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allbark-no-bite · 5 months

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marriage and honor.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.5k)

summary: the Navy has already taken two people from your life, and you don’t intend to let there be a third. that is until Jake Seresin walks into your life

warnings: severe plot holes, mentions of character death, swearing

authors note: based off of the movie Purple Hearts. it’s a great movie and i highly suggest watching it! please bear with me in the beginning of this, the plot holes fix themselves, i promise lol. i literally threw this together because i wrote one scene for shits and giggles and had to commit to it

(read parts two and three here: december and devotion, cats and christmas)

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No one ever expects to have to bury their brother at fifteen. Kinda just like no one expects to have to bury their other brother at eighteen. But you do it the first time and then you do it again three years later. It's a bit like deja vu the second time, like you're reliving the actual nightmare all over again. Except this time there's no one to hold your hand and tell you it's all going to be alright because he's dead and buried too.

They both die honorable deaths in service to their country. At least that's what they say at the memorials. You're not so sure there's anything comforting about dying honorably. They're both still dead, honored or not.

Raised by your grandparents, you'd grown up the youngest of three on a military base smack dab in the middle of San Diego, better yet known as Fightertown USA. True military brats, your old brothers enlisted straight out of high school, one after the other. As their young and impressionable kid sister, you worshiped the ground they walked on and had your heart set on following in their footsteps. That was of course, until they both went and died.

'Sometime these things just happen', is what you were told. And you know, freak accidents do happen. Engines fail, training exercises go awry, safety precautions are ignored. But that doesn't make up for the fact that lightning has, against all odds, stuck the same place twice.

So after the Navy takes away not one but two people from your life, you swear off all things to do with military life. The moment you graduate high school you pay out of pocket just to move off of the base into a shitty the-bedroom-and-bathroom-are-in-the-same-place apartment. You go to college and get the kind of degree that looks good on paper but you can't really get a job with. But it's fine because it helped you to put the past behind you and move on. So much that when your grandmother passes away unexpectedly, leaving your grandfather widowed, you're able to stomach moving back closer to home to take care of him.

At least, you'd thought that you had moved on.

Now, standing in the middle of the courthouse wearing what had been your college graduation dress (the only white dress you could find on such short notice) and watching the man before you slip a ring on your finger, you're not so sure. As a matter of a fact, you actually feel sick, queasy like you might have to bend over the nearest trashcan to get the blood rushing to your head again. That might would be a good idea because what the hell were you thinking.

Jake must take notice of the expression on your face because he offers you a weak smile, his pink lips pressed together. The same thought must be running through his mind too because he also looks like he might be sick at any moment.

What the hell were either of you thinking?

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." Thankfully the minister is too bored looking with his own job to notice that both of you are looking worse for wear. He also completely forgets to say 'you may now kiss the bride', which is another thing to be thankful for. That might have been the straw that broke the camel's back and sent both you and Jake running for the hills. Instead he mumbles a unenthusiastic congratulations and departs from the room, leaving you and Jake standing numbly side by side.

In the following seconds after the minister leaves the room, silence settles between the two of you, partially due to shock and partially because you don't even know what to say. It's a sight, Jake in his pristine navy dress whites and you in your too short college graduation dress.

Finally, Jake clears his throat, swallowing. "Well, there's no turning back now."

*queue rewind noise*

You may be wondering how we got here.

*six days ago*

"C'mon baby, you didn't think that was funny? Girls usually love that line."

He'd been after you all night, smiling, cracking jokes, buying you beers. You had to admit, he was nothing if not persistant.

"Unfortunately for you, I don't date funny guys." Despite your tone, you're actually genuinely amused by the situation. He's trying so hard, and it's getting him absolutely nowhere.

He's handsome, without a doubt the most attractive man at the bar, but he could be the most attractive man in the world and you still wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Not with that smile and defiantly not with that uniform on.

"And why is that?" he laughs, undeterred by your blatant disinterest. His friends are watching, have been watching the two of you do this dance all night, and he's not about to back down now.

You watch the smile lines that appear on his tanned face, the way his eyes crinkle in amusement as he awaits on your answer. He's probably a few years your senior, early thirties if that's anything to go by.

"Funny guys are dangerous. They make you laugh and laugh and then boom you're naked."

His smile twitches and yeah, you can be funny too, wise guy.

"Is that where you think this is going?" he asks.

"Where else would it be going?"

And that's how it all started. The beginning of the end.

"You know navy spouses get a monthly stipend and are allowed to live on base?"

You remain facing the bar, peeling at the label on your bottle, not bothering to glance to your side. "You know, I really fucking wish Natasha would keep her mouth shut."

"(Y/n)—"

"It's no one else's fucking business what—"

He grabs the seat of your stool, nearly jerking it out from under you as he pulls it closer to his own. "Listen to me," he growls, a stark change from his usual demeanor.

Stubbornly leaning away so that you're not so close, you regard him with suspicious and narrowed eyes. You raise an eyebrow as if to say he's got your attention, however unwillingly.

"Right now, we're both in a tight spot, okay?"

You knew about his dad. Heard the whole spiel from Natasha— who you're learning that while, your best friend, cannot be trusted to keep her mouth shut— about how they weren't on good terms, hadn't talked since Jake got into the academy, and suddenly he calls out of the blue to tell Jake that he'd had enough of his son's playing around and that it was time for him to start thinking about getting married. That if he didn't within the next few months, he'd arrange the whole thing himself.

"You need a place to live—" You shush him, eyes darting to the people around you. You don't need anyone knowing that you can't exactly afford to pay your rent. Jake rolls his eyes because he doubts anyone could hear him even if he was yelling with how loud it is in the bar, but he lowers his voice regardless. "You need a place to live, and I need to get my old man off of my back..." He trails off, as if you should know where he's going with this.

You don't. You're just staring at him with an increasingly annoyed expression on your face, wondering how soon you can get out of this conversation.

He takes a deep breath and sighs.

"Hear me out, okay? What if we get married?"

You had actually laughed in his face at first, and Jake was so dead serious about it that he didn't even dwell on the fact that it was the first time you had laughed at something that he'd said.

"Not a chance in hell, Seresin," had been your second response. But that's the thing with pretty guys, they can be awfully convincing.

It all happens so fast that you have metaphorical whiplash. Next thing you know, you're wearing a brand new diamond on your finger and going out to the bar with his entire squad the night before their deployment.

Of course, they're all a bit shocked at first. You would be too. You and Jake hadn't exactly been even remotely civil with each other just a few days prior. But if any of them are suspicious of your's and Jake's sudden union, they don't let on, all too happy to have something to celebrate before they ship out. Fanboy and Payback have each brought their wives and Natasha her girlfriend as well. You suppose you're expected to mingle with them, maybe shed a tear or two over the shared bond that your partners are going across the country, but you can't really find a way to connect with them so you kind of just avoid them altogether. You do feel bad, sitting there without a care in the world while they all try to offer comfort and reassurance to each other. But you don't really know what else to do because it's not like you're exactly sad.

Thankfully Javy, or as he's known, Coyote, stands up and raises his near empty bottle of beer in the air and saves you from anymore uncomfortable sitting. "I'd like to make a toast! To the newlyweds!" You spoke too soon. The table cheers and raises their bottles in response, all of the attention turning to where you and Jake are sitting. Cheeks immediately flushing, you have to refrain from sinking down in your seat. Jake is grinning, accepting the few rough pats on the back that he receives from Rooster beside him.

And just when you think that's the worst it's going to get, it gets worse.

"Kiss!"

You're not sure who starts it, but like teenage boys, the entire squad parrots in unison.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

At first Jake just laughs and shakes his head good naturedly, shrugging off the insistent urging of his friends, and you think that's going to be the end of it. But the chanting doesn't stop and finally Jake turns towards you. Your face is probably red hot and undeniably panicked. Heart racing, you try to read him in the half second that you're given as he leans and wraps his arm around you. Is he going to kiss you? Are you supposed to kiss him?

Neither option happens. Jake's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side and at the last moment, he turns to press a kiss to your cheek. A series of disappointed boos follow but they are drowned out by clapping for the most part. He's uncomfortably close, closer than you ever would have liked to be to Jake Seresin, but you have to remind yourself that it's all for show. When Jake does turn away, you can still feel the warmth of his lips smeared against your cheek. Even so, he hasn't let go of you pressed into his side.

Your heart still racing, you reason with yourself that if Jake can play the part, you might as well too, and under that pretense, allow yourself to hide your face into his shoulder to conceal it's redness. The smell of his cologne washes over you, and oddly enough, you don't hate it. It's subtle, with a hit of what might be amber, and nothing like the overwhelmingly masculine scent that you would have pegged him for.

If Jake finds your sudden willingness to touch him strange, he doesn't comment on it, likely assuming that you're just trying to make this thing between the two of you seem real. You somewhat reluctantly pull away when Coyote's voice raises again.

"And here's to shooting down some fucking MiGs!"

Again, the table erupts into a chorus of cheering and hollering. You still, allowing Jake to fully pull away from your side while the proclamation rings out in your head. It's a very grounding moment, and suddenly you feel very alone sitting at the table. No one seems to have noticed your shift in mood. Maybe you're the only one put off by Javy's statement because this is their reality. There are people who are not coming home from this mission; everyone just likes to assume it won't be them. You know better.

You can't help it, the words just come out of your mouth. "That's a fucked up thing to say."

It's the first time you've really spoken up the entire night and all heads turn towards you. Based on the look in Jake's eyes, which is a bit apprehensive, as if he knows this is headed nowhere good, you realize you probably should have just kept your mouth shut.

Payback shifts uncomfortably in his chair while the rest of the crew glances around the table wearing varying states of confusion. Their gazes shift from you to Jake, as if waiting for some sort of explanation.

Coyote is the first to break the silence. "Look, sweetheart, that's just the way things are. Here in the Navy, that's a badge of honor. Your boy Hangman here is the only one of us with a confirmed air-to-air kill."

"(Y/n)—", Jake attempts to interject, but you're not about to let him explain himself to you in front of all these people.

You set your jaw and swallow back the anger threatening to rise up in your throat. "Yeah, because killing people is so honorable."

Coyote scoffs. "We're just doing our jobs. And if that means taking down a few planes while we're at it, so be it."

"Your job is to protect people," you snap. "There are people out there who have families—"

"Alright, that's enough—" Jake begins to interject for the second time, but this time it's Coyote who interrupts him.

"Come on, man. You're really going to let her say that kinda shit—"

You stand up. "I don't need his permission to—"

"I SAID ENOUGH." This time it's startling enough to cut both of you off. "(Y/n), what is your fucking problem?" Jake snaps.

You flinch at the harshness of his question.

Your eyes travel around the quiet table, where everyone is holding their breath, and then back to Jake. His green eyes reflect a type of pissed off what would be terrifying if you weren't so angry yourself.

A small, logical part of you knows that he has a right to be angry. You've picked a fight for no apparent reason in front of his friends and he hasn't the slightest clue why. It's not his fault your brothers are dead and you blame the Navy for it.

Regardless, that doesn't make up for the fact that you're pissed off by his defense of what Coyote has said. Even though you probably owe him an explanation, you're not about to answer him when he's just yelled at you. You also know that if you don't say something, he's going to and you'd rather die before letting him tell you off in front of all these people. You abruptly push away from the table and storm off for the bar top. You can hear Jake chasing after you.

"(Y/n)."

You ignore him in favor of heading towards the back door of the Hard Deck, pushing past people regardless of whether they're in your way or not. Being slightly more considerate, you can hear Jake moving much slower as he excuses himself through the crowd.

"(Y/n)—"

You come to a stop once you reach the door, spinning on your heels with a fire in your eyes.

"What's my problem?!"

