˖ ࣪ 🍦‹ Kwonienana⁺˖🏹 ⸝⸝𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

WE GOT MARRIED!

ִ ࣪𖤐 ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── choi seungcheol

SUMMARY: ── the premise of the popular reality show, "we got married," was simple: you and another celebrity would pretend to be married for two weeks, navigating various romantic and domestic challenges together. when your partner turns out to be choi seungcheol however, feelings complicate your perception of reality.

PAIRING: [choi seungcheol (s.coups) x f!reader] GENRE: [eventual smut, domestic fluff, angst, idol!au, fake dating, one bed, all the good shit]

CW: afab!reader, nicknames (angel, babygirl, baby, good girl), arguing (it’s sorted out), soft!dom ?? + pussydrunk cheol, big!dick cheol, fingering, penetration, safe sex (ofc), possessive!cheol, hair pulling, light choking

      ℘　　◌　　﹒　⠀ ꢾ꣒⠀　 ׅ⠀ㅤ　⑅

── pre-show interview:

interviewer: "thank you for joining us today! can you tell us a little about yourself and what initially made you hesitant to join 'we got married'?"

you fiddle with your hands and compose yourself into a smile.

“of course. i’m y/n, and to be honest, when i was first approached about the show, i had a lot of reservations. being an idol, my life is already under constant scrutiny, and the idea of faking a marriage on national television was daunting. i was worried about how my fans would react and whether I'd be able to genuinely connect with my on-screen partner."

interviewer: "what eventually convinced you to participate?"

you think, “it was a mix of curiosity and encouragement from my friends and management. they believed it would be a good opportunity for me to show a different side of myself, one that isn't always visible on stage. plus, the idea of experiencing something as unique as a reality show marriage was too intriguing to pass up."

interviewer: "do you know who your partner will be yet?

you smile nervously, “no, i don't. it’s a complete surprise for me. all i know is that it's someone from a well-known group. i’m really curious to find out who it is!"

interviewer: "that must be exciting! can you share what your ideal type is for the camera?”

you grin thoughtfully, “my ideal type is someone who is kind-hearted and takes care of the people around them. they should have a strong sense of responsibility but also listen and understand. a good sense of humor is a must — oh and physically, i guess i find myself drawn to someone with a warm smile and expressive eyes. someone who can be both charismatic on stage and down-to-earth in everyday life."

interviewer: "finally, do you have any worries or concerns going into the show?"

you: "i’m a bit worried about how awkward it might be at first. there’s always that initial nervousness when meeting someone new, and this situation is quite intense. i hope we can get past that quickly and have a good time together.”

—

day 1:

you stood in front of the door to a luxurious townhome, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides. this would be your new home for the next two weeks. the camera crew gave you a nod, signaling it was time to head inside. taking a deep breath, you open the door and step into the living room, where a warm, cozy ambiance greets you. as you set your bag down, you hear the sound of the front door opening again. you turn, breath caught in your throat, and a man, looking slightly familiar to you, enters the room.

he was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with dark jeans that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. his broad shoulders and well-defined chest were subtly outlined by the fabric of his shirt, hinting at the strength beneath. the open collar revealed a glimpse of his collarbones, which added an effortlessly sexy touch to his appearance and you thanked god you’d been paired with someone this attractive, as selfish as it sounded. his face was a perfect blend of boyish charm and mature masculinity and his dark hair was styled in a slightly tousled manner.

the man in front of you carried a polite smile. for a moment, you both stood there, slightly taken aback by the reality of the situation.then, as if on cue, you both bowed to each other in polite, awkward unison. "hello!" you said at the same time, voices overlapping. realizing what happened, you both laughed nervously and bowed again, this time with even more formality.

“hi, i’m y/n," you said, smiling despite your nerves.

“i’m seungcheol. it’s nice to meet you,” he said, returning your smile.

there was a brief pause as you both sized each other up, trying to gauge the other's reaction. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn't quite place it.

your heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned on you and you remembered his face from music and award shows. you were almost certain the man in front of you was a member of seventeen and your mind was almost more eased you were paired with another idol.

as you shook his hand, your mind raced with a million thoughts. should you mention that you know who he is? would it be weird? awkward?

before you could decide, seungcheol spoke again, his voice cheerful and inviting, “i know this is a bit of an odd situation, but let's make these two weeks memorable, okay?”

you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his face and your cheeks flushed slightly.

the first task was to explore the house together, finding little notes and hints left by the producers about upcoming challenges and activities. as you moved from room to room, seungcheol’s playful nature shined through. he made jokes about the odd decorations and even tried on an oversized apron in the kitchen, to which he realized how easily he could make you laugh.

in the living room, you found a note instructing you to cook your first meal together. seungcheol looked at you with genuine curiosity in his eyes. "do you cook often?"

you shook your head, “i try, but i’m not the best. how about you?”

he shrugged, “i can manage, could you hand me those eggs?”

working side by side in the kitchen, you both stumbled through the recipe, exchanging glances and giggles as you tried to make sense of the instructions. seungcheol’s presence was comforting; his easygoing demeanor made it feel less like a staged activity and you had to remind yourself of your situation every once in a while.

“careful!" you warned as he nearly knocked over a bowl of flour.

“oops," he laughed, catching it just in time. "oh my god, thanks for warning me.”

when the meal was finally ready, you both sat down at the coffee table, a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie settling in.

“you know," he says, his voice low and conspiratorial, "i have to admit, i was a bit of a fan of yours before this."

you almost spit out your food and your eyes widen in surprise, “you were?”

he nodded, a shy smirk playing on his lips. "yeah, i may or may not have listened to…a few, songs.”

you couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of disbelief, “well," you said, unable to hide the smile on your face, "i guess we both have some fangirling/fanboying to do then.”

seungcheol chuckled before taking a sip of his drink, “looks like we're off to a good start then."

later that evening, as you both settled on the couch to go over the day's events, you found yourself stealing glances at seungcheol when he wasn't looking. the cameras captured every moment, but by now, they had become background noise. seungcheol’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, his presence reassuring.

"so what did you think of our first day together?" seungcheol asked, turning to you with a gentle smile.

you smiled back, feeling more at ease now. "honestly , it was fun. a bit overwhelming at first, but i think we handled it pretty well."

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. "yeah , i think so too. it’s all about getting comfortable with each other, right?"

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "exactly."

as the night continued, the two of you talked about your experiences in the industry, sharing stories and laughing over funny moments. the more you talked, the more you realized how much you had in common. it was easy to forget the cameras were even there.

—

day 5:

it had been a few days of filming and your arranged marriage with the charming seungcheol was off to an...interesting start. between the awkward getting-to-know-you interviews and staged "newlywed" activities for the cameras, you were still trying to find your footing in this bizarre situation.

one minute, you and seungcheol were bickering like an old married couple over whose turn it was to do the dishes, (it would always end with him insisting he did the chore.) the next, you'd catch him shooting you an ambiguous look from under those ridiculously long lashes, causing a fluttery feeling to erupt in your stomach. it was a constant back-and-forth of feeling flustered yet intrigued by your new husband.

today, the production crew had you and seungcheol participate in a silly pillow fight "challenge" meant to showcase your playful newlywed dynamic. what started off as an innocent, goofy bout of whacking each other with the plush objects quickly devolved into an all-out war.

giggling breathlessly, you launched another fluffy projectile at seungcheol’s head, who had now affectionately insisted you call him cheol.

he taunted with a roguish grin, deflecting your pillow attack.

you both scrambled for ammunition, whacking each other relentlessly. you shrieked as a particularly fierce blow sent you tumbling backwards onto the bed.

in a flash, seungcheol pounced - pinning your wrists above your head as he straddled your waist. his sculpted body pressed against yours, stealing your breath away.

"i win," he murmured huskily, drinking in your flushed, disheveled state. a few dark strands of hair had fallen over his forehead, making him look ridiculously pretty and you both froze as the heated tension reached a tipping point, chests heaving from the exertion of your pillow fight.

then, all at once, realization seemed to wash over both of you. this had crossed a line, strayed too far from the realm of pretend into something that felt a little too real for your comfort. seungcheol quickly released your wrists and rolled off you, running a flustered hand through his tousled hair as the cameras cut and the producers applaud your chemistry ‘played up’ for the show.

“i…sorry, i got a bit carried away there," he muttered gruffly, unable to meet your eyes.

you pushed yourself into a sitting position, clutching a pillow protectively to your chest. “no, it's...yeah, me too," you mumbled, cheeks burning.

as seungcheol swiftly excused himself, you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper and more complicated had been irrevocably awakened on your end, you watched your fake husband’s broad back retreating towards the door, then he paused and glanced over his shoulder at you.

despite the flustered awkwardness of moments before, his gaze openly raked over your disheveled form in a way that made heat lick through your veins. you clutched the pillow tighter, suddenly feeling very exposed under his molten perusal.

as quickly as the blazing look had appeared, it faded to a neutral expression once more as he gave you a brisk nod. "i’ll...see you later," he murmured in a rough rasp before ducking out of the room, leaving you flushed and wondering what the hell had just happened.

—

day 9:

the sweltering summer heat had prompted the producers to film a scene with you and seungcheol enjoying some relaxation at the rooftop pool.

you tried not to stare too openly as seungcheol stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned, sculpted torso that made your mouth go dry. rivulets of glistening water trailed tantalizing paths down those firm abs as he sank into the cool pool with a contented sigh.

“you coming in or what, y/n?" he flashed you a lopsided grin, sending your pulse into an erratic stutter.

shaking yourself free of your momentary thirst, you made a big show of daintily dipping a toe in to test the temperature, “oh my god it’s freezing.” you step out of the water onto the poolside and shiver from the contact.

cheol arches an incredulous brow at your overly dramatic reaction. then without warning, he kicked up an arched wave that splashed you squarely in the face.

you sputtered in outraged shock as he cackled at your drenched, bedraggled state. you cursed at him and then tilted your head, “oh you’re gonna get it now…”

retaliating, you cannonballed directly towards him, prompting a yelp as he tried dodging the cascading wall of water.

what started as an innocent pool dip quickly devolved into an all-out splash fight, filled with laughter and shrieks, water spraying everywhere. at one point, seungcheol grabbed you around the waist from behind, holding you flush against his chest as you squealed and squirmed playfully...

as the sun dipped low on the horizon, it set the sky ablaze with vibrant shades of orange and red bled across the heavens, intermingling with streaks of brilliant pink and lavender. the surface of the rooftop pool shimmered like liquid amber, endlessly rippling and refracting the spectacular colors above.

as the playful battle subsided, you found yourselves standing chest-deep, catching your breath. seungcheol, hair plastered to his forehead, offered you a sheepish grin. his hand, reaching out to brush a stray strand from your eye, hesitated in mid-air.

the air crackled with a sudden tension, a shift from playful banter to something more intense. you held his gaze, unsure of where this unexpected touch might lead. the playful facade, for a moment, seemed to falter, revealing a vulnerability that sent a shiver down your spine.

as the camera crew wrapped their filming of the segment momentarily, cheol leaned against the pool deck, catching his breath, while you treaded water, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“you know," seungcheol said, his voice slightly breathless, "for someone who almost drowned me with pool water ten minutes ago - you’re pretty fun to do this whole fake marriage this with.”

his compliment caught you off guard, a blush creeping up your cheeks. you looked away, fiddling with the straps of your swimsuit and snorted, “you would have survived, trust.”

you bit your lip, “but you’re not…awful, to do this with. i’m glad it was you.”

his biceps flexed as he pushed himself off the wall, the water cascading down his toned arms. he smiled and ran a hand through his hair, which was now drying in messy waves.

you had to admit to yourself, in another situation, he was pretty close to your type. your mind took a sharp turn and a thrilling image of cheol, those big arms holding you close, pinning you down. he could easily manhandle you, and the thought sent a forbidden thrill through you.

taking a deep breath, you forced your gaze away from him, the delicious heat replaced by a cold wave of reality.

—

that evening, the producers insisted that as a "newly married couple," you and seungcheol needed to share the bedroom set for an authentic experience. your heart pounded as the camera crew ushered you both into the dimly lit bedroom, pulling the covers back invitingly.

"alright you two, get nice and cozy for us!" the director called out teasingly. "we’ll get some candid footage of your first night spent in the same room together as husband and wife."

you shot seungcheol an awkward look, but he just gave you a reassuring smile as he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the cameras rolled as you climbed stiffly into bed together, maintaining a prim distance at first.

however, as soon as the crew lights winked off and you were left in intimate shadows, cheol’s touch grew bolder. his arm snaked more fully around you, hand skimming along your curves as he tugged you flush against his solid frame and he watched your face for approval.

"just go with it for the cameras," he murmured in your ear, making you shiver at the feel of his warm breath fanning your neck.

you gave a shaky nod, trying to ignore the rampant spiraling spawning low in your belly from his nearness. but as the man next to you nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a contented sigh, you felt yourself instinctively relaxing into his embrace.

before long, the camera crew was dismissing themselves, leaving you and seungcheol tangled together intimately. you started to pull away, murmuring about giving him some space, but his arms only tightened around you.

“stay," he rumbled in that deep velvety tone that made heat curl low in your belly. "please. just for tonight."

you couldn't help but overthink the situation as you lay cocooned in seungcheol’s strong arms later that night. his slow, even breathing tickled the nape of your neck as he slumbered peacefully behind you.

this whole scenario - cuddling intimately, sharing a bed, his persistent insistence that you stay - it was quickly becoming difficult for you to differentiate reality and the fake of your friendship, or whatever you could call it.

realistically, there was no way seungcheol actually had romantic feelings for you, right? you were just some virtual stranger he'd been assigned to act affectionate towards for the sake of entertainment.

no, you reasoned to yourself, cheol was simply an incredibly dedicated performer who happened to be devastatingly good-looking. he was merely playing the role of an infatuated newlywed husband exceptionally well. all those lingering looks, the electrifying touches, the way he'd pulled you insistently into his embrace - it was just him staying committed to the act. you were just a tolerable person for him to pretend to be married to for the cameras. that’s all this was. if you started projecting more meaning onto your partner’s actions, reading into lingering touches and heated glances, you'd only end up getting your hopes up and complicating things.

chewing your lip, you willed yourself not to dwell on the intimacy of your current position - pressed snugly back against his toned chest, legs tangled together, breaths mingling. it didn’t mean anything. he was just...really, really good at making this fake marriage feel real.

you lay there for a long while, keenly aware of every rise and fall of seungcheol’s chest against your back, the whisper of his warm breath fanning your nape. his arm was a solid, heated band around your waist, anchoring you to his slumbering form.

carefully, you began extracting yourself from his arms, trying not to rouse him. he made a soft grumbling sound of protest as you slipped out of bed, his arm reflexively tightening for a moment before falling away. you froze, watching him with bated breath, but he merely rolled onto his back with a gusty sigh, face relaxing back into peaceful slumber.

for a long moment, you simply stood there drinking in the sight of him - all tousled ebony hair, chiseled features, lips slightly parted as he slumbered. your heart gave a powerful thud, desperate longing temporarily overwhelming rationality.

then, you wrenched your gaze away, wrapping your arms around yourself as you crept towards the door on soft feet and went to your separate bedroom. this was for the best. putting some distance between you before things inevitably became more tangled and awkward.

