#zoned out while listening to White Night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mountainsandmayhem · 1 month

Text

Wonderful Tonight

Marcus Pike x Pregnant Female Reader - 18+

Summary: Marcus Pike takes care of his very pregnant wife, shaving her legs (and more) and then treats her like the delicious meal she is. CW: pregnancy, shaving, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected p in v (you can't get pregnant while pregnant, but all of you better be wrappin it up!), praise, pet names (baby, honey, etc.), multiple orgasms. This is fluffy romantic smut. AN: I write one piece with feelings and suddenly I'm Mrs Romance over here! I gotta say that I'm falling deeper and deeper for Mr Marcus Pike, JUST LOOK AT THAT FACE!!! I feel like their wedding song would have been Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton, hence the title. Thank you @syd-djarin for reading this over for me. @survivingandenduring, I'll be waiting for my edits lol. Dividers by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 3.9k

A faint groan stirs Marcus awake, he takes a few seconds to fully come to, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Trying to listen for that sound again, unsure if it was a dream or not. He reaches across the plush white bedding of the king sized bed looking for you, his beautiful and very pregnant wife, only to find the bed empty.

Usually, worry and panic would rush through him if you weren’t in bed, but you appear to be in your nesting phase and it hasn’t been unusual in these last few weeks for him to find you rearranging the nursery or ordering more things off Amazon at strange hours. You also seemed to have the strangest midnight cravings, like mayonnaise on ice cream, or there was that night he walked on you about to take a bite out of a kitchen sponge.

He sits on the edge of the bed and stretches, looking over at his alarm clock. 2:56 am.

The sound of you huffing and grunting floats from under the door of your ensuite bathroom. You sound like you’re struggling or in pain and adrenaline courses through Marcus as he hops up and rushes to the door. His mind racing to calculate the number of weeks pregnant you are and if it’s too soon for you to be in labour or not.

He tries the door handle to find it locked. “Babe?” He calls, rapping his knuckle in the door gently.

“Sorry. I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” you call back, your voice seems off like it’s laced with discomfort. It immediately sets his teeth on edge, you’re not fine, and according to his quick math you’re also at a point where you could go into labour and even though the baby would be a little early, they’d be past the danger zone and the baby would most likely be ok.

“Please open the door. You don’t sound fine.” He says softly, pushing the panic down like the trained FBI agent he is.

You’re quiet for a second before responding in a more stable voice, “Everything is fine. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Are you sure everything is ok?” He asks one more time, he knows your stubborn tendencies and how it usually takes him to ask three or four times before you give in.

It’s silent again behind the door. Just the sound of you huffing like you ran a marathon before a sad little ‘no’ leaves your lips. It simultaneously sends him into fix mode and breaks his heart. He hears your bare feet pad across the tile floor followed by the click of the lock.

He cracks the door slowly to come face to face with you in just your sports bra, naked from the ribs down. Your legs are slathered in raspberry and tangerine scented shaving cream and you have a purple razor in your hand. Your cheeks are pink with frustration and the exertion of trying to bend down. Your hair’s piled on top of your head, a few loose strands falling and sticking along the nape of your neck.

He leans his toned bicep against the doorframe, only wearing his tight black boxers, then crosses his arms and looks at you tenderly. His voice is soft and full of love as he says, “Oh, sweetie. What are you doing?”

The tears of frustration start to pool along your lash line. “I’m gonna give birth and I can’t be a Sasquatch, but I can’t bend over without feeling like my lungs are being crushed by my giant belly.”

Marcus cups your face, wiping away the stray tear and bringing your eyes to his. “Honey, you’re not a Sasquatch. And even if you were, they’re doctors. Come here,” his hand trails to the nape of your neck and he pulls you gently into him, wrapping both arms around you and tucking your head into his neck, “They’re not looking at your leg hair. They’re focused on you and the baby.”

You relax into his arms, belly pressing against his abdomen comfortably. “I can’t go into labour like this,” you say, anxiety wavering in your voice.

Marcus drops his arms from your body and slides past you, slipping his boxers down before stepping into the large, glass walled shower. He turns the nob that controls the rainfall shower head and crooks his fingers at you as a silent call to walk to him.

When you reach him, he starts to unzip the front of your sports bra. “What are you doin’, Mr Pike?” You say softly over the soothing sounds of the shower, watching his thick fingers pull the zipper down.

“I’m shaving Mrs Pike’s legs,” he says as you look back up at him. His chocolate brown eyes soaked you in and made you weak in the knees.

“Marcus, you -“ he cuts you off as your sports bra hits the floor.

“I promise to love, cherish and treasure you,” he starts, lightly pulling you into the shower. He always recites his marriage vows when he can sense you’re about to fight off his help. His way of reminding you that he wants to be there, wants to care for you. He continues his speech as he leads you to the wooden bench, “In all circumstances; good or bad. Forever. Without hesitation or keeping score. From this breath, until my last breath, you are my wife, my love, my partner, and my equal.”

He steadies you as you sit before taking a knee in front of you and smiling up at you sweetly.

“Thank you,” you whisper. It’s the middle of the night and this incredibly sweet man doesn’t even question or fight you. Just supports and loves you with his whole being. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Baby, you’re growing a person for us. You deserve so much more,” he holds his palm out and you place the razor in his hand. His other hand wraps around your swollen ankle lifting it to rest your foot on his knee. Before you can say much he starts making slow, gentle strokes of the razor up your leg.

You’re both silent for a moment, him lost in the sight of your soft skin as he shaves your leg, you lost in him and the way he’s looking at you as he drags the sharp razor so tenderly across your skin. The steam from the shower wraps around the two of you, encasing you in your own little cloud. The rest of the world and all your worries are temporarily blocked out until all your thoughts are just Marcus. Sweet, loving, emotionally available, Marcus Pike.

He reaches for the detachable shower head and drizzles warm water down your shin and calf, using his free hand to rinse away the excess shaving cream. You go to move your leg away but he grabs your ankle to keep you there. After switching off the water he puts it back and looks up at you, placing a light and lingering kiss on the inside of your knee before placing your foot back on the warm tile floor and grabbing the other ankle.

The shaving cream has washed away from the steam and backsplash from the rainfall behind Marcus, so he grabs the bar of soap and lathers up your leg. You watch again as he focuses all his attention on carefully shaving your other leg. Using the same little strokes, rinsing the razor more often than you would if you were doing it yourself.

After rinsing off the excess soap he glances up at you. “Better?” He asks soothingly.

“Ya,” you say, trying to convince him that your legs were your only worry, but he knows you better than that. He knows that when you flick your eyes away from his and your spine just slightly stiffens you want to ask something but are afraid or nervous to.

“Honey, what else do you need?” His hand kneads the swollen and sore muscles of the calf that’s still propped on his knee.

“Well…” you trail off as you start to blush.

“Mrs Pike. Are you going to ask me to shave your pussy?” He says with a devious little grin. Eyes lighting up like a horny teenager, placing your foot on the floor.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say quickly. “I’m just worried that -“

He lightly covers your lips with his palm and Reminds himself to stay calm. he’s thought about how sensual it would be to shave your most delicious areas, but he knows you have some insecurities about body hair, and he didn’t want you to think you had to be clean shaven for him to find you sexy. Because truthfully, you could be a Sasquatch and he’d still want you. “Oh no, baby. I want to. I really REALLY want to.”

You lightly kiss the inside of his palm as he smiles hungrily at you. Just as your insecurities start to cloud your thoughts Marcus places his hands on your belly and rubs gently. “For the record, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, clean shaven or not. I love the taste of your pussy when it’s like this, it’s sweeter and feels soft against my skin. Plus, I love the way you cry out when I tug on it. So don’t think for a second that my excitement over getting to shave her means I prefer it that way. I don’t. Ok?”

You crash your lips into his, tangling your fingers through the slightly outgrown hair at the nape of his neck. He tastes like toothpaste still from before he went to bed as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, his soft wet tongue swiping against yours. The two of you stay like that for a while. Lazily making out in the middle of the night in the shower. His hands trail from your belly to your back, gently massaging the muscles of your lower back and then your hips.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you catch your breath. “I’m going to get a new razor and your special shaving cream. Ok?”

You nod against him. “Are you ok on the bench, honey? Do you need a towel to sit on?”

“No, I’m ok. We can move if the ground is uncomfortable, Marcus.” He’s always beating you to ensure the other is comfortable.

“Be right back,” he winks. You watch him walk out of the shower to the vanity. The water droplets on his back run down the toned and slender muscles that line his back, they catch in the curve of his ass before running down his tight cheeks. You find yourself squeezing your knees together at the sight of your naked husband. He truly is so beautiful, inside and out.

He slips back into the shower and kneels before you, sitting back on his heels. “Slide to the edge, baby.” His hands come to your hips, guiding you forward. He licks his lips and looks up at you through his thick lashes, big brown eyes dancing softly around your face. “Spread your legs for me.”

Normally, saying something like that would sound dirty, or like a command, but it floats gently over the splash of the shower. Soft, caring, and so sweet that you melt back onto your hands, parting your knees wide for your husband. His eyes glaze over slightly as his lips part, your glistening soft folds on display for him. He blinks a few times and takes a slow breath, reaching for the shower head again, cupping the water in his hand and drizzling it along your pussy. The breath catches in your throat, something about this feels incredibly sensual, and it doesn’t help that Marcus is looking down at your pussy like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Is the water ok? Not too hot?” He asks.

How did you get so lucky, but more so, how did anyone divorce this man in the past?

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” your voice waves, it’s breathy and full of arousal. He blinks up at you and smirks. He knows this is turning you on, and he plans to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as possible.

He applies the cream and grabs the razor, popping off the flimsy plastic guard before getting to work. His hand rests above your mound, pulling back gently to make the skin taut. He uses little strokes, rinsing the blade between each swipe of the razor. You close your eyes and let your head fall back as he continues. Once he’s removed all the hair from the top, he rests his hand on the now smooth skin just above your clit and gently pulls back. A soft whimper passes your lips, he’s so close to your most sensitive spots. But he said he’d help you shave, so he continues, swiping the razor in the same short strokes down one lip, and then the other. By the time he’s done, your breathing is rapid and shallow.

“You doing okay up there, baby?” He asks, placing the razor on the bench beside you.

You moan a soft ‘mmmmm-hmm’ as he reaches for the detachable shower head. You open your eyes, watching as he tests the water on his hand and wrist before holding the stream over your pussy. You gasp at the feeling of the warm water pressure flowing over your now swollen clit. Marcus smiles up at you, the dimple on his cheek forming and setting you on fire. He clicks the button on the side of the shower head, increasing the water pressure and holding it closer to your core.

“Marcus,” you whimper, leaning back further. Gravity lolling your head backwards.

“That’s it. Just relax, honey.” He says in a hushed voice, his free hand gripping and massaging the soft skin of your inner thigh higher and higher until he’s at the top. His thick middle and ring fingers coming to tease around your entrance.

“Oh god. Please, Marcus.” You say through bated breath. Your swollen breasts and belly rise and fall with your pleas.

He dips the tips of his fingers inside you, feeling your walls pulse and flutter. Taking his time to slowly fuck his fingers into you, inch by inch. Slowly. Lovingly. All while watching how you react. Watching the way your mouth falls open, eyebrows raising slightly, lips going soft as you moan his name.

Once his fingers are all the way, he curls them forward just as he clicks the button on the shower head, increasing the water pressure to its highest setting. You let out a long, husky wanton moan that echoes off the black tiled walls. “Cum for me, baby.”

Your legs start to shake, as your body almost launches you towards your release. Every muscle seems to go slack and it waves through you, pleasure reverberating from your aching clit, spreading to every cell in your body.

“Marcus. Oh fuck. Don’t stop, Pike. Please.”

You feel lighter, even as your heavy belly bounces as you grind shamelessly into Marcus’s palm and the spray of the shower head. He feels the grip of your slick walled pussy start to relax as you crest over the edge of your orgasm and start to come down. He pulls the stream of water away from your clit, the warmth of his large hand cupping you, his two thick fingers still working you slowly to the bottom of your high.

“You’re such a goddess, baby.” He says proudly. The praise wraps around you like a warm blanket as he slides his fingers from you carefully. “I wanna take you to bed and watch you do that again.”

You find the strength to arch your neck forward and look at him. You smile sleepily and nod, allowing your beautiful husband to take your hand, shut off the water, and lead you to bed. Before helping you climb in, he moves his hands to cup your face, placing his lips against yours. His chest rumbles with a content sigh as your tongue swipes hungrily along his soft bottom lip. One of your hands scoops under your belly, lifting it to relieve the pressure on your lower back, the other reaches for his hard cock. You grip around the base gently and stroke him slowly, matching the energy of the kiss.

“Mmmm, I like that baby,” he says between kisses, “But I’m not done with you yet. Let’s get you into bed.”

You climb in as gracefully as possible, praying silently that you don’t look like those sea lions that you watched on your honeymoon in Alaska a few years ago. You lay down on your back as Marcus climbs on top of you best he can, stretching to keep kissing you, doing his best not to put any of his weight on your bump. This position immediately puts pressure on your body, making you feel short of breath.

Your hands push at Marcus and you sit up slightly, seemingly fighting for breath. “Ugh,” you groan frustratedly, “I can’t breathe like that. I’m sorry. This is so unsexy.”

“Unsexy? I’m rock hard for you,” he says, looking down and then back at you with a smile. “You lay how it’s comfortable, how about that?”

“Pike, I’m only comfortable on my side with that crazy pillow under my leg.” You say, defeated and anxious. “I need you though.”

He thinks for a second, chewing his cheek as he surveys the pillows available. “Ok, what if you lay on your side, bottom leg straight, top leg hooked up and resting on the pillow?”

You smile at him lovingly, “Is that really gonna be sexy?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more turned on by anyone in my entire life. You’re glowing. I’m amazed by you every day.” He fluffs the pillows around you as you turn away from him, bending your leg up as high as your belly allows. “Is that comfy, baby?”

His fingers trace up and down your spine slowly as your body starts to sink and relax into the soft mattress. “Yes,” you whisper.

His lips come to your neck, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, down your neck and then along the top of your shoulder, fingertips swirling along your back and ass cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning at his sweet caresses. His lips continue to kiss your skin and down your back, as he spins his body so his feet are at the head of the bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says into your skin between kisses. “So strong. So selfless. I love you so much, Mrs Pike.”

Your whole body seems to tingle with anticipation of where he’s going to kiss next, you feel his hair tickle the inside of your top leg as he maneuvers his head between your thighs. You lift your leg higher, desperate to feel his mouth on your already sensitive pussy.

“Please, baby,” you gasp, arching your back slightly. “I need you to…”

His warm soft tongue licks a slow and teasing stripe from your asshole to your clit. A tortured moan leaves your lips, hips bucking into his face. Marcus lets out a silent laugh at your reaction. He’s always loved how your body responds to him. The very first time he made you cum, both of you still fully dressed as you made out, hips grinding into his as you shook, he knew that he wanted to see that for the rest of his life.

“Good girl, let me taste it.” He laps at you again, still just as slowly but with more pressure. Asshole, to entrance, to clit. Once. Twice. The third time his thumb comes to press into your now dripping pussy, tongue flicking around your nub slowly and with perfect pressure.

“You taste so good,” he moans between licks. “Such a good girl for me. You’re gonna cum soon aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yesss. Don’t stop, Pike.” He doesn’t stop, he never stops. Not until you’re either begging him to or you’re pushing him away.

“Never, honey,” he mumbles into your wet folds, and that’s when the tight elastic behind your mound snaps, and you cum hard and loud. Your inner walls grip his thumb tightly, pulling it deeper.

“M-Marcus…hnnggg…oh my god. Yes.” You’re lost in the euphoria. Every ache and pain from your pregnancy is temporarily erased and replaced with nothing but pleasure. Sparkling, warm pleasure.

It slowly starts to become too much, slipping into overstimulation. “Marcus. Stop, baby.” He’s always in tune with your body, his thumb already starting to slide out, tongue replaced with light kisses.

You whine as he pulls away, already missing him and the intimacy. “Please fuck me,” you say over your shoulder, his blown out coffee coloured eyes almost black. He slips his body alongside yours, the arm closest to the mattress slipping under your head. He grips his dick with his other hand, pumping it while running it up and down your slit, collecting your arousal.

“Ready, baby?” Marcus asks, kissing the top of your shoulder.

“Just fuck me already!”

If you weren’t pregnant he’d flip you onto your belly and drive into you, probably pull your hair and tell you to cut the attitude. But he knows he has to be gentler right now, so he slowly pushes the thick head of his cock into you. Inching in slowly, almost punishingly. “Don’t be a brat, baby. You know we have to be softer right now.”

You wiggle your ass back, trying to get more. You need all of him. When he’s finally seated all the way inside of you he holds still, sucking on your neck. “Be good, or I’ll just stay like this all night.”

“No, please, baby. Please move.” Your belly makes forward movement impossible so you’re just pinned between your bump and Marcus. “Pike, please.”

He quickly pulls back to the tip and then slides back in. You cry out into his bicep. “Again. Please. Again.”

“Fuck, I love it when you beg,” he whispers, fucking in and out of you a few more times. It’s deep and slow, always with a little extra punch of his hips at the very end. “Sound so pretty when you moan for me.”

You reach down to rub your clit, him encouraging you with his words. “That’s a good girl. Touch yourself for me.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re both on the edge, ready to tumble over together. To get lost in each other's pleasure. He moans deeply in your ear, whispering praises as you cum on his cock, holding off as long as he can before you feel his warm spend fill you. You’ve completely melted for him, unable to move or keep your eyes open. You both lay quiet, his softening cock still buried inside you, breathing heavily together. You both drift off, spent and happy and so unbelievably in love that it’s hard to believe something like this can exist.

Marcus wakes up a few hours later still inside you. He slowly slips himself out, peels his body away from yours and tucks the blankets around you. He leaves you a little handwritten note that he’s going to get French toast and bacon from your favourite place.

Ya, it’s definitely hard to believe that a love like this is yours.

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag

@pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes

@jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather

@ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fluff #pedro is daddy #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #the mentalist

368 notes · View notes

onepiecepetalfanfics089 · 8 months

Text

Omg this was so good like there something about breeding kink luffy that hits different 😩.

Do you take any requests cuz how about possessive gear 5 luffy 🤭

Imagination~..

Smoke seemed to fill the air as you sighed, your hair was tied up and you were wearing a kimono to celebrate the festival and of course, Luffy’s victory against kaido.

You and the crew were so so happy that he’d won! Who could’ve guessed that gear five could be that…cartoonish right..?

Well you were just making sure when everything was set with your outfit and hair when suddenly a faint mist filled the room..

Familiar mist…

A Pure, white and almost god like presence was definitely there. Watching you..

The same familier wide grin and blood red eyes popped out from what you could see in the mirror as hands covered your eyes. You could almost hear the giggling already from behind you as he footed while looking down at you. You could feel it..

A sigh left your lips and dropped what you were doing.

“Guess who!!”

You raised an eyebrow, why hadn’t he turned back into Luffy yet..? It was almost like he was doing this on purpose but you complied with his hand of course because he was your captain still technically and even more so..

A God.

“Hmm..I dunno..is it the guy who saved a whole country?”

You replied, your voice being playful as I you looked up. He took his hands off of your eyes and somehow grinned even more.

“Bingo!!!” He Saïd with a loud laugh which caused you to join in on the laughter.

Admittedly, he was quite the funny and cute one. Just an hour after beating kaido he spent all his time with you, following you around and floating wherever you went. Sometimes just blabbering about random nonsense while laughing at his own goofy acts and jokes.

There was times that he made you laugh so much that you had to held your stomach and drop to the ground, forcibly and just by his own doings.

But, there were also times where he acted rather strange when someone would get too close and try to ‘steal’ you away from him..

He seemed absolutely adamant about keeping you close..

No one should and dared to keep your attention for too long. They knew that you were very precious to joyboy. He didn’t even have to say anything to anyone about your attention. They just knew.

He saved a whole country for peeks sake and not to mention fought and won against one of the emperors of the sea.

The crew even suspected why he was so clingy, he would constantly butt in at any chance they tried to at least do one activity with you!

Trying to train or take a nap with zoro?

‘Hey Y/N! You wanna hear some jokes?!’

Just having a normal conversation with usopp and listening to his tales?

‘Hey hey!! Y/N!! Look at me! Look what I can do!’

Proceeds to something so goofy with his body your at a loss with words..

Anything just to get your attention because we’ll..he wanted it! You intrigued him greatly with almost everything you did!

Could you really blame him?..

At the festival, the music was lovely and the lights were glittering with beautiful colors and you smiled seeing the happy people who were celebrating the victory of no one other than your captain, Luffy.

Who was still in his god like form and stuffing his face with meat, rice and any food he could get his hands on. While keeping a firm hand in your hip to keep you close.

Sipping your Sake while Nika was blabbing away with goofy nonsense, you were half listening and half zoning out when suddenly you felt light tap on your shoulder.

It was Law. His eyes bore into you as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at you. This apparently caught Nikas attention as well. You of course didn’t notice though.

“Hey so uh..I’ve been watching you this whole time and you’ve been in the same place the entire night..”

He glanced over at the ‘sun god’ beside you .

“Would you want to dance?..”

The who party seemed to get quieter.

Did he not know?..