Behind you, you can hear the loud jesting and jeering of his friends back at the table. They're still ruffled with excitement from your outburst, and Coyote's voice follows your retreating back. "Jesus man, get your girl under control."

I'm not his girl, you want to snap. He doesn't own me.

Jake has stopped a few feet away from you.

"What's my fucking problem?! My problem is that your friends are sitting over there calling murder honor."

Jake sighs harshly though his nose. Shaking his head, green eyes looking up, he begins, "He didn't mean—"

"No. I know what he meant, Jake. You're all a bunch of cowards. You're all too goddamn scared to admit that maybe you're not doing as much good as you thought over there, and so you just justify it by saying all killing is good killing, right?" you spit.

His vibrant green eyes harden but he doesn't respond. "That's some real goddamn honor, right, Jake?" you repeat, angrier this time, wanting more than just some watered down reaction from him. If there's one thing that pisses you off about Jake, it's that you've never gotten anything more than what he's conditioned himself to respond with. It's like he's locked up in this stupid box of his and the most you can ever get out of him is a glance. You want him to be angry with you.

"That's enough." His jaw is tight, and you can tell that even despite his lowered voice and rather subdued demeanor, you've hit a nerve.

"Admit it. Admit that you—“

"(Y/n)." His voice adopts a seriousness that you've never heard from him before. It sounds almost dangerous.

Jake steps towards you and for a moment you think you've won. And then in the moment following that, you actually think that he's going to get physically angry with you. Your heart stalls. Jake's a big guy, a naval aviator, and no matter how good he sells himself to be, he could hurt you if he wanted too. You would never have pegged him as someone who would put his hands on a girl, even after only knowing him for a week, but a man is a man, perfectly ironed uniform or not.

Only he doesn't. Instead he steps into your space and leans in closer than you've ever been before. His hand presses into your back, firmly pulling you into his chest so that you have no choice but to shift closer to him, your bodies molding together. "I said that's enough. They can see us arguing."

The press of his mouth to your ear conceals the exchange of your conversation from the listening table. You can smell his cologne on the starched collar of his uniform.

"I don't care if they see us—" Pushing your palm into his chest, you try to reestablish the distance between you, but like a brick wall, Jake doesn't budge.

"You realize that we have to make this look real?" he hisses. "From here on out, they're watching everything we do. The government is watching everything we do. Do you understood that?" His voice is tense, and it sounds more urgent than angry now.

Standing there, you realize his heart is thumping heavily beneath your palm. His body is uncomfortably rigid, like a scared dog waiting for its owner to show up and see the mess he's made. Behind you, the table has gone relatively quite. Rooster murmurs something along the lines of, "It's a little early for there to be trouble in paradise already."

Someone—Coyote—responds, "I don't think he thought this through, man. They won't last two weeks."

Jake's eyes meet yours, and you know he can hear them too. You swallow, trying to relax a little in his grasp. He's right, you have to make this look real, and fighting right off the bat doesn't exactly look good.

"Are they still looking at us?" You finally ask, leery now to even speak too loud.

Jake breathes a sigh of relief beside your ear, taking your sudden quiet as cooperation. "Yeah, just keep talking, okay? Act like we're working it out."

Despite trying to appear more comfortable than you are, you don't move your hand from his chest. The coarse material of his dress whites rises and falls steadily beneath your palm. It's calming in a sense, and you try to focus on its rhythm rather than the fact that you're so close that you can feel the heat of his mouth beside your ear.

"Still looking?" You ask after a few moments pass.

He hums. "Yep."

"Well then what do we do? We can't just stand like this forever." The longer you stand together, the more details you become aware of. Like the fact that his face is freshly shaven against your cheek and that he must have brushed his teeth before this because his breath smells like Listerine.

"Look at me."

"What?" You ask, your brow furrowing as he pulls away. His hand that had been holding your waist firmly in place lifts to grip your jaw.

"You're going to have to kiss me," he explains, glancing briefly over your shoulder.

"What?" Before you can even protest, he's leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours. Without the time to process what exactly is happening given your state of alarm, all you can do is go along with it. His lips mold against yours in what might be the most borderline tame kiss you've ever had. Despite this, you are reluctantly surprised to note how good of a kisser he is. It's just forceful enough to let you know he's in control but not so much that it's unpleasant. His lips are full and taste vaguely of his mouth wash.

You don't kiss him back.

It makes no difference to the group behind you whether you actually kiss or not; they can't tell from this distance and all they have to do is believe it happened. It's more for your own self preservation than anything. It's one thing to play the part, it's another thing to get caught up in it and catch feelings. And with Jake Seresin, that was a dangerous game to play. You'd already felt it, him prying his way under your skin when he'd held you at the table and the smell of his cologne filled your sense. It would be that easy.

To his credit, Jake lingers just long enough to make the kiss believable before pulling away. Even si, it still feels uncomfortably long. He leans back and you don't miss the fact that he wipes his hand across his mouth. "Sorry," he mutters under his breath, looking away.

"Jake..." you begin, immediately feeling bad, but he stops you.

"Whatever, (Y/n). It's fine." He won't look you in the eyes now. You turn to look over your shoulder, desperate to get yourself out of this increasingly bad situation .

"They're not looking," you say, finding the table now amicably chatting with each other rather than focused on the two of you. The sudden PDA must have finally diverted their attention. "...you can step away now."

"Right," he says, clearing his throat awkwardly. Jake drops his hand from your waist and steps back like he's glad to finally put some distance between the two of you. So much for making this look natural.

You return to the table shortly after, in hand to make it appear as if you've made up and smiling tightly when Bob cheerily welcomes you back to break the awkward silence. Once seated, you drop each other's hand beneath the table immediately. The rest of the evening is spent avoiding contributing to conversations that involve the other. If anyone notices, they don't comment on the fact that the two of you hardly look at each other for the rest of the evening, and somehow you manage to put up an otherwise happily married front.

When a few of the guys finally get a little bit too drunk, specifically Rooster, you're all too happy when Natasha calls it a night. Because they ship out the next day, Jake drives you back to the hotel where all of the married couples have rented out a room for the night. Apparently it's a tradition or something. You make the drive in silence. You let him check into the room and carry both of your bags up, disappearing into the small bathroom to splash cool water onto your face. It helps to ease some of the tension from this evening. Leaning over the sink, you watch the water swirl down the drain.

Is this crazy? This is crazy, right?

Jake is sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands when you step out. He's taken off his hat and suddenly he seems a lot more fragile than he was a few minutes ago. There's a softness to him, something having been previously concealed by the precise styling of his hair and tense pull of his set jaw. Before you can break the silence, he sucks in an uneasy breath.

"Hey, we need to talk about something. Um, you know... in case I..."

In case he doesn't come back.

You swallow, looking down at the ground. After tonight, after he's kissed you, all of this is starting to feel a little bit to real. What the hell happened to pretending? This was all supposed to be pretend. "Jake, please don't do that—"

He stands up from the end of the bed, and you notice the folded paper in his hands. "This is all of my personal information, you know, bank accounts, passwords, phone numbers... Anything you might need if something happens to me." He says it all as if it's so normal, but you can hear the apprehension in the thinness of his voice.

Already, you're shaking your head as he hands you the letter. "Jake, please. I don't want that." Your heart is pounding and all you want to do in the moment is go back in time and never have agreed to do this in the first place. This was insane. What were you thinking? Like you were going to put yourself through this again?

"(Y/n)—“ Jake tries, interrupting your spiral of thoughts.

"I said NO, Jake," you snap, stepping back from him and the letter. There are tears burning at the backs of your eyes, like you might burst into a hit of hysteria at any moment. "I change my mind. I can't do this..."

Jake's eyes glance from you to the paper in his hand and then back to you, and then he drops his outstretched arm with what sounds like a laugh. "Right. Not like we're fuckin' married or anything." He releases a puff of air from his cheeks and runs his hand through his hair like he's contemplating pulling it out. "Do you know how screwed we are if anyone finds out about this? Do you, (Y/n)??" he asks, his voice rising to a concerning level. "We're done!"

"Jake, I—"

He tosses the letter onto the bed and sits back down with a heavy sigh, looking down at his feet. When he finally speaks again, his voice had lowered to a more acceptable volume. "It's a bit too late for you to back out now. If the Navy finds out about this— if anyone one finds out about this, I could lose my job. We could both go to jail."

Silence settles over the two of you as Jake sits on the bed, staring at his feet, and you stand there in the middle of the room, willing your heart to stop pounding in your chest. You need to get out of here before your heart implodes. You turn and grab your coat from by the door.

"Where are you going?" Jake asks, his voice tired and annoyed.

"I need some air," you say, shrugging on your coat and opening the door. He doesn't try to stop you on the way out.

You regret the decision the second that you walk out the door. Now that the sun is gone, it's freezing outside. Your original plan had been to go for a walk to clear your head but you doubt now you'd make it very far. Walking down the stairs and out into the nearly empty parking lot, you look around, considering whether or not you would survive the trek to a gas station. When you realize you've left your phone back in the room, you decide against it. You aren't dumb enough to walk in the dark alone. Instead you head towards Jake's truck, which is parked out by itself at the end of the lot. To your surprise, you find it's unlocked and the door swings open when you tug on the handle. You climb in and the switch to lock the door behind you. Even the inside of the car is cold but at least it's out of the wind. You hug your knees into your check and tuck your chin into them, curling up in the driver's seat to keep warm.

And then you just sob.

It's the kind of sobbing that starts long and drawn out and then escalates into the rapid breathing that happens when you can't get enough air into your lungs and it feels as though there's an entire golf ball stuck in your throat. You haven't cried this hard since you were a kid—since your first brother died. You didn't cry the second time, didn't allow yourself to feel anything the second time because you knew there wasn't going to be anyone to pull you back together if you did.

At least being away from all of this had allowed you some time to forget, even if for just a moment, that they were gone without having to be constantly reminded. You had moved to put as much distance between yourself and the Navy as possible. Because that way life wouldn't get the chance to take another person from you in the same way. Looking at the ring on your finger now, that's exactly the opposite of what you had just done. This was just supposed to be until you could get back on your feet, and if it helped Jake out in the process then great. Now that you think about it, it was stupid of you to think that you would be able to make it through this with out catching feelings for him.

Now you're going to lose him too.

You cry until you almost make yourself sick and then some more. Your sobbing is interrupted every few minutes when you choke on your own air and have to swallow the golf ball that is lodged in your throat so that you can breathe. You're not sure how long you sit there just crying. Surely at least an hour has passed. By the time your sobbing has slowed, your head hurts and your chest aches enough to be sore.

Knock knock knock

You jump at the noise, head shooting up from between the bracket of your knees. It's dark outside, the parking lot just barley lit in a wash of grey by the moon. Even so, you can make out Jake's broad figure in the darkness.

"Open the damn door." His order comes out in a puff of frosty condensation that warms a spot on the window, his voice only partially muffled by the barrier. His shoulders are hunched against the cold, the upturned collar of his coat doing little to protect him from the brutal conditions.

For a while you just stare at him through the window, swallowing back the spit in your throat.

"Open the door," he repeats, knowing better than to think that you can't hear him. If only locking yourself in his car was the solution of all of your problems. Reluctantly, you reach over and click the lock, slowly rolling down the window.

After it stops, you stare at each other through the open car window, separated only by the frame of door that he could now easily reach out and open. His soft brown hair is mushed and in disarray, nose and cheeks tinted pink form the chill. The pleasant green of his eyes is mostly hidden as he squints against the wind.

Finally, you suck in a breathe, your chest shuddering. "I cannot do this," you stress, all of the fear that you've been shoving down now presenting itself in a singular sentence.

