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bunnylovesani · 6 months

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Daddy Issues

(This is what I imagine him looking like in this fic)

Content warnings: MDNI, reader has daddy issues, 20 year age gap, Anakin is your best friend’s dad, drinking, fingering, dirty talk, general smut with a bit of fluff

WC: 2.6k

You and Leia met in your first year of college and your friendship quickly blossomed. Despite being from the same town, you’d never bumped into each other. If you had, you’re sure you would’ve remembered him. The first time you’d met him was Christmas, 4 years ago; it was your first time coming round to the Skywalker residence and all you knew was that Leia was raised by a single dad, who was now in his 40s. The moment you laid eyes on him, you were fascinated. He had dark blonde hair which curled into golden ringlets at the ends and a mysterious quality about him you were sure made the women weak at the knees- how he’d managed to stay single for most of his life was beyond you.

Despite your fervent initial attraction to him, you tried your best to put all of it aside. Besides the obvious reasons to restrain yourself, he was also the first positive male figure you’d had in your life. He was a damn good father; always present in Leia’s life and, since you two were joined at the hip, by extension yours too. You ignored every sign, every impulse, every sizzling moment of tension that came between you two- tension you naturally assumed was one sided- he’s a decent, respectable man after all.

You had it all under control- until you received a call confirming the graduate program you’d applied for months ago had been accepted. The subsequent week was spent getting daydrunk while hesitantly packing your entire life into a van full of brown boxes- or rather, directing Leia to do it for you since you were too inebriated. It all boiled down to your final night; one last night in the suburbs you’d felt suffocated by your entire life before you moved to the big city to start your shiny new life.

So why did you feel sad? You suspected you knew the reason but spent the better half of an evening denying it and battling the growing urge to pay him a visit. Eventually, when the reality that you were about to leave him forever sunk in, you found your feet taking you out the door of their own volition. Preparing to ambush him with the help of some liquid courage you’d choked down prior to leaving, you rung the doorbell of his house for what you thought may be the last time.

“Oh, hey honey. Leia just left to spend the night at her boyfriend’s house, you just missed her. I thought you’d already said your goodbyes?”. He innocently questions as he opens the door and lets you in.

“I know, it’s you I came to say goodbye to.” You say anxiously, staring at him intensely through your lashes.

“I see, I’m honoured.” He smiles and approaches you, pulling you into a hug. “Good luck with everything sweetheart, stay safe and above all- remember to have fun! Life passes you by in an instant and one day you’ll wake up as old as I am and kick yourself for not grabbing every opportunity you had.”

“Funny you say that, Sir. That’s the exact mantra I’ve adopted recently. Fuck it, right?” You help yourself to the glass of whiskey he was holding out of his hand and take a sip.

“Can I sit with you for a little while?” You plop onto his cushioned couch before he can reply.

“Erm, yeah of course, make yourself at home.” He says welcomingly, though with a perplexed expression on his slightly wrinkled face. “Are you okay?” He wonders if there’s a reason you’re acting so strange. You don’t usually drink.

“I’m great, thank you Sir.” You bat your lashes. “Just feeling sentimental with the circumstances and all.”

“How many times have I said, call me Anakin. I know I’m old but after so many years I’d say we’re on a first name basis.” He chuckles, taking a seat beside you on the sofa, keeping a respectable distance. “I know I’m nothing much to you but I really do think of you and Leia as my girls. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.” He says endearingly, smiling at you kindly.

That’s when you’re reminded of the reason you came here tonight. You had every intention of telling him how you truly felt, how you’d had a raging crush on him from the moment you met him- and now that you might never see him again, you saw no reason why you shouldn’t act on those feelings.

But hearing him compare you to his daughter filled a hole you felt inside you ever since your father abandoned you- while simultaneously making you feel sick to your stomach.

You stared into his warm eyes, encased with crows feet and accompanied by two prominent creases on his forehead. You shouldn’t find a man of his age so attractive but you do.

“You know, I don’t think you’re old.” You state simply.

“What?” He asks somewhat confused by your meaning.

“You said one day I’ll wake up as old as you. I don’t think you’re old at all. If anything, you’re in your prime.” You look away. “You’re not nothing to me either.”

He looks visibly stunned, though he tries to mask it by refilling a glass of whiskey, the brown liquid almost spilling everywhere.

“Right back at you, kid. Well I’m sure you’ve got a lot of packing to do so I won’t keep you. You need a ride?” He shuffles in his seat.

“No. Not the kind of ride you’re thinking of anyway.” A wave of boldness overcomes you and you feel the alcohol burning through your veins as you shuffle closer to him.

“Uh, I think that whiskey’s gone straight to your head. Why don’t I get you some water?” He’s about to get up but you grab him by the hand and force him to stay seated, holding onto it longer than necessary.

“You know how I feel about you Anakin. I know you know.” You stare deep into his mature blue eyes as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with an apprehensive gulp.

“Now that’s enough young lady. You absolutely should not be thinking about me in that way. I’m almost twice your age.” He sternly warns you and you can’t help but wince. The way he’s scolding you is triggering some deep rooted daddy issues. You knew you always had them to some extent but you never knew just how bad they were until you met Anakin.

“I dont mean to make you uncomfortable, I just couldn’t hold it back anymore. I’ll leave right now if you want me to, you’ll never see me again. Just tell me you don’t feel anything towards me and I’ll be on my way.” You’re huddled over him with your legs on the sofa, hand slowly inching its way towards his thigh.

A flash of conflicting emotions run through his eyes- he’s obviously embarrassed, perhaps shocked - though you find it hard to believe he had no clue at all- but there’s something else. He’s debating with himself, you can see the cogs whirring in his mind.

“I can’t say that.” He meets your gaze. “I care about you a lot, you know that. Which is why you need to leave. You’re not in the right state of mind.” He gets up again but you pull him down and climb onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I have been in love with you for 4 years, Anakin. You are my every waking thought. I know it’s wrong and you’d never be with me but I can’t control myself. If I can’t have you forever, let me have just this one night- please.” You wait for him to object to the way you’re sitting on him but to your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Alright, honey.” He grumbles softly after a little while, looking at you with a subdued expression that conveyed both concern and understanding. “Alright, if that’s what you want, I’ll give you what you want. I’m yours for the night.”

You sit there, stunned. You were fully expecting him to kick you out of the house and tell Leia everything. You were expecting anything other than him giving in. Is he just taking pity on you and thinks this will help you get over your daddy issues? He knows you have them. Or is he as sick and twisted as you are?

“Can…can I…” You lean in, pressing your fingertips against his lips.

“Leave it all to me sweetheart. Daddy will make it all better.” He wastes no time taking your hands into his own and kissing your fingertips softly, before pressing his lips against yours.

You’re too stunned to react so you allow him to kiss your motionless lips, your eyes still wide open in disbelief. You’d never been so grateful to someone for taking the lead.

“Close those pretty eyes for me baby, you’re safe now.” He kisses your eyelids softly and his gentle caresses awaken a deep urge within you.

You grab at his collared shirt, loosening his tie and unbuttoning it. “Been working more late nights at the office?” You mumble into his lips as you push the crisp white shirt off his shoulders, leaving his muscles exposed.

“That’s because I have two women in my life who bleed me dry.” He chuckles and you smile at the memory; he’s shelled out for you on more than one occasion- from plane tickets and birthday gifts to a new MacBook for college because your one broke and you couldn’t afford another since you’d been fired from your waitressing job- he even agreed that that guy deserved to get a drink thrown in his face for grabbing you. He said that if he were there, he would’ve done worse.

Before you freefall into a psychoanalytical hole, Anakin rips your skirt off - it’s as if he can hear your mind working overtime. You gasp a little as he kneads the fat of your ass cheeks roughly, guiding you until you’re grinding against him. You can feel him getting hard, and oh did it feel big. You’d stolen subtle glances at his crotch on numerous occasions, contemplating what it might look like, what colour the tip might be, what it might taste like. You couldn’t bare to be left in the dark any longer so you reached for his belt and impatiently started undoing it- but you were stopped by his large hands cupping yours.

“Not just yet princess. I wanna take my time with you.” He whispered coarsely and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine. Before you knew it, he had spun you around so that you were sitting on his lap with your back facing his front. He traced his tongue in big open kisses along your neck while his hands trailed up and down your thighs, before he hooked his fingers around your panties.

“Lets get these off shall we?” He purred and his words sent sparks straight down to your core. He lowered your underwear only down to your knees, before spreading your legs a little, his hand placed under one of your thighs to keep it up. You felt the cold air hit you and knew instantly that you were soaked.

You breathing was reduced to short little pants as his fingers reached the inner folds of your pussy, and it felt like every caress touched your soul. You started squirming about in his lap as two of his fingers slid into you.

“Goddamn… oh baby, I didnt even mean for that to happen but you’re just so wet they slipped right in.” You mewled at his lustful words as he curled his fingers inside you, rubbing your clit with the base of his thumb.

“Oh Ani…ah fuck!.” You cried. “Anakin!”

“Yes sweetheart, what is it?” Gaining speed, he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand and turned your head to force you to look at him but you were too stimulated to respond.

“Do you hear how wet you are? And here I thought you were a good girl.” He maintains eye contact and your cheeks flush at the lewd sounds coming from your core. You take a glance and see his hand is glistening with your arousal, wetness squelching as it pours down to the Rolex on his wrist.

“Aah…I, I’m sorry daddy! Mm can’t help it” You manage to squeal out, embarassed by how wet and helpless he made you.

“Don’t you dare apologise sweetheart. Daddy loves how wet this pussy gets. Is this all for me?”

“Yes, yes Sir it’s all for you- mm all yours!” You moan as you feel your climax fast approaching. “Please can I cum? Pleasee daddy!”

“Yes princess, cum for me.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you at such a tempo you have to hold onto his arms for stability.

As if someone opened a dam, your orgasm washes over you and you let out a stupified scream- you wanted to say his name but your brain is so scrambled all you can manage is a mumbled moan of incoherent syllables.

“Such a good girl baby, well done honey.” He plants kisses all over your cheek and neck as your heart rate climbs down.

As you come down from your high, the realisation of what you’re doing dawns on you. As if he could read your mind, he takes your face into his hands.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours? If you think you’ll regret it, tell me now. I don’t think I could handle it if we made love and you woke up regretting it.” He speaks softly, as if being too harsh might scare you away.

“No, no it’s not you.” You quickly respond. “I just feel a little cheap. I don’t ever have one night stands so I’m kinda out of my depth here… and the guilty thoughts about Leia creeping up on me don’t help either.”

“Hey, you’re not cheap.” You scoff at his attempt to reassure you. “Stop that, I mean it. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you regardless of the outcome of this. But…I mean I’m out of my depth here too. If we’re being honest, I haven’t had sex in years.” Anakin admits and your jaw drops. How could a man this damn fine not get laid for that long?

“It’s a personal choice.” He corrects before you jump to any conclusions about what might be wrong with him. “I don’t like one night stands either and if I’m not in love, I have no real interest in sex.” Your heart leaps at the insinuation- if he’s willing to sleep with you, that must mean…right?

“So let’s not have a one night stand then.” He continues and your heart drops. I guess you thought wrong.

“Let’s keep seeing each other. I ache all over at the thought of this being the last time I see you. I need you in my life. I don’t care if it’s wrong, I don’t care what people say. Leia will come round to the idea eventually, she has to.”

“I love you.” You reply a little too quickly, staring at him with so much admiration you think your heart might burst.

“I love you too, my sweet girl.”

Part 2

#anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars smut #sam monroe #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x you #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #life as a house

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cowboyfromh3ll · 7 months

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Hcs for the boys' toxic traits. Preferably arthur, javier, john, and charles, but other boys are welcome too! I'm curious to see what you'd say Dutch's toxic traist are, though they're pretty self explanatory 😭

I just love how you write sm sorreyyyy

Van Der Linde Gang's Toxic traits

(Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, John Marston, Charles Smith, Micah Bell, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sean Macguire, Kieran Duffy, Eagle Flies)

HAHAHA THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE. I tried not to sugarcoat anything.

Arthur Morgan - He definitely has some trouble communicating. Not to say he never will communicate with you but it'll be long in between and after it's been plaguing him for a milenium. As we've seen, this man is capable of having deep, well thought out conversations. He'd also be pretty prideful to some degree. Mostly depends what point in time you start dating, later in game he'd be able to see past his pride. Also, I feel like if you were dating a major point of contention in your relationship would be questioning whether it's time to move on from this life.

Javier Escuella - WAY too jealous. I don't even mean it in a cute way but in a way that would genuinely cause several arguments between you two. "Why were you looking at him that way?" "That sounded like you were flirting with him" "Why do you spend so much time around the other guys?" Would also be around you 24/7. Someone would be incapable of having a conversation with you that doesn't include Javier. You two would also argue about Dutch's leadership skills.

John Marston - Oh my God this man is so indecisive. Doesn't know what he wants ever. In a modern setting you two would be sitting in the car, asking each other back and forth "what do you wanna eat?". And his commitment issues? Good lord. At some points in your relationship it'd probably feel like you guys aren't dating at all. You'd probably have to beg him to put some effort into the relationship to be honest.

Charles Smith - It's so hard to think of ANYTHING this man can do wrong but alas, I must. You probably wouldn't be his top priority at all times. Which isn't to say you should ALWAYS be at the top of his list, but sometimes it can result in your feelings being neglected over a situation that affects you. Only when the day reaches it's end will he consult you over something, which will have you feeling incredibly frustrated.

Micah Bell - This man is a walking red flag so let's not dance around his flaws. Incredibly prideful, will ignore your warnings over something just to get his way. Also probably lies to you A LOT. Can be way too rough with you in many aspects. Also this man embodies the word sleezy. Yuck.

Dutch Van Der Linde - Do I even need to say. So fucking stubborn. He also probably thinks he's intelectually superior to you. If you bring up a concern to him he'll probably use as many flowery and big words as possible to make himself appear smarter during the discussion than he actually is. And if you advise him to do anything he'll probably just ignore you, saying you don't know what you're talking about. All in all, thinks he's better than you. Also you're probably a trophy wife since Dutch views women as accessories to his success, if you can even call it success.

Sean Macguire - He doesn't take anything seriously. If you're trying to have a genuine discussion with him he'll play it down and make it seem less important or severe than it actually is. Don't even bother trying to emphasize how serious you are because he won't take that seriously either. It's only until he feels the consequences of his actions will he listen to you, which results in a frustrating cycle.

Kieran Duffy - Also very indecisive but in the way where he can't speak up for himself because he doesn't think it's important. Has such low self esteem, he also probably thinks his emotions are less important which results in a lot of miscommunication on his behalf. Sorta just let's you take the lead all the way, always let's you have your way, with no valuable input of his own. You have to shake his shoulders and beg for him to actually speak his mind.

Eagle Flies - He's probably so childish. Like, mommy issues CEO over here. Will probably seek for you to fulfill that role in his life. Has almost no control over his emotions and has trouble identifying them, and when he does indentify them, has absolutely no idea what to do with them in terms of expression. He will make various efforts to communicate with you but will struggle immensely. Being with him will probably be like teaching a man how to experience emotions in a healthy way. I could write an entire post dedicated to what I think his toxic traits are

More eagle flies ones

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uhdrienne · 4 months

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𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 (𝐱.𝐦𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

💌 feat: idol!minghao x non-celebrity!reader (angst, i almost cried planning this oneshot)

💌 summary: once a dream relationship with the love of your life, now doomed to fail because of the media, you can only hope that minghao will think of you again -- even if it's in your wildest dreams.

💌 word count: 3.25k words

a/n: inspired by taylor swift's 'wildest dreams', bolded and italic words signify the lyrics!

"He said let's get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds..."

You sing the lyrics softly, looking out of the car window.

"Ironic," Your boyfriend chuckles from next to you, eyes trained ahead as he drives on the never-ending road, winding into evermore. "Exactly what we're doing now."

You let out a laugh, leaning your head on the window as he raises your interlinked hands to press a kiss on the back of your hand. "That we are, dear."

The sunset winds into the distance and shines, just the way you like it, and you pull out your camera, letting go of Minghao's hand to snap photos, much to his dismay.

"Hey," He nudges you after you're done admiring the way the oranges and yellows twist and intertwine in all the right places, and holds his hand out again. "Hold."

You pat his cheek affectionately and take his hand.

Thirty minutes later, the same man offers you his arm to hoist you up onto the roof of the van, where he insisted was the most beautiful place on earth.

You lay your head on his shoulder and sigh in content.

The sunset could shine all it wanted, and be the largest and prettiest thing in the sky, but nothing would beat the man who was currently nestled into your side, arms snug around you and smiling with the awe and love of a lifetime.

The photo you take of you two is now framed in your shared house, and your phone next to the photo frame buzzes and lights up.

"Happy two years dear, I love you to the moon and back. Sorry I had to go back to the city, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"Nothing lasts forever... but this is gonna take me down..."

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, Hao, don't be sorry," you cajole. "We'll be okay. What did the company say?"

"They'll be releasing a statement." Minghao sounds half-frustrated, half sad as he paces around, you can hear his footsteps scuffing the floor. "They're trying to do damage control, but the media is already eating it up. People are spreading the photos and I just-- I'm sorry you have to go through this. I know we wanted to keep us private."

"It was going to come out at some point," You sigh. "We both knew that."

"But it shouldn't have happened this way." Minghao counters.

"I know," You murmur, "But don't think too much and worry. We'll be fine. I love you, and I'll see you tonight, okay?"

With the promise of seeing him and spending the night together, you hang up.

Two years is a lot, you tell yourself. He'll stick by you and you'll have the ending you always dreamed of with him.

But along with the consolation came a sense of dread. Were you convincing him or yourself?

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"I can see the end, as it begins, my one..condition..is…"

"Minghao?" Your voice is meek, so scared, soft and vulnerable.

Minghao hates the way the happiness in your voice has disappeared.

"Darling?"

"Th-there's reporters shouting outside," You say, clutching the phone tight as if you could gain comfort from it. "Lots of them with cameras. They... I think you might have been followed home last night. They probably waited for you to leave."

"Shit," he curses. "Wait for me, I'll be right there."

"No!" Your voice cuts through. "You can't. Y-you'll be ambushed. I know how scary the paparazzi can get. I just--"

"Baby," He says, tears welling up in his eyes, because you’re right. He would be torn to shreds. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, a million times over. You don't deserve any of this, I-"

"No more of that," You whisper, and he goes quiet. "I love you. All I need is you. If this is what we must go through for me to be with you... so be it."

"I love you," he chokes out through a haze of tears and anguish. "I love you so, so, much, you have no idea."

"I love you too, Hao," You reply, and say that you'll hide out for a while so they'll leave before hanging up.

Minghao slumps down and cries like he's never cried before.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"I said, "No one has to know what we do", his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room...And his voice is a familiar sound..."

"Baby!" He races to you, sitting in the living room, still slightly shaken. He engulfs you in a hug. "I'm so sorry, I'll be sorry for the rest of my life..."

"It wasn't your fault," You reply softly, pulling back to cup his face, drawn and blotchy with tears. "Love you lots."

He wipes at your eyes, slightly swollen with your tears, ears still ringing with the shouts and camera clicks, eyes still seeing stars with the flashes as you stepped out to threaten calling the police.

"I love you," He weeps, clutching at the material of your clothes. "Why can't I just love you without other people getting involved?"

And you don't have an answer to that, so you just pull him in and press your mouth to his. It's salty with his tears, and he's shaking, but he hugs you tight, grip firm and unwavering.

He whispers promises into your skin, swears to every higher being that he'll keep you safe, promises that he'll love you for the rest of his life, and no one could keep him away from you, you both were too strong together for that. He tells you things will get better, they have to.

You believe him as you come undone, the tears staining the sheets beneath you.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"And when we've had our very last kiss...my last request...is.."

From that day on, everything changes, as much as you both vow to prevent it from happening.

Kisses are still shared, and movies are watched. His arms wind around you as you go to sleep, but those events are few and far between as he shuttles between you and the city, fulfilling his career.

When he comes home, he's either too tired to do anything, and you're not exactly inclined to ruin the one moment of peace he finally has for him.

What used to be a sanctuary of love and laughter and life, is now just an empty shell. Two people cohabiting in a desperate attempt to keep the flame kindled, huddling together for warmth.

You can feel it, and you know he can, too.

Things haven't gotten easier like he claimed. Your love hasn't dwindled one bit, but the media has only gotten more ferocious, even now hounding your workplace and regular haunts. You're practically confined within the walls of your home, either alone or with Minghao.

No more sunset dates. No more shared giggles under a blanket fort, no more pillow fights as he tackles you. No more late-afternoon cuddles as thin sunlight slants into the room. No more midnight instant noodle sessions. No more of anything. Silence overtakes, and the days drag by.

You know it's bubbling, the frustration, the anger at the media and at the world for being absolute busybodies, at Minghao (you don't know why), and at yourself.

And it's only a matter of time before it boils over.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

You explode in the worst way possible.

It starts when Minghao comes home, looking even more tired than usual. You don’t even look up to greet him anymore as he trudges into the room, simply humming in acknowledgement. The spark in your eyes long gone, your smile feigned.

Perhaps those were the tell-tale signs of a relationship long gone. The spark wasn’t there. None of the previous joy you felt when he came home was there.

Were you falling out of love with him? ..No, that couldn’t be it. You knew you loved him for years, ever since you set eyes on him at an art museum, and you would always love him. Now, you just felt nothing but sadness when you saw him. If it wasn’t love, you would have only felt indifference.

None of you spoke about the reporters. It was like they didn't exist, only you knew it was the opposite, with them clamouring outside, with no reprieve. It was to the point where you had to lock every door and window for fear they would break in. Yet, both of you avoided the topic like a taboo, while it loomed over your bond like a dark cloud.

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t that you wanted this relationship to end, it was more like… you just knew it would.

What you had with Minghao would not end well. It would only end.

“Hey,” He speaks for the first time since coming home. “How was your day?”

“Nothing much,” You reply, and the kitchen goes silent.

He knew your day was nothing much. He knew why it was nothing much too. You couldn’t even go out without being mobbed by shouting reporters and blinding cameras. How well could your day have went?

“Dinner?” You ask, and he shrugs. “Sure.”

It was sad, really, you note, how quickly a conversation could end. So pitiful that a couple of over two years, who always never had enough to say to each other, had nothing to say now.

You finish dinner in silence, only the clinking of cutlery to fill in the vacancy of your voices.

After dinner he walks to the living room and you to your phone. You open up the three messages that have appeared to view them, but let out a shriek and throw your phone on the couch next to Minghao.

He raises his eyebrows at you in confusion and picks your phone up when you look back at him, eyes wide in panic.

His eyes widen the same way when he sees the graphic content of the message, the threat of the malicious sender reverberating through his mind.

“This— you…” He trails off.

“Is-is that a knife?!” You yelp. “This person just sent me a photo of a knife and threatened to kill me!”

“Baby, wait—” Minghao gets up and reaches for you, but you shrink back. “D-don’t.”

His jaw tightens as he registers the fact that you’re afraid of him. That a devil hiding behind a screen was enough to scare you away from him, the person who loved you to the ends of the earth.

“Okay.” He steps back. “Please…don’t be scared of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Not you,” was your only whisper.

He furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“Not you,” You speak up, slightly louder than before. “Just… the fact that the rumour is out, the media at our door… we no longer have anything to say to each other… it hurts me beyond what you know.”

“I’m trying, love,” Minghao says, quietly.

“I know you are,” You reply. “Like I said, it’s not your fault.”

“But you’re hurt,” Minghao protests. “I’m hurt too, you know? I can’t even bring you out, let you live a normal life and be with you as I want. It’s not fair to me, either.”

“Nothing was fair from the moment the articles broke,” You reply softly, tears coming to your eyes. “That what we have is seen like…a mistake. A sin. That you, just loving someone, is the greatest wrongdoing. That reporters found the need to stay at our door just for pictures of us. That someone found the need to threaten to kill me.”

“That’s not fair,” Minghao protests again, tears welling up too. “You’re not the only one suffering here. I am too! My career, my relationship, all of that shoved into the limelight. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I don’t,” You answer. “I know I will never fully understand your situation. All I’m asking is…can’t we just—”

“Pretend nothing happened? Go on with this?” Minghao’s voice cracks. “You don’t want that. You do not. We can’t.”

“Why not?” You ask.

“Because nothing will ever be the same! Nothing we do can let us go back to before. You are hurt and stuck here, I am done for, we are now shackled here—”

“Shackled?” You ask quietly. “Is this what it is?”

“No, I—”

“I think I’ve known for a while,” You say. “That it’s not ‘if’ we will end, it’s when we will.”

“W-What?”

“There isn’t anything there anymore, Hao,” You throw your hands up. “Hell, we don’t even have anything to say to each other!”

“What can I say?! That my career is half ruined, my relationship dying away, my fans threatening to end us both?!”

You turn away, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “You should go, Minghao. I...I don’t want to keep you here if you don’t want to be. I'm so sorry...”

"Why won't you fight for us?" His voice is a deathly whisper.

"What?"

"Why... I know it's hard but... why-why are you giving up?"

"Giving up...?"

"You gave up on us." He breaks into a sob. "We don't talk because every time I look at you, I can't help but keep thinking about how much better your life could have been. You could go on sunset drives whenever you want. You could have spent night after night in blanket forts without a care in the damn world, without worrying that one day someone's going to break the door down and do something to you. You-"

"Thinking like that was always meaningless without you, Hao," You let out a humourless laugh. "All I wanted to do those things with was you."

"We can still do it all," He says, striding towards you. "I told you. I won't leave you."

"But you have to." You murmur back. "I've seen the reports. You're one of the highest-rising stars now. You're worlds away from where I am. And just being me, being bombarded with attention like this, attention I don't want, day in and day out, it... it suffocates me."

"So that's it?" He asks dejectedly. "You don't want me anymore?"

"I do want you, it's all I want," You try to gesture, try to tell him what you mean, but he shakes his head.

"You used to say that with so much life. Now... it's like a stranger telling me that." You look at him, eyes pleading, tears spilling over.

He takes a step back, eyes scanning you like it's the last time he'll see you. "I'm so, so sorry I put you through this. I-I'll go. I'll go now."

He comes forward and cups your face. He leans in, and kisses your forehead. The delicate action and gentleness of it all, combined with the salty tang of his tears, makes you tear up again.

“Say you remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe…”

You register the front door closing behind him. He’s gone, and God knows if he’ll ever return.

That night, you turn off the lights, make sure the windows are closed, but you leave the wooden door unlocked. You never locked it when he hadn’t come back.

You tuck yourself in, the way you like it, the way Minghao does it, and fall into a fitful sleep, the last words you uttered to each other ringing in your head.

When you wake up the next morning, Minghao hasn’t come back.

Something just tells you he won’t return this time.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

“Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you’ll see me again…” The tinny sound from the aged record player plays, prompting you to hum along to the tune.

“XU MINGHAO, singer, makes record-breaking return to the stage, set to perform...”

“Three years on — where is XU MINGHAO’s mysterious ex-partner now?”

“Woman spotted outside his apartment — liar or lover?”

You close the papers.

You smile. He’s on top of the world, just like he dreamed.

And you… you were just here. Alone, but moderately content, and at peace.

The media had left you alone from the third week that Minghao didn’t return. They probably deemed you less newsworthy, you muse, as you pour yourself another cup of coffee.

You sip coffee as you sift through your mail. You pick up an envelope, and smile at your friend’s invitation to an awards ceremony. Knowing that you were a fan of one of the performing ballad singers, she, as part of the management team, had taken it upon herself to secure you a ticket.

You get up and stretch. It was time to go to the city.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"And now, winning the most prestigious award of the night, the Artist of the Year..." The announcer smiles, stage makeup bold and sparkling against the lights. She steals a look at the card in her hand, takes a deep breath.

"Xu Minghao!"

Your hand flies to your mouth as the big screen shows his face, smiling as he waves, bows, and walks to the stage. You don't look out of place, as just about every fangirl is doing the same. Tears come to your eyes and you blink them away.

He's just as dashing as ever. Decked in a smart suit and jacket to match, with small, sleek hoops in his ears, and lips curved in a charming smile, he accepts the award and addresses the crowd.

"I...I'm beyond honoured to stand here today," His eyes dart about, trying to capture every pair of eyes from his vision. "You know I owe just about everything to my fans, new and old, my family, and my friends who've been with me through everything."

He visibly swallows. "And there's one more person, one really, really special person I want to thank."

He stretches out his hand and smiles as if beckoning to someone, and a beautiful lady hesitantly steps up, dressed in a gorgeous champagne-coloured gown, soft curls in her hair, a bounce in her step.

"She saw me through the darkest period of my life," He says, clutching onto the lady's hand like a lifeline. "From strangers to friends, from friends to lovers, I want her to know she's my day one."

The cameras and fans go wild, everyone clamouring to get a better glimpse as the woman smiles at him, full of adoration like he once used to look at you, and they share an embrace on the stage, the host cutting in to sing praises of the newly hard-launched couple.

Meanwhile, you sit, rooted to your place, as you watch them. But it isn't overwhelming sadness that engulfs you. It isn't any form of bitterness or resentment. The sweet tang of pride, that he can now freely love, and gratitude, that his new love was doing what you failed to, rests on your tongue.

You rise to your feet. As you're in a row closer to the front, it isn't hard to get out. As you walk towards the exit, you glance back one last time, only to have shock rain down on you as he locks eyes with you from the stage.

The shock dies away swiftly, only to be replaced by soft joy. You smile slightly and nod at him once, with nothing but sincerity in your eyes, and watch the relief sag on his shoulders as he smiles and nods back. Even with no words shared, he knows you've both found your ending.

"Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah, huh..."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

writer's note:

first ever oneshot and this was...sad? but also i wrote this in one day and almost decided not to publish it because it was so rough lol

but please enjoy! any feedback and interactions are welcome :> thank you for reading!!

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alwaysonthemend · 1 year

Text

A Lazy Night | JTK

Author’s Note: Request from bestie @iheartjakekiszka for a fluffy Jake fic. I made myself Very Sad with this one because soft Jakey makes me want to sob bc I can’t have him. Alas… Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Unbeta’d so apologies for any mistakes. Now please excuse me while I go drink wine and think soft Jake thoughts.

Summary: Jake and the band have been working non stop on their new album. But, with a long weekend on the horizon, you decide to give Jake a night of relaxation and rest. Lord knows he needs it.

Content Warnings: Literally none. Just fluff.

Word Count: 1968

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Meeting Jake Kiszka has been the best thing that ever happened to you. From the very first time you met him, you had immediately known that he was the one. There was something about him that drew you in, and there was no going back.

Because of this, you couldn't help but to divide your life into two halves. There was Before Meeting Jake and After Meeting Jake. The before had been okay. You had a successful job – however boring it was, and you were happy. You’d had a handful of relationships – though few of them ever lasted long. But life was good. Boring, but good. And then Jake waltzed into your life. And only after did you ever realize how empty the before had been. Jake was your light, and you couldn’t fathom how you had ever managed without him in your life. He made falling in love easy. Jake had entered your heart quickly and made a home there.

The only downside to being in a relationship with Jake was the distance. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and you couldn’t agree more. While you're proud of Jake and the fame that he and Greta Van Fleet had acquired, you can’t help but miss him when he’s on tour and desperately wish that he would come home. But his time away only makes the times that he is home that much more special.

Unfortunately, despite Jake not currently being on tour, it still felt like he was never home. The boys were busy putting together their new album, and so Jake was either at the studio with them or running around doing interviews and photoshoots. You got to see him at night, of course. But often, despite his tiredness, he would stay up much later than you to go work on his ideas for new songs. You had work in the morning and so – no matter how much you wanted to, you could rarely stay up late enough to fall asleep with him.

Tonight was probably going to be one of those nights. It’s already 10 PM and Jake was only just walking through the door of your house, guitar case in hand and eyes excited but tired.

“Hey, Jake.” You say, rising from your place on the couch to go and greet him. He places his guitar case on the ground and wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight.

“Hey, babe. I missed you.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, pressing his nose unto your skin, eyes closed. You breathe in his scent, immediately taking comfort in the smell of vanilla and something else that you couldn't define as anything other than just “Jake.”

“I missed you, too. You look tired.” You pull away from him, noting the tightness around his eyes and the tension in his shoulders.

“I am. But it was a good day. We got a lot done, so me and the guys decided that we’d take the rest of the week off.”

“Really? That’s awesome! And I’m off tomorrow anyways so we can have a whole three days to ourselves!” You exclaim, practically beaming with excitement. Jake gives you a soft smile, touched by your desire to spend time with him.

“Thank God.” He says, walking over to the couch and collapsing into it. “I feel exhausted. I love working on music and we’re having a lot of fun. But holy shit…” He leans his head back on the back of the couch and closes his eyes. “I feel like I could sleep for ten years.”

“You probably need to.” You tell him, walking over to the kitchen. “Did you eat already? I can fix you something if you’re hungry.”

“Nah, I’m okay. I’m too tired to eat.”

You tsk as you grab two wine glasses from the cabinet and grab a bottle of red wine from the counter. You pour yourself and Jake a generous amount.

“That’s not very healthy, Jakey.” You say, walking back into the living room.

“And wine is a better alternative?” He chuckles, taking the glass that you offer him to take a sip.

“Better than nothing, I suppose.” You take a seat next to him, happy to just share the space with him. “So, tell me about the album? How’s it going?”

He grins, his eyes lighting up. No matter how tired he is, he’s always excited to talk about music.

“It’s great! I think we’re really making something special. It’s a little different from what we’ve done before, but I think the fans will like it.” He takes a thoughtful sip. “I think… It's just different enough that it’s fresh and exciting. But similar enough to Garden’s Gate that the fans will still like it. We’re trying to toe the line as much as we can – keep what’s worked in the past without getting repetitive, ya know?”

You smile at his passion. Seeing the man you love get to do something he enjoys so much, with thousands of fans who adore him as much as you do – it’s an amazing feeling.

“Whatever you guys do, I know it’s going to be amazing. You all are so talented. The fans will love it no matter what.”

He finishes his glass of wine and places it on the coffee table.

“Thank you, y/n.” He leans back onto the sofa and a grimace flickers across his face. It’s so fast you probably would have missed it had you not been studying his face so closely.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, babe,” He says, giving you a crooked grin. “My back is just a little sore. Spending a lot of time crouched over a guitar.” He laughs, but you recognize the tightness around his eyes to be pain, not just tiredness. You place your own glass on the table next to his and stand up, offering him your hand.

“Come on.”

“Where to?” He asks, already standing and taking your hand.

“You’re gonna lay down and I’m going to give you a massage.”

His eyes fill with a mischievous sparkle.

“Not that kind of massage, Jake.” You scold, leading him up the stairs to your bedroom. “An actual message that will hopefully help your back.”

“Fine.” He sighs, smiling at you as you drag him to the bed.

“Take your shirt off and then lay down on your stomach. I’m going to make it a little more comfortable in here..”

“Yes ma’am.” Jake takes off his shoes and shirt and watches you as you move around, lighting the candles that you have scattered across the room. Jake sinks into the bed just as you turn off the overhead light, the only light now coming from the soft glow of the candles.

“Y/n?” Jake asks as you walk into the bathroom to grab some lotion.

“Yeah, babe?”

You walk back into the bedroom to see Jake laying on his back, eyes soft as he looks at you.

“I should have eaten dinner like you said because I think that wine went straight to my head.”

He giggles, and you notice the flush that’s overtaken his cheeks and chest. You just laugh and shake your head, taking a moment to admire him in the candle light. His hair is pulled back in a loose bun, with little wisps falling out and framing his face. It looks so soft and you want nothing more than to run your fingers through it. Your eyes move downwards, again noting the flush on his chest before your eyes find his soft stomach – no doubt your most favorite thing about him. If he wasn’t so tired and the mood was a little different you’d take the opportunity to bite him. Instead, you walk softly over to the side of the bed and nudge his shoulder.

“Roll over on your stomach, baby. Just relax.”

He complies, and you climb up onto the bed. You nudge his legs apart and you gently sink down and straddle his waist.. You squirt some lotion onto your hands and warm it up between your palms before splaying your hands out on his shoulder blades. Immediately, Jake lets out a sigh of relief and you can feel him relax further into the bed. You begin to message him, and you can clearly feel the knots in his upper back and shoulders.

“Jesus, Jake. No wonder your back hurts.” You say, working your hands down his shoulders and kneading your fingerstips into his biceps. “You’re so tight back here.”

“I know.” He mumbles, voice muffled by the pillows. “It’s been hurting for a while but…” He trails off and sighs as you find a particularly tense knot in his back.

“You should have said something and I could have helped you sooner, babe.” You say, sliding your hands down farther to his lower back.

“Didn’t wanna bother you.” He says quietly.

“Jake…” You say, reaching out to turn his head towards you. His chocolate eyes are glassy with sleep and wine. “That’s what I’m here for. I want to help you.”

He gives you a lazy smile.

“I know. But I still feel bad.”

“Don’t ever feel bad. I love you. And I love helping you in any way I can.”

He huffs a laugh and lowers his face back down into the pillow.

“I love you too, y/n. So much.”

You continue your massage on his back, slowly but surely working out the knots and tension. You relish in the feeling of his skin underneath your hands. He’s warm and his scent is so comforting. You feel more at ease than you have in months. Eventually, you hear his soft snores and you rise carefully from his back. You pull the covers over him and take a moment to watch him. The tightness around his eyes is gone, replaced with a softness that you hadn’t seen in a while. His mouth is slightly parted, and his lips look so soft. It’s moments like this that make all of the absence worth it. One moment with Jake like this is worth all the hours of missing him. You’re overcome with a feeling of complete unworthiness. You can’t believe a man like this has fallen in love with you. Of all the people in the world, it’s you that he allows himself to be this vulnerable around. You feel like if you think about it too long you might cry so you shake your head and begin to quietly walk around your bedroom to blow out all the candles. Jake doesn’t stir as you walk to the bathroom to put the lotion away. You walk as quietly as possible back to the bed and crawl in next to him, pressing your back to him and closing your eyes.

‘Mmmm.” He mumbles, cracking his eyes open. “y/n?”

“Go back to sleep, Jakey.” You whisper.

He mumbles something unintelligible before rolling onto his side to face you and slinging his arm around your waist. He pulls you tight against his chest and presses his face into your hair, breathing in deeply.

“Don’t deserve you.” He whispers.

“You deserve the world, rockstar.” You’re met with nothing but his soft snores.

You smile and close your eyes.

#greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka #jake gvf #gvf fanfic #jake kiszka fluff

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thetaleoflevi · 11 months

Text

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Rediscovered

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Pairing: Levi x f!reader

Content: Modern AU, SFW

Content Warnings: None, they’re just two people who love to spend time with each other.

Description: Levi rediscovers love and all the things that make it so special. He gets to know you, his new next door neighbor, and you help him see what causes lovers to do so much for one another.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: I’m sorry I made you wait so long, if you even stuck around this long lol. I was burnt out and I ran out of ideas to write. I couldn’t think of what to write for my series that I started then dumped, so I went on a break. This is what i’ve been working on for a little and it’s not the best if I’m being honest, but I did want to put something out for the first time in a while. Enjoy! :)

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Levi who thinks love is a waste of time and money. He thinks, what the hell is a month-iversary? And why is it even a thing? He would never spend more than three dollars on chocolates, and that’s a stretch already. What kind of person needs an enormous stuffed bear on their bed in addition to just regular pillows? Why does everything have to be so physical? Personal space is sacred.

That is until he experiences the strongest sugar rush he’s had in almost two years. It seemed like some vicious prank played on him by the universe.

You walked into the apartment next to Levi’s, carrying a box that was a little less than half your size. The moving van you rented was parked nearby so that you didn’t have to travel long distances to move your boxes. Levi noticed that despite you having an entire moving van, there wasn’t much loaded into it. Maybe another four boxes, but that’s all he could see. Maybe your stay was only temporary.

It took you some time to introduce yourself. Not because you were trying to be antisocial, but because you didn’t know if it was normal to knock on your neighbor’s door and introduce yourself, instead of doing the usual run-in quick introduction.

Levi was nice enough. He didn’t say much, mostly listened to your quick presentation. The handshake was what got him, though. His formal façade almost cracked when you extended your hand to him. He held it together for the sake of professionalism, but deep down he felt like a father meeting his daughter’s boyfriend for the first time.

“Well, don’t be a stranger,” you said, a lovely smile on your face as you turned and went back into your new home. It was such a corny thing to say, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed when you smiled at him like that. It would be a crime in some other universe.

It had been a while since Levi had a next-door neighbor. The apartment was vacant for a good six months before you. Now, he could hear life just a few feet away. You blasted music really late into the night, and in all honesty, it got on his nerves.

On one night when work tore down his thin wall of patience, he came home hoping to get some much needed rest. By the time he reached the stairs that led to your and his apartment, he could hear your music fighting the walls. He rung the doorbell, hoping the sound would get to your ears despite the loudness surrounding your home. He was fed up with everything and couldn’t handle another night of this. You must have heard the doorbell because your music paused a few seconds later.

You looked cozy when you opened the door. “Hi, Levi.” You smile that smile that continues to flatter him. “Is there something I can help you with?”

His mind is racking up a polite response. He just wants to be in bed already.

“Yes, actually. The walls are surprisingly thin on these apartments, and i’m sure you aren’t really playing your music too loud, but I was wondering if you could turn it down a bit.” He puts his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling like an old man interrupting a high school party.

Your face drops and you look like you just disturbed a sleeping puppy.

“I’m sorry about that.” You sounded sincere— adorably so. “I’ll turn it off. I wasn’t aware of the thinness of the walls, but i’m so sorry you had to ask.”

Your kindness was refreshing. You weren’t like his last neighbor. Levi and him didn’t interact much, but when they did, it was a mutually awkward ‘hey’.

“Don’t worry about it.” Levi sighs. “Sorry i’m here wasting your time. It’s just been an especially… testing day for me, and I just want to get some rest.”

“Don’t apologize. I completely understand.” You open the door more so that not just half of your body is peeking out of the doorway.

Levi gets a look at your full outfit. You looked like a bear with your oversized wool hoodie and your baggy pajama pants and your dog slippers. Oh. You have dog slippers on.

“Well, I should be going now. I don’t want to stand in the way of whatever you were doing. Thanks for understanding.” Levi was trying so hard to get out of there. There was a poking in his chest that he had to look into.

“Do you like tea?” You asked. Levi seemed distracted to you, but you thought maybe it was the tiredness taking a toll on his ability to think.

“I do. Why do you ask?”

“Would you like to join me for a cup? It usually helps me relax when I come home after train wrecks of days.”

He didn’t need a reason to get closer to you, but he definitely was not going to turn you down. Especially when you’re giving him a regimen for the stress.

—

You both sat on lawn chairs, sipping on a steaming cup of tea. Levi knows only one person who knows their way around a cup of tea and that’s himself. That night, the number went up to two.

“I know it sounds bad when I don’t give you context about the people they are, but you just have to trust me on this one.” You talked Levi’s ear off about your reason for moving to a whole different state to get away from your parents.

“Whatever they did to you, it must have been terrible if you had to move so far,” Levi takes a sip of his tea. He had no bad judgement towards you. Even though he gets along with his mother and he’s never met his father, he’s human enough to understand that not all relationships with parents and their children are good.

“Yeah.” You stare straight ahead into the nightly activities going on in front of you. You didn’t mean to trauma dump on this man you haven’t known for long enough. It happened, though, and he didn’t run or tell you he was uncomfortable. He stayed and listened through and through.

“So, what was so awful about your day that you had to shut down my solo party?” You smiled. It let him know that you were just teasing when you laughed a little.

He rolled his eyes, the frustration returning to him in a short burst as he recalled his irritating day.

“The people I work with are annoying and lazy. They need constant delegations. I understand that I’m supposed to manage the team, but how will they grow if I always have to tell them what to do?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You sympathize for Levi. He seems like he really cares about his job, but also like he needs a vacation.

“I get that. Have you thought about working with another team?” You chuckle. “I swear that’s not me telling you to give up on the one you have, but at some point you have to put your own sanity first. Maybe a change in leadership would help them, and a change in teamwork would help you.”

There’s a moment of total silence, and you think what will follow is him telling you that you overstepped. The silence is broken by the sound of a quiet breath leaving his lips as a chuckle. You never noticed how little Levi smilesd until now. It’s actually a really warm sight, and his eyes crease at the corners, which makes your heart flutter.

“I don’t think that was too helpful.” You chuckle, setting your empty cup down on the floor.

“No, that was some really good advice. Thanks.”

You nod, glad to know that he wasn’t going to insult your thoughts.

The silence returns again, both of you just staring out into the abyss. It wasn’t awkward, even thought both of you had already finished your cups of tea and it was getting later. Stores were closing down for the day, their neon signs powering down to let the night grow.

“I should go home. It’s late,” Levi says, once again breaking the welcomed silence. He starts standing and offers you your cup back, empty. “I appreciate your time and the tea.”

“Ring my doorbell anytime, please. I’m happy to tell scary stories over a cup of tea.” You pick up your cup before standing.

“Well, goodnight,” Levi says, a shy smile on his face. His hands return to his pockets as he heads over to his house.

“Sleep well,” you respond, before shutting your door.

Levi laid awake for longer than he hoped he would. He could still feel that pokey feeling in his chest and it was no use looking it up like he set himself out to because he knew exactly what was it was. He mentally cursed himself for feeling this way about you so quickly. You were kind, and pretty, and you said sorry and meant it.

Levi rolled onto his side, a heavy sigh leaving him as he attempted to sleep.

—

It became a habit of yours to check the mirror thoroughly now before you left your apartment, a similar routine for Levi. He would smell the collar of his shirt before leaving. Your hello’s were almost synchronized every time you ran into each other, shy smiles decorating your faces. Your ability of not knowing when to stop talking greatly developed over time.

Sometimes your anticipation got the better of you. You would doll yourself up a little more than usual, only to be let down by his absence. It made you feel like an idiot, and you almost always went back in and dressed down.

Then, it finally happened.

Levi was coming home after another long day at work. You sat outside staring at the chaotic traffic down the street, a warm blanket on your lap.

“Hey, did something happen over there?” You ask, pointing at the line of red taillights.

“There was a car accident. Someone crashed into a fire hydrant and it’s currently a fountain that hasn’t been fixed. People are nosy so it’s taking a while to kill the traffic.” He climbs the last stair and stands next to you, his back against the windows of your apartment. You were watching the angry drivers as they tried to swerve into faster moving lanes.

“What are you doing here on a Friday night? No plans with friends or anyone?”

You shake your head. “Nope. My friends wanted to go to a club, but I don’t think I can handle the auditory overload tonight.”

He nods, acknowledging the truth in your statement. “What about dinner?”

“They didn’t mention anything about that. They usually go to whatever is open and nearby once they’re drunk off their asses at four in the morning.” Your hands ball up in your sweater’s pockets in an attempt to find warmth for your icy fingers.

“I’m asking you. Have you had dinner?” He directs his gaze towards you, meeting your eyes.

“No, I haven’t. I was just gonna heat up some leftovers.”

“Would you like to have dinner…” he hesitates for a second or two, “…with me?”

“Yes.” You think you answered too quickly, but your justification for it was not wanting to waste any more time. “I’ll be back out here in ten minutes. No more no less.” You stand and wrap your heavy blanket around you like a cape and turn your head to the right all regally as you head into the direction of your home.

Levi thought that was easy enough, but he wouldn’t get his hopes up. It wasn’t brought up as a date, so it’s just dinner.

Like you said, you were out in exactly ten minutes and you now donned something that matched Levi’s formal wear. You knew at some point you would get uncomfortable in the dress you chose, so you brought a backup outfit. A much comfier one.

“I stay true to my word, but I’m also very considerate. I won’t let you walk around looking like a penguin without looking like a tablecloth myself.”

You looked nothing like a tablecloth in Levi’s eyes. You were amazing, glowing in the midst of darkness. He had to look for the calm, stoic man inside him in order to stop himself from saying something stupid.

“I hope I didn’t make you feel obligated to dress up.”

The calm and stoic man was no help. He feared he made you self conscious when you started second guessing your outfit.

“Is it too much?” You looked for you jacket in the folded pile of clothes you held.

“No. You’re fine. I-It’s fine.” Thank the stars for the low amount of visibility, because Levi couldn’t contain the rouge spreading throughout his face. “I know a really nice place. It’s about a twenty minute drive, but it’s worth it.”

“Dealer’s choice. I’m up for anything with you.” That could easily be read differently. “I mean, anywhere is fine is… what I mean.”

What kind of malfunction was happening between both of you?

“After you,” Levi said, his hand aimed at the stairs.

You smile and lead, not having a clue where his car is.

—

When you got to the restaurant, you saw how luxurious it was. It was glowing brightly, and there were chandeliers that had both tiny and large crystals on them. You turned to Levi, a nervous look on your face. “Levi, we can’t eat dinner here.”

“Why not?” He asked.

“I can’t afford something this fancy.” It was kind of embarrassing to admit, but you figured he knew this already by the clothes you wore in contrast to his.

“You really think I’m such a trash person to make you pay?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t want to assume you would be paying for my food. That would make me a trash person.”

He shakes his head, turning his car off.

“Come on. We’re going.”

“But-“

“We’re going,” he repeats. “Plus, I think it’ll be amusing if you go in wearing that nice dress and then leave wearing those pajama pants.”

You chuckle at his insistence, finding it hard to keep the argument going when his reasoning was so strong.

—

Dinner was what you expected. Not totally awkward, but there were times when you had to look around at other people or things because you ran out of things to say. You felt especially nervous because you had to sit right across from Levi. He constantly watched you, wanting to know what you thought of the food, and how you felt about this time you were spending together.

“How was your meal?” Levi asks. You felt like his eyes were luring the answer out of you, the way they held contact with yours.

“It was so fuckin’ good.” You laugh. “I mean, it was really good. Thank you.”

“I believe you. Didn’t I tell you it was good?”

You nod, fiddling with the fork sitting on your empty plate.

“Let me know when you’re ready to go. I’m ready when you are.”

“I’m gonna go change. I’ll meet you in the car?”

He nods, standing when you do. You notice that he leaves a huge tip in the booklet holding the check before he heads out. It really makes you wonder what Levi does for a living to give him that privilege.

—

You knew you would be judged by everyone for what you were wearing. You received stares left and right, even some double takes as soon as you left the restroom. You had to hold it together, hold back the laughter when you saw a whole table simultaneously look at you.

Once you got out, Levi popped out from beside the door in time to watch your laughter explode.

“Everybody was watching you, huh?” A smirk creeps onto his face, like you both just pulled off the ultimate heist.

“Jeez, Levi! You can’t just pop out of a corner like that in the middle of the night.” Your heart pounds in your ears, your breath slowly making its way into your lungs again.

“Sorry. I wanted to make sure you got to the car safely.”

“Well, I guess I can’t be mad at you for that. Let’s go back. I’m exhausted.”

Your heart races at the thought of him staying back to make sure nobody hurt you. It’s like he cares about you. He doesn’t want you to die. That’s nice.

—

During the car ride, you introduced Levi to some of your music. He was much more into the calmer picks, deeming the random scream-o songs you have too aggressive. You told him that one day you want to go to a rave, and he said you were going to get trampled.

Once you got home, you both climbed the stairs that led you to your apartments. Levi didn’t want to end the night without giving you something to think about, but he wasn’t ready to admit that he liked you. A lot.

“Levi, Levi,” your smile grows. “Do you always take random girls out for dinner like that?”

“No,” he answered, simply.

“Okay, what I meant to ask is, do you always take random girls out for dinner at super high-end restaurants? Feel free to answer honestly,” you chuckle.

Again, “no.”

“Then what? Did you just see that I was starving and pitied me enough to buy me something to eat?” You’re pulling questions out of your ass to sway your mind from the idea you’re getting based on his responses.

“I don’t pity you, and no.”

“Then why did you buy me dinner?”

He can feel the blood pumping in his veins. His hands and feet feel staticky, like they’re numb.

“Did you not want me to buy you dinner?”

“You can’t answer a question with a question.” Your arms cross, impatience surfacing your mind.

“I just did, didn’t I?”

He was being annoying, in a rather attractive way. Levi could tell you just wanted an answer, but he didn’t want to tell you. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stand the thought of there always being tension between you and him.

“I think you’re nice.”

It was cute, the way he was unable to look at your after what he said. It was such a simple sentence. Four words that had you feeling fuzzy.

“You think i’m nice?” You can’t say it seriously, an uncontrollable smile playing on your lips.

He can only nod, scared that he’ll elaborate on how nice you are if he says a word.

“Well, I think you’re weird and annoying.”

This had him wondering what he did wrong. What made him weird? He knows that not answering your question must have been annoying, but really, you had him stunned with that one.

“You’re also very nice, though. I’ve enjoyed our little encounters and your company tonight.”

Now that, that made him feel like he was bathing in the sun. Would he have preferred you not call him weird and annoying? No. It was so like you to say something like that.

He finds himself getting drawn in by you. You’ve bewitched him. It’s the only explanation for why he’s getting closer.

“I think you’re nice.” He takes another step.

“You said that. You must really believe it,” you reply, getting more nervous by the second.

“I do.” He takes one of your hands in his. You see him look down at it, a sly grin on his face.

“What?” You ask when he continues examining your hand.

“Your hand is so sweaty.”

You pull it back a little, not expecting him to hold it firmly.

“Why are you still holding it?”

“It only seems right that I hold your hand before anything else. Even if it’s sweaty. Am I making you nervous?”

You felt like screaming through the silence. Your heart was racing like it was going to beat out of your chest and your hands were shaking in his hold.

“I had a good time, too. I wouldn’t mind being your backup plan again, and taking you out for dinner is something I would like to do again in the future.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

The words sounded so wrong outside of your thoughts. You thought there would be a drumroll for them. Maybe you telling him that you think he’s beautiful, or even roughly telling him he’s attractive. But, no. You dove right in because you wanted to see what he would do with this information.

“You’re pretty straight forward, huh?”

“I’ve been waiting. Days, weeks, months, years.” You laugh, realizing how ridiculous you sound.

“We’ve only known each other a little over two months. How could you have waited years?”

“Did you not hear what I said? I want you to kiss me.” You look him in the eyes, trying to read the wonderful look on his face. “Kiss me or say goodnight.” It was an ultimatum for the end of the night.

“I don’t want to say goodnight,” he says, his voice quieter.

That gave him one other option, and he immediately went for it. It was a kiss that brought the stars in the sky down to your eyes. His hands rested on your waist, while yours went up to cup his face. You would be lying if you said you were going to sleep afterwards, because this is what you’ve been dreaming of. It’s happening, and you don’t need to dream about it anymore.

“Goodnight, Levi,” you mutter, a hazy smile on your face. You put your hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat to see if this kiss invoked the same feelings for him as it did for you.

“Not yet, please.” He pulled you in for another kiss, this one being longer. He had you running out of breath every time he brought you close. You loved seeing that sparkle in his eyes every time you pulled away.

“Goodnight, Levi,” you repeated, this time escaping his hold.

“Fine, goodnight.”

You waved as you headed into your apartment, Levi walking the couple feet it took to get to his apartment afterwards.

That night he went to sleep with you on his mind until his eyes shut for good.

Levi was starting to get it. He saw you and finally understood why things are so love-filled in relationships. Why you go the extra mile to please your partner, even if it’s something small like buying them chocolates. He finally got to experience the satisfying feeling that came with kissing you goodnight. It was a rush of emotions that laid dormant in him for a while, and the rediscovery of them was amazing, especially with you.

149 notes · View notes

measuredingold · 7 months

Text

to be in love and to be loved

chapter three: unexpected

authors note: finally able to post this chapter! it was a struggle for me to finish and this isn't even all that i've written, i've wrote so much that what i had originally planned for chapter three is going to be chapter four. however, even in the struggle, i'm excited for what i have planned for this series <3 as always please enjoy and feedback is appreciated! this is also entirely in naomi's pov :)

pairing: noah sebastian x ofc x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist / cross-posted on ao3

word count: 8.4k (another doozy)

cw: ~kissing~, lots of angst (your chest might hurt), sexual content (phone sex lol), feelings realization, 18+ (minors do not interact.)

Living in a van for a week was not all it was cracked up to be. This week included being crammed in a tiny space for days on end, getting to know her friends in more personal ways than she ever dreamed of, learning how to sleep sitting straight up and being comfortable, and eating more fast food than she ever had in life. Though, as her mind drifts off to her flight later this evening, she can't help but already miss it.

Yeah, it sounds fucking awful, especially being the only girl in the crew, but there was something about it that Mimi loved. She got to spend a whole week with some of her favorite people in the entire world, and the thought of going back home makes her sick. She’s never liked goodbyes. They've always left her feeling sad, almost empty. Depending on who it is she often feels like something is missing when leaving them, or when they leave her.

It was hard when Noah and Nicholas moved to Los Angeles. She was happy that they were chasing their dreams and doing what they wanted, but she couldn't deny the sadness that crept into her every time Noah brought up their move. The day they left was hard, but the first night was even harder. She truly felt like there were pieces of her missing.

It’s starting to feel a lot like that right now.

She feels Noah squeeze her hand and looks up at him, but the boy is looking out the window, lips turned down into a frown. She sighs and leans her head against his shoulder. This morning had been... quiet. They all knew what was coming but no one dared to say anything. Even Folio was quieter than normal, giving her a sad smile when she greeted him that morning.

Noah has barely said a word to anyone today, and he hasn’t left her side for one second. He’s not usually this clingy, brief touches here and there at most, but ever since last night he’s been glued to her. He even helped her at the merch table with Nicholas, and when they weren’t busy, he had his hands on her. In retrospect it was nice, but she knew deep down the clinginess is coming from a place of sadness.

Before she knows it, Jolly’s pulling into the airport parking garage. She told them they didn’t have to park and follow her inside, just dropping her off at the door was fine, but they all insisted. It’s quiet when they make their way inside, Nicholas insisting that he carries her things while Noah’s hand clutches her own.

They waited until the last moment to drop her off, per Naomi’s request, because she wanted to spend every last moment with them. She had about an hour before her planed started boarding, and by time she got through TSA, she’d probably only have enough time to get a quick snack and get ready for boarding.

Jolly and Nick said their goodbyes first, pulling Naomi into their arms. She tries not to cry, swallowing down her tears when she lets them know she’ll miss them. They were good friends before her arrival, but after spending an entire week with them, she knows their friendship has strengthened. Jolly even kisses her forehead before he lets her go, giving her a gentle smile before pushing her towards Nicholas who was next.

She turns to meet Nicholas' gaze and she thought she could hold it in like she did with Jolly and Nick, but the second his lips turn into a sad smile she feels herself breaking.

“Come here.”

She rushes into his arms, slipping hers around his waist as she pressed herself against him. She doesn’t stop the tears and instead lets them flow as she buries her face against his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, just tucks his face against the crook of her neck and squeezes her to him.

