her hips wriggling in hopes the action would propel him to do something.

“Calm down lovie, jus’ admiring how pretty y’ are,” He smirks, his thumb trailing up her slit until it reached her clit. He stopped, hearing her weighted breaths before he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles. He caught the stutter in her breath, watching when her hands fisted the blanket.

Without warning, Y/N feels his warm, wet tongue run between her folds. The sensation feels foreign but she’s overcome by intense pleasure as he begins lapping her through her folds. She feels her lungs deflate as the air escapes her, unable to breathe when he teases her clenching open. Her toes curl as his other hand travels to her hip to hold her down and nuzzle his face harder against her.

Hearing her whines and feeling her writing beneath him, Harry feels his cock throbbing in his boxers, he could feel the damp fabric against his skin as he pressed himself into the mattress with his head still in between her thighs.

“So good,” Y/N babbles, her body shivering when she felt the coil begin to tighten in the pit of her belly, “So, so good Harry.”

Before she could find her release, Harry pulled away his chin glistening with her juices. Y/N’s hands grapple for him but she can barely reach him and feels too floaty to try any harder. Harry’s hair is a mess as he crawls up her bare body and kisses her. She tastes herself on his tongue when they brush against each other, “I need to be inside of you,” He slurs against her lips, “I need you so bad Y/N, I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”

Harry’s head hangs, his curls falling in front of his face. Y/N automatically pushes them back, her hips rolling against his. She can feel the damp spot against his boxers despite her own wetness covering her thighs, “I’m on birth control,” She tells him.

Harry groans, his forehead pressing against her collarbones, “Of course you are,” He says, “Always so fucking prepared, aren’t you?” He drawls, “My best girl,”

Y/N’s heart flips and spins at his words, but the reality of the situation sets in when she feels him removing his boxers. She gasps as she feels his hardened length against the inside of her thigh. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Harry was big; she had no clue whether it was normal for someone to be as thick as he was, and she wondered how she was meant to fit it all inside of her.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and Y/N nods, “I feel like we should high-five or something,”

Y/N can’t help but laugh, “What?”

“Well we’re both virgins about to lose our virginity, shouldn’t we like boost morale or something?” He jokes and Y/N laughs so hard her cheeks ache.

After they both settle, Harry kisses her quickly as he lines his cock up to her pussy, “Harry?” He hums a reponse, “It’ll fit right?”

Harry groaned, his mind still picturing her small, wet glistening pussy that he had just had his first taste of, “Yes baby, it’s your first time so it’ll hurt a little but if you want to stop we’ll stop and if you say go we’ll go and if you want me to leave you alone for ten minutes, I’ll leave for five. Whatever you want.”

“Okay,” She nods, fully determined, “I love you,”

Harry’s eyes soften, “I love you too, lovie.”

Y/N smiles, “I like that name,”

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curve.

“Yeah,” Y/N loops her arms around his neck and tries her best to relax when she feels the tip of his cock brush through her folds.

Harry kisses her forehead, “Take a deep breath,” He says and as she does, she feels him push his hips down and his tip gently ease into her. She gasps, feeling her pussy throb as he moves achingly slow, inch by inch inside of her. A thin layer of sweat covers Harry’s forehead, his jaw clenching as he feels her walls squeezing him tightly.

She feels a sting of pain as his thick length pushes through her, her pussy stretching to accommodate his size.

“Baby,” He murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing over her cheek, “If you keep clenching around me I’m gonna cum before I’m all the way inside of you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re not all the way in yet?”

Harry cringed, “M sorry, do you want to stop?”

Y/N immediately shook her head, pulling him closer to her, “Keep going,” She whispered despite the fact she was wondering if she even had enough room to fit him inside of her when she already felt so full.

Harry eased into her a little quicker this time, kissing her soothingly and whispering sweet, encouraging nothings into her ear. He even began to rub his thumb against her clit in hopes it would ease some of her discomfort.

Eventually, he found himself all the way, deep inside of her, her walls squeezing him tightly with his hips pressed against her own. “Are you okay?” He murmured.

“Mhm,” Y/N could barely keep her eyes open from how blissful she felt. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, her entire body was just full up of him in ever sense of the word, “Can we stay like this for a moment,”

He kissed her shoulder and along her collarbones, “Whatever you want lovie, doing so well,”

Although he was trying to remain calm for her, Harry couldn’t believe he was buried deep inside of the girl he had loved for so long. He couldn’t feel any part of his body apart from where they were both connected, slotted together so perfectly like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Her hair splayed out around her on the pillow, her lips were plushy and swollen, and her cheeks were red, the colour of two, crisp apples picked right off a tree. She was a dream, the love of his life.

“Okay,” She murmured, “Y’ can move now.”

“Are you sure?” He would hate himself if he caused her any more pain but she nodded.

A hiss escaped her lips as Harry began to slowly move out of her. He paused, “I just need to get used to it is all,” She assured.

Harry nods, waiting for her to tell him to move again and when she does, he moves gently out of her before carefully thrusting back into her again. Now that she was getting used to the feeling of him inside of her, Y/N could feel the ridges and veins of his cock brush her walls, the tip of his cock pressing into her g-spot as he moved inside of her.

“God Harry,” Y/N whines.

“You’re m’ dream girl,” Harry slurs, biting his lip when he takes in how tight she is as she clenches around him. He grabs one of the hands still placed around his neck and kisses her wrist. He intertwines their fingers and settles their hands beside her head needing to feel her touch, “M’ best girl, I love y’ so much.” He whispers.

“Love you,” She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts over and over again, each one more perfect than the last.

“Y’ pussy is so perfect baby, made for each other, aren’t we? Hmm? Y’ my perfect, dream girl.” He groans, his head falling forward.

Harry pulled his hand away from hers to smear his thumb over her clit. Y/N whimpers and writhes beneath him at the added pleasure, “Faster,” She whispers, “Please.”

Harry presses messy kisses along her jawline, “Don’t have to beg baby,” He hastens his rhythmic thrusts, their moans filling the air.

“Can feel y’ clenching baby?” Harry seemed to already have an idea of when Y/N was about to cum from the way her body shivered beneath him, “Y’ gonna cum?”

“Yes Harry,” She gasps, “Please Harry, it feels so good,” Her eyes pinched with tears at the overwhelming pleasure that filled every part of her.

“Cum round my cock baby, make a mess hmm, need y’ to cum so I can cum too yeah?” He was almost pleading, words tumbling from his mouth as his thrusts began to speed up the closer he got to his release.

Y/N could feel that same coil begin to tighten in her belly, she could see her vision start to blur and all her muscles tighten until it snapped and her back arched into him. He swooped one arm beneath her, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck as he groaned into her, “Fuck,” He heaved, releasing into her.

Y/N could barely get any words out as he collapsed on top of her. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling, her lips parting with small puffs of air escaping her. She felt like she was floating, levitating off the bed and leaving her body behind, “Y’ okay baby,” Harry murmured, kissing her cheek, “Come down for me yeah?” He presses a hand to her forehead.

“Harry,” She whimpers, the first word to leave her lips after coming down from her high. She loops her arms around him and he scoops her up into his.

“You did such a good job, m’love,” He coos, moving her matted hair out of her forehead and admiring how beautiful she looked under the soft light of the lampshade.

“Was so perfect,” She whispers, meeting his soft, green eyes and lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face.

“Yeah?” He smiled, holding her to him like she was something so fragile he was afraid he might break her.

“Mhm,” She hums, curling into him. “I love you,” She kissed his chest and felt his heart thudding against her hand.

“I’ve loved you for a long time,” Harry replied.

They lay tangled together amongst the sheets, waiting to float back down into their bodies but basking in every second they had in that moment where their hearts were the same.

. . .

Y/N lay in bed that same night with Harry’s t-shirt now covering her bare form. Harry laughed as he re-entered the bedroom having just taken his second shower of the evening.

She was watching a tennis match on the TV again.

“You’re watching tennis?” He smiled, falling on the bed beside her, clad only in his boxers. “Is this your version of cigarettes after sex?”

Y/N grins, “What can I say? It’s my addiction.”

He reaches for her hand and mindlessly plays with her fingers but his ears prick when he hears his name from one of the commentators, “This is my game from last year,” Harry speaks, seeing his face appear on the screen.

They watched as Harry walked onto the court exuding confidence as he shook hands with his opponent before the match started. He then pointed his racket at the middle of the stands where the audience was watching.

“Why do you do that?” Y/N wonders, “Before every game, you’d always point your racket at the middle of the audience.” “Every game?” Harry poked her side.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve watched every single one of your games so what?”

Harry smiled, kissing her bare shoulder and answering, “Because you used to sit there.”

Y/N stilled turning her head to look at him, “What?”

“Whenever I would play at any of my tennis matches, I always looked out for you in the crowd and I’d always find you sitting right in the middle of the bleachers to watch. Eventually, it just became a thing, before I even set foot onto the court, I’d find you sitting in the exact same spot with the exact same expression on your face. I thought you were a good luck charm because whenever you weren’t sat there I’d lose. When I went to matches that you weren’t going to be watching, I just started pointing down the centre courts like my own superstition or something.”

“Is that really the reason?” Y/N’s eyes glistened.

Harry nodded, his eyes casting downward, “S embarrassing I know,”

Y/N shook her head, cupping his face in her hands, “You’re so perfect,” She mumbled, the both of them falling back onto the mattress, getting lost in each other all over again.

. . .

Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the crowd gathering in the stands as she sat in her plastic chair on the left-hand side of the umpire’s seat. Harry stood next to her, barely saying a word but offering her his presence to ease her nerves.

Today was the final, the day Y/N had been working towards all these months and it didn’t feel real. The air was hot and humid, Y/N could already feel her skin sticking to the chair as the sun beat down on her.

After waking up this morning, Y/N felt a blissful ache between her legs from her night with Harry. In some ways, she was thankful for it because for a moment it helped her forget what events lay ahead. Their night together had been magical, there was no other way she could describe it. She had no idea what could happen to a person after being so vulnerable with another but she felt lighter and even more in love with Harry than she had ever been before.

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll be starting soon,” He murmured, squatting in front of her to meet her eyes.

They had gone to the gym first thing in the morning to warm up for the day's big event. Harry had tried to distract her mind from the doubts that consumed her by playing bad music or challenging her strength on the bel bars but Y/N’s mind constantly drifted.

“Right,” Y/N felt the pit in her stomach cave inwards, consuming all her insides and mushing them altogether. She felt a wave of nausea as Courtney walked onto the court and everyone applauded her.

“Y/N,” Harry grasped her hand in her lap and squeezed, “You are going to win this. I wholeheartedly believe in you.”

Her shoulders drop, “If I don’t-”

“There’s no ‘if’,” Harry interrupted her before she could finish her negative train of thought, “You can and you will. Courtney may be a good tennis player but her ego outweighs all of that.”

Y/N nods, “Okay,” She says.

Harry stands, his hand cupping her left cheek to lift her head. He grins, “I love you.”

Y/N knows her heart is still intact at least from the way it flips and spins inside her chest at his words, “I love you too.”

A twinkle shines in his eyes until they drift over to the stands. His lips curve, “I think there are some other people here who love you too,” He motions his head towards the crowd and Y/N casts her gaze over in that direction.

She feels her eyes prick with tears when she sees Sarah, Mitch and Adam in the front row of the stands all wearing t-shirts with her name and face plastered onto them. Sarah immediately spots her and waves, pointing to her shirt with excitement and pride for her best friend.

“Did you bring them here?” Y/N asked, looking up at Harry.

He shrugged, “Sarah was insisting she came,”

Y/N squeezes his hand, “Thank you,” She whispers, “For all of this. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Harry holds her feeling her heart hammering against her chest as too many emotions consume them both.

Unfortunately for her, Harry couldn’t stay at her side for the entire game but he was in the front row of the stands, directly in the middle exactly where she would sit whenever she would watch any of his games back home.

When the umpire announced the game would begin, Y/N walked over to Courtney and shook her hand, “Good luck,” She said.

Courtney scoffed, “Yeah, thanks.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

As the match began, Y/N and Courtney faced off on the court. The crowd hushed, watching intently. Y/N felt jittery as she waited for Courtney's first serve.

Courtney tossed the ball and swung her racket, sending the ball flying towards Y/N who responded quickly, hitting the ball back with a loud smack.

The game was on. Y/N and Courtney traded shots back and forth, each trying to outplay the other. Y/N felt confident with each move she made, pushing away her earlier doubts until she noticed Courtney begin to counteract her moves when she took in how Y/N responded to each shot.

With one hard-hitting strike, Courtney sent the ball straight past Y/N’s shoulder.

Courtney had the first point.

Y/N glanced over at Harry, seeing him watching with intense focus but his eyes were glued onto her as if she were the only person on the court.

Ignoring Courtney’s smug expression, Y/N served the ball sending it straight into the air and hitting it back with all the force and aggression she could muster. The rally started up again, each stroke a testament to Y/N’s hard work over the past few months. Except this time, the winning prize was closer than it had ever been before.

Y/N aimed the ball and landed it in the corner, Country struggling to reach it in time before it bounced off.

“Fifteen all.” The umpire speaks.

Her ears caught the cheers of her best friend in the crowd, Harry stood and clapped for her but she could still see how tense he was since the game had only just begun.

This back-and-forth continued for the next few rounds. Every time Y/N would move, Courtney would match it. The scores were inching closer and closer to the end. Y/N watched when Courtney served the ball once more and aimed to respond, wrapping both her hands tightly around her racket and running towards the ball as it flung through the air but then she felt it.

An intense pain travelled through her entire body coming from her shoulder and travelling down her arm.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, the ball landing right by her as she dropped to her knees and her racket fell from her hands. Y/N let out a pained scream as she clutched her shoulder.

Medics ran onto the court, people gasping in their seats as they watched the events unfold. “Harry,” Y/N whimpered, “Harry,” She was saying his name like he was looking out for him.

“Stop moving,” One of the medics urged when Y/N tried to stand up.

“Harry,” Y/N sobbed, tears falling from her eyes.

She wasn’t sure what hurt more - her shoulder or her heart breaking from the thought of all this being over.

“Y/N,” Harry was out of breath as he approached her, pushing the security out of the way when they tried to stop him. He collapsed to his knees beside her, searching for the damage.

“Harry,” Y/N cried, the only word she could possibly seem to say in a moment like this.

Harry didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless as he waited for the medics to finish checking out her arm. He held her head to his chest, covering her ears as though it would be enough to shelter her from all that was going on around them. “It’s okay baby,” He whispered, trying to remain calm despite the panic he was feeling.

He felt as though this was all some kind of nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from. Flashbacks from his own injury came to the forefront of his mind as he sat beside her, his shirt dampening as her tears seeped through. “You’re going to be fine,” He told her, repeatedly like he was trying to make himself believe it too.

“It’s ruined, I failed.” Y/N sobbed.

“Hey,” He held her face, trying to smooth some of the tears away, “You’re not a failure and you didn’t ruin anything. You played so well, the best I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s over,” She couldn’t take in anything he was saying and he knew that.

He knew what she was feeling - how the pain of losing everything outweighed the physical pain of an injury. “I love you Y/N, you’re going to be okay.” Was all he could say.

“Y/N, it's a mild dislocation,” one of the medics explained.

“What?” Y/N tried not to scream as they moved her arm.

“We need to take you to the hospital to get it reset,” they advised, but Y/N shook her head immediately.

“No,” she whispered urgently, “Do it now.”

“Y/N—” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Ignoring him, Y/N locked eyes with him and insisted, “Put it back in now, and I can finish the game.”

“Y/N, this is crazy,” Harry protested, shaking his head, “I won’t let you go out there in this much pain.”

“You’ve done it before,” she reminded him, “I watched you dislocate your shoulder and keep playing.”

“This is different,” Harry argued, remembering his own injury.

“If I don’t finish this, I would hate myself,” Y/N insisted earnestly, “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ll be at a disadvantage. You’d have to play the entire game with one hand.”

“I know, and I know how to do it,” Y/N reassured him, her eyes softening, “Because you taught me.”

Harry struggled with a gut feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Okay,” he relented, brushing her hair back gently, “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” the medic asked, clearly apprehensive.

“Just do it,” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth.

Harry held the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck, clinging onto his hands tightly. “I’m gonna be so mad at you for this later,” he whispered into her ear.

“That’s okay,” Y/N attempted a smile, but it quickly faded as the medics reset her shoulder. She wailed and squeezed Harry’s hand so tightly he thought it might fall off.

As the medics stepped back, Y/N raised her arm, feeling the pain subside but still present. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

“No,” Y/N said, “But I have to do this.”

The crowd gasped when Y/N stood, picking up her racket with one hand and flipping it in her hand. Harry stood, glancing over at Courtney who was equally as shocked as everybody else.

He stood in front of Y/N, “I’m so pissed at you right now,” He huffs, “But you better win this.”

Y/N shot him a sad smile, “I’ll try my best.”

He hastily kissed her lips before she could walk away to carry on playing, “That’s all I ask,” He murmured against her. He walks back to his place in the stands, Y/N watching as he goes.

She pushed away the pain that was shooting down her arm and stood on her end of the court to finish the game. Courtney seemed unsure, scanning the way she stood and seeing her limp arm beside her.

Y/N glanced at the academy trophy, feeling like it was now out of reach.

The umpire announced the final round and the tension fell thick in the air. Y/N inhaled a shaky breath and got into position, watching as Courtney threw the ball into the air and hit it with her racket.

Even though one of her arms wasn’t exactly working, her legs worked just fine as she ran for the ball, hitting it with her racket in her one hand. She gritted her teeth when the pain increased with her movements and met Coutrney’s rallies as best as she could. The match raged on, each swing of the racket echoing with the intensity of her cries as Y/N hit the ball.

With each shot, Y/N poured her heart and soul into the game, her movements fueled by sheer determination. The crowd held its breath, watching in awe as she defied the odds with every stroke.

As the pain intensified, Y/N's desperation for the game to end grew. She couldn't understand why Courtney hadn't already sealed the win with one final move. However, Y/N was slowly wondering whether Courtney was using her pain as a way of satisfying her own ego. Y/N noticed whenever she winced or faltered in her movements, Courtney's smirk widened as if she was intentionally prolonging the game to relish in Y/N's discomfort.

A surge of anger ignited within Y/N at the realisation. Harry had been right about Courtney's ego, and now Y/N was determined to turn it against her.

With gritted teeth and a steely determination in her eyes, Y/N squared her shoulders and focused solely on the game. She blocked out the pain, channeling every ounce of her strength and skill into each swing of her racket.

Courtney's smirk faltered as Y/N's resolve became palpable. The crowd sensed a shift in momentum, their cheers growing louder. With each stroke, Y/N felt herself gaining ground, her movements becoming more fluid and precise.

And then, with one final, decisive shot, she sent the ball sailing past Courtney, landing squarely within the boundaries of the court.

Y/N fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes as she realised she had won the entire game.

Harry, Sarah, Mitch and Adam all leapt from the stands and ran towards her, embracing her carefully so to avoid her aching shoulder.

Harry picked her up, holding her tightly and kissing her face, “You did it,” He grinned, “You won.”

“I did it,” Y/N sobbed in disbelief and then a smile took over her entire face as realisation hit her.

She had won.

. . .

Y/N stood by her locker with Sarah, her arm wrapped in a sling whilst wearing her school uniform. Banners littered the walls of the hallway with ‘congratulations’ written in golden handwriting across them.

“I can’t believe you won’t be coming with me to UCL next year,” Sarah huffed, “How am I meant to do anything without you?”

Y/N smiled at her best friend, “The tennis academy is a twenty minute walk away from UCL so it’s not like we’ll be away from each other.”

“I know but who am I going to roomie with next year?” Sarah sighed, “It won’t be the same. We’ve been roommates since we were five, I can’t trust anybody like I do with you. I mean, you even accept my white noise machine.”

Y/N hadn’t accepted it, she hated that thing, but Sarah was her best friend so she put up with it, “Well how about we get an apartment together?”

Sarah almost gasps, “Seriously?”

Y/N nods, “I was thinking maybe me, you, Mitch and Harry could all move in together since we’re going to be living in the same city.”

Sarah’s entire face lights up at the idea, “Have you told Harry about it?”

“We spoke about it last night.” Last night when she stayed the night at his apartment and spent most of the night tangled up in one another.

Sarah squealed, “I have to tell Mitch, he is going to love that idea. Don’t tell Harry this but the other day he started crying at the thought of having to leave him when the year ends.”

They walked out of the school building together, Sarah rambling about how she wanted to decorate their non-existing apartment as Y/N nodded intently to each of her ideas.

Since the Academy Slam, not much had changed other than the fact that Y/N was now going to be spending the next two years at the Tennis Academy in London. The school newspaper had done another interview with her but this time she didn’t mind so much that Harry shared the front cover with her, pride on his face as he looked down at her.

Even though she was achieving her dreams, nothing compared to the relationship she had with Harry. Everyday Y/N felt like she was floating whenever she woke up in Harry’s arms in his apartment or in her tiny dorm bed whenever Sarah wasn’t around.

A smile covered her entire face when she saw Harry looking like every girl’s wet dream, leaning up against the bonnet of his audi as he waited for her. When he did, his own smile mirrored hers, “Hi baby,” He spoke, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Hi Harry,” Y/N stood toe to toe in front of him, clutching her books in one arm.

He wrapped one arm around her waist beneath her blazer and pulled her into his chest, kissing her lips softly, his breath tasting like mint chewing gum, “How’s m’ girl?”

Y/N bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling so much, “Good, I had a test today.”

“Did you smash it?” He smirked.

“Yes but I probably could have done better if somebody hadn’t kept me up all last night.” She rolled her eyes.

His lips went to her neck, “Don’t lie, you loved what I did,” He mumbled against her skin as he suckled on her neck, surely leaving a mark.

“These late nights are getting out of hand,” Y/N made a feeble attempt to push him away.

“Mmm,” He hummed, pulling away, “Need I remind you that you were the one to initiate it,”

“I did not,” Y/N gaped.

“Uh huh,” Harry smirked, “Whatever you want to believe.”

“No you were the one who-”

Harry’s smirk deepened, “Who what?” He watched as Y/N’s cheeks turned pink and her mouth open and closed as she struggled to say something.

“Shut up,” She huffed, walking to the passenger seat of his car, “Take me home please,”

“Whatever you want,” He beamed, loving the way she called his apartment her home.

He drove away from the tennis courts, a spark of joy igniting within her every time they came into view. Harry held her hand over the console as they drove down the streets to his apartment, feeling more at peace than she had ever been before. Not only was she going to be going to her dream school but she’d also be with Harry and her best friend too.

For a long time, Y/N believed that tennis was the only love of her life but now she had Harry and if she had to choose between the two, she would pick him every single time.

taglist: @storyschanging @lilbredsticc @esposa-do-harry @st-ev-ie @itschelseacisneros @hermionelove @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hesvoid34 @writersarenotartists @ayeree1 @sassamanda77 @estaticheart

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stayevildarling · 1 day

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Russian Roulette

A/N: I know my followers and Sarah lovers will kill me for posting this before posting another Sarah fic but honestly I'm just lacking motivation for those characters right now 🫶🏻 I had this kinda enemy to lovers idea and I couldn't resist 🤷🏻‍♀️ thank you @billiebeanhoward for your help with this one <3

prompt: Natasha wasn't very fond of you and she couldn't hide it. Noticing the tension between you two, Tony ends up sending you two on a ,,mission'' causing for you both to get to know and love each other a little better.

tags/warnings: female reader, mention of cursing, mention of violence/fighting (mild), mention of guns/drugs (mild), Natasha being a little mean at the beginning, angst, fluff at the end

word count: 10k (I apologise for the somewhat rushed ending but I know some people hate reading long fics. I also apologise for any mistakes. I tried proofreading this twice)

taglist: (if you want to be added just sent me an ask/dm or comment)

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It had been an ordinary day at the avengers compound so far, the weather had been lovely today, despite some dark clouds lingering in the air. It even made training some new recruits outside today possible, which most of you enjoyed, sending them running across the fields, especially Steve who it often reminded of his earlier days in training for the army. For you, the day had been ordinary so far, starting with breakfast, before hitting the gym and doing some weights and cardio before joining some others in the sun and enjoying the weather outside. The only thing on your agenda today had been a meeting with some of the other avengers, including Tony who had called for the meeting.

The meeting started off normally, as it would always, some chatting and bickering before Tony interrupted you all by telling you what he wanted. Wanda had made some pastries for everyone and you couldn't help but chuckle at how most of them stuffed their mouths full and suddenly turned from intimidating and strong superheros to almost adorable beings. However you couldn't ignore the tension, reminding you of the weather before, sunshine and laughter before being replaced with some dark clouds and long faces. It wasn't really many long faces, it was Natasha Romanoff. As soon as Tony had mentioned the upcoming missions and that he was sending you on another one, the room had turned much quieter as her green eyes shot daggers at both you and Tony.

You had always been fond of Natasha, since joining the avengers almost a year back. You appreciated the thought of another woman on the team. Of course there was Wanda, but she was mostly around when her magic was needed, plus she still had her own things and didn't always join you. You appreciated the thought of another badass woman who definitely knows how to fight and you assumed it would make being on a team with mostly men a lot easier. However, you quickly learned that Natasha was either- just like those said men or she simply didn't care for you or anyone. You had tried to make friends with her, often offering to train some new recruits with her, bring her a meal after a long mission and she refused to join the others or even make light conversation. However, she was always closed off around you, never sharing any details- let alone a smile or polite gesture the way she would with the others.

In the end you had brushed it off, assuming she simply didn't like you or that it took a very long time for her to get used to someone. The thought of her being jealous or even intimidated had indeed crossed your mind once, however you had brushed it off before you could properly think about it, knowing Natasha was definitely more experienced, tougher and stronger than you are. And you had been confused, as to why Tony kept sending you on missions. Why he never paired you up with Natasha or made it even between you two. When he broke the news of the last mission, you had even thought about offering it to Natasha or her coming along but with her death glare, you didn't dare speak up to the redhead woman.

It took mere seconds after the meeting ended, Bucky sharing some details with you as he had been familiar with the country and area, the others chatting along before Natasha stormed out. Clint's eyes following her and him quick to follow behind. After some more chatting, you excused yourself, before making your way into the hallway, feeling the strange urge to follow the redhead as well, despite knowing it may not be a good idea and equally having to get going as one of the jets would be ready in about an hour. As you make your way towards your room, you notice the shadow of both Natasha and Clint in the hallway, her features tense and his noticing your presence. Despite feeling the urge to say something, you simply brush past them, unable to ignore how stern her eyes followed your every move and feeling slightly intimidated, despite the comforting smile that Clint tried to give you to ease the tension.

,,This is bullshit'' you hear her say, her accent thick due to her frustration, before you make your way into your room to gather your things and prepare for your mission.

----

The next time you find yourself at the all too familiar avengers compound which had also been your home for a while, it's about a week later. Your mission had been successful, gathering all the information that Tony had intented for this big operation they had worked on. Your work had been small really, working undercover in one of the labs they had managed to sneak you inside and gathering all the information by accessing their database but also talking to the employes. Somehow, despite not having powers like Wanda possessed, your gut always told you when someone was lying or was hiding something, equally when danger lurked nearby. You never managed to quite put a meaning or reasoning behind this but it had always been that way so you eventually stopped questioning it and simply went along with it.

As you exit the jet, rain instantly greets you as you hurry inside, wanting nothing more than to get in the shower before the debriefing and having to work on your mission reports. As you walk past some of the avengers, you do some joking with Steve, Bucky asking some questions and Wanda asking how you truly are. She often asked you, checking in with you and with her you genuinely feel like someone cared about your wellbeing, of course the others did too but she had a very different way of showing it. After eventually washing of the stress from the past few days, quickly braiding your hair as you aren't in the mood to dry it and throw on some clothes, you join the others in the meeting room. Your eyes dart around the room and search Natasha's for some reason and you notice that she seemed much less tense than the other week.

What you had missed the previous week was how Clint somehow convinced Natasha to speak up for herself, to tell Tony that she didn't appreciate you getting all the missions since joining, how she felt neglected and that her needs weren't met anymore. Some of the guys had overheard the conversation and simply shared knowing glances as they had noticed the tension between you two but also the undeniable attraction towards each other, despite both you and the redhead oblivious to the later feeling still. He had promised her to include her in missions more and that he had no intention of making her feel those things, despite cracking a few jokes here and there which the Russian definitely didn't appreciate given the circumstances.

,,Great work Clint, Y/N'' Tony tells you as he begins the meeting, both Hawkeye and you having been on separate missions but practically around the same time as he left a day after you and returned a few hours prior to your arrival. The team ends up chatting a little as you fill them in on the details and intel you had managed to gather. Your eyes occasionally find their way to Natasha who simply looks either through you or with her usual stern expression, you couldn't really tell. ,,Well, considering how things went'' Tony begins, trailing off a little as he walks around the table, eventually looking into the distance and overlooking the grounds. ,,I have another mission regarding another matter... top secret stuff'' he tells you and you truly hope he wasn't about to send you on another one considering you had just returned.

,,I think we need some girl power for this one, so I'm sending Natasha and Y/N tomorrow'' he begins and your eyes widen a little as your breath hitches. The redheads jaws drop, while the others simply share knowing glances, Steve and Bucky even chuckling a little and their eyes almost speaking silently as if they knew more about this. ,,That sounds great'' Wanda tries, lifting the mood a little but Natasha again simply looks at Tony as if she is about to kill him, clearly not what she meant when she said she wanted more missions. ,,And it's in a beautiful location too'' Iron man continues talking as your eyes keep wandering to the redhead who simply acts like you aren't present. ,,Which is?'' her voice rings through the air, her accent again thick due to her frustration. ,,Paris'' he exclaims almost cheerfully and this time the two of you fail to register the knowing glances and smirks from your other members. ,,City of love'' Steve exclaims with a chuckle ,,Sounds romantic'' Bucky teases which causes for you and Natasha to equally roll your eyes. ,,It's the city of light actually'' she mocks them, fake matching their giddiness.

A few minutes later, the meeting comes to an end and this time you are the one pretty much straight out, not minding the mission with Natasha, despite having a feeling it wouldn't be pleasant. You simply wanted to finish your mission reports and catch up on some very needed rest. As you pass the gym on the way to your room, you watch as Natasha walks in, preparing one of her protein shakes in the corner after equally storming out of the meeting. This time you listen to the feeling in your gut and linger by the door a few moments before knocking gently, not to startle the redhead. ,,Hi'' you exclaim quietly and she simply watches as you linger by the door. ,,How do you feel about the mission?'' you ask sincerly, ready to offer her to speak to Tony so he could maybe convince to swap you with Clint as you had a feeling she hated this.

,,How am I supposed to feel? it's a mission'' she exclaims, scoffing almost before continuing to mix her protein shake and the question makes you feel stupid, despite your best intentions. And somehow, something within you snaps, having been nothing but kind to the woman and her never repaying you in the slightest, not even with being able to have a normal conversation with you. And so the words following practically burst out of you ,,You know you don't have to do it with me, considering you hate me so much'' you huff in annoyance, trying hard to ignore the lump in your throat before turning on your heels and walking off, not necessarily in the mood to hear the words that would probably follow. To your surprise, Natasha turns around at your words, her eyebrows raised, not in anger but in shock as she certainly didn't expect you to be this forward as usually you are always kind, quiet around her and she knew you cared about her feelings and wellbeing due to the little acts you would do for her.

,,I don't hate you Y/N'' is what she really wanted to say, despite having some line ready about ,,Stop being ridiculous, it's a mission and we have to stay professional''. The words simply get caught in her throat as you leave and she can't help but feel bad for having sent you away like this. Truth to be told, Natasha didn't hate you, she felt intimidated by another female Avenger who shared the same abilities than her. You were clever, had some great instincts and you for sure could fight. She never minded the backup at first and she felt some strange connection between you two despite not really knowing all that much about you. However, she hated when it eventually turned into you getting all the missions she desired, despite the stubborn redhead deep down knowing that it wasn't your fault, that you never bragged, never asked Tony and that you probably wouldn't have minded giving some of them to her. With a roll of her eyes, mostly towards herself, she continues doing some of her training, trying to ignore the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach for how this conversation went.

Eventually the avengers find themselves in the dining room, it being pizza night everyone actually joining this time. The sun was slowly setting in the background, coating the room with several large glass windows in beautiful shapes of orange and yellow. As they all flow into easy conversation, your absence doesn't go unnoticed. Especially Wanda knows you absolutely adored Pizza night and the concern was practically written across her face as she hadn't seen you since the meeting hours before. Despite trying to tell herself that this was probably due to you wanting to get some rest, she still couldn't help but feel concerned. ,,Hey Wands, have you seen Y/N?'' the voice from Clint rings through the air, startling the witch a little as she almost clumsily drops her plate. ,,No I haven't'' she almost frowns and she misses how a certain redhead follows the conversation, also having noticed your absence and despite her not knowing about your adoration for pizza night, she had noticed.

,,I'll check on her'' Wanda announces and Natasha watches as she retrieves some slices of your favourite pizza before heading off. ,,You alright there?'' Clint asks as he takes a seat besides Natasha, gladly accepting one of the beer cans Thor handed him. ,,Yeah'' she absentmindedly announces, avoiding his gaze. ,,Ready for your mission then?'' he trails off, causing Natasha to meet his gaze as she simply nods. ,,You know what they say Paris is beautiful'' he begins as he takes another bite of his pizza. ,,And after all, maybe the two of you will actually get to know each other better'' he encourages which Natasha mostly ignores, not necessarily in the mood for this conversation and her being ever the perceptive one, having of course noticed the knowing glances and smirks from the others about this mission and your usual bickering.

Meanwhile a soft knocking startles you a little as you finish sending the last bit of your mission report, muttering a soft ,,Come in'' before laying eyes upon a certain ginger. ,,Hi Wands'' you chuckle a little as you watch her carry in a plate of pizza for you. ,,Are you alright? you're missing pizza night honey'' she announces, her voice soft but laced with concern nevertheless. ,,Sorry just finished these reports and was hoping to get an early night'' you exclaim, gladly taking the plate as she takes a seat at the edge of the mattress. ,,How are you feeling about it?'' she asks curiously, her eyes reading your expression before you huff. ,,I don't know'' you sigh before taking a large bite of your favourite pizza, your mouth instantly watering. ,,I'm sure it will be okay'' she announces softly, tilting her head a little as her green eyes meet yours. ,,She hates me you know'' you sigh again after swallowing. ,,She doesn't hate you darling'' Wanda assures, of course knowing who you are talking about.

,,She's always hated me and I think I hate her too'' you begin and you notice her shocked expression as this was quite unlike you. ,,Come on zlatko you don't hate her'' she tries as you really didn't feel hatred towards anyone or anything other than maybe the villains and scum you fought on missions and spiders. Of course the witch had noticed the tension between you two but she couldn't help and notice the connection you two have and having seen this type of thing a few times before. ,,I think I do Wands'' you sigh again, trying to ignore the anger bubbling out of you. ,,I have always been nice to her and she always treats me like I'm nothing'' you huff, chewing your pizza angrily which causes Wanda to giggle a little. ,,I think this mission will help you two'' she recalls, speaking as if she was very sure of her words. ,,Now get some rest'' she tries before giving you a reassuring smile and leaving you to rest.

Unfortunately rest never really arrived, as the whole night you ended up tossing and turning in bed, not being able to shake the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach and the ,,what ifs'' about the upcoming mission. And so to no surprise, you almost stumble into the kitchen the next morning, dropping your bags on the floor as you would need to leave any moment, before walking over to the coffee machine, barely awake before bumping into something. As you rub at your sleepy eyes, still yawning a little, your vision slowly fills with shades of black and red and your eyes widen as you realise you stumbled into the woman who you would go on a mission with in a few moments. ,,Shit I'm sorry'' you curse, taking a step back as she looks over your tired features with an eyebrow raised. ,,Seems like your well rested for this'' she sarcastically remarks, taking her coffee before leaving and you can't help but roll your eyes at her antics before making a coffee, grabbing one of the Iron man to go cups that Tony stacked in the kitchen and walking outside with your bags.

,,Good luck to you two, I'm sure it will be an epic one'' Tony remarks as you both pass him, Wanda giving you a reassuring smile despite frowning a little seeing your sleeping state. To both of your surprise, it's simply a quinjet with some supplies, no one is joining either of you and so as you two step inside, both of your eyes land on the seat with the controls and you knew this was gonna be one hell of a fight. ,,I assume you'll be flying?'' you remark, settling for the seat next to that one. ,,Yes, one I'm the better flyer and two I can't let you fly in this state'' she speaks before setting into her seat and strapping herself in. You simply ignore her words, before getting settled yourself, taking a sip of your coffee before glancing out the window and seeing the avengers compound slowly become smaller and smaller in the distance and with the increase of altitude.