Jake sighs, his face softening to reflect a look of sympathy. "Look, I promise you, it's not that bad. You'll come with me to the carrier when I ship out tomorrow, we'll hug each other goodbye, and then you won't even have to see me for a couple of months. It'll be like none of this ever happened. And when I come back... we'll figure it out. Okay?" His voice is soft and understanding, like he's talking to a child.

You stare at the dashboard, your stomach still churning anxiously. "That's not what I'm... It's not you, Jake." Quite the opposite. "I lost my brothers to the Navy. Both of them. And I don't think I can take losing anyone else."

Immediately Jake's face falls as he puts everything into place. Your initial distaste for him, your furious outburst at Hard Deck, your reluctance to have have anything to do with the Navy... "I—God, I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I had no idea."

You shrug, calming down now that you've finally let go over everything that you've been holding in. "I asked Natasha not to tell you. I just thought that I could get over it so what was the point in even telling you?"

The wind blowing into through the open window is bone chilling and so you can only imagine how cold Jake is standing outside the car. For a while there's only the sound of his quiet breathing.

"Nothing's going to happen to me, (Y/n)," he says into the darkness.

"How can you be so sure?"

Hands shoved into his pockets, body braced against the wind, he shrugs. "I'm not. But if I didn't tell myself that every morning, I'd never get out of bed."

Sighing, you pull the handle on the inside of the door. "C'mon, it's fucking cold out there."

Jake huffs as if to say, you're telling me, and grabs the handle to pull open the door. Only instead of climbing in, he steps further inside the door and grabs your head in his cold hands so that your faces are mere inches apart. "I mean it, kid. I'm not going to leave you, alright? You just gotta trust me."

Looking into his eyes, you know he means it. For the second time since you've known Jake, you really see him. Standing before you is the same man that you saw in both of your brothers. Granted, they were much younger than he is now, but you get it. You'd been trying to see him as anyone else other than the brothers you lost, praying that it would hurt less, but you can't make someone into something they're not.

"Okay," you whisper. "I trust you, Jake."

You're awake hours earlier than what you're used to in the morning, but that's only because you had glanced at the alarm clock at half past three and realized that you only had few hours left with Jake. The both of you had returned to the hotel room and changed in comfortable silence, slipping into the single bed together without a word. Jake had reached over and pulled you into him without so much as a second thought. Now his body is draped heavily on top of yours, his nose tucked into your hair as your fingers trace along the bare skin of his exposed back.

You switch between staring at the ceiling and watching the numbers change on the alarm clock, trying to think about anything other than the fact that Jake would wake up in about an hour, you'd drop him off at the carrier at six, and that would be it. You'd only just gotten him and now you were going to have to let him go.

When Jake's alarm does go off, you're more emotional than you thought you would be, but Jake seems to be fine, dutifully putting on his uniform and carefully packing all of his bags, so you try to put on a brave face. You move slowly, dragging out the process of getting dressed as long as possible just so that there's no excuse to leave for the dock any sooner than you have too. After you're done getting ready, you watch him shave once and then again for good measure before he ultimately decides that you've both wasted enough time putting off the inevitable.

The drive there is silent as well and would have been unbearable had Jake not reached over the consol to reassuringly squeeze your hand. He doesn't let go of it until you pull into the crowded port. Between people trying to get their things on board and a bunch of teary goodbyes, it's beyond you how you manage to find the Dagger Squad in the midst of the chaos. Fanboy and Payback are saying goodbye to their families while Rooster and Natasha chatter excitedly with an older man also dressed in naval attire, the name plate on his uniform identify him as 'Maverick'. It's all so overwhelming that only when Jake squeezes your hand again do you realize that it's time for you to say goodbye.

Reluctantly, you turn towards him, interlocked hands swinging between the two of you. He does his best to smile, and to his credit, it's not entirely fake. "Well," he sighs. "This it it."

"For now," you add, returning his soft smile as you look up at him.

"For now," Jake agrees, his smile brightening now that you seem to be okay also. He pauses, just staring down at you for a moment before he adds, "Are you going to let me kiss you?"

You smile, answering him this time without hesitation. "Only if you keep your promise."

Jake's large hand comes up to cup your cheek, cradling your chin in his palm as he leans down to you. "I promise," he murmurs before pressing his mouth to yours, perhaps even more tender than he did the first time at Hard Deck. Only this time you reciprocate it, chasing his mouth as you lift up on your toes and run your fingers through the back of his hair. Groaning, Jake sighs into the kiss. It's dizzying and you don't know how it's possible to put all of the passion that you've been holding back into one kiss, but somehow you do. His lips are soft and you have to shove down the urge to grip his hair and demand him for more, because it by some miracle occurs to you that you're on a ship in front of hundreds people.

Jake's the one to pull away, his eyes shining and pink lips slightly more swollen than they were a minute ago. You can't help but laugh, wiping away some of your lipgloss from his mouth with your thumb. "Goodbye, Jake."

"Goodbye, (Y/n). And don't forget, I'll see you soon."

#top gun maverick #top gun fic #topgun maverick #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n

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daysofyellowroses · 2 months

Text

yellow rose

david von erich x afab!reader | 6.2k | 18+ minors dni | tw: language, smoking, mild smut | a reflection on your journey to the altar

so this is a complete and utter work of fiction, based on the very brilliant movie the iron claw. i knew as soon as i watched it i would have stories but i was a little surprised david came to me first. obviously harris dickinson is beautiful but i am down so bad for jaw. i got some kerry ideas too, and i always have a hundred different bear ideas on the go too so more to come | also just to note that because this is totally fictitious, i am choosing to ignore real life events for the most part and live in fanfic delusion. enjoy 🌼

It all seemed to happen in a flash.

In theory, you should have been used to it. Ready for it.

One minute you were heading to a local sports center on a work assignment, then in what felt like the blink of an eye, you were walking up the aisle to marry the subject of one of those photos.

But, to get to how exactly you ended up walking down that aisle, you need to go back to how it all started.

Which, like with most things when it came to you,started with a picture.

📷

From an early age, you loved photography. Capturing a moment in time, being able to look at it any time and relive the moment was always a thrill. Your childhood home was full of framed photos and photo albums, a collection of memories surrounding you.

When you turned 13, your parents gave you your own camera. It wasn't anything too technical or fancy, but it was immediately your most treasured possession. You took photos of everything, family occasions, your friends hanging out, nature, snapshots of Dallas.

As you grew older you threw yourself into studying everything about photography, worked an extremely tedious part time job to save up for a real camera, dedicated yourself to honing your skills. It wasn't difficult, your friends and family kept you busy with birthday parties, weddings, christenings, anything worth celebrating and you were there to capture the moments.

When you were in your senior year of high school, you discovered a fondness for a particular subject of your photos. You had been sitting in the bleachers after school one day with your friends, all you of chatting and laughing about something when you'd looked onto the football field and spotted two of the players talking about something animatedly, one of them slapping the other on the back as they laughed.

You had grabbed your camera, snapping a photo and rolled your eyes playfully as your friends teased you. Sure, the players were cute, but that wasn't why you took their photo. When the shots had developed, you were thrilled that your instinct had been correct. The red of the players jerseys popped, the gold star on their helmets gleaming in the sun. They looked graceful, despite their large frames, natural and charming.

From that photo, you began to base more of your photos on sport. It wasn't an area you had expected to become interested in, but it inspired your photography. Cheerleaders in perfectly formed pyramids, track stars crossing the line, football players clutching the ball to their chest as they threw themselves across the post.

After graduation, you applied for a journalism course, figuring it didn't hurt to have a backup plan and maybe it would get you a gig as a photographer for a newspaper or magazine.

Leaving home was tough, especially when a big going away party was thrown for you, your friends and family coming together to celebrate your accomplishments. When the time came to leave you were sure you'd never cried so much, trying to hype yourself up for the adventure ahead.

It was a lot of fun, being at college, as it turned out. Making new friends, learning new things, having new experiences. By the time it was over it felt like you could back and do it all again in a heartbeat.

You decided to move back to Dallas after you graduated. A job opportunity at a big paper came up, and your friend Pam had found an apartment that came with a spare room so it seemed like the right move.

It was about two weeks later you were tasked with going down to the Sportatorium on a Saturday night to document the latest wrestling match. Every time you went to a sporting event for work, you were accompanied by the senior sports writer, Duke. He was older than your father, far too old for his cheap toupee to be even the slightest bit believable. He wore cheap polyester suits, too much cologne and had a fondness for calling you ‘missy’ and placing his hand a little too low on your back.

You had psyched yourself up to ask Pam to come along, preparing a whole speech in your head. If she was with you then you could avoid Duke like the plague, couldn't possibly leave your guest alone.

Turned out Pam didn't take much convincing at all, in fact she practically jumped at the chance to come along. You tucked her excitement away in your mind, curious to see if the source would reveal itself at the match.

When the day came, you were excited to get some shots of a new sport. From what you'd seen on TV, the Sportatorium was bright and colorful, the wrestlers just as much so. You packed up your camera before getting changed into some jeans and a t-shirt.

Pam had taken one look at you and marched you back into your room, your protests of “But I'm working!” falling on deaf ears.

A compromise was reached. Your t-shirt stayed but a denim mini skirt replaced your jeans and brown cowboy boots replaced your beat up sneakers. You felt a little ridiculous, your job had you in all kinds of angles and positions to get the best shots, the last thing you wanted was to be unable to get a good picture because you'd end up flashing tomorrow's laundry to thousands of strangers.

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, the sun was dipping below the horizon and what seemed like hundreds of cars and trucks were pulling up. People were grabbing beers out of coolers, blasting music from boomboxes, grilling up hotdogs on portable barbecues. You got a couple of shots before Pam was hustling you inside to get your seats. Well, her seat. You told her you'd meet her outside after the match, not that she seemed to be paying attention, her eyes focused on the empty ring.

You made your way down to the ring, keeping an eye out for Duke and ready to sprint back to Pam if needed. To your relief, Duke wasn't in attendance. The junior sports reporter, Brian, had been sent in his place. The two of you weren't exactly close friends but he was much more professional. You got some shots of the crowd, feeling excited to see a match live. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric, like something incredible was about to happen.

When the announcement came for the first tag team, you got some shots of them walking through the tunnel and into the ring, holding their arms in the air and greeting the crowd. Brian walked around the ring slowly, scribbling into a notepad, cigarette perched behind his ear.

Then they announced the next tag team, and you moved to the opposite tunnel to get shots of them. You took a breath as you snapped a shot of the taller one, his wavy blonde hair peeking out from under his back cowboy hat. He was wearing a leather jacket that he promptly tore off before he got into the ring, his back muscles rippling.

You cleared your throat, taking more photos and trying to concentrate on what you were there for.

The bell rang, and once the match started you had no shortage of great photo opportunities. The men in the ring moved with perfect proficiency and style, playing up to the crowd and putting on a spectacular show. You found yourself more and more drawn to the tall blonde, David Von Erich, you discovered.

He was so graceful yet could have these huge men slammed onto their backs, his arms bulging and a cocky grin on his face. Once or twice you could have sworn he caught your eye and winked at you but you were sure it was your imagination.

The Von Erichs won the match, you snapped a photo of the referee holding up the brother's hands as the crowd roared. Brian checked back in with you, telling you he was going to grab some quotes before heading off. You bid him farewell before going to find Pam, heading outside with the rest of the crowd.

“Hey, over here!”

You quickly spotted Pam, smiling as you waved back at her, weaving your way through the crowd to join her.

“Hey,” You smiled, laughing softly as Pam grabbed your arm, a wide grin on her face. “Are you al-”

“Come on,” Pam immediately started tugging you in the opposite direction. “let me show you something,”

You just about managed to maintain your balance and hold onto your camera as you dodged through the dispersing crowd, wondering what exactly Pam was doing.