Blinking a few times to adjust from the shock and surprise and put on a smile and gratefully nodded. For weeks you haven’t hung out with anyone other then the white haired boy with ruby red eyes..it was good to finally have some peace.

You turned to Nika who was gripping your hip with a frown, one that was very rare for a guy who’d smile nonstop no matter what.

“Hey Nika, im gonna go dance alright? I’ll be back soon!”

Before the godlike figure could even respond, you were off to dance with Law.

Nerves eased through you as your movements matched the man currently in front of you.

A little spin here, a touch of the hip there..one of his hands found its way on your waist and the other on your shoulder while the both of your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your heart was pounding through your chest and you could feel eyes on you..deciding to ignore it you just got lost in the gray ones that were staring at you while the two of you danced.

Meanwhile Nikas face was almost in a childlike pout, watching you dance with the surgeon. His body in a laying position as he floated up on a white cloud. So many emotions were boiling up inside of him at that moment..he just had to figure out which one was the most controlling of him..

The final straw was when he saw him gently squeeze your waist and whisper something in your ear that made you giggle.

His fists clenched and his eyes narrowed.

He wasn’t that amused anymore..

After the party a smile stained your lips as you sat down by a lake, the moonlight casting upon the water perfectly.

Just then you felt it..that presence again.

Two red eyes peeled out of the shadows and a familiar grin was spread across the face you knew so well.

“Oh hey Nika..the party was fun wasn’t it?..I-”

Without another word you felt the warm feeling of his lips on yours. Your eyes widened in complete shock and your cheeks flushed a red color that could compete with the boys eyes.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he pushed you with little force into his lap. The familiar feeling of mist surrounding you resurfaced.

You didn’t know what to say..What on earth was happening with him?!

Eventually his stretched arms loosened slightly and he slowly traced his hands down to your waist, rubbing his fingers on the sides, His other hand went down to your thigh.

He finally stopped kissing you but his grin of course remained. Your mouth was agape and you were still trying to get over the fact that your captain had just kissed you!

His touch lingered while his hands just seemed to roam around your body almost lovingly.

“Hey Y/N..?”

Snapping out of the still remaining shock you slowly lowered your head.

“U-Uh..yeah?..”

“..we’re close right..?”

“Yeah..you could say that..”

“So don’t do that again.”

You were now again at a loss of words.

“Do what again..?”

He didn’t respond or didn’t really care to listen anymore as he hugged you tight, the wide grin that almost everyone knows him for returning while he chuckled.

“..hehe!!”

Raising an eyebrow you couldn’t help but snort too..he could never resist to make you laugh too..

Protective yet possessive arms wrapped then self around you tightly while a head nuzzled cozily into your neck.

Chucking could still be heard that almost sounded mischievous, yet still full of glee.

For a second you thought he was almost making a plan to always keep you in sight..no matter what the cost..

But of course that was crazy talk..

Yeah, it was alll just your imagination..

Eeeeeeeh i love this so much!! Omg- I hope this was good because I adored writing this and just Nika’s character in general!! Ty so much to @sirenbeloved for the request! I loved writing it! Thank you!! 💕💕

I MIGHT post another story but it’ll be like real late- but you best believe that I’m probably gonna post again tomorrow!!

Thank you for reading and again, have a good night/day or evening my lovely petals and thank you so much for just being with me and reading my work ❤️🌸❤️🌸💓🫶🏼

481 notes · View notes

honeykyeom · 1 year

Text

white noise / track 2: smoke

pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

series summary: seokmin had always been there for you. after a rough heartbreak, you find out he’s there for you in more ways than just one.

series notes: uni!au, best friends to lovers, friends with benefits, 97 line antics, 18+

chapter warnings: alcohol & food mention, mcu mention (lmao), the gang actually goes to class?? (not really but), seokmin kinda being dumb, mingyu being pouty (what's new), the full gang!! FINALLY!!!!!, mostly slight angst (not sorry)

wc: ~5k

a/n: after much anticipation, the second track (even though i'm nowhere near done with the third LMAO)! thank you so much for all the renewed interest and love on the first track, i really really REALLY appreciate it. seriously it means the world!

read track 1 here!

Walking out of your shared English Literature class with Jinsoul, you grab your phone from your back pocket, the light from the homescreen illuminating your face even in the cloudy daylight. The weather matches your mind: murky and foggy, obscuring your clarity. As you focus on the LED screen, zoning out Jinsoul’s voice and looking through the endless notifications you received while in class, there was one that was still noticeably absent.

No messages from Seokmin.

It’s been about a week since the party, since that fateful night, with no word from Seokmin. You were left alone the next morning, waking up next to an empty space and cold sheets. You sat up in your bed, your mind running a thousand miles a minute with the finish line nowhere in sight. You felt lost on the track, stuck on where you two go from here and no chance to speak with him about it.

Did he regret that night? Was it a mistake to cross that line?

“Hey!”

You felt a sudden pain on your arm, breaking your attention from your thoughts. You look over at Jinsoul, rubbing the sore spot that she playfully hit. “What?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“...Yeah, of course.”

Jinsoul rolls her eyes, your dazed expression making it apparent that you weren’t listening to her rant about your class. “Okay, you’ve been out of it all week. What’s up with you?” She asks you, an earnest shine in her eyes, treading lightly on the topic.

You falter in your steps, unsure of how to answer her question. You wanted to tell her, air out your frustrations, explain the current predicament you were in and finally get the heavy burden that was weighing you down off your shoulders. Something in your brain stops you from doing that, however, leaving you to twiddle your fingers and your thoughts taking refuge in the back of your mind.

You settle with, “Nothing. Everything’s fine,” in a meek voice, avoiding Jinsoul’s worrying stare.

She can tell that you’re lying, your entire frame sinking into itself; it’s not hard to see your demeanor changing, but she keeps her mouth shut, not wanting to overstep her boundaries. Even if she wanted to say anything, her own thoughts are interrupted with your smile and wave to Haseul and Yves, who are both meeting you halfway in the courtyard.

Haseul is the first to greet you back, running up to hug you immediately. Yves saunters, a smirk on her face as she sits at the table that’s situated in the middle of your group. You move your attention to her, continuing to hold Haseul in a tight hug with an eager smile. “So… how was your date with ViVi?”

Jinsoul is even quick to change the subject, her excitement for her friend showing in her bubbly appearance. “Oh my god, yes! Tell us, please!”

“It was good… We just walked along the river and went to a coffee shop that wasn’t too far. Wasn’t like an extravagant date or anything.”

“ViVi asked to see her again,” Haseul adds, ever the overbearing mother, embarrassing Yves with her admission. Squeals contribute to her embarrassment as you and Jinsoul berate her with questions and requests for more details and Yves is unable to hide her excitement, her own screams joining the group. You’re sure to be annoying the sleep-deprived students around you in the courtyard, but nothing can dull the joy in your circle.

“What are we screaming about?”

Your chatter is interrupted by the entrance of Minghao and Mingyu, sliding in beside Yves. You notice quickly that there’s a missing body from the usual trio, only adding to your anxieties of the day. Why is Seokmin avoiding me, you think as the two men join the group.

“We’re screaming about Yves’ date with ViVi,” Jinsoul responds, a laugh coming out of her lips as she excitedly recounts the conversation. Mingyu wraps his arms around Yves when he hears the news, joining in on the celebration and Minghao has a smile of endearment gracing his face, a clear sign of love that’s bursting through the seams.

“It was just one date,” Yves mumbles through Mingyu’s tight grasp, still grinning from ear to ear. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Minghao interjects in the conversation, “So! You’ve been talking forever. It’s about time you two did something about it.” He brings his water bottle, which was encased in a decent amount of glistening water droplets, up to his lips and clears his throat once he swallows the liquid before he continues his sentiment. “We’ve seen how you’ve been around her. She makes you happy and that’s all that matters and we’re excited for you.”

A rare demure expression is seen on Yves’ face. A tight-lipped, shy and curved smile flashes as she responds quietly, “Yeah… It’s exciting.” Her body relaxes as waves of approval from the group assures her. She never needed your approval, nor does she ever ask for it, but you’ve seen her heart go through men and women, her confidence gliding through the acute pain she never spoke about.

“Get more excited! It’s about time one of us got cuffed,” Mingyu comments, loosening his grip on Yves, but still keeping an arm around her shoulders and keeping her warm against his body.

“Yeah, why isn’t it you, Gyu? Being a hopeless romantic and all that,” you retort, falling back into your playful banter with him to hopefully ease your own anxieties.

“Why are you asking? Trying to cuff me?”

You scoff at his cocky expression, “You wish.” He returns your statement with a cheeky wink, playing up the faux attraction. The back and forth with Mingyu doesn’t make the thought in the forefront of your mind go away as much as you hoped. “Where’s Seokmin? Isn’t he in the same class with you guys?”

Minghao is the one to respond, “He said he had to leave for something. Not sure for what.. He’ll be at movie night, though.”

Okay, he’s definitely avoiding me, you think. He’s never been this MIA before, usually taking any opportunity to casually talk to the group but more importantly, you.

The hole you were feeling in your life is greater than any heartbreak you’ve ever felt. No breakup, no fallout, nothing hurt like the slow disintegration of the friendship between you and your best friend, all because of a stupid decision.

“Y/N?”

You look up to see everyone around the table looking at you expectantly.

“I’m sorry. What was the question?”

“Do you need help with setting up for movie night tonight?” Haseul asks. “Minghao and I get out of class early so we can head over after?”

You bring your mouth up in a lipless smile, trying to muster all the happiness you can fake as you respond, “Yeah. Sounds great.”

At least you’ll see Seokmin tonight and maybe then you’ll get some answers.

“Have you guys noticed anything weird with Seokmin lately?”

Minghao stops setting up the blankets on your couch to catch your gaze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His expression matches Haseul’s, a slight frown forming when they meet eyes, trying to think about your mutual friend. Their heads come up empty, Minghao returning to look at you as he responds to your inquiry, “Nope. Everything seems normal to me?”

“Yeah, I haven’t noticed anything with him,” Haseul agrees. Her melodic work at making room in the fridge for incoming abundance of drinks fills the otherwise quiet room, the only other noise being the soft r&b coming from the television. She stands up from her kneeled position, slowly joining you at the kitchen island. “Why do you ask?”

Your body tenses, biting your bottom lip as your hands play with the plastic of the popcorn bags you’re prepping. The crinkling sounds fill your mind, playing with the static of your thoughts. You’re certain the pause is suspicious. Minghao and Haseul were naturally attuned to people’s emotions and you were no exception, no matter how hard you tried to hide them. You bring your focus away from the comfort of the plastic wrappers back to Haseul, attempting to steady your mind. “I just feel like he’s been avoiding me since the party. Like, outside of the groupchat.”

“That’s weird. Why?”

“I don’t know.” Lie.

“Did something happen during or after the party?”

“Not that I know of.” Another lie.

Haseul’s hands rest on her hips, eyes downcast as she thinks over your responses. “Huh.” Her tongue comes out of her mouth, pointed out in thought and she looks over at Minghao, who has now joined the two of you at the kitchen island. “Minghao, did he say anything when he got back home?’

“Not at all. He made it back to our apartment before us and when we got back, he was already asleep.”

You were brought back to that night, after everything was said and done.

You and Seokmin were quiet, his arm around you like a protective blanket, holding you against his chest. You couldn’t lie–his touch was comforting and while unfamiliar, not unwelcome. You two weren’t strangers to cuddling or being close, the behavior at the party making that evident, but this felt different. Maybe it was the obvious fact that you two crossed a line, a line that had been drawn in the sand for the both of you for the past two years–now, the small granules lifted in the air and swept away with the wind, blurring that already thin line.

Despite his own heart's pleas, Seokmin was the first to speak, his own voice small and faint. “I think I should go… before the guys’ get suspicious.” His actions fail his words, not loosening his grasp. He wasn’t ready to go, not ready to leave your presence, but he’d rather rip the bandaid off now than later before he has to go back to reality–the reality that you two were just best friends and nothing more.

“Do you think they’d be suspicious? I mean you’ve stayed over before?”

He winces at your question, the hopeful lilt in your tone making his decision that much more difficult. He has to do this, he thinks. It’s for his own good.

“I think it would be better if I go.”

Suddenly, there’s a knock at your door, breaking your memories and bringing you back to Haseul and Minghao, both of them still discussing the behavior of Seokmin. Their conversation stops when they hear the chatter of your friends behind the door.

You leave the kitchen to open your front door, revealing the rest of your friend group, ready to join in on the festivities. Jinsoul is the first to enter, a bright smile gracing her face as she exclaims that she brought more snacks for the night, leaving the group with plenty of food to satisfy themselves. Yves and Mingyu are quick to follow behind her, carrying cases and paper bags. The clinking of glass and aluminum make it apparent that they did not disappoint with their task of grabbing drinks for the night. They greet you with loud howling, the excitement of the night and finally being able to unwind after a week of exams and assignments getting to them.

You lock eyes with the lone straggler, the last person in the line of people joining you in your apartment. He keeps his cardigan close to him as he looks at you, a tight-lipped smile emphasizing the small dimple underneath his lips. You drink him in as you realize this is the first time you two have seen each other since that night.

You almost forgot how attractive he was, the week apart making his features more prominent in your mind.

“Hey,” you’re the first to crack the ice barrier between you two, hoping for it to thaw enough to make the night less awkward.

“Hey.”

You could cut the tension with a knife with how well this conversation was going. The air suddenly felt thick, so thick and dry that it sucked the moisture right out of you, causing you to swallow any saliva you could muster.

Alright, you think. Here goes nothing.

“So, um… about that night-”

“Are you guys going to watch the movie from over there? Hurry up!”

Damn it, Yves.

Seokmin clears his throat and quickly moves past you in the door frame, joining everyone else in the kitchen to situate himself for the movie night. You watch him leave, turning around as your front door slams behind you. He grabs a plastic cup, opting for water for the night, much to Mingyu’s chagrin.

This is going to be much harder than you thought.

You didn’t think it was possible to care any less about the fight scene in front of you, but here you are. You thought that picking one of your comfort films, or one where you turn your brain off and ignore all the plotholes, would help with your uneasiness but the absence of a familiar warmth next to you makes your brain aware of how apparent the flaws of the MCU have always been.

Mingyu’s big body acts like a heated blanket and the plush cushions of your sectional are comfortable enough for you to fall asleep if you wanted to. He happily took the opportunity to get close to you, saddling up to your side and enjoying Captain America trying to save his dear friend, Bucky Barnes and you wish you could do the same. It’s not that Mingyu’s cuddling wasn’t welcomed.

It just wasn’t Seokmin.

You and him had always sat together during movie night, acting like two peas in a pod, attached at the hip. But now here he sits, on the opposite side of your couch fumbling his fingers with your fuzzy, lilac blanket. It’s hard to keep your attention away, trying to focus on your steady breathing as opposed to his movements.

Soon as the movie dies down, Steve and Natasha breathing heavily on the doorstep of Sam Wilson, Seokmin stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans. Clearing his throat, he addresses the group, “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Although everyone moves their focus from the television, Jinsoul, who lifts her head from your shoulder, is the one to speak. “Do you need us to pause the movie?”

“Nah, you guys are good. It’ll be quick.”

Seokmin disappears into your bedroom, the door to your adjacent bathroom clicking shut. Everyone’s attention returns to the movie and you wish yours could do the same, but it was never there in the first place. You bounce your leg as the time passes, the scenes in front of you blending into one another. It’s not long before your mind settles on a decision, hoping for an end to this madness and before you can change it, you’re breaking away from Mingyu’s grasp and following Seokmin’s footsteps.

“Don’t wait up, I need to use the bathroom too.” You don’t even look back to see the group’s reaction or wait to hear their response before you’re entering your bedroom.

Looking at the bathroom door, the harsh yellow glow of light seeping through the floor haunts you. The toilet flushes, the sound filling your own brain with water and your head gets fuzzy, almost like you’re underwater. The waves begin to climb, threatening to suffocate you.

It’s now or never.

“What the fuck?”

You slam the bathroom door behind you and you’re met on the other side with a shocked Seokmin. His hands were dripping with water, soap bubbles following the path of his veins that run down his skin. He looks at you incredulously, completely taken aback by your presence in the space that he’s taken refuge in from the increasing anxiety of your current situation.

He knew it was only a temporary relief, but it was a moment to breathe–a moment away from you. He expected to have just a few minutes to collect his thoughts, regulate his breathing and try not to think about you being in his vicinity. What he didn’t expect was for you to break into that solace, infecting every piece of his mind.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Why are you avoiding me?” you ignore his question, rendering him speechless and babbling, trying to collect his thoughts.

He walks over to your hand towel, the blues of the fabric bleeding dark from the water. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh ok! So, leaving me on read all week, walking away anytime I enter a room with you and saying 3 words to me face to face isn’t avoiding me?” Seokmin takes a deep breath, leaning against the faux marble counter. His eyes stay downcast, evading your accusing stare and he keeps silent. “You’ve been weird ever since last weekend… You promised nothing would change after everything.”

Walking Seokmin to your door, you keep his hand intertwined with yours. You can’t help but notice the change in atmosphere–the glow of your kitchen lights shine a more golden hue, the air around you has a different stillness and even the feeling of his skin on yours clashes with the usual relationship. It’s all subtle, but it’s enough to notice.

You stop in your tracks, Seokmin moving forward until you pull him back, not letting go of his hands. Biting your lip, you look up at him as he gets closer, eyebrows furrowing with confusion as to why you stopped.

“What’s up?”

After a beat of silence, you respond but your apprehensiveness remains, “Nothing’s going to change between us because of this… right?”

Seokmin’s eyes shine with sincerity and his mouth is slightly left agape as he ponders on his response. He’s never been one to be certain of the future, choosing to live in the moment and take each moment day by day–all with a positive attitude. Once he collects his thoughts, there’s a finality to his tone, as if he’s never been more sure of anything.

He releases your hand, only to present his pinky finger. You chuckle at the silly ritual you two have, but at least you know he’s serious.

“Nothing is going to change between us. Pinky promise.”

Seokmin can only stare at his reflection in the mirror, dirty water stains peering back at him. “I wanted everything to be normal,” he states, simply.

“Well, why wasn’t it?”

“Because I liked it, maybe.” He breaks his gaze from the mirror and finally looks at you. The fine lines in his face are more apparent this close, like the stress from the past week had caught up to him. “I liked it. And I didn’t know how to tell you that or maybe, I didn’t want to admit it since it was just a drunk hookup.” Seokmin lets out a shaky breath, unsure how to continue, if he even should. The heaviness that has been weighing him down all week was lifted, his chest heaving from the truth that’s been released.

You approach Seokmin apprehensively, closing the distance between you two. It isn’t until your hands are touching on the counter do you respond to him, ending the silence. “I liked it too,” you confess.

“Would it be bad to admit that I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” Seokmin’s voice is soft, afraid to break the glass of the situation. He keeps his eyes focused on your hands, not willing to meet your face again. The air around you two has shifted, a fluid current flowing between your hands.

“Who says that we can’t do it again?”

He chuckles, shaking his head before he says, “The thing is I don’t want to stop.”

“Maybe I don’t want to stop either.”

Seokmin thinks he’s dreaming. When he looks at your face, there’s a playful spark in your eyes and the tone of your voice tempts him, as it always has. He could be imagining the smirk that tugs at the corner of your lips or the slight squeeze you give his hand and the small actions may cloud his judgment on how he should handle this situation, but he doesn’t care. He’s acting on pure adrenaline when he brings his hands to your face, connecting your lips together.

Everything about the kiss is different from the last time you kissed Seokmin. The shivers run down your body all the same but the soft nature of him has vanished, replaced with a fiery exterior. As his fingers leave your cheeks, falling to your waist and bringing your body closer to his, the touch kindles at your insides, your skin on fire.

Your bodies meld together from the heat, pulling yourselves closer until it was physically impossible. Seokmin’s lips work feverishly, eliciting a moan out of you and your nails leave crescent moons on his skin from the grip you had on him. It all makes his head spin, somehow more than you already did. He was insatiable–confirming that last week, he was not only drunk on alcohol, but drunk on you.

You feel like you’re floating, on the surface of a cloud, only to realize you aren’t 10 feet in the air when Seokmin pushes you against the bathroom door. His hands hold onto your waist tightly, making sure the impact isn’t too loud or painful. The only thing that fills the air is the heavy breathing shared between the two of you.

Between frantic hands and heated kisses, the two of you weren’t willing to break apart from each other. In the back of his mind, he begins to think of the others that sit in the room next door.

He could stay like this forever, but he didn’t want anyone to get any ideas. Seokmin separates your lips, albeit reluctantly, and you’re quick to chase him, not wanting the moment to end. Labored breaths fill the humid air and your lips are red from the constant contact. Softening his touch, he brings his forehead to yours in a moment of solace, trying to clear the static in his mind and regulate his breathing.

“We should get back to the others before they get suspicious,” he manages to get out through his dry throat. Seokmin’s voice is low, raspy and especially cautious, careful to keep his words contained to these four walls. “We should keep this between us.”

You only have enough sense in you to nod, agreeing to his statement. Head still foggy from the heat and dampness of the air, you finally open your eyes and respond, “I think so too…” You take a deep breath before you continue, “Don’t want to change too much.”

“It’s probably for the best.”

Seokmin internally winces at those words, the same ones that left his mouth when he had to leave your place last week. His statement cuts through his heart, exposing his flesh and reality–the reality that he’s helplessly in love with you, his best friend.