“I’m gonna miss you.” She manages to get out, voice muffled by Nicholas’ jacket. He laughs, but it falls short.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Mimi.”

She pulls away from him to finally get a good look at his face, eyes scanning his features. This time feels different, good or bad she’s not sure, but she’s trying to savor every second she has left with her best friend.

Nicholas leans forward and brushes his lips against her forehead before whispering, “No more tears. We’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

Naomi sniffles before giving him a tiny nod and he smiles, but she doesn’t miss the way his eyes gloss over in his own tears. He pulls her back against him to give her one last hug.

“Take care of him.” She whispers, just low enough for Nicholas to hear. He stills in her hold. “You always do anyways, but I feel like I just needed to say it.”

“I will. I promise.” He whispers, voice sounding strained, and it almost sends her over the edge.

They hold each other for a few more moments before she finally pulls away, dreading to turn around to Noah. She already knows he’s trying to hold it together for her, but with how he’s acted the last 24 hours, she can already guess how hard that’s becoming. Nicholas gives her one last smile before she turns to Noah, her heart immediately crumbling beneath her chest.

He looks… well, fucking miserable. Eyes rimmed red and glossy, but no tears have yet to fall. He’s trying so fucking hard, she knows, and Naomi doesn’t stop herself from rushing towards him. He lets out a whine the second her arms around wrapped around his waist, a pitiful sound, and she feels fresh new tears slip from her eyes.

Leaving Noah was always hard, even when they were just friends, but now it was different. They were together. After her conversation with Nicholas in the van, she went to Noah the next morning and they both finally decided what this was. Noah was hers and she was his and thinking about going back to Virginia and her tiny little apartment she once called home without him has her feeling like her chest is about to rip into a million fucking pieces.

“Can I just come with you?” She hears Noah say from above her, voice muffled from the way his face is buried in her hair. She laughs, sad and wet, and presses herself closer to him.

“They’d kick my ass if I stole their lead singer.” She eventually gets out, swallowing down the sob that wants to escape. She pulls back to look up at Noah and catches the moment a single tear slips from his eyes. She’s quick to reach up and wipe it away, hands cupping his face. “Only a few more weeks and then we’ll figure it out. Okay? I’ll come to you, you can come to me, whatever you want.”

Noah nods and he sucks in a shaky breath, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

She smiles up at him and leans up, lips brushing against his briefly. “I love you.”

An announcement over the airport speakers has them breaking from their moment, and Naomi pulls back to check her phone, seeing she had about 45 minutes until boarding starts.

“Text me when you get home.” Noah mumbles sadly, pulling her back against his chest. “Right when you land, right when you get to your car, right when you walk into your apartment…”

She laughs, a real one, and lets herself relax in his hold for a few more moments.

“Okay, dad.”

Noah rolls his eyes but laughs along with her anyways, and with one last kiss, she’s making her way towards the security line. They stay until she’s made it to the front, and she sends them a sad wave. She gets through TSA a lot quicker than she expected, which was a plus, and had enough time to get a few snacks and a drink to keep her satisfied on the plane.

The plane ride home wasn’t bad at all. She ended up eating her snacks and falling asleep halfway through, which was nice, because she had barely gotten any sleep the night before, but it was barely enough to satisfy her. She wakes up groggy and walks through the airport almost like a zombie, half asleep trying to find which way she needs to go. She forgets to text Noah when she lands, when she gets to her car, but doesn’t forget when she steps into her apartment. She fishes her phone out from her bag, thumbs dancing across the screen.

i’m home and am missing you already. facetime later? :(

Her thumb hovered over the screen, eyes staring down at her opened messages. Nicholas' name stares at her and without thinking she opens it, thumbs working over the screen.

wanted to let you know that i'm home❤️

Mimi isn't sure why she sent it and why she felt the need to even let him know because Noah would end up telling him, but her fingers move faster than her mind. She locks her phone and takes a deep breath, her eyes scanning over her apartment. Before this trip it had felt like home, and she made sure of it with all the clutter she's added to make it really feel like hers. Now, a deep ache is settling itself into her chest, these four walls feeling foreign to her.

She's starting to think that maybe home isn't a place, but a person.

Or maybe… people.

…

Life went on how it had before, Naomi waking herself up every day to head off to work, maybe hang out with a few friends after she got off, and then settle herself onto her couch after a long day with one of her shows. Most nights she'd FaceTime with Noah, and sometimes with Nicholas when he would answer, and it was nice, but the ache in her chest grew each time they said goodbye.

Tonight was no different, her phone propped up in her hand as she curled up on the couch, Noah's name flashing across the screen. She smiled to herself before answering, waiting for the connection to kick in so she could see his face. It felt like she hadn't seen him in months, even though she had spoken to him the night before while getting ready for bed.

"There she is."

Noah's voice instantly brings a smile to her face.

"Hi baby," She hums happily, shifting into a more comfortable position. "What's up?"

Naomi caught his eye through the screen, and he smiled, wide and bright, and leaned back against the couch he was sitting on, holding his phone up.

"Just chillin'." Noah says with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "We just finished setting up for tonight and now everyone's just... doing their own thing, I guess."

"Are you by yourself?" She can't help but frown.

"Nicky was here a second ago, but I have no idea where he went."

Just the mention of Nicholas has her chest feeling heavy, the thought of the boy plaguing her mind. It's not like she hasn't spoken to him since she's been home, actually FaceTimed him the other night when she couldn't sleep, and he just so happened to be awake. But it wasn't... like it normally was. Their conversations were short, Nicholas not saying much while Naomi told him about her day. Even his texts seem to be shorter. It feels almost as if he's pulling away from her, for what reason she's not sure. She thought whatever that was wrong with him the week she joined them on tour was over with, but it only seemed to get worse once she left.

"What's that face for?"

Noah's voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she blinks at the screen, head tilting.

"What?"

"Your face." Noah squints at her through the screen, his own lips dipping into a frown. "You're pouting, and your foreheads doing that thing where you get lines when you think too hard."

"No, it's not." Naomi says, growing immensely defensive. She tries to relax her face, but Nicholas crosses her mind once again, and her frown returns.

"You're doing it again." Noah's tone softens. "What's up?"

“Is Nicky okay?” She blurts out after another moment of silence, worrying her bottom lip.

Noah pauses.

“What do you mean?”

Naomi shrugs, looking anywhere but the screen. “I don’t know, just.” Another pause. “He’s been a little weird with me recently.”

“Weird?”

She sighs. “I don’t know. We just don’t talk as often and when we do it’s… something’s off and I don't like it.”

Noah pauses again and she watches him chew on his bottom lip, brows furrowing.

"Well, now that you mention it," Noah begins, shoulders deflating. "He has been acting a little weird. He..." His eyes shift to the side in thought. "It kinda seems like he's in his head a lot more recently? Like he's just... not here."

Naomi frowns once again. "Present but not present?"

Noah snaps his fingers, head nodding as his eyes focus back on his phone screen.

"Yes! Sometimes when I talk to him it's like he's not even there, but he's nodding along to whatever I say." It's Noah's turn to frown, and Naomi hates the way her heart drops, settling into her stomach with a heavy feeling. "You know, I didn't even realize it until you brought it up..."

His voice trails off, the sadness seeping through, and Naomi knows exactly what he's thinking.

"Don't feel bad." She's quick to add, head already shaking. "I didn't notice until a few days ago."

"But I do feel bad." Noah murmured. "He's my best friend, I'm supposed to know when he's going through something."

"Only if he tells you." Naomi says gently, the protective feeling she always gets when it came to Noah filling her veins. She squirms around on the couch to get comfortable again, fingers gripping her phone. "Nicky's a big boy, I'm sure he'll tell us what's wrong soon."

"I guess..." His voice trails off again, unconvinced, and Naomi chews on her bottom lip again.

She goes to say something else, not really sure what it could be, before Noah's head is snapping to the right, and she hears the door opening and muffled voices in the background - Jolly and Folio. No Nicholas. Her heart drops again, and she tries to swallow the lump in her throat that's been forming this entire phone call.

"You hungry?" She hears Folio before she sees him. "Me and Jolly found a Denny's. Like a five-minute walk from here."

Noah's once sad demeanor changes in an instant at the mention of Denny's and she can't help but laugh, the worry slowly releasing itself from her body. She'll just tuck it in the back of her mind for now, bring it up again another time. Maybe she could even talk to Nicholas sometime this week and ask him what the fuck was up and finally put an end to whatever this was.

She just wanted her best friend back.

"Oh, fuck yes." Noah exhales happily before his gaze moves back to Mimi. "Do you know how long it's been since we had Denny's?"

"I'm guessing a while?"

"Too damn long." Folio's face finally comes into view, now sitting beside Noah on the couch. "Hey, Mimi. Is it okay if we steal your boy for dinner?"

"Hi, Nick. Of course, it's okay. I need to get up and eat, anyways."

"If you're awake, can I call you tonight?" Noah questions, staring at her with soft brown doe eyes. Mimi smiles.

"Sure. I'll turn on an alarm just in case I do fall asleep."

"Okay, cool. I'll text you." Noah smiles sweetly at the phone and her heart clenches beneath her chest, warmth spreading throughout her body. "Love you."

"Love you too."

They exchange their goodbyes and Naomi lays against the couch for a moment, her phone laying on her chest. Her mind goes back to Nicholas and she wonders what he's doing. She reaches for her phone again and sorts through her messages, scrolling to find Nicholas' name. She frowns at the last conversation between the two of them, from a few days ago, and the one word replies from Nicholas staring back at her.

She sighs, thumbs sliding over the screen.

miss you and hope you're alright. talk soon?

Not even thirty seconds later, the read receipt on her message appears and the texting bubble pops up. Her heart races as she waits, but a minute passes, and then another, and the bubble soon disappears, and her heart sinks.

…

A few days after her conversation with Noah, Naomi decided to call Nicholas. She waited a few days because they had back-to-back shows and didn't want to be annoying. It was just bothering her. What had she done? They were fine one day and then somehow the next they weren't.

She's tried not to think too hard about it, but with how sad Noah had seemed upon his realization, she couldn't help it. Naomi has known Nicholas for over three years now. She knew him like the back of her goddamn hand, and she knew something was wrong. There's a reason why he was so distant, why he was pulling away. Not only from her but from Noah.

The thought makes her sick, stomach twisting in a way that it's almost painful, and she has to swallow down whatever lump has decided to form in her throat. Naomi missed Nicholas - her Nicholas. The one she could talk to about whatever, the one she could call whenever, and he'd pick up. The one that didn't hide things from her.

Naomi chewed on her thumb as she waited for her call to go through, hearing it ring three times before Nicholas picked up.

"Mimi?"

"Hi Nicky." She hummed softly. "Just checking in. Haven't heard from you in a few days."

"Oh, sorry. You know how it gets." He responds, almost sounding distracted. She frowns. "Everything's good, though. I'm sure Noah's told you."

"Well, yeah. He's told me." She grumbles. "But it would've been nice to hear from you every once in a while."

He pauses. "We literally talked like... four days ago."

"And it was a hi and bye at best." Naomi can't stop the sigh that slips from her. "We've barely spoken since I left. That's not like us, Nicky."

"I've been busy."

"Right. Yet Noah has enough time to talk to me… Hell, I’ve even heard from Jolly more than you.” She shifts in her seat, eyes narrowing at the wall ahead of her. “If there was something wrong, you’d tell me, right?”

“Of course.” His response comes quick, almost too quick, and Naomi nods to herself.

“Then why haven’t you told me there’s something obviously wrong?”

Nicholas is silent on the other end.

"Exactly.” Mimi spits out, annoyance already eating at her. "You've barely spoken to me. It's like I've done something to you and now you're avoiding me – you literally ignored my text the other day."

She doesn't hold back voicing her thoughts. She's never had to with Nicholas, he always being able to be someone she could always talk freely to, and even though they're in a weird spot she won't stop now. Another round of silence fills her ears, so quiet that all she can hear is Nicholas breathing on the other end.

"Just..." Naomi sighs, bringing her free hand up to rub at her forehead. "If I did something to upset you then tell me, Nicky. I can't read your fucking mind. Especially when you're a hundred miles away."

"I'm not asking you to." His voice is sharp, and she can't help but flinch, even though she was just as sharp with him moments before. "I'm fine. Nothing happened. Tour is just a lot right now, promise."

"Remember when you said you could tell when I was lying?” He doesn’t respond. “Well, guess what? I can tell when you are too, Ruffilo."

"I'm not lying-"

"Nicholas." She cuts him off, an annoyed groan leaving her. "Can you please cut the bullshit? It's just the two of us. You can be honest and tell me what's got you so pissy."

"I'd rather not talk about it because it doesn't fucking matter, Naomi." Nicholas stops himself from continuing and he sighs. Mimi can already picture him running a frustrated hand through his hair and the image alone has something in her turning. "I know you didn’t call me just to argue so drop it, okay?”

"No." She holds her ground, grinding her teeth together. "You're going to tell me what's wrong so we can fix this, alright?"

"Why are you so dead set on this?"

"Because you're my best friend!" She says exasperatedly, throwing her head back against the couch. "If there's something wrong, and something I may have caused, I would really like to fix it."

"Well, you can't." He laughs, and her stomach drops at how tired he sounds. Her lips dip into a frown. "I just need to suck it up and get over it."

It's Naomi's turn to be silent, chewing on her bottom lip as she racked her brain. Her mind goes back to the week she had spent on tour with the band and remembers the day Nicholas' whole demeanor changed one day, but she can't really pinpoint the exact reason why. He was fine one second and then not the next.

What could have changed?

"I can literally hear your brain turning," Nicholas says softly. "I promise I'm fine, well, I'll be fine. I just need some time to sulk, think it over, and then I'll be good as new."

"I just wish I knew what was wrong so I could help." She mumbles, the sadness trickling through her voice. "I hate seeing you like this. I just want to take all that sadness away for you, Nicky."

He swallows. "I wish you could, too."

For some reason she feels nauseous. She hates that she can't help him when he needs someone, and she has to sit on the sidelines and watch while he suffers. Why can’t he just let her help?

"Can you at least let Noah know what’s going on? He's worried too."

"I know." A pause. "I'll talk to him."

"Thank you." She hums softly, and her gaze flicks towards the small clock she had on the wall. "I should probably go. It's late. You have a show tomorrow."

"That I do." He sounds tired and Mimi's chest twists with sadness.

"I'm sorry for being so upset." She quickly gets out before he could hang up. "I just... I care about you a lot."

"I know." Nicholas hums. "I care about you a lot, too. And Noah."

"We know."

Another moment of silence.

"Call me tomorrow?" Nicholas asks softly, hopeful. Naomi nods.

"Of course, as long as you answer.” She teases.

"Oh, fuck off.” There’s no malice behind his voice, and she can almost hear the smile in it. “Goodnight Mimi.”

"Goodnight Nicky."

That night as she laid in bed, trying to sleep, she did her best to ignore the heaviness in her heart as her mind drifted back to Nicholas.

...

The tension from her shoulders fell the second she stepped inside her apartment. A pleased noise escapes her, a sigh most likely, as she slipped her shoes off and left them by the door, padding her way through the apartment. It had been a long day filled with work at the new office, and an even longer night when her coworkers turned friends convinced her to go out with them. One drink turned into two, two drinks turned into three, and three drinks turned into her having to have someone drive her home.

Naomi didn't feel as drunk anymore, maybe a step above tipsy, and all she really wanted right now was to wash this makeup off and slip into something comfier. She'd been daydreaming about the oversized shirt in her closet on the ride home, almost being able to feel the soft fabric wrap itself around her body. She couldn't remember whose it was - maybe one she had bought, maybe one she stole from Noah, or maybe one she stole from Nicholas. Who knows, because she sure as hell doesn’t.

Her body falls into a routine the second she steps into her bathroom, comfy clothes on, and she pulls her curls up into a loose bun, diving straight into her skincare. She couldn't be bothered to do the whole step-by-step routine she liked to do, just a double cleanse to rinse the makeup and dirt from her face and then some moisturizer.

Her phone ringing in her room has her pausing mid-cleanse, heart picking up from the surprise.

"It's two in the fucking morning..." She grumbles to herself, rushing into her room to retrieve her phone.

Her heart rate slows down at the sight of Noah's name flashing across her screen, and she instantly relaxes. She forgot he had promised to call her after their show that night, but it might be later than usual. One of the headlining bands promised to take some of them out and treat them to some drinks.

for being so fucking awesome🤘🏻, Noah had texted her earlier.

She carefully picks the phone up and answers, immediately switching it to speaker phone.

"Hello?"

"Baby."

Noah's voice fills her bathroom and the tone in which he used has a shiver running up her spine. She shakes it off, leaving it to the alcohol still coursing through her veins, and lays her phone down on the counter to finally wash off the cleanser still on her face.

"Hi, my love." She hums.

"What're you doing? You sound far away." There's a whine to his voice and she can't help but chuckle, smiling at herself through the mirror.

"You're on speaker phone, I'm taking my makeup off."

"Did you just get home?"

"Mhm." She bends over the sink, splashing water over her face before reaching for a washcloth, gently wiping her makeup off. "What're you doing? Did you guys end up going out?"

"Yeah." Noah hums in response. "I went out for a little bit, they're all still at the bar. I came back like five minutes ago."

She does another cleanse of her skin, just to make sure everything was completely off before dabbing a towel over her face.

"Why'd you leave so early?"

"Missed you," Noah mumbled into the receiver, and she can hear the pout in his voice. She smiles to herself. "Wanted to hear your voice."

"Missed you too, sweetheart. How many more weeks of tour left?" She asks as if she didn't already know, counting down the damn days as they pass.

"Three weeks." He sounds relieved. "It's been incredible, but I miss my fucking bed. And you. I really fucking miss you."

Naomi laughs, a bit too loud for two in the morning, but she doesn't care. Hopefully her neighbors don't mind too much.

"These three weeks will fly by so quick, babe. I promise."

Noah hums something in response but she doesn't quite catch it, only hearing the whine in his voice and the slight slur to his words.

"What was that? I can’t hear you and your drunk rambling,” She teases with a laugh.

" ‘m not drunk. A little buzzed," She hears shifting on the other end and a shaky breath leaving Noah before he continues, "and maybe a little tired, but nothing too crazy. Are you drunk?"

"No. Just a little buzzed and tired like you."

"Can we switch to FaceTime? I wanna see you." There's a slight lilt to Noah's voice, a little more breathy than normal, and Naomi's skin prickles at the sound.

"Of course, baby. Give me a second." She mumbles, quickly applying some moisturizer to her skin.

She picks her phone up and presses the FaceTime option, watching her screen load. She props her phone up against the mirror in front of her and reaches for her toothbrush when she hears Noah let out a pleased sigh.

"Mimi."

That breathy tone he used again has her pausing, fingers gripping around her brush as her eyes flickered back towards her phone.

“Oh.”

The look in Noah’s eyes has Mimi tensing, shoulders squaring as she stared at her phone screen. She knows that look – she’s seen it before, remembers it clearly. The way Noah stared down at her with his wide brown eyes, bottom lip pulled in between his teeth as he tried to hold in his noises in some empty venue hallway while her mouth moved along his cock, heavy and wet on her tongue. Her thighs press together at the memory.

"How long until they come back?" Is the first thing she asks, eyes narrowing at Noah through the screen. He pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"They won't be back for a few more hours."

There's shifting on the other side of the screen, and she sees Noah's face scrunch up, eyes squeeze shut for a moment. His mouth parts, a shaky breath leaving him. Her thighs pressed together again and heat pools in her stomach at the realization of what he's doing. The only thing she could see on the screen was his face, but she knew that if it was angled just a bit lower... Naomi has to take a deep breath to calm herself.

"What do you need from me, baby?" She keeps her voice soft, light, and she lays her toothbrush down on the counter. Noah makes a noise, almost like something got caught in his throat.

"Talk to me." He breathes out, a slight whine in his voice. "Tell me what to do, I don't know. I just like hearing your voice."

She feels her cheeks flush at the compliment, and also at the fact that in intimate moments like this all Noah wants is to hear her. She smiles to herself before reaching for her phone and quickly making her way back to her bedroom, crawling onto her bed.

"What's got you so worked up, pretty boy?" She questions while getting comfortable, pulling her blankets over her body. She's thankful she likes to keep her room cool, because she knows her body will surely be heating up soon.

He keens at her words. "Couldn't stop thinking about you, or that picture you sent me the other day."

She flushes at the memory of the… risqué picture she had sent him earlier that week. She was adorned in one of his shirts he had gave her before she left the tour, a band shirt she had been stealing from him for years, and a pair a red lace underwear. The shirt was bunched up, barely covering her breasts, and really the only thing you could see were the lace – which was a favorite of Noah’s.

Nothing too crazy, but it was just enough to drive Noah mad and that’s why she sent it.

“Yeah?” She breathes out, the heat in her tummy already swirling. “I knew you’d like it.”

Noah whines at that, and she sees the muscles in his arms tense as he moves again, and her mouth waters just at the thought his hand – long, tattooed fingers – wrapped around his aching cock. She squirms, wishing nothing more for it to be her hand, or even her mouth.

“I fucking loved it.”

“Can I see what you’re doing, baby?” She questions, keeping her voice as level as she could.

Noah nods as another whine slipped from his parted lips and she watched as he shifted on the bed, bringing his phone lower. She couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of his cock – red, swollen tip on full display. His chest rose and fell as he gave the base a firm squeeze. She could only see the bottom half of his face but watched as he licked at his lips before biting down on his bottom lip roughly. He’s already almost to the edge and trying to hold himself together, just for her. Her thighs press together again. They’re still learning each other and figuring out what works, but she was quick to find out that Noah loved when she was direct with him, telling him what to do. He’d listen, no questions asked. Noah was someone that typically liked to be in control of almost every aspect of his life, not usually leaving it in the hands of someone else, and the fact he trusted her enough to do this made warmth spread throughout her chest.

“Oh, you poor thing… It looks like you don’t even need my help at all, baby.” She teases, lips tugging into a smirk. “How long have you been like this?”

“Since this morning.” He gasps out, squeezing his cock with every stroke. “I just – oh, fuck. I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. I fucking,” Noah whimpers, hips rolling into his fist. ��I fucking can’t wait to touch you again.”

Naomi’s eyes flutter shut at his words, biting down on her bottom lip to try and keep her own noises at bay. She’s not even touching herself and yet his words have her going crazy already, warmth pooling into the pit of her stomach, and she knows there’s a wet patch in her underwear now. She squirms.

“God, I can’t wait.” She breathes out, eyes opening to stare at Noah. “Is that what you want? To touch me?”

“Yes.” He whimpers. “So bad.”

“You can soon enough, baby, just not right now.”

He whines at her words, and he tilts his phone up to where his full face is shown, and she tries her hardest to not gasp at the fucked-out expression on his face. He opens his mouth to speak, probably to say something about touching her, she just knows it, but she shushes him before he could even utter a word. His mouth clamps shut immediately.

“Soon.”

He nods, another whine ripping from deep in his chest and she watches his glossed over eyes focus on her, brows furrowing.

"Is... is that Nicky's shirt?" He pants out, staring at the screen with blown out eyes. Naomi freezes before quickly glancing down at her shirt and then back at the screen.

"Yeah. I think so."

Something inside of her stirs, the admission raising some kind of panic in her, but Noah doesn't look angry. No, he looks far from angry. The flush in his cheeks deepens and her shoulders relax, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. He liked it – a lot.

"...You look really good in it."

His hand speeds up, working himself closer to the edge and the small, barely there gasping moans he’s letting out has Naomi’s thighs pressing together, cunt clenching around nothing. She wanted nothing more than to slide her hands down her sleep shorts, press against her aching clit and rub one out, but she stayed still. Her focus was solely on Noah and Noah alone, she’ll help herself out later.

“Thank you.” She hums out, her own cheeks slightly flushed. “You close, sweetheart?”

He nods before his head lolls to the side, another moan ripping out from him, from deep within his chest. She watches as his hips roll and stutter in his hand, chest rising and falling. It doesn’t take long until he’s choking out her name, followed by a high-pitched moan, spilling all over his hand and stomach. Naomi bites her lip to once again keep her own noises down, fingers twitching because she could easily slip two fingers into herself now with how wet she was, but she doesn’t. Instead, she waits for Noah to come down, the rise and fall of his chest slowing down. He blinks when he brings the phone back up to his face, eyes glossed over and her chest twists because she’d do anything to be there right now, but the best she could do is give him a gentle smile.

“Hi, baby.” The corners of his lips quirk up and her smile only grows. “You did so good, my love.”

Noah makes a noise, almost like a whine, and his eyes flutter shut. “Yeah?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” She rolls onto her back now, ignoring the wetness in her sleep shorts. “You’ll need to get up and clean yourself up, okay?”

Noah groans in response and it takes her a few more minutes of convincing him before he’s pushing himself up and off the bed, going to the bathroom to clean himself off. He takes the phone with him and she knows it’s only to know she’s still there while he’s getting ready for bed, because he doesn’t even say a word. He usually didn’t after he’s came down, brain fuzzy and tired, and the ache in Naomi’s chest on tightens even more.

She misses him so, so much.

Her own eyes are fluttering by the time he makes it back it back to bed, snuggling deep into his pillows. She does the same, curling her blanket close to her as she brought her phone closer to her face, seeing Noah’s eyes barely open.

“You should sleep.” She whispers, a yawn following her words.

“Will you stay on here with me?” He asks quietly, peaking one eye open at the phone before letting it slip shut again. “Until I fall asleep.”

“Baby, I’m not that far behind you. I’m one second away from falling asleep with this damn phone in my hand.”

Huffing out a sleepy laugh, he opens both eyes finally, “That’s fine. Just stay on here. It’ll be like I fell asleep next to you.”

She doesn’t stop the slight dip of her lips at his words, heart dropping to her stomach. Sure, the illusion is there, but Noah isn’t. Absentmindedly she stretches her hand out, fingers running over empty sheets.

“I miss you.”

Noah notices the frown, his own lips pursing into a pout. “I miss you, too. I’ll be home soon.”

“I know,” She mumbles, trying to swallow down the lump that’s found its way in her throat. “Just… miss you a lot.”

Noah doesn’t say anything, just gives her another pout before his eyes fall shut again. Silence washes over them and that stupid lump is still lodged somewhere deep in her throat, but she tries to will it away, settling her phone against the pillow beside her and shutting her eyes.

The last thing she remembers before falling asleep is Noah’s gentle voice whispering, “I love you.”

…

"What the fuck are you guys doing?"

Naomi can't help but laugh as both Noah and Nicholas give her a goofy grin from the other side of the screen. She can see Jolly in the back who just rolls his eyes, but his lips are curled so she knows he's not that annoyed by their antics.

"We missed you." Noah says, laying his cheek against his arm. He's stretched out on his shared bed with Nicholas, laying on his front, and resting his phone on the pillows.

They're in some bum-fuck state in the middle of nowhere, Naomi can't be bothered to really remember where. They had a day off tomorrow, she remembers from a text Noah sent her earlier that morning, and she suspects they went out after the show and had only a few drinks with the other bands. At least, that's what Nicholas told her about an hour ago. She suspects Jolly may have had only a few, but with the Folio is knocked the fuck out on the other bed, and the dopey grins on both Nicholas and Noah's faces, she's gonna say they had more than a few.

"Yeah?" She hums, snuggling into her blanket. Nicholas nods, climbing his way on top of Noah.

The younger boy doesn't even budge as Nicholas practically clings to his back, his chin resting on Noah's shoulder.

"Of course." Nicholas' bottom lip juts out. "We always miss you."

She can't help but flush at that, her skin heating up at Nicholas' words. We always miss you. Such a simple statement has her tummy doing flips, and it should be concerning due to the fact it wasn't her boyfriend who said that. It was her best friend, and she should unpack that, but she won't. At least not now.

"Cute." She mumbles, bringing her blanket up to hide her burning cheeks. "I always miss you guys, too. It's lonely without y'all here."

"One more week!" Noah exclaims and it's followed by a yelp, a pillow flying at him from the side of the screen.

"Shut the fuck up." She doesn't miss the groggy and very grumpy tone of Folio, and she covers her mouth to stifle her laughter when both Noah and Nicholas look at the screen with wide eyes.

"Sorry," Noah sheepishly says, grunting when he tries to scoot closer to the phone but Nicholas on top of him makes it hard, so he opts for grabbing it instead and whispering, "One more week. I can't wait to see you."

Even in his drunken state she can hear the sincerity in his tone, and her heart swells beneath her chest. One more week and she'll be with her boy again. She's been antsy for the last few days, knowing that soon enough Noah will be with her. He's staying for a week before he has to fly back out to Los Angeles, their upcoming debut album drop date slowly approaching. She hasn't told him yet, but there might be a plane ticket that's sitting in her mailbox that's departing from RIC to LAX during the second week of August.

She'll sit on that for a few more weeks before surprising him with it.

"I can't wait to see you too, baby." Her gaze softens at the smile Noah gives her and her eyes move from him to Nicholas. "And you, too. You're staying a few weeks, right?"

Nicholas nods, shifting a bit on top of Noah which causes the boy under him to groan. "Mhm. A few old clients hit me up, so I'm gonna be home for a while."

Home. Just the words falling from his lips has her grinning from ear to ear, chest fluttering with some sort of feeling that she can't explain, and her tummy doing those stupid flips again. Seriously, she should unpack whatever she keeps feeling whenever Nicholas looks at her, whenever he mentions coming home because she knows that it means he's coming back to her. She just missed him a lot, right? She just missed the comfort of not having both of her boys with her, always having one of them at her side. That's all this was. She had just grown used to the feeling of her best friend always being a call away, and since this is his first time back home in months, she's just excited. Right? That's all this is.