—

day 12:

"you’re burning it!" seungcheol suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the pan on the stove where the sauce was starting to smoke.

by late afternoon, you were both working on preparing dinner in the kitchen. the producers had given you a complex recipe to follow, and the pressure was mounting. seungcheol was chopping vegetables while you tried to manage the stove, but things weren't going as planned.

you glanced over, feeling flustered. "i know, i know! i’m trying to fix it!"

"well, you need to do it faster! we can't serve burnt food," he retorted, his tone sharper than you expected.

you felt a surge of irritation. "why don't you come over here and do it then if you're so concerned?"

seungcheol put down the knife he was holding, his jaw tightening. "i’m just trying to help. there’s no need to get defensive."

you turn off the stove and face him, your frustration boiling over. "it feels like you're criticizing everything i’m doing. this is supposed to be fun but—“ you sigh.

seungcheol’s expression softened slightly, but he didn't back down. "i’m not trying to criticize you. i’m just stressed because i want this to turn out well. we’re both under a lot of pressure.”

his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. you felt a warmth bloom in your cheeks, a prickling awareness that transcended the confines of the tiny kitchen. it wasn't just the heat from the stove anymore; it was the sudden, electrifying tension that crackled between you.

whatever this "show marriage" was quickly becoming, it was growing increasingly difficult to remember it wasn't real.

his gaze held yours, a storm brewing in his dark eyes. was it just the stress of the competition, or was there something more? maybe it was the way his thumb brushed against yours as he reached for a spatula, a touch that lingered a beat too long. maybe it was the way his voice seemed to drop an octave whenever he spoke directly to you.

the air grew thick, the playful banter of the morning replaced by a charged silence. you weren't talking simply about cooking anymore. this felt like something more, something simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

suddenly, a loud clang from the living room shattered the spell. the cameraman had accidentally knocked over a vase, the sound breaking the intimate bubble you'd somehow created. seungcheol offered a grin of reconciliation, the tension momentarily broken.

as you both cleaned up the broken vase, a playful jab exchanged here and there, you couldn't shake the feeling that cheol’s feelings for you mirrored your own. maybe it was just wishful thinking, fueled by the close proximity and manufactured intimacy of the show. but a tiny, hopeful spark ignited within you. perhaps, just perhaps, this fake marriage could be a gateway into something else.

the air crackled with an unspoken apology after your argument in the kitchen. the rest of the day was filmed in a tense silence, punctuated only by the polite pleasantries expected for the cameras. seungcheol stole glances at you every now and then, his gaze laced with regret, but you studiously avoided his eyes.

dinner was a quiet affair, the weight of the fight hanging heavy between you. as the last crew member packed up their equipment and said their goodbyes, a heavy sigh escaped seungcheol’s lips. you remembered you only had two more days left with him before you parted ways and continued your daily, busy lives.

you lean against the doorframe of cheol’s assigned bedroom. he’s reading something foreign and doesn’t notice your presence at first. "hey," you started hesitantly, the artificiality of your fabricated married life suddenly feeling suffocating. he looked up, his eyes filled with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before.

"i shouldn't have snapped at you," he said, his voice rough. "this whole thing... the pressure, the cameras... it just — you know, gets to me sometimes.”

you understood. the world only saw the polished, perfect idols on stage, not the stress and anxieties that gnawed at them behind the scenes. partially this show felt like a risk of balance between speculation and approval. “i know," you admitted softly, surprised at the tremor in your voice. "it gets to me too."

silence settled again, but this time it wasn't tense. it was a comfortable quiet, an unspoken understanding blooming between you.

you took a seat on the mattress and asked him what he was reading.

“amour,” he says, flipping the book over to show you the cover.

“amour?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "isn’t that french for love?"

cheol rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "yeah, it is. found it at the airport bookstore. it’s about a journalist who travels around france asking people about love."

a playful glint sparked in your eyes. "funny," you said, tracing the title with your finger, “didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

a wry smile tugged at the corner of seungcheol's lips. "maybe i’m just curious," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur that made you nervous. "especially after all this... 'pretend' marriage stuff." he paused, his gaze flickering from the book to your face. "maybe the line between pretending and feeling is a little more blurry than we thought."

he words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. the playful banter you'd used as a shield these past 2 weeks suddenly felt inadequate. you met his gaze, the air crackling with a new kind of tension.

"maybe it is," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

the glint in your eyes softened into something deeper, something that mirrored the sudden intensity in cheol’s gaze. he set his book down on the nightstand with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the heavy silence that had descended upon the room.

he took a slow movement towards you across the bed, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your breath catch. you could practically feel the unspoken question hanging in the air, a question your heart already knew the answer to. there was a palpable tension between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer.

without another word, seungcheol closed the remaining distance between you. his hand reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. his thumb brushed against your soft skin, a gentle caress that spoke volumes. it was as if he was trying to communicate everything he felt in that simple touch, the unspoken emotions and the growing connection between you.

his eyes flickered down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, asking for permission without uttering a single word. you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, your heart pounding in your chest.

then, he leaned in. the kiss was hesitant at first, a soft exploration that tasted of unspoken longing and a newfound vulnerability. hips lips were warm and tender against yours, moving with a gentleness that made your heart ache and charged with the electricity of forbidden desire and the sweetness of a connection that transcended the cameras and the manufactured reality of your "marriage."

as the kiss deepened, seungcheol’s other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. you responded instinctively, your hands sliding up to rest on his broad shoulders. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. the kiss grew more passionate, an unspoken promise of the bond forming between you.

his fingers threaded through your hair, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. the heat of his body pressed against yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart mirroring your own. every touch, every movement was filled with a mix of tenderness and urgency, a dance of emotions that neither of you could deny any longer.

in one swift movement, seungcheol lifted you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around you securely. the sudden shift made you gasp, breaking the kiss momentarily. he took advantage of your parted lips, diving back in with a new intensity. his hand tangled in your hair, gripping it roughly as he deepened the kiss. the raw hunger in his actions satisfied a need you’d had since the moment you met him and ignited a new thirst in you for more than a kiss.

his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your jaw and neck. seungcheol’s breath was warm against your skin, each kiss sending shivers down your spine. "cheol-ie," you breathed out, your voice shaky with desire. "i’ve needed you so bad.”

he groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating through you and making your core tighten with need. "you have no idea how much I’ve wanted you babygirl,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing. the nickname makes you feel weak in his arms as they roam over your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

you began to move against him, grinding your hips down on his lap. the friction elicited a deep, guttural moan from his chest, his grip on your hair tightening. his lips continued their path along your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin. each touch, each kiss, was driving you both closer to the edge.

your hands slid under his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours and see the body you’d thought about and fantasized about at the pool. his muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out another low groan. the sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, making you grind harder against him.

feeling the need for more, you reached for the hem of your top, and without hesitation, cheol’s hands followed suit, helping you remove the garment until it fell forgotten to the floor. his eyes drank in the sight before him, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. with a passion that matched your own, he leaned in to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, his movements urgent and commanding.

seungcheol’s hands moved to your breasts, his touch sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. his lips followed suit, trailing hot kisses down your neck and collarbone before finding their way to your exposed skin. the sensation of his warm mouth on your sensitive flesh made you gasp, a moan escaping your lips as you arched into his touch.

as he sucked and massaged your breasts with a hunger that bordered on desperation, you couldn't help but whine his name, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of desire.

his only response was a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating through you.

cheol’s hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements and matching your rhythm. the sensation of his hardness pressing against you was intoxicating, heightening the desire coursing through your veins. “i need you," he whispered hoarsely against your neck, his breath hot and heavy.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. the intensity you saw there took your breath away. "i need you too, cheol," you whispered back, your voice filled with the same raw need.

"show me," he commanded, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative tone. "show me how much you want me."

you bit your lip and your mind was urging you to shed the last remnants of clothing separating you from seungcheol’s touch. with a sense of urgency, you sat up, for just a moment to rid yourself of your pajama shorts and panties. he gently helped you slip out of the remainder of your clothes until you were completely bare in front of him.

as you returned to straddle him, seungcheol’s eyes darkened with possessiveness, his slightly dumbfounded gaze raking over your exposed form with undisguised lust. you reached for his hand, guiding it to where you needed him most.

his fingers moved in circles with a skill and reverence that bordered on worship. as he teased and caressed you with one hand, his other grabbed the back of your neck to pull you into his orbit.

"cheol," you gasped, your voice filled with need as his touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. "pl-please, want you inside of me..”

his response was a low, guttural growl, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he pressed his fingers against your throbbing center, the sensation driving you crazy, and leaned against your ear, “i know angel, i know, need to prep you.”

he slipped two long fingers inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. you couldn't help but arch impossibly back into his touch, a high pitched moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely. his fingers curled inside you and slipped in and out, stretching you and sending waves of pleasure over you that you could feel building closer and closer to your climax.

cheol pulled your face closer to his by your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you and whispered in his deep voice words of praise, “you’re so good for me.” his voice was rough in responsive to your obedience.

“such a good girl.”

the words sent a thrill through you, and your breathing that had gotten more quick by the second let all the air escape from your lungs as you completely gave in to the sensations in your body. you reached your peak screaming his name and collapsing onto the bed with your back. now on top of you, cheol guided you down from your high, and his movements became slower and more gentle until his fingers pulled out of you.

you felt his hand move to your lips, gently pressing against them. with a mix of hesitation and curiosity, you parted your lips, allowing cheol to guide his fingers inside your mouth so you could taste yourself.

“that’s it babygirl,” he said, a low groan escaping his lips. the sight of you, so willing and eager for his touch, only fueled the fire burning inside of him. he pulls his fingers from your mouth to press gentle kisses on your lips and your cheek - a sharp contrast from the intensity that had taken over him before.

as the passion of the moment continued to build, you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh. seungcheol’s arousal was evident, his desire matching your own in its fervor. a surge of need washed over you, and you found yourself craving him in a way that was almost overwhelming.

desperation clawed at your insides, urging you to beg for him, to plead with him to take you in his arms and fuck you until you saw stars. but as you glanced into his eyes, you saw a flicker of uncertainty, a hint of fear lurking beneath the surface.

you reached for him, your fingers tracing the outline of his arousal through his pants. the intensity of his desire was palpable, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. you wanted him, needed him, in a way that bordered on obsession. but as you moved to undo his pants, you felt him hesitate, his hands shaking slightly. "i…i don’t know if i can," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with a sigh.

you whispered, your voice soft and filled with sincerity. "i want this, with you."

a flicker of relief flashed across his features, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your words. but the worry still lingered in his eyes, the fear of causing you pain evident in every line of his expression. he reached down to free his member from the confines of his sweatpants, discarding the clothing with a swift movement. as his length sprang free, you couldn't help but gasp at the sight before you. he was almost comically big, his arousal standing proudly against his abdomen, thick and pulsing with desire.

a mix of excitement and nervousness coursed through you as you watched him, desire pooling low in your belly. you couldn't help but wonder how he was going to fit inside of you, the thought sending a thrill of anticipation racing through you. seungcheol reached for his wallet on the nightstand, retrieving a condom with practiced ease and slipped it on.

cheol lifted your legs over his head, moving himself between them, a gasp escaped your lips at the sudden change in position. you felt him slowly enter you, his size stretching you in a way that was both exhilarating and slightly painful. the stretch stung, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body, but it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, filling you completely and leaving you breathless with desire.

“‘s-so big,” was all you could breathe out with awe in your voice.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he murmured with both hands holding your legs over his shoulder so he could stretch you out as much as possible. bottoming out, he studied your face for signs of discomfort and deciding he could move. as seungcheol began to thrust gently at first, you felt his movements cautious and tender, as if he were testing the waters. each slow push and pull sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, his size stretching you in ways that ignited a fire deep within.

“feels so fucking good, your perfect pussy…” he groans into your neck.

you couldn't help but vocalize how good you felt as well, “don’t stop baby, please.”

something about that nickname makes his movements became more urgent, more desperate, as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of being inside you. with each thrust, you felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable crescendo. his thrusts became rougher, more dominant, as he took control of the rhythm. with a growl of desire, he reached for your throat, his grip firm but not constricting.

the sensation of his hand around your neck sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you, the combination of pleasure and pain driving you wild with desire. "who makes you feel this good?" he demanded, his voice rough with need.

you gasped at the sensation, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. "you," you screamed, your voice filled with rawness. "It's you, cheol."

he flipped you over onto your hands and knees, positioning you perfectly for him to take you from behind. you gasped at the sudden change in position, the feeling of vulnerability and excitement coursing through you. but before you could react, seungcheol’s hands were on you, grabbing your ass possessively as he pulled you towards him. the sensation of his grip on your flesh sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, curved for him to hit your perfect angle.

as you thought you couldn't take any more, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pulling you back towards him with a force that left you breathless. “want you to be mine..” he choked out, his words claiming you.

“‘m yours," you gasped, your voice surrendering yourself completely. with a final, desperate thrust, cheol buried himself deep inside you, sending you both hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. pleasure exploded through every nerve ending in your body as you both reached the peak together, your cries of passion mingling in the air as you rode out the waves of bliss together.

seungcheol slowly withdrew from you and as you caught your breathe, he removed the condom, discarding it thoughtfully before turning his attention back to you. his demeanor shifted, his previous intensity giving way to a tender concern. leaning in, he pressed soft kisses to your tired face, his touch gentle and reassuring. "are you okay?" he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern as he traced a soothing hand along your sweaty cheek.

you nodded, a contented smile gracing your lips as you bask in the warmth of his affection.

he tenderly cleaned you with a warm, damp cloth that he quickly fetched from the bathroom, his movements gentle and careful as he ensured tour comfort. once satisfied, he disposed of the cloth and returned to your side, pulling the covers over the both of your naked bodies.

you lay in each other's arms, the quiet of the room enveloping them like a comforting embrace. the air was filled with a sense of contentment but also questions rang through your mind. unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you spoke up. "cheol, earlier... did you mean what you said?" you asked, her voice tentative yet filled with hope.

seungcheol turned to you, his gaze soft yet filled with meaning. “every word," he replied, his voice steady and sure. “if you want — then you’re mine, and i’m yours.”

your mind buzzed with uncertainty and you sigh, snuggling closer to him. the realization that your time together on the show was fleeting weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over the intimacy you had shared.

"seungcheol," you begin, switching from the nickname you’d been using. “i can’t help but wonder...after filming ends, what happens to us? we haven't known each other for long, and...” you gnawed at your lip, “what if we’re just caught in the moment?”

his expression faltered, a flicker of hurt flashing across his features at your words. he had been so certain of your connection, so confident in the depth of your feelings for each other, that your doubts came as a painful blow.

he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently cupped your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "caught in the moment?" he repeated, his voice filled with an anxiety-ridden tone you had never heard before. "is that really what you think this is?"

your chest clenched at the anguish in seungcheol’s eyes, the weight of your words settling heavily between the two of you. you hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't realized the impact your doubts would have on him.