Your eyes occasionally glance at the slightly older woman and you can't help but notice how badass she truly looked, already wearing her usual outfit and her red hair glowing. She looks very focused as she flies the jet with ease and despite the hatred you felt towards her, you couldn't ignore the feeling in your stomach, pushing it off for feeling hungry as you skipped breakfast. Eventually you lean back on your seat and Natasha glances at you, seeing you softly and soundly asleep beside her and she tries hard to fight back the little smile escaping her lips, seeing you so sleepy and adorable. Paris was for sure quite the distance and so it takes several hours before you make it remotely close, Natasha having eventually settled on auto pilot and equally relaxing in her seat. As soon as your eyes open, you stretch a little, feeling embarassed to have fallen asleep and already knowing this wouldn't have gone unnoticed by the redhead. As soon as she notices you awake, she stiffens in her seat, putting her hands back on the wheel and her eyes darting towards you. ,,You know if I had fallen asleep, we would be screwed right now'' she remarks and you simply take a deep breath, before walking towards the back.

,,Here'' you offer after a few moments, passing her a protein bar, assuming she also hadn't eaten since leaving. Her green eyes meet yours and she looks at the bar as if you had poisoned it. ,,Fine, more for me'' you huff as she hesitates before pushing one into your mouth, hoping it would fill you up. ,,You didn't poison it?'' she questions, jokingly before you roll your eyes. ,,No, here'' you offer it again and this time she takes it, taking hesitant bites. ,,So what is this mission exactly?'' you ask, really not having too many details about this. ,,No idea, I have an adress for the hotel and a target to observe'' she remarks as she looks at her Ipad, connected to the cockpit. ,,Okay sounds good'' you remark. There's a few moments of silence before you speak again ,,Ever been? to Paris I mean?'' you question before she looks at you for a brief second. ,,Nope.. you?'' she asks before you think back to your earlier days in europe mostly.

,,Yes'' you simply say, trying to fight back the flashbacks of your past. ,,Is it nice?'' she questions and you aren't sure if she's actually trying to make conversation or not. ,,I didn't really get to see a lot of it'' you trail off ,,I spent many years in europe, forced to work for an organisation'' you explain and her face grows a little serious, as your words remind the redhead of her own past and not remotely knowing about yours. ,,I'm sorry Y/N'' she speaks sincerly and this time for the first time in a very long time it feels genuine and if, even for a split second, getting to see the real Natasha Romanoff.

,,Five minutes out'' the redhead eventually breaks the silence, causing you to nod and focus on your mission rather than the hauntings of your past. With practiced ease Natasha lands the jet in a remote area, where a car is already waiting for you, keys inside which Tony surely arranged. After putting the suitcases and gear in the trunk, Natasha glances at you before throwing you the keys. ,,Your turn'' she speaks and you simply nod before settling into the drivers seat. The car ride is silent for a while as you drive through the Parisian suburbs before eventually making it to the busier areas, having driven in europe many times and therefore knowing your way. Before too long, the two of you arrive at a fancy looking hotel, a white old looking building with a valet who is quick to take your keys and someone offering you a hand with the bags.

By the large swinging doors, both you and Natasha are already greeted, quickly handed two key cards with a room number and being pointed towards the elevator door. You are the first one to realise that they gave both you and Natasha the same room numbers and your eyebrows furrow whether this may be the hideout rather than where you would be staying. It takes a minute longer for Natasha to realise as the two of you find yourself in front of the same door, stepping inside and finding a spacious hotel room, however only one bedroom with a large double bed. ,,What is this?'' she huffs before the beeping from her tablet rings through the air. Before too long she accepts a call from Tony, before he appears through a projection in front of you both. ,,Hi girls, nice journey?'' he questions with a smug smile. ,,What is this Tony?'' Natasha questions, very much not amused by the hotel room. ,,This is where you'll be staying, more intel will follow'' he explains and Natasha simply rolls her eyes. ,,Tonight I need you both at a dinner, checking out the place''' and you simply nod, listening to his instructions.

,,For your undercover identity, you are newlyweds and this is your honeymoon, rings are in the bedside table draw'' he smirks before his projection quickly leaves a very confused you and very annoyed Natasha behind. ,,Great'' she huffs before setting her bags down on a nearby floor. ,,So married and only one bed?'' you question rhetorically, hoping to lighten the mood a little but the redhead is having none of it. ,,You can take the bed'' she announces stubbornly before slumping into the small and uncomfortable looking sofa. ,,No it's okay, you can have the bed'' you try but the stubbornness practically radiates from the black widow. ,,Used to sleeping on the floor'' she announces and you simply shrug your shoulders, knowing this isn't a fight you would be able to win. ,,Fine'' you announce before taking your bags to the bedroom, before reaching for your laptop and reading up a little bit more on the mission and trying to find out more about the dinner and your target.

After some reading and much needed rest, you eventually open one of the suitcases that was left in the quinjet, having your name written on it. Inside you find a small silenced gun, as well as a fancy looking black suit, a white shirt and some shiny shoes. It certainly wasn't what you assumed would be inside but nevertheless you get dressed, the Parisian sunset coating your room in shades of dark orange and red. After a shower, you get yourself dressed, hiding the gun inside the blazer jacket before stepping out of the bedroom and finding Natasha in the other room, adjusting her dress and the sight almost takes your breath away. The redhead is wearing a long black dress, some sparkly details on it, the matching heels, her hair perfectly styled. Subconsciously your jaw drops a little as she looked absolutely breathtaking, adjusting her hair one more time before turning towards you, having noticed your presence of course. A little smirk coats her features as the outfit choices were quite something. She simply looks at you before reaching for the matching purse before asking ,,Ready?'' for which you simply nod and follow the redhead towards the car.

Considering the heels, you opted for driving again and despite it not taking too long, you couldn't help but feel a little taken back by the scene, Paris lit up in beautiful colours as the sun had set a little while ago and the sky being filled with stars by now. You even manage to catch a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, the seine and countless people sitting alongside it and enjoying the night sky. Your eyes occasionally dart towards the woman sitting beside you and you simply act as if you tried to look out the window whenever she catches you, despite her green eyes equally darting towards you, as undeniably she also enjoyed the view. ,,Here we are'' you announce after parking and considering the outfit Tony had chosen for you and your undercover objective, you act gentlemen like, opening the door to the car for Natasha, as well as the door of the restaurant before stepping inside. She plays along of course, always staying professional, thanking and smiling at you almost in adoration, playing the role of your wife perfectly.

,,Bonsoir'' a waiter greets you, before you smile politely ,,Reservation for Smith'' you announce, wanting nothing more than to roll your eyes for the name Tony had chosen for this one. ,,Certainly, if you follow me'' he announces before walking the two of you towards the table. ,,After you darling'' you mock a little, letting Natasha follow him first and she simply smirks at you and you knew you would certainly hear about this later. ,,Would you like an appetiser?'' he asks after leading you to the table and you simply help Natasha to get settled in her chair before speaking again ,,I think Champagne sounds great, what do you think darling?'' you question and she simply nods before the waiter leaves with your order. ,,I'm going to kill you once this mission is over'' she speaks through gritted teeth and you can't help but chuckle as you place a comforting hand on her shoulder, quite enjoying this little game of this undercover mission supposedly your honeymoon.

The objective for this mission was somewhat simple, Tony and the others assumed some people owning or working for this restaurant belonging to some organisation that they had chased for a long time. And so both you and Natasha are supposed to explore the place a little, check for anything unusual, maybe even scoop around for a little bit tonight before some more objectives in the following days. ,,Cheers darling, to our first night in Paris'' you announce, holding your glass up after the waiter had brought over your drinks and taken your orders. ,,Cheers honey'' Natasha mocks you, staying in her role perfectly despite her eyes speaking a very different story. The two of you eventually settle into some easy conversation, trying to act like a normal married couple on their honeymoon, sometimes sharing fake loving glances, placing a subtle hand on Natasha's cheek or her hand lingering on your leg. As the meal progresses, neither you or Natasha had noticed anything unusual or out of the ordinary, it seemed like a normal five star restaurant, the staff friendly, other guests equally seeming normal and going on about their nights and tasks.

,,Noticed anything unusual yet?'' she whispers a little as she pretends to kiss your cheek, her mouth ghosting over your ear. You simply shake your head, your stomach greeting you with an unfamiliar feeling as you feel her lips ghost over your ear. Swallowing hard, you simply shake your head before speaking again ,,I'll go check downstairs'' you speak after a little bit and Natasha simply nods as she watches you leave towards the staircase and bathrooms.

Downstairs you find the bathrooms, inspecting those a moment before passing by some supply rooms and the kitchen, quickly checking out the place but finding nothing unusual and simply returning to your table. Natasha gives you a questioning look but you simply shake your head, causing for confusion to fill her features. ,,Can I offer you some desserts?'' the waiter returns and you glance at Natasha who reclaims her role of the loving wife perfectly, passing you the menu ,,You choose my love'' she speaks, almost in a perfect british accent. You smile politely before ordering you both some dessert and the waiter once again off. ,,Did you enjoy your food?'' you ask and she simply nods before asking whether you did too. The remainder of the evening goes by fast, the two of you finishing dessert before eventually getting the bill, deciding without words that there was nothing else to explore before eventually returning to the car.

,,Well that was..'' you begin speaking before she sighs ,,Exhausting'' she finishes your sentence which causes you to frown a little. ,,You didn't enjoy it? you for sure played the loving wife role perfectly'' you smirk a little but she simply rolls her eyes, quick to take off her heels that you assume hurt by now. ,,I don't understand what Tony's aim is here, there was nothing'' you sigh in frustration a little and she simply nods, her features stern, before the two of you return towards your hotel. Arriving there, Natasha is quick to storm towards the bathroom, soon after the shower running in the distance and you settle into bed after getting changed. ,,You sure about the floor?'' you ask as you watch her return with some sweatpants, a hoodie, holding a towel and drying off her wet hair. ,,Yes'' she huffs as she brushes past you, before you simply turn around, quickly drifting off to sleep as the day had been long and the lack of sleep from the night prior.

The stubborn redhead isn't as quick to settle however, she tried the sofa first, however it was so small that she couldn't keep her legs on it and they simply kept sliding down. Eventually, she decided for the floor, retrieving a mat from her bag and a pillow and blanket that you had left on the sofa for her. She ends up tossing and turning for hours, unable to sleep a wink as her back hurt, despite the luxurious hotel, the floor undeniably uncomfortable. It was no lie when she said she was used to sleeping on the floor, however she hadn't slept on a floor mostly since joining the avengers. Her pride gets in the way as she faces an internal battle before eventually muttering ,,Screw this'' and retrieving the pillow and blanket before walking into the bedroom, setting into the space next to you, making sure you are asleep, hoping if she gets up early enough, you would never notice. She makes sure there is enough space between you two as she lays right on the corner of the side that she had claimed.

By the time Natasha wakes next, the sun is already streaming through the windows and white curtains and her eyes widen a little as she notices your arm wrapped around her, as you lay on your side, your face buried in your pillow, a leg loosely draped around the blanket. The redhead remains quiet, knowing if she moved even an inch now, she would instantly wake you and therefore ultimately admit that she was too stubborn to sleep on the floor after all and joined you in bed a few hours ago. The sound of your alarm blaring, wakes you a few minutes later and as you open your eyes and realise what is happening, you quickly jolt away from her embrace. ,,Shit- I- I'm sorry'' you apologise. ,,It's okay'' she speaks almost softly before she makes her way out of bed and towards the bathroom.

,,Sofa or floor too uncomfortable after all?'' you smirk a little proudly as she returns before she simply rolls her eyes at your antics. ,,Not even coffee this is shit'' she curses under her breath, noticing the absence of a coffee machine. A knock quickly interrupts you two and Natasha is quick to draw her knife, in her usual spot by her ankles, before she walks towards the door. ,,Room service'' a friendly woman with a thick French accent announces, before handing Natasha a tray with some coffee and breakfast. ,,I hope you are enjoying Paris and your honeymoon'' she speaks softly before Natasha forces a smile, hiding the knife in her sleeves. ,,By the way if you.. you know wish to not be disturbed, the sign is just here for the maid'' she explains with a wink, glancing between you both. Natasha's cheeks burn red before smiling politely and closing the door and putting the tray on a nearby table.

,,Jesus Natasha it's only room service, no need to kill the poor woman'' you chuckle before taking one of the coffee cups and having a sip. ,,You can never be too careful'' she shrugs her shoulders, before reaching for a croissant and coffee before disappearing onto the small balcony and soaking in some of the sun, clearly not wanting to be anywhere near you, unless necessary for the mission.

,,I spoke to Tony, looks like a stakeout today'' you tell her a little while later as she remains on the balcony, dressed for the day by now. ,,Let's go then'' she announces, reaching for her things before you follow her towards the car. The next few hours are mostly spent in silence as the two of you watch the building that you are meant to watch, not remotely seeing anything unusual or the target that Tony had described and given you intel on. You could tell Natasha was growing impatient as this mission really hadn't given you anything yet, her fingers angrily tap against the wheel, her leg bouncing up and down ever so slightly. ,,I'm going for a walk'' you announce and she barely acknowledges your statement. You had spotted a little boulangerie nearby and so after a few minutes, you return with two coffees and some pastries. ,,Here'' you offer her and her green eyes suddenly meet yours as she takes the coffee and pastry. You could tell she was grateful as she relaxed a little, her legs having stopped bouncing by now. But you also knew Natasha lacked any way of showing you gratitude but you didn't mind, feeling like you know the redhead quite well after all.

,,Anything you want to talk about?'' you ask, feeling yourself grow a little bored as you finish the coffee and pastry a little while later. Her eyebrow raises as she glances at you, scoffing at first thinking you are joking. ,,Y/N, what do you think this is? girls talk and braiding our hair afterwards?'' she questions sarcastically before her eyes dart back towards the building. ,,I mean.. we could?'' you question, your expression almost adorable and she can't help but chuckle at your antics. Another half an hour of silence follows before she speaks again ,,Fine tell me something about yourself then Y/N'' she huffs, growing increasingly bored as the minutes pass and lack of actions. ,,Did you know that I'm an avenger?'' you joke, smiling at her almost smugly and she can't help and again raise her eyebrows and hide the smirk. ,,Oh really, no I didn't know that..'' she remarks ,,Tell me how is that going for you?'' she questions fake curiously and you think about it for a moment.

,,I'm not sure, I like it and I like the others'' you explain before her eyes meet yours ,,But?'' she holds your gaze as she questions you, noticing the hesitation in your voice. ,,I guess I imagined it differently you know? I never really belonged and I assumed being part of it makes me sort of belong? but I guess that's stupid'' you sigh before glancing out the window, some tears lingering in your eyes at the sudden admission and definitely not expecting those words to fall from your lips. Natasha is left speechless for a moment, over the last few days with you, having learnt that you equally didn't have a family, you were practically raised by a terrorism group and hence had quite the traumatic past, almost matching her own. ,,You do belong Y/N'' she reassures, the same feeling settling in the gut of her stomach, similar to some other incidents she had with you before. ,,Don't pity me Natasha, we both know you hate me'' you sigh biting your lips a little anxiously. Before the redhead can respond, she is again cut off, similar to the other time you had said those words to her as you notice a suspicious person exciting the building, wearing black clothes and a hood. ,,Watch out'' you quickly announce, pulling the redhead away from her thoughts, her expression turning from a serious one to a focused one.

Natasha doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and following the man slowly, until he eventually walks into a building, leaving both you and Natasha, once again camping out in the car and watching carefully. ,,Y/N- I-'' she begins speaking after a while but you stop her as your hand raises slightly, your senses quickly alerting you of something or someone present as you close your eyes and try to focus your attention on whatever your body was trying to tell you. ,,What is it?'' she asks seriously, having seen that same expression on your face on missions a few times and knowing what it means. ,,We are being watched'' you quickly announce before the redhead glances out the window, trying to find the source, before a few shots are being fired towards your car and both of you quickly ducking to avoid those.

In a swift motion, you exit the car, leaning your back against it before carefully glancing towards the building again. As your eyes scan the unfamiliar surroundings, they dart towards the front door of the building, the same man from before sprinting out the door, dressed in black, wearing a hood and carrying a gun in his hands as he walks away. The black widow watches as you sprint away ,,For fucks sake Y/N'' she mutters under her breath as she watches you chase him, without her. She is quick to start the car again, knowing from experience there was no point in you both chasing the suspect on foot. As you try to catch up with him, assuming this must have been the target Tony had mentioned, despite the description and clues not quite adding up, he occasionally glances behind, firing some sloppy shots in your direction but you are experienced enough to dodge them.

Approaching an alley, your heart practically beats out of your chest as he cuts into a corner, more shots fired in your direction and a bullet gently grazing your skin but not enough to enter you. ,,Shit'' you curse before collecting all of your strength and eventually catching up with him. You watch the familiar car stopping abruptly in front of him, cutting off all the ways for him to escape. Natasha glances at you, gesturing towards you whether you are okay and you simply nod before she is quick to exit the car and tackle him to the floor. As she does, he doesn't only drop his weapon but you also find several different drugs on him. Your eyebrows furrow as Natasha uncovers his secret, as Tony would have mentioned this if this was the mission objective. As the two of you have him cuffed on the floor, the redhead is quick to call Iron Man himself, informing him of what had happened. While she takes a few steps away, you glance towards your shoulder, noticing a piece of your clothing slightly ripped, assuming from the bullet gracing you. As you gently pull your shirt down your shoulder, you notice a scratch and some blood but nothing serious and so you quickly adjust yourself as Natasha finishes the phone call.

,,You won't believe this'' she chuckles sarcastically as she glances between you and the guy on the floor. She gestures you to walk towards her so he couldn't hear. ,,Not our target'' she mutters and your eyebrows furrow yet again. ,,So why was he shooting at us and why did we happen to be here?'' you ask slightly dumbfounded, having seen a lot in your line of work but never a coincidence of this kind. ,,I assume he figured we followed him and thought we were cops'' she shrugs before glancing at him again. ,,Feds are on their way'' she announces before you nod. ,,You okay?'' she asks, noticing how you are still a little out of breath. In return you simply nod and smile at her, before getting back to the car, wanting to catch your breath.

After another hour, the two of you finally make it back to your hotel room, the sun again having set by now and nothing else on your agenda for the day. The redhead agreed to let you use the shower first and as the cold water eloped your skin you felt a little at ease after the day you had. The mission so far really hadn't been bad, the encounter today nothing you aren't used to by now, given your past and work alongside the avengers. However it irritated you, still nowhere close to gathering any information, despite you and Natasha undeniable the best at this sorta thing. It infuriated you a little, even causing you to doubt your abilities that after several days you still had no clues, that the investigating and your abilities hadn't alerted you of anything so far. I mean there was no pressure, Tony wasn't pushing but you still feel a little defeated. As you get dressed, your thoughts travel to your partner for the mission and how it really hadn't been all that awful so far, despite Natasha clearly hating you but even after everything for some reason you couldn't hate her and you didn't understand why.

As soon as you finished, you collapsed into bed, despite the busy and loud streets outside still filling your hotel room with the occasional noises, the days and thoughts had tired you out, causing you to quickly fall asleep. Natasha had missed you slipping out the bathroom and pathetically knocked a few times before finding it unlocked and eventually finding you in bed. At first she gave the sofa another go, quickly regretting that choice before trying the floor. However, her thoughts kept circling, first about the mission and how it was failing so far, eventually about you, what you had told her about your past, what it was like for you being part of the avengers and she couldn't help the guilt consuming her. She couldn't help but feel like she made you feel that way, the constant bickering, the constant distance towards you and her being cautious and vary of you at first. Over the last few days she feels like she has really gotten to know you, the fact your past and pain was so similar and undeniably that you had impressive abilities, catching the guy today and connecting the pieces. If it wasn't for you, there would have been a high chance of her getting hurt today as she missed the guy, missed the shots and if it wasn't for you noticing and ducking both her and your own head, she knows it could have ended very differently.

And so after several hours of her thoughts circling, she again mumbles the same words ,,Screw it'' before walking towards the bedroom, finding you already asleep on your stomach, your upper body exposed as you are wearing a tank top, the red scratch on your shoulder visible and some faded scars. Natasha carefully crawls into the same positions she had slept in the night before, closing her eyes and soon drifting off to sleep, the thoughts finally quiet, the circling having stopped after being near you. Your presence made her feel safe tonight, even though she would never admit it, not to you or herself.

A few hours later, you shuffle slightly as the sun coating your hotel room, softly wakes you from your slumber. At first you feel how stiff and tired your body still feels from the day prior, feeling the scratch on your shoulder throbbing a little before feeling an unfamiliar weight on your body. As you carefully open your eyes you see red hair first before realising. Natasha was laying on your shoulder, her arm draped around your stomach, almost as if she was holding onto you, shielding you from something. Realising the situation your eyes quickly shoot open, eyebrows furrowing as if to figure out whether you are dreaming. Next you feel the familiar sensation in your stomach, your heart fluttering in your chest a little and you can't help the slight smirk playing on your lips, considering this was the second night of finding Natasha in your bed and undeniably loving the fact that the roles are reversed and she is now the one sleepily cuddling into you. If you could, you would take some photos as proof as she would undeniably never speak of this and act like this never happened, probably even threaten to kill you if you ever dared mention this to anyone or her. But nevertheless you enjoy it and so you close your eyes again for a moment, enjoying the warmth both from the sun drawing in from the curtains but also the redhead still sleepily holding onto you.

A knock on your door startles you a little while later and you quickly shuffle and escape Natasha's grip on you, as you walk towards the door. The redhead is quick to wake as well, of course having seen and felt glimpses of her holding onto you before she is quick on her feet, knowing it was room service but not necessarily trusting this mission. ,,Breakfast Miss'' the same woman informs you and hands you the familiar tray and you simply thank her and smile before taking the tray and closing the door. As you take it towards the little table, you find Natasha standing by the door, watching you carefully.

,,Captain America Boxers really?!'' she remarks and suddenly your face goes bright red after setting the tray down, noticing how you never changed into any pyjamas the night prior. ,,Um yeah they are comfortable'' you try to play it cool, hiding your face as you reach the coffee and take a sip. ,,Wait so you are staring at my ass'' you smirk amusedly, you now the one making the Russian's cheeks glow red. ,,No I- it's just'' she huffs, rolling her eyes at your antics. You watch as she shoves one of the croissants into her mouth before you speak again ,,If it makes you feel any better, there are no Black Widow ones, you really should talk to your marketing team'' you chuckle causing her green eyes to meet yours. ,,So you're telling me you would wear those?'' she asks with a raised eyebrow. ,,Course I would'' you smirk, enjoying this a little too much. ,,Just imagine how much nicer it would be to stare at my ass if it was you on it'' you smirk before she throws the other croissant towards you. ,,I'm so going to tell Steve about this'' she remarks with a grin.

----

Within the next few days in Paris both Natasha and you have grown more frustrated by the minute, you had returned to the restaurant, the building from the day before and following up with the compound for any leads but there was nothing. Nothing suspicious, no clues and pretty much no objective. At first Natasha had doubted whether Tony may have gotten the whole location wrong, insisting for him to check again. Eventually the two of you simply fell into the same routine, checking out the same places throughout the day but equally taking breaks. One day, the two of you decided to walk alongside the seine and sit by the river for a while, despite it mostly being in silence you enjoyed it. Another day, Natasha managed to get a motorbike for the night and took you to the same restaurant again, on the way back going a different route so the two of you would pass the sparkling Eiffel tower. And undeniably it had been magical, you couldn't help but feel closer to the redhead and you aren't sure what happened exactly, maybe the fact that she didn't throw sarcastic remarks at you every two seconds, instead actually allowing conversations with you.

There was that one moment however, the night prior to this one when you knew. Natasha was zooming past the lit Eiffel Tower, the lights illuminating the city and people and cars around you. Despite the speed, everything seemed to have stopped for a moment and while you held onto the redhead you knew for some reason. You felt it in your heart then and in that moment as everything stood still your brain knew. Suddenly it all made sense to you, why you felt so comfortable around her, why you had always tried to be so nice to her, always taking how she feels seriously despite her being so closed off. Why you didn't and really couldn't hate her because you cared about the redhead deeply. It felt bittersweet as the realisation rippled through you, knowing the redhead could and would never see you this way, her having made her intentions with you quite clear in the past and despite the little moments with her and feeling like you had gotten to see some real glimpses of the woman and the person behind the walls and facade, it killed you a little, the sudden realisation almost paralysing you as you drowned in the intensity of it all.

Your last night in Paris and this time you couldn't sleep a wink, eventually leaving bed and settling with a blanket on the little balcony, watching the city at night and you finally understood then why they had called it the city of light as despite the darkness of the night it felt alive. ,,Y/N?'' the voice of Natasha startles you, causing you to jolt as you had sat there in the cold for what feels like hours. As your tired eyes look up, you find her standing next to you tilting her head slightly as if to observe you and figure out what you are doing. ,,Are you alright?'' she asks, her voice laced with concern however, the coldness you are feeling draws that bit out. ,,Fine'' you remark, still staring into the distance. The black widow remains there for a second, thinking whether to give you space and leave you be, knowing if the roles were reversed she would want to be alone, however something within told her to stay. And so she simply sits beside you, the small balcony causing for your shoulders to touch as she stares into the distance with you. ,,What's on your mind Y/N?'' she asks after another moment of silence.

,,I'm okay'' you try again, not meaning to sound cold or to send her away but you had no idea how to voice your feelings or how much you both hated and loved this mission at the same time. ,,You don't seem okay'' she remarks, still staring into the distance with you. ,,It really doesn't matter'' you huff, trying to fight back the tears forming in your vision both from frustration and lack of sleep. ,,It does to me'' she almost whispers and at first the words don't register and when they do you can't help but chuckle almost bitterly. ,,Why would it?'' you exhale before adding ,,You hate me''. This time Natasha paused, feeling a pang of guilt in her heart as this was the third time you had repeated those words and the redhead didn't have a chance to set things straight even once. ,,I don't hate you Y/N'' she whispers and this time its barely audible as the avenger didn't enjoy these things, deep conversations, admitting feelings and laying emotions out openly. This time Natasha glances at you, wanting to see your reaction as her green eyes try to find any sign of you believing her words as the thought of you truly thinking so killed her deep down.

However she is met with silence again and so the words flow freely from her lips ,,I care about you no matter what you think''. This time your head snaps towards her, her green eyes locking with yours and you hold her gaze, almost getting a little lost in her eyes as you find nothing but honesty in them. She watches as your eyebrows furrow, trying to understand how closed off and distant she had been at the start, why she had been mean at times, the sarcastic comments when in reality she cared about you. It doesn't add up and not only can Natasha see it in your eyes, she can feel it too as her feelings both overwhelm and confuse her. ,,So.... does that mean you like me after all'' you joke, trying to lighten the mood a little and in return she nudges your shoulder, rolling her eyes in a playful matter. ,,Wouldn't go that far'' she jokes, causing you to giggle which the redhead can't deny was quite adorable.

,,Ready to go home tomorrow, wife?'' you grin at her, offering her your hand and helping her balance on the small balcony. ,,Yes darling'' she jokes putting on the british accent from days before. ,,Let's go to bed then'' you invite and this time Natasha simply follows you and settles on her side. Despite your best attempts in the last few days, Natasha always remained stubborn, you either found her on the small sofa, her legs dangling down the sides or the floor, offering her to join you but she always refused. Yet, every morning when you woke up you found her in bed after all, either you subconsciously holding onto the Russian or her holding onto you and both of your faces startled as you realised, as if it wasn't obvious by now. ,,So am I cuddling you tonight or are you cuddling me tonight?'' you break the silence after a while and if it wasn't so dark you could have seen the smirk spread across her face and the rolling of her eyes yet again. ,,Shut up or I will actually kill you'' she warns.

,,I'd like to see you try, wife'' you chuckle and before you know it, she throws a pillow that had separated the two of you, your way, causing you to squeal a little at the sudden sensation. ,,You're an idiot Y/N'' she remarks. After your giggling quietens down, you turn to face the woman and to your surprise she is already looking at you, her green eyes quickly meeting yours. For some reason you can't help but smile, never thinking for a single moment that this trip would lead to you two not killing each other and ending up in bed with the black widow herself. Natasha watches as your eyes grow heavy, it now being the middle of the night and you barely getting any sleep. She can't help the smile as she watches you try to fight sleep but failing, before soft snores fill the room. ,,My idiot'' she whispers before moving a little closer and wrapping an arm around you.

----

After one last breakfast in Paris and several hours on the quinjet, the two of you finally make it back to the avengers compound, joining the others. Despite the flight being spent with the usual joking and giggling by now, the two of you walked into the meeting room with long faces as the mission really hadn't been all that successful and you both felt like you had failed a little. ,,How was it?'' Wanda asks both concerned and a little excited as she watches you follow behind Natasha, noticing the redheads features almost a little softer around you than usual. ,,It was so great, I can't wait to tell you all about it'' you giggle, causing the witch to smile before following you. As you take a seat beside Natasha, some of the other avengers lingering nearby, you wait for Tony to walk inside. ,,So, Paris?'' he questions, taking some steps around the large table. ,,Not a success'' Natasha remarks sternly, having been upset with Iron Man and the lack of information regarding the mission. ,,I mean come on, you caught a random drug dealer'' he remarks, causing you to glance at Natasha.

,,Did it work?'' Bucky suddenly bursts out, Steve punching him in return, causing you and Natasha to glance towards him confused. ,,Did you finally kiss?'' his words follow after, causing Natasha's features to grow serious. You watch as she connects the pieces, pretty much seconds before you connect it. Hastily she pushes away her chair, her fists banging on the table as she approaches Tony. ,,Don't tell me you sent us on a fake mission'' she hisses before his guilty eyes meet hers. The black widow remains silent, his glance enough to confirm her suspicion and then she walks out, leaving the people in the room behind, stunned and guilty expressions on their faces. They had no bad intentions of course but they had noticed the tension between you two long before you had figured it out, wanting to give you the necessary push but only now realising that maybe making up a whole mission across europe may have been a bit much.

,,Natasha.. Natasha'' you try as you speed out of the room, quickly catching up with her after finding her in the hallway on the way towards the elevator. ,,Are you okay?'' you ask concerned, meeting her features. ,,This is bullshit, a fake mission really?'' she questions, her accent thick as she sighs in frustration. ,,Come on.. it's not too bad, we got to be wife and wife for a week and in Paris of all places'' you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood a little. ,,And we established that in fact you do quite like me'' you add, glancing into her green eyes. Time seems to stand still for a moment as everything around you blurs, Natasha's green eyes suddenly the only thing mattering and the only thing you focus on as her eyes lock with your own. Within seconds you are suddenly much closer than you had originally intended and the lack of distance causes you to stare at the only other thing on your mind, her lips. The redhead studies your features carefully, knowing by now she hadn't read this wrong and after a moment of hesitation she mutters ,,Screw it'' before closing the gap.

As soon as her lips crash onto yours, you again knew. The all too familiar sensation in your stomach, the fluttering of your heart, it all suddenly made sense to you. This was all you had dreamed of, ever since meeting her and despite hating Tony a little you couldn't be more grateful, considering this was due to Paris and getting to know her better. Natasha's lips felt surprisingly soft, despite not taking her for a chapstick kind of girl. The kiss wasn't rough, wasn't needy, it simply felt like everything you two had been trying to tell each other all along. Natasha put everything into the kiss, her longing for you, apologies for how she had treated you at the beginning, realisation that this was what she wanted all along and wanting you to be hers, her idiot, her detka. To hold, to kiss and to cherish for the foreseeable future. ,,My idiot'' she chuckles as you both pull away in search for oxygen, your eyes meeting again and communicating in silence.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #avengers #mcu #avengers: infinity war #avengers : endgame #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #Scarlett johansson #black widow x reader

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vinvantae · 3 days

Text

Enemies (occasionally to lovers) Scenarios with the current grid

with prompts from @koishua

Mostly angst with no resolution, but there’s a bit of fluff sprinkled throughout. Enjoy!

Thank you to @percervall for beta reading for me!! You’re a star ⭐️

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#1 Max Verstappen

The breeze was cool against your skin as you gripped the railing - looking down out over the city below, the music of the nightclub increased for a moment as someone joined you, before being muffled with a quiet click of the door. Your shoulders tensed, you knew exactly who it was - you’d come out here to escape him and he’d followed you.

“Go back inside, Max.” Your jaw clenched, but his footsteps continued until he was beside you, back leaning against the railing. “Didn’t you fucking hear me?”

“I did.” He hummed, arms folded across his chest.

“Then why are you still here?”

His silence caused you to snap your head to look at him, throw a glare in his direction - expecting the same look back. But his eyes were soft, gently flickering across your face - you watched as he swallowed heavily, daring to let his gaze fall to your lips.

Your voice was venomous when you spoke again. "Don't you dare look at me that way. Not now, after every vile thing we've done to each other."

“Listen…”

“No. You don’t get to do this, Max… it’s not fair,” you snapped, “You don’t get to bully me and talk shit about me and then all of a sudden decide you fancy me! We’re not little kids, you can’t grab me by the pigtails and push me down just because you have feelings. You should go.”

Every fibre of Max’s being wanted to protest, tell you that you were wrong - that he wanted to make things right between you, but your tear soaked cheeks were too much for him to handle. So instead he mumbled a quite sorry before leaving you alone with your thoughts. You let your face fall into your hands as you sobbed quietly - you’d always waited for the moment for Max to finally admit his feelings, you just never thought it would go like this.

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#2 Logan Sargeant

His head lifted from his phone as he heard a loud laugh from your side of the garage - your head tossed back as you smacked your engineer on the arm. Logan couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile.

At the start of the season, he hated you. There was no denying it - he was jealous of how talented and likeable you were, how he was always compared to you. So he went out of his way to make you angry, make you scream at him - for just a second of your attention. But after his last DNF, you’d gone out of your way to check on him - give him soft words of encouragement and when your hand briefly ghosted his cheek to get his attention - he was smitten.

“Last time I checked, you guys were at each other’s throats,” a mechanic spoke up, “How come you’re sending heart eyes every time you see her now?”

He couldn’t help the way he blushed, just as you looked over at him - giving him a smile and a small wave. “You know what they say man, it’s a thin line.”

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#3 Daniel Ricciardo

You had to actively bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling as he talked - turning your head away so he couldn’t see your silent protest. He was smug and arrogant and didn’t deserve anyone else giving him the positive attention he so desperately craved.

“Hey, you’re allowed to laugh at my jokes, y’know.” He rolled his eyes, finally spotting you - your eyes fixated on the iPad in your hands.

“I would if they were funny,” you replied, not giving him the satisfaction of even sparing him a glance. You’d made it very clear from the day you met him that you weren’t going to fall for his shit like everyone else and Daniel hated it.

And he was desperate to win you over - he’d caught you smiling before, but you’d never admit it, much rather stomp on his ego - especially when he was already down.

"Fine, continue to act like you hate me," he teased, his dark eyes had a glint in them - throwing you a wink when you finally looked up from your work to roll your eyes. “I know the truth.”

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#4 Lando Norris

Lando was the happiest he’d ever felt, rushing towards his team with the biggest smile on his face - letting their cheers rush through his veins as he dove into their arms. He felt on top of the world and he thought there was nothing that could bring him down - until he was placed on his feet and saw you stood amongst the rest of the team.

He expected some scathing remark about how he’d not even done any overtaking to get the win or that the safety car was the reason but instead you gave him a bright smile.

“That was absolutely phenomenal, Lando. You raced amazingly. Your family, especially your grandma, are so proud of you - I just know it.”

You offered him your hand to shake but in the heat of the moment he wrapped you up in his arms - relishing in the way you didn’t even hesitate to reciprocate, your body fit perfectly against his. He never wanted to let go.

“This is a one-time thing only, don’t let me being nice to you get to your head,” you whispered, giving him one final squeeze.

He pulled back from the hug just enough to look into your eyes, smiling at the pure adoration on your face as you looked at him - your words meaningless. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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#10 Pierre Gasly

There was something about you that irritated Pierre to no end - and he knew exactly what it was. He wasn’t dumb, he knew he was attractive enough to get pretty much any girl he wanted to fold for his attention but you. You would bat your eyelashes and flirt with all of his friends, but when he approached you’d tense up, face falling flat. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to offend you but he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“You’re incorrigible, Pierre,” you hummed nonchalantly, swirling your drink in your glass as his blue eyes followed the long legs of a girl as she waltzed past. “She’s way out of your league.”

"Fuck you."

“I’m flattered, really, but no thanks.”

He groaned and practically slammed his beer down on the counter. “Do you know what I think?”

“Enlighten me.” Your bored tone nearly tipped him over the edge but he held his ground, stepping closer to you - placing a hand over yours, finally getting you to look at him.

“You want me.” You went to protest, but found your breath catching in your throat as he lent in - his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “But you don’t want to be like the other girls… but trust me, you’d never be.”

You placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back - confusion ghosting his features. “I’m not that easy. Try harder… but, nice to feel wanted I suppose.”

He smiled, his heart skipping a beat as your walls finally began to crumble.

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#14 Fernando Alonso

You wanted to scream, throw things, punch a wall - but you couldn’t; you just had to sit there like a good little worker as they read off your schedule for the year. When you had been put forward for your promotion, you hadn’t been expected to be glued to Fernando’s side for every second of every weekend. He noticed your tension as you gathered up your things.