The growing pit in her stomach says otherwise, but she can't even dwell on the thought before she's speaking again.

"Think you got time to give me another tattoo? I've been itching for another one."

The words fall from her lips without much of a second thought and the look Nicholas gives her through the screen has her breath hitching. She had gotten a few other tattoos after the one Nicholas gave her, but the peonies on her thigh was the only one he did himself. Memories of that night in the shop fill her mind, and she knows Nicholas is thinking about it too, and she squirms against her bed.

"Of course," He clears his throat, as if he was shaking himself out of whatever trance he was just in before giving her a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes. "I always have time for you."

She blushes.

"We should all get matching tattoos." Noah says suddenly, snapping both her and Nicholas out of whatever trance they were in. "When we get home."

"You wanna get matching tattoos?" She questions and Noah nods.

"Well, yeah." Noah shrugs - or well, tries to, because Nicholas is still draped over his back - and gives her a smile. "We all got matching band tattoos a few weeks ago, so it makes sense that we would get one, too."

Naomi feels warm all over, Noah's words making something clench beneath her chest. It shouldn't be too surprising, her and Noah are dating, and all three of them have been friends for so long. It was always the three of them, their tiny trio.

"I'd like to get something to remember the two most important people in my life." Noah continues after a few beats of silence.

Nicholas hums. "I think we should. We could get Vince to do them for us."

"See! We are so doing this when we get home."

"What would we even get?" Naomi asks, laughing quietly at her boyfriend's excitement.

"Now might be the wrong time to ask us that, Mimi." Nicholas mumbles, leaning his head against Noah's. "Asking two drunk people what they should get tattooed is just asking for trouble."

"What do you mean? My best ideas come to me when I'm drunk." Noah jokes, his laughter mixing with Nicholas'.

"Yeah... I'm sure they do.”

Both her and Nicholas are smiling, and she notices how fond the boy looks, eyes dropping to Noah before flicking to the screen to look at her. Her breath hitches the second their eyes meet but Nicholas' smile only widens, eyes crinkling at the ends. She clears her throat, gaze moving back towards Noah.

"We'll figure it out when y'all get home, okay?"

Both boys nod, agreeing with her that they should think on it and agree whenever they come back to Richmond. Mimi reaches up to cover her mouth with her hand, stifling the yawn that's been threatening to escape for the last few minutes.

"What time is it there?" Noah asks softly. He yawns just seconds later, and Nicholas laughs above him.

"Around 1." She mumbles, snuggling further into her bed. They were about an hour or two behind her, she thinks, maybe more.

"You should go to bed." Nicholas says to her. "We didn't mean to keep you up."

"Oh, hush." She huffs out a quiet laugh. "You didn't keep me up, I wanted to talk to you guys. I miss you."

Both boys flush at her words, sheepish grins tugging at her lips and she has to stop herself from cooing.

"We miss you so much." Noah hums, trying to keep his voice low. Nicholas nods at his words, head knocking against Noah's. "And we can't wait to see you. One more week."

"One more week." She says back, lips curling.

"Text me when you wake up?" Noah asks while Nicholas slowly rolls off of him, instead snuggling next to him. He throws an arm over Noah's back and Naomi doesn't miss the way Noah sinks into the feeling of Nicholas pressed against him.

"I always do, babe."

"I know," He whines, pouting at her through the screen. "Just felt like I should ask."

"You shouldn't have to ask." She hums, giving Noah a gentle smile. "I'll text you first thing in the morning, okay?"

Noah nods, cheeks stained red, and her gentle smile only widens as a comfortable silence falls over them. Naomi stifles yet another yawn, eyes fluttering closed, and when she opens them both Noah and Nicholas are already staring at her, softness swirling around their eyes. She brings the blanket up to hide part of her face.

"We love you." Noah murmurs, voice soft and quiet, like he only wanted her and Nicholas to hear.

Something shifts the exact moment her eyes met Nicholas' across the screen, her breath hitching.

She knew there was still something there for Nicholas, something that she pushed so far deep inside of her that she thought she could ignore. It's starting to surface again, her throat tightening up as if it's going to come up that way, and she swallows it down as Nicholas kept his gaze on her through the screen. Even in his drunken haze there's still a softness in his eyes that she knows is just for her... and Noah. He gives her a smile, a dopey one similar to Noah's, and then he's looking back down at the boy. His expression doesn't change, and she has to take a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart, biting down on her lip to try and stop it from trembling.

"I love you," She manages to get out, saying it to no one in particular. Her eyes moved from Nicholas' back to Noah's, and she somehow was able to muster up a smile. "So much. I can't wait for you guys to come home."

They both smile, wide and bright and so fucking beautiful, Naomi feels like she can't breathe. it was starting to become overwhelming, this feeling itching farther and farther up into her chest and almost like she was being suffocated. They eventually say their goodbyes, and she even manages to say goodbye to Jolly, who she's forgotten was even there, hair wet from the shower he must've taken while her, Noah, and Nicholas fucked around on FaceTime.

"Goodnight Mimi." He smiles as Noah turns the camera towards him. "I'll make sure your boys are alright."

Your boys. She clears her throat, giving him a tight-lipped smile that he notices almost right away, brows furrowing.

"You always take care of them for me. Thanks Jolly."

A few more goodbyes from Nicholas and Noah, who seem to not want to let her go yet before Jolly has to physically take the phone away from them and end the call himself, Naomi is met with silence. She lets her phone fall to lay beside her as she rolls over on her back, eyes glued to the ceiling.

That feeling she felt earlier? The one she couldn't explain? The same one she got whenever she looked at both Noah and Nicholas? It's clear as day to her now, slowly inching its way through her. It's in her bloodstream, flowing throughout her body. She can feel it in her toes, to the tips of her fingers, all the way to the top of her fucking head.

There's no doubt in her mind she loves Noah - she has always loved him. From the second they met she knew it was him. But there was no denying the feelings that she had for Nicholas. They were always there too, and maybe in the beginning it wasn't as intense, but now... Now it feels like there's a ten-ton brick weighing on her chest because she knows that it's serious.

Naomi was in love with Nicholas Ruffilo, and maybe she always had been, and it scared the absolute shit out of her.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #noah sebastian x ofc #mine

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xxsycamore · 11 months

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋'𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

↬ 💢 You wish that Theo would stop being a rude tease, even if just for one day. Your wish is soon granted.

Theodorus van Gogh x f!Reader • rating: G • tags: Fluff; Domestic Fluff; Breakfast in bed; Birthday Fluff • wordcount: 1,411 • masterlist

a/n: TODAY IS @yarnnerdally 'S BDAY!! She said everything is about Nanami today bcs of their shared birthday, I decided to prove her wrong and surprise her with a little something with another lover of hers because she deserves ALL the love, not just Nanamin's ~ Happy Birthday, dear Ally!!! I hope you have tons of fun today, I'm sending you a thousand hugs!! ILY SO MUCH!! 💕💕💕💕

"I already told you I got the day off today. Seriously. One would think you'd become less of an airhead with age."

"I just wasn't sure! Jeez! You're married to your job anyway, why would my birthday be special enough to part with it even for a day..."

Theo mirrors your own frown, forking some of his dinner in the meantime. How dare you consider such a thing? You're the most important person in his life now - is it so far-fetched and not obvious that he'd put time and effort into celebrating the birthday of his beloved? Not having yet delved into the delicious-looking meal that you've prepared for him, he quickly stands up and comes to your side to steal a kiss.

Your giggles are bringing a smile to his own face too, all hints of frowning now in the past. Theo finds himself tugged by the tie for another kiss before he can retreat to his seat, but he shakes his head firmly.

"No dessert before dinner. Or do you really like acting immature that much?"

"I wish you weren't such a rude tease for ONE DAY, Theo... hmph."

💙 - 💙 - 💙 -💙 - 💙

It's like the gentle caress of an angel brushing across your cheek when your senses start to awaken naturally, undisturbed by alarming noises calling for an early start to yet another busy day. Waking up on your own, in a good mood, when the sun is already high in the sky... it's a birthday present on its own already, and you lazily stretch out your limbs to embrace it.

It's then that you realize the gentle caress from earlier is not a fragment of your still dream-dazed imagination, but it doesn't belong to an angel either - it's the hand of none other than your own personal devil, Theodorus van Gogh.

"Hehe...Good Morning to you too, Theo."

"Morning, schat. Happy Birthday."

Oh, you could get used to this. Though you've heard many words of sweetness in Dutch fall from those perfect lips of his, they're always a special treat, even more so when accompanied by the gentleness of his strong hands. You lean into the touch, eyelids falling closed as if you're ready to spend the entirety of the sunny summer day between the sheets with him and call it a day well spent. Theo is used to spending very little time in bed before starting his day, so you make the best of his cuddly mood, playfully entangling your legs in his under the sheets, as if to keep him where he is for longer.

Theo answers by pulling himself even closer to you, his chest now pressed firmly against your back as he cuddles you from behind. You hum a little in surprise, but it comes out almost as a purr instead.

"Still sleepy, Theo? You couldn't get enough sleep?"

"Oh no, I'm fine. It just seemed like you wanted me to hold you for awhile."

Oh. Well, he read you perfectly, then.

"Hah... with how many things we planned for the day last night, here I thought you'd call me lazy for lounging in bed at this hour."

Theo's feather-light caresses move to trace the curve of your shoulder and get distracted with playing with your hair just like you love it.

"Why would I call you lazy? It's your birthday. You can do whatever you want. Get some rest, everything else can wait."

If you thought you were all relaxed up until now, then those words turned you into a content puddle of inner peacefulness. You're floating on the cloud that your shared bed is, your body light, your sprawling about justified by the words of a workaholic. It's the best medicine.

"Hmm, I guess I have to listen to you, then. You're always right. Though, things can always get even more self-indulgent..."

"Would you like me to do something for you?"

How attentive, the suggestion coming before you can even finish your thought. Maybe you should take advantage of this.

"I was thinking of breakfast in bed, but I'd hate to be the only one bringing food in here while you're just watching...since you hate bringing your syrup-drenched pancakes anywhere near the bed."

"Well, I guess it's time for your first birthday surprise then."

Leaving you alone in bed with only the big imaginary question mark looming over your head, you raise yourself to a seated position in bed, gripping the sheets into your palms to get some sense of reality in this rather dream-like situation. The sound of his footsteps comes closer again so quickly that you have no time for guessing for yourself. He's holding a silver tray with a rich breakfast for two on it, carefully placing it in the center of the bed in front of you.

"If the eggs have gone cold i'll fry you new ones. You like them done this, right? Or if you want me to change anything else, I'll do that too. I'm not too keen on making breakfast, unfortunately."

"Oh, no, please, Theo, you did amazing! There are so many delicacies here... this is a breakfast for a king!"

"Or a Queen." Theo remarks, an imprint of his smirking lips appearing on your cheek as he leans in close to smooch it.

Your reaching for the utensils is interrupted by the raising undercurrent of suspicion coated in sweetness. This is not ignorable anymore, and you rest your arms on your sides again as you look him in the eye.

"Okay Theo, what's wrong with you today?"

"...Wrong? Have I said something bad?"

"No! You're just- so considerable and gentle and-"

The nerve furrowing Theo's brow is old and familiar, a friend you're glad to meet again, almost.

"I'm normally considerable and gentle with the ones I love. Darling."

He's definitely trying if anything, and now you're guilty for claiming the opposite. You know his soft side better than anyone; his protectiveness, his determination to always put you first and foremost and to melt you with gestures of sweet, sweet love. That's your Theo. Yet being bombed with all of those little acts of affection first thing in the morning couldn't not make you look for a reason behind them, stupid as it might sound.

Theo sighs, seeing that his smart girl saw through his plan right away, even though it's only just been set in motion. Picking up a strawberry from the food tray and lifting it to your lips, he makes his confession.

"You said that you wanted me to stop being...'a rude tease' for one day. I've already prepared some other surprises for you but I thought one more gift wouldn't hurt."

This is...something you said last night at diner. And Theo not only remembered your little remark of frustration, but committed to fixing his attitude overnight just to please you. Now that's a surprise.

"Theo...! Oh my god. No, please, I love you just as you are! I love your sharp tongue and how brash you are sometimes, and I know well enough you don't mean it if you accidentally say something mean... Theo, I fell in love with you even the way you were in the beginning, do you seriously think I'd rather you act differently now?"

Theo's pretty aquamarine eyes widen all for you to admire, and sure enough, it captivates you enough to forget the strawberry offered to you. That's Theo's chance to withdraw his hand and...to pop the little red fruit right into his mouth instead.

"Hey!"

"Gods. Thank you. I'm glad to hear that, because... you seemed so happy just now. You deserve all of this, liefje, and while it comes naturally to do anything I can to make you happy, I wasn't sure if I'm doing it correctly."

"What, loving me? You've always been perfect at it, Theo. I want your love just as I know it."

"Hm." He takes another strawberry between his fingers, ready to correct his earlier teasing and reward you instead. Before you can bite into it, he withdraws just to add, "Hope you don't regret it much. I plan to give lots of love to my birthday girl today."

You chuckle bashfully, trying not to show just how much you're looking forward to it. While he's not forbidden from making another joke about you being excited like a little kid, you surely will try to prevent the idea from getting in his head in the first place.

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wherebettertoescape · 1 year

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A Little Life - Harold Pinter Theatre

For anyone who does wish to attend this production, please don’t take the content warnings lightly - the self-harm is graphic and two characters have full-frontal nudity.

I (Freddie) attended the matinee production at the Harold Pinter Theatre in London on Sunday 7th May

THIS REVIEW/ANALYSIS DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR BOTH THE NOVEL AND STAGE PRODUCTION, SO PLEASE BE AWARE!

Trigger Warnings: talks of self harm, child abuse, sexual assault, domestic abuse and more

There’s no discernible reaction from the audience when Luke Thompson as Willem makes his entrance onto the stage. He’s wearing a dark blue hoodie, the hood pulled up over his hair - perfectly innocuous, nothing spectacular or grand as he walks about the stage. The lights are still bright, the audience is still chatting, laughter is filling the room. And Luke Thompson as Willem is onstage frying himself some bacon and eggs.

What has struck me again and again whenever I reread A Little Life - because, yes, I get a masochistic kind of joy from putting myself through that pain repeatedly - is the intimacy of it. Naturally with any book, the reader is granted the chance to feel close to the characters, to garner a look at their lives behind the veil. But if you were to ask me, I would say that there are very few - if any - novels that create this illusion as Hanya Yanagihara’s does. For 813 pages you are allowed to experience this life as they are, to experience snapshots of their lives - the good, the bad and the unimaginably horrifying - even as the rest of New York, the rest of the world, goes on as normal, with no thought spared to what is occurring within the walls of Lispenard Street and their subsequent homes.

The awareness that despite what Jude is revealing to the readers about his past, the beyond nightmarish history he has, the world is continuing to go on as normal was perhaps the aspect of the novel I adore so much that I was most scared about losing in adapting it for other mediums.

But from the moment Luke Thompson stepped onto stage, transformed into Willem and beginning to go about his daily life, with the moving images of New York streets surrounding him in his apartment, I knew that my worries had been unfounded. Ivo Van Hove with his unbelievable direction paired with Jan Versweyveld’s set design had found a way to maintain that understanding.

Throughout almost all of the performance, there is no moment of stasis. Be it JB and Malcom painting and working at desks on the right side of the stage, or Andy reading his book in his clinic, or the ever-present Willem and Harold.

The former is always in the same spot on a sofa at the back of the stage, flipping through scripts, determined to make it big as an actor, pouring all of his attention and focus onto learning the lines, dedicated to making his dream a reality, and yet always there ready to support Jude. In the second act, Luke Thompson takes the exact same pose when listening to Jude revealing the details of his childhood, desperate to understand his best friend, and at this stage his lover, in the same way he had been desperate to make it as an actor.

Harold, however, spends much of his time on stage left, stationed at the kitchen set up. Constantly in movement, cooking several dishes throughout the course of the play. A reference, perhaps, to the number of Thanksgivings Jude is reported to have spent with him and his wife, Julia (absent from this adaptation).

Despite the eternal loneliness that James Norton as Jude exudes with just his presence, he is only truly alone for a few moments - the harrowing whisper of “x equals x” that he gasps out after Elliot Cowan as Caleb leaves him naked in the street. It is then that he is alone onstage, laying in his blood, until he is retrieved by his loved ones and taken to rest on Andy’s hospital bed.

It is this detail of James Norton’s performance as Jude that I found the most powerful - which is saying something, considering that I am considering suing him for emotional damages, hasn’t anyone ever told him to think about using his acting powers for good, rather than evil? He captures a side of Jude that I had not previously considered - Jude views himself as a side character in his own life. He doesn’t feel worthy of attention, of his friendships, he is lonely in spite of being surrounded by those he loves the most and as a result feels unable to call out and ask for the help he desperately craves but does not believe that he deserves.

The contrast between this and the fact that Jude is always centre stage is immense and almost disconcerting to watch and caused me to spend the entire performance practically begging him in my head to just turn around, they’re right there!

But this desire to be helped and to be heard is brought to life by the presence of Nathalie Armin as Ana. The first person in Jude’s life to truly care about him, and the only female in this adaptation of the novel. Armin has a commanding presence on the stage, even as she is a mere figment of Jude’s imagination. Dressed in all black, a stark difference to the bright set, allowing her to melt into the darkness when the spotlight focuses on Norton.

In many ways, Ana vocalises the audience’s own thoughts - pleading with Jude to confide in his friends, desperate to stop him from harming himself further, and the relief in Armin’s expression as Jude finally tells Willem his story.

The choice to keep the cast small causes a heavy weight to be put on Elliot Cowan’s shoulders, as he is tasked with portraying three different, truly heinous characters. Even without the costume changes, however, I truly believe it would be possible to tell which of the three he was in each scene.

Cowan gives truly fantastic portrayals of each of the villains of Jude’s life, as Brother Luke he shows the softer touch which allowed for him to manipulate Jude in his innocence, he never handles Norton roughly when playing the part of Brother Luke. Carefully pulling him along, coaxing Jude to trust him to the point that the child does not realise just how wrong it is what Brother Luke asks of him.

This acting from Cowan makes Jude’s words all the more heartbreaking in Act 2 when talking to Willem, as the audience is able to see why Jude insists that Brother Luke was different, that he did love him.

When taking up the role of Caleb, however, he becomes the manifestation of everything Jude believes about himself. He has none of Brother Luke’s gentleness, but all of his intensity and possessiveness. The last that we see of Caleb, is when he lifts Jude up by the arm, Norton’s body used to reflect the words he says - “x equals x”. Being with Caleb has brought to life Jude’s darkest thoughts of himself, and Jude views this as proof that no matter what he will always be the same. Damaged and unlovable, to be blamed for everything he had been subjected to in his youth.

As Dr Traylor, Cowan’s words are clipped and straightforward. He is the most detached of Jude’s abusers, not caring for his name and only referring to him as “a prostitute” and reinforcing what Jude already believes about himself. It is not until Jude’s “release” that we see any true kind of emotion from Dr Traylor. Cowan shows Dr Traylor with a manic kind of joy upon forcing Jude to run from him, all the while on the tail in his car. The chase scene is long, and dramatic with the incredible musicians rising in volume and intensity with their instruments. The length of the scene forces thoughts back to Jude’s earlier response when JB asked about his legs - “I used to run cross country”.

In all of his roles, Cowan has the same commanding presence onstage as Armin. The moment he leaves the wings, regardless of who he is in that moment, the audience’s attention is drawn to him. As though by sheer glares and willpower we will be able to change Jude’s story, that we as mere observers will be able to push against Cowan’s slow, purposeful steps and keep him away from Norton.

Zubin Varla and Emilio Doorgasingh gave masterful portrayals as Harold and Andy, respectively. They are markedly different to the presence of Willem, Malcom and JB - in what proves to be a very physical play, Harold rarely touches his son, while Andy only does so as necessary in his medical examinations of Jude.

This respect for Jude’s boundaries when it comes to physical contact is what truly sets Harold and Andy apart from the other older figures in Jude’s life (those villains played by Cowan). Varla’s portrayal of Harold is always evaluating his own movements, always second guessing himself before moving towards Jude - he does not seek out the easy, casual contact shown by the other three young adults. But when Jude comes to him for comfort, Harold is always eager to provide it.

The final scene of Harold and Jude embracing - Jude in his wheelchair, Harold knelt on the ground in front of him, with the rejected trays of food scattered on the floor around him - when Norton practically falls into Varla’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder, as a screen slowly comes down to hide them, JB on the outside, is one that I believe will stay with me for years to come.

There is an emotion in Varla’s voice when he confides in the audience the story of Jacob, his first son. And in that closing scene we are forced back to that monologue, when he confesses to anyone listening that when Jacob died, there was a little part of him relieved, as that meant it was over. And although it is heartbreaking, it is this statement that makes it no real surprise that when the screen lifts again, Harold is alone in front of that wheelchair to report Jude’s suicide.

Where Armin’s Ana shows the sympathetic side of the audience, the aching desire to hug Jude and promise him it will be okay, to protect him both from the world and himself, Doorgasingh’s Andy exhibits the rougher side of it. His frustration at Jude’s abject refusal to accept help, his anger at watching someone he loves destroy themselves. The hopelessness he feels when his advice goes unnoticed, and his frequent calls to Harold and Willem - often screaming at the two people Jude is closest to, desperate for them to be there for him more.

Andy does not have the same stage presence as many of the other characters do, instead he - and the same can be said for Malcom - almost fades into the background at times. But they are there, ready to pick up the pieces. Both Doorgasingh and Wyatt are spectacular in their characterisations. In the novel, Andy and Malcom show an awareness that they are not the most important people to Jude, that they cannot help him in the ways others can, and in this adaptation, the actors bring that feeling to life.

They are there, working in their own lives, on their own projects. Malcom quietly sees what Jude refuses to acknowledge about his worsening condition and accommodating for it even despite the push back of his best friend. And Andy who can be seen pacing at the side of the stage, calling Jude when he can sense everything is getting too much for him - they are both there for him in their own quiet ways, and their loyalty and love for Jude is never questioned by the audience. It is also important to note that in this adaptation of the novel, neither of these characters address the audience directly - the only two whose focuses are solely within the story with no fourth-wall breaks.

Omari Douglas as JB, on the other hand, stands out more than anyone. First as a result of his costumes - often more brighter than those of his castmates - and then just as how he presents himself. Anyone who watched his performance in It’s a Sin will recall how Douglas’ presence demands to be noticed, and this is carried forth onto the Harold Pinter Stage. He captures the heart of JB’s character - desperate to be heard, to be needed by his friends. Charming in his own way, despite how his messy character causes him to betray his friends at several points in the story.

Douglas transitions well from how JB is around his friends - brash, loud, confident - to how he truly feels when talking to the audience. His voice is softer, he somehow seems a little smaller as he talks about watching Jude, how he feels Willem doesn’t value his friendship as highly as the others, how he feels they don’t need him anymore.

While JB’s drug addiction is rather rushed in this adaptation - it’s discussed at length in the novel - Douglas eloquently displays his anguish to the audience, his desperation to quit. A previously difficult to like character, after having seen him mock Jude’s disability, and betray his trust, the audience is able to empathise and understand him better. And when it is just him and Jude left at the end of the show, Douglas doesn’t say anything, but takes up the same space as had previously been filled by Willem and Malcom. He quietly watches Jude - just as he had before with his painting, only this time, it’s out of concern for his friend, rather than concern for his career and viewing him as a muse.

I have already mentioned how this production brought me to tears on several occasions, however none made me sob more so than Luke Thompson’s monologue at the end before his car crash. Having already read the book several times, I had known that this was coming and yet it didn’t stop me from hoping that somehow I’d misunderstood the plot point and that Willem did actually survive. So when Thompson took centre-stage and I knew what was next, my sister took my hand as the two of us prepared ourselves.

Beyond the tear-jerker of a monologue, when I later considered the adaptation as a whole I wondered over the choice to mention Hemming at that point. Perhaps this mention worked some some of the audience, however for me I felt it should have been mentioned earlier, as it is in the novel. With Willem only mentioning Hemming before he dies and only in reference to Jude, it caused me to reflect somewhat poorly on their relationship. It’s a minor point about the adaptation, however I do wonder if mentioning his older brother earlier, before Jude himself begins to use a wheelchair, it would have been more impactful.

I could sing praises about the chemistry between Norton and Thompson onstage - however considering I have the voice of a dying seal, it’s probably best that I don’t. Instead, I’ll simply say that their interactions in the second act, as Willem confesses his attraction to Jude, and he struggles to understand it caused my heart to skip a beat.

Norton captures Jude’s innocence throughout the play perfectly - from the moments that he slips into his childhood self in flashbacks, to when he’s so unsure in his relationship with Willem, unused to being with someone who does genuinely love and care for him.

All in all, I enjoyed this stage adaptation of A Little Life - if “enjoy” can be the correct word for a production that brought me to tears and caused me to question the meaning of life. It was hauntingly beautiful, heartbreakingly sad and utterly harrowing. I don’t believe I’ve ever been quite so moved by a whole troupe of actors and the way that they characterise their roles. While I certainly have some criticisms and hang-ups about this show and the story in general, I shall save those for another post, hopefully less long and wordy.

Would I return to the Harold Pinter Theatre to watch it again given the choice? Truthfully, I’m not sure. While I fell in love with these actors, the direction, set design and music, I’m unsure if I could watch it again and feel the same level of intensity as I did on this watch. Also, I cried enough to give myself a headache by the end - so if I were to watch again, I’d have to remember to bring a water bottle to ensure I stayed hydrated.

#a little life #hanya yanigahara #jude st francis #willem ragnarsson #malcom irvine #jean-baptiste marion #jb marion #james norton #luke thompson #omari douglas #zach wyatt #ivo van hove #harold pinter theatre #west end #london theatre #uk theatre #theatre review #theatre analyses #plays

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jakeysfallingsky · 1 year

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Among the Wildflowers - Chapter 5 - Jake Kiszka x Reader

Happy Wednesday!! Here is Chapter 5, earlier than I thought I could finish it. :) Thank for for all of the love with this story. I hope you enjoy this one!

18+ Content - Minors, do not interact.

Summary: You're a hairstylist in Nashville, and the boys in Greta Van Fleet become your clients when they relocate to the city. They quickly all take a liking to you, one sweet guitarist especially. Jake is patient in his pursuit of you, but will your self-created set of rules hold you back from ever being anything more with him?

Word Count: 5300+

Warnings: 18+ content - unprotected sex, fingering, slapping, etc.

The next couple weeks flew by. You and Jake were both so busy, but managed to make time for each other here and there during the week and all day long on the weekends. Your time together was filled with Jake’s cooking, going for walks, watching movies, and plenty of sex. You and Jake couldn’t get enough of each other, and there was more than one occasion where the thought of sneaking into the bar bathroom when his brothers weren’t looking or ducking behind a bush in the park seemed enticing because waiting to get home was proving to be exceptionally difficult. True to his words from the farmer’s market parking lot, Jake loved being close to you and touching you in some way at all times. It could be holding hands, an arm around your shoulder, a hand placed gently on your lower back - he needed to be physically connected to you constantly.

It was the night before the boys were set to leave for three weeks and Jake asked you to come over and spend the night - not that you would ever dream of going home and sleeping alone in your own bed.

You came over as soon as you could after work and brought pizza for dinner. Neither of you wanted to cook or go out. Letting yourself in with the key that Jake gave you the day after you gave him one, you announced your presence. “Jaaaaaaaake! I’m here!” You yelled.

He was in the kitchen making both of you a drink and greeted you with a small smile and kiss. “Hi baby.” He said softly. Dressed in his favorite comfy black joggers and well-loved t-shirt with the top half of his hair messily pulled back and short wavy pieces framing his face and ears, he looked so cozy and gentle.

You can tell he’s a little wound up from the excitement and nerves about leaving for more shows, and you assume a little anxious about leaving you for a few weeks.

Your assumption is correct.

“How was your day?” You ask him as you turn to grab plates and napkins for the pizza.

“Alright.” He says, not offering anything else. It’s unlike him to not have much to say to you. Your stomach sinks, knowing that he is not himself tonight.

“Just alright? Did you do anything fun, or get any sunshine outside?”

Jake shook his head. “Not really, just some last minute packing and stuff.” He mumbles. He hands you the drink he made. It has bourbon and cherries and other ingredients you can’t name, but it’s delicious.

You take a sip. “Oh Jake, this one’s good. In another life, you’re a fancy chef and bartender I think.”

He smiled with closed lips slightly at your compliment but his eyes stayed glued to the counter. “Let’s eat on the couch,” he tells you, “I just want to lay down with you.”

“Are you feeling okay? You don’t have a headache or anything, do you?” You place the back of your hand on his forehead to feel his temperature.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about tomorrow.” He turns to grab his plate and waits for you to grab yours. Always the gentleman, he allows you to walk first.

You both sit on the couch and set your plates down and you grab his hands before he can get settled. “You’re going to have so much fun and bring so much happiness to a lot of people. And we are going to talk or text everyday and even though I’ll miss you like crazy, these three weeks will fly by. I promise.”

Jake’s eyes met yours. “I’ll miss you more. Yeah, it’ll be fun, I just,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I get really nervous about tour even though everything always turns out fine and it’s great but I’m just more anxious this time around because I’m leaving you at home, too.”

Both of you picked up your plates and started eating. “We used to go months without seeing each other Jake, it’ll be a bummer being apart for a few weeks but we will be okay.” You remind him.

“It’s different now,” he says in an annoyed tone laced with a little bit of hurt that he’s never used with you, “it’s different and you know that.”