Before long you had an answer, as you and Pam joined a large group of women hanging around the back door of the Sportatorium. Her keenness to come to the match made much more sense when Kevin Von Erich walked out the door, towel around his shoulders and bag slung over his shoulder. You had never known Pam to look at any man the way she was looking at Kevin.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked, giving Pam a gentle nudge. “Get on over there, girl.”

“I can't, there's too many girls round him,” Pam sighed. “I am not desperate. I'll wait for my time.”

“Saving the best for last huh?” You grinned, watching Pam roll her eyes playfully. “I don't think he's gonna be able to take his eyes off you.”

“You think?” Pam asked, glancing over to you. She looked genuinely concerned and you gave her a reassuring smile.

“I know.”

A little while later, when the crowd had dispersed and Kevin was signing the last couple of autographs, you gave Pam a gentle nudge, smiling as she quickly fixed her hair.

“Good luck,” You grinned, gently squeezing her arm. “Not that you need it.”

You gave her some space, walking over to a trash can before fishing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. You lit one up, glancing over to Pam and smiling as you spotted Kevin heading in her direction. Closing your eyes as you looked away, you took a long drag on your cigarette and felt yourself relax.

“You know it's a bad habit to smoke those things.”

You opened your eyes, finding a familiar face standing close to you. He looked better in person than he did in the ring, if that was possible.

“Well I'm sure you know that it is very rude to keep your hat on in the presence of a lady,” You raised a brow, flicking your ash into the trash can. “I could be deeply insulted.”

“I apologize,” David grinned, taking off his hat and giving you a slight bow as he did. He introduced himself properly, as did you, his hand moving over his heart as he tilted his head. “You know I was just joking, there's worse habits to have than smoking.”

You nodded, smiling a little. “Like creeping up on strangers?”

He laughed and you felt a flutter in your stomach. You willed it away, not wanting to be another simpering fan.

“You want one?” You asked, holding out the box of cigarettes. David looked like he was considering saying yes before he shook his head.

“No, thank you. I shouldn't.”

“Fair enough,” You nodded, putting the box back in your purse. “It really is a bad habit. I'm trying to quit but I got some time to kill so..”

“Oh yeah?” David raised a brow, glancing around the quiet car park before looking back at you. “What you waiting for?”

“My friend,” You gestured in the direction of Pam, who was deep in conversation with Kevin. “she's a big fan.”

“So I see,” David grinned, looking over to his brother and Pam before focusing his attention back on you. “and uh..what about you? Are you a big fan?”

You thought about it/made him wait for a moment as you took a drag on your cigarette and raised a brow.

“I'm just here for work.”

“Really?” David looked a little surprised, lightly rubbing his jaw. “What kinda work do you do?”

You held up your camera with a smile before flicking your cigarette in the trash can. “I’m a photographer,” You explained. “for a newspaper.”

“Oh right,” David smiled, folding his arms. “I'll have to buy that, see if you got any good ones of me. Which paper is it?”

“It's the uh..huh,” You grinned as you glanced over to Pam, watching her laugh as Kevin said something to her. “Excuse me for one second.”

You turned slightly, holding your camera up and focusing it on Pam and Kevin. You felt very aware of David's presence behind you, trying to hold your hands steady as you snapped a picture.

“I have a feeling I may need that one day,” You smiled, settling your camera strap back over your shoulder and turning to David. “They're cute together, don't you think?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” David nodded, his gaze staying on you. “She ain't the cutest one here though.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile on your face and multiple flutters in your stomach.

“Oh shut up, that's such a line.”

“I'm deadly serious,” David grinned, holding his hat over his heart. “I promise.”

You were about to say something when Pam appeared, linking her arm with yours and giggling as she went to drag you away.

“Hang on one second,” David called, making you look over your shoulder with a smile.

“You never told me the name of your paper!”

“It's in Dallas,” You called back, walking forward with Pam, the two of you giggling. “If you find it, call me!”

📷

A couple of days later you were in the newspaper office, going over some photos for an upcoming article when one of the secretaries knocked on the door and asked for you.

“Call for you,” She explained, gesturing to the phone as you went to her desk. “They didn't give a name, just asked for you.”

“Okay, thanks Margaret,” You smiled, feeling a slight knot in your stomach. It was extremely rare someone called you at work, and you tried not to think the worst.

Going to the phone, you picked it up and took a deep breath before holding it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello yourself.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief as you realized who was on the other end of the line, a small smile on your face.

“How many papers did you have to call before you found me?”

“That's not important.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin.

“More than two?”

“..five.”

“Oh wow,” You grinned, turning more towards the wall. “That's perseverance right there. I'm flattered.”

“Well so am I,” David replied. “I saw those pictures you took. They were great, I wanted to thank you for catching me at such a flattering angle.”

“You're welcome,” You smiled, glancing over your shoulder before looking back and lowering your voice slightly. “That the only reason you called six newspapers? Angles?”

“Not quite,” You could hear a cheeky tone in his voice, your fingers holding the phone cord. “I was hoping you'd come see me again. You don't have to take pictures this time, if you don't want.”

“As it happens I am coming,” You raised a brow with a smile. “Your brother beat you to the invite. He invited Pam, who invited me. So I'll be there.”

“Well damn,” David laughed softly. “I guess I'll just have to come right out with it then..ask you on a real date.”

“Oh?” You grinned, feeling like a teenager as your cheeks grew warm. “How about we make it interesting?”

“I'm all ears.”

You took a breath, trying to calm your heartbeat. You were aware of Margaret behind you, knowing she'd be listening to every word.

“Alright, if you win..I accept. If you don't, no deal.”

“Hm, sounds fair,” David replied. “I guess I'll have to try a little harder this week. I'll let you get back to work, alright?”

“Alright,” You nodded, trying not too smile too widely. “I'll see you Saturday. Bye.”

You hung up the phone, turning around to Margaret with a polite smile.

“Thank you, I'll be in the office.”

Once you closed the door and found yourself alone, you let out a laugh, shaking your head and wondering what you'd let yourself in for.

📷

Saturday came around quickly, and most of the day was given over to preparing. At first you were just helping Pam, heading into store after store to find the perfect outfit. Then you started looking for yourself, realizing that you wanted to put in just a little more effort since you were going to watch, not work.

As the evening drew closer, the radio was on full blast in the apartment as you and Pam cracked open a bottle of wine and started the beauty process. You couldn't shake the slight nerves that were settled in your stomach, but they were joined by an excitement.

“Oh,” Pam turned from the bathroom mirror to look at you. You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, carefully painting your toenails. “Did he ever get in touch? David? I completely forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, he found me,” You grinned, laughing as Pam gasped. “Asked me to come along tonight. I told him I was already coming.”

“And?” Pam asked, waving her hand at you. “What else? Did he ask you out?”

“I told him he can take me out if he wins,” You smiled, holding the bottle of nail polish up in the air with a laugh as Pam rushed over to hug you.

“This is so exciting! We're gonna be like sisters!”

📷

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, it seemed to be even busier than it had been the previous week. You stepped out of your truck, smoothing out your outfit. It was only a black off the shoulder top and some denim jeans but you hoped it still looked good.

You linked your arm with Pam's as the two of you headed inside the bustling arena, your heart beating faster as you took your seats. As it turned out, watching the match was totally different to photographing it. You couldn't move about, couldn't pick one thing to focus on. It was all happening, bright and loud and thrilling. You found yourself cheering and whistling with the crowd, you and Pam both jumping up and screaming when the Von Erichs emerged victorious.

When it was all over and you were enjoying the fresh air, you couldn't help but find it adorable when Kevin couldn't keep his eyes off Pam while he signed autographs. Once he was free you gave him and Pam some space, almost immediately bumping into David.

“Hey winner,” You smiled, resting your hands in your back pockets. “Nice angles in there.”

“I hope someone was there to capture them,” David grinned, taking his hat off. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, watching David for a moment, smiling as you realized he almost seemed a little nervous. “I really enjoyed it..though I'm a little curious about something.”

“What might that be?” David asked, moving his hat from one hand to the other.

“Well,” You smiled, stepping closer and looking up at him. “Are you going to honor our agreement?”

📷

It was only when you were putting on your coat to leave the apartment when it dawned on that you hadn't actually been on a first date for..a while. There were some relationships in high school, a couple in college along with some dates and flings but the last had been before you graduated.

You tried not to think about it too much, you were just going for dinner and seeing a movie. Worst case scenario, you and David didn't end up hitting it off and the world would go on as it always did. But part of you was hopeful that something would come from the date, that it would develop into something really great.

Grabbing your purse, you left the apartment and went downstairs to hail a cab, excitement starting to outweigh the nerves.

📷

“No way,” You laughed, your eyes going wide as you placed your hand over your chest. “You did not do that.”

“Yes I did,” David nodded, a serious look on his face before he laughed. “I was so sick afterwards. Never got found out though. Mom just went and got Kerry and Mike a new egg each. I couldn't eat chocolate for like three months.”

“I'm not surprised,” You laughed, picking up your drink. “You can't say you didn't deserve it.”

David laughed, nodding as he picked up his own drink.

“I certainly did deserve it. Moment of weakness I guess.”

You took a sip of your drink before setting the glass down and glancing around the restaurant. It was a steakhouse, but it felt like a nice one. Elegant lighting, candles on the tables, classy music playing. No sawdust or butcher paper to be found.

“So do you think your brothers ever found out?” You asked, sitting up a little and resting your hands in your lap. “Or did you tell them?”

“No to both I'm afraid,” David sighed softly, lightly tapping his glass as he set it down. “Though I think Kev knew it was me..” He smiled to himself as he looked down. “Never said anything if he did know, though.”

“Seems like you two are close,” You smiled, your heart picking up a beat as David looked back at you with a warm smile.

“We are,” He nodded. “We all are. I can't imagine life without them, they're amazing.”

You felt your heart swell, trying not to get too swept up in your emotions.

“That's so wonderful,” You smiled. “It's amazing that you're all so close.”

“Yeah,” David grinned, sitting up a little. “I just feel so lucky every day, like..” He stopped himself, lightly rubbing his neck.

“You know what, I feel like all I've done is talk about myself, my brothers, I don't want you to think I'm self absorbed or nothing, I promise I ain't like that.”

You shook your head, reaching your hand across the table and grinning when David held it with his own.

“I know you're not,” You insisted. “You're wonderful. Now tell me more about your family, I want the good stories.”

You ended up missing the movie, but neither of you cared. You talked until the restaurant was closing, David's jacket around your shoulders as you walked out into the night air. He gave you a ride home and kissed your cheek by your door like a gentleman.

“I had a great time,” You smiled, carefully taking off David's jacket and giving it back to him. You could tell he wanted to tell you to keep it, and you knew why he couldn't.

“Maybe you should win another match, take me out again.”

“It's a deal.”

📷

Going to matches became a weekly event. You and Pam would cheer and cling to each other, laughing at how silly you were being. You took pictures for yourself, wanting to remember every moment. Afterwards you would meet David and Kevin, go for burgers and debrief on the match.

It wasn't always easy for David to visit you, so you called each other when you could, spending an hour or two talking about anything and everything. You drove down to Denton a couple of times, meeting him for something to eat or just for a drive.

He was always a perfect gentleman, opening doors for you and holding your hand, never pressing for anything more even though you suspected he was just as keen as you were to take things further.

You decided to nudge things in the right direction one night when you had gone down to visit him. Pam had come with you, and David and Kevin had taken you to the lake with their brother Mike, who you instantly adored.

The afternoon was perfect, gorgeous hot weather and ice cold beers, floating along in the water and feeling like nothing else could possibly matter but being in that moment.

