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slutforstabbings-archive · 9 months

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Clean Again

Chapter 13: LONGEST DAY OF THE YEAR read on AO3 | previous chapter | tumblr chapter index make sure to check AO3 for this fic's playlist and other extras! there is also a (smutty) deleted chapter that was replaced by this chapter that can be read on tumblr and AO3 The Annual Plymouth Records Summer Solstice Bonfire general warnings for this fic - angst, fluff, smut (MDNI), canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore contents/warnings for this chapter - drug and alcohol consumption, angst, mentions of abuse 5,115 words @rebel-blue @heartrot666, @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @toxicanonymity @multifandom--mess @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @yllcm @ethanhoewke

Corey snaps the headphone jack spooling from the cassette converter into his phone. It was your idea for him to be the DJ, to help him relax on the long drive to Gordon’s uncle’s house. He appreciates the suggestion, but it isn’t helping him at all. He struggles to make it more than 45 seconds into a song without skipping it. They all feel wrong, everything feels wrong. Every fiber of his being is screaming that this is a very fucking bad idea. His hands tremble as he taps skip over and over.

You put a sympathetic hand on his thigh when the tight turns in the narrow country lanes don’t call for both of them to grip the wheel. When you brought the bonfire up a few days after Rose spilled the beans, you told him you knew the party was exactly the kind of thing he despised, that you weren’t going to ask him to come. Your intentions were to just tell him you had to go, and let him make his own choice to ask to come if he wanted. He was relieved, and thankful that you weren’t going to make him say no directly. Until you delivered your Final Smash. I’ve already accepted I’ll just have to miss you the whole time. Game fucking over. Corey misses you constantly when you’re not around. He feels pathetic, but he misses you when you’re in the next room. He assumed you’d miss him if he was gone forever, and hopes you miss him during the three days apart you maintain less and less consistently. He never dreamed that you would miss him for one single day, surrounded by other people. He texted Will the moment you left the room, before he could come to his senses.

Eventually he gives up on DJ duties, turning the radio off to focus on the rumble of the road and the rattle and slosh of the coolers weighing down the trunk. He fights the urge to ask you how many people will be there, a third time. You haven’t given him an answer he can work with. Not that many people during the day, just all the employees and their partners or whoever their guests are. That doesn’t sound like not that many people to Corey. That sounds like a lot of fucking people. He can think of at least six of your coworkers by name, plus your boss and his wife and at least one kid. He’s never around that many people at once. He runs his errands at midnight to make sure he’s never around that many people. When it gets closer to sunset, we build the fire up bigger, and that’s when everybody shows up. Everybody! How many people is everybody? On top of the everybody already there.

When you arrive there are several cars and trucks parked in the grass away from the house. He doesn’t recognize Veronica’s Jetta among them. He isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or worse. She may be the harbinger of his demise, but she’s also one of the only people who will be here that he’s met. On this night, if not any other, she’s an enemy he might prefer to keep closer. He wishes he knew what Rose drives.

“We can sit here for a minute if you want,” you tell him as you put the car in park. “As long as you need to.”

Corey is deeply grateful for the way you try to anticipate his needs, but no amount of sitting in the car will prepare him for what he's about to endure.

“Let’s just go,” he says.

You hold his hand as you walk across the yard. You stop at the top of the step to give him a kiss before you let yourself in the front door. The entrance to the house is insane, the whole foyer open to a loft above. A drippy chandelier dangles down in the center. The massive first floor is empty, except for a commotion in the kitchen. Several people all lean against the kitchen counter in a big circle, talking and laughing, already a couple beers in. You recruit a few helpers to carry your coolers to the back yard. So many of them come out to your car that Corey ends up empty handed. He doesn’t know what else to do, so he stays close to your heels like a shadow, right behind you as you make your rounds to say hi to everyone, present Drew with your contributions for the barbecue, and finally settle in a lawn chair in front of the unlit pile of wood set to become tonight’s fire.

He pulls another chair as close as he can to yours, so your toes and elbows touch. He can’t help but bounce his leg, even as he worries it makes him more conspicuous. He knows he sticks out like a sore thumb among all these cool people. They’re all dressed like they got a memo he missed, in black shorts that used to be pants and black band shirts that used to have sleeves. Corey feels out of place and overdressed. He should’ve asked you to pick his outfit or something. Now everyone he meets tonight will remember him as the guy who was dressed like he was at work. Even his boots are wrong, Red Wings when everyone else is in Docs and Timbs and cowboy boots.

More people arrive, entering the backyard in small groups. A couple of guys lumber onto the back porch with big speakers on stands. Veronica appears with three beers in hand, announcing herself with the same lilting “Hey y’all!” as she did at Krelborn’s. Corey wouldn’t trust the bottle she holds out to him if she hadn’t popped the cap right in front of him, but now that she’s here, he does feel a small sense of relief. She wanders away when Shelly comes into the yard. You wave from where you’re seated and Corey’s thankful you don’t make him choose between sitting by himself and trying to fit into that conversation. He doesn’t remember her from the pub until you mention it. Then a hazy vision of her setting water in front of him surfaces. You look like you could use that, she said. A burst of static erupts from the speakers, causing everyone around to jump. A man sticks his head out the window and shouts “Sorry, y’all!” Then music flows from the speakers, starting small but growing quickly as the man inside adjusts the volume.

“Country music?” Corey asks, leaning even closer into you.

“Don’t judge,” you say. You sound like you have to defend country music often.

“Never. I’m just surprised. Just cause everybody here is…” He shrugs. You know what he means.

“Well you are in Georgia. Rednecks and punks have a lot of overlap around here.” You gesture around the yard, indicating everyone in attendance. “There’s even a whole country-slash-punk crossover genre I should introduce you to.”

“I’ve listened to country music, some. My dad liked Merle Haggard. I found some of his tapes, when I found the ring.”

For some reason Daddy is the one thing from his past Corey tells you about without hesitation, even as anxious as he is right now. He just finds himself spontaneously telling you the few other facts he knows about his father. He informed you that the ring had been Dad’s the first time you laced your fingers with his in the flickering light of the grocery store late at night, telling you how he hadn’t taken it off since he found it, but that he did have to move it from his middle finger to his pinky at some point. Last time you said something about wanting another tattoo, he confessed his desire for one of a duck like Daddy had.

“That’s so awesome. Merle is one of the all time greats. I love hearing Dad Facts.”

Veronica and Shelly drag more plastic chairs over. People join and leave your little group so quickly it makes Corey dizzy. Rose sits next to him and tells him she’s glad he decided to come. Her girlfriend and Shelly’s boyfriend both pass through. One of them is Jesse and one of them is Bobby, but he doesn’t know which is which. Someone you introduce as your first sewing customer shows him all the patches you attached to their vest. Current and former coworkers appear to wrap their arms around your waist and smack their lips against your face before vanishing again. It makes his stomach sour. Do they all have to fucking hug you? He feels a little better when you give your chair up to a new addition to the circle and perch on his knees instead, draping an arm around his shoulders and fluffing his hair. He’s reluctant to let you go when your old seat is free again.

In time the circle is reduced to just you, Corey, and Veronica. In front of him, several partygoers attempt to get the fire started. They aren’t using enough kindling, and it isn’t getting enough airflow when they set the big log on top, so they just keep snuffing out the whole thing. He could help, but he’s already spoken to multiple years worth of people this afternoon, and he knows the end is nowhere in sight.

A long chord organ chord pours out of the speakers, met by a cheer from all corners of the yard. You hold your hands out to Veronica and start singing. She takes them, singing back to you, a huge grin on her face. The lyrics you belt into each other’s faces are about a pair of high school friends. It irks Corey how long she’s been in your life, that if you had to choose between them, she has a massive amount of seniority in her favor. She’s been through everything with you. He’s just another thing you’ll get through with her help.

The instrumental picks up and you pull Veronica out of her chair to dance. The song isn’t just about high school friends. The song is about two women murdering one of their exes. It didn’t take them long to decide that Earl had to die!, you and Veronica and all the other guests shout. You hook your elbow with hers and the two of you skip circles around each other like children, gleefully detailing poisoning a man’s dinner and wrapping his corpse in plastic. The case goes cold, the women start a business together, and they don’t lose any sleep at night after they toss the body in a lake.

The man in the song was a violent abuser. He beat his wife, so she killed him. Corey can relate to the protagonists. People like that are vermin to be exterminated. Everyone he killed on purpose had beaten him, verbally if not physically. The last time Momma slapped him she didn’t leave a mark, but other times she had. Fucking Doug had knocked the air out of his lungs on the Allen’s front lawn. Corey’s blood still boils knowing he doesn’t know the half of what that shit stain put Allyson through. So he enjoyed the killing. It was fun. Even more fun than the song makes it sound. Under other circumstances this might be a new favorite of his, prompting him to ask you for recommendations of similar songs, a playlist of jaunty tunes about the consequences of being scum. There’s just one problem — Veronica.

Could be it’s only his imagination, being on the run so long causing his already weak ability to trust to rot and wither past the point of no return. But he swears as she sings, she makes meaningful eye contact with him. Over your shoulder her glare says Watch your step, motherfucker. This song could easily be about you. It doesn’t matter that all of the lives he ended were Earls. People who had to die for what they’d done to others. Because he knows she’ll think what he’s done is worse. Stabbing someone with a corkscrew or a kitchen knife is worse. Setting someone on fire is worse. Poisoning someone isn’t that bad. Stomping someone’s skull in and driving over their corpse is much, much worse. He generated just as much evil as he extinguished, and should Veronica ever find out, it won’t take her long to decide that Corey has to die too.

The only reason he’s here right now is because you said you would miss him if he wasn’t. How could that possibly be true? Your friends love you so much, and you have so many of them. What do you need him for? The yard and the house are full of people more eligible than him, people who understand your hobbies better than he ever could, who know how to act at parties, who aren’t endangering your life and their own every moment they spend with you. You’re all Corey has in the entire world. When Veronica sprinkles the poison over his food, you’ll have him replaced with one of those assholes who lined up to hug you before his body is even cold.

He wishes again that there was a way to have you all to himself. If he was all you had then it would be fair. He could mean to you what you mean to him. You would have no choice but to miss him. You and Veronica are still dancing, shrieking the lyrics to another crowd pleaser he’s never heard before. The day is scorching. It already feels like he’s burning through the sunscreen you smeared all over him before the drive out here, and you’re dancing, with only a rag that barely qualifies as a tank top to cover your sports bra, skin sparkly with sweat, 10 feet in front of him. That is what he should be focusing on. Not doing mental inventory of the weapons he’s seen so far — a pile of sharp grilling utensils next to the smoker, shovel, rake, and pitchfork lying in the grass beside the idiots who still can’t get the fire to light right, the knife he gave you, clipped to your pocket as you swing the hips he’s trying so hard to think about instead.

Corey’s major concern earlier in the afternoon had been someone recognizing him for something he had done before. If he doesn’t get the fuck out of here right now, he fears he’ll do something new for people to recognize him for.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The fifteen minutes Corey was gone to smoke the night he met V was nothing. He is the king of the long smoke break. His face is so expressive, sometimes you feel like you’re eavesdropping on his thoughts, but if you’re ever left wondering what kind of mood he’s in, all you have to do is time his absence.

The bonfire is such an event, you can barely believe he agreed to come. When he whispers in your ear that he’s going to step away to smoke, despite the fact that he is already outside and a respectful distance from everyone but you, you know he’s going to be gone for a long time.

You have another beer. A joint is miraculously placed between your fingers and you take two puffs before you hold it out for someone, anyone else to take. Your sense of time warps, and you wish you looked at the clock when he left. You keep thinking you’ll give him five more minutes, until you notice how much the sun has moved. He’s definitely been gone too long. You drop your eyes from the sky to scan the yard, making sure he isn’t just sitting off to the side in the shadows of the trees, or stuck talking to some verbose asshole and waiting for you to come save him. You don’t see him anywhere.

“Haven’t seen Corey in a minute,” Veronica says, following your gaze.

“Yeah…” You send him a text.

To give him time to text you back, you go get water out of one of the many coolers on the deck. You grab two bottles and dry them with paper towels from the snack table, sliding a bowl of watermelon cubes out of your way.

“Hey, cutie,” says a man pouring Doritos onto a paper plate.

You ignore him.

“Hey! I’m talking to you,” he says, waving orange dusted fingers in your face.

“I have a boyfriend.” You don’t look at the man as you drop the wet paper towels into the garbage bag tied to the deck rail.

“Yeah, I saw you with that guy earlier. He looks like a whimp. Don’t you wanna be with a real man?”

“Sure, I do!” You say, in a fake chipper tone, finally looking at him. “But you know, I just don’t see any around here.” You tuck the water bottles under one arm and stomp off the deck before he can say anything else.

Corey still hasn’t answered, so you send him another message as you walk back to Veronica.

“Ugh, some sleazeball tried to talk to me,” you tell her, bumping the backrest of her chair with your stomach.

“Are you good?” She asks, looking back and up at you.

“I’m okay. Be better if I knew where my boyfriend was. I’m gonna go look for him. If you see him, tell him to text me.”

“You got it,” she says.

You start in the front yard. As you walk past the front porch, three overlapping voices call your name. On the swing you can make out three familiar faces. You wave and keep walking but they beckon you, chanting “Come here! Come here!”, and pretending to fish for you. You feel pulled in the opposite direction, down and over the wide yard, but you allow yourself to be caught and reeled in. You do “Hi” and “How are you?”, but when one of them asks what you’ve been up to lately, you cut the long hello short as gracefully as you can.

“Are you gonna be here all night? I would really love to catch up later! I’m actually looking for someone right now, though.” You start to slowly back away as you speak.

“Aw, okay.” “Hope you find them!” “Good luck!”

When you turn away from the porch, you see a pod of people coming up the slope from the direction of the cars. You wave to them, and they wave to you, and you hope that’s that. But a guy you recognize and a girl you don’t wander off the driveway to intercept your path.

“Hey! I have a sewing question!” He declares as he jogs towards you.

“How can I help?” You smile your customer service smile, feeling obligated not to piss off a potential customer.

“I’m thinking about buying a machine to try to make some of my own clothes. Do you have any suggestions or advice or anything?” He asks.

“No, I’m sorry. I hadn’t even like, totally decided I wanted a sewing machine when I bought mine. I didn’t do any research or anything, it was just an expensive machine that was basically new and dirt cheap at an estate sale. And it’s not designed that great, I don’t know if I would’ve bought it if I read reviews first. I had to have my boyfriend clean it out once when it jammed.”

“Damn. Okay. Thanks anyway, dude.” He holds out his hand and you allow him to do some kind of secret fist bump handshake to you.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Sorry I can’t be more help. But speaking of my boyfriend, I’m looking for him right now. Did you see a guy that’s like 5’9”, broad shoulders, curly, shaggy brown hair down there? He’s got like, Midwest Emo vibes, kinda?”

“Can’t say I did.”

“Alright,” you sigh, “Good luck with your sewing if I don’t see you later.”

If he didn’t spot Corey down by the cars, there’s no reason to walk all the way down there, so you cut across the yard toward the pond and the gazebo instead, looking over your shoulder to the cars at the edge of the yard anyway, just in case.

A few people sit in lawn chairs under the scattered trees. Thankfully none of them call out to you. There are no bodies on the benches around the koi pond, but there are silhouettes in the gazebo. As you approach, you can tell none of the shapes belong to Corey. Instead, it’s Gordon and his family. You recognize his wife from other work events. You’ve never met the person on the other side of Gordon, but you recognize her too. A young woman in her late teens or early twenties, who looks like someone put a girl filter on Gordon’s senior photo. There’s no one else in the world who’s daughter she could be. Despite how excited you are to finally meet her, you try to back away before you’re spotted. You can talk to them after you find Corey.

"Hey you!" Gordon says from the shadows. Shit.

"Hey!” You climb the two little steps to join them under the pointed roof.

"Got another customer complaint about you."

You feel like the air has been knocked out of you. Another? What was the first one? What could you have possibly done that was complaint worthy? A weak "huh?" is all you manage.

"Yeah, this lady said she was looking for a record for her little sister, she wanted a recommendation based on a list of bands she knew her sister liked."

"I thought that went well?" You remember the interaction now. It had been a lot of fun, the kind of day where you really appreciate how cool your job is. You can't possibly imagine what she would've had to complain about.

"Well, so did she! She called the store and went on and on, talked my ear off about how her sister loved your suggestion so much that they're going to see the band you recommended in Orlando next month. She said you're a genius, and it was great how you didn't judge her for not knowing anything."

"Wait," you said, concerned and confused, "so what was the complaint?"

"That you're too fucking good at your job, and I'm gonna have to give you a raise. Oh shit, did I say that was her complaint? Sorry, I meant my complaint."

You exhale sharply, ending in a huffy little laugh. All you can think to say is “How much?”

“We’ll talk about it next week.”

"You're such a dick, Dad. You actually had her scared," his daughter chides.

“Have you met my lovely daughter, Dani?” Gordon asks.

“Hi, Dani.” You wave and introduce yourself.

“Do you have someone for us to meet tonight too? That elusive boyfriend of yours, maybe?” Gordon wants to know.

“He’s here, but you’re right about him being elusive,” you say with a forced chuckle. “I’m looking for him right now.”

“Well, don’t let us keep you. But bring him to meet me when you get a chance.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

Once you’re away from the gazebo, you walk as fast as you can towards the house, not even really processing that you’re getting a raise. Gordon’s joke wouldn’t bother you normally, you know your boss is one of those nice assholes. When he doesn’t make jokes at your expense is when you need to worry. Taking it the wrong way rattles you. Corey still hasn’t texted, so you try calling him. It goes straight to voicemail. Goddamnit.

You vault the concrete stairs up to the porch and swing open the front door, getting blasted in the face by the music pouring through the speakers in the ceiling throughout the first floor. The sun is sinking lower in the sky, and the crowd has grown a lot. You get stuck in a traffic jam in the sitting room, pinned on all sides by the bare limbs of strangers. Through the open French doors you can see someone finally got the fire to burn tall and strong, and a new supply of logs has arrived in the back of Harker’s goofy white pickup truck. For a second you feel like you should give up on searching the house for him and go through those French doors to where Corey’s surely tending the fire, finding a way to be useful like he loves to do. Your little arsonist.

Something clicks into place for the first time. The story about his neighbor’s garage. Was that another coded confession? Are the “bullet holes” in his shoulder actually burn scars? Was he stabbed in retaliation for a fire? Did he set a fire in retaliation for being stabbed?

Finally somebody gets out of the way, and the tangle of bodies you’re trapped in spits you out. You stumble over your own heavy feet, taking several bumbling steps away from the doors, and away from that train of thought. Later tonight you can match up all the evidence like you have with your other theories, trying to find the situation that seems most likely. For now, it will only distract you, when you need to focus searching the house. Maybe he found an unlocked bedroom to hide in, or maybe, against the odds, he made a new friend and they’re holed up somewhere discussing fuel pumps or something.

You kind of remember the layout of the house from last year’s bonfire and the holiday dinner in December. You head towards the kitchen, and get tangled up again before you can even cross the threshold. As you pass through the kitchen on your way to the garage, a girl standing in front of the fridge mistakes that for your destination, and yanks the door open wide for you, blocking the exit. When she realizes her mistake, she swings the fridge door closed harder than she meant to and it slams closed. She squeaks out an apology, face turning bright red, and you assure her there’s nothing to be embarrassed about as you edge past her. In the garage, five or six people stand in a circle, pocket knives poised to puncture horizontal beer cans in their hands. They offer for you to join them in their impending shotgun, but you decline and duck back into the house.

You cut through the dining room and run up the stairs. The second floor is comparatively much more quiet, even with the big hole looking down to the first floor. Soft voices guide you out to the huge balcony that floats over the portico below. The people on the chairs and benches outside are all strangers. They ignore you. When you come back in to the loft you spot Veronica with a couple of people across the opening to the foyer below, racking pool balls.

“Wanna get in on this?” She asks, removing the plastic triangle from the balls and hanging it back on the wall.

“No, thanks. I still have bruises healing on my ass from how hard you kicked it last time. And I’m still — “

“Looking for Corey? You haven’t found him yet?”

“No! I keep getting sucked into conversations and shit. Have you seen him?” You don’t like the desperate edge in your voice.

“No.”

Fuck. If she hasn’t seen him, then he probably didn’t help get the fire going. You’re starting to worry he might’ve wandered down one of the trails into the trees and lost his way or something. You excuse yourself and Veronica wishes you luck, twisting chalk onto the end of a pool cue. You wander down the long hallway that branches off the loft. Unlocked bedroom, empty. Locked door you remember leading to a bathroom. You knock and the voice that calls back “Occupied!” is too light to be him, not enough grit. Another empty unlocked bedroom. A couple of locked doors, and a third bedroom at the end of the hall where you stop to send him another text.

You barrel back down the stairs, checking the rest of the first floor as quickly as you can, just glancing into the open doors of another bathroom and an office where someone cuts lines on the glass topped desk. The last room to check is the laundry room where several people sit on the counter over the washer and dryer, Rose and Jesse squeezed in with them.

“Hello my love!” Rose exclaims and hops down from her perch to wrap her arms around you. It only takes one sentence for you to tell that she is very drunk.

“Have you seen Corey?” You ask without much hope.

“When we got here, yeah!” She nods.

“Have you seen him since then?” You always hate when you see a drunk girl’s less-drunk friends be condescending to her, so you do your best to keep the anxiety and irritation out of your voice.

“Noooo.” She shakes her head. The long, low sound she makes reminds you of a dove.

“That dude we met with you earlier? We saw him again after that,” Jesse says.

“Oh, yeah!” Rose confirms.

“Where!? When!?”

“We had to get bug spray out of Jesse’s truck before we went for a hike. He was laying all the way back in your car. I wanted to wave but he looked like he wanted to be left alone.”

“How long ago?”

Rose looks to Jesse.

“Like, 20 minutes ago?”

“Fuck, I’m so stupid,” you mutter. That should’ve been the first place you looked, somewhere hidden and familiar he could retreat to. You should’ve been more thorough than just asking someone and taking a quick glance. If Corey’s been reclining in the car this whole time, he would’ve been practically invisible unless you passed right by the windows.

“You're not stupid. You're so smart,” Rose corrects. “Do you want me to come with you to get him?”

“No, I need to go by myself. You stay here. And drink some water.” You offer her one of the bottles you’re still carrying around.

“I got her,” Jesse says and indicates a half full bottle she pinches between her knees.

As soon as you pry Rose's rubbery drunk arms from around you, you rush out the front door and over the yard to the treeline where your car is parked.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #halloween ends #fan fic #mine

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whats-wild-to-you · 1 year

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Abandoned (Jay Park AU)

*Bonus Chapter*

[Sophia's POV]

The continuous beeping of the monitors filled my ears and kept me alert. Three more patients, hurt in a multi car crash arrived and I ushered the paramedics to where the available beds were. At that point I had lost track of time. It must've been close to 24 hours since I started my shift.

"Dr. Kim, what are we doing with those?" A nurse called from across the room.

"Get them to CT and if nothing shows up, discharge them."

The phone rang and a colloeague standing nearby answered.

"We're getting four more patients!"

"We don't have any more free beds, tell them we cant't treat them!"

"Aparently they're hurt badly and can't be taken anywhere else." My colleague said apologetically.

"Ok, fine! Check beds 3 and 4. They should be stable enough to be taken to their rooms."

My colleague nodded and went to work. In the meantime I checked on two more patients. I felt a headache coming on and told a nurse to get me some aspirin.

"Wouldn't it be better if you laid down for a bit? There are enough doctors here!"

Since I came back from Seoul, I threw myself into work, basically lived in the hospital. I had told myself it was because I was feeling bad about abandoning my colleagues in time of need. In actuality I just needed a distraction. Whenever I was alone in my apartment my thoughts kept going back to Jay.

Where was he?

Was he okay?

Did he know I was gone?

Did he miss me?

Try to contact me?

It had already been a year since I left and in those twelve long months I kept asking myself the same questions over and over again. Every single day. Yet I was scared of the answers, so living in denial worked out just fine for me.

"How long have you been here? Go rest!" The Chief ordered me and I reluctantly handed him my stethoscope and took the elevator up to the break rooms.

My phone in my coat pocket was vibrating for the fifth time in the last three hours. I successfully ignored it earlier since I was too busy but now nothing was keeping me from checking.

I buried my hand in my coat pocket, gripping the phone tightly. Carefully I took it out but didn't dare look at it. The vibrating had stopped and a number was displayed on the screen.

Five missed calls. From an unknown number. But I immediately recognized the country code. The calls were from South Korea.

'It might not be Jay!', I told myself. It could very well be Ho-Seok, Minsoo or Jun-Seo, who just wanted to check up on me.

"Who are you kidding?" I said out loud, making several nurses turn their heads in my direction. I smiled shyly and retreated to the break room, kicking the sneakers off my feet.

