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minisugakoobies · 7 months

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The Rules - Part 1 | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, crack, strangers to lovers, Weddingl!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: drinking, kissing, exhibitionism, reader gets fingerfucked in public, dirty talk, a little bit of praise, Fuckboi!Chan has a tongue ring and a lip ring, his charisma is off the charts, reader's got impulse control problems Word Count: 4K Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me

Summary: When your cousin asked you to be a bridesmaid, she gave you three simple rules to follow. Number one: Don't be late. Number two: Don't get super wasted. And rule number three: Don't fuck Chan.

A/N: This came from a request sent by @aprylynn back in, ummmm, let's not focus on how long this took and just enjoy 😆 This is just part 1, so let me know what you think - like if you want more! 💕

SKZ Masterlist

(dividers by @/saradika)

When your cousin asked you to be a bridesmaid, she gave you three simple rules to follow:

Number one: Don't be late. "To be early is to be on time. To be on time is to be late. To be late is to get cut out of the family. Don't think Halmeoni won't drop you from her will if I ask."

Number two: Don't get super wasted. "What if I have a bridal emergency and you're completely zooted, upchucking wine spritzers in the bathroom?" As if you'd drink a wine spritzer.

And rule number three: Don't fuck Chan.

She announced the third rule the first time you gathered with her and her other bridesmaids to discuss wedding details. Chan, it turned out, was her fiancé's "Best Bro" from his college frat days.

"Binnie was in a frat? Huh," was your response upon learning this new factoid.

Sun Hee rolled her eyes. "I know, it's weird, but he's grown up a lot since I met him. Chan, on the other hand…" she grimaced. "He's a fuckboy. Of the highest magnitude. S-class. A summa cum fuckboy."

"More like a someone's gonna come fuckboy, amiright?" maid of honor Ji-won snarked, cracking herself up, but she quickly stopped when Sun Hee gave her the evil eye.

"And that's bad because…" you drawled.

"Because every goddamn time one of my friends hooks up with his slutty ass, they completely lose their shit. And I! Do! Not! Have the time to deal with the fallout!" Sun Hee clapped her hands after each word, like a deranged cheerleader. "So keep your hands and your holes away from that man!"

At first, when you met the groomsmen at the engagement party, you thought to yourself that Sun Hee's rule was unnecessary. Apparently, Changbin only hung out with other ridiculously good-looking guys. Any one of them could probably show you an amazing time, if you so desired.

And then Bang Chan walked in.

Out of curiosity, you'd looked the guy up, scouring Changbin's insta for old photos. Just so you could see what all the fuss was about. It was pretty easy to identify why Sun Hee's friends were apparently throwing themselves at the man, between his muscular build, his warm eyes, and his heart-melting smile. And as a semi-famous music producer, he's a star on the rise, which only adds to his allure. But holy shit, you were not prepared for the charisma.

He strolled into the room in a leather jacket like he was walking onto a stage, radiating confidence from every inch of his rather thick frame, as if expecting an audience to start applauding at his presence. Maybe that's why you weren't surprised to see Changbin and his friends light up as they caught sight of their friend.

Of course, they weren't the only ones to notice him.

"Oh damn, look at the snack that just walked in," Ji-won whispered, tugging on your sleeve. "He's tasty."

"Yeah he is," another bridesmaid, Hae, piped up. "Is it too late to call dibs?"

"Gawi bawi bo!" Ji-won suddenly yelled, but you grabbed her hand as she threw a scissors symbol into the air.

"Sorry, ladies, but the bride's rules trump rock, paper, and scissors. That's Chan."

“That’s Chan? Well, shit.” Ji-won pauses. “Okay. Dibs on Jisung!”

“Wait a minute!”

Ignoring the horny squabbling going on beside you, you discreetly ogle Chan over the rim of your cocktail. Changbin really needs to update his insta, because you were not prepared for Chan’s blond hair. Or the lip ring. Or, fuck, you nearly choke on your old fashioned as Chan laughs and something silvery inside his open mouth catches your eye. Is that a tongue ring too?!

This man could not be more your type. Absolute catnip, and your kitty is eager for a taste.

Whoa now. Deep breaths. You can do this. You have to do this, because otherwise you’ll let your cousin down. You can practically hear her disapproving tone right now.

“Don’t even think about it.”

With a startled jump, you realize Sun Hee is standing next to you.

“Think about what?” you inquire, stirring your drink super casually. Like the most casually anyone’s ever stirred anything. Unbothered little rotations.

Sun Hee is not easily dissuaded. “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.”

“I promise you, I’m not thinking anything.” If only that were true. You’d give anything to be head empty no thoughts right now.

“I really wish I believed that,” Sun Hee sighs. “We both know you have a problem with… self-control.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she merely points to the glass in your hand, and you quickly snap it shut. You’ve only been at the party for maybe half an hour, and this is your second drink.

Sun Hee’s not wrong. It’s well known to all your friends that you have a tendency to eagerly embrace all the delights life has to offer. Maybe “eagerly” isn’t the right word. “Greedily” might be more accurate. Often, unfortunately, to your detriment. But how can you resist, when the universe is constantly throwing so many pleasures your way - especially when they come in such gorgeous packages as Chan?

“Yeah, okay, maybe sometimes I indulge myself a little, but I told you I wouldn’t sleep with him, so relax, okay? I’m not going to do anything to ruin your big day. I promise you!”

Sun Hee squints as she examines your face. Whatever she sees makes her smile, shoulders dropping in relief. “Thank you. Now let’s get this party started!”

As she and Changbin greet their guests, you take another long look at Chan. He turns suddenly, catching your eye. Your breathing nearly stops when his gaze sweeps over you from head to toe. Then he smirks, tongue ring flashing as he licks his lips.

Fuck. Okay. You can do this. You just need to exert a little willpower. Reign in those bad instincts of yours. Should be a piece of cake.

Right?

Somehow, the god of parties is on your side. Maybe it’s the drink you spill as you look for a spot to sit for dinner that pleases them - your tipsy faux pas is accepted as an offering. Whatever the reason, you manage to dodge Chan all evening.

He does offer you the seat next to him at dinner, but Ji-won waves you over to her table, so you refuse him with a polite shake of your head. Ji-won quickly engages you in assisting her with talking to Jisung, but all you end up saying is “Hey Jisung, haaave you met Ji-won?” before Ji-won takes over. Gal’s a talker, which is good, because Jisung’s a bit on the quiet side. Or maybe he just can’t find a place to jump into the conversation, since Ji-won doesn’t appear to need to breathe in order to speak.

After dinner comes more cocktails and gifts. While the maid of honor hands out gifts for Sun Hee and Changbin to open, you ignore Chan’s smile in favor of writing a list of who brought what, to help your cousin with her thank you notes later. Your Halmeoni would be so proud.

By the time the festivities wind down, you feel you’ve dodged a bullet. As everyone says their goodbyes, you linger behind, helping your cousin and Changbin carry their ridiculous haul of presents into their car. The trunk is stuffed full as you attempt to shove one more box onto the pile, only for an avalanche of ribbons and envelopes to send it clattering to the ground.

“Here, let me,” a pleasant voice hums in your ear as your fingers extend, reaching for the box, only for it to be swept up by another hand. And, of course, that hand is connected to the man you’ve been carefully avoiding all night. Guess the party gods have abandoned you.

“Thank you,” you reply politely, studiously avoiding his eyes as Chan beams at you. Jesus, he could literally light up a room with that megawatt smile.

“No worries.” He helps to push some of the packages back, preventing another deluge. “I’m Chan, by the way. I didn’t get a chance to introduce m’self earlier.”

You grant him a quick smile as you state your name, then glance over his shoulder, looking for backup - someone you can excuse yourself to catch up to, pretend they’re your ride home. But of course, everyone else is gone now, and your cousin and Changbin are back inside the restaurant, settling the bill.

“Am I holding you up from something?”

“Hmm?” You finally let yourself meet his gaze. It’s like you’ve been hit with the full force of the sun. Chan’s smile intensifies, eyes crinkling as he laughs lightly, and it’s too late, you can already feel yourself melting.

“You look like you’re looking for something. Or someone?”

“Oh. No, sorry, I was just making sure I hadn’t dropped anything on the way to the car,” you lie, clearing your throat awkwardly.

Chan nods, sliding his hands into his pockets as he leans against the car. “So… you’re Sun Hee’s cousin, right?”

You nod.

“She told me that you live here too,” he says. “It’s been years since I’ve been in town. I was thinking - since I’m gonna be here a few times between now and the wedding, I should find someone who can show me around a bit. Let me know what’s good.” He rolls his tongue over his lip ring. “Think you could help me out?”

Every time he drags his eyes down your body, you have to suppress a shiver of anticipation. He’s being incredibly obvious about what he means by showing him what’s good.

“I - “ can’t think of a valid excuse because you’re too busy picturing what he can do with that tongue ring. “I don’t know how much free time I’ll have, with everything Sun Hee needs me to do for the wedding. She’s gonna be so busy. So, um, I don’t think I can. Help you.” Not your smoothest response, but not the worst, either.

Chan’s eyebrow rises slightly. He looks away, nodding. “Right, of course. Can’t let your cousin down, can ya? So…” He pushes himself off the car, taking a step towards you. “What about tonight then? Any plans?”

Not a single one. An alarm goes off in your head as he takes another step closer. “Tonight?”

“Yeah. Maybe we could go somewhere and talk? I know I could just ask ‘Bin for suggestions, but…” he shrugs. “He’s pretty busy too. And honestly? He’s gotten all mellow on me. Too boring and settled-down, y’know?”

You laugh at his bluntness. “Binnie’s always been this way, as long as I’ve known him. You’re telling me he used to be different?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he hums, winking. “The stories I could tell… why don’t you let me buy you a drink, and maybe I’ll share a few?”

It’s very tempting, especially the thought of hearing some (hopefully) embarrassing tales about Changbin. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? One drink wouldn’t be too much, even given how much you’ve already had this evening. You’ll give him some suggestions of places to check out while he’s in town, he’ll divulge some of Binnie’s college shenanigans, and then you’ll say you’re tired and bounce. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

And then suddenly it’s two hours and several drinks later, and you’re nowhere near home.

You had originally suggested going to a favorite spot, a bar owned by a friend where you could drink for cheap (and also potentially have someone who could bail you out if things with Chan got a little hot and heavy), but upon arriving had found it closed for repairs of some sort. Chan’s hotel just happened to be a block away and it just happened to have a really nice bar, so you thought, why not?

Why not, indeed, you’re thinking to yourself, playing with the melting ice in your empty glass. Why not sit side-by-side in the booth, so you can hear each other better? You really didn’t want to miss a single word he said. Why not let Chan drape his arm around your shoulders, since the bar has the air conditioning set to arctic blast and your sundress is not nearly as warm as its namesake?

Chan has been nothing but a polite gentleman since you sat down, keeping you laughing with all of his deliciously embarrassing tales, to the point that your worries about crossing the line so firmly set by Sun Hee fade from your mind.

“And after that, we were banned from ever visiting Ikea again,” Chan finishes, a crooked grin crossing his face as he waits for you to stop laughing.

You wipe a tear from the corner of your eye. “I cannot believe Binnie did that! That is… just the greatest story I’ve ever heard,” you inform him. “Thank you so, so much for sharing that.”

Chan nods, leaning back against the vinyl of the booth seat. “Now, you’re not gonna run off and snitch to Changbin, are you? Tell him I’ve divulged all his dirty secrets?”

You press your hand to your chest, looking scandalized. “Absolutely not! I would never. Everything you’ve told me stays with me.” You pause. “Until I need it.”

“Fair.” His grin returns, cheekier than ever. “If you’re gonna use it for blackmail, I will be expecting a cut. Just to warn ya.”

A server stops by your table to grab your empty glasses and drop off the check. It feels like the perfect opportunity to bring the night to a close - thank Chan for the drinks, since he didn’t even attempt to argue with you about paying, simply dropped his card on the tray, thank him for the gossip, and bid him a good evening.

But no. You’re you, and so instead of saying “Thank you” or “Good night,” you say,

“I think we could come to an arrangement.”

Chan tilts his head, eyes roaming from your smiling lips down to your goose-dimpled thighs and back, and you realize you may have miscalculated a bit. Because the sweet expression on his face has vanished, replaced by a look of hunger so ravenous, your pulse quickens - the primal reaction of prey realizing it’s exactly where a hunter wants it.

“Could we now?” He shifts slightly, the arm around your shoulders falling between you as he signs the receipt. He taps the pen on the table. “I like the sound of that.”

You do too, which is why there are klaxons suddenly blaring in your head. You should really leave. Instead of sliding further into the corner of the booth as Chan casually leans forward, blocking your view of the rest of the bar.

That’s when the hand that was at Chan’s side creeps its way onto your exposed thigh.

“I…” you trail off, totally engrossed by his fingers as they roam, unable to tear your eyes away. They’re more callused than you’d expected, roughened tips catching slightly on your soft skin in an enticing manner. “I do too.”

He’s just a whisper away now, deep brown eyes fixed on your mouth as he smiles, a warm thing that sharpens as he says, “Maybe we should hammer out some terms? Y’know, just in case? We don’t have to talk here…” His hand slips ever so slightly down the inward curve of your thigh. “We can take this to my room. For privacy. Unless…”

Sucking in a breath, you meet his eyes, and let your legs fall open just a bit. Chan huffs out a pleased laugh and his hand disappears beneath your skirt.

The klaxons in your brain are completely silent now, but thankfully the bar is not. The jazzy music drifting down from the overhead speakers covers your tiny whimper when Chan skims his fingers along the newly formed damp patch in your underwear.

“Mmm, someone seems to be into the idea of being touched in public. Are you into that, love?”

As a matter of fact, you are, and it’s one of the many vices that’s gotten you in trouble in the past. You just can’t help yourself. Just like right now, even knowing you should walk away, that you might make a mess of things, you’re unable to stop.

You don’t want to stop, so you nod.

He arranges himself so he’s propped his head up on his elbow on the table. To anyone looking at your table, it just looks like the two of you are absorbed in deep conversation, huddled close, but not close enough to cause anyone’s eye to linger.

Or so you hope, biting your lip to stifle a whine when Chan’s fingers push your panties aside.

“Good. Cause I am, too.” And then he’s pressed his finger inside you, groaning quietly at how easily it glides through your folds. His tongue plays with the small hoop nestled in the center of his plush bottom lip. “Oh, shit, you really like this. So fucking wet, dirty girl.”

There’s no reason to argue with him. If it wasn’t clear by the ridiculous amount of slick between your legs, it’s clear by the way you cant your hips forward, trying to urge him to slip his whole middle finger in too as he teases you with the tip. With a throaty chuckle, he obliges.

“There you go. Is that what you needed?”

“Mmm,” you hum, muffling your moan with pursed lips. He strokes inside you languidly, enjoying the choked breaths that punch their way out of your throat, before adding another finger.

You bow your head slightly, trying to hide behind Chan, who leans forward with a smirk, close enough for his lips to brush your cheek. If you turned your face a little, you could kiss him right now, but you’re too focused on the way he’s playing your pussy like one of his soundboards, tweaking and fondling just right, to do anything but try to breathe.

“Can I tell you something?” he whispers.

“A-anything.”

“I had my eye on you all during the party. Kept trying to get your attention, wanted to convince you to go home with me tonight. ‘M glad it worked out.”

“Who, hnngh, who said I’m going home with you?” you manage to spit out around your groans.

Chan’s fingers still. “Wait, you don’t wanna come back to my room?”

“I didn’t say that.” The look he gives you makes you feel dangerous, having such an irresistible man hanging on your every word. It’s such an intoxicating power. “I just meant I’m not convinced y-yet, fuck.”

You stutter as Chan starts tracing your inner walls, caressing your g-spot hard enough to make you curse. He’s accepted the gauntlet you’ve thrown down with surprising speed, and you suck on the insides of your cheeks, biting gently into your own mouth to keep from shouting out loud.

“Something you should know about me, love - ‘m a bit competitive. I don’t back down from challenges.”

Chan’s fingers plunge faster and faster, alternating thrusts with strokes. The more his speed increases, the more his arm flexes, biceps rippling under his tight t-shirt. If the bartender were to just glance over, he’d see the way your head is tipped back in ecstasy, and there’s no denying the pleasure flitting across your face. You could be caught so easily.

“Look at you, taking it so well. Bet you’d look so good taking my cock.”

Your eyes fall to the obvious bulge in Chan’s lap. You just know he’d feel so good. Why didn’t you take this to his room? You could be riding him right now.

Oh well, you’ll just have to let him keep fingering you until you cum all over his hand in the middle of this bar.

You’re getting close now, but his plunging fingers aren’t quite enough to give you what you so desperately desire. Unashamed to beg for what you want, you gasp out, “More,” hands balling into fists as tight as the knot inside you.

Chan smirks. His thumb finds your clit. You find the edge. And fall right over.

“Shiiiiit,” you groan, thighs twitching together, muscles contracting to trap Chan’s hand as an orgasm overtakes you, shockingly fast. So he doesn’t back down from challenges and he’s an overachiever.

“There you go, love,” he coos. Your abdomen shakes from the force of your climax. He slowly circles your oversensitive nub until he finally stops, and one final shudder passes through you. “Made such a mess for me.”

Your only response is a string of curse words that would send Halmeoni right to her grave. Chan laughs, bringing his hand to his mouth, and you swear again as he thoroughly cleans his fingers with his tongue, rolling the little stud over and around.

“Have I convinced you now?” he asks, eyes gleaming, tone smug. So, so smug. It’s almost shameful how hot you find that.

You’re definitely convinced of his skills. And if you go back to his room with him, there’s no telling what other talents he might share.

Then again… if he works this hard to impress you now….

With a polite smile, you gently pat his arm, silently asking him to give you some space to shimmy your panties back into place. His eyebrow lifts as he waits for your answer.

“Not really.”

Based on his dazed expression, it’s pretty evident that Chan has never gotten anything less than a rave response to his skills. How absolutely delightful. Your shoulders shake with suppressed laughter as he blinks at you.

“Thank you for the drinks. But I should really get going, got a ton of stuff to do with Sun Hee in the morning.” Not a total lie, since you do have plans for brunch with your cousin and the other bridesmaids. But brunch never usually stops you from anything.

“Come on, love - you really want to leave now?” He’s recovered from his shock, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. “The night’s just getting started. That was just a small taste of what could happen.” He leans in, lips just brushing your ear as he murmurs, “Don’t you want more?”

Chan’s a fighter. Good to know.

“Mmm, maybe. But not tonight.”

He pulls back, searching your gaze. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You laugh, nudging him with your knee. Chan slowly rises to his feet, shuffling aside to let you out of the booth. The stupefied look is back. Baffled hunter realizing his trap didn’t spring.

“Well… if you change your mind, you know where I am. Room 143.”

He rubs the back of his neck as he speaks, and there’s something kind of sweet about it, like he’s a little unsure of himself, possibly for the first time in his life, so you place your hands lightly on his chest. Damn, he’s so solid. He could definitely rail you through the wall of this bar, if you so asked.

But not tonight.

“Sweet dreams, Chan.” Your words warms his lips as you cross the space between you. Even though his hands grip your hips, even though his tongue tastes like scotch, even though the moan he exhales sends shivers from your head to your toes, you break away, and head for the door.

As you sit in the lobby, waiting for your ride, it’s impossible not to pat yourself on the back, gloating over your victory. You kept your promise to your cousin and got to tease an incredibly hot man into giving you an orgasm at the same time. But what strikes you the most was the wild glint you saw in Chan’s eye as you walked away.

This is going to be so much fun.