You were sitting on the edge of the dock while the others drifted along on the huge rubber float, snapping a couple of shots of them before setting the camera aside. David appeared next to you, sitting down and resting his hand on your back. You leaned into the touch, his arm moving around your shoulders.

“I love this,” You smiled softly, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “If every day was like this..what a world.”

“It's perfect,” David murmured softly. “I can't think of anything better.”

“Hm, I reckon I can,” You smiled, opening your eyes and looking up at him. His eyes were already on you and you grinned as he took a breath and leaned in, his lips feeling like heaven against yours.

You could hear the cheers and whistles, smiling into the kiss and feeling satisfied beyond belief.

📷

“You ready for this?”

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Absolutely not.”

You flicked on the indicator and headed up the long drive to the Von Erich home, glancing over to Pam in the passenger seat.

“At least we're in this together.”

It was incredibly daunting, the thought of meeting David's parents and his brother Kerry, who had recently come home. He had told you countless times that they would love you, but it didn't ease your nerves.

You were relieved to have Pam with you, that she was in the same boat. Mike met you both at the door, giving you both a hug and chatting away as he led you outside.

It was a flurry of introductions, handshakes and hugs and the most perfect kiss from David that had you instantly relaxing.

By the time everyone sat down for dinner, it felt as though you had known the Von Erichs forever. The food was delicious, the weather was beautiful, the company was amazing. You felt David reach for your hand under the table when his parents talked about how they met, your heart swelling.

When Doris forbade Mike from going to a gig that night, you glanced across the table to Pam smiling as she gave you a slight nod.

📷

“Alright, drive, drive!”.

You put your foot down, laughing as you glanced in the mirror and watched your boyfriend and his brothers gradually haul themselves into your truck. You turned the radio up when you left the driveway, rolling down the windows and cheering as you hit the road.

It didn't matter whose house the party was in, it was big and roomy and most importantly, fun. You had a beer in your hand before you knew it, hitting the makeshift dance floor. The brothers spun you and Pam around, laughter filling the air as you moved to the music, not a care in the world.

When Mike took to the stage with his band, you stood with David behind you, his arms wrapped around you. You all cheered as the song started up, swaying along as you held your hands over David's.

Later in the evening you gently took David's hand and pulled him into a quiet corner, whispering in his ear and enjoying the slightly tipsy smile that crossed his face, a flash of worry passing his eyes.

You led him upstairs, finding an empty bedroom and closing the door.

“We..we don't have to,” David insisted as you slipped off your shoes. “I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“I don't,” You smiled, walking to the end of the bed and unzipping your dress before turning back to David. “But I will think you don't want to if you don't get over here in the next thirty seconds.”

He didn't need to be asked twice.

You laughed as you were picked up bridal style and carried to the top of the bed, letting out a soft moan as David laid you down and gave you a tender kiss.

Despite your suspicions that David was possibly a virgin, you didn't ask when he didn't bring it up. He was a little apprehensive, but once you took the lead he seemed to tap into his ring persona and the confidence in his movements had you struggling not to scream as your nails dug into his back, the sheets, your body crying out for more.

“Oh god,” You moaned, touching David's cheek and looking up to meet his eyes as your legs hooked around his waist. “Baby..’m so close, please..”

You closed your eyes as he pushed deeper into you, his forehead resting against yours.

“Me too,” He murmured, his hand reaching for yours. “Fuck..fuck..I love you.”

Your eyes went wide at the confession, a deep moan spilling from your lips as you felt a wave crash over you, feeling David fill you moments later. You moved your hands to his neck, meeting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“I'm sorry,” He sighed, looking down. “I shouldn't have-this isn't the time..”

“No,” You insisted, a smile spreading on your face. “It's the perfect time. I love you, too.”

📷

“Mind if I get one of those?”

You turned around, letting out a sigh of relief as you spotted Kerry walking towards you.

“Of course,” You smiled, taking the box of cigarettes from your purse and handing it over. “Thought you were David for a second.”

Kerry laughed as he accepted the box, shaking his head.

“Nah, your secret is safe with me. Just needed one huh?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, flicking away the ash. “I'm so nervous. I don't know why, it's not like I have to walk down the aisle in front of hundreds of people wearing this,” You raised a brow, gesturing to your dress.

As much as you adored Pam, and as thrilled as you were that she was getting married and had asked you to be her maid of honor, you did not exactly love the dress she had chosen. For a start, it was a mix of dusky pink and peach, the skirt was so big you wondered if you fit down the aisle, and the sleeves were almost the size of your head.

“I feel you,” Kerry nodded, looking down at himself as he lit his cigarette. “I think we all feel a little ridiculous. But you know the worst part?”

“Go on,” You smiled, lifting up the puffball that had slipped down your shoulder. “shock me.”

“I gotta do this three more times,” Kerry sighed, lightly prodding the flower attached to his suit. “At least you get to choose your wedding dress. I'm stuck in velvet hell.”

You laughed, shaking your head and taking a drag on your cigarette.

“Oh come on, it ain't so bad. I think I heard Mike say he would never have velvet.”

“Really?” Kerry raised a brow, looking over to you.

“Promise,” You grinned, holding your hand over your heart. “He said he'd have velour.”

“Oh fuck off,” Kerry laughed, shaking his head and holding his hand out. “Gimme a mint and get out of here, I'll velour you.”

“I'd like to see you try,” You laughed, getting a mint from your purse and flicking your cigarette away before walking over to Kerry. “See you inside. Don't destroy that flower.”

📷

“Isn't she beautiful?” You smiled, watching Pam and Kevin sway on the dancefloor, smiles etched on their faces as they moved to the music.

You felt the urge to take a photo, but a professional had been hired for the day. Pam had insisted she wanted you to be in the pictures, not the one behind the camera. You had been a little disappointed, but you gave her the photo you'd taken from when she and Kevin had first met, and her reaction made it all worth it.

“She really is,” Doris nodded, looking over to you and taking your hand with a smile. “And you will be too.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Let me go get us another drink.”

You stood up, making your way over to the bar with a smile. While you and David weren't officially engaged, it was kind of an unspoken truth that when Pam and Kevin had gotten married, David would propose to you next. Kerry wasn’t seeing anyone, and while Mike was dating a girl, they had only been together a few weeks.

So, you knew you were next up.

As you waited for your drinks, you smiled as you felt a familiar presence by your side.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

“Yes,” You grin, turning to face David and giving him a kiss. “But I don't mind hearing it again.”

As the song ended and a new one started up, more guests took to the floor.

“Should we go for a twirl?” David asked, gently stroking your cheek. “or maybe not quite a twirl, that dress will take out anyone who comes close,” He teased.

“Oh shut up,” You laughed, lightly swatting him. “I'm getting your mom a drink, if I don't take you out first.”

“I'll take it to her,” David smiled, leaning down to give you a soft kiss. “Then you owe me a dance.”

📷

So, here it is.

The big day.

You thought at times it would never come, but it's here.

A lot has happened, of course. Weddings need buildup, after all. The guests can only talk about how beautiful you look and wonder who did the food for so long. You gotta give them something.

So what's new? It's been a minute, a luxuriously long engagement.

The Von Erichs have gone from strength to strength, reaching the top of the wrestling game. You still go see matches, when you can. They're global now, you always feel a rush of pride when you watch them on TV at some crazy hour.

Pam is a world class veterinarian, an incredible mother to the most gorgeous baby, and still the best friend in the world.

Kevin won the WHC belt, is the most devoted husband, father, brother, brother-in-law and son. He and Pam keep saying they're going to buy a ranch in Hawaii for everyone to live in, and you like to think maybe it could be true.

Kerry insists he's your favorite brother-in-law, and you insist that you couldn't possibly choose a favorite but deep down you think he's most likely right. He makes you laugh the most, teases you and makes stupid jokes to cheer you up when you need it. The two of you have sneaky cigarettes and know what the other is thinking when you look at each other.

Mike has just signed a recording contract with his band, and you tell him all the time he better come to you first with concert tickets. He's going to be the next one engaged, he's so loved up and it's adorable.

Then there's David.

The yellow rose who called up six different newspapers just to ask you out, who let you into his life, who loves you unconditionally and makes you so unbelievably happy that you wonder what you ever did without him. You would never have pursued your dreams without him and his family, that's something you know. And let's not forget his proposal, which was the most beautiful moment of your life.

David had taken you on a surprise trip one night, insisting that you were just going for a drive after you'd been out for dinner, but you knew it wasn't true. You found yourself at the lake, David's hand in yours as you walked down to the dock, which..was decorated with candles in jars, rose petals, a bottle of champagne sitting in ice.

Knowing that you were marrying your soulmate, joining a family you loved deeply, it made you feel so safe, so secure. You quit your job, deciding to pursue your real passion. You bought a gallery in Dallas, and displayed your own work along with other local artists, including your soon to be mother in law. It took time, but it's become a success, and you don't care what any of them say, you couldn't have done it without your family.

Plenty for the guests to talk about, right?

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, Pam fixes your dress and you take a deep breath. Her dress is beautiful, and most importantly, simple.

Before you know it you're walking down the aisle, your heart beating faster as hundreds of faces smile at you, but there's only one you need to see, and when you do it makes everything okay.

You reach the top of the aisle, feeling overwhelmed with love, beaming as you turn to look at your soon to be husband.

“You know it's a bad habit to leave the bride with a veil over her face,” You grinned, watching David gently touch the hem of the silky veil and carefully move it back, a wide smile on his face.

“I do apologize,” He grinned. “Still gonna marry me?”

“Of course,” You smiled. “You look perfect from this angle.”

#the iron claw #the iron claw fic #the iron claw fanfiction #david von erich x reader #david von erich x you #harris dickinson #harris dickinson fanfic #harris dickinson x reader #harris dickinson x you

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lokiondisneyplus · 6 months

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Warning: This story contains spoilers for the Loki season 2 finale, "Glorious Purpose."

Loki ends with its titular god claiming his throne — just not the one he expected.

The Marvel Disney+ show concluded its second season this week, seemingly saying goodbye to Tom Hiddleston's Loki. In an effort to stop the universe from collapsing in on itself, Loki learns to control his "time-slipping," using it to go back further and further in time. With help from Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino), Mobius (Owen Wilson), and O.B. (Ke Huy Quan), he tries again and again to fix the TVA's temporal loom and prevent a meltdown. But every time he goes back, he fails, and he spends literal centuries reliving the same events over and over.

Eventually, Loki admits defeat and chooses to sacrifice himself to save every universe. Walking toward the temporal loom, he grabs the very fabric of space-time and uses it to build a throne of his own, weaving the threads together to create a tree. (It's a nod to the legendary world tree Yggdrasil from Norse mythology.) With that, Loki essentially crowns himself master of the multiverse, watching over every timeline as a lonely god. It's the ultimate selfless act from one of Marvel's most notorious villains — a villain who once sicced an alien invasion on New York to get his dad's attention.

Here, executive producer Kevin Wright breaks down the series' emotional finale — from the throwback line that Hiddleston improvised to whether this is really the end for Loki.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: When did you decide this was how you wanted Loki's story to end?

KEVIN WRIGHT: I think we knew in season 1. Once we were going to do a season 2, we knew that Loki would end up on the throne. That was always the easy thing. The question was: How do you want that to feel for the audience? There's a version that's triumphant and super heroic. There's a version where it's an evil turn. But it was always about the emotional journey we wanted people to go on. It was about building that journey to be as cathartic as possible and to feel like a payoff for six movies and 12 episodes over 12 years with this guy. It was always about building that arc to be as fulfilling as possible.

Most of the episode is dedicated to this sort of time loop, where we see Loki trying over and over again to get things right and fix the loom, almost in a Groundhog Day kind of situation. What was fun about getting to do that endless loop?