“If you clench your jaw any harder you’re going to break your teeth.” He tried to avoid having a tone, but his voice wasn’t friendly. “I’m not that bad.”

“There are only three things in this world I truly cannot stand,” you hissed, shoving your things into your bag, “You, you and you.”

Fernando frowned. “I don’t understand what you think I’ve done to you.”

“Of course you don’t, your head is too far up your own ass to remember,” you scoffed.

He pressed his hand against the door to stop you opening it, a frown etched into his face - he tilted his head a little. “Tell me what I did, let me fix it.”

You sighed softly, eyes meeting his. “On my very first day, I tried to talk to you and you shoulder barged me out of the way - not even looking back to apologise.”

“I-I… wow, yeah that’s not okay. I’m sorry.”

“You’re too late, Fernando. I can be professional with you but nothing more.” Your voice was small. “Please let me go.”

He stepped aside and held the door for you, watching you scurry away - his heart splintering, hating himself that all of this torment was his own doing. He had to make it right.

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#16 Charles Leclerc

You kicked your shoes off messily as the two of you stepped into the hotel - his lips barely leaving yours for a moment as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He pressed you into the nearest wall and made quick work of your shirt - tossing it over his shoulder without a glance.

Your memory of how you ended up in the situation was hazy, the last thing you remembered was screaming at him for ruining your race - saying he didn’t deserve his podium and now you were desperate for him. Your well known distaste for Charles drowned in the alcohol you’d chugged to get over your disappointment.

The taste of champagne on his tongue was addicting, you could feel yourself being drawn further in as you clumsily worked at his shirt buttons - not wanting to break the kiss. A soft whine escaped your lips when he did just that.

“Your clumsiness never fails to amaze me,” he teased, finishing the job himself before taking your hand in his and dragging you towards the bed. “You’d trip over your own toes if they weren’t attached to your feet.”

With a gentle shove, you find yourself on the mattress - propped up on your elbows as he shimmies your skirt off of your hips. “I hate you, I hope you don’t forget that after tonight.”

As he pushes your thighs apart, a smirk on his face. “I think you’re going to be the one who struggles to remember that, Cherie.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#18 Lance Stroll

It was petty and you knew it - you had a shit car so getting points was usually a pipe dream but when you saw the dark green of his Aston Martin in front of you, it made your blood boil. Despite rarely fighting for points, the two of you were notorious for your on track battles - with more than one incident resulting in a DNF for one, if not both of you.

In the back of your mind, you knew he’d done nothing wrong, he was an okay driver but you were jealous that his seat was so secure because he had a father who loved him so dearly. You had to earn your spot and by god you weren’t going to let some pretty rich boy be better than you.

“There’s a thing called a brake. You can fucking use it, y’know,” he shouted, storming over to you as you climbed out of your car.

“Oh that was all you! There was literally no room. Why would you try and make a move there?”

The Marshalls tried to step between you, but he wasn’t having any of it - he crowded you right against the barrier - the visor of his helmet pushed up so you could see the rage in his dark eyes, his anger only slightly muffled by his helmet. “You just need to accept that you’re a shit driver.”

“I might not be the best, but like hell would I let you be better than me,” you spat.

He placed his hands either side of you - eyes now boring into your soul, as if he was trying to read you, but with your helmet still covering your face and cameras definitely all pointed in your direction, he simply took a step back. “We’ll finish this later.”

You swallowed heavily and nodded, finally letting the Marshalls lead you away…wait, finish what later?

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#20 Kevin Magnussen

You slouched into your chair as you were scolded once again for fighting with Kevin on the track - your teammate sat looking just as pissed off as you, his arms folded across his chest. The two of you had just never clicked, and at some point the apathy turned into anger - it felt like he went out of his way to ruin all of your races when you were supposed to be teammates.

The room fell quiet as the PR team slammed the door behind them, leaving the two of you alone with your thoughts. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, as this time the incident was your fault - you’d shoved him wide at the start and he’d fallen all the way to the back, unable to make up places. It surprised you when he was the one to speak up first.

“Why can’t we just let whatever this pointless rivalry is go?”

“…I can’t even remember how it started,” you said, your cheeks heating up. “Can you?”

He paused for a moment before laughing. “No, I can’t. I’ll try and be a better teammate to you, I swear I just… I don’t know, I like our fights.”

Kevin could’ve sworn his heart was in his throat when your eyes met his, your lips curved into a soft smile. “I do too, let’s just maybe keep them fair, yeah?”

“…yeah. Yeah I can do that.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#22 Yuki Tsunoda

Hate wasn’t a strong enough word for how Yuki felt about you - you were arrogant, smarmy and you looked at him like he was the dirt on the bottom of your shoe. You didn’t even consider him a rival, your car was leagues above his - but whenever you found yourself behind him after a pit stop, he suddenly had the widest car on the grid.

You’d got on the podium, like always, but that didn’t stop steam coming out of your ears as you approached him after the race. “Why do you race me so hard? Your fight isn’t with me… I could’ve won the race if you had an inkling of sportsmanship.”

He shrugged, taking a sip out of his bottle. “If you were as good as you said you were, I wouldn’t be a problem.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re infuriating. Stay in your lane, yeah?”

Yuki placed his bottle down on the nearby wall and began to pat his pockets before sighing dramatically. “Oops, it seems like I’m out of fucks to give.”

Your jaw was practically on the floor as he grabbed his drink and walked away, unable to help the smile on his face - he’d won this round.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#23 Alex Albon

“Hey…”

You looked up from the spot on the floor you were staring at to see Alex standing over you, pity written all over his face. He sat on the ground beside you, bending one knee as you hugged yours to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Not sure, I came to see if you are alright, I guess.” He looked at you, noticing your reddened eyes and sniffling nose.

You frowned. “Why do you even care?”

“I may not like you, but I’m not heartless.” His voice was softer this time. “What that reporter said was over the line, the incident wasn’t even your fault.”

“Might want to pass that along to your best mate, he seems to think it was,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes before any more tears could spill. “…I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, Alex.”

“It don’t, I swear.” He held his hands up defensively, cracking a small smile. “It was a shit thing for them to say and I just want you to know that they’re wrong.”

You looked at him properly, eyes flickering across his features for even a hint that he was talking shit - but he genuinely looked concerned, so you gave him a gentle albeit slightly forced smile. “I’ll be okay, you can go back to being a dickhead.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, giving you a gentle shove on the shoulder making you laugh softly. “Says you… if you need a vent, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

“…thank you, genuinely,” you practically whispered.

You tensed up as he gave your knee a gentle squeeze before standing up, leaving you with your own thoughts - surprised at the affectionate gesture but unable to help the way you had enjoyed it.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#24 Zhou Guanyu

He held his phone in his hands - Nico Hulkenberg to join Sauber in 2025 - but in whose seat? Carelessly, he tossed his phone onto the sofa and groaned into his hands. He knew he had the talent, he was capable, but Alfa Romeo-Sauber had just never given him the car to back him up.

“Hey, so they want you in the media pen in-“ You stopped talking when you saw his defeated stature - head in his hands. “You okay?”

When you were assigned to him as his PR manager at the start of the year, he was desperate for you to like him - but you quickly made it clear you were only here for the cheque. You were blunt, professional and didn’t like to waste a second being personal with him.

“You know about Hulkenberg?” His voice was quiet, refusing to meet your eyes.

You gently sat beside him on the sofa, tucking your notepad into your bag. “No… but I’m sure it’ll work out for you.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“I know.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was definitely pitiful. “But I need you to wipe the miserable look off of your face and get down to the pen. I’ve got work to do so… chin up or whatever. You’ve got 5 minutes.”

You didn’t even look at him as you left the room - reminding him that you just didn’t care.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#31 Esteban Ocon

Your relationship with Esteban wasn't always strained - in fact, when you first met him, you genuinely enjoyed his company. But when he took it upon himself to push your attention to the side to make way for that of younger, prettier girls, you realised he was no different from the others and any positive feelings you had faded.

It definitely didn’t make your job any easier - more often than not, you would be checking your watch as he chatted away. You just wanted to knock some sense into him, remind him that he had a job to do.

“Got somewhere to be?” he practically snorted, as you checked your phone for what must have been the 10th time.

“No seriously, take your time,” you scowled, “Hell’s happy to wait for you, but waste another second of my time and it won't have to.”

He gave the girl he was chatting to a sideways look before finally following you - his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets like a mopey teenager. You could see him considering conversation with you out of the corner of your eye but you tried to focus ahead - not giving him the time of day.

“What happened to us?” His voice was quiet, but you weren’t going to let him get away with it.

“You happened. You decided I wasn’t worth your time anymore, so I’m not going to let you waste mine,” you huffed.

You flinched as he took your bicep in his hand - making you look up at him with a face of what Esteban could only describe as disgust. He didn’t blame you for disliking him, but he could feel you really slipping away and he didn’t want that to happen.

He squeezed your arm, holding you far too close for comfort - his eyes boring into yours. “Can you just let me explain my side?”

You tore your arm from his grip, scowling even further. “Just leave me alone to do my job, Esteban or so help me god I’ll have them pair you with the shittiest intern for the rest of the season.”

He swallowed heavily and nodded - you weren’t expecting him to put up a fight, but still felt the same disappointment you swore you’d never let him make you feel again.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#44 Lewis Hamilton

His hands felt like fire across your body, tracing every inch of your exposed skin as he hauled you in close - you had no idea how you got yourself in this predicament. The man in question was the bane of your existence - every second of the season was spent scrapping with him for the top spot - whether it was on or off track there was nothing but venom between the two of you.

So how you ended up with him in your apartment, hands pushing up the sides of your dress - you didn’t know but you couldn’t get enough. You groaned as his lips met the pulse point on your neck, fingers wound in the expensive fabric of his shirt.

You could feel him smirk against you as a moan escaped you. “God, I fucking hate you, Lewis.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really.”

He chuckled deeply, slotting his knee between your thighs to haul you in closer - pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, pupils blown with lust. Your breath hitched as his thumb brushed across your lip. “Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Before you could call him out, he pressed his lips against yours once again - strong hands cupping your face, allowing your knees to buckle a little. Your breath was stolen away as he pulled back, dark eyes flickering across your face for any more signs of protest, smirking when he saw none - you willingly let him guide you down onto your knees, hand cupping under your jaw - a smug smile on his face.

“Now,” he hummed, pressing his thumb between your lips to part them, “why don’t you be good… and use that mouth for something else instead. Hmm?”

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#55 Carlos Sainz

You were the last person Carlos expected to see when he opened the door to his apartment - any good person would ask if you were okay, but he simply smirked and leant against the doorframe.

“Shut up,” you scolded, pushing past him to step into his place, furiously wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

“Look who’s running back into my arms,” he cooed patronisingly, catching your jacket as you threw it at him. “I told you that I’m irresistible, didn't I?”

“Maybe that’s not why I’m here.”

Carlos chuckled darkly, tossing your jacket to the side so he could take your hips in his hands. “Hermosa, you were supposed to be on a date tonight but yet you’re here with me. I think that’s exactly why you are here.”

Your eyes were wet with tears when you finally met his gaze, but it didn’t even phase him as he slowly stepped you backwards - further into his place.

“So, tell me - what do you want?” He purred softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek to wipe away an escaped tear. “Need me to take care of you, hmm? Help you forget all about that idiot that wasted your time?”

You nodded, unable to speak as he hauled your shirt over your head when the two of you reached his bedroom.

“You sound pretty hot when you shut up, cariño,” he laughed, pushing you against the bed, “but I prefer the pretty noises you make when I have my way with you, let’s hear them.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#63 George Russell

You narrowed your eyes playfully at George as the two of you bickered about who would win in a fight between you and Roscoe. “He’s literally a dog, George. Who loves me, might I add.”

“Which is why he’d beat you. Because you’d go too easy on him,” he teased, his arm draped lazily across your shoulder - the two of you sat outside Mercedes hospitality together. “One look from those sad little eyes and you’d wave the white flag.”

He laughed softly as you jut out your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you softly. George couldn’t believe his luck that not only you wanted to be seen with him but that you loved him. As kids, hell, up until your early 20s, the two of you were non-stop arguing - constantly having to be separated by your mutual friends. But it all changed when you witnessed the crash at Silverstone in ‘22; the way he leapt out of his car with no hesitation to try and help made your heart soar.

“You know…” you hummed softly, “I still don’t really know why I used to despise you.”

George smiled. “I genuinely don't remember. But, it got us here… and I’m quite happy here, aren’t you?”

It was your turn to kiss him. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”

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#77 Valtteri Bottas

Infuriated wasn’t a strong enough word for how you were feeling as Valtteri stood in front of you, practically red in the face as he scolded you for yet something else that wasn’t your fault. You weren��t sure why he disliked you, but from day one with Alfa Romeo, he’d treated you differently from everyone else.

But today, you’d had enough.

“That data could’ve helped me get some points for once, don’t you understand how important it is that-“

“The world could really use some of your famous silence right now,” you cut him off, not regretting it for a moment when you saw his jaw tick. “Have you maybe considered that getting that data… is not my job? Making sure you’ve got a clean kit is not my job. For god’s sake Valtteri, do you even know what my job is?”

His eyes widened. “You… you’re uh-“

“Exactly. So do me a favour, and just take a big fucking step back and reevaluate,” you hissed. “Because I’m out.”

“You’re out?” He frowned.

“I’m going to another team. Effective immediately, that’s what I came to tell you, so you won’t have to deal with my so-called incompetence anymore.”

Valterri just stared at you like he’d seen a ghost, and not willing to wait for anymore scathing comments - you turned on your heel and left, leaving the driver to question every single time he’d scolded you.

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#81 Oscar Piastri

You lay in the medical centre, bright fluorescent lights certainly not helping your headache. It wasn’t a big crash, but you’d still ended up with a nasty case of whiplash - your ears still ringing. As the door swung open, you expected to see the medic, ready to let you go home, but it was in fact Oscar… holding flowers?

“Any time something bad happens to me, you’ve always been there,” he spoke, no anger in his voice - in fact, it almost seemed teasing. “Are you cursing me or something?”

“Not my fault you’re always in my way,” you replied, surprising both Oscar and yourself when you matched his tone. “Flowers?”

“Uh… yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “It looked like a pretty nasty ding you took out there, so I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Oscar’s heart raced with anticipation as you took the bouquet from him, just waiting for you to throw them back in his face. For some reason, despite being the most chilled driver on track, you really got under his skin - and, he hated the cliche of it, but seeing you struggle to get out of your car made him realise - it wasn’t hatred, he had feelings.

"They’re lovely, thank you.” You smiled, genuinely smiled at him. “Are you doing alright?”

He waved off your concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think you took the worst of it… say, uhm, can I take you out to dinner to apologise?”

You tilted your head. “You’re actually taking the blame for the crash? Oscar-“

“Please.”

You bit your lip, letting yourself study his face for a moment - his usual calm expression was replaced with something you didn’t recognise. “Yeah, okay, I’d like that.”

His smile alone was worth it - you don’t think you’d ever seen it directed at you, and it felt good.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Hope you enjoyed 🥰

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opal-owl-flight · 16 hours

Note

I absolutely adore your agent lore SO MUCH it feels really canon to me, just in a darker and realistic way!!

I am kind of wondering what your thoughts are on octavio, especially in this verse- if you have any of course LMAO 👍 so fair if you don't he just lives in my braincells rent free.

"You. Were not so different, you and I."

"|Shut. Up. Dont compare yourself to me. I did everything for this fragile world. A world you yourself almost destroyed twice.|"

"Aah, so did I, young squid. So did I."

3 rounds on the imprisoned geezer. Some thanks he got, after saving the world. The Captain was almost as bad as their old superior.

He only crosses his arms tighter as they clacked their beak.

"|The destruction of my world does not justify yours' survival.|"

Theres a dry chuckle from within the glass globe.

"Which world has the zapfishes. Which world is close to the sky? Which world allows everyone to...act the way you do. That annoyingly fresh attitude that just rubs in our face how much better you have it."

3s looking more unsure now, their hands clasping tight on their arms whenever theyre not signing. Thats a surprise.

"Mm. Do you understand, agent?"

The hesitance disappears, and their eyes and spots glint threateningly. "|Im the Captain now, and I will prefer to be referred to as such.|"

The king rolls his eyes. Mocks a salute.

"Stuffy kid. Damn. Alright, Captain.

Let me illuminate it a little more clearly for you.

You train your agents to keep my people underground. Sometimes, to the point of breaking their spirit. Because you want to keep them safe -- from me, from my troops, from anything the rough seas can throw at em. Right?"

"|I dont do it like you do. Hypnosis? Mind control? Eight ran away because of that!|"

"Who told you I used that on my entire nation? Damn old fool, that Craig.

As for your "Agent Eight"...

that one...

...had her reasons.

I hold no ill will towards her, or the others, for running.

In fact, I dont blame them one bit."

3 squints.

"They wanted a life that I cannot provide.

Its hard, underground. Constant energy crisis. Constant food shortage. Constant resource depletion. Who would stay? Except those who want to make it a better world to live in?

And you, Captain. What would you do in my place?"

And they stay quiet...

Before their voice rasps through a low hiss.

"Act...in a way... you wont."

"Hoh! So you can speak! Impressive.

But you know youd do similar. Ive heard how much Agent 4 hates your guts. Its not as easy being a leader, isnt it."

3 hisses louder, balling their fists.

"I...am not...you."*

"Yes. You. Are." The king presses his tentacles on the glass. "I did all I did for my fragile world. I continue to run my nation the way I do so everyone stays safe from the danger YOU bring. You and the REST of your nation. My troops are family. My troops are all Ive got."

He casts a glance at 4 (pre-Captain my Captain), who was approaching for her training.

"Even if they end up hating me."*

3 catches 4s gaze.

"Even if they end up deserting."

4 turns her gaze away, to look directly at Octavio.

"Do you understand?"

Now its 3 who looks, understanding dawning in their eyes.

Hes right.

"I must do what I need to, even if it hurts me. Id risk my life, my honor, my everything, for my people.

If I dont, who else will?"

3 thinks of the times theyd swooped in to save the newly returned 4 from hazards in the newer missions. The verbal and physical abuse from her beak and fists. The way they had to give her easier missions despite saying that it was tougher, just so shed have a more gradual growth. Have higher chances of surviving. Even if...underhanded.

4 herself breaks the silence, and their train of thought.

"Talking to the damn geezer again, Captain?"

"|He spoke first.

...but he makes good points.|"

"You cant seriously- hey. HEY! CAPTAIN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!"

theres a loud crash.

"|I dont think it fair to keep him here after he helped us save the world.|"

"Hohohoh! You are not so bad, Captain."

"GRAMPS IS GOING TO KILL YOU."

"Hah! No he wont. I know your old man. And for once in his life, he actually made a good call.

Captain.

Agent Three."

The mention of their old number, to refer to them, almost made tears spring to their eyes.

Almost.

After all, this was the reason they were dragged into this mess. But can they really keep blaming him for all this, after all this time?

Octavio shows...a hint of a smile.

"You make a fine protege for the man I used to know.

Keep it up."

3 holds 4 back from rushing the Octarian leader. "Go...back. Take care...of your people."

"Aye aye. Heheh. So long, suckers!!!"

And he was gone.

#splatoon #splatoon fanart #agent 3 #captain 3 #dj octavio #agent 4 #opal owl’s nest #LONG READ HERE I DONT THINK I CAN DRAW ALL THAT IN COMIC FORM #again this takes place before the events of Captain my Captain #ALSO THANK YOU!! IM GLAD YOU APPRECIATE MY LORE

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ivesambrose · 3 days

Text

🤍 WHAT YOU'RE MANIFESTING NEXT 🤍

1. 2. 3.

Starting off new pick a cards with something sweet and simple that everyone can look forward to.

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]

Masterpost

Services Offered

Thank you for the tip

Picture 1

Its likely you've felt rather helpless and alone, as though life has been testing you to the point it feels like a schedule to get to them and tick them off in your mental notepad once done. It is likely you've felt extra strained in your home environment or hometown, you may have attempted to leave but something or the other comes your way. You may have felt consistently blocked or unable to leave or unable to find a solution to a problem you've been facing in regards to your house or family.

A small part of you then decided to turn the worst case scenarios in your favour somehow. One of the ways being, "all of these sufferings will be rewarded. At least, mine will." I imagine you said this to yourself through gritted teeth. I want to tell you that the first thing you're manifesting is learning and accepting that suffering for rewards and accomplishments as poetic as they sound, shouldn't be the default settings you function under.

You're manifesting -

• A solution and clarity. No more illusions that worry you from taking the next step or making a decision.

• A community that allows you to bloom. New friends and network.

• Relocation.

• An end to apathy and boredom.

• An end to turmoil, stagnation and feeling of lack and helplessness.

• The beginning you've been anticipating as everything ends around you.

Timings: The coming 3 months.

Picture 2

You may have felt a lack of proper guidance in your life. That no matter what mentor came through or what ever path you sought to follow, everything somehow got complicated when you looked up to it. So many contradictions and so many lies. So you decided the only constant guidance are your own experiences and intuition. There's a life of adventure you seek, a career that lets you live the way you've wanted, for your words to inspire others without coming off too preachy and pretentious. Life has lacked stability likely due to external forces because you've time and time again done your best to obtain the stability that had been taken away from you. There's an intention you had set some time back and that is finally coming into fruition. Thing is, you knew it was going to happen anyway no matter how dire it seemed, you just needed to water this intention by directing your energy to it. You're manifesting -

• Increase in creativity with the energy to express it as well. Feeling in charge of your life. Leading rather than being led.

• Travelling to foreign locations for higher education or job/career. A career that lets you travel or involves travel.

• More money or increase in finances in general.

• More things or subjects to learn and achieve proficiency in.

Timings : Sooner than you expect. (Likely Gemini season for some)

Picture 3

You don't really shy away from challenges but certain incidents have made you question your faith and entire belief systems, later people and lastly yourself. You're trying to find a middle ground for yourself and also wondering how many transformations till your quiet breakdowns stop. Some of you really want to leave, something that brought you comfort is only bringing you anxiety now and giving you extreme mood swings. It seems as though you're wondering if any efforts you're putting into what you want is even worth it. Quiet your mind for some time. Even for a minute. Till the minutes eventually pass and your mind feels quiet for once. It's okay to have a head full of no thoughts at times. You're manifesting -

• Emotional regulation.

• Better health.

• Luck and expansion.

• Knowledge that you can put into use.

• For some better relationship with a maternal figure or their parents.

• Sudden wealth or unexpected wealth or property.

• Protection from distrustful and downright vindictive energy.

• Success, recognition and enjoying the fruits of your labour. Succeeding in anything you've been wanting to manifest for yourself actually. No extra steps or rules and regulations to follow. Simply acceptance.

Timings: Within 2 months.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #pick a pile #tarot readers

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stylesispunk · 1 day

Text

"I love you, it's ruining my life" | part iii.

Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter | part iv

Summary: Joel tried to win you back or where Joel goes all his way to find you but things are not as easy as he thought or that's what he thinks. w.c: 5,7k warnings: angst, FLUFF. Perhaps grammar mistakes cuz I didn't check the chapter, sorry. Not my best chapter, but some hearts are going to be happy a/n: As I promised, part 3 is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave it to the first part, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. This one is not my best, but some hearts will be mended. This was a messy week for me and I was not completely focused on this, but I wanted to give it to you. AGAIN, this part will not be the end, so a fourth and last part is already in the works to end this mini-story since I split this chapter in two :) If you have a suggestion, question, or want to talk to me, you can come to my dms or asks! Happy reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Five years ago,

On your 25th birthday,.

Years were passing by; it was your 25th birthday, and your friends had decided to throw a grand party for you in a dowtown venue. Of course, Joel had told you he couldn’t make it; he couldn’t leave Sarah behind, and being a single father of a three-year-old at twenty-five held him back from dropping everything and just coming to your party.

You stood by the entrance, looking around at the lively scene, when you decided to give Joel a call. He had told you earlier that he couldn’t make it; being a single father of a three-year-old at twenty-five made it impossible for him to drop everything and come to your party.

“Are you sure you can’t make it?” you asked through the phone, your voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. The noise from the party buzzed in the background.

“Oh, sweetie, you know I would love to be there with you, but I’m having a party with my baby,” Joel replied. You could almost see his smile through the phone, picturing him sitting on the couch, trying to make Sarah fall asleep in his arms.

Though you understood, a part of you felt incomplete without him there, and you knew exactly why.

“Okay, then,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light and cheerful despite the sinking feeling in your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, promise,” he said, his voice warm and sincere.

“Alright, Joel. Give Sarah a kiss for me,” you said before hanging up.

The party continued in full swing, but you found yourself increasingly detached from the celebration around you. The laughter and conversations felt distant, overshadowed by the thought of spending your birthday without Joel. Finally, unable to shake the feeling, you made your excuses and slipped away from the party, leaving the lively party behind.

Joel was exhausted. He had put Sarah to sleep and just sat on the couch to watch a movie, wanting to keep himself awake and make sure you would arrive home safe and sound. As the soft glow of the TV flickered in the dimly lit room, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not being able to celebrate your birthday with you.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel was startled by a soft knock at the door. Frowning, he glanced at the clock—it was late, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He stood up, making his way to the door and opening it to find you standing there, a small, tired smile on your face.

He said your name, shocked.

“What are you doing here?” Joel asked, his eyes wide with surprise and concern. “Shouldn’t you be at your party?”

You shrugged, stepping inside and giving him a warm hug. “I was at the party,” you said, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “But I realized that there’s no place I’d rather be on my birthday than here with you,” you paused, “and Sarah, of course.”

Joel’s expression softened, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over him. “Sarah is sleeping, and you didn’t have to do that,” he said tenderly. “It’s your birthday. You should be out celebrating.”

You shook your head, your eyes meeting his with unwavering sincerity. “This is where I want to be,” you replied firmly. "Besides, I brought food,” you said, lifting bags in front of Joel's face.

Joel's smile was slow but genuine, a warmth spreading across his features as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “Happy birthday,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you unpacked the food you had brought. It was a simple spread—some of your favorite dishes from the party. You set the table, and the cozy atmosphere of Joel's home makes you feel more at ease.

Joel poured you both a drink, and you sat down to eat, sharing stories and laughter. The conversation flowed naturally, as it always did between the two of you. It was moments like these that reminded you why Joel was such an important part of your life.

After finishing the meal, you both moved to the living room. Joel put on a movie, and you settled onto the couch, comfortable in each other's presence. The noise of the TV filled the room, but it was the quiet, unspoken bond between you that brought the most comfort.

As the movie played, Sarah stirred from her sleep and toddled into the living room, rubbing her eyes. "Bubu?" she said, her voice sleepy and endearing.

You smiled, reaching out to her. "Hey there, birthday girl," you said softly, lifting her onto your lap. Sarah snuggled against you, her tiny arms wrapped around your neck.

Joel watched the two of you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It looks like Sarah wanted to join the party," he said, his voice filled with warmth.

You laughed; the sound was light and happy. "The best party I could ask for," you replied, hugging Sarah close.

As the night went on, the three of you sat together, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company. The flickering light of the TV cast a warm glow over the room, and in that moment, everything felt perfect.

Joel glanced over at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper that he couldn't quite put into words. "You really made my night by coming here," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

"I couldn't imagine spending my birthday any other way," you replied, your heart full. "Thank you for being here for me, always."

Joel reached over and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're always here for each other," he said, his voice a promise. "No matter what."

Joel didn’t know why his heart felt like it was exploding every time you were around.

A year had passed since you left, and Joel found himself constantly haunted by memories of you. The days had blurred together into a monotonous routine, and the nights were filled with restless thoughts of what might have been. Every corner of his house reminded him of you, from the empty chair at the dining table to the quiet, lonely evenings after Sarah had gone to bed.

Joel spent the year focusing on Sarah, trying to be the best father he could be while grappling with the void your absence had left. He poured his heart into his work, his family, and his responsibilities, but nothing could fill the emptiness that lingered in his heart.

As the months went by, Joel found himself yearning to see you again, to hear your voice, and to feel your presence. He knew you needed time and space to heal, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to find you to see if there was any chance of rebuilding what they had lost.

And so, with trembling hands and a heart full of fear, Joel found himself standing in New York, pacing back and forth in front of your building. The bustling city seemed to move around him in a blur, the noise and energy contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside him. He had come all this way, but now, standing so close to you, he was paralyzed by doubt.

Had you thought about him the same way he had been thinking about you? He thought for himself while pacing back and forth over the cobblestones in front of the building you lived in.

Joel couldn’t make up his mind until the exact moment he took all this courage and flew all the way here to find you. It felt surreal to be in this city, so far from the familiar life he had known, all for the chance to see you again. The realization of how much he had missed you and how deeply he still cared had driven him to this point. Now, as he stood in front of your building, the weight of his decision pressed heavily on his shoulders.

His thoughts raced with questions and doubts. What if you had moved on? What if you were happy without him? What if seeing him only brought back painful memories you had worked so hard to move past? These fears churned in his mind, paralyzing him with indecision.

He looked up at the windows, imagining you inside, living your life. The city around him buzzed with activity, but Joel felt isolated, trapped in his own whirlwind of emotions. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his hands still shook as he clenched and unclenched them.

Joel stood there, the city’s noises fading into the background as he lost himself in his thoughts. His mind drifted back to the moment he realized he was in love with you, a moment that had come so unexpectedly yet felt so right. It was a quiet evening, long before the chaos of the last year, when he saw you playing with Sarah in the backyard of his house. The way you laughed and the tenderness in your eyes as you helped Sarah with her tiny steps had struck him deeply.

It had always been you, he realized. Through all the ups and downs, the moments of joy and sorrow, you have been the constant in his life. Tess had been important, but she felt like a chapter in his life.

The night before he was supposed to get married, when you confessed your feelings, was etched in his memory. Your vulnerability and the raw honesty in your eyes had shaken him to his core. How he had kissed you then, driven by an overwhelming need to bridge the gap between what he had always felt and what he had denied for so long.

Now, standing in front of your building, the weight of that realization pressed heavily on his chest. He had almost married another woman, but it had always been you. His heart ached with the knowledge of the pain he had caused—the confusion and hurt that had driven you away.

Taking another deep breath, Joel forced himself to focus. He had come here to make amends, to lay bare his soul, and to hope that you could find it in your heart to forgive him. His hands still trembled, but the resolve in his heart was unwavering. He needed to see you to tell you that he loved you, that he had always loved you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to rebuild what you both had lost.

Just as Joel mustered the last of his courage to cross the street and approach your building, he heard the sound of a car pulling up. He glanced over and saw you stepping out, laughing with a man beside you. His heart sank at the sight, a mixture of jealousy and heartbreak washing over him. The scene before him seemed to confirm his worst fears—that you had moved on and found happiness without him.

You looked radiant, your laughter lighting up the whole town, and he smiled at the sight of you.

He stood still, not knowing what to do, just asking himself, How could you be able to bear the burning feelings in your heart at the sight of him with another woman and still be so good to him? It hurt like he was feeling it now.

Joel stood there, his heart aching as he watched you, his mind racing with thoughts of the past and the overwhelming emotions he was experiencing in the present. He felt an immense sense of guilt and regret for the pain he had caused you, and now, seeing you with someone else, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and sadness.

His thoughts were interrupted when you looked up and locked eyes with him. The shock on your face mirrored the turmoil inside him. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the bustling city around you both fading into the background.

Your smile faltered, replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. You stopped in your tracks, the man beside you following your gaze to where Joel stood. Joel felt his breath catch in his throat, unsure of what to do or say. The reality of the situation hit him hard—he had come all this way, and now he was standing before you, unsure if he even had the right to ask you for a chance.

He was about to go when he heard your voice.

"Joel," you said, crossing the street, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

Joel took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I came here to see you," he said, his voice gaining strength. I came here to tell you that I love you. I know I hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for, but I couldn't let another day go by without telling you how I feel. He thought.

"Joel," you began, your voice filled with a mix of emotions. "It's been a year.”

“I know. It’s just,” he paused for a second, “forget it.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy with unresolved emotions. Joel felt the weight of them pressing down on him, his heart sinking with each passing moment. He knew he had no right to expect forgiveness or to ask for another chance. But he couldn't bear the thought of walking away without at least trying to make things right.

As he turned to go, he felt a gentle hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He looked back to see you standing there, your eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and uncertainty.

"Joel," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't go."

He hesitated, torn between the desire to flee from the pain of rejection and the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for redemption.

"There's a café around the corner," you continued, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "Let's go there and talk."

He graced his lips with a tiny smile and nodded.

“Just wait here a second.”

To say you were fine would be a lie. Of course, you have been better since you were in pieces. You had thought about Joel every single night since the day you left. He was coming home to a woman who wasn't you, sleeping and waking up next to her, having a family. Perhaps on the possibility of Tess being pregnant, you were sitting across from him, the man who had once been your everything.

Joel looked older and more worn, but there was a softness in his eyes that you recognized. You could tell he was nervous, and it mirrored your own anxiety. The silence between you was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"I didn't know if I'd ever see you again," you finally said, your voice barely audible over the hum of the café.

Joel nodded, his fingers wrapped tightly around his coffee cup. "I didn't know if you'd want to see me," he replied, his voice rough with emotion.

You looked down at your own cup, the steam rising in gentle tendrils, and took a deep breath. "How did you know my address?”

“Tommy.”

“That fucker,” you joked.

Joel chuckled, "I know," he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But don’t blame him; I asked him.”

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was almost overwhelming, and you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you. "Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes. Why, after a whole year, Joel?” You questioned him, not calling him by tender names anymore. The way you called out his name felt strange and foreign.

Joel's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of deep introspection. He took a moment before responding, his gaze dropping to his coffee cup. "Because you needed time, and I did, too,” he said softly.

You nodded, not uttering words. There was anything for you to say, or so you thought. “I-How… How is Sarah?”

You nodded, not uttering words. There was nothing for you to say, or so you thought. “I—How… How is Sarah?”

“She misses you,” Joel replied, his voice thick with emotion. "She talks about you all the time and wonders when you’ll come back. I didn’t realize how much you meant to her until you were gone."

A lump formed in your throat as you thought of Sarah, her innocent face, and the bond you had shared. "I miss her too," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. "She’s a big part of why I stayed away. I didn’t want to confuse her or make things harder for her."

“How could you? You were everything to her.”

“I bet Tess loves her that much too.”

Joel chuckled again. It felt almost insulting to you. “I didn’t marry Tess,” he confessed.

Your eyes widened in surprise at Joel's confession. “What?” you asked, barely able to believe what you had just heard.

Joel looked down, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. “I didn’t marry Tess,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time, laden with the weight of his decision.

“But why?” you asked, your voice a mix of shock and curiosity. “I thought...”

Joel sighed, lifting his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve. “I couldn’t go through with it. It wasn’t fair to her, to Sarah, or to myself. My heart was never fully in it because my heart has always been with you.”

You felt a rush of conflicting emotions—relief, confusion, and a lingering ache from the past year’s pain. “Joel, I...”

Your words got cut. You felt shame wash over you once again. Guilt, as if you committed treason and ruined another person's life. You thought about Tess.

Your words got cut short, replaced by a wave of overwhelming emotions. Shame washed over you, followed by a torrent of guilt. You thought about Tess and the life she might have imagined with Joel, a life you had inadvertently disrupted. The weight of it all felt suffocating.

Unable to sit still, you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a screech that drew a few curious glances from the other patrons. Joel looked up at you, alarmed by your sudden movement.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked, his voice laced with concern and a hint of desperation.

You took a step back, shaking your head as if trying to clear the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. “I-I can’t do this, Joel,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “It’s too much. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Joel stood up as well, reaching out to you. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly, trying to reassure you. “I made my own choices. I couldn’t marry Tess because it wouldn’t have been fair to anyone. Especially not to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the pain and confusion evident in your expression. “How can I live with myself knowing I caused her so much hurt?”

Joel took a step closer, his hands gently reaching out but stopping just short of touching you, respecting your space. His eyes were filled with a mix of determination and tenderness as he spoke, his voice steady but earnest. “Tess and I have talked,” he said. “She deserves someone who can love her fully, and I realized that person wasn’t me. It was a hard decision, but it was the right one for both of us. She’s moved on, and she’s happy.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity and deep affection that had always been there. But the weight of guilt and the fear of causing more pain were too overwhelming. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were to blame for the hurt Tess had gone through. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

You shook your head, the tears spilling over as you took another step back. “I can’t, Joel. I just can’t,” you said, your voice breaking. Turning away, you started to walk towards the exit, your heart pounding in your chest.

Joel’s voice rang out, louder and more desperate, stopping you in your tracks. “Will you run away from me again?! It seems like a habit of yours!

His words stung, and you spun around, your eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt. “A habit? You think running away is a habit?” You shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to leave? How much did it tear me apart?”

Joel took a step closer, his face etched with frustration and pain. “I know it was hard. It was hard for me, too. But you can’t keep running every time things get tough. We need to face this together.”

“Us? There’s no us, Joel!” You echoed, incredulous. “You were about to marry someone else, Joel! How was I supposed to face that?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret. “I wish you had never told me about your feelings; I wouldn't have lost you.”