Or best friend with benefits?, he thinks. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster.

But he can’t deny the lightness he feels or the way his stomach churns at the thought of holding you, kissing you, or having you moan his name amidst a dizzy spell from pleasure. The situation he’s bringing upon himself is selfish and foolish and everything he shouldn’t be doing when it comes to his adoration towards you, but your charm has him under a trance; one that he doesn’t know if he wants to leave.

“I’m going to head back now,” Seokmin giggles with a shy smile, not taking a step away from you to do what he says.

“Okay,” you respond. Leaning off of the door and giving Seokmin room to leave, you return his smile with a coy smirk of your own.

But before you can get too far, Seokmin pulls you back into him and brings your lips to his in another hasty kiss. It’s quick, it’s rushed and it still leaves you breathless all the same. It’s new territory for you two, deviation from a path you never thought you’d stray. It lights a fire within you to be exploring it with him.

He separates from you to say, “Okay. I’m actually going to go now.” His smile reaches his eyes, his signature wrinkles prominent on his face when removes his hands from your waist. “I just had to do that first.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Seokmin,” and with a giddy smile, he leaves you in the bathroom, the sound of a soft click of the door filling the air. The buzz of electricity from your lights adds to your daze. As you lean back against the door, feeling weightless from the pressure of Seokmin’s fingers through the cotton of your t-shirt, you think of how reckless this is and how destructive this could be–not only hiding it from your friends but how fragile it can make your friendship.

It would be easy to go to a party and cling on to a random person for the night. It would be easy to bat your eyelashes and play with the hem of their shirt, adding a playful lilt to your voice and an air of mystery around you. It would be easy to lose yourself in the moans, chasing your highs and then easily forget each other, as you tried to do with Jaehyun. It would be so easy, so simple and so careful.

If everything could be so easy with someone else, why does it also feel even more effortless with Seokmin? As it always has been with him.

Even through the carelessness or the secrecy, no random hookup made you forget like Seokmin had. His gentle worship and care of your body had you on cloud nine and seeing the galaxy. Your comfort was the most important thing to him, even after a few too many drinks. There was something about that night, something in the back of your mind, that guides you blindly through this winding road of uncertainty. You just hope that the road you were walking together doesn’t crumble beneath you.

“Sorry, you were gone for so long! I needed a new cuddle buddy.”

Of course, Mingyu couldn’t be alone for even just five minutes. When you return to the living room from the bathroom, Mingyu has his head on Jinsoul’s lap, her hands playing with the strands of his hair. He looks content, more relaxed than when he was on your shoulder, his huge body somehow compressed in the small space that you left.

Jinsoul’s fingers stop their movements as she states, “I can move,” teasing the boy.

“When did I say I wanted you to move?”

Jinsoul chuckles at his retort, bringing her hand back to his scalp and a pleased smile returning to his face. You probably weren’t going to get your seat back if Mingyu’s comfort was anything to go by.

“There’s room over here if you’re looking for a replacement cuddle buddy.”

Seokmin’s voice carries your attention, his smile hiding a sly intention that is imperceptible to the untrained eye. He does have tons of room. With Yves and Haseul huddled on the floor, a plush gray blanket covering their bodies, Seokmin is able to spread his legs on the sectional, taking up much of the left side.

Nonchalantly, you shrug and give a casual grin, “I guess you’ll do.”

“Shut up.”

As you saddle up to Seokmin’s side, resting your head on his shoulder, slotting to him like a puzzle piece, you can’t help but notice the small side glances that Minghao and Haseul give you. The flash of confusion on their faces goes quickly, trying to wrap their heads around how the tense situation between you and Seokmin dissipated so abruptly.

You’ll explain it to them later, you think. At least as best you can without giving you two away before there’s anything to begin with.

With the movie drawing to a close, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson on a search for their friend and the Maximoff twins revealed, the atmosphere has a much lighter and relaxed feel–the weird awkwardness and walking on eggshells between you and Seokmin gone. There’s retelling of old stories, laughs that could be considered embarrassing to most, and the playful banter that is signature to your friendship group dynamic. From the outside looking in, you would've never known there was a bump in the road.

And to your friends, they were none the wiser as to why Seokmin stopped talking to you or how you suddenly made up. They don’t know the hidden tension that his hand being on your thigh holds, looking casual enough to be considered normal affection.

“What time is it?” Minghao’s voice cuts through the loud noise, everyone turning to him. His shoulder slacks as he relaxes, leaning back and blending into the soft gray of the sectional with his oversized sweats.

Yves reaches for her phone, the device laying face up not too far from her figure. “It’s like 11.”

“Ugh… I need to head home. I love your sofa, but my bed is calling me.” Jinsoul gently pushes Mingyu off her lap, making a pout form on his lips from the loss of contact. “Can we please go home?” Jinsoul addresses Haseul, hoping that her roommate is ready to return to their own apartment.

“Yes, we can go.”

“Minghao?” Mingyu looks over at his own roommate, a pleading smile on his face.

“Yeah, fine, let’s go,” Minghao stands from the couch and turns his body to Seokmin, the remainder of their trio. “You coming?”

Seokmin’s eyes flash between you and Minghao before responding, “I was actually going to stay and help clean up.” He addresses you when he asks, “If that’s okay?”

At first you think, why would you need help with cleaning? The group has never made much of a mess, especially with Mingyu around. The most that needed to be done was putting away the extra drinks and snacks, finding enough room in your pantry. But taking another look at Seokmin, you read between the lines, his eyes glowing and mischief pulling at the corner of his lips. No cleaning is going to get done, not immediately anyway.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

#seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dk smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #happy friday!!! 🤭

603 notes · View notes

draemgal · 9 months

Text

ill-fated ii | rhysand

tag-list | @cat-or-kitten @witchyxvirgo @aurors-things @piceous21 @wallacewillow0773638

as requested, part two of ill-fated | thank you for all of the love!

some warnings before we proceed: in this, tamlin wasn’t insane and treated feyre well! helion appreciation post. y/n is gettin that good good.

it had been a grueling twelve months. months spent with tear stained pillows and smeared mascara under your eyes.

twelve months previously, you had broken down in front of morrigan and cassian in the middle of rita’s, the two quickly ushering you to the house of wind.

twelve months since the pages of your fairytale marriage got ripped out and crumbled beneath the gods crooked fingers.

things were finally looking up. as a resident of the day court, you had felt like you found your place. the court is the opposite of your old home and you relished the light of your new home.

a home of your own, a home not yet broken.

you kept in contact with the rest of the inner circle, but never your ex-husband. they never dared to mention it and you didn’t dare to ask.

letters piled up in the mailbox all in handwriting that was all too familiar. the only time you touched them was when you used them to help keep your fireplace alight. it gave you satisfaction to see your name that he dared to address.

he still put his last name after yours.

you sat in the sun, letting it’s warmth envelope your body and radiate off your skin. your eyes closed, listening to the various birds in the treetops above you flutter and chirp about.

“did you hear?” a woman from beside you spoke in between bites of an apple.

you frowned at the interruption but welcomed the conversation. “heard what?”

“feyre is engaged to the high lord of the spring court!” she exclaimed dreamily, probably thinking about her own future wedding. “i hope i get invited, i’m so happy for her.”,

this was when your heart stopped. rhysand’s mate, rejecting the bond for her lover. something he wasn’t strong enough to do for you. hearing that felt like she was rubbing salt into a wound that had yet to heal.

she continued to talk and handed you a letter that you absentmindedly took all while zoned out in your own thoughts.

𖤓

you and helion had gotten close over your first year in his court. he helped you transition from night to day. he helped mend the wounds made by rhysand. he helped you to learn to smile and laugh like you used to.

and now he was inviting you to the celebration he was holding for tamlin of the spring court.

enclosed in the letter, he states that based on the terms of your relationship with him, he’d like you to attend. he reasoned that rhysand didn’t write back stating that he’d be in attendance and that if he decided to come, he would help you through it.

so here you were, dressed in a white and gold gown and sat next to the dark-haired high lord of the day court. you held a glass of wine, swishing nervously every couple of minutes. helion’s hand was casually slouched over your shoulder as he mingled with other high fae.

conversation stopped as a slew of dark shadows entered the room, revealing azriel.

under normal circumstances, you’d be overjoyed to see the shadowsinger once again. but you knew that behind him would be your ex-husband.

azriel met your nervous gaze and offered you a small, supportive smile. a gesture so small that if you hadn’t known him for as long as you did you may have missed it.

cassian was next, waltzing in with confidence that you wished you could physically bathe in. he held his head high before looking in your direction, grinning with pride that you had even bothered to attend tonight.

little did he know you didn’t attend because you were brave, you came because you assumed rhysand wouldn’t show up.

helion’s grip on you tightened and you knew you didn’t even need to look to see who just entered the room.

rhysand’s hair was messy and the bags beneath the violet eyes you once dreamed of looked as bad as they did when he returned from under the mountain.

you expected to see him look in feyre’s direction.

but he didn’t even so much as turn his head in her direction.

your body froze as his eyes locked with yours.

helion’s hand was now on your thigh protectively. he threw a smirk in rhysand’s direction and nodded his head in greeting.

“fashionably late as always, rhysand. how delighted i am to see you.”

rhysand didn’t offer a cocky comeback, no. his mask was completely off. he was fixated on you.

“y/n… may i have a word?”

helion looked down at you, mentally telling you with his amber eyes that he could handle it. you offered a reassuring kiss to his cheek and shook your head before slipping out of his grip and standing up.

“hallway?” you asked rhysand. your voice conveyed little to no emotion as you stared back awaiting his response.

without another word, rhys followed you out of the two grand doors and into the hallway. he stood with his back to the wall, crossing his arms and staring down at his shoes.

“i don’t even know where to start, y/n.”

“you can start with telling me what gave you the nerve to show up into my home after wrecking my old one.”

his eyes closed as he nodded, inhaling deeply as if to recollect his thoughts.

“i’m sure you’ve heard.”

you nodded, pursing your lips. “is that why you’re here? to treat me like a second choice? your poor mate rejected you so you go crawling back to your poor wife who’s just so lost without you?”

“y/n, please… it isn’t like that,” his deep voice trembled. “i have been driving myself insane. i go back to that night every second i’m awake, and when i’m asleep i dream of what i should have done. i fucking miss you. i fucked up. i’ll be the first to admit that. but… you wouldn’t understand.”

you scoffed and crossed your arms, looking up at him. “and why is that?”

“you’ve never experienced the feeling to have a mate, y/n. it fucks with you. it clouds your judgement.”

“it’s funny you’d say that, rhysand.” you jumped, helion’s voice from behind you surprising you as his familiar hand rested on your shoulder. “it’s actually hilarious.”

rhys’ lips formed a deep scowl as he sized up the high lord. “care to explain?”

“allow me to enlighten you, fellow high lord.” helion sighed, lazily smiling at you and brushing your hair behind your ear before looking back at rhysand. “i just think it’s funny that you justify your poor judgment by pulling the mate card, but i’m her mate and i cannot imagine bringing her into my home where i had a wife without having an adult discussion first.”

mate? you almost choked on air. you looked at helion, meeting his adoring eyes as they stared into you. he tugged on the invisible strings between your souls with a cocky grin. “i would have loved to have told you properly, but you must forgive me. i just had to let him know how good of a gift he gave me.”

“y/n…” rhysand pleaded for your attention, attempting to reach out for your hand but you only moved closer to helion.

“you know rhys, you’re wrong.” you mumbled through tears, a mixture of pain and overwhelming joy. “i can now say i know how you felt, but i still would have never done that to you.”

your voice was breathy and brittle but you continued. “i am sorry that you didn’t get to experience a relationship with feyre after all of this, but i was good to you. i did all in my power to make up for not being your mate. i spent so much of my love on you that i didn’t think i’d ever be able to love again.” you looked up a helion and cupped his face. “but i have a second chance. a chance with someone who would never disrespect the way you did.”

helion grabbed your wrists and pressed his lips to your forehead. “i’ll let you say your goodbyes, then we can discuss the elephant in the room.”

you nodded, wanting to get it over with and enjoy your time with your newfound mate, buy you couldn’t find it in your heart to leave rhysand like this.

as helion existed, you looked at your ex-husband.

“rhysand, i gave you the chance to be happy. i do not owe it to you to come back and fix what you willingly broke. but you owe it to me to be happy. i am truly and deeply sorry that things didn’t work out for us. i would have forever loved them to…”

rhysand nodded, sniffling and wiping his tears. “you will forever be the best thing that had walked into my life, y/n. i will regret what i did for as long as i live.” he choked on a sob as you wrapped your arms under his, resting your head on his shoulder and smoothing his hair.

“don’t say that, rhysand. i got a second chance, and you will to. but you need to let me go before you can heal. this is your chance.” you whispered into his shoulder, tears falling down onto his black shirt. his grip tightened around you and he cried into the crook of your neck.

“let me go, rhys. you’ll be okay. i promise.”

“i don’t know how, y/n. how do i let you go?”

you looked into his eyes and brushed a teardrop with your thumb.

“i asked myself the same thing when you left me for her, rhys. there is no easy way. you just have to. can you try for me, please?”

he sighed and sniffed, letting you go physically before walking a few steps away. he looked back at you, but you were already wiping your tears and heading back to see helion.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar fic #rhysand x y/n #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhys x you #rhys acotar #rhysand x you #rhysand imagine #helion x reader

364 notes · View notes

galazry · 8 months

Text

Till Death Do Us Part

pairing: Wanderer x gn!reader genre: fluff...? content: Just like they said, "until death do us part." word count: 654 a/n: sooo... have you guys heard the song "Until Death Do Us Part :)"? if you haven't, i totally recommend it. It's a very nice song. It is also the inspiration for this drabble. you know, tags are really important, huh?

As the music slows down, all heads turn to face the end of the hall. The mahogany doors swung open to reveal you clad in white. Everyone awed at how magnificent you looked. The brightest smile, that could light up the entire world, adorns your face. How could you not when today was the day you were to be wed with your beloved?

Wanderer stood there, his indigo eyes watch as you slowly walked down the aisle. You had always looked so magnificent in his eyes, but today takes the cake. A bouquet of roses, orchids, and jasmines nestled in your hands, though beautiful, it didn't compare to how beautiful you were. God, you really took his breath away.

The crowd of people slowly disappeared in his view as his eyes zones in on you, You were like the precious jewel in the crowd, so perfect, so wonderful. With each step you took, Wanderer remembers all the time he had spent with you, his best friend— all the laughter and joy you both shared, the ups and downs, the tears and secrets you both shared— all lead to this very moment. The yellow tulip in his pocket droops a bit, before he hastily fixes it. It was a special day, so even the littlest mishaps must be corrected. He wants to look perfect, after all.

Once you reach the end of the aisle, he let out the breath that he didn't know he had been holding. He felt faint seeing you up close as he felt tears pricking his eyes. The pastor's words fall onto deaf ears and Wanderer could only hear both his heart beating, and the soft giggles you let out.

The images of waking up by your side every morning and falling asleep with you in his arms every night; The way that you both would be spending all your time together, being each other's anchor, for the rest of your life. Images of you both sitting on the porch, as the sun sets on the horizon, the light refracting off your silver-like hair. Wrinkles on both of your faces and yet the love you both shared was still fresh.

"Do you [Y/N], take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

The words of the pastor brought Wanderer back to reality as he focused on your face. How he would treasure the bright smile you have right now, forever imprinting it into his brain as his favourite smile of yours.

"I do."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I pronounced you both, spouses for life. You may now both kiss."

The crowd cheered as the bells rung. Wanderer can't help but to let the tears that he had been holding back flow down his cheeks as he sees the love of his life kissing another man who had managed to make you his.

You both looked so happy.

All the scenarios he had imagined with you came shattering down. He won't be the one to wake up by your side. He won't be the one you build your life with for the rest of your life. He won't be the one to dance with you in the kitchen, listening to old sappy music, while the dim light makes your silver hair glisten. Wanderer just wished that he was the one that you chose to spend all your life with, but he couldn't blame you. It was his fault for keeping his feelings a secret and now, it was all too late and you will never know much affection he has for you.

Even so, just like he had promised under the moonlight, on that one summer day, he'll stick by your side.

Just as a best friend.

Until death do us part.

255 notes · View notes

cultofdixon · 9 months

Text

Keeping an eye on what you love

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • A peaceful moment in the prison led to feelings for a certain archer to resurface without fear of the next day. Oh how you didn’t realize until now, how observant one can be • SFW/Smol Angst • TW: Canon Violence / Minor Injuries

Requested by: @matilda4eve

You have to stop staring Y/N. It’s getting weird Y/N continued to do so as she sat at the tables in the quad watching some of the group reinforce the front fence of the prison. She had just finished her tasks for the day and took a load off, it just so happened to be at the right moment Daryl Dixon would be working outside in the remaining light hours of the day.

This has been going on for a while. Not saying many words to each other and Y/N simply watching Daryl exist doing whatsoever. It started at the quarry and now it’s happening at the prison, after all the chaos of course.

“Hey Y/N can I borrow you a sec?” Beth smiles asking for her help as Y/N nods returning the smile before getting up and following the young Greene.

Little did she know that the archer was watching the two’s interaction from where he stood with Rick and Glenn. He was lost in his own mindset and it took Glenn elbowing him to get him back.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothin’. We’re losing light”

“You’re the one that zoned out” Rick chuckles picking up the wooden plank and holding it in place for Glenn to secure.

The night crawls in and their group hung out in their cellblock talking amongst themselves like it was old times of enjoying the others company. But also talking about the future of the prison. Y/N was part of the conversation regarding the farm with Hershel and Rick while Daryl being beside them was talking to Glenn and Sasha about setting up a run. Even if both were in different conversations, Y/N still managed to listen in while focusing on what’s being told to her.

“We should get more people to come on the run with us if we are gonna tackle something like that” said thing was the abandoned camp that the military has set up in a shopping center. Daryl brought himself to lean against the wall when he accidentally bumped shoulders with Y/N.

For some reason, he felt a spark when such happened. He gave an apoplectic look to her as she shrugged it off with a smile before turning back to Hershel to talk about the pig pen he was talking about.

“Daryl?” Sasha snaps him out of his thoughts as he turned back to those he was talking to while his mind was still elsewhere.

“Sorry”

“No worries. But I agree. We should get at least three more people to come with us? Just for now let’s stick with smaller runs that won’t take much time” Glenn states before continuing to talk about such but the words started to sound like white noise, to both of them.

Neither of them really pulled away from the smallest form of human contact. All Y/N did was readjust but kept her shoulder against Daryl’s as he sat still for a moment thinking he was making her uncomfortable, until he adjusted and kept close.

This…is new

Y/N found herself on watch in the late morning which was new given she’s usually on nights. But as she stood leaning against the railing, she saw everything happening including the archer get a team ready to go for a run. She heard times before that he never saw himself as a leader, but he’s a natural one if he ever needs to step up.

“Yo!”

The young Grimes caught Y/N off guard as she looked a bit ridiculous when turning her attention away. Like she was trying to hide something but Carl knew he was a bit unexpected.

“Sorry, Y/N. Someone just wanted me to give you this”

“Someone? Carl you know almost everybody. Who made you their messenger?” Y/N laughs a bit taking the book from him as he shrugged her off to avoid answering her question. She examined the cover reading ‘DUNE’ on it and remembering a conversation she had with Michonne about how it was one of her favorites. So maybe it was Michonne that had Carl give it to her? Who knows…

“You think…uh”

“Uh?” Y/N smiles feeling the pages and enjoying the comfort she received from just holding the book in her hands.

“Can read it to Jude. Yknow like. When I’m around” the kid can read. He just didn’t want to admit that he wants that old comfort that he got from his mom.

“I’m watching Judith tonight while your dad is on watch duty. Maybe a few chapters tonight? Not like she’d understand”

“It’s cool I can hold her and dumb it down for her” Carl smiles getting another laugh out of his family.

As the two were watched for a moment from Daryl on the ground as he sat on his bike waiting for the others to get ready in their car. The second he heard a honk that snapped him out of his thoughts he whistled for the two’s attention catching them both feeling some unexpected anxiety.

“Open the gates!” He yells for their attentions as they quickly got out of the watchtower and did what was asked.

Before Daryl got far he stopped abruptly when he heard Y/N yelling at him.

“Be safe!” Y/N yells with a smile followed as Daryl froze in his place looking back at her with a nod before returning forward and fighting back a smile following the car.

It was the little things

Either watched the other work, try to include themselves (respectfully) in conversations that held the other, exchanged passing looks, and the more Y/N’s collection of books grew she found who they were coming from as part of her wished she didn’t catch Daryl in the act because he stopped leaving books for a few days.

Then on a cold rainy night in the prison, Y/N currently had Beloved in her grasp reading with the help of the weak solar powered lantern. She looked up when the light grew bigger to see Daryl with a flashlight and entering her cell without saying a word but laying a copy of Little Women on the edge of her bed. He didn’t wait for a ‘thank you’ or anything of the sort as he left after gifting her the book. She carefully set her book open facing down onto the floor before picking up the new one to feel something loose within the pages. She pulled out a note and it wasn’t a love note or anything, just asking her to join them on the run when it’s done raining. She smiled warmly anyway…it came from him.

It didn’t stop raining until three days later and Y/N found herself waiting by the cars with her gear expecting a few others to join but when Daryl came over ready to go looking to be the only one. Which is what he wanted.