"no, seungcheol, that's not what i meant," you hurried to explain, sitting up — your voice thick with regret. "i just... i’m scared. scared that what we have isn't enough to survive once the cameras stop rolling."

seungcheol sat up, shoulders slumped, the weight of your uncertainty pressing down on him like a boulder. "i need some time to think," he said, his voice strained. without another word, he stood up, dressed himself with the clothes he’d discarded on the floor as you protested, and left the room, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing through the silence.

you curled up under the covers, the emptiness of the room amplifying the loneliness you felt.

—

day 13:

the next morning dawned with a heavy sense of awkwardness hanging in the air. as you emerged from your room, the weight of last night’s conversation still pressed on your chest. cheol was already in the kitchen, his back turned to you as he prepared breakfast. the usual warmth and easy smiles were conspicuously absent.

"good morning," you said softly, trying to break the tension.

"morning," he replied flatly, not turning to face you. his tone was distant, a stark contrast to the intimate moments you had shared just hours before.

breakfast was a quiet affair, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. every clink of cutlery felt amplified, every glance avoided a reminder of the rift that had formed.

filming started shortly after, the crew bustling around to set up the day’s scenes. you and seungcheol went through the motions, but the chemistry that had once made your interactions effortless now felt forced. the cameras captured your strained smiles and awkward pauses, the tension between you palpable.

by the end of the day, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved tension was nearly unbearable. as the crew packed up and the lights dimmed, you felt a deep sense of despair settle in. the connection that had once felt so strong now seemed fragile.

the newly familiar routine of brushing your teeth and changing into pajamas felt strangely hollow without seungcheol’s presence by your side. as you slipped under the covers, the cool sheets seemed to amplify the emptiness of the space beside you.

—

day 14:

the next day dawned with a sense of finality, the knowledge that it was the last day of filming adding a layer of bittersweet tension to the air. you went through your morning routine mechanically, each action feeling heavy with the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved emotions between you and your fake husband.

the filming started early, the crew bustling around to capture the last few scenes of your time together. you and seungcheol interacted politely, tension still lingering. you found yourself stealing glances at him, wishing for a moment alone to bridge the gap, but the demands of filming left little room for personal conversations. the day moved swiftly, and before you knew it, it was time for the post-show interview.

—

post-show interview:

you sat in the brightly lit room, the camera trained on you as the producer asked the final questions. the weight of the moment pressed on you, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

interviewer: "so, how do you feel now that the show is ending?”

her voice was gentle but probing.

you paused, considering your words carefully. "its been an amazing experience," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "i’ve learned so much about myself and about what i want in a relationship. and...i’ve come to care for seungcheol deeply. more than i expected."

the interviewer leaned in, sensing the depth of your emotions.

interviewer: “can you elaborate on that? how has your relationship with seungcheol evolved?"

you nodded, your heart pounding. "at first, it was just about getting to know each other, but as the days went by, i found myself feeling…a certain way about him. he’s kind, supportive, and has this way of making me feel seen and valued. i’ve realized that i fell for him and that my feelings were real.”

a pang of regret hit you, remembering your doubts and the hurt in cheol’s eyes. you wondered if you should share your feelings fully, fearing the consequences of the media. but then, you decided—if there was a chance that he would see this interview when the show aired, perhaps he would understand the depth of your feelings and know that you regretted your words.

“i’ve fallen for seungcheol," you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. "and i regret the doubts i voiced. i wish i could take them back. i hope... i hope he can see how much he means to me."

the interviewer smiled softly, sensing the raw emotion in your words and the scoop she had just gotten. “thank you for sharing that," she said gently. "it’s clear that this experience has been transformative for you."

—

the weeks after the show wrapped up were a whirlwind of activity as you dived back into your work. your agency had announced a comeback, and preparations were in full swing, leaving little time for anything else. yet, despite the hectic schedule, thoughts of seungcheol lingered in the back of your mind, a constant undercurrent to your busy days. you cherished the rare quiet moments in your dorm, where you could catch up with your girl friends or simply relax. even during these times, you found yourself checking your phone, hoping for a message from the person you longed for. as the days passed with no word, a sense of uncertainty grew, mingled with the hope that he would reach out once the show aired.

when the show finally did air, you watched your post-show interview with bated breath, wondering how seungcheol would react. the raw honesty of your confession, the vulnerability you had shown, left you feeling exposed but kept you waiting next to your phone.

then, the call came. hearing cheol’s voice, filled with emotion and understanding, was like a balm to your weary heart. his words of reconciliation and his desire to give your relationship a real chance were everything you had hoped for. the prospect of meeting him off-camera, to explore your connection without the pressures of the show, filled you with a renewed sense of excitement and somewhat worry.

the next day, you found yourself standing outside a small, cozy café, your heart racing with anticipation. the door opened, and there he was—your same old cheol, looking just as nervous and hopeful as you felt.

he smiled as he saw you, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart flutter. "hey," he said softly, stepping closer.

"hey," you replied, your voice quiet and your eyes watery.

without another word, he pulled you into a hug, holding you close. the warmth of his embrace, the familiar scent of him, it all felt right.

you both sat down, ordering drinks and talking about everything and nothing. the conversation flowed easily, the tension from the show slowly melting away as you reconnected on a deeper, more personal level.

"i’ve been thinking about you every day," he confessed, his hand reaching out to cover yours. "i want to explore this, see where it leads. no cameras, no scripts—just us."

you nodded, tears of happiness glistening in your eyes. "i want that too, cheol. i want us to have a real chance."

as seungcheol and you left the café, a small crowd had gathered outside, eager to catch a glimpse of the two of you together. camera flashes illuminated the sidewalk as fan-sites and news networks alike snapped photos, their interest palpable in the air. reporters shouted questions, their voices blending into a cacophony of speculation about your relationship.

online, netizens dissected every detail, analyzing photos and videos from the show and your recent café outing. comments and posts flooded social media platforms, with hashtags trending worldwide. the public's curiosity and excitement seemed to know no bounds as they speculated about the nature of your relationship.

cheol took to his instagram, posting a photo of the two of you holding hands outside the café with a quote from “amour,” the novel he had read previously.

— “ there will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning. “

—

end.

FORMULA 1

key: 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 - ❀║𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚞 - ✿║𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 - ☆║𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎 - ❁

KINKTOBER ‘24

f1 grid

𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢, 𝚜𝚎𝚝, 𝚜𝚞𝚣𝚞𝚔𝚊 𝚊𝚖 𝚒 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎? ❀ 𝟸 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

"𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞" ❁

"𝚒'𝚖 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝" ✿

"𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚍?" ✿

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚐𝚌 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝟷 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚍 ✿

"𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎?" ❁

"𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌?" ❁

𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢 ❁

𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢, 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢 ❁

"𝚋𝚊𝚎 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐" ✿

"𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍" ✿

"𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍" 𝚙𝚝 𝟸 ✿

"𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍?!" ❁

𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 ❁

𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ❁

"𝚖𝚖𝚖 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝' 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗' 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎" ❁

"𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚖!"

"𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚜?!" ❁ NEW

𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 ❁ NEW

"𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊....𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎?" - coming soon!

"𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚊𝚝" - coming soon!

lewis hamilton

"𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚜" ✿

𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔 + 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 ❀

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜 ✿

𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 ✿ ❀

"𝙿𝟷 𝙱𝙰𝙱𝚈" ☆ ❀

𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚎 - coming soon!

charles leclerc

𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚘 ❀

𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 ✿

𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 ❀

"𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎?!" ✿

𝚖𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚒! - coming soon!

carlos sainz

"𝚠𝚑𝚘'𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑" ✿

"𝚖𝚒 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚗̃𝚊" ❀

𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚎 ✿

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 ❀

max verstappen

𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜 ❀ NEW

oscar piastri

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚘 ❀

𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ☆ ❀

lando norris

𝟷𝚟𝟷

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

I will be a stranger when we meet again…

Ain’t No Rockstar: Part two

A/n: I finally got around to writing the second part!!!! This didn’t turn out the way I thought it would, then again I’m not sure how I wanted it to turn out. But now I think the series will be just a little bit longer because I think I know what I want now. Anyway, if you didn’t know, I’m thinking of expanding who I write for and if you have any ideas, I’m all ears.

*~~*~~*

Masterlist

Slash x Reader

Part one

Summary:  Y/n was nothing more than a stressed out makeup artist, at least that all she thought she was. It turns out that she was more than that to one member of the band she was working for. Not only would she have to navigate both his and her feelings, but she would also have to find the courage to seize what she wanted before it disappeared.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Language, fluff, grammar ( I didn’t feel like editing)

Fingers running over the strings, Y/n sucked in a breath as she stared out in front of her. It was late, nearly one in the morning, and she couldn’t sleep. She thought that pulling out her guitar and playing a few cords would help pass time, but it didn’t. Once the instrument was in her hands, she froze. Any tune, any melody, anything that she knew vanished when she tried to play it. 

It had been like that for weeks now. Of course, she didn’t have much time to pull out the guitar, between doing hair and listening to the band whine, there was just never enough time. The last time she had been able to pluck at the strings was when Slash walked in on her on the tour bus. But that had been weeks ago and she wasn’t sure what changed, what caused her to tense up when she tried to run her fingers along the strings.

“Fuck,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes and setting the guitar on the bed.

Y/n knew what was eating at her but she didn’t want to admit it. It was foolish and she knew that she shouldn’t have let it get to her, but she couldn’t help it. Looking in the mirror every day, she hated the person that stared back at her. It wasn’t her looks, though they had been weathered by tour, it was who she had become. 

Before ever hearing the name Guns n’ Roses, Y/n was a happy girl. Like most, she was young and trying to figure out where she belonged. She dreamed of being a singer, she was quite good and knew her way around a handful of instruments, but that wasn’t good enough. In L.A., mere talent didn’t get you anywhere because there were ten other people who could do the same thing. How could she compete with that? How could she compete with hundreds of other people that were either as good as her or better? Everyone was looking for their big break, making it hard for her to find her’s. 

So, that dream had to be put on the back burner. It was still boiling hot, waiting for someone to take care of it, but it wasn’t a priority. What she needed was money, not the belief that her time would come. Because what if it never did? 

So she settled. 

It seemed that was the worst thing she could ever do as she stared out the hotel window. She settled for shit. Being a makeup artist wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and she had the honor of finding that out the hard way. If only she had picked a different band, there were countless out there that needed a makeup artist, instead of the one she was stuck with.

“Maybe I’ll go for a walk.” She pushed herself off the bed and stumbled through the dark to find decent clothes to put on.

Y/n wandered out into the hallway and walked through the lobby to be met by the brisk night air. It bite at her cheeks, causing her to wrap her jacket tightly around herself. Walking out into the parking lot, she caught a glimpse of a figure leaning against the tour bus. It was hard to make up in the darkness, but she was sure she knew who it was.

Walking closer, the little light that the moon provided illuminated the figure enough to prove her right.

“Slash?” she asked hesitantly, just as there was every chance she was right there was also every chance that she was wrong.

The man, who had been gazing up at the stars, looked down at her. “Couldn’t sleep?” was his response.

Y/n shrugged, moving to stand beside him. Few stars could be seen due to light pollution, but the few that were visible were breathtaking.

“Why aren’t you out partying with the boys?” she asked after a few minutes of silence engulfed them.

Slash shook his head, running a hand through his hair to move it away from his face. “Not in the mood tonight. Plus, Axl’s been acting like an asshole all day.”

She nodded, understanding that all too well. Axl was the worst for her to deal with out of all the boys. He acted entitled all the time like everyone owed him something, and his outbursts were dangerous. There were many times when the band’s manager had to pay for the damages the frontman had done to a dressing room.

“Why are you out here? Don’t you like your beauty sleep?” the guitarist asked her, turning his attention back to the sky above.

Beauty sleep, please. She hadn’t had any of that in a long ass time. 

“It’s hard to get beauty sleep when you can’t seem to go to sleep,” she told him, leaning against the cold exterior of the bus.

He hummed in agreement, wondering what could keep her up at night. Slash knew she was unhappy with where she found herself - stuck with a bunch of wild boys. Though, Y/n never stated such a thing, her expressions always showed it. There was never joy in her eyes when she did a task, when she teased Duff’s hair or when she powdered Izzy’s face. Even her smiles never met her eyes. It saddened him that she was so miserable, no one deserved that.

“How’s the guitar going?” He knew that was about the only thing that made her happy. Just thinking back to the day he walked in on her on the bus brought a smile to his face. She looked in her element with a guitar nestled in her arms.

“It’s going, I guess.” Y/n looked at him to find that he was watching her fiddle with her hands. “Can I be honest with you?”

The man nodded, fully turning his body towards her to give her his undivided attention. 

 “I haven’t really been able to sleep in weeks. I’ve tried everything and I mean everything. Nothing works and I just lay awake at night starring at the ceiling.” She sighed, running a hand over her face. “I can’t even play the fucking guitar anymore. I literally sit for hours, fucking hours, with it and I can’t do anything. It’s frustrating!”

“You push yourself too much.”

“What?”

Slash laughed, “Y/n, you push yourself too much. I know you don’t enjoy doing our hair and makeup.” Her eyes went wide, she hadn’t known she made it that clear. “It’s alright, I wouldn’t want to either, we are a bunch of assholes. But you clearly are struggling with yourself. Hey, I’ve been there before, so I know it’s not easy.”

He was right, she was pushing herself too much. She was pushing to find something better, to dig herself out of the hole she’d fallen into. Sure, it wasn’t bad, it was great compared to where other people found themselves, but it wasn’t where she wanted to be. And if pushing herself mental to be better, to picture what she wanted, was how she found something better than so be it.

“Does it get better?” Y/n wondered. “Because right now I feel that pushing myself in any direction is better than not doing anything. It makes me feel like I’m getting somewhere.”

He sighed, that was a good question.

“It’s alright if it doesn’t, though,” she told him with a sad smile. “If I burn out over this than who cares, right?”

“I care.”

Y/n bite her lip, turning to the curly-haired musician. “What?”

They weren’t friends, she didn’t want to be friends with the band. They were a bunch of animals that weren’t worth her time, but then there was Slash. After he’d walked onto the bus that one day her views of him changed. In an instant, they were altered and she was unable to get him off her mind. But she would have never thought that he remotely thought about her in any way.

He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what to say. Should he confess his feels or brush it off that she was important to the band? Y/n was important, without her the band would look like a bunch of pigs. But he’d had feelings for her for a long time and didn’t know how or when to tell her about them. Slash was sure she wouldn’t return them, he’d seen the way she looked at him and the boys, there was no way he stood a chance.

“Can I be honest now?” 

Y/n nodded, hoping that he would explain.

“I care if you burn out, Y/n.” He looked her in the eye, stepping a little closer to her. “I care because I’ve liked you for a while and I just didn’t know how to tell you. I see how you look at us, you’re disgusted by all of us and I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but I care if something happens to you.”

Y/n looked into his deep brown eyes, trying to find the lie. She hoped he wasn’t just saying that, that it wasn’t just something people say to make others feel better. But as she looked her over, nothing changed, his statement didn’t waver. 

Her lips turned into a small smile, “What if I felt the same? What then?”

“Well, there’s plenty of things we can do then,” he told her, bring his hand up to cup her cheek. “But I think first we should get you to bed.”

The bags under her eyes were finally visible as the moon moved overhead and it was finally evident that she hadn’t been getting much sleep.

She nodded, leaning into his touch. “Sounds good to me.”

Throwing an arm over her shoulder, the two walked back into the hotel.

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

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NONBELIEVER | viktor

summary: you would think two zaunites would come together and change the world. but perhaps fate had other plans for the two...

word count: 5.7k

warning: no use of y/n, angst and ambiguous endings???

author's note: so act 3 really messed me up lol but enjoy some angsty viktor because why not? the gif is from this set!!

ACT I: MOB

Like Viktor, you lived and breathed the Undercity just not in the same way.

Your face used to be what artists would paint, even for a revolutionary.

But now it was stained with blood of your own. Beaten out of you mercilessly until cool shackles were clamped onto your hands and steel bars shielded you from the world. You have been in prison for some time now. Months, maybe a year? These days you’ve lost count. The only way you could tell how much time had passed was the growth of your hair. That was the price of being a revolutionary. That was the price of taking risks no one else would. Now you tasted blood and smelled old pipes. That was life in Stillwater Hold.

How you got here was the same story as any other inmate. You had planned to destroy a part of Piltover to make a point. To show that the people of the Undercity would not rest or become the ants under their boots. Most of your comrades had escaped from Enforcers, others were killed in the explosion, and then there was you. It was a sacrifice so that your comrades could have time to escape. And you’ve long accepted your fate.

That is until a certain professor decided to mess with fate.

After being forced out of your cell to meet this Professor Heimer—something, you weren’t really sure about. All you knew was that these Enforcers really liked to manhandle you especially roughly and took pleasure in seeing the black eye and blood on your teeth. That you were used to.

“Oh dear, could we please get her a towel at least?” The professor chided with a shake of his head. “Goodness, at least have her be presentable!”

Eventually, you got the rag, albeit it was thrown at you. After spitting on one of the Enforcer’s shoes, you wiped the blood and dirt from your face as the professor began speaking.

“Well, you certainly live up to your name. The Rebel Moon, is it? You may or may not have heard of me, but I am Professor Cecil. B. Heimerdinger and I are here as a Piltover Academy representative!”

A beat of silence went by. You realized then he was waiting for a response. You rolled your shoulder back and rubbed your aching jaw. “What are you meeting with me for?”

Professor Heimerdinger cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well….it seems you’ve left yourself a bit of a…reputation. I specifically admire your work on the bridge a year ago—marvelous work!” Sarcasm. You didn’t quite appreciate the condescension either. Seeing the unimpressed expression on your face, he quickly continued, “What I mean to get at is that we found some of your…erm, blueprints and I was surprised to see that most of them had been handwritten yourself, is that right?”

One of the Enforcers placed down a file filled with your old blueprints. They were mostly a copy of the Piltover Bridge, others were for weapons that your previous comrades built off of your drawings. Then there were the private drawings. The ones filled with naïve dreams of rebuilding the Undercity, changing it to a place where it was safe for everyone.

You snatched the files and hid those drawings in the file earning a quick yank from one of the Enforcers holding your chain. But after a subtle look from the professor, the chain loosened, and you frowned, anger boiling in your blood. “Where did you get this?”

Heimerdinger raised his hands, “I come in good faith, child, that I can promise.”

“I don’t particularly care about your promises—”

“Oh yes, very true,” The professor tapped the table thoughtfully. “But I do think you will like the proposition I have for you.”

Apparently, you had the potential talent of being an architect. One of the best in your generation it seemed—which somehow, he got from just looking at your old blueprints. And now he was convinced that you should join his Academy and that this was the perfect opportunity for you to change your life. To start over. To—

“Become one of you people?” You frowned and pushed the file away from you. “I’ll take my chances in here.”

 Heimerdinger, of course, was quite the persistent man.  “Imagine what you could do with your talents, Miss Moon. You’re still so young, you don’t have to waste your life behind bars. You can start anew!”

“I’m not wasting away in here.” You say simply, your shoulders are heavy and your face still sore. Carefully and slowly, you leaned back in the chair you were sitting in,  trying not to put too much stress on your recently dislocated arm. “That’s the thing with you Upsiders. You all don’t know anything about what it is to fight. And what it is to sacrifice just so your people can see the light of day. I don’t need your handouts. I’m doing just fine here. It’s where I belong.”

At that, he frowned. “I’m afraid I disagree with you, Miss Moon.” He pushed the file back toward you. “You have the chance to create something beautiful for your city, for your people. You have the chance to help them live. You have the chance to be something greater.”

Greater. You weren’t great. It was either great or nothing.

Somehow, Heimerdinger managed to strike a deal and get you out of Stillwater despite your rejection. For some reason, he was so determined to make you into something that you weren’t. And you were determined to fail. You were determined to prove him wrong. Even if he tried to impress you with the new uniform, the scenery, and the architect of Piltover—just to inspire you—you would not break.

If anything, seeing all this luxury only made you angrier. Even if they preached about you now being free with new chances, there were still shackles clamped on your wrists, imprinting themselves like a tattoo. To remind you that even if you’ve gotten this chance, there is always a chance for you to go back. And they wouldn’t hesitate to send you back once you mess up. Which was what you were counting on.

But it seemed that Heimerdinger was a lot more astute than you expected. The professor had you in his study during the day to work and look over some blueprints for new housing at the Academy. It left you with very little time to plan something reckless that would have you sent back to prison. Which, you guessed, was what Heimerdinger wanted. So, you entertained him and worked on the stupid blueprints, redesigning everything as fast as you could so you could get done faster and have more time on your hands.

Of course, that plan went quickly out the window when there came more demands for blueprints. Leaving you swapped and buried deep in work you didn’t even want. And yet, admittingly, it was a nice distraction. There was a small part of you—the child you—that enjoyed some of this. You would never admit that to Heimerdinger and yet you couldn’t put the pencil down. Eventually, you began receiving so many different requests for different projects that Heimerdinger got you a lab over your own, so all your stuff didn’t get overcrowded in his study.

Requests were filled with more designs or redesign for specific buildings they were hoping to update to catch up to the times—and then there were a few that had you designing weapons. The more you worked, the more of a reputation you began to build in the Academy. The new Undercity kid. Rebel Moon. Hephaestus. It was all ridiculous.

That’s when another fellow Undercity student finally found you.

“I fear those papers would catch on fire the more you glare at it.”

It was an accented voice that stirred you out of your spinning thoughts. You definitely had been glaring at the blueprints of a recent request for an apartment just a few walks from campus. You briefly glanced over your shoulder toward the man—he seemed a little bit older than you, walked with a cane, intrigued amber eyes, and a small, amused smile tugging at his lips.

“If you’re here for a request then just leave it over there with the rest.” You murmured before turning your attention back to the blueprints after pointing toward a desk in the corner stacked with many more requests.

There was a short breath before he spoke, “Ah, no, I actually already sent a request just a few weeks ago…I’m impressed by your work, the professor has a knack for spotting talent.”

You didn’t respond as you kept staring at the blueprints, twirling the pen in your hand, feeling the weight of the shackle around your wrist.

You heard him clear his throat, “So, you are from the Undercity?”

“What’s it to you?” You grunt before outlining.

“Well, truthfully, I didn’t expect the Academy to accept another one.”

At that, you swirl around in your seat and sized the man up carefully. He was pale, slightly hunched to hide his true height, neatly combed dark hair, and he had very fine cheekbones. “Another one? What, too many Zaunites in your perfect little school?”

“I would’ve thought they had enough once I joined.” He gave a knowing smile that made you pause and narrow your eyes.

“…You’re…from the Undercity?”

He moved toward you; the click of his cane echoed in the quiet room and offered his hand to you. “I’m Viktor. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you, Miss Moon.”

You stared at his hand for a moment, tilting your head, “Great things? That doesn’t sound right.”

Viktor chuckled, still holding his hand out. “Eh, some people might have a few opinions about you. Unfortunately, it made me all the keener to meet you in person.”

“Am I what you expected then?” You asked as you eventually shook his hand, your shackles clinking a bit.

With a small smile, he squeezed your hand, “No. Not at all.”

Your brow twitched as you studied him. He was delicate-looking. But his hand was a bit larger yet slender. They were calloused, just like yours yet warm compared to your coldness. It was then you realized that your hand was still in his and you pulled it away and turned back to your work.

“My name’s not ‘Miss Moon’ by the way.” You grunt as you refocus.

There was another soft chuckle and a click of his cane before he was gone. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder and stare at the doorway, a little bit too intrigued.

After that, you didn’t stop seeing Viktor. At least twice every week you’d get a request for him to polish some designs for his work. Sometimes he’d send his assistant, Sky, and sometimes he’d come in person himself.  At first, you weren’t entirely sure about him. But the fact that he was from the Undercity along with his assistant was slightly comforting. At least you weren’t alone here. Still, it was odd. Foreign.

“Have you ever gone out to see the finished product of your work?” Viktor asked you one day, deciding to linger even after delivering yet another request for something to do with a Hexcore.

“No.”

“Why?”

You frown and glance toward him. He was looking over some of your finished blueprints with a strange look accompanied by a smile. “I’m just not interested.”

Viktor blinked and met your eyes with a small frown. You didn’t say much more—truthfully there wasn’t much more to be said about it.

“Well, it’s one of the most beautiful designs I’ve ever seen. If that’s any consolation.”

You felt something in your chest at his words. Perhaps some of you did want to see the finished products of your design. And yet you were always rooted in this lab. In the dark under one lamp, barely seen by other students. Hephaestus.

Viktor tapped your workbench thoughtfully and hummed, “I’ll leave you to it, Miss Moon.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not my name.”

He laughed and left your lab.

On another day he came into your lab in quite a hurry. He left his requests as usual before rushing out. Only he left a ring behind. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glanced at the ring on the floor and toward your workbench before sighing. After grabbing the ring, you pushed up from your stool and left your lab. This was the first time you’ve walked around campus or went anywhere besides your lab or Heimerdinger’s study.

You asked around for Viktor’s lab until you stopped on a bridge, spotting something quite familiar.

It was the newly remodeled dorms. They glistened like gold in the sun. Build just like how you imagined them in your head. Just like how you outlined it on paper. Only in your dreams could you imagine what they would look like. But seeing it….It was real. And it was beautiful. And it came from your mind.

“Ah, Miss Moon, odd seeing you here!” Viktor approached you quite smugly from across the bridge. He glanced toward the dorms and gave a grin, “They just got done with it last week. What do you think, hmm?”

You narrow your eyes, “You scheming little eel.”

Viktor blinked almost too innocently, “I haven’t a clue what you mean—ah, I was looking for that.”

He gestured toward the ring in your hand. You gave it back to him while your eyes couldn’t help but draw back to the dorms. There was a tightness in your chest and a small ache behind your eyes.

“Glorious, isn’t it?” Viktor asked, his voice gentle as always.

You snapped out of your reserved awe and cleared your throat. “They did okay, I guess.”

With that, you darted back to your lab, the dorms imprinting themselves in your mind.

It became a routine at some point. Viktor began visiting your lab a little more often. At first, you didn’t notice this. But some days he’d come back to your lab a second time that day just to linger and see what else you were working on. At first, you thought you found it annoying. But as the days carried on and turned into weeks, you began to begrudgingly look forward to his visits.

“At least make yourself useful. Look over my work and see if there’s anything I missed.” You tried grunting when he leaned a little closer than usual to look at the blueprint you were working on.

“Hmm, I can try.” Viktor hummed as he flicked his eyes over the finished prints. “But they’re all probably perfect as usual.”

“Don’t you have some work to get to?”

“Not particularly, no.”

For some reason, he started leaving shit in your lab. Which would lead to you having to go and find him and return his stuff. Stuff like a screwdriver or some paperwork. Today it was a journal as you trudged through the campus and finally found his lab.

“Vik, I understand you’re a busy man, but you can’t keep leaving your shit in my area.” You huffed, throwing his journal onto his workbench, breaking him from his focus.

“Oh, Miss Moon,” He looked genuinely surprised to see you. “I wasn’t expecting you…”

“Yeah, right, so you didn’t leave this in my lab on purpose? You just happen to leave it there for me to find and bring to you?” You hummed, tilting your head as you got a good look at what he’s been working on—something a lot longer than what you’ve been doing. The Hexcore was what he called it. You didn’t understand it yourself—or cared much to learn about it. But you did notice some of your designs were used for his work.

“Mmm, you make me sound like a calculating stalker.” Viktor hummed as he got to his feet, joining your side. So, close his arm brushed against yours.

“Are you?” You quipped dryly while studying the Hexcore.

His slender fingers gently brush along your elbow. “I wouldn’t call myself a stalker, no. Are you interested?”

You glanced at him and realized he was talking about the Hexcore. “No. Just give me the why.”

Viktor hummed once more and leaned against the table, his fingers still brushing gently along your elbow. “For our home.” At that, you felt a tightness within your chest, your features falling slightly. Viktor, who had become very astute with your expression, gently grabbed your arm and squeezed it. “What’s with that face?”

You remember your life before the Academy. You remember your determination to prove Heimerdinger wrong. “Sometimes…I feel as if I’ve gotten too comfortable…too used to all of this….”

In the end, it was always your people above everything else. A revolutionary never dies, that was the simple truth.

“I think I’ve gotten too comfortable too.” Viktor frowned softly, tilting his head a bit to get a better look at your eyes when you averted your gaze. “And it’s all your fault, Miss Moon.”

You rolled your eyes only for him to lean forward and capture your lips with his. A lick of fire had been rekindled within you, breathing life into your soul, into your body. When he brought his hand to the back of your neck, when he practically cradled your face and brought you closer so he could deepen the kiss, when he touched you so gently as he always did, it was as if for a moment that heavy weight on your shoulders had been lifted. Leaving you weightless for even just a moment. That bit of relief was a breath of fresh oxygen in your lungs.

The heat from his lips moved from your mouth and down to your jaw and to the crook of your neck. Your back was pressed against the workbench as he practically clung and draped himself over you. And you let him. Even when he desperately wanted to feel you and kiss you all over, he was gentle. He always was.

The days didn’t change much except for whenever he was free, he’d head straight for your lab. Whether on a break or in a hurry, he’d always stop by and pepper your face with quiet kisses and touches before leaving for his lab. It was routine. You were getting comfortable. Comfortable in his warmth. In his gentle hold.

“Just stay,” Viktor murmured against your jaw as you examined some of his work with the Hexcore. “Your presence is better than that tea Jayce always makes.”

“I can’t, Heimerdinger wants to meet with me soon, and I got a bunch more new requests on my desk.” You hummed while looking through Viktor’s partner, Jayce’s, notes. “I think that Jayce guy requested some designs for a hammer of some kind—that’s been taking up most of my time as of lately so I can’t necessarily—”

“I know, I know,” Viktor rested his chin on your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment as he slumped against you.

His health had gotten worse, which was something you and everyone else noticed. It did worry you how much he was working lately without much sleep, but you quickly learned how much of a stubborn man he was—especially when it came to his work.

“What do you think Heimerdinger wants to meet with you about?” He voiced your constant question out loud.

“Don’t know.” You murmured, trying not to think too much about it—or his health right now. “Won’t know until I get there. Probably wants to send me back to Stillwater.”

At that, he pinched your waist, “Don’t joke like that.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Losing you is not funny to me.”

You placed Jayce’s scribbles down and wrapped your arms carefully around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder with a soft hum. He instantly relaxed in into your hold, but of course, you could tell his mind was still half Hexcore and half you at the moment. “Be sure to get some rest, okay?”

As usual, he gave a half-assed noise of slight agreement.

ACT II: REBEL MOON

It wasn’t long before Jayce Talis became the Man of Progress and Viktor became buried in his work. And then you were promoted. The lead architect of a very important project for Piltover. No longer the Rebel Moon but Hephaestus, Piltover’s future.

But.

But.

Everyone saw you as the kid saved from the Undercity and made a new. Everyone saw you as the future of their city. You were part of the progress of tomorrow. And you kept chasing Viktor, trying to keep up with his mind but he—he had become so work driven—so ambitious on the Hexcore dream that he had forgotten everything else.

You were angry. Angry at Piltover. Angry at what you’ve become. Angry at Viktor. This wasn’t the life you had chosen. All of this was envisioned for you. This wasn’t for you. You had nearly gotten so swept up in all the glamour and success that you had nearly forgotten—

No. You would never forget your people.

So, when your lab went up in smoke when you destroyed the project that you had been assigned to as lead architect, when the Enforcers tackled you to the ground and arrested you on the spot, when one of them grinned as if they’d been waiting—waiting for you to finally mess up, you knew right then that you would never be what Heimerdinger, what Viktor, or what anyone saw for you. You were a Zaunite after all. And a revolutionary. A rebel. Always.

It wasn’t long before you were placed back in Stillwater Hold. In the same cell. With the same shackles. You didn’t even get to tell Viktor goodbye. Would he have even realized it? Or perhaps, it was better off to leave him to his Hexcore dream. Perhaps, that was best. Yes.

But your mind was no longer settled with just staying in a cell and living out your sentence. One thing Piltover did give back to you was your fighting spirit. Rekindled your fire. And breathed life into your dead soul. And so, you weren’t quiet in the cell. You made noise. Cried out for war until the rest of the prisoners joined you. It wasn’t long before a riot broke out. The prisoners overpowered the guards, and you led them to escape.

The streets of Zaun were screaming for the Rebel Moon once more. Even now more so than ever when rumors began flying around about a rocket hitting Piltover, resulting in a few councilmembers’ deaths. Your thoughts wandered to Viktor, you wondered if he was okay, if he hadn’t killed himself working so hard. But your focus went back to your people. To the escaped prisoners as you all went into hiding underground. They followed you. Their chosen leader. You had no wish to be a leader, but you did want to be free and help your people.

ACT III: NONBELIEVER

Hiding in the Underground for months began to wear everyone down, even you—their supposed fearless leader. The sickness in the Undercity knew no bounds. Many of your people were getting sicker and dying as the days passed. You did your very best trying to supply and care for them—but you could only do so much.

That’s when you started hearing strange rumors about some healer in the Undercity. A herald or whatever that meant. At first, you didn’t think much of these rumors while being so focused on caring for your people.

Soon, sightings of strange people began appearing. Shouting about the Herald and how he could save their people. You were…wary of this. It almost seemed too good to be true. And you hadn’t seen these strange people yourself, so you thought it was all fake, stories made up to give the people false hope.

You came back from the small local market with more food than you could scrape up. Somehow, you’d have to figure out how to make it last throughout the month. But there were so many people. So many people are coming for refuge, and so many people in need of help.

“Are you the Rebel Moon?”

At the voice, you stop and glance over your shoulder, only to find no one there. Had you imagined it? Were you too wary after months of people coming to you and seeking refuge? The name Rebel Moon became a beacon of hope as much as it was for the name Jinx or that Herald.

Deciding it was just exhaustion messing with your head, you turn to continue forward, only to gasp and stop when you nearly ran into someone standing directly in front of you.

And they had appeared out of nowhere. It was a man that you didn’t know. His face void of any emotion except for a simple smile on his face, strange crystal-like fixtures embedded into his skin, while wearing white fabric far too clean to have come from the Undercity.

“You are Miss Moon, yes?” The man asked.

You stiffened. No one had called you that in a while. No one except… “Whose asking?”

The smile remained on the man’s face, “The Herald has been searching for you, Miss Moon. And he would like to speak with you.”

You gripped the basket of fruit and near stale bread in your hand and gritted your teeth, “I’m not interested, thanks.”

Just as you nudged past the man to continue down the crowded street, he spoke again. Only this time it wasn’t his voice coming from his mouth.

“You’re a hard woman to track, Miss Moon.”

It was like the air had been stolen from you as you whirled around to stare wide-eyed at the man with Viktor’s voice. The basket fell from your grasp, but the man was quick to catch it—somehow so fast—as he handed it back to you. “V-Vik?”

He nodded and slowly blinked, “I feared I wouldn’t see you again. You disappeared so suddenly, almost as if you weren’t there to begin with.” The man’s hand came up to gently brush his fingers along your jaw sending a sharp shiver down your spine. “Almost as if you never existed.”

You flinched almost and stepped back. Thoughts swirled within your mind as you tried to reel from the man speaking in Viktor’s voice. “What…what is this? How are you doing this?”

“I don’t want you to be frightened of me.” He instead said, taking another step forward but didn’t reach out to touch you again. “I only want to help you. I can save those people from that sickness.” You opened your mouth, ready to ask how he knew but stopped yourself which allowed him to continue, his voice gentle. “Only if you let me.”

“You’re the Herald.” It was mostly confirmation for yourself as you let the words slip out.

The man smiled softly, “I wish to see you again, Miss Moon. There is so much I wish to show you. But I will come to you first.”

Before you could ask what, he meant by that, the man’s voice returned, and Viktor’s voice was gone. “The Herald will come tomorrow, Miss Moon.”

And with that, watched this vessel of a man walk away. Leaving you feeling as if you were in some type of nightmare. No, alternate reality. It must’ve been some hallucination. Yes. That had to be it.

Only when the next day came, one of the children at your camp came running to you about the Herald being here, did you know right then and there that this was not a hallucination.

You watched as he entered your camp with those lifeless people that followed him.  Viktor had changed. Covered in indigo metallic skin, his hair slightly longer, his posture straighter yet still relying on a cane—or staff in this case.

Viktor’s eyes found yours almost instantly as if they were magnetically drawn to you. It looked like him.

“Miss Moon.” He hummed as he drew closer, staring at you with the same gentleness despite the distance in his expression.

It sounded like him.

You led him to the tent he would be staying in, watching the lifeless people tend to your people with baskets of fresh fruit and food. Viktor called your name in his accented voice, drawing your attention back to him, finding him already staring at you with an intense expression.

Even in this form, Viktor’s body couldn’t help but be pulled toward you. He let the staff rest while his hands slowly came up to trace and feel this human skin. Distantly he was all too aware of it. How he still reacted to you. With the remnants of Sky lingering in his mind, his thoughts had always wandered back to you. The image of your divine being. If he could still dream, it would’ve only been you he would’ve seen.

There was a strong pull that led him to you. Perhaps sensations of desperation. Even as he leaned his forehead against yours, feeling the little warmth coming from your body against his metallic yet pallid skin—he still wished to mold himself to you. To never stop touching you. To never let you slip from his fingers again

And then there was that look on your face. The furrow in your brow running heavy with exhaustion—you hadn’t slept. At that realization, his hand gently squeezed the side of your neck absently.

“You’re so quiet.” Viktor hummed finally, quietly for only you and him to hear in the stillness of the tent. His thumb traced your cheekbone. “You’re always keeping your thoughts from me.”

You tilted your head, trying to stir yourself out from the haze of his touch. “Are those…those people….are they the ones you ‘saved’?”

“Yet, so honest.” There was a hint of a smile on his face as he selfishly pulled your hand against his chest, keeping it there, selfishly. “Yes. They’re healed. No more…senseless pain. I can offer your people this peace. And you can come to stay at our new home. I think…you’d like it. You need peace.” He rubbed his thumb under your eye, making your shoulders grow heavier. “And rest.”

You couldn’t come up with a response. His lips linger on your mouth, and your jaw, and your neck. His fingers thread through your hair which had grown longer since the last time he had seen you. Gentle traces, cool breath fanning along your skin, his arms wrapping around your weathered and scarred form. Even your fingers traced his new skin. Refamiliarizing yourself with him.

But.

But.

It wasn’t him.

Even when his lips pressed gently yet hastily against yours, his body clinging to your human flesh, it still felt like a stranger. Familiar yet unfamiliar.

Confliction warred at your mind as you watched him move through the camp, your people looking at him as if he were a savior. As if the gods had sent him when it was only magic and remnants of the Hexcore embedded into his body. Your eyes couldn’t stop falling onto the lifeless people he ‘saved’. The ones that followed him without much thought. Would your people look like this? Void of themselves? No breath. No heartbeat?

But then you wanted Viktor. You wanted to go to this peaceful land he had created for himself and these people. You wanted to be with him. To be wrapped in his gentle embrace once more. To hear his voice whisper gently into your ear, easing the exhaustion from your muscles.

But.

But.

But.

Viktor reached out toward a boy. Sparks danced along his fingertips. The boy stared in awe. It was instant, your reaction.

Your hand grasped his wrist, stopping him. Viktor’s gaze met yours in an instant. You didn’t know what your face looked like, but it made Viktor falter.

Viktor saw your face and absolute dread filled him. A sense of it at least. It made his body go slack in your grasp—surrendering to you instantly. The glassiness of your gaze and that expression. He had never seen such a thing on your face. Fear. Desperation. Hurt. Sorrow. Grief.

He’d lost you. No. No. He’d…He’d get you back. He couldn’t let you go again…he couldn’t let…

What was this strange feeling in his chest?

You pulled him away from the boy and Viktor allowed himself to follow you. Gazes unwavering. But you forced the words out of your mouth. “This isn’t what I want for these people. This…this isn’t saving them…”

He couldn’t let you slip from his fingers.

You couldn’t let him take your people’s humanity.

He needed to keep you. To keep his humanity.

“Revolutions never rest.” Was your whisper as you released his wrist.

He called your name, but you forced yourself to turn your back on him.

“Show him out.” You murmur to one of the stronger men in your camp. You couldn’t turn back. You couldn’t look him in his eyes. If you did….

Then this conflict would disappear in an instant.

Viktor and his followers left without much problem. Maybe that hurts too.

The yearning for Viktor never left you and yet it wasn’t your job to bring him back. This Hexcore…all of it was beyond you. Maybe all of it wasn’t meant to be for you. Maybe…Maybe he wasn’t meant to be yours….

Days later you had heard the Herald had changed.

Days later the Herald was gone from this world.

Days later your exhaustion and grief wore on your shoulders.

Days later you’re trudging through the Undercity, more baskets filled with fruit in your arms.

Days later, you find a blue shard on the ground, somewhere near where Viktor’s utopia had been.

You picked it up from the ground, a remnant of what remained of Viktor and his work. You saw the manmade tents that were now abandoned, the builds similar to your past designs of what you wanted for the Undercity.

Silent tears fell from your cheeks as you gripped the shard. And you clutched the shard so tight in your hand that you could’ve sworn you felt a soft hum from it. Or maybe you were imagining things. Maybe you were too exhausted. Maybe you really did need rest.

And then.

You heard that accented voice.

“Miss Moon.”

Your breath hitched as the shard suddenly began to glow.

And Viktor’s voice came from it.

“May I show you something?”

And then. There was a bright blue flash.

OUR LOVE | Alt Vander X Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS - Fluff • Brief mention on near death • Season 2 Spoilers! •

PAIRING: Alt Universe Vander X Fem Reader

SUMMARY: ever since a certain day in your lives, life in Zaun has never been better. And although your adopted children might’ve grown and flown the nest, there’s still laughter at the bar

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

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Dawn had finally started to spill into Zaun, the sun glimmering off a soft morning dew of mist. Ever since Piltover and Zaun came together, life had become euphoric for all. Everyone united, the sons and daughters of Zaun no longer cut off from opportunities and fortune. Sure there was the odd spat between the two but nothing seemed to sever the bond between cities.

All seemingly possible because your kids stupidly nearly got themselves killed in Piltover. After receiving a tip from Ekko, your and Vander’s kids decided to sneak into a lavish Piltover apartment and attempt to burgle it for riches. Until for some unknown reason, an explosion nearly took the life of your oldest daughter Vi. It all but broke you and Vander to see her broken body. She had been so close to death that finally the Council decided their obliviousness to the Undercity’s problems had to come to an end.

And so it did. As Vi healed, so did Zaun. The air was cleaned. Health care provided. Chem-barons operations dismantled. Until finally the Zaun you grew up in became a thing of the past and the dream of a free Zaun became a reality.

Eventually the kids grew into adults, like baby birds leaving the nest and writing their own stories. Choosing their own fates. Powder and Ekko had been accepted into the academy furthering their brilliance for gadgets. Claggor turned his eye to further clearing the air in the fissures, using plants natural ability to produce oxygen. Mylo was still Mylo, happily jumping from one opportunity to the next but always there to help his brother with his projects. And Vi had followed in Vander’s footsteps, becoming a professional boxer. Along with starting a relationship with a councillors daughter. The bar that was once full of laughter became quiet. Though you and your husband were content. Just you and him. To do as you pleased.

At least for a year it was.

The two of you were sleeping together in bed; your bodies lying on your sides and intertwined with each other. Vander’s arms held you tightly to his body, one of his hands buried in your hair. Your own wrapped around his waist whilst you buried your face into his bare chest, feeling his soft snores tussle your hair at each exhale. Nothing could interrupt the peaceful bliss of sleep between you two. Until the door to your bedroom suddenly swung open.

“Dad! Come on, dad! You gotta get up!” A voice suddenly called, the two of you huffing out quietly when you felt the bed dip behind Vander. “Dad? Dad!”.

A slight snicker escaped your lips when you felt you husband shoulder being shoved by a tiny force, the child repeatedly calling for his fathers attention. “I think your son is awake,” you whispered into his chest. Vander’s arms tightened around your waist, burying his head further into the crown of your head.

“Before sunrise he’s your son,” he grumbled, voice still ripe with sleep.

“Dad! DAD!” The young lad yelped. Vander suddenly grunted out in shock and a small mixture of pain when your son hopped up and landed on his thigh, causing him to crack an eye open. “Come on, dad! You promised we’d decorate the bar!”. The boys brows furrowed in a very familia glare. One he had no doubted inherited from his father.

“Alright, alright. I’m up ya lil tike,” Vander groaned, yawning tiredly as the boy leaped off the bed and ran out the room in excitement. Of course, it was suddenly coming back to him. The academy that Ekko and Powder were studying at was hosting an inventions fair. Both teens excited beyond belief so you and Vander promised to host a party at the Last Drop. Win or lose, you were more than proud of the two teens. But at the same time, Vander also promised your now 7 year old son that he could help decorate the bar in the morning. Seems he took it a little too literally.

Your husband huffed out in exhaustion and rolled onto his back, running a hand down his face. “So much for sleeping in till 9”.

“Ha! Good luck with that,” you grinned, rolling with him to rest your chin on his chest. “He has the same amount of energy you had when you were that age”.

“Gods help us,” he huffed with a sleepy chuckle as his knuckles trailed down between your shoulder blades. “Why did I get you pregnant when all the kids had finally moved out?”.

“You were a little too excited that we finally had the house to ourselves … and because you couldn’t resist me in that dress,” you smirked cheekily, your finger drawing shapes over his peck; Vander going on to grunt out in annoyance at you reminder. “Now, come on! What was it you said that night? ‘Gods, love, you look gorgeous in that dress’ even though I was sweaty from running round like a headless chicken for Sevika’s birthday”.

He cocked a brow up at your impression, his hand gliding down to your waist to tug your closer. “Well, you did look gorgeous,” he replied.

“And we got a beautiful boy from it,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut in content as you rested your cheek back on his chest. “Just think, 11 more years until he hits 18 and then maybe moves out and we’ll have the bar back to ourselves again”.

“Hoorah,” Vander sarcastically cheered, finally raising himself to a sitting position and letting you slide off of him. After attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes he glanced back over to you to see you had snuggled back down into your pillow. “You’re not getting up?” He asked.

“He only asked for you, Papa bear,” you playfully said, a honeyed smile gracing your lips as your eyes remained shut and tugged the quilt back over your shoulder. “I’m not working till later”.

Vander rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I love you,” he impishly teased, leaning over you.

Your eye creeped open, gazing at him lovingly. “You better,” you hushed. Vander smiled, placing a gentle kiss to your lips which you happily accepted, your hand creeping out from under the covers to caress his cheek.

“Dad! Come on!” You suddenly heard your son call from the front room, causing the two of your to pull away with a sigh.

Vander huffed to himself and climbed out of bed. “11 more years,” he prayed for jokingly, feeling his joints click as he walked over to the wardrobe.

“And counting,” you giggled back.

Vander swiftly dressed himself for the day and left you with a kiss on the head. You could feel the pull of sleep lulling you back as you heard your sons joyous laughter along with your husbands. Their footsteps fading away when they walked up the stairs into the bar.

Things were certainly different now. Your children had futures brighter than you could’ve hoped for. Your husband and Silco’s relationship healed. And now the two of your were raising a new life together all over again. Seemed like a dream. One you certainly wouldn’t change for the world.

——————————————————————————

I wrote again. How bizarre. Eh, I can’t get this man out my head so I might as well do something productive with it. This was originally gonna be more angsty at the end but I’m not allergic to happiness unlike the Arcane writers so I decided to keep it fluffy instead. Hope y’all enjoyed.

Learning to Talk

Summary: so I was thinking of you could write one, where gf reader is in a sad phase, and bf Slash is not paying attention to it, because he is only thinking of drugs, booze, and partying, so during an argument she decides to take a lot of his drugs and she goes kind of crazy to shock him and to get his attention?? But can it be a happy end?

Requested: yes by anon

Warning: drugs, alcohol

Y/N had to admit as much as she loved her boyfriend Slash, he was driving her crazy and stressing her out with the drugs and alcohol. She had been somewhat okay with it at first thinking it was a once in a blue moon, but here recently it was getting more and more out of hand.

It didn’t help that Y/N had been feeling a little down the past few days. She didn’t really know the source of it, but she had been out of sorts. What sucked the most was Saul didn’t seem to care or notice. It made her want to scream in frustration, but she just huffed next to him as he was drinking whiskey.

“What’s the problem, Y/N?” Saul asked, looking over at her.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you can’t stay sober when it’s just you and me,” she said, waving a hand towards the bottle of Jack.

“I didn’t think it was such a big deal,” he argued.

“Saul, come on. Every time it’s just me and you, you have to be drunk or high. Am I not good enough or what?” she asked.

“You’re perfect. I don’t have, and I don’t have to. Just didn’t think that it was such a big deal,” he said. “I thought you knew that.”

“Well, you don’t even act like you notice me half the time,” she said.

Saul sighed heavily and threw his hands up. “What does that mean?”

Y/N stood up and glared down at him. “It means what it means, Saul. You have all kinds of girls throwing themselves at you, and I have seen how you look at them,” she yelled.

“I don’t look at them in any way,” Slash argued. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

Y/N groaned. “Do you still even care about me?”

“Of course, I do,” he said.

“Then why are you always getting drunk around me?” Y/N asked. “What if I did that to you?”

“I never thought that it was bothering you,” he said, looking at her shocked.

“Of course,” she yelled, running to their room. She had an idea that came from her determination to get him to realize what she did. She locked the door to their bedroom and heard him rushing after her.

Y/N went to his dresser, digging around until she found his stash. There were pills and unused needles and some things that she didn’t even know what it was. She pulled out the pills since she hated needles and wasn’t about to do that to herself.

“What are you doing?” Saul yelled through the door.

“A taste of what you do to me,” she shot back, furious.

She threw several of the pills in her mouth and swallowed as she heard Slash banging on the door. “Babe, let’s talk this out,” he said. The doorknob started to wiggle around.

She sunk down to the floor, afraid about what she just did. “I already took your pills,” she said.

“Puke them up,” he shouted.

It was long before she started to feel lightheaded and more than a little loopy. She screamed when the bedroom door flew off the hinges. Slash rushed towards, completely unfazed by the door.

He saw the rest of his drugs spilled out on the floor along with his socks and sleep shirts. “How many did you take?” he asked, trying to count the pills on the floor.

“Like four, maybe five,” she said. “I didn’t count them.”

Saul’s eyes widened. “Open your mouth,” he said.

In that moment, she didn’t think about disobeying him. She opened her mouth, and he shoved his fingers into the back of her throat, causing her to puke.

She vomited all over the floor and even on him a little. He didn’t seem to mind as he looked around in the vomit to see if the pills came up. He looked at her, and she let him trigger her gag reflex again. She puked again and one last pill came up.

He looked at her and picked her up, carrying her into the bathroom. Slash set her on the counter as he went to work on getting the bath ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked, looking at him.

“Giving you a bath. You’re gonna need it,” he said. “I’m also going to give some of those charcoal pills that I have.”

Y/N was shocked and extremely touched. “Why?”

“Because I love you even if you make me break down doors,” Saul said.

***

After a few days, Saul and Y/N had actually talked things through. They got to the root of the issue. Y/N had admitted that she felt that he was moving on because of all the groupies and the drugs.

Saul agreed to sober up and at the concerts whenever groupies were around he did his best to ignore them and prove that he was truly faithful to her like he had always been. He just never realized how seeing them trying to throw themselves at him made Y/N uncomfortable.

Y/N started to feel more comfortable opening up and actually talking through her own thoughts and not holding it all in. Especially after that scare with the pills. She could still remember how Saul watched her for two weeks, refusing to leave her like he was afraid that she was completely okay or that she was going to do it again.

Talking helped, and they did it so much that they learned more about each other than at the beginning of their relationship.

Me thinking about Namor all day

Eternal Love

Summary: Nobody loves as intensely as an Uchiha, and no Uchiha loves as intensely as Uchiha Madara. He will bring this world to its knees just to avenge her and to be reunited with her again, and as far as he’s concerned, he will succeed. Damn anyone who dares to get in his way.

Genre: Marriage!AU, Established Relationship!AU, Uchiha Couple!AU, Reanimation Jutsu!AU, Fluff!AU, Fluff-Smut!AU, Angst!AU (Barely Any Angst, Just Some Sprinkles - Happy Endings All Around)

Pairings: Uchiha Madara x Wife! Reader, Uchiha Madara x Uchiha! Reader

Warnings: Possessiveness/Protectiveness (Very Mild), Death and Mentions of Death (Mainly Flashbacks), Reanimation of the Dead, War/Conflict (No Matter the Era), Fighting/Mild Violence

Word Count: 8,303

Written: October 27th, 2023, Posted: November 30th, 2023

When you opened your eyes, you weren’t expecting to be greeted by a boy you didn’t recognize with red eyes that you just knew were the Sharingan.

You instinctively raised your guard and as soon as you could feel yourself get in full control of your body you activated your own Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan and took a step back, ready to counter if necessary. You had to be prepared, - your vision was still blurry from being woken up and everything was still slightly disorienting even with the Sharingan but you couldn’t let your opponent see that.

Once your vision started to come back into focus you took a quick look around your surroundings and saw Hashirama and Tobirama, standing alongside who you knew to be Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, and a blonde man you didn’t recognize. A little further behind were a few more people you also didn’t recognize, but the hand sign that the pale one held in place let you know that they were one to reanimate you.

You let go of the annoyance you felt at someone using that Jutsu and refocused, looking until your gaze found the boy from earlier whose red eyes you woke to. What you saw made you let out a small gasp. “… Izuna…? Is that you, Izuna?” You took a small step further, your brows furrowing, before you paused. “No, your Chakra is different. But there’s no denying, you look just like him.” You spoke with a small smile on your face, stepping a little closer. You knew it was mostly impossible to see Izuna in the world of the living again but this boy’s face gave you a large burst of optimism.

“Just as smart as I’ve read you to be, the great Uchiha Y/N. You’ve already read everyone’s Chakra signatures beforehand to be prepared in case of battle. What a brilliantly tactical move, as expected from your caliber.” You looked back towards the pale man with the long black hair, your anger growing again before you narrowed your eyes at the younger Senju brother.

“Tobirama,” your voice was calm but extremely firm, “I thought I told you never to use this Jutsu. I also recall telling you that this should never be documented. For this exact reason,” you emphasized. You created the Reanimation Jutsu. It was something you made in a dark time of your life that still hurt you to think about.

It was lovely in your ancestral Uchiha home, passed down from your family for as long as they could remember. It was the same house you lived in with your husband. You enjoyed the happiness that you felt every day, until it felt like it just started to go down from there. Your clan always at war with the Senju clan, the death of your brother-in-law that started your husband’s spiral, your husband’s defection from the village, and ultimately, his death. It broke you in more ways than you could explain.

When the Senju brothers came to your home to tell you of your husband’s death, you almost collapsed on the spot in grief and rage. The younger brother starts your husband’s path of revenge by killing your brother-in-law, and the older brother ends it along with your beloved husband’s life. They had officially taken everything from you.

It took a lot of time, and a lot of understanding, but you learned not to blame the Senju brothers for what had happened to Izuna and Madara. It hurt you every single day, but you just learned to live with it, burying yourself in your work and missions to compensate. It was on one of these days where you were working on a new Jutsu that you invented when Tobirama offered to join and help if you taught it to him. You allowed him as he did not ask you any questions, simply offering his presence in your mourning, never questioning your judgement or your decisions.

When you believed the Jutsu to be complete, you could tell immediately that it was not something that should be used. It was cruel in nature and you ultimately felt that it went against your morals and also the way of an honorable Kunoichi. It was a Jutsu that would not let the dead lay in final rest, instead waking them up in a cold and shrewd manner, letting the caster control the freedom of those that have crossed over to another world. It was unnatural, wrong.

You were desperate to bring back your husband, and you were willing to try anything. But this, you remember thinking as you saw your Jutsu at work, this is not how I want him back. And so, you made Tobirama swear to never record it and let this die with the both of you. Nobody needed to know that something like this was ever possible in this world. Clearly, he didn’t listen.

“I told you that that was a bad idea, Tobirama. Although, it is very good to see you, Y/N.” Hashirama let out a laugh as he patted your shoulder, letting Tobirama continue to sulk behind him as he tried to duck away from your glare, - just as intimidating as the rest of your clan, Tobirama rubbed at his neck.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t write down all of it, I made sure I kept it recorded as an incomplete Jutsu just for good measure. I completely removed a few of the sections that took me weeks to figure out. With what was left in the scrolls, nobody should’ve been able to correctly perform it.” Tobirama tried to alleviate his mistake but the pale one spoke again, drawing your eyes to him.

“It was not a hard Jutsu to make sense of, Lord Second.” He smiled in a way that put you on edge, like he was someone to always be wary of. You let it go for now, knowing you couldn’t do anything about it at this moment, and instead embraced Hashirama.

“No point dwelling on it now. It is good to see you, old friend. You as well, Tobirama,” you called out to the younger Senju who gave you a small smile. “Hiruzen, you’ve aged,” you jested as the man you knew to be the admirable Third Hokage let out a laugh.

“And you are just as beautiful as ever, Lady Y/N.” You gave him a gentle smile before turning to regard the man with the blonde hair and the blue eyes. He was new, a man you did not recognize, and yet you could see the trustworthiness in his eyes. He was a good man, you could tell. Not an ounce of malevolence in his Chakra at all.

“I apologize, but I do not recognize you.” You gave him the room to introduce himself.

“Ah!” The man exclaimed before turning around and pointing to the letters on his coat, “I am the Fourth Hokage, Lady Y/N. My name is Namikaze Minato, an honor to meet the Queen of the Uchiha clan in person.” He was a gentle soul. You smiled at him, giving him a gentle bow of your head to show you respected him. He seems like he made an honorable Hokage.

“Eh?!” You all turned your head to see a woman with bright red hair looking at you in shock. A woman of the Uzumaki clan, you assumed from her red-hot hair and her large levels of Chakra. “What do you mean the ‘Queen of the Uchiha clan’?!”

“She’s the legendary Kunoichi, Uchiha Y/N! How can you not tell, Karin?” It was another boy with white hair and sharp teeth that spoke. From Kirigakure, you could tell by his unique features.

“Suigestu is correct, Karin. And another very important fact: She is Uchiha Madara’s wife. Hence the title of Queen.” The Uchiha boy spoke.

“Wait, if you’re the Fourth,” Hashirama started, “then who’s the Fifth Hokage?”

“It’s your granddaughter, Princess Tsunade,” the pale one replied, making you huff out a laugh as Hashirama started sweating. You had good memories of that sweet girl. She was still extremely young at the time of yours and Tobirama’s passing, - far too young to probably have any recollection of you. However, you still appreciated the Senju brothers for treating you like family, and you’ve never forgotten the first moment you held Tsunade as Hashirama asked you to be her godmother. It was a title you took great pride in.

“Tsuna, huh?” Hashirama looked at you sheepishly as you chuckled. “She was my first grandchild, and she was Y/N’s goddaughter. So we both spoiled her rotten. She even picked up my gambling habit, hahahahaha!” You and Tobirama shook your head at the older Senju.

“Alright,” you called out, “enough for now. I have only two things to ask of you.” You took another step forward before pointing to the Uchiha in front of you. “Firstly, who is this boy?” You then dropped your hand back down before addressing everyone. “And secondly, why have you resurrected us?”

“I am Orochimaru, I am the one who resurrected all of you. This boy,” the pale one spoke as he referred to the Uchiha in front of you, “is Uchiha Sasuke. And he has a few questions for all of you.”

“Is that you, Sasuke?” Hiruzen took a step forward. So he’s from Hiruzen’s time, you figured it was during his second time as Hokage as he had quickly filled you in. He seemed extremely young, this Sasuke. You didn’t dwell on it too long when the boy started to ask you and the others questions about being a Shinobi, about being a part of a clan, a part of a village.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He’s seen a lot, and he’s been troubled by a lot. It’s obvious in not only the exhaustion in his eyes but also in the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan you see glowing, - this boy has suffered his whole life. You knew he wanted answers from not just the Hokages but also from you, because as he spoke he maintained clear eye contact with you the entire time. His gaze pleaded for reason, something to hear that would just make sense. For now though, you would let the past leaders of Konoha speak their pieces, - nobody can doubt their experience in these matters.

“Can we please hurry this up? The Fourth Shinobi War is going on and we do not have a lot of time. The sooner you answer Sasuke’s questions the sooner we can be on the move,” Orochimaru stepped up, making Tobirama lose his calm. As quick as always to anger…

“Why are we here answering meaningless questions when we are needed on the battlefield?!” He always needed Hashirama to keep him in check. And he still does, you mused as you watched him finally step away from the wall after a word from his older brother.

“Always conflict no matter what the era,” Hashirama sighed as you gave him an understanding smile. You gave a look back to the group.

“Which nations are fighting this war?” Everyone knew that you and Tobirama perished in the First Shinobi War, and while you were still reeling from the fact that three more happened after it, you also wanted to know the seriousness of it as well as its threat to the Land of Fire and Konohagakure.

“Actually, Lady Y/N…” Orochimaru seemed to hesitate, and he absolutely refused to look you in the eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him before moving them to the young Uchiha who held your gaze instead of cowering.

“Sasuke, tell me what is going on. Now,” you demanded. Sasuke let out a sigh before staring at you for a moment. He spoke calmly, but the news that he delivered was enough to make anyone cower in fear. Not you, though.

“Uchiha Madara,” Sasuke started, “has been revived by the Reanimation Jutsu, and he is currently trying to place the entire world under a Genjutsu of unimaginable magnitude.”

“Why?” Your question was a simple one. “Why is he trying to do this?”

“Uchiha Madara did not, in fact, die during his battle with Lord First.” Orochimaru spoke again. “Instead, he was seriously injured, and lived till the end of his days in hiding. He has had years to plan this battle.”

You looked at him in shock. All this time, he had been alive? Living in hiding? He was alone all this time. You looked down in sadness. We were supposed to grow old and grey together, and yet I die soon and he spends all his years by himself. All your time alive you were grieving what you thought to be the loss of your husband, lashing out and destroying, when instead you could have spent your time with him had you known.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was Hiruzen, a man who knew how your mind worked. “There was no way you could have known, my Lady.”

“He has waged a war against all five of the nations. They have come together to form the Shinobi Alliance and now try to fight together against Madara as we speak. He does all of this, for you, my Lady.” You looked at Orochimaru again before looking to Sasuke as if asking if it was true. Sasuke gave you a nod.

“Madara says that he wants to end all wars and all bloodshed. He calls his Genjutsu the Infinite Tsukuyomi, - to put the entire world in a permanent dream state. He is a man that grows angrier and more desperate. He misses you,” Orochimaru said. “And he’s willing to destroy the world for it.”

“His rage is from Y/N’s death in the First Shinobi War,” Hashirama figured out. “Since then, there have been two more that he has observed and so, this fourth one will be Madara’s supposed war to end all wars.”

“The Infinite Tsukuyomi is Madara’s plan to create a world of his own with only love and peace and happiness, as he explained it. He feels rage at the thought of a war being the reason that he lost his brother and then his wife. He believes he can create a better world this way, where everybody can have their own world within consisting of what makes them happiest.” Orochimaru’s explanation was brief and to the point. “His turning point was hearing of your death while he was in hiding, my Lady.”

You put a hand on each of the Senju brothers’ shoulders as you looked back at the boy you’ve come to know as Sasuke. “Alright, let’s tell him what he wants to know. I believe the sooner we explain, the sooner we can help in the frontlines,” you urged the Hokages to sit down beside you. “And the sooner I can see my husband,” you finished off with a smile, making everyone give you an exhausted look. You and Madara were always a love-sick couple, known by those who lived in your time and those who read about you in scrolls and records.

“Alright, we understand what it is you ask us of, young one.” Hashirama always made people feel open to speak their mind. “You want to know about what it means to be a Shinobi? A part of a clan? A part of a village? We’ll tell you.”

You listened quietly as Hiruzen and the two Senjus explained the village’s history to Sasuke, and you watched the changes in Sasuke’s expressions. It also gave you a chance to listen to what has happened since your own passing as well. The stories you heard made you sad. Uchiha Itachi, the man who sacrificed his family and his life for Konohagakure. For Konohagakure and for his little brother. An admirable Shinobi, you agreed. As was the Fourth Hokage and his own wife, giving their lives for the village.

It hurt to know that the boy you saw in front of you was the last of your clan, - an entire bloodline just wiped out. But you respected Itachi for doing the work nobody else was willing to do. He took the fall for the Elders of the village that were too cowardly to even admit to their own actions and decisions. In a way, Itachi reminded you of Madara, willing to sacrifice for his younger brother. Always protecting him, making sure he was safe within the village, helping him grow stronger, trying to lead him on the right path.

You continued to simply listen as Hashirama and Tobirama told Sasuke of the history between the Uchiha and the Senju. He spoke of your husband with the same fondness in his heart that he held for him all those years ago. But when the Hokages were finished, Sasuke sat in silence. He then slowly stood, letting out a sigh before looking at you.

“And what of you, Lady Y/N? You are the only one who has not yet spoken a word to me. I want to hear your opinion.” Sasuke spoke plainly.

“I have seen you listen intently to the opinions of honorable Hokages through the generations.” You spoke as you also started to stand, “What would you do with mine? I was a Kunoichi of Konoha, and I was a wife to a loving man,” you stated with pride making the two you now knew by the names of Karin and Suigetsu in the back of the room look at you with shock. “My experiences are limited to my life, not to the ones of others. I do not see what you would benefit from hearing my thoughts in this situation.”

“You are an Uchiha from legend, from stories that I would hear from my brother very often. You understand love, happiness, the feeling of contentment. You understand desperation, anger, grief, the loss of a loved one. You must have felt pain like mine when you heard of your husband’s death, especially when it came at the hands of Lord First. I want to know what made you stay. Like my brother, you’ve given for the village in blood, and yet you stayed loyal to the very same village until your dying breath. You are drastically stronger than me. You could beat me even without using either of your hands, which means you had the ability to bring the village down if you really wanted to, but you didn’t do it.” You looked at him with a gentle smile before walking up to him and placing a hand on his cheek. He simply stayed staring into your eyes, now black as his without the Sharingan.

“My husband is angry, - broken, hurt. He has lost much in his life. This village has brought me happiness. Hashirama and Tobirama are people I consider my closest friends, and Sarutobi was a brilliant student. All of these make up a village and a Shinobi. Love, bonds, sacrifice, dedication. My husband felt all of these up until he felt like he was cast away by them.” You gently spoke. “I felt the support of my bonds when I was at my lowest, grieving and in rage at Madara being gone.” You turned to look at your friends. “Hashirama and Tobirama may have fought against my husband, but they stood by me when I was alone. I have fought for this village and given it everything that I have. I am nothing without it. But even if I could go back, I would not change that. I found the love of my life in Konoha, and I was able to marry him and lead a happy life until his death. Or rather, what I thought to be his death. I also remember thinking about how I was protecting him with every mission I would take on, no matter how little. Madara has always watched over me, always kept me safe, and it made me happy that by keeping Konoha safe, I was keeping my beloved safe as well, whether or not he ever really needed my protection,” you finished off with a nostalgic laugh.

Sasuke stared at you for a few moments, before suddenly, for the first time since seeing him a couple of hours ago, you saw him give you a small smile. It was heartwarming to see, especially when he looked like the kind of person who rarely smiles. It showed you he understood your words. He could relate. He understood keeping someone’s legacy alive in your heart. He could see it. You knew he could.

“I won’t let what Itachi stood for go to waste. I won’t let Konoha waste away. We’re going to the battlefield.” Sasuke’s eyes shone with determination. A determined and motivated Uchiha is as dangerous to his opponent as he is unstoppable, you knew, and you were proud of this young boy who has learned to work through his conflicts. Your clan was known for burying their emotions deep down as an act of what they thought to be concealing their weaknesses. However in reality, they only make themselves weaker, instead. They forget that their Sharingans are a window into their heart. It reflects the soul and that is how it is not only awakened, but also grown into higher levels, - even the Eternal Mangekyou. They forget what their eyes represent once they awaken their full potential.

“Now we’re talking!” Hashirama was excited. And as you all jumped through the air, you heard him again. “It may sound odd, but I am excited to see my old friend!” Tobirama sighed at his older brothers words while you smiled back at him.

“I understand. It has been decades since I’ve seen my love. I miss him,” you said with a fond smile while the one you’ve come to know as Suigetsu looked at you like you were crazy.

“Forgive me, Lady Y/N, but you talk about him like you guys are love-sick puppies at the Ninja Academy!” Suigetsu let out a breath in absolute disbelief while Tobirama chuckled.

“Madara may be dangerous, and he may be frightening to most. However, seeing him interact with Y/N puts him in a rare perspective that not many have witnessed first hand. This is something even I cannot deny.” Suigetsu shook his head at the Second Hokage’s words and decided that he wouldn’t get it, ever.

Meanwhile, Naruto was letting Sakura heal him when he saw two people land right in front of him. He let out a gasp as he saw his father and a woman. He couldn’t help but stare at her. She was gorgeous, - black hair, black eyes, dressed like a true warrior, proudly wearing the Uchiha symbol- wait what?

He stared in shock as she shared a laugh with his father. “Not bad, Lord Fourth, but I think I beat you by just that little second!” And he couldn’t believe his eyes at his father poking fun back at her.

“Ah, I must be getting old, my Lady.” What?! ‘My Lady?!’ Naruto stayed looking back and forth at the two interacting until his father turned around to regard him. “Naruto! Hope we’re not too late!”

“Nevermind that, Dad! Who is this? Why is she wearing the Uchiha symbol? Is there another Uchiha person alive?! Again?! Why’re you being so formal with her!?!” Naruto’s mind was going faster than his mouth could keep up and it took Sakura giving him a solid knock on the head to make him stop.

“Geez, Naruto! That’s Uchiha Y/N,” she explained as she continued healing him. “She’s known as the Queen of the Uchiha clan, she’s from way before your dad was Hokage. She’s Uchiha Madara’s wife!” That made Naruto freak out again. Why was Sakura so calm about this? Wasn’t Madara’s wife a bad factor to add to this war? Madara was bad enough as it is, and he didn’t want to know what fighting the woman called the Queen of the Uchiha clan would also entail.

“This is why you pay attention during Iruka Sensei’s lectures,” Sakura sighed out before explaining yours and Madara’s past to Naruto as quickly as she could.

As Naruto listened to the end of Sakura’s explanation, he saw the Third Hokage land carefully on his feet. “You’re both as fast as ever, Minato, Lady Y/N.” He then saw who he knew to be the Senju brothers Hashirama and Tobirama also land.

“We never could beat you, Y/N!” Hashirama laughed out as he stood next to his younger brother. Naruto then froze as Y/N turned to regard him, giving him one of the kindest smiles he’s ever seen directed at him in his life, and he knew that that kind of genuineness cannot be faked. You were trustworthy.

“Don’t worry,” you spoke, “your friend is also on his way.” And Naruto closed his eyes. Sasuke. He must have something to do with your reanimation, he knew.

“Hey, um, big sister Y/N?” Naruto called out, making you look at him in shock, a familiar warmth curling into your chest. Nobody had called you that since Izuna, and it brought an involuntary smile to your lips. You gave a nod to encourage him to continue. “Not that I’m doubting you or anything, big sister, but uh, how exactly do you plan on stopping your extremely crazy and concerningly bloodthirsty husband?” You let out a loud laugh at his words while his father panicked at the way he was addressing Madara in front of you. This kid has no filter - doesn’t even know what a filter is - , and you absolutely loved it. He spoke to you as honestly as if you were really his big sister and it made you adore him. If this was Sasuke’s closest friend, then he has chosen well, they are both perfectly balanced halves, like Yin and Yang.

“You have a lovely son, Lord Fourth.” You told a worried Minato before turning back to the blond kid in front of you. “And Naruto, your father told me you wanted to become Hokage. I think- No, I know you will succeed. You have good friends,” you said as you looked around, “and you have a good heart. Not even the sky is your limit, Ninja of Konoha.”

You can tell this kid wears his heart on his sleeve, and so you could have anticipated the hug. What you couldn’t have anticipated was for him to run forward and squeeze whatever temporary life was flowing through you out of your lungs in his hug. Now this was one life-changing hug.

“What on earth did I miss?” You turned to see Sasuke staring at you in amazement. It seems you were a bit of a crowd favourite already, - all of his past comrades from Konoha were gathered around you, looking at you in awe or wonder, sometimes both. He assumes someone, most probably Sakura, must have explained your past and your goals. The initial reaction to hearing your lengthy title and name is always fear, until they have a conversation with you.

“Sasuke!” Sakura shouting out his name had you a little surprised, but as you watched their exchange you could see that the Kunoichi was enamored with him. You left Sasuke and Naruto to their conversation with their friends while you walked over to your own, quickly gauging the battlefield and all of the warriors, - it was an absolute mess. A man by the name of Hatake Kakashi was quick to bring you and the Hokages up to speed on everything that’s happened, including the involvement of another Uchiha by the name of Obito, Lord Fourth’s student.

“As far as I know, however, Obito’s actions are influenced by Madara,” Kakashi explained as he recalled to you and the others what Obito had told him of his survival in a past accident.

“I’m going to go towards the back, I want a larger view of this mess. Just give me a few moments,” you said as you jumped away. Hashirama gave you a quick thumbs up to acknowledge your words as they continued to listen to Kakashi’s information, - the Senju brothers have seen you do this often.

You could see well from your initial spot, but the terrain was uneven and you always worked better once you got a full view of your surroundings with your Sharingan. It gave you better mobility and helped you avoid any hesitation during combat. If you always knew where to step and what direction to move in, you didn’t even have to take your eyes off of the enemy.

This was actually a tactic that you also showed your husband during one of your sparring sessions together. You both would always choose new locations and alternate in memorizing the location. If it was Madara’s turn, you wouldn’t memorize that day’s terrain choice, and vice versa. This helped you both see the difference in combat efficiency. Perhaps that has been far too effective against the Shinobi Alliance, you thought sheepishly as you recalled Kakashi’s words of always seeing Madara have the higher ground in confrontations, looking down on everyone.

As you were letting your eyes memorize the terrain, your heart stopped at a yell you heard. It’s been decades since you’ve heard that voice. And to hear it again in person instead of in your dreams was a breathtaking feeling that you simply could not define, even if it wasn’t directed at you, specifically.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Hashirama!” He called out, and you heard the excitement in his voice. It brought a smile to your face, - those two were always inseparable, it’s nice to see even that cannot change.

Meanwhile, Hashirama looked up to see Madara staring down at him with anticipation. He let out a sigh, is this the time she chooses to disappear? Tobirama, as if reading his brother’s mind, also sighed out. Your timing is impeccable, Y/N.

Where is that woman when you need her? The Senju brothers were really trying to avoid a full out battle with Madara at this point when it was so unnecessary.

Hashirama pointed his finger at Madara as he called out, “I’ll deal with you later!” And the older Senju brother watched as Madara visibly deflated a little in disappointment before patiently sitting down, shaking his head as he did. Some things never change. Hashirama then turned around, pointing his finger at the Ten-Tailed Beast, “First, I have to stop the Ten-Tails, because it’s charging right at us!”

“Where the hell did big sister go?!” Naruto was absolutely stressed knowing the one person who could help stop this now was not here for some godforsaken reason. “She’s the only person who’s going to have any actual effect on Uchiha Madara and she’s just gone?!”

“Stay calm, Naruto,” Minato spoke calmly, “we just have to keep the Ten-Tails occupied. Once she returns we’ll have the extra power and also the weapon to reason with Madara.” He then turned and gave a smile to his son and his son’s friends. “Don’t worry. If she is anything like what I’ve read about her, then Uchiha Madara will listen. So far, she has more than proven herself, and I have faith that she can help. I have also heard from the First and Second Hokages that she is the only human whose opinion and emotions Madara genuinely values.”

“Now, everyone!” Tobirama spoke, “Just hold off until she returns! Keep the Ten-Tails at bay, and do not risk yourself in attempting to counter any of its moves. We simply hold it off for as long as needed!”

Sasuke and Naruto were already off atop their summonings as Sakura stayed behind with her own summoning to heal those that were injured in the area. The rest of their comrades also dispersed to help contain the situation while Madara simply sat atop the cliff, observing their movements. He didn’t bother listening to whatever they discussed, dismissing it as futile attempts to strategize. Naturally, it would fail against me, Madara scoffed out a quiet laugh.

Hashirama thought this would be a good time for him and his fellow Hokages to go and have some semblance of a civil conversation with his old friend while they kept the situation at bay. “Madara!” He called out as him and his comrades landed on the cliff top behind the seated Uchiha.

“Oh? Ready to face me now, Hashirama?” Madara could feel his blood pumping. He’s been dying for a rematch with the Senju man.

“Actually, I wanted to talk. My friend, there is nothing to gain from this.” Hashirama hoped he’d see reason.

“There is everything to gain from this.” Madara countered his friend easily. “In the Infinite Tsukuyomi, there will be happiness. There will be peace. Everyone can love and be loved. How is this reality better than what I am offering?” Madara’s mind was clear.

“It would all still be a fake reality, Madara. None of your experiences would be real. The peace wouldn’t be real. The love wouldn’t be genuine. The happiness? It would be fake!” Hashirama wanted to get through somehow.

Madara was getting frustrated. “At least there would be happiness! At least there would be something worth living for within the Tsukuyomi.”

“There are reasons worth living for in the real world. You fight for them, and you hold on to it. That’s what makes it worth the suffering. There is happiness and love awaiting everyone in this world, Madara, and I thought you would understand that better than anyone else! Everyone that has walked this earth was given something worth living for, and it kept them going till the end of their days. Everyone deserves to experience the real world as it is with all of its ups and downs. That’s what makes it genuine. That’s what gives life value.” Hashirama hoped his friend would understand.

“I had a reason. I had love, happiness. I had it…” Madara looked down for a moment before looking back up again, eyes full of red-hot rage. “And she was taken from me!” He began shouting. “You took her from me! All of you!” He pointed at them, “You took my one happiness and my one love! First, I was separated from her and then you made sure she wasn’t even in the same plane of existence as me! She died fighting for these real experiences of yours. Anything in this world, including these values you preach about, Hashirama, are absolutely worthless without her. She was my only reason. The only one!” The Uchiha took a deep breath, “I refuse to live in any world or any reality without my wife, never again. And any world that has hurt my wife should simply not exist.” He activated his Susano’o, getting ready to fight, - he wouldn’t hear another word of this. He would not listen to another word defending this monstrosity of a world that took his beloved wife from him. His soulmate.

“Are you happy, elder brother?” Tobirama took a few steps back, “Now you’ve made him angry. The whole point of this was to stall him!”

“I know, Tobirama!” Hashirama let out a quiet curse as he prepared his hands for a countering Jutsu.

“Clearly you don’t know. He doesn’t seem to be very stalled from your tactics, elder brother!” Tobirama couldn’t stop the sarcasm that came flying out of his mouth in his current stress.

“Tobirama, now is absolutely not the time for this!” Hashirama backed away some more as Madara’s Susano’o pulled its sword out of the sheath and got into an offensive stance.

They didn’t think a conversation about love and happiness could go so bad so quickly. But then again, they should have anticipated it considering who it was they were having this conversation with.

Nobody loves as intensely as an Uchiha, Hashirama remembered saying to Sasuke. And no Uchiha has loved or will love as intensely as Uchiha Madara loves his wife. He’ll burn the world and bring her the ashes.

The Hokages braced themselves as Madara’s Susano’o charged forward, sword raised and about to come down for the strike, when suddenly, their surroundings went deathly quiet.

The Hokages breathed out a sigh of quick relief. Tobirama huffed, “By the Gods, Y/N! You couldn’t have cut it any closer if you tried!”

You don’t spare a glance back at the Hokages, though, simply keeping your eyes in front of you. You couldn’t help the smile building on your lips as you saw your husband. He was just as handsome as the last day you saw him, - with his Sharingan and his long hair and his eyes full of love for you. He always managed to make you feel loved. He was doing all of this, for you. Of course, it was questionable, but he was doing it for you. “My love,” you started, hearing yourself choking up. You couldn’t finish your sentence as you saw the shock finally leave your husband.

Madara couldn’t believe his eyes. His wife was here, in front of him, reanimated. He never thought he would see her again, and if he was ever reunited with her in the afterlife, it’s not like they would have any recollection of that in the present living moment, either. And so to see her now, he could do nothing but thank every entity he could think of that she created this Jutsu, regardless of the circumstances in which she did. He was not by her side in her dying breath and she wasn’t there with him as he grew old and frail, - the biggest regrets that Madara can think of from his time alive. “Y/N.” He released his Susano’o, taking long strides towards his wife.

You simply stood in place, still taking him in. You watched his large frame as he walked towards you, and you felt your breath leave you at the intensity with which he grabbed you. He held you close, a hand around your shoulders and another over the back of your head, as if trying to make sure you couldn’t go anywhere. You reached and wrapped arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest and letting a sob finally wrack through your body, finally feeling safe and like you belonged. You finally felt like you could let go and the one person your trusted would be there to catch you, - the only person you’ve ever trusted with your soul, and the only person you will ever trust.

“Y/N,” you closed your eyes as you heard your name fall from his lips, “my Y/N.” His words felt like velvet on your skin and like a melody through your ears.

“Madara,” you breathed out, making the Uchiha man let out a hum. He had been aching to hear your voice for decades. It had been so long since he’d heard you call out his name and to hear it again made him want to break down right there. “You left me,” he heard you whisper. You sounded so upset, and he felt his heart ache and fall apart all over again. Such simple words, but so strong in their meaning. “You left me alone.”

“My darling wife,” he gripped you tighter. “I am so, so sorry. I have no excuse for my actions. I was blind and a fool to have ever thought to leave you, because that is all one must be to ever think to let go of you,” he stated honestly. These were words from his core, ones he has never spoken aloud until now but has always had running in his head. He meant every bit of it. “I was… blinded. Blinded by the hate I felt, the need to avenge Izuna… All of it came to head at some point that I struggle to even remember now. And when I heard of your death, I lost all reason. All I could think of was the ways in which I could’ve kept you safe. I thought the only way to do so now would be to create a new world. A world in which we could be together again, a world in which you couldn’t get hurt. And you would never be hurt because this world would be ours to command as we so wished.” You sighed out gently before pulling away to cup his face in your hands. You gave your husband a smile, leaning to kiss his lips for a moment before resting your forehead against his.

“You never let your soul rest, even in death.” You sighed and you pressed your lips to his cheek. “My husband, my love.” You heard him hum gently. “All I ever needed was you. I don’t need the world because that is what you are to me. You are my world- No, my universe.”

Madara pulled away to look into your eyes, and you saw a vulnerable man right then, - the same one that had always bore his emotions freely to you and only you. He always let you see into his heart. And now, you saw a man who had mourned for his wife for decades. “You never did find peace, even in death. And it was my fault. If it weren’t for that, we could’ve been together all this time. I’m so sorry,” you said softly as you planted another kiss on his lips, “I’m so sorry for causing you so much pain,” you continued apologizing as Madara shook his head at you, a tear of his own falling.

“No,” he stopped you, grabbing your head with both hands to place a kiss on your forehead. “Never tell me it is your fault. I will not accept it. I chose this path, Y/N. I chose to stay in this world. I was blinded by rage and did not see what could have been - you and me, finally together, in eternity. Without restraints.” He held you close again, wrapping his arms around you as he tight as he could, and you did the same.

Naruto watched from a little further away, jaw on the floor, - not too different from the rest of the Shinobi that were present. He turned to Sasuke who was also unable to look away from the scene that seemed to come straight from a fever dream.

“Oi, Sasuke,” he nudged his friend, “Is this all we needed to do? We assembled the entire Shinobi world, formed an alliance, and suffered an unimaginable amount of casualties. All we needed to do,” he paused again, “this whole time, was get her?!” Sasuke’s eyes flashed at his extremely oblivious and extremely loud friend at both the noise level of his sentence and his way of addressing the Queen of the Uchiha clan. He tried to get him to stop when he saw Madara’s head whip around to regard the person who had addressed his wife so brazenly. Too late, Sasuke clenched his jaw.

It took Sasuke every bit of Chakra, - and the full extent of his Sharingan’s abilities, - to move as fast as he did in that moment, stepping in front of Naruto and summoning an arm of his Susano’o to block Madara’s fast approach towards the Uzumaki boy. Naruto let out a small scream as he stumbled back a bit, watching with fear in his eyes as Madara’s raging Sharingan stared into his very soul.

“Idiot,” Sasuke quietly bit out, “is there a single day where you paid attention at the Academy?”

“H-huh?” Naruto turned his head towards Sasuke but his eyes stayed watching the past head of the Uchiha clan that hasn’t backed down just yet. Or gotten far enough away for me to feel comfortable, Naruto thought to himself as he watched warily.

“You will address her, with the amount of respect that she deserves,” Madara ground out. “That woman is Uchiha Y/N. She is Queen of the Uchiha Clan, the Strongest Kunoichi in the Land of Fire, and my wife.”

“He did not know,” Sasuke ground out. The young Uchiha was at his wit’s end. Uchiha Madara was strict when it came to people respecting the Queen of the Uchiha clan. He demanded respect of everyone whether they were directly or indirectly addressing or mentioning her. It irked him that even Tobirama was as casual as he was with her. As far as Madara was concerned, the only person who could address Uchiha Y/N lovingly and without titles was him. “Everyone else would slander her name for they do not understand her worth,” Madara had once said. “They do not see the diamond that she is and I will make sure that they at least recognize that she is a treasure.”

“Madara,” you chastised as you walked towards him. “He’s a sweet boy, he means no harm. He doesn’t need to call me by my title because of who I once was. There are only two titles that have come with me past my life - Kunoichi of Konohagakure, and wife to an honorable man. That is all. Just a Kunoichi, and just a wife.” You spoke as wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your head on his chest. You felt your husband wrap his arms around you again and felt as he began to slowly relax. “There will be those stronger than me.”

“Not in my heart. I know you are the strongest there will ever be.” You let out a little laugh as you heard the stubbornness in your husband’s voice.

“I adore you,” you spoke to him with a smile, “But I am not too upset by what future awaits our clan.” You placed a hand on his cheek before turning to look at Sasuke. “He is a strong boy, with an honorable heart. Named after Hiruzen’s father. And while I believe you to always be the head of the clan in my heart,” you heard your husband let out a light laugh, “Sasuke will be a good leader.” The young boy gently bowed his head at you. “And I believe it will not be long before there are new heirs to the Uchiha clan, and the bloodline is restored,” you spoke with a grin.

Sasuke’s eyes slightly widened at you, before he quickly turned his head away and to the side. “Hn.” The noise he made caused you to let out a small laugh. A typical response from an Uchiha in a moment of speechlessness. And no matter how hard he tried, Sasuke would never be able to hide the pink in his cheeks from you.

“The clan is in capable hands,” you spoke as you turned and found Tsunade standing next to her grandfather and great uncle, “and so is the village, it seems.” Tsunade smiled at you, and you saw vague recognition in her eyes.

“I don’t remember you well, but I grew up hearing stories of you and how you were always by my side while you were alive. I’m proud to have such an amazing Kunoichi as my godmother.” You smiled at her and laid your head on your husband’s chest, feeling him bring a hand up to hold the back of your neck.

“Indeed, I must admit that the village is in respectable hands. She is… a strong woman.” Tsunade seemed shocked to hear words of praise coming from Madara’s mouth, but she was happy to hear it, regardless. She has certainly inherited Hashirama’s Will of Fire, Madara has only seen it so strong in his wife’s eyes until now. And she probably did inherit it from her godmother, Madara’s pride would not allow him to give Hashirama credit for something over his beloved.

You turned back to your husband, taking in a deep breath. “Well, my love? Shall we?” You saw Madara let out a long sigh before tightening his arms around you.

“Perhaps we are done here. I trust you lot can handle Obito?” Hatake Kakashi and his team nodded at Madara’s question. “Good,” your husband hummed. “I think I have some catching up to do with my wife. So much time lost… ” He ran a hand across your cheek.

You smiled, “Luckily, we have eternity to make it up.” You reached up and he met you halfway as he bent his neck, both of you joining your lips together in a kiss. The Senju brothers looked over at Orochimaru and gave him a nod to go ahead with releasing the Reanimation, and he did so quietly.

You could vaguely hear Naruto saying goodbye to his father. You could also make out the voices of the other Hokages talking to their own loved ones, giving them parting words of advice, confidence, pride, and love, - all of which you let fade into the background, focusing solely on your husband in front of you. You had him now, and you absolutely will not let go. You pressed your lips harder against his and felt as he let out a small moan, gripping you tighter to him. You would make sure that this next time you woke again in the after-life, he would be right beside you. You both can finally move on, together and in peace, having nothing to concern yourself with except each other. No war, no conflict, no clans, no rivalry, just a husband and wife finally being able to reach paradise together.

“Together, this time,” you spoke against his lips, feeling your body starting to fade.

“Together,” Madara whispered back to you.

And when you both opened your eyes again in the afterlife, you were still holding on to each other. Nothing would separate you two anymore, you wouldn’t let the forces of the universe get between the two of you anymore. Never again…

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Hello and welcome to my blog, everyone! I’m so excited to finally get this first post out. I can’t wait to get more stories out, and I hope you guys enjoy this and any more that’ll come in the future! Thank you guys for reading all of it!

Any similarities to any other posts are purely coincidental and not intentional. Thank you all so very much~

fuck this handmaids tale country.