“'You would, though.” You whispered.

“You're the coward here.” He cried out.

“Did you want me to spend a whole fucking year of my life waiting for you? You were supposed to be married; you never saw me the way I saw you, and I wasn’t going to stay there to watch.” You paused. “I waited for you to call me to show me I was important, but... Listen, I don't blame you. How could I? You didn't know.” You tried to say, hoping to change the tone this conversation was taking, but for Joel, everything you said didn’t matter anymore.

“The man you were with...”

“We’re dating,” you replied, not meeting his gaze.

Joel’s expression hardened at your admission; the pain was evident in his eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the anger and frustration bubbled just beneath the surface. “You’re dating someone else,” he repeated, his voice strained. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know? You didn’t think I had the right to fight for you?”

“What was there to fight for, Joel?” You shot back, your own anger rising. “You were getting married to someone else. How could I believe there was anything left for us?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair again, his movements agitated. “Fuck this,” he said, his voice breaking. He turned and started to walk past you, his shoulders tense with unresolved emotion.

You watched him go, a part of you wanting to reach out and stop him, but the pain and confusion held you back. “Joel, wait,” you called after him, but he didn’t slow down.

The weight of the past year’s emotions, the regrets, and the missed opportunities pressed down on you as you watched him walk away. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do something to make it all better, but the words wouldn’t come.

Joel pushed open the door to the café and stepped outside, the sound of the city flooding in. He paused for a moment, his back to you, as if he were wrestling with the decision to leave or stay. The seconds stretched into an eternity, the distance between you feeling insurmountable.

“Joel, please,” you said, your voice breaking. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

He turned around slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, hurt, and something deeper—hope. “I came here to see if you were good,” he said simply, his voice raw with emotion. “I don't want to accept that losing you is our fate, but if you’re happy the way you are now, I have nothing else to do here.

"Joel,” you called out his name again, but he disappeared into the crowd. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him walk away, a sense of loss washing over you. You wanted to run after him, to tell him that you weren't happy and that you still loved him, but the words caught in your throat.

Joel had come all this way to find you, to see if there was still a chance for the two of you, but now he was walking away, and you didn't know if you would ever see him again.

Feeling lost and adrift, you sank into a nearby chair, the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. The café buzzed with activity around you, but you felt completely alone, the absence of Joel's presence like a gaping hole in your heart.

As you sat there, grappling with the pain and regret, you realized that you had to make a choice. You couldn't continue living in the past, holding onto what might have been. If you wanted a chance at happiness, you had to let go of your fears and take a leap of faith.

You wanted him to forgive you for not waiting for him, but a year after radio silence was the answer you got. Not fighting, not callbacks asking you to come back. The love you had for him felt childish, with promises made but never to keep, and maybe you had just closed the door to him.

Back in your apartment, the weight of the recent events bore down on you like a heavy burden. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat on the edge of your bed, clutching your cell phone tightly in your hand. The breakup with the guy you had been dating had been inevitable, with your feelings for Joel still lingering beneath the surface, stronger than ever.

With trembling fingers, you scrolled through your contacts until you found Joel's name. Taking a shaky breath, you pressed the call button and waited, your heart pounding in your chest.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel's voice came through the line, filled with warmth and concern. "Baby?" he said, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again at the sound of his voice, the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Why did you have to come back to do this?" you whispered, your voice raw with pain and longing.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, as if Joel was trying to find the right words to say.

“I could prove to myself that my life could continue without you, but you had to come back and fuck up everything, Joel?

The words spilled out of you—a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt. You wanted to push him away, to shield yourself from the pain he had brought back into your life, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, pulsing beneath the surface like a live wire.

Joel's response was barely a whisper, his voice heavy with remorse. "I'm sorry," he said, the words hanging in the air between you like a weight. "I never meant to hurt you."

The tears flowed freely down your cheeks now, your heart torn between conflicting emotions. "But you did," you choked out, the pain of the past year crashing over you in waves. "You hurt me so much."

There was another pause, and then Joel spoke again, his voice thick with emotion. "Tell me how to fix it," he said softly. "And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right."

His words hung in the air—a promise and a plea all at once. You knew that forgiving him wouldn't be easy and that rebuilding what you had lost would take time and effort, but deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for the two of you.

"I just wanted for you to love me the way I love you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The admission hung heavy in the air, the raw vulnerability of your words laying bare the depth of your feelings.

Joel's response was immediate; his voice was filled with regret and longing. "I do love you," he said, his words laced with sincerity. "I was just too blind to see it before, too scared to admit it to myself."

"I don't want to hear it on the phone, Joel," you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of facing him again, of seeing the pain and longing in his eyes, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, as if Joel were considering his response. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice filled with determination. "Then open your door," he said simply.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the weight of the decision pressing down on you like a heavy burden. You walked over to the door and turned the handle, pulling it open slowly. There, standing on the other side, was Joel, his gaze filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

For a moment, neither of you spoke; the weight of everything left unsaid was hanging heavy in the air. Then, finally, Joel stepped forward, closing the distance between you.

You held each other's gaze for a long moment, the silence between you speaking volumes. Then, without a word, Joel reached out. Without a word, Joel reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His gaze locked with yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss. In that moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

The kiss was soft at first and tentative, as if both of you were afraid to fully give in to the overwhelming emotions swirling between you. But then, as the warmth of his lips met yours, something shifted, and the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and more passionate.

It was as if all the longing and desire that had been building between you for so long finally found release in that single moment of connection. You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around him as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

As your lips parted, Joel looked into your eyes with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. His voice was filled with sincerity as he spoke, and his words were a heartfelt confession of his love for you.

"I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper but resonating with a depth of feeling that echoed through the room. "I have always loved you, from the moment you opened the door. You've been in my thoughts every day, in every moment. I can’t just pretend I want a life without you in it.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, the weight of his confession washing over you like a wave of emotion. All the doubts and uncertainties melted away in the warmth of his love, leaving only the undeniable truth of your connection.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it," Joel continued, his voice filled with regret. "I was scared of losing you and of facing my own feelings. But now, I know that I can't live without you. You're the missing piece of my heart, the one I've been searching for all along."

You wrapped your arms tightly around Joel, pulling him close and burying your face in the crook of his neck. His warmth enveloped you, comforting and familiar, as if you were finally coming home after a long journey.

Tears of relief and joy streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the scent of his cologne. In his arms, you felt safe, loved, and understood in a way you had never experienced before.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like I did," he sobbed, not letting you go from his hold. "I felt I stabbed myself in the heart that day. God, when I read that letter...

"Do you remember the night we met? When you went to-“ You began.

"Your house with Sarah, yes. Of course I do," he continued for you.

"I lied to you that night."

His eyebrows furrowed at the words.

"I said I had you come back home, but in fact I was going on a date with my boyfriend.”

"Did you have a

"Yes, he was a sweetheart, and I stood him up for my neighbor that night.”

"Why did you love me back then?"

You didn't reply; no words were enough for that.

"This whole time without you, God has been... miserable," he said. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like I did."

You reached up, gently brushing away the tears that streaked his cheeks. "I forgive you, Joel," you whispered, your voice filled with love and understanding. "I forgive you because I know that your heart was always in the right place, even if your actions didn't always reflect that."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes searching for yours for reassurance. "I love you," he said softly, his voice trembling with sincerity. "I've loved you from the moment I met you, and I'll love you for the rest of my days."

Tears welled up in your own eyes as you felt the weight of his words sink in. "I love you too, Joel," you replied, your voice filled with conviction. "More than words can express."

Joel leaned in and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a tender and passionate kiss, filled with years of longing and unspoken love.

Wrapped up in each other's arms, you felt a sense of completeness that you hadn't experienced in a long time. Every touch and every caress was a silent affirmation of the love that had endured despite the trials and tribulations you had faced.

As you deepened the kiss, your hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and passion that echoed through the room. It was a moment of pure bliss, a reminder that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

taglist 💌: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller @missladym1981 @brittmb115 @guelyury @heartpascalispunk @ashleyfilm @loveisacowboyyy @southernbe @pedroloml

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simpxxstan · 1 day

Text

Nobody Else (final: part 2)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), arranged marriage, a lot of angst, and some fluff.

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 22.8k

warnings: angst warnings: overthinking, anxiety, a lot of it. spiralling, constant worries, mention of insomnia. mention of illnesses and a lung tumour, hospitals, medical treatments, relapse. discussions about death. please do not read if you find these triggering! a lot of arguing and usage of profanities. mention of smoking, drinking, food.

smut warnings: oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart, princess, baby for female), degradation, usage of sir (for male), sir kink, marriage kink, breeding kink, office sex, elevator sex, sex in a public place.

a/n: OH MY GOD. so many people were waiting for this, i can't even imagine. i've had some really tough months when i could not find time to write at all, so i am very sorry for the delay. well, here you go! i hope it meets your satisfactions! putting the taglist in a reblog because the fanfic itself is massive. please let me know your thoughts!! reblogs, comments and asks are so appreciated <3 thank you for reading!

You bite your nails nervously. You do this often, it’s a habit you mask well through regular manicures at your home. No one knows about it. No one needs to know.

You’ve tried it all in these last two days, you swear. You’ve tried every trick on the web- listing the pros and cons of your thoughts on a sheet of paper (on your phone’s notes app), venting to someone (yourself in the mirror), meditation, drinking wine and unwinding in a bathtub, listening to white noise to help you sleep.

It doesn’t help. Nothing does. Nothing helps to erase the thoughts from your mind, nothing helps to stop the cogs and wheels of the gears turning in your head, nothing helps to drown out the noise of your overthinking. You’ve worried yourself to a fever, and it’s on the fourth day that Jisung caves in and asks you, “Ma’am, are you doing okay?”

You can trust him, you know that. He had, after all, not outed your antics to your mother in spite of her attempts at bribing him with a higher salary. He had remained loyal to you, as he had himself confirmed when you’d brought up the issue with him the day after the fateful lunch invitation.

But he feels too close, too personal, and yet too distant. He would understand, and yet nothing at all. It feels like a gamble.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” You smile, while popping another paracetamol. At least the fever and its meds help you sleep.

“You don’t look like yourself. I don’t know if I am in a position to say this, but… is this about the thing your mother discussed with you Ma’am?”

“Are you reading my mind, Jisung-ah? Is that your secret to being the best secretary in the world?” You chuckle drily, staring outside the glass window that makes up a wall in your office. It’s a rainy day, not the stormy kind, but the pestering kind. Where it drizzles light enough that people don’t want to carry umbrellas, but the rain is so insistent, it drenches you right through anyway.

“I don’t know how appropriate it is for me to ask anything regarding this Ma’am. But I genuinely am curious about how Mr Y/L/N and Mr Jeon agreed to it in the first place.”

On the day you’d spoken to him about the entire affair, you’d told him the truth about your relationship with Wonwoo. His loyalty had earned him at least this much truth, and you were glad to have a confidant. You tried to play it off as coolly as you could, but as soon as you’d spilled the truth, you’d realise what a big weight had been relieved off your chest. It felt like being a teenager again. You had explained to Jisung that it was not romantic in the least, and in fact, you wanted to draw an end to it. You didn’t care to tell him that it was because you were addicted like a drug.

That was the problem. These last three days wouldn’t have become such a burden for you had you simply called Wonwoo and sought his help. Like a magician, he’d silence the thoughts in your mind and leave you with more clarity than ever, almost like a fresh slate beginning anew. You knew he was the perfect solution, but you had decided to cut it off. There was no point in persisting in this kind of a relationship where you weren’t even friends, not even on talking terms, and yet you needed him to stabilise you. All while he didn’t need you at all. For him, you were just another of his regulars. He’s probably already replaced you by now.

“My mother can be… very capable when she wants. She has her ways.”

“I’m sure she does. It must not have been an easy feat to swallow pride to agree to the idea of the wedding and take the Jeons out for lunch.”

Words get stuck in your throat. Pride. You’ve never let go of it. Life has been humbling, but you’ve never stopped being proud of who you are and what you’ve been able to achieve. All the dreams you’ve fulfilled. It forms an integral part of who you’ve become, your identity, and the way you perceive yourself. You’ve tried to not let it become arrogance nor vanity, although you have had sufficient reasons. That discipline is also something you pride yourself on.

“But I guess it’s not a big price for happiness,” Jisung completes his little philosophical speech and busies himself with arranging out letters on your desk that need to be signed, arranged in order of urgency. “I’ll be at my desk Ma’am, should you need any help.” He bows and leaves the room, and you’re still staring out of the window.

Happiness.

What an odd word. What an odd sensation for the billions of people across the world to be chasing all their lives. You had always considered yourself to be above that rat race for gratification and validation. Your successes spoke for itself, and you had no reason to consider yourself unhappy when you were living the dream you’d envisioned since you were a child.

But are you happy?

It’s just for an enjoyable late night drive, you reason with yourself when you find yourself driving on the road that takes you from your office to Wonwoo’s office building. It’s just to see if their coffee has improved, you think, when you step into the building and walk inside. It’s just to see if their employees are forced to work overtime, you figure, when you’re granted a visitor pass by the reception desk even though they’re shocked to see you here.

“What are you doing here?”

Wonwoo stares at you from the end of the corridor. It’s not lit very brightly and totally empty.

“Are you busy?”

Wonwoo’s tongue goes into his left cheek, you see it through his skin. He’s wearing a suit in baby blue. You knew he’d look good in blue.

“Yes. I’m working late as you can see. I don’t enjoy it particularly, so I don’t do it unless I’m really behind on work.”

And why’s that so? Trying to catch up with our closing figures for the financial year? A snarky comment is on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to say it. The jibe feels tasteless, even for you.

No, tonight you’re here in desperation, you finally admit to yourself. You’re here because like any other addict, it’s hard to let go once you get used to the high of happiness you ride when the dopamine kicks in.

“Sorry. I’ll leave.” His rejection is clear. He knows what you’re here for, that’s for sure. You’d never go out of your way to come to his office if it had been for anything else. It’s a good reminder call of reality.

This is the boy your parents want you to marry. This is the boy you rejected from marrying and from sleeping with. He has every right to turn you down now.

Wonwoo takes a step forward, you take a step backward. It’s a dance. You pause, you don’t even know when you were on the verge of tears. You bite your lips and turn away your face. You walk away quickly, as silently as you arrived. Your thoughts are loud enough to mask the sound of Wonwoo jogging after you, and you only realise when he grabs your arm as soon as you enter the elevator. He enters too, naturally, face a bit flushed from the chase, but before you can ask him what’s up, he pushes you against the mirror on the back of the elevator and kisses you hard.

It knocks your breath away. In the best way possible.

You kiss him back. Wildly, passionately. Like lovers, you would think in retrospection, not like rivals who fuck. As if you’d missed each other. Another second of overthinking and you’d delude yourself into believing that he needs you as much as you do. But thankfully, he kisses well enough to wash your thoughts away.

“Don’t run away from me like that, girl.” He snarls near your ear, his breath making you ticklish, and you whimper when he begins to kiss your neck. He’s going to leave marks again, and frankly, you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him. Not when your brain is finally drifting away from the anxiety.

The elevator dings just as he puts his lips back on yours, tongue forcing itself in. You break apart, gasping for air. You haven’t even noticed what a mess you’ve made of his hair. “Wonwoo I… I can leave, really. If you’re busy.” “No, stay.” He doesn’t step away from you even when the elevator door opens, holding you down with his hands, keeping you close to him. The elevator door closes again, and he frantically presses the floor number of his office. “Come with me while I pack up,” he says as an explanation, and you understand. Then he unbuttons your shirt and begins to suck bruises all over the exposed flesh over your collarbones and chest, hands fondling with your breasts. Even over the bra, he instantly finds your nipples and rubs them to perfect hardness, making them so sensitive, that when he lifts you up into his arms and wraps your legs around his waist, your nipples brush against his face and he can feel the nubs poking out.

“You get turned on like you’re a touch-starved bitch,” he says roughly, making you thrash your arms against his back for the rudeness, before chuckling and thrusting his mouth onto the clothed nipples to suck them while he walks out of the elevator, holding you in his arms still, and seemingly facing no difficulty in walking at all. You become silent again, as you ponder on how strong he really must be, and his bites at your nipples do nothing to prevent the manhandling kink from showing itself.

“Take me on your desk, Wonwoo.” You beg as he enters his office, but he laughs and puts you down on his chair. Thankfully the entire floor is empty. He begins to arrange papers and turn off his desktop, while you sit silently at his desk. The high slowly wears out as his clearing up takes longer and longer, until you’re no longer turned on anymore and reality strikes.

He looks at you once all the work is done, staring deep at your soul, making you feel naked. Consciously, you start to button up your shirt and fix your collar.

“I thought we were done with this, Y/N.”

He says it like you’d dumped him while dating, and it’s funny. But you can’t laugh. You did cut him off and now you’re begging him to take you back. It’s a little absurd- inconsistency has never been one of your weaknesses. You’re tempted to dissect it in your brain and understand why it’s happening, but you fall into a spiral of overthinking again.

It’s getting tough to breathe.

You stand up and walk around the room. It’s spacious, with a simple layout, nothing modern like your own office space. You can’t blame it, it definitely screams Wonwoo to you. Instead of huge windows on the walls, he has mahogany shelves stacked with books. Instead of a statement chandelier, he has minimalist lights in focal points of the room. Instead of a charcoal grey settee with everything in cool shades of steel, his office is done in off-white, decorated with rich tones of wood. The room tells you so much about Wonwoo, although you probably know it all already- legacy, tradition and diligence. This is what he’s made of, old money that takes no risks and succeeds without gambles.

“You know why I had to come back.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” He walks up to you, standing in front of you, as you gaze at the books on his shelves. “Y/N, look at me.” And you do. He looks like Adonis and you want to kiss him. “You said it was getting toxic for you.” He snaps you back to attention, and you sigh. “I can’t… Wonwoo, I tried. But I…” you walk away, unable to continue. Continuing would mean telling him what’s driving you to the brink of anxiety every moment of the day.

“We can talk. If this is about that day, we’re in this together. We may not be friends, but we can be allies in this.”

The simple way in which he says these words, you don’t think he realises how much more vulnerable he makes you feel. How much more tempted to spill it all to him and be relieved of the burden of this worry.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Wonwoo. I didn’t come here for talking.” You walk back towards him. “Fuck me and make my brain stop thinking, please.” He closes his eyes for a second. The tension is palpable, it’s making your palms sweat. You tilt your head and gently lean in to kiss the edge of his jaw. His stubble grazes against your softer lips and it’s a nice feeling.

“I can’t say no when you ask like this.”

You wake up in the middle of the night, clammy with sweat and naked under the sheets, alone in Wonwoo’s king-sized bed. Your wrists hurt from being tied with his tie for too long, and you’re definitely too sore to move, but the pleasant buzz all over your body is too good a sensation to forgo. But now that you’ve woken up, you feel thirsty and hot all over, so you get out of bed. You notice your underwear neatly kept on the couch, Wonwoo had taken care to not rip them. You quickly wear them before looking for any waterbottle in the room. Seeing none, and not seeing Wonwoo either, you open the bedroom door and slowly tiptoe your way outside. Once past the small corridor, you notice there’s a dim light in the kitchen, and you can see Wonwoo’s shadow from far away. As you step closer, you notice he’s wearing formals, complete with a glazing white shirt and a grey tie, and his hair is brushed back neatly, although his pants are still pyjamas. He’s doing something on his laptop. You wait in the shadows for a few minutes, trying to understand if he’s in a video meeting or something, but you only hear frantic typing noises from the kitchen. After a whole five minutes pass, you step into the kitchen, and Wonwoo looks up at the same time.

“Oh! You scared me.”

“Are you in a meeting?”

“No, it got over a while back. Why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“The meeting was with a firm in Canada. They couldn’t adjust timings.”

“And you couldn’t get someone else to do it for you?” You huff, annoyed at how unbothered he is about waking up this ungodly hour and sitting for meetings. You once again thank Jisung for scheduling foreign meetings at suitable timings.

“Do you get someone else to attend your important meetings for you?”

You both stay in silence for a minute, Wonwoo sitting on his kitchen stool, and you standing awkwardly near the door, staring at each other. It’s only when you start shivering in the cold that you realise what you actually came here for.

“You’re working hard. Too hard. Don’t try to compete with me, Jeon.” You lean down on the island next to him, close enough to hear his breathing but not touching him at all.

“Go to bed, Y/N.”

“I was thirsty. Where do you keep water in your house?”

He gets up from his stool and brings a bottle. “Drink, and go to sleep. Or go home.”

You silently sip the cool water, without replying. You can see the dawn slowly coming up from the window in the kitchen, lighting the room up. The circles under Wonwoo’s eyes become prominent to you, and for no reason at all, your heart aches. This is what it’s going to be like, marrying you, Jeon Wonwoo, you think, as you look at him with a careful glance. He’s focusing on his laptop again, typing at light speed, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. You’re sipping water from his bottle, in his kitchen, wearing nothing but your underwear, and watching the sunrise. Is this what those nights filled with deadlines and insomnia are going to look like if you get married? Is this what staying up together will look like? Is this what watching the dawn together will be like? The sensation tingles your nerves and makes you anxious again.

“Y/N, if you want to say something, just say it. Or go to sleep, trust me. You’ll need to wake up fresh tomorrow morning.”

The kitchen is warm, cosy, and filled with the familiar scent of Wonwoo’s body. You want to stay wrapped in it, and not say a word. You don’t want to break this moment, although you have no idea why sharing this simple moment is making you so emotional. Perhaps because you’ve never done it before and never imagined you would do it?

“My father is dying, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo stops typing and looks up.

“He has a tumour in his lungs.”

“Since when?”

“A few months now. He hadn’t told me. He didn’t want to bother me, my mom said.”

There’s a beat of silence. Again the warmth of the kitchen wraps you up and you both stare out at the slowly brightening sky outside. As a girl, you’d hate watching the sunrise. It would remind you of the nights you’d been unable to sleep and had been forced to stay up all night. But now, you can appreciate its beauty. Its consistency, its reliability. It happens every day. One of the precious few things that happen regularly, you’ve come to realise.

Wonwoo breaks the silence. “So why now?”

“Huh?”

“Why tell you now, of all times?”

“He wants to see me married before he dies.”

Wonwoo shuts down the lid of his laptop with a smash, knowing fully what’s coming next.

“Y/N. What do you want?” He stands up and comes to stand next to you, leaning against the counter and looking down at you.

There are many things you want to say. I don’t want to throw away my freedom. I don’t want to marry a stranger. I don’t want to dance to my Appa’s whims. I don’t want to lose focus on my career. I don’t want to marry you. “I don’t want to disappoint him, Wonwoo.” It’s the ultimate truth. It’s what has fueled you for years- the desire to become that child for your parents who would take care of them when they need you, to love silently and support unconditionally, to give back everything they’d given to you.

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Is this what you were so worried about?” You look up at him, and he tilts your face upwards with his hand on your chin. You want to lean into the warmth of his palm. “Yes. I don’t… I … I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless.”

“What about treatment?”

“Stage 4, practically impossible, that’s what the reports say. My mom showed them to me. She cried so much, and I… I couldn’t do anything. I can’t do anything.” You move away from him, turning your body to the other side. He lets you move away.

“Treatment abroad? In the US?”

“Yes, that’s… that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I’ve spoken to a few people, but Appa is adamant. He refuses to talk to me about this every time I’ve raised it, these last few days.”

He sighs. Your heart aches again. You don’t even notice when tears begin rolling down your cheeks. You’ve never felt more alone than this, more helpless, more pitiful. What worth were your dreams and successes if life successfully left you unshielded in one stroke?

“Let’s get married. You’ll have more bargaining power to talk to him then.”

He makes it sound so simple. You’ve thought of this a hundred times before, and you still can’t register that he just said that. You turn around slowly, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes. “Don’t joke with me.”

“I’m not.”

“But I don’t want to marry you.”

“Even if it gets your Appa into a good treatment abroad?”

You stomp your foot, and hurt your bare toes on the cold tile. “Why is my Appa so stubborn?”

“Just like you, isn’t he?”

You glare at Wonwoo, but he’s deadly serious. There’s not a hint of a joke on his face, and he genuinely seems to be invested in this idea. “You’re serious.” “I am. I wouldn’t offer marriage to you casually.” You bite your lip, your heart rate begins to slow down. Wave after wave of calm washes over you, suddenly you can breathe well again. “You’re serious,” you say again, not believing it still. “I am. Do you want me to go down on my knees?” “Wonwoo, you’re not thinking about this. Don’t turn your back on me when you regret it later. This isn’t a light thing, it’s a marriage, for fuck’s sake!” “Is your Appa’s life more precious than your ego?” “If it weren’t, I wouldn’t have come begging to you, would I?” “Then you know why I’m agreeing to this.” “Wonwoo, don’t take this on your conscience. I’ll forgive you if you step back right now.” “I won’t forgive myself.” He bends down to your eye level, and takes your chin in his hand again. “It isn’t going to be that bad, is it?”

You let out such a big sigh of relief that you’re sure the air tickles Wonwoo’s palm holding on to your chin.

You don’t fall asleep that night, or rather morning. Wonwoo makes tea, and you sit on the living room couch, an arm’s distance away from each other, chalking out a plan to convince your Appa to go abroad for treatment.

“When did your mother come and tell you all this?”

“The day after the lunch. She called me over.”

You’re our breadwinner now, Y/N. Your father didn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want to bother you anymore. Your mother’s words echo in your mind. Is this what you’d come down to? Were you that male who couldn’t be bothered with any problems of the household just because you earned an income? Had you become those slimy men you’d hated all your life? Just because you had taken over the company didn’t mean you had stopped being their daughter, for god’s sake.

“He wants to die in Korea, he says.”

“That doesn’t mean we let him die without treatment.”

We. Wonwoo has started using it so freely, as if he’s truly considering you an ally like he had said before.

“What are you going to get out of this?” You perch yourself on the kitchen counter, your bare legs dangling next to where Wonwoo sits on his stool. You’re chewing on the granola bar you found in the fridge because you’re suddenly hungry.

Wonwoo looks at you for a second, pensive and thoughtful in the pause before replying. “We don’t have to do forever and always. We can divorce after the treatment is done.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I have my reasons.”

The sunrise is beautiful, another day has begun. Although one tornado in your heart has calmed down, it doesn’t mean you’re completely at peace though. You’re still burning with worry, there are a thousand questions floating in your head. You don’t know the answers to most of them, and you’re scared just like you had been when you had stepped into the adult world on your own footing, for the first time. But unconsciously, you’ve come to realise that you’re not alone this time.

You have Jeon Wonwoo with you.

You drive directly to your sister’s house to tell her about your decision. You realise that she has no idea that your mother has spilled the news about your father’s health to you, when you tell her that you’re only agreeing to this marriage on one condition. She tries to deny it at first, but then she realises it’s a useless task against your obstinacy.

“If you could admit now that you were dating Wonwoo, why didn’t you admit it that day?” she says finally, resignedly.

“So that you could hide Appa’s illness from me forever?

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Firstly, tell me why you’d been stalking me for so long.”

“Not for so long. Ever since Appa found out, he became obsessed with settling you down. It’s become his last wish, you know, that kind of thing. His last project. His last duty. His last task to complete before he… you know. It was just a happy coincidence that as soon as we prodded your chauffeur he spilled that you and Wonwoo had been spending an awful lot of time together.”

You scoff.

“Yeah, well, Wonwoo and I needed to talk over things. Commitment and stuff. Anyway, now we’ll give Appa what he wants. Promise me you won’t object to anything I say. Promise me you and Mom will back me up when I take him to the US for treatment.”

Her eyes soften down, tears brimming on the edge.

“He always loved you more, you know? Probably because you’re exactly like him.” “Unnie…” “No! I’m not jealous or anything. It’s natural to have a favourite child. He’s only human, after all. He found his ideal child in you- responsible and independent. He really sees himself in you, that’s why.”

You hug your sister from the side, as you sit down on the couch. Her belly is quite bulging now, stretched against the fabric of the loose lycra dress.

“If anyone can convince him, it’s you, Y/N-ah. Our maknae. The apple of his eye.” She smiles. There’s something so broken in her eyes, and you hate it. Your Unnie, who you’ve never seen sad. You wonder how much she’s had to hide from you to keep this news a secret. You wonder how long they’d planned to keep it a secret, anyway.

“Do you trust me, Unnie?”

She kisses your forehead, and smiles again, “Yes of course. Where’s this coming from?”

“It’s just… nothing. I just want to know I’m not alone.”

“You never were, sweetheart.”

After that, everything becomes a whirlwind. You barely have time to process things, how fast they happen. Wonwoo informs his parents, there’s another meal shared by the two families. You both still don’t tell anyone the truth about your relationship, and frankly, there’s no need to explain, when both families are so happy with the wedding. Especially your father. His eyes shine, and you stick by his side all evening.

“My little girl’s all grown up now.” He says to you later. You almost cry at the fondness of his words, affection he rarely shows. There’s no more words spoken. There’s no need for words. You tuck him into bed, and pat him to sleep. You don’t want to leave his side at all.

You don’t cross paths with Wonwoo for the week running up to the wedding. There’s a clear division of work- he’s handling the internal logistics, and you’re running the external front. This is nothing but a business project for the two of you. You’ve pushed the worries about the marriage to the back burner, your priority being your father right now. You’ve already booked a treatment plan for him in the US, booked his flight tickets, and sorted everything out. Of course, you haven’t approached the topic with him yet, but you drop hints every day.

You’ve decided to live with your parents until the wedding. You find it harder to stay away from them these days. Somehow, everything reminds you of them, and you’re brought to tears in the middle of a work meeting one day, when you remember how your father had brought you to the first stakeholder meeting when you were 16 years old, to introduce you to the world of business. You don’t want to leave life upto fate anymore. At least not the bits you can help.

Part of managing the external front is speaking to the media. There’s countless questions at your latest press conference. Although the conference is to launch a new product, the journalists seem to be more interested in hearing the truth about the rumours currently floating around. You’d expected this, that’s why you’d timed the release of the rumours and the launch of the product at the same time. The public opinion needs to be in favour of your marriage, otherwise the alliance would hurt you both.

“Y/L/N Y/N-ssi, is it true that you’re soon getting married to Jeon Wonwoo-ssi of Jeon Estates?”

You blush, again a carefully practised move. You’ve spent many a minute in front of a youtube screen last night, trying to perfect the fake blush.

“Are we really going to discuss personal matters at an official conference like this?” Another measured smile, followed by a general laugh rippling across the audience for the sake of being polite. “But yes, it’s true. I won’t try to hide it anymore.”

At that very moment, a thousand questions pop up from all corners. “Anymore? Y/L/N Y/N-ssi, does that mean that you’ve been together for a long time now?” “Can we expect a merger of Jeon Estates with your company, then?” “Is the marriage a business decision or an affair of love?”

You’re another fake smile away from throwing up right now. Their curiosity gets on your nerves, you know that no matter what you say, they’re going to interpret what they really want to. Thankfully Jisung, who is moderating, carefully steps in and stops the journalists from asking any more questions. “We’ll not be taking any more personal questions. With that we come to the end of the conference. If you have any more questions, please write to us and we shall answer them over mail. Thank you for attending today.”

You exit the conference hall quickly, eyes hurting from the flashlights. It’s going to only get worse, you think. Time to brace for impact.

It’s only the night before the wedding that you get the jitters. You’re sitting on the floor of the balcony, looking at the roads of the Seoul night view, stress-eating cotton candy. You can’t believe that this is happening. Would you ever be able to have guessed this is how you’d be getting married? Not that you had ever harboured any ambitions about love or marriage. You’d been happy to see your parents share a loving marriage, and your sister as well. But since a young age, you’d decided that marriage was not for you. Sex? That was necessary. Dating? Perhaps, but casual. Love? Your first relationship in college had convinced you it was not your forte- you’d fallen out of feelings after a few months, and you had never tried to fall in love again. Marriage? Not even on the cards right now. Kids? Probably never. You didn’t think you’d live that long.

And yet, your wedding invite was sitting idle on your lap. Printed on beautiful handmade paper, intrinsically engraved with orchid petals, and the fonts printed out in a loopy serif font, it was really pretty. Posh and classy, like everybody expected. It had been sent out to a few people only, Wonwoo had asked for a small wedding, and you had happily agreed. Having to deceive your parents and sister was bad enough. Lesser the better.

The doorbell rings. You’re taken by surprise, not expecting anyone at this hour. Probably Jisung, perhaps he’s come to drop something off. That boy’s working too hard as well, you need to give him a raise after this entire affair is finished.

But it’s Wonwoo.

“Are you busy?” He asks before even entering.

“No?”

“Can I come in?”

He looks over your figure, the long t-shirt you’re wearing with the shorts that are hidden under the t-shirt. You’re getting more confused by the moment. You open the door wider, and he steps in.

“What’s going on?”

“There are details we need to talk about.”

You take a deep breath, leaning against the wall. Since that conversation at dawn with Wonwoo, you had started guarding yourself against him. Something had changed in your mind- you’d feel more vulnerable next to him, more bared, more naked. Even if he didn’t look at you, you’d feel like you could read your mind all the time.

“Like what?”

“I made a contract. It’s a… guidebook of sorts.” He sits at the sofa, taking out his phone and placing it on your coffee table. He’s wearing his work clothes, so you’re guessing he’s come directly from work. “What’s it about?” You sit next to him, and he pushes your phone towards you. “Do you have a printer? We could print it out. Or you can-” “I’ll get a print. Do you want something?” He leans back on the sofa, but his posture is still stiff. You’ve not seen him like this. It’s almost like he’s nervous. “No. I need to leave quickly, so it’s best if you can go through this quickly. I don’t have time to waste.” You roll your eyes and stand up, keeping your knee perched on the sofa, terribly close to where his hand is. “What’s this attitude? We’re getting married tomorrow, and this is how you’re going to be?” “Well, what did you expect? Just because I agreed to marry and help you out, doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly be in love with you.” “Help me out? I didn’t fucking need your help, Wonwoo!” “Really? Your desperation told me something else that night.” He’s standing up now too, and it feels like he’s towering over you on purpose to make you feel small. You take a step back, he doesn’t move forward. It’s not push and pull, it’s gravity unwinding.

“Listen, we can still call this off. I don’t want to be an object of your pity.”

“Pity? I wanted to help you, Y/N. There’s a difference, or is your brain too ego-clouded to understand?”

“Wonwoo, I could marry anyone-”

“And yet, it was me you came to!”

“It was convenient! I couldn’t really marry … say, Jisung, when my parents had proof that we’d been sleeping together!”

“Oh, so it’s Jisung now-”

“It was a damn example!” You’re shouting now, but his voice is still low and hoarse. It creates goosebumps on your skin.

“If that’s who you want to marry, you can go ahead. You better know that I have no desire to be wedded to you tomorrow!” He takes a step forward, and you step back. “What do you think I am, huh? Your toy? Today you want to fuck, tomorrow you want to end things, the next day you come begging at my door to blow your mind with my dick, and the day after that you want to get fucking married? You don’t think keeping up with your plot twists are stressful for me? Do you think I’m getting off on your mood swings? I am helping you, because you’re in a dire situation. Don’t you dare spin this narrative to anything else, because it is not charity or love for you that’s motivating me to step into this hell of a marriage that I can see coming.”

With every word he utters, he steps closer and closer, and you keep walking back until your back hits the wall. And then he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that you can see the exact dilation of his pupils even beyond his glasses. “I don’t need your help, Wonwoo. I’m not a damsel in distress.” He closes his eyes for a second, breathing in. When his eyes do open again, they’re different- darker, yet with more clarity, less angry and yet more dangerous. He leans down, and for a second, for a delusional mindless moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. You part your lips, waiting for impact, as he tilts his head ever so slightly, all while staring into your soul.

“I don’t give a fuck about you, Y/N. I don’t care. I’m just repaying an old debt.”

Then he steps back and picks up his phone from the coffee table. “I’ll mail it to you. Don’t be a brat and make sure to read it.”

You’re still stuck against the wall like an insect, too stunned to move. Before he walks out of the door, he says without looking at you, “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

The wedding dress is simple, nothing in frills. You see it for the first time when you wear it on the morning of your wedding. As you sit in your dressing room, revising your vows, your sister enters. She’s all but jumping in excitement. “Darling, why so serious?” She grabs your hands and smiles widely at you. “Today’s your big day! Don’t think about Appa’s sickness today, or work stuff, or anything at all. Your wedding day isn’t going to come back, so you make sure to make the most of it!” You wish you could laugh at her face, her words seeming ridiculous to you. You wish she wasn’t so excited, it would only save her the disappointment she’d have to face later.

So you force a smile. “Is it time? I’m just nervous. What if I forget my vows?” “Then you forget them. You love Wonwoo, Y/N-ie. You can just declare your love freely. You don’t need to stick to a script. Go ahead and curse him if you like!” You do laugh at this, and she joins you too. “There! That’s my girl. Honestly, discovering that you and Wonwoo… together… it was a shock for us. Like, we’d never thought of you both ever liking each other. But then, it made sense. Especially what he had said that night, I remember. That’s the moment I knew, something was definitely up” You gawk, “What night?” She giggles, “That night at the party. You know? Don’t act dumb, cutie.” She wriggles her eyebrows and it dawns on you what exactly she was referring to. Fuck. Of course she had heard, fuck Wonwoo for being so damn loud.