Trying to be brave and also trying to come to a close with my time in Seoul, I promised myself to pick up the next time that number called. Of course it didn't ring. After a quick nap I went back to the ER, checking up on the patients. Everything seemed under control and finally I allowed myself to be persuaded to go home.

A hot shower and a warm meal did wonders to my mood and so I blissfully fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow.

It was only 4.30am when a rude noise startled me. I reached for my phone and found it buried under me. Squinting, I checked the number. It was the same one that had been calling me five times before. With trembling fingers I pressed the green button, my voice still hoarse from sleep.

"Hello?"

At first I heard nothing, then a person's breathing. Unsure of what to do, I waited until the person on the line spoke first. A sigh followed then the line went dead. I couldn't help but think that this was Jay.

It must've been him. He wanted to call, check in on me, but hesitated.

Mustering up the courage, I called the number back. At first it kept ringing and my hope that anyone would answer was small. But then the person on the other end answered. They didn't speak yet, all I could hear were faint noises in the background.

"Hello?" I repeated three, four times but no one answered.

I didn't want to get my hopes up but I was pretty sure who the anonymous caller was.

"Jay?" Even saying his name out loud hurt. It hurt like someone stabbed a dagger into my heart, twisted it and pulled it back out, leaving a gaping hole in my chest. "Is it you?"

A sigh, then the line went dead again. Filled with rage, I smashed the phone into the wall, breaking down, bawling me eyes out.

Continuous knocking on my door woke me up hours later. Light flooded the room and when I checked the time it was past noon.

"Shit!"

Sprinting down the stairs I called to the person banging on the door.

"Coming!"

I opened the door standing face to face with my neighbor, a lovely woman in her 50s. She looked concerned and pushed me aside, entering my apartment.

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure, Mrs. Baker! Why wouldn't it be?"

"I heard loud noises early in the morning but since it was so early I didn't want to wake up the whole floor. Then I went to the market and when I got back I noticed that your car was still here. Are you not working today?"

"I'm feeling a little under the weather."

"Don't worry, I'll bring over some chicken soup later, you'll feel a lot better after you had my famous chicken soup."

"Thank you, Mrs. Baker."

"Of course, dear! Do you want me to get you some medicine as well?"

"No, it's fine. I'll go myself. Breath in some fresh air."

"You do that, love."

Eventually I was able to get rid of her. I needed to call the hospital to let them know I wouldn't be coming in today. But first I needed to go buy a new phone, since mine laid smashed on my bedroom floor.

Putting on some leggings and a sweater, I grabbed my car keys and left my apartment. Armed with a new phone I called the hospital first. Then I tried the foreign number again.

After what felt like an eternity a female voice squeaked into the phone.

'Nuguseyo?'

I was flabbergasted. The last thing I expected was to hear a female voice. I wasn't a hundred percept but maybe ninety percent sure that this was Jay's phone.

"Oh, sorry. Wrong number." I quickly blabbed and hung up.

But was I really surprised? No. I didn't expect Jay to moon over me forever. Eventually he would be moving on. I just didn't expect it to hurt so bad.

[Jay's POV]

I stared into space, not registering the commotion around me. Choi Minsoo was cradling his newborn son in his arms, next to him his wife looked up at him, her eyes beaming with love and pride. Lim Dohyun was in deep conversation with his girlfriend. The two of them were inseparable. This was what Jinyoung had wanted all along. For his men to be happy. So why was I miserable?

"Boss- I mean, hyung!" Dohyun chuckled, calling after me, making everyone's heads turn in my direction.

I looked up to him and shook my head no. I knew what he wanted to ask me. He wanted to know if I called Sophia yet. And the answer was no. But that's not the only reason I shook my head. I didn't want him to say her name out loud. It hurt, thinking about her.

Choi Minsoo caught our little exchange and carefully placed his son into his wife's arms.

"Come with me!"

I had successfully uncovered Lee Sang-Woo's dirty deals with corrupt business men, police officers and prosecutors. He was arrested and sentenced to life in prison. My work was done. Going back to business felt wrong. After consulting with Minsoo, we both decided it was time to abandon this line of work. Dohyun and the rest immediately agreed as well and shortly after we closed down our business. I gathered all of our money and assets distributed them fairly among our family members. Some moved out, some stayed in the mansion, but all successfully moved on and made something out of themselves. That's really all I had hoped for.

'Now you can call Sophia!' Dohyun had said one night when we sat down to drink together.

He had just started dating and was unsure himself how his girlfriend would react when he told her about his past.

'Don't tell her then!' I had offered back then.

'I should. I want to!' Came his stern reply.

'Dohyun is right. Now you can call her!' Minsoo had exclaimed, joining our little get-together.

'You have no right to talk! It's your fault she's gone!' I had barked back at him, even though deep down I knew Minsoo did the right thing.

"Is everything okay with you?"

After dissolving our business I was no longer their boss. Even though some still called me that. Old habits die hard, I guess.

In my new role as hyung and dongsaeng, I found myself seeking Minsoo's advice a lot. He was older then me, and definitely wiser. After all, he managed to get married and have a baby in just a year.

"Sure. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because you look like crap!"

I snorted, surprised by his level of candor.

"Why don't you call her?"

"I do. I did! Dammit, I'm calling her constantly."

"And?"

"I can't talk. I choke and hang up as soon as I hear her voice."

Minsoo's laughter was bouncing off the walls, resonating in the pit of my stomach.

"Jay, man, man up! She's waiting for your call! Don't leave her waiting too long."

"I don't even know what to say. I just- I miss her. So much!"

My eyes were glistening with tears. A year ago I wouldn't even have thought a conversation like this could take place between us.

"Then go to her!"

"I-"

"Nothing's keeping you here! Go and meet her!"

"What if she moved on?" This had been my biggest fear since I found out she had left Seoul.

"Then you will come back and move on as well."

Minsoo looked at me intently, saw how coflicted I was, and pushed me just enough so I would make a decision.

"I am going to Seattle. I am going to Sophia!"

"That's my boy! Go pack. I will get you on the next flight."

[Sophia's POV]

The wind was icy and the rain hailed down unapologetically. Searching for refuge, I entered the first store I saw.

Looking around, I recognized where I was. It was the store I ran into Jay for the first time. A feeling of sadness washed over me but I shoved it aside. He had definitely moved on. The woman answering his phone could very well be his girlfriend, hell, even his wife.

'I should move on as well', crossed my mind before the handsome barista took my order.

"Is that all?"

I nodded, smirking incredulously. Was he flirting with me?

"That'll be 7.40."

I handed him the money and pulled out a one dollar bill from my purse.

"Can I borrow your pen?"

He smiled and handed it to me, probable realizing what I was about to do. I scribbled my number onto the bill and gave it to him. "And that's for you!"

Beaming, he handed me my receipt and vowed to make good use of his 'gift'.

With a satisfied smile on my face I left the coffee shop shortly after. The rain had stopped and the clouds were breaking up, revealing a beautiful bright blue sky underneath.

I sat down in a nearby park, enjoying my coffee and soaking up the sun. It wasn't long before someone tapped me on the shoulder.

Fully expecting it to be the cute barista, I put on my most attractive smile and slowly turned around. First I saw a hand covered in tattoos and when I finally locked eyes with Jay, I dropped my coffee, the brown liquid soaking my boots.

[Jay's POV]

Now that I was back in Seattle I realized how stupid coming here was. What if Sophia moved away? I got cocky thinking I could find her again, because I had already found her once.

Naturally I was drawn to that coffee shop I first met her in. My chances were slim to nonexistent but I couldn't be thorough enough. I walked in and saw a small line. Since I wasn't in the mood for coffee I walked right back out. Something in the park across the street caught my eye. A woman was sitting alone on a bench, her head tilted back, facing the sun. She didn't remind me of Sophia but I had to make sure nonetheless.

Walking up to her I thought about how to approach her. What to say if it turned out to be stranger. I had a whole speech planned by the time I approached her, standing behind her. She just took a swig out of her to-go cup when I tapped her on the shoulder. Immediately she turned around but something in her movements made it appear as if she was moving in slow motion.

I didn't get to see her face right away, as wind was constantly blowing her dark brown hair in front of it. When she stood in front of me she gasped and I involuntarily mimicked her actions.

"Jay?" She barely whispered my name and had it not been for the moment of silence in traffic, I wouldn't have been able to hear her.

"Hi." I said in return, because that was the only thing I remembered.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, her voice as shaky as her hands after she dropped her cup.

I heard her voice but I had zoned out. I was drinking in her beautiful face, her hair that was now longer and darker, her lips that trembled, her eyes glistening with tears.

I forced myself to speak, to say anything, while she stood there as beautiful as I had remembered her. The shock in her eyes disappeared and gave way to other, much more complex emotions. Her bottom lip kept trembling, and I didn't know whether it was from the cold or from seeing me. All I knew was that I had to do something.

I walked around the park bench, standing in front of her, blocking the sun so her eyes wouldn't tear up.

Is it really just the sun that's making them tear up?

As I stood inches away from her I could hear her irregular breathing, see how flustered her skin was. I realized that it wasn't the sun that had made her tear up after all.

"I missed you!" I said, grabbing her face and pulling it towards mine.

[Sophia's POV]

I had closed my eyes as soon as Jay grabbed my face. I was too emotional to look at him, instead I allowed myself to feel him. When his soft, plump lips touched mine, I gasped at the fact that a low whimper had escaped my lips along with a couple tears that simultaneously had escaped my eyes.

His voice was ringing in my ears, while his every touch sent electrical shock waves through my body.

'I missed you!'

Was this real? Or was I daydreaming? Had I finally gone completely mad?

If this was what losing the last shred of my sanity felt like then so be it!

"Jay..." I whispered into the kiss. Slowly, he pulled back but I hesitated to open my eyes.

What if he wasn't there anymore? What if this was all in my imagination?

But that couldn't be it! It all felt too real.

"Sophia?"

At the sound of him calling my name I teared my eyes open, staring directly into his.

"How? Wh-"

He smiled mischievously, pulling me closer to him for another kiss. He was right. I didn't know how he was suddenly standing in front of me or for how long he would be here. But it shouldn't matter. We shouldn't waste our time with words.

Grabbing his hand, we walked down the street to where I had parked my car. We got in and I immediately took off. No one said a word in those 25 minutes. That was 10 minutes more than it usually took me to get home because I got lost twice due to my brain not working properly.

He's here!

He's finally here!

What does this mean?

How long is he going to stay?

I pulled up on the driveway and killed the engine before Jay hopped out and quickly came round to my side. I thought he would get the door for me and sulked when I saw he was just standing there, waiting.

I got out and walked up to him. Without a warning he heaved me onto his lap, carrying me inside. My face was buried in the crook of his neck so I wouldn't have to look at the faces of my many neighbors.

I unlocked the door and Jay carried me inside, refusing to put me down.

"Bedroom. Where?" He asked out of breath but something told me my weight wasn't the reason.

I pointed to the bedroom and Jay stormed inside, finally letting me down. I blinked a few times, unable to form coherent sentences.

"Why are we here?" I finally blurted out. Jay had gotten rid of his thick jacket and I did the same, little beads of sweat covering both our faces.

"Because I missed you!" He said again as a matter of fact.

"But- but the- the-" I stuttered when Jay began to undress me.

"The woman!" I shrieked, jumping back, realizing I was already only in my underwear.

"Woman? What woman?"

"The one who answered your phone!" I said, an unfamiliar pain spreading in my chest.

"What wom- ah, her! That was Minsoo's wife."

"Minsoo's what?!"

"I promise you I will explain everything. In great detail. I just- right now all I want is you!"

"Why are you here?"

"To take you back home. Because that's where you belong. In our home!"

My heart threatened to jump out of my chest at Jay's words. Home. My home wasn't here. It was with him. My home was Jay!

"It's been a year!" I cried out while Jay, now only in his boxers himself, pulled me closer to him, caressing my face while his arm wrapped securely around my waist.

"I know, baby! It took me a while to figure out why I was unhappy."

"I love you!" I said, looking into his warm brown eyes. "I think I always did!"

"I love you, too, baby. So much!" His lips finally crashed into mine and slowly he walked towards the bed until he carefully lowered me onto the soft mattress.

"I will never let you go again!" He whispered in between kisses.

"You are my home!" I replied out of breath, before we both let go of all our inhibitions and allowed for our raw passion and love to take over.

***

- The End -

#jay park #more soju please #more vision #park jaybum #park jaebeom #park jaebum #khh fanfic #khh imagines #jay park imagines #jay park scenarios #jay park fanfic #jay park aomg #aomg jay park #aomg imagines #aomg scenarios #h1ghrmusic #h1ghrgang

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araluenstories · 3 years

Text

O'Carrick siblings (& songs of Lana Del Ray)

#can we please like talk about what they could have had?!#just imagine #ferris standing up for his siblings and using his ablities to get rid off everyone who would be even daring enough to try to hurt them #instead of #trying to earn the throne for himself #halt never having a reason to leave #and caitlyn being her usual awesome herself #they would burn the world to the ground #just forget about araluen for a moment #forget about the rangers and will and horace and alyss #imagine you don't know anything about them #and you just have these three kids who make other countries tremble #I CAN'T START ANOTHER FANFIC I HAVE TOO MANY AND COMPLETED NONE #ranger's apprentice #rangers apprentice #halt o'carrick #ferris o'carrick #caitlyn o'carrick

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mentalpolaroids · 3 years

Text

When he pushed her away

and when she pulled him back (part II)

[gif creds @tairoberts]

JJ Maybank x female!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking

Based on the quote ‘To douchebags!’ He said, gesturing to brad. ‘And TL girls that break your heart,’ he bowed his head to me. His eyes lost focus. ‘And to the absolute fucking horror of losing your best friend because you were stupid enough to fall in love with her.’ from the book Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire.

Thank you @yourroyalyaverageprincess for sending this prompt and for trusting me with writing it, I hope I made it justice 🥰

Part 1

“Have you seen JJ?”

“Uh, he was here not even five minutes ago.” Pope answered (Y/N).

She had just arrived at the chateau and, after greeting everyone, there was only one person left. That person being the boy who she missed like crazy even though she had been hanging out with the Pogues everyday. JJ had been quieter, and she would even say distant, since the episode at the country club. She assumed he was probably just ashamed for crying in front of her. He usually went back to his dorky self no longer after a day, but it had been almost a week and she was dying to hug her best friend. He was there but at the same time he wasn’t.

“Do I stink or something? It’s like every time I arrive here he runs away.”

“You don’t stink.” Pope assured, passing her a beer, “He has been acting kinda weird, though. He usually behaves like a kid on Christmas when he knows you’re coming.” he smiled, convinced his friend had some kind of crush on the girl. If only he knew.

She smiled at the comparison and studied the beer can, wondering where he had ran off this time and if she really was the reason for that.

JJ missed her like crazy. It had been three weeks since he had had a proper conversation with her. That is, if you can consider a hi or a see ya later a conversation. He just couldn’t help the way his hands trembled, his heart raced and the way his mind went blank at the sight of her. (Y/N) was driving him insane without even trying, making him behave in a foreign way, and he couldn’t stand it because he didn’t know how to control or act on it, let alone stop it. It was scary. He was scared and he just wished he could at least push all of that aside and be able to hug her or even look her in the eye without having this desperate urge to kiss her and tell her how he felt. JJ felt ridiculous for not being able to even be left alone with the girl without starting to sweat and overthink what he should say. I love you and I’m an idiot and I’m sorry. If only it was that simple.

He took a glance at (Y/N) half sitting, half laying down on one of the couches as he stood on the opposite side of the porch. Kie had gone to use the bathroom and Pope was helping John B wash the Twinkie after the dark skinned boy had insisted the van needed an urgent bath. Which left the duo alone, much to JJ’s distress and (Y/N)’s nervousness in making conversation after her anxiety had convinced herself that she probably had done something wrong and her best friend was still mad at her.

“So,” she started, experimenting looking at him, “how’ve you been?”

He nodded his head, not holding her gaze for more than a millisecond.

“I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

She scoffed, not as discreetly as she intended, making the blonde finally look at her.

“Really?”

JJ shrugged his shoulders in response, pretending to not know what she was talking about. It was stupid of him, he was aware of that. He couldn’t possibly believe she hadn’t noticed the way he was acting towards her. Or more so, the way he wasn’t acting towards her. (Y/N) rolled her eyes after a few seconds of waiting for a proper answer, hopefully an explanation, but nothing came out of his mouth.

“Whatever, JJ.” she got up and went inside. It was the first time they had such a short, vain and insecure exchange of words. The pair was always so carefree and loving towards each other, it felt so painfully out of place, like they were strangers.

But it was the way she looked at him disappointedly that made tears form in his eyes as he stared at the wooden floor. He was too stubborn to let them fall though, no matter how much it hurt to see that he was losing her a bit more every day. And it was all because of him.

The Carreras were kind enough to let the Pogues stay at The Wreck after closing time to celebrate Pope’s birthday. It was just the five of them, as usual, but the place felt crowded with the tension between JJ and (Y/N) taking up the whole room. No one could really understand what was going on between the two, not even the girl herself, who was involved in the mysterious fight.

JJ had decided to try and drown his emotions a bit and start early with the drinking, because if he would have to force himself to not crawl back to her the entire night then he would need the help of something stronger than his feelings for her.

The evening went by more tolerably than she expected, mostly because her friends were being good distractions and JJ seemed entertained enough with his drinks and Pope’s jokes to hamper her job of trying not to think of him. But to see him smile for the first time in weeks, even with a few drinks on top to blame, it was like she wanted to save that image in her brain. She missed him so fucking much and she swore she could tear up just at the sigh of it, like she did some many nights lately.

A few games in, it was finally time to sing happy birthday to Pope and try the cake Kiara spent the whole afternoon making, stating that was her birthday present to the boy because it gave her a lot of trouble.

As Pope finished his random speech, making everyone laugh with the nonsense that were his words under the influence of the alcohol, JJ filled another shot and stood up, raising the glass to the ceiling.

“To Pope.” he simply said, drawing the shot. He immediately filled the shot glass again and repeated the gesture to continue his speech, “To douchebags!” his eyes filled with tears and everyone looked at each other, confused, no one recalling ever seeing JJ being emotional when drunk, “To all the girls that break your heart.” his eyes, now tired of holding the tears, letting one escape and fall over his cheek, fell onto (Y/N), who observed him with genuine concern and her own tears threatening to fall. They held each other’s gazes as the blonde continued, “And to the absolute fucking horror of losing your best friend because you were stupid enough to fall in love with her.”

JJ hit the bottom of the glass on the tabletop and drank it and, with an unbothered wipe of the stubborn tear, he turned his back to the table and walked outside.

The silence that followed the scene was heavy and (Y/N) felt like she was being crushed by it. No fucking way she kept repeating in her head. Of all the things she had pictured to be the reason her best friend had pushed her away, him falling for her never even crossed her mind. She had discarded the hope of her feelings being reciprocated a long time ago. It never got easier, though, and in that moment, all she wanted to do was scream, yell at him for how stupid, blind, and a straight up idiot he was.

“(Y/N/N)?” John B’s voice broke her out of her trance, and it was only when she looked up that her tears took the liberty of falling from the movement of her eyes.

“Well, that was unexpected.” she joked and tried to smile, but it felt like her lips weighed tons from how heavy and difficult it was to smile at that moment.

“Everything makes sense now.” Pope mumbled, understanding it was a JJ thing to do ro run away from his problems and feelings, but no one ever expected that would happen with the girl. Everybody was sure nothing in the world could break them apart.

“I should probably go talk to him.” (Y/N) stated, wiping her tears.

“You sure? Don’t you think it’s better to give him some time?” Kie asked, holding the girl’s hand as she got up.

“I think we both had plenty of time.”

JJ was resting against the guardrail, his elbows supporting his weight as his hands fidgeted loosely in front of him. His head was down, not staring at anything in specific, but anywhere that could hide his features. Anywhere his vulnerability couldn’t be seen.

A presence next to him made him stiffened. He knew it was her and oh how he wished he could fall into her arms and cry again. But he wanted to cry about her so it didn’t seem plausible. She positioned herself close to him but with her back towards the water, as if to give him some privacy with his thoughts. She knew Kie was right, she should probably give him and herself time to process that new information. Information that could change everything. But she was so tired of overthinking possibilities as to why he pushed her away, if it was her fault. She just wanted answers and go back to hold her fucking best friend. He’s more than that now. He always has been.

“Is this why you have been avoiding me?”

“Are you mad?”

“I asked first.”

JJ paused for a moment and stood straight, his head lifting just a bit, enough to see the moon reflected on the water and her figure in his peripheral vision.

“Yeah.”

She nodded, relieved for finally getting an answer. He didn’t need to elaborate on that, it wasn’t necessary when she knew damn well how he prefers to avoid his problems and refuse to accept his feelings then facing the music. It’s always too loud for him.

“For how long?” she asked, turning on her side and holding her weigh on her hip against the guardrail.

“A few months I guess. Probably longer.”

(Y/N) smiled, this time with no effort, her lips like a feather. She let out a chuckle causing him to look at her, “Yeah, go ahead and laugh. Take your time.” he rolled his eyes and looked back to the water, getting himself ready for the embarrassment that would follow. (Y/N) shook her head. He really was oblivious.

“You know, I think the reason we get along so well after all is because we’re both really, really stupid.”

“We are?” he was genuinely confused, having no clue where she wanted to go with that.

“Yeah. You really don’t see it, do you?”

“Look, if this is some weird joke about you friendzoning me, save it. Just go straight to it, I really… I really don’t wanna do this right now.” his voice cracked in the end. For a moment, she felt bad, but at the same time, he was just proving her point.

“JJ.” when he didn’t bulge at her soft calling, she reached for his hand, bringing it to her lips and planting a kiss on his knuckles, “Hey, can you please look at me?” she spoke as gently as she could to let him know she wasn’t trying to make fun of him or friendzoning him. She just wanted JJ to look her in the eye and read her like she could read him. Hesitantly, he looked at her.

“I think it’s fair for you to know” she took a deep breath, “that I fell for my best friend too.”

His eyes widened a bit, as if it would help him retain that information. Is this real right now?

“And in case you need, like, reassurance and shit, yes, the best friend is you.”

“Well, shit.” his voice was still low, but the use of words showed a bit of the mild kleptomaniac JJ Maybank was coming back, “I really am stupid, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, a bit.” she laughed along with him, “But I don’t mind. I mean, you could’ve just told me instead of pushing me away.”

“You never asked.”

“Why would I ask, dumbass?” she accused, which made him laugh harder.

(Y/N) brought his hand back to her lips, his eyes following their intertwined fingers as they were kissed again by her. He released the grip, moving his hand to move a strand of hair out of her face and then grabbed her hand again, her turn to have her fingers kissed by him.

“So, are you for real?”

She rolled her eyes, her smile never leaving her face.

“Yes, I’m for real for real.”

They stood in silence, a comfortable and heartwarming one, as they stared at each other. It was easy to read their faces, the amount of love they held inside of them for each other being hard to cover up and there was no need to try.

“I’m gonna throw you in the water if you don’t kiss me right now.” (Y/N) broke the silence, not bothering to put distance between them as she spoke. He grinned at her snarky attitude.

“God, I fucking missed you.”

And there he was, not only back in her arms but experiencing his new favorite thing: kissing her. No amount of daydreaming could compare to that moment and he felt, indeed, really stupid for wasting so much time. He could’ve been feeling those fucking restless butterflies that whole time but he was too scared to act on it. It would take a while for him to forgive himself for pushing her away, hurting both in the process, but he was also forever thankful and damn proud of (Y/N) for pulling him back, closer than ever, and he just hoped she didn’t plan on letting him go any sooner, because he wanted to stay.

…………………………………………………………………..

@fandomspov

#outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine

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eideticmemory · 3 years

Text

TWO GHOSTS IV | MATTHEW GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Read PART 3.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.9k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Love Affair - UMI

Debt - Eliza McLamb

Sometimes Sunshine - Seasalt

A nonstop flight, from New York City to Los Angeles, is three hours long. On a good day. And May 16 was supposed to be a good day. A great day. The best day of Matthew’s life. He tries not to think about it, not to reminisce too often. About the way he walked through the airport with a little jog, a little pep in his step. And the way he smiled through security, and constantly checked behind him as if you would magically appear. The roses he bought for you in a gift shop near the terminal.

See, a nonstop flight from New York City to Los Angeles is three hours long. On a good day. But Matthew wasn’t looking for three hours. He wasn’t asking you for a few hours of your time, or even a good day. He was asking you for a lifetime.

And that day, he had booked you two a connecting flight that totaled over six hours, with a two hour layover in Colorado. There was a little ice cream shop in the Denver airport, and they served blueberry ice cream. Matthew remembered it was your favorite, and saved just enough money to get your tickets and an entire pint. He couldn’t shake the thought of flying across the country with you, seeing a few small parts of it at a time. A few small parts at a time, until someday, you two had seen the whole world together.

He bought a blanket for you and, while waiting at the terminal, he sat it in the seat beside him, keeping it warm for when you would arrive. He had a little itinerary written in his notes app, and so far everything was going to plan. He had a bouquet of roses in his lap, and he killed time by looking up engagement rings online.