You know his emotions are tense and you don’t want to say anything to make it worse. “I’m sorry.” You sighed, thinking that was the best thing to say and go back to eating your pizza.

Jake takes another bite but he isn’t hungry anymore. He watches you finish your slice and he silently takes your plate and his to the kitchen. You watch him carefully.

Jake comes back and lays down on the couch with his head in your lap. You take his hair tie out, loosen the tangles, and run your fingers through his hair, knowing how little touches soothe him. It’s a wordless way of telling him things are going to be okay.

“Want to watch a movie?” You ask. “Yeah.” He says quietly and you can see the gears turning in his brain, he’s thinking about something and trying to put words together in his head before speaking out loud. He was someone that put thought and consideration into the words he spoke. That was one of the many things that you liked about Jake. He was incredibly intentional in all that he did.

You reached over to grab a warm blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over Jake. Grabbing the remote, you start scrolling on Netflix.

“Thank you.” Jake mumbles as he gets cozy under the blanket, head still in your lap.

“For what?” You ask, fingers lightly playing with his hair again, eyes on the TV.

“Everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Jake.”

He hums. “No, I do. I’m just so thankful you want to know me and care for me. I feel like you know me and you see me beyond Jake the guitar player. I know I can be moody and emotional but you see me for me and you like me. At least, I think you do.” He pauses to giggle a little bit and you do too. “You’re so beautiful inside and out and I don’t know how I got so lucky to know you, but I care so deeply for you and thank whatever higher powers placed you in my life a few years ago every single day.” He finishes and presses a kiss to your thigh where his head is resting. He had been turned away from you, facing the TV the entire time he spoke out of shyness. Despite feeling comfortable and safe with you, there’s still a piece of him that is so shy with a dash of insecurity about sharing how deeply he feels for you.

“Jake,” you say, as emotions are rising in your throat, “you’re going to make me cry. Come here, baby.” You try to flip him to at least lay on his back. “Let me see your pretty face.”

He slowly turns over, cheeks pink as he peers up at you. You reach down to plant a sweet kiss on his lips. You try to pull back but Jake slips his arms around your neck, gently holding you in place. “Don’t stop kissing me, please.” He breathes desperately with your lips touching. He was trying to commit the feeling of your lips on his to memory, (as if he could ever forget what it felt like to kiss you and touch you) knowing that would be all he has for a few weeks.

It’s an odd position that you’re sitting in but you oblige, eventually shifting Jake from under you so you can lay on top of him. He’s urgently kissing you, his hands holding your face while your forearms are on the couch keeping you up, around his head. You pull back to take a break, both of you breathing heavily and staring at each other.

Jake tugs you back down to his lips before his hands start roaming, squeezing your ass and thighs. His breathing is erratic, but yours is too as your lips meet his and your hands explore up and down his warm body. His tongue is entangled with yours and you can feel the desperation and longing on his lips and you wonder if he can feel the same on yours. Jake breaks the kiss and you place your forehead on his, your chest heaving. His sweet eyes are dripping with lust and adoration, the two emotions swirling together in his honey irises. “Need to make you mine,” he says lowly and a little out of breath, “say you’re mine, baby.”

Not giving you a chance to even process what he said, let alone respond with words, he flips you without warning so he’s on top and fully in control. He smirks at the surprised squeak you let out. Your arms fly around his neck and pull him back down to your lips. No words are exchanged, and you keep hungrily kissing him as if your breathing would stop if your lips detached from his.

Jake takes your bottom lip between his teeth and pulls. “Say it.” He says forcefully, with an air of authority mixed with desperation, his need for you to verbalize your commitment to him becoming stronger and stronger with each passing second. “Say you’re mine. Say we’re together.”

“I’m yours, Jake. All yours, just yours.” You breathe onto his lips without any hesitation and kiss him urgently and he breaks from your lips to start leaving kisses and small bites along the side of your neck, dipping down into your chest. His heart is beating so fast, but relief washes over him at your words. His kisses and bites and movements don’t stop being desperate, though. He’s soaking up every inch of your breathtaking body, never wanting to take a moment with you for granted.

“So gorgeous… I’m yours, sweetheart… all yours.” he whispers as he bites into your soft skin and sucks, finally running his tongue over the places where his teeth have been.

Your hands find the bottom of his shirt and quickly work it off his body, your fingers dancing around the soft expanse of his chest and stomach before coming up to sweetly cup his face and guide him back to your own. You don’t move to kiss him, you just look at him for a moment, taking him in. Lust is seeping out of every single one of his pores and he knows he’s only going to get worse after you say whatever is about to come out of your mouth. He stares at your lips with hooded eyes in anticipation, breathing heavy.

“Jacob Kiszka, I need you to fuck me so incredibly hard right this very fucking minute.” You say with your death grip on his face.

He huffs an out-of-breath laugh, adrenaline coursing through his veins after the emotional rollercoaster of the last ten minutes. “You want to have some fun baby?” Jake coos, his voice dripping with want, and he takes one finger and slowly trails it down your jaw. You nod and he smiles adoringly at you before his warm eyes turn dark. “You need me to fuck you right now?” He asks in a deep voice, his eyes boring into yours with a piercing stare.

You bite your lip with a smile and nod and Jake instantly has his hands under your shirt, lifting and nearly ripping it off your head, and without missing a beat, your bra follows your shirt. His lips instantly move to your chest, sucking your nipples and leaving small bites while his hands grip your hips tightly. You try to hold back a whine but a small whimper manages to escape your throat.

Jake doesn’t look up from his position in between your tits but he mutters “I want to hear you baby, all of you. Let me hear that pretty voice sing for me.”

He turns his attention back to your nipples and your hips thrust upward involuntarily and a loud whine makes its way out of you. Jake looks at you from his position on your chest and grins. “That’s more like it, baby. I know my girl likes to make pretty noises for me.” Without warning, Jake plunges two fingers inside of you and you throw your head back with a moan and he chuckles.

He starts pumping his fingers relentlessly while kissing his way back up your neck, finally meeting your lips. You kiss him hungrily, your hand traveling to his pants while his fingers continue their dance inside of you and around your clit.

“Why are you still wearing your clothes?” You pant, fully out of breath and Jake huffs a laugh. “Take my fucking pants off then, I’m not stopping you.” He manages to get out, equally as out of breath as you are as you start to palm his throbbing cock over his pants.

You start to pull down his joggers and boxers the best that you can while his fingers show no signs of stopping, but you have trouble pulling them down his fantastic, show-stopping ass from this angle. Sitting up a little bit, you gain some leverage and are able to slip them down to his ankles while Jake is nearly crouched on top of you.

“God, if only your ass wasn’t so nice, that wouldn’t have been so hard.” You mumble as you grasp him in your hand and begin to work him up and down. Jake swallows hard as your movements start. “I know you are not complaining about my ass right now.” He growls and flicks his middle finger in a particularly diabolical way inside of you, nailing a sensitive spot perfectly and you moan his name in response. It’s the most beautiful sound Jake’s ever heard and he’s craving more of it.

You continue to pump up and down his shaft and his fingers twitch inside of you. Feeling a surge of boldness, you take advantage of his vulnerable state and quickly flip your positions, you now being on top.

A shit-eating grin spreads across your face as Jake looks up at you in disbelief. “I think I changed my mind, I’m going to fuck you instead.” You say against Jake’s lips, giving him a final kiss before removing your hand from his cock and positioning yourself over him, fully sinking all the way down. Jake moans deeply with his hands on your hips, feeling how tight you are. You start grinding into him, moving up and down, riding him at a slow pace to start. He flexes his hips up into you just a little bit, perfectly hitting all of the spots inside of you calling out for him.

“You feel so good inside me, baby,” you whisper praise into his neck, “you were made for me.” Jake responds with a whimper, feeling you squeeze around him as you bounce up and down slowly. You pick up your pace a little bit, and Jake’s hands slap your ass and grip onto it tightly. You yelp, feeling the sting of his hands, but it just spurs you on. “Does my filthy girl like it when I slap her?” Jake pants, your faster pace making it difficult to get words out. You answer with a hungry kiss to his lips, taking his bottom lip in your teeth and slowly pulling it down, not sacrificing your relentless up-and-down rhythm on his cock.

Jake, while he certainly enjoys the view of your tits bouncing up and down while you ride him into the sunset, can only take a lack of control during sex for so long. He grips your hips and carefully flips you again, resuming your original position. You bend one leg at the knee and he guides it over his shoulder, quickly sliding back into you at an angle that is so pleasurable and filthy at the same time.

Jake picks up where your unforgiving quick pace left off, pumping inside of you deeply and quickly. His pants are mixed with moans and the noises he’s making are so incredibly sexy. You throw your head back at the sensation of his cock pounding into you. “Jake, baby, you’re hitting it so good, please don’t stop.” You whine. Jake can feel himself nearing an orgasm, but wants you to cum first. Always the gentleman.

“Can you cum for me sweetheart?” Jake asks, and his voice is so sweet despite the roughness of him continuing to slam into you over and over. “Let go baby, go ahead and let go for me.” Your head tilts back on its own accord and you moan Jake’s name one last time as your orgasm hits you impossibly hard. Jake helps you ride out the final bits of ecstasy before he reaches his climax as well, his movements slowing as he kisses down your chest as he completely finishes inside you. You’re brought back down to earth and your eyes open to Jake looking at you with a tired, fucked-out smile.

“That was so good baby, God. You did so good, so, so perfect for me, angel.” Jake praises you as he kisses your cheek and carefully slides out of you, making sure that you’re good before getting off of the couch. He gives you one quick kiss and then runs to his bathroom and returns with a washcloth and gently cleans you up and hands you his shirt to put on.

“So are you my boyfriend now or something?” You ask cheekily and Jake grins, jumping on the couch and tackling you, both of you erupting in sweet giggles. You’re on your back, looking up at Jake as he leans overtop of you, and he gives you possibly the biggest and most beautiful smile you’ve seen on him yet. “Yeah, I think I am.” He says, his voice full of adoration, and he leans down to press a loving kiss to your lips.

You both take one last shower together. Jake holds you close around your waist under the warm water as you wash his hair. His calloused hands are gentle as they wash his sweet smelling soap all over you. Jake runs his hands softly over every inch of your body, especially over the finger-shaped bruises forming on your ass. He’s already missing every beautiful piece of you.

Jake hands you a towel once you’re done and you start getting ready for bed together. Still unable to locate his rumored hairdryer, you force him to sit on the side of his tub, just like he did weeks ago, as you comb his wavy hair. “You can’t go to bed with wet hair,” you grumble, “it’ll be crazy in the morning.”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, you know best.” He says sweetly while he’s watching you work on his hair. Your eyes are completely focused on the task at hand, and your tongue is just barely poking out of your plump lips. He thinks it’s charming and cute and it takes Jake an incredible amount of restraint to not yank you into his lap for another round.

You know he not so secretly likes it when you play with his hair, so you grab some of the soft wave gel you told him to start using but he usually forgets about, and start raking your fingers through his shoulder length hair. Jake’s eyes shut, but not before he moves his hands to gently hold you at your hips, rubbing slow and small circles under his shirt that you’re wearing. Once the product is evenly distributed, you start scrunching his hair for him, smiling as you see his waves form. You lean down to hold his face with one hand and give him a tiny kiss on the nose. Jake’s eyes flutter open and he smiles at you.

You stroke the tiny hairs growing on his upper lip. He hasn’t shaved in a few days. “You know, you haven’t grown out your mustache in months. I always liked it.” You said fondly.

Jake hummed. “Yeah, I liked it too, I don’t know how it would look with my hair being so short though.”

“Well I, for one, think it would be really hot.” You tell him as you pull him up and lead him towards his bed.

“Oh really?” He asks as you both settle in under the covers. He pulls you to him and nuzzles his face into the top of your head.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you settle into his warm embrace. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” Jake says and kisses your hair. You both lay in each others arms, unmoving.

Jake sighs after a few moments of silence. “I’m really going to miss you.” He says, a sprinkle of sadness and longing in his words.

“I’ll miss you more, boyfriend.” You sleepily mumble in response and Jake’s stomach fills with butterflies at his new title. He squeezes you tighter, sensing that you’re about to fall into a deep sleep.

“Goodnight baby, sweet dreams.” He whispers and kisses your hair. You’re already asleep.

Jake lays there, overwhelmed with relief and happiness. He could leave for tour knowing it was finally official between you two, even though it really didn’t need to be said out loud. Truthfully, you both had been committed from the start.

You both were falling in love, hard.

•

Jake’s alarm went off far too early for both of your likings. He groaned, reaching blindly behind him for his phone, not wanting to separate himself from you. Your legs and arms were tangled up in his, per usual, but letting go of your warm embrace was the last thing he wanted to do on this final morning with you.

You stayed snuggled up into his chest. Jake leaned his head down to kiss your hair. His fingers started lightly tracing across your shoulders and up and down your back as he whispered your name. Normally, he was more than content to just lay with you while both of you woke up slowly, but he wanted to take advantage of every moment with you this morning to the fullest extent.

“Hey sweetheart, I’m sorry, but I need you to wake up, please.” Jake said softly into your ear. You groaned and snuggled into him deeper, not wanting to leave the warm nest of blankets or comfort of Jake’s chest.

“Just because you’re my boyfriend now doesn’t mean that you can be mean to me.” You sleepily pouted into Jake’s chest, still not making any effort to move.

A deep chuckle leaves Jake’s chest as he squeezes you closer to him. “You’re so dramatic.” He says lovingly before rolling you off of him and yanking the covers back. You gasp at the loss of contact and cold air hitting you.

“Jacob Thomas!” You yell but you’re instantly smothered by Jake climbing on top of you, peppering tiny kisses all over your face while he holds you down. The laughter leaving your lips is the sweetest music he’s ever heard, a song that he wishes would never end. His heart aches for you as your laughter dies down and he stares adoringly into your eyes.

“You’ll have to forgive me for wanting to spend some time with my girlfriend this morning.” He says, finishing with a kiss to your forehead before taking your hands and helping you out of bed. It’s the first time he’s ever gotten to use that word for you, and he can’t help the wide grin that takes over his face at the realization.

You playfully slap his ass as you both head to the bathroom to get ready for the day and he scoffs before yanking you into his arms, your back pressed to his chest, as he walks the two of you together down the hall.

You’re so thankful he’s in a silly and happy mood this morning. You weren’t sure how today would go, but are so glad to see that Jake is going to be just fine.

Well, you may have spoken too soon. You both get ready and you notice that Jake quiets down a little as he gets dressed and puts a few final items into his backpack. Pulling the sheets and comforter up, you make his bed while he sighs and zips up his backpack.

“No sadness yet,” you tell him as you pull him into you for a hug, “we aren’t saying goodbye for awhile.”

Jake nods into your shoulder and squeezes you tighter for a moment before pulling back. You grab his hand and lace your fingers together and walk down the stairs.

You’re busying yourself with making coffee and Jake quietly slips out of the kitchen to find his favorite round sunglasses. He returns as you’re pouring two mugs, one with no creamer for yourself and one that’s just shy of 25% french vanilla creamer for your boyfriend who doesn’t actually love coffee.

“Jake, why are you wearing sunglasses inside? You aren’t leaving for a bit.” You ask. He shrugs and grabs the mug filled with light brown coffee and takes a sip.

“I get that you sometimes want to be a cool mysterious rockstar when you’re out and about, but I want to see your pretty eyes.” You say quietly as you reach over to remove his sunglasses. He tries to stop you but he’s still holding his mug so you’re faster.

You gently push his sunglasses up to rest on the top of his head and his red-rimmed eyes meet yours. All of a sudden, you understand why he was wearing his sunglasses in the house and your heart breaks for the sweet boy in front of you.

“Oh baby,” you start, moving to hold him around his waist, “it’s going to be okay. I promise.” You hug him tightly and his arms find their way around you.

“I know,” he says in a small voice, “I know everything’s going to be okay but I’m going to miss you.” He finishes with a sniffle.

“I’ll miss you tons too.” You say before pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“I don’t want you to hide your emotions from me, I want you to feel safe feeling whatever it is you’re feeling with me. Talk to me. Especially while we’re apart, okay?” You say sweetly and Jake nods. “If you’re having a good day, or a bad day, or an okay day, I want to know it all.”

Jake runs a hand through his hair and nods again. “Thank you sweetheart, I know you’re there for me. I am just really in my feelings this morning. I never have really been… with anyone when I leave for tour and I think I’m just having a little bit of a hard time.” He finishes with a dry chuckle and you go on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek and rub his back.

“We’ll get through this and figure it all out together Jake, it’s going to be okay. Think of how sweet our time together will be when you get home.” You reassure him as you hold him close. He kisses your hair as a silent thank you. He appreciates your loving words more than you realize, and he can feel his anxiety starting to lessen. You have a way of bringing him back down to earth like no one else can.

You let go of him so you both can drink your coffee. “Hungry?” You ask him and he shakes his head. “Good, because you have no food. I checked.” You giggle and he cracks a smile.

“Can we sit outside together?” He asks and you nod. He laces a pinky finger with yours and leads you outside to the comfy chair on his back deck.

He sits down first and you sit in his lap with one arm around his neck. No words are needed, you both are enjoying the closeness and the warm morning sun while you sip your coffees. These are some of his last peaceful and quiet moments for the next several weeks, and you want him to savor them.

Jake speaks first as he watches squirrels chase each other in the grass. “I should have meal prepped for you. You’re going to starve these next few weeks.” He says fondly.

You tilt your head back and laugh. “It’s your dry sense of humor that I’ll miss most, Jacob.”

He laughs with you. “Not my cooking? How are you going to survive?”

You pinch his cheek and he swats your hand away playfully. “Believe it or not, while I certainly will miss your excellent kitchen skills, it’s not what I’ll miss most.” You tell him.

His warm eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t quite name, but something about the way he’s looking at you is making you feel fuzzy.

“What will you miss the most about me?” He asks softly.

You hum and trace along his jaw lightly with your fingers. “I think it’s just your presence and everything about you. Your energy brings so much happiness and peace everywhere you go. You see me and understand me in a way that no one ever has before. Being around you feels like home.”

Jake’s heart swells as he listens to you speak. All he’s ever wanted is to love and be loved in return, and he feels himself nearly there with you. He squeezes you tightly and nuzzles his face into your neck. He presses a kiss into your soft skin and looks up at you with a sweet smile.

“You make me feel the same way. Not to copy your answer.” You both chuckle. “There’s so much I could say about the way that you make me feel supported and cared for. You feel like my home, too.” He admits quietly. And I think I love you.

“We’re just a couple of softies, aren’t we?” You grin at him and Jake chuckles. “We sure are, baby.”

There’s a knock at the door and you reluctantly climb off of Jake, knowing your time has come to a close. He grabs your hand and you both walk to the front door and open it to see Sam, Josh, and Danny grinning.

“Hey guys, just give us a quick minute.” Jake says as he hands his backpack to Josh. “I’ll be right out.”

You step past Jake and give each of the three boys a quick hug. “Have so much fun, I can’t wait to hear about it all.” You grin and they all smile and say goodbye to you before turning back and walking down the driveway, giving you and Jake some privacy.

He tugs on your arm and leads you away from the door, out of sight from the others. He squeezes you impossibly tight. “This is it sweetheart,” he says quietly, one hand gripping the back of your head with his other on your upper back, “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon, baby. Have the best time.” You pull back from the hug and Jake’s looking at you with all of the adoration in the world. You can tell there’s something else he wants to say, but doesn’t. You don’t press him. It’s not the time.

He presses his lips to yours in a kiss that you both wish would never end. There’s so much that is said between the two of you wordlessly as your lips move together. You pull back just to lean in again to give him one more, unable to tear yourself away from him.

“Bye Jake.” You whisper. “Bye sweetheart.” he whispers back just as softly. He gives you one more hug, rocking you back and forth, before reluctantly letting go. Jake’s eyes are a little red and he has a bittersweet smile on his face. You can feel that your eyes and smile are matching. You stand in the doorway as he walks out, and you wave as they drive away, feeling your heart heading down the road with him.

•

TAGLIST: @reesetrippingthelight @spark-my-nature @katelynn-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf

#greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n #greta van fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka fanfic

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dutchvanwinkle · 1 year

Text

Mr Van der Linde Pt. 5 - Dutch x Reader

Hello again darlings! I hope those of you celebrating Easter / Ramadam / Passover are having a wonderful weekend, did you know this overlap only happens three times every century? How cool is that!! Whether you're observing a holiday or not, it's now time for us to all come together and fantasize about daddy Dutch :)

I would apologise for the wait between this chapter and the last, but I did say this fic would be relatively slow in updates. I wrote a good chuck of this chapter then decided I hated it, took some time away from it, came back, then realised it wasn't as bad as I'd made out in my head lol. It's a pretty fluffy one tbh, and even if it's not as long as the previous one I hope you still enjoy!

It's on ao3, too!

Summary: Your relationship with Dutch deepens when you spend more time with him after a stressful week.

Word count: 6,471

Content warnings: smut, mildly creepy dutch

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Despite everyone’s knowledge of the end of the academic year, not one of your group of friends took the responsibility of arranging the flat for you to all live in together for second year. So, once again, you and Karen were in the same one - with John, Abigail, Sean, and Javier across the hall in theirs. You didn’t mind much; you were all too deep in the habit of leaving your flats unlocked anyway so the others could wander in should they please. It was dumb, but you hadn’t been robbed yet and imagined that’s what it would take for you to change your ways.

Abigail had made extra dinner and you were the first to claim the portion, skipping across the hall and ambling in with a grin on your face. The two of you ate and chatted with the TV filling the background noise. Karen had joined not long after, and the three of you found yourselves sprawled on the sofa, tired from a full day.

Second year was noticeably harder, no more easing you into university life – the theory and assignments were tough. However, thanks to your hard work in the previous semester it wasn’t an impossible leap. It had been for some, Javier regularly coming around in an attempt to inconspicuously copy your coursework.

Just as you were mentally preparing yourself for the next day, the last before the weekend, your phone buzzed.

Naughty girl.

Dutch. You cleared your throat, pausing a moment before opening his message. He hadn’t taken any liberties with his possession of your phone number, and your inbox had been decidedly empty since the last time you saw him.

Was this the old-person way of flirting? Was it sexting? Hopefully, your response would allow room for clarification.

I was just in my photo gallery.

Oh. You smiled to yourself. Another message.

I almost dropped my phone.

Sorry, won’t happen again.

It better happen again, miss. I’ve already made good use of it, and now I’m in need of more.

Good god, the thought of him pleasuring himself to a photo of you brought heat all over your neck. “I’m just gonna use your bathroom,” you stood up to excuse yourself, getting no response from your friends.

Once inside, you looked around, knowing full well it was empty and quickly flicked the lock on the door, before pulling your top over your head. Glancing over your reflection in the mirror, you tried to figure out the best angle that’d reveal enough but not too much.

Eventually, you got an angle you were happy with, only your jaw in view and your tits on full display. You cropped the photo (including your bottom half was a bit too much, right now at least) when his name appeared in your notification bar again.

Too far?

Bless him, he could see you’d read his message but left him without a response for ten minutes. Without giving yourself time to chicken out, you sent the picture to him.

Sorry, I was distracted.

He read it instantly, and it took a full minute before you could see he was typing. Then the dots disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared again. You smiled to yourself, pulling your top over your head and flushing the toilet for good measure, before venturing back out and returning to the sofa. Dutch finally decided on what to say once you’d made yourself comfy.

Come see me this weekend.

If only. A weekend being fucked repeatedly was just what you needed, exhaustion already settling into your mind thanks to your busy schedule being back in action. Unfortunately, said schedule was exactly why you couldn’t.

Can’t, sorry. I’m working tomorrow and Saturday.

Fuck work. I’ll pay you.

“What are you smiling at?”

You glanced up, Karen looking at you inquisitively, Abigail taking her attention off the TV in turn to see what the fuss was.

“Nothing?” you said casually.

“You’ve been grinning at that phone of yours for five minutes.”

“I have not been grinning.”

She raised a brow, the look on her face turning to intrigue.

“Please tell me it’s a guy. Or a girl. Or anything with a pulse,” Abigail pleaded, and you tutted while Karen cackled.

“I’ve told you I don’t have time for that crap! Besides, I’m perfectly fine as I am,” you said defensively, folding your arms and ignoring the buzz of a message on your phone.

“We all need a good screw now and again,” Karen said plainly, Abigail nodding in agreement.

Don’t we just. “Oh, and Maquire is providing that service well enough for you, is he?”

She shot you a glare, and as she was about to retort the main door opened, the man himself trailed by Javier and John.

“Yeah, alright,” John said, his phone held up against his ear while he set the bag of shopping on the counter.

“Hello ladies,” Javier greeted you all, beginning to put away their communal shop which was pathetically void of nutrients and taken up mostly by cans of beer.

Sean pulled off his boots, hopping a little before it gave and sighing proudly when it did. “Any of you want a drink?”

You shook your head, as did Abigail, but Karen held her hand out.

“Ah, that’s why I love ya,” he grinned, handing a can out to Karen who scoffed in disgust before snatching it from him.

“Okay, fine, yeah. I can do that. See you later,” John said, hanging up his call and letting his phone drop into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Abigail asked while John played tetris stacking the beers in the fridge.

“Yeah, just my dad. He’s coming down this weekend.”

That got your attention. Surely not -

“Says Tilly’s been angling to see the city. He was just checking I was free to spend time with them.”

“Aw,” Abigail sat up, “will we get to see them?”

John shrugged, and your phone buzzed again.

I’m serious. read Dutch’s previous message to you, followed by his most recent one: Looking forward to seeing you.

You neglected to respond just yet, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. That man worked fast.

“Where are you gonna take them?”

“God knows. Knowing Dad,” John sat down beside Abigail, “he’ll have already drafted up a full itinerary.”

You smirked at the thought, a warmth growing in your chest.

Dutch was fond of John’s friends. They were a decent bunch, and he’d been glad to see their familiar faces when he and Tilly arrived in the city the next morning, dropping their bags at the hotel before coming to visit John’s flat. He reminded himself repeatedly not to comment on the lack of cleanliness students seemed to thrive in.

It was nice to see John, along with Javier who he’d watched grow up with his son. Abigail was extra friendly, and thanks to a little birdie he understood why. She was a nice girl. They were all nice. But the one he wanted to see the most was unfortunately yet to descend on the flat despite John’s assurance that everyone swings round all the time.

“I’m going out for a cigarette,” Dutch announced, departing the flat and being met with the doorway to yours opposite him. He tried his luck, finding it unlocked, and mentally chastised you for being careless. He wasn’t sure which room was yours, though he thought it a good enough excuse to have wandered into the wrong flat should anyone ask. Two of the doors were ajar, and after a peek, he found them empty. The flat was quiet, and he decided there was no harm in trying the closed ones. He knocked on the next door, getting no response and so pushing it open.

Dutch smiled to himself as the air entered his nose; it smelled just like you.

Thanks to the strange layout, he could see the end of your bed and a slight bump under the duvet where your feet lay. “Tut tut,” he hummed as he took a couple of steps in, “you really should keep it locked – oh.”

His brows pulled together as his voice died in his mouth at the sight of you fast asleep and bundled up in your bed, completely flat out. He debated waking you but was distracted by seeing the inside of your room for the first time. A little nosy never hurt anybody.

Hands in his pockets, he observed the pictures up on your wall and smiled fondly at the ones including his drunken son. Then, he glanced over the perfume bottles lined up near your small desk mirror, then to the books and paper laid out beside your laptop accompanied by an empty mug from the previous day. It was then that he turned his attention back to you, hair ruffled with one arm out of the covers.

Dutch sat on the edge of your bed and brushed a strand of hair from your peaceful face. It was enough to make you stir, and you cranked your eyes open. He smirked as he observed your expression, going from alarmed to relaxed when you realised it was him, then back to alarmed when you realised it was him.

“You really should lock your flat, and your door,” he greeted.

You rubbed your eyes, wondering if the man had come to visit you in a dream though it felt undeniably real as you remembered your conversation with John the previous day. “Or perhaps,” you said around a yawn, “strange men shouldn’t let themselves in and sit on my bed.”

“Strange men?” Dutch looked mildly offended. “I’d hate to know what you do with familiar men.”

“Very funny,” you grumbled, pulling the covers up to your neck. “What time is it?”

“Ten thirty. I didn’t think you were one to sleep in late.” His hand rested on your lower leg, and the added pressure was soothing and lessened your motivation further for starting your day.

“I’m not. But I’ve got a long day today, so I’m treating myself,” you shut your eyes and felt Dutch shift his weight on the bed. You felt his warmth over you before you felt the kiss he pressed to your cheek, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of it. It awoke other unsavoury sensations that you usually repressed in the morning.

It was as though he sensed it, brushing his hand up your leg and moving to kiss your jaw, an added tenderness compared to its predecessor. You sighed contently, the comfort of Dutch’s soft chuckle reaching your ears. There was no option but to give in, your eyes fluttering open as you shifted onto your back, allowing Dutch to manoeuvre himself on top of you. His face filled with pride, but when he moved in to kiss you, you put your hand up as a barricade.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you explained, and he huffed a laugh.

“I could care less. But, if you insist,” his hand travelled further up the path of your body, cupping your breast as his lips tended to your neck instead, which you bared for him gladly.

“Was it really worth coming all this way?” you asked, lazily watching him trail his lips around your skin.

“Of course,” he said, hardly breaking his path, “need I remind you of my lack of interest in desiring a thing. I prefer -”

“- to have it, right.” Dutch smiled up at you, and the tardy realisation hit you that you were now finishing his sentences. “How was the drive up?” you asked quickly, hoping to alleviate any teasing forming in his mind.