“Got everything?”

“Yeah, uh” Y/N felt a bit skittish suddenly when given a moment entirely alone with Daryl. “Is it just us?”

Little did she know she’s spending most of the day with just him. Daryl gripped the strap to his crossbow nodding, a bit nervous himself. “Is that Uhm. Alright? Cuz I can—“

“Of course!” Bit too eager Y/N. Y/N smiles feeling a bit of a blush reach her ears as she carefully brushes her hair to cover them to avoid the obvious. “S-Sorry. It’s cool…just being us”

Now Daryl was the one trying to hide his blush by fully turning around heading toward his bike.

“Oh are we uh. Am I taking a car?”

The blush faded enough for him to look at her with a bit of an annoyed look. He didn’t mean it but it was a stupid question.

“Nah we’re takin’ my bike” He states approaching his bike as Y/N quickly got up from the bench she was waiting on to join him.

It was a little awkward at first when Y/N got on the back of his bike, after putting his crossbow on her back. She was hesitant to bring her arms around him not wanting to make him uncomfortable but Daryl was gentle when he grabbed her arms wrapping them around his torso. He felt her scoot into him being pressed up against him once her arms were secured.

“Ready?”

“Yeah! Uh who’s opening—-“

“We’ve gotcha!” Glenn smiles approaching the gates after making his and Maggie’s presence known to the two. His timing was always perfect.

Then they were off…and it was stunning.

Y/N at first kept a tight grasp when he first started to drive out of the prison. Then as the scenery passed, she loosen her grasp to lean back a little to watch the trees pass by one moment then an open field with few walkers and back to trees. It repeated as such until they were soon passing the big shopping district they were planning a huge run for and then the next being a few smaller ones which where they’ll be going through. Daryl felt her tighten around him when he hit a few bumps as he gently pats her hand to reassure her that he’ll go a bit slower and will always be safe.

An hour has passed and Daryl found himself watching Y/N more than their exit as he couldn’t help but notice the smallest things she’d do.

Being extra gentle when lifting items off the floor

Carrying a smile as she looks at the few pictures from the past

The excitement that shines bright in her eyes when she’d find books or anything that brought her joy

Daryl only snapped out of it when he heard wood give way. He quickly approached the hole finding Y/N had fallen through the second floor to the first.

Shit shit shit shit Daryl quickly ran away from the opening and down to her level pushing away an aisle’s shelving to get to her faster. “You okay?! It looks safe from when we cleared down here”

As the archer knelt to her as she sat up, she gave him a reassuring smile while rubbing her arm. Y/N instantly started to frown which worried Daryl even more.

“Y/N?”

“You’re bleeding” She frowns taking his arm to show him the cut on his person. He was in a hurry to get to her that he didn’t feel it happen. “We should get back…it needs stitches”

“Oh. Nah I don’t need Hershel to—“

“I can take care of it. We just need to go back. You and I can always come back another day” Y/N reassures him that today wasn’t ruined and Daryl couldn’t help but still be focused on what happened to her that she let him check her person after she put a temporary pressure dressing with the bandana he has and once she got up.

The two were quiet for the rest of the ride, given they were both hurt and Daryl felt awful even if it was an unpredictable thing most the time. Then as they sat in her cell later that night, the awkwardness seemed to have dissipated and it was just the silence and a bit of worry…while also taking notice of the small details.

The anxious archer watched how careful she was when stitching up his arm lac. She made sure not to pull too hard and would always double check her already done stitches. Y/N noticed while she was doing the stitches that he started to bite at his thumb. She’s noticed it before during stressful situations and he was doing it now and even when she finished putting the new bandage on.

“Am I good doc?” Daryl laughs nervously as he was about to start back up the habit when Y/N took both of his hands squeezing them. “I’m still sorry about…the floor breaking” he almost whispers as he brought his hand to gently graze the instant bruise she got from the fall.

“You didn’t break it, D”

“I know, sunshine. I’m just…still sorry”

There was that spark again. Bringing back the silence and the two getting a bit more confident with the other. But before either could make a move, Sasha interrupted the two to get Y/N’s assistance with something. Daryl had pulled away from her when she had came into the entry way of her cell.

Y/N gave him a short lived apologetic look before pulling her entire self away and leaving with Sasha. Daryl frowns wishing she didn’t interrupt. When will he get a chance like that again?

Well…

Another storm came through the prison as this one was the worse so far. Heavy rains and lightening. Rick had informed everyone outside when the storm was coming based on the changes in the weather through the day to go inside and chores will be taken care of once it passes.

Daryl had done a sweep inside their cellblock making sure his family was indoors but when he came to Y/N’s cell. He didn’t find her. He quickly ran down the steps about to ask Rick if he has seen her since he was coming back in but instead…

“We don’t have people on watch for the night cuz of the storm but I don’t think Y/N heard me when she’s the last on watch”

“I’ll go get’er” Daryl states not wasting another second but he was grabbed by Rick for another minute. “Yeah?”

“Bring a jacket, man.”

The archer soon found himself running through the rain while protectively holding his poncho. He entered the watchtower back expecting to meet Y/N coming down but when she didn’t, he thought something was up.

But she was simply outside leaning against the railing and watching the rain fall.

“Hey”

Y/N’s smile instantly came out when hearing his voice as she noticed his worried expression while offering his poncho.

“Hey yourself”

“Are you doing okay?” He frowns, feeling only a tad better when she put on his poncho. “You didn’t hear Rick callin’ for those outside to come in before the storm got worse”

“I Uhm. Kinda had a lot on my mind…and didn’t wanna be suffocated” Her smile faltered and it stung in his chest watching such.

“Oh…I can leave if yea need space…just—“

“I want you here” Y/N cuts him off, not wasting another moment like before as she looked away afraid the more she said that she would choke and he’d leave.

But he gently held her chin making her look him in the eye as he brought his hand to her cheek looking her in the eye. Wanting to hear every single word that came from her.

“You want me here?” Daryl felt that spark and it turned into loving warmth when she continued to look up at him trying to find the words but keeping that beautiful smile of hers. “I ain’t good with my words either, sunshine…I…”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Dixon”

“Good…” He exhales bringing his other hand to cup her other cheek before bringing his lips onto hers. The sudden kiss confirmed his feelings to her but she was still shocked he reciprocated said feelings.

Though when the archer parted, he gave her that loving look in his eyes that she’s been giving him since their moment started. “I’m in love with you, sunshine” and as he was about to go in for another kiss that she already started to lean in for…the flash of lightening and loud thunder that rang with it startled the two. Daryl didn’t hesitate to bring Y/N into his arms as she had already latched onto him the second she heard it.

“Maybe we should’ve confessed inside” Y/N laughs bringing her head to his chest feeling him tighten around her gently.

“Nah. This was perfect”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #sorry these are taking forever to put out

291 notes · View notes

sopiao · 7 months

Note

hey!! i love your writing so so much oh my god. your account is just perfect– if it's not too luch to ask (and forgive me if this is a little long) can i request headcanons with taskforce 141 + masc reader???

reader's kind of distant from the rest of the task force. they all get along with him just fine, does what he's asked to do on missions and all that, but he just feels kind of... absent. nobody really gets what his deal is, but they've gotten used to him. (BONUS POINTS IF HE ALSO WEARS A MADK HE DOESNT TAKE OFF THAT OFTEN... i wanna be cool too </3)

one day he wakes them up, and (to their surprise) tells them that he had a nightmare. this is the softest his voice has ever been and the most he's ever opened up– just. fluff and comfort lolz :p

FIRST TIME WITH FLUFF OR COMFORT!!!

i’ve always had a hard time writing this kind of stuff but i’m cleaning out my inbox so.. ^^

SORRRYYY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS >3<

it sorta implies angst?? like the nightmare is something serious of an issue?? idk

(Callsign will be Anon to make it easier for me ☹️)

Anon has always been distant, keeping some space and never really contributing to any of the conversations x But they still treasure him just as much as each other. They understand that some people just have a hard time with stuff like that or just don’t wanna get into it in general.

Soap and Ghost always makes constant visual checks to see if he’s still part of the group, since he’s always quite as a mouse it’s hard to keep track of him. Price would make sure to save a seat for him whenever he’s a little late. And Gaz would always check up on you from time to time.

They make sure you felt part of the team. Just because Anon doesn’t really have a deep connection with any of them doesn’t make him any less one of them.

—

In the middle of a mission they all had to sleep in a safe house for the night. A rather small one since they had to share a room together. Sleeping bags all lined up across the room. One soldier found it hard to get at least a wink of sleep. Price’s and Soap’s loud and grumbling snoring didn’t really disturb them since it was practically white noise to him now.

After half an hour Anon finally found the ability to be carried into rest. It was peaceful for a while. Until he woke up violently, body twitched when he woke up from how intense it was. He found that it was hard to keep his breathing under control and try to focus on one thing. Physically and emotionally.

He put this off as a last resort and tried everything to calm himself down. But when all else failed he turned to Ghost beside him. Reaching for his mask and hastily pulling his mask over his head, hesitating before bringing his hand up to shake Ghost awake, he’s a light sleeper anyway.

“What? What happened?” After a second to comprehend what was happening he sat up and looked around, thinking something happened, like someone broke in or someone found them. But once he saw his comrade’s, somewhat, relaxed but worried eyes and stopped.

Sitting up fully and comfortably, he asked if everything was alright. Judging by his lack of response Ghost nodded, immediately understanding and not making a big deal out of it since this is way out of his comfort zone.

“Go on.” He nodded his head, sitting next to him and relaxing against the wall, still half asleep but still willing, very willing, to listen and comfort if needed. Ghost listened intently as Anon began to explain and mumble out what happened in his sleep.

“Uhm.. Fuck— Now that I’m thinking about this, it sounds stupid—” Looking down and fiddling with the edge of his sleeping bag Anon’s interrupted by Ghost.

“Just tell me. You’ve already got me up” He’s probably not the best one for comfort, but he knows he’s trying, not the best with his words, but he’s willing to listen.

It stuns him for a second with his bluntness, but chuckles lightly, knowing that he really does wanna listen. He starts to explain, second guessing himself every couple sentences, but slowly he gets more comfortable with sharing.

Halfway through Soap starts to stir and move in his sleep, making both stop and just stare. Turning around to see both sleeping bags empty, Soap immediately sits up and searches for them, only to see them off the side, sitting together.

“Oh.. shit..” He calms himself down, both Ghost and Anon look at each other before looking back at Soap. He slowly sits up and crawls over to where they are, next to Anon so he’s between Ghost and Soap.

“What’re you two doin’ up?” Somehow his accent is deeper when he’s half-awake. Slouching back against the wall, almost leaning on Anon’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t sleep after.. a.. uhhh… nightmare” Anon was hesitant to explain, wondering if waking up his friends were really worth it, hoping that they wouldn’t make fun of him. Soap just hums in response.

“Nightmare? Al’right. Continue” To Anon’s surprise, Soap wants in too. He looks back to Ghost who just shrugs and nods, silently telling you that it’s up to him whether he wants to share or not.

Before Anon can even start again, both Price and Gaz wake up, both confused as fuck, but following along, dragging their sleeping bags over to him. They were all now wide awake, Price laying back in his sleeping bag, arms crossed, half-awake but still lucid enough to understand stuff coherently.

Anon started to explain again, relaxed to see how supportive his teammates are with how little they really know about him. Once he got to a certain part of the nightmare, the part that really made it a nightmare, his lungs felt tight once again.

Suddenly his mask felt so thick and concrete, he had to lift it up to his nose to breathe. Blubbering out apologies between breathes as they tried not to stare too much.

“Nah, nah. You’re fine” Ghost reassured him through his mutters, rubbing his back to try and soothe him. It didn’t, but it was something. Something that they were there to listen.

“Don’t force yourself if you don’t wanna tell” Gaz nodded, not wanting to force Anon to go too much out of his comfort zone, in the chance that he changed his mind and wasn’t okay with sharing this kind of stuff.

“I’m fine.. fine” Anon nodded his head, realizing how much of his face he exposed and tried to cover it up with his hands so he can still breath. But for those couple seconds that his lower half of his face was open. A large, old, scar decorated his lips, diagonally going from the top right to bottom left, almost reaching his chin.

With something so unexpected being exposed, the fact that Anon even reached out, it made them all alert to watch out for his emotions and how he’s feeling. But what was most surprising for them, was how he talked. It was usually so stern and short, always getting straight to the point. Almost robot like. But now, it’s softer, more warm but sorta confused, he fumbled in his words a little but it was just so different than how he is out on the base.

An hour has passed, but now that all of that is out of Anon’s head, and everything, almost everything, was off his chest, the sleepiness started to catch up to him. In the midst of Ghost explaining how he was feeling and the possible reason for it, Anon was already asleep, snoring softly as he struggled to keep up.

They knew that this was something you’d never do. So it was a sort of shock for him to break his blocked off demeanor. But it made them feel good that Anon even considered venting. Even if it was something small like a complaint or something annoying, they wanted him ti let it out.

(this has been in my drafts for forever T-T)

220 notes · View notes

kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year

Text

Man-Sized

3/9 Hope is a Dangerous Thing

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

She googled the name Simon Riley and found close to nothing. He wasn't on Facebook or any other social media platform, and she was pretty sure he had given her a false name until a short news article popped up. It was in some Manchester local paper, and from almost 20 years ago. He had won medals in local school olympics, and even with the black and white raster image and a 20 year younger, estimated 90 pounds skinnier Simon Riley, she could recognize that jaw and those eyes.

Days passed by, and he sent her a message every night. They communicated only through text – he never called. It felt like she was living in the turn of the century, the way he refused to use social media or any messaging app. He asked her how her school was, what classes she was taking at the moment, and if work was good. She sent her a photo every night before going to sleep; it simply became a habit. Some were cuter, some were naughtier, but he always expressed his gratitude with a sly, sexy comeback that made her think she might actually be the only girl Simon was texting with.

He rarely disclosed anything about his work, and never sent another picture even when she tried to request one in a roundabout way. She soon stopped fishing for more details of his work because he always redirected the conversation elsewhere. All she knew was that he was used in some special operations of a private, international company. And from what she could deduce from that one single picture he had sent her, the company he worked for had a lot of money.

The headset, the tactical gear, the weapon she distinguished with another profound googling session to be some sort of an assault rifle… All that shit spoke the language of international investors with certain political interests. Simon was doing something that most likely included hybrid warfare, clandestine operations, dealing with nuclear threats and bio-weapons and whatnot.

She wondered why he had been so trusting; after all, she knew his whole name now and knew it wasn't an alias but his real, actual childhood name. Not that she was any kind of threat. Perhaps that was why…

But what made her a bit depressed was that he also didn't seem to regard her as someone he needed to protect. By staying in contact with him, she supposed she was taking at least some kind of a risk. But Simon didn't seem to care. It was both exciting and infuriating to keep in touch with a man like him.

After six days of excited, heated messaging, he sent a text "Off to work." It wasn't that cryptic; she figured it meant that he wasn't to be disturbed or that he wouldn't be able to talk for a while.

A while… that turned into a week.

She found herself zoning out in dull classes, thinking about what Simon was doing right now. Was he infiltrating some foreign military base, or going on a mission to prevent a hijacking, or storming a terrorist compound, or… whatever the fuck soldiers like himself did.

She began her day with a caffeine overdose and then went to listen to some professor talk about medieval manuscripts or Dante Gabriel Rossetti or curse tablets of ancient Rome, only to realize she was thinking about Simon firing his assault rifle in another continent with a skull mask on. She kept thinking about whether he was in danger, whether he would come back, whether she would ever see him again.

The while turned into another week, and she began to get anxious. Should she text him and ask how he was doing? Ask “You still at work?” or “What about that date?”

The last message she had sent was a reply to his work announcement. Have fun! — from 17 days ago.

17 days.

Was he dead?

His message It's your fault if I get killed now seemed more like a gloomy prediction of a future without Simon Riley.

But at the beginning of the third week of silence, she realized she had just been an idiot. Simon wasn't dead or injured or taken prisoner or anything like that.

He had simply forgotten about her.

He had realized she was not a Bond girl after all, but just another boring chick. He had found someone better. Something like that. A man like him could have pretty much any woman on this planet if he wanted to.

That was just the way the world was built.

She wouldn't say that she was depressed. She wouldn’t admit that she was devastated. She just needed a little time to clear her head.

It was difficult to sleep, and school felt more boring than ever. Work just reminded her of him. One day, she nearly fell from the pole while doing a simple straddle because she saw a man looking like Simon walk in the club.

He had given her an exorcism, only to replace the demons that haunted her with himself. Now she needed an exorcism from Simon, but no one knew how to do that.

She just needed to give it time, sleep it away, study it away… Distractions filled her day, and still, she refreshed their conversation every night before going to sleep, as if it was a fault in her phone that prevented his messages from reaching her. And felt like a stupid bitch, a lovesick fool while doing so.

And then, one Tuesday afternoon, after almost four weeks, he appeared at her uni.

She was arriving from a class that had just ended when she hurried past a man she had been pining for for 25 days.

"You working tonight?"

Hearing that voice in a place she had least expected to hear it made her shoulders shoot up and her breath get caught in her throat as she stopped and turned around.

"Jesus…- You scared me."

He laughed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Boo."

"When did you… What are you doing here?"

She didn't say I'm happy to see you. I missed you. That would've sounded too desperate. Right? Even after 25 days.

He looked her up and down, and her knees felt like pudding.

"I like to stalk school girls."

She tried to suppress her smile. God, she had missed that cheeky humour.

"Pervert. No, I don't have a shift tonight."

"Then I can finally take you out on that date."

It was like her dreams had suddenly come true in one single minute. She went from a bird with a broken wing to Icarus flying toward the sun.

"What do you have in mind?"

"You'll see."

He was even taller than she remembered, broader, even when he was wearing all black. People were staring at them, staring at him, because he certainly didn’t look like someone who studied in the Art and Culture Department.

"How did you even know I was here right now?"

"Doesn't really need a rocket scientist to find that out, luv."

Right. But the fact that he had made the effort to dig up what classes she took, when and where, and then come and surprise her like this, made her heart ache. He gave her another once-over, and she squeezed her bag against her chest like that could shield her from the searing gaze.

"You look hot."

And that definitely made her blush… She was an umptieth year student and didn't bother to take pains anymore when she dragged herself in the class. She had her comfiest ballerinas on, her hair was tied to a simple ponytail, and she had no foundation, no mascara, only a bit of her favourite lipstick on. She was wearing a huge, flowy skirt the color of a Halloween pumpkin and a black, simple turtleneck — while perhaps neat and cute in this environment, to him, she would've thought she looked more like a librarian. Far from a hot Bond girl who danced at a strip club with curled hair and cat eye makeup.

"Um.."

"Such a diligent little student."

It seemed he did have an actual thing for school girls, even if they were almost 30 years old. She would never have guessed that this would send him itching. If Simon preferred the girl next door look to her being half-naked on a stage with a pole, then perhaps she did have a chance after all.

"I knew you were a good girl but I didn't know- "

"Stop it, people can hear you," she hissed while, in truth, feeling quite exalted by that good girl talk. She grabbed him by the arm, and he allowed her to guide him out of the building while looking perfectly content with himself and what he was doing to her.

They began the walk to her place so she could shower and get changed for whatever he had in mind for that date. The complete turnaround in her mood, the shot of hormones and giddy feelings and butterflies in the stomach left her feeling shaky. Even the colors seemed more vivid all of a sudden. It was a bit frightening how one single person could change the whole world in a second, have a remedy for all the shit she had been rolling in for the past week. Or two weeks. Or three.

"Sorry that it took so long. Work was... a bit of a challenge."

"It's okay."

Well, it really was not, but she would rather die than tell him that.

"It's better if you don't know where I am and when. I hope you understand that."

Safety measures for her sake after all. Now she felt almost flattered that he hadn't told her he was coming. Jesus...

"Yeah. Sure," she tried to sound neutral about it, but the sudden shyness that had taken over made it sound like she was being passive-aggressive. "I mean, I didn't expect you to entertain me every night."

Well, that sounded even more sour and pathetic… She snapped her mouth shut and tried to calm her heart that was racing from his presence, his scent which had been only a memory until now.

"So, what will you become when you graduate? A historian?”

"I’ve always wanted to work in a gallery. You know, as an art curator or something like that."

"Hm. Ambitious."

She wasn’t entirely sure if he was mocking her, but she laughed. In the culture business, it was a sought-after position, but of course it wouldn't seem like much to someone who wasn’t familiar with the art world.

"What about you? What do you wanna be when you grow up?"

"Alive."

Simon's humour was dark, but after seeing that picture of him, she knew he meant what he said. And she realized that it wasn't perhaps one of her most brilliant ideas to get attached to a man who could actually be killed.

When they got to her place, she went straight to the shower and left the door open, secretly wishing that he would be the one to sneak in this time. But he never showed up, and when she stepped into her small living room, she found Simon had dozed off on her sofa. He barely fit her neat little couch and was lying on his stomach, with one hand dangling out and brushing the floor. The soft snore made it clear that he was very tired and not just chilling in a very relaxed position.

It was a cute sight, downright adorable.

But it also hurt her heart. What made him so exhausted, time after time, month after month? He wouldn’t tell her, and it was futile to ask. The man was overloaded with stress and things ordinary civilians had no clue about. She had no clue about.