He didn’t start to worry until maybe, an hour, an hour and a half before the plane was set to depart. He called you, just to check in, and it went straight to voicemail. But he was still hopeful. There was very little that could destroy his peace that day. His hope. His happiness.

He tries not to think about it. The way the seconds inched by like a caterpillar moving across the limb of a tree. Slowly, painfully. The way his hope dwindled, and dwindled, and the insane amount of times he heard,

Hey, it’s [y/n]! Leave a message!

He can’t think about it anymore. The way he spents those six hours alone. Bawling his way through flight after flight, and eating a pint of blueberry ice cream by himself. He spent hours on his own. And weeks, months, hell, he spent years thinking that maybe, just maybe, you would find your way back to him.That the universe would magically correct itself.

And you’d come home.

Fifteen.

It took him fifteen years to find you again. It took fifteen years for the universe to bring you back together, and Matthew spent the first five thinking it was all some really shitty nightmare. It took him fifteen years to get close to you, to hear you say his name again, to get inside of you again.

And he managed to fuck it all up in a matter of twenty-four hours.

His body is paralyzed. His mind is moving a mile a minute, and he can’t take his eyes off the ceiling. His chest feels tight, like he can’t breathe properly. He knows he should not feel sorry for himself. That he, alone, is responsible for this wreck. But he can’t seem to shake it. He can’t seem to move.

“What the hell did I do?”

A knock at your door wakes you up. You don’t remember falling asleep, you don’t know how you were able to. But now, it’s all you want to do. You want to stay in the bed, in a state of unconsciousness and dreariness where you can’t remember your mistakes. But someone is knocking. Incessantly, loudly. And they won’t stop.

You roll out of bed, and drag your body across the floor. Zombie like, your shoulders are slouched, your eyes are hooded. Your feet shuffle along the floor like they’re weighted to the hardwood. Your footsteps are slow, hesitant. You don’t know what you’ll do if Matthew is on the other side of that door. You just . . . you don’t know. The very thought of it is making your stomach churn, and you suddenly feel very, very nauseous. The banging continues, and it’s as someone is using all their force. Like they’d break the door down if they could.

“[y/n]!”

You instantly relax at the sound of her voice. You speed up, hurry to the door, “[y/n] [y/l/n]! I know you can hear me! Open up!”

The door swings open and you catch her with her fist in the air, ready to strike the door once again. She’s pissed, doesn’t try to hide it, couldn’t hide it even if she tried.

“Good morning,” you rasp.

“It’s one in the afternoon,” she corrects you, pushing her way into your home.

“Please,” you say, shutting the door behind her. “Come on in.”

“Y’know,” Everest starts, clasping her hands in front of her as a wild look graces her face. “You’ve always been one of the good ones . . . hell, you’ve been . . . great, if that’s the word. You’re better than the others. The ones that really write my checks. But, um, you’re testing me, [y/n].”

You don’t even have to ask.

“Now, if there’s is some magical relationship blooming, or a monumental disaster about to strike, then you need to tell me now, so I can fix it. I’m a fixer, you know, that’s what I do. So, why are you making this so hard for me?”

“If it . . .” you clear your throat, cross your arms as you stare at her feet. “If it makes you feel any better, um, this is hard for me, too.” You attempt to joke. But you just sound sad.

“Yeah?” she raises her eyebrows. “So hard that you come out of his hotel in tears? And what the hell were you doing over there anyway? Was there a plan? Did he call you to come over?”

“I don’t see how any of this matters.”

“It matters because I woke up at seven in the morning — on a saturday — to all sorts of choas and speculation, and picture evidence of you doing exactly what I told you not to do!”

“Yeah, well, I’m a idiot. Don’t worry, that’s been established.”

“The internet is undefeated. Okay? People are . . . great at making up stories, making assumptions. And as your publicist, I need to know the whole story, the real story, before it gets twisted even further.”

You sigh, and walk over to the couch. As you sit down, you pull a pillow into your lap for just a little bit of comfort. “What do you mean the whole story?”

“Wrong choice of words,” Everest says. “The important parts of the whole story. Like are you dating him? Are you fucking him? If so, how long has this been going on?”

You can’t make eye contact as you speak, “I . . . fucked . . . him . . . a few times, a long time ago . . .”

She nods. She motions at you to continue, “. . . And?”

“And . . .” you breathe out. “I fucked him, again. Recently.”

“Last night? At the hotel?”

“Last night . . . not at the hotel.”

“Sooo, when? — Oh, my God,” she lowers her eyebrows at you, purses her lips. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” you nod. It’s a shameful nod. “You know they say there’s no sex like sex in a dressing room.”

“They also say polka dots are making a comeback, you believe everything you hear?”

“Sorry.”

“So you fuck him in the dressing room, and?”

“And . . . we go our seperate ways . . . again. And, then I realize that’s a lot easier said then done, so I . . . I go for him. I go for him . . .” Everest can hear the way your voice is cracking, the way the weight on your shoulder is slowly pushing the air out of your lungs. “And, uh,” you clear your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, it didn’t work out. Hence the . . . photos of me crying, I guess.”

“Mm,” she nods, crosses her arms. “And the other girl?”

You freeze, cut your head up at her. “What other girl?”

“What do you mean? The girls that came out right behind you. Same sad face? Kinda got a Natalie Portman look to her?”

“I . . .” you shake your head. “I didn’t know she came out after me, I must have left by then.”

“Who is she?”

You give her a shrug, “I don’t know.”

“His girlfriend?”

You huff, “Guess so.”

“Ah, so, some people online actually got it right. Huh, look at that.”

“Look, if the point of all of this is to keep me away from him, you can stop now. I don’t plan on seeing him ever again.”

The doorbell rings, as if on queue, and Everest instantly gives you a look. “What?” you ask. “I don’t know who it is. Your guess is as good as mine.”

She scoffs at you, and turns around, marching towards the door with a certain determination. She pulls it open, and immediately puts her hand on her hip. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Oh,” Matthew gasps. “Uh, oh . . . fuck . . . sorry, I must — I must have the wrong house.”

“You sure do, Romeo.”

You stand from the couch, your face laced with shock and anger and confusion, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Don’t engage, [y/n], what the hell?” Everest interjects.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “How the hell did you find my house?” you direct at Matthew.

“Oh, what?” he scoffs. “Like you’re the only one around here who can play stalker?”

“Go home, Matthew.”

“Five minutes. I’m asking you for five minutes. You can time me if you want.”

“Go back to California, Matthew.”

“Look, I know I fucked up. I know, but —“

“Do you?” you snap. You take slow, calculated steps towards the front door, and your voice is lowering to a rumble. “Do you know that you fucked up? Because, if you did, if you truly knew just how badly you fucked up, then you would leave. You would get on a fucking plane and leave, and you would never come back!”

The way Matthew is looking at you right now.Like he can’t fathom what’s happening. Like he is trying his very best not to feel defeated. “Can I . . . can I just —“

“No.” Everest says. “You heard her. Fuck off, string bean.”

You walk away, retiring to your kitchen. You try to keep yourself busy, but you’re trembling like mad and you can barely breathe.

Matthew leaves. You know because you hear the door close. Everest comes into the kitchen, and you feel stuck. Frozen to the spot and position you’re in. Your back is to her, and you can’t begin to imagine or guess what look is on her face right now.

She’s quiet for a moment, eyeing you with her arms crossed at her chest. She leans against the entryway and sighs, “Tell me more.”

Ramona walks up your driveway, and it isn’t until she looks up from her phone that she sees Matthew. She notices him, and he notices her, and Ramona tries to act like it didn’t happen, But when Matthew opens his mouth to speak, she blows past him, “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

“I know,” he says instantly. He is well aware, but it doesn’t stop him from running in front of her, blocking her from your front door. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, but . . . please, can you give this [y/n]?”

Matthew holds out an envelope. It’s bright red, your name is printed on the front of it in his handwriting.

Ramona glances at it, but she quickly glances back up, “Do I look like a mailman to you?”

“She won’t take it from me. She won’t talk to me. She might take it from you.”

“Yeah, or she might fire me for even taking it from you in the first place.”

“[y/n] wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s usually pretty amazing, except for when you’re around, or when you’re brought up, or when you’re fucking with her head. You make her a different person, dude. I want no part of it.”

He nods, looks down, “Fair enough . . . I’ll put it in her mailbox.”

“Yeah, why don’t you do that?” She shrugs, and she continues on by him.

“Damn . . .” Everest says. “You ghosted the guy at the airport?”

“Basically,” you shrug.

“Well, fuck,” she scoffs. “That is some serious great gatsby shit.”

“Yeah, we’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

The doorbell rings, and you both turn your heads sharply towards the entrance. “You don’t think he would come back, do you?” Everest asks as she walks to the door.

“Well, he never listens much to anything I say, but he’s probably a little scared of you.”

She laughs, and when she opens the door, she tells you it’s only Ramona, who walks in quickly, looking for you. She gives you a soft smile, and joins you in the kitchen as Everest follows close behind.

“So,” Ramona pips. “What’s the game plan?”

“You and [y/n] come to my office in the city and we’ll figure it out. Hey, did you pass him on your way out?” Everest asks her.

“Uh, who?”

“Matthew,” you tell her. “He was just here, you didn’t see him?”

“He was here?” Ramona questions, putting on a look of bewilderment. “When?”

“Just now. He left right before you got here.” Everest explains.

“Holy shit,” Ramona says. “What’d he want?”

“[y/n].”

“So,” you interrupt. “Your office? Now? We can go ahead and get going.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Everest stops you in your tracks, throwing her hands up. “Not so fast, you . . . you need to shower first.”

You look down at your outfit. You’re still dressed in Claire’s clothes and they’re completely disheveled. You haven’t showered or brushed your teeth since the last time you had sex, and the very thought makes you feel dirty. You look exactly how you feel. You sigh, “Fair enough.”

“We’ll wait in the car,” Everest nods, and motions to Ramona to follow her.

“What are we gonna do with her?” she says to Ramona as soon as they’re out of the house and walking down the driveway.

“I don’t know, she’s my boss . . . I can only help so much.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve known [y/n] for a long time now, and she’s never needed saving. But, something tells me we’re going to have to keep her away from this one.”

“From Matthew?” Ramona stops in her tracks.

“Well,” Everest stops, turns around to look at her. “She’s a grown woman. She’ll do what she wants. But, that zombie in there,” she motions to the house. “Who walks around the city in her pajamas for a man, is not [y/n]. Atleast, not the world’s [y/n]. People love her. She’s one of the few celebrities that’s kind and passionate and isn’t problematic. I’m just being proactive here.”

“Proactive?”

“She says she’s done with him. She told him she’s done with him. Now, we will just keep her on that path. Few months later, she and the rest of the world forget this ever happened and everything is back to normal.”

“You sound very sure of all of this.”

“Yeah, well, I like my schedules and I happen to like [y/n] so I better be sure. Come on, our ride’s further down the driveway,” Everest continues walking. While Ramona is stuck in place.

“Hey! Uh,” Ramona stutters, suddenly, loudly, causing Everest to turn around once again. “I think I left my water bottle in the house. I’ll meet you in the car?”

“Okay,” Everest eyes her. “It’s just around the corner. And tell [y/n] to hurry up.”

“I will!”

Ramona waits for Everest to continue down the driveway, and when she’s just far enough, Ramona turns around and acts as if she’s walking back up to your front door. When she’s positive Everest has made it to the car, she runs over to your mailbox. She opens it slowly, so it doesn’t creak as loud. The bright red envelope is the only thing in there, and she takes it out quickly. She looks at it for a moment, asks herself what the hell she’s doing. But she doesn’t have time to think right now, you could walk out at any moment. She closes your mailbox, shoves the envelope in her bag, and walks down the driveway.

Matthew Gubler, himself, is a disruption in the space-time continuum.

When you start tallying up the days, it just doesn’t make sense. Some days, every second feels like it’s crawling by. You’ll be in class, at the head of the class, and you’re surprised when your lesson plan ends atleast ten minutes early. And some days, time moves too fast. You find yourself running late for things, events, important people or things, which isn’t like you.

You call it Matthew Brain, and you keep that term to yourself. It happened fifteen years ago. And it’s happening now. It’s a slow, steady descent back to earth, back to reality. Time isn’t real with him, and you think that’s the reason you can’t remember much of your senior year. It’s a rush, a high to even be near him, and it’s the ultimate collapse when he’s gone. Really gone. Out of the life, for the second time.

Time has reset.

And what feels like one month with Matthew Gubler, only turns out to be four days.

You’re on a journey back to earth, and you haven’t even reached the bottom yet. It’s coming, but not now, you thought. You have time to prepare. And this time you’ll be ready. Ready to hit rock bottom, and spend another fifteen years digging yourself out. You have time, you’re sure of it.

Then Ramona comes into your office. She notices you crying, and you have to twirl around in your chair while you wipe the tears away. “Shit, Ro,” you try to laugh. “What’s up?”

“Uh, your afternoon class?” she reminds you. “With the girls at the community center? . . . What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

A lot. Not anything that you can really talk to Ramona about. And each day is something different. Like today, you’re feeling like a fucking idiot. You feel unbelievably stupid and lost and question why anyone in their right mind would choose to learn anything from you. You feel defeated, and you can’t get the look on that girl’s face out of your head.

You turn to Ramona with a soft smile, “I’m fine. I forgot about the class, thank you for reminding me. I just have to grab a few things before I go.”

“Well,” she sets her bag down in one of the chairs on the opposite side of your desk. She takes a seat in the other, “You’ve got some time, I haven’t even called the ride yet.”

You eye her, suspicious furrowing your eyebrows, “Oh, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she seems genuinely confused.

“Sit there and feel sorry for me. I don’t need pity. I’m alright.”

“I’ve never seen you cry before . . . I’m just worried.”

“And I appreciate that, kid, I really do. But you don’t have to be, alright?”

“. . . okay.” she shrugs.

“Anyways,” you change the subject. “How much time do I have until I’ve gotta be out of here?”

“Um, I can call you a ride now, it should be here in about, ten minutes?” Ramona pulls her phone from her pocket, and holds it up as she dials the number.

“Sounds good,” you nod.

She leaves the room to make the call, and when she closes the door, you release a big sigh. As if you’d been holding it in the whole time she was here. You get up from your chair, and walk around the desk. Not paying attention, you stub your toe into the adjacent chair, so hard that the chair falls to the ground.

“Ow! Son of a b—“ your yelp is cut off by a painful groan, and your reach down to hold your foot. You look out in front of you, and Ramona’s entire bag has spilled out across the floor. “Fuck,” you mumble and instantly begin to clean it up.

It’s bright red. And it sticks out like a sore thumb. You reach over to grab it, but only because you recognized his hand writing. You run your fingers over your name, and your head is starting to hurt from the amount of pure confusion.

The door swings open, “Okay, they’ll be here in fifteen, but you have some wiggle room —“ Ramona stops when she sees the item in your hand.

You stand up straight, look her in the eye. She’s shaking. She’s trembling, and there are already tears in her eyes.

“I . . . can explain,” she says.

“Then explain.”

“Matthew . . . wanted me to — to give that to you.”

“When?”

“When, um, when he was at your house on Saturday.”

“You said you didn’t see him. You acted like you didn’t even know he had been there. You took this from him?” your voice goes up at slight octave. Not by much, but it stills cuts Ramona like a knife.

“No! No, I didn’t take it from him. I told him to put it in the mailbox. Which he did, but then I . . .”

“You? You what? Went into my mailbox and took it? Are you kidding?”

“It was crazy! I know! It was absolutely insane of me! But—But Everest was saying all these things about protecting your image, and being proactive, I just wanted to help. I thought —“

“Everest? Everest knew about this?”

“No. No. I took it when she wasn’t looking, and I just, I thought maybe if you didn’t know about the letter, you would be able to move on, y’know? Heal.”

“That was not your decision to make.”

“I know. [y/n], I’m so sorry. I can’t — I can’t even begin —“

“You’re right,” you interrupt her. “You can’t.”

You look down at the envelope in your hands, and shake your head. “God, Ro, I can barely look at you right now.”

“I’m sorry . . .”

You nod.

“I’ll . . . go wait for the car,” she nods, sadly and apologetically exiting the room.

You close the door behind her, and press your back against it. You slide to the floor, and bring the evelope close to your face. The day is not over, and you may need all night to take this in. You are not mentally prepared for whatever is in your hands, but, you rip it open anyway.

There’s a thin piece of paper inside. You pick it up, and it feels so frail that you worry it might rip. You set it on top of the envelope, and examine it. Your eyes dot over the page, until you realize, it’s not a letter at all.

American Airlines

[y/n] [y/l/n]

Seat: 14A

May Sixteenth, 2002

It’s a plane ticket. From fifteen years ago.

One you’ve never seen.

One you’ve never touched.

And now that it’s in your hands, you wish you never knew it existed.

#mgg #esny #tg #mine

154 notes · View notes

achillieus · 3 years

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, infidelity, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, this part is full of angst and built up tension,

part: 3/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

Being Sebastian Stan is not a simple thing. Some days it makes him feel like he is only a porcelain face on screen. Nothing more than photographs and rumors. He had once told an interviewer he was scared people would never know the real Sebastian. What he meant was that he was worried he’d wake up one day and the real him would be vanished.

The world would have eaten him alive.

Walking you home, in empty streets in a small country makes it all easier. His mind is clear of dazzling thoughts and his heart is not racing up. He can smile and no one will be there to take a picture of him.

Somehow that makes him smile more.

And when he does, it feels like Christmas. And you are certain there will come a day where you’ll be so close to oblivion and unable to remember what mint tastes like or what your favorite color is, but you’ll still have the turned up corners of his mouth painted in your head.

He stops walking. You look at him confused. He’s fidgeting with his fingers.

“Back at the party,” he takes a long breath as if trying to slow down his heartbeat, “You were talking with that tall guy.”

He sounds terrified. You don’t understand why. He thinks it’s better that way.

“Yeah I was.” There’s a flicker of surprise in your voice.

“Do you know him well?” You realize you have stopped in front of a pharmacy, the halogen light above you, turning your skin a sick green color.

“I know he’s an actor.” You take a step, finding the courage to walk away from him. “He’s kinda famous here.”

You can hear him move close behind you.

“Do you want me to ask Argyris if he’s single?”

There’s mockery in his voice. It makes you feel intoxicated. It’s your turn to stop walking. Your gaze falls on his face and Sebastian can feel his eyes sting but he keeps them open; wide and pale blue.

Almost green, under this light.

“No.”

“Oh don’t be sh-“

“No, I mean it. I would never date a famous guy.”

“Why?” A hasted breath escapes his trembling lips. And for a moment you think of kissing him right there; in the middle of the street, but you never do.

His world moves too fast for people like us.

That’s what you want to yell back at him, but then you remember;

The evening Sebastian fell asleep in your couch, he was more than a famous guy. He was clutching on your pillow like a kid and he was humming to himself like your father used to.

And he smiled as he fell asleep.

There is no argument left in you. He’s just a boy.

“I’m scared.” Your words slowly suffocate him. He feels the weight of your heart pulling him down.

He nods.

The next two days pass in a blur. You can hear him laugh with people as they walk up the stairs to Argyris’ flat. You’re not used to him not stopping at your door. It makes your cheeks red and your eyes filled with salty tears.

You haven’t realized until now, but you’ve become dependent on his presence.

So when you open your eyes at 4am with your phone buzzing with an Instagram message, you bite your cheeks.

Are you awake?

You stare at the screen to make sure you read it all correct, until it turns black and then lights up once again.

Why are you scared?

You don’t have to be scared with me.

I’m trying. You want to answer. Help me. You want to answer. Please.

You put your phone away until the words turn blurry.

He’s back at your door the following night. He’s wearing a white tank top and his rings. He must have just finished shooting.

You keep staring at each other, both tongue-tied with the words you’ll never say. He looks worried and desperate. You look tired and desperate. Taylor Swift is playing in the background.

“No more AC/DC?” He laughs and your eyes smile.

“Do you want to talk?” He asks.

You shake your head like you’re at war with yourself.

“Do you want to just stay here?” Your voice is too silent but it’s almost deafening him.

Sebastian thinks that he wants tons of things. He wants to hold you. And he wants to touch you. Everywhere. And he wants to know why there’s sorrow surrounding you. And he wants to take it all away.

And he wants you.

But he knows that he can’t tell you that. These words are too heavy for you to carry on your shoulders. At least for now.

“I’ll stay.” He says with a breath.

You give him an almost smile and all you can feel is gratitude.

You lay in your bed together. You’ve slept with other guys in that bed before. And it’s been nude and sloppy and brutal. But this is different. This is intimacy in its purest form. You’re both fully clothed but you both feel naked. And so close. So close.

All Sebastian can hear is the sound of your breathing and every bone inside him is breaking. He is afraid he’s turning paralyzed.

And then you move your body and bring your forehead next to his. Sebastian inhales deeply. You smell of faded vanilla body cream.

You look at him and you know then you can get used to that. You bury your fingers in the hem of his shirt. You want him to come closer. He knows.

“I’ll stay love,” his voice is steady and sincere “Anytime.”

He calls you love because there’s nothing else to call you. He calls you love because you both need him too.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Sebastian thinks you’re always too sensible. It’s something you keep between the hollows of your body. “But it’s okay.”

His hand is in your hair. It soothes you.

“What happened? What broke you?” he whispers.

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how everything started. It's hard to remember but there is one image in the back of your eyes that crawls through your skin and makes you shiver. You try to ignore it.

“I don’t know.” He turns his gaze at you but you look at the cold ceiling. It’s so much easier this way.

He doesn’t answer. He just draws circles in the back of your palm and places his lips against the scalp of your head. And while you’ve never been much of a science person, you’re certain this is how a nuclear attack emerges.

When the sun rises and you wake up, he’s not there. Earth moves slowly as the cold sheets press against your skin.

It’s early, there is a soft breeze coming in from your open window. A man is bickering with this wife across the street.

You can hear her call him a liar.

I’ll stay love.

You can hear him yell his apologies.

Anytime.

Why do people lie? Why do we lie?

You don’t try to search for him. You take a shower and drink some chocolate milk. You pay attention to the silence in the room. You almost forget your heart is still beating.

You bump into Argyris’ girlfriend while taking out the garbage. You like her a lot. She’s strong and pretty and smart. You wonder sometimes, how exactly that feels.

You pray she doesn’t mention him. It doesn’t work.

“He must be flying right now.” Suddenly you feel as if there is something rotten inside your chest. It makes you want to graze your skin and throw away everything that's inside.

You look at her slightly confused.

“He’s flying to Toronto; he has to attend a festival there.” She smiles. You’ve noticed she always smiles.

You just nod and step out of the building. Her voice stops you.

“He’s coming back in some days.”

“I don’t care.” Now she laughs.

“There’s no need to lie.” You take a sharp breath. “He cares too.”

You want to believe her words but they seem like choke chains.

You throw your garbage away.

You keep your rotten chest.

Sebastian sits back at his seat and orders a hundred and one drinks. The airplane is chasing the sun. He’s chasing his thoughts. Neither will ever catch up.

He used to like travelling. Airports, suitcases and foreign hotel rooms made him feel free. Now they make him feel the opposite.

The material on his seat is rugged. He wants to go back to your soft sheets. He can’t.

And then he imagines a place and a time where he could just kiss you without any possible consequences. He imagines a place where you could rest your bodies together for a long time without worries weighing you down. He imagines a place where he gets what he wants. A place where that thing between you two is more than enough.

The sun blinds him. He closes the small window and then his eyes.

Being Sebastian Stan is not a simple thing.

Some days he can’t take it.

You’re sitting on the floor and it’s almost 9 in the morning. You’ve calculated the time difference and it’s 2 in the morning where he is. That sounds wrong. Almost scary.

He left three days ago but he’s everywhere. There are photos of him wearing stupid floral shirts and posing in a sophisticated way. And there’s Nicole Kidman next to him.

God. I’ve become infatuated with a man who plays in movies with Nicole Kidman and Robert Downey Jr.

That’s what you think and you know you’re doomed.

You expect him to send you a message or a picture at first, but he doesn’t. You wonder if your time together was only a blurry puzzle of disconnected memories that somehow fits in his past.

He’ll simply forget all of it.

You try not to think about him but then you meet Argyris in the lobby and you have to bite the inside of your mouth so his name doesn’t jump out from your lips.

You go to bed early that day. You hold onto your pillow and you count the hours that separate you.

(13 hours with a plane)

(25 days with a boat)

You count and you fall asleep.

And you fall in love.

It’s not uncommon to rain in Toronto. But today rain feels heavier on Sebastian’s skin. He remembers the day he met you; it was hot and the sun made the window glass look like it was about to melt. That memory is the cause of his shivering.

Once upon a time he was in love. He was in love with a girl who had ethereal written all over her body. He was in love with a girl who was destined for divinity.

But those were the old days; they are dead and gone now. Your skin glistening under the Athenian sun changed it all.