You got out of your head, when someone called you to the hall, telling you that it’s time. You slowly make your way out of your dressing room, making sure your dress doesn’t get spoiled. Your father waits outside the room, dressed elegantly.

“Are you ready?”

There’s an odd peace in his eyes, as he smiles at you with pride.

Fuck it. Thank god you’re getting married early. Otherwise who’d walk you down the aisle… if you got too late?

“Yes, Appa.” You smile back, and loop your arm through his outstretched arm.

The gates of the hall open up, revealing a beautifully decorated banquet, with an announcer standing in the centre, to conduct the ceremony. All the guests turn to look at you, dressed to their nines. But you’ve got eyes on only one person in the room.

For the first time in your life, you think Wonwoo looks beautiful. Attraction based on looks was barely something you experienced with him, but today you realise why people fell for him like dominos. He looks absolutely regal in his tuxedo- simple, yet that’s what suits him perfectly. You think, you’ve never seen Wonwoo wear anything excessive, always minimalistic, and really he looks best like that. Because he doesn’t need any accessories, his face does enough.

“Go, sweetheart,” your father leaves you midway the walkway, and you realise you have to walk the rest of the way on your own. You bow a little to Appa, and then look up front again. Your eyes meet Wonwoo’s and your heart races. He looks too pretty to be real, and yet you find yourself walking towards him. The entire audience erupts into applause when Wonwoo takes a few steps forward and extends his hand. You take it, and he accompanies you to your place, dropping your hand only after a slight peck pressed on the back of your hand. The crowd erupts in cheers again, and for the first time in your life, you blush genuinely.

You stand facing the announcer, not daring to look at the man next to you. You have enough time to look at him anyway.

The rest of the wedding ceremony went off peacefully. After reciting your vows perfectly, hand in Wonwoo’s hand, avoiding his eye contact desperately, and exchanging the rings, the announcer asked you to kiss. Well, that was easy. He didn’t use tongue, thankfully, otherwise you would’ve moaned in public. Even the drinks and dinner arrangement afterwards was easy. Smiling and small talk came like free flow to you after so many years.

The hard part comes later, when you both sit in your designated limousine, exhausted after the long ceremonies of the day. Your feet hurt in the heels, and using the washroom had been a pain in the dress, so you’d desperately held on to your bladder. You’re counting down the minutes to going home, and all you want is peace.

But Wonwoo, like so many other things, is not on the same page as you.

“Where are we going?” You ask, noticing that the car’s heading in the opposite direction as your house.

“To my house.”

“Wait, what?”

He looks up from his phone. “Didn’t you read the guide?”

“Wonwoo, I’m not jobless, you know.”

“I fucking knew it. Right, you’re too busy being a brat.” He mutters under his breath, before opening a can of a fizzy drink from the mini cooler inside the car, and looking outside the window.

“I haven’t even packed my stuff, Wonwoo. I can shift in once I’ve got my stuff ready.”

“You don’t know how many eyes are following us? What will the media think if we get off at different apartments tonight? It was hard enough stopping my parents from booking us a honeymoon suite.”

You sigh. He’s right. But he doesn’t stop talking.

“You’ve got time now, read the guidebook.”

“Just tell me what’s in it, Wonwoo. Stop making such a fuss about it. Also what the fuck is a guidebook without my suggestions.”

“If you’d read it, you would have made suggestions, darling. I wasted my time going to your place last night. Anyway, if you need anything urgently from your apartment, I’ll send my secretary to fetch it for you.”

“No thanks. I don’t need anything.”

Thank god you’re familiar with Wonwoo’s apartment, because you immediately lock yourself in the bedroom and take off your dress. Once it’s off, you unlock the room, and find an exasperated Wonwoo standing outside. “Woman, why are you monopolising territory already?”

“Just go change in the guest room, Wonwoo.” You push past him, dressed in underwear, carrying your heavy dress and laying it across the living room sofa to avoid creases from forming. Then you head straight into the bathroom to clean your makeup and take a shower. 30 minutes later you emerge, and Wonwoo’s nowhere to be seen.

After a few minutes you find him on the small personal rooftop that extends from his apartment through a small flight of stairs. You’d never gone to the roof, but now you see it has a nice bench on it, and is surrounded by lights.

Wonwoo’s smoking.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I didn’t know you were going to hoard my space as soon as you entered my house.”

He doesn’t look at you, still gazing out at the Seoul skyline.

“You could’ve used the other one.”

You breathe in once, and then speak again.

“I’m going to bed. I’m really tired.”

“Wait.” He finally turns around, and you can see his hair is completely messed up and his eyebags are visible under his glasses again.

“Did you take my clothes?”

“Just a pajama shirt.”

He nods, seeing what you’re wearing. The cool breeze makes your skin tingle, almost making you regret taking off your bra and wearing only panties under the shirt.

“Goodnight.”

“You’re not coming along?”

He turns away again. Well, fuck it. It’s not like you’re going to butter him up for a response. And yet when you go downstairs again, you make sure to sleep on the left side of the bed, like you’d always done whenever you’d slept together before. You don’t know why you do it, but you go to sleep assuming he’ll eventually come to bed.

He doesn’t. The next morning, you wake up to see the other side of the bed absolutely empty and untouched. He’s even taken away his pillow and blanket and you suddenly find yourself shivering. When you’re awake enough, you squint at the clock on the wall and figure out that it’s almost eleven in the morning. Quite late for someone like you. But then, it has been an exhausting day.

Did Wonwoo not sleep at all?

You put these thoughts away when you stumble into the washroom, nearly slipping because your step is unbalanced. But that minor shock completely jerks you awake at least.

Once you’ve brushed your teeth (without even realising how your toothbrush had magically appeared in Wonwoo’s bathroom even though you hadn’t packed and brought a thing), you walk out of the room. Again, there’s no sign of Wonwoo. The house is humid, from no windows being open, so you gently open up a few sources of ventilation. As the noise from the outside world begins to float into the house, the silence gets broken and you feel less claustrophobic. Sunshine falls on the simple upholstery and decorations of the house, and it makes everything shine. It’s a hot day, but at least it’s a sunny day. You hate gloomy days.

You quickly search for Wonwoo in every room. And you eventually notice that the bed in the guest room seems to have been slept in last night. Was that where Wonwoo had slept last night?

It didn’t make sense. It’s not like you two had not shared a bed earlier. Sure, Wonwoo had never stayed in the same bed with you for longer than an hour after the sex, unless it was a marathon until the morning, and you rarely ever woke up next to his warm body, but it seemed absurd that he’s treating you like a complete stranger. It’s not like the movies, for fucks’ sake. You’re familiar with each other, even if you’re not in love. And sharing a bed isn’t a big deal.

Exactly Y/N. So why are you making it such a big deal?

There’s a printout of something on the coffee table. You head over and see that it is the ‘guidebook’ he’s kept blabbering about. Why is he insisting that you read it? You have an impulse to go and dump it in the dustbin and push his limits a little further, but then you have pity on him. But it’s not like you wanted to stay with him either. He’s the one who made you come and live with him. So technically, you shouldn’t feel any remorse or pity. So you do dump the prints in the dustbin without a second look at it.

That’s when you hear your phone ring. “Hello, I’m speaking from ABC Packages. We’re here to shift your packages from your old house to your new residence. We’re waiting outside the door, are you at home?” Huh? “I’m sorry, who asked you to do this? Do you have a name?” “Yes Ms. Y/L/N. The order came from a Jeon Wonwoo-ssi.” No wonder. “Aaah. Okay, just wanted to confirm,” you quickly say to avoid any suspicion. “Yes I’m home. I’ll open the door.”

And so the next hour is spent in a flurry of bringing in boxes, and when the delivery persons leave, you open them all. There seems to be enough space in Wonwoo’s walk-in closet for your stuff, which isn’t much at all. So you hang up all your formals, which form the majority of your clothing, and stash the rest of it in the shelves. Your shoes are also lesser than Wonwoo’s and you barely have any accessories and makeup apart from essentials. The problem arises with your underwear and … other personal belongings. You’re not sure if Wonwoo would appreciate opening his underwear drawer to find your box of dildos stashed there. But there’s no other space, so he’ll just have to deal with it.

Thank God you’d taken the day off. Jisung had offered that staying away from work would make the impression of the honeymoon more imminent, and you’d agreed. Although it does seem like Wonwoo had gone to work all the same. And so, you’re left all alone in the house, and while it’s a little odd, you sit at almost every surface of the apartment to get used to it. Sure, you’ve been sat at all of these before, in various positions, as Wonwoo had fucked you, but it feels different now under the sunlight. You’re not surprised to find Wonwoo’s fridge stocked almost completely with ample groceries, so making lunch isn’t a hassle (apart from the fact that you barely know how to cook anything). But all-in-all, it’s not a tedious day, and you’re settling in nicely.

Until Wonwoo comes home, blazer on his arm and his hair messy. He lets himself in, but you’re sitting on the kitchen counter, checking out what’s kept where. “Oh, you’re here.” You turn around and see him flunking down on the sofa, legs sprawled out. “Are you that tired?” He doesn’t answer at first, just stares at you for a second too long. “I am. It’s been a long day.” “I’m making coffee, do y-” “No. I’m going to the gym now.”

Gym takes longer than you imagine. It’s well past 10 pm when Wonwoo makes his way back, and you’ve already finished your dinner of cup ramen and ice cream. He doesn’t bother to look at you and wordlessly enters the guest bathroom. You consider entering the guest room and waiting for him, and then talking to him about why he slept separately, but then you drop it. You know he won’t answer you properly, and it’ll be a waste of effort. You sigh and make your way to the bedroom, leaving the door unlocked and slightly ajar so that he knows he’s still invited inside.

Wonwoo and you arrive last at the little gathering your family has set up to celebrate the one month anniversary of your marriage. Wonwoo’s family is here too, along with Kyungmin Oppa and your sister, and it’s a big group even for the large sprawling, and largely empty house, where you parents reside. You’d think it’s easy to get lost in the crowd, but not when you’re the newly wed couple who’s the focus of the party.

“I’m so disappointed y’all aren’t going on a honeymoon,” your sister endlessly complains, and she’s completely backed by the two mothers. “Yes!” Your mother joins in. Just like the rest of the family members, she seems to have bought your wedding as 100% real as well, although she should’ve been the first to connect the dots that you’re only doing this sham wedding for the sake of your father’s wishes. “I have itineraries planned for Bali, for Scandinavia, for the Maldives, or even for Japan, if you don’t want to go too far!” She giggles, and the other ladies do too. You don’t understand what’s so funny. Especially when you know how little conversation you’ve shared with your husband over the last month, in spite of not being strangers.

In fact that makes it worse, you think. Wonwoo’s wearing a dark blue blazer over a white shirt which puts his pecs right in your face. You know what it’d be like to touch them, and bite all over them. The way he has his left hand pressed against the small of your back means he knows what it’d be like to just drop his hand an inch lower and feel your ass against his palm. Andit is worse because even though you know each other intimately, there’s so little emotional connection you feel with him now. Whatever vulnerability had developed around him when he’d first agreed to the wedding had become hardened again under his cold attitude, and you’re back to just who you were when you’d grinded up against him at your sister’s engagement party. You curse yourself for thinking that you could ever feel a nice way about Jeon Wonwoo, because honestly, look at the man. He’s probably never regretted any decision taken after midnight as much as he’s regretted the decision to marry you.

When you sit down at the dinner table, you notice him not eating any of the seafood. You wonder if he’s just not hungry or rudely ignoring the special grilled fish that is your Appa’s speciality. It’s probably the latter- some testosterone shit. And yet, he’s speaking charmingly smoothly with your Appa, even though Wonwoo’s not much of a talker and you know that.

When he sits in the corner of the room, smiling and talking to your mother, you wonder what lies he’s spewing. You’ve noticed how easily lies come to him at the wedding itself, when he’d spinned tale upon tale about your ‘love story’. I fell for her, honestly, for the first time, when she’d walked into my class in ninth grade. You had scoffed, remembering the disgusted expression he had worn in reality, when he’d seen you being introduced into the class. Of course, we’ve known each other for a long time now. Naturally, there have been ups and downs. Gosh, this reminds me of the time we’d gone on that date to the amusement park after our last day at school, huh? We’d fought so bitterly after that, you’d think we were enemies. Haha. You’d nearly laughed at that- your school had taken you all out to the amusement park on the last day of classes, and somehow Wonwoo and you’d been seated together on all the damn rides. Fuck him for laughing at you for becoming scared on the roller coaster rides and then pretending to take care of you when you had passed out in his arms at the very peak of the ride. You bet the teachers had cooed at him for being so chivalrous, when in reality it was a smack to your face.

When he leaves early, and leans in to press a kiss to your lips, you almost cringe away. It feels like you’re kissing a stranger even though his lips and the stubble on his jaw feel so familiar. This is the first time he’s shown you affection in front of others. It’s all a show, you know. You gotta do what’s needed to keep the show running. “I’ll see you at home, sweetheart,” he says before pulling away and tucking your hair behind your ears. You search in his eyes for honesty, and all you find is a dark abyss.

But it seems like your family buys the facade again. Banking on the fact that they seem pleased with your husband, and on your good choice of marriage, you finally broach the real issue with your father. You’re both sitting at the patio, sipping whisky after everyone’s left and the two of you have some peace after a long day of chattering and feasting.

“Appa, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Yes, Y/N-ah?”

You pause before answering. Finally, you decide to take the blunt route, knowing that there’s no easy way about this.

“Come with me to the US for your treatment.”

He sighs. It’s a sigh that sounds almost like a cough, and it makes you wonder how much phlegm is stored in his damaged lungs now. You wonder how you didn’t notice it before.

“Who told you?”

“Eomma.”

“Of course she did.” He sighs again, and looks at you. “Are you asking me or commanding me?”

“Appa, I’m not your boss. I can’t command you.”

“But you’re my daughter. I know how children feel when they think their parents aren’t listening to them.”

You smile. “I’ve always been stubborn, you know. I’ve got it in my genes.”

“Genes I’m proud of. How much has your mother told you? Did she mention I’m in stage 4 and it’s practically incurable?”

“Yes, and no. There are still chances to cure it, Appa, if only you’ll listen to me.”

“Sweetie-”

“Why aren’t you giving this another chance? I didn’t know you to be a person who easily gives up!” You can feel yourself getting angry, tears pooling in your eyes. It’s stupid how he’s arguing against it, illogical, meaningless. Your heart breaks every time you look at his eyes- they’re old, wrinkled, and yet the fire hasn’t gone out. Does he really want to end it all this fast?

“You know, I get where you’re coming from. But… I don't want to prolong suffering, Y/N-ah. It’s time, I can feel it. There’s no point being a vegetable pushed about in a wheelchair and drinking soup for the rest of my life. There’s no point living if I have to just gobble medicines all day and not drink any more port wine. There’s no point living a life which isn’t even a life, it’s just a laboratory experiment.”

You do burst out crying at this. You want to throttle his neck, and shake him, and ask how could he say such things.

“Aaah, Y/N-ah! Don’t cry-”

“You’re making me cry, Appa! You didn’t even tell me! Were you just planning to sit on it till it’s too late?”

“It is never too late, Y/N-ah. Appa is always here with you, even if I can’t be here physically.”

The tears don’t stop, he pulls you closer, until you’re wailing on his shoulder, and he hugs you with one arm.

“It’s not fair,” you mumble in between tears, hiccups interspersed in your words. Then he only rubs your back and you gently quieten down. “I don’t care, Appa. Come to the US with me. I’ve spoken to doctors, they’ve said there are chances to improve.” He smiles wistfully, looking at your face, which is childishly covered in snot and wet tears.

“Appa, you have to promise me you’ll try. For me, please. I’m not ready for this.”

“It will be a waste of time and effort. I would rather you pay attention to your career. And also your marriage.” “There’s not much to pay attention to. Wonwoo and I are busy almost all the time,” you try to dismiss him. “But you are young, and in love. I should believe there’s nothing other than your love life you should pay more attention to.” You sigh. It’s sad, just how well you and Wonwoo have deceived them all, even your most observant father. You wonder how it is possible, given how distant the two of you are- emotionally, always, and physically, recently. “There is something called urgency, Appa. There’s an order to how things need to be done.”

There’s a few long minutes of silence. Your father finishes the drink in his glass and looks at the stars in the sky. You, for one moment, are sure he’ll put up another fight. “You’ve never asked me anything with so much insistence, Y/N-ah.” “You’ve not hidden anything from me before, either.” There’s another pause. The waiting is tiring, and you’re going to cry again.

“Alright. I’ll do it, Y/N. But on one condition.” You hang on to his words, waiting for him to continue. “One chance. I’m not going back again if there is a relapse. I will not push my fate to a sour ending. You go back to your life, where I want to see you happy. And I will let nature take its due course.” You dare to smile, too afraid he’s going to take back his words. But then he smiles back, and beckons you to lie down on his lap, as he begins talking about something new he;s recently read, and you’re grateful for the distraction.

That night when you go home, you find Wonwoo playing in his gaming room. It’s a small room, probably meant to be a spare bedroom, or a kid’s bedroom, but he has an elaborate gaming setup there, and he locks himself up in it every weekend. Sometimes you wonder if he’s dead, but then you hear his cocky, hushed whispers of victory when you lean on the door. He’s always been good at games.

Today the door is slightly open, and you think for a deluded moment, that he perhaps left it open so that he could hear you enter the house. So you lightly knock and he turns around in his gaming chair. You realise he’s wearing a tank top, his hair hidden under a hideous beanie, and for a second, he doesn’t look like the brooding adult you’re married to.

“I spoke to Appa tonight.”

He looks up at you and takes off his headphones. He nods once, understanding immediately.

“I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, and I don’t want to delay the appointment.”

He stares at you for a second, then replies, “When is your flight?”

“Afternoon.”

“And how long are you going to be away?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps a month, perhaps longer. I don’t want to leave until it’s all done. I want to see it to the end.”

He nods again, standing up from his chair. The screen flashes something about the game being paused, and his character awkwardly bounces about in the game field. The character has black hair and wears glasses like Wonwoo.

“Pack enough, then. I’ll be here when you come back.”

You nod, and he smiles. This is why you got married in the first place, afterall. You bet he’s glad to get the wheels moving as quickly as possible so that this farce can come down before he’s so tired of it that your mere sight repels you.

The next three months pass by like a whirlwind, a miracle from heaven. Because not only are the doctors extremely positive about your father’s condition, but also hopeful for complete treatment. A part of you is too wary of everything going too great, too good to be true, and you’re crying every night when you lie sleepless in your hotel bed. There’s not a single second you’re free from anxiety, and there’s literally nothing else in your mind except praying that every minute of the treatment goes well. You’ve never been so nervous, except when you’d been in college and getting your papers approved by your professors and they’d laughed straight up in your face at your ambitiousness. You get periodic calls from your colleagues, the managers and Jisung, most often. But if there’s a perk of being a CEO, it’s that your employees know when to respect your personal space, unless there’s an absolute emergency. Relatives call you, your sister calls you ever so often. You hope she doesn’t go into labour with your father still stuck on the hospital bed, but it’s only a small part of her worries, you’re sure. So you assure her about everything being alright and encourage to focus on her pregnancy being perfectly smooth, although Kyungmin Oppa tells you that her mood swings are more distinct now with more things to worry about. The baby kicks for the first time, and you wish you could be there. You don’t want to miss a lot of firsts, but it’s a small tradeoff you don’t mind making.

There’s only one person who doesn’t call you, Wonwoo. He probably knows that you don’t want to be disturbed, but sometimes you have thoughts. Thoughts about how different your life was just a few months ago. Thoughts about how your marriage is due to be annulled as soon as this business ends. Thoughts about whether you should have let Wonwoo ever into your life. Thoughts about how he feels about this entire thing. You know how he’d said he had just wanted to help you, but was it a moment of pity or a calculated decision? Was he actually humane enough to want to do this? You’re unsure, just like you’re unsure about how much you even know him. Sure, you’ve known him for your entire damn life, but not really.

Firstly, there’s the matter of the wedding. The fact that Wonwoo didn’t actually need to be roped in to convince your dad is a surprising issue. You hadn’t expected Appa to be so pliant to your words and your tears, when he had supposedly protested so much in front of Unnie and Eomma. Well, there perhaps was something called a favourite child. Secondly, there’s the concern of what happens now. It’s already been four months since your wedding, and it’s almost mid-December now. You’re 100% sure that Wonwoo will not be interested to drag on this farce for longer than necessary, so you mentally take notes to draft up divorce letters and take them to him as soon as you return to Seoul. Your PR team’s done a fairly good job in hiding the fact that you and Wonwoo have barely spent any time together since the wedding. So it’s not going to take much to silence the media if they raise eyebrows at such a quick divorce. Family will be easy to convince, as well. We just don’t have enough time for a full-on relationship now. We’re focused on our careers, that’s where our priorities lie. Honestly, this was why we were so hesitant about marriage in the first place. See, we told you, we weren't made for this relationship business. If only you hadn’t practically stalked us into it, we wouldn’t have to disappoint you all like this.

And what happens after that?

Do you remain exes who smile at each other at social gatherings? Do you remain fuckbuddies, forgetting about your trash past altogether? Do you become strangers who don’t even bother to remember birthdays?

You’re feeling dizzy, so you pass out on the couch in your hotel room.

It’s New Years’ Eve when you return to Seoul, and nobody can stop the smile on your face from breaking out every three seconds. Your father’s body may still be weak from chemotherapy, and he may have to visit the hospital every other week to get follow-ups on his treatment, but he’s alive and the spark in his eyes haven’t been snuffed out. There’s hope, infinite hope, and you feel whole again. There’s incredible joy blooming in your heart, even if all the trees are barren and all the world is grey. The doctors say that it is a godsent gift, and there can be a relapse, but the chances are low enough to be confident that there’s going to be at least five more years of happy life for your father. For someone who was praying for five more minutes, it’s a harvest too bountiful, and you feel like a person born again.

The happiness lasts the entire journey back home, back into the wide waiting arms of your mother who had never gone to the US because she was too scared of being there. You can see how the stress has taken a toll on her, as her figure seems frailer than before, and there’s no longer than glow radiating off her face. And yet, this gift is more than she, or you could ever have asked for, so you take what you can get. Your father’s organs haven’t failed yet, and he can eat better things than soup, so your mother’s cooked specially for him, although she hasn’t entered the kitchen in years. It’s softly cooked galbi and prawn pajeon, and he devours the meal after months of hospital food. You stay the night at your parent’s home, as your sister comes over along with her husband. It’s a great family reunion, and you feel like you could die in this happiness.

Except reality strikes when you wake up the next morning and realise that you should go to your actual home now. You wonder if he’s going to be at home or not, given that it’s the New Year and he may have plans with others.

But there he is, as you let yourself in through the main door, and he locks eyes with you sitting on the couch, wearing shorts and no shirt, his hair quite wet. Apart from the fact that this is the first time you’ve seen him wear shorts, nothing’s changed. He’s still exactly the same. It’s cold outside, and the journey here has frozen your limbs, but the house is warm as fuck, just how Wonwoo’s always liked it.

You can’t stop yourself. You don’t stop yourself when you run halfway across the living room and hug him without waiting for him to say anything.

To his credit, he doesn’t say anything. He simply hugs you back. His body is so warm in spite of being shirtless, and you can smell the fresh soap clinging to his body. He rubs one hand on your spine and for a second you feel tears threatening to flow down your face. Did you miss him?

“How’s your father?”

“Much better. There is hope.”

You can feel his hands moving more insistently on your back, stretching through all your muscles. It feels comforting in a way you’ve never received from Wonwoo. He doesn’t ask anything else, and you don’t mind.

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

You’re bent over on the floor, unpacking your suitcase in your own room when he casually saunters into his walk-in and you don’t pay heed. It’s only when he walks out wearing a black leather jacket, a turtleneck, a light gold chain dangling on his neck, and fancy sunglasses perched on his nose that you turn around to look at him. You’re shocked at seeing him like this- you realise you haven’t seen him in casuals in so long. You haven’t seen him in so long.

“You’re going out?”

“Yeah, it is the New Year. I have a party with my friends.”

You’re too busy ogling him, so he asks, “Don’t you have plans?”

“Yeah, I’m going to unpack my stuff.”

“You could do that tomorrow. Going out with friends on New Years’ will not happen tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. You assume I have friends. It shouldn’t be news to him, you’ve told him this before. And yet, you feel embarrassed again. You didn’t know Wonwoo had friends, but it’s wrong of you to think every workaholic has no life like you.

“No. It’s been a tiring few months… I’d rather just sleep in.”

Wonwoo, surprisingly, sits down on your bed, facing you, and removes his sunglasses. You can see his pretty eyes from up close, and you realise that he’s never really sat on this bed since you’ve come to his house. “Do you want to come with me? They’ve been asking about you for quite some time now.” You look at him silently, “Nah, I don’t… don’t want to barge in.” “You won’t be.” “You’ll get late if you wait for me now.” “It’s not a big deal, most of them will be late anyway.” “Are you going to a nightclub?” “No, we’re going to a barbecue party.”

Small, private, cosy. You’ll definitely be barging in.

“No Wonwoo, I don’t want to go somewhere where I’m not welcome. And anyway, I’m cool with whatever you’ve told your friends about us.” “I haven’t said anything in particular.” “Well, then you’re good at avoiding things.” “I am. You must’ve been away too long if you’ve forgotten about this.”

You want to run away. He’s surely talking about avoiding being your husband- and he’s proud about it as well.

“Then you might avoid it further. There’s no need for me to make a public appearance.”

Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long. His jaw hardens, and you can see his tongue in his cheek. Then he gently pulls your hand into his own, and carefully touches your fingers, purposely avoiding the bit around your wedding ring. The way your fingers seem much smaller compared to his makes you feel a certain way. You pull your hand back, but he doesn’t let go. He ends up pulling you up to stand, so that he’s still sitting on the edge of the bed and you’re standing right in front of him. His fingers are still laced around your own, and you feel sparks at the touch after months.

“I’m going to show my wife off to my friends. And your excuses are pathetic, darling. You know you want me to show you off as well.” His fingers tighten their grip against your wrist, and you feel the vein in your wrist throbbing around his touch. “So get dressed nicely. I know you clean up well.”

It takes you a solid ten minutes to find something good to wear. Sure, you’re not big on fashion, but you like to look fit for the occasion. Especially if Wonwoo’s dressed up all fancily like that. But when you finally step out of the closet, you’re wearing a beige corset top with a black skirt, and a long black coat with tiny gold details. You find Wonwoo still sitting on your bed, scrolling through his phone. “How do I look?” you ask at the same time as he raises his head to look at you. After checking you out twice from top to toe, he nods slowly, but before you can exhale in relief, he says, “Will you feel cold in that skirt?” “No. And before you ask, I’m not wearing stockings. The coat will be enough.” “Don’t complain if you get cold later. Come down in five.”

When you’re finally in the car, you ask him if you should buy something for the host, since it is New Years’ afterall. “If we bought something for him, the others will be mad at us for not buying something for them too.” You laugh it off, wondering how that could be possible, and proceed to stop at a nearby store to buy one of the trendy perfumes that’s popular amongst men these days.

You find, not even half an hour later, that it is possible.

“Wonwoongi! You only brought presents for Mingoo? None for hyung? How will hyung survive without your generosity?” A lanky, beautiful man immediately latches himself onto Wonwoo’s arm as soon as you both enter Mingyu’s house. It’s a pretty bungalow situated a little far from the city, and decorated extravagantly with lights. It’s only after Wonwoo makes it through the first few people crowding near the entryway that everybody notices you.

There’s a collective gasp going around when everyone turns around and looks at you, smiles galore. And then they all start speaking together, and you get overwhelmed. Wonwoo shushes them all in an uncharacteristically loud voice, and announces, “Since y’all wanted to meet her, this is Y/L/N Y/N, my wife,” and you bow deeply to everyone as everyone greets you back. When you stand upright again, you stumble a bit, not having noticed the thick carpet, and Wonwoo’s quick to grab your hand. He casually interlocks his fingers with yours, and you both make your way into the apartment.

The first man you meet is Mingyu, the host. You’re shocked to see him, not expecting to see him as the host. So he’s the host. He’s become taller than Wonwoo now, his face still identical to what you remember from high school. It sparks an annoyance in you, as scenes from each sports day of your high school years flashes by. There wasn’t a single time when you hadn’t defeated Mingyu in tennis, badminton and squash. You really loved playing racket sports, and it seemed that so did Mingyu. But not just that- Mingyu’s arrogance was even more childish than that of Wonwoo because he was insanely arrogant about his looks and the number of girls (and boys) thirsting over him every day. Although you hardly met him outside school because he didn’t belong to a chaebol family, you’d actively glare at each other every time you met in school. You wonder what version of these same memories flashed in his mind as you stand in front of him now.

“It’s been a long time, Y/N-ah. Didn’t imagine that you and Wonwoo would end up married.” It’s a genuine smile, and for a moment, you wonder if you’d had the wrong impression about him all along. “We didn’t imagine it either, trust me.” Wonwoo smiles, and it breaks you out of your reverie. You hand Mingyu the gift, and say, “Thank you for extending your invitation to me.” “There’s no need to be so formal, Y/N-ah. But what’s the need for the gift?” “Since I’m visiting you for the first time… as Mrs. Jeon, I felt I shouldn’t come empty-handed.” Mingyu giggles and nudges Wonwoo’s arm, “Mrs Jeon, hmm? Feels like a Hollywood movie. Thanks Y/N, I’ll use it well!”

Then Wonwoo introduces you to the rest of his friend group one by one. You meet Seungcheol, who you remember all too well. “How the tables have turned, huh?” He chuckles, before handing you a glass of wine. There’s a familiarity in his mysterious smile, that twinkling look in his eyes, that elite tilt of his chin, as if he owned the world, which used to annoy the hell out of you, because to you, he seemed to be the stereotype of the worthless chaebol heirs who’d do nothing in their lives except eat out of their parents’ money. And yet, he’s made it big on his own, if news reports are correct, and perhaps you can find some respect for him now. “I hope we get along better this time, Seungcheol Oppa.” He’s the only man from Wonwoo’s high school group who you would call Oppa, and that was only to tease him because he’d been voted as the Sexiest Oppa of the Year at the end of the high school year. Seungcheol seems to remember that too, because he laughs, and you realise it’s a fond memory, no matter how much annoyance it had sparked in you back then.

Then there’s Jeonghan, who’d been that beautiful man who’d spoken to Wonwoo earlier with that aegyo nickname of Wonwoongie. who disarms you instantly with his jokes. Joshua, who’s introduced as the gentleman, but you can see the mischief in his doe-like eyes, much too good-looking for his own good. There’s Soonyoung and Seokmin, who are already playing beer pong, laughing and spilling a lot of the beer on the table (and the carpet, but they implore you to not tell Mingyu that). Seungkwan referees them, while he’s wrapped around his boyfriend, who’s extremely charming and interesting. Vernon and you speak for a good two minutes before Seungkwan interrupts you both and takes you to meet Jun. Jun is sitting on the other side of the room, with his girlfriend, Lihua. She’s also Chinese but speaks fluent Korean, as she’s a teacher in Seoul, as she explains.You find out that Jun is an actor in both Korean and Chinese tv shows, and his visuals explain a lot of it, for sure. Then there’s Minghao, who’s busy discussing Met Gala looks over the years with two women, Soyeon (Jihoon’s fiance) and Aeri (Chan’s girlfriend). Chan and Jihoon themselves are missing, but soon you find them in the kitchen, helping Mingyu and his fiance, Hayi, to make cocktails.

And when the introductions finally end, Wonwoo and you flop down on a couch in one corner, both tired from all that smiling and small talk.

“Are you sighing so loudly because they’re not nice?” He teases you, as he place an arm around the head of the sofa, successfully cradling you without even touching your body. “Wonwoo. I didn’t know you were still close to Seungcheol and Mingyu.” “Hmm… should I have warned you before bringing you here?” You turn your face away from him, “A warning would have been nice. I wasn’t really ready to see Mingyu’s annoying smile again after all those years of his delinquency.” Wonwoo laughs, and you continue, “But I’m curious. What did you tell them about me that they’re welcoming me with open arms? Did you tell them that I’ve completely changed or something?” “No. They had their reservations too, but it’s not like they could do anything. I told them only a day before we got married.” You open your mouth to refute, but quickly become silent. Not for the first time, you wonder, how had Wonwoo adapted into the marriage so quickly in spite of having nothing to gain and everything to lose. It reminds you of the divorce papers you had asked Jisung to prepare, so you don’t say anything.

Jeonghan comes and sits on your other side too. “Oh, we have another person joining our lazy line, I see.” He giggles as you look confused. “Wonwoo, Hao and I are the lazy line. We run out of battery first. We can’t keep up with the other over-energetic boy.” “But the absolute first is Wonwoo, of course. There’s no end to group photos where he’s yawning in all the shots.” Minghao strolls in, grabs Wonwoo by the arm, calling him to the other room where they’re all playing billiards, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan on the sofa.

“So, Y/N, I hear that you and Wonwoo have been friends since school?” You laugh, because he can’t have heard that. You know Jeonghan knows you both have never really been friends. He laughs too, and you realise how easily he’s prodded right into the truth. “It’s complicated,” you say safely, as you get a feeling you can’t hide from this man. “And yet I think you’re perfectly fit to be Mrs Jeon, from what I hear.” You laugh again, because genuinely it is a funny statement. You think he’s making a joke- probably about how you both hated each other’s guts in school, or had an equal temper. But no, he’s all serious and he repeats his statement with more sincerity. You twist your lips in confusion, and ask him, “How can you say that?” “Because I know Wonwoo very well. That’s it.” He then laughs a bit and continues, “They call me the Eomma of the group for a reason, you know. They’re all my kids. Even Cheol and Shua.”

And then Wonwoo calls you both to the barbecue which had begun on the outdoor patio.

The party may have begun awkwardly for you but it soon becomes quite exciting. The temperature continues to fall as it becomes darker in the night sky, but everyone’s gathered around the barbecue grill outside so you don’t want to move. The girls are mostly sitting together, sitting cocktails that Mingyu prepares for you, winking every way until he reaches his fiance who exaggeratedly winks back. You sit sandwiched between Aeri and Wonwoo, and while Wonwoo is busy discussing games with Seungcheol, Aeri doesn’t let you feel isolated. You’re included into the group surprisingly quickly, and soon you’re playing drinking games with them. Games you’ve never played before, so you’re obviously totally incapable at defeating them. They seem to play these every other weekend, while you’ve never even heard of these game rules. The reality sends pangs to your heart because it hits harder than ever that you’ve never had a friend group with who you could drink with. Not even a casual drink. Not even a girls’ night out. Not even a pole dance at a strip club.

“Okay! Let’s play the hongsam game,” Seungkwan shouts out and immediately everyone cheers in agreement. You must be looking confused as hell, because Jihoon quietly leans in to explain the rules simply. Seungkwan and Jihoon show you a small demo, and you nod. You may not have understood fully but you don’t want to hold up others in the game. And so the game goes on for nineteen rounds, and you lose ten of them. You somehow miss the timing every time, or maybe you just don’t know their names well enough. Even Joshua, who messed up the first three times, seems to have caught on, but you’re just stuck. Although they make you feel better about it, laughing with you instead of at you, and reassuring you that it’s okay to make mistakes, you feel embarrassed. It’s not a tough game, just requires hand-eye-brain coordination that you’re sure you’re not lacking in, but perhaps some part of you wants to do better because it’s Wonwoo’s friends you’re playing with, and performing poorly here would mean… well, you don’t know what it would mean, but it doesn’t sit right with you. So you try to be more competitive, and although you keep losing, as the shots go in, it feels less stressful and more fun. You become more familiar with the games, and the S.coups game you’re actually good at, although you have no idea why it’s called the S.coups game and Seungcheol personally makes it a point to threaten anyone who’s about to tell you why it’s called the S.coups game.

And so, as the night goes by, you become more comfortable. Even if it is still a little awkward, it’s not altogether bad. Mingyu and Seungcheol are being nice to you, although a bit wary. The others have positively welcomed you with open arms. And Wonwoo, well, he’s being a little odd. He’s having a hell lot of fun, being much louder than you’ve ever seen him. He seems more reserved than his friends, but then, his friends are too hyper. And while he doesn’t make direct efforts to talk to you, he’s becoming more touchy by the minute. The first few shots in, he was just putting an arm around your shoulders. Next few shots in, his hands are properly rubbing all over your bare arms as he makes you open the coat when you say your body’s getting warm with all the soju. When you feel the buzz of alcohol getting more serious by the second, his right hand, the same one which had held your hand earlier that day, places itself on your thigh and refuses to move. It’s splayed all over your thigh, nearly covering from end to end, and there’s not much skin showing anyway, but with his hand, it feels like you should’ve worn a shorter skirt.