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loganlermanstanaccount · 6 months

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please don't kill me mr ghostface (part 1)

(AO3 Mirror), (Main Masterlist), (Kinktober '23 Masterlist)

(Part 2 - coming soon!)

pairing: stalker!Miguel x f!reader, slight yandere undertones. (he's a murderer lowkey but very gentle and sweet and scary hot that's all guys I promise.)

summary: murders on campus. the odd toothbrush goes missing. what's new, honestly. life keeps ticking and you end up at a Halloween party somewhere you shouldn't. there, you meet a gorgeous man in a strange mask. he seems sweet, and all you're looking for is a bit of fun. what could go wrong?

warnings: 18+ , fingering, anal play (mig eats ass, send tweet!) , rimming, p in v, soft dom mig, some switchy + needy behaviour, mild threat of violence (not by mig), alcohol consumption. Minors DNI

a/n: 5k words of ignoring red flags. girl get a grip!

wc: 5.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You look too good to feel this shitty.

That's the thought you're left with, picking at flimsy spiderwebs draped on a sofa. Sandwiched between two couples making out like their life depends on it, of course, but that's beside the point.

“Someone said there's CCTV of a guy walking out the building at 3am… seems a little convenient, if you ask me…”

There's a TV on in the background, barely cutting through the dense chatter. By this point, your eyes have glazed over, trying not to let them rattle around in your skull. Drunken conversation around you, and it's the same thing as always; long, winding tales of a campus killer - the kind out of a cheesy slasher. What the news says, officially, is that there weren't any links between those 3 bodies that turned up out on the playing field, an empty dorm, a supply closet; but it hasn't stopped people from indulging in wild speculation.

“No, no, she just didn't turn up to my Econ class….I swear–”

Stay in pairs. Don't walk alone at night. Whilst you think it's all tangential at best, you're not one to tempt fate. The gossip, you could do without. But it doesn't hurt to keep yourself safe, pepper spray nestled in your usual bag.

Tonight, however, you've left it at home, thinking the friends you came with would be enough. Somewhere, somehow, they're off chugging shit beer and you're milling about the place and sinking into couch cushions. There's something sticky by the seat, and there's a crackle as you're jostled - the sharp edge of a stray elbow almost knocks your drink away.

Fuck.

For one night only, you're a cheerleader. A short, short skirt and little top; it has you feeling overdressed. Even though you've left the pompoms at home, next to your taser; seemingly, you've read the mood wrong - stupidly assuming people would dress up for a Halloween party. As you make your way to the kitchen, tugging down your skirt here and there, that's all you can see; half-hearted costumes - cat ears, white sheets and flimsy masks. It feels like you stick out in comparison. You've gone all out, with nothing but the threat of a beer sodden lap for your trouble.

It's a big house. Alpha-delta-phi, kappa-something-or-the-other; a frat with too much money and too much time on their hands. With all the doors you walk past, shallow thuds and thumping ringing out behind them, you're as good as lost. The best ragers this side of campus - as raved about by one of your friends. It feels like bucketfuls of horseshit right now, wandering around packed halls - and oh. Is that the same staircase?

“ Fuck, watch it!” You clatter into the side of an arm, a t-shirt with a superman symbol emblazoned at the chest. He's pretty, but his features curl into a sudden sneer.

" Sorry –" You start but he doesn't let you finish, wagging a thick finger in your face.

There's a girl draped on his arm, merely watching as he shouts; loud over pumping music from the next room over.

"Hey, dipshit , you gonna keep staring? Mouth open like a fucking fish– do you know how much this shit costs?" Your eyes are wide, as he gets closer - stinking of alcohol and pot and God knows what else. You're not drunk enough to entertain this, shirking away from confrontation. The room is hot, his breath is sticky , and–

He grabs your arm. Immediately you're trying to wrench yourself away, not daring to look into blown pupils. Clammy, his grip tightens on bare skin and your stomach churns. He's solid, bigger than you and unable to keep the anger out of his voice…. and fuck. You're scared.

Fear, rising like bile at the back of your throat. Bitter and sharp, fear at the fact that there isn't anyone to help; that everyone else looks away and pretends that this isn't happening. Fear at the spittle that sprays from his mouth like poison, stinging skin. You screw your eyes shut, expecting a slap, a blow, or something worse and then…

Thud. The hand around your wrist is no more, replaced by a gentle pat on your shoulder. Nothing lingering, just a light touch to get you to open your eyes; to see that guy on the floor, clutching at a swollen jaw and split lip.

"You okay? "

It's deep, muffled by a mask, and the figure in front of you has to crouch to be heard over incessant chatter.

You're nodding, sheepishly, not trusting yourself to keep that edge out of your voice.

Ghostface, the masked man, the only other person at this party properly dressed up; he only cocks his head in a gesture that says a thousand words. His robe pools around his wrists, thick fabric that you grab onto without thinking, grip just as tight as your would-be assailant. You don't even want to think about it, what could've happened if someone hadn't stepped in. It has you biting back tears, more shaken than you'd like to admit.

"H-Hey, hey, easy…" He's rubbing little circles into your shoulder, hesitant. Your lip wobbles, ever so slightly, but he catches it, gently pulling you aside.

There isn't a crowd. The stragglers, those that saw the display, barely look at the guy on the floor, scrambling to his feet and far away. In the meantime, you fight off tears and force yourself to flash a shaky smile.

"Good. " You croak, taking his hands off your shoulders. "F-Fuck , I mean… I'm good. Thank you."

He doesn't quite budge, giving you that strange look again. At least, you think so, rearing up to his full height to cross his arms. Quiet incredulity, almost cartoonish, and it almost makes you laugh. Almost.

"Let me get you a drink… some water, or something." He says, stretching out a gloved hand. Sensing your hesitance, he quickly adds, "... Please ."

Chewing your lip, you only have to think for a second before taking it, and you're led out through double doors. Your masked man is big; broad shouldered and hulking, cutting through the writhing mass with ease. It's just as well, you think, unable to sort through the tangle of things that rattle around in your head. You hate this fucking school, sometimes. Boys will be boys. Wear more appropriate clothing. Well, wasn't she just asking for it? A culture of inaction; of hand-wringing and hand-waving… passing on the blame until three dead bodies show up on campus.

That's one thing you have to thank the so-called serial killer for, at least. At least something might actually change around here.

Empty, the kitchen is a mess, but nothing you wouldn't expect. Drink long gone; a distant memory spilled on a carpet, somewhere; you perch awkwardly around a counter, not knowing where to put your hands. Rattled, you've resorted to a glassy stare; stewing and festering and thinking so intensely it might frighten off your masked man.

It doesn't. He merely taps you, a gentle elbow to your side and he offers you a glass of water. Weakly, you give him a smile, gulping up the liquid.

"You here by yourself ?" He asks, muffled by plastic.

You can't help it, eyes wide at the implication - a masked man, a killer on campus - and he must realise the way it sounds.

In no time at all, he clarifies, "I just mean… fuck … is there someone I can call? So you're not alone."

It's a kind gesture. Kinder than you'd expect from a stranger. Slowly, you shake your head.

"They ditched me about an hour ago." You give a bitter laugh. "Just me and you, Mr Ghostface."

And with that he laughs; deep and sonorous, causing heat to bloom at your chest. Despite yourself, you smile, and you swear you see a glint of something behind the mask.

It has you itching for a drink. All of a sudden you make your way across the room, swiping at empty beer bottles and cans, rummaging around for some hard liquor. When you find it - a half empty bottle of something that smells like carpet cleaner and acetone - you're taking a swig, and offering it to the man across from you. It's sneaky, but you don't think he clocks your paltry attempt to see what he looks like under that mask.

He shakes his head, hands up in defeat.

"You sure?" Your voice is lilting, hazy around the edges. Creeping up closer, you press your body to his, taking another unceremonious gulp. Under that cloak - heavy, somewhat well made - you can feel him, lean and cut muscle that tenses as you get closer.

Batting your eyelashes, you make full use of the cheerleader get-up, snaking a dainty hand to his side, and then up to the counter. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was ogling you, chest taught and tight at the way you feel against him.

Or maybe, he's bored as shit. You wouldn't know - with the mask, and all.

Wobbly, you clamber up onto the counter, helped up by a gentle hand at the small of your back… and oh. You like that: big, thick fingers that press into you, carefully tracing your waist… and why won't they go down a little further? Grab handfuls of the flesh at your thighs, your ass, everything in between?

He's too conservative for that, you think. Nervous, too. Nevertheless, he slots between your thighs, big palms flat next to your ass.

"I… I don't mind watching." He says, voice low.

It makes you giggle as you drink, sweet and soft, and liquid dribbles past your lips, down to collarbone. Mr Ghostface is gentle, tracing a finger across the juncture of your neck, light pressure on the vein that sits nice and pretty at its side.

It goes to your head. The alcohol, the large man of few words with a hand on your neck. When he finishes swiping at the liquid and pulls his hand away, you curl your hand around his, bringing it to your lips. Pert lips wrap around his finger, tongue swiping over leather, and you swear you can hear his breath hitch - heart clearly skipping a beat.

"Careful…" You say, leaning forward to press your tits against him, brushing away imaginary fluff from his shoulders. "I really like this costume."

"I like it too." He clears his throat. "You look nice."

"Nice? Is that all I get, Mr Ghostface?" You're teasing, tracing up his broad chest to his neck and then just under his chin. Carefully, you hook a finger under the thin strap of his mask, tugging ever-so gently.

Quickly, he stops you.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You pout, flashing him a frustrated look - and God , does he want to kiss it off of you.

"But soon?"

"If you're good." You swear you can hear him smile, hands wrapping around your waist.

You get a bit bolder, hand tracing up his sleeve, clutching at thick, corded forearm. Watching intently as he keens, pushing you to the edge of the kitchen counter with only one hand at your back. This close, you even like the way he smells, like rust and oil and earth, the way he feels around you; strong arms caging you in, protecting you. You feel safe, for some reason.

When he sighs into you, exposing a sliver of tan neck, you feel your knees go weak - unable to stop yourself from mouthing at it, pressing little kisses into the skin. He seems so sensitive, rocking into the counter for some pressure already, clutching you closer and closer until there's a hickey blooming just under sharp jawline.

"Fuck- " He hisses, pawing at your waist a little more desperately.

Suddenly self conscious, you separate with a wet smack, and inspect your handiwork.

"Shit." Eyes wide, you press a finger into the flesh. Your masked man winces. "M'sorry. Got carried away."

He heaves, placing his head on your shoulder for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

"It's fine," He strains. "Don't worry… s'fine."

Admittedly, he doesn't seem too fine, adjusting what feels like a painful hard-on beneath a loose cloak.

Cradling his head so he can look at you, you whisper something bold, even for someone who's downed more than a couple shots worth of cheap liquor.

"I know somewhere… I-I think … that we could go if you wanted to…" His head lolls, and you hear him swallow roughly. "Somewhere quiet . We'd be alone. Just us."

A beat passes and you think you might've read this wrong, much too forward for your own good. It’s why he surprises you by nodding - slowly, at first, and then with more conviction. Taking your hand, he snakes it under his mask, and you almost gasp when you feel soft, plump lips at your knuckles and palm, pressing shaky kisses to the skin.

“I need to do something first.” He says it so quietly, you almost miss it under the mask. “Where can I meet you?”

You don’t ask questions.

“Pool house.” You nod towards the windows, overlooking a sizable pool. People mill about its edges, but you know the little house is off-limits for the night. “Side entrance. They… leave it unlocked, sometimes.”

He doesn’t ask questions.

Before he goes, he snakes a hand under your skirt, giving your ass a sizable squeeze - leaving you breathless.

You don’t feel the cold as you slip out, playing with a loose thread at the hem of your skirt. The side entrance is stiff but unlocked, and you duck past a screen, head on a swivel. Like a good girl, you sit on plush cushions, thighs pressed together to relieve a pressure that has been building since you met your masked man. And you want to touch yourself; to circle that little bud with clumsy fingers, imagining it was him.

You wait. And you wait. You settle between the cushions, adjust your skirt, look at your hair through a makeshift mirror - the glossy surface of windows overlooking the pool. Not wanting to risk turning on the lights, you wander past what little streams in from across the pool; flashing and pounding with the heady bass of music. You can't help but wonder where he's gone, if he's even coming, and what he had to do so desperately that he'd leave you wanting more.

At this point, you don't even care if he takes off his mask. You don't want to know a name, or see the real man underneath the costume. You just want him; writhing underneath as you bounce on his fat cock.

"Hey."

That voice makes you jump, swiveling to face him. How did he get in without you noticing? He was so quiet, so–

"Missed you." He says it so soft, it makes you melt, walking slowly towards him. Shrouded in shadow, as you get closer you notice he's shed his cloak, donned in a white t-shirt and straight leg jeans. Big boots, thick with fresh mud, thud onto the tile. When you meet, two figures cut by bright light, you almost gasp. He's taken off the mask. Instead of Mr Ghostface, you're met with a man - and he is so, so beautiful .

Tan skin. High cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass. His hair is haphazardly slicked back, fluffy and curly in all the right places. But it's his eyes: mischievous and glinting and serious all at the same time - absolutely gorgeous. You could look at him like this forever; chest heaving, messy, out of breath.

Your hand comes to his chest. He’s hot to the touch, clasping his great big hand atop yours. Squeezing, he pulls you closer, other hand creeping up bare thigh, before hooking under your ass in a move that makes you squeal.

From this close, his lashes look so pretty; wispy and romantic and yearning.

"You look beautiful.” He doesn’t kiss you, not yet, content with only watching - studying you with sharp eyes. “Always do."

All you hear are the compliments, too tipsy to notice what the stranger implies. You're not usually one for a one night stand, but he is intoxicating - intense in a way that's hard to explain.

Carding one hand through the curls at the nape of his neck, you press your lips to his in a kiss that starts off sweet and quickly deepens. He is hungry and devouring; licking up your moans with plump lips.

You lead him to the sofa, only separating for fleeting breaths. Eyes low, illuminated by a flash of light here and there; you force yourself to concentrate on him , shuddering breaths and all. He’s hard, rocking into your lower half splayed out beneath him and arms caged around your head. It’s sly, but you snake a hand past his t-shirt, across his back and then fumble with the belt. It makes him smile, soft laughter spilling into your parted lips; before he sits up above you.

“You want it that bad, huh?” Windswept, he croons, batting away your hands to unbuckle the clasp himself.

You groan, shifting upwards. You don’t notice the way his eyes dart down, eying up the peek of thigh that spills out of little shorts.

“Say it f’me, sweetheart.” He hikes up your skirt, exposing your covered cunt. He’s gentle, pawing at the flesh, pressing the heel of his palm right above your clit.

“F-Fuck!” The pressure is delicious, and you roll your hips up, up, up; chasing some semblance of relief. When he stops, you whine - clutching at his forearm, frustrated. “Want it, please .”

“Want what?” He prompts, lifting his shirt over his head in one quick movement. You’re met with the wide span of his chest, muscle taut and tight above you.

“Want you in me. I want… I want you to fuck me ‘til I break, pound my fucking hole so hard I can feel it in the morning. I want– ”

You’re babbling, now, spurred on by the way he tugs off black shorts, lifting up your legs to slip them off. He’s too slow, clearly enjoying watching you squirm and writhe.

“You can have it, sweetheart.” He coos, before capturing you into another kiss. This time, he separates and you follow him up; finally parting with a wet smack. “I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it… but you gotta do something first.”

“ Anything .” You breathe.

“Fuck yourself, for me. I…I–”

“You like to watch.” You finish it for him, breathless.

“Please.” His head dips low; big, red-brown eyes never leaving yours.

The way he says it leaves you panting, hung off of every word. And you croon, leaning back into couch cushions, already hot at the way he kneads his thumbs to the flesh near your pussy. This close, he can see the way your cunt pulses, eating up a tiny thong between glistening lips. He’s kneeling on the floor, now, snaking his body around to get a perfect view, flashing looks between both your pretty lips.

More than willing to oblige, you pat at your clit, sending sweet pleasure coursing through your lower half. Even though your legs tremble, he holds you down, placing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. Slipping your thong to the side, you dip two fingers past your slit, gathering up slick to press carefully into your hole.

“So… so pretty. ” He sighs, not daring to close his eyes despite the pleasure he feels. When you notice how his other hand is buried in his pants; jerking up and down to match your pace. You start slow, for now, pumping two fingers in and out, heel of your palm snug against your clit. The sounds are obscene, the wet schlick-schlick ringing out in the quiet room.

“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever s-seen.” Your stranger moans, slathering over your thighs with sloppy kisses, occasionally swiping at your knuckles. Lower and lower, as you get faster and faster, his tongue makes you feel amazing. You’re close - entranced by your spot in the limelight and the sharp eyes that watch every ministration.

It’s only when you’re knuckle deep, well and truly fucking yourself ; chasing something just out of reach with his help; when two things happen, catching you by surprise. The first, the one that sends electricity down your spine, that makes you jolt and shiver and almost cum right then and there…

…is a wet kiss pressed to your asshole. He slathers and slobbers and licks large stripes up and down; ripping a great moan out from you. He doesn’t stop there, spreading the globes of your ass to delve deeper, tongue-fucking you as your hand stills - unable to concentrate on anything else. Pornographic, he humps his lower half to the same pace, sealing his mouth over your hole. With the vibrations of his moans sending pleasure straight to your clit, you finally cum - a rolling, bubbling orgasm that ends just as intensely.

The second thing that happens, just as you fall off the edge, is that you’re plunged into darkness. The lights from across the pool, once bright and flashing; are cut off. The music stops, and chatter dies down. Your stranger holds you through it, licking up cum from your neglected cunt, whispering sweet things into the skin.

“There it is, baby. Nice n’ slow.” He soothes as you whimper, hand tight in his hair.

In the dark, you’re heaving, feeling him slow down as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty. Shaky, you sit up on your haunches as he follows you up.

“Is everything…? What happened?” You’re a little panicked, shaken up from your orgasm.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. ” He rubs little circles into bare skin. “Too much?”

You shake your head, nuzzling into him. He gives your forehead a kiss, and you feel warmth bloom across your chest.

He shifts. “Just give it a…”

As if on cue, a generator whirs to life, flooding the little room in red light. Something similar seems to happen across the pool, as you take a quick glance to the window.

Your head is a little fuzzy. It aches as you catch his eye, looking at you intently.

“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to–”

“No.” You say it resolutely, with so much force it even catches you off guard. “I want to.”

“Fuck.” He mutters, brows pressed together imperceptibly.

For someone you’ve just met, he still looks at you like ice about to melt, like he’s bearing witness to the last breaths of a dying star. He looks at you like he knows you; like he knows how many half-truths and one-night stands you’ve had to endure. It makes you shiver; here, bathed in crimson light, pressed against one another.

He starts with your lips, a gentle thumb pressed flat, and then deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s like before, you realise, the taste of liquor and leather long gone. He keeps his eyes on you, careful as he pops the thumb out, groaning at the length of spit that comes with a flash of your pink tongue. You splay yourself out underneath him, drinking in the sight above; your stranger, your masked man once upon a time, shirtless and breathless and rock hard against your cunt. Now, he tugs down black boxers, its band cut across his torso just so. Thick hair; dark, curly, neatly trimmed; and you reach to trace down his happy trail, to get a hand on his pretty cock.

He just watches , eyes dark, leaning forward to rock into your soft palm and put his mouth on the skin that pillows out from a tight crop top. To give him more access, you tug it down, exposing sensitive nipple. And then that tongue; searching, inquisitive, precise; wraps itself around the flesh. You keen - a pretty moan that has his heart fluttering and eyes clasped shut.

“Inside.” At first, it’s a whisper, said in the throes of deep pleasure. You repeat it, slowing your hand at his cock.

When he doesn’t answer; still slathering at your tits, pawing the flesh that spills out from your costume; you tug, a sharp thing that has him moaning and sitting up on his haunches.

“Said I wanted you inside, baby.” You say - and his breaths are deep, his eyes are wild. “Do you want it? Do you want me?”

“A-Always….course I— ” He stops himself, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Finally, he nods and you continue, satisfied.

“Watch.” You titter, reaching down to line him up; carefully gathering slick up at the head of his cock. His tip weeps; shuddering like your stranger does above, getting close and hitching up you up to stay flush against you. His eyes stay trained downward. Inside, he mouths at your neck, groaning once his cock sinks into your fluttering hole.