It’s not easy to feel this way. The sky understands so it opens up and pours down on his dark hair. He presses his eyes closed with his fingers. And he tries to imagine a version of himself that doesn’t think about you that often.

He can’t.

Not even when he has a deity as his girlfriend.

The next time you see him, his hair is a little longer and much messier than you remember. And you have to devour all the sense that’s left inside you as not to touch it with your bare hand.

He has a cigarette in his fingers and a dark jacket thrown around his shoulders and everyone’s asking him about the festival. You just sit on the corner of your neighbor’s flat and listen to laughter and glasses clicking against each other. And you smile.

Smile; because he’s here.

And then he notices you and you’re pretty sure his eyes linger on your face a little longer than it's normal for humans. And his gaze is so brilliantly blank and loony that you don’t know how to respond. And then he starts to cough. And he never looks at you for the rest of the night.

You want to believe it’s better this way.

But it makes you so angry; you want to clench your teeth hard.

It goes like this; you don’t exchange any words for the next two days and it feels like your lips will start to bleed.

And you don’t know but his head feels like battlefield.

“When do you know you can’t stop it?” He asks Argyris. He feels ashamed.

“When you don’t want to stop it.”

He grabs the beer can and drinks his confusion away. He hopes alcohol will send his thoughts to sleep but instead it sends him to your door.

He rests his head against the wooden material. He can hear water running down and he can hear you humming a song.

And the foreign words make no sense to him but somehow they sound like lyrical poetry.

He waits for the water to stop and then he knocks.

Your hair is wet and sticks to your blue shirt. Your eyes grow wide when you see him standing there.

“I thought you’d never come at my door again.”

He looks at the floor.

“I shouldn’t.”

He sounds defeated; defeated by his own self. And you can smell the flammable liquid on his breath. And you can see that he has his nails pressed against his palm. You take his hand in yours and he closes his eyes. You caress the little cuts with your fingers. There are no scars but the skin is still red and painted with fear. You understand and it makes you feel dirty and obscene.

You look thoughtful for a moment and then you decide you can’t go on like this. It will split your souls.

“How’s Canada?” His eyes fill with surprise and he laughs. It gives you pride.

“Never been?”

He takes a step inside your place and his eyes fall on the empty bottle of pills at the kitchen table.

He doesn’t say a word about it.

You love him for that.

“I’ve never been anywhere.” Your cheeks are flushed with a soft raspberry color.

Sebastian realizes then that he wants to show you the entire world. Every corner of it. He wants to hold your hand as you walk beneath the Corsican stars. And he wants to memorize the Northern lights with you by his side. And he wants to see you laugh as he falls off his surf board in New Zealand. And he wants every cliché thing there is to do.

His heart stretches at the thought of it.

“Canada is beautiful in its own way.” He looks out of your window.

You wonder if he’s trying to find some more constellations in the sky, but then he turns around and walks towards you.

“I’ve been there a lot of times.”

Of course you have, you think.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ears. It’s still damp and cold.

“Have you been to a lot of places?” He smiles and nods.

And then you can sense it; the sharp feeling of heartbreak crawling under your skin. You try to ignore it.

“I used to be grateful I travel all the time.”

You place your hand on his chest. The beating makes you calm.

“You’re not grateful anymore?”

He rubs his palm over his face.

“I am,” he inhales “But sometimes I just want to stay where I am.”

Yeah, I know.

He leaves an hour later, still drunk.

Still in love.

On Sunday, he takes you out for dinner. You tell him you don’t like dates. He promises it’s not a date.

You know you’re both lying.

He orders some red wine and he drinks as he watches you eat. It all feels natural to him. Somewhere at the back of his head though, there’s still some rationality left, that makes him think, this can’t be wrong, when it feels so natural.

He doesn’t drink any more.

You’re playing with the maraschino cherry on your dessert when his phone rings and your world comes crashing down.

You don’t intend to but you see the caller ID.

Love.

He had called you love one night.

He feels too guilty to look at you so he grabs the device and gets out of the place.

You want to throw the ice cream on the floor.

And then you want to hit the wall; with your head. But you can’t. So you just bite down at the cherry and wait for him to come back.

And when he does, things are different.

He doesn’t to try to make jokes and you don’t laugh. His eyes are everywhere but on you and your hand stays away from his.

You tell him you’re done with dessert so you can leave.

He has never felt more relieved.

Your pace is fast, but he catches up. You can’t outrun him.

His breath quickens as he comes closer. It’s almost innocent and childlike, the look he gives you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers and it makes you laugh. You laugh and you shake your head and it’s not enough.

“Why?” He can taste the bitterness all over you. “This wasn’t date. So why are you sorry?”

You keep walking and his breath keeps echoing in your ears. You find the entrance of your building.

You’ve seen the place a hundred times but only now you notice how old it looks. It makes you disgusted. It makes you want to vomit.

It starts with him saying he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

And then you rest your body at the soiled wall, trying to remind yourself you’ve had your heart broken before. And your eyes are not dry anymore. And you can taste salt in your lips. And he comes closer and he holds you.

You swear you see tears in his cheeks too, but he’s too fast to wipe them away.

“Have you ever done anything only to regret it a second later?”

You’re not certain which one of you asks but you can hear your bones breaking as you throw your head around and he arches his back.

His hands touch the dried tears on your face and it stings like sewing needles. And his lips touch yours. And for a brief moment you feel like you’re stealing from life.

And he can taste all of you; raw.

And it feels like fists that punch him.

And when you pull away you both have already regretted everything.

“Now you have something to be sorry for.”

You wonder if perhaps a broken dignity is better than a broken heart.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :)

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes #monday the movie #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #letyoudown

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Fourth Year (Part I) - Chapter 04

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words: 9.832K

Authors note: In this one I start to explore more of the magical bond between reader and wanda, and well, it will be very much about that from this one on. I need to know if you all prefer longer (and more detailed) chapters about the reader's years at hogwarts like this one (which has been divided into three parts) or if you prefer the pace of the first three chapters (with only the relevant events of the whole year). Enjoy your reading.

//-// x //-// //-// x //-//

It's very different having Nebula and Gamora at home.

You were used to having only Tony and Jarvis, and occasionally your father, but now that you have your friends sleeping in the next two rooms, you always have someone your own age to talk to and laugh about the same things.

It took a while for things to normalize, especially the first week. Thanos was furious about the letter that Gamora sent him, saying that they would live with you now. He showed up in the yard of your house the next day, and you have never seen your father so enraged.

They talked for many minutes, and then Thanos demanded to speak to his daughters. Nebula was trembling as she walked out the door, but your father stayed by their side during the entire conversation.

When they went back inside, Thanos left. Two days later, your father signed the adoption papers.

You were surprised when you discovered that Nebula was as passionate about magical mechanics as Tony, so it didn't take long for it to become commonplace for her to disappear into the basement of the house along with your brother, both of them wrapped up in some strange invention. You and Gamora usually spent most of your time in the backyard, she reading some Arithmanian stuff you didn't understand, while you played quidditch, or the two of you tended the garden. Mantis also came to visit you in the summer, and Groot was the size of a small dog now.

You exchanged many letters with Wanda during the vacations. And when Iron brought another one of them a little after dinner, on the antepenultimate week of vacation while you and Gamora were in your room talking about the coming year, she acquired a mischievous look on her face.

"What do you guys talk about so much?" She teased as you took the letter from Iron's beak. You shrugged, feeling your face heat up, and thought it better to look at the paper in your hands than Gamora's face.

“I don’t know,. Everything i think”. You answer.

Gamora is silent as you read the letter. You smile, because it is as if you hear Wanda's voice in the words you read.

"Can I ask you something?" Gamora speaks next, you make a noise with the little one in agreement, without taking your eyes off the paper. "Have you ever kissed anyone?

"What?" you ask in surprise, raising your eyes to her. "N-no."

Gamora's arms are crossed and she's sitting on the bed, and she raises her eyebrow in disbelief.

"Is that so?" She asks and you swallow dryly, confirming. Her expression softens. "I'm only saying that because a lot of people start dating in third grade."

You close the letter in your hands, placing it on the shelf beside you. Ignoring how the subject makes your stomach flip with nervousness, you rest your hands on your knee.

"Do you think we'll start dating too?" You ask shyly, and Gamora smiles, shrugging.

"Who knows?" She retorts. "I never thought about that either. But I do know that Pietro kissed Monica on the mouth after our leave vacation inside a cabin on the Hogwarts express."

"Are you for real?" You asked in surprise. "How did you find out about that?"

"Quill wrote to me last night." She says. "I forgot to tell you."

"Wow." You say.

"Yeah." She agrees. "Peter told me that Pietro turned red as a tomato, but kept smiling. I thought Wanda would tell you that."

You bit your tongue to avoid mentioning that you and Wanda don't talk about such things, and cleared your throat before shrugging.

"Maybe Pietro didn't say anything to her." You say. "I probably won't tell Tony when I have my first kiss."

"You're probably right." Gamora said casually. "But you're going to tell me, right? When you kiss someone, you need to tell me how to do it."

You laughed, walking over to Gamora.

"I promise I will." You say extending your pinky to her. She looks at you confused, "It's a pinky promise, haven't you ever sworn like that?"

"That's muggles' stuff." She comments with a smile, and you laugh.

"Yeah, my dad probably learned it from my mom." You say using your other hand to take Gamora's hand. "Come on, you put your finger like this, and then we swear."

Gamora laughed as she followed your commands, and then you repeated the promise. After you yawned, she bade you goodnight and went to her room.

You fought the urge to reread Wanda's letter, and threw yourself on the bed, not understanding why your brain was replaying Gamora's questions in your mind and you kept thinking of Wanda afterwards.

//-//

The Quidditch World Cup is happening this year, and you can hardly contain yourself with excitement.

You had been to the event a few times when you were younger, but now that you actually played quidditch it was a very different feeling.

Your favorite team was the Guardians of the Galaxy, who had played for England for many years, and were also your father's favorite team. Tony stopped liking them the first year, saying that they were losing too many games, but you knew it was because Steve Rogers was rooting for the Brooklyn Soldiers team and Tony was trying to impress him.

All your friends will be at the event, including many thousands of other witches from all over the world.

You have to wake up at dawn in order not to miss the time of the portal keys that have been scattered around the country by the Ministry of Magic, to prevent wizards from being seen disappearing into inappropriate places that could expose the magical world.

When you came down to the kitchen, everyone was already having breakfast. Your father kissed your forehead as he walked past you, a mug of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"Finally awake, sleepyhead." Teased Tony when he saw you, you just yawned.

"Are we leaving already?" You asked sleepily, grabbing some toast.

"Yes, dear." Her father replied looking at his watch. "Get ready soon, or we'll miss the schedule."

You grumble in agreement, hurrying to get back to your room and take a shower.

When you are ready, and stretching as you walk to the outside of the house, Gamora joins you, a backpack on her back resembling yours.

"I can't wait to see the foreign wizards." She comments excitedly making you smile. Gamora didn't like the sport, and was far more excited to see the witches from the rest of the world than to watch the match.

"I bet there's going to be some Ilvermorny people's stall." You say as you catch up with your father, who was waiting next to Tony and Nebula. Jarvis waves goodbye to you from the doorway, and you begin walking toward the trail beyond the mansion grounds. "They are so show-offy."

Gamora laughs.

"I've never met anyone from the United States." She counters. "But some witches from Japan have been to my house."

You know that the mention of home or Thanos makes Gamora very uncomfortable, so you try to skirt around the subject.

"I guess Nurse Cho was from Mahoutokoro, huh?" You comment, and Gamora shrugs. "Thor had mentioned that during a class, I think."

"I wonder if the other schools are cool like Hogwarts?" She asks, and you smile.

"No place is like Hogwarts."

Gamora laughs, but agrees. You walk in silence for a few more minutes, and it is only when you reach an empty area that you stop.

"Here we are, people." Your father says next, slightly tired from the exercise. He waves for everyone to form a circle as he checks his watch. "Two minutes to go, children. Stand in position please."

There is a small cloth boot in the center of the circle, and you are not the least bit surprised because you know that portal keys are usually the most mundane things you can think of.

You all reach down and touch the boot with your fingertips. You smile at Tony who looks up at you. Two minutes later, you feel a tug, and everything spins around you. Taking a deep breath, you focus on controlling yourself as you are falling into the portal key. And then you land on the ground.

"Here we are." Your father says smiling beside you. You look to the side to see Gamora helping Nebula to stand up properly, as she had remarked that she gets a little queasy with this kind of magic. Tony throws an arm around your shoulders next.

"Ready to see the guardians lose, kid?" He teases causing you to let out a humorless laugh.

"You wish." You grumble pushing Tony lightly, who lets go as he laughs.

And then you start walking again, until you come to a place considerably noisier than where you were before.

The ministry seemed to have bypassed an area with low chains, and you notice the magical aura around the metal, signaling that everything was magically hidden.

There is a wizard in uniform at the entrance, and he collects the tickets before letting you pass into the hut area.

There are many tents of the most varied characteristics. You laugh in surprise when your gaze catches a conjuration exactly like a vacation castle, but much smaller in size. As you walk through the crowd, your father asks everyone to hold hands so as not to get lost as he guides you to the area where you would be staying.

Your father has rented a tent in a more private area of the place, and there are hardly any witches where you are. You like the silence, but you miss how much more fun the other place seems.

"The Rogers and the Barnes should be here by now I imagine." Your father comments as he waves his wand to open the cabin. You enter the room next, it is like a small winter home inside, very cozy.

"Yes, dad." Tony replies throwing his backpack on one of the couches. "I wrote Steve last night."

Howard grumbles in agreement, walking to the kitchen. You place your backpack on the floor next.

"Daddy, can I go look for Wanda and Pietro?" You ask and your father laughs, denying it.

"You didn't eat anything before you left, honey." He says turning around. "Eat something and then you can go look for them."

You grumble, but agree. While you are making some eggs, Steve's family arrives.

"Howard, you outdo yourself every year, my friend." Joseph Rogers comments as he enters the cabin. Your father smiles cheerfully as he hugs him in greeting, then greets Sarah, Steve's mother, with a kiss on the cheek. He ruffles Steve's hair and pats his arm, repeating the same gesture to Bucky, who follows behind.

" Is your father not here, James?" Howard asks next, and Bucky clears his throat.

"No, sir." He replies. "Since my sisters can't come, he took them to a music event in the muggle world. If you want my opinion, rock concerts are as cool as quidditch."

The comment makes Howard laugh in agreement, but Steve's family doesn't seem to understand very well.

Soon they were all around the room, talking animatedly about the most varied subjects. You exchanged a complicit look with Gamora and Nebula, and you took advantage of your father being involved in a conversation with Joseph to leave the cabin.

"Do you have any idea where Professor Lehnsherr has placed the tents?" Gamora asks you once you are outside and you look around.

"No." You reply. "Wanda just wrote that she and Pietro were going to be here too, but I don't even know if it's Magneto that's bringing them."

"We're just left to look then." Nebula concludes and you nod in agreement, starting to walk.

You walk back to the common tent area, looking around.

Gamora and Nebula are easily distracted by the amount of interesting things to see, and almost lose track of you when some witches from the Salem Institute hand them some exchange pamphlets.

It is only at the food stall that you finally find who you were looking for.

"My god, is that...?" You hear Gamora exclaim next to you in surprise. You know she was talking about Professor Lehnsherr, who is wearing jeans and a T-shirt and sunglasses and looks very well, and has a completely different posture than he usually has in class, but you are not looking at him anymore.

Your stomach is restless because you are looking at Wanda, wearing a black skirt with knee socks and boots, and a red jacket. She looks beautiful, and you are blushing.

Gamora waves to them from a distance, and it is Pietro who notices you guys first, waving back cheerfully while nudging Wanda on the shoulder. She blinks in confusion and then smiles when she sees you.

You think your legs have turned to jelly, but you continue walking toward her.

"It's so good to see you girls" Pietro exclaims happily as he hugs Gamora.

"Hi, Wanda." You greet with a half-hearted smile, but Wanda's face lights up and she jumps at you, hugging you tight, and making your heart soar. "It's good to see you too." You whisper humorously against her hair, and Wanda releases you with a reddened face, smiling widely.

"I missed you." She says to you shyly making you look away clumsily, but before you can add anything else, Pietro is greeting you as well, and Wanda does the same with your sisters.

"Hello everyone." Said a male voice next, and you stared at Professor Erik awkwardly. He didn't seem bothered by being approached by any of you, however, a hot dog in his hands.

"Hello, Professor Lehnsherr." You and your sisters said in unison, but the man had an almost friendly expression.

"Don't worry about being formal while we're here, girls." He says. "We're just sorcerers in here, looking for a little cheap entertainment."

You and Gamora exchange a look, not knowing exactly what to say next. Professor Erik sighs, and then looks at his children.

"You can go spend some time with the Starks, twins." He says making his kids let out excited exclamations. "Be back by the start time of the match, please. I don't want to lose sight of you in a place with so many people of unreliable origin."

You don't quite understand what "unreliable origin" means, but you don't question it, excited to spend some time with the Maximoffs.

After Erik gives them a few galleons to buy whatever snacks they want, you walk back to the cabin.

//-//

You spent the whole afternoon with all your friends in the cabin, playing magical games, practicing simple spells, and trying to guess the outcome of the match. When the first warning alarm sounded, you all let out a chorus of excitement.

You ran to your room, looking for the cheerleader accessories you had obtained, while ignoring the teasing Tony was throwing at you about the opponent team's sure victory.

He and the Rogers were all wearing blue and white scarves, bracelets and hats, which represented the colors of the Brooklyn Soldiers.

Your father was wearing a big red jacket with the symbol of a gold star, the team's mark. You gave him one of the buttons you brought.

Pietro was also rooting for the Soldiers, along with Nebula and Bucky, so you didn't try to lend any of your accessories to them.

Wanda was in the room when you put a blue scarf with gold accents around her neck.

"For you to support the team." You commented excitedly, without any idea that Wanda's flushed face was because the scarf smelled like you.

"Thanks." She said shyly, and you just nodded, holding some bottons on her shirt.

Gamora borrowed one of the hats you brought.

When you walked towards the stadium area, all the other spectators were leaving their tents and tents and going in the same direction, so the crowd was even bigger. You did your best not to get lost.

Once inside the iron structure, you felt someone nudge your shoulder.

"Pietro and I need to find Dad." Wanda said and you waved, but then frowned, nodding back.

"I think he found you first." You comment while watching Erik look at you as he enters the same iron corridor. He looks at your family and friends next for a moment, his expression serious. "See you after the game, right?"

"Of course." Wanda smiles before touching your arm lightly. You still feel the touch many moments later.

//-//

The match is absolutely incredible. It is even better because the guardians win with a remarkable difference when catcher Jean Gray captures the Snitch after the second half, the stadium vibrating in celebration.

It's a complete mess after that. There are fireworks, and a lot of noise. Even though they lost the match, all the Brooklyn Soldiers fans are so impressed with the incredible match that they join the celebrations.

You stumble out of the stadium between laughter, Gamora's arm around your shoulders as she laughs at the dance that your father and Joseph are doing on the way back.

Fans of the Guardians continued to light the celebratory fireworks, and there was a huge fireworks scarlet dragon streaking through the skies above your heads.

Your dad and the Rogers family go back to the cabin while you stay outside with Bucky and your friends, wanting to enjoy the rest of the fireworks display. You also want to see Wanda again.

"The Guardians are very excited, aren't they?" Bucky comments with a laugh, noticing an increase in the volume of the crowd's screams. You laugh and you look at the sky again.

When you blink, there is an explosion noise in the distance, so muffled by the other sounds that it makes you confused. Your friends don't seem to have heard, and you step forward, watching the crowd closely.

You see a lot of people laughing, and dancing, and it takes a minute for you to also notice those who are running.

"Guys." You call in confusion, and Gamora who was closest to you turns around with curiosity. "I think there is something wrong."

Another explosion occurs and this time everyone listens. The crowd in front seems to gradually realize that there is something wrong going on. And then the firework dragon in the sky is fading, considerably dimming the lighting.

Your father came out of the hut the next moment, a concerned look on his face, and the wand in his hands.

You feel a panic rising in the pit of your stomach when people start running and screaming, and you notice spells being cast from a distance. You were thinking it might be some kind of cheering team fight, but the possibility is completely ruled out when you notice the masked men in the crowd.

"Get your things now." Order your father out loud and then you are all moving back to the cabin, picking up all your belongings quickly. You hold the backpack tightly against your shoulders when you go out again, complete chaos around you. Your father, Joseph and Sarah lead you among the people, shouting that you need to get back to the portkey. You gasp in surprise when you feel a twinge behind your eyes, and you are struck by a vision of a forest. This little delay is enough to make you stay behind and lose sight of your family.

But you are not looking for them anyway. Your feet are spinning in the opposite position, and you are pushing people to run. You need to find Wanda.

//-//

You end up at the end of the camp, the tents far behind you. The sound of confusion drowned out by the distance. Feeling a new stab of pain in the head, your knees give way and your body lowers, while you raise your hands to your face, immediately being hit by a vision. This time you see a shadow of a tall figure, perhaps a man, standing in front of you. There is a metallic taste of blood in your mouth, and you want to get away, but there is something holding you back. When you blink, you're back the end of the camp.

You don't understand what's going on, and there is a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness in your chest, but you keep walking, crossing the magical chain and moving into the forest. You fall to the ground on your knees a moment later, intense pain all over your body. Gasping, you look up, only to see a green light form in the sky.

At first you thought it might be fireworks, but it was magic. The symbol of a hydra conjured in the clouds was beginning to move, and your entire body weighed.

You looked down, and your eyes caught a figure in the woods. It was a man, but he was too far away and you couldn't see his face. He had his wand raised to the sky, clearly being responsible for conjuring it up. Your head started to spin in pain, and you rested your hands on the ground to try to normalize your breathing, and then the man looked at you.

You felt your heart race when he started walking towards you, but then there were screams and footsteps, and he ran. A moment later, your father was kneeling beside you.

"Darling! Are you okay?" He asked worriedly raising his hands to your face looking for bruises. You sighed, still in pain. Only when the aurors of the ministry of magic raised their wands to the sky and made the mark disappear, you feel your body relieve immediately.

"I saw a man." You confessed breathlessly, and your father looked at you with confusion. But the wizards of the ministries seemed quite interested.

"Where, child?" Asked one of the aurors, you gasped slightly, feeling your body tremble a little.

"He went in that direction." You say pointing. "He was the one who conjured."

The woman nodded in understanding, and left after whistling for the rest of the Aurors to follow her. Your father helped you to stand.

"Honey, listen to me carefully." He said in a mixture of concern and seriousness. "Don't tell anyone about this."

“What, daddy? I don't.."

"Honey, please." He interrupts by stroking your cheeks with his thumb. “I will explain everything to you, I promise. But this needs to stay between us. You can't tell anyone what you saw in the sky.”

You swallow dry, but agree. Your dad doesn't let go of your hand all the way back to the portkey, and when you rejoin your friends again, you lie and say you just got lost in the food stall area after he gives a little grip on your fingers.

//-//

Your father doesn't explain anything to you.

When you return home, he receives urgent howlers from the ministry, and then he returns to the ministry of magic.

You are walking around the kitchen, outraged that you were prevented from looking for Wanda on your way out of the stadium and you have no idea if she is okay.

"What if the Maximoffs have a phone?" You grumble to yourself, but then you remember that you don't even have the number. You press your hands to your face, trying to calm yourself down. Wanda was fine. She had to be.

Gamora and Nebula are sitting on the couch, discussing something with each other, looking concerned. Tony locked himself in the room after Howard refused to tell him what was going on.

You don't understand why you have this horrible feeling in your chest, and you can't stop wondering if Wanda is okay, and then you support your hands on the table, trying to normalize your breathing and stop yourself from crying.

"Hey, breathe." You are almost startled by the voice at your side. Gamora touches your back tenderly, and you shake your head, feeling the tears flow. "She's fine, you need to breathe."

"You don't know that." You snap out of breath, and then Gamora puts her hand on your shoulder, asking you to look at her.

“We met Erik on the way out while you got lost. They left before you came back. ” She tells and you blink confused. “Wanda is safe. Breathe."

You gasp, and then your body relaxes as if a weight has been lifted off your back. Gamora looks at you with a mixture of concern and confusion, but you sigh, hugging her in appreciation.

"Thank you." You whisper against her hair. "I should have asked."

When you let go, she still looks at you with concern.

"Yeah, I know." She says assessing her face. "You should have asked how anyone else would do it."

You frown, not understanding what she is saying. But she still looks at you, suspicious.

“It looks like you were barely listening to us when your dad brought you back. And then I find you like that, and one word is enough to get you back to normal. ”

"What do you mean, Gamora?"

"I'm worried about you." She says. "I don't know what it is, but there is something strange about the way Wanda affects you."

You change the weight of your feet, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's talking about you not being able to bewitch Wanda." Nebula adds by getting up and walking over to you. You blink confused, ready to say that story was too old, but the girl is not intimidated. "She's talking about the way you behave around her."