“Just swell,” he answered, trailing his hand underneath your pyjama top to knead your breasts. His fingers moved gently in circles, testing your tenderness as they neared your nipple and lightly tweaking the now erect buds. Then his mouth came down over the fabric, and he sucked one into his mouth, leaving a wet patch behind that he eyed fondly once he was done.

“You know,” you set up on your elbows, craning your neck to look at the door, “I really should lock my door. Just in case.”

Dutch placed his palm on your chest, applying pressure until you lay back down. “No no, you want to leave it unlocked, then you leave it unlocked.”

“I’m serious,” you attempted to sit up again but damn he was strong, “John lets himself in all the time.”

“Does he,” Dutch hummed, moving his head down to suck your nipple in again and released, “I ought to teach the boy some manners.”

“Dutch, it’s not funny. Let me lock the -”

As you tried to sit up Dutch applied his full weight onto you and mouthed at your neck while all the air was knocked from your lungs. Strong and heavy. It would be a comfort if you could only breathe, and grumbled incoherently at your body’s response to being trapped by him despite the danger of the situation.

“Now,” Dutch cooed, lifting his head and running his thumb along your chin, “don’t you worry. I’ve been fit to burst since you sent me those pictures.”

“I thought you -”

“I did, but it’s not the same.” With that, he eased off slightly as you gradually accepted this was a risk you’d just have to take, and wrapped his hand around your inner thigh to shift your legs apart. “Huh, looks like I’m not the only one.”

You frowned down to observe what he was looking at and were met with the moist material of your pyjama shorts. “Goddamnit.”

Dutch chuckled while he trailed his fingers up and down your mound, and it wasn’t long before you were grinding up in time with his movements. He always seemed to know the exact pressure and pace you wanted, and often reigned it back some so as to keep you frustrated. You were about to ask him to get on with it, considering the risk and limited time you had before your day started, when he removed his hand to undo his jeans and pull out his frustrated-looking cock. The man didn’t even look at you, nor give you any warning, before moving your shorts to the side and sliding right in. And curse your body once again, allowing him the smoothest of passages.

A sigh of relief left him, the sort one would make when sinking into a hot bath. He stayed there a moment, nosing at your neck and brushing his palm down your flank to your shorts, the fabric of which he bunched up in his hand. At least you weren’t wearing any underwear he would inevitably steal.

“How could this not be worth the journey,” he mused, and you realised he was in fact talking to himself. Still, you sighed out a laugh.

Dutch moved his torso off yours, straightening up to grab your outer thighs in each hand. His grip was tight, bruising almost, and he held you right where he wanted you as he pulled out and began thrusting in a slow, deep rhythm. His head tipped back, and you stayed watching him, the euphoric pleasure seeping over his face enough to keep you lubricated down below. It truly was nice to know you were the cause of such a response. Well, your body, at least.

“Now,” his heavy gaze met yours, and he leaned forward to plant one hand on your headboard and left the other gripping your hip, “let’s get to it, shall we?”

There was no room to answer before he deepened his thrusts, his thick cock thoroughly filling you. He was perfectly anchored to the bed and you, and being leant forward slightly enabled him to brush over the plush, pulsating spot inside you repeatedly. Swiftly building up your impending orgasm, you thanked your accommodation for not giving you squeaky beds despite their questionable quality.

Dutch’s grunts sounded at the same time as his thrusts, his lips pressed together to limit any other noise and you did the same, quiet gasps leaving you on occasion. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he asked through a laboured breath.

“Mhm,” you answered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him further in and it was the last bit of motivation he needed to fuck you into your mattress until silently you came, back arching and hands gripping the duvet beneath. Dutch continued to fuck into you while your orgasm ebbed away, and you bore through the over-stimulation until he pressed his hips as far forward as he could, filling you up as you felt his cock twitch inside you.

Your breath evened out while he dropped his head forward to run a hand through his hair. “My memory did not do you justice.”

“That right?” you tilted your head in amusement and he hummed his agreement while slowly pulling out and doing a poor job of catching his spend. Guess you’d be changing your sheets today.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked and you gestured to the door to your ensuite in agreement. While he was there, you pulled some wipes out from your side table and cleaned yourself up.

“What have you got planned for today?” you asked as he ventured back in, doing up the fasten of his belt.

“Probably get some food, walk around and see what we can find,” he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, gesturing to your fire alarm that was tactically covered by a sock. “You really are a naughty girl.”

You snorted a laugh and sat up, while he leaned on your desk and cracked your window open to blow the smoke out. “Are they not going to wonder where you are now?”

“I told them I was going for a cigarette.”

“Huh, smart.”

He raised his brows in agreement as he took another drag. “What time are you working until today?”

“Late,” you shrugged. “I’m on until close.”

Dutch tutted. “Well, my hotel isn’t far from your work, so you may as well stay with me. I’ll wait up.”

“I don’t recall telling you where I worked.”

He smirked, tapping the ash out the window. “You didn’t.”

“Then how -”

“I have my ways. I can be rather resourceful when I want to be.”

“No shit,” you scoffed, ignoring the slight creepiness of him having that knowledge. “But no, thank you, I’ll be too tired.”

“The hotel bed is very comfortable.”

“I said no. Besides, you have Tilly with you,” you said, Dutch shifting his position to be half-seated on your desk.

“She has her own room.” After a final drag, he stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it out your window. He walked over and sat on your bed again, taking your hand in his. “Just consider it?”

“Fine,” you acquiesced, “I will see how I feel after my shift.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, a pleased smile forming on his face and moved in to kiss your cheek before standing. “Be sure to say bye before you head off.”

“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, and with that, he departed, and the urge to shower became urgent.

You had ten minutes to spare after getting washed and dressed, and couldn’t find anything to busy yourself with so you ended up visiting John’s flat after all. Your friends were all there when you entered, Tilly offered you a hug, and Mr Van der Linde greeted you casually when you entered the flat, like he hadn’t been pounding into you less than an hour ago.

“Here she is,” John smiled, “you feeling better?”

Dutch’s expression hardened so fast you could feel it, and you grumbled internally at John once again unintentionally putting his foot in it. “Yeah, fine,” you said quickly, “just needed some sleep.”

“Perhaps you should skip some lectures and catch up some more,” John teased.

“You’re actually going?” Javier scoffed from the sofa, taking his attention away from Tilly’s phone where she appeared to be showing him a video.

“You know I have to,” you deflected, walking over to sit on the arm of the sofa beside him.

“Eighty percent, you can stand to miss a few.”

With a playful tilt of your head, you raised your brows accusingly. “Not worth getting into the habit.”

“Get me a copy of the notes?” he asked sweetly, smiling up at you and taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. As always, you could never resist, nodding your understanding with a smirk. “Ah, Mr Van der Linde -” Javier’s expression dropped as he look at the man in question, “don’t tell my pa, okay?”

Before he could respond, Sean decided to get a word in. “My da doesn’t mind me not going, says it’s better I don’t get my head filled by those pompous academic types. N-no offence, Mr Van der Linde,” he held his arms up placatingly.

“Now, why would I be offended by that?” he asked, genuinely, though Sean visibly began to sweat.

“No reason! No reason at all -”

“And on that note,” you cleared your throat, deciding to save Sean before he inevitably fell further into his self-made hole. “I should get going. Nice to see you both again,” you said, mainly to Tilly, and hoped Dutch’s devious expression in response wasn’t as noticeable to anyone else.

If another person asked you to make a cocktail, you’d scream. It’s a Friday, do these people not know how filled to the brim with students this place was? You weren’t even sure why you offered cocktails at this stupid hour; everyone was too inebriated to even appreciate it, and who needs to spend extra on a drink when they’re out to get as plastered as they can, anyway? Just order a shot and be done with it -

“Whiskey old-fashioned, please.”

You turned, half-ready to lose your job for punching a patron and were met with a smiling Dutch on the other side of the bar.

“Seriously?” you gestured around yourself, both as to why he’d ordered that and why he was there in the first place.

“Why not?”

“It’s busy,” you grumbled, making an exasperated show of preparing the glass.

“Fine,” he chuckled, “just a double on ice will do.”

You offered him a grateful smile, scooping a few ice cubes out of the tray.

“Do you always speak to customers that way?”

“Only the annoying ones,” you shrugged.

“I’m in half a mind to tell your manager,” he raised his brows, leaning on the bar in a way that enhanced his arms as his burgundy shirt stretched around them.

“Do that and I’ll ask you for ID. You forget I also have the power to withhold... other things,” you slid the drink over to him, and as you were about to announce the total, he handed you a twenty. “It doesn’t cost that much.”

“It’s a tip.”

“No,” you lamented, refusing to be his charity case, “it all goes in a pot anyway.”

“Consider it an apology for my being a difficult customer,” he answered immediately. “And as a sweetener, so you don’t withhold your oh so generous offerings.”

You tutted and placed the change to sit stubbornly in front of him on the bar. “I -” your attention was pulled to someone new coming up to the bar, “hold on a second.”

After pouring out two vodka cokes for them, you returned to Dutch. “Where’s John and Tilly?”

“John’s back at his flat, I think, and Tilly’s sleeping at the hotel,” he sipped at his drink, and you smirked as he tried to hide that this whiskey was not as fancy as his palate was used to.

“Will Tilly be alright on her own?” you asked.

“Of course. I plan to return soon anyway; I just need to pick something up first.”

“What do you need to – oh,” you realised what – or rather who – he was referring to. “I haven’t agreed to come back with you. Besides, I’m still working.”

“When do you usually finish?”

“When everyone leaves,” you narrowed your gaze at him accusingly.

“Ah,” he hummed in amusement. “It appears to be quietening down.”

He was right. The crowd was certainly beginning to thin out, and you hoped that in true student fashion, they would all leave to go somewhere busier once they noticed. “I still haven’t agreed.”

Dutch’s response was the inching of his fingers closing to yours, brushing them over your own secretively. “I would really like you to.”

“I’m really, really tired, Dutch.”

“That’s fine, you can go straight to sleep,” at the raise of your brows, he continued with a smile that inched on his face, “I mean it.”

“I could be a while,” you excused yourself further.

He finished the last of his drink, pausing a beat before finishing it. “Just text me when you’re done. Otherwise, I’ll stay here until everyone else has left.”

“Okay, alright,” you rubbed your brow, supposing it couldn’t be too bad if you did just go there to sleep. By now, your trust in him had grown to the point where you believed he would’ve put all the measures in place to ensure the two of you weren’t caught. “I’ll text you.”

“Good,” he said, pleased, and stood. “I’ll be going now, then.”

“You mean you don’t want another one of those?” you pointed to his empty glass.

He gave you an almost weary look, and a laugh slipped from you.

“I’m only kidding.”

He shook his head, and for the briefest of moments your heart skipped as you saw his rare, genuine smile.

“See you later,” you concluded the conversation.

Dutch folded his jacket over the arm and offered you a secretive wink. “I look forward to it.”

It was another hour before the bar closed, and you swiftly grabbed your bag from the back room, pulling your phone out to message Dutch at the earliest opportunity.

You opted for waiting outside, a small way down the street in case any of your colleagues caught you swanning off with an older man who’d visited the bar. He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“That was sooner than I expected,” he greeted you, and on the short walk to the hotel, you answered his questions about how your shift went.

“This is an expensive hotel,” you slowed on the approach, and Dutch rested his hand comfortably on your lower back. Somehow, you always seemed to forget just how rich he was.

“You think they won’t let you in?” he teased, and you nodded genuinely. “Relax, darling.”

That worked. Your body softened involuntarily, and walking in with him felt natural, easy. What you’d expected otherwise you weren’t sure, still hyper-aware of how you must look to a passer-by at this moment. Or perhaps they didn’t care. Dutch certainly didn’t.

The two of you took the lift, walking down the well-decorated hallway until Dutch stopped and swiped his card on a door. You let out a breath once inside, kicking off your shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed without a second thought.

“You and Javier seem to have an interesting relationship,” he commented, untying his shiny black shoes and placing them neatly by the door.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked defensively.

Dutch shrugged casually, clearly a façade. “You seem close. I wondered if there was anything there.”

You scowled at him, too tired for this line of questioning. “Obviously not -” you paused, remembering yourself despite your newfound anger. “Well, we might’ve had a drunken kiss on our first week, but it didn’t progress beyond that.”

“Hm. I thought as much.”

“What is wrong with you?” you said sharply, “why would you ask that?”

“I was only curious,” he held his hands up before unbuttoning his shirt. “I didn’t realise it was a crime to ask.”

“It’s not. You’ve no right to be jealous.”

“Who said I was?” he asked, leaning into a chuckle and it only aggravated you even more.

You huffed out some of your anger. “It’s pretty obvious. I’m not stupid. And you’re not as good at hiding things as you think.”

His face altered from unbothered to mildly entertained. “I don’t see why you’re getting so defensive. It was only a question.”

Your mouth opened to let a retort pass through, but none came. The fucker wasn’t wrong, he had only asked. In your exhausted state, you questioned whether you’d read too much into it, and frowned at the ground while rubbing the stress from your brow. Keeping so much contained was a problem in times like this, when emotions escaped out into the world. “I don’t - I just -” you began, feeling yourself getting worked up.

“Okay, alright, darling. Come here,” Dutch sat beside you, opening his arms and you tucked yourself into the warm embrace.

“Sorry,” you sighed quietly, “this is why I didn’t want to come. I get grouchy when I’m tired.”

“I can tell,” he teased, but the kiss placed on the crown of your head balanced it out. “You’ve been sick, John said?”

“Not sick. Just tired this week, that’s all.”

Dutch paused, tightening his arms around you. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to have any time to rest in the near future.”

“I’ll take a weekend off work at something,” you mumbled, almost on autopilot as it wasn’t the first time you’d been berated for being too much of a try-hard.

“Why do I get the impression you’re lying?” he asked gently, and your responding laugh was mirthless. “I like most things about you, except this.”

“Except what?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder to catch his eyes.

“This incessant need you have to work yourself to fatigue. It’s unhealthy.”

“It’s temporary,” you insisted.

“If you would only let me -”

“Don’t you dare offer me money again.” That was a place you’d never go to, a sense of pride far too strong to accept his help. You could do it. You just... need to complain occasionally. And maybe have someone that could help alleviate the stress using tried and true methods. “Wait, you said most. What else don’t you like about me?”

He paused, as though he hadn’t expected that question. “I suppose how little time I get to spend with you.”

“That’s a cop-out.”

Dutch laughed, releasing you from his embrace and standing to continue getting undressed. A feeling resembling awe settled in your body at how proudly he stood, in only his underwear, while finding a pair of joggers to wear for bed. He hooked his thumbs into the band of his pants but paused, slyly looking over his shoulder at you. You swiftly averted your gaze.

“You’re allowed to look, I don’t mind,” he said with amusement, and you only looked back once you’d heard his underwear come off and joggers come on. You were far too tired to go another round, but you feared your body would decide otherwise if you caught a glance of him fully nude. “Here,” he passed a plain t-shirt to you, “I suspect you don’t have anything to wear.” After you took it, his face fell slightly. “Not that I mind you sleeping with nothing on.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, for whatever reason wanting to get dressed where he couldn’t see. “Does the hotel have spare toothbrushes?”

“Sure, in the bathroom,” he pulled back the cover of the bed and got in, clasping his hands over his stomach. “Help yourself to whatever.”

You did, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and changing into Dutch’s t-shirt. It was clean, but it still held his underlying scent. He was in the same position when you re-entered the bedroom and lifted the covers for you to get in. “Thanks,” you said, laying down and marvelling at how soft the bed was, a yawn escaping thanks to your newfound comfort.

Dutch reached over and flicked the switches above the side table, turning off all the lights except the lamp next to him. Then, he brushed the back of his knuckle tenderly over your temple, and it took all you had to fight an immediate descent into sleep. You took the opportunity to shuffle closer to him, and he extended his arm so you could lay on his chest while he was propped up a little against the headboard. “Get some sleep, now,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble in the low light of the room.

As you melted into him some more, the bare skin of his chest warm and soothing, he put on his glasses from the bedside table and picked up his book. “Aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ll sleep better if I read a little first. Don’t mind me, though.”

“Okay.” You pecked his lips, and once you were re-settled on his chest sleep came easier than ever.

The gentle motion of fingertips slowly grazing the middle of your back was the first sensation to greet you upon awakening, and you blinked your eyes open to the hazy filter of morning sun through the window. You were nestled comfortably into Dutch, still using his chest as a pillow and glanced up, finding the man himself in somewhat of a daydream as he looked out the window. He noticed the small movement, though, and offered you a warm smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you half-yawned, stubbornly closing your eyes to nestle further into his chest. How he was more comfortable than the bed itself you weren’t sure.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Like a log. You?”

“Just fine. You’re nice to wake up to.” He placed his palm flat on your back, holding you to him.

“You aren’t so bad yourself. What time are you seeing John today?”

“I think we’re going for a late breakfast; I suppose whenever he’s ready. We have a bit of time, if you want anything brought up to the room?”

“No, no, I’m okay. Thanks though. Actually,” you shifted up onto your elbow, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and internally deciding you preferred Dutch’s hair in the morning, a little messy from the night. “I wouldn’t mind using that shower.”

“Be my guest,” he said politely. It was nice to lay like this with him, you’d expected him to have his hands all over you as soon as you’d awoken, though perhaps he was tired. If anything, he was more reserved than usual, and you hoped he wasn’t beginning to have second thoughts. You knew better than to question him first thing in the morning and moved to a seated position before swinging your legs off the bed.

“Appreciate it.” You picked your clothes up from their crumpled heap on the floor and carried them into the bathroom with you before having the most glorious shower you’d had in some time.

Checking your phone once you were finished, you realised you’d been in the bathroom for a full thirty minutes. Whoops.

“Sorry,” you said as soon as you opened the door, Dutch seated on the bed, now dressed and rolling up his sleeves. “That shower was a little too nice.”

The smile Dutch offered you was warmer, more awake, and more like himself than he had been previously. “Good,” he offered out his hand which you promptly took and pulled you towards him to stand between his legs, and he wrapped his arms around your lower back. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”

You chuckled easily, glad to find out nothing was wrong, and he simply hadn’t woken up yet.

“What time are you working?” he asked, while you ran a hand through his hair and settled it on his shoulder.

“Early afternoon. I’m off tomorrow, but I’ve got work to do – what time are you leaving?”

“About midday. Don’t worry about it,” he placed a kiss on your sternum, “I’d prefer it if you rested instead.”

“I’ll try,” you nodded with a snort.

“I would like,” he stood up, holding your hands in his, “to see you more frequently, if possible.”

“I’d like that,” you looked up at him, and the deal was sealed with a kiss. “I’m not sure exactly when, but -”

“We’ll work something out. I have your number,” he said conspiratorially, an alluring half-smile making him even more irresistible than he already was. “But I fear Tilly will be up soon, I don’t want her catching you on the way out.”

“Good call,” you agreed, breaking out of the embrace to pick up your bag and double-check you hadn’t forgotten anything. “Have a good weekend.”

“We will,” he pulled you in for a kiss, one that was tender and slow and left you a little breathless once you’d parted your lips from his. “Thanks for coming to stay with me.”

“I’ve got to do my part for the community,” you shrugged, and his face dropped into playful annoyance.

“Oh, that’s how it is?”

You laughed, edging towards the door though he managed to pat your ass in reprimand before you were out of reach. “I might add this to my volunteering work on my CV, come to think of it.”

Dutch laughed heartily, pressing his tongue into his cheek and shaking his head. “You truly can be a wicked woman.”

With a proud, final smile, you stepped forward for a kiss goodbye then opened the door, checking the coast was clear before stepping out. At the risk of Tilly hearing you, you offered Dutch a simple nod before departing, which he returned.

It wasn’t a short walk back to your accommodation, but it wasn’t long, either. The weather was good, and you were thankful it’d been nice for Dutch and Tilly’s visit up. It wasn’t lost on you that there was a slight spring in your step, every meeting with Dutch making your heart feel that extra bit lighter, and life feel an extra bit more accommodating. After last time, you’d attributed it to the sex, to the rush and release that was a rarity in your everyday. But perhaps it was him, and while this newfound feeling was a nice one to experience, the low hum of guilt and the prospect of where this avenue of exploration would lead you left a slightly bitter taste in your mouth.

There was a possibility that Dutch’s philosophical suggestions were imprinting on you, but you actively decided not to dwell on the many possibilities and instead focus on that, for now, you had something that made your chest grow warm and your breath seep from your lungs. Perhaps this was what you were missing, a way to dispel your worries and fears even for a short while. And perhaps, on some level, this was something you deserved.

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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mysmorgasbordoffantabulosa · 1 month

Note

Some questions. I’m not an anti, but a Taekooker who’s just trying to add things up…

- 2019 Taekook confuses me. Everything seems fine in non-company content, but then Taehyung goes on vacation with Wooga. Do you ever think the tattoo artist thing was JK acting out in retaliation for Taehyung choosing to spend time with Wooga? I saw some speculating that Jungkook and Taehyung spent time on that vacation together, but that doesn’t seem to add up to the way Jungkook was intently listening to Taehyung in the van during the first ep of BV 4. I know the speculation about the Jungkook stuff being to cover other stuff - and feel that Jungkook was being authentic during his final BV 4 interview when he said that he won’t let ARMY down, but let’s be honest he has to hide everything in his life, including his real personality and relationships. You’ve speculated that Taekook could have an open relationship-while I think that would be very tricky and they seem so enmeshed and possessive-part of me still wonders if they do. I am honestly not trying to make Jungkook look bad or make others question Taekook. I just can’t wrap my head around this.

- Thinking of the future, Taehyung and JK will get even more famous. I think it will be harder, not easier for them to be seen spending time together in public. Taehyung posted himself in Itaewon this weekend - where Jungkook is building his house, which I find intriguing. I’m not sure a landmark mansion like that in that part of Seoul lends itself to more privacy for their comings and goings. While I do think they’ll always be in a glass closet, I also feel they’ll have less to lose after military service so maybe they could be more free. I honestly hope they have other property together someplace where they can be themselves and have some anonymity.

- I’ve thought long and hard about what Jungkook and Taehyung have said about their lives and what they wanted when they were slightly younger. Jungkook has always been pretty clear about living alone. He says it during one of their photoshoots where he also says he’s going to have white curtains just like the ones in the studio they are taking pictures at in his apartment. Taehyung has alluded to “his son” many times. He’s not talking about Tannie because he said he was Yeontan’s father but became his brother when Yeontan went to live with his parents due to his schedule. Anyway, adopting as a single man is impossible in SK or from Japan….I remember the Japanese orphanage Taehyung visited. If he does want children with Kookie they will most likely need to figure that out in another country.

Anyway, seriously, I read your blog and hope you answer these questions in the spirit I’ve asked them. Again, not an anti, but someone who’s invested in Taekook and trying to think logically and critically about the questions I have. Thanks.

Hi there,

I'll try to help as best I can...

"Do you ever think the tattoo artist thing was JK acting out in retaliation for Taehyung choosing to spend time with Wooga?"

No, I think in 2019 Tae was dealing with a lot of stuff (possible depression and exhustion from the Love Yourself tour) and the time off was used to help reset that so spending time with friends was part of dealing with that.

"Jungkook and Taehyung spent time on that vacation together"

You have to remember, Tae's parents live/have a home in Geoje Island (the place JK was alleged to be caught with that tattooist), and Busan (where JK's parents live) is literally next to the island. It's not a stretch to assume that JK and Tae might have spent time there before Tae went to Jeju with Wooga.

"... doesn’t seem to add up to the way Jungkook was intently listening to Taehyung in the van during the first ep of BV 4."

Perhaps he simply wanted to know what and how much Tae would say.

"I know the speculation about the Jungkook stuff being to cover other stuff - and feel that Jungkook was being authentic during his final BV 4 interview when he said that he won’t let ARMY down"

I think a lot of that was the tattoos rather than the dating scandal, considering how quickly BH shot down the rumour

"You’ve speculated that Taekook could have an open relationship"

Never said that but think, if it were the case, it's no big deal.

"Taehyung and JK will get even more famous. I think it will be harder, not easier for them to be seen spending time together in public."

Janet Jackson (at the height of her fame) was able to high her marriage for 8 years. Similarly, Jodie foster was able to keep her relationship secret for several years. Point is celebrities, if they truly want to, will be able to find a way to keep things secret from the public. I feel, there are some older celebs (particularly still active Gen 2) out their that have been in long term relationships.

"Taehyung posted himself in Itaewon this weekend - where Jungkook is building his house, which I find intriguing. I’m not sure a landmark mansion like that in that part of Seoul lends itself to more privacy for their comings and goings."

The things to remember about Itaewon is who already lives there…

Most Chaebols, Foriegn diplomats and businessmen, and some of the most high profile Korean celebs, politicians who wish to remain private in their personal lives.

People who choose to live in Itaewon do so because it has some the highest security in Seoul and the ability to keep their private lives extremely private. Yes, you can walk round the streets of Itaewon, but literally on every major intersection are security stations. JK's house is next to two foreign Ambassador residences and a Chaebol. I think JK's privacy will be greater there than his current house.

"Jungkook has always been pretty clear about living alone."

Well he's a typical introvert, so yeah.

"Taehyung has alluded to “his son” many times… adopting as a single man is impossible in SK or from Japan….I remember the Japanese orphanage Taehyung visited. If he does want children with Kookie they will most likely need to figure that out in another country."

Well, since 2022, single people have the right to adopt so long as they meet certain requirements, and in the eyes of SK law Tae and JK are single people, so I think anything is possible.

I hope this helps.

#my asks #Anonymous #taekook #vkook #kookv #tae #JK #jungkook #jeon jungkook #taehyung #kim taehyung #v

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 8 months

Text

I Wanna Believe (that we're a masterpiece)

Pairing: Carol Danvers/Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha seems to be unable to take care of herself, so Carol decides she will the one to do that

Disclaimer: English is not my first language

Read on AO3

The first time it happens, Carol had a small smile on her face while one of her hands held a piece of cloth to Natasha's shoulder, using the other hand to apply pressure from the other side. Natasha hadn't been shot, but one of the guys they were fighting against had pushed her through a window and, well, she got a small little cut.

"It's not small," Clint had argued after everyone joined the group when the fight was over. "It's pretty nasty, actually."

"I've had worse," was her reply and, well, she wasn’t lying.

Even so, Clint insisted that she put something to stop the bleeding and Steve had betrayed her when he said she looked a bit pale, and that's how Natasha found herself sitting at the back of a van while the team got back to the compound. Clint was driving and, usually, they would be the only ones there because everyone else could quite literally fly around, but Captain Marvel said she would ride with them to make sure Natasha would actually take care of her injury.

The redhead spent the first minute or two just staring at the other woman, wondering why she was there - not just the van, but Earth as well since she wasn’t known for spending too much time on her home planet before leaving again - but her resolve faltered when Clint's reckless driving made an appearance, making her jump when the car hit a hole. She hissed in pain and that's when Carol came forward to take a look at her shoulder. She had to slap Natasha's hand away, though with an amused grin, before deciding she was more fitting to the job of holding the cloth in place.

"It's not half as bad as you're all making it seem," Natasha complained after a moment, although her voice didn’t have the bite to it that she was aiming for.

Carol looked up, all bright brown eyes and a lopsided smile, and her hot breath hit the side of Natasha's face without her noticing it. The Russian woman did, though, and she had to make a conscious effort to keep her eyes locked into brown ones.

"Yes, we all know you will survive," Carol teased her. "But I also guess you don't have blood bags spreading around to use if you keep bleeding like this."

"I'm not bleeding that much," Natasha mumbled, only slightly irritated.

"Well, you're welcome."

Carol shrugged so nonchalantly that Natasha couldn’t do anything else other than laugh at the gesture. The blonde seemed content with the reaction she got and her eyes shined like the stars that the woman flew by every day in space. Her smile also widened and she looked smug for a second before Clint hit another hole, making them both jump.

"Guess you're right," Carol said, "you're in more danger of dying in a car crash in the next few minutes than from this wound."

Natasha didn’t reply, mostly because she knew she should actually fear for her life there. That's why she didn’t let Clint drive.

[...]

Alcohol, cotton and antiseptic were involved the second time. They were safe from Clint's driving, but Carol had followed Natasha to the bathroom when their post-fight meeting at the compound ended. They had won, once again, however not without throwing a few punches and being at the other end as well. Carol frowned when she saw Natasha entering the room with Captain America by her side, one side of her face already turning a sickening shade of yellow and purple. Her bottom lip was split, swollen as well, as half of her face was, but the woman didn’t seem even a little disturbed by that.

She endured all the talk, the jokes the boys liked to throw around, and then even helped Tony to set a few things on a computer before she walked out to the hall. That's when Carol followed her, making sure she would do something with her injuries. Natasha entered the hallway bathroom seconds later and, before she could close the door behind her, Carol stepped inside behind her.

"The hell?!"

"Let me take a look at it," Carol said before the redhead could actually start screaming at her.

Natasha, on the other hand, only scoffed as if the idea was too ridiculous to be considered. "It's just a bruise. It will heal just fine."

"Your lip is bleeding," the other woman pointed out without trying to hide her worry.

"Yes, that's what happens when someone punches you in the face," Natasha dismissed with an eye roll. "I'm sure you know."

"I know it can happen, yes," Carol answered slowly, "although I don't remember the feeling of it. It must be hurting, though."