Even in season 1, we always wanted to do a Run Lola Run thing, but there was never space for it. So once we started going into loops this season in the writing process, we thought, "Oh, let's finally do it." So much of that is total credit to Paul Zucker, the editor of the episode. That montage wasn't scripted per se. We knew Loki was going to be rerunning things, but it wasn't written exactly the way that it played.

A really fun thing, though, was that our cast — outside of Tom — had no idea what we were doing. They understood that he was rerunning time, but we shot a very different ending to episode 4 that was not the real ending. All the cast thought something very different would happen. We would send them away on lunch breaks, and Tom would take his lunch later, and he would just keep shooting with [directors Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead] with a skeleton crew. There were very few people that fully understood what we were building in that finale. So, for that core team, I think there was a lot of satisfaction when everybody was able to sit down and see how it came together. It just felt like this little secret.

What do you remember most about watching Tom film those final scenes?

Two moments really jump to mind. The first is a little bit of a longer story. There's the scene with He Who Remains, and that was scripted one way. We had this fear, like, "Is this going to feel like we're retreading the same ground as season 1?" Would it be fulfilling? We started shooting one day, and anybody in any creative field will understand this: There are days where the words are right, they way you're doing it is right, but it's just not adding up. Something was missing. We knew we weren't nailing it, and I had to make the call. That is really scary, when your first AD just wants to keep moving, and I said we were going to stop shooting.

Tom went and sat down with our script supervisor and basically did this insane crash course in 30 minutes of every line that had been said on the whole series. Then, he went for a run around the lot at Pinewood [Studios], and when he came back, he was like, "I know what this needs to be now." Then, he and Jonathan worked out what it was going to be, and they sat down with Justin and Aaron and me and Katie Blair, our production writer. They just quickly rewrote this new scene and shot it. It was just the pinnacle of what Tom does. He has such a finger on the pulse of this entire series and how that scene had to go. In a moment, he was able to reconfigure it with all of our collaborators.

The other thing is that final line before he steps out toward the loom, which is the Thor line, which was not scripted. Right before we were going to shoot that, Tom came and pitched it to me, like, "Should we do this?" We were like, "God, why did we not write that?" It was perfect, and it was 100 percent Tom.

I wanted to ask about that line, where Loki turns to Sylvie and Mobius and says he has to do this "for you, for all of us." It's a direct throwback to one of his lines in the original 2011 Thor. So that was a Tom Hiddleston improvisation?

It was 100 percent Tom. We had already done a few takes of the first part of that line, which was, "I know what kind of god I need to be." And on the final take, Tom said, "Hey, can I try this?" As soon as he said it, all of us were like, "This is going to be the take." It almost gave me Truman Show vibes, that final sign-off, looking straight down the camera. But that story gets to the heart of how Tom is always trying to make things better. We just had to build a series that could give him the framework to have those creative pivots. Everyone would just kind of throw their hands up and say, "Geez, this is why this guy is fantastic."

With Loki in charge of the multiverse, this could affect how (and if) we might see Jonathan Majors' Kang the Conqueror in future Marvel projects. For you, where does this finale leave Kang and his future in the MCU?

I'm going to tread probably infuriatingly lightly, but for me — and I know all the filmmakers agree — we think everything is there on screen. I think all the details are there, and there is a lot that people haven't picked up on, or haven't fully understood what is being said. The key to the future is in that conversation with Sylvie, and this doesn't necessarily undo any of those threats. In my mind, it's what Sylvie said: "At least give us a chance. Let us fight that battle for ourselves and define our own destiny."

I also wanted to ask about that final shot of Mobius in Ohio, where he's standing there silently, watching time pass. Why was that the right ending for Mobius?

In the big picture of the show, we wanted this to feel like a real ending. We wanted to give closure on a number of things, and we didn't want to do anything that felt like it was just teeing up a new story. But you could plant new seeds that could become new stories. My feeling with that scene in Ohio is that it's Mobius overcoming a personal obstacle. He just had to go and look. The show is not telling you whether he's going to stay there, or whether he's going to go back to the TVA. I think both are possibilities. But the important thing was the character growth of him going to do the thing he has been avoiding. I think it took what Loki did to cause Mobius to go, "I have this opportunity. This opportunity was given to me by Loki. The least I can do is go."

So that being said, is this the end for Loki? Is this a season finale, or is it a series finale?

I'm thinking of it kind of like a comic run, and this is the end of that comic run. I know [head writer Eric Martin] has said this a lot: These two seasons were two chapters of the same book, and we wanted to close the book. That was a challenge from Owen in between seasons: He was like, "Nobody has the courage to close the book! Let's close the book!"

Again, I speak for myself and not Marvel, but I am certainly pitching ideas of where I could see certain stories going. I think there are a lot of stories you can tell at the TVA, and we are just scratching the surface on that. I would love to see more stories with Loki, and I think Tom would continue to play this character until he is Richard E. Grant's Classic Loki [laughs]. But I don't think that means you need to have this story every year or every two years. It's about doing it when we have a good story to tell. I would love to keep working with these filmmakers.

We built a really awesome team, and if Loki is Breaking Bad, maybe there's a way for this team to keep telling stories with our version of Better Call Saul — whether that's with Sylvie, with the TVA, or with a new Loki. But we only want to do that if we have the right story and it can be just as fulfilling as this one. After all, you can't be the God of Stories if you're not going to tell more stories.

#loki s2 #kevin r. wright #interview #tom hiddleston #owen wilson

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thegoodwitchglinda · 7 months

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meaningful memories

Vil Schoenheit x reader

You were one of Vil’s costars back when you were both children, and when you meet again at NRC you remind him of the happier parts of his childhood.

—————————————

All the rage recently was about the new transfer student that would be arriving at NRC today. Although it wasn’t obvious, Vil was excited to meet you, with all the gossip going around. Vil could be rather adverse to rumours, considering they usually weren’t the truest - and that prove itself quite quickly as many of the rumours surrounding you and your awaited arrival were contradictory.

However, one thing that did stay consistent was that you were apparently something of a celebrity, and that usually required some modicum of grace. Therefore, Vil wanted to keep a lookout for you, as it made you all the more likely to land yourself in Pomefiore. Which you did, unsurprisingly.

That didn’t mean you arrived without any surprises, however. After your dorm was confirmed, Vil had your introduction fully planned - he was going to meet you as soon as possible and make sure you understood the rules and weren’t going to disrupt the order of his dorm - that would be a disservice to the rest of his classmates.

After all, perfection takes work, and it’s hard to function in chaos.

And yet, that was exactly the state of his brain once he first saw you. He almost didn’t recognise you at first - you’d grown up and looked different now. But you had the unmistakable shine of a perfectly polished diamond, a beauty that mirrored on the inside out.

He forced himself to regain his composure, “Hello, it’s good to see you again.” He couldn’t help but smile as he said it.

You laughed at that, “Yeah, well I did say you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me, huh.” It was nice seeing him again.

That triggered a memory, so vivid, that even though his brain flicked through the image of it in a few moments, he felt like he was reliving the whole thing again.

It was the backstage of a set you two were filming a movie on, the first day of filming had just wrapped up. You could tell something was wrong with Vil, you’d become quite close to him if only by frequent proximity, so you followed him backstage. At first he didn’t notice you, you were being fairly quiet.

He practically slid down the wall and resigned himself to staring off at nothing in the distance. It seemed out of character for him, to say the least. He looked vulnerable, which was especially strange for the always on-guard perfectionist that was your co-star.

It was wrong to just stand there and watch him, without his knowledge, but you couldn’t just leave him like that either - so you did the best your young mind could think of at the time.

You’d rushed to turn the lights off and yelled “boo!” out as loud as you could. Safe to say you scared the lights out of him - and he wasn’t very amused. Thinking back on it, it was definitely silly, but it got his mind off of whatever he was thinking about.

“What on earth are you doing!”

“hi… um, sorry about that, you looked upset and I wanted to cheer you up?”

Honestly, Vil probably would’ve been upset at your actions in most other circumstances, but he found it so ridiculous that it was funny. He found it hard to even accuse you of being unprofessional as he greatly admired your talent whenever you were on set together - so instead he wondered how you could have both. How you could shine and be carefree at the same time.

He’d be mad at it, if it wasn’t what brought him back down to earth.

Clearly you realised something was wrong with him and wanted to help, that was more than what most people realised about him. Almost everyone thought that he was emotionless in his pursuit of perfection - despite being a child, so he appreciated your efforts.

“Why are you sad?”

He was hesitant to get into it, but you’d already seen him with his guard down, so he did. And he’s glad he did. So he told you all about the issues he had with people’s perception of him, his villainous typecast and his ongoing rivalry with Neige that the aforementioned actor was blissfully but frustratingly unaware of. He’d even told you about the group of boys that had tried to attack him just last week over a character he played.

It was awful, no one should have to experience that.

You were quick to envelope him in a startling hug, and he melted into it and the comfort it brought. Perfection came at a price, and you were one of the few people that not only saw him as human, but treated him so. It made him wish that he’d never have to let you go.

As you started to let loose on the hug, he held you just a bit tighter, sending a clear message.

“Hey… you know, I’m not going anywhere! In fact, you’re not even going to be able to get rid of me when you’re finally sick of me!” You were extraordinarily headstrong about it, feeling for the injustice Vil had been served before.

As the memory came to a close, Vil looked up at you with a brighter smile than before.

“Well, I’m glad you kept promise.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #vil #vil x reader #twst x reader #dtw

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sapphiewritesstuff · 1 year

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Namora, Shuri, and Namor NSFW headcanons

breaking my no nsfw rule cause i wanted to write for Namora,, love her so much 😍😍

This was originally supposed to be a post only for Namora but I decided to add Namor and Shuri cause their tags are getting dry as well.

Reblog for pt two!!

Warnings: NSFW, fem!reader, dom! Namora, sub! reader, stress fucking, use of mistress, switch! Shuri, switch! reader, uses of daddy and mommy, punishments (but like the fun sexy kind) overstimulation, slapping/spanking, switch! Namor, switch! reader, public/semi-public, breeding, spit, group sex, cock worship, degradation, not proofread, aftercare included in all!

Namora

-first of all, Namora is a commanding and dominate woman, that doesn't change in bed

-However, I can see her being into more vanilla, sweet sex than anything else

-She spends her days as Talokans most celebrated warrior, commanding her army so when she gets home she just wants to relax with you

-Loves rubbing your thighs, your curves, ect as she leaves kisses across your body and loves it when you do the same for her

-MASSAGES MASSAGES

-Likes being called ‘Mommy’ and ‘Mistress’, but loves being called by her name

-She loves hearing you moan out her name

-Suck on her tits, look up at her and whine out ‘Mommy…’ and she’ll do whatever you want

-She’s always very gentle with you except for whenever she’s stressed

-She never degrades you, but gets a little bit rougher with her love making

-She’ll throw you onto the bed, place a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet as she relives her stress using you

-An absolute goddess at aftercare

-She massages anything that might be sore, gets you food, and insists that you get some rest

-The best warrior and lover <33

Shuri

-She’s an eater ohhh my god

-She loves to spend hours between your legs, she gets pleasure from it

-She also loves to sit on your face

-Has a thing for quickes, she’s busy with her lab work and responsibilities but wants to be around you and cherish you like you deserve

-When you finally get a bunch of time alone, she can go for hours

-She loves overstimulating you

-Is very playful and competitive in bed, makes you fight for dominance

-“You’re so cute struggling like that, baby. Go on, keep it up.” She teases as she effortlessly pins you down

-AHHW SUDBD NEED HER SO BAD

-sorry bout that

-She loves being called daddy, Princess, anything that makes her feel powerful

-She’s a brat tamer, doesn’t take any shit from you

-Whenever you’re acting up she places a hand on your shoulder before commanding you to behave

-Now… her as a sub

-She’s a brat and a powerbottom

-loves punishments so she keeps on acting out to see you pissed off

-“Look at you, you’re all riled up. Does my behavior piss you off that much? Hm?”