There’s a tightening grip at your hips, big hands bunching up the skirt to keep you close, with a careful pressure at your clit. That sends heat coursing through your veins, tasting deep crimson in the air. He fucks; up close and humping like he wants to crawl into your skin, with a fervour you’ve never encountered before. It has you hot and sticky, desperate for that biting edge that keeps slipping from dainty fingers. You start to put a hand at your clit, tracing between your bodies when a strong hand pulls it away. Firm.

“No, no, no…” He whispers it, putting your wandering hand to his face, kissing the palm.

“Please. ” You whine. “M’close. So close.”

You feel him twitch inside, hips stuttering at your tone.

“No.” He says it again, resolute. “I’m going to make you cum. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart… just… just be patient. Please. For me .”

You’re reaching up for a kiss, of which he obliges. This time, it stays sweet; pink tongues swiped over lips.

“Look at me.” His hips shift, changing angles to hit that sweet spot like you’ve been moulded to his dick - like he knows just where to touch you to make you fall apart. “Look at me, hermosa. Ohh f-fuck, you take me so well… so pretty. You gonna milk my cock? Feels so good around me, sweetheart, like you were made for me. Like we’re ... L-Like–”

You groan, unable to tear yourself away from his writhing form: strong, lean muscles, tensing in the red light. And oh, isn’t he pretty, mere moments away from release, from spilling thick cum inside you.

“M’gonna–”

“I know, I know, hermosa. ” You like the way he says it, rolling off his tongue like honey; treacled and sweet. “Cum f’me, sweetheart. Want to feel you clamp around my cock. Cum for me. ”

And just like that, you’re gone; nails digging into his back as you careen off a steep cliff’s edge. Your stranger quickly follows, pulling out to wrap a tight hand around the base of his cock, spilling onto your stomach as you clench around nothing.

You’re whining, getting ready to complain; why hasn’t he come inside? why doesn’t he want to stay?; when he stills, settling by your side. Propped up by one arm, he crouches down to stroke at your cheek, to touch your jaw, moving your head this way and that - as if he’s looking for something hidden behind bright eyes.

In the red of the emergency lights, you suppose you’re looking for something too. A beat passes, and then another. The generator splutters, whirring and coughing. The lights turn off; replaced by the noise and white lights from across the pool.

So lost in one another, you hadn’t quite noticed; everything else falling away.

He clears his throat, clambering off of the sofa and tugging up his trousers. Quickly, he returns, a bundle of towels draped across his bare shoulders, and then he wipes off the cum - gently, separating sweaty limbs. Your costume is more or less intact, but you’re unable to do more than just lay there. He’s diligent and patient, not in any sort of rush. When you sit up, he pulls on a shirt, kneeling by your legs to play with a loose thread at your skirt. Too intimate, you suppose. With his head on your lap, you don’t think you care.

“We should leave.” You say it first, what’s been left in the air for someone else to pick apart.

“We should.”

“Can’t leave together.” You say simply, curling a hand in his hair.

Humming, he looks up lazily, with a hint of a smile. “You go first.”

Neither of you make a move to get up.

“Mr Ghostface,” You start, giggling. “What happened to your mask?”

“Lost it.” He’s cryptic. Finally, he stands.

Your stranger stretches out a rough palm, and you take it, getting up on shaky legs. You almost collapse onto his chest, but he’s there; solid, stoic. Looking up, and it catches you off guard: the intensity of his stare, how he watches in a way that makes you feel stripped bare.

“You first.” He repeats, still holding on.

He’s pretty. Of course he is, but the shadow and light makes his features even more pronounced. In the quiet, you take the opportunity to catch him off guard; standing on tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Jaw tight, he doesn’t react the way you want him to: ever-still, passive. Fuck. You’ve read it wrong: not used to the intensity of this kind of foray. After all: a one night stand seems too reductive, doesn’t quite span the depths and furrows of how your stranger has taken you apart. Finally, you leave the strange man still standing in the pool house. You don’t dare to look, but you can feel him; the weight of his stare at your back.