"I don `t…"

"It's not just about liking someone." Nebula interrupts and you feel your cheeks heat up. "Gamora thought it was because you are in love, but that seems like something else."

Something in your stomach falls. You gasp in surprise.

"I'm not i-in love!" You exclaim with a racing heart. "I'm not…"

Gamora sighs impatiently, messing with hair. And trying to calm you down, she puts her hands on your shoulders next.

"Listen to me, okay?" She asks. "There's something weird about the way you care about Wanda. We don't know what it is, but you need to admit that you can see that too."

Facing your friend back, it takes a moment while you think of your words, for you to speak again.

"I saw a mark in the sky." You confess, deciding to disobey your father. Gamora blinks in confusion, and you clear your throat before you clear up everything that happened. Her hands fall off your shoulders when she opens her eyes wide for your confessions.

"Are you sure it was a hydra?" Nebula asks seriously and you wave.

"Do you know what that means?" You ask, and the girls exchange a look, but before they say it, you hear another voice.

"It is the Mephisto mark."

You get scared of Tony coming down the stairs, his gaze on you as he walks over to where you are. He folds his arms when he reaches you.

"Which means death walkers are back."

"Tony ..."

"You said you saw a wizard." He interrupts seriously. "Do you have any idea who it is?"

"No." You embarrassingly deny it, feeling your stomach sink with the look Tony is giving you. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You are the one who's been weird." He replies. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on."

"What did you mean by that?"

"What did you see in your head?" He counters with another question and you start to get angry at the way he is behaving, but tell him anyway. Tony sighs impatiently, turning in the opposite direction. He circles the room for a few moments before speaking again. “Daddy is never going to let us get involved in this. Especially now that you are having visions in your head. ”

"I still haven't told him about it." You grumble and Tony looks at you in surprise.

"Then don't say anything."

"What?" You exclaim with a frown in confusion. "What you mean? I need to say. I have to find out what it is. ”

Tony laughed incredulously.

"You still don't get it, do you?" he retorted. "Dad won't tell us anything. He didn't tell us about being an Auror, or about being friends with Professor Lehnsherr. He didn't even bother to try to understand why you can't bewitch Wanda!" Tony squirms angrily, and you shrink your body to the pitch of his voice. But he sighs, running his hands through his hair, and softening his expression. "I'm sorry, I'm not angry with you. It's just... I don't like being lied to."

You looked away, feeling tired. All this talk was making your head hurt, and the previous events had affected you more than you would like to admit.

"I don't know what we can do about this." You say. "I don't understand what's going on, and Dad would be the first person I would ask something, but he's not willing to help us. I feel like I'm at a dead end."

Tony lifts his arm to your shoulder, trying to reassure you.

"Hey, don't be so concerned about it." He says. "I'll find out what I can, and well, we're going back to Hogwarts next week. You and Wanda can try to figure out what this connection is about, while I try to figure out what's going on at the ministry."

You nod in agreement and Tony smiles, hugging you briefly. You hope that despite everything, you will have a quiet year at Hogwarts.

//-//

The Maximoffs are not on board the Hogwarts express.

You are in the same cabin as your friends, squeezed in because not everyone can fit in there, and you take several turns with Peter and Darcy in turn to sit down, while you are spread out in the corridor.

"No sign of Wanda, huh?" Gamora asked as she saw you looking around the hallway for the tenth time while you were standing outside the cabin, listening to Mantis tell you about her summer from inside.

"No." You reply. "I talked to her Slytherin colleagues, but none of them were very happy to tell me anything. Wanda didn't say anything in her last letter."

"Maybe she will arrive in a flying car, I hear they are popular." She jokes, making you laugh briefly. You can't ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach, and you sigh. Gamora places her hands on your shoulders. "Let's find something to distract you, okay? How about some explosive snap?"

//-//

Laughing at Quill's joke about the last statement in the Daily Prophet, as you walked off the train with the rest of your friends toward the castle.

A chorus of excitement coming from some students ahead of you caught your and your friends' attention, who looked in the direction curiously.

"Is that a ship?" You heard someone ask as they pointed in the direction of the lake.

There was a large old ship, right in the center, coming toward the castle. Everyone looked on excitedly.

"Students, please continue toward the castle!" Drax loudly commanded the crowd, and the students exchanged nervous whispers, all extremely curious to know who was coming to the castle. You swapped a glance with Gamora before following the crowd.

//-//

Already seated at the Hufflepuff table, you startled slightly when Mantis touched your hand.

"Calm down, you're making it snow." She asked gently. You shook your head, realizing the cloud you had accidentally conjured up above you. You had been so nervous the last few minutes, which only got worse when your gaze failed to find Wanda at the Slytherin table, and to no avail was the look of reassurance Gamora threw at you when she said she would ask her colleagues about her over dinner. As soon as you sat down at the Hufflepuff table, you played with your wand between your fingers, and before you knew it, it was snowing.

"Sorry about that." You mumble clumsily, putting your wand back away. Mantis is not angry, her look is one of concern.

"I'm sure everything is fine with Wanda." Mantis says to you, and you sigh, running your hand through your hair.

"I think so too." You say. "I just don't know why I can't stop thinking about it."

"Y/N..."

You lost your attention completely on Mantis as your gaze reached the door of the hall just as you noticed the figures entering. Wanda and Pietro, walking hurriedly to the Slytherin table, being two of the last students to enter the hall before the door closed. You made mention of getting up, but Mantis held you by the shoulders.

You were about to complain, but she pointed in the direction of the teachers' table, and you rolled your eyes, because the welcoming speech was about to begin. Your gaze remained on Wanda, but she was looking straight ahead. The only good thing was that the feeling of worry in you diminished considerably now that you were seeing her.

"[...] and I am proud to tell you that a very special event will take place at Hogwarts this year: the Triwizard Tournament!"

You are startled slightly when Headmistress Harkness' words reach your ears at the same moment that the main hall explodes in hubbub. You lose sight of Wanda because people are moving excitedly, and Mantis is nudging you to look forward.

It is only now that you notice the large stone globet and the blue flame displayed in front of the bench. You blink in surprise, feeling your face flush because you spent all the minutes of the speech staring at Wanda without realizing it.

Then the principal speaks again.

"Of course, the ministry has determined rules for the safety of the students." She recounts. "No student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to participate in the tournament, in addition to the dueling rules..."

The principal's speech was drowned out by the chorus of protests from the younger students, especially those in the fifth and sixth grades. You raised your eyebrow slightly, because you noticed that your brother was one of the boys who was shouting in annoyance.

Agatha then made a stern expression, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted, and it took only a few moments for the hall to become completely silent, and for her to smile again.

"Note that the other participating schools will be staying with us this year." She continues her speech. "Please welcome the students from Durmstrang Institute."

The doors to the main hall opened again, and a small crowd of students wearing thick winter coats entered. A tall, shabby-looking man with a scar over his right eye was at the front, guiding the students.

"Agatha!" Greeted the man with open arms as he reached the headmistress. Agatha smiled as she hugged him, and you tried to get a look at the new folks, as did the rest of the school, who were looking excitedly at the crowd. You let out a surprised exclamation when you recognized one of the faces. Your classmates also seemed to realize who it was, because many whistles and comments were heard.

"That's Jean Grey, isn't it?" Peter Parker asked sitting next to you. When you confirmed it, he widened his eyes. "Wow, I didn't know she was still in school."

"She's the youngest catcher of the century, Parker." You commented with a smile.

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" He retorted, and you made a noise of agreement.

The students reached the front of the hall next.

"It's good to have you here, Yondu." Said the headmistress. "How was the trip?"

"Wet and noisy, woman!" Rebutted the man humorously. He didn't seem too excited to greet any other teachers, focused only on the woman in front of him. Agatha looked at the students next.

"Please feel free to join any of the empty seats, all the houses were honored to accommodate you." She warned the students, but they only moved after Yondu waved lightly at them.

You bit the inside of your cheek, noting that almost everyone sat down at the Slytherin table. Yondu joined the students next, not failing to take a good look at the goblet before sitting down.

Agatha looked down the hall again.

"Let us also welcome our honored guests from Beauxbatons."

The students at Beauxbatons' institute seemed nicer the first moment you saw them, but as soon as you noticed the way their cloaks were bewitched to land gracefully on the floor as they moved, you figured they must be the kind of people who wouldn't be happy with Hogwarts' cleaning schedule.

The principal of Beauxbatons was a tall, stout woman, very beautiful. She had a crown on her head, and you wondered if the people of Beauxbatons were royalty in some way.

"Ovette, it is an honor to have you with us." She greeted Principal Agatha, but unlike before, her smile was cold, almost fake. The other woman didn't seem happy to be there either, but returned the greeting in the same formality.

The Beauxbatons students sat down at Gryffindor's table, and you giggled when Quill grimaced at you from his table as one of the boys sat down next to him.

Suddenly you felt very hungry. And dinner didn't disappoint.

"I think you'd better wait to talk to Wanda tomorrow," Mantis remarked next to you as soon as you finished eating. You frowned, looking at her.

"Why?"

"Professor Lehnsherr has been staring at the Slytherin table like he's going to cast a good behavior spell at them the entire dinner." She counters as she looks at the teachers' table. You look just in time to catch Erik with a stern look toward the students who were talking loudly on the end before he went back to eating his potato salad.

"Maybe he just expects better behavior while we have guests here." You comments, glancing back to the Slytherin table. Wanda's gaze has not searched for yours all dinner, and you are starting to get annoyed by this.

"If you're going to risk it, I suggest you do it before curfew." Mantis quips as she looks down at her own lap. Groot is trying to steal her piece of chicken, and she smiles as she hands him a loaf of bread.

You look around. All the students are sitting at their respective house tables, and despite the loud buzz of conversation, no one is standing. You know that if you stood up, and walked to the other side of the room, everyone would look at you. Sighing in annoyance, you rest your face on your hand and your elbow on the table, giving up on talking to Wanda during dinner.

When dessert arrives, you become distracted.

//-//

Your best idea is to catch up with Wanda at the end of dinner, but you frown when she doesn't get up from the table along with the other students. The next moment, Professor Erik is joining her, and the crowd of Hufflepuff students pushing you out makes you lose sight of her.

You mumble softly to yourself when you have to go back to the dormitory, and Mantis gives you a short smile, equally annoyed by your nervousness.

//=//

You tried to sleep. Maybe at some point you did.

After you went back to the dorm with everyone else, put on your pajamas and turned off the lights, you think you fell asleep almost immediately. But there was no rest.

The minute you fell asleep, you were somewhere else, fully conscious.

It looked like a graveyard, and there was a lot of smog. You turned over, feeling breathless, and saw a red light, maybe it was a spell. The next moment you woke up, panting, opening your eyes and immediately sitting up in bed. Surprised at the amount of sweat on your shirt, you frowned.

The dormitory was completely dark, and everyone was sleeping around you. You felt thirsty, and as you tried to understand exactly what you had dreamed, you left the room.

The rest of the common room was also empty, and you sighed as an idea crossed your mind. Biting your lips, you shook your head. No, you were not going to sneak through the dormitory into the Slytherin hall, because that was absolutely against all the rules, and more importantly, it would be weird.

Ignoring the sudden urgency you felt to follow your idea, you forced yourself back to your dormitory, hoping that you would be able to sleep again.

//-//

The next day, you had no need to look for Wanda, because she found you first.

As soon as you left for breakfast, accompanied by Mantis, you gasped in surprise as you felt some jump on you just before the entrance to the main hall.

"I missed you." Wanda sighed as she wrapped her arms around your neck. Some students looked at you curiously, but you didn't mind, circling Wanda's waist to return the hug.

"I missed you too." You retorted by hiding your face in her neck, feeling your whole body relax with the scent of her perfume.

But a sound of someone clearing their throat broke the moment, and Wanda turned away from you, her cheeks flushed.

"You saw each other last week." Pietro teased with a slight frown on his forehead. He didn't press the matter, however, greeting you afterwards.

You made your way to the Slytherin table, your newly awakened friends looking sleepy as they lazily enjoyed their breakfast.

After greeting everyone, you sat down next to Gamora, who was looking at the daily prophet.

"Not a word about what happened in the Quidditch world cup" She commented indignantly. The group shared the same reaction. "All the news is about the triwizard tournament being held at Hogwarts."

"Maybe they don't want to cause a panic." Quill then reasoned. You knew that he, as well as Mantis, only knew about what happened in the cup because of the letters you and Gamora sent.

"It just seems like they are hiding the truth." Gamora retorts without taking her gaze off the paper. You glance at the figures moving around before turning your attention back to your coffee.

"Clearly corrupt wizarding ministry matters aside, is anyone here going to try to sign up for the tournament?" Quill asked next, causing you to frown as Nebula and Gamora gave a giggle.

"No one here is of age." You comment with confusion, but Quill gives a wry chuckle.

"You Hufflepuff people are adorable." He teases making you laugh. He stretches his arms out to Pietro and Monica's shoulders next as he is sitting between them. "My Gryffindor buddies have found the perfect solution to solve this problem."

You look at the three of them curiously. Gamora rolls her eyes, and turns her attention back to the cereal.

"Let me guess, aging potion?" Nebula then suggests, and Quill lets out an impressed exclamation.

"Look at you Nebula, who would have guessed? I'll make a troublemaker out of you yet." He jokes, but Nebula just raises her middle finger at him, making the rest of the table laugh.

You are slightly distracted because Wanda asked you to pass the jelly to her and your fingers brushed against each other, and you had to keep it together, unaware because the sensation spread a tingle across your skin, so you are startled when Quill lets out an excited exclamation next.

"I just remembered!" He says. "I didn't complain enough about the cancellation of the Quidditch cup between the houses. I was sure Gryffindor would win this year."

Wanda lets out a wry chuckle, and Quill makes a mocking face at her, tossing a piece of bread in her direction.

You like to see your friends like that, playing with each other. The next moment, Mantis asks how Quill intends to get past the goblet spells to put his name on it, and the boy spends the next few minutes arguing that the aging spell is enough to break the enchantment, and your friends seem happy to argue with him about it.

//-//

You're not sure how you're going to tell Wanda that you need to talk to her about the events of the vacations, and the cup, and well, your connection to her, so you ignore the suggestive look Gamora throws at you after coffee and decide to put it off for as long as you can.

Your classes seem to have gotten even harder and more boring, but you struggle. It's even trickier to pay attention when the whole school is excited about the triwizard tournament, and there' a lot of noise between and during the classes, after a while, the teachers give up on calming the moods.

Without Quidditch, you have free periods, and you use this time to spend with your friends, either playing witch chess or explosive snap, or even getting some practice with your broom.

The foreign students get more comfortable as time goes on. You would think that they would be sleeping in one of the dormitories, but they are staying on the ships and in the carriages that they have come on.

The only times you got a glimpse of Beauxbatons' carriages was on the way to the class on the Tract of Magical Creatures, and you weren't the only one trying to get a better look, but the guardian Drax was quick to scare off any curious people who got too close.

With three weeks of classes, the atmosphere at Hogwarts had changed a lot. You knew it was because the date for choosing champions was approaching, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath about it.

Pietro and Quill actually proceeded with the idea of trying to fool the goblet with an aging potion. You and the girls joined them in the room where the magic object had been placed, and witnessed them try. And fail miserably. Wanda was worried that Pietro had been hurt when he was thrown across the room trying to get through the protective circle, but as soon as she saw his aged face, she laughed, and all the girls followed her.

Pietro and Quill were annoyed for three seconds before they began to laugh as well.

You fell silent the next moment, however, because Jean Grey entered the room accompanied by Headmaster Youndu, both of whom looked at you all reproachfully.

Jean placed a piece of parchment in the flame, and you all watched with some admiration as the goblet accepted her inscription.

The small admiring smile you had on your lip completely disappeared when Jean looked at Wanda on her way out, her gaze flashing in a way that made your stomach turn the wrong way.

When Pietro started talking about how amazing it was to have a famous player at school, you didn't feel excited about the idea anymore.

//-//

After your double period of potions on Thursday the last week of September, you could practically catch the anxious tension of your classmates in the air.

At dinner that night, the school champions would be chosen and even you, who were more concerned about the lack of news from home and the way Tony was clearly avoiding your presence, were curious to know who would be chosen.

The Goblet of Fire had been moved to the center of the main hall and you joined the Hufflepuff table with Mantis, noticing the warning look that Headmistress Okoye cast at anyone who was not behaving in the most chivalrous manner possible, but you didn't remark on it, noticing the wizards wearing formal attire at the teachers' table, probably being employees of the Ministry of Magic and reporters for the Daily Prophet.

A characteristic buzz was going on among the students, but the room fell silent as the students from the other schools entered the hall together with their principals.

When Headmistress Agatha began the selection ceremony, everyone seemed to hold their breath.

"[...] Tonight the goblet will choose the one who is worthy to represent their schools in the triwizard tournament. The ceremony of choice begins now." She gracefully presents, wand in hand. Agatha touches the tip of the goblet next, and the flame on the top changes to red briefly, expelling a piece of parchment through the air. Agatha catches the item between her fingers. "The champion of Durmstrang is Jean Grey."

The room erupts in applause and tears of celebration. You clap happily too, completely forgetting about that day in the hall. You knew that Jean had become quite popular among the Hogwarts gossips, especially since she is already a celebrity, so the reaction of your classmates was not a surprise to you.

You and the rest of the students watched as she accepted the parchment from Agatha before greeting the ministry wizards, and then walked into the small door behind the teachers' desk. As she left, everyone was silent again.

Principal Harkness repeated the wand movement on the goblet, and the flames turned blue again. She paused briefly before announcing the next champion.

"Beauxbatons' champion is Maria Hill!"

You watch a very elegant girl get up from one of the front seats and walk in the same direction as Jean amidst the applause. The commotion is a little less than Grey's, but you know that it is only because Grey was famous.

A moment later it is the turn of the Hogwarts champion, and you are much more excited for this.

Agatha also seems more excited about this, a small smile escaping her lips before she repeats the wand movement.

When the parchment falls into her hands, she reads it aloud.

"The champion of Hogwarts..." She begins and her expression falls, her frown frowning. The brief suspense only makes everyone even more anxious. "Wanda Maximoff."

The crowd's reaction is remarkably different from the other champions; the hall explodes into a buzz of accusations of cheating, pointing out that Wanda was underage, and even snide remarks about a Slytherin representing the school, but you were barely listening. A wave of preoccupation takes over your body completely, and you look around the table for Wanda, but she is already standing up, her chin held high despite all the negative comments. She accepts the parchment Agatha hands her and heads in the same direction as the other champions.

Harkness makes another movement with her wand and the flame from the goblet goes out. In the next second she is leaving the room, being escorted by the other directors and the ministry officials to the Hall of Champions. As soon as the door closes, the hall explodes in agitated hubbub, and many people stand up.

As the teachers call for calm, especially for the Gryffindor students who accuse the Slytherin of cheating, you and Mantis stand up and join your friends.

"I can't believe that just happened." Gamora comments as soon as you reach her, as impressed as she is concerned.

Your gaze searches for Pietro however, and he looks upset.

"Comrade, your sister is the champion of Hogwarts! She managed to do what we were trying to! Why the long face?" Quill asked his friend excited and confused, but when he went to hug Pietro, he pulled away, an angry grimace on his face.

"I can't believe Wanda kept this from me." He grumbled, you and your friends looked at him in surprise.

"Come on Pietro, maybe she didn't think it would work and didn't want to say anything." Quill suggested but the boy shook his head.

"No you don't get it." He retorts. "She absolutely could not have risked doing something like that."

And then he turns away, and heads for the teachers' table. You and your friends are left with puzzled expressions, but upon noticing that he looked like he was going to be talking to his father for quite some time, you return to your conversation.

"I can't believe Wanda didn't tell anyone about putting in the name on the goblet, that's incredible." Quill adds. Nebula begins to argue how dangerous it was for someone without enough magical acquaintance to be in such an ordeal, and your stomach does a turn. You walk away from the conversation, heading toward the group of Tony's friends who were standing a few feet away from you.

"Hey, your friend just caused a stir around here." Tony jokes as soon as you reach him.

"I noticed it." You retort as you spot Professor Strange separating with a spell a student who jumped on top of another. "Everyone is talking about how dangerous it is for her to participate, can you tell me anything good about it?"

Tony laughs at the desperation in your voice.

"I figure eternal glory and the thousand-gallon prize is the good part." He teases, and you run your hands through your hair, trying to ignore the urge to go into that little room and find out if Wanda is okay. Tony assumes a serious expression next, and lowers his tone, not that it was necessary, since everyone seems wrapped up in their own conversations. "You also find it strange that this happens after what happened at the cup, don't you?" He asks and you nod. Tony sighs. "Maybe this is a good time for you to talk to Wanda, little sis. About how you feel about her. And well, maybe as you help her practice for the tournament, you guys can figure out what that connection means."

You nod, feeling your cheeks warm. It was still strange how all your friends knew about the way you cared for Wanda.

You wanted to ask Tony if he had found out anything since you last talked properly, but Professor Strange ordered everyone back to their dormitories the next moment, and after Tony messed up your hair, you turned and headed toward the Hufflepuff students who were leaving the hall.

//-//

There was no way you could sleep without talking to Wanda, so you risked an detention by sneaking out of the dorm after curfew. Mantis grumbled at you to be careful before turning over in her sleepy state, making you laugh softly.

You used a simple invisibility spell on yourself, not so strong that you were completely invisible, but enough to blend into the shadows of the castle as you descended back into the dungeons. Hogwarts was, yes, very scary at that time.

The board at the entrance was sleeping, and after removing the invisibility spell, you poked it with your wand to wake it up.

"What, what is that?" Complained the irritated painting, looking around and acquiring an angry expression when he noticed you.

"I'm sorry. Keep your voice down please." You asked. "I need to get inside."

The painting looked at you suspiciously.

"I have seen you here before, but you are not from the honorable house of Slytherin."

"That is not your problem, Mr. Talos." You retort impatiently. "Just let me in. The password is Polyjuice Potion."

"Your friends will get in trouble if they keep sharing their password with you." Warned the painting before moving, giving you passage to enter.

"Thank you, Mr.Talos." You said with slight irony, walking into the dormitory.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked around at the empty environment. You were used to the place, but it was still creepy when poorly lit like this.

"We don't like intruders." Spoke a voice in the corner of the room, making you jump in fright.

"Damn, Nat, you scared the hell out of me." You complained, putting your hand to your chest and feeling your heart racing. The girl giggled, closing the book in her hand and standing up in your direction.

"Why are you here?" she asked with her arms crossed.

You gave her a lopsided smile.

"I came to check on Wanda, of course."

Nat narrowed her eyes at you.

"Why?"

"Why?" you retort after a short laugh. "Because she has just been chosen for the deadliest competition in the wizarding world, and everyone in this place wants to remind me of it!" You exclaim, and can't stop yourself. "I heard a girl say in the hallway that the tournament was banned for the number of deaths! Did you know that? Yeah, neither did I. And well, I can't sleep, because I keep thinking that something like that might happen to Wanda. And when I think about it, I can't breathe and I..."

"Stark, breathe!" Natasha interrupts you with concern, placing her hands on your shoulders. You gasp slightly, realizing that your eyes are filled with tears as you notice your vision blurring. You sigh, trying to normalize your breathing as you force a smile and wipe your face. "God, what was that all about?"

"It was nothing." You grumble. "I'm just worried."

Natasha doesn't buy your excuse, though.

"Tony told me about what happened in the cup." She says as she lowers her arms. You look at her in surprise. "He also told me about how connected to Wanda you have been feeling. I just didn't imagine that you would almost have a little tantrum at the possibility of her getting hurt."

You feel your cheeks flush, looking away to your shoes.

"I didn't have a tantrum."

"Nearly." She teases, but you don't laugh, feeling your stomach churn. Nat looks at you seriously next. "Wanda's not here."

You raise your head in surprise.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know." She replies. "Believe me, you weren't the only one who tried to talk to her. The whole dorm was wanting to know how she tricked the goblet, but no one has seen her since the selection."

You feel your heart soar, and seeing the way you react, Nat raises a hand to your arm again.

"Hey, try not to think about it so much." She says. "Maybe she's with her father. I imagine it's been quite a commotion that a minor has swindled the goblet, and the ministry must be trying to decide what to do. She must be in the teachers' dormitory, she is still a child after all."

"Wanda is already fifteen." You grumble.

"Yes, and I'm sixteen. We're all kids, Y/N." She retorts. "I don't think Professor Lehnsherr was going to leave his daughter alone at such a time."

You sigh, nodding in agreement.

"Try to get some sleep, will you?" Nat asks next. "I'm sure Wanda will talk to you tomorrow. And well, I think she's going to need her best friend to not sleep through the conversation."

"Wanda said I'm her best friend?"

Nat laughs at the way you talk, probably sounding like a lovesick puppy.

"God, you two are a disaster." She comments before waving you toward the exit. You bid her goodnight and thank her before walking back to your dorm.