He must think of her as a harmless little mouse who knew nothing of the world's darkness. And she didn't. She had her own demons and traumas, but didn't everybody? Simon, on the other hand, seemed to have the combined lives of a gladiator, spy, and war veteran. He had access to a reality that was out of sight and mind for the rest of the civilized world.

Was Simon a good guy or a bad guy? Was he a hero that saved people, or a soldier who executed orders of rape, torture, and kill?

These were questions she had never thought she would need to find answers to. The guys she had dated had been equally as harmless as her. If not even more harmless. And that was saying something.

When she had dressed, she walked to him and heard how the snoring stopped immediately.

Simon was awake and listening. He had woken just from a few soft steps, from her tiptoeing and kneeling beside the sofa, and she wondered if he had been trained for this; to wake up when someone was sneaking up on him. The thought was both gruesome and spine-tingling.

But she hadn’t meant to steal his precious sleep. And if he was so exhausted, he should sleep and not take her out…

Now that he was supposedly awake, she dared to raise a hand and caress his back, remembering what he had said in the shower when she had stroked him. His upper back was tense, even when he was lying relaxed like this, and she felt pity: someone should give this man a back rub, a whole body massage to get those muscles loose. Get some blood flowing. She caressed him with the back of her palm, then slowly traced every little vertebra of his spinal column with two fingers.

He was using both one of the cushions and her sweater as a pillow. Something in the sight of him pressed against her old, snug woolen shirt made her hand come to a halt somewhere on his lower back.

“Don’t stop,” he muttered, sleepy against the softness of her home and hand. She had to fight back the reflexive flinch: his voice was always so rough, even when he whispered and the words were muffled by the support his head was resting on.

“You have tension in your back,” she told him, not knowing why she was whispering too. It wasn’t like he was about to dart off from a sudden noise.

He merely purred for an answer, still sounding drowsy and half-asleep. How disarmed and defenseless he seemed now… On that little couch, under her gentle touch.

“I need to buy you a massage gift card for Christmas,” she blurted and regretted it immediately.

Buy him a Christmas present? As if they were some kind of a couple already… As if this wasn’t barely the second time they were spending time together.

At first, Simon didn’t show any signs of wanting to escape that hopeful suggestion of them becoming something more than just fuck buddies someday. But then he suddenly turned, and she took her hand away.

“I’d rather have you massage me,” he offered with a soft smile and a dreamy stare.

Good. Good, everything was good..

She hadn’t ruined it, hadn’t lost another poker game to this man. She still had cards to play.

She noticed the obvious signs of his arousal and felt wild in the breeze of the moment. Or perhaps she wanted to brush away what she had just said — and make him forget it too.

She reached for his pants to take them off, and he helped her with them, clearly having no objections to what she was about to do. Which was giving him a blowjob that would erase the traces of him thinking he had an obligation to buy her a present for this Christmas.

When she took him in her mouth, he grabbed the edge of the sofa as if the situation was a little too much for him.

"Didn't see that coming…"

His voice had an edge of trepidation to it. Uneasiness, almost worry. But he must've liked it, for he eased into it shortly after, slumped back onto the couch, and spread his legs in relaxation. She guided her frustration and doubts into the blowjob, tried to turn into someone else — to that girl from the stage. The Bond girl he had met, the woman of his dreams: just anything but a meek little woman who rarely left her house except for class or work.

She was fully present, not sloppy at all, almost felt like a magician as she forced groans out of him and felt his balls pull taut under her touch. He would never fit inside her mouth completely, but she tried her best.

She sure as hell made an effort.

"You must've really missed m- ah… Fuck.."

It was pretty evident that he enjoyed it. After those weeks at work, perhaps this was what he had wanted all along? To come somewhere safe, some place completely different, and throw himself on a soft couch for a quick nap before some homely girl came to give him a few caresses and a blowjob.

She swirled her tongue around the tip, gave him a little suck, then took him in as far as she could and felt him all the way at the back of her throat.

"Bloody hell Sarah..."

It couldn't be that good…

But he was all but melting under her tongue and touch. Was it just that it had been so long, or was this a rarity in his life? She'd thought that women touched him often, but apparently, they didn't. Or then he didn't allow them to.

Perhaps Simon didn't allow himself to be touched by women. He made love to them and fucked them against a wall in the shower, but he didn't get attention and caresses and blowjobs.

Well, this was news.

It didn't take too long before he came with a hoarse grunt that nearly made her shrink from him. It sounded both sublime and painful, and sent ripples of gold in her stomach and a pang of wet heat between her legs. The load was generous, but she didn't pull away, briefly wondering how awkward it would be to choke on his cum the second time they met. It had been a while for him, then, and she felt disappointed. It wasn't anything special after all, merely the cause of him not having had the opportunity, desire, or time to fap.

His chest was heaving, and she had made a mess in her attempt to swallow it all while keeping everything under control. With Simon, she wasn’t in control, and she had no choice but to accept it.

He reached a hand to absentmindedly caress her hair, and she rested her head on his thigh — but they didn't stay that way for long, for he stirred, and she had to draw back.

"Your turn," he suddenly rose from the couch while still looking like someone who was about to pass out. He got out of his pants, pulled his shirt over his head, threw it somewhere on the floor, and hauled her up in a bridal carry. He literally swept her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom, and she must’ve looked like a deer in headlights.

Because Simon was and wasn't safe.

He had strength, charisma, and forearms to die for, but he didn't feel like someone she would choose to tell her every secret, someone who she would call if she needed help. He came into her world and walked out of it like there was a swinging door between the two of them.

He didn't commit. Which meant that she couldn't commit. Which furthermore meant that she had trouble getting wet.

As infuriating as it was, dark and dangerous didn't exactly turn her on. This wasn't dating; this was more like an adventure or a roller coaster ride. She didn't know what phase they were in because the usual dating-related stuff was off the board. There was nothing to hold on to.

He laid her on the bed, crawled next to her, then reached a hand under another skirt she had chosen for going out with him.

"Perhaps later," she whispered as his hand was already traveling up her thigh. She almost took those words right back when she saw the obvious hurt flash in his eyes. She didn't know if she had de a chip to his pride or if it was something else, but he clearly hadn't expected her to say no to him again.

"Why won't you let me touch you?"

"I…"

She didn't know what to tell him.

What could she say? That she felt unsafe with him? That wasn't even entirely true.

She couldn't tell him that she needed trust and commitment while knowing he couldn't give them to her. Her shy silence stretched on, and the frightened state she was in only worsened when he stared at her, tilted his head, and wouldn't remove his hand.

Then he kissed her — unhurriedly, languidly, and the hand just stayed there under the skirt, pressed against her thigh, firm and broad. Only after she answered his kiss with a shy hunger did he move it further up, up — until it came to rest on her sex.

The kissing finally did it: at some point, she could feel the sudden rush of wetness down below. Her lips trembled when he pulled away only an inch and looked into her eyes while their breaths danced in between their lips. His palm moved only a tiny bit; he was soothing her, coaxing her to open for him. Eventually, his fingers met the soaked spot on her panties, and she swallowed. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his lips, just a tiny little hint that he knew he was doing it right.

"Did you like the picture I sent you?"

Oh fuck.

"Um, yeah.."

He pressed a finger against the center of her wetness, covered only by the thin fabric, and she tried to draw breath as inaudibly as she could.

"Did you get wet?"

So fucking cocky…

"Yes, she whispered against his lips, which finally curved into a small smile.

"Come again?"

"Yes."

The smile widened into a smirk as he moved to slip underneath the fabric. Her folds parted without effort as he guided his finger over her, the length and thickness now resting on her entrance and all the wetness that only increased by the second. She was blinking and breathing shallowly against his mouth while he simply continued to drink in every sign of her unease and arousal.

"Is that why you asked for more?"

Oh God…

"Yes. Would you just-"

"Begging already?"

He was so… infuriating. So cocky, so damn self-confident… It drove her crazy.

"No."

Something flickered in his eyes, a twinkle of endearment.

And not just a twinkle. It was bold, blazing mischief. Shit… She was fucked.

"I'll make you beg."

Oh my God…

He moved even lower, then dipped one finger in, so deep that she was left blinking again. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she realized she must be looking like a fish on dry land. He pulled out, and she wanted to protest, but her pride stood in the way. The moisture was spread all over her folds, especially over the tight, sensitive bud that had been left without attention for so long from the sadness and hopelessness, from her having thought Simon wouldn't come back. She couldn't even touch herself because she had already gotten used to thinking about him when she did that.

A shaky little moan finally hit his lips, and he kissed her again while drawing a circle on the bud, sweeping a few strokes across her folds, then driving two fingers in. Slowly, lovingly. The laced fabric that was stretched to give him space must be sodden by now, but he wouldn't pause to take it away. He just continued to fuck her slowly with his fingers while holding that kiss, holding her steady with his mouth only.

He had taken her hesitation as a challenge, and she wondered if she was some kind of a challenge to him overall. If something in her made him want to break her, get to the bottom of her, get a reaction out of her… And he was succeeding splendidly. She was everything but frigid now. He only needed a finger or two to make her like this. And perhaps that voice of his. That stupid cockiness.

He left her mouth and pulled out, only to finally reach for her poor underwear and take it off. She didn't object this time, but when he moved between her legs and she realized he was about to replace those panties with his face, she jerked away from him.

"Hold on…"

"Nah. You hold on."

He wouldn't relent. He simply pressed his mouth against her pussy which, by now, was wet to the point of leaking, and grabbed hold of her hips as if to remind her that she couldn't get away even if she tried. She could only sink back to the bed and let him have his way: to embark on a mission to make her beg.

And she did beg, eventually, when he pressed his tongue flat against her and plunged it inside, and sucked her clit and did it all with such infuriating patience and laid-back attitude that it made her squirm against him. He caressed her with his tongue, those lips, caressed her with his thumb before guiding it inside as well while kissing her thighs, now wide open for him.

She didn't beg with words, but she did coat the air with sighs and moans that must've stroked his ego like nothing else. Even the stubble did its job: it didn’t sting. It only drove her more mad. She could hear him chuckle against her occasionally, could feel him smile in her pussy as he ruined her with that mouth. Even the intrusive thoughts of whether Simon had done this to dozens of women before her and would do it to dozens after her didn't prevent her from approaching the peak in minutes, mere minutes…

Just as she was about to grasp his hair for support, to brace herself for the incoming, he withdrew. The bastard rose to sit and left her shaking and whimpering.

"Wh-… why did you…"

He was licking his lips, smiling, and stroking himself, fully erect again. The fact that he was hard from pleasing her with his mouth, left her feeling even more weak.

"You want it?"

"Fucking hell, Simon." She knew how she must look: dripping wet, with desperation in her eyes and a shaky curse on her lips.

"Is that a beg?"

He placed the thick tip to her entrance, and she throbbed and writhed against him like she was about to come from the slightest touch of that cock.

"Yeah… Yes, please, Simon, just-"

He granted her plea to the full before she had even finished it. The spread, the feeling of being filled with him, was so exquisitely divine that it only took less than five thrusts before she came.

He looked annoyingly pleased while watching her have one of the most powerful, gratifying, leg-shaking orgasms of her life. Perhaps it was only a proper way to greet a man who had been inside her head for so long: who was finally inside her for the first time in four desolate weeks. She didn't feel wild or raw now; she felt like molasses, like puddle of tears, a boneless, limp heap of muscle from all that love and gentle fucking.

After the tension, tremblings, and shaky sighs had left her, and she was merely panting, he finally stopped. Lodged deep inside her to feel the rest of the waves, he was still watching her. The stare of those warm eyes was too much to bear after another implosion that made her even more attached to this man.

"If you call me a good girl, I swear I'll slap you again," she whispered. The body against him shook from silent laughter. He kissed her again, buried his fingers in her hair, gave her another rock of his hips. And then, suddenly stopped just to whisper in her ear…

"That's my good girl."

Fuck….

It was useless. Utterly, completely useless with Simon.

"Ok… Ok." She tried to gather herself while he was still inside her, still filling her and shielding her with his body. "You're asking for it, so I'm not giving it to you."

"Poor me," he answered with that gruff, heart melting voice.

She was laughing again, smiling for the first time in days. Beaming, even…. Probably looking like a brain-dead idiot.

"This was a good date. I had fun."

In her opinion, it was the best date ever, but would she let him know it and stroke that ego further? Hell no.

"This wasn't what I had in mind," he hummed while moving to kiss her neck.

"What if we just stayed here for the rest of the day?"

"Wouldn't mind that."

“You know.. I... really missed you,” she finally confessed with a whisper while he was preoccupied with her neck; safely somewhere else than right there in front of her, staring her in the eyes, gathering evidence of her vulnerability. He huffed a chuckle against her skin in response, sounding close to relieved.

"I missed you too."

#simon riley x oc #ghost x oc #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x oc #mw2 smut #ghost fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female oc

439 notes · View notes

ginnsbaker · 9 months

Text

Maybe You Were The Ocean

Summary: Wanda was... an open-ended chapter in your life.

Word count: 6.3k+ | Tags: Heavy Angst, Character Death, Bittersweet ending

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by @gingiesworld:

Y/N and Wanda have been together for a while and Pietro calls Y/N one night, needing a lift home from a friends party. On that night they get hit by another drunk driver and Pietro dies on impact. As time goes on and the other driver is arrested, y/n still blames themselves for Pietro's death. Even though Wanda continuously tries to tell them otherwise but they won't listen. They then yell at her "why don't you blame me? You should hate me for your brother dying." Before walking out. Can be either a happy or sad ending buddy. Whichever you decide

Author's note: I changed some minor details in the request, hope you don't mind Gingie. Thank you for this gut-wrenching monster, it allowed me to practice writing in past tense (so out of my comfort zone lol). Title is from "black flies" by ben howard, listen to that as well when you read ;)

Masterlist

Now

You haven't been to something like this in what seems like ages.

That something being a wedding.

And if you were to keep count, you'd realize you've been to more funerals than weddings in your lifetime so far.

Your best friend looks like a goddess in her white dress—and anyone with eyes can see that the groom is the luckiest man on earth.

You’re fixing your hair in front of the mirror when she approaches, wearing a smile that you’ve never seen on her, a smile you’d never be able to put on her lips yourself. It’s a smile reserved for him—that lucky bastard.

She gently taps on your shoulder. “You’re going to make me cry if you keep looking so stunning,” she teases, her voice light with laughter.

You chuckle, your eyes meeting hers in the mirror. “It's your day, and nothing can overshadow how beautiful you look.”

“Promise me something,” she says suddenly, her bright eyes locking onto yours.

“Anything,” you reply without hesitation.

“Promise me that you won’t stop looking for this kind of happiness. Promise me you'll find someone who puts that same smile on your face,” she whispers.

Your throat tightens, words caught somewhere between heartache and hope. “I promise.”

Then

You were eight years old when you moved to a new neighborhood.

At that age, it felt like the scariest thing that had ever happened to you. Your parents divorced, your mother got full custody, and once the judge made that call, she packed up everything familiar and moved you to a new state: New Jersey.

It was what she could manage back then. This place was nothing like the spacious suburbs you remembered, and your new apartment building seemed no bigger than your old living room back in California. The place had just one bedroom, and it was hard to tell where the dining area stopped and the kitchen started.

You resented her in the way a child might, not fully grasping responsibility or consequences. You were upset she took you away from your friends and the comfort of your old life. You didn’t see back then the bruises hidden beneath her shirt, the ones your father left. You only learned about them when you turned eighteen. By then, your resentment had faded long ago.

A week after moving into that aged building, you encountered the twins next door, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff. Initially, you met Pietro when his mother sent him over with some food to welcome you and your mom to the neighborhood. It wasn't until you and Pietro became inseparable friends, spending every possible moment together, that you met Wanda.

When you did meet her, you weren't fond of her. She seemed aloof and mostly kept to herself. Unlike her expressive brother, Wanda seldom voiced her thoughts, making conversations with her feel uninspiring.

You and Pietro often clashed with Wanda over the television. You both wanted to play video games while Wanda preferred her sitcoms. Pietro would let Wanda watch her shows briefly before forcefully switching channels just to annoy her. Eventually, Wanda would retreat to her room in tears, and Pietro would steel himself for a reprimand when their mother returned home.

You would give Wanda a piece of chocolate because you felt bad, but you never asked Pietro to stop, fearing he might stop being your best friend. In return, Wanda would lend you her pocketbooks you’d never quite finish.

You hadn't realized it back then, but that dynamic would continue well into your teen years. With Pietro stirring up trouble left and right, you being caught in the middle, and Wanda, from a distance, observing you with cautious interest—perhaps wishing it had been her who brought the welcoming food instead of her brother.

Now

The wedding isn’t going to start for another hour. There have been delays due to the weather.

With the archways and open corridors adorned with blooming flowers and drapes, the venue looks nothing short of magical, even with the looming clouds. From where you stand, you extend your arm, letting the light drizzle kiss your skin. Each droplet feels like nature's way of playing with the day's emotions—adding both melancholy and charm.

Someone nearby remarks, “You know it's considered good luck when it rains on one's wedding day.”

You merely smile politely in response.

“Are you a friend of the bride’s or the groom's?”

“The bride,” you reply.

“Oh, fantastic! Maybe you can convince her to finally see she’s way out of his league!”

You shake your head at the joke. It’s not even the first time you've heard it today.

Then

It wasn't until you were fifteen and Pietro, seventeen, that the troubles you found yourselves in became more serious.

It had also been a few months since Pietro introduced you to drugs other than weed. At first, it was just an occasional joint passed around at a party or behind the school building. But Pietro wanted to try riskier substances. You weren't as keen but didn't want to be left behind by your best friend.

One evening, after trying something a bit harder than usual, you and Pietro were wandering the streets, laughing way too loud. In his intoxicated state, Pietro suddenly swung at a parked car with his bat, smashing it. Almost immediately, patrol lights shone bright, and stern police voices could be heard from almost everywhere. Pietro got cornered, but sheer panic made you bolt. Ditching your best friend felt terrible, but the terrifying thought of jail—especially knowing the mess it'd be for your already stretched-thin mom—made you keep running.

Still shaken, you made your way to Pietro's apartment, knowing you had to be the one to tell his mother. Her reaction was a storm of emotions—anger, fear, desperation. She demanded you stay with Wanda while she went to confront the nightmare at the police station.

“I think I'll just head home,” you murmured to Wanda, not wanting to impose any further.

She glanced at you, her eyes searching. “Have you had dinner?”

You hesitated, then lied. “Yeah, I ate earlier.” The truth was your mom had been away for work for three days, and the fridge was almost bare.

The small home you came to know felt overwhelmingly spacious as you sat alone, burdened by the guilt of having left your best friend behind. But mere minutes after sinking into your worn-out couch, a knock came at your door. Opening it, you found Wanda, a bowl of steaming paprikash in her hands and a soft smile on her lips.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said.

Your face lit up in relief at the sight of the food, more grateful than you could express. Just as you were about to thank her, your stomach betrayed you with an embarrassingly loud growl. Wanda let out a genuine laugh, and for a brief moment, you felt like a burden had been lifted.

“Guess I was right,” she teased, handing you the bowl.

As you eagerly began eating, Wanda settled opposite you, her expression growing serious again. “What were you two even thinking tonight?” she asked softly.

Swallowing, you sighed, “I tried to stop him, Wanda. But I couldn't talk him out of it.”

Wanda looked down, her fingers playing with a loose thread on the couch. “I don't blame you,” she finally said, her voice gentle, “I never do. In fact, I sometimes wonder how much worse he might've been without you around.”

A moment of silence hung between the two of you before Wanda whispered, more to herself than to you, “I'm so worried about next year.”

Curiously, you looked up from your food, "What do you mean?"

“Pietro's turning eighteen. He was supposed to get a baseball scholarship, but with this run in with the police, that’s probably hanging in the balance now…” she trailed off.

Your heart sank. You had known Pietro had big dreams tied to that scholarship, dreams that now seemed to be teetering on the brink. "And what about you, Wanda? What's your plan?"

Wanda took a deep breath, and her face lit up slightly, “I got accepted into Columbia. It's amazing, really. But…” She sighed, looking down, “Even with the scholarship they offered, I can't afford it. Plus, with everything going on, I think I need to be here, help Mom out, you know?”

“That's tough,” you whispered, feeling a pang of sadness for the bright future she might be putting on hold.

She nodded, “I'm thinking of starting work and maybe attending community college for a bit. It's not Columbia, but it's something.”

“That's... that's just unfair,” you whispered, setting down your bowl, your appetite momentarily forgotten. “If there's anyone who deserves to be at Columbia, Wanda, it's you.”

Wanda looked up, her eyes filled with something you didn’t recognize.

“I wish things were different,” you continued. “I've always thought of you as one of the most intelligent people I know. And not just smart, but kind... genuinely kind.”

She took in your words, the distance between you two closing slightly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving yours.

Then, with a flash of resolve, she inched closer. “There's something I want to do,” she began, her voice a whisper. “Something I've wanted for a long time, but it never seemed right. I don't think there'll be another perfect moment, another chance. Not after tonight.”

Before you could process her words, she was leaning in, the space between you disappearing. Your eyelids dropped, and for a heartbeat, everything else melted away as her lips met yours.

For the longest time, nothing made sense to you. That was, until Wanda Maximoff kissed you.