-loves it when you slap or spank her to shut her up

-She can be a sweet service submissive sometimes, you just have to break her in enough

-She’s mommy and daddy <333

-Aftercare with her consists of cuddling, pillow talk, and a nap

-After the nap you two will head to her lab for some more time together, or you two will watch a movie

-The queen of Wakanda and taking care of her partner <33

Namor

-look me in the eyes and tell me this man doesn’t like to be worshipped

-It inflates his ego so much to see you on your knees as your worship his cock and beg for him to pay attention to you

-thinks you look so pathetic like that and he loves it

-Like Shuri, he’s also a brat tamer, though he’s a little bit more harsh with his punishments

-won’t stop until you’re crying and apologies are spewing out of your mouth

-He has both a degrading and praise kink, he'll spit in your mouth and make you slut yourself out one moment and the call you his beautiful queen the next

-Also loves it when you degrade or praise him, make him kneel for you and beg

-Cup his cheek and call him a good boy and he'll melt into your touch

-If you were comfortable with it, he would love to have an orgy or have group sex one time

-idk if cucking is the right word for this? But he would have a thing for watching others fuck you or having you watch as he fucks others

-(if you were up to it, of course. He’s perfectly content with just you. After all, why did he make you queen if you didn’t fulfill his every need?)

-It makes him crazy possessive and he’s addicted to the feeling, you don’t mind because it means you get your brains fucked out by him afterwards

-likes to have sex on his throne, it’s up to you if there is an audience

-BREEDER. Cums inside you every time and only inside you just so he can knock you up

-He wants to have a family with you, he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman ever with the most fertile body

-He’s also extremely possessive as I said, so he would want to make everyone know your his and he’s yours by getting you pregnant

-Speaking of claiming, he gives you tons of hickeys and love bites and expects you to give him some too

-He is SO VOCAL!! Either moans like a little bitch or is grunting in your ear muttering praises

-100% serious during the act, only the occasional chuckles when he sees you squirm

-He likes it when you sit on his face

-He’s a freak (affectionate)

-Has to learn how to give better aftercare

-He does love you, and he does take care of you after lovemaking, but he’s rough which leaves you sore and sometimes leaves marks

-He’ll cuddle you, clean you up, and command his servants to get some food so he can hand feed you, but he doesn’t tend to any physical things he may have caused

-He isn’t used to how fragile surface dwellers are!! -He’ll notice sooner or later, and he feels horrible for not properly taking care of you from the beginning

-“My king it’s fine, you don’t hurt me!”

-“What husband am I if I don’t take care of you? It doesn’t matter, I will tend to you no matter what.”

-I love him

-Will massage every cramp, kiss every hickey or lovebite, and rub your ass after a harsh spanking

-He is able to take care of any other injuries, but very rarely does he actually injure you, you two have a safeword system for when you need to tell him to calm down

-He loves it when you pet his hair and pepper his face in kisses, he’ll fall asleep instantly

-He’s a god in bed.

#namora x reader #namora #wakanda forever #wakanda forever x reader #mcu x reader #black panther #shuri x reader #namor x you #namor smut #shuri smut

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cmncisspnandmore · 6 months

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Study Breaks

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, NSWF, Swearing, P in V Sex, Praise kink,

Beta Reader:

When you first met Stiles, you were both in diapers. Your mothers were childhood friends, they did everything together, they were maids of honor at each other's weddings. They found out they were pregnant a month apart, Stiles was older than you by exactly a month. You grew up together, you did everything together. You were there for him when his mom died, you attended the funeral with him. Bravely holding his hand the entire time, you put on a brave face for him when he would cry. You held him in your small arms when he couldn't sleep because he kept reliving the last moments of her life. Watching her fade away, it almost destroyed him.

Now 9 years later, you’re both 17, starting your junior year of highschool. That alone would be enough to make anyone stressed. But the fact that you were constantly dealing with the supernatural beings in Beacon hills on top of it. You were both stressed out.

Between dealing with Scott being a werewolf, and the Kanima, terrorizing everyone. Plus a certain Hale alpha making a new pack using teenagers. You were about ready to bite someone's head off. Not to mention this year was the most important year grade wize for college. You had no room to fail this year, especially if you wanted to get into a good college.

You lay across Stiles’ bed, your feet crossed as you look down at the history homework in front of you. The words blur together from staring at it so long. You rub your eyes, sighing softly as you put your head down on the open book.

“You alright?” Stiles asks, looking over at you from his desk, and you lift your head looking at him.

“I feel like I've been staring at this forever and haven't read a single thing,” you groan, closing the heavy book and shoving it harshly off the side of his bed. It slides to the floor with a heavy thud.

Stiles grabs his drink from his desk and watches you over the rim of the can, his knee bouncing. “How about we take a break?” He suggests, taking a sip of his soda.

“I can’t, I need to finish,” you sigh, sitting up. “You know how important grades are Junior year.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at you,”And your sanity is important too. Why don't you take a break and then go back to it? It’ll make you feel better.”

You pull your knees to your chest, looking at him for a moment. You chew your bottom lip as he puts his soda can down on the desk, and swivels in his chair, turning towards you fully. His long legs outstretched as he crosses his arms across his chest. A small smile on his face as he watches you debate it in your head.

After another long moment you let out a breath, “okay, fine.”

Stiles gives a small cheer as he stands from his chair and comes over to you, settling next to you on the bed. His back against the wall, legs out in front of him. His shoulder bumps yours and you can't help the smile that breaks out on your face.

“So what do you want to do? We can watch a movie, or just talk. I feel like i haven't seen you in forever even though we spend almost everyday together. Between everything going on with Scott, Derek, the Kanima, and school. I haven't had time to actually talk to you.” Stiles says softly, as you lay your head on his shoulder. Something you have done a million times, in your years of friendship.

“I know, I feel like it's never just you and me anymore. It’s always you, me and scott. Or you, me, Scott and Allison. I'm honestly surprised one of them hasn't called us tonight to drag us off somewhere to do something.” You whisper, trailing your hand up and down his red hoodie sleeve.

Stiles turns his hand over on the bed, exposing his palm to you, you trace patterns into his palm, something you have done since you were kids. You used to just sit next to him and draw patterns into his skin for hours. It soothed you, now, whenever you and stiles were sitting together, he would turn his hand over so you could draw patterns. It was an instinct for him now, oftentimes not even realizing he had done it.

As your fingers trail along his palm, Stiles leans his head against yours. The vanilla scent of your shampoo, settling the every present anxiety in his chest. He would never admit it out loud, but you were like his own anchor. Whenever you were around, he was able to focus more. He wasn't terrified of the unknown as much when you were around because he knew you would always stay. There wasn't anything he could do that would cause you to run. You have proven that time and time again. It was something Stiles was grateful for, especially lately.

You turn your head ever so slightly so your cheek is pressed into the soft fabric of his red hoodie. You let your eyes fall closed as you inhale the amber and musk scent of his cologne filling your lungs. Your fingers pause their patterns and you slide your hand into his. Hooking your fingers around his, holding his hand gently. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, sure you have held hands plenty of times. You held Stiles’s hand more than you held your own mothers as a child. But lately, things have felt different between you two.

There had always been the what if thoughts. What if you dated? What if you kissed? What if you were more than best friends?

There was this underlying tension lately.

Probably because of what Allison and Lydia had said a few weeks ago at lunch. They had mentioned that you would make a cute couple. They were surprised you hadn’t dated already, but you knew Stiles was helplessly in love with Lydia so you laughed it off.

Stiles had too.

Until now, when you're sitting shoulder to shoulder, his hand in yours, his fingers tightening around yours ever so slightly. His cheek resting on the top of your head, yours pressed against his shoulder.

“Y/N?” Stiles whispers, and you tip your face up. Your y/e/c eyes meeting his light brown ones. His cheeks slightly pink as he looks down at you.

“Yeah?” You ask softly, your eyes flickering between his, as his flit between your eyes and your mouth. Your heart hammers in your chest as his free hand comes up to cup the side of your face. He slides his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing along the top of your cheek bone. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans down, his lips brushing against yours softly.

Your cheeks flame as he kisses you, your eyes sliding closed as he guides you closer with his hand on the back of your neck. You lean forward, pressing your lips against his more as you sigh, your entire body relaxing into him. Your lips move softly against each other, your hands coming to rest against his chest. You fist the fabric of his hoodie, as you drag him closer. Stiles shifts, laying you back against the bed, holding himself over you with his arms. His hips settled against yours, as he nips softly at your bottom lip. Eliciting a small moan from you, Stiles smiles against your lips.

He pulls away slightly, breathless as he looks down at you. You can't help but blush and smile, trying to catch your breath.

“Are you okay with this?” He whispers.

“More than…” You whisper, leaning up and capturing his lips in yours again. Your hands slide under his hoodie and shirt, your nails skimming across his stomach. The muscles flex and tense under your hands. Soft moans leave your lips as he nips and sucks on your bottom lip. Stiles hand grazes the bottom of your shirt and you gasp, as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your waist.

Sparks of electricity sizzle across your skin as Stiles’ fingers skim up your waist to brush along the skin of your ribcage. You tug the bottom of his shirt and Stiles sits up on his knees, settled between your spread thighs as he pulls his shirt and hoodie off in one smooth movement. You bite your lip as your eyes rake over his chest and abs, he was lean, with defined muscles from playing Lacrosse. Even though he didn't get much time on the field during games he still stayed in shape.

Stiles leans down and kisses you once more before he tugs your shirt up slightly, and you lean up on your elbows. Balancing in a half sit up position as you tug your shirt up and over your head. Leaving you in your lacey black bra, Stiles lets out a small groan as his eyes trail down your chest.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispers as he leans down, kissing you roughly. There's more passion behind the kiss as his arms rest on either side of your head. The kiss becomes a flurry of clashing teeth and tongue.

Somewhere along the line you both end up under his sheets, bodies bare of clothes. Stiles hovers over you, his knees between your thighs. Stiles trails a line of kisses down your neck, nipping softly at the skin there. You moan softly, as one of his hands skims down your chest between the valley of your breasts towards your stomach. His fingers brush along your waist as before his fingers slip between your folds.

“Stiles… Please,” You whimper, your eyes closed tight as he eases a finger into you. Slowly he begins to thrust his finger in and out of you, working you until you’re breathless.

“Shhh baby, gotta open you up for me first.. Don't want to hurt you,” he whispers against your ear. His tongue flicks out to trace the shell of your ear, as he adds a second finger. Your slick coats his fingers, each thrust of his fingers inside of you makes the pleasure pooling in your lower stomach coil tighter.

“Look at you, so wet for me,” Stiles whispers,”Such a good girl,”

You can't help the lude whimper that leaves your mouth, you reach down, hands wrapping around his wrist, stopping his movements.

“Please, i need you,” You pant, turning your head towards him, your tongue licking along your bottom lip. Stiles smiles down at you, before leaning in and kissing your full lips. His lips leave yours a second later, as he reaches over to his nightstand and pulls open the top drawer. He grabs a foil packet and holds it between his teeth. You watch through half lidded eyes as He sits up, the sheet falling from around him.

Stiles tears the condom open with his teeth, before rolling it down his long, thick cock. Your mouth waters as you watch, you attempt to squeeze your thighs together to create some friction. Stiles’ eyes meet yours and he resumes his position, hovering over you. One hand gripping the base of his cock as he settles between your thighs. He slowly pushes forward, the tip of his cock bumping against your entrance. He slowly sinks into you, a low moan rumbles in his chest.