//-//

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

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Hello! First of all I have to say that your writing is the best I have read so far and you have a way with words that has me going crazy at 3 am 🤣🤣 I wanted to suggest a short story where Levi and the reader have feelings for each other and are on a mission together. Then it starts to rain and it gets really cold at night so they’re forced to seek shelter and have to spend the night together in an abandoned old house until the rain stops, and they basically get to know each other better and eventually start flirting ya know ya know? 😗Thank you so much and please feel free to add any more ideas you may have 😁

ahhh the classic, stuck with a stranger trope. I dig it :)

Summary: You spend a rainy night with your bitter captain

Word Count: 1.8K

The rain felt like needles as you rode into the wind, your cloak felt heavy and waterlogged as you struggled to see through the shower. You had lost your squad, leaving you alone in the middle of titan country. Your gear felt light, meaning that your blades were nearly gone and gas as well. In other words, you were royally fucked.

Your horse was huffing, sides rising and falling deeply as she tried to hold the pace you had set. Her head bobbed and you threaded your fingers through her mane and stood on the saddle to ease the weight on her back, and allow her to resume her natural gait.

Just as you emerged from the thin thicket of trees you had been riding in, you spotted a small cabin, and a black horse tied up out front. You recognized Captain Levi’s stallion and felt relief flood through you. You steered your mare towards the squat building and swung off once she came to a halt. Tying her up next to Levi’s stallion before jogging up the stairs. You lifted your hand and pounded on the door, a flash of lightning illuminated your form when Levi pulled the door open. His hair was dripping wet as was his clothes.

“Cadet (L/n), surprised you made it this far.” He scoffed before turning and stalking back into the cabin.

“Captain....the formation is broken.” You stated the obvious, unsure of how to respond to his jab.

“No shit, this damn rain fucks with the signals. Seen it before.” You almost weren’t sure if he even said the last part since he muttered it so quietly.

“So what do we do?” You asked, clutching your cloak anxiously.

“We wait it out idiot.” Levi grunted as he began rummaging around the small cabin’s kitchen drawers.

“What...about the formation?”

“The formation doesn’t exist anymore, what matters now is getting back to the wall.”

You remained silent, stunned by the gravity of the situation you’d found yourself in.

“Shitty eyebrows needs to stop putting the fucking formation on a pedestal, you brats need to learn how to act at your own discretion.” Levi continued as he pawed through a drawer, he pulled his hand out holding two stones. Flint, to be precise, he had already taken some of the firewood that had been sitting in the cabin and chucked it into the fireplace. You wondered how long it had sat there in the lonely cabin, who had gathered it? A child maybe? When you were younger, you had lived on a farm with your family, raising horses for the military. One of your many jobs had been to get firewood. You wondered what had happened to the people who lived here before, wondered if they could ever return.

“Oi, take off those boots. Just because nobody’s lived here in three years doesn’t mean you get to track mud inside.” He scolded and you quickly stripped yourself of your mud caked boots.

“Yes sir.” You grumbled as you numbly wandered into the kitchen, pausing when you found a small corn husk doll, very similar to the ones you once made. You picked it up, cradling its head as you held it up in the dim light. The sound of stones clicking and then the crackle of a small fire brought you back. You turned to see Levi hanging his cloak and jacket by the flames.

“Take off your cloak and jacket.” He ordered and you placed the doll down to fulfill his command. You shivered in just your shirt, which was soaked, the olive colored fabric nearly see through due to the wetness. Levi averted his eyes as he snatched your jacket and cloak from you. You dropped down to sit on the floor near the fire, staring into the flames as you allowed your mind to wander. Levi sat down as well, crossing his legs and closing his eyes as he tried to even out his breathing. The only sound was the crackling fire and the patter of rain on the old roof. You had nearly forgotten how it sounded, having lived in the castle for years now, the cozy cabin brought you back to your childhood. And before you could think better of it, you asked:

“Where are you from captain?”

“None of your concern.” He grunted, eyes still closed and face lacking any signs of emotion.

“Well, where I’m from, when it rained like this...we’d go outside and-”

“I didn’t fucking ask. Now shut up and go to sleep or something.”

“There’s no need to be so bitter Captain.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and angling your shoulders away from him, the sting of his words. You sighed heavily and fell flat on your back, staring up at the rafters, a drop of water seeped through and landed right on your nose and you let out a huff of disgust.

“....Look” Levi’s voice was heavy and less annoyed than previously.

“If talking...makes you feel better about all of this....then I guess I don’t mind listening.” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, bangs obscuring the top half of his face as he studied you, splayed out on the floor.

“....Thanks.”

“As I was saying, when I was younger, I used to be scared of thunder storms. But my grandma, she would make this cake. She called it thunder cake.” You closed your eyes and a dreamy smile curled onto your lips. Levi felt a pang of jealousy, being nearly 28, one would think that he could get over his childhood. But he just couldn’t seem to, he wished he grew up in the sunshine, known his family, gotten to be scared of thunder instead of men in the underground.

“-it wasn’t really anything special, just a lemon cake. But making it during the storm...she said it was magic, and you know.....I believed her.” Your voice cracked and Levi frowned, he remembered that naivety, how his mother would tell him about fairies or goblins. He had believed those stories for a time as well. But when she had died, he no longer saw beauty in the world. How could he?

“She was so smart Captain. She knew everything, how to treat a tooth ache, how to make the best bread, break a horse. I wish I could be half as wise as her.” You continued, Levi turned to look at you, your usually bright eyes seemed distant and foggy, mouth screwed into a frown, your bottom lip trembling.

“When she died, I felt so alone. I couldn’t compare, how could I? She was so strong and, I was just a shitty kid.” You scoffed bitterly, Levi understood your pain deeply, loosing people was something he was all too familiar with. He blindly reached out and let his hand awkwardly fall over your own. You froze, head turning to look at him.

“How about you? What did your...parent do to help you through the scary parts?” You asked, eyes wide and hopeful. Levi’s jaw locked as he tried to wrack his brain for something to say, you had just been so vulnerable with him. How could he not repay the favor? Especially if the two of you would die in this shitty cabin.

“She would....give me a bath, or we’d clean the house.” He said with a curt nod, remembering his mother pouring soapy water over him after he had scrapped his knee, or cried so hard that his eyes were nearly swollen shut. Yes, that was the truth, they would take a bath and then she’d tell him those shitty stories.

“That sounds nice.” You said wistfully as you turned your hand to lace your fingers with his. You sensed his tension and decided to carry on telling your own story.

“I hated cleaning, my grandma used it as punishment for me. Like when I was 10 I threw eggs at the neighbor boy after he lifted my skirt up.” You chuckled lowly at the memory.

“Sounds like he deserved it.” Levi said with the smallest of smiles. You beamed up at him and nodded.

“Yeah, he sure did. My grandma made me clean the coop for two weeks after that, and the stables.” You giggled, squeezing his hand as you laughed. He felt another wave of jealousy, wishing he had memories like yours.

“And you? Did you ever get in trouble?” You asked, rolling onto your side, pulling your hand free from his, he immediately missed the contact, not that he would admit it though.

“That’s all I did when I was younger.” Levi scoffed, looking down at you with a gleam of amusement in his gaze.

“What kind of trouble?” You pressed, resting your chin on your palm as you stared up at him.

“I bet it was with girls, you seem to be popular with the cadets.” You teased and Levi’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“No, more like I was stealing and selling government property illegally.” He scoffed, reaching his hand down to ruffle your damp hair, you let out a bark of laughter as he grabbed the roots of your hair and shook your head playfully.

“Yeah right, you’re the strictest of all the squad leaders, as if I would believe-”

“I grew up in the underground, didn’t matter down there, just did what I had to do to put food on the table.” He shrugged, trying to keep the atmosphere light, yet stay honest with you.

“No way....that’s impressive captain-”

“Levi, call me Levi.” He said, withdrawing his hand and leaning back against the couch that was behind the two of you.

“Okay then...Levi, I call bullshit.” You said, propping yourself up on your elbow and beaming up at him. Levi glared down at you, not sure if he liked the defiance or loathed it. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, but your eyes never strayed from his and he let out a scoff.

“It’s true, I was born a bastard and escaped through the military.” You raised your brows at this, you hadn’t expected him to be honest.

“I...admire you for that, takes a strong person to overcome things like that.” You said a tad sheepishly as you averted your gaze, feeling like you had overstepped some boundaries.

“We all face our own challenges..” Levi muttered, eyes still locked on you.

“That is true.” You agreed, with a small smile thrown his way. The rain still pounded against the windows and your gaze strayed to them, watching the water stream off of the roof.

“This will all be a bad memory in the morning.” Levi said, following your gaze, he recalled how you said you’d been afraid of thunder when you were younger. He wondered if you still harbored that fear.

“I don’t think it will, I hope I can look back on it fondly.” You said, turning and smiling softly up at him, and Levi’s stomach began doing flips, his cheeks flushing at the sentiment behind your words.

“Yeah....whatever, just go to sleep brat.” He grunted, reaching down and ruffling your hair once more, you giggled and laid down, soothed to sleep by the feeling of his hand in your hair and the sound of rain on window panes.

#levi #Levi fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #Levi x You #levi x y/n #levi x reader insert #reader insert #levi is soft for u #rainy night #aot fandom #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman #attack on titan

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brellhal96 · 3 years

Text

It’s... pretty complicated

Summary: College dramas in the life of a third-year student who decides to start, not a relationship, but something with a renowned professor.

Okay the GIF is not very related to the subject, but this man dressed in black has me at his feet.

Notes: This is quite cliché actually, but what does it matter, it is worth dreaming. It is planned to be written in several chapters, so the first is mostly to give context to the story, I hope you like it.

I base myself on Loki's physique, although I will mention Tom Hiddleston as the star of the scene, but my perfect image is in the essence of Loki in a black suit.

I study a completely different area to numbers and physics, don't be rigorous with me on the subject, only I think it an excellent area to show Loki's personality, I do not know why.

I will show at the beginning of the series a somewhat possessive relationship, but with the outcome I promise to shape this. It should be noted that not in a toxic sense.

I didn't mention a specific university, country, or geographic location.ical location.

It's the first time I've written anything obscene, I hope you like it.

Precautions: 18+, mention of fear or anxiety, unprotected sex, a relationship at the beginning somewhat possessive.

CHAPTER 1

I NEVER SAID I WASN'T INTERESTED.

Notes: Okay this chapter is kind of weird honestly, I didn't really put so much emphasis on the obscene, but I feel like it ended up fine, I hope you like it.

Word count: 6389

You had gotten used to the hot weather of the beginning of the year, in fact you had always preferred that climate. You spent the summer with your parents on a beach, sometimes you missed them too much, but your father's job and the university of your dreams were right at the opposite ends of the country. The first year was quite complicated, but then you got used to living alone, you actually lived two blocks from campus so your bike was the perfect means of transportation.

You made some friends here, Jared had become your best friend, his bond of trust scared you a bit as you could tell him anything without fear, but it was quite comforting to have someone like that by your side.

You had earned a scholarship for academic excellence, your studies were your priority since you were a child and you loved that. The only unpleasant thing about this scholarship is that it restricted your choice of teachers in half of your subjects since you were supposed to be with “teachers of excellence”.

When you compared your subject strip to Jared and Diane, they only shared one class the three of them together, Diane another, and Jared two more. In the end you weren't going to be alone in all the classes so that calmed you a little, studying physics wasn't so complicated, it was easy for you, but socializing wasn't much for you.

You went to building C, your first class was analytical mechanics and later thermodynamics, the teacher in the second was assigned to you by the institute, a Doctor Hiddleston, you've never heard of him, you just hoped it wasn't a headache. Your mechanics teacher was a love and with the first class you knew it was going to be one of your favorite subjects.

When you finished you went to your other class, you sat right in the middle in the third row, several were in groups apparently with their friends from previous years. You took your computer and got ready to take notes. Suddenly the door closed tightly and everyone sat a little scared.

A very good-looking man came in, tall, thin and dressed completely in black, I honestly he caused you curiosity why for some reason you felt that you had seen him before.

Without seeing the class began to write on the board quickly "I am Professor Tom Hiddleston and I will teach the subject of Thermodynamics" His voice was strong and deep and you immediately recognized it. You frowned when you remembered last year's science fair, you won first place in the area of electromagnetism prototypes against a fourth-year kid, which made you feel completely proud, yet two of the judges had not been what we call nice to the two.

When you remembered Professor Hiddleston's deep look at you that day, the judges asked random questions to the fourth-year kid and you, but apparently your future thermodynamics teacher was one of those who enjoyed making students nervous with difficult questions. His sidekick on that occasion was your freshman professor, analytic geometry, Professor Scott Lawford a fucking genius, you had cried with his subject, but passed with an A +.

They both enjoyed seeing the nerves invading you and your opponent, whispering to each other with their answers. At one point Professor Hiddleston asked you and you remember perfectly well that when you finished speaking he only looked at you and smiled mockingly for then wrote something on his ballot. In the end you won by three points of the total vote and the fourth year boy, currently fifth, became your friend, both came to the same conclusion, the two teachers were crazy.

He began to write down on the board the evaluation and the issues that are always mentioned at the beginning of the year. For a moment you panicked when he wrote that one of the exams was oral, you could not imagine the martyrdom he would create just to get a passing grade.

He took 20 minutes to explain and let us out to start the next class with the course. When you came out unintentionally you stared at him while he was erasing the blackboard, but apparently your look was uncomfortable enough for him that for a second he turn and he stared at you, you rushed out of the classroom after that. When you told Jared about this future journey that you had to go through you felt immense despair, but then you remembered that, if you could the previous years with teachers equal or worse to him, this was only one step more.

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The first three weeks of class were pretty normal, you made two more friends and breakfast in the cafeteria with Jared and Diane made you forget about the pressures of school, but just the moment you felt like you were fitting in perfectly with your new year, the thermodynamics class became strange.

The classes with Tom were very pleasant, he was kinder than his body language showed, only he was certainly of a very volatile character, there were days when he seemed angry and others when he seemed happy, it was weird, but it was even weirder that you were attracted to him.

Your previous class had lasted longer than expected and the teacher extended 5 minutes out of her time which translates into being late for thermodynamics. You panicked when you saw the locked door of the classroom, wondered if it was better not to enter the class and pretend a headache straight to the infirmary, but in the end you breathed for a second and you'd decided get ready to knock the door.

“Can I help you with something?"You had never noticed that he was quite tall, it was the first time you were quite close to him.

"Sorry my mechanics teacher accidentally spread...”

"You were able to leave her class to get to mine on time, don't you think?"His gaze was quite penetrating up close.

“I really sorry, won't happen again,” Your hands were shaking, but in reality, not for fear, but his presence so formal, so rigid and secure made you feel strangely attracted to him, when you thought that, you actually invaded the shame, how do you fall in love of a teacher as strange as him.

He just opened the door and walked aside to let you through. "I asked them to work in pairs, look for your partner and ask him to explain what I already explain”

On the board were written several formulas, you wondered how he managed in 7 minutes to score so much.

You asked several guys over there, but apparently the whole damn world already had a partner, in the end you decided to do it alone, you just hoped he wouldn't flunk you for it. A girl explained the instructions to you, apparently you had to pick up one of the sheets that the professor had placed on the desk and solve it with the formulas on the blackboard, you even had to sit up to the top rows because all the other seats were occupied.

You started cursing internally while taking one of the paper sheets from the desk. "Who are you going to work with?"The professor asked you without seeing you while making notes with a rather nice pen of Indian ink.

"I'll do it alone, I already asked ... ”

"Don't you understand what couples are?"He interrupted you and this time he gave you a rather intimidating gaze.

"Yes, but apparently all my companions already have one and I figured I could do it alone then" Your hands trembled again with the paper sheet between them.

"Who doesn't have a partner?"he looked back at his papers and yelled at the whole group. It was pretty funny for you because he himself proved you were right, no one was missing a partner. When he looked up and saw that no one answered he saw you again and then looked at the blackboard behind his back.

"Well, I'll do it with you then" He got up and brought a chair that was at the end of the living room for you right next to his desk.

For a moment you wanted to run out of there, you knew you shouldn't make a mistake or say something stupid because otherwise you'd die trying.

"Get your stuff and start working it out, just let me finish a few things. To be fair with your colleagues and with you I will let you do it alone and answer any doubts you have, because obviously I know how this is solved, but I also consider that it is a lot of work for one person, do you agree?" His gaze became a little kinder.

"Yes, thank you,” you smiled faintly, but felt an internal shock as he winked at you and continued to write with his fine pen. You sat right in the corner of his desk, they were just three problems but they really left you with little desire to live. The first one, you felt was quite easy to solve, even at one point you felt the professor's gaze on you when you were so focused on your operations.

"Don't you have any doubts?"His eyebrows were puckered and his gaze was no longer mocking but rather with bona fide interests.

"No, not really, well I go in the second exercise, possibly I do" You smiled as you watched your operations with inner pride.

"Can I see?"He extended his hand to give him the leaves you had carried until then. You gave them to him, just hoping he'd tell you you had everything terribly wrong.

As he watched your leaves you watched him, he was quite attractive now that you saw him without fear that he would not let you into class, his hair was dark and apparently a lover of black to wear, his eyes were cute and quite tender while they examined your answers.

"Go on, I don't want to confuse you” He put the paper sheets on the desk and saw you with a small smile on your lips as a sign that you were on the right track.

Just 10 minutes before the class ended you finished all three exercises, you had only asked him one question and it was about whether it was a 4 or a 9 in a formula that wrote the board, so you felt pretty happy that you did it alone.

"Ready" You smiled broadly, you were the first to finish and the only one who had done it alone.

"Are you sure?”

"Yeah, well, I hope it's not a 0 at the end of the day,” you laughed to yourself, and in the end you wondered if you had thought about it or said it.

”Then let's see " took his pen and began to review your work. You froze when you saw that he framed something in your results, but he didn't tell you anything. "Well, I really didn't expect less from the winner of last year's science fair, maybe punctuality, but what does it matter”

You smiled when you saw that your grade was an A, only that he kept the papers, apparently he had to register them on his lists or something. Just as you were about to get up to leave, he asked you to stay at the end of class.

You sat back in the seats vacated by the peers that have already gone, but for a second, remembered what you said I didn't expected less from the winner of the science fair last year, he remembered you, you know that he remembered you, sonreíste for yourself when thinking that.

When the whole room was half empty, he started putting away his things. ”Come with me, " he said as he walked out with a firm and fast pace, so much so that you had to walk faster than normal. You wondered where they were going, it was pretty strange since you'd never been through the labs where it went.

“I've noticed that you're pretty good in the area, actually amazing, I even remember your answers about your prototype against the fourth year kid, former student of mine, you were much better than his” he opened the door of one of the labs and with his arm gave you a signal to enter.

“Thank you, I actually always dreamed of doing this, " you said as you walked into the lab, quite big, you assumed they were the ones that grad boys used.

"I want to propose you something” You sat at one of the practice tables and he leaned with both hands on his desk. "Would you like to work with me on a project I have?, is related to thermodynamics”

For a second you saw him with an expression of if he was joking with you or if he was serious and he seemed to read your mind.

"It's seriously, I'm working on a model related to the second law" he approached you sitting in the chair in front of yours.

"I would love to then, but I do not know how I could be of help”

"In many things" he smiled

For a moment you wondered why suddenly the man who seemed bitter about life was being so kind to you.

“You do not have to tell me your answer now, I will send you the files I have of my progress by mail if you like and you could think about it”

"Sure, I will" You smiled and he too, for a moment everything was silent, somewhat uncomfortable to be honest but his look no longer caused you fear, but somehow attracted you to him.

It was quite strange because they both got up at the same time so you were right next to him and his height difference was no small one.

"Well I think I have to go, I'll see you the next class”

"Wait, I wanted to give you something that I kept here," he went to the back cellar of the lab and came back with a bun that said first place. "I'm sorry, I was supposed to give it to you that day you won, but I honestly didn't remember where I left it, so this belongs to you.”

When you saw the bun with your name on it, you were very happy. "I thought they didn't give anything," you laughed as you put it in your backpack.

"Yeah, excuse me, I tend to be a little clueless about those things.”

"No problem," you smiled and shyly walked out of the room.

The weekend you started to question why Professor Hiddleston made you feel so nervous, now you knew that you were one of his star students, to the degree that you could be his future colleague, but why couldn't you even hold his gaze? you know, for a moment you thought about flatly refusing his project if you couldn't even see it in the eyes, but after you thought about it, you figured it would possibly be a good idea, you could even learn more things by being his apprentice.

It was Monday's class, you didn't know why, but you were in the lab on Friday, apparently you were doing an experiment on the tables with some microscopes on. ”You did it " There was Professor Hiddleston next to you, his command was on your waist and suddenly he began to approach you to kiss you on the lips and it was even stranger because it was quite nice for you, to reciprocate.

Right then you woke up, you're fucking in love with your thermodynamics professor, "Excellent Y / N, that's all that was missing."

Monday's class didn't even look him in the eye and you sat up to the top rows, you felt pretty uncomfortable with yourself thinking of a teacher that way.

"Y / N wait" Just when class ended you rushed to pack your things and run out of the classroom, but it still didn't work. "Did you think about what I told you?"The professor actually looked pretty excited about his own project.

"Yes, I just wondered if the meetings or the times we work could be on Fridays, that would make things a lot easier for me" You said without seeing the professor in the eyes, it was somewhat uncomfortable after that strange dream of the weekend.

"Sure, then it's a deal,” he held out his hand as if they were going to close the deal with a strong squeeze.

"Deal" You shook his hand and when you saw him you felt that his look was not only kind, but he was actually trying to tell you something.

The classes went on normally, you felt a little excited being sincere that you went to work with the professor who was now at the same time your impossible love, but you had to be careful for him not to notice. They agreed to meet after your last class at the lab on Fridays, at 15:00 hours. You knew it wasn't right, but from the moment you were attracted to the professor every time you saw him, you started using lip gloss and curling your hair.

For several weeks they worked on their project, now you understood their sudden mood swings, it was quite frustrating to feel that you had advanced in something and then realized that something did not fit with the rest of the procedure.

One Friday when you arrived he was making notes on the blackboard, had taken off his coat and tie and folded the sleeves of his shirt in a way that looked spectacularly attractive.

"Y / N pass," he smiled when he saw you in the driveway. "Did you read the documents I sent you?"On Wednesday he sent you a very interesting document about some theories related to the project.

"Yes, I just made some notes from some parts that I honestly didn't understand" You left your backpack in one of the buckets at the ends of the room " I'm not very good at some things”

"Neither do I, but don't worry,” he winked at you and you felt like you were melting internally.

For an hour they tried to solve one of the most difficult equations within the theory they chose, it was quite fun as sometimes you would collapse and sometimes he, but both tried to cheer up so as not to erase the whole slate of despair.

”Ready," you said when you finally managed to solve the equation.

”You did it!" saw the board quite surprised and so did you. "Your boyfriend is lucky" For a second he himself kept quiet knowing that the last thing he said wasn't quite right.

"Boyfriend? that species is extinct within my social radar" You laughed trying to keep him from feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." He saw you trying to analyze your expression.

"Well sometimes the unconscious makes us a bad move" You smiled broadly "besides I guess the lucky one is his girlfriend" you returned the same move trying to tempt the ground.

"It's also an extinct species to me," he smiled, but he avoid your gaze.

"Well, then we're free to go looking for it.”

"I thought you had a boyfriend," he said as he started writing the equation on the board on the computer.

"Why?"you sat at the desk, watching him write on the computer quite nervous.

"Nothing else" You knew he was lying to you.

"Nothing else?”

"Well you're a very cute and smart girl, I figured a lot of guys are interested in you.” He didn't even look you in the eye when he said that.

”I'm not really interested in anyone" You saw through the window as you answered" well, only in someone, but it's impossible” Oh God, now the unconscious had made the wrong move to you talking too much.

”Nothing is impossible" he looked up and seemed to know what you meant.

"Well, it's just that if I just had a sign I could know it's not impossible" You started fiddling with your wrist bracelet nervously.

"How what a sign?" he stopped writing and stood right in front of you, you were still sitting at the desk.

"I don't know" You felt the adrenaline start to accelerate your pulse as it approached you.

"A date, a kiss, or even invite you to work on a project?" He placed his hands on the edge of the desk rubbing your legs.

”Yes, that sounds good " Clearly you knew what he meant, his look and yours were fixed, you appreciated that the door was closed and it was the third level, the windows were facing nowhere, so no one could see what was happening.

"Well sometimes it is necessary that you also give signals, don't you think?" His gaze and yours really seemed to be completely fixed.

"Yeah, that sounds fair." You started breathing deeper.

Slowly, he tempting the ground, began to approach, for a moment you knew that this was not right, that it was not right, but fuck, your body wanted it as you have no idea. Slowly he started to kiss you, he was nice and actually a very good kisser, then he started to get a little rougher, but both you and he knew you wanted him, his arm held your hip and your hands hugged his neck holding on to him.