You can feel his hands, too; the ghost of his touch lingering as you make your way back to the house, mingling with the crowd.

~~~

You don’t tell your friends. You make your back home after the party, bundled into a taxi with a hand tight around your own wrist. It doesn’t feel like his hand on yours - not even close.

“I didn’t actually fuck him yesterday!” Your friend tugs on your sleeve, giggling into your shoulder as she recounts her night. A debrief with the girls turns into hungover breakfast-bleeding-into-lunch at your dorm. They’re bundled onto the sheets, some eating greasy takeout and others nursing bludgeoning headaches.

You’re fine, mostly. A little bit of liquid courage, but your hangover pales in comparison to some - catatonic on your rug and scrolling through their phone in a limbo-like state.

“You didn’t fuck him, but you wanted to.” Someone pipes up, and the conversation devolves into raucous laughter.

You laugh, tucked into yourself. The wonders of a half-dozen sophomores during Halloween - able to grin despite the shit storm that’s been mounting. Campus killers notwithstanding - they make you smile, at least.

“Were you there towards the end?” Someone asks, poking an elbow at your side. “When there was that blackout?”

You nod, simply - not trusting yourself to say more.

“I-I mean…” Her voice is suddenly shaky, thrusting a phone into your unsuspecting hands. “Well… they’re saying it must have happened then, or around that time.”

You squint, confused.

“And it could’ve been anyone, I suppose. There were like, what, a hundred people there? More? ”

“What?”

“A body. They found a body - by the pool house, or something…”

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #kinktober #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #kat_writes😼

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mitch-the-silly · 2 months

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Hi hi hi hi hi big fan of your writing :3 do ya think you can do a vox x female reader when their out in public and some ones hits on reader??? *Disclaimer* I luv u (platonically)

Omg I love this idea and I love you too (platonically as well)!! Vox is my bbg and any idea to get me writing for him is literal heaven-

Anyway, he's a bit of a Yandere, I just know it!!! So here!

Vox x fem!reader

Oneshot!

"Aggro of a Bleeding Heart"

It was rare when you and Vox decided to roam Petagram City. The amount of low-class sinners that also roamed the place made it unsafe not just because of the extreme classicism the Vees believed in, but because crime was as high as you’d expect a city in Hell to be. Of course, today was an exception because you two were on your way to an exclusive club and you just refused to drive to a place so nearby.

So when you arrived at this club, he chose a table for the both of you and got up to greet some fellow overlords. You simply sat there, fancy purse in hand as you patiently waited for your Vox. You were always well-dressed and put together. It was one of the many benefits of being an Overlord’s girlfriend. A particular piece of your outfit that you always flaunted was a huge “V” shaped broach he’d given you. His hat logo atop of the letter. Some people commented on it seeming like him taking ownership of you (which might be true deep down within Vox’s heart) but truth be told, to you, it was a symbol of how close he was to your heart.

Now, needless to say, looking that pretty attracted men to you. All of which you rejected immediately. But rejection didn’t stop men at times. As was the case with the sinner who was flirting with you right now.

“Come on babe~ He probably doesn’t even pay attention to you~ And he definitely doesn’t please you.” The sinner smirked, pointing at your broach.

You made a face of slight disgust at him, “You don’t know anything about me, ok?” You huffed, undignified.

“Oh, I but I bet he doesn’t treat you right. Come on…~ Ditch that flat screen bastard. C’mon, you know you wanna…~” He insisted. You shook your head, suddenly noticing a figure behind him. Good, this would be over soon.

"I already told you, I'm not interested." You scoffed.

Behind him stood Vox, electricity cracking behind him and fangs out like a bloodthirsty animal. He was beyond protective of you and upon seeing another man speaking to you while you tried to move away from him, he knew he had to jump in.

“Í̷̬s̶̨͂ ̶̟͆ḧ̴̖e̸͆͜ ̷̯̊b̷̗̄o̶̡̐ẗ̴̮́ẖ̸͗ȩ̴͝r̶̢̃ǐ̵͍n̵̡͗g̶̗̈ ̸͍͠y̴͜͝ỏ̴͖ű̷̩,̸̞̒ ̶̦͋b̸̼̿ǎ̶̢ḅ̴͆y̷͖͝?̶̭̇ ” He asked, unable to keep his voice normal. The glitching being a sign of his agitation. He wanted to murder the man in front of him, strangle him with his bare hands, but he couldn’t. He would not dare cause that big of a scene.

“I already told him that I wasn't interested in him.” You sighed, simply annoyed by the stranger’s persistence.

That stranger turned quickly, and once he saw Vox behind him, attempted to scurry away from the situation. However, Vox swiftly appeared in front of him, grabbing the man by the collar.

“Y̵o̷u̴'̷r̶e̴ ̵p̷r̶e̶t̶t̸y̴ ̶f̶u̷c̶k̸i̶n̵g̵ ̶b̵o̷l̴d̸,̸ ̶a̸r̴e̴n̴'̶t̵ ̶y̷o̷u̸?̴ ̷T̴a̸l̴k̵i̶n̶g̵ ̸t̸o̵ ̸m̴y̵ ̴g̵i̸r̵l̴ ̷t̸h̵a̷t̶ ̶w̷a̴y̶.̷.̶.̸ ” Vox hissed, still crackling in pure rage. “I̶ ̷h̴e̸a̷r̴d̸ ̶a̷l̷l̵ ̴t̷h̴e̸ ̷s̵h̷i̸t̶ ̷y̴o̶u̸ ̷w̶e̴r̴e̴ ̴t̴e̵l̴l̴i̴n̶g̷ ̶h̷e̷r̸.̷ ̴Y̸o̵u̴ ̸t̶h̷i̴n̶k̵ ̸I̷ ̶c̵a̵n̸'̶t̴ ̶p̸l̶e̸a̸s̴e̶ ̷m̸y̸ ̸o̷w̴n̸ ̸w̶o̷m̴a̵n̷?̵ ” Vox added. His voice shaking as much as his hands. He looked like a rabid dog and it was… kind of hot to you.

“N-no, s-sir!” The man stuttered.

“It’s not what I heard you say, you u̸g̸l̸y̷ ̶f̵u̷c̷k̴i̵n̴g̵ ̷s̵l̷u̴g̴… I’ll give you two minutes to leave the vicinity before I b̴l̷o̸w̷ ̶y̵o̴u̶r̴ ̸f̸u̴c̶k̸i̶n̵g̶ ̴b̵r̶a̷i̴n̴s̸ ̴o̵u̸t̷ ̶w̵i̵t̵h̸ ̶a̷ ̸C̶r̶a̵m̵i̴n̶e̶.̴.̴.̸ ” He threatened. Oh, and he was very much capable of this. Shooting a sinner with an authentic Carmine weapon was something he’d proved he wasn’t above doing when it came to your safety or his jealousy, for that matter. And unlike regular gunshots, there was no coming back from a fatal shot from a Carmine weapon. If you were killed by it, you were fucked. Gone into oblivion.

“Y-yes sir!” The sinner stuttered. Vox let go of his collar and the puny man that had flirted with you a few minutes ago was now stumbling over himself trying to leave the club.

Vox shuddered, calming down and sitting next to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer towards him. “Fuck… I hate the fucking scum we live amongst. I’m not leaving you alone on a night out ever again, I’m… sorry about that bastard.”

“It ok Voxxie, it was kinda hot… what you did, you know?” You chuckled slightly.

“Yeah? You like it when I get all jealous over you?” He smirked, letting out a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah, I like it when you get all glitchy and crackly. It’s kinda cute...” You giggled.

“I should do it more often, then~.” He chuckled, planting a peck on your lips.

You kissed his screen and chuckled, "You should, it suits you a lot~" You cooed, placing a hand on his chest.

Vox let out another chuckle, "Well, good to know. Now I know how to win you over when you're being a brat."

"Hush, you! We're in public!" You protested, embarrassed that he'd say that out loud, but finding it kind of funny.

"Who said I meant it that way. Get your mind out of the gutter, baby~" He teased, holding your waist.

"I fucking hate you." You joked.

"Oh, you love me~" He retorted with a cocky laugh.

#yandere vox #yandere vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x reader headcanons #yandere vox is canon #vox x reader #vox #vox hazbin #jealous vox #istg vox is my life #vox is so silly i swear

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asksythe · 11 months

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The real-life Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng - A tale of two brothers

I’ve been asked this before when talking about topics such as Qiongqi beast and its symbolism in Wei Wuxian’s death, the various hints that Wei Wuxian might be long lost royal, the historical background behind the Yin tiger tally, and why the tiger symbol seemingly being bad juju for Wuxian.

It’s all connected, of course, through a historical basis. I have some free time today, so let’s get!

Meet Wei Wuji, also known as Lord Xinling, the second Prince of Wei Kingdom (circa 2nd century BCE), the first person in recorded history to handle a Tiger Tally, and very very likely to be the real-life basis for Wei Wuxian.

How very likely? Well, there’s no word of god, of course. But I’ll just let the facts speak for themselves, and you be the judge.

1. Let’s start with names:

Wei Wuji 魏無忌

Wei Wuxian 魏无羡

Wei 魏 = Wei 魏. An exact match. As a matter of fact, Wei Wuji’s Wei kingdom is the first kingdom to bear this Wei name in recorded history.

Wu 無 is the traditional form of Wu 无. In the Japanese, Taiwanese, and traditional Mandarin versions, Wei Wuxian is also written with this Wu 無.

The original meaning of Ji is ‘envy, hatred’ in ancient times (as per the Kangxi dictionary and the original text of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms). In modern times, the meaning of Ji has morphed to represent ‘fear, avoid’ more than ‘envy’ and ‘hatred.

The meaning of Xian is envy in both ancient and modern times.

So Wei Wuxian is effectively an alternate way to write Wei Wuji.

2. The life and death of Wei Wuji and the first Tiger Tally recorded in history:

a. Genius second son, a friend of many, the brightest 4th Young Master:

Wei Wuji was born the second son of King Wei Zhao and the second prince of the Wei Kingdom. He had an elder half-brother: Wei Anli, crown prince and, afterward, King of the Wei Kingdom.

Despite being the younger brother and not the heir to the throne, Wei Wuji eclipsed his elder brother in talent, courage, military and political acumen, and sheer popularity.

Wei Wuji was also unique among his period peers for being very open-minded when it came to castes. He lived during the warring state period, during which there existed an extremely strict caste system where the lower and slave castes didn’t even count as humans and could be executed for silly things like being in the presence of their higher caste masters and ‘tainting the air’ they breathed. Not only did Wei Wuji give no thought to this caste system, he would often go out of his way to listen to the lower castes and treat them with respect as if they were of the same caste.

In one legend (Sima Qian Historical Records, circa 135 BCE), Wei Wuji walked away from a banquet raised in his name to go sit and talk to an old, wise prison guard (Hou Ying). He would then invite this prison guard to his banquet with the highest of honor, even giving the guard his seat (noble seat) and driving the chariot in his place. When other noble banquet guests protested this lowly guard’s presence by vilifying the old prison guard for not knowing his place, Wei Wuji stood up for him and gave him the highest of toasts, thus silencing the guests.

In another legend, Wei Wuji hosted over 3000 guests in his princely fiefdom. He famously declared that so long as a person had ambitions and a will to do good in his heart, then Wei Wuji would receive him in his hall as a guest and friend regardless of what caste he was or from where he came.

For this, Wei Wuji was known as Lord Xinling and held the loyalty of many in his own brother’s kingdom.

He was one of the Four Gongzi of the Warring State Period (lit. Four Young Masters, Four Noblemen, Four Princes. During this period, Gong was a distinct noble class comparable to Duke. So this can also be understood as the Four Dukes). He was seen as the brightest among the Four.

b. The tale of the first Tiger Tally in recorded history:

Sima Qian Historical Records told the tale of the first Tiger Tally as such. It was a time of chaos where the strong trampled the weak, and big countries gobbled up small ones. Wei Kingdom was one of the seven strongest of the time. This meant that their position was precarious.

Around this time, Wei Wuji’s elder brother, Wei Anli, had ascended the throne and adopted a policy of avoidance. Despite the ferocious fighting, the political struggles, and the easily foreseeable threats, Wei Anli was of the thought that if he did nothing and just closed his door, then trouble wouldn’t come knocking at his door.

But this was not so. In 260 BC, the state of Qin (of Qin Shi Huang, yes) besieged the state of Zhao and captured the King of Zhao (who was related to the Wei through marriage). Zhao sent for Wei’s help. But King Wei Anli didn’t want to be Qin’s next target, and so refused to send aid.

This was where the Wei brother’s opinions diverged. Wei Wuji saw that Qin was growing unchecked in power, and if not stopped, then Wei would be next on the chopping block anyway. So not only was Wei politically and morally responsible, but from a long-term strategic standpoint, Wei must respond if they didn’t want Qin to grow too strong and eventually be invaded and absorbed into Qin itself.

The only problem: Wei Wuji had no right to make this decision. And regardless of his insistence and explanation to his elder brother, Wei Anli would not be moved. Meanwhile, the state of Zhao sent ever more desperate pleas for help (from the Wei’s sister who was Zhao Queen at the time no less).

Pressured from all sides and with no alternative, Wei Wuji made a decision that would go down as a first in history. He would steal the Tiger Tally from his King’s hand, commandeer the army, and ride to answer Zhao’s pleas for help himself.

This would eventually become the historical example of military brilliance that required the usurpation of the immediate superior. Wei Wuji’s own name would go down in history as brilliance that eclipsed his station.

I’ve written on the tiger tally before. So I won’t write more about this now.

To summarize things, Wei Wuji’s plan worked. Zhao was saved. But at the cost of a rift between brothers. After lifting the siege, Wei Wuji stayed in Zhao for ten years.

He would only go back to Wei Kingdom when Wei was besieged by Qin in purported retaliation, bringing with him the 3000 guests that stayed loyal to him and went to Zhao for help. Wei Wuji successfully lifted the siege of Wei and the two brothers reunited after a decade of not seeing each other. They cried and embraced one another. Wei Anli made Wei Wuji the Grand General of Wei, and he then took over the safeguarding of Wei against the onslaught of Qin.

c. The tale of two brothers. Or, as the Chinese say, the King has no brothers. The King has no equal. Fool is he who dares think himself the King’s brother and equal.

Despite the fact that the brothers reunited, this tale does not end well.

Wei Wuji was a brilliant general and a ferocious warrior. But more than that, his reputation far eclipsed his elder brother the King. Ever since they were young, Wei Anli had had to suffer being under the shadow of his little brother, despite his being the heir and then King.

Wei Wuji not only successfully repelled Qin, but he also started making a plan to counterattack and nyx Qin Empire before it could take shape. Because his reputation was such that countless warriors and scholars answered his call to arms. Five other kingdoms also answered his request for an alliance.

The King of Qin was deathly afraid of Wei Wuji. Violence did not work, so the Qin King attempted the other way: through schemes and manipulation. The Qin King sent enormous fortunes and gifts to Wei Anli under the guise of normalizing relations between the two kingdoms and potential peace. Along with his gifts, he would send people, spies of all ranks and castes, to infiltrate Wei Anli’s court and territory. These spies would continuously do things to increase the friction and gap between the two brothers.

Some of them would falsely congratulate Wei Wuji for having ascended to the throne.

Some more would treat Wei Wuji with more deference than Wei Anli.

Some would then whisper into Wei Anli’s ears: “Prince Wei was away from his own Kingdom for 10 years. And yet when he calls, thousands in Wei Kingdom answer him. Why is it him and not you, the King? Do your people only know Wei Wuji and not Wei Anli. Are you sure it’s still you who is the King? He should know his place!”

Wei Anli… fell for their tactics. So he demoted Wei Wuji and effectively isolated him from the court. He would then give this position to someone else. So, of course, the plan to counterattack Qin with the 5 ally kingdoms fell apart miserably.

Wei Wuji was heartbroken by his own brother’s action. He descended into alcoholism and purportedly died from depression and failing health. In other words, he died from the betrayal of someone who saw as a brother but that same brother saw him not as a brother but as a rival and a carrier of problems.

Wei Anli died in the same year as Wei Wuji, purportedly from illness.

18 years later, just as Wei Wuji predicted, Wei Kingdom was conquered and subsumed by Qin. Qin would then go on to become the first true Empire in Chinese History.

Wei Anli was not technically the last monarch of Wei. But it’s historically agreed that he’s the one who laid the foundation for the fall of Wei due to his suspicion of his own brother and removing the one person capable of turning the tide of Qin.

So, I will leave this here for you to come to your own conclusion and come back another day for analysis on the parallels between history and story and a few other somewhat ironic anecdotes that I didn’t include here (Like the fact that between the 2 Wei brothers, it’s the real-life Jiang Cheng, Wei Anli, that was the gay one. How gay are we talking about? So gay he’s the origin of Chinese gay porn)

#Ask Sythe #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #wei ying #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #historical analysis #wei wuji

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vitentia · 10 months

Text

MEDDLE ABOUT .lıllıl.

pairings ━━ street racer!ellie x fem!reader

warnings ━━ TOTALLY AND ENTIRELY inspired by the movie Culpa Mia bc I am obsessed, jealous!ellie, illegal street racing, questionably dangerous circumstances, fighting, use of a gun (not against anyone)

synopsis ━━ ellie williams, notoriously infamous street racer, wanted in many countries both by law enforcement and desire. desire for her car, her skills, her money, and especially what she could do with those hands beyond driving. luckily for you, her favorite grid girl was the only the only one she ever wanted.

playlist ━━ literally any chase atlantic song ever

Your friends excitedly pulled your arm, ooo-ing and awing at everything under the neon lights. A girl friend squealed into your shoulder as an attractive racer walked by and gave her a wink.

“Holy shit! You never told me you had such sex symbols walking your job like an all you can eat buffet.” You snorted at her and shook your head.

“All you can eat maybe but I actually have a job to do.”

“Oh, please, you mean to tell me nobody in here has tried to get with you? That you’ve never been tempted?”

You shrugged, “I never said that.”

Walking your friends over to the gathering crowd, you provided them front row seats to the open road arena and stepped away to lean your head into your favorite car.

“Williams.”

The short haired girl whistled lowly. “Aha, there’s my favorite girl. You gonna be shooting for me tonight?”

“Nah, Dina wanted to do it today.”

Ellie clicked her teeth. “Damn, I was hoping I’d see you in something sexy before I race this asshole.” She nodded her head in the direction of her opponent.

Cameron, upper middle class douchebag who thought he could win every race by being reckless and owning expensive cars. He winked at you from outside his car before sitting inside, no doubt trying to rile Ellie up.

You rolled your eyes and faced her again, “Ignore him. His fancy little cars are no match for this baby.”

“No match for my baby, you mean.” You made a confused face. “Hop in the passenger seat.”

“Woah hold on, you don’t let anyone in this car.” You responded, shock and surprise laced in your voice.

She smirked. “I’ve let you on top of it.”

Both anxious and excited, you bit your lip and looked at her blood red car. “Are you sure?”

“No time like the present, baby. Get in.”

You squealed and ran around the front of the car to get into the passenger seat, your friends shouting sexual jokes at you from afar. Once your bottom hit the plush leather seats you nearly moaned, flipping down the upward mirror, opening the dashboard, all of it was just so…exciting.

“You have been in a car before, right?” Ellie said sarcastically, watching your enjoyment.

“Yeah but never your car. It’s like a spaceship.” You gleamed, she smiled at you and shook her head, resting her arm out the window as Dina sauntered over between the two cars.

She read the basic rules and the promised dollar amount to the loser, roughly around 7k and spoke to each person in the car. When she came around you and Ellie, you leaned on the elbow rest and called out to her from the window.

“Your ass looks great in those jeans, D!” She turned around, hair whipping behind her and gave you a wink as Ellie scoffed.

“Why didn’t you tell me my ass looks good?” She asked, offended.

“It looks good, not as good as Dina’s though.” Your smirked.

Right then, she revved up the engine, hands sitting properly at the wheel and her plan already in motion. Dina stood between the two cars, raising the gun high in the air before finally breaking the tension and letting out a shot.

Before you could even blink, the car was already swiveling through the air. Your heart felt like it was in your throat as you grabbed onto the upper handle for support, but your mind was ecstatic over the adrenaline rush you got.

You didn’t even realize you were smiling and laughing until Ellie broke her concentration to admire you.

The moment fell short when Cameron’s sports car bumped roughly into Ellie’s from behind, sending you forward in your seat with your seatbelt forcing you back.

“What the fuck?” She cursed, bracing herself on the steering wheel before craning her eyes in your passenger side mirror to see.

Cameron pushed into the back of the car again, this time, his smirk visible for both of you to see.

Ellie tilted her head menacingly at him through the rear view mirror and revved up her engine, her knuckles turning white against the steering wheel as she prepared for a particularly sharp turn. You clasped the upper handle harder than before and prepared yourself for the increase in speed. Wind blew about the car dramatically and once the car finished its straight illegal turn, your butt planted on the seat and you finally allowed yourself to breath.

Ellie didn’t say a word nor look in your direction, her eyes pointedly eyeing the finish line with vigor. If you weren’t so attracted to her angry face, you’d be slightly worried.

Cameron expensive car rolled up on its side once Ellie made it past the finish line and it’s owner came out of it in anger. He slammed the door shut uncaringly and stomped over to you and Ellie like a child. You slipped next to Ellie but she lightly pushed you behind her and stood to her full height against the prissy boy.

“You fucking bitch!” He cursed

“Calling me names doesn’t help you, upper side. My money is owed.” She responded calmly, scarier than if she yelled back.

Jesse ran up in the middle and inserted himself between them. “Let it go, man. You lost fair and square.”

Cameron scoffed, unbelieving. “I ain’t giving you nothing. You or your little prostitute, Williams.”

Ellie swore her vision turned red as she revved up her arm for a mean right hook before abruptly being interrupted by Jesse holding her back.

“Not now, Els.” He whispered to her.

Cameron chuckled at her reaction and looked you up and down, sending a shiver up your spine. “Maybe I will pay for you, how much you charge a night-“

As soon as the boy started talking, Jesse mumbled something under his breath and promptly let go of the seething girl in his arms, raising them up to his sides and pressing his lips into a thin line. Without anymore resistance, Ellie swung her fist across Cameron’s jaw and a jaw dropping crack was heard from feet away. You gasped and slapped your hand over your mouth as she pushed him to the ground and pressed her black and white converse into his freshly cracked jaw.

“You’ll hear from my lawyers, you bitch.” He coughed out, barely eligible.

Ellie smirked and leaned down, hand against her knee. “I’ll be glad to tell them all you’ve been up to, Cameron Trevor Mallard Jr.” She roughly pulled her foot away and nodded towards Jesse. “Collect my money and bring it to me by tomorrow.”

No words were exchanged as she took your hand in hers and directed you to the passenger seat, opening the door and buckling you up herself before moving to her side and driving away from everyone. You looked back through the window, jaw agape.

“I’ll tell Jesse to make sure your friends get home safe, okay? I just- I just didn’t want to be alone.” She said, breaths shaking alongside her hands.

“Hey, come on, pull over. You can’t drive like this.” You said gently, putting your hand on her shoulder.

Listening to your words, Ellie pulled over to the side of a gravel road and took a deep breath. Your hand slipped under hers and examined the cuts on her knuckles, kissing them softly.

“You shouldn’t have-“

“No, I should have.” She finally looked at you. “Besides, I’ve been wanted to do put that kid in place for ages. You just gave me good reason.”

You smiled and averted your eyes from her intense gaze, but she leaned forward in her seat and brushed her nose against yours, forcing you to look at her.

“Thank you.” You whispered

She smirked, “Ah, you’re such a sap.” Ellie pressed her lips against yours, undecided on whether she wanted to swallow you whole or take it slow. With the moonlight bouncing off her tinted windows and the darkness of the night shielding you both from any prying eyes, she finally decided to do both.

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lgbtq

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adoregojo · 3 months

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1967 ➡︎ isagi.y x reader

IM ALIVE!! YAHOOOOO!! btw i have an exam in a few hours, and here where my sudden passion for writing comes back. anyone enjoy this isagi x reader fic here. btw readers gender is unmentioned.

something was always missing from isagi yoichi's life.

the symbolizes dull blue man remains in his place, examining the disgustingly rich guests passing him with the priceless cologne reeking to his lungs and everywhere making it impossible to ignore and trying to not block his nose holes was a challenge itself.

it was in the fact that he didn't want to be here, the urge to isolate himself eventually loses against his duty. being a man, a soldier who was protecting nothing but the greediest class poor excuse of a human beings.

Isagi would've like to say he was one of hundreds who excepted this job, but he wasn't unfortunately. more like he was pushed into it so his so called comrades could take a free ride out of their job.

he let out a breath, it was just to guard the gate until the show ends, right? he'll just go with the flow for now. like he always does.

half of the shows were ridiculous if you ask him, what was so funny about a man beaming his loathing into dark jokes, isagi could never get the rich humor, not like he ever wanted to. he was sure half of these laughs were focused on and he couldn't find it in himself to even spare a smile.

the other display was a musical performance, a tribute by a group of people spreading imitation melody his ears were abhorrent by. this song was so dusty he couldn't believe that some actually clapped for that. affluent were easy to impress, he guessed.

and for the end and final play was about to begin, and finally he'll be done with this crap and leave this stump of a place. go to the bar and have a drink or two will do that,,

there he could see a somone who was he could guess in is age on the stag peeking nervously behind the curtain, clung to it for your dear life. he couldn't get a good picture out of you nor your face before the show started,,

you took a deep breath in and out, something you do every time to keep yourself at bare minimum of sanity. peeping through wouldn't hurt, but it hits so hard how countless of people were there caused you sudden stomach aches.

the worst part that all of them came out obviously disinterested! not even paring down a glance to the stag you were gonna stand up at in the next six minutes. you were in you twenties and feeling this anxious should've been in the past, well guess old habits die hard.