Natasha didn’t answer her right away as she was expecting though. Carol was kind of waiting for the woman to snap again, but Natasha only looked at her with what seemed to be a curious expression on her face before she rolled her eyes again and turned to open a cabinet. She pulled a first aid kit from there and, making it look to be the hardest thing she ever did in her life, handed it to Carol, who just smiled happily at her. Moments later, the blonde was cleaning the blood from her chin with a wet cotton ball while holding her face with the other hand.

While her eyes focused on the injury, Natasha's eyes paid close attention to the superhero. To the crinkle between her brows while she was concentrating on the task in her hands, to the stray blonde hair falling down her face, to the strong shoulders beneath the red and blue suit, to the hands that were callous but handled her so gently. Natasha had a hard time thinking after that and, before she noticed it, Carol was pulling away from her with a smile.

"There!" She declared happily. "I think putting some ice on it will help with the swelling, so you should do that."

"I'm fine," Natasha said and immediately looked away when she noticed that her voice was just above a whisper. "Thanks."

"No problem. Just try to keep yourself in one piece next time, yes?"

[...]

She did try, Natasha could argue, but she was also working for the craziest team in the world and they deal with a lot of shitty situations.

So, of course, the third time happened not long after the day in the bathroom.

This time, she got a concussion after an explosion that threw her back several feet. She got up to her feet pretty fast and made sure she took down some of the bad guys before she could get too dizzy to do so. Steve made sure the fight was over while Natasha tried to hide the fact that the world around her was spinning, but she wasn’t so lucky when Carol approached her, already putting a hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?"

Her voice sounded distant, so very far away that it was almost like Natasha had her head underwater. The redhead tried to focus on the face in front of her - the worried eyes and the lips pursed in a fine line - but there were suddenly two Carols in front of her and it was hard to keep standing. Even so, she wasn’t about to say that out loud.

"Sure." She tried to push herself away, to put some space between them and to prove she was fine, but her body wobbled before she could get too far and, suddenly both of Carol's hands were holding her arms to keep her standing. "Do you work here now?" Natasha asked, trying to change the subject. "Like… all the time? Thought your office was, like, up space."

"The amount of times you said 'like' is all the answer I need, really," Carol said with just a bit of humor. "You need to sit down."

"No, I'm fine."

Which would've been a lie if she ever managed to finish the sentence, but, just as she opened her mouth, she felt the bile at the back of her throat. Carol noticed the way her face twisted and got a yellowish color, which gave her enough time to get out of the way when Natasha leaned forward and let all the contents of her stomach meet the floor.

"Okay," Carol drew the word slowly while her hand kept touching the back of the other woman, making sure she wouldn’t fall face-first on the floor. "Guess someone needs to lay down."

"I don't," Natasha tried to insist, but it only made Carol roll her eyes.

Natasha wasn't able to notice things around her or register the conversations that followed. If she did, she would have argued when Carol told Bruce that she needed medical assistance and she certainly wouldn’t have agreed when the superhero said it would be safer if Carol took her back to the compound. Natasha wasn't okay though and all she could do was grab Carol's arm to stop her from picking her up from the floor.

"I can walk," Natasha said.

Carol hesitated for a moment, looking at the woman up and down twice to be sure. "I don't think you can."

The redhead scoffed. "Watch me."

She took one step forward and then suddenly the world around her began to spin in a way that almost made her puke again. She didn't. Instead, the spinning came to an end when everything went black as she fell.

Natasha regained her consciousness slowly. She could hear a steady beep from a machine that she knew was measuring her heartbeats, she could feel a very uncomfortable bed she was lying on, she could smell the antiseptic. She knew she was in a hospital bed before she even opened her eyes, although she instantly regretted it when the white light above her made her eyes burn and her head hurt.

"Yeah, not very wise to do it now."

The voice came from her right side and Natasha turned her head to that direction before she could stop herself, glaring at the woman sitting beside her. Carol had her legs crossed on a chair, flipping through a magazine, and looking very mundane wearing some normal clothes for once. Jeans and a band t-shirt that looked old and worn out. Even if her head was hurting and her eyes teared up because of the brightness, Natasha still forced herself to look at Carol because… well, she was there and she was a sight that couldn’t be missed.

The blonde flipped the pages twice more before she stole a glance at Natasha. "Try not to move your head so much. It will make you dizzy."

Natasha tried to speak then, but her mouth felt dry as if there were a dozen cotton balls inside it. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on a single movement to wet her lips, although she knew it was useless. When she opened her eyes again, Carol’s attention had gone back to the magazine and Natasha didn’t have another option other than to look at her profile for a while. Her tense jaws, her frowned brows, the lack of her usual smile.

"You mad," she muttered in her raspy voice that made her throat burn and her lips crack a bit.

It wasn’t a question. She knew Carol was mad. It was pretty obvious. Even so, she saw the other woman sigh and close the magazine with a harsh movement before her hand raised to pinch the bridge of her nose as her eyes closed. It lasted just a short moment, but she seemed tired when she looked at Natasha.

"I should call for the doctor to check on you. I kinda forgot how this hospital thing works."

"Why?" Natasha asked.

"'Cus I can't get hurt, remember?" Was Carol's answer, but she was already at the door by the time she said it and Natasha didn’t have the chance to clarify she was asking why Carol was there.

The doctor entered the room alone a few minutes later, smiling politely, and Natasha had to endure several tests that the man wanted to make. He told her she had been out for only a few hours, mostly due to the sedatives, and that it was normal for her not to remember entering the hospital or anything like it. He also explained she had a bad concussion and a wound at the back of her head that, luckily, didn’t need stitches.

"It was a bad motorcycle accident," he commented after making Natasha follow the light at the end of his pen with her eyes for a while. "But you will be fine."

It only took her a moment to realize that was the cover story Carol had come up with since they couldn’t exactly say Natasha had survived a bomb explosion that some crazy dude used to try to stop the Avengers from getting him. So, a motorcycle accident it is. Well, Natasha was glad that most people would fall for any lie without too much questioning.

"Your wife had been very worried about you."

Natasha's eyes met his face so fast that her head spun again. "What?"

The man, who was writing down a few things on her chart, used his pen to point at the door that Carol left before. "Your wife. She had been pacing around the room and driving our nurses crazy with her questions." He didn't seem angry about it, though. In fact, he had a soft smile when he kept writing. "She was pretty scared when she entered the ER with you, from what they told me. Your head was bleeding pretty badly and she had to carry you with something to try to stop the blood."

"She's not my wife," was all Natasha could say to all of that.

Which, of course, earned her a stare from the man. He considered her words for a second, then he shrugged and started putting the chart back in its place at the foot of her bed. "Well, put a ring on it, then. And try not to do any tricks with a bike again, okay?"

He left and Natasha was only alone for a moment before the door opened again and Carol entered the room. "They want to hold you for the night to make sure you're okay."

"No," Natasha quickly replied.

Carol sighed. "I knew you would say that, so I told them we would like to leave. I suppose they're just doing some paperwork for that now."

Natasha felt her body relax a bit knowing she wouldn’t have to stay there for much longer, although it didn't last long when she noticed that Carol hadn’t moved far from the door yet. "What?"

"I'm not mad," the blonde said eventually. "You got me pretty worried."

"Sorry," Natasha mumbled.

"I asked you to stay in one piece." Natasha arched one eyebrow that said way more than her words ever could. Noticing the gesture, Carol sighed again. "I know you have to fight the bad guys and all, but… that's the third time I had to stop you from bleeding to death."

"I was hardly bleeding the other times," Natasha quickly argued.

"Well, this time you were," Carol interrupted her just as fast, her voice raising without her noticing it. She did once the last word was out and the blonde took a deep breath to regain control over her emotions again. "Just… rest for a while longer until they come to discharge you."

"Why do you care?" Natasha had asked when they were walking out of the hospital almost two hours later. She saw Clint waiting for them at the other side of the parking lot, but she didn’t know what possessed her to ask the question.

"Because I care about you," Carol replied calmly.

"Why?" Natasha pressed.

The blonde turned to face her with such serenity written all over her expression that Natasha couldn’t come up with any reply after what she said. "Is it too hard to believe that I just do?"

Natasha didn’t bother saying that no one else in her life had ever cared.

Somehow, she knew that Carol was aware of that.

[...]

The fourth time was a bit ridiculous, if Natasha was the one to say it.

She was cooking, something that wasn’t normal but also didn’t mean the world was ending.

Well, it could be ending because Tony, Steve and Bruce left a few hours prior to some mission, however, they said no one else needed to go with them. Clint had taken the opportunity to go spend some time with his family, which meant that Natasha would be the only one in the compound for the night. That’s what she thought when she walked to the kitchen to open the fridge and see what they had that could serve as a quick dinner. She was looking at a carton of milk, trying to find out if it had expired already or not, when she noticed someone was approaching her.

“Boo!”

Natasha didn’t even blink when Carol jumped inside the kitchen with her arms raised and a large smile that fitted her joyful little prank very well. The blonde froze for a second when she got no reaction from the other woman, but her smile didn’t falter when she walked closer to Natasha.

“I thought I could succeed with that one,” she commented when she leaned against the counter beside the fridge.

Natasha glanced at her for a second. “I am a trained spy, you know?”

Carol shrugged and reached out to grab an apple from the fruit bowl. “What are you doing?”

“Dinner,” the redhead replied as she watched the superhero bite down at the fruit.

It shouldn’t be a sexual gesture at all, but Natasha had to look away when she realized some dirty thoughts trying to break free. Carol was gorgeous, there was no denying that. Actually, anyone with functional eyes would be able to agree that she was beautiful. She was taller than Natasha, her arms filled her suit very well and she just had this energy on her that was hard to miss. She wasn’t wearing her suit that night, though, choosing a sleeveless tank top and loose sweat pants, with her hair pulled in a ponytail and bare feet touching the floor without a care in the world. The fact is that Carol Danvers was a gorgeous woman and Natasha had eyes, thank you very much, but the biggest problem was that they had been spending more time together since the blonde seemed to decide she would stay on Earth for a while. She wasn’t just gorgeous, Natasha didn’t take too long to notice. Carol was smart, brave, compassionate, charming, sarcastic and fun to be around. She could put up with Natasha’s smart mouth and they spent several nights playing chess or checkers, something that was way more fun than it should be.

It all meant that now Natasha was finding the act of eating an apple way sexier than she should and it bothered her so much that she had to look away and grab something else inside the fridge.

“Oh, sweet!” Carol exclaimed after she chew. “You’re making dinner?”

“Are you hungry?” Natasha asked instead of saying she was planning on eating whatever she found inside the fridge.

“Yeah!”

And that’s how Natasha found herself cutting things at the long-forgotten cutting board that she was sure Pepper put there for them. Carol tried to help at first, but Natasha took the knife from her hand when the woman accidentally cut through the first cutting board. After that, she sat at the counter again, as if the kitchen didn’t have dozens of chairs for her to do it, and chatted with Natasha while the other woman took care of everything.

“What are you going to do?”

“A Russian typical dish,” Natasha answered. “Raw fish with uncooked potatoes.”

Carol blinked. “Uh-”

The shorter woman looked up with a teasing smile. “I’m messing with you.”

“Oh,” Carol breathed out in relief, putting her hand against her chest when a laugh escaped her lips. “Wow, for a second I thought you were trying to kill me.”

Natasha shook her head in amusement and returned to her task of chopping some parsley. “I’m sure you ate worse things during your trips.”

“Well, yes, but I have high hopes here,” the superhero joked. “So, really, what are you cooking?”

“Golubtsi,” Natasha replied in perfect Russian to someone that didn’t even have an accent. “It is typical from Russia, actually. I think you might like it, but I will warn you that I haven’t cooked this dish for a very long time.”

“I’m sure it will taste great,” Carol said with a soft smile as she watched the woman.

“You made me curious,” Natasha changed the subject suddenly. “What’s the worse thing you ever ate?”

Carol thought about it for a moment, tapping her chin with a finger, before she looked back at Natasha with a grimace. “Not the worse, but the weirdest. Tentacles.”

The redhead arched one eyebrow at her. “Tentacles?” She repeated, receiving a nod in confirmation. “Of what?”

“To this day, I have no idea.” Carol’s face contorted in disgust and a visible shiver ran down her body, which made Natasha laugh lowly. “And I think it’s better if I never find out.”

“Poor Space Cadet,” Natasha teased as she moved to put the parsley inside a bowl so she could cut the onion.

“Space Cadet,” Carol scoffed even if she smiled widely at the stupid nickname.

Natasha only smiled to herself and moved to grab the onion, however, she stopped herself when she saw the jar of olives she took from one of the cabinets. She forgot about it before because her plans included eating the olives while she cooked, so she decided to open it now. Natasha used a cloth to dry her hands and then tried to spin the metal lid to open it, but it didn’t move even slightly. She knew she could open it, really, but her eyes caught Carol just sitting there kicking her legs like a small child and it was an easy decision. The redhead walked closer to the superhero and held the jar in front of her.

“I know I can use warm water to lose the lid and open it, but you’re here and I think you can be a perfect jar opener,” Natasha said before she gestured with the jar when Carol didn’t move to grab it.

The blonde then took it from her hand with an eye roll and had no problem opening the jar with a single movement that didn’t even make her muscles tense. She handed it back to Natasha, who was now smiling gladly at the open jar, and crossed her arms next. “Is that all I am to you?” She joked.

“No,” Natasha answered with an olive already inside her mouth. “I’m pretty sure you could open the tomato sauce can too.”

Natasha winked at her, smiling, then turned around to put the olives inside a small container while Carol huffed, trying to pretend she was mad. The Russian woman had just grabbed the knife again when she realized how domestic it all seemed. Carol watching her cook, opening a freaking jar for her, laughing at her lame jokes and just being there with her soft smile. And Natasha was cooking for her. And she thought about a dish that the woman would like, and she wanted to make small talk, and she wanted to find out everything about Carol Danvers.

Because she liked her.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, the knife descended to cut the onion, finding her finger instead.

“Fuck,” Natasha hissed, letting go of the knife and the onion out of instinct as she took a step back to take a look at the damage.

Before she could, however, Carol jumped from the counter and was standing in front of her so fast that Natasha barely noticed her move. “Let me see,” the woman demanded, all joy gone from her voice.

She held Natasha’s wrist gently, praying for her to let her see, and the redhead didn’t have to think much before letting the woman take her already bloody hand in her own. The cut on her index finger wasn’t that deep, but blood was running freely from it and the burning she felt couldn’t be ignored. Carol tried to look at it for a while, but the blood didn’t let her assemble how bad it was, so she pulled Natasha towards the sink carefully, where she turned the faucet on and put Natasha’s finger under the running water.

“Sorry,” Carol mumbled when the other woman hissed again. “Just making sure you didn’t cut anything important.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip to stop herself from replying, deciding it was better not to try to fight the worried Carol since it didn’t do her any good the other times she tried. Carol only relaxed when the blood cleaned enough for her to see that Natasha hadn’t accidentally almost chopped her finger off and that it wasn’t so bad that she would need stitches. She actually sighed in relief and her shoulders relaxed so visibly that Natasha stared at her with her eyebrows raised.

“It won’t stop bleeding until we hold something on it,” Carol said after a while, already looking around to find something she could use. She finally saw the paper towel at a reaching distance, which she promptly grabbed to take a few from the roll. She took Natasha’s hand from the water and wrapped her finger with the paper towel, holding it tightly. “Come on, let’s make a bandage.”

“There’s no need for that,” Natasha stopped her before she could start pulling her towards the bathroom. “It will stop in a few minutes.”

“It could get infected,” the blonde argued.

Natasha looked at her with both brows raised high. “I thought you forgot how to take care of wounds.”

When Carol’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, Natasha just knew her answer would mean something. “I made some research,” she mumbled under her breath before giving Natasha’s arm a gentle pull. “Come on, let’s at least put a band-aid at it. Humor me,” she added when she noticed the other woman was about to deny it again.

It was perhaps the way her lips curled up again, but Natasha found herself agreeing with that even if she thought it was ridiculous. They walked to the bathroom where Carol grabbed the first aid kit that she knew was there, all while Natasha watched her moves carefully as if she was trying to understand something or crack one of the difficult codes she used to hack computers with. Carol tried not to pay attention to that while she grabbed something to clean the wound first.

“That’s the fourth time you bleed in my presence. I’m starting to pick up a pattern,” Carol joked to break the sudden heavy mood that fell on the room.

“Is that why you made research?” Natasha asked quickly.

Carol opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly not sure how to respond to that, until she sighed and shrugged. She took the bloody paper towel from Natasha’s finger to put it under water again while she put the antiseptic on the cotton. “Well, I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to know a few things. I mean, I knew, I just had to remember. It has been a while since I needed stitches or a bandage.” She paused then, refusing to take her eyes away from the injured finger. “Humans are very… vulnerable.”

The last sentence was said in a whisper and Natasha wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear that or not. She did, however, she had no idea how to reply to that. It wasn’t exactly what Carol said, but how she said it. Natasha knew from her late-night conversations with Carol over the chessboard that the blonde could only worry about the safety of her family while she was away in space, so she could assume that the superhero wasn’t talking only about herself getting constantly injured while Carol was around. Even so, it did seem like she was. Natasha averted looking at the other woman’s face when her stomach churned and it was only then that she realized Carol’s hands started to shake at some point.

“I’m going to be fine,” Natasha said. “It’s just a small cut, you know?”

When Carol looked up, Natasha offered her a smile that was equally reassuring and amused. The blonde held her breath for a second before she chuckled and turned to grab a band-aid. “Sorry. Guess I’m still a little shaken after taking you to the hospital,” she teased while placing the band-aid in the right place. “There you go. I’m not a doctor, but I think it’s safe to say you’re going to be just fine.”

“I told you so,” the Russian declared without removing her hand from Carol’s grasp. “You didn’t need to worry.”

“But I do.” Carol frowned and looked down. “I know you’re a very strong, capable woman that could probably kick my ass if you want to, but…”

Natasha waited for the rest of the sentence, but it never came. Instead, Carol brushed her finger over the band-aid. The shorter woman followed the movement with her eyes before she raised them to look at the woman standing in front of her. She wouldn’t be able to explain what possessed her to do it, but Natasha suddenly leaned forward. The tip of her nose brushed against Carol’s and she gave the woman enough time to stop her if she wished. Carol didn’t and she understood that as a sign that it was okay to keep going.

Their lips met in a soft touch that made Carol gasp. Natasha smiled into the kiss when she heard it and the smile quickly became a giggle, a sound that the redhead didn't make very often. Carol ended up laughing as well and their lips parted. Feeling giddy with the sudden feeling that rushed through her body, Natasha turned her head enough to rest her forehead against Carol’s shoulder. The blonde curled her strong arms around her waist, pulling their bodies closer, and Natasha felt the woman’s chest vibrate with another quiet laugh.

"It took you long enough to do that," Carol whispered.

Natasha felt her face heating up. "Why was I the one that needed to make a move, huh?"

"Because I didn't want to be punched in the face, that's why," the superhero replied.

Natasha sighed then and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to figure out everything that had happened, but her mind was immediately filled with doubts and fears. She couldn’t help but mumble: "What are we doing?"

Carol delicately nudged Natasha away so she could look at her face. It was either her bright eyes or the happy smile she was holding, but, whatever it was, Natasha felt some of her worries washing away. "Well, we were making dinner, remember? And I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"You're right," Natasha replied with a smile of her own. "Let's go back."

They walked back to the kitchen silently. They weren't holding hands and they didn’t kiss again, however, Natasha felt like something major had changed between them. It didn't make her uncomfortable, not even when she noticed Carol stealing glances at her while they walked. It made her grin, though, and she tried to distract herself by picking up the knife on the counter again.

"No, no, no," Carol stopped her quickly, taking the knife from her hand and nudging her to the side. "You need to take care of that finger of yours. I can handle it."

Natasha arched one eyebrow at her and placed both hands on her waist. "Not to be a jerk, but I don't think you can."

Carol laughed loudly this time. "I can!" She insisted, nodding. "Just give me the instructions and I will make it work."

"Please, don't destroy our kitchen," Natasha pleaded as she took a step back. To be fair, she was sure they would end up eating instant noodles because Carol wouldn’t be able to make anything, but she thought it would at least be fun to watch.

So, getting ready for the show, Natasha placed both hands on the counter behind her and pushed herself up, sitting in the same place Carol was before. For the next hour or so, she explained step-by-step the recipe to the blonde all while trying to make sure the entire compound wouldn’t be blown away.

"Taste it," Carol asked, coming closer to her with a spoon in her hand, putting the other hand beneath to make sure it wouldn’t fall on the floor.

Natasha let the woman put the spoon inside her mouth and felt a blush rising from her neck when Carol placed a hand against her tight, watching her expectantly for the verdict. "This is not bad," the redhead declared after a few seconds. "But it needs more parsley," she added.

"On it!" Carol exclaimed, already meaning to turn around to chop more of the parsley that was left, but Natasha quickly stopped her by wrapping her legs around the woman’s hips. Carol froze for a second, wide eyes and open mouth. "Oh."

Natasha only smiled when she put her hand on the back of Carol's neck to lean her in for their second kiss. It lasted longer than the first one, enough so that Carol found a place standing between Natasha’s leg to stay while both of her hands rest on the woman’s thighs, at the same time her lips seemed to tingle in excitement. Natasha kept her hand on Carol’s neck and her other arm thrown over her shoulder lazily, but her ankles crossed behind the blonde and her heart was beating way faster than it should be.

Now, Natasha wasn’t the romantic type. She didn’t believe in the type of love that could move mountains and oceans. Neither did she believe in kisses that made someone see stars behind her eyes. She did, however, felt her entire body buzz with something while her lips danced with Carol’s, the shiver that ran down her spine when their tongues met and the warmth getting lower into her body as Carol’s hands started moving forward.

It made Natasha think why on Earth it took so long for that to happen. She couldn’t remember why she had tried to keep her distance from Carol, why she was scared to feel anything when she saw the woman laughing across the chessboard, why she was trying to run away. It was hard to remember any of that when, at that moment, all she wanted was to get closer. Closer and closer and closer.

The tip of Carol’s hands had just touched the inside of her thigh when Steve’s deep voice was heard all across the compound and the two of them jumped apart so fast that it was like they burned each other. Natasha jumped from the counter while rubbing at her lips with the back of her hand, even if Carol wasn’t wearing any lipstick for it to be smeared all over her face. She didn’t allow the blonde to say anything, though, because she turned around and left the kitchen so fast that she nearly bumped into Bruce on her way out.

[...]

It was a bad idea.

Terrible.

She made a list, which sounded a bit idiotic of her, but it helped her to think more clearly.

Well, it became quite clear that it was a terrible idea.

For one, Carol traveled a lot. Which, okay, fair, it was a stupid reason because all of them traveled a lot, to be fair, but they traveled on Earth. Carol took her spaceship - or whatever she wanted to call it - and she flew across the galaxy jumping from one planet to another. She had been doing that for decades. She was barely on Earth at all, which made her constant presence at the compound the last months ever weirder, but that part didn’t make it to the final list.

Carol was also old. Well, that wasn’t the problem per se because Carol didn’t look a day older than thirty, and that was the thing. Carol wasn’t a normal human, not anymore. She didn’t age like everyone else. It would come a time when Carol would still be young and energetic while all of them - except for Thor - would be all wrinkled and grumpy.

And, fine, those were the only things Natasha could think to put on the cons list, but they were big deals. Huge, she reasoned with herself. Which meant that she ignored Carol for the next two days like she had an alien plague or something. She moved out of the way, she avoided being in the same room as her, she stayed more time inside her room and she didn’t wander into the training room because she knew that’s where Carol spent most of her days. Instead, Natasha locked herself inside the computers room with Tony and tried to think about anything else.

It, of course, didn’t explain why, on the third day, she found herself walking angrily toward an oblivious Carol standing across the yard while putting a few things inside her ship.

“What are you doing?!” Natasha exclaimed, still several feet away, which made the other woman jump a bit in surprise.

“Uh-” Carol looked around in confusion as she watched the shorter woman striking at her like a very, very, very, angry train. “Putting clean socks inside the-”

“Why?” Natasha interrupted her as she finally stopped in front of the woman.

Carol glanced at her, then back to the socks she had in her hands, before setting on Natasha again. “Because all the other ones are dirty?”

Natasha huffed. “So, you’re leaving?”

“Well, I suppose,” the blonde answered hesitantly.

“That’s great,” the Russian sarcastically scoffed. “That’s exactly what I was avoiding before.”

“What?”

“This!” She motioned with her hands at Carol. “All of this!”

Carol looked down at herself in such an innocent way that Natasha felt her heart pang inside her chest. When she looked up again, Carol had a frown and clear confusion written all over her face. “I’m sorry, Nat. I don’t understand.”

“You’re leaving.” Natasha very suddenly lost all fight inside herself. Her shoulders dropped, as did her voice, and she looked up at Carol so lost that the blonde took a step toward her. “You’re leaving,” she repeated in a whisper.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” Carol confessed equally quietly.

“Why would I want that?”

“Because you have been avoiding me for days now.” The superhero raised one eyebrow in questioning. “I thought you wanted me to be gone.”

Natasha sighed heavily and raised her hands to grab a handful of Carol’s suit. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to push the woman away or pull her close, and, in the end, she did both. “I don’t want that.”

“What do you want, then?” She didn’t get a reply. All the redhead did was shake her head and look down, which made Carol take a deep breath before gently placing her fingers under Natasha’s chin to make her look back up. “Nat…”

“I can’t ask you to stay,” the woman admitted with sorrow clear in her voice. It made Carol’s heart break into small little pieces. “I can’t ask that from you. It would be selfish of me, because you love the space. You’re the Space Cadet.” She said the last line with a small smile.

“I can’t ask you to go with me,” Carol replied. “Your family is here.”

“But do you?” Natasha looked up with her eyes shining with what appeared to be tears she refused to drop. “Do you want to ask me to go with you?”

Carol nodded without having to think about it first. “I wouldn’t want anything else,” she declared. “I stayed here because I didn’t want to stay away from you.”

“Why?”

This time, Carol smiled. “Is it too hard for you to believe I just wanted to?”

Natasha sighed and shook her head in exasperation. “Yes because the most exciting things around the last months were you keeping me from bleeding around.”

“You are very frail, you know?” The blonde whispered after a pause and her hand raised to rub at the scar left on Natasha’s shoulder. “You’re powerful and dangerous, but you’re also human. I’m afraid something will happen to you and that I won’t be able to do a single thing about that.”

Maybe that’s what was on Carol’s list, Natasha thought to herself. It made her think if Carol even thought this through before deciding she wanted to spend more time with Natasha because that lead both of them with a lot to lose and not much to be done about it.

“In our world,” Natasha started after she looked too long into Carol’s eyes, “where anything can happen at any time, I think we should all live our lives to the best of it.” She paused to let her words sink in, but also because she was repeating those words inside her head over and over again. “I won’t ask you to stay,” she repeated.

“That’s okay,” Carol replied quietly. “You don’t have to. I’m offering to.”

“And, just so you know, I’m not usually that clumsy.”

Carol chuckled now, curling her arms around Natasha’s waist without a care as to who might see them. “That's a relief to hear, actually. If we’re making confessions, you should know I snore.”

Natasha’s laugh filled the space around them and Carol was sure she made the right decision.

#marvel #marvel universe #black widow #captain marvel #natasha romanoff #carol danvers #carolnat #natasha x carol #carol x natasha #fanfic #ao3 #my writing #scarlett johansson #brie larson #one shot

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e-munson666 · 2 years

Note

Miss girl after reading that very spicy and angsty Steddie Fic, I think we should get a part 2 so we know what happens after Steve returns👀

If you insist. HERE IT IS.

++Steddie x Girlfriend!Reader++

Warnings ⚠️: 18+, language, mature content, unplanned pregnancy, MORE ANGST! fighting. Abuse, Stalking, Steve is MEAN. Eddie is very protective of reader. Everyone is 21.

Taglist: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @kylaasposts @joekeeryworld @aggressiverocknoises @need-a-life-or-grass

Part 1

🖤Lady Hellfire🖤

Steve came back from his "walk several hours later, drunk, and still fuming. He sees you and Eddie sitting on the couch, Eddies arms wrapped around you. "Get the fuck up" Steve demands, grabbing your arm.

"Dont tou.." Eddie began before Steve cut him off "SHUT UP MUNSON." His grip around your wrist tightened as he pulled you to your feet.

"Heres what's gonna happen" he said, face inches away from yours, "your either going to get rid of it, or you both can get the fuck out of here."

"Shes not getting rid of MY baby Steve" Eddie scoffed, reaching his arm in-between you and Steve.

"Shes MY girlfriend Munson, and if she wants to stay here and be with me, she's fucking getting rid of it." Steve spits, grabbing Eddies collar. The boys stared at each other in a heated, silent glare, chests heaving, fists clenching.

"Im not getting rid of it Steve" you mutter, looking over at Eddie.

"Then get the fuck out. Both of you. NOW" Steve yells, shoving you towards the door. The last time you saw Steve was when Eddie was pounding his fist into Steve's face for touching you. "Go, wait in my van, I'll be right there" he commanded through gritted teeth before shutting the apartment door, ready to full on brawl with Steve.

That was two months ago. Now you and Eddie live in a tiny little trailer, close to his uncle Wayne. Eddie picked up more shifts at the hideout, and you got a part time job at the Library in town. You and Eddie were happy, incredibly in love, and so excited for your baby. There was just one problem, Steve Harrington was stalking you.

It started 2 weeks ago, when Steve caught a glimpse of your tiny bump as he was waiting for Henderson to come out of the Library. He knew he'd royally fucked up the moment he regained consciousness after Eddie had beat his ass. He wanted you back with him, no matter who's baby that was, he NEEDED you back with him.