“Fuck, Stiles.” You gasp as he bottoms out, filling you. There's a delicious burn as he slowly starts to thrust in and out of you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight.” Stiles grunts as he picks up his pace, his hips hitting yours with each thrust.

“Don't stop,” You gasp as you grab the sides of Stiles’s face, bringing his lips to yours for a brief kiss. Stiles’s head drops into the crook of your neck as he pants against your skin. A layer of sweat clings to his skin, as his hips hit yours in a bruising pace.

Your nails rake down his back leaving red nail tracks across his pale skin. You’re reduced to nothing more than breathy moans as your orgasm peaks. Stiles senses your closeness and snaps his hips against yours harder. The hard thrust of his hips tips you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you with a loud moan of his name.

Stiles’s thrusts become sloppy, as his own orgasm teeters on the edge. You lean up and kiss and suck along his neck to his ear. “Let go baby, please, come for me.” you whisper in his ear and Stiles’s thrusts a few more times before he stills inside of you. His cock twitching as he spills into the condom.

Stiles pants and pulls out of you, before he climbs off the bed and cleans himself up, he grabs a towel and hands it to you. You clean yourself up before throwing it off to the side and laying back on the bed. Stiles grabs a pair of boxers and pants and pulls them on before handing you your underwear. You pull them on and then reach over grabbing his hoodie off the floor before Sitles climbs into the bed. He lays behind you and pulls you back against his chest. His hands snaking under the hoodie and his palm rests flat against your lower stomach. His arm anchors you in place.

“See, I told you taking a break from studying would be worth it,” he whispers in your ear.

‘Mmm, totally worth it…” You whisper as your eyes flutter closed.

#teen wolf #stiles #stiles stilinkski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #smut #teen #wolf #beacon hills #x reader

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prodagustd · 2 years

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ghost of you | myg

Summary: After a few months Yoongi starts to think that his feelings for you are getting out of his control, but they never were in the first place.

this is part three of so it goes: series masterlist

—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader

—rating: +18

—genre: friends with benefits (kind of? they're in love) to lovers, fluff but lots of angst!!

—warnings/tags: just cursing.

—words: 4.8k

a/note: Hello friends!! This is the shortest part i've written, but I hope you like the angst. It was difficult to write the dialogue and I hope it makes you angry!!! or sad!!!! as always, feedback is very appreciated, it makes me want to keep writing 😁 you are welcome to discuss the chapter in the asks. pd if you want to be in the taglist let me know.

What is love? And what does it look like?

Yoongi couldn’t remember half of the names of the romcoms you made him watch since you met him, he put himself in your shoes and tried to understand How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days. He didn’t like The Notebook at all, but he loved 13 going 30. He laughed watching Crazy, Stupid, Love and asked if you found Ryan Gosling attractive.

“Not really,” You answered “He’s not my type but he’s cute here.” He nodded and kept watching the movie.

Yoongi should have known that you weren’t just his fuckbuddy when he started to invite you to his apartment just to watch movies and eat pizza. You were supposed to be naked under him as he fucked you stupid until it was time for him to take you home. You weren’t supposed to be wearing those pink pajama pants and laying on his chest as you watched some movie with Lindsay Lohan and Chris Pine.

Did you find Chris Pine attractive?

“Yes!” You confirmed “He’s cute with glasses and he’s on The Princess Diaries 2”

“I don’t know that one.”

“Have you never watched The Princess Diaries?” You asked, wide-eyed.

“Do I look like someone who watched something called The Princess Diaries?”

“You’re about to.” You threatened.

He sighed, but as soon as you woke up the next morning you made him watch the first part, and when it finished you watched the second one with Chris Pine. As he tried not to get jealous of a movie character (the fact that you sighed everytime he appeared didn’t help) he thought he didn’t know what love looked like, he didn’t know how to see it coming, no amount of romantic movies could teach him about love.

The memory of the moment he realized he was in love knocked on his door every night since you left his apartment that weekend. He remembered your red lips and the words they spoke and wished he could read between them, wished he could relive that night one more time just to see if he missed something, a clue that could help him solve the riddle in his mind.

Yoongi thought love looked like you and Holly sharing his bed, he thought it sounded like you saying his name in a whimper at night. It felt like your hands covering his when it was cold, It tasted like your strawberry lip gloss.

For a while he thought he had control of things, he thought he didn’t have to worry about what he said at Nayeon’s birthday. Yoongi should’ve known that things were out of his control when you asked about his birthday.

Yoongi didn’t like his birthday too much. When he was a kid he liked the presents and the cake but as he grew older the feeling started to wear out, presents started to disappear and his mom was far away in a different city to make him a cake. When he met Namjoon and Hoseok it changed, they forced him to go out and celebrate but he still felt that cloud of awkwardness that came with the passing of the years, like he was too old to celebrate.

“It’s just another day.” He would say.

Maybe it was the fact that Yoongi had to grow up quickly, not having much time for birthday cakes or colorful birthday parties, but when you noticed his birthday was just around the corner, you tried to make him say it.

Rolling on his bed with your phone in your hands, you put your head on his shoulder as he texted Hoseok about the track they were working on.

“You are a pisces, aren’t you?” You asked him, knowing damn well his sign.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.” Yoongi answered without taking his eyes off his phone.

“Do you know your rising?” He locked his phone and looked at you like you just asked him to solve a math problem.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your rising sign, Yoongi.” You said rolling your eyes, he was such a grandpa.

“I don’t know my rising sign, I don’t even know what that is.”

“Okay, what time were you born?” You asked, already looking for an internet page that could easily calculate Yoongi’s natal chart. Then, you started to explain to him what a natal chart was.

“I don’t believe in all that stuff.” He simply answered with his hands on his phone, typing a message to his mom that said “Mom, do you know what time I was born?”

Yoongi’s mom answered in just a few minutes, you typed his location, the time he was born and his birthday: march 9th, that was just three weeks away.

“You’re an aries rising…” You said scrolling through the chart, he looked curious, trying to understand the weird graphic shaped like a circle that showed on your phone.

“What is that?” He asked.

“Well, you know you’re pisces, that’s your solar sign which can say a lot about you but not enough. Your solar sign represents your inner self and rising your external self, like inside you’re a pisces but outside you show as an aries.” You explained to him “Which is quite interesting, you show like you’re fiery and strong but on the inside you’re emotional and sensitive.”

“You’re like, psychoanalyzing me now.” He laughed.

“See, it’s real.”

“I never said it was.”

“Anyway, your moon is in Virgo and Venus is in Aries, how about that?”

“Venus?” Yoongi asked again, you looked at him like he made a forbidden question, already feeling your cheeks burn.

“Venus is the planet of love.” You almost whispered, like it was a secret “Quite complicated, you want things right away and get bored easily.”

“How do you know all of that?” He asked again, bringing you closer to him by hugging your waist.

“I don’t know anything, but Nayeon does, she talks about it all the time and I learned some things.”

Yoongi nodded, taking his eyes off you. Then, he can’t help but ask one stupid question:

“What’s your venus?”

You bite back a smirk before answering.

“My venus is in taurus. So don’t get your hopes too high, we’re not compatible.”

You heard his laugh right next to your ear but then, nothing else. Suddenly it seemed like you remembered the main goal of the conversation.

“Your birthday is in three weeks.”

“You’re smart, I see.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing, it’s a tuesday. I have to work, you have to go to school. Probably just… I don’t know, sleep three hours more, that would be a good present.”

You rolled your eyes again.

“You should be doing something. You don’t turn twenty-eight everyday!”

Yoongi didn’t know, but you started to plan his birthday right at that moment.

“Come on!” You insisted. “You can say it’s just a dinner and everyone would know that after eating they have to leave.”

“I have to feed them, too?” He asked, laughing.

“Oh my God, Yoongi, you’re really that boring?”

“Not wanting to feed my friends on my birthday doesn’t mean I’m boring.”

“Yes, that means you’re boring. That’s literally the definition in the dictionary, look it up.”

He sighed again, thinking for a few seconds.

“Okay, I’ll be inviting them to eat. But as my birthday present I want you to cook for me.”

You looked at him, happy that you convinced him, grabbing his cheeks and pressing him a short but loud kiss on his lips.

“That’s the only thing you want?”

“Mmm… Maybe you in a babydoll, too.”

An ugly loud escaped from your mouth, making him laugh with you.

Three weeks later, you kissed him on the cheek and whispered the third happy birthday of the day before leaving his bed. Hours later when you finished your classes you looked for him in his studio with a box full of chocolate cupcakes in your hands.

He thanked you with a smile, grabbing your hips to sit you on his lap. As he chewed the first one he asked,

“These aren’t yours, are they?”

“No, these are from that lady friend of mine.”

“Grace?”

Grace was an old woman you had met in a pastry course months ago, you always envied her skills, she never seemed to struggle. Instead of hating her and her cupcakes you decided to be friends with her and steal all her secrets.

“Yes, I asked her to make them for your birthday, you know cupcakes aren’t my thing.”

“Tell her thank you.”

“I will, she wished you a happy birthday.”

Yoongi smiled and as you shared the cupcakes he imagined your conversation with Grace. Did you tell her it was your friend’s birthday?

You arrived at his apartment shortly after and he helped you place the food and drinks on the table and together waited for his friend to arrive. Yoongi couldn’t help but smile the whole night and towards the end of the dinner he looked at you and asked you if you were going to stay the night.

“If you want to.” You answered. He kissed you and he tasted your strawberry lip gloss.

When everyone went home you waited for him sitting at the edge of his bed. He grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

“Are you my present?” He asked.

“If you want to.” A mischievous smile tugged from the corner of your lips.

He took off your blouse and kissed your neck, you heard him scoff.

“What?”

“I’m a bit disappointed.” He confessed “About the babydoll, you know?”

You punched his arm “You’re kidding.” Yoongi’s shoulders started to shake as he laughed.

“Maybe for my next birthday. Or christmas.”

Yoongi felt like he was floating on a cloud for a whole week. You were next to him the whole time but he couldn’t help but feel that something was about to go terribly wrong.

Maybe things started to go wrong way before, but he felt it for the first time at one of Jungkook’s gatherings at his house. It was just him,Jungkook, Namjoon, Hoseok, Nayeon and you, everything was okay until Namjoon asked something.

“What about your girlfriend, when do we meet her?” He asked Jungkook.

“She’s not his girlfriend yet.” Nayeon answered for him. Everyone stared at her.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook questioned her.

Poor boy.

“Have you asked her?” You asked this time.

“Well… no, but..”

“Then she’s not your girlfriend.” Jungkook and every boy in the room looked at you like you just insulted him.

“Does it matter?” He was bold enough to ask.

“Of course it does.” Nayeon supported you.

“It’s important for a girl to know if a guy wants the whole deal.” You said.

Jungkook seemed to be one of the most attractive men in the world yet he still didn’t know shit about girls, but the worst thing was that Yoongi realized that he didn’t know shit either.

Of course he knew you weren’t his girlfriend, but he thought there was an unspoken agreement about your relationship. The bad part about unspoken agreements was that you couldn’t talk about them, you can’t talk about the terms of them, you can’t discuss them, you have to act like they don’t exist.

So where did that leave the two of you?

“Wouldn’t it be dumb to ask her?”

“You are dumb for asking that.” Nayeon informed him.

“You wouldn’t have an anniversary date otherwise.” You added.

Yoongi could see Jungkook made a mental note of asking his not-girlfriend to finally be his girlfriend. Then, he felt himself sinking in the couch next to you, feeling like he was staying behind, dragging you with him.

You came back to his house like every other night, laid on the bed laughing as you remembered a joke Hoseok made and how red Nayeon’s face turned because she couldn’t stop laughing. You