you told yourself that your were here to give off a show that non of these cheap moneybags that'll never escape one's mind.

even if you felt your soul leaving your body as you step out to everyone's eyes judging from your body to your face and appearance whole, fighting the urge to melt out of humiliation was strong yet you were far capable.

it was now or never.

a dose of confidence washed over you as the music played, it was meant to be a soothing melody that made the audience feel the pure emotion out of every movement you made.

this was your life, to dance. not for others, but for yourself. humans were nothing but just the witnesses to your purpose of existence. this is where you felt alive, closing your eyes to the endless void that grasped you tightly than any other creature could.

guiding the tips of your feet in it meant placement of the dance, where the gravity is losing against you and floating was viable. where no one could tell you what to do with the occult place you rot into.

let them see since that'll be the only thing they can do.

this wasn't like anything isagi saw.

it was not about the music, the audience, it was about the person who managed to take his heart and soul to their performances. every movement made his heart swirling in endless fondness.

he couldn't take his overset eyes off, he couldn't find it in his heart to even blink 'cause if he did so he'll miss it and it'll end before he knows. the depths of his obscure soul felt pure something you only feel when you watch people on the big screen yet it lifted your heart to it.

isagi's mind doesn't process the fact that the melody was long gone and echoing sounds of clapping and cheering were unheard, this is where the world, the universe itself were at a halt.

you raised up from your bowed state. something called, it was begging you to turn around and spare it a glance. and you did unintentionally, there you were meet by the most beautiful set of an eyes adoring you ceaselessly.

you were sweaty and definitely had a few flying out of place locks, but that man tenderly gaze embracing you says otherwise. out of all those people, out of them all he outshined them.

yet the locked eye contact doesn't last, it had to end before you had any chance to talk to him. to even approach him before being dragged out.

well, isagi did end up at the bar he wanted to be in. and it didn't feel this empty before. caressing the glass of hallway wine with his thumb, until he sees his sad reflection on then persuades to hide his face in his arm's elbow. he looked like an old man grieving over his youth. and most of all he felt hopeless.

isagi was mostly selfless, putting others needs over his. but this one time he felt like this is what he needed the most, what his heart yearns for and you were taken away from him in a brief second.

maybe if he wasn't so damn busy memorized he would've managed to move his legs instead of rotting in his place while watching you go.

and what the worst of this all was the so little chance of meeting you again was making him go insane! and above all you were gifted and so, so dazzling and isagi was just.. him. a guy that was way beyond where you stood, just watching you should be a blessing itself.

but that wasn't it, this feeling of deep despair all he wanted was to run back to the stage and look for you. this weirdly strange passionate about someone he just saw was foreign.

all this thinking was making him a madman, ruffling his hair in frustration.

"need a company? looking a bit lonely."

a bit taken aback, isagi's shifted towards the voice. oh, oh. oh fuck, it was you.

he could faint right here and now.

you could faint right here and now.

shit- you couldn't get a grip on approaching the guy, the same guy that you kept thinking about all day living in your head rent free. you were real smooth with your words, weren't?

to be surprise, the man was quite popular. being one of the famous men in his squad, and basically a man of a noble while you were just you, a dancer who travels around the world to achieve your dream.

you figured his name was isagi, isagi yoichi. you burned that name over your head. trying not to call him by his name, to try it out sliding down your mouth. but he would definitely see you as a creep, especially for looking around asking about him.

meeting him again had to be a miracle itself, at first you didn't even want to take a step towards his path. but seeing his drink his sadness away, and deep down you felt if you don't take a step he'll float away forever.

and now he was was sitting there while staring at you aimlessly, did you say something? a bit seconds before he finally spoke. "oh- yeah, i mean sure if y'know, you wanted to. no pressure." isagi stuttered.

you sent him a pleasant smile before taking a seat beside him, as you asked for a cocktail. the heavy feelings of the isagi's eyes pouring on you like he could believe you were actually there. you were glad that the man wasn't drunk yet.

"drinking a lot tonight, huh?" you said, dragging him back out of whatever dreamy place he was in. just then he quickly fixed his posture, it was cute, you thought. he looked like a dork as he cleared his throat.

"i think this is my last one." isagi says, pushing away the glass to get potty over you instead. "um, your performance. it was.. amazing."

"glad you like it, you also did a good job in guarding me." you laughed a bit, it a nervous one since this man words held so much more of a meaning in them you just couldn't handle such words as a little of red creeped into your cheeks.

"psh, it was nothing worth mentioning. i was just standing there while you were, just so breathtaking."

"really?"

"really, really. I couldn't stop staring." isagi cooed, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. his eyes remained away from you as he said these words, he really hoped they sounded genuine as he felt and not come out as a creep. to his surprise he heard you chuckling, and if it wasn't the loveliest thing his ears are hearing.

"you're just so charming aren't you, isagi?" you didn't even realise the name slipping out, it felt so natural like you were the innate one to chime it.

isagi eyes widen, your rhythmical voice flow which captivate his emphasis of a soul over you. this spark swirling around his entrails making his breaths at halt. when did he become such a nervous wreck? yesterday it was isagi history of spurning the slightest hints of getting in a relationship, due for him finding it difficult to let his feelings flow freely. and the missing flicker was now found by someone who spoke his name once, and he couldn't find his heart to stop pounding so rapidly.

"you know my name?" he somehow managed to let out despite the regarding fact the air ran out from his lungs, yet it came out breathlessly.

you rolled your eyes playfully, "you're kind of popular around here so it wasn't so difficult to find out." said you, twirling the straw of your decayed cocktail, you glance back to see the man huffing a small laugh. he utterly and completely handsome with that carefree smile that you felt like a teenager girl with her silly crush.

"and it's, yn. if you were interested." you added.

if he was interested? like hell he is, the man was down on his knees if that meant getting to know you. fuck, he was so interested that he could drain his soul for you to tell him everything you please. but truthfully, putting a name to such a pretty face felt like a piece of puzzle was getting connected to it perfect place.

"interested? i am honoured i must say, miss yn." isagi had no idea he had this kind of sappy side within him, especially when he made you giggle coyly, and all he can feel is his heart racing. what was he? a teenage boy going all giddy with his crush? he blamed you for making him feel this young again, and damn if it didn't feel good to feel this bloom once again.

and before you even realise it, it was time to end this bright moment. peeking at the clock, you had another show tomorrow and it hits you like a rock. isagi had his own magic to make time go by the blue. standing up slowly you faced the face of a confused man, "i must take my leave. i have a show tomorrow night, and it was lovely talking to you isagi yoichi."

part of you felt dumb, the man was probably just lonely and he'll soon forget about by the day. as much as loving you felt next to him, you were no mind reader to see how he truly felt. you wished you weren't so bad with these things, especially when the wave was telling you that the man ahead of you was a man of a name. how could all your confidence wash away with a small tear of thought.

you could feel the disappointment taking over the soldier's face, as if his face was begging you to stay longer even for a brief second. you were gonna give in, but honestly, would he have approached you if the roles were reversed?

you didn't even let the man finish his sentence before walking fast out of the bar, suddenly the air was suffocating and you took a deep breath. and here it was again, the black void sky hinted by the stars with the moon outshining it. a wave of air hits you making you shrivel, perhaps it was the cold, perhaps it was the shallow you felt.

you wished would turn around and see him, running after you. but what did you expect from this, were your standards truly that high? you were a traveler, you shouldn't connect your heart with anyone's. soon you'll be leaving and be left heartbroken just like every other person did.

what now? you were just standing in the middle of a bar, cold and shivering. that was stupid, you should just go home and get drunk to sleep.

"wait! lady yn!"

you falter at the voice of isagi, did he actually came? were you imagining this? turning around, and in fact you weren't imagining a thing. it was actually isagi huffing and puffing for air, he actually ran all the way here, he ran after you. with his hands on his knees. a last breath before he met your eyes, and all you could think was how his eyes could take over the sky itself.

for a while he just stood there awkwardly, like he doesn't even know why he ran here. before he took off his black coat, taking a hesitation steps towards you. gently warping it around your body, the man handled you so steadily like a you were made of glass he could break by any wrong move.

you grip on the warm fabric, it was slightly bigger than you and so, so balmy. it felt like a hug. you glance back at the man who was staring instantly at you, you felt hot under his strange gaze, like he was eating you whole. you couldn't help but shrinking yourself. quickly he jolted back to his usual self, coughing there and there trying to hide his embarrassment.

"it's cold outside, take this to keep you warm." said isagi, avoiding your face with all costs. you nodded your head. trying to calm your raging heart.

you watch as isagi take a final breath, like he finally decided to what to say next. "um, if you like. i could be your guardian at your next show. whatever it is, I'll be there by your side." he spoke firmly, this time he stood bravely. like a boy confessing his feelings.

you don't know why but you found yourself laughing, laughing so hard you had to cover your mouth. this is what you wished for, the one you waited to follow you whatever you go is standing right in there. a one that'll held on to you for the everlasting. your wish to perform with your most loved one by your side was no longer a beyond reach dream but a meant destiny.

"you have to take me out to dinner first, mister isagi yoichi."

you see as a beam draw it way to isagi's face, you spoke the words he couldn't. he took your hand in his gloved once, it was a perception fit, the missing piece of puzzle, pressing his lips lovingly against your cold knuckles, "only if you wouldn't run away this time, miss yn ln." he chuckled.

and here where your life was completed

have a nice day everyone! wish me luck for my exam ;)

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi x reader #isagi x you #isagi x y/n #isagi yoichi x you

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Text

I Come With Knives Pt2

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Part 1

I am posting this at almost 1am AND I have to get up early tomorrow to do work for class before the actual class haha I plan my time accordingly

I was going to make this chapter longer. I had an idea and I started to write it, but it just wasn't coming out like I wanted it to (bc I'm writing at 12am duh) so I'm gonna put that in another chapter

Warnings: mentions of torture, trauma, hints of paranoia, hints of self-deprecation

Word Count: 1,390

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

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After a grueling battle yesterday, you chose to give everyone a day off. It gave them time to rest aching muscles, repair and sharpen weapons, relax. It gave you a chance to bathe.

You didn't neglect your hygiene, but most of the time, once camp was set up, the sun would be dipping below the horizon. On those days, you'd run into the water, scrub the gunk out of your hair and get out, back to the safety of company before the first stars faded in. Now that you had the chance, you weren't going to squander it.

Once you were certain you were alone - an uncomfortable thought soothed only by the sun filtering in through the canopy above - you stripped down and waded into the water. It was cool, but not unpleasantly so. You wasted no time scraping the dirt and blood off your skin.

Once you cleaned your body within an inch of its life, you ducked your head under the water and scrubbed at your hair and scalp. It was disgusting - you could only imagine the smell your companions had put up with this last week. You were just so happy you were clean. Your hair was smooth as water soaked it through, no knots or clumps of blood to be found. As you squeezed out the excess water, you caught your reflection between the ripples. In moments where it stilled enough, you could see the scar on your neck. It was still deep and prominent, but it was beginning to heal. It'd never healed before.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You nearly shrieked when you turned, sinking into the water up to your neck for protection. Astarion chuckled at your reaction.

"Would it kill you to stop sneaking up on me?"

"I was practically stomping like an ogre, dear, it's hardly my fault you weren't paying attention." You shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. It was your fault you let your guard down. In the day, you were safe from (most) vampires, but there were any number of things ready to attack at any moment. "Mind if I join you?"

You shake your head, but you're already wading to shore to grab your clothes. "No, go ahead. I'm done."

"Leaving already?" You nod, not making eye contact. "I won't look, darling, if that's what's got you so flustered."

You pause mid reach for your shirt as he removes his, placing it haphazardly on a rock by the water's edge. His pants came next and you looked away until you heard the water sloshing around him.

"Though, I don't mind if you look," he teased, sparing one last glance over his shoulder before he got to work cleaning himself.

Gods, if he could hear the way your heart raced... You peek over, just a glance, before you look back at your clothes. But then you're looking again.

An intricate scar of circles, lines, and curved symbols marred his back. You feel your throat close just looking at it. You'd been forced to watch spawn and slaves alike punished by the cracking of a whip. Forced to keep your eyes forward by a hand on your jaw as the leather snapped and tore into their skin. This was worse. This was deliberate.

"Did..." You swallow, forcing your voice not to crack with the sorrow you felt for him. "Did your master do this?"

He hummed, continuing to wash his arms as though you'd asked him about the weather. The only hint it bothered him at all was the way his muscles tensed and the disdain in his voice. "Cazador," he spat. "He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas." His movements slowed to a stop. "He composed and carved that one over the course of a night. He made... a lot of revisions as he went."

You couldn't stop staring. Your mind kept replaying the torture you witnessed, but it replaced their cries with Astarion's voice. You hated to be so lucky. To be so fortunate that your master wanted you to look absolutely perfect and unmarked. You never received physical punishment. You were too precious.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, shakily. "If I could, I'd..." What? Remove the markings forever? Take away his pain and suffering? Go back and change everything so he never had to be a puppet? You couldn't do anything. You can't help. You can't remove that pain. All you can do is witness the aftermath.

He sighed and ducked his head so he could wash his hair. Drops of water slid down his back, only drawing your eyes in further. “It won’t matter when we get to Baldur’s Gate. I’m going to kill that bastard for everything he did to me.”

You know you should leave. Put on your clothes and slink away. But… being around Astarion isn’t entirely unpleasant. You’re still a little scared of him - of what he could do, but you trust him enough to believe he wouldn’t do those things. He probably understood your plight better than anyone else.

So, you slide down into the water until you’re resting on your knees in the silt. It doesn’t quite cover your neck unless you duck deeper in. You want to hide the scar, the damn mark showing everyone else who - or rather, what you belonged to. But it felt wrong to try hiding it when Astarion was fully showing you his.

“I never asked who your master was.” He turns his head slightly, eyes just barely catching sight of you. He did promise he wouldn’t look, after all. “Where she…” He waved a hand noncommittally and scowled. “Rules.”

Her eyes flash in your mind, wicked and burning. You almost flinch just thinking about them. When you speak her name, your voice trembles. “Kir Parthene. I… don’t remember where she lives. It’s been years since I’ve even been outside - I must have forgotten.”

He slowly turns, giving you time to tell him to turn back again, but you don’t. You watch him through a fog of memories. “How long were you enslaved?”

It’s harder to answer than you thought it would be. Time begins to blur when you can’t tell if it’s night or day, when everything is fuzzy and incoherent because you never had enough blood to think straight. Sometimes she’d feed and then leave you for days. Others, she never wanted to stop feeding - drinking from you morning and night before you ever got a chance to recover. You were a slave to her hunger - time never mattered.

“I was… 16 when I was taken.” You wrap your arms around yourself. Safe. “I don’t even remember home. My parents… I’m all alone.”

He’d never heard your voice so small before. You weren’t the most demanding leader, but you could still bark commands when things were getting rough. You even held yourself well in conversation, shutting down lopsided deals or uncomfortable topics with all the authority of a royal guard. It was easier, seeing you like this, to imagine your life in servitude. Meek and quiet.

“That’s not entirely true.” He kneeled in the silt a few feet from you, smirking. “You have us for as long as this adventure lasts, as long as we don’t transform into tentacled Mind Flayers.”

“And then after that?” He shifts uncomfortably at the question. “Everyone will go their separate ways, and when you do I’m a sitting duck. I’ll be captured again. Used again.”

You trail off, but the weight of your words sit heavy. You’ll never be free. You could help everyone else with their quests, help them free themselves from what ties them down, help them get stronger - but the same couldn’t be done for you. Without knowing where your master lives, there’s no way to seek her out and kill her, too.

The water is too cold now. The cool summer breeze only freezes you more. Astarion watches as you get up and slink back over to your clothes. He looks away before he can see anything you wouldn’t want him to. In no time at all, your clothes are back on and you’ve pulled on your boots. But before you walk away, you turn to him. Your eyes are so sad.

“Thank you. For… showing me.” He says nothing. So you head back to camp. Alone.

---

Tag List:

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primaviva · 8 months

Text

PAIRING: (primary) gwen stacy x fem!reader, (secondary / onsided romance) harry osborn x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: gwen has liked you for a long time, harry knew this. to gwen's surprise, harry actually liked her for much longer, something she only learned when he confessed and asked her to prom. gwen's rejection hit harry hard. you can imagine gwen's shock when, just as she was about to tell you how she felt and ask to be your date, you revealed that you already had a date. harry osborn.

WARNINGS/NOTES: misunderstandings trope like heavy, a lot of cursing, manipulation on harry’s part, angstyyy, suggestive toward the end, jealous n angry gwen vs sassy man harry, white boys doin too much and not proof read

as summer's hot embrace swept across queens, whispers of anticipation filled the air in midtown high.

the arrival of prom.

the streets adorned themselves with vibrant hues of gold and scarlet, echoing the spirit of the season that gripped the hearts of every new yorker. decorative banners danced in the breeze on campus, proudly displaying the school's emblem as a symbol of community pride. the heat and constant air conditioning mingled with the distant sound of a marching band practicing their lively tunes, weaving a tapestry of nostalgia and excitement for all the locals and alumni.

prom, a cherished tradition to no one but the beckoned who peaked in high school. let’s be real here, what teen beside the tryhard kids trying to form the perfect resume for college genuinely cared for homecoming? nah, not one. the only excitement that came from it was being able to get free food, dress cute, some photo ops with your partner, and just hanging out with your friends. you could technically count the performances by the school bands and dance teams but to be honest all the talent was overshadowed by the patriotic midtown chants praising the school for its community and kindness even though you could’ve swore you saw flash thompson trying to beat on some freshman in the hall the other day.

it’s midtown high… mid is in the name. to be quite honest, you weren’t expecting much. you didn’t even have a date in mind, you just knew you’d end up going with your small friend group consisting of your best friend gwen, peter, and harry.

you were brought back to reality when your teacher pulled an ‘i’ll wait’ on some girl in the front who was just as confused as the rest of the class and was simply asking someone else for help.

as the minutes ticked by in the seemingly endless ap english class, the only escape you found was talking gwen during class to keep you sane.

you leaned towards gwen, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "i feel like i’m trapped in a literary prison. is it just me, or does every sentence, as soon as she opens her mouth, sounds like some philosophy subreddit bullshit?"

gwen stifled a giggle, her eyes sparkling with shared amusement. "oh, trust me, it's not just you. i think i've somehow deciphered the hidden meaning behind every comma in this book. it's like we're on a quest for the nonexistent holy grail of english assignments."

you both burst into a fit of laughter, struggling to contain your amusement while keeping a watchful eye on the teacher. the irony of the situation wasn't lost on you— the passionate exploration of language and literature reduced to a burdensome chore.

however, you couldn’t help but feel a pair of jealous eyes on you. the prickling sensation at your neck coming from the back of the class made you turn your head slightly, and you caught a glimpse of harry's eyes fixed on gwen, his expression tinged with jealousy. his lips pressed together in a tight line as he bit down on them, lost in his thoughts to notice that you caught him looking. he seemed almost irritated at you by the way he stared and to your understanding, for no reason. it’s not like you did any sneak shit behind his back or got on his nerves .

caught in the awkwardness of the moment, harry mustered a teasing smile and gave a nod, as if attempting to play off being caught. the nod was like a silent statement from him to you, that he felt the same way you did in the class. bored as hell.

but beneath the facade, the tension simmered, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was brewing beneath the surface. questions swirled in your mind, but for now, you chose to let it go and return your focus to gwen.

"this class single handedly ruined how i’ll read for the rest of my life, and you know how much i love to read edgar allen poe," you whispered, barely able to contain your sarcasm.

gwen leaned closer, her voice barely audible. "i swear, if i have to dissect one more sonnet, my brain cells will start killing themselves."

the bell's sudden ring startled both of you, cutting short your whispered complaints and signaling the end of yet another mundane class. you exchanged a knowing look, relief and mischief dancing in both your eyes.

"finally, damn!" you exclaimed under your breath. "let's get out of here before we start speaking in iambic pentameter."

gwen nodded, her lips curled into a smile. "i can't wait another second."

together, you gathered your belongings, trying to suppress the lingering laughter that threatened to bubble. as you made your way towards the door, the teacher's eyes scanned the room, momentarily pausing on your mischievous glances, but quickly moving on.

you were about to respond to her joke when harry osborn approached you two with a slightly hesitant yet determined stride. his sudden interruption caught both of you off guard.

"hey, gwen," harry began, his voice shaky. "can we talk for a minute?"

your curiosity piqued, but you gave gwen an understanding look and assured gwen that you would wait for her at the lockers, giving her a reassuring smile. with a nod, she followed harry to a quieter corner of the hallway, leaving you to be nosy and wonder what the conversation could be about. time seemed to stretch as you leaned against the lockers, the echoes of passing students fading into the background.

minutes turned into an eternity before gwen finally emerged from the conversation, as she walked toward you, you could sense the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. without a word, she shook her head, her eyes filled with unspoken thoughts.

"what did harry want? some chemistry homework answers that been due since last week?" you asked playfully, trying not to make it seem like you were praying for information.

it’s not like you were jealous of harry or envious of him for talking to gwen, you knew where you two stood. but just the way he looked at you? just rubbed you the wrong way. and you couldn't lie and say the curiosity wasn’t killing you as to why he had to pull gwen away from the public to just ‘talk to her.’

gwen's eyes met yours, looking unusually reserved. she hesitated for a moment before responding, her voice barely above a whisper. "it’s nothing, really. he just asked me a stupid question. don’t worry about it."

you left it at that, not wanting to force her into talking about something that was clearly private. you respected her desire to just move on. still, a teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you couldn't resist a teasing remark.

"did he ask you to be his secret prom date?" you quipped, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

gwen's face turned pale for a moment before her cheeks flushed slightly as she shook her head, a subtle smile gracing her lips. "no, you couldn’t be farther from the truth. i um… i actually have someone in mind."

you felt your cheeks heat up at her comment, but also a gut wrenching feeling in your stomach. could she be talking about you? no, but then again all the moments where your legs brushed together while you sat, the lingering gazes and stolen looks, her hands on your waist when she guided you through a big crowd, just all the times where the lines between best friend and more became blurred.

however, gwen remained silent, her intentions veiled for now.

you two had similar schedules, so it was everyday you two walked to your classes together. as the two of you made your way to study hall, gwen broke the silence, "wanna share headphones while we work?"