Wonwoo’s favourite game is the mafia one. The game app somehow generates him to be mafia three out of four times, and he has way too much fun killing the innocent citizens who seem to be completely deceived by him. Wonwoo’s too good at lying, you realise, when you’re taken aback each time on finding out he’s the mafia although you’re sitting right next to him. The fifth round, you both are mafias, and after the penultimate round of guessing, when you two are the only mafias left alive and you lock eyes to decide who to kill, you giggle at the way he’s staring you down.

“I say, Soyeon. She’s the closest to guessing me out.” You say seriously, but his eyes aren’t even on your eyes. They’re fixed lower, at your lips, but you panic and shift away from him. Now his eyes look up at yours, confused, but you’re guessing he’s just drunk. He would never behave like this if he were sober.

“I say let’s get out of here. While their eyes are still closed.” He smirks, whispering hotly in front of your face, and you feel red all over.

“Wonwoo! They’re your friends.” “So what? They love you already. They wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving, if that’s what you’re thinking.” “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re having so much fun, why would you want to leave?” “Because I know I could have more fun with you with my face under that skirt of yours.” You’re blushing again. “You don’t want to know the number of times I’ve left fun gatherings like this to fuck you in my car, sweetheart. This time, at least, they’ll understand better.” You blush even harder, with the way he’s speaking. It’s making your heart beat too loudly. You know it’s because you both are drunk, but you’ve never been able to resist it when he talks dirty to you. And now his hand starts squeezing your thigh, so you’re left wondering what it would feel like if his face was under your sk-

“Oh for fucks sake! I know it’s Wonwoo and Y/N with all this whispering, I’m sitting next to y’all, guys!” Aeri whines from next to you, and the moment is broken. Everyone opens their eyes and Wonwoo’s hand stop squeezing, although it’s still on your thigh. “If you’re going to undress each other, just go home!” Chan says, and you laugh. “I’m not leaving the party even if Wonwoo does, just so you know. I’m having way too much fun.” Aeri and Hayi hug you from one end, pulling you away from Wonwoo. “Yes,” says Hayi, “we’re not letting you go either. Boring mafia men can leave if they like.” So they pull you away from Wonwoo and you end up sitting somewhere far away from him, between Joshua and Minghao, and it’s nice to be around people who aren’t game aces either and you can have a lot more fun because they’re not as serious as Wonwoo.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzes in your pocket, so you take it out. There’s a text from Wonwoo.

I wasn’t kidding, Y/N. I really want to get out of here with you.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve bid the last round of goodbyes, hugging Jeonghan and exchanging numbers with most of them, while they whine about why Wonwoo gatekept you for so long. Even Seungcheol and Mingyu joke around you, showing that they’ve become more comfortable around you. Perhaps growing up has taken away some of their jerk attitude from them.

Wonwoo’s already leaning against his car when you walk out of the house. You know he’s drunk with the way his eyes check you out without any filter, and you’re also drunk and out of your inhibitions. You try not to get into your head as he opens the door for you, and you get inside the warm car. Wonwoo joins you in the backseat, and the chauffeur drives you out slowly.

But somehow, being in the car now, away from the dopamine of the party, and the general excitement from having a surprisingly fun evening with strangers, the overthinking does kick in. Wonwoo doesn’t say a word, but his hand has returned on your thigh, and you let it be there. But you can’t help but think, is he finding you attractive only because he’s under the influence?

So you ask him that, when you both get out of the car and he opens the door to the apartment. Drunk, dishevelled Wonwoo looks glorious in the night light, his dark hair falling over his eyes, which are hooded in desire as plain as day. “Are you fucking serious, woman?” That’s all he says, before he pushes you against the back of the same entry door, and puts his hand under your skirt. He finds you panties as an obstruction so he pushes them aside before kissing you and entering one finger inside your cunt simultaneously. You immediately melt under his touch, not just because it’s been months since Wonwoo’s touched you, but also because you’re feeling so relieved he’s still attracted to you. At least the farce hasn’t repelled him away this far.

So you don’t speak any words. You both stay silent except the sounds he forces out of you. You come embarrassingly fast with just two fingers up your vagina, and his mouth creating hickeys all over your neck. “Fuck, Wonwoo, I-” “Shit you’re still coming- your whore pussy’s thanking Sir for taking care of her after so long?” You moan his name harder, your entire body writhing under his touch as he drags out your climax under his touch. “Yes, Sir.” “And what to good girls say in gratitude?” You can barely form the words but you say it, “Thank- thank you, Sir!”

“Where do you wanna take it, hmm? To my bedroom which you’ve taken over? Or my bedroom where you’ve exiled me to?” He picks you up and shrugs off your coat, and you wrap your legs around him, stretching the skirt. “It doesn’t matter.”

So he takes you to the bedroom where he’s sleeping these days. He flunks you on the bed, and you tumble to fall on your face. The sheets smell like him, and you breathe in his scent. You don’t want to sleep anywhere else after this- only next to him, if this is what his bed smells like.

He leans in from behind you, and unhooks your top and skirt, leaving you in your underwear. Your panties are ruined, so he makes quick work of removing them. But he keeps the bra on, and gently slides in under you until your pussy is on his face as he prepares to eat you out from behind. His hands are splayed over your ass, and as soon as his tongue makes contact with your already abused vagina, you scream out his name. But he doesn’t stop- he continues, his tongue harshly fucking your cunt. When he’s done making you orgasm again like that, and you’re done screaming his name into his pillow, he finally moves away from you. You fall limp on the bed, as you hear him take off his clothes. Eventually he cages you from behind, and slowly fills you up from behind, one hand on your neck and the other rubbing your nipple over your bra.

So he fucks you like that, his cold chain makes sparks every time it brushes against your spine. “Sir, please! Faster, please-” Wonwoo doesn’t reply to any of your begging, but he responds physically to everything you say, by doing the exact opposite and dragging out your misery. His hands don’t leave your nipples as he leisurely fucks you. “Fuck, Y/N, not even four months, and you’re tight like a virgin again.” Your hands slip and weakly try to clutch at the bedsheets, but you feel useless, like a toy, and he feels every inch of skin which he’s missed out on all this time. You don’t know what he’s looking like now, but his hand presses your head down on the pillow softly, and his grunts and moans are soft enough to be enveloped by your own louder moans and pants.

“Please, I’m begging you, please- pl- faster- Sir!” And the second he lifts his body away from yours, thrusting into you faster, you spasm and orgasm right there, and it triggers his orgasm too. The warmth of his cum flowing inside you stays there as he gently falls down on your body, panting. When he begins to pull out, you whine, unable to say anything but he gets the message. He lies down next to you softly, without pulling out for a few minutes. When your body finally comes down from the high, you go limp around his body, and Wonwoo gently pulls out.

“I’ll clean you up.” “I’m sleepy…” “Yeah, then sleep.” And then you pass out.

When you wake up the next morning, Wonwoo is, unsurprisingly, not next to you, although his side of the bed is not cold. It feels like an upgrade, and you take what you can get. For the first time since you’ve gotten married, you’ve slept together and the thought of it makes you pleased for some reason.

“Morning,” he walks in, before you can properly wake up. He’s wearing a peach-coloured hoodie with sweatpants, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Is that for me?” “No, I didn’t know if you were up.” “Okay, I’ll go and get my own.”

So you do. You brush your teeth and make your coffee and return to the bedroom, and Wonwoo’s still sitting there, his back leaning against the headboard. For a second, you feel like you’re stepping into someone else’s married life, but then you realise it’s yours. It makes you giddy. You don’t understand why- it’s not like you’ve ever craved for Wonwoo, or anyone, in this way. But somehow, you’ve warmed up well to the idea of having him as your … partner. There’s nobody who could be an equal match to you, to be honest. Either they’d be seriously less intelligent and you would be able to hold no conversation with them, or they’d be arrogant as fuck if they were smarter than you, and they’d make it a point to make you feel lesser, always. So Wonwoo is the perfect match for you.

Although, Wonwoo could surely find someone better. Jeonghan’s words float in your brain once again, and you fight the urge to contradict him. Mrs Jeon could definitely be someone else- someone who’s less distant from Wonwoo, someone he could love truly deeper than just skin-level attraction, someone who would want to be with him for real feelings and not just a facade.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about, Wonwoo.”

“Yeah, me too.” You both sit against the headboard, bodies far apart, as if repelled again by magnetic force, no matter how close you were last night.

“Okay, you go first then.”

So he says, “Last night was… a mistake. I know it sounds cliche, but it’s true. I don’t… want to do this with you.”

Oh fuck. You did not see that coming. Sure, the relationship could have been a mistake. Getting married without him getting anything out of it could have been a mistake. Continuing this marriage after your dad’s treatment was successful could have been a mistake. But last night? Last night had felt so right to you. There was no one who knew your body like Wonwoo did, and you knew it went the other way round too. Then how could he say that?

He continues, “I don’t want to be fuckbuddies with you like this, Y/N. We got married for a goal, and now that goal’s been fulfilled and…”

“And you want a divorce. I get it.”

He looks at you with confusion, his eyes wide and his eyebrows furrowed. “No, that’s not what I said.”

“That’s what you meant. I’m an adult, Wonwoo, don’t teach me nuances.” You get off the bed and walk away.

“Y/N, you’ve got to hear me out when I’m saying something.”

“Wonwoo, I already know what you’re trying to say.”

“Fuck you, Y/N. This is why it’s not possible to have a proper conversation with you.”

“You’ll get what you want, Wonwoo. Don’t worry. Thanks for telling me, I needed to know.”

It feels good to get back to work after so long. The familiar sound of people typing away on their laptops and the busy movement of people everywhere, it brings peace to your heart. There are people hovering around you, hoping to speak to you, but Jisung somehow brings you to your office without you having to say anything more than good morning and happy new year to anyone.

It’s only when you enter the office and you see the pending paperwork that you realise just how much you’ve missed. There’s a deal with Lee Corp. that’s sitting on your desk, and Jisung presents it to you with a proud smile. “We got it done, Ma’am. Every detail you wanted, to the t.” You don’t know how to respond, because it’s unbelievable. “But how?” This is your dream- signing a contract with Lee Corp., the leading organisation for facilitating stools for robotic surgery in Korea. Although your technology has always been more modern, they’ve retained their large market share because of simply how long they’ve sustained in the business- after all, when it comes to health, trust comes before modernity for customers.

“Jeon Wonwoo-ssi set up the deal for us. The Deputy CEO and myself attended the meeting, I can share the minutes with-”

“Wait, stop. Wonwoo, you said?”

“Yes Ma’am, I… did he not tell you? He told me he’d tell you.” Jisung looks genuinely confused, so you know it’s futile to investigate him further.

“Well, as you can see, it’s news to me.”

“There is a meeting today, at noon, Ma’am, I need to brief you about the details before you-”

“I’ll get the details directly from Wonwoo, thanks Jisung. Ask my chauffeur to get my car ready please. I’ll be back before the meeting.”

Wonwoo’s office building is bustling with the same energy as your own, and you face no trouble finding his office. So you walk right in.

“What’s this I’m hearing?” He’s standing next to a shorter man showing him something on a tablet, but he immediately leaves when he sees you, bowing quickly. “I was busy, Y/N, you can’t just walk in like that as if you own the place.” He walks up to you, and gently closes the door, before leaning against it and asking you, in that fucking relaxed expression he always has, “What’s the matter?”

“You fixed a deal with Lee Corp. for my company?”

“What about it?”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“I thought it was best not to disturb you when you were busy with your father.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Wonwoo, this is literally the most important event that can turn my career around forever, and you choose not to tell me-”

“So you’d rather I invade your privacy for this? I’d arranged it so that it would be closed only after your return anyway, so it’s not like-”

“It’s exactly like you were making deals behind my back! God knows what subscript you’ve mentioned in the clauses with the Lees- yeah, step one: get into a trusting contract with Y/N, step two: slowly overtake all her market power, step three: make the company so weak that Jeon Estates can easily take over.”

You’ve taken a step closer with every word, and now you’re standing at a hair’s distance from Wonwoo, who’s just staring at you. “For god’s sake, Jeon Wonwoo, say something!”

And then, he fucking laughs. It’s a bitter laugh, one with no mirth, and it makes goosebumps rise on your flesh.

“You’re mad, Y/N. You’re paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch, and I can’t even be mad at you because I knew this is how you’ve been all along and yet, I can’t fucking stop myself from falling in love with you every damn day!”

It’s your turn to go speechless. The documents in your hands fall limply to the floor, as your jaw opens and you stay rooted in one spot, stunned beyond belief. “You… what?”

“You were so fucking right every time you called me a dumbass, Y/N. Because I am one.” He laughs again, taking off his glasses with one hand, and rubbing his eyes with another. Then he stops laughing and when he wears his glasses again, his face looks twenty years older.

“Wonwoo… I’m not understanding.”

“You will never understand. Because you don’t have a fucking heart. One would think I have a masochism kink- the way you kick me out every day and I come back to you like a dog. Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want to take over your company? I’ve told you before- I have enough ways and means to bring you down already had I really wanted to. For fucks’ sake, it’d take a minute for me to destroy your reputation by spreading a rumour about how you wanted to bang me just because you thought it was a great way to get your dad to get into treatment.”

“You still could-”

“I’ve never taken advantage of you- never. I’ve respected you, with as much as I could. When you’ve been petty, when you’ve been oversmart, when you’ve been angry. And you think I’m really interested in destroying you? No, Y/N, if there’s anything I feel towards you and your professional career, it’s admiration. And respect.”

“Don’t lie to my face, Jeon.”

He laughs again, and kneels down so that he’s looking away from you, down at the floor, his body no longer held up in his usual manly stature.

“I’m so tired of running around and playing these games with you, Y/N. I’ve admired you since you’d been promoted two classes at once in ninth grade.”

“That is a lie. You’d gone right after that class to bitch about me, very loudly, to your friends, about how I’d been promoted only because my dad’s business was flourishing.”

“It was a front, because all of my friends, and mind you, I don’t mean Mingyu and Seungcheol, had become pissed at you for it. I had to… I don’t know… be popular? I couldn’t be any more of a loser than I already was. I’d lost a year as it is for breaking my leg and not being able to attend classes, and then… owning up that your intelligence and intellect amazed me and got me on my fucking knees would mean I’d no longer be the cool boy in class who everybody wanted to be with.”

You kneel down next to him, imploring him to look into your eyes. But he steadfastly avoids eye contact- and you feel the floor slip away from your feet. Things you’d believed for years… hearing them become untrue… hearing them being simple misunderstandings… it was too frightening and too overwhelming to be believable.

“But there’s not been a moment these last dozen years when I’ve not had my heart beat fast whenever I think about you… see you. I’d accepted your harsh words and your cold attitude as the norm because… I knew it was because I’d not behaved very nicely with you either, and I was to be blamed for it after all. But I took what I could get. A beggar cannot be a chooser, you know?”

And he finally looks at you.

And finally you can read Jeon Wonwoo. Every expression is as clear as day on his face. His eyes clouded with betrayal and pain, his lips twitching, seconds away from breaking down, his hands pale and trembling. You want to walk away, be a coward again, run away and escape to your bubble of yourself and only yourself. But you also want to take his hand, and feel the truth he’s speaking coursing through his veins buzz out into your own skin.

So you do that.

For once in twenty six years, you do the brave thing.

You sit down completely on the floor, and you lean forward to face him, and touch the tips of his fingers. You’re surrounded by the flurry of papers you’d brought to him, but in this moment, when the current of his touch matches the voltage running in your mind, you forget what they were. He looks away, and says, “Everything about you was so electrifying. You were the first woman who had never pedestalized me for my money and my position in society. The first woman who’d made me feel like just another human being. The first woman who I’d been unable to seduce with just a casual look. The first woman who threw a challenge at me with not just her attitude but also her smartness. And boy, you know how competitive I can be.”

“I was okay with being fuckbuddies too, you know. This way, I didn’t have to pine over you from a corner of the room at social gatherings and wonder how you smelt. I didn’t have to look at you from the other side of the cafeteria at school and imagine how it would feel to kiss the cream off the corner of your lips. And I fucking loved it. I loved being able to hold you close, make you mine. I- well… the first night you’d hooked up with me? If you’d not come back to me yourself, I would have begged you and confessed that very night. I would have cried at your feet to let me be your lover.”

There’s a single tear falling off his cheek and onto the point where your fingers touch. He doesn’t look at you. The sky outside darkens with the impending rain, making the room infinitely darker than it was earlier.

“And then… when you’d asked me to stop… the world had broken down on me. I’d given up on making you want to like me- but,” and he laughs again, that broken, mirthless laugh, “a man can dream, can he not?”

“Wonwoo, I’m sorry.” you whisper. You know it’s pointless, but you still want to say it.

“For what Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve just shown me my place.”

“For hurting you. I didn’t know…”

“No you… you didn’t even know you were hurting me. You were just being you.”

“And it’s sick that I hurt you so much when I was just being myself.”

There’s a long minute of silence, as he looks up at you. Lightning cracks on the horizon outside, your body shivering with the sudden sound of thunder, and his hands withdraw from your own.

“Y/N, I don’t want to interfere in your life any longer. I’ve lived happily this last year, being so close to you, even when I knew it wasn’t in the way I wanted. But last night…”

“Wonwoo. I-”

“It was a mistake because I can’t do this so casually anymore, Y/N. I don’t want to wake up next to you just like that, Y/N. I don’t want to be married to you on paper, Y/N. I don’t want to pretend in front of my friends and not make you mine in public. Seungcheol and Mingyu accepted you fully… because they knew just how smitten I’ve been with you forever.” The edge of his lips tilt upward in a lopsided, winsome smile, as he continues, “That day in the amusement park? You’d been so mad at me for no fault of mine at all, but you’d been so cute when you’d lolled all over my shoulder and clutched onto my clothes for your dear life. That time you’d made your first speech as your father’s heir to the company, I swear I could’ve run to you and kissed you right there, you’d been so hot up on stage, in the spotlight, right where you belong.”

He starts standing up, looking away from you. He begins picking up the first paper next to him.

“Oh, you bought the divorce papers.”

You spring up to attention at once, and snatch it away from him. “Wonwoo, I-”

“No, thanks for bringing them. Thank you for putting me out of my misery of this awful mirage called hope.”

“No, please, I-”

“I see you’ve already signed-”

“Wonwoo! Just please listen to me?”

He finally pauses in his tracks and looks at you. “You’ve said enough, Y/N-ah. You’ll get the divorce you so want. And if you like, I’ll ask Jihoon to put in a word to take away the deal as well. If you feel so threatened-”

“Wonwoo, hold up. Jihoon?”

“Yeah? You didn’t know? His cousin is the CEO of Lee Corp. currently.”

He picks up a pen to sign, and you literally lunge yourself on his body. It’s cinematic, a little unreal, but you do it out of desperation. It results in you being draped all over his body, as he falls back on his desk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut up. Let me talk,” and you clamp a hand on his mouth before he can say another word. You take a deep breath, as his eyes widen for a second, but then he stabilises himself on his desk and waits for you to continue.

“I’ll admit it, I’ve been an awful person. I’ve been mean, selfish, and paranoid- and yes, while I may have been justified to some extent, I … should’ve trusted you. It’s absurd though- had I not trusted you at all, how could I ever submit to you even in sex? How could I trust you with my body at my weakest, most out-of-control moments? Perhaps, deep down, I knew that, no matter how much we sparred with our words and our eyes, we… you would never harm me. And I think you know I wouldn’t have harmed you either, really. Because you’ve been nothing if not my twin spirit. You’ve been the only person competitive enough to challenge me. You’ve been the only man who hasn’t given me up even when I threw tantrums. And I want to stop talking in the past tense. Even in the future, I see… I see you as the only man who’d ever really understand me. If I tell you I need a week to just cut off from the world and focus on my work, you’d understand me. If I tell you, Wonwoo, I… well fuck it, I didn’t even need to tell you that I don’t like being lonely every New Years’ Eve, did I? You agreed to be my ally when our families turned against us. You agreed to be my husband when I hadn’t even asked you about it. You’ve… you’ve shown me that a world beyond me exists, you’ve shown me that I’m not the only person in this world I can care about, and you’ve shown me that you don’t need to be loud and obvious when you want to do things for others. And I haven’t even shown gratitude for it. So you’re right when you call me a paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch.” He shakes his head, but you only laugh a little. “No you’re right. You are. Wonwoo, I… these last few weeks. When I was away, with my dad? I didn’t think it was love but… I did think it was longing. I didn’t even know when I’d gotten used to not living alone at home. I didn’t even know when I’d developed the habit of waiting till 10 pm to see you enter the house after working out, sweaty and your muscles bulging. I’d told you I had become dependent on you as a way to relieve my stress? Well, turns out now I’ve become dependent on you for attention, for affection, for a way to cure my loneliness. I am a paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch because I’ve been so lonely for years. Apart from my parents and my sister, I… I’ve never had anyone else. And I thought it was a strength of mine … until I grew up and realised just how lonely I had become. And then… I found you, I guess? Even when we just had sex, it was better than spending all those nights alone, drinking on my own. Even when you’d tie me up to your bedpost for hours on that stupid yellow vibrator of yours, it was more intimate than anything else, and simply because… you even read my face and understood when I was reaching my boundaries. And I’m having all these epiphanies right now, and I feel like a fool for priding myself on my smartness, because truly, what have I gained if I’ve lost you?”

And then, he wrings his hands free and leans over you, and kisses you. Kisses you with his mouth open, his eyes on yours as he gauges your expressions turn from surprise, to wonder, to thrill. When he’s finally kissed you out of breath, you pull away from him to breathe in and feel alive again, only to find that the roles have switched and he’s got you pinned against his desk now.

“Baby, if only… if only I’d known, that your pretty mind was having so many epiphanies, I’d have not left you on the bed alone in the morning. Tell me you don’t really want the divorce, tell me what you said right now was not a joke?”

“It’s not… I don’t want a divorce, please Wonwoo. I had only got them prepared because I thought you’d want them- but…”

“Well, I deserve to be treated like a shithead for not making you feel just how badly I want to hold on to this marriage. Because even if it is fake…”

“Wonwoo, shh… it’s not fake if I love you, right?” You say, experimentally, hoping you’re doing the right thing now by being brave, and when he doesn’t reply for a second, your brain goes on a spiral again, but then he must know it because he kisses you again. “Say that again, princess.” So you do. He asks you three more times, and each time, he punctuates his sentences with kisses on your face, and you blush harder each time you admit that yes, you have fallen in love with Jeon Wonwoo. The last person you’d expect to fall for… but it’s true, and it’s real, and it’s warm and novel with how it’s coursing through your veins.

“I love you too, Y/N, if you’ll really have me.” So you kiss him back, your tongues lazily sliding against each other, the sensation making you numb. It feels good to kiss Wonwoo, but it feels even better to kiss your lover Wonwoo, you realise, and you go back for a million more kisses, before the grandfather’s clock in his room rings out and reminds you that it is noon.

“Wonwoo… Fuck! I’d forgotten,” you whisper as he kisses you down your neck, lavishing every inch of your skin. “The meeting with the Lees!” “Oh.” He looks up at you. “I’ll call Jihoon and ask him to reschedule. Can’t let work get in the way of pleasure, right now, Mrs. Jeon. Not when I can finally make love to you like you’re mine.” You giggle at his words, unimaginably corny. But you can’t deny how good it makes you feel. “Wait, who said I’m yours?” “Fuck, don’t mess with me, woman. You- you just said!” “I am, relax! It’s a joke, Mr. Jeon. I see your cheesiness has changed now… but your sense of humour is just as poor as before.” He snarls against your lips, although it’s sexy in a way. “I’ll not let you go for comments like that, you know?”

So he doesn’t. He calls Jihoon and reschedules the meeting, and then he drives you home, in his car. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, his hand wrapped in yours, as he pauses at every red light to kiss you. “I still can't believe it.” “You’ve got me here, Jeon. I’m not going away.” You can see the way his hands tremble, but you hold on tight. You’re telling him as much as you’re telling yourself, you’re never going away.

It’s still raining outside, but he covers your head with his blazer as he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs to his apartment, doesn’t even lower you in the elevator. Thankfully there’s only an ahjumma inside the elevator, who doesn’t seem to mind, only giggles when you apologise. “It’s okay. I know how lovesick men can be,” she says, before she gets down at her designated floor.

And then he doesn’t stop kissing you. He doesn’t leave your mouth even when the elevator door opens and you both walk out into your apartment. He doesn’t leave your mouth when you shrug off your heels and he takes off his own shoes. He doesn’t leave your mouth when he directly takes you all the way to the master bedroom, and just plops you down on the bed, you nearly springing up with the impact.

“Wonwoo?” You ask when he turns away and walks into the closet, only to return with a box that’s too familiar to you. It has all your toys in it. “Do you know, Mrs. Jeon, just how cruel you’ve been by forcing me to see these every time I open the drawer to take out my underwear? He opens it slowly, showing you the three dildos inside, and the bullet vibrator Wonwoo himself had bought for you. “Every time I see them, it feels like you’re cheating on me, because fuck, how can anything give you pleasure when I literally exist?” His words are cheesy again, but in that dirty way which is so on brand for him. You’re leaking under the suit pants already, you know that.

“Wonwoo… I… you know I don’t use them when you’re around.”

“And you shouldn’t have to use them ever. Not when I’m here to fuck you good like you deserve, like the cumslut you are, hmm?” He presses a finger under your chin, taking in a good look at you from above, before he orders, “Strip.”

So you do. He takes his sweet time watching you strip, while taking out one dildo from your box and his favourite ties. When you’re down to your underwear, he pauses you and extends a hand waiting for something. You know what’s coming, so you just extend your hands to him and let him tie you up. He smirks at your gesture, so he ties you up the poles of the bed. He also uses another tie to wrap around your eyes, and then he gently peels off your panties. “God, fuck. You smell heavenly.” Did he just sniff your underwear? “Wonwoo! Don’t!” There’s a sharp spank on your pussy, exposed to him in its wet glory, and you crumble instantly. “Little baby girls don’t tell Sir what to do and what not to do, hmm? They just take it as they’re given.” So he spanks you again, and it sends shivers through your body. Just the thought of fucking in the broad daylight seems like a sin, but then… isn’t this what married couples do?

You realise that Wonwoo’s seated himself next to you, and he’s gently taken your head into his lap. His hand is already playing with your clit, and you feel something cold and liquidy being rubbed over your pussy flesh. Lube? He’s still fully dressed, and you can feel the cold metal of his watch graze against your sensitive thigh, making you hiss in pleasure.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been taught a lesson, darling. Seems like getting married has made you feel like you’re beyond Sir’s control. But that’s not how it goes, is it?” You whisper out, “No… No Sir.” “Good girl. If you want to be treated like you’re married, then you’ve gotta earn it, yes? Now. Can you take one finger?” He inserts his finger gently, which is coated in the cold substance you’re assuming is lube. It isn’t really necessary, given how wet you are already, but it feels hotter when the lube is so cold inside you.

You nod. “Words.” “Yes, I can.” So he slowly pumps it in, before saying, “Can you take two fingers?” You whimper as he stretches you by putting in two fingers. “Yes Sir.” “That’s a good girl.” The praise is making your head spin.

“And can you take-” he puts in another damn finger, “three fingers?” Now it’s a real burn. It’s in till his knuckles all too quickly but you can’t say no because you want to please. “Quick, princess. Don’t keep me waiting. Yes or n-” “Yes! I can. I will. I’m a good girl, Sir?” He pumps all three fingers deep until it hits your spot, and you scream out his name. “Such a good girl. Now fuck yourself on those fingers thinking that’s Sir’s cock.”

You push up your hips, and he thrusts in, meeting your halfway. And then he sets the pace, as he fucks into you relentlessly, his other hand gently wrapping around your jaw and you take out your tongue, almost drooling, until he puts a finger inside your mouth too. You just know he’s smirking right now, with you being desperate for something in your mouth too, but you can’t care less.

Your orgasm hits you as soon as he orders gently, “Cum for me, pretty baby.” But when you come down from your high, he doesn’t take his fingers out. He gently pumps in your cum into your system again, and you writhe with sensitivity. But he uses his other hand to stop you, as he takes it out of your mouth. “Now, can you take a dildo along with these fingers?” You gasp, because it’s not imaginable. “No, I… it’s too much, Sir.” “Is it? I don’t think it’s bigger than your husband’s dick, is it?” And fuck, you can’t stop yourself from clenching at that. It’s crazy how hot he makes it sound, but it feels amazing when he calls himself your husband. And he must feel your cunt clenching around his fingers as well, because he whispers near your ear, “Oh Mrs Jeon likes that, huh? Too bad she can’t take her husband’s cock then, because it’s too much-” “No I can take it! I can- I can fit in my husband’s cock.” You can hear the way Wonwoo grunts, as he plunges his fingers deeper into your cunt. “But first, I’ve got to train you, yes? You’ve become too unruly. You want to be the perfect wife, don’t you?” “Fuck!” you can’t form words as you clench around his fingers hopelessly, overstimulation forgotten, and buck up your hips to help him reach your spot. He just laughs and begins fucking you again, all three of his thick fingers snugly fit inside you till the knuckles.

“Can you feel my wedding ring inside, baby?” He whispers again, and you cry out his name continuously as he drives you to a new high, so familiar, and yet so new. He’s your husband now, fuck. It’s a revelation that hits harder in the middle of sex, and you come instantly, coating his fingers with your essence.

“Oh, my cockslut’s eager to please her husband, is she? So eager to be the perfect wife, is she?”

“Yes, yes! Please- pl- I just want-”

“Want?”

“Please fuck me Wonwoo!”

He immediately removes his fingers from your pussy and you scream out as you feel empty. “Aaah! Please!”

“I’m not making any girl who’s forgotten rules in the bedroom, feel good.” He takes off the tie that was wrapped around your eyes, and you notice that he’s not leaning down at you, his glasses still on, but his eyes dark with hunger. God, he’s hot.

“I’m sorry Sir.”

There’s a sharp spank to your clit, and you jump. It’s too much, but in the best way possible.

“I’ll ask you again. Can you take three fingers and one of those dildos you love so much that you torture your husband with its sight every day?” He doesn’t break eye contact, and you whimper in front of him, pathetic and desperate.

“Yes, Sir. I can.”

“Open your mouth.”

Wordlessly, you do, and he spits into your mouth. Then he puts in the dildo. As you see the purple dildo, which is considerably slimmer than Wonwoo’s dick, but about the same length, enter your pussy, you notice how much Wonwoo’s gaze has hardened. Is he really jealous of that damn toy? It’s funny, so you buck your hips up to meet the way he’s slowly fucking you with the plastic dildo, and his eyes become more dangerous.

“Are you that desperate for it, darling?”

“I want to feel full, Sir.”

And then something in Wonwoo snaps. He wraps three fingers around the head of the dildo and along with the fingers, he plunges the dildo into you, stretching you out much more than before. The burn eases out after a second, but he fucks you at an incredibly slow pace, which only makes you eager for more. “Faster, please!” “You want me to fuck you with this plastic toy how I fuck you with my cock?” “Yes! I d- I do! I just want to feel full!” Then his other hand finds its way to your tits and twists a nipple hard enough to make it painful. “You’re such a whore, Y/N. Just a pretty whore. You’d take any cock just to keep your holes filled?” “No! I … I only like it when Sir does it for me.” “Liar. Just now you’re so happy to take this dildo, huh?” You can’t even think straight with the pace he’s torturing you at, but you do reply, “That’s- aah! Only- only because Sir’s fucking me with it. Because I can feel your wedding ring inside me, Sir!”

“Fuck!” There’s another sharp pinch at your nipple before Wonwoo begins fucking you faster, and it only takes you a minute before he’s bringing you to yet another high which leaves you dizzy.

“God, you’re left speechless. Does Mr Jeon fuck you that good?” He leans it to kiss you, his wet fingers now wrapped around your breasts. You can feel the way your cum still sticks on his fingers, but it feels too good to be gross. You kiss him back, arching your back off the bed, until he pulls away.

He stands up from the bed, and languidly takes off his clothes. “So pretty like this, princess. Legs all spread out for who?”

“You, Wonwoo. My husband.”

He stops his movements and stares at you for a second. It seems like calling him husband has the same effect on him as the effect on you when he calls you wife. “Yes, you’re right. Your husband.” He sits next to you to kiss you again and this time, you try to sit upright, in spite of your hands still being tied. When he breaks off, he says, “So let me train you to be my wife, hmm? I want to fuck you so good that your pussy shapes itself around me. That you won’t even need prep when I want to fuck you because it’ll be so used to me.” Oh, no wonder for that size training. “Why? Does your cock get bigger now that you’re my husband?” He smirks, eyes cruel because you’re talking back to him. “No, because I need to fit in perfectly to ensure none of my seed leaves you when I’m breeding you.” And then he attacks your neck, and you’re moaning even before his lips hit skin because his words flip some switches in you that you’ve never even known. Sure, Wonwoo’s always fucked you raw because you’ve been on pills for years, but the idea of him breeding a child into you? Fuck. You’d never even thought about having a child, but this idea turns you on remarkably insanely.

Soon his shirt is off and he unties your hands. “Take off my pants for me, baby.” And you do. You tease him a bit, but that’s only fair with how hard he’s sucking your breasts, as if he’s born to do this. Before taking off his boxers, you notice the precum that’s leaking out so much that it’s made the fabric quite wet. So you lick his dick clean while it’s still inside his boxers, and you’ve got him hissing and grunting like never before. “Fuck, Y/N, don’t,” he pulls your head away. “Why?” He must notice the way his precum is still sticking on your lips, because he groans again. “I want to cum inside you. Breed you full, baby.” That puts a shy smile on your face as he takes off his underwear, and you finally see his cock upright, leaking and bright red. And perhaps you’re delusional after all those orgasms, but it does seem bigger than before.

“Please, Mr Jeon, take me.” And he responds to your begging. He kisses you softly, as he lines himself up with you, his left hand still pulling your hands up above your head, and your right hand clutching your hips in an iron grip that will leave marks. And then he just enters, without warning, till the hilt, and you both moan out at the sensation. You don’t know why it feels different, but with how he’s kissing you, almost softly and gently, like he’s a gentleman, while fucking you ruthlessly like he’s in rut, you’re in heaven for sure.

It’s also the first time Wonwoo is so audible during sex. He’s panting and moaning, although much softer than you, but his sounds spur you on even harder. He can’t stop whispering your name and other pet names in your ears, while you keep moaning his name loud even to burst his eardrums. He doesn’t care. He responds to every word you utter, every little request you beg, and he fucks you fast and hard, until he can’t hold on any further and his entire body is trembling with the incoming orgasm. “Mrs Jeon, can you cum with me?” “Yes, please, Sir.” And so you do, releasing into each other while still making out with each other. It feels like you’ve entered a different dimension of pleasure, and Wonwoo is here with you. It’s a safe feeling beyond description, and you pass out right there.

When you do wake up, you find Wonwoo sitting next to you with a cloth in his hands, wiping gently at your legs.

“How long have I been out?”

“About ten minutes?”

He doesn’t answer smoothly. You can see the way his hands move softly, almost worshipping.

“I love you, Wonwoo.”

Then he looks up at you, and you see the way his eyes are quivering.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “No, tell me.” “Nothing just-” You sit up, and take his hands in your own. Then you nod at him, gently urging him on.

“Was it too much?”

“Huh?”

“Did I push you too much?”

“No. I would’ve used my safeword if you did.”

“But what if you forgot the safeword in the middle of it all- what if you got too pushed by me-”

“I wasn’t, and that’s what matters. I remember it all the time, Wonwoo, you… the traffic lights aren’t really easy to forget. I would tap out somehow if I felt like too much. But it wasn’t, so where’s this coming from?”

“Nothing… I… I hope you’re not just taking it from me because I’m your husband now.”

And at that, you laugh. “Hell, nah, Wonwoo. You know I wouldn’t take it from you even if you were god. You’ve really got me all wrong, then.”

He smiles weakly, and you know it’s still on his mind. So you move over to sit gently on his lap. “Wonwoo, when I said earlier that you know my limits. I wasn’t lying, you know. You do. You don’t push me too much.”

“But if I ever do-”

“If you ever do, you should know that I’ll tap out at once and never forgive you. You always make me feel safe, Wonwoo.” And you hug him, and the fact that you’re both naked makes your hug even warmer and softer as you feel Wonwoo’s hands wrap around your back as well.

“I love you too, Y/N. I promise I’ll always keep you safe.” And then he kisses your forehead, and you snuggle your face right into the crook of his neck. He smells… like Wonwoo, and it feels like home.

“Now, how about some lunch, baby?”

“You’re hungry when I had to do all the work?” You gasp while still tucked into his neck, and he giggles with the way your breath tickles his neck.

“So what does my pretty wife want?”

“She just wants to cuddle you and sleep.”

“And my wife’s wishes are my commands.”

So he lays down, with you still on top of him like a koala, and pulls the blankets over you both, wrapping you into one tiny ball. You look at him with a fond smile, and you see your expression mirrored in his. “I love you so much, Y/N-ah.”