"Dr. Hiddleston, I bring the copies you ordered." Someone knocked on the door and immediately the feeling of running out overwhelmed you.

"Sure, I'm coming" saw you and he wiped the lip gloss you had left on him. You packed your stuff fast and when I was going to close the door again you walked out without seeing him in the face.

"Until Monday" You started walking fast.

"Y / N wait" was the last thing you heard when you started going down the stairs two at a time.

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You, Diane and Jared planned to go out that weekend, you weren't feeling well, but you also didn't want to leave them after you had planned this for days.

"Hey, you look pale," Jared saw you worried as they waited for food at the mall.

"Do you feel well Y/N?" Diane picked up a lock of your hair as you looked at nothingness.

”I'm a little worried," you said looking at the table now "Can I ask for some advice?”

”You know you can Y/N" Jared saw you even more worried.

"What should I do if I like someone I shouldn't like?" Dress up Jared.

"Does he have a girlfriend or is he a fuck boy?" Diane asked pretty quickly.

"None, it's just...”

”Then I see no reason why you shouldn't like it."

”It's not that, but, he's like, I don't know how to say this" You didn't want to tell them that he was your thermodynamics professor, you would never actually do it. "I met him some time ago in the cinema, he's cute and kind to me, but he's older than me” you lied a little about it.

"How much are we talking about?”

"14 years, I think" you've never actually asked him about his age, but on one occasion while you were typing on his computer you saw his college professor card that had all his data on it by the way.

”Look at that, my best friend a whole league men" Diane actually got excited, started asking you what he was like and if you had already had something with him which was pretty strange, but Jared's expression wasn't really emotional.

"I can only tell you to be very careful Y/N" Jared took your hand " Do not let the pretty words lead you down a path other than the one you seek. And well, if he like you and you like him, I see no problem”

The weekend you thought about the kiss his gave, it was quite nice really nice, you had only had three boyfriends before and honestly their kiss had been better than all the previous ones. The problem was what were you going to do on Monday when you see him? Well that day you decided to wear a pink dress that your mother given you at Christmas, you never wore this type of clothes so it was going to be something quite new, you combed your hair differently even, you knew that if you were at least going to talk to him and he told you that it was a mistake he would miss something great.

Your legs started shaking when you walked into the classsroom, you sat as usual in the third row, Tom wasn't there yet, so that calmed you down a little more. You noticed that in this class you had not made friends, so to avoid the panic of seeing him in the eyes when he entered in the classroom you preferred to start talking to the girl who always sat next to you.

"He took a while, didn't it?" you smiled so you didn't look crazy.

"Yes something, but for me no problem" the girl smiled as well

"My name is Y / N, and you?”

"Meghan, you're going with the teacher Fox in relativity, aren't you?”

"Yeah, you too?”

"No but my boyfriend does, I've seen you come out of there when I expect it”

"Well, I don't really know many people.”

"Well, college is exhausting," they both smiled, actually Meghan seemed like a pretty nice girl.

"Speaking of the king of Rome, he's arrive." When she said that and you heard the door shut, fear invaded you, so you didn't look at him. You just focused on your computer monitor, but you knew he saw you.

The class felt as if it had lasted 20 minutes and not an hour and a half, the desire to leave was enough.

"Hey if you want we could have breakfast together today, apparently you don't have class now either, do you?" Meghan waited for you to put your things away.

"Of course I would love to and no, I don't have class” You fully appreciated that Meghan will not leave you in the classroom, without looking at Tom you went out with your new friend, you felt that had been a bit cruel, but the nerves were worse.

At the end of the day you didn't do anything about it and neither did Wednesday and apparently Tom wasn't interested in asking you to stay and talk either, or so it seemed.

On Friday you returned to the usual routine with the usual clothes and hairstyle, honestly you no longer felt in the mood to waste time on those things. The class went on normally until at one point you crossed eyes with him, it was a bit strange, but you pretended you didn't care and ignored him after a few seconds. At the same time in the classes you talked with Meghan, even going out to eat the cafeteria.

"Y/N can we talk for a second?"Back to being alone with him in the classroom at the end, Meghan said goodbye and whispered you in your ear that she will waiting for you in the cafeteria.

"Hey I didn't want to overdo you, let alone bother you, I apologize for it and also if you no longer want to work on the project I will fully understand it” His face seemed that he was really sorry about last week.

"I really don't know what to say." You were completely honest.

"I'm sorry I should have known that you're not interested in me at all and it's okay”

"I never said I wasn't interested”

He calmly checked the hallway and closed the classroom door

"You ran away, that tells me otherwise”

"Yes, but that's was I panicked, I didn't want to bother you”

"For God's sake, that doesn't matter anymore.”

"It does matter and quite”

"You want to talk about this then?”

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner”

"So am I, excuse me too” he hesitated for a second when he finally asked," Do you want to continue with the project?”

"Of course I do" You got a little closer to him.

"See you at 15: 00 then" He too approached and carefully kissed your hand to leave the classroom.

This time you arrived early, your teacher had let them out forty minutes earlier, so you decided to be somewhat punctual to your appointment. You read while you waited sitting on the chairs in the hallway, when you saw him come you smiled and he when saw you, smiled too.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you were going to arrive so early” he closed the door carefully and just as he turned around you gave him a pretty long kiss and he reciprocated broadly.

"I'm sorry" You saw that he was actually happy about it "I think last time we couldn't finish it"

He held your face in his hands for a few seconds "I like you Y/N, I know what's not right, I know this not right, but fuck, I like you a lot”

”And you me" He kissed you again, this time a little rough, it seemed that he wanted to make his statement clear. ”I really wanted to kiss you in front of everybody on Monday in that cute dress."

"If you like it I can bring it more days," you winked.

After that day working on the project was much more fun, and even in the classes they shared gazes from time to time, it felt good, had passed enough time that you did not date someone. On the other hand, sometimes fear invaded you, you knew that if anyone found out about whatever it was you and Tom had, it was the end of your scholarship and even your college life.

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"Do you like lobster?"He asked you while making notes on the computer and you cleaned the board.

"I've never eaten it"

“What? How can you live without eating lobster in your life?" He came up to you and, holding you by the waist, turned you towards him.

"Well, we're not all millionaires so I can't buy lobster." You inadvertently smeared chalk in his hair when you touched him.

"Then I'll buy you lobster dinner. What do you say?" He caressed your face as he waited for your answer

"Mmmm, when?”

"Tomorrow, I'd wait a few blocks from here, you don't want anyone to see you getting in my car, do you?”

"I'd love for them to, but yes, send me the instructions and I'll see you there then.”

"Why would you love it?"He kissed your neck calmly.

"That they might see that you are mine" You smiled mockingly.

"Well, I mean you're mine too, so it would be a fair deal.”

For weeks now both were texting, it was interesting to see that teachers also have a life apart from teaching.

You dressed up, not so formal or so casual for the occasion, it was the first date you had, it felt a little strange, you wore on a low-cut black dress, something daring for your tastes, but it was the most suitable thing you found. When you arrived at the rendezvous point, you immediately identified his car.

“I can't believe how perfect you are, " he gave you a sweet kiss while you fixed your skirt so it wouldn't wrinkle. He came as always very formal.

The dinner was perfect, you did not know that the lobster tasted that way, you liked it a lot, the place was beautiful, the waiters very attentive and well, talking with Tom about things that were not thermodynamics was pleasant. In the end he invited you to his apartment, which you sincerely hoped was not just with the intention of kissing you.

When they arrived his apartment looked like a palace, it was very nice, very cozy, his kitchen was comfortable enough to cook anything, your apartment was too small for a kitchen like him.

He told you that he should make some calls, that you could explore the house if you wanted and you took his word, it was very nice place, in the hallway to the bedroom had his medals and recognitions, you did not know that he studied chemistry too, he's a genius. When you finished walking, you looked in the fridge for something to drink.

"Want some wine?"Because of its height it was much easier to reach the shelves above where it seemed to have the bottles of wine.

”I would love to"

He served two glasses in half, it was red wine with a very good smell, you knew it because your father was a wine lover, so much so that he had even taken you to vineyards to see how they did it.

"May I?"You asked, pointing out if you could play something on the record player in the room.

“Clear”

When yo put the pen on the record a fairly quiet song began to play, he took the cup out of your hand and put it on the ledge next to his, placed his hand on your waist and with the other he held your hand, you placed yours on his neck.

“Would you laugh if I told you it's the first time I've danced with someone? well, that someone who is not my father invites me to dance”

"Really?”

"Yeah, well I had a boyfriend that I took out to dance, that's why it doesn't count,” you laughed as you remembered that.

"Well, what an idiot, you are beautiful Y/N and I will dance with you as many times as possible”

You felt a lot of peace in his arms, he was much stronger than you, that was clear, but even just seeing him in the eyes you felt that everything was going to be okay. You weren't very good at dancing, but he gave you the confidence to even make a mistake.

For a moment he began to kiss you slowly, slowly while the music echoed to both of us, then he began to kiss your neck which in a way tickled you, but at the same time made you want it with all your soul. After a few seconds as his hands ran through your hips and yours his hair whispered into his ear: "Take me to the bedroom" you stared at him and he understood completely.

He carried you so easily that it seemed that you did not weigh anything, carefully put you in bed and wait for you reaction.

"For God's sake, I want to make you mine from the moment I saw you at that fucking science fair contest.”

"Well now is your time" You bit your lip slightly.

He knew you were too small in comparison to him, so he was very careful when touch you, first he started by your dress, very slowly unbuttoning it. He look you in your underwear the moment he managed to take it off you. On the other hand, you, in a somewhat desperate way, started to take off his belt.

"No, until I say so" Their gaze turned a bit dark, they could see the desire for each other in your eyes.

He started kissing your crotch carefully, you moaned slightly, you had no intimate contact with anyone for a long time, so you somehow didn't remember how glorious this feels. He kept kissing getting closer to your entrance, the heat began to flood your body, after walking your thighs he began to lick your entrance a little desperate, but at the same time touching the exact points to make you see stars. He put two fingers inside you and immediately your back curled, when he entered the third in you pulled his hair as you began to feel the heat in your stomach increase more and more.

”Tom, please, I'm almost there" you moaned as your eyesight began to blur completely.

His fingers began to move faster and for an instant you felt like the heat flooded your whole body, it was the first time that someone managed to make you come with oral sex. You pulled his hair back, but it didn't seem to bother him, even taking it as a way to know where or not to continue. Your legs clenched at the feeling and he proudly began to undress. When you saw it you felt that you really needed to have he inside you, his axis was quite large, more than you imagined and its well worked body made you feel needed.

"Fuck me like there's no tomorrow," you whispered as you recovered from the first round.

You felt the desire going between your legs, again you were so wet just to imagine he inside you.

"You know that if I hurt you or if you want me to stop I will do it immediately” He placed on you and spread your legs with his knee.

You just nodded, he was staring at you as he began to insert his shaft into you, it hurt a bit, tears started running down your cheeks and Tom's face looked worried, "Do you want me to stop?”

"No!" To drown the groans you hid your face on his shoulder as he began to take a rhythm in his onslaught, at one point the pain ceased and he took a stronger rhythm, one after another, you felt as your body began to attach quite well to its axis, to the degree that you glued more your hips to his, demanding more. When he noticed it one of his hands took the headboard and with the other placed one of your legs on his shoulder to give you what you needed. At some point he also started moaning, loud and deep, which made you feel even more excited in the middle of it all.

”Fuck, why are you so perfect?" he whispered into your ear as you began to feel your orgasm was about to bloom.

"Make me yours, only yours" you moaned almost without strength.

"You are only mine" His onslaught, although it seemed that you could not, began to be faster and deeper, you knew that sitting was going to be a challenge for you in the following days.

To drown your groans he gave you a very deep kiss, his tongue did all the work in the kiss, honestly for you it was a sea of sensations that would end you unconscious of pleasure. Just as they both reached the climax he saw you in the eyes and felt you fade away in sobs and moans.

”I'm almost there" he said as he clung even more to you and your legs began to close with pleasure.

"Me too" Didn't know if you understood what you meant, but at least you were trying.

"Let me feel you" His words were your release and his, you felt the heat of his seed inside you and it was enough for your orgasm to reach the necessary point of feeling a deep warmth throughout your body. The veins on her neck were too marked and you could also feel her breathing so heavy as she enjoyed her release.

He was over you for several minutes, the only thing you could hear in the room was his busy, deep breaths. You hugged him fondly and he hugged you, when he came out of you you felt a pretty weird void, but fuck, it was the best sex you'd ever had in your life.

After his breaths managed to take a moderate course he saw you in the eyes as he groomed your hair carefully.

”I didn't want to be too brusque the first time" His hand caressed your stomach, internally you told yourself that if this was not brusque you didn't imagine the next time how sore you would end up, but it's something that really excited you, in every way.

"We'll have many more times to do it" You smiled and planted a kiss on his lips. "Many more" smiled in the middle of the kiss which made you adore him even more.

Thanks for readign me

#tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston #loki (marvel)#loki #loki x reader #marvel loki #marvel tom hiddleston

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stubbedbakutoes · 4 years

Text

Promise Ring

Bakugou accidentally slips up amidst an argument with (y/n). The question now is, does he feel guilty? at all?

pairing: asshole!bakugou x fem reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: angst (i advise grabbing some tissues before proceeding with caution mwahaha)

part 2

masterlist

Whilst his hands held up the ring in the glistening light of the gradually rising sun, her movements halted, thankful she was mere seconds away from having the hot liquid in her mouth because she would more than likely be spluttering and coughing at the shock of what he had just said. Bakugou darted his eyes away from hers, because he’s embarrassed.

But then he’s just looking back at her again. Because he couldn’t not look at her. He licked his suddenly dry as hell lips, shrugging a shoulder.

“Fell for you hard and I don’t want this to just be some fling that we’ll get over in a few weeks.” The blush was rising on his cheeks and she found this self-conscious side of him adorable.

“Kacchan!” She kicked his shin under the table. “You’re asking me to marry you?” She asked slowly.

“No!” He scoffed playfully, which soon turned into a laugh when she squealed out something along the lines of ‘Don’t look so disgusted! how was I supposed to react to that, huh?’ “I mean, you’ve had my dick in your mouth, I'd say we’re pretty committed at this poi-.”

“But you’re really not proposing?” She cut him off, not wanting to hear anything from his vulgar mouth anymore.

“Shut up.” He chuckled, mindlessly playing footsie with her under the table. “I’m serious about it though.”

“Marrying me?”

Bakugou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as a smile played on his lips, “About how we’re past the honeymoon stage.”

“What’s that?” Lifting her mug of tea for the second time, she finally took her first sip of what was always a good cup of morning coffee when made by someone else, specifically Bakugou.

“You know... That period at the beginning of the relationship when everything goes well and is free of problems.”

“Aside from arguing whether the toilet seat cover should stay up or not?”

Bakugou smiled fondly at her. “Sure.”

Their grins were far too wide and cheesy for this early in the morning but the feeling of giddiness they felt inside was too much to conceal and, without any further word on the subject, the rest of breakfast was served so the two could quiet down their grumbling stomach like a proper non-fling-type couple.

(y/n)’s trying the ring on her fingers, and when it only fits on her fourth finger (like he’d hoped), Y/N’s looking back at him. “I care about you too.” She smiled reassuringly. “And to prove it,” She began, stabbing a portion of Bakugou’s food with a fork. “I’ll have this piece of your pancake, thank you very much.”

“Where’s the correlation?”

“I just wanted to steal some food from you, sorry.”

“You’re not very good at being sly, aren’t you?” Bakugou giggled, playing with the matching ring on his pinky finger. “ I just. I love you, you know? And, like. I know we’re still young, so it’s obviously not an engagement ring. I like to consider it a promise. Something to keep your finger warm till I get you a proper ring.”

“—so now what? You just wait for me to leave so you can— what? Cheat on me?!” Bakugou slammed his open palm down on the wooden table, eyes alit with a fury so strong that even (y/n)'s terrified because she's never, ever, seen him this angry before. She's had fights with him before, of course she has, they've been together for over three years, but she's never seen him this determined to win an argument– to the extent that if they were in a cartoon show, he'd probably have smoke puffing out of either side of his ears.

But this is no time for her imagination to be running wild because she's pissed, too. So much anger flooded her veins that tears accumulating in the corner of her eyes are almost spilling out — that's the worst kind of anger.

(y/n) gaped at him. “Are you fucking serious right now? I had one single conversation with that guy and and you— you think I’m cheating on you?!”

And what's filling her with rage is that what they're fighting over is stupid, good Lord, it's so fucking stupid.

It started with (y/n) telling Bakugou about how she's finally found a dream, something to chase, because she's spent most of her life without having decided what to do for herself or wanting anything in her life. That dream involved her going to a school, outside the country, and that turned into a tiny misunderstanding, which blossomed into something else, followed something else after that, and then both Bakugou and Y/N were yelling at each other and calling each other names and it was all a horrible sight to see. Both of them have no idea what brought it on to this extent. All they're certain of is that they're pissed at each other and have, apparently, been pissed at each other for a long ass time.

Bakugou grinned. A grin that she loathed, because Bakugou’s grins are usually with mischief, with playfulness. Not this malice. He outstretched his arm on either sides of him, like he’s showing something off. “Well, I don’t see anyone proving me otherwise.”

She huffed, glaring right back at him. “What the hell is your problem?”

“What’s my problem?! What the hell is your problem?!” Bakugou yelled back at her, not even bothering to try to keep from shouting. He pointed out the door, “You were fucking flirting with that two-faced asshole right in front of me! You're the problem!”

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?! That was months ago, you've had that stupid excuse of a grudge on me ever since, huh?!" (y/n)'s eyes narrowed and crinkled – not in a way that Bakugou's used to seeing. "I haven't done anything wrong! All I've done is fucking been there for your stupid ambition to be the number one hero-

"Stupid? Stupid?!" Bakugou repeated incredulously, eyes widening as he quivered with anger. "I'd watch my words if I were you. This is my fucking life goal and something I want for myself that you're calling stupid."

(y/n) was nearly suffocating on her fury, her laugh void of any happiness leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "I am aware of what I'm spewing out. Your fucking dream was delusional and far fetched but I supported it, didn't I?! I watched every single match, patched up your hands when they bled from all that training, made you delicious bentos to fuel you up for the day – "

"– And now you say it was all stupid," Bakugou laughed mirthlessly, glaring at her so hard that (y/n)'s knees start to tremble. "How romantic can this get?" He raised his voice, arms stretching out before clapping obnoxiously loud, "I hope shitting on your boyfriend's dream has given you some sort of satisfaction."

"And you've got some nerve to pull all of this shit with me about suddenly wanting something for myself because I've met someone else and that I'm cheating on you," (y/n)'s lips tremble, her voice practically shaking with anger as she spoke, a finger going to point accusingly at him, "You're not my boyfriend. You're just one big hypocrite!"

"You fucking are, though!" His voice was laced with venom as he practically spat the words in the woman's face. "You're definitely planning to elope with some hunk city boy! I'm not fucking good enough for you, huh?!"

And that’s— that’s the final straw.

Relationships are about trust, and Bakugou obviously didn't fucking trust her. If he wasn't so much of a prick in how he reacted to her telling him her future plans then they'd probably be cuddled against each other, asleep, and Bakugou would be the first to start apartment hunting for her — for them, because he'd even move with her, since he knows he couldn't properly function without her.

But before she even opened her mouth to inform him that she's done with this toxic relationship, he beat her to it, “Good thing I never fell in love with you, then.”

(y/n)’s face changed from cocky to puzzled then to heartbroken. As his words made her world crumble, Bakugou took pride in the sight of the bewildered woman before him, not planning to take his words back anytime soon since he saw this argument as a game of who can devastate the other first. And the prize was looking back on this fight one day and thinking, wow, I won that. It didn't matter what had been said and done in his book.

But (y/n) and Bakugou are two sides of the same coin; she simply wanted to have her point reach his end, so that they can both agree to put this aside and go back to their normal, non-fling-type couple selves.

“So all of this,” She motioned between them, interrupting his train of thought “meant nothing to you? You never even loved me?” She asked with what seemed to be a mixture of hurt and sadness but mainly anger. Before he could even blink, she was over hitting him on the chest with her tightly clenched fists, trying to let out her pain, “I hate you, you're the worst! You told me numerous times you loved me- that you’d never even make me feel like shit! What’s changed, Bakugou? Why can’t you love me anymore?” Her voice cracked, nonetheless she was smoldered with rage.

"Are you deaf? I said I never did. I was lying the whole time, whenever I told you that— that I did."

Bakugou took every hit she was giving him because he stood firmly on his feet, unnecessarily adding fuel to the fire, as if (y/n)'s miserable state wasn't enough to satisfy him — to drop his guard and tell her he wanted to take it back. That he wanted to say I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry, I love you, I didn’t mean to say that— but then (y/n)’s letting out a laugh that sounds so bitter, it made Bakugou flinch.

“Fine,” she breathed out, then she’s scoffing out another harsh laugh. “Then— we’re done. Wouldn’t want you to waste your time and effort in a relationship that you never thought was worth it. I don’t want to waste my time and energy being with someone who clearly doesn’t feel the same kind of love towards me.”

And she turned on her heel, ready to head straight out the door, purposefully ignoring the faint, “Wait, (y/n)—” from behind. Her opposite hand subconsciously grazed the promise ring she shared with Bakugou, and she realises something.

At one swift movement, she pulled at the said ring and threw it at him with more force than necessary.

“What a fucking nonsense 'promise' that was,” She said out loud, and it rang through Bakugou’s ears, because he made a pathetic whining sound that's never been heard before, because this moment couldn't have a bigger emotional toll on him than anything else.

"Y/N, hear me out," he sniffled. "I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean an ounce of what I said. I know you're not cheating on me, baby, I'm sure of that. I was being a dickhead for that and I'm so fucking sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I love you, Y/N. God. I need you so much, and I was lying when I said I never did. When you're not with me, I'm not... me. And I just," he sighed, pulling the ends of his hair aggressively. "I'm sorry, I really am."

Y/N’s got a hand on the door handle, but there were fingers slowly wrapping around her other wrist. She yanked her wrist out of his hold like his touch burned, causing Bakugou's lips to shake. It's hitting him now, the fact that he's losing the girl he courted and spent so much time with. The girl who kept him wide awake at night because of how much she clouded his mind. Not to mention, the ring which symbolizes their commitment to each other, is being thrown away like it's nothing.

(y/n) peeked at him through her eyelashes, "Give me a break. I obviously don't have a place in your heart, you've made that painfully clear to me. So do me a favor and fuck off."

He very nearly heaved with his next breath. He held a hand up, ring between his pointer finger and thumb. “I meant it when I said I wanted to get serious with this relationship. I still do, and that'll never change. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, that you should be with someone— someone better in every fucking way possible, I want to be the one to marry you. That wasn’t a false promise. That was— that is the promise that I swear to God I’ll be keeping until my last breath.”

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mooniefics · 3 years

Text

— the hands that beckon me

pairing : zeke jaeger / reader

word count : 1.9k

tags : emotional hurt / comfort, relationship discussion, pillow talk, insecure zeke :(

summary : zeke is finally home, on a brief layover from the war, and you both finally get around to having that tough discussion you've been putting off for far too long.

— originally posted 1 / 21 / 21 on ao3 —

"what do you do while i'm gone?"

your skin was still hot from being pressed over his when he asked, thrumming with a warmth you hadn't felt yet craved so deeply for months. you turned to face him from your place on your back in bed, pressing into his side, peering curiously at his profile. you'd missed seeing him like this, out of his ironed, pristine uniform, hair messy from your fingers running through it, sharp features warmed with the flush of passion, unobscured by his glasses, eyes and voice sleepy and relaxed rather than alert and tight with self-awareness.

"what do you mean?" your reply was soft, almost playful to counter his matter-of-fact delivery, reaching out to draw your fingers across his firm, bare chest.

"i mean what keeps you busy? what do you do for fun?"