Now

Your best friend's walk down the aisle feels like the longest part of the ceremony–at least to you. The sight is so magical that time seems to stand still. When you snap back to reality, the priest is asking if there's anyone in the crowd who wishes to object to the marriage.

Nobody breaks the silence which lasts a mere two seconds. It's a rarity these days for anyone to object. They only happen now in movies. Modern weddings are more intimate, almost closed-door affairs. The guest list is meticulously curated, ensuring anyone with a complex history with the bride or groom remains absent.

You watch the ceremony unfold, every word, every shared glance, making you feel more trapped by the promise you made earlier. You'd promised to chase that very kind of happiness, the kind that was unfolding right in front of you. Yet as you watch, there's this nagging feeling at the back of your mind, asking if you ever really will.

What they have feels like a world apart from where you're seated.

You try to be genuinely happy for your best friend, and on many levels, you are. But you–you’re the last person to believe you deserve even a fraction of such a miracle.

Then

The kiss, as Wanda had promised, never happened again.

At least not for the duration they remained neighbors. Soon after, she and Pietro moved to another town for their studies. As for you, you and your mother also moved shortly after their departure, to a nicer neighborhood that’s closer to Manhattan where you also transferred schools.

For five years, you didn't see either of them. No calls. Nothing on social media. But that didn't stop them from occasionally drifting into your thoughts. Especially that memory of your first kiss.

That was until one night, while dining alone in a midscale Soho restaurant, you looked up to find Wanda as your server.

She wore a simple black uniform that most servers donned, but she carried it with an elegance that made her stand out. For a moment, you thought she didn't recognize you, as she professionally presented the menu and described the evening's specials without missing a beat. But then, as she was turning to leave your table, she paused and looked directly into your eyes.

“It's been a long time,” she said, her voice becoming more familiar as she shed her professional facade.

You nodded, struggling to find the right words. “Yeah, it really has. I didn't expect to see you here.”

She smiled, a little sadly. “Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. I... well, I needed a job while I finish my degree.”

You both chatted briefly, catching up on lost time, but Wanda was called away to attend to other patrons. As she bustled about, you found it difficult to focus on your meal, your gaze repeatedly drawn to her fluid movements around the room. Every so often, your eyes would meet, and she'd offer a fleeting smile, a touch of color rising to her cheeks.

After a while, you signaled for the check. Wanda was quick to bring it over, her fingers brushing against yours as she handed it to you.

“How's Pietro?” you asked tentatively.

Wanda hesitated, her eyes betraying her composure. “He was released from prison about a month ago,” she began, taking a deep breath. “It was tough, but he's doing better now. Trying to change, you know? And he... he misses you.”

Baseball never happened for him. College too. You wished you hadn’t lost your connection together. Perhaps you could have made a difference.

“I'm sorry,” you murmured. “Life just... took over.”

Wanda nodded with understanding, but remained silent.

As you prepared to leave, Wanda slipped a note along with your bill. It read, “It was good to see you again. Maybe we shouldn't wait another five years?”

Beneath these words, Wanda had also written down her phone number.

You waited a total of three days to call Wanda.

Wanda was... an open-ended chapter in your life. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been with other women since she stole your first kiss, but she remained a persistent afterthought in every relationship of yours that ended.

It didn't help that you'd left a bookmark in her chapter, aware that revisiting it had the potential to alter the trajectory of everything.

The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, it's me,” you hesitated for a moment, wondering if she would recognize your voice after all these years, “From the restaurant, the other night?”

There was a brief pause, then her tone softened, “I hoped you'd call.”

You were grinning so hard that it didn’t occur to you that you hadn’t responded to her in a while when she gently teased, “Took you long enough.”

“Three days isn’t that long,” you defended with a slight chuckle.

“Well, in the grand scheme of things, no. But in the context of us? It felt like an eternity,” she admitted.

And it truly felt that way. Finding Wanda over the past several years hadn't been impossible or even especially hard. Yet, both of you had consciously let things drift. You had navigated through college, and Wanda, well, she'd been engaged in whatever endeavors she had pursued.

But that night, it felt right to call her. And you hadn’t realized you were waiting to find her again.

You and Wanda scheduled to meet some time during the week and the conversation should’ve ended there. But neither of you wanted to hang up, and Wanda quickly asked about your college experience and the new neighborhood you'd settled into after their departure. By the time you both ended the call, nearly two hours had passed, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

It was evident; the bookmark you'd placed hadn't lost its page and it was easy to ease once more into its pages.

Now

The sun has set when the newly-wedded couple finally arrives at the reception.

You're seated at a table filled with strangers, but your best friend made sure to place you next to a woman she's been raving about—one she's suggested more than once you should date.

Her name is Natasha and she’s gorgeous beyond words. She's so striking that you find yourself wondering if she's even your type. Typically, you've steered clear of people who seem universally more attractive than you, a defense mechanism to sidestep lingering insecurities from over the years.

But as she leans into your personal space, you can’t help but respond to every question and laugh at every joke she throws your way.

Maybe it’s safe to let yourself enjoy this, even just for tonight.

Then

It was scarcely two weeks since that encounter with Wanda at the restaurant, and there you were, in her bed.

It was cramped and the air conditioning kept failing many times during the day.

But you didn’t care.

You had known this woman for almost your entire life, and you'd waited just as long to be in her bed like this: with your arm growing numb under her weight, her head resting on your chest, and your nose buried in her hair.

She stirred slightly, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest. “Did you ever think...?” she began, voice hesitant.

“Think what?” you prompted, adjusting slightly so you could see her face.

“That we'd end up here, like this?” she whispered, her eyes searching yours.

You smiled, thinking back. “I don't know if I let myself think about it. But I hoped.”

She chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. “I had a feeling you'd say that.”

The sheets beneath you were thin and had seen better days, but it didn't matter. The world outside, with its faint hum of city life, seemed so far away. Yet, the world outside seemed irrelevant. All that mattered was the rhythm of her breathing syncing with yours and the warmth of her body next to you.

Every so often, she'd shift, mumbling half-formed sentences that would make you chuckle.

“Is the penguin wearing a bowtie?” she murmured in her half-asleep state.

You laughed softly. “What penguin?”

“The one in my dream,” she mumbled, snuggling closer to you. “He's quite the gentleman.”

“Sounds like a classy penguin,” you teased.

She smiled faintly, her eyes still closed. “He reminds me of you, in a way.”

“Oh? So, I'm a penguin now?” you quipped, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“In the best way,” she whispered, pulling you closer. “My dapper penguin.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Only you would dream of something like that.”

“And only you,” she murmured, lips against your chest, “Would be there in that dream with me.”

While Wanda seamlessly reintegrated into your life, with Pietro, however, things weren't as straightforward. His past, speckled with run-ins with the law and a battle against addiction, made you and Wanda wary of him, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You could tell he was on the mend though, especially when six months into your relationship with Wanda, Pietro was able to hold a job for that same duration. Yet, his living situation with Wanda was far from ideal. Their apartment was snug, to say the least. His room was barely big enough to fit his bed.

You wished you could help, but with college expenses looming over you, your hands were tied. The thought of asking Wanda to move in with you played on your mind constantly. It seemed like the ideal solution: she would have a more stable environment, and Pietro could fully occupy the apartment, giving him some semblance of independence.

“What do you think about moving in with me? I know it's soon, but…” you asked her one night in the quiet confines of your dorm room.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to live here with you,” Wanda said, a bit amused at your suggestion.

“I didn’t mean here,” you replied. “I meant finding an apartment for the two of us.”

“That’s just adding more expenses, Y/N. I can’t let you do that when you can stay here without any costs,” Wanda countered.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “It's not about the money, Wands. It's about... us. Having a place of our own. And it would also give Pietro the whole apartment.”

Wanda's eyes met yours, searching for a hidden meaning. “Are you saying that because of Pietro? You think he's a burden?”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no, it's not that. I just... I see how much you worry about him.”

Your fingers found hers, lacing together as you both sat on the edge of your bed. “I get it,” you began, exhaling softly, “But I thought about Pietro too. He’d have the apartment all to himself. More space, more independence.”

Wanda's eyebrows knit together in concern. “And what if he…” she hesitated, searching for the right words, “Relapses or needs me?”

You tightened your grip around her hand. “We wouldn't be too far, Wanda. And maybe giving him that space and trust will help him more than you think.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I know you're thinking of what's best for all of us, but Pietro's situation has always been so... fragile.”

Wanda looked at you, her eyes filled with emotion. “I'll think about it,” she whispered.

“Take your time,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Whatever you decide, I'm with you every step of the way.”

“Promise me,” Wanda said, her eyes hardening, like she’s on the verge of tears or something worse. “Promise you’ll be with me always.”

You leaned in, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Always.”

Now

“It’s not everyday you find the person you’ll be spending the rest of your life with.”

Short and sweet, but that's your whole speech, cliches and all.

“I never thought I'd see the day,” you start, nodding towards the newlyweds with a smirk. “But hey, miracles happen.” You raise your champagne glass. “To two people who finally figured it out. Cheers.”

Your best friend laughs, rolling her eyes affectionately at you. “Trust you to keep things real,” she murmurs, clinking her glass with yours.

And that’s when you see her, amongst the cheering crowds.

In the middle of all the people, she stands out. Always has. It doesn't matter where or when, you can always spot her. Your heart skips a beat, just like it always does. It's like everyone else fades a bit, and she's the only one in focus.

Wanda Maximoff.

Pristine in a scarlet trumpet gown, her hair pulled into a tight, strict bun. A few stray tendrils of hair have escaped the bun, framing her face in a way that gives her an almost ethereal quality.

As you take a moment to really look at her, you notice the fine details. The way the light catches the small diamond earrings she wears, making them shimmer just so. The delicate curve of her collarbone, revealed by the gown's off-the-shoulder design. And her eyes—always her captivating eyes–that hold an entire galaxy, scanning the room until they land on you.

The shock in her eyes mirrors yours, and for a moment, everything else blurs. Your legs wobble, threatening to give way beneath you. The room's atmosphere grows thick, or perhaps you're just struggling to catch your breath.

Beside you, the bride and your best friend, Maria, notices your sudden change in demeanor and follows your gaze to its source.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

You manage a shaky head shake in response, pushing through the crowd to escape the room. But you can hear Maria, not too far behind, calling after you.

Then

“So, Maria,” Wanda began once your friend had left and it was just the two of you in the cafe. You had been so keen for the two of them to meet. But with Maria spending a whole semester in Germany as an exchange student, their only prior meeting had been a brief video call that interrupted one of your dates with Wanda.

“How did you two get so close?”

“Did I never tell you about that?”

Wanda shook her head, taking a sip from her now lukewarm cappuccino.

“Freshman year. We were looking for this book and it only had one copy in the school library, and believe it or not, we reached for it at the same time,” you recounted with a wistful smile.

Wanda's face shifted ever so slightly, a change you didn't quite catch.

“We both really needed it badly, so we promised to take turns using it, and we ended up studying together for weeks.”

“That sounds like something out of a movie,” Wanda mused, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.

“It kind of felt like that,” you admitted, laughing softly. “From bickering about who would get the book on Mondays to sharing our notes and coffee breaks. Before we knew it, we were inseparable.”

Wanda hummed, her eyes flitting restlessly around you.

“What is it?”

Wanda shrugged. “Nothing.”

You frowned slightly, knowing her well enough to see past her facade. “Wands, come on,” you coaxed. “Talk to me.”

She looked away for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “It's just... it's hard sometimes, hearing about these memories you shared with someone else, when I wish I had been there with you.”

“Wanda,” you began gently, “There are moments in your past that I wasn't a part of. But what matters is now. Right here, with you.”

She sighed, her posture deflating a little. “I know. It's silly, isn't it? To be jealous of a close friend of yours.”

“If it makes you feel this way, then it's valid, no matter how silly you think it might be,” you assured her.

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. “Growing up, our worlds were confined to that same apartment building. The people, the routines, everything was predictable. And now... being out in the world, seeing you connect with others, it's just... intimidating. And, honestly, a little scary.”

You paused, smirking a bit. “You know,” you began, but Wanda cut in, “What?”

“It's just...Do you even know how happy you make me?” you said, a bit sheepishly.

She looked like she was about to say something, but you quickly added, “Seriously, Wands.”

Wanda blinked, clearly taken aback. “You have this strange way of turning things around,” she said with a soft chuckle, her face turning a shade pinker.

“Because I love you.”

Neither of you had said it up until now. And it’s quickly evident that it was the right thing to say, at the right moment.

She took a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with her cup. “You always jump in headfirst, don't you?” Then, looking up into your eyes, she added softly, “I love you too.”

You grinned, feeling a weight lifted. “Took you long enough.”

Now

The grand ballroom doors open with a soft whoosh, the muted melodies of a string quartet drifting into the cool night. You step out quickly, breathing in deep gulps of fresh air, your heart pounding against your ribcage. Memories of Wanda Maximoff, which you've tried hard to keep buried, surge to the forefront of your mind.

Maria, noticing your abrupt exit, quickly follows you out. “Hey,” she calls out softly, her heels clicking on the stone path as she reaches you. “Are you okay?”

“Why is she here?” you exclaim, the pitch of your voice inching towards a sharp octave.

Maria gently grabs your arm, offering solace. “I had no idea she'd be here. I promise. She must be someone’s plus one.”

You swallow hard, trying to steady your suddenly spinning surroundings.

“Y/N?”

“I'm okay, Maria,” you say, forcing a weak smile. “Sorry about this. It's your wedding, and you shouldn't be out here with me. Go back, enjoy your day.”

She looks conflicted, torn between staying by your side and going back to her new spouse and guests.

After a moment, Maria steps forward, enveloping you in a tight hug. “Promise me you'll be okay?”

You nod, hugging her back. “That’s too many promises in one day. But yeah, I’ll be okay.”

It’s just Wanda, you tell yourself.

Just the girl who could always bring out that special smile in you—the same one Maria had when she said, “I do.”

Then

The call came unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

You and Wanda had been dozing in her room for a few hours, following a particularly exhausting fight that concluded with even more exhausting—and mind-blowing—make-up sex.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” You instantly recognized Pietro’s voice. “Hey, listen, can you pick me up? I'm at a bar,” Pietro said, his voice tinged with guilt and slight slurring. “I... I swear I didn't do anything. I got promoted to store manager and I treated a few colleagues to celebrate. I'm a bit tipsy so I... I'm sorry to bother you.”

There was a pause, and you ran a hand through your hair, exchanging a glance with Wanda who now sat up with a worried look.

“Which bar?” you asked, trying to keep yourself calm.

“Mike’s Tavern,” he mumbled, sounding embarrassed.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your keys from the nightstand. “Alright, I'm on my way. Stay put.”

Wanda frowned, her gaze conflicted. “I want to come with you,” she said, her brows furrowing together in concern and sleepiness.

“You should stay,” you said, sliding into your jeans. “It's a bit of a drive to New Jersey. You've had a long day, and you need to rest. I'll handle this.”

She bit her lip, torn, but finally nodded. “Please be safe. Call me if anything happens, okay?”

“I will,” you said, leaning down to give her a brief kiss on the forehead before making your way out.

You didn't call Wanda on your way back from New Jersey, but not because nothing occurred.

Rather, something did happen, and you weren't conscious enough to make the call.

You and Pietro made it to the hospital.

Wanda was an emotional wreck, grappling with the challenge of dividing her attention between her brother in ICU and you being wheeled into a separate ward.

An hour later, she didn't need to decide any longer.

Pietro Maximoff's time of death was called just as you started regaining consciousness.

The days following Pietro's death were a blur. You'd wake up, immediately feeling the weight of the world pressing down, your every moment drenched in guilt in the form of alcohol and, sometimes, your own vomit.

Though you weren't close to Pietro anymore, he was slowly turning his life around. And while a drunk truck driver caused the accident, your own haste to get back to Wanda made you reckless.

That choice haunted you daily.

That choice made you believe that Wanda hated you in secret.

You began avoiding Wanda, her presence a haunting reminder of the brother she lost and, in a twisted way, the brother you felt responsible for losing. The relationship you cultivated turned into something that only existed as a label. Otherwise, it didn’t exist at all. It faded, just like the gash on your face that you acquired from the accident.

Nights blurred into days, and sometimes, it was hard to tell which was which. Friends would find you in bars or on the rooftops, looking worse for wear, lost in your thoughts. Yes, Wanda grieved, but she was also lost without you by her side. She yearned for your comfort, your grounding presence; instead, all she got was your voicemail.

The breaking point came on an evening when she didn’t hear from you for two weeks. On a hunch, she decided to visit your dorm room. The last thing she expected was to find Maria there. While the situation was innocent enough, to Wanda's overwhelmed and grieving heart, it felt like a betrayal. Maria, sensing the rising tension, made a hasty exit, leaving the two of you alone.

Wanda's eyes glittered with rage and sadness. “Is this it?” she demanded. “Is this how we handle grief? You shut me out and bring her in?”

You looked away, the walls you had put up to protect yourself now seeming like a prison. “It's not about Maria,” you murmured, your voice empty, almost lifeless.

Wanda's red-rimmed eyes searched yours, looking for a glimmer of the person she loved. “Then what is it? Why do you keep pushing me away?”

“Why don't you blame me?” you suddenly screamed, tears blurring your vision. “You should hate me for your brother dying!”

For a few moments, there was a deafening silence, interrupted only by your quiet sobs.

Wanda's hands cupped your face, forcing you to meet her eyes. “I've never blamed you. Not once.”

You remained quiet, refusing to let Wanda lift your chin from your chest.

Wanda continued, “Life is a series of 'what ifs' and 'maybes'. You can't control everything. And neither can I. We both lost him, Y/N. I don’t need more loss by losing you too.”

“Maybe you already have,” you whispered, finally looking into her eyes.

Wanda's voice cracked, “You can't be serious. What are you saying?”

You felt drained, worn out. “I don't know how to be us anymore, Wanda.”

She looked devastated. “So you're just walking away? Because we're hurting?”

You just wanted to be able to breathe again. You just wanted all of the pain to end, even if it meant letting her go.

Wanda's face crumpled, her voice rising. “So, that's it? You're just giving up?”

You could barely muster the strength to speak. "I just think... maybe it's easier this way."

“Easier for whom?” Wanda yelled, unable to hold everything back any longer. “I don't need easy, Y/N. I need you. But if you're so set on this, then be honest with me.”

You took a deep breath, your throat tight. “I think we need space, Wanda. A break.”

For a moment, it looked like Wanda might collapse. She took a step back, her gaze cold and hard. “You think a break will fix this? Fine. But don't expect me to be here waiting when you come around.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and left.

The last image of Wanda Maximoff etched into your mind as you closed her chapter.

Now

You half-expect her to seek you out after you left the reception. So, when the familiar scent of Wanda’s perfume wafts over, you keep your back turned, taking a long drag from your cigarette rather than acknowledging her arrival.

“Can I bum one?” she asks, her voice softer than the last time you heard it.

You hand her a cigarette without a word, watching her closely as she lights it. Her fingers, slender and pale, bring the cigarette to her lips, and she takes a long drag, exhaling with a sigh.

She looks so different, yet so achingly familiar.

Her hair is red—a detail you missed earlier. But now, standing this close to her, you can pick out everything that’s changed about her.

And you hate how good you are at doing just that.

For a few minutes, both of you stand in silence, letting the smoke swirl around in patterns before it gets carried away by the wind.

Wanda breaks the silence. “It's been a while.”

“Did you know it was Maria’s wedding?” you ask, finally gathering the courage to look at her.

She hesitates, exhaling a plume of smoke before admitting, “Yes, I did. But explaining to Steve our... complicated history and why I'd refuse to be his plus one seemed harder than just going with it.”

“Steve?”

She looks down, taking a moment before murmuring, “Steve’s my fiancé.”

Your eyes instinctively flit to her left hand, landing on the glimmering diamond ring. It's large and hard to miss, and you almost want to laugh that you hadn’t noticed before.

There’s a long pause between you both before you find your voice. “Congratulations, Wanda.” And to your own surprise, you genuinely mean it.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, an action you still find so endearing after all these years. But you’re not supposed to find anything about her endearing anymore. They’re not supposed to make your heart race. They’re not supposed to make you feel light-headed with desire.

It hits you painfully just how possible it is to stand mere inches from someone, yet feel oceans apart.

Wanda takes a deep breath, releasing it shakily.

“You know,” Wanda says, her voice soft, “I never really got to apologize for how things ended between us.” She shakes her head slowly, tears forming in her eyes. “I was angry, hurt... lost. And when you tried to come back, I was already seeing someone else. By that time–”

“–so much has happened and I’ve hurt you too much,” you finish for her, a pained smile on your lips. “I’m sorry too.”

Wanda's breath hitches, and for a moment, she's transported back to your dorm room. She's spent a long time wondering what might have happened if she had stayed. But that choice belongs to a different timeline, a version of her that might have been braver than she feels now.

You pause, glancing at your hands before meeting her eyes. “Are you happy, Wanda?” A part of you hopes she's found happiness, yet another selfish part wishes she hasn't—because if she hasn't, maybe there's still a space for you in her life.

Wanda meets your gaze, her eyes shining with a clarity you hadn't seen in years. “I am happy,” she confirms softly.

The unexpected rush of emotion tightens your throat, and your eyes mist over. But you fight it, forcing a big smile that wrinkles the corners of your eyes.

“That's great, Wanda,” you say. Your heart aches a bit, thinking how happiness can feel like a double-edged sword.