her hand brushed against yours, your breath hitching as you became hyper aware of how close gwen was. you could feel her continue to stare into your eyes as she intertwined her hand with yours. a smile bloomed across your face as you nodded in agreement, unaware of someone else glaring at you from a distance. again.

weeks passed since then. before, prom was less than a month away. now? just days.

you still didn’t have a date. part of you wanted to just go along, not having any interest and anyone besides gwen. but another part of you was still holding onto hope, living in the fantasy world of the imaginary scenarios that she’ll ask you out.

there were doubts in your mind if gwen liked you, and even if you liked her. she’s your friend, best friend even. but your friendship with her is so different from the way you both treat your other friends. you don’t let your other friends call you names, sit on their lap while their hands wrap around your waist, stay up on friday nights and fall asleep on the phone, and so much more. it was more than just the physical attraction you had to gwen, it was the chemistry between you two. you admit, gwen is more than fine. to her tall demeanor and athletic body, and not to mention the hair and piercings. but the way she understood you more than anyone else was the biggest turn on of them all. she can read you like the back of her hand. she knows when you’re sad, when something’s bothering you, when you’re overwhelmed and just want someone to run away with even if it’s temporary.

all year it seemed that you both had been running circles around each other. there was just something different about the way she stared straight into your eyes as you talked about something. or the times where you swear you saw her biting down on her lip as she sneakily checked you out before you could catch her and she’d tell you how pretty you are. the times you would ask her to repeat stuff on the phone because you just loved hearing her voice just to fall asleep to it. the time where she noticed you looked at her while she cleaned her drumsticks and she told you it’s rude to stare. the times where she had no problem sneaking into your home from through your window to comfort you after a fight with your parents.

she felt like your other half and that’s what confused you. everyone talked about their best friend like that, but you and gwen didn’t seem like friends. and you can’t tell anymore if that’s good or bad.

it was clear you were attracted to gwen in more ways than one, but you couldn’t help but be in denial because of your fear that if you did pursue something romantic with her you could possibly ruin your friendship forever, and you couldn’t imagine your life without her.

gwen couldn’t imagine her life without you either, harry knew that first hand. which is why he’s on his way to your place right now.

harry osborn mustered up the courage to confess his feelings to gwen, his heart pounding with anticipation. he found her in the hallway, took a deep breath, and poured out his emotions, confessing his affection and asking her to be his date for the upcoming prom.

"hey, gwen," harry began, his voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination. "i've been meaning to tell you something... i really like you. you're amazing, talented, and so fearless. i’ve admired you for a while. so, i was wondering if you'd go to prom with me?"

gwen listened attentively, a kind smile on her face that slowly dropped as she kept talking. but before harry could catch his breath, she gently interrupted him.

"harry, look, i appreciate you telling me this and you're such an amazing friend," gwen replied, her soft and cautious. "but, i can’t go with you. i’m sorry it’s just… i actually had something on my mind too for a while. i've been wanting to tell (y/n) how i feel about her for a while now and so i thought prom would be the best excuse. i've just been nervous about it because i don’t want ti ruin anything. you understand, right?"

harry's face fell slightly, his disappointment flickering across his features. he tried his best to hide the bitterness he felt, realizing that gwen's heart was set on someone else.

"oh... i see," harry responded, trying to sound nonchalant. "don’t worry, gwen. i get it. i never caught on that you liked our (y/n), that’s my bad. i'm sure you’ll both have an amazing time at the dance when you ask her."

gwen's expression softened, "thank you, harry. i hope this doesn’t make anything too weird or weirder than it needs to be. friends?"

harry forced a smile, masking his envy as best as he could. "of course, gwen. friends always."

but as gwen turned to leave, harry's mind started to spin. thoughts of revenge began to cloud his judgment.

how could gwen stacy reject him? it was all he could think of. ‘she’s just a cop's daughter’ he thought, balling his hands into a fist.

“hey, could you speed it up?” he pressed the driver, quickly apologizing. “sorry i just… the waiting is killin’ me.”

maybe it was the bitterness fueling his need to boost his own ego, but he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the rejection. all his life, harry was given what he wanted without a second thought from his father or the people around him. it seemed that for the first time he couldn’t have what he wanted and didn't know how to act.

that’s what led him here, to the front of your place. harry pushed open the car door, his oxford shoes hitting the pavement.

“wait for us, will you?” he asked the driver but the tone of his voice made it clear that it was an order.

harry : hey sweets

harry : go look outside your window for me sent at 4:53

you were doing your homework when suddenly you felt a vibration against your desk. you turned your head to the side and noticed your phone lighting up. with a sigh wanting to take a break from working, you picked it up and your eyes went wide as you saw who it was who texted you. part of you hoped it was gwen, but no, it was harry.

the message on your lock screen made you cringe as soon as you saw that he had called you ‘sweets.’

“the hell is this boy on now,” you muttered, swiping up to see the full text in messages.

you : tf you mean look out my window… did you take your daddy’s medicine by any chance ?? sent at 4:55

before you even gave him the chance to reply, you walked up to your window and pushed the curtain to the side. looking down, you were met with the sight of harry typing on his phone before looking up at you with a charming smile.

harry : you wanna come down rapunzel?

you let out a scoff, the sides of your mouth twitching into a smile as you made your way downstairs. you unlocked the door, opening it to be met with harry walking up to you and revealing a beautiful bouquet of assorted flowers to you. it looked expensive and it glowed in the sun.

“don’t tell me those are for me,” you spoke in a whisper, voice caught in your throat from how unexpected this all was.

he smiled, putting the bouquet in my hand as the floral aroma filled my senses. “then i won’t, just take them princess.”

harry knew you were getting weirder out by his behavior just by the way your face had this stank look to it. not like you were disgusted by him or anything, but by how confusing this was.

“what?” he asked with a smirk.

“you’re just acting a lil’ strange is all,” you replied slowly, squeezing the bouquet to your chest and sniffing the assortment. “they smell beautiful harry, thank you. but no offense, why are you outside my home dressed like james dean?”

he did a low chuckle as he looked into your eyes. sure, harry was cute though he wasn’t necessarily your type. and while it is really attractive to have someone dress nice for you, call you sweet things, and even come to your home with flowers, it was just weird. it was just weird. why him?

"just walk with me, please?" harry asked, extending his hand towards you.

“and sight see all the power plants?” you mocked, but seeing the pleasing look on his face made you fold. you hesitated, but ultimately took him up on it.

as you took his hand, you felt his grip tighten, pulling you uncomfortably close. "i'm sure there's a beautiful waterfront or some other scenic spot for us to explore," he said, his voice filled with anticipation.

you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and curiosity flickering in your eyes. despite your reservations, you found yourself drawn to him and his intentions.

“you look beautiful today,” he added, still looking forward as the glow of the sky highlighted his face.

you let out a laugh, causing him to glare at you from the corner of his eye.

“oh harry, you’re so charming, thank you,” you teased, voice monotone to poke fun at his advances.

he let out a chuckle as you both approached the waterfront. golden hour was approaching, and the sky was painted a deep orange with yellow highlights and a beauty exuding from it. the clouds were faint and moved slowly to the side, like careful paint strokes to a canvas.

as you released your hand from harry's, you walked toward the ledge, taking in the awe-inspiring scenery. it felt like a moment of pure magic, as if the world had paused to allow you to appreciate the simple pleasures surrounding you. the gentle caress of the warm breeze, the distant echoes of laughter, and the soothing sound of water rippling in the wind created a serene ambiance.

harry initiated the conversation, breaking the silence. "you've never been here before?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

you met his gaze with a sly smile, “nah, i never have time to do stuff like this. im always busy with my own responsibilities so it doesn’t really cross my mind to do a tinder style long walks down the cigarette infested new york streets and visit all the landscapes.”

harry approached you, leaning against the ledge with a smile playing on his lips. he let out a genuine chuckle, appreciating your sense of humor.

"there's the (y/n) i know," he remarked, his tone filled with affection. "always quick with the sarcasm. it's one of the many things that make you so likable. you have this unique and mysterious charm about you.”

you studied him for a moment, a dry laugh escaping your lips. "secret charm?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow. "i've never really made an effort to talk to anyone, so l'd be surprised if i had any secret admirers.”

“well, allow me to introduce you to one of them,” he said as he took your hand in his and gave it a chest kiss.

harry's expression turned softer, and he took your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss on your palm. his eyes held a glimmer of and a hint of seduction.

"i know we haven't always been the closest, but lately, you've been on my mind. a lot," he confessed, bringing your hand to rest against his chest. "i've admired you from afar, and i've been nervous to be around you. you're not just gorgeous, but smart, witty, and so much more. i can't imagine going to prom with anyone else but you. so, would you honor me by being my date?"

your heart skipped a beat with each word he spoke. shock washed over you, and your face revealed a mix of emotions. while you value your friendship with harry, you didn't share the same romantic feelings. you hesitated, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts.

but something about it was off. while his words seemed genuine and soft, his eyes told a different story. they were dark and deceptive, gleaming with an unsettling intensity. it sent a shiver down your spine, making you question his true intentions. the way he stared at you felt predatory, like he was sizing you up, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at his prey. it created an alarming imbalance of power, as if he was counting on something beyond your control.

"harry," you began, your voice gentle but firm. “i’m really sorry for this but i don’t see you that way. i’m flattered but you have to understand… there are other girls that would love to go with you. you’re a heartthrob, y’know? you can get anyone with your appeal. it’s just that i’ve liked gwen for a while and have been waiting for something to happen but-“

“it seems i really can’t get anyone, (y/n),” he spat out in anger. harry's demeanor shifted, his face contorting with anger. he turned slightly away from you, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to regain composure. his tone dripped with bitterness as he spoke. “gwen huh? always gwen, isn’t it?”

“what?” you mouthed in confusion.

"you really think gwen would ever ask you to prom? better yet, you think she likes you?" he sneered, closing the distance between you until your chests almost touched.

“get outta my face, i’m leaving,” you demanded, frustration welling up inside you as you pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance. “harry, fuck off of me.”

but harry's arms held you firmly in place, preventing your escape. his voice took on a mocking tone as he continued to belittle you.

"gwen already has a date. some kid named miles from out of town. she's been talking to him for a while now," he informed you, his words hitting you like a blow. "she doesn't want you, never has. she's just being nice, pretending to be your friend. so i don’t know when or how you tricked yourself into thinking she has any interest in you."

your world seemed to crumble around you, a sickening feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. your legs grew weak, and you struggled to maintain your composure. tears welled up in your eyes, and you wiped them away, attempting to regain your composure before facing him.

“i know, it’s hard to hear. and she’s a fool for ever letting a girl like you slip away,” he continued, his tone shifting once again. "but you deserve better, (y/n). gwen is a selfish coward who only goes after what she wants with no regard for others. you deserve someone who appreciates you. someone like me. let me show you how you should be treated."

you took a step back, turning away from him, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. the tears flowed freely now, and a sense of disbelief washed over you. had you been deluding yourself all this time? was there truly no spark between you and gwen?

a forced smile played on your lips as you turned to face harry again, your entire demeanor transformed. it was as if a switch had been flipped, and you presented a facade that masked your true emotions.

"i'd love to go with you," you spoke weakly, your voice devoid of its usual strength. though you didn't reciprocate his feelings, you wanted a distraction. maybe he could give you the attention he claimed you deserved.

a wide, unsettling smile spread across harry's face, his expression taking on an eerie quality. it was a smile that sent shivers down your spine, as if there was something unsettling behind it. you couldn't shake off the feeling that his happiness wasn't truly about you saying yes.

"i'm glad," he replied, pulling you closer to his side. "let's get you home."

as you made your way back home with harry, the atmosphere became increasingly tense. the once-pleasant and work filled evening had transformed into an uncomfortable walk home. harry's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully.

you attempted to break the silence, hoping to alleviate the mounting unease. "so, what are we gonna wear? have you thought about it?"

harry's response was curt and lacking his usual warmth. "i have a few ideas in mind. we'll figure it out."

you couldn't help but notice the change in his demeanor, his friendly and charismatic personality replaced by something cold and distant. doubts and concerns swirled in your mind, but you couldn't find the energy to voice them. instead, you kept quiet, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory.

upon reaching your house, you turned to face harry, attempting to gauge his mood. "thanks for walking me home," you told him, your voice laced with uncertainty. "i'll see you at school tomorrow."

harry's eyes bore into yours, his gaze intense and unsettling. "no need to thank me," he replied with a slight sneer. "i'll be seeing a lot more of you from now on."

confusion washed over you as you watched him walk away, his figure disappearing into the night. something was undeniably wrong, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of impending danger. you retreated into your home, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

you went into your room and just jumped into your bed and before you knew it your eyes were wet and you blacked out.

it was saturday morning, and the events of the previous night were a blur in your memory. as you rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed, you glanced down at your clothes, and suddenly, it all came rushing back. you had spent the entire night looking over old photos of you and gwen, shedding tears, before finally succumbing to exhaustion and taking a hot shower to soothe your emotions.

your face felt tight and slightly flushed as you made your way to the mirror. you examined your reflection, noticing the lingering redness in your eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks. even your voice seemed affected, carrying a hint of strain from the relentless sobbing that had consumed you.

it wasn't the news itself that hurt you. it was fine if gwen didn't have romantic feelings for you because it’s not like you’re entitled to her. if anything, you found relief in knowing that your friendship could still remain intact. but the way harry had delivered it to you was harsh and blunt, forcing you to confront things you hadn't even considered before.

to realize that gwen may have never seen you in a romantic light, not even once, left you feeling foolish. the most humiliating part was the possibility of misreading every interaction, every gesture, and every shared moment. and to learn from harry of all people that she had someone else all along made you question how long she had been interested in miles without ever mentioning it to you. although you had heard his name mentioned a few times, it had never crossed your mind that gwen had feelings for him. and it definitely didn’t cross your mind that they had been talking as of recently.

your phone began to ring, causing a pang of agony to surge through you. "please, let it be a scam call," you silently pleaded, yearning for a moment of solitude to process your thoughts.

reluctantly, you picked up the phone and turned it around to see the caller's identity. it was gwen. you felt conflicted as your stomach began to turn once again. on one hand, you longed to talk to her, driven by the depth of your feelings. but on the other hand, the internal embarrassment you felt made you want to avoid her at all costs.

summoning your courage, you swiped to answer the call. "hi," you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to conceal any cracks.

there was a brief silence on the other end, and then gwen spoke with concern in her voice. "(y/n), are you okay? i tried texting you last night, but you didn't respond," she questioned.

"oh, um, yeah. i've just been having sleepless nights, so i went to bed early," you explained, attempting to brush off the previous night's emotional turmoil. "sorry bout’ that."

"are you sure everything's alright? it sounds like you've been crying," she pressed, genuine worry coloring her words. "if you need someone to talk to or if you want me to come over, just let me know. i’ll be there.”

"i'm fine. i wasn't crying, i literally just mentioned being tired," you replied, irritation seeping into your tone.

"i just want you to be honest with me. can i still come over? i have something i want to tell you," she mustered the courage to ask.

this was gwen's moment. she had been gathering her strength to speak to you about for so long, and now she was ready to make her request.

"yeah, sure. actually, i have something to tell you too," you added, your voice steadier now.

“okay, great- i mean good. i’ll see you later, okay?” she spoke, her voice cheery but a little nervous.

“see you later,” you replied, repeating it back to her as you hung up.

hours had past and it had only made you more anxious. what did she want to tell you? why wasn’t she here already?

you had already changed your clothes and fixed up your appearance to make yourself more presentable. you made sure to put some concealer under your eyes too to try and draw attention away from the puffiness and fading redness.

the knock at your door gave you a temporary relief from the anxiety of your mind as you went to go open it and greet gwen.

“hey,” she greeted, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you into a hug.

you hesitated for a moment, but you couldn’t resist the need to feel her touch. you wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her closer. there was something so comforting about her touch and gentleness. you both pulled back as gwen stared deeply into your eyes. her hands drifted from the sides of your waist to the small of your back as both your eyes flicked over each other's features.

“are you gonna raid my fridge or wanna go straight to my room?” you asked, teasing her as you broke the unspoken tension between you two.

she giggled as a smirk appeared on her lips. she gave your back a gentle slap, “hey! and no thank you, i actually wanted to come talk to you about something that’s been on my mind,” she confessed.

“oh okay,” you said silently, leading her to your room.

gwen made herself comfortable as she plopped herself on your bed. she manspreaded her legs as she threw her head back against your wall, giving you a glimpse of her faint adam's apple before looking down at you. her hair had gotten longer since she shaved the sides, turning it into more of an undercut now as it framed her face beautifully. it was moments like these you remembered that gwen had equally good looks to match her personality. god, she was so breathtaking. her outfit was an oversized band hoodie that overlapped the tied flannel shirt around your waist, paired with black leggings and her signature teal converse.

"do you always have to take up all the space in my bed?" you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your voice as you placed your hands on your hips.

gwen responded with a playful groan, accompanied by a mischievous look. "oh please, there's plenty of room," she retorted, patting the empty space next to her, inviting you to join.

taking a deep breath, you couldn't resist the playful banter, and you sat down next to her, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"so?" you prompted, your voice filled with anticipation, hoping she would take the lead in the conversation.

gwen's hesitation lingered in the air, her gaze momentarily shifting away as she gathered her thoughts. "i don't know... i've been wanting to tell you this for a while now, and, well, with prom coming up..."

before she could continue, you blurted out your own news, interrupting her. "harry asked me to prom."

the sudden interruption hung in the air, momentarily breaking the flow of the conversation. the nervous smile on gwen's face dropped immediately, and she sat up, her eyes locked onto yours with intensity.

"he what?" she questioned, her voice low and raspy, almost demanding you to repeat yourself.

"harry came here yesterday with flowers and asked me to be his prom date," you explained, sensing gwen's anger starting to simmer.

"(y/n), are you being serious with me right now?" she asked again, slowly rising from the bed as her anger began to surface.

"why the hell would i make any of this up, gwen?" you responded, a touch of frustration in your voice. "he said that he's liked me for a long time and that all he's been thinking about is asking me to prom."

gwen was in shock. anger fueled her thoughts toward harry. could he really be plotting revenge against her like this? was it possible that he would go to such lengths?

"do you think you're the first person he's told that to? he's not what you think," gwen told you firmly, her voice tinged with hurt and anger.

your irritation grew. you couldn't understand why gwen was so angry when she already had a date.

"really? so what is he then?" you questioned, your voice matching her intensity as you stood up to meet her gaze.

"i'll tell you this, he isn't the damn saint you're making him out to be!" gwen exclaimed, her anger palpable. "he's an actor, and if he's got you so hooked with a ten-minute performance, he's probably next in line for an oscar."

you scoffed at her frustration. "you have no business being mad at me for this when you already have your own date. do you want to have your cake and eat it too? because i'm sorry to tell you this, but that's not gonna slide with me. i'm allowed to have fun and talk to whoever i want," you declared, standing your ground.

gwen's eyes furrowed, and she put a hand over her mouth, taking a deep exhale before turning back to you.

"what date? what the hell are you talking about?" she hastily asked.

"don't play with me, gwen. i heard about you and miles. if it's not supposed to be a secret, then why didn't you mention it at all?" you raised your voice, frustration evident.

confusion etched over gwen's face. "did obnoxious osborn tell you this? because it's all bullshit, and he's talking out of his ass. he's literally known for being a heartthrob and making out with random girls in our class under the bleachers. come on, you know better than this," she explained, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and concern.

“i said don’t play with me, i’m not here to listen to you act childish and sound like a psycho tryna rhyme his name with the first words you can think of from a kids vocab book,” you yellee, quicklime calming yourself down.

you took a deep breath, ready to finish this.

"do i know better?" you repeated, stepping closer to her. "you're always disappearing randomly and refusing to open up about it. you act one way and then another, and you give me so many mixed signals that i've had enough of it!"

it felt like everything was falling apart, like a chaotic mess that couldn't be unraveled. after years of friendship, it was collapsing before your eyes like dominoes.

"i can't talk about it, okay? i have my own stuff, and you've never pressed me to tell you anything about that, so i know that’s not the real reason you’re upset," gwen argued back, her voice strained. "the mixed signals are what i came here to talk to you about, (y/n). i... i don't want to be friends with you anymore!" she admitted, her vulnerability showing through.

the room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. you took a couple of steps back, feeling the ground shift beneath you. is this what harry was talking about? no, you knew better than to trust him over gwen. but in this moment of vulnerability, the conflicting information dragged you in two different directions. was it true that she didn't want to be friends with you, as harry had tried to convince you, or did she see it entirely differently?

gwen put her hands over her face, gripping her hair out of frustration. she tried to step forward, reaching a hand out to you, but you refused, holding your ground.

"shit... (y/n), i didn't mean for it to come out like that," she attempted to explain, her voice choked with tears as she realized the intensity of the situation.

"leave," you told her, your voice stern and harsh.

"what? you can't be serious," she pleaded. "you don't seriously choose his word over mine, do you?"

"no! i just- i just can't do this right now, and i need you to leave," you replied, your voice filled with a mix of pain and frustration.

the room fell into an uneasy silence as gwen stared at you, her eyes wide reflecting her disbelief. slowly, she walked past you, tears streaming down her face as she looked down to avoid your gaze, and left without saying another word.

as the door closed behind her, you sank to the floor, feeling a heavy emptiness settle in your chest. the weight of the broken friendship added a weight onto you, and you couldn't help but question whether things could ever be the same again.

"you told her you didn't want to be friends anymore?" peter asked in disbelief as he leaned against a nearby locker, his eyes fixed on gwen.

gwen let out a frustrated sigh as she slammed her locker shut after putting her books inside, resting her back against it. "i didn't mean it like that, peter. i was just caught off guard. and to make matters worse, harry sabotaged everything," she explained, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "i never even saw it coming.