“And I love you, Wonwoo. I could love nobody else apart from you.”

241 notes · View notes

fraugwinska · 2 days

Note

Hey! Me again!

Could I get an Alastor x Female reader where she tells him she's pregnant, he's so stunned he thinks it a joke until she shows him the positive on the test and it shocks him to the core but after the initial shock he's overjoyed.

My dear jezebel <3 Thank you for being so patient! I took a few liberties from the ask, I really hope you don't mind! After a lot of rewrites and edits - I'm finally happy to share it with you! Thank you for the ask, my dearest! TW:Sickness&death-Light smut-Minors DNI-5.2k words

Autumn had always been your favorite season.

The most colorful of the four; from your bed you could always see various shades of red, orange, green and yellow, all mixed together to create a vibrant, warm impressionistic painting. Just looking at the bright shades outside had always made you smile.

There was also this peaceful ambiance around autumn that you could feel but not quite understand. Something so profound and yet ephemeral in a way.

"Should I close the window before I go?", Alice asked you, a sad smile on her face. Your favorite hospice nurse had spent her last shift before her holiday almost exclusively with you - somehow you both knew there wasn't much time left. The sickness that ate away at your body was unforgiving - you knew it was simply a matter of days now, and even that was generous. Alice must've sensed it, too.

"No, no.", you replied with a warm smile. "Leave it open. The night nurse can close it later."

Alice nodded, said her goodbyes and gave you a kiss on the head before exiting the room, carefully closing the heavy wooden door with a thud of painful finality. Breathing had become painful lately, but despite the sting you inhaled deeply, just to burn the smell of bristle leafs and warm wood into your memory. Right next to the memory of him.

Alastor.

Summoning him hadn't been easy, especially since you were bedridden and almost constantly monitored. Not only did you have to take special care of choosing the right night to be left unsupervised - you had to bribe Alice and make her believe it was her own idea to give you a few hours to be on your own, which you claimed to need desperately. The internet had been your biggest friend in the weeks before, preparing - you had used the time you had at your disposal to research on shady websites and occult forums who to summon, how to do the ritual and, in case he said no, which bargain to offer. And you chose Alastor.

It was the name that spoke to you the most - Unusual. Mature. Vintage. Mysterious. Powerful and yet gentle, in it's own way. 'Mans defender'. 'Avenger'. The more you read about him on dubious servers and obscure wiki's, the more you were sure it should be him. Still able to use your hands back then, in the chosen night you managed to follow all of the instructions perfectly, even while bound to your bed. When the living shadow appeared out of nowhere, twisting and contorting into the shape of a tall, handsome, dapper dressed demon, the tiny handheld radio you had in your hands slid from your weakened grip and your heart skipped a beat. As he stepped nearer, the perceived humanity of his appearance disappeared before your eyes - long, black fingers ending in red talons, small antlers sitting in between fluffy crimson-colored ears, razor-sharp teeth and blood-red irises shining with curiosity. He stopped just a foot away in front of your bed. As he began to talk, to introduce himself - as though being summoned by gravely sick human women were the norm - you stopped him with a raise of your hand, the action draining your already weakened body and mind.

"I know who you are. Alastor, the Radio Demon."

"My reputation precedes me, then!", he chimed, his voice pointed, melodic and so enchantingly and contradictorily full of life. His whole posture, his devious smile and the way his eyes glinted in the dim moonlight made it very clear that he was a dangerous creature, and yet, you felt strangely at ease.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this summoning, my dear?"

You swallowed hard, knowing full well that if you wanted him to accept your deal, you needed to choose your words carefully.

"I... I am dying."

Alastor's grin twitched, but he said nothing, only tilted his head and waited for you to continue, hands folded behind his back.

"I've been sick my whole life, I...", you felt the need to explain, so that your offer wouldn't sound so... well, pitiful.

"Ever since I was born, I have been bound first to my crib, then to a bed, the hospital and now this hospice. I have never been allowed or even able to go to school, or make friends, or just... do things that children ought to do. Even though my life was always going to be short lived."

You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but blinked them away - you didn't want to cry in front of him, you felt pathetic as you were already. "I missed out on every milestone, every first experience a girl should have. First trip to a park, first day at school, first friend, first kiss, first... everything. And I'll miss out on so many more. I just want to have one normal thing, one 'first' before I die. One memory of a real and happy experience. Of something good."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?", he asked, a brow raised, his smile growing wider. He could probably hear the beating of your heart as you took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never.

"I want to lose my virginity."

The silence following your calmly stated confession was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. It took a while for Alastor to say something.

"Oh my, you really don't mince words, do you, darling?"

You shook your head.

"I have no time to waste. Every second counts."

"Believe me, little one, I'm quite... flattered that you'd go through the trouble of a summoning ritual for this... let's call it: venture. But... why me? Aren't there any men up here you would rather be with?"

"Have you looked at me?", you laughed bitterly. "I'm a sick, dying 20-something in a hospice bed. No man would ever so much as touch me. If I'd even get to meet anyone, since I can't get out of this bed anymore without a nurse. I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, not even money. I have only my soul. Please."

The last word came out as a whisper. Alastor's eyes glowed red in the growing darkness, his grin ever-present. He seemed to consider it for a moment, the sound of humming static the only sound in the room and you feared he might reject you.

"If I were to agree, would you truly be willing to pay the price for it? Your soul, darling, is a very precious thing. Do you know the implications of it's loss?"

You nodded.

"Yes. You can have it. It's not worth anything anyway."

Alastor stepped forward, his eyes locked with yours. He didn't sit down on the bed, instead he stood right beside you, bending over until his face was just inches from yours, the back of his hand lightly brushing your fringe out of your face. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of blood and something earthy, like wet soil or moss. He smelled like a forest in autumn.

"It is worth quite a bit, actually. More than you can imagine, I'd wager.", his voice was quiet, almost unfiltered and utterly beautiful. "But I can see you are dead set on it - Pardon the wordplay."

His sharp claw pressed into your skin, eliciting a gasp. He followed the curve of your cheek to your chin, lifting it to better access the side of your neck, just under your jaw. Your skin broke out in goosebumps because for the first time in your life, you felt a touch that was not clinical, not meant to treat you or wastefully bide you more time. This touch was gentle and purposeful. Sensual, maybe. A soft sigh escaped you against your will.

Alastor let out a hum that was not entirely unhappy, before bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You could feel the ends of his fluffy hair tickling your face, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your skin.

"A happy memory, you say. One satisfying experience in return for your soul. I am certainly not usually known for my kindness, dear.", he muttered against the skin of your cheek, before turning towards your lips. So close. Your heart was beating as loud and as fast as it could, making you dizzy. "But I think we have ourselves a deal."

The golden hour has passed, turning bright orange light into fading blue to black. And the air was turning colder. The memory of that night was the only thing you thought about as you slowly felt death approaching.

The way his lips felt against your mouth, his tongue and the sweet taste he left on your lips that still lingered whenever you ran yours across them, recalling the sensation just once more. He had been gentle, patient, always asking and never assuming or forceful. He made sure you were comfortable before exploring you, careful in the places he touched, mindful in tasting you, praising you for the sounds you made. He allowed you to do your share of exploring, too, and although he wasn't human you found his body still wonderfully, beautifully male, no matter his thin, soft taupe fur and his many, shimmering scars. The memory of the moment when he had finally filled you, tender and slow, was as much sweet pain as it was blissful pleasure, and you found solace in his warmth and the steady, rhythmic pace of him moving inside you as you spilled his name, over and over again until he spent himself inside you, bodies deeply connected. It was hard for you to believe that all of it had been actually true, and not just one big fever dream your dying mind had cooked up to send you off gently when Alice woke you from your sleep later that night, wondering aloud why you didn't turn off the little, handheld radio on the floor that was still playing soft jazz music.

But the little, red and blue marks on your collarbones and the one red-and-black strand of hair you had found on your pillow were telltale signs that everything had been indeed real, and you made sure every detail was etched into your heart, into your body and into your skin. It was, and would remain forever, the happiest moment of your entire life.

'I hope my soul is worth enough...' you thought as the coldness finally embraced you, tears running freely down your cheeks now, but the smile on your face was wide and warm, and the last thing you heard before falling into your final sleep was the gentle hum of a breeze that brought in the smell of earth and rain and leaves.

Alastor had no need for sleep. He usually didn't spend his nights sitting in his favorite chair, motionless, listening to music. He was far too busy, too full of life and plans and energy to sit around and just wait for morning. And yet, there he was, sitting and brooding for the last month, every night, his ears tuned in on the low, static-y noise coming from the old-fashioned radio he was holding. A radio eerily similar to hers.

'How did it come to this?', he wondered for the thousandth time, like a broken record. 'Why did I do it?'

He couldn't fathom the reason for his actions that night, why he had given in to the strange, frivolous request of the frail young woman. Why he had agreed to take her virginity, of all things, in exchange for her soul. Granted, she wasn't the first to offer him that, not by far. But usually, the soul was the last thing a sinner offered, after a great many things of lesser value had been already offered and declined in return. It was, in essence, the most desperate measure, taken only by those who had nothing else to lose.

And yet, she had promised him her soul in the very beginning, treating it not as a valuable bargaining chip, but as an expendable object. A thing without use or worth. He didn't know what had intrigued him so much that night. She had been sickly and fragile, her skin almost translucent in the pale light, and yet there was a spark in her eye. Determination, maybe. Her voice had been strong, if quiet, and her smile, although sad, was still familiarly bright. The way she spoke and her body language had made it clear that she had been not as much afraid of him, despite her frail and vulnerable position, as she had been anxious about his response. She was clearly clever and resolute, despite her lack of personal experience. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to follow through the summoning ritual.

"I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, no money. O only have my soul. Please."

He couldn't remember a single instance where someone had begged him with the simple word please and he gave into it. And yet, he had accepted her plea - The whole of her soul, in exchange for a meager, single moment of ridiculous passion. The mere thought had repulsed him before: Body on body, blunt thumps of fleshes, debauched obscenities... it was something that had never held his interest. He felt like it was something unrefined and animalistic, something he had always regarded as unnecessary and obsolete. Until then.

Her body had responded so eagerly, so sensitive, so ready to his touches. It had been clear she hadn't lied about her virginity, and yet her eagerness, her fearlessness had surprised him. Acting solely based on instinct and the morals he was brought up with, no real experience of his own himself, he had tried to be as careful and gentle as he could, and somehow, her inexperience had made it... easier. She was not expecting anything in terms of skill, and thus he had to guide her through the process, allowing him to set the pace and giving him ample time to react to her reactions. Sweet gasps, subtle tremors, faint flushes - all of which had told him how she had felt, what had been pleasurable and what had been uncomfortable. He had been able to take his time and make sure she enjoyed herself. It had been fascinating and even... pleasurable for him, too.

Despite the obvious pain, she had kept her eyes open, watching his face intently as they connected. He had felt the warmth and the tension around him, and her little, breathy gasps had been such pleasant sounds that when she had finally found her release, it had triggered his own, foreign as it had been. She had sighed his name in pure bliss, and in that moment he had felt as powerful and as satisfied as the night he had gained his title as Radio Demon.

And when the deed had been done, the girl had smiled so serenely, he was sure he had rarely ever seen anything that could rival her in beauty.

Alastor shifted uncomfortably at that thought, trying to will away the memory and the sensation that the mere thought of her smile invoked.

It had taken a few minutes, but eventually he had collected himself and put his clothes back on. Her eyes had followed him, the spark back in them and even brighter than before, her smile not faltering even when her tired lids had drooped down, slowly lulling her to sleep. Alastor had stood there, in the small, plain hospice room, watching her for a while, a strange feeling in his chest. The deal hadn't been solidified by a handshake, her soul not yet firmly bound to him and the contract void if not officially sealed, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her. Something had stopped him.

The memory of her face, pale and beautiful, smiling so peacefully even in her slumber, made the corners of his lips twitch. She would've made a magnificent addition to his collection of souls. And yet, and yet... He had decided then and there that her soul would find its way to him, eventually. But not through the proposed deal. So, he had left, the exchange unfulfilled, the pact broken, turning on the small radio she had let slip onto the floor just as he heard her caretaker returning to check on her.

'Oh, how the mighty have fallen.', he mused bitterly, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"Alastor?"

Charlie's voice was a mix of concern and curiosity, muffled by the thick, wooden door of his room. She sounded worried, probably wondering why he had excused himself from the hotel's interactions more and more for the past weeks. He was about to ignore her, not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not her, persistent thing that she was, but when her soft knock followed her call, his smile widened tightly and his eyes flashed red.

"Charlie, dear, I'm afraid I'm not available at the moment.", he called out, his tone a bit sharper than usual.

"Sorry, but...", the princess sounded hesitant, and he could hear her shuffle awkwardly outside. "It's just... There is someone in the lobby, wanting to speak to you. It seems... important."

He got up from his chair with an annoyed sigh and switched off the radio, straightened his clothes and smoothed out his hair and bow tie with one swipe. Whatever business matter was brought forward, Alastor didn't feel like discussing it. The smile he wore was razor sharp and dark, a result of his annoyance and brooding mood, and yet he couldn't bring himself to feign his cheery personality just quite yet. Maybe this mystery visitor would be a suitable punching bag to let off some of that steam.

When Alastor finally opened the door and walked down to the lobby next to a flustered looking Charlie, his breath hitched involuntarily and he froze mid-stride. Charlie stumbled at the sudden lack of motion next to her, the deafening static sound and the chime-like tuning of a radio startling her so much she flinched away from him.

"H-Hey Al!?", she called in shock, "Are you okay?"

He didn't move, didn't even react - his attention was solely focused on the figure standing at the front-desk, who, just a moment ago, had talked to Husker before turning around upon hearing him.

Hell kept her skin white and almost translucent in it's spite, but granted her soft, shimmering silvery fur in it's mercy. Her frame wasn't thin and frail anymore, she looked plush and healthy, soft curves where there had been nothing more than skin and bone before. Keeping almost all of her human features intact, the small, round ears protruding from her hair, the pink-tipped nose and the long and slender tail were definitely characteristics of a dormouse, their ends almost silver and soft-looking. Her eyes were of the same gentle color that he remembered, and when her lips spread into a sad, tender smile his breath was stolen away completely.

It was the same smile. The very one he hadn't been able to purge from his mind, and most likely never would.

"Alastor."

The sound of her voice, quiet and melodic as it had been weeks before, felt like an invisible touch that pulled the air out of him. Not enough to suffocate him, but he was still reeling none the less.

"So you finally succumbed, it seems..."

His usual bravado was absent, his voice lacked it's sharp, jovial tone, sounding more like he was actually talking. Charlie could do little more but watch with widened eyes, seemingly unable to fathom the scene right in front of her.

"What are you talking about, Alastor? How do you know...", the princess spoke carefully and uncertain, her eyes wandering from one demon to another, but she was quickly interrupted, not by him, but by...

"It's a long story better told another time, Miss Charlie.", she said with a genuine smile on her face, still not able to take her eyes off Alastor. She took a few tentative steps towards him, careful, but certain in her movement, a confidence about her that hadn't been there before. Her head tilted in an enigmatic way and she spoke again, this time solely directed at him.

"I'm truly sorry to impose. But I was hoping we could talk... privately."

Alastor nodded mutely, not able to think clearly, before taking a deep breath and straightening his back to tower over her once again. Husk seemed to notice his shift in composure, raising a brow when he passed him by on his way back behind the bar, noticing the strangely satisfied looking smile on Alastor's face that was as unnerving and frightening as always, but with a different tint that even Husk must've trouble placing guessing by the suspicious look that fell over the cat's face.

"Of course, my dear, my office will suffice. If you'll excuse us, Charlotte? We'll be only a short while."

He didn't wait for her response but took his guest by her arm and guided her past an astonished Husk and clearly confused Charlie, leading the girl down the hall and to his office, the air between them thick with something undefinable, and neither of them dared to speak until the heavy mahogany door fell shut, effectively cutting off all outside interference.

Her cheeks were flushed when she stepped closer towards him. The tips of his claws brushed against her fringe, following the curve of her soft ear, across the back of her delicate neck to pluck a strand of her hair, pulling it towards him and running the silky fiber between two fingers and over the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his lips with a deep, pleased inhale.

She looked up at him, her smile shy but hopeful.

"You remember me.", she said with a chuckle, her voice a bit higher, her ears twitching and her tail swaying behind her, showing her emotions all too easily. Alastor nodded, not letting go of her hair just yet.

"How could I not, dear. It's not common for me to leave a contract unsettled, you know."

"I had a feeling that might've been the case, since it took me so long to find you.", she said quietly. "So, my soul..."

"... is still yours, yes."

She wasn't looking at him, directly. Her gaze went over his suit, to his hands and cane, then back to the floor.

"Why?", she asked, a hint of confusion and hurt in her voice, her silken hair slipping from his fingers.

"Why didn't you claim it? You had every right, after all. I offered, you agreed and..."

Alastor didn't speak, couldn't speak. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, and yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to share it. It felt... strange, and foreign, and not quite comfortable. But it was undeniably true, now - with her in front of him - clearer than any time in the last weeks in his chair, each night, in front of the fireplace.

He wanted her. Not just her soul. Her. So, he settled on silence and a half-truth, instead.

"It wasn't the right time, dear."

Her face turned to him, her eyes searching his. He felt exposed, like her eyes were piercing him.

"And now...?"

"That remains to be seen. Why are you here?", he countered, stepping back to put a more comfortable distance between them.

"I came to see you, because..." She swallowed hard, and Alastor watched her throat, the soft swell of her breasts under her modest blouse, the slight rise of her belly. "When I arrived in hell, I felt... weird. I thought it was because of all the changes, this new body and... generally being here. But it didn't go away, this.... feeling. I made friends with a lovely imp couple, they took me in after I fell. The wife, Millie, took me to a doctor because she got worried when I couldn't stop throwing up..."

Her face grew hot, a flush spreading across her cheeks, her ears folding back against her head.

"Alastor, I'm pregnant."

A loud bang rang through the hallway as Alastor dropped his cane and a deafening feedback noise filled the room. For the first time in what must have been decades, his face betrayed him completely, the smile ripping at the sewn edges as it dropped violently. He felt dizzy and his head was spinning.

"Impossible.", he breathed, the word almost getting stuck in his throat. The very notion was ridiculous, unheard of - clearly that must be a crude joke. Alastor started to laugh, though sounding not as amused and booming as he would've hoped, but more hysterical than anything else.

She stayed silent, looking at him with sad, but serious and almost pleading eyes as the truthfulness of her confession began to sink in and his laughter slowly died. He took a tentative step forward, a million questions running through his head, the sheer amount overwhelming his usually so precise mind.

"So, a month ago, it...", he stopped, feeling the corners of his mouth pull wider.

"...yes. The doctor told me there are only a handful similar cases like this known since hell was created... The circumstances are 'too specific' and it normally takes a vast amount of intimate interactions' between a hellbound sinner and a living, fertile human he said... Seems like you knocked me up with one round, buster." She wrung her hands, her smile forced and unsure. "Listen, Alastor... I know it sounds impossible. I mean, I couldn't believe it at first when he told me so I understand you can't, too... but I don't expect anything, I really don't. I just... I wanted to see you again, and-and you deserve to know, and..."

"Darling, hush.", Alastor interrupted, a sense of clarity taking hold of his chaotic mind. He had never felt a desire for a family, not in his lifetime nor in his death. Partners were liabilities and a distraction, relationships nuisances if they strayed beyond the borders of business or at the very most friendly aquaintances. He had no need for things like these in the past, looking down on people desperate to seek out partners, claiming to be lonely when in truth they were just weak or simply starving for a touch of the 'opposite sex' to make up for their own inadequacy.

Now, faced with the reality of fatherhood in a matter of minutes and the prospect of his life being bound to another - one who, undoubtedly, bore his child, no less - Alastor would be lying if he had claimed a part of him didn't absolutely reel at the prospect. A responsibility greater than his own had just fallen into his lap - a vulnerability he never asked for and certainly didn't expect.

But.

A part of him would come into the world, no matter whether it would look human, or demonic like him, or whatever strange combination of them both: This child would be proof of him. Him, not anyone else. There would be a person dependent on him for guidance and protection, a legacy he would be allowed to leave, a lineage that could one day claim that he, Alastor, had been the founding cause. His legacy. His blood and his seed had created another being against all rules and logic, an offspring, maybe a girl, maybe it would resemble him, or her, or even... his mother.

Despite the incredulity and the sheer panic the revelation brought, the longer he looked at the tiny dormouse in front of him, the more he realized how similar her traits were to his own mother's. Soft, but determined. Sad, but brave. Young but aged.

No, this hadn't been just some fleeting fling - Alastor had to believe in fate, given what she told him. There had been a reason why he didn't seal the deal that night. Why he had agreed to her request so easily. The more Alastor thought about the potential of a shared offspring, along with a loyal partner on his side, about the what-ifs and could-bes, the more appealing and pleasant the future appeared. She was carrying a being he created, one that had his essence – All the more stronger his grin widened, stretching so far it caused his cheeks to ache, but his blooming glee knew no bounds. He saw, to his own surprise, not a weakness or vulnerability.

But his greatest achievement.

With a laugh, this time sincere and booming and loud instead of hysterical, he picked her up on her waist, knocking the air out of her in a gasp, and swung her around several times.

"O-oh! Oh my goodness!", she stuttered, eyes wide and brows furrowed. "Alastor, calm down!"

"Oh, no no no, I simply can't! Dear, do you have any idea what a marvel you have wrought!?", he exclaimed in delight, setting her back down and bringing both hands up to her cheeks. "We've created a magnificent abomination!"

Her head shook as she chuckled, still nervous but with an edge of relief in her voice. "That's certainly one way of saying it. But... are... are you saying that... you are okay with it? That you..."

"What, dear?", he cooed, her big eyes shining hopefully as her ears twitched curiously. His chest swelled with affection, and he gently squeezed her cheeks between his hands.

"Does a daddy on your side scare you, darling?"

"N-No-oh."

The title invoked a peculiar reaction, and he made a mental note to use it again soon enough, as her cheeks flushed in a dusty rose. Alastor felt an unfamiliar and somehow primal pleasure at the sight of it, a surge of happiness in his chest, the warmth of it nearly too much. He pulled her face against his, smothering her with a kiss. He wasn't familiar with such embraces, but she felt like she was specifically molded to fit perfectly into him, her ears flicking with every beat of her racing heart.

There were tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and as he kissed her cheeks and brushed them away with his thumbs. Oh yes, Alastor was filled with a new kind of giddy excitement.

"Come on, dear, let's not waste time to spread the good news!", he exclaimed, unable to reign his euphoric mood, and before she could comment on his actions, he reached out and lifted her over his shoulder in one fluid movement, ignoring her startled squawk. The look of utter bewilderment on her face almost made him break out into more laughter, but he was already out the door, ready to take his child's mother, who was, without a doubt in his mind, bound to him forever with a force much stronger than any deal he could've made, downstairs to tell the news to his fellow friends, who would have no choice but to learn what a truly dangerous deal looked like.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #charlie morningstar #hazbin husk #habin hotel #soft alastor #hazzbin pregnancy #quickfic

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cheeseceli · 1 day

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Won't let go

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: headcanons, fluff

Prompt: "I swear to God when I come home I'll hold you so close, I'll never let go"

Warnings: Hyunjin is an idol, reader lives in Korea with him (no nationality mentioned)

A/n: you have never seen hyunjin and James Arthur in the same place | join the 1k event!

Lately, Hyunjin has been smiling a lot whenever he's at the airport, just a few hours from home

And he swears he loves his job, he really does, but he also admits he doesn't like everything that comes with it

And one of the things he dislikes was being away from home for so long

Away from you

That's precisely the reason why paparazzi and fans always see him smiling after landing in Korea after a tour or outside promos

Because he's so close from seeing you again

He can barely contain all his excitement

He's always at the front, bodyguards and staff constantly reminding him of walking slowly

And then he enters the car and I almost feel bad for his designated driver

He's often asking how long it will take to reach the destination, what time it is, if the driver can go to some shortcuts, if it's really needed to stop at the gas station...

The driver might as well start speeding just to get rid of him already

Of course, he asked to stop by at your place

It honestly surprised the members how he was able to jump out of the car so fast without tripping like he did

And in less than 5 seconds he was already at your doorstep, knocking at the door unafraid of your neighbours who were already sleeping

And in less than 5 seconds you opened the door

You barely had the time to see him as he hugged you tighter than you thought it was possible

That's how you both spent the following minutes: tears falling from your eyes as you realised how much you missed his warmth and his face buried in the crook of your neck, wishing he could actually merge with you

Those are the moments where no one hears a word from Hyunjin for the next three days or so

The company, the fans and even his members wouldn't know anything about his whereabouts

When he finally comes home to you, the only thing he wants to do is to be around you to try and compensate for all the time he's been away

And if it was up to him, he would never let go

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Awaken Beauty

Thank you for reading <3 don't forget the feedback!

Taglist (open): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @strangergraphics

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anki-of-beleriand · 1 day

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A heart Made of Glass ch.12

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

Okay, this chapter had some tricks in it that are surronding Reader and Wanda, this is their story and this time around Reader would need to make the right decision if she wants to get what she wants and what she needs.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chpter 12

Chapter 12

In a different world

The universe started with a spark of bright golden light.

Loki Odinson had seen it several times, he had witnessed the birth and death of multiple universes and timelines that were destined to perish in a myriad of colours that would soon be forgotten. He had sat on the throne, and while he was not a King himself, he could recall the faces of all of those poor souls that disappeared into the nothingness, just as he could remember the beauty behind the first spark of life.

However, what he was experimenting right now was nothing like it.

Whatever, or whoever had decided to intervene had messed up with his own spell and everything had exploded into nothingness. A single spark of red, green and golden then, nothingness. Black spaces that disappeared without any traces left behind.

Loki started at the empty space that was Wanda and Y/N’s basement before he sighed. He sat down shaking his head, a headache approaching just as he thought on the oncoming conversation he would need to sustain with the Avengers.

“Fuck.” The word rolled out of his lips in such a natural way, he could do nothing but leaned back against the wall.

What the hell just happened?

What did he do?

What did Wanda and Y/N do to get this reaction?

The silence soon became deafening, Loki located the book Strange had died trying to recover. He frowned while leaning over to pick it up, the spell was done correctly with all the right wording as well as the right drawings on the ground. So, why did it go wrong? His eyes scanned the pages, re-reading the passages over and over until his heart dropped at one particular line, something he had overlooked the very first time he read that passage.

“…this, however, may be counterproductive if there is a magical or multiversal energy interference, the amount of energy converging at one point may created an unexpected result and…”

Loki knew the rest by heart, he knew there could be troubles but…well, how many energies were involved in the spell? He had counted on those signatures coming from Wanda and Y/N, he had even counted on his but…was there anybody else out there? Was there anybody else at the other side of the multiverse?

“Shit.” Loki stood up fixing up his clothes before flickering his hand to open a portal. He needed to face the consequences of his acts, and the first stop would be the Avengers Tower and Steve Roger’s office.

The former Captain America was going to enjoy telling Loki ‘I told you so’, just before hitting him in the face.

With one last glance to the basement, Loki turned around and left the place.

He never worried to test the energy fields around, or to tap into the timelines flickering in front of his eyes. It never occurred to him that, as soon as the explosion happened, a new singular timeline appeared right before his eyes just to blend itself with the other timelines flickering in front of Loki.

No one but the Watcher could see it, The Watcher stood in the sidelines furrowing his brows and waiting.

The world would either collapse in itself, or it would fix the anomalies by itself.

Either way, he was watching history, and the future of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

_________________________________________

Darkness had always been your friend.

You were born in it, and it had been your weapon and your refugee in the hardest of times. That was the main reason you didn’t panic at first, everything around you was filled with the purest form of darkness with a single touch of coldness that sneaked inside your clothes. The hairs on your arms stood up, a shiver went right through your muscles making you groan as you finally experience the pain in your body.

Your mouth opened inhaling deeply filling your lungs with gusts of cold air, your chest contracting itself just before you started coughing. It was then you opened your eyes, and the darkness that you had experienced moments ago was nothing but you woke up from unconsciousness.

The first thing you noticed were different white dots in the sky winking back at you. You tried to grasp a single thought, seeking around your mind for a coherent idea but it was almost impossible to do so when the rest of your body was finally receiving different stimulus in the way of pain and coldness.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called to your left, you tried to sit up but a single hand placed itself on your shoulder pressing you to the ground.

“Ease there, pal, you were really hurt back there.”

Even if you didn’t get a chance to sit up, your world started spinning around. The voice was so familiar, yet so different to what you were used to; with some reluctance you turned your face to the right and soon you found yourself looking at yourself.

The other woman offered a tentative smile, though the way she was squinting her eyes and the pursed of her lips told you she was just as confused as you were at the moment. Soft footsteps approached you, America Chavez was wearing a single cut on her cheek and a bruised eye, this time around you didn’t let you counterpart to stop you, you sat up to check over the teen kneeling beside you.

“America, are you alright?” Your eyes rolled back for a moment, your knees fell harshly on the ground while you held yourself with a single hand placed on your leg.

“Y/N, please…” America winced lightly glancing at you then at your counterpart. “I think you were the one that suffered the most…”

“It was my fault, actually. So, sorry?”

You blinked a couple of times, shaking your head made the headache worse and the dizziness settled on your lower abdomen. You lifted your face blinking a couple of times before checking America over, the young woman softened her features with her cheeks colouring pink while her lips tried to offer a single smile. You tried to ignore the other Y/N for as long as you could before turning around to settle your eyes on her.

Just like America, she was wearing a single cut on her forehead with her clothes dishevelled but otherwise nothing else. With some reluctance you lifted your eyes looking deep into those eyes that you knew so well.

“This is the weirdest shit I have ever had to live to date.” You finally said shaking your head, “I hope it is the last weird shit ever.”

“Agreed.” Y/N tilted her head furrowing her brows while giving you a quick glance. “Before this happened, I’m afraid I was in your body fighting with someone that got lucky…so…”

“So, that’s why I feel like this?” You cracked smile, your counterpart nodded mirroring the smile on your face. “Okay, got it, so…what the hell is going on?”

America and Y/N glanced at one another then at you, it wasn’t until then that you decided to take a good look at the surrounding area. The place in itself was nothing strange, yet you got a feeling that this was not your universe or even that of your counterpart.

The sky was completely dark filled stars but as you got to observe them above your head you realized there were not your stars. The constellations you had come to know thanks to Natasha and Carol had been changed and were replaced by different forms you did not recognize. With a single frown you lowered your eyes to find yourself in a plain of land filled with dried grass that extended beyond what the eyes could see. It was an empty land, with nothing beyond the darkness of the night without any moon it was hard to actually see something that could give you an idea of your location.

The sound of whistling called your attention, and soon you found yourself being wrapped tightly by two pair of arms. Before you could protest or ask what they were doing, you experience the sharp bite of wind, A cold, merciless breeze that soon turned into a whirlwind that left as suddenly as it had come.

“Wh-what the hell?” Your eyes opened wide, your teeth chattering while America and Y/N leaned back wincing.

“We need to move.”

You furrowed your brows shaking your head, “move where? I can barely see you two, how are we going to see the path or…where the hell are we?”

America sighed standing up, she stretched her hand to you offering a tender smile.

“You haven’t figured it out?”

You stood on weakened legs, your mouth opened ready to protest until you finally realised it. While it was true there was nothing much to see beyond the darkness and the starry night, you could see America and your counterpart just fine. It took you but a few minutes until, you lifted your hand and the shadows followed you giving you a good glance of what was around you.

“We can manipulate shadows, the night in itself is darkness and filled with the main source of our power.” Y/N stated matter-of-factly while standing before you, you nodded curtly feeling foolish for not even thinking about it.

“Are you guys going to tell me what’s going on?”

America grabbed your hand, then turning to Y/N she shrugged also grabbing her hand as well.

“We may as well update her while we continue walking.”

“We saw lights coming from what we think was a village a few kilometres away, were trying to get there until these weird whirlwinds came in and we couldn’t carry you anymore.” Y/N explained shrugging. “We’re guessing once we get to some sort of place filled with civilization we will know more…”

“Why didn’t you try to travel through the shadows?” You asked ready to do so when the warning tone from your own voice stopped you.

“I couldn’t do it without leaving America here, and I have a bad feeling as soon as I tried it…so…” Y/N shrugged looking ahead of her, “I always follow my instincts, they have never failed me.”

The comment sent a sharp pain straight to your heart.

Your instincts had never failed you either.

Nothing else was said after this, the three of you were following the direction America had pointed out but you were just lost not really knowing if this was the right path or just a wild guess. The temperature was dropping even more, soon your teeth were chattering alongside those of America and the other you. You felt a sharp pain through your head, whatever had happened before you woke up had left your body quite bruised and right now all you wanted was to find a bed, an analgesic and something to eat. For a brief moment, an intrusive thought came forward in the form of Wanda, panic rose through your chest and filled your mind but before you could ask anything about her your counterpart spoke.

“I still don’t understand how everything came to be,” she spoke with a tone of voice you were familiar with, you let your eyes wandered around the landscape holding onto every word resounding into the darkness of the night.”

“I remembered when Wanda and I saved America the first time, and then trying to safe her from these creatures chasing her down.” Y/N trailed off with her memories making her falter, with a single shake of her head she continued, “I know I was out for a while, so you can guess how surprised I was to wake up in the arms of someone that wasn’t my wife…”

“Not really.” Your reply was filled with coldness, tension building up in your body, “I have always had the luxury of waking up alone in my bed.”

America winced lifting her head to glance at you, her dark eyes begging you to listen before jumping in whatever discussion you wanted to start.

“Agatha Harkness.” The name reached the inside of your mind with the memory of the file you read on her, not only that, but also the different videos you saw surrounding her story inside of Wanda’s world.

“That was the woman you woke up to every day, Y/N.” America chimed in shyly, she lowered her gaze squeezing your hand tenderly. “She had been dragging Scarlet and Wanda around, draining them of their powers and leaving them defenceless for quite some time, and since…well, since Y/N was under her spell…”

You opened your mouth to speak, you wanted to say something but finding your counterpart’s eyes on you whatever argument you had built inside your mind came crumbling down and soon you were given their side of their story. Little by little the story started making sense, the building of a different world and the intrusive dreams you were having in the last couple of weeks, the purple and red magic surrounding you on that day as well as the mixed-up realities that ended up with you thrown into another’s body. You had always known that Wanda was special, and powerful, you never imagined just how much.

America had been a part of the plan, of course. Her powers would be very beneficial to someone like Agatha, and your powers would make sure no one would ever find her. Everything was about the most basic reason of all: Power. You pursed your lips disgusted; you were dragged into a confrontation with Wanda because there was a woman chasing after power. You had been running from Wanda for more than ten years, and all it took was this woman to ruin everything.

And now, now you were walking down the darkness of the night with a girl that could travel through different universes and your counterpart, a woman that got the life you had dreamt of a long time ago.

“Life is not fair.” Y/N stated glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, “but it is what we have, and we must…”

“…deal with it, take what it is being offered and try to be happy with it.” You finished shaking your head.

“Ah, so not everything is lost, I see.” Y/N allowed a single smile to break on her face, you pursed your lips snorting.

“You don’t know the story.”

“But she does, that’s why she told you those very same words, didn’t she?” Your counterpart stopped all of a sudden, you let out a heavy sigh before turning to face her.

America was standing in between the both of you, her brows knitted together with her gaze travelling around the terrain before settling on the both of you.

“Look, I know that you and Wanda had a different experience than mine, I’m glad you did because…” You trailed off holding onto your emotions, “I don’t wish on you the pain I went through…”

For the very first time ever you saw your own face breaking into a broken-hearted smile, with those eyes losing all light and those lips curving into a crooked smile. It was you looking back, and you understood right there and then that you weren’t the only one.

“You forgive her?” You asked with a hint of hope in your voice, you hated how the question left your lips and how your counterpart understood what you meant.

“How could I not if my heart beats for her?” She replied clenching her eyes closed, her hands rested upon your shoulders before you found yourself looking into your eyes. “There is a difference, though, isn’t it?”

“You guys were not together…” You started but she merely tilted her head.

“You know it wouldn’t matter if we were a couple or not, she chose someone else when we have always chosen her.” Y/N squeezed your shoulders lightly. “The difference is that I gave her a chance because I want to do so, you didn’t because…”

“I don’t believe in second chances! If I have done so she would have broken my heart all over again when she went into her imaginary world with Vision!” You exclaimed enraged, surprising Y/N and America.

The other woman furrowed her brows, she was ready to argue back with you and asked questions about the imaginary world. It was quite evident a lot of things had happened in this strange world and Y/N could only imagine the pain and rage engulfing your heart at the moment.

America could see darkness surrounding the three of you her eyes opening wide almost losing into the shadows until her eyes caught glimpses of red and purple right ahead.

“Guys?” America stuttered lifting her hand and pointing to the distance.

You two stopped your discussion turning around to see the same sparkles of red and purple. It was a formation of dusty colouring breaking into the darkness of the night sky, you turned to the left to see Y/N frowning with determination and America shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“It’s not that far away, I mean it could be at least one kilometre?” Y/N faced you holding onto the previous tension of your conversation with her, you clenched your fist shrugging.