Reading your expression, she asks, “What about you? Are you happy?”

You promised Maria you won’t stop looking for the kind of happiness that brings people together.

So, now you hang onto the hope of that promise.

“Getting there,” you answer, the corners of your mouth lifting ever so slightly, “I will be.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #oneshots #steve rogers #wanda maximoff au #maria hill #bittersweet ending

359 notes · View notes

pricklepearbloom · 8 months

Text

Late for Dinner

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, this is my first fic ever so be kind lmao, not beta read so if you find mistakes keep them to yourself

Pairing: Azriel x OC Louella (Lou)

Word count: 3.3K

The comforting smell of freshly baked cookies enveloped the air as Lou bustled through the kitchen preparing for the night ahead. A buzzing sizzled through her veins centered around her middle as she glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that late afternoon. 5:15. She could get it all done, she reassured herself mentally going through the checklist of things she needed to prepare for tonight. Tonight, she decided, would be the night that she finally accepted the mating bond with Azriel.

She met Azriel months ago while she was on a date with a male at a small coffee shop around the corner from her home. Her date was droning on and on about himself not bothering to notice that he had yet to ask her anything about herself. She knew she would not be going out with him again as she watched the dark sweet liquid in her drink swirl around in her mug. Having rarely gone out with males she was incredibly disappointed with the outcome of the date that her friend had set her up on. After one too many failed relationships this date was the first after a very long break from males. A name cut through the white noise of the coffee shop- her name.

“Louella? Louella? Hello?” Crap. It was her date. Her eyes locked onto his as she zoned back into the present to see his face contorted with his eyebrows scrunched together and a slight frown on his small pale lips. “Have you even been listening to a word I was saying?” No. “Yes of course, sorry I must have zoned out.” Lou lightly laughed to ease some tension “It’s just been one of those days I suppose.” “Well as I was saying…” her date that she couldn’t even be bothered to remember the name of continued to drag on about whatever he had been talking about.

A soft jingle caught Lou’s attention and she glanced to see a tall dark figure enter the coffee shop. Lou briefly analyzed his figure from the shoes up not thinking much of it. Dark laced boots, black form fitting trousers with a dark shirt partially tucked in the front. What really caught her attention were the dark wings that were attached to this male with the impressive figure. Behind broad shoulders were thin, membrane like wings that blocked out all of the sunlight streaming into the café. Her eyes trailed up his figure until they hit his face and she let out a small intake of breath that caught his attention snapping his gaze over to hers.

A feeling of warmth and wholeness extended from her chest reaching out to the male. Mate. She couldn’t draw her eyes away from the male, locked in a staring battle with one of the most dangerous men in all of Prythian. The night court shadowsinger. She couldn’t tell what he was feeling, his face betraying nothing but his eyes on hers felt so intense she knew he felt it too. A hand on her arm had her eyes clipping back to her date. “Are you okay?” A low snarl could be heard from directly behind her and she froze not daring to look behind her.

“Remove your hand or I will remove it for you.” A deep voice graveled out. Her date looked shocked with wide eyes staring up at the shadowsinger. The smell of his fear and faint scent of urine hit her nose as her date shot out of his seat with his hands up practically running for the door stuttering out an apology. Louella couldn’t help but let her mouth gape open as she looked up at the shadowsinger who looked even larger than life standing above her gazing down at her. The coffee shop had gone silent as all eyes were on them. Embarrassment burned through Louella as she stood toe to toe with him.

The magnetism that connected Lou to the shadowsinger was tangible. Her entire body urging her closer to his, eager to be wrapped up in his embrace. Her mind, however, felt differently. Her eyes narrowed at the male and she saw him swallow, the only indicator of his nerves. “Don’t you at least want to know my name before you chase off my date?” She said through clenched teeth. The shadowsinger clenched his hand in a nervous tick unsure of how to proceed. The moment he had been waiting for his entire life was finally here and he was frozen. Stuck in his head as his eyes stayed glued to the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. And she was his. His shadows swarmed around him and one errant one was circling the ankle of his mate. His mate. Who was glaring at him? By cauldron she was beautiful when she was mad. It made a grin tug up the right side of his mouth and he watched her gaze soften a fraction.

“Hi” he ground out the lump in his throat the size of his fist. Lou’s mouth twitched and she felt her entire body clench in anticipation. “Hi.” She said softer than before watching his lips slide into an unsure soft smile. She glanced away with a warm tight feeling in her chest making her jittery.

“Louella.” She stuck out her hand “you can call me Lou though if you’d like.” His eyes softened, his shadows practically singing with joy over the sound of their mate’s voice. He slid his hand into her, engulfing hers completely. She seemed so small compared to him and a small fear shot through him that he would hurt her. No. He pressed mentally; he would never dream of hurting her. “Azriel,” he replied finally. Her heart skipped a beat at the warmth emanating from his hand into hers letting it warm her from her hand to the rest of her body. He glanced down at their hands shaking up and down for much longer than necessary and he couldn’t help his grin, he couldn’t wait for the rest of his life with this beautiful creature.

After their initial introduction, Lou and Azriel took things slow as per Lou’s request. She didn't want to jump into being mated before she was ready or before they got to know each other. They spent countless hours on dates and spending time at each other’s houses. Sleeping over but never going past heavy petting. Wanting to save their first time for when they accept the mating bond. Azriel would have completed the mating bond the moment they met; Lou knew this. But he was gracious enough to not bring it up often so as to not make her feel uncomfortable. But it was always on her mind and she had recently come to the conclusion that she was ready.

She knew that the mating frenzy would take up a lot of their time, so she made sure to prepare things around the home. The dishes were washed, extra food from the market was stored and put away, all of the extra sheets were washed dried and folded nearby just in case things got messy. Lou blushed at the thought, she had been with a few males before but none of them were her mate. She wanted everything to be perfect and was feeling a bit of pressure as time ticked on and it was getting closer to the time that Azriel said he would come home for dinner. Today marked their sixth month since meeting and courting and she hadn’t been able to see her mate all day. He vanished early in the morning murmuring something about Rhys needing him to take care of a camp before he rushed off promising to be back for dinner at 6:00. Time was ticking faster and faster and Lou rushed to set all of Azriel’s favorite foods out on the table making sure everything looked perfect. Another glance at the clock told her he would be back in twenty minutes and she let out a sound of excitement before calming herself. She glanced down at herself and found trails of various powders and the clinging scent of cleaning products. Setting down her oven mitt and taking off her apron she rushed to the washroom to take the worlds’ fastest shower and put on an outfit that she had been saving for this exact occasion. A deep blue that complimented her olive skin wonderfully, wrapped around her bust snugly before flaring out into a knee-length skirt that seemed to flow like reeds in the wind when she walked.

She painted her eyes and lips lightly then strapped her kitten heels on that she knew drove Azriel crazy. Carefully walking downstairs, she looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 6:00. Azriel should be home any minute. She sat down at the dining table and lit the last candle that she had set out to make the scene even more romantic. Her hands were buzzing with nerves and excitement, her leg bouncing up and down from all of the energy in her body. Her gaze remained trained on the door waiting for her mate to come through the door.

“He’s just running late” She reassured herself after one hour had past and she remained glued to her seat.

“Maybe Rhys held him up with something,” she said after hour two; the food long gone cold.

“Maybe he got hurt,” she worried glancing as the clock struck four hours past. But she dismissed this immediately because she knew Rhys would inform her if anything were to ever happen to him.

“He forgot.” She said softly resigned after six hours. Waves of disappointment and sadness washed over her as she still sat in her chair at the table shrouded in darkness. Tears rolling down her face unperturbed, numbness and exhaustion taken over her body. She heard a jostling of keys and a soft “shit” followed by a thud against the front door. After a few moments, the door swung open and an obviously inebriated Azriel stumbled in. Having yet to notice her, he takes off one shoe at a time nearly falling over after attempting on one foot. He shucked off his jacket and threw it toward the couch but missed by a long shot ending up on the floor next to the fireplace. Lou’s eyes kept trained on him silent as a mouse, she felt as small as one at the moment, so perhaps it was fitting.

Finally, his gaze landed on her and he grinned, his face spreading into a smile that she usually loved so much. Her face remained neutral as he strode over to her placing a kiss on the top of her head in greeting. “Hi beautiful. I missed you tonight, sorry I missed dinner. Cass wanted to celebrate our successful mission today and I must have lost track of time. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” He said much more breezily than usual, not seeing how still Lou was. Not noticing that she hadn’t returned his greeting or even moved since he entered. He kept walking toward the washroom starting to strip his leathers as he went. “You didn’t have to wait up. I’m just gonna take a shower then I’ll meet you in bed.”

Rising slowly from the chair she had been stationary in for many hours, her joints creaked and popped with the movement. She felt like a ghost. What was supposed to be the best and most important night of her life was forgotten and tossed aside for… for drinking with a male that Azriel saw on a weekly basis? Rage started to build deep in her chest, but she shoved it down not letting it surface. She practically glided to the bedroom, not feeling the coldness of the hardwood beneath her feet. She stood in the bedroom hearing the rushing of water and an out of character humming from the male that had tossed her aside this evening. She stepped out of the dress and laid it carefully on the chair in the corner before tugging on pajamas. The water turned off and Azriel stepped out with only a towel wrapped around his chiseled waist. Quickly drying off he slid on boxers before practically throwing himself onto the bed falling asleep almost instantly. Lou stood staring at the now snoring form of Azriel. She had seen him drunk before but nothing like this and he was never so dismissive of her. She started towards the bed before stopping herself, tears burning in her eyes. She couldn’t bear to sleep in the same bed as him, the crushing disappointment of the night hit her like a tsunami and she quickly made a decision grabbing an empty duffle bag filling it with clothes.

Bright light burned through Azriel’s eyes and he groaned instinctively reaching out to the other side of the bed for his mate. Scarred hand brushed over cold sheets and his eyes opened quickly scanning the room for Lou. Azriel shot straight up when his gaze landed on drawers thrown open, various clothes strewn across the room as if left in haste. The alcohol from the previous evening came up to haunt him as a roiling bubbly sensation rumbled through his stomach. He jumped out of bed and threw himself on the toilet to catch the vomit that was currently exiting from his body.

Wiping his mouth with a groan, he slumped over the toilet before his head snapped up remembering the evidence that he saw this morning. With a heave, he brought himself up to standing and rushed into the bedroom seeing clothes all over and one of his bag’s missing. Quick eyes clocked that his clothes were on the ground but most of Lou’s clothes were… missing. Fear shattered through him and he picked up his pace. “Lou?!” he called into the empty air running into the hallway. ‘She’s not here’ his shadows whispered to him which made him even more frantic. All of his insecurities coming to the forefront as he ran down the stairs taking two at a time, practically falling down. His gaze locked onto the dining room, taking in all of the dishes prepared with his favorite foods. He could practically feel his heart drop into the pits of his stomach. Dinner. He fucking forgot dinner. She made him… all of his favorite foods for dinner. The pieces were slowly falling together as Azriel crumpled to his knees, not being able to hold up his body any longer. “Find her,” he choked out to his shadows watching half of them scatter into cracks and crevices leaving him feel even more exposed and vulnerable than he was before.

Lou wasn’t able to sleep last night at all, emotions running through her like a river to an ocean. Anger, sadness, disappointment, anxiety, and guilt for leaving. She absently stirred the untouched tea that she made an hour ago as she gazed out the window that looked out to the forest that surrounded the safehouse cabin Azriel had shown her when they first started courting. He told her to come whenever she needed to get away or was in danger and she definitely needed some space to think… right? A frantic banging on the door caught her by surprise and she carefully walked over to the door peeking out to see Azriel heaving out heavy breaths looking as though he had run there.

Lou took a steady breath taking in the sight of him. Unkempt, hair every which way as if he had been constantly running his fingers through it, his shirt on backwards and two different socks. He was beautiful. “Hello.” She said evenly and Azriel could have cried at the sound of her voice. He swallowed deeply his mind racing wondering where to even begin, “I’m sorry.” He blurted out unable to restrain himself. “I’m so, so sorry Lou.” He panted trying to catch his breath. “For what?” she asked feeling a bit petty for making it lay out his wrongs. His eyes were bouncing back and forth between hers unable to keep still for even a moment. “Missing dinner. Missing the dinner. I’m sorry my love, I should have been there. It was a hard mission and I needed to blow off steam, but I should have talked to you first. I- I made a mistake please don’t leave me. I need you. I need you like I need to breathe please.”

Lou didn’t say anything as her eyes took in his distraught appearance, she merely stepped aside to let him in. Not going to miss an opportunity, Azriel quickly took the invitation and kicked off his boots as Lou shut the door behind him. She started walking to the couch, Azriel following behind her like a kicked puppy. He sat a few feet away from her, trying to respect her space. Lou resented that distance and scooted a bit closer before turning to him. “Az. I know you didn’t know that it was the dinner but… it’s been six months exactly and I put so much effort into the night and when you came home drunk I just… I felt so small and unseen and I’ve never felt like that with you. That’s why I needed some space, I’m not leaving you I just needed some perspective, I guess. I love you and I wanted last night to be special, I was just really disappointed, that’s all.” With every word Azriel’s heart broke more and more. Along with it, his resolve to fix it steeled like the warrior he was. “I will make this up to you I promise. I will never make you feel that way again. You deserve better than that and I’ll give it to you I promise. I love you and I’ll show you.” With that he took her hand and led her to the kitchen. His thumb anxiously trailed over her knuckles before he gently grabbed her waist with both hands, hoisting her up onto the counter. “Az-“ she began before he cut her off “Wait please let me just. Please let me just try to start making it up to you. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m not losing you.”

Her heart ached with longing and a bit of pain for the male, “Azriel. You won’t lose me.” “I know. And this will ensure it.” He replied as he quickly began preparing her favorite food. After a long silence with only the sounds of Azriel’s cooking filling the space, he served her food on a plate. “I know this isn’t how it’s usually done, but I love you and I want you to know that even if you never accepted the mating bond you would have me for life, beautiful.” A hand caressed her jaw gently, a calloused thumb swiping across her soft cheek. She looked at him with love a burning in her eyes and kept them locked on him as she took a bite. His breath stuttered and his restraint was waning. “Of course, I forgive you. I love you.” She swirled the pasta around her fork before lifting it up to his lips slowly, “Do you forgive me for leaving? I promise next time I’m upset I will stay and talk it out. I won’t leave again.” The sigh of relief that came from Azriel could be felt by all of the animals in the surrounding forest. He stepped in between her legs before closing his lips around the fork, keeping his eyes trained on hers the entire time. The bond felt like it was missing a puzzle piece and it was just found the final one. The urge to take her to the bedroom was insurmountable and Lou could see the need on his face. With a small smile she leaned in and muttered against his lips, “kiss me Az.” And he did.

#acotar #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x oc #first fic #be kind #if this flops it never happened

151 notes · View notes

certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 9 months

Note

Hey!! I don’t know if you do requests but I have been exploring your page and figured I might as well ask :)- SO if you’re open to it, I would love to see a Dick Grayson x Reader where they’re friends at first (lots of tension) and she knows he’s nightwing but doesn’t get involved bc she’s a civilian and he wants her to keep a safe distance from it, BUT one day they’re hanging out together and a villain shoots her with some sort of blaster and the effects mess with her and end up giving her some type of meta human ability (your choice!) she ends up freaking out and he helps her gather her composure and comforts her with a lil angsty fic where he’s rlly worried but then she ends up being okay- IF YOU DONT DO REQUESTS DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO DO THIS ‼️ thank you so much for your time babe :)

i feel like this one was definitely a little hard to get a good ball rolling, but I finally got there. i actually physically wrote bits of this at work cause of how bored I was and how slow it was. i hope this is to your liking! barely proofread so forgive possible bad grammar and stuff

pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader (use of y/n) wc: 1.8K

masterlist

for once it seemed to be a pleasant day in gotham. early spring with flowers blooming brightly and trees growing to share their shade with commuters. the sky was like a shimmering ocean with how blue and cloudless it was; it seemed like everyone was outside if they didn’t have an obligation somewhere.

you and dick were two people taking advantage of the once-in-a-blue-moon seasonal weather. dick was growing his hair out while he was away at college so when the sweet-scented breeze swept by it toyed with his jet-black strands, some sticking in the air and others poking his eyes. he was wearing a long sleeve white cotton shirt, his sleeves pushed to his elbows with two top buttons left open to show more of his collarbones off. his long legs and thick thighs were covered in a light blue pair of levi’s 501s and damn did they do him excellent justice, your eyes couldn’t help but glance over every chance you could for just a peek.

“sweetheart!” was called which was followed by a light shove to your left shoulder. you blinked a few times and quickly shook your head then turned to see dick staring at you with a smirk on his pink lips. “you okay?”

a slow blink, “yeah.” you coughed then looked forward, “yeah. all good, just…zoned out.” trying to play it off.

“oh, so my talk about the latest night activities is boring to you?” a playful hurt tone as dick set his open palm on his chest. he added a pout for more dramatics.

now you rolled your eyes and shoved his right shoulder which didn’t do anything to his tall and muscular figure, he just chuckled at your attempt.

“no. talks of your night activities are interesting. i just got concerned after a while. still makes me nervous, hearing you talk about riddler or penguin or even joker like it’s something normal.” your eyes held a softness as they locked with dick’s. his baby blues melting at your words.

he looked forward then licked his lips before saying, “well it is my normal. i’ve been dealing with some of these people since i was thirteen. kinda got used to them and their gimmicks.” shrugging his words off.

the both of you went quiet. the background noise of children giggling and screaming from joy in the park, dogs barking and rushing about to chase thrown sticks. parents with strollers chatting beside each other getting in some steps, and a few older men sitting at a stone chess table and playing their game in their comfortable silence.

shyly you glanced down to see your hands swinging beside each other. you bit into your bottom lip and swooped in, sandwiching your hands together before looking straight down your path. dick didn’t say anything, you only felt the way his hand squeezed yours and the goosebump-inducing way his eyes were watching you.

“why don’t you restart your account? i’ll listen this time.” taking a glance at the handsome boy before forcing your eyes away.

he hummed but didn’t say anything right away. you didn’t bother forcing him to retell the story, rather enjoying the blissful bubble that formed around the two of you. but after a few minutes rolled past, dick slowly started to dive into retelling his encounter with riddler when he was patrolling with bruce. his unoccupied hand moving about in the air, not able to keep any part of his body still. you watched his face with intense focus, pupils following the movement of his jaw and the way his lips formed his words.

just staring at him made your heart thump thump thump faster.

“and so i threw one of my sticks and caused the machine to blow up.” that was all you were able to catch before screaming erupted causing chaos. people were running any way they could, some tripping and falling as the ground shook.

your knees buckled from the unexpected quake, but dick wrapped his arms tight around your middle and held you flush to his chest. you could practically feel his heart beating against your back and on his pulse point where your fingers circled his wrist.

green smoke starts to flood the slowly deserted park. large monstrous roots break apart concrete and patches of grass, and sharp thorns barely miss bystanders. “ivy.” dick’s voice dropped an octave, his hold on your tightening even further you thought he was gonna break a rib.

“dick, what’s-” “we need to leave. now!” dick pushed the both of you forward, his more giant hand crushing yours as you pushed your shorter legs to run faster.

just as you rounded a bend, one of the thick roots tangled itself tight around your ankle, causing you to trip and sprain your wrist. a strained cry for dick as the plant tugged you along the ground, spiked thorns digging harshly into your skin. Then suddenly you came to a stop and there was a loud snapping sound behind you. when glancing over your shoulder the root was broken in two, dick removed the piece stuck to your bleeding skin. you couldn’t help the pathetic whimpers or the tears staining your cheeks.

“it’s okay. it’s okay, sweetheart. i got you, you're safe with me.” dick was comforting you as he shuffled your body around so he could hold you in a fireman's hold. your arms started to feel like dead weight as you worked to fling them over dick’s shoulders to keep yourself close to his heart.

“dick… i don’t- i don’t feel…” and everything went black behind your eyes and static rang in your ears.

there was a tingle in your body, zipping up and down, head to toe hitting every nerve ending. muscles felt coiled tight, and sore like you did too many workout sessions at once. a groan deep in your throat as you tried moving your arms, pushing yourself upward.

“woah, woah strong girl. stay down.” firm hands held your upper arms to lay you gently when you moved your hands away.

squeezing your eyes tight before trying to peel them apart, feeling eye boogers crusting the edges near your lashes. your throat felt like sandpaper as you tried asking, “what- what hap-“ “wait, wait. drink some water.”

dick’s voice was low and gentle. a hand warm and firm holding the back of your neck as your lips fumbled for the plastic straw so you could sip down ice cold water to soothe the ache in your throat. a relieved sigh just as you opened your eyes completely.

dick was leaning over you, overhead lighting casting him in a halo glow. his growing black hair falling forward, his stunning blue eyes moving quickly and you noticed his dark circles looked deeper. his plush chapped lips turned to a saddened smile with the corners turned up.

“there she is. there’s my girl.” it was almost a purr and a delighted sigh escaped from you as you let your body relax.

your heart monitor started to beat quicker and you felt warm knowing it was due to dick and his words, but he looked panicked and then called for bruce.