peter stepped beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "you know (y/n), gwen. she's smart and strong. she won't let harry manipulate her, and deep down, i think you know she doesn't have any real interest in him," he reassured her, urging her to have faith in your judgment.

gwen nodded, her eyes closing shut as she palmed her face. "i know, it's just... the thought of her with harry makes me physically sick," she admitted,

the image of you with someone else haunted gwen's thoughts. and knowing the person was harry, who didn’t even love or care for you, made it so much worse. she knew he could never love you the way she does. he was merely using you as a pawn in his little game, and it infuriated her that you were dragged into this one-sided fight.

"speak of the devil," peter muttered, gesturing for gwen to look down the hallway.

her eyes landed on you, engaged in a casual conversation with your friend liz allen. that was normal, but what wasn't normal was harry by your side, holding your hand as you strolled confidently down the hallway together. gwen's heart sank as she felt her tongue press against the inside of her cheek. he noticed her gaze and it only made his smirk grow.

“i'm gonna go with liz. see you later," you said to harry before walking away, leaving him with a warm smile

on his face.

"i'ii catch up with you later, baby," he replied, his tone affectionate as you disappeared into a nearby classroom.

gwen winced at the nickname, her inner cheek now bearing the marks of her biting down on it. she let out a deep sigh, her eyes still fixed on harry as he made his way over to her and peter.

"why the long face? the frown doesn't suit you," he taunted, trying to provoke a reaction from gwen.

and it worked.

gwen's frustration boiled over, and without hesitation, she grabbed harry by the collar and pushed him up against the wall, surprising him with her sudden burst of anger. the unexpected aggression caught harry off guard, eliciting a loud grunt from him.

"gwen, wait!" peter called out, attempting to intervene and calm her down.

“she’s not just some toy you can pick up and play with until you don’t need her anymore. she has nothing to do this with and you're seriously pathetic for going this low by dragging her into this just to get back at me,” gwen asserted.

harry let out a mocking laugh, trying to mask his surprise. he carefully chose his words, well aware that the hallways were empty at this time.

“but toys are meant to be played with by definition,” he said, his voice dripping with coldness. “does it make you mad when you see her with me? when i get to touch her the way you’ve wanted for so long and you couldn’t? you call me pathetic, but you couldn't even gather the courage to tell her how you feel. holding her hand made you shy away like a little girl," he retorted.

gwen yanked him forward before forcefully slamming him back into the wall. her eyes blazed with fierce determination. "you are the embodiment of pathetic, harry. this whole mess started because i don't like you, and guess what? that hasn't changed. you believe yourself to be sophisticated and superior to everyone else, but all you do is push others down to get yourself where you want to go. you disguise it behind the glamor and the clothes but behind it you’re just a lowlife with no real friends. you aren’t entitled to anybody or anything. and i guess since you’ve been spoiled all your life it’s up to me to teach you that no amount of money or charm will buy you dignity.”

taking a deep breath, gwen eased her grip on his collar, releasing him from her hold. “you think life is one big party and people are just trends you can skip over, but mark my words, you’re in for a rude awakening,” she stated.

"and what are you going to do?" he jeered, mocking her. what could she possibly do to free herself from the drama harry has ensnared her in, purely for his own sadistic pleasure of watching her life crumble?

"you'll see. but next time you dare to pull a stunt like this, remember who you're messing with," she warned, giving harry a menacing glare as she walked away, accompanied by peter.

gwen wouldn’t let harry get away with this. to her, this wasn’t about revenge, this was about you. this was about her doing right by you and treating you how you truly deserved to be treated. she was going to make sure you know exactly how she feels.

the day of prom had arrived, and the anticipation weighed heavily on your shoulders. it was evident that harry's focus lay not in the outfits you both wore, but rather in the desire to be seen with you. perhaps he aimed to stoke gwen's jealousy, to make her realize what she couldn't have.

as you slipped into your dress, its flattering silhouette accentuating your figure with an open back and slit, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. the night you once eagerly anticipated now loomed before you with apprehension. the fallout between you and gwen had left a void, and the lack of communication had extended to peter as well. the thought of addressing the situation felt overwhelming, so you chose the path of avoidance, despite knowing deep down that it may not have been the wisest decision.

occasional conversations with peter only served to reinforce your initial doubts about harry. he told you that he was acting sketchy, his fight with gwen, and you also shared with him the things harry had told you in his little speech. you acknowledged the validity of those doubts, but a part of you couldn't help but harbor anger towards gwen. you longed for her to take the initiative, to approach you and express her true feelings. while you understood her struggle with vocalizing emotions, the prolonged silence of unspoken words and the feeling of being strung along intensified the tension between you. it was a painful realization that your feelings for gwen had no sign of fading away soon, yet they seemed to have no chance to blossom into something more either. the stagnation gnawed at your heart.

the internal conflict in your mind tormented you, a battle between your desire for gwen's love and the frustration of her fears.

as you stood in front of the mirror, the anxiety of the night filled the air. the sound of a car pulling up outside your home signaled the arrival of harry, who had graciously offered to be your escort for the evening.

taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and made your way downstairs to meet harry. as you opened the door, he greeted you with a charming smile, his eyes momentarily flickering up and down your body.

“aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” harry stated as he leaned against your door frame. he wore all black which included his blazer and khaki’s, but instead of a button up he fancied himself in a matching black turtleneck. his shoes were equally dark oxford’s that he sported casually.

“who are you, someone’s grandpa?” you asked as a harsh tease.

all he did was chuckle in response, not sensing your bitterness toward him.

"ready for a night to remember?" harry asked, extending his hand to you.

you hesitated for a moment, torn between your heart and your mind. yet, you were in too deep and it felt all you could do now was seize the opportunity to make the best of your prom. you took harry's hand, allowing him to lead you towards the awaiting car.

stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in luxury. the plush leather seats and the soft ambiance of the car created an atmosphere of opulence. as the vehicle glided through the city streets, you couldn't help but marvel at the passing lights and how beautiful new york looked transformed by the night sky.

you glanced absentmindedly at the raindrops trickling down the window, seeking solace in the gentle rhythm of the drizzle. it acted as a soothing distraction from the swirling thoughts that occupied your mind, thoughts that revolved around one person in particular— gwen.

harry, perceptive as ever, sensed the weight of your emotions.

"you know you made the right decision," he remarked as he edged closer to you, his voice having an untruthful undertone.

you gave him a glare from the side of your eye before turning to face him.

“why do you say that?” you questioned, growing frustrated with everything.

"well, with gwen, you would've never reached this point," he responded simply.

his words stung, it was a bitter realization, one that left a sour taste in your mouth.

a wry smile played on harry's lips as he reached out to adjust the corsage he had bestowed upon you, an accessory chosen not out of admiration, but as a symbol of his possession over you.

harry sensed your conflicted state and attempted to try and ease you up.

"i may have attended plenty of lavish events in this car since i was young," harry continued, a faint shadow of a smile dancing on his lips. "but tonight... tonight feels different with you."

the words echoed hollowly, devoid of the genuine emotions you had secretly yearned for. they were a stark reminder that beneath the glittering facade, harry's intentions were far from pure. you didn’t respond, instead you chose to nod at his words as you recognized you were near the school.

"here we are, mr. osborn," the driver announced, interrupting the tense atmosphere.

harry's face lit up with a triumphant gleam as he turned toward you, extending his hand. reluctantly, you accepted his hand, stepping out of the car, the light raindrops falling around you like a somber symphony. as you made your way towards the entrance, you steeled yourself, preparing yourself for whatever mess that you knew you were about to get into.

as you stepped into the prom venue, a wave of excitement washed over you. the energy was electrifying, with music bouncing off the walls and vibrant lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the room. the once crappy gym had been transformed into a breathtaking space, adorned with elegant decorations that made the room look so enchanting and full of life.

the makeshift dance floor was enticing, its polished surface gleaming invitingly under the soft glow of the overhead chandeliers. couples twirled gracefully, their movements synchronized with the rhythm of the music. laughter filled the air as friends greeted each other and took pictures.

the walls were adorned with cascading drapes and shimmering streamers, creating a whimsical backdrop. tables were meticulously arranged, adorned with centerpieces of flowers and flickering candles, adding a special touch to the scene. everywhere you looked, the place was alive.

the dj stationed at the center of the room skillfully curated a playlist that blended popular hits and timeless classics. the beats throbbed through the speakers, encouraging everyone to take to the dance floor and lose themselves into the night.

as you made your way further into the so-called venue, you caught glimpses of friends and classmates as they passed by. yet, still no sight of gwen.

as the hours ticked by, you found yourself consumed by an unexplainable longing to see her. the mere thought of seeing her again stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you, leaving you restless on the dance floor and yearning for her presence.

throughout the night, you caught fleeting glimpses of her, mere fragments that left you wanting more. your attention was drawn to the distinct elements that composed her captivating image. her hair, cascading in waves, held a hint of mystery, teasing you with its untamed elegance. the sight of her donning a black leather jacket ignited a sense of rebellious allure, adding an edgy touch to her.

your eyes traced the contours of her neck adorned with a black choker, layered with multiple necklaces, each one a reflection of her individuality. beneath the jacket, a pink dress peeked through, its front short and the back long, while a layer of dark purple added on top.

black knee-length tights hugged her legs and as your gaze descended, you couldn't help but notice the black boots that completed her look.

as you swayed to the music, engrossed in conversation with your friends, harry slipped out of your view, claiming he was going to fetch drinks for the two of you. he made his way to the drink table, where an array of drinks and desserts awaited.

with a hint of mischief, harry muttered to gwen, "oh, don't mind me, just getting a drink for me and my girl." he poured two glasses, a calculated move to incite a sense of jealousy, knowing that gwen had been watching your interactions throughout the night, longing to be the one by your side. “enjoying the night, hannah montana?”

gwen, determined not to let harry's words affect her, initially brushed off his comment. however, his persistent needling proved too much to ignore. "wow, that was the funniest thing you've said yet! you deserve some applause for that one," she retorted sarcastically, her hands mockingly clapping for his attempt at humor.

he smirked watching her get riled up as he took it upon himself to stand next to gwen. he moved closer to her side, leaning in to speak softly into her ear. “sad to think that you thought you’d have the last word in this all, gwen. after this it’s off to college. you really messed up your chances. not even just with (y/n), but with me. we could’ve had something, but you only really care about yourself, huh?” he turned around fully, holding his two drinks ready to leave. “this is it. i have the last word.”

that was enough to do it for gwen.

gwen reached her breaking point. the music slowed down, the dj's announcement filling the air, urging everyone to bring their partners to the dance floor. the crowd surged, people jostling for space, with a few girls even approaching harry for a quick dance, eager to bask in his wealth and fuel his ego.

this was her time.

"hey, we need to talk," gwen said, her grip tight as she grabbed your arm. startled, you looked up at her, surprised to see her so close, determination evident in her eyes.

"yeah, we do," you agreed, allowing her to hurriedly guide you both outside, away from prying eyes and the bustling prom.

as you stepped into the open, the light drizzle that had fallen earlier transformed into a gentle rain shower. the lobby glistened with moisture, and a soft breeze rustled through the nearby trees. gwen's hand tightened around yours, helping you stay stable amidst the slippery ground.

"gwen," you called out, tone laced with concern, but she continued walking, leading you to a secluded spot beside the school lobby. "gwen, enough! you need to talk too," you exclaimed, feeling the urgency mounting within you.

she paused, her hand covering her face momentarily, trying to rein in her frustration. "i need to talk? you didn't even let me explain myself last time, and then i saw you here with him," gwen said, her words pouring out rapidly as she fought to control her emotions. "but that's not why i wanted to talk to you now. look, harry asked me to the prom, and i said no... because i had planned to ask you," she revealed.

your eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and realization washing over you. you had suspected harry hadn't been entirely truthful, but the revelation that gwen had intended to ask you left you speechless.

"what?" you mouthed, struggling to find the right words. "so when you came to my house?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling.

"yes! i was going to ask you," gwen affirmed, feeling relief as you finally began to understand. "i love you, (y/n). you've been my best friend, but i've fallen in love with you. i've been losing sleep over it. you're always there for me, understanding in ways i've never experienced before, and it scares me. i didn't want to tell you because i didn't want to risk losing what we have. the thought of you saying no and jeopardizing our friendship stressed me out so much. i would have rather kept my feelings hidden if it meant i could still have you in my life. but now, i just want to face my fears and say, 'screw it,' because i meant every word that i told you when i went to see you. i don't want to be just your friend anymore, i want to be more."

a silence settled between you, interrupted only by the sound of raindrops cascading down gwen's jacket. tears welled up in your eyes as her words pierced through your heart.

"you like me?" you simply asked, your voice almost breaking.

"more than like," she chuckled softly, running a hand through her hair. "you have no idea."

slowly, you closed the distance between you, your fingers fidgeting with the corsage on your wrist. "i like you too, gwen. love, even," you confessed. "i felt so foolish, thinking there might be something between us. part of me believed it was all in my head, and then harry started messing with me, planting doubts that you would never be interested. it hit me hard, and that's why i went with him. i felt trapped, but i also wanted to see your reaction."

gwen's smile grew, and she gently placed her hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "you wanted to see if i'd get jealous?" she inquired, curiosity dancing in her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips.

"yeah, i guess... i felt this thing between us at times, and it made me overthink. i thought that maybe, if you saw me with someone else, you would speak up. and if you didn't, well, it would be a win-win because at least i'd still have a date," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have treated you like this. i just get overwhelmed and scared when i don't think things are gonna work out, so i just avoided it all outta fear."

"don't apologize. both of us got caught up in harry's stupid revenge scheme," gwen said softly, her thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

in the quietude that enveloped you both, you found yourselves staring into each other's eyes. the moonlight filtered through the dark night sky, casting a soft glow upon gwen's features. she looked effortlessly beautiful, her blue eyes sparkling, and her hair framing her face. up close, you noticed the delicate touch of makeup—a rosy red on her lips and smokey eyeshadow with a hint of blue.

before you could fully comprehend your own actions, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss upon her lips. it was too quick for her to kiss back.

her eyes widened in shock and you felt her gasp against your lips. with the unspoken tension broken, there was no more denying the feelings that had been building between the two of you.

suddenly, gwen’s lips crashed against yours as her hands moved to grip your waist and hold you close. she melted into you, a moan escaping her lips as she pressed herself

against you and kissed you hungrily. the electricity between the two of you surrounded you, a silent understanding passing between you that changed the dynamic of friendship was changed forever.

gwen parted her lips away from yours as they brushed up against each other in the small distance.

her eyes softened, her gaze searching yours. "you deserve better," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "and i want to be the one who shows you that."

her hands massaged up and down your torso gently as your arms found their way around her neck. “you are better,” you whispered to her.

it was like you and a magnetism to you that gwen couldn’t fight as your words encouraged her to kiss you again. it was like a switch was flipped inside gwen. she'd never experienced something so electrifying before. feeling your lips against hers was pure passion. her heart raced with excitement as she let herself be swept along in the moment. when your lips met hers and your mouths filled with the taste of the other, gwen felt there was no more room for hesitation now, and the two of you were lost in an incredible kiss that couldn't be stopped.

"you don't need this anymore," gwen's voice came out in a hoarse whisper as she reached for the corsage on your wrist, the one harry had given you. her eyes lingered on the delicate blooms, appreciating their beauty for a fleeting moment. then, in one swift motion, she tore the corsage clean off your hand, her grip firm and unwavering. the force with which she removed it almost stung. gwen flung it far behind you, casting it away.

gwen pushed you lightly into a nearby wall, her hand cupping the back of your head so you wouldn’t get hurt by the impact. she wanted nothing more than to feel you against her, to have your arms wrapped around her as you kissed her again and again. her heart was starting to beat in her chest, and you could feel her breathing quicken.

but still gazing intently into your eyes and keeping her lips inches from your own, gwen briefly backed away. "i think harry's an idiot," she purred, her tone dripping with confidence.

she pulled you close again, her body pressed against yours as if she was trying to collide with you. "he doesn't know anything about you. you're the most amazing, incredible, sweet, adorable..." she paused, her heart racing. "perfect."

a drop of water landed on her nose and slid down her face, causing her to giggle. her radiant smile illuminated the moment, casting a spell of enchantment.

the weight of her words settled upon you, leaving you blissfully captivated. "perfect?" you repeated.

“so perfect, you don’t even have to try,” she replied, her eyes softening as she sees how flustered you get.

gwen leaned in and nibbled your lower lip as she bit the bottom teasingly, just to see how you'd react. "mmm, " she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her lips against yours again. you felt her lick on your lower lip as she cocked her head to the side to deepen the kiss. your body trembled as gwen's tongue pressed into your mouth. her hands reached out and drew you closer as she gently slipped past your playful resistance and explored your mouth.

her eyelids drifted shut as your tongue stroked hers. this was heaven for her, and your moans were like music to her ears. she ran her hand through your hair, her fingers gently brushing against the back of your neck as she continued to kiss you deeply and passionately. you could feel her other hand running slowly down your back, her fingertips gently trailing your spine. her kisses grew more frantic, her breathing becoming more rapid. all she wanted was you.

gwen felt your cool, plush thighs clamp around her leg as she slid it up between yours through the opening in your dress. her hands slid down your body, one moving past your legs and coming to rest on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze as she began to knead at your skin while the other put a firm hand on your hips. you winced at the sensation of her hand rubbing between your thighs as the opposite hand pushed you down onto her leg. in all the excitement, she had pushed herself closer, now grinding against you as she tried to find some sense of relief.

with the rain, the kiss became even sloppier. your mascara started to drip and streak, and you could feel it on your lashes. your and gwen's lipsticks ended up mixing and smearing up against each other as you were both kissing. gwen broke away from your mouth and started laying a trail of kisses down your jaw, leaving faint red lip prints in their wake. her red rose tinted lipstick was now much more faint and messy around her lips.

gwen lowered her mouth to your neck and began lightly sucking and nibbling. you almost went weak in the knees from the stimulating sensation caused by her lips leaving open mouth kisses on the surface of your skin that reached your collarbone and the curve of your breasts.

“(y/n)?” you heard a voice call.

shit, it was harry.

“(y/n), are you out here?” he called out once more.

gwen lifted herself off your neck and straightened herself as she glanced up at you with half-lidded eyes. peering from behind the wall that offered a semblance of concealment, you saw harry discovering the discarded corsage gwen had ripped off your wrist. he knelt down, his gaze fixated on it.

gwen's eyes met yours, a mischievous glint dancing within them. despite your scolding look, she leaned closer to you, undeterred by the risk of being overheard.

"he's going to hear us, gwen," you warned, aware of the potential consequences.

"so?" she replied, a hint of defiance in her voice. "unless you care, because i don't. let him hear."

her audacity caught you off guard, your face flushing as she returned to your neck, this time biting down hard on your skin as you felt the blood rush to the concentrated spots. you were sure they were gonna bruise and turn purple later.

“gwen!” you gasped loud, quickly covering your mouth to muffle her name. she went on, and her unexpected senses caught you off guard.

you made every effort to make sure you weren't too loud for harry to hear, but it was difficult to keep your whines under control.

but gwen knew. when he heard mysterious noises, noticed your discarded corsage, and realized he hadn't seen her go back inside, gwen knew he was aware based on the way she noticed in the corner of her eye how his face twisted. he ultimately stood up and turned around as he headed back inside.

with a soft pop, gwen pulled away from your neck. she stared attentively at you as you were breathing heavily against the wall. it was a gaze that held the power to captivate, like a masterful musician surveying their latest composition. in that moment, you felt like a canvas, waiting to be explored and transformed by her artistic touch.

“perfect and beautiful,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. “i’ve wanted to do that for so long- not the makeout and hickey thing. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i enjoyed it even if it moved a little fast but uh… the kiss part. i wanted to kiss you for a while to see how it felt.”

even though gwen was touching you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear with complete confidence, you grinned at how nervous she had become. wrapping your arms around yourself, you shivered slightly, the rain casting a chill upon you.

“you’re cold? hold on,” gwen's concern was immediate as she swiftly removed her leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “here, much better than getting hypothermia.”

you chuckled at her teasing as you felt her cheeks heat up. "thank you," you whispered, hugging her briefly.

she smiled down at you, admiring how you looked in her clothes. "no need to thank me. you look stunning in it," she complimented, a mischievous smirk gracing her lips.

as you emerged from your hiding place, she seized your hand.

“what do we do now?” you asked her.

gwen turned to you, a rebellious glint in her eye. “well, i’m over this prom thing,” she admitted as she pulled you closer, her hand releasing from yours to wrap her arm around your waist and hold you snugly against her side. “wanna get outta here?” she asked.

a smile played on your lips as you nodded in agreement. "yes, let's do it," you replied.

just as you both contemplate your next move, your phone vibrates, signaling a new message.

“don’t tell me it’s him,” she groaned as you nodded, confirming her suspicion.

she extended her hand, silently requesting your phone. "can i?" she asked, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

handing her your phone, you watched as gwen opened the camera app and positioned it in front of both of you. "smile!" she declared, capturing the moment with a click. the picture was you smiling as gwen held you jaw gently, planting a kiss on your cheek.

with the photo now saved on your phone, gwen's mischievous side took over. she swiftly navigated through your messages until she found harry's name. grinning devilishly, she selected his contact and attached the newly taken photo.

"just gonna let him know you won’t be coming back," gwen remarked, her voice full of wicked delight. without hesitation, she composed a short message to accompany the photo, her fingers dancing across the screen.

harry : (y/n) where did you go? you missing out sent at 8:53

you : hey harry, it’s gwen. she’s a little busy right now.

you : me and (y/n) are kinda over this prom night so we decided to do our own thing so i promise you we won’t be missing much. hope you enjoy the photo tho!! sent at 9:00

"there you go," gwen told you as she giggled to herself. "let's see how he likes that."

‘it feels good to be petty’ she thought, handing your phone back. the sky stretched out above, an expanse of darkness that seemed to swallow the world below. it was a canvas painted in shades of ebony and indigo, adorned with the twinkling jewels of distant stars. the rain had dampened her hair, causing it to cling to her forehead in an alluring fashion.

“so, my place? i have food,” she suggests, a smirk forming at the corners of her mouth.