“Looks that way.”

“Are we…” America started but you lifted a hand to silence her.

“Before we jump in to do something I think we need more information, we don’t even know what we are going to find over there.” You looked out of the corner of your eyes; the lights were still gleaming pretty much intensely but you could tell your two companions didn’t want to stay still and do any planning.

“What do you propose?” Y/N asked lifting her chin, “you know pretty well those sparks of crimson are Wanda’s, and we know this woman, this Agatha has been using purple magic. Are you really suggesting we stand here or keep walking in circles?”

“No! All I am asking is to first think about what we are going to do! We’re not even sure where we are much less what we are going to find there.” You asked back lifting your hands in the air and stepping back, the pain you had forgotten in favour of the discussion came back making you winced.

“Look I know you guys think the world of Wanda, and that’s cool, I guess your Wanda,” this time around you pointed to your counterpart trying to remain calm, “she is all love and kindness and that’s fine. The Wanda in world had a total breakdown that enslaved a bunch of people in a reality she created for herself and that microwave she called husband, so forgive me if I’m not going to jump in without any additional information.”

Your tirade echoed through the night, your voice carried by the wind with a dropped in the temperature. The moon that had been travelling with the three of you flickered all of a sudden, and the darkness grew around the three of you. America didn’t miss the flickering lights of crimson and purple, but she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing your hand in hers, the warm she shared with you made you shivered and with some reluctance you lower you stare to her. Even in such a darkness you could see her brown eyes gleaming with emotions.

“You still love her.” America mumbled squeezing your hand tenderly.

You clenched your jaw tilting your head to the side, America bit her lower lip glancing from you to Y/N.

“I don’t know why this has to be so complicated, but she needs you.” America took a deep breath stepping closer to you. “Wanda is sad, and I know she messed up and that forgiveness should not be given just because you feel that way. But she really needs you, she and Scarlet.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened between the both of you.” Y/N stepped in making sure you could not look away from your own eyes. “But the woman I love is out there, being it in this dimension or another Wanda Maximoff would always be MY Wanda and I won’t leave her out there to get hurt. If not for you, then at least do it for me.”

It was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by darkness and coldness that your heart finally gave in. With a nod, your dropped your shoulders in defeat missing the smile coming from America but never missing the satisfied glance coming from your counterpart. The three of you finally turned to the source of the magic, and without a simple plan you three started making your way to the source.

You were not prepared for what was waiting for you over there.

Agatha Harkness smirked at the woman kneeling before her.

In less than a year she had made it possible to crumble away the legend of the Scarlet Witch while placing herself as the most powerful witch in the multiverse. Her smile never faltered, not even when the world spined around changing into a familiar setting; a place and time Agatha had suffered before but that now she could alter with a single flicker of her hand.

The place was filled with passersby ignoring the presence of the two women; nobody seemed to care that one of them was on her knees with a single neck shackle made of light red and blue tied to a crimson necklace Agatha wore on her chest.

“What do you think about this arrangement, dear?” The dark-haired woman asked, her eyes dropping to the kneeling Wanda who was shooting her a stare filled with anger. “Personally, I think this could be more lively, but don't worry soon enough we will have a show to die for.”

Her laughter was accompanied by a flash of violet, and soon the scene changed and they were transferred to a great marketplace located at the centre of the village. Everyone had reunited around four pillared pyres that were guarded by at least ten knights all dressed in black.

Wanda lifted her face, her ears twitched hearing the sound of angry screams cursing someone she couldn't make out yet. Agatha stirred in excitement; her smile grew until it was a crooked grin with just a hint of madness behind it.

“Here they come…”

The crowd spread around just as four figures came in walking on naked feet wearing red robes and bruised faces. The hatred and fear coming from the crowd was quite evident as the torches and the pitchforks drew wild patterns above the townspeople’s heads. The light of the torches ignited the night, Wanda tensed under the grip of the woman standing beside her, the hairs on her arms raising up while her eyes narrowed to follow the events unfolding in front of her.

The four women were pushed forward, each one of them had a single knight standing behind them with heavy hands they were dragged to the four pillars tied to them facing the crowd. It didn’t take her too long to guess what was about to happen, and what exactly were those pillars; the pyres had been set up to ensure everyone could see the women died. The crowd cheered cruelly, laughing and cursing while the four women glared at the people with more bravery than they actually felt.

“This was my coven.” Agatha spat out, her hands sparkling with a mixture of red and purple, “they saw my power, they read my intentions and instead of supporting me they dared to try and stop me…”

“I wonder why.” Wanda couldn’t hold the sarcasm behind her voice, Agatha pulled harshly on the ropes holding her neck making Wanda fall on her back.

“You really are more daring than your counterparts, dear. I would be careful, if I were to be honest I don’t need you alive.”

Agatha caressed the necklace smirking at Wanda, the woman couldn’t hide her anger and the magic that was pulsating inside her was not enough to protect her from Agatha’s anger. Soon Wanda let out a scream of pain, her body twitching painfully until he couldn’t keep her eyes open and all she could think about was the searing pain on her limbs.

“It has been so long since I was just a lowly witch like them, afraid of fire and the angry crowd. I grew to be magnificent, to have power beyond anyone’s imagination…” Agatha continued with his rambling observing with gleaming eyes as the Major of the town stood forward proclaiming the sins of the four women.

“I just had to find you, Wanda, you and that so-called Scarlet Witch.” Wanda took a deep breath, half hearing the woman while watching with horror as the night above her head flickered from one setting to another.

“It was not easy, you know?”

Agatha flickered her hand to the right and soon Wanda was on her knees watching as the world around her changed. It was like watching a movie in a dome. The world changed to day and night flickering images of Agatha dragging her burnt body through the ground whispering spells that only she could hear. The image soon changed showing the passing of time, Agatha looking around the world and stealing the magic of others while seeking something out of desperation.

She finally found it after more than a century.

Wanda opened her eyes at the familiar setting, Kamar Taj stood under stormy winds and heavy snow. Agatha sneaked around, distracting the inhabitants of the temple by provoking landslides that would certainly have killed innocent people if it hadn’t been by the protectors of the temple. She had enough time to steal a single book.

“Y-you…you stole the..th-e…the Drakhold.” Wanda leaned forward resting her hands on the ground, she was shocked to find the snow under her hands was real and that everything she was seeing was not an illusion but a real event.

Her mind was trying to comprehend what was really happening. Her knowledge of the Darkhold had not been as broad as it had been for Strange and even Loki. But she did know one thing or two about the origins of her powers, Chaos Magic had been called and it gave her the power to bend reality and life in ways not many could access to. The darkness inside her had been contained by her family and her loved ones, but the same could not be said by others, apparently.

“I did.” Agatha finally answered tilting her head, soon the scene changed and they were taken to a place Wanda was familiar with.

Westview.

“Yet, I was still not strong enough, or the only one with powers beyond our imaginations.” Agatha made a face, stepping forward strolling down the streets with Wanda following her. “When the Avengers showed up it was quite evident that people with powers could no longer be hidden. It was my time to shine until you, my dear Wanda, showed up.”

Wanda saw herself in a building in Sokovia, it was a place she was familiar with yet the story that was unfolding in front of her had nothing to do with what she had lived once. Her other self struggled to control her powers, to live her life, to be who she was supposed to be but failed every single time. Agatha had never been too far from those events, and whenever Wanda failed, Agatha would clutch the young woman closer to her. The red and purple magic intertwined without anyone noticing.

“What did you do?” Wanda asked, finding herself in the middle of the square in Westview. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining right above their heads and not a single cloud in sight.

Agatha smirked, her eyes changing colours to one of deep crimson, “I finally became who I am supposed to be, and soon my dear I will have all the power to bend the universes at my will. And now, I will finish what I started all those months ago with your pathetic counterpart and you will help me out with this.”

The world suddenly exploded around them, Wanda clenched her jaw closed, lifting her eyes to the sky to see the runes above her head.

“You…” She gritted her teeth, her eyes closing right away trying to gather her thoughts and power to stop the woman standing beside her.

Agatha chuckled darkly, her gripped on Wanda tightened allowing the influx of memories to invade the mind of the redhead. It was a life she was no familiar with, a suffering she had not experiment in the same way but that generate in her an understanding of the mess this world was in. She could see the moment Agatha entered the story, the failures and the almost victories until finally she got what she wanted.

A weakened Wanda Maximoff without anyone in the world to stand by her side.

Power.

And a way to get away with her plan.

“You…you won’t win.” Wanda finally got out; her eyes gleaming dangerously at the other woman who made a face rolling her eyes.

“I already did, dear. You just haven’t realized it yet.” Agatha let go of Wanda stepping away.

The brunette straightened up lifting her arms in front of her, her hands creating a purple mist while the necklace she wore zealously around her neck gleamed with intensity. Those eyes that moment’s ago had been brown, were now a deep black and the world around Wanda trembled under the electric shift of power the witch was gathering around her.

“Now, I have all the pieces in place, in my world…under my rules.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, “I will bend everyone to my will…and you, Wanda, will be nothing but a bad memory.”

The sky above their heads changed into darkness, the temperature dropped and Wanda felt the heavy weight of the atmosphere overwhelming her. She could sense her counterpart weakening inside the prison Agatha had chosen for her, her thoughts were still a mixture of memories she couldn’t quite place while the heavy emotions running through her soul threaten to overwhelm. Wanda could read the intentions behind the woman standing before her, she could read the hatred and violence behind those dark eyes. Lifting her chin to the sky, and her eyes showing off her own magic she decided if this was going to be her end, she would face it with defiance.

The ball of energy flickered in Agatha’s hand, the world stood still and the with smirked ready to give the final blow.

Agatha was so concentrated in her final goal, she never noticed she was no longer alone and what she though was illusions of her own invention were actually three people she didn’t think would be a problem until one of them stood right in front of her shielding Wanda from an imminent dead.

You had crossed the protective barrier around the strange town with a single thought in mind. Your intention was to get this over with and go back to your life on Norway, your heart beating fast while your mind protest for the easiness in which you were trying to go back to a life in which you were ignoring the woman that had never left your heart. It looked easy, just do your thing and then fixed whatever mess you were in and then…go back.

But the universe and the Powers That Be decided that it wouldn’t be just as easy as a flickered of your hand.

As soon as the three of you crossed the barrier you were face to face with flashes of memories that presented you with a film of the lives of Wanda and Agatha. The stories of the coven and the search for power, as well as the fall of Sokovia and Wanda’s struggles with her powers and her life.

“This is so wrong.” Y/N stated clenching her fist while stepping forward until she was finally standing beside you, the both of you stood on an empty street hearing the sounds of muffled conversation.

“Any plan?” You finally stated ignoring the piercing pain in your heart, your counterpart shrugged nodding to the darkened street that was flashing a mixture of red and purple.

“I think the best approach is a straightforward one.”

“Humph, so go there and just start fighting?” You replied with your lips breaking into a single smirk.

“Yep, pretty much.”

“That doesn’t sound like a solid plan.” America mumbled unsure, she furrowed her brows turning to you and then to your counterpart.

You turned to America placing a hand on her shoulder, “but it is what we have. You are going to stay here and wait.”

“But…I can fight! I can help!” America stepped back frowning, “I won’t be left behind…”

“I know you can fight, kiddo.” You replied tilting your head, “and that’s why you are staying behind.”

America opened her mouth to protest but Y/N came forth shaking her head.

“You are our backup, America. If anything were to happen to us and Wanda…” Y/N stated dropping her gaze for a moment, she turned to you until finally she locked eyes with America. “You need to do anything you can to ensure Agatha won’t scape, you understand?”

America pursed her lips, a part of her understood the mission but another part wanted to go straight ahead and face the woman that had been chasing her through the multiverse. America clenched her fists before nodding curtly and stepping back. You offered a single smile, your hand squeezing comfortingly the shoulder of the teen.

“There would be time, America, for now just watch our backs.”

“I will.”

“Good then, let’s go.”

You nodded curtly allowing your powers to spread in front of you, there was resistance when trying to reach the shadows and for the very first time you understood what your counterpart meant about your instinct. Everything in your body was screaming danger as soon as you came into contact with the shadows, your body shivered under the piercing weight of a million needles. You clenched your jaw closed stepping into the shadows with a single thought in mind.

Wanda.

Without any hesitation and moving through the invisible obstacles in that universe you appeared right before Wanda and Agatha just in time. Your eyes went black with your right arm lifting in front of you and creating a protective barrier just as Agatha’s hand came into contact with your shadows.

There was a flickering of power, the older woman snarled a curse lifting her left arm in the same fashion and launching a second attack. Your eyes opened slightly only for your shadows to slithered away grabbing the woman’s midsection to pull her away.

The world crumbled for an instant; Agatha was completely shocked to see not only you but your counterpart standing right in front of her. The woman straightened up, sweat rolling down her forehead while her right hand closed around her necklace and her other hand summoned the Darkhold.

“You really are a pain in my behind, but at least I won’t have to go around looking for you.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, her annoyance giving way to a confident smile. “Now, how about the two of you are good girls and give up, I would hate to spend my time submitting you to get what I want.”

You spread your feet positioning yourself in a fighting pose, your eyes narrowing slightly while the woman in front of you got her magic ready. But before Agatha could do anything at all, another set of shadows grabbed her arms putting them back making her woman lose her grip on the necklace and the Darkhold, your body tensed when Wanda stood up behind you, her voice quivering slightly as she pronounced your name with reverence and love.

“Hey, I hope you didn’t forget about me, Agatha dear.” Your counterpart said winking at Wanda while flickering her hands away, Agatha grunted freeing herself with a blast of energy and stepping a few feet away.

“Hn, I didn’t expect this.” She stated summoning the Darkhold, the world around the four of you changed, shaping itself in a familiar setting you had come to hate in your mind.

Westview.

Agatha never wavered in her confidence, if anything it seemed to grow the same way her magic was doing at the moment. You took a fighting stance, your shadows flickering around waiting for your command. You glanced out of the corner of your eye, Wanda had been trying to stand up but her knees and feet seemed uncooperative. Before you could offer any help, your counterpart came in wrapping her arms around Wanda while placing her forehead against Wanda’s one.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi.” Wanda replied with easiness, Y/N sighed in relief before placing a single kiss on her wife’s cheek.

“I miss you.” Y/N said softly, your heart shrank with emotion when your mind caught up with what was really happening.

You furrowed your brows, sweeping around the place until your darkened eyes fell on Agatha who was smiling playfully at you, her right hand playing absentmindedly with the necklace.

“Where is…Wanda?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda and Y/N both glanced at one another before they set their eyes on you.

A sinking feeling settled on your lower stomach, you were afraid of the answer when you realized this Wanda was trying to look everywhere but you. Tilting your head, you finally got a good look at your surroundings where the suburban houses filled out the imaginary world; the Wanda you had come to know from another universe held onto your counterpart tightly though right now her green eyes had been focusing straight ahead of you.

“Where is she? Wanda?” You asked again, this time around there was a demanding undertone that the other woman couldn’t ignore.

“Agatha has them under her control, she is using a powerful and dangerous book, Y/N.” Wanda could tell her answer was not of your liking, she stepped forward ready to join you and her wife in the fight glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes.

“You don’t know where she has Wanda?” You asked again never taking your eyes off of the older woman standing before you.

“I have my suspicions but I’m not sure how to interfere with that.” Wanda winced trying to ease out the pain on her neck, you frowned pursing your lips while taking a closer look at Agatha before your eyes found the same house you had come to know as Wanda’s place.

“Well, then let’s get this over with and get Wanda back.” Your arms stretched to the sides, the silent command spurred into action the shadows around you flying straight ahead to try and get Agatha.

Before your counterpart and the other Wanda could help you out, the creatures summoned by Agatha launched their first attack. A great explosion was heard while you evaded the flashing balls of power sent over by the witch.

The fight soon broke over, you didn’t notice it but the dome surrounding this part of the universe tremble sending waves of energy all through the world until they came into contact with the timeline and America. The young woman lifted her head, her eyes gleaming brightly as she tapped into her powers; bouncing on the balls of her feet she waited. America could hear the sound of explosions and the muffled sound of conversations and screams, she glanced at her hands thinking about the lessons she had been learning in the last couple of months. She closed her fists, opening them again before lifting her face. This people had been putting their lives on the line for her, they had been trying to protect her without expecting anything in exchanged. It was about time she helped them.

With a glance to the sky, America took a deep breath closing her eyes for a brief moment. As soon as she opened them, her lips curled into a single smile.

Time for payback.

The street had been completely destroyed during the fight.

There were no more homes standing up, or nice cosy gardens decorating the suburban setting. The world soon became a mixture of nothingness with the flickering holograms of reality that you could not touch. Agatha had learnt a thing or two since fighting with Wanda, you could see her ability to hold onto her powers while also making use of those she had stolen from your Wanda.

You shook your head hating the thoughts running around in your head, the overwhelming emotions that seemed to try and govern your decisions. You tried to focus your energy on what was right in front of you, the problem you were facing went beyond your own emotions. There would be a time for you to deal with them.

Agatha lifted her left hand above her head before letting it fall fast to her side, the sharp pain of your skin being pierce made you grunted. You could feel the wounds on your arms, your eyes igniting in a deep black that soon went right ahead to engulf the witch in front of you.

At some point, Agatha had become faster than your attacks, she stepped aside flickering her hands and soon two more creatures appeared out of nowhere.

“Is that all you got?” You asked almost losing your concentration when you heard the voice of your counterpart in the back.

“Get away from my wife!”

Agatha smirked grabbing her necklace, tilting her head she settled her eyes on you.

“Oh, dear, you would be surprised with the number of tricks I can bring on you.” Agatha stepped forward, her feet never touching the ground. “I could make your dreams come true; I can be what Wanda never was for you.”

You pressed your lips together taking into a fighting stance.

“You know nothing about my dreams, and I am certainly not looking for a replacement.”

Agatha snorted her hand gripping tightly on the necklace, soon a red mist grew from the space between her neck and chest and the world around her turned crimson. Agatha stretched out her arms and the whole world vibrate around you changing in the blink of an eye.

“Are you sure? I can tell by the pathetic way you are always looking at her, but the way you talk about her that there is nothing else you want more than her…” Agatha’s voice rose above the new scene, your eyes flickered around while your stomach dropped when you realized where she had taken you to.

For a brief moment you could make out the screams and grunts of the fight going on right outside this small world. You took a deep breath trying to get a hold of your powers ignoring the runes glowed above your head a clear sign that this was still being controlled by Agatha. You creased your brows knowing that your options were limited if the other woman decided to use her magic at its full potential. She was playing with you, leading you on and one until it was quite clear she was mocking you by placing you right in front of a memory that had broken your heart at some point.

It was playing in slow motion, the video and the room with everyone just as shocked as you were to see Wanda in the arm’s of another. The passing of time, every single moment that you had suffered the betrayal while facing your sadness alone in a world of pure darkness. Your fit closed, the shadows on your feet stirred violently sensing your anger when you heard Agatha laughing. Mocking you.

“How did it make you feel knowing she was happier with a man?” Agatha purred making sure to be as far away from you as she could. “How did it feel knowing you were never going to be chosen in this world? In this universe? I bet it pierce your soul knowing you were the one destined to be alone.”

“Shut up.”

“I can make it go away, I can help you out…say the words, and I will make sure you get what you want.”

Your knees gave under your weight, furrowing your brows you tried to close yourself to the mocking film playing around you trying to focus on the fight. Agatha chuckled tilting her head, this time around the runes above her head pulsated and the two creatures grew before your eyes attacking viciously at your counterpart and Wanda making sure that your conversation and fight with Agatha wouldn’t be interrupted. Agatha centred her eyes on you, her hand grabbing the necklace while the same video seemed to be on replay.

“She won’t be a problem for you anymore, and after I’m done with you…you won’t have to worry about the pain of your broken heart, dear.” The laughter sent shivers down your back, but it was everything you were waiting for.

Your lips curled into a smile, your right hand twirled clockwise and the shadows broke into waves catching up with the witch. Just as you had located her, ready to give her a lesson, the woman was ready to use the magic Wanda and Scarlet were giving to her to make sure the next stage of her plan could be completed.

It never happened, though.

Your attack never stopped reaching out to your objective, while Agatha tried to return the hit she was surprised by a sudden punch to her face. The punch glow white, and her body bounced back and forth until she lost the hold on the necklace, America Chavez didn’t stop there and your shadows went straight to hold onto the witch to bring her down.

Everything happened so fast, your eyes went from America to Agatha and finally to the object on the ground. The necklace bounced on the ground, and without thinking too much you went right ahead to grab it. The object was warm to the touch, you could tell by the vibrations that magic had been contained between the object and this magic could only belong to one person. You closed your hand around it, you could sense Scarlet deep inside your mind. It didn’t take you too long to recognize the woman that had been haunting your dreams as of late, right with her you could also sense Wanda trying to hide, trying to survive.

“NO!”

The scream coming from Agatha was everything you needed to drop the necklace and stomp on the piece of jewellery creating an explosion that blew you and everyone around you away.

“Humph…” Your mouth opened letting out a shaky breath, your body hurt all over while your eyes got use to the sparkling lights that appeared before them when your head hit the ground.

“Y/N!!” You tried to sit up, a pair of arms held onto you for a brief moment until you were capable of making out the figure sitting beside you.

America had her brows creased; her eyes shone with worry while she tried to hold you up. The fighting was still ringing inside your ears, your counterpart was finishing the last of the dimensional creatures while you could spot her Wanda holding back against Agatha. For a brief moment, panic rose inside you the sudden need to throw up became almost to much just as you leaned forward trying to stand up your eyes looking frantically for the women that had been haunting your dreams and reality as of late.

“They are unconscious…” America started but she could not finish her sentence as you stood up without any warning.

“Wanda…” Her name escaped your lips without meaning to, at that moment with your body exhausted and your mind already carrying the weight of so many memories and thoughts all you could do was staggered forward until you reached both women.

You stood on shaky legs glancing from Wanda to Scarlet, both of them unconscious wearing the same bags under their eyes and the bruises all over their faces and arms. You hesitated not really knowing where you should focus your attention until, as an afterthought you went to Wanda. Turning her to the side you ensure she was comfortable, her lip had a deep cut and her forehead had traces of a scratch that left her with blood and dirt. She looked thinner than you remember, with her face wearing still the same defeated expression she wore to your home all those months ago.

“Wanda.” You said her name again, this time around firmer and demanding, your hand trying to help her out until you heard her exclamation of pain. “Wanda, are you alright?”

The young woman stirred in your arms, her eyes flickering slightly until she opened her lips and let out an exclamation of pain. You put her back on the ground, turning around you could see Scarlet was stirring awake as well while the fight seemed to have no end.

“Y/N…” You turned to see Wanda’s eyes fluttering open, her green orbs looking back at you with sadness and tenderness that had your heart beating a tad bit faster.

“Hey, are you alright?” You leaned in but Wanda looked away helping herself up, you tired to assist her but your body froze for a moment unsure on how to proceed with the woman sitting before you.

“I…I am a little sore.” She replied, her eyes never leaving the form of Scarlet, Wanda furrowed her brows glancing at her hands then back at the other woman. “She…she is…Scarlet Witch.”

Her words trembled as she pronounced them, her face lowered thinking to herself knowing full well your attention was on her. She remembered the moment she had separated herself from the legend, the words of Agatha had haunted her at that moment when she realized there was something inside her giving her powers a deeper meaning. She had hated that idea, and the world that had been created out of it.

When Wanda finally dared to look up she found herself looking into your eyes. Her heart stirred with emotion, the words that wanted to pour out of her mouth entangled around her throat for she knew it was not the time for a heart-to-heart conversation. She wished everything had turned out different, but after her confrontation with Agatha and everything she had discovered whiled trapped in that reality she knew what she needed to do.

“Can you…help me up?” She asked shyly, you nodded curtly stretching your hands for her to take them.

She was cold under your touch, and a little sweaty.

Her cheeks coloured pink, and her eyes glanced everywhere but at you. You felt a piercing pain going through your chest, but you ignored it while helping the other woman up. For a brief moment, you thought she could walk on her on until Wanda’s legs trembled and almost gave up on her. You caught her just on time, her body pressing against yours making your traitorous heart stopped for a brief moment.

“How convenient, Wanda.” Scarlet was on her knees; she had sweat falling down her face breathing hard and glaring at the two of you though her eyes were completely focused on Wanda. “You…you don’t do nothing, yet you get to be with her.”

Wanda tensed in your arms, she took a deep breath while pushing you away taking one step at a time until she was standing before Scarlet. You lifted your eyes to see America just as focused on the two women as you were, the sound of the fighting was till rumbling in your ears but it was almost impossible to pay attention to something else that wasn’t the scene playing out in front of you.

Wanda held herself up, conscious of the hatred inside the eyes of Scarlet.

Inside her own eyes.

“We don’t get to be with her.” Wanda mumbled dropping her shoulders, tears gathering in her eyes as she spoke. “I’ve been trying to make amends but I just…”

“You always failed, and you make it worse.” Scarlet spat out lifting her chin in defiance, her position on the ground was not an inconvenience. If anything, it gave her the power that Wanda couldn’t show at the moment.

“I tried to reach out to her, to make her world and mine…to…”

“I know.” Wanda offered a weakened smile, looking out of the corner of her eyes she could see you had your attention on the both of them. “I tried to do the same. I just…I can’t do it alone, and I’m tired of failing every time. I don’t…”

Wanda swallowed down her tears, she leaned in lifting her left hand until she was cupping Scarlet’s cheek. Red mist appeared in Wanda’s hand, and soon her eyes as much as those of Scarlet were shining brightly.

“It hurts so much.” Scarlet said letting the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just…

“I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be without her.” Wanda finally said her own tears falling down her face.

You clenched your jaw, looking away for a moment while your chest felt a myriad of butterflies fluttering inside.

“But I can’t keep fighting alone, or divided.” Wanda stated, she wiped away Scarlet’s tears before adding. “I think we need to be one, you saw just how powerful we are together and…”

“You need to fix this, or we would never…”

“I know, but this may not end the way you want it.”

Scarlet drifted her attention to you, her eyes found those of yours and in there you could read everything you had been so afraid to interpret the first time. There was pain and sadness, emotions that broke into her heart in ways you could only imagine, and then there was love. You looked away stepping back under the intensity of such a stare, you missed the broken smile on Scarlet’s face and the defeat she wore while facing Wanda again.

“I know, I think we will cope when the time for that comes.” Wanda nodded in understanding; her hands gleamed brighter than ever while Scarlet placed her hand on top of hers.

“I promised you I won’t give up.”

“Good, then let’s do this.”

The crimson mist grew around them glowing with a bright, red light making you trembled under the intensity of the magic. You could see America kneeling down, her eyes going wide open as they stare the scene unfolding before her eyes.

Wanda and Scarlet were no longer two different entities.

Standing before you was a single woman, her head was adorned with a red crown that made match with the bodice and the black leggings. Wanda stood there with magic coming from her hands, her eyes a deep shade of red that gathered the power you had always known she had in her. The woman stood still for a moment, she glanced at her body and her hands before her face lifted to stare at you.

You tried to hide your expression, your lips parting to speak but not words came out. Wanda hesitated before nodding her feet moving slowly until she turned around making her way to the fight.

“Is she gonna be okay?” America stood right beside you, squirting at the woman now using her magic to help her counterpart in the fight against Agatha.

“I think so…” You trailed off finally realizing that even though the both of them had finally become one, Wanda was still wearing the bruises and the exhaustion on her face.

“Are you okay?” America asked quite concern, you turned to her offering a half smile.

“I will be.” You sighed scratching the back of your neck. “Stay here and be careful.”

“What are you gonna do?” The teen asked slightly scare, you offered her a half smile turning towards the fight that was a tied between the Wandas and Agatha.

“What we came to do, just stay out of trouble and be ready to help us go back home, okay kiddo?”

America doubt there was anything she could do, but she didn’t contradict you. With a single nodded of her head she watched as you ran towards the fight, your shadows already creating a protective barrier around you and Wanda. Something, America though, you probably were not aware of.

_____________________________________________________________

Loki rolled his eyes once more, he was tired of hearing the fight going on in the meeting room while he stood by the window waiting for the right moment to intervene.

The world outside was highly active, Monday had always been one of the busiest days in the calendar and that day was not the exception. The young god leaned forward, his fingertips touching the window while his eyes observed the golden and green lights of the timelines. His eyes soon fell upon the one he did not recognise, a red line that he could not tamper with but that he was certain contained the answers to the questions everyone in the room were posing.

Loki turned around his eyes finding those of Billy who had not leave his side ever since Pietro brought him into the Avenger’s Tower. The young boy had his eyes narrowed, his hands playing with invisible threats only he could see.

For a brief moment, Loki stood there observing the child with growing curiosity. Billy was tapping the air with his fingertips, concentrated in something only visible to him. Loki frowned with his mind already forming an idea of what exactly was happening.

“Billy, what are you doing?” The question was low enough for the child to hear it but not for the rest of the room to notice it.

Billy lifted his face this time around his eyes went wide opened showing off the innocence of his age, but also the brightness he had inherited from both his mothers.

“Mommy always says to follow my instincts.” There was conviction in his tone, his hands tapping still as if waiting for something.

“And, what are they telling you?” Loki knelt to be on the same height of the child, Billy tilted his head creasing his brows before answering.

“Uncle Loki, momma and mommy need my help…look!”

Loki looked in the direction Billy was pointing to, he gasped with his eyes wide open and a smile forming on his lips.

“Billy you are a genius.” Billy offered a timid smile glancing at Loki shyly.

“Really?”

“Yes, and I think thanks to you we are going to be able to help Wanda and Y/N.” Loki could see the excitement in the little boy, he couldn’t help but smile back.

Without giving to much attention to the room, Loki sat right beside Billy closing his eyes before letting his magic to spread around. Billy was slightly confused at first, he had continued working on invisible threads trying to get into contact with them. Now there was something different, with his uncle sitting beside him Billy could sense the magic. He pressed his lips together before sitting down and, imitating Loki, he closed his eyes and just went with his instincts.

_____________________________________________________________

Whatever power she had tried to drain from Wanda and even Scarlet was no longer active to give her the stamina or even the strength to keep up with the fight. She was not even up to sustain the world she had created by tampering on the Chaos magic she could barely tolerate.

Wanda Maximoff gathered her power while circling the woman in front of her, she could feel the hurt she had created for her counterpart had reached out beyond the boundaries of the multiverse and it was something she would not tolerate. Beside her she could sense Y/N, a close shadow that was ready to jump in when necessary to offer protection and support; Wanda couldn’t help but smile.

“You won’t win.” Agatha tried to put up with a fight, she tried to hold onto the last threads of power inside her to get into the fight but she could no longer hold onto her powers for far too long.

You came from behind her your hands wrapping around her wrists while your shadows covered her feet spreading through her legs and body. Agatha was struggling, her eyes going wide open just as she started chanting in a language you did not recognize. Wanda opened her eyes wide, she stepped closer spreading her arms and chanting just the same, the runes trembling right above your head just before a myriad of images surrounded you breaking the darkness before going completely white.

“NO!” Agatha let out a guttural exclamation, her elbow hitting you square in the face but whatever strength she had in her to fight was haltered by your counterpart finishing what you started.

Wanda knew at that moment why she had been feared by Agatha, the power that was held inside her sent electric waves through her body. The power concentrated on her hand, and soon a single jewel showed on her palm while her counterpart continued with the ritual. The runes appeared right above her head, and without any indications, she started chanting as well.

You stepped back falling on your ass, blood rolling down your nose just as you saw the black figured being swallowed by the jewel. There was a moment of flickering lights and then, it stopped. Both Wanda’s stood right in front of the other, the jewel resting comfortably on the hand of Y/N’s wife.

The jewel took into a purplish colour, falling to the ground with a single thump.

The world went silent.

The darkness around you grew, with the stars twinkling right above your head.

Everything was still, with only your hard breathing breaking the tension around your ears. Your body was aching, your mind filled with memories of the past and the present all of them pilling up to overwhelmed you line of thoughts. You closed your eyes trying to forget and wait for everything to be back the way it was in the last year.

But you knew it was just an illusion.

Your world had been shaken up the moment Wanda and America showed up at your doorstep. The fight with Agatha brought back the memories you had tried to forget, it brought with it the truths you were not ready to face. You had always thought that you could outrun your motions, but the world has always taught you this was not possible. Not for someone like you, and certainly not for someone like Wanda.

When you opened your eyes you saw Wanda, your Wanda staring at you, but before anything could be done or said her eyes rolled back passing out of exhaustion. You caught up to her on time, her body falling on yours your face a mask of pure concern just as you ensure she rested comfortably on the ground.

You knew everyone was looking at you, but you decided to ignore them while checking Wanda over to make sure nothing else happened to her.

“Are you alright?” The other Wanda came to you, her voice sent shivers down your back, you didn’t dare to lift your eyes for fear of revealing far too much.

Instead, you nodded taking deep breaths while feeling the ground under your knees, without thinking too much about it, your hand brushed Wanda’s hair tenderly. The attention you were giving to her was something you never thought you would do again. The woman standing beside you shifted her weight and soon she was sitting right beside you; this time around you did turn around only to see her staring at you with big, curious eyes.

“She is still unconscious, but I believe she is no longer two halves of the same person.” Wanda lifted her face to the sky, her lips parting slightly. “Her magic is still erratic, but I believe she would be okay.”

“What about Agatha?” Your question entangled in your throat, scrunching up your nose you decided to conceal your emotions not ready to face the conversation or to address the white elephant hanging around you two.

“She will be trapped in this jewel until you and her decided what should be done with her.” Wanda handed over the jewel, you pursed your lips in disgust before grabbing the artifact.

“The book she had with her, it is the Darkhold, isn’t it?”

“It is.” You nodded this time around locking your eyes with hers.

“Are you taking it with you?”

Wanda broke into an easy smile shaking her head, “it’s not mine but yours. It would be better off in your world, where it belongs.”

“It should be destroyed.” You leaned back resting your hands on the ground.

“It should, but that would be your prerogative not ours.”

Your eyes drifted around the place before they settled on America and Y/N, both of them were engaged in a heavy discussion and you could teel this was the moment America had been waiting for a very long time. The feelings of guiltiness and sadness had been quite evident in her when you two met, right now this was the chance the young woman was waiting for to make amends. To reach for forgiveness.

“So, any idea how we are going to leave this place?”

Wanda nodded leaning back until she pointed to America and your counterpart.

“She is ready to use her powers, I believe she is the only one that can help us right now.”

Not sooner had Wanda said this the world started to tremble, the light of the stars flickered until they disappeared one by one. You straightened up with Wanda standing up as soon as she noticed this.

“I guess…we should try it right now.” You stood up turning to glance at the darkened world, everything was coming in and out of reality with the ground shaking for small periods of time.

“It was a matter of time.” Wanda placed a hand on your forearm, you couldn’t help the tension on your muscles the other woman softened her features stepping closer. “You will be back, and she will need help to recover from this.”

“I know.”

“Are you ready for that?” The question caught you off guard, you knew what was expected of you and what you could do with the woman that had broken your heart at some point.

You could hide behind that excuse until the end of time, but it would run out of any validity at some point. Sooner or later, you knew you would have to face Wanda and decisions must be made. The Wanda standing before you softened her features, her words would made your mind pound with the imminent decisions you would need to make.

“How deep is your anger, and how deep goes your love for you to not face what your heart already knows?” Wanda leaned in and you found yourself in a embrace you didn’t know you miss. Her voice was just a whisper, but it was everything you needed at the moment. “I won’t tell you what to do, but I will tell you my love to follow your instincts. They had never failed you.”

America glanced around the group with a nervous smile.

She glanced at her hands then back at you and Y/N, the words of encouragement were ringing inside her head while she tried to gather the courage to move onto the next step.

“Just think about it, kiddo.” Y/N stated grabbing the hand of her wife, America almost winced at those words because her mind had been a myriad of thoughts since they delegate the task of going back home on her.

You fixed the unconscious woman in your arms, putting her closer to you while looking over at America. The young woman closed her eyes, ready to open the portal when Wanda stopped her.

“Wait, America.” The redhead stepped closer placing her hand on America’s shoulder. “Remember, it is more than opening a portal, is about opening the right one.”

“I know, I know…it’s just…easier said than done.” America pursed her lips, she took a deep breath closing her eyes.

“Then, let yourself be guided by your emotions and what you remember of the place you want to go to.” Wanda squeezed the shoulder of the teen tenderly, and for that brief moment America felt it.

It was vague but it was there.

The same kind of energy she had felt on Wanda and Y/N, it was familiar yet different. She had felt it when she first fell upon that universe, the twins had carried with them a strange kind of energy that seemed to engulf the best of Wanda and Y/N.

America closed her eyes and, without thinking to much, she followed the familiarity of that energy. Her mind bringing over the memories of her time in that land, finally easing out her fears and trusting in the women she had surrounding her.

The young woman clenched her fist, and with a single punch she opened the star-shaped portal.

All of them were ready to go home.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

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