>readmore<

the war with the mid-east allied forces had been dragging on for just about two years now, and there seemed to be no end in sight, but after the marleyan army managed to snatch a victory from the jaws of defeat on foreign soil, the news came to your internment zone that the soldiers would be returning on a brief layover as the countries' political leaders decided whether or not they'd be willing to smooth things over in a more peaceful manner.

this afternoon you had been there at the gates with his grandparents, barely able to stand still beside them as all three of you waited wordlessly with baited breath, balancing up on your tiptoes, straining to peek over the crowd to catch a glimpse of him. while others were stood by with looks of unmasked dread—men with clenched jaws and stiff shoulders, women with tears brimming their eyes, children tugging at sleeves and already crying with impatience—you felt an uncontainable joy. it was humbling to look around at all the panicked faces, to remember that not every family had the luxury of your confidence, the almost guaranteed certainty that the one you loved would return. but you couldn't help the blinding smile that broke out across your face as he ambled through the crowd, tired, well-kept, but looking warmly down at you and his family.

you had let him to greet them first, they were his blood relatives after all, but only after he'd finished giving his grandmother a tight hug and exchanging affectionate words did you allow yourself to throw your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder and breathing in his rich scent of gunpowder, pine, just a faint hint of cigarettes, melting easily into his strong embrace. you and zeke had wandered back alongside the older couple to their home, sharing a calm, easy dinner where zeke relayed what information he could to them about the status of the ongoing battle, but you were just itching to have some time to yourself with him.

you'd spent hours cleaning your quaint little home a few streets down, agonizing over every little detail despite how you knew he didn't mind whatever state it was in, just that you were there. and as soon as you'd both said your friendly goodbyes and made it through the door of your home, he was pulling you along to the bedroom, legs having memorized the path of weaving through the living room and kitchen and down the hall to the door on the left.

he was impatient, as he always was when he was tugging you out of your clothes, but sensual all in the same when he pressed his lips onto yours, murmured soft, longing words in your ear, hands squeezing and grabbing, reacquainting themselves with your soft figure. you both didn't last long—how could you when you were so eager—but felt satisfied all the time after everything was said and done, lowering back onto the mattress, flushed and panting, a faint sheen of sweat shimmering over your skin. his question just now had puzzled you. it was simple, but you knew it hid something deeper, he'd never asked something of that nature in all the time he'd been coming back and going away.

"well.. not much really. i go to work at the jewelry shop, have tea with your grandmother on thursdays, wander around the market if i feel up to it, help mary from down the street with her boys if she needs it."

you faltered at the mention of her, not remembering whether you'd seen her husband when you'd met with zeke at the entrance to the zone. you forced yourself not to frown. how selfish of you, you didn't even bother to check on her before you allowed yourself to be whisked away for the night.

he seemed to notice your sudden dismay, wrapping a comforting arm around you as he spoke, "you mean aksoy?" you nodded. "he made it back on the train alright. drunk off his ass, but alive."

you breathed a small sigh of relief, offering up a small smile at him. "good to hear."

and though his lips curled back in a similar expression, it didn't quite reach his eyes, and you only felt further perturbed by how his gaze briefly flickered elsewhere. "why do you ask?" you prompted, fingers trailing up his neck to rest at his jaw, gently turning him to face you again.

"just curious, is all.."

you could sense that he was lying, but about what you didn't quite know. "come on, zeke, we've known each other since we were kids. you don't think i know when you're hiding something?"

he hummed, the corners of his eyes creasing as an easy, genuine grin graced his features. "i apologize for underestimating your lie detecting skills."

you couldn't help but giggle softly at his words, thumb stroking over his warm cheek, body fitting perfectly against his. he was really here. finally, after all this waiting, he had come back to you, even if only for a few weeks that would surely fly past in an instant.

"i don't really know how to say this.." he seemed uncharacteristically sheepish, grey eyes traversing over your face, onto a far wall of the room, then up to the ceiling for a brief moment before it finally wandered back to you, "i guess you could say it started with me feeling a bit guilty, leaving you here all by yourself."

"i can bear the wait, you know that. as long as i know that i'll get to see you." for now, came the silent addendum.

he had three years left, barely a quarter remaining in his term, but you didn't broach the topic, and he seemed just as content putting off the discussion as you were. your relationship was easy, in a sense. there was never any squabbling over when the two of you would move in, or when he would retire from his position and settle down, milestones such as marriage and children were never issues. but there were days where you wished they were, though you'd never admit it.

just like how you'd never admit to the warm burn of envy that sparked to life when a man came into the shop you worked at searching for a ring for his partner, a spark that inevitably gave way to a cool emptiness settling deep into your chest, swallowing up your heart and balling an uncomfortable lump in your throat by the time you'd helped him choose out just the perfect jewel and sent him on his way.

"i know that, but," he swallowed, licking his lips, "sometimes i'm afraid that you're getting bored."

"bored?" the word felt strangely odd on your tongue, your own eyes blinking at him.

"bored." he reaffirmed, frowning slightly as he continued, "you see other people your age—our age—every day, don't you? when you go to the market, when you're at work, hell, even when you're spending time with your friends, you see people with lives, with structure." you knew the exact words that were coming next, but the impact of them hurt all the same. "people who don't have the thought of how time is running out hanging over their head."

it was you who turned away this time, feeling your lower lip tremble, eyes suddenly watering despite how you wished not to cry. all those complicated feelings you'd pushed down in favor of relishing in your feigned ignorance, of pretending that zeke was just a normal soldier with normal duties who was just lucky enough to come back each time. you'd always politely brushed your friends off when they'd pestered you of the absence of a ring on your finger, asking when you'd have children of your own rather than always being there to help them take care of theirs, you swept their concerns aside with a rehearsed smile because you didn't want to come to terms with the fact that you wanted those things for yourself.

the pill of zeke's looming mortality was hard enough to swallow on its own, all without mentioning how the love you shared was so rich yet so fleeting, fruitful yet futile all at once. you had no words to offer him, but your silence seemed to be enough of a reply, a forlorn, almost remorseful look settling over his handsome features.

"perhaps— perhaps you should search for someone else." you felt your stomach knot and twist, sorrow bubbling up like a geyser from below, biting at your cheek as to not let your shaky breaths spill from your mouth, "you're beautiful, it would really be no trouble at all for you to find someone—someone who can give you a good life. a fulfilling life."

"but.. there's still time left, isn't there?" your voice was quiet, thick with restrained tears, "there's still time for us."

"it isn't fair to you."

"it wouldn't be fair to you either if i left now." your brows knitting together, expression strained as you felt warmth trickle down your face, dripping down your chin onto his shoulder. "do you want me to leave?"

he looked away, hesitating just enough to make more droplets bead at your lashes before he shook his head, drawing a crooked finger across your cheek to catch a few stray tears. again, that disdain at your own selfishness came. he was worried for you, ruminating own his own impending death, trying to soften the blow of it for you at the expense of his own happiness, yet all you could do was cry at the thought of parting with him in any voluntary way.

"you're the one i want." you whispered, sniffling, "i knew what i was getting into at the start of all this, the things that i would miss, the things i would have to give up on, but they can wait. i can't be without you, not if i know that i can spend a single moment longer like this, loving you."

the sun had sank low in the sky, light abandoning the two of you in the dark of your room, alone with your shared, trembling breaths, his frown and distant eyes, your tears and imploring gaze. you felt weary in many ways as you allowed yourself to settle back onto his chest, closing your eyes at the feeling of his arm tightening its grasp around you, holding you close, a silent plea to stay just as you were.

he didn't speak, not another word of uncertainty exchanged, but you knew that he understood. he was here, and as long as that was the case you would always wait, keep turning down the hands that beckoned you, rescind your domestic desires for the sake of clinging to this one rare, importunate, lovely thing you had—clinging to him.

#zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager x you #zeke jaeger x reader #snk zeke #zeke yeager angst #zeke jaeger angst

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sunsetcurvecuddles · 3 years

Note

“Let me bandage you up,” Tía or Ray and Reggie, just to be different. 😁

hi i loved this so much omg. huge thanks to Ángela @angela-feelstoomuch for the spanish help as well, any remaining mistakes are totally my own fault haha. warning for some swearing and mentions of bl00d/minor injury.

ao3 link in reblogs!

Honestly, being an honorary Molina is pretty great most of the time. Reggie loves having a little brother, would have done anything to convince his parents to have another kid when he was younger (and alive), though he knew they never would, since one kid was already such a pain in the ass. So Carlos is amazing.

And obviously Julie is his favourite girl ever, and his favourite still-alive person in the world, and she sings like an angel and thinks his country songs are cool and he would do anything for her and et cetera. It’s nice to see Luke and Alex settle in, get more relaxed - Luke doesn’t shy away from Julie every time Ray enters a room, and Alex doesn’t make excuses to miss dinner so that he doesn’t have to say grace, because he’s realised Ray doesn’t make him say grace.

“Niños!” Ray is calling from the kitchen, oven mitts on his hands, grin on his face, “Help setting the table?”

Even from here, dinner smells amazing. “Coming!” Reggie calls, manages not to say ‘dad’ at the end but it’s close, as he and Carlos bounce up off the couch and run to the kitchen.

Ray is the best. Reggie’s own dad was - look, it’s not that he was awful, it’s not that Reggie hates him, it’s just - he saw these dads, in movies, and on TV, and in other peoples homes, and he wanted one even more than he wanted a puppy, or a little brother, and Ray is that dad. He’s understanding, and encouraging, and funny, and a great cook, and he never raises his voice even when he should be mad about something. Reggie feels so lucky that Julie and Carlos let Reggie share their dad, even unofficially.

“Carlos!” Tía snaps, as he runs past her and ducks under her elbow, narrowly avoiding the tray in her hands, “Cuidado! La bandeja está caliente!”

It’s Tía Victoria who kinda scares Reggie.

It’s not that she’s not nice. Tía is nice. She brings over food and drives Carlos to ball games and pesters Ray about dentists’ appointments he almost forgets to go to. It’s just that she’s a little more like the other adults Reggie knew. She barks her words, sometimes, and she doesn’t get Julie’s music thing quite like Ray does, even if she’s supportive for the most part. And she doesn’t always believe Carlos about things, which Reggie understands more now that he’s been conned by Carlos about several random things (for example, Eggos are not in the house-sized waffle business in 2020 as Carlos told him, and they did not manage to breed dragons into existence with new DNA cloning technology) but still. It makes him nervous.

“Sorry, Tía!” Carlos chirps as he slides on his socks into a crouched position in front of the cupboard where they keep all the plates and bowls. Since Carlos has them handled, Reggie goes for glasses instead, reaching overhead for the cupboard on the opposite side of the room.

“Carlos!” sighs Tía again, more irritated than before, and Reggie feels his shoulders tense even though he wills them not to. “Let me help carry some of those, you’ll drop them, sobrino.”

“Fine,” Carlos huffs, and there’s the clink of plates as he passes half his pile off to her and they head for the dining table.

Reggie counts in his head as he stacks the glasses in the crook of his arm. There’s him and the boys, so four - wait, no, three - plus Julie, so four - then Ray and Carlos and Tía so five six seven -

He’s too caught up counting, is the problem, and doesn’t focus enough on how he has the glasses balanced. It probably would have been fine, except there’s a loud thud! Which Reggie registers a moment too late as being Luke, jumping from the top of the stairs to the bottom, enjoying his alive body. The sound scares Reggie about a foot in the air, and he fumbles the stack of glasses, and almost manages to save it.

The glass from the very top of the pile smashes on the floor, a harsh shatter that makes every head in the room turn in his direction. Reggie feels the panic surge up in him like a forgotten pot on the stove suddenly bubbling over. With trembling hands, he puts the rest of the glasses on the counter and scrambles down to the floor, tries to gather the glass shards together into a pile from where they’ve scattered, desperate to tidy the mess, to give some sense of responsibility, instead of just standing there like a stupid kid. “I’m sorry,” he starts, and his voice shakes more than he’d like, almost more than his hands had, “I’m sorry, I can clean it-”

“Reggie!” interrupts Tía, and her voice seems sharper than the glass.

“Victoria-” Ray begins, but Tía doesn’t let him finish, either. She’s already practically at Reggie’s side, crouching down next to him on the floor.

Her closeness makes Reggie’s hairs stand on end, and he’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not for her to gently lay her fingertips on his wrist and say, in a much softer tone, “Mijo, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh.” Reggie blinks. Looks at his arm, next to where her perfectly manicured nails have landed. She’s right, he sees. There’s a few little gashes, nothing huge, trickling blood in tiny streams down his forearm. In a few more moments, the blood would have reached his hand, and he would have noticed, probably. Except when he turns his palms up to look at them, he realises they’re cut up, too. Probably from grabbing glass shards with no protection.

His lip wobbles before he can stop it. He can still feel everyone looking at him. Knows what they must be thinking.

Stupid fucking kid.

“What are you staring at?” Tía says, back to business as usual. He flinches at her voice, before he realises she’s not talking to him. She’s talking to the others. “Come on! Ray, grab the dustpan and some shoes, clean up this glass before anyone else gets hurt. Carlos, finish setting the table, and Luke, go fetch the others para la comida.” In his peripheral vision, Reggie sees everyone bounce back into action, like her words broke a spell on them, and it’s a relief to know they’re not all looking at him any more. Tía continues, as she tucks an arm around Reggie’s shoulders, “Reggie and I will be back.”

“We will?” Reggie asks automatically, as she helps him balance on his wobbly, baby-giraffe legs.

“En un minuto,” she tells him confidently. “But first, let me bandage you up.”

He’s not exactly going to argue with her. Honestly, any excuse to get out of the public space is appreciated when his eyes still feel so close to swimming with tears. Firm yet warm, she leads him to the bathroom and has him sit on the closed toilet lid while she pulls Ray’s first aid kid from the cabinet, pulling from it some disinfectant, bandages and a pair of tweezers.

“Just in case any glass is left,” she explains briskly, settling on the edge of the bathtub and turning his arm over, palm up, so she can see the scratches. She tuts softly. “Your poor hands!”

Reggie ducks his head, whispers, “I really am sorry.”

“¿Por qué?” she asks. “It was an accident, right?”

“Huh?”

She sits back again and looks him in the eyes for a moment. If it was Ray, or one of the boys, Reggie would shy away from the look, but she has the same skill Julie has, to pin you in place with her gaze, so Reggie assumes it’s from Rose’s side of the family. “I know you didn’t throw that glass on the ground on purpose. It was just an accident. These things happen.”

“You’re not angry?” The question slips out before Reggie can think about how silly it sounds, but instead of rolling her eyes, or her jaw clenching in annoyance, Tía’s expression softens somehow.

“No, mijo. Not at all. Estaba un poco preocupada, maybe, but that’s only because I care about you.”

Reggie doesn’t know what to say to that. Bites his lip as she gently applies disinfectant along the wounds, once she’s declared them sufficiently glass-free, and wills himself not to cry as she wraps the bandages around his arm and a little around the palm of his hand. At least if he cries she’ll just think it’s because of the sting, and not because he braced himself so hard to be yelled at and called names and then it never came.

Not because he keeps remembering that he feels like glass himself. Always a moment away from falling onto the ground and shattering, so teeter-y that the kindness of adults he barely knows can almost knock him over the edge.

“Terminado!” she declares, tying off the last of the bandage, and gives him a big smile. It looks genuine enough. Not like she’s bottling anything up to let out at him later. Not like she’s fronting, or lying, not that Reggie’s ever been particularly good at telling the difference with anyone. She must see the puzzlement in his face, because she adds, “Just an accident.”

It really seems that simple. Like everything’s just fixed and okay. Like she doesn’t think Reggie is stupid. The feeling is sort of overwhelming; Reggie’s stomach feels all warm, and - empty, actually. It grumbles loudly in that moment, and Tía laughs, and Reggie laughs with her.

“Vamos a como?” he tries, because he’s been listening, and trying to pick things up.

“Vamos a comer,” she corrects him, but he can’t mistake her tone this time for anything other than delighted, her expression for anything other than fond and relieved as she helps him up. They go back down the stairs, her loosely holding his hand the whole way, not enough to hurt his wounds, but enough to remind him she’s there.

She presents him to the table with a goofy little ta-da! gesture, much to the joy of those already at the table. “Our Reggie, back in one piece!” she says. Laughter and relief radiates from all the others, and Tía grins, pleased, puts her hands on her waist. In that moment, despite all his preconceptions, she reminds him more of Julie than anyone else.

Maybe she isn’t so scary after all.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #reggie molina #tia victoria #ask #queenofthequillandink

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yoonsshadow · 3 years

Text

ETERNAL - iv

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; talk of death, ptsd/flashbacks, war zone, heavy violence, course language, panic attack

➳ word count ; 2k

➳ note ; Hello! I know that this chapter took a little longer to get out, and it is a little shorter than usual, but it’s because it takes a lot of time and research to make sure that I’m doing this story justice. That being said, I hope that you enjoy!! The journey for these eight have truly begun now, and boy, do they have a lot coming. :3

masterlist

For a while now, your life has been slipping between your fingers. Like a shadow passing through the night, every moment has melted through you, pooling at your feet until you’re slipping, falling, thrown to the ground. From the moment the first bullet was delivered through your skull, you have lost grip of your control; of the things you hold dearest to you.

Sitting here, surrounded by these seven men, that empty cavern in your chest aches just a little less. It hasn’t started to fill up yet⎯⎯might not for a very long while⎯⎯but the silence no longer echoes.

“It still feels weird to think about,” you say, soft voice carrying through the room with ease. They are all listening so carefully that you cannot meet any of their eyes. “That I died, I mean. I’ve had time to rationalise it, but my whole life has been spent thinking one way⎯⎯believing in life and death, mortality, the fragility and preciousness of living⎯⎯but now I’ve been killed multiple times, died naturally a handful more, and so it feels as though the whole world has been skewed and I’m yet to find my balance.”

Your fingers fiddle together in your lap, eyes downcast to the empty soup bowl on the coffee table.

“The story of how I died the first time is kind of a long one. I can’t tell you about the final moments without explaining everything that led up to it, but there are a few years of history to go through. So, if you want me to condense it…”

“We have all the time in the world,” Namjoon assures, and it could be a joke, a satirical remark regarding your current situations, but instead he speaks with the utmost care, as if he is afraid of any wrong word, any misstep. He is telling you that they are patient, that they don’t mind waiting, that they will listen to every word you say. For you.

And it warms that hole in your chest enough for you to meet his eyes⎯⎯all of their eyes⎯⎯and offer a small smile. Then you nod to yourself. This is a story you need to tell, no matter how painful the memories are.

“Two-and-a-half years ago,” you begin, “the Special Warfare Command uncovered the elaborate smuggling operation of North Korean forces. Untraceable men⎯⎯assumed Black-Ops⎯⎯would enter South Korea through other countries using fake documentation. It’s unclear how long they stayed, months or years, but they would eventually kidnap vulnerable children and smuggle them to North Korea via Mongolia and China.

“Unfortunately, it took years to trace the movements of these men to a point where we knew what they were doing and how they were doing it. The SWC eventually concluded that North Korea were kidnapping and training future sleeper agents and spies, and avoiding suspicion by hiding in the Gobi Desert. They had an entire base of operations on a grey-zone of the border between Mongolia and China, and managed to leave no traces of their movements.”

You need to take a deep gulp of air at this point. Up until now, you have merely stated facts; regurgitated information as you have been told. However, you know that everything from this point on will become personal. You try to think back on your years of conditioning in the army.

“It was at this point that my team was requested for the operation. The 707th Special Mission Group has hundreds of personnel, all within two assault companies, one support company, and one all-female company. There are many missions in which female operators are a better fit, this one included, and out of the female company, my team was chosen.

“When I was promoted to Captain, and at such a young age... All I felt was excitement. Excitement for such an honour, for the experiences ahead, for being able to lead my very own team. The women on my team worked so well, too. We had many successful missions, small and big, and we were ready for this operation. We were ready for Operation Fawn.”

The air in your lungs stutters as you exhale, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat. You’ve avoided thoughts of the thirteen women who had become your friends, your family, but now you are submerged in the memories. Both joyous and tragic.

A few of the men around you look as if they want to move forward, to comfort you, but they also know that it isn’t their place to do so. Not yet.

“The plan was relatively straight-forward. We had found the location of the children, and so it was our job to silently infiltrate the site. Remove all hostiles, retrieve the missing kids, bring them back safely. It wasn’t unlike other missions we had completed before, so we were confident that we could execute it without fail.”

Pulse pumping loudly in your ears, heart beating violently in your chest, you begin to see flashes of that night, playing before your eyes without your permission.

“Get down!” A bullet whirs through the air where your lieutenant’s head had just been, close enough to be able to hear it cutting through the air. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, peeking around the corner of the collapsed wall for the rest of your team, “how the fuck are there so many of them?”

“Captain.” A voice cuts through the chaos, the intercom in your ear crackling to life. “They’re still pouring in - West entrance - all armed. There shouldn’t be this many men.”

You land shots on three oncoming men, their bodies falling to the ground, but they are quickly replaced by more on their way. You have to do something; you can’t allow your team⎯⎯or the children⎯⎯to die tonight.

While your lieutenant watches your back, you fiddle with the dial of your radio, changing to a different channel.

“Command, this is Dragon, do you copy?”

No response comes through, and you’re forced to move from the wall with your gun poised, firing shots at any unfamiliar figure you see.

“Command, this is Dragon, do you copy?!”

A grenade explodes a short distance away, shaking the ground and sending you stumbling.

“Command, this is Dragon, Operation Fawn has been compromised! I repeat, Operation Fawn has been compromised! Delta Team needs immediate backup, over a hundred hostiles, and counting!”

Either the commotion around you drowns out the voice in your ear, or you’ve yet again received no response. You are starting to get desperate.

“Jesus fuc⎯ we’re completely overwhelmed, Command! My team can only hold out for a little while longer, but these fuckers just keep pouring in! Something is wrong, there shouldn’t be this many of them, we can’t fucking⎯”

Somebody tackles you to the ground. Gunshots, shouts, dirt in your face, a hand on your throat. The man on top of you is heavy, but you’re able to roll him off of you and shoot him between the eyes.

The blood splatters across your goggles.

It’s all too much. There are men everywhere, and you can’t see any of your team members throughout the chaos. You can’t get through to your command centre. Everything that was supposed to be easy tonight has gone wrong. Something heavy, and dark⎯⎯something that feels a lot like doom and panic and we’re going to die⎯⎯lurks in your guts, but you can’t think about that right now. You have to find your girls, have to save these children, have to stay alive⎯

Your fist aches nearly as much as your thudding chest.

Images of death and violence fade away as you blink violently, flexing your fingers individually and then all together, mind still scrambled, still alert.

There are hands on your shoulders, solid and heavy and grounding, and a pair of soft eyes searching for yours. All eyes in the room are on you, but all you can focus on is Yoongi, who looks as if he knows, as if he understands.

And there is a fist-sized patch of red on his left cheekbone. God, your fist, his face, what have you done, oh god I’ve hurt him⎯

Cool air blows on the silent tears that stream down your cheeks, your bones trembling with adrenaline and fear and sorrow. He’s saying something, lips moving slowly, but the clouds in your head are muffling everything. His hands move to hold yours.

You recognise the movement of his lips as the words breathe, it’s okay, and you try your best to obey, but your throat has closed up, tight like the grip of that enemy soldier who had held you to the ground⎯

Yoongi brings one of your hands to his chest, pressing your fingers into him, and you faintly feel the thudding of a heartbeat against your palm. Then, he breathes in, slow and deep, and you follow.

In and out, one by one, Yoongi slowly guides you to breathe steadily once again, your chest growing less tight with each shaky gasp. The tears have stopped flowing, and your limbs have calmed into only a slight tremor, and the darkness in his eyes are captivating. You want to lean forward, let them swallow you whole, but you instead squeeze his hands in silent thanks.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers, and you realise that your head has calmed down enough to take in your surroundings. All seven are watching you with a careful and guarded eye, but you find no pity. It brings you a sliver of relief.

Rather than replying, you merely nod your head and allow Yoongi to pull you up onto shaky legs. Exhaustion is already weighing you down, and all you want to do is escape your own mind.

They have been once before. You, asleep in the spare room, and them, huddled together on the lounges. They are worried about you, but they are also much more; the fear in your voice, the heartache in each memory, was familiar to them. As they watched you relive your trauma, they relived theirs as well.

“I’m sorry, I-” Namjoon’s words stutter out, unsure, unplanned, unlike the way he usually speaks. “This is my fault. I should’ve known- it was too early to- and maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt...”

“Hey, no.” Seokjin’s hands on Namjoon’s shoulders are as firm as his words, kind eyes seeking regretful ones. “Don’t blame yourself; this is nobody’s fault. She made her decision to tell us. Don’t take that away from her. And we all know that she couldn’t help that reflex. Yoongi’s been hit harder.”

“We didn’t even hear the rest of the story,” Jimin pouts, nibbling his lower lip between his teeth. “Like, how she died, how her team died, what happened to the mission.”

“We’ll have to be patient,” Yoongi sighs. His cheek is already blue and purple, and will probably be fully healed in an hour. “We know the fundamentals, anyway. A mission that was supposed to be clear-cut somehow got turned on its head. It cost her team’s lives.”

“How does something like that even happen?” Next to Jimin, Taehyung’s pout is not quite as full, but still full of the emotions he is trying to keep in. “It isn’t just her team that got hit, but the entire Special Warfare Command. This was a big operation, guys, so something like this should’ve been prevented.”

“Do you think…” Jeongguk is clutching a pillow close to his chest. “Do you think somebody from the inside betrayed them?” Six faces turn to look at him, shocked at the implication, shocked that it makes sense. “I mean, the information about the operation would have been top secret. North Korea has resources, sure, but they shouldn’t have known the when, where, and how of the mission. Somebody had to have turned.”

“Who would’ve done it?” Jimin’s question is not asking for an answer. He feels sick at the thought.

It is at this moment that Hoseok chooses to emerge from his deep silence. When he speaks, his voice is regretful. Knowing. “I think she knows exactly who did it.”

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