you laughed at how casual it was. you two, ready to go to prom and dressed up, would now rather just go to her house and eat whatever leftovers she had to offer.

"wow, how fancy," you jested, your tone filled with playful sarcasm. "please, take me anywhere but here."

together, you left, leaving behind the glitz and glamor of prom and harry’s drama to finally have the night you and gwen deserved. as you stepped away from the whirlwind of glittering lights and laughter, you felt a wave of comfort wash over you in her presence. for just an instant, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. although you had fully anticipated having the most miserable prom and an even worst summer, you were now fully content. you had gwen, and that was all you could ask her.

she was just glad she could steal you back faster than he took you.

A/N: it’s finally here….😽😽

287 notes · View notes

wmarximoff · 2 years

Note

Hi!

For the requests, I’d like to ask you if you could write something with Wanda, fem!reader and the twins where one of them has a nightmare and his mothers comfort him. Then the next day turns into a family day full of love and funny moments!!

take a break | w. maximoff

summary: ever since you left on a mission far away, Billy has been having nightmares that have been worrying Wanda. all your family needs is for you to come home soon.

warnings: none, actually. this is just pure family fluff.

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 4k

A/N: sorry for the delay anon (this really took a long time to come out), but my classes haven't been helping much. but even with the delay, here it is! hope you like it!

|masterlist|

༺ᱬ༻

Wanda's right thumb had its cheek pressed against the long screen of her phone, in that digitized green icon found right in the center of the device's screen glass that indicated the beginning of a phone call. The name of the contact marked her wife's – there, next to it, was a small red heart emoji to distinguish her from the others, a symbolic trophy for having married her. And it was calling, the vibration of the device possible to feel through her fingers.

Wanda then lifted her forearm beneath that unbuttoned cardigan made of fine crimson wool, fitting the face of her phone against the length of her right ear. For a brief second, her upper teeth clenched and chewed the length of her rosy lower lip, in an act that served to replace the usual fidget she was used to doing with her fingers when faced with somewhat agonizing situations.

When she was younger, she'd do it with a handful of silver rings that she liked to carry around her fingers, twisting and tugging at them with her fingertips, but it had been a good few years now (certainly a decade or even little more than that) that the only adornment to be found there could only have been the thin golden band of a wedding ring, placed there by her wife, whose simple ornament was a small cut ruby gemstone that used to shimmer scarlet in the sunlight on summer days like that.

The phone, therefore, was held diagonally close to the high, sharp of Wanda's firm cheekbone, beneath a long strand of brown hair like a smooth coffee wave. And, with her hips leaning against the edge of the dark marble kitchen counter, her eyes a sizable glint of tension spreading around the jadish irises, Wanda waited.

She just waited, listening to her own breathing – the call unfolding, awaiting the reception of that person on the other end of the line whose call was directed.

She wouldn't like to say that she was restless, even a little schismatic, but it was kind of how her nerves felt as they bristled at that moment in question, being inside the tiled, pale-walled kitchen, an open window that allowed the glow of daylight from the backyard to flood the room in a golden pool of warm sunlight.

From where she stood, just a few feet away that crossed the ground floor of that domestic environment, her field of vision reached the back of the heads of the two dark-haired twin boys seated well on the living room sofa, both facing away from their mother, while on the television shined the color of some video game with wild explosions and bursts of digitized powers.

So she waited. She waited because there was nothing to do but wait; an agonized vein brandishing within the walls of her skull.

It didn't take more than seconds for the answer to come, however - even though, to Wanda's apprehensive perspective, the seconds took the form of minutes, and the minutes made up the whole of an hour, until your voice came from the phone pressed to your wife's intent ear.

“Hey, baby,” was what you said at first, to the deepest delight of your wife's spirits.

For Wanda, her heart blew out and she snorted, exhaling a limp sigh through her nose.

“Hi, honey,” had then greeted the enchantress, slowly dissipating the simple grip of her fingers against the phone, “Hi… hi. Hi malyshka. Hey.”

“Hey...?” there was an intonation of confused questioning, sort of as if you were smiling ambiguously on the other end of the line.

“Wanda, honey, is everything okay? You sound kinda... weird. Did something happen? Are the boys okay?"

“We’re okay yeah,” she sighed, the tips of her left fingers sweeping a strand of long hair behind her free ear outline, “It's just…I'm just relieved you're okay, baby.”

“Ah, my love,” you smiled small, even though so far away she didn't see it, she only felt it.

“Of course I'm fine, Wands. The mission is going well and so far I've only had to kick one colonizing alien ass, so... I consider this a victory. Hah. But I’ll be home to you and the boys soon, right? Soon, baby.”

“They miss you. And I... I miss you too, malysh...” Wanda hummed, releasing the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in her lungs.

“I miss you too, baby,” you sighed, half apologetically, even if nonverbally doing so, “You and the boys. But I'll be right back, okay? Be right back. Just a few more days, honey. By the beginning of next week we will be back to Earth and I will be home at the first opportunity. Promise.”

“Yeah, I… I know,” she repositioned her lower back against the hard marble counter, “I'm sorry I called like that and worried you, but it's just… Billy's been having those nightmares again, and... I wish you were here, Y/n."

“You don't need to apologize for anything, Wands. You know I love talking to you. And I… I wanted to be there too,” at your words she smiled lovingly against her phone, just moving up the corner of her peach lips.

“But hey, is Billy having these nightmares again? Damn, he must be scared. He’s fine? Is Tommy okay? He tends to worry a lot about Bill at these times.”

“He's fine, both of them are. But, he... he dreamed of you, Y/n. That you were having problems with the mission. And you know he has this magical connection to the astral plane, that sometimes he sees things that no one else sees, so I... I got worried, malysh. I thought it might be real this time.”

Her voice was stung, a thread sustained by a feeling that, even on the other side of the galaxy, she knew how to say that it hurt inside your chest.

“I'm fine, Wands,” you reassured her in a tiny tone, matching hers, imbued with affection as if you were even cuddled there with her on the blandness of your own bed, whispering security words in her ear.

“I promise I'm fine. We're all fine around here. And soon I’ll return to Earth, right? Just one more week, honey.”

“Okay,” Wanda mussed in a comfortable echo, recalling the facts as if to soothe her own worries, “Just one more week.”

“I love you, my little witch. I can't wait to go home and kiss you all over that pretty face of yours."

“I love you too, Y/n,” she smiled. “Very, very much. Just be careful out there, okay?”

“I'll be careful, honey. I’ll come home in one piece for you, I promise.”

With the eventual termination of the call, there was a measly second that Wanda took to look down at the blistered ruby in the outline of the wedding ring on her left finger.

With her right thumb she stroked the crimson-cut gemstone, studying it in an affectionate gaze that mirrored the first time she'd done it so many years ago, allowing a small, chaste smile to creep into the pulp of her lips. Only one more week was the intended promise. Wanda could always wait for you for just one more week.

But it was in a wide, crackling globe, flames still tender in their avid assiduous incandescence, just around the corner of the galaxy, where you found yourself so far from Westview, New Jersey – from Jersey to the world, and from the world to the vast longitude of the universe.

A enormous structure, blazing in stubborn embers, it projected a warm orange luminescence (like a stone of carnelian) straight into the macrocosm around it – the sun was a dwarf star situated in the wilderness of planet Earth for about forty-light-years of distance between their sidereal bodies, surrounding a giant, dead carcass that floated in space without a definite purpose in its principle.

In its orbit, in front of a triad of extrasolar rocks (the carcass of a deceased and monstrous Celestial creature), a celestial body integrated along its system a rotund belt of asteroids coming from the enormities of that dead being, heterogeneous cosmic dust circulating closely, like embers sprawled across the vastness of the eternal cosmos.

However, in the midst of such malformed rocks that had come loose from the body of the Celestial being, metallic infrastructures suspended like bridges were interconnected with each other in the spaceport of Exitar, in Knowhere, in a single chain of mercantilism in the local trading post, like a copious trade point erected in the most profuse concave of outer space.

With traffic areas branching from the spaceport towards the rocky edges of the asteroids, prefabricated housing complexes were crammed into multiple open circuits; shacks made of sheet metal, establishments no less than clandestine, saturated with an immoderate frenzy of travelers from all corners of the universe.

As a former member of the Nova Corps, born and raised on the planet of Xandar, located just outside the Tranta System, in the middle of the Andromeda galaxy, your life before Wanda was adorned by intergalactic travel on behalf of the Nova Empire that had given birth to you, until the moment when one of those missions to search for an interplanetary criminal guided you to the remote planet Earth, to meet the Avengers (and, consequently, with them, that beautiful girl with the piercing emerald eyes who would one day become your future wife).

It was customary in your nature, therefore, to venture into hyperspace. But that was your past, a long time, so far from your current reality – now you were a wife and a mother. The universe around you rotated at a different rotation than the others. Your whole life was back in New Jersey.

The spaceship had been parked there for you to enjoy a drink at a bar near the spaceport by an informal invitation made by that Quill guy, the Star Lord of the Guardians of the Galaxy himself, where the bay was integrated into amidst the caliginous vastness of hyperspace.

But those who descended behind the harbor, however, where the urbanization of buildings in vivid neon flourished (city and docks were segregated by a narrow border of space dust), were that admired young girl who was Kamala Khan, the teenage superhero then named as Miss Marvel, in the company of Monica Rambeau, to which you chose to stay behind and keep an eye on the ship.

“Hey kid. What are you still doing here, Y/n?”

The voice that reached your ears was that of Carol Danvers, however, as the golden-haired Captain in a beer-colored funnel cut approached you in relaxed strides, right into the spacecraft's cockpit.

Though she had lived long enough for her age to be even comparable to your mother's, Danvers was still decorated with exalted features in her firm jaw and well-shaped brows, appearing in her physique a healthy time in her life close to yours, and may even pass for a woman of similar age to your own. No soul who glanced at her would suppose that she was already closer to sixty years of age than thirty, or even approaching the graces of being forty.

“Wanted to stay here and miss out on all the fun? I heard that Kamala’s gonna challenge Quill to a dance off.”

“And I bet she's gonna crush him. She’s got the moves.”

Your giggle was half-airy, rehearsed, which Carol didn't miss, as she sat with both her elbows on her two bent knees inside the red, blue, and gold tactical outfit she so honorably wore, in a high-chair next to the one you were sitting on. The alien city sprang up in glowing neon enormities in front of the windshield of the parked spacecraft.

“So,” muttered the Captain, always so direct in her speech, her vision interspersed with a lock of medium-length, dirty-blond hair.

“Problems at home, kid? I saw your wife called you earlier. Is everyone okay? Did something happen?"

"No... I think?" you sighed.

“I mean, yes? They're fine, I think. I don't know. It's just that I'm kinda worried, Cap... Billy's having those nightmares of his again. It happens sometimes when I spend a lot of time away, he's a really worried kid. And, well… it's been almost a month, hasn't it?”

"Billy... your little boy, right?"

“Yeah, the youngest,” and then you sort of laughed, something that prompted a good-natured hoist of a dark brow from Carol.

“I mean, they're twins, but he's the youngest. Tommy keeps reminding him of this when they argue. I try to keep my composure, but… it's funny to watch.”

There was a goofy smile, with a healthy air of nostalgia that lit up the irises in your eyes as your chest swelled into your own blue and gold tactical outfit characteristic of the Nova Corps, little by little like a balloon, of maternal, affable, love of unparalleled uniqueness – it was your children you spoke so proudly of, after all.

Your children with Wanda, a unique combination of your best and hers too. Your greatest prize to keep and treasure in life.

“Sorry, it's just that… I miss her. Them.”

“It's okay, Y/n,” Carol reassured you, giving you the tiniest smug smile, “I… I know how it is. You know, being away from your family for so long. Your wife, your kid. To be… be away from the people you love.”

And then there was a look with a meaning you had no idea how to unravel, whereupon the Captain's smile faltered into a wavering shiver, fading like a scribble on the beach's edge washed by a wave of salt water. In the crimson material that made up the upper part of her suit, her Herculean shoulders seemed to tense into her broad-shouldered muscles for a while.

"You feel like you're missing things, don't you?" there was a haggard outline in the dark gaze of the woman older than you.

“That maybe you can come back and… things are different than they were when you left. That what you left behind no longer will be what you will find when you return.”

You blinked once and Carol maintained a thread of silence that lasted for a few counted seconds, her dark eyes roaming the metallic floor of the spacecraft.

It didn't take long for your cognition to dilute the Captain's lines like a jigsaw puzzle with the pieces neatly fitted in your brain; the individual hidden in the reflection was Monica, of course, who had once seen the Captain as more of a figure than her team leader – in another life, at another time, Carol, then in an enduring relationship with her mother, had been a maternal figure to that woman who now went by the name of Photon.

The blonde took a profuse gulp of oxygen before again lifting her steady face towards you.

“We'll drop you off at home in two days, Y/n,” the other woman then said, even though she caught you off guard with the new information.

"What?!" you raised both your eyebrows to the middle of your forehead, frowning, “But we still have to go to Morag and then to Xandar! That–that’s another week of travel!”

“I'm sure Nova Prime won't mind if we delay a few days after we've managed to catch a criminal none of them have been able to catch before,” Carol half shrugged, placing a strong open palmed hand over your right shoulder.

“No need to worry, kid. You deserve to be home with your family, take a break for a while, spend time with your wife and kids. Some things... some things are not worth losing in life.”

There was a second of thoughtful silence adorned by the aluminum of the ship's interior.

“Well… thanks, Cap,” you acknowledged her with a sincere smile, as the blonde woman stood on her navy-clad knees.

“Don't worry about it,” she placed both hands at her sides, in a typical triumphant hero pose that caused a ripple of comicality in her actions.

“But how about a drink to celebrate your vacation, huh? I promise I won't tell your boss if you don't."

When you rose from the high-chair, standing before Captain Marvel in all her glory, you only laughed thinly, shaking your head playfully from side to side. It would be fun to surprise you dedicated wife a little, back on Earth.

ᗢ

The nighttime darkness was still brewing solemnly over the placid sleeping Westview when Wanda opened one eyelid and then the other, both blurred with a comfortable feeling of pure sleep. She let out a languid yawn through her soft lips, and blinked for a long time. Her right wrist wandered up to her stunned face, emerging from the den of the silk sheets, and brushed against her left eye, which throbbed with an imaginary itch.

Even with her foggy vision, she managed to catch the neon green numbers “03” and “35” that glinted on the dim face of her digital clock, placed on the headboard just beside her bed, next to a porcelain lamp.

But before she could turn across the length of the vast double bed she shared with her wife, she felt a soothing touch spread up her left thigh to the exposed skin above her navel, and a bashful nose set in between her warm locks of dark hair, close to the skin of the nape of her neck.

Your firm arms encircled her from behind, and, with melodious lips, you had placed a long kiss on the contour of her neck, in the region of its junction with her left shoulder, to which the strap of the scarlet nightgown she wore on her body had fallen.

“Y/n...?” she mussed, still a little sleepy-drunk, though soon waking up in front of her face, “Y/n, what are you…? You... you came back. You came back early...”

You smiled against the pale skin at the back of her neck, where you kissed her warmly a second time that night, inhaling the scent of her moisturizer and shampoo.

“Not as early as I expected, actually. I wanted to get back before you guys went to bed… but hey, it's late” your tiny voice rang through the room, which before was dominated by a constant silence, broken only by small cicadas in the distance.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll still be here when you wake up in the morning.”

"You will?"

Wanda purred like a sleepy cat, her heavy lids returning to her emerald eyes. Barely, and somewhat needy, she snuggled against your warm body, pulling you close, a lazy little smile playing across her wet lips.

“Of course I will, baby,” you mussed, “I'll be here for you.”

“I missed you, detka. I've missed you so much…” Wanda sighed softly, her hand going over yours in a sleepy, needy grip.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” you whispered against her ear, nestling your forehead against the fragrant back of Wanda's neck, your fingers warm over her stomach, roaming the skin present there in imaginary traces.

“I really missed you so much.”

Once again there was silence. For a brief moment, you could feel Wanda's grip a little tense against your forearm that encircled her waist.

“Wait… do you still have your tactical gear on?”

“Eh,” you snorted, “No?”

And there were a few minutes spent like that, just between the sleepy caresses exchanged between you and your wife.

Kisses and touches reciprocated at the height of dawn as in a guarantee that you, in fact, were there for her, in the comfort of your bed, when was that the bedroom door opened slightly, as if what had done was just a summer breeze that had passed through every room in the house. You lifted your head from your wife's hair to find out what was going on there, at the foot of the bed.

Tommy's tiny left fingers were screwed into the doorknob, while the little boy's right hand was bringing with it Billy's forearm, who was standing behind him. The older twin was wearing pajamas with small dinosaur figures on his torso, while the younger boy was snoring to the blandishments of a half sleep in pajamas full of racing car figures.

“Hmm, boys…?” Wanda hummed, calling out in a sleepy voice that faded into the dark.

“Mama?” Tommy called back in a groggy sleepy thin voice, his iris eyes lavishing the same hue as yours half pressed down in a newly awakened, still half asleep mood, “Billy… Billy had another bad dream—”

“Mommy!”

The younger's voice, however, was energetic as it reverberated through the room, before a smudge of racing cars darted towards you, slamming into your chest as Billy spilled the room to knock you backwards, back to length of the mattress in an avid laugh.

Tommy, then awakened by his brother's avidity, soon tried to go with a bright smile to you, who snuggled both the twin boys close to your body warm.

“My little demon spawns! Hi!” you instantly erupted, placing warm kisses on the two boys' cheeks, “Hi, my little dudes. Hi. My God, I've missed you two so much..."

Wanda poured her sleepy face towards you, and you sighed, holding a steady gaze with the other woman – and it was a look elaborated in such amenity which Wanda bestowed upon you, with so much esteem and appreciation for her green irises, that you have not been able to contain in your core the radiant sensation of a warm softness, swelling your chest in profuse benevolence.

A constricted knot formed at the bottom of your esophagus, just to the middle of your torso, and your throat constricted in an exorbitant rush of unsyllabic emotions, which constrained the pulsing organ inside your chest, just so that the latter, in turn, would expand, so that the blood running through the branch of veins in your body would radiate into a tender, warm sensation of latent love.

“When did you come back, mom?” questioned Tommy, who had his small body supplanted by your right forearm.

“Please don't take too long to come back again, mommy."

Billy begged in sequence, his little face hidden in the gap that joined your neck to your left shoulder, pressing the material of your shirt between his hands as if he didn't want to let you go anytime soon.

“We miss you,” the little boy mussed against your skin, “I dreamed that you got hurt and couldn't come home anymore… I was scared, mommy. I was so afraid you wouldn't be able to come home anymore.”

You snorted, spraying the oxygen trapped in your lungs, an explosive softness in your heart light as a feather. You didn't want him to feel that way about you; that none of them would feel that way anymore. And so you blinked, flinching for a while, when it was that your vision clouded over in an aggregation of a sudden warm feeling that ached in your chest.

But Wanda came to the boy's support, gently in a caress imbued with maternal affability as she stroked the length of his back through the comfortable fabric of his pajamas, placing a long kiss on the back of Billy's head, between the short locks of light brown hair, giving off a mild scent of children's shampoo.

“Mommy's here now, baby,” she said in a low tone, looking at you over your son's head, “She's here for us.”

“Yeah,” you smiled small, turning your head at two broken angles to so, then, kiss each boy's forehead into your arms, “I'm here with you guys now. I’m here for you. All of you.”

ᗢ

The bright innocuous hue of cyan blue lit up the high morning sky, when did Billy and Tommy, quite energetic in their bustling activities befitting two bustling rosy-cheeked children, chuckled and kicked a football at each other across the backyard to enjoy the warm summer sun.

They did right after breakfast when you urged them to do so, with no room for further disagreements – Wanda, drenched in the sun, had spread a soft blanket on the green grass for her to get well. Your wife was reading a book of classic Sokovian literature while you ran after your two children.

Even if Tommy was just a white-shirted, green-sneakered embezzler cavorting across the grass, in nimble impulses which even amounted those who an average child would reach, you, in turn, after a long hour of kicking the ball to Billy (because Tommy wasn't much of a team sportsman himself) was just a figure lying on the sultry serenities, spread across the blanket with a swath of sunlight interspersed with your forearm, the tip of your nose pointing skyward.

You filled your chest with air, feeling a warm touch on your convex cheekbone, accompanied by a warm finger stroke. When you looked up you saw Wanda's face loaded with a small smile, sitting next to you – her brows furrowed and her eyes sweet, full of tenderness. Silently, she had smiled back at you, not showing her teeth.

“Hi, little witch.”

“Hi, detka,” Wanda whispered in a snuggled breath, tracing the perimeter of your brow arch with the soft digits of her delicate index and middle fingers.

“Your kids tired you, huh?”

“What's fighting a whole bunch of intergalactic bandits compared to playing soccer with your kids on a Sunday afternoon, right?” your voice was low and gentle, and she flowered a wry smile along her lips.

“But hey, I need to tell you something.”

“Something, huh?” Mouth dry and eyelashes fluttering as her eyes closed, Wanda made a vague sound of curiosity camouflaged beneath a limp smile.

“Yeah,” you propped yourself up on your elbows then, lifting your upper body from the checkered picnic blanket.

“I… I'm thinking of leaving the troop, Wanda. For good. I’ll be staying at home with you and the boys.”

On your wife's part, there was only a confused frown.

“But… baby, you,” she compressed her lips for half a second into a long pink line.

“All your life, you've always… you've always liked what you do, Y/n. I don't want you to give up doing what you love just to stay home watching some sitcoms and gardening with me—”

“Hey, hey,” you soothed her with a complacent smile, interspersed with sunlight as you adjusted your posture, “I want to do this, Wands."

Your left hand was splayed on Wanda's pale right knee, warmed by the blazing sun between the vault of the sky, the skin exposed by the red length of the fine summer dress your wife wore buttoned to her chest, granting there a caress to comfort her nerves.

“I really want to, you know? And I mean it. My whole life I've been going from planet to planet, fighting bad guys and getting my ass kicked, but… I think it's time for me to settle down, I guess. To spend more time with my family. With my amazing, gorgeous, perfect wife and my amazing—”

“Mama, Billy hexed the ball to keep hitting me!”

You and Wanda exchanged sunny looks for a measly second.

“Well, they’re,” you raised both your eyebrows, “Something.”

“They definitely are,” Wanda chuckled for a bit, before leaning forward to kiss your shoulder under the flannel shirt you wore open to your chest.

“But are you sure, honey? This is... a considerable change in your lifestyle. And I don't want you to give up anything for me.”

“Of course I'm sure, my love. I don't wanna miss any of this” you gestured between you and her with your right hand, “Anymore. I don't wanna be away from my family, Wanda. I wanna be here and share every moment, every experience, with them. With you, my little witch.”

You soon felt a gentle touch on the top of your cheekbone, accompanied by a warm finger stroke. Tilting your gaze to the side, you came across Wanda's face laden with a small smile – your wife's furrowed brows and sweet jadish eyes, warm as the sunbeams illuminating them. You'd smiled back at her and, in a gentle cut, with your eyes closed to just feel the moment, you bent down to capture the pulp of Wanda's lips with yours.

“Mommy!” Billy brandished from a distance, “Tommy is kicking the ball high so I can't catch it!”

“No I'm not, mom, he's lying! He's a doofus!”

“He’s lying that I'm lying, mama! And I'm not a doofus!"

"Eh," you sighed against your wife's lips, the tips of your noses brushing, your eyes so close together that her dark pupils were like two abyssal pools bordered by an emerald outline.

“Duty calls, right?”

“Didn't you say you wanted to live that life now, mommy?”

Her giggle came right after an amused eye roll from you.

"Very funny, little witch," and before you stood up, you once again stole a peck on Wanda's lips, "Very, very funny."

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