It was innocent at first, he would come by the library every day, sitting out in his car waiting to catch a small glimpse of you as you walked to your car. But it escalated quickly from there, he would follow you home, and spend hours watching you and Eddie through the windows of your trailer. He watched as Eddie catered to you, watched him spoil you, watched him take Steve's rightful place as the man in your life.

Neither you or Eddie had noticed Steve following you around, that is until today, when Eddie came to pick you up from work. He'd only driven you because you felt dizzy that morning.......when he pulled his van up to the parking lot he saw Steve's BMW. He didn't think much of it at first, its a public library after all, and Steve and Henderson still hangout quite a bit. It wasn't until he noticed Steve still in the drivers seat that he started to get concerned. Eddie became angry when he saw you walk out of the library and towards his van, and he saw Steve's eyes on your every move.

Eddie was almost on fire when you finally entered the van. "Eds......what's wrong?" You ask, immediately noticing how angry he was. "Eddie?"

"Nothing sweetheart" he lied, carefully pulling out of the lot and heading home. It wasn't long until he caught a glimpse of the BMW trailing behind them. That solidified it for Eddie, causing him to become enraged.

"Princess" he said, in a too calm tone, "dont be scared okay, but Steve is following us."

"What?!" You choke, turning in your seat to see that Eddie was right.

"He was watching you, as you walked out of the library. He watched you walk all the way to my van, and now the fucker is following us" Eddie grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. How dare Steve bother the two of you after everything he fucking did. He had a lot of audacity to even fucking look at you at all.

He made a split second decision, holding his arm out in front of you as he stomped on the breaks. The van came to a screeching hault, and Eddie could hear Steve's tires do the same.

"Eddie" you nearly whisper, seeing the anger in his face, knowing what he was about to do.

"Stay here baby, PLEASE." He begs, kissing your cheek before unbuckling his seatbelt. Before you could argue with him he was hopping out of the van, stomping towards Steve, who was already leaning against the hood of his own vehicle.

You were too scared to move, so you just watched in horror at what was unfolding.

"Why the fuck are you following us Harrington" Eddie yells as he approaches Steve, hands gripping his collar as he speaks.

Steve just flashes a coy smile at Eddie before responding, "Im here to take my girl home." Returning Eddies grip around his jacket.

Eddie is taken aback by what Steve had just said to him, "what the fuck are you talking about Harrington, that's not YOUR girl anymore remember, she's mine now, she's all fucking mine, you piece of shit" Eddie seethes, shaking Steve as he just laughed in Eddies face.

As you watched from the van you witnessed the most horrible thing happen. Steve swept Eddies leg out from under him, slamming him onto the pavement, knocking him out. You saw the dark look on Steve's face as he turned to the van.

Before thinking you tried to scramble out of the passenger seat, attempting to run into the forest you were parked near. You didn't make it far before Steve had a tight, rough hold around your neck. "Dont fucking fight me babydoll" he said coldly.

You thrashed around for a moment, trying to escape his grip, but he tightens his arm around you, cutting off your air. You gasped for air and stumbled on your feet as Steve led you back to his BMW, shoving you inside. He turned to where Eddie was laying on the pavement, a tiny trickle of blood running down the road where Eddies skull hit the concrete. Steve spit on the ground next to Eddie before climbing into the drivers seat of his car.

You were shaking and crying frantically. "Steve" you whimpered, his tires screeched as he turned the car around, speeding away. He didn't respond to you, he just kept driving, flashing you a crazed look every now and then.

A/N: this went off the rails HARD!!! But I fucking love it. Part 3?!

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randomshyperson · 2 years

Text

Rulers of The Multiverse - Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Chapter Thirteen

Summary: Strange’s faulty spell will cause a series of unexpected events, from your reunion with the love of your life in another world to the appearance of a child capable of traveling across the multiverse. This story follows the journey of a very tired Guardian alongside mischievous America Chavez and Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: (+18) explicit language and sexual content, violence, a lot of magic, found family, mentions of abusive past and trauma, mind control, use of illicit substances, mostly top!reader, soulmates analogies. || Words: 5.727k

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Series Masterlist

--//--

Chapter Thirteen - The Star of David

Wanda was scared that if she admitted that she was happy, everything would be taken from her again. But as days go by, from waking up in your bed, sharing kisses in the morning, and having silly yet meaningful conversations in the afternoons to warm intimate touches at the night, she often comes to the conclusion that happiness didn't even get close to define how truly delight she was feeling. And that was pretty much terrifying.

The first day, there had been a little anxiety between the two of you as you woke up so wrapped together - and after so many kisses and touches exchanged before bedtime - but you smiled at her with lazy eyes, hiding your face in her neck and murmuring 'good morning, witchy' against her skin and Wanda could only think how much she wanted that every day.

The three of you were trying to fall into a normal routine, as far as the word could go for two sorceresses, a child who could open portals in a magic van around the multiverse, and despite everything, you were doing a very good job.

America had been crestfallen the first few days with the news about her world, so in addition to Wanda discovering and preparing her favorite foods, she suggested that you try to teach her about her powers again.

The van moved according to the road, but it was obvious that you were going somewhere by the discrepant change of scenery and weather. Every three or four hours, you would make the vehicle stop so that everyone could stretch their legs, and even spend some time trying to train a little with America with her portals.

At night, you slept in the same bed with Wanda, and that was probably the only reason the nightmares stopped. She let herself believe, even for a small moment, that it was because you kissed her so well that she forgot about any other problems.

Wanda grew more afraid to admit how happy she was every second, so she wasn't taken by surprise when things started to go wrong again.

It was clear that you had left the In-Between Realm when the van broke down for the first time.

You climbed off with a grimace - it was dark and fucking cold - but at least you still had a tool kit and a flashlight.

America was asleep, and Wanda looked around for a jacket before coming after you, finding you in the back of the vehicle, the panel open and a confused expression on your face.

"What happened, dorogaya?" She asked approaching you and leaning against the vehicle.

"I have no idea." You muttered half annoyed. "I didn't even know magical cars could break."

Wanda chuckled softly at your comment, moving closer to rest her face against your shoulder, and look at the smoky engine. "It's freezing. Let me fix it, and get back inside."

"Hey, who says I can't fix it?" You retort with a false offense, making her smile at your stubbornness as you clear your throat and raise your hand to the engine. "Let's see..."

You try a few times, small sparks but nothing more. Your sigh of frustration makes Wanda kiss your cheek.

"Come on, baby, it's no big deal. Let me fix it."

But you tense up, upset. You turn your face to Wanda, and though you squeeze her waist gently, you only murmur an 'I'm sorry' and walk away inside.

Wanda swallows dryly and tries not to let it grow on her. You both know that if your magic is getting weak again, soon you will too. And the time is running short, and neither of you has any idea how to attract the gods yet.

With a simple flick of her fingers, the engine starts up again with a scarlet thread. The van makes a different sound, but Wanda smiles small when she sees that it had worked, and doesn't waste any more time outside.

She doesn't notice the way the remaining wires merge with the gold ones until they form three tiny family members' stickers on the back.

—--

Wanda has one of the Kamar Taj books - which she has no idea how you were able to memorize well enough to appear in the van - in her lap as you step out of the shower.

She raises an eyebrow at the pajama pattern.

"Don't wear that in front of America." She warns, and you give a small laugh as you dry your hair. The phrase Scarlet Witch' Little Bitch on your chest.

"I have an incredible subconscious sense of humor, you have to admit." You comment, and with a small gesture, the print changes to 'Scarlet Witch's Wife and it's your turn to raise an eyebrow at Wanda. "Better?"

"Absolutely." She replies with a small smile, and as you go to put the towel away to dry, she stows the book on one of the high shelves, lying down on the bed and waiting for you to join her.

The van moves at a slow speed, and it is almost snowing outside. As you lie down, Wanda asks if America has enough blankets, and you mumble half-heartedly that you made sure she did. She notices that you are distant because your hands are under the pillow and not around her.

"Talk to me." Wanda asks as she straightens up to look at you, and although your arm covers part of your face, she can see your eyes clearly.

"About what?" you murmur back, your voice half-muffled by your skin.

"Anything you want." Her response makes you smile softly.

"Sorry for breaking the car."

Wanda sighs with a smile, shaking her head. "Detka, you know that it' s not your fault."

"I know, and it still sucks." You retort, closing your eyes for a moment. "But whatever, we knew we'd get back to real life at some point."

Wanda swallows a dry breath, hesitating for a second. She lets these insecurities fly into her head sometimes - about the fragility of the routine in the last days, about the hope of it not being temporary, about having and keeping a family by your side - and you, of course, notice.

Straightening up finally, you move one hand to Wanda's cheek, allowing her to finally see your whole face.

"Tell me what you're thinking." You ask in a whisper, and Wanda feels the tears welling up easily. She doesn't want to cry, and she hates how easily she does it. "Oh, don't cry, was it something I said?"

Your concern, your tenderness almost hurts her. She moves forward, kissing your lips hard and taking you by surprise, so she doesn't take offense when you pull away.

"Darling, talk to me." You insist with your hand firmly on her cheek, licking your lips as if not continuing what she has started requires too much control from you. "Just tell me what's wrong first. And we can go on."

Wanda nods, offering you a small smile as she raises one of her hands to your face as well.

"I'm just scared." She confesses low, fingers caressing your cheek. "I don't think I can lose someone again. I don't...I can't take it."

You swallow dryly, moving closer. "I'm not going anywhere, Wanda. You know that, don't you?"

But she doesn't answer, sniffling softly, and you pull yourself up to rest your face on your hand. "Hey, look at me." You ask, waiting until hesitant green orbs are staring back at you. "All my promises are for real, even the ones I was too stupid to keep. I said I would come back to you, and despite the delay, I am here. I said I would face the gods to be with you, and I mean it. You're my priority, I'll find us a way."

"I want to believe you, Y/N." Wanda retorts in a half-embarrassed voice. "God, I really do. This thing, this life we're having with America is the best I've felt in a long time. And I want to keep it. But... there are all these voices, and then these dreams, and I just-" Wanda cuts herself off with a small sob, shaking her head and looking down. "I'm just so scared. I don't want to be alone again."

"Wanda, I'm here." You assure moving to hover over her, face to face, noses touching. "I'm not going anywhere." You whisper against her lips, closing your eyes but you don't kiss her, moving your face down to her neck and sinking your body into her and getting a deep sigh from the witch, who moves her hands to your shoulders and hair.

"Don't leave me alone again, doragoya." She asks in a whisper, and you sigh against her skin, sharp and warm until Wanda closes her eyes as well, nails scratching your scalp. "Do you still want to talk?"

"I do, Wanda." You confess surprising her a little because she can feel the heat radiating from your body. "I want to talk to you every day. To know you, to kiss you, to love you." You continue, brushing your lips downward and Wanda gasps only when she feels your face against her covered breasts, hips instinctively throwing up into yours. But all you do is pant heavily against her before you raise your head. "Tell me something I don't know."

Wanda has to push some of the arousal away, which doesn't prove very easy with your hands coming down and your fingers making designs on the bones of her hips, but she handles facing you back as you rest your chin against her chest, and look at her in a way that makes her stomach fill with butterflies.

"Hm, like what?" she retorts trying to buy time, because since when have her eyes gotten so deep and your lips so eye-catching and-

"Anything." You murmur back, leaving her hips to embrace her fully. "I could start, but it would be too easy, you know almost nothing about me."

"Hey." Wanda complains but you only offer her a soft chuckle, both of you knowing that that was no less than a half-truth. " That' s not fair, I know you."

You only close your eyes, resting lazily against her. "Looking at someone's memories isn't exactly knowing someone. Someone told me that once."

"Who?"

"Your dad." You retort making her frown in surprise, but you continue with your eyes closed as if you were telling a weekend story. "Well, my Wanda's dad, actually. He liked me, and well... it was nice to have a father figure who thought the marriage was an incredible idea."

Wanda swallowed dryly, remembering the story America had told about the badge. She straightened up a bit, and brought one of her hands to your face, leaving the other in your hair in caresses that she knew you appreciated from the way you sighed.

"How was it, with your parents I mean, after you guys decided to try again?" She asks because she really didn't know. These memories you sped through.

You sigh a little, and open your eyes, keeping your gaze far away though you don't move a bit away from her.

"I think we tried to be something we weren't anymore. And then, I asked Wanda to marry me, and they had the reason they wanted to send me away again."

Wanda presses her lips together. "I'm sorry."

You shake your head, turning your gaze back to her. "Don't worry, sweetheart." You assure with a small smile. "I had people, and well, Erik was pretty supportive."

Wanda blinks in confusion, "Erik?"

"Your father?"

Wanda gives a confused giggle, "My father's name was Oleg."

It's your turn to make a confused expression. "What? But Erik was so cool!" You retort making her laugh softly. "That's weird although, usually... well, at least with my variants, we all have the same parents you know? I guess despite the magic part, the biology of the thing still makes some sense. We are the same cosmic equivalents, we are born from the same people even though we don't go through the same events and-"

"Detka, you're overthinking this." Wanda cuts in with a giggle, grabbing your face to kiss you softly before pulling away. "It's just a name. It's probably the same man, though a difference in registration."

"Could your father move metal?" You ask causing Wanda to frown in surprise.

"What?

"It's just that Erik was a mutant like my Wanda, and could move metal and-"

"I'm not your Wanda, Y/N." She interrupts sounding more aggressive than she really would like, not really understanding why she suddenly felt so uncomfortable with the subject. You swallow dryly.

"No, I didn't mean-" You begin but Wanda is straightening up and trying to put distance between your bodies and you shut up to allow it, lying down beside her as she turns her back to you.

"I'm tired, sorry." She murmurs and you sigh softly. "We'll continue this tomorrow."

"No, it's all right." You retort and are moving to sit on the bed. "I'll keep an eye on the car so it doesn't crash again, good night."

And you are leaving the bed before Wanda can say anything, but honestly, she doesn't think she would anyway. And probably because you weren't there, Wanda had another nightmare.

—--

You weren't sure how to solve this problem with Wanda.

To you, she was your wife. No matter what she looked like, no matter the change in nationality. She was your Wanda. In any version of this multiverse, you know you would love her. She was the same person to you, as an extension of the one you started out loving on your earth and now had a new history.

But for her, it was not like that. A part of her felt that you were using her as a replacement for your dead wife, and that made you sick to your stomach. Wanda was your wife, in any world. She was yours as you were hers.

How could you make her understand that?

"Are you all right?" America's voice cuts you from your reveries, and just then you grunt at the pain in your right hand, realizing that you had put in far more coffee than necessary.

The van was parked again, and from the views in the distance, civilization was only a few hours away. Although you didn't know what kind of universe the road had brought you, for lack of enemies or magic stones, you were positive about it.

Wanda set up a breakfast table outside, and part of you had the impression that it was just because she didn't want to sit on your lap like she had the last few days, but neither of you said anything. You went to get the coffee, and when you looked at the cross-legged figure on the bench with a magic book in her hand, looking absolutely beautiful and stunning like all the other damn times, you found yourself lost in thought.

Your delay made America come after you.

"Shit, sorry." You muttered, quickly looking around for a cloth to clean up the mess. " I got distracted."

"I noticed." America retorts with a giggle. "What's going on between you two?"

"What? Nothing." You say too quickly, and by the arched eyebrow, you sigh. "It's not children's business." You mumble defensively, making America roll her eyes.

"Come on, I'm already 14."

"Wow, a real old lady." You mock getting a grimace from her as you finish cleaning up the coffee. "It's nothing you need to worry about, I meant, Chavez. Wives' business."

"You upset her." America accuses in a casual tone and you frown.

"What? How...?"

"She makes my favorite foods when I get upset. When she gets upset, she doesn't eat. She's reading at the table, and she didn't even ask for coffee." America explains. "So, I suggest you fix things because she is scary when she is upset."

You sigh crossing your arms. "I don't know how to do that."

"With that, I can't help, sorry. Like you said yourself, I'm just a kid." America teases shrugging, and leaving the kitchen with a box of cupcakes, ignoring the grimace you make at her.

When you look outside and see Wanda accidentally set one of the sunflower petals on fire, and quickly apologize before going to sit even farther away from the table in the grass, you think you need to find a solution to this soon.

—-

Your first guess at Wanda's irritation is the return of Chton's influence, but to your surprise, the few times you had the courage to pester her on the subject, she offered you a short smile and assured you that she couldn't hear him anymore.

So when you arrived in the first town, and Wanda remained distant, you knew it had to be about the last fight.

"I think we've finally arrived at a place not focused on magic, guys." America commented from in front of the television in the little convenience store you were in. You didn't really need anything, but you and Wanda thought it best to investigate a little about the kind of place you ended up in.

It was a simple place, and the salesman was a long-haired teenager who spoke very slowly and had a strong smell of pizza and dog shampoo.

"Hey, pal, can you tell us what city we are in? We were on a family trip sort of off the beaten path." You ask as soon as you say good morning to him at the counter, while Wanda and America go deeper into the store.

"S-sorry, not English..." He starts and you quickly gesture to him that it was okay. The young man sighs with relief before he begins to speak in Romanian. "How can I help?"

You opened your mouth to repeat the phrase in Romanian but grunted as you felt your translation rune burn the back of your head, and before the salesman could get any more confused, Wanda was at your side, speaking for you.

"Ah, yes, that sounds like fun! Welcome to Dragorin. I've never seen Americans this far." Commented the boy, but you only understood a few words, trying to disguise the growing headache.

Wanda offered him a polite nod before discreetly pushing you aside.

"What's wrong?" She asked worriedly, but you shook your head quickly, pushing the discomfort away to force a smile at her.

"I didn't know you spoke Romanian."

Wanda frowned. "Sokovian."

"What...?"

"Guys, is it okay if I buy this? It's so adorable." America interrupted you, appearing with a keychain of a star, which made you smile softly.

"If you're interested in Judaism, of course." You retort, approaching her. America blinks in confusion.

"What's that?"

"A religion. Didn't they have that on your planet?" You reply, and she shakes her head quickly.

"What do they believe in?"

"In one God who revealed himself through ancient prophets." It is Wanda who answers, drawing immediate attention to herself. She clears her throat. "M-my parents were Jewish."

"Cool." America murmurs with a sincere smile, but you are looking at Wanda with surprise, and she is trying to pretend she doesn't care as she moves closer to trace the item Chavez is holding.

"This is the Star of David. Peit-my brother, he used to carry one." She continues half nostalgically. "But after we lost our parents, and the war got worse, we lost our connection to faith in many ways. I don't think I would even know how to quote anything from the Tanakh if I tried." She murmurs with a sad laugh, and finding the same in her and America's gaze, she clears her throat. "Anyway... I guess you could use this just as America's star for now. And if you ever want to learn about Judaism or any other religion, Y/N or I can help you with that."

"Oh, no, it's okay." America says with a small smile, returning the item to the keychain shelf. "We have no religions, but we have learned on my planet that symbols carry great meanings. I wouldn't want to appropriate this." She says, and you and Wanda can't help the proud smile you share.

"Hey, what were you talking about this world not caring about magic before?" You ask remembering, and America quickly points to the television in the back of the store, where a local news report on what appears to be about vegetable gardens is playing.

"I guess things are quiet around this world." America murmurs, and you nod in agreement, ruffling her hair affectionately before asking if she wants anything that isn't magic food to eat before you head back to the van.

Neither of you notices Wanda swallowing dryly at the keychain of the Republik Transien National Flag.

—------

Only when you were back driving through the beautiful flatlands of Transia, and Wanda fell asleep in the passenger seat, did you discover that her distance was on account of nightmares.

America was eating non-magical hamburgers on the couch - for which she was kind enough to say that your powers cooked the meat better - and with crossword puzzle magazines that she got from the convenience store with the local currency, because Wanda didn't want her to steal it, and she had enough magic to conjure up some very real bills.

You were softly humming a song that you now couldn't pronounce anymore since your rune had simply stopped working, and tapping your fingers on the steering wheel when Wanda suddenly jumped out of her seat and you almost lost control of the car.

"Jesus Christ, Wanda!" You exclaimed in fright, ignoring the honking and cursing of the other drivers as you quickly parked the car on the shoulder, and turned your attention back to Wanda breathing heavily on the seat and looking on the verge of tears. "Hey, hey, baby, it was just a bad dream..." You started but when you went to touch her she jumped again, and began to cry, hiding her face between her hands.

You were out of the seat in record time, almost breaking your seat belt.

"Wanda, I'm here, focus on my voice. Can you do that for me?" You insisted in a mixture of desperation and concern, your hands in her lap, and face, trying to bring her out of her panicked state.

"N-no, I can't...I'm so sorry...I would never do that to you, I wouldn't-" She cried out disconnected sentences, barely breathing between pauses.

"Here, feel my hand. Focus on my breathing." You guided her without losing your calm, holding her against you.

Long, long tense minutes for her breathing to return to normal again, her forehead resting against yours. But she was still crying.

"I'm so sorry..." She gasped sinking her face into your neck, and you swallowed dryly, not knowing what she was talking about, but being able to imagine the kind of dream.

"Darling, don't worry, it was just a bad dream." You murmured softly, your hands caressing her back. "You would never hurt me, Wanda."

She hugged you tighter, and then something hit the car.

For long moments, you saw only water.

Miles and miles, and a clear sky that reflected the wet ground. You were in the center, without shoes. You tried to look around, but there was nothing but still water.

Then, your eyes saw a temple, and you were moving.

And you were back on the ground with a sharp pain in your abdomen.

It was obvious the impact had thrown you out of the car. Your ears were ringing, and when you forced yourself up, worry in your mind, you grunted in pain, but you were satisfied to find nothing broken.

Your tranquility ended very quickly as you looked forward to the Van. Whatever hit you came from behind. It threw you through the glass and you flew a good few feet away.

Through the broken window you saw that the vehicle was empty.

"W-wanda? America?" You asked immediately, ignoring the pain from the cuts to stand upright. You recognized some lights coming out of the area covered by the wrecked vehicle, and crawled in that direction.

You only had time to recognize Wanda with her fists raised and glowing scarlet as her eyes before one of the figures fighting her hit you with some kind of shield.

It threw you hard against the broken van, and you dodged at the last second a closed fist in its direction.

"What the hell is going on?" You managed to shout in confusion as the fight continued. Your opponent was a girl - angry and brunette - wearing a blue helmet. "Why. are. you. trying. to. kill. me?" You punctuated each question with a deflection of her punches.

She grunted impatiently, hitting your legs and you fell to the ground with your hands in front of your body. Before she could land the kick she planned to land on your stomach, scarlet magic threw her away from you.

The opposing group stepped back a bit, adjusting their position. There were three of them - Furious Girl in the right corner with her shield from England, a cloaked lady with a staff that was sure to do a lot of damage, and a third helmeted figure in the center, with some sort of golden armor - and they seemed well up for a bad fight.

Wanda used her magic to get you on your feet and pull you close to her.

"I won't ask again. Give the girl back." That's what she says, and it only makes your desperation grow for not having seen America yet.

Instead of answering Wanda, the Knight in front pulls a glowing white sword from their back, going into a fighting state.

"Make sure she doesn't kill any more variants." Says the figure to the other two. Wanda grunts impatiently at your side, and raises her hand, with a simple movement of her fingers, the two girls are enveloped in a red mist, which makes the knight flinch.

"Don't exhaust my patience." She warns, but to everyone's surprise, the Knight only moves forward.

It's a mess. At the first moment, you think Wanda is holding back, and you don't even have a full minute to realize that her magic is actually not working properly. Everything she tries to attack, the Knight blocks with the white sword, and the scarlet threads unravel in the air.

It disturbs Wanda enough that the old woman with the staff breaks free - and confirms your theory that she was a witch as well - and starts interfering in the duel, releasing the other one as too.

You immediately move to face them together, and in your state, it would be suicide. Except that apparently, they have no intention of actually hurting you at all.

"No, Peggy!" The Witch oddly stops the shield with her staff just before it hits your stomach. "Remember that she's just another victim."

Peggy grunts softly, the shield in hand. You don't give her time to respond from you, spinning on the ground and attacking her. You feel the witch conjure something in your back, and suddenly you can't strike anymore, hands clamped to your back by very painful black chains.

You lose your balance, looking forward. Wanda is losing it, somehow, she is.

"Stop." You plead as the knight hits her in the face and she loses her balance, falling onto one knee. "No." You grunt with tears in your eyes, struggling against the chains.

"Do it, now!" Peggy shouts to the knight, and without delay, they move forward. The sword goes through Wanda at chest height, but it is you who screams.

The chains explode in your hands, and the staff witch is thrown against the van as Peggy flies to the other side.

The Knight fearlessly removes the sword, while Wanda presses on the wound with an expression of pure shock.

You try to attack, but the Knight knows all your moves, and masterfully deflects and blocks them all. Within seconds, they hit you with the top of the sword and you fall to your knees.

"Wanda..." You gasp, reaching out to reach the fallen figure on the ground, but the knight grabs you by the collar of your shirt.

"Free yourself." She says, and you frown as you recognize your own voice. No time to question, though. You feel a familiar cold air behind you, and in the next second, you are pushed into a portal.

You try to go back, but it closes in and you only find a damp wall.

"No, no, no..." You start in desperation, punching the concrete. "Wanda-"

"Y/N!" Suddenly, America is hugging you around the waist. You spin around confused, hugging her back but looking around in complete confusion. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"America, what?" you start, but someone pulls her away from you, tugging you against the wall and pressing a very sharp dagger on your neck. "Okay, this is happening."

"Are you still asleep, puppet?" Asks a female voice with a strong accent that makes your eyes widen.

"My god, Natasha?" You exclaim in surprise, but the knife doesn't waver. "Oh, damn, you must not know me in this world-"

"Oh, I know exactly who you are, Y/N." She retorts, and finally, the iron mask of her armor opens, and you can see the familiar - albeit bruised - face of your otherworldly friend. "Remember it well from your funeral."

You swallow dryly, in shock, and she presses you a little harder. "So tell me, are you still one of the witch's puppets?"

"Stop it!" America intervenes from the other side, a boy also masked was holding her by the arms. "She came with me! We are not being controlled by anyone!"

"Nat, it's Y/N! It shouldn't work on her right?" asks the boy holding America, and the redhead finally flinches, sighing softly.

"It's no sin to be careful." She says before putting the dagger down, and you grimace as you raise your hand to the red scar around your neck. America releases herself from her grip and runs back to you, wrapping her arms around your waist again.

You realize now that you are in some kind of cell - dark and damp and scary - with several mattresses on the floor, tables, and weapons, on the walls too. It makes you squeeze America harder.

"Who the hell are you people?" You question Nat and the five other masked men in the back of the room. The redhead gives a wry laugh.

"Definitely not from this universe." Is her reply before she turns away to look out the windows, from where you can hear fireworks. "We're running out of time, if Carter doesn't come back-"

"Where's Wanda?" You interrupt almost in desperation, startling the room. "I don't- God, she got hurt. And we're in the van, and suddenly the knight was there and we-"

You felt panic take over your chest. What if Wanda, what if she was...?"

"Are you sure she's not another puppet?" Natasha comments distrustfully, but suddenly the boy who was holding America is in front of you, as quickly as a blink of an eye.

"How did you meet her? Where did you come from?" He questions tilting his head slightly as if to analyze you, but you are leaning your hands on the wall behind you, trying to breathe properly. "Natasha, there's something different about this one."

Natasha rolls her eyes, and America is trying to calm you down, one hand on your shoulder.

"There' s nothing different, she must be coming out of the spell or something!" Rationalizes the redhead. "Maximoff, we don't have time for that!"

But the boy pulls the mask off and kneels down at the height you sat against the wall. You choke in surprise to see young Pietro standing in front of you.

"Hey, you know me don't you?" He asks gently and ignores Natasha's grumbling in the background about that being a waste of time. "How do you know Wanda?"

"She's my wife."

He widens his eyes in surprise, an incredulous laugh escaping his lips. "Wife? No way."

"That doesn't mean anything, Maximoff!" Natasha argues from the side with impatience, though Pietro continues to look at you with impressed eyes. "So what if in one of the million realities, she decided to put on a ring instead of pulling a knife? It doesn't mean anything! Get back to work!"

You blinked in confusion, still in a half-panicked state, and Pietro stood up suspiciously.

"But that's never happened before, right, Nat? What if that's the Y/N she's looking for?"

"That's impossible because in case you've forgotten, our little witch has spent the last few months going into other universes after her! Do you really expect me to believe that the right Y/N would come right here?" Natasha argues back.

The argument begins to escalate. They shout about some kind of fight, and someone is looking for something and looking for you too. Your head is spinning, and there is a very strong taste of iron in your mouth.

When your back starts to burn, and you lose your balance forward, needing America's help not to fall to the ground, the discussion stops.

"She's bleeding." Someone says, and your shirt is being pulled off. Someone places you face down on one of the mattresses on the floor, and you recognize the familiar warmth of America's hand in yours.

"It's okay, Y/N, they're going to bandage your bruises." She whispers to you, but it's definitely not just that.

It burns like they are cutting you instead of helping you. You muffle your cries and tears against the dirty pillow beside your head, and just when it feels like the pain is going to kill you, it stops.

The room is completely silent until you hear quiet footsteps approaching.

Your face is wet with sweat, and you are breathing hard. When you raise your eyes to the door from which you heard the sound, you sigh softly.

"Hello, Y/N." Erik Lehnsherr greets you neutrally, hands folded behind his body, a black cloak resembling everyone's clothes. "It's good to finally meet our Guardian."

You don't answer back, letting exhaustion take over your body.

--//--

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #Rulers of The Multiverse #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines

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