“dick, it’s nothing serious.” not understanding why he was stressing when he’d usually just tease you. reaching with your right hand to touch him, you stopped short when you saw the skin of your hand was… green.

looking at your other hand and it was also green. you pushed the white sleeves up your arms and more green just followed. now you had a reason for your heart to beat faster, you were panicking, not understanding what happened to you.

“y/n, i need you to slow your heart rate. your body will react differently with this chemical in your blood.” bruce’s deep commanding voice went in one ear out the other. you tried taking slower breaths, curling your fingers into your palms to ground yourself. none of it was working.

“dick, what’s happening? what happened after the park?” voice getting wobbly and thick with emotion.

he licked his lips and reached towards you before pulling back, it hurt you to see that. “you- you passed out in the park and so i brought you back to the manor. and alfred was taking care of you until your skin started to stain into his green shade. so we took some blood samples and brought you down here for safety, turns out…”

he trailed off as he licked his lips again. “what, dick? what’s infected me?” trying to sound firm but it cracked on the word infected. scared this might be permanent.

dick sighed, “we’re still not one hundred percent sure. but can confirm that it’s from poison ivy, which explains the green complexion. which- which doesn’t change your beauty, glowing even more.” he rambled as you got quiet.

without realizing it, you slowed your heart rate back to normal. bruce and dick seemed more calm and dick walked closer to rest his hand over yours.

“i don’t want to be stuck like this.” shiny teardrops fell from your eyes and down your cheeks. you didn’t want to be different, chemically altered. you liked who you were, completely fine in your mundane life.

dick moved his palms to cradle your plush cheeks, his thumb or knuckle working to swipe away your distress and fear. “it’s okay. we’re- bruce is working on an antidote. should take a week, tops.”

“a week!” almost yelling at this information. “i- i can’t be out of work for a week. my boss will kill me.” groaning to yourself.

“hey,” dick whispered the word and tilted your head to make eye contact with him. “it’s okay. already told your boss a version of medical retellings. and bruce already put more than a month's worth of pay into your checking account.”

“i- i can’t accept that. that’s too generous of him.” overwhelmed by the care and looking after. not used to all this. dick thumbed at your cheek, “we just need you to stay here and get better. i’ll be by your side the whole time.”

you sank your teeth into your bottom lip, “you will? don’t you have things to do? i- i don’t want to be a burden.”

“no, no.” he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, “you're not a burden in any way. i’m happy to spend any amount of time with you. you're my favorite person in this whole world.”

you felt warm and bet he could feel the heat growing on your face, “really? what about wally?” trying to play off how strong his words affect you.

his smile was easy, lovely. his eyes are warm and homely. his touch gentle and grounding. “wally already knows you’re my favorite person. he’s accepted that he’s second.” and he leaned forward again to plant a longer, lingering kiss on your forehead. eyes closing as you hold onto his wrist.

“it’ll be okay.” words kissed into your skin.

#dick grayson angst #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson fic #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x fem!reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc comics nightwing #nightwing angst #nightwing x reader #nightwing #nightwing x fem!reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics dick grayson #dc comics fic #dc comcics x reader

220 notes · View notes

camilasstories · 9 months

Text

❝feeling unreciprocated❞ chapter 3 | jungkook x reader

summary: Sleeping with one guy after feeling rejected wasn't a good idea, but sleeping with another one and another seemed to be even worse plan. Especially with your handsome crush behind the wall, who is as confused as you about your ways of coping with a broken heart.

chapter 2 | chapter 3 | next chapter

She’s just my roommate.

Those words somehow managed to stay in your head since you walked out of the flat. It was pretty clear to understand, quite straightforward you could say and they cut your skin like some kind of daggers with toxic substances at the end of them. Deeply and painfully. And there you were explaining all the things that weighted you down to the only one person who could stand your messy life.

„You did what?” your friend’s voice went higher than was intended making you cringe in your sit. In fact, it didn’t take much for you to realise how badly you had damaged your reputation and you were bravely enduring it listening to the moralising monologue.

After your accidental meeting with Jungkook’s friends you rushed to Gia as you felt like all the emotions could blow out in your chest in any moment. Firstly, you thought you could save the information about last night for yourself that you wouldn’t need anyone to know about it, but you soon found out you were completely wrong. Just few hours passed and you were dying to reveal your feelings and search for any supportive talk. Secondly, Jungkook didn't even look at you when you waved your hand at him to simply say goodbye and automatically your smile dropped and your heart stopped for a moment feeling offended by his lack of a reply. That totally sucked, but you deduced it could be because of his friends who were first in the picture that moment. You got that, but when you heard those words coming out of his mind, you lost it completely.

“Yeah, it may have happened” you looked at your taken off white trainers that were laying on a car mat.

You had texted her right before stepping out of your flat and running downstairs. Obviously she got the assignment and drove her way to a place where you managed to walk up which happened to be the middle of your neighborhood. She had already prepared all the sweets she had in her cupboard, so you two could munch on them while talking with each other in her car with your legs stretched. You often organize this type of car meetings where you have something important to share, so she knew right away something was in the air and it wasn't anything good.

“I don’t believe you’ve done this” Gia threw her arms in the air gesticulating as much as she could to add some drama “(Y/N), wake up for fuck sake. It's not a romantic comedy” she sounded worried and mad at the same time which didn't surprise you at all.

The situation you got yourself into was far from responsible, but you weren't here to get judge. You needed her ears right now, not just her lips that were moving all the time since you two got into a car.

“I don’t need a lecture, Gia” you stopped her and turned on the heating keeping your eyes at the buttons as you felt overwhelmed by the amount of words “I need a friend, right now”.

Her gaze softened as she let a quiet sigh looking through the front window meditating over your problematic life. She couldn't believe that you got so easily friend-zoned. If you could even say that because in Gia's opinion Jungkook wasn't your friend. In her eyes, he was just enjoying your stable nature and exploring the area far from his favorite places and people like clubs and drunk friends just to see what is it like. Her worry was justified by her observations and your occasional talk that involved Jungkook. She heard it all, that he was almost every night out of home, that he got many texts from girls and that he wasn't interested in anything but good fun. Gia was aware that it wasn't wrong of him to do such things. They were young trying to experience as much as they could and it wasn't the problem at all. The real problem was that you were his roommate and in addition you were his complete opposite. You two got along, she got it and it was totally fine, but since you developed feelings for him you started to wear blinkers. You stopped caring about yourself, your self-esteem lowered down and you stopped going out as much on Fridays because of your movie nights with him not even taking a step back and looking at the situation with clear vision. You didn't even try to think about whether he had true intentions or you were his excuse not to go out with his friends because he needed one day off to sober up. Gia saw him differently than you worried if he was really worthy of your time and then you did this because of lack of other options. It was disappointing how much you were depending on him. You weren't yourself, but she was your best friend. She had your back even if your decisions were nothing but stupid and even if you had a crush on Jungkook. They were your valid feelings and she respected that.

“Sorry, I just can’t believe you slept with this guy” she started again this time with a tranquil voice “Like... It’s just not you” she leaned back on the car seat breathing out the air.

You knew that it wasn't something you usually did, correct, you never did that in your life, but you didn't feel guilty or shame for what you have done. It was an adult decision, quite spontaneous and impetuous, but only your decision which might or not be a bad one. You didn't care as much as there was no way back. Time couldn't be turned back, so in your opinion there was no point in dwelling on the subject more than it was needed. What's done is done, you shrugged your shoulders carelessly thinking if your reaction was appropriate taking into consideration that you had just given yourself to a random guy. Were you this stupid or infatuated? Or maybe it didn't come to you yet and when it does it will be two times harder to handle. You bet it would be the second option, but for now you were living in your pink bubble until it would pop. However, small talk with Gia wouldn't hurt you, maybe you would even come to your senses after that.

“I know, right. It was so random” you bite your lips playing with a strawberry jelly in your fingers “I'm trying to understand how it happened, but it just happened, I guess. He texted me first, then I texted back and agreed for a meeting. That's all" you put a sweet in your mouth.

Gia observed you carefully for longer that it should last as if she wanted to say something, but was hesitant to speak up. You gave her the chance to choose the right words, but nothing came from her mouth so you decided to help her as you noticed she kept fidgeting in her seat.

"What is it?" you asked eventually with hidden curiosity.

“Did you have orgasm at least?” she blurted out "Well, I mean if you had to have sex, you should enjoy it at some point".

When you thought about it, you realized you hadn't reached a peak while doing it with him, even though he wasn't bad at this stuff. Hyun Woo was almost perfect guy to have sex with. You just didn't feel anything towards him so it might have been the reason for not breaking the record - it was just meaningless sex. You weren't all in it and actually he had put more effort than you did. Despite the foreplay and kissing it just wasn't it. You enjoyed it, but they only word that fit to describe was 'fine', nothing too extraordinary or fulfilling, which kept you wondering how it would be with Jungkook and it was a nasty thing to do taking into consideration you 'cheated' on the idea of him with another guy.

“No, that's the problem” you groaned sadly biting your inner cheek “But he was nice. He gave me flowers” you took a glance at her waiting for her to say something uplifting, but she just looked at you with a visible grimace.

“Its the bare minimum, (Y/N)”.

It was funny for Gia how readily you got satisfied with mundane things that guys did and she contemplated why you were fulfilled with just a smile that Jungkook offered you or even worse - just a look. Something told her that it was simply a phase that would pass anytime soon. She had to wait for his wrong move, something that would unfortunately break you so you could understand it wasn't worth it, but somehow she wished for happy ending for you. Gia just didn't trust Jungkook.

„Well, maybe for a relationship, but last time I checked it was just a hookup” your sarcasm was perceptible, but you weren’t mean to her while doing it “In this situation it was the maximum and maybe even more than that”.

„But he failed in giving you orgasm” Gia reminded you again emphasizing the problem in this case, though you were right in this case.

“He wasn’t supposed to give me one. It's not a must” you took Hyun Woo's back a little bit guilty to talk about him like that, though you weren't close with him “But I admit, it would be a pleasant addition if he did”.

"And how was he? In general".

“Good. He started with foreplay, that's a plus. Very handsy, I must say” your reply sounded stiff because it turned out that it wasn’t comfortable to talk about such stuff out loud “But he didn’t listen to me most of the time, he just went for it, you know” some flashbacks from yesterday hit you while you were narrating your previous night.

“The worst type” Gia squinted her eyes judgmentally “Peasure-seekers”.

Pleasure-seeker. You wanted to pin a blame on somebody else than yourself, but there was no one else to accuse. Your decision changed your vision when you weren’t even looking, were you such a person? You pushed these thoughts away as if you tried to avoid the judgement. It scared you to be this person, searching only for pleasure, not taking into account somebody else's feelings. It scared you that Jungkook could be one.

“If you put it that way I may have been this pleasure-seeker” you joked, but even to you it didn't come as funny "I mean I looked for a hookup, just like him".

“No, it's different!” Gia rapidly denied your theory seeing your expression lowering down “Okay, maybe not so different, but different in some way. You looked for... fun?” she tried to make it sound less horrible, but she failed obviously. It was a stupid explanation.

“That's the same" you said it more like to yourself as you felt creeping guilt you hadn’t felt before. Maybe you should have thought twice before introducing Hyun Woo to your bed. Maybe you shouldn't have started this talk with Gia seeing how your feelings were changing. Regret was coming out of you.

“Again. What were you thinking?” she changed the subject knowing her efforts weren't effective in making you feel better “That a random hook-up would change your mind about your crush?”

It hit you hard how weird it sounded from her lips and it was another reason to bury yourself in a grave from embarrassment. You knew she tried to understand you and give you a hand, but apparently it only increased your self-doubt.

“It was supposed to be exactly like you said” you nodded weakly realizing how silly it must have been.

“And?”

Nothing. You couldn’t take it as a win if your mind kept wandering to Jungkook through the sex session. You couldn’t take it as a victory if you almost cried in front of the guy realising you still have your crush on your mind and it didn’t want to let you free.

“It was close at the beginning, I thought maybe he would kick him out of my head because I felt excited, really” your lips were sealed in a thin line as you didn't share more details “And suddenly this feeling disappeared and I just… hate it more and more as we continue”.

“No brainer” she rolled her eyes sighing deeply “It would be easier to just tell him how you feel”.

“It would be way harder, are you crazy?” skin on your head wrinkled as you raised your eyebrows.

“Me? Crazy? Let’s not forget you are the one who found a random guy from the Internet and invited him to your bed. It's a fucking circus” she scoffed, but smiled at the end “Girl, it can’t get any worse”.

“Okay, okay! Just listen to me and try to imagine this” you raised your hands to show an invisible rainbow “Me, Jungkook’s roommate, after having a random hook-up to forget all about him, tells him how badly I’m crushing on him since I moved in. How does it sound? Gia, he would either start searching for a new candidate for his roommate or he would kick me out. I’m not even prepared for higher bills” you gesticulated with your hands in a chaotic way.

“Are you worried about him kicking you out?” her eyebrows snapped together and her head went back as if she were disgusted with this idea. She would kick his ass if he did that to you.

“No? Maybe? I don’t know, it’s just a side story. I don’t think he would dare, he isn't like that” your words were galloping so as your thoughts which contradicted each other as in your mind there was a total mess.

“He would be a fool if he did that” she put her hand on your shoulder and rubbed it gently trying to soothe you “But if he did, you could live with me so give it a try. You have some options”.

“No, thanks. I prefer peace not trouble” your response was immediate "Maybe Hyun Woo wasn't the appropriate guy to work this out".

"I don't think that any guy would solve your problem".

"And I think there is still a chance" you were adamant.

If you stopped, you would think 'well, it's not working, let's stop", but you didn't stop and you didn't think. You choose to hold tightly to the idea that another guy would heal your heart so strongly that you missed the craziness of it and it was a bad omen.

“Is it even his apartment?”

“It’s his uncle’s free flat. He rents us for a lower price”.

“I see” Gia mutter something under her nose “Maybe try to give yourself a little bit of space”.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if you can’t just tell him… don’t force yourself for now” she started to count it on her fingers “Go out, try new stuff like food, maybe a hobby, meet new people, go travel somewhere. Just don’t be in your shared flat. It's stealing your positive energy, you think about him all the time because everything reminds you of him”.

“Should I distance myself?”

“Well, if you don’t want to tell him then why should you keep bringing yourself down everyday” he shrugged her shoulders “Be brave or find another solution, girl. It’s not the end of the world, after all. You know it, you have just proved it with this guy so it can’t be that hard”.

"It’s just difficult because we live together”.

“Then maybe start searching for another flat”.

You bite your lips knowing you couldn’t afford apartment that was as close to your collage as this where you lived. It wasn’t an option and deep down you didn’t want to leave.

“Not possible” you uttered “Not for now” you added so she wouldn’t ask about this topic.

“Do you even talk with Jungkook?”

“Yes, of course I do. I’m not a creep” you rolled your eyes hearing her silly question “Not everyday, though”

“And everything is fine between you two? Is he rude to you or something?”

“Yeah, everything is perfect. We don’t argue and him insulting me? It never happen, but maybe it is because he’s not at home so often” you replied confused by the question „How come?”

„I’m just searching for an excuse for you to ditch your crush” she folded her arms thinking heavily.

“And? How it is going?”

“Terrible” she put it bluntly “He’s fine. I just feel like your relation is neutral”.

“Well, that was the problem till today” you rambles on this time with more sad voice “He just told his friends I’m just a roommate”.

“That’s the truth, you know?”

“What should I do then?” you breathed out the air after you had gave her deadly stare.

“I don’t know maybe mix his socks or…” Gia thought for a second looking for some solutions “Drink his favorite milk or juice or…. break his pad. Nothing could break a man like a damage pad” she gave you examples to make him hate you.

“That would be so stupid” you laughed at her “But I will let this go as a plan C”.

“Not plan B?”

“No, it’s a way too risky for a plan B”.

“There you go, you smile” she beamed at you victoriously “My mission as a best friend is accomplished”.

“You’re crazy, Gia”.

“So are you, but seriously go out to people, stop living only for this shitty idea of romance”.

“But he is not shitty” you moaned leaning your head on her shoulder.

“I know” she hugged you which happened to be very uncomfortable as there was little space in a car.

You took your phone still having her arms around your body.

“See” you press his instagram account.

His account was minimalistic and almost empty, but he still managed to post some photos so anybody could grasp the idea of him. On every picture his tattoos were exposed even long sleeves and hoodies didn't prevent him from showing them off. Just every time he had them more and more on his body and it was a nice view for every female creature. One image was taken in someone's car while he was sitting on the passenger sit looking at his phone with a smile and the other one with his friends with drinks up. That was him.

“Okay, he is a perfect candidate for a hot boyfriend. I must say that” Gia nodded her head in approval looking at the pictures you showed her "He's handsome, but look! Maybe that's it? You are just attracted to him, that's all".

"That's how crushes work" you murmured while starring at his profile picture "It's not like I'm in love".

“Okay that’s enough, we don't have time for these googly eyes" Gia clapped her hands and reached out to you "Give me your phone. I'm confiscating it" she tried to take it away from you but you managed to back away a little bit.

"Forget it, you are not my dad... Hey!" you shouted and laughed at the same time when she snatched away the device "Give it back now".

“I won’t! You need to cut him out from your…” she looked at the screen with panic “Oh”.

“Oh?”

“Is there a chance that you had followed him before?” she asked this question very carefully being scared of your reaction.

“No, why?” your eyebrows snapped together not getting her point.

“Well, now you do”.

“What?!” you screamed trying to get back your phone to see the mess she had made “Oh god, give it to me! What should I do now? Unfollow him?”

“What? No, it would look stupid” she immediately took this idea out of your head “Please, tell me how is it possible that you haven’t followed him before?”

“I don’t know! He didn’t follow me so I didn’t either” you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well maybe he couldn’t find you? You have your name and some random letters in your nick and nothing else. You haven’t even your surname”.

“Namjoon did find me” you murmured in defence.

“Well maybe Jungkook isn’t that smart” Gia shrugged your shoulders.

“Fuck, what now?”

“Just wait. It's only Instagram, right?"

"And following him after few months? I don't think so" you were stressed out.

"I'm so sorry, but it can't be that bad. It's just a follow, (Y/N)".

"First, you tell me to distance myself from him and then in behalf of me you follow the same guy I'm trying to push away. Where's the logic?" you moaned a little bit angry at your friend.

"It was an accident and I'm really sorry" Gia tried to light up the atmosphere as she knew her move made unnecessary problem "Calm down, (Y/N). It's almost nothing".

"I don't know... How did you even... You're right, sorry" you sighed and turned down your phone "I've been thinking too much lately".

You leaned your head on the cold window and closed your eyes. It was high time to focus on yourself which was quite a challenge these days. Of course, you managed to have some days off, but often your head was occupied by negative thoughts and thoughts about Jungkook. But there had to be a limit. You weren't crazy about him, but you weren't indifferent either. You were constantly hanging in a middle and you wanted to get out of it, you had to make a choice on which side you were. It was either to tell him about your crush or keep your mouth shut and move on.

"Should I really tell him?"

"I guess so" she nodded and added “If you don’t want to go crazy in the near future”.

Maybe it should have been considered by you earlier. Confessing would show you if you had a chance with Jungkook or where you were standing when it came to his feelings. It could make your life easier or harder and it was depended on him which drove you nuts. You were mad that you had lost control over it. It seemed like you had it for most of the time - you had been surviving it with a satisfying outcome but something changed for the past few days. It got stronger and more noticeable and at the same time more difficult to cover in his presence. You became skittish and nervous when you spent time together which might be visible on the outside and it was something you strongly wanted to avoid. Maybe it was happening on a purpose. Maybe you should come out to him. You couldn't even hide it well lately, anyway.

"Come on, (Y/N)" she woke you up from intrusive thoughts "Let's go somewhere, we won't sit here forever".

"Let me grab my things" you said putting on your trainers and your cardigan that was laying on the backseat.

You were still siting in Gia's car wrapping material over your body, when you feel buzzing in your pocket so automatically your hand went to your sweatpants. You took your phone and looked at the screen.

"Gia?" your best friend was about to get out from the car, but you stopped her by catching her hand with your eyes glued to your phone.

"Yes?" she turned her head towards you confused by your sudden move.

There was an odd, but pleasant feeling forming around your tummy that indicated your building excitement because of what you had just seen. A lump in your throat was becoming bigger, but somehow you managed to choke out:

"He followed me back, just now".

Gia's eyes went wide. She immediately shut the door with a loud bang and hung over your shoulder to have a better view.

"Let me see that" she whipped your phone from your hands and started to look through the notification completely focused "He liked your photo a minute ago".

"He did?"

"Look" she put the phone so close to your face that you had to pull it away as you didn't see anything from such a distance.

It was your favorite photo of you and your sister's dog Nala. This poor thing struggled with her health as she got diagnosed with cancer when she was on her regular checks at vet's. It was sudden, but fortunately they said it was an early stage, so your sweet Nala had really high chances to survive and she did, but on the condition they had to amputate one paw. It was heart-breaking to see her learning how to walk again. Just before you moved out, you had taken the selfie where only your face and Nala's head was in the frame. Your lips were forming in a duck face and dog stuck out its tongue. Both of you were laying on the fresh green grass and the sky was bright blue then. You remembered it well.

“Just so you know. It indicates nothing. He nas already said he didn’t care, right?" she pointed a finger at you as if she wanted to warn you "Don't overthink it".

"I’m aware, Gia".

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #bts #bts imagines #feeling unreciprocated #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts angst

242 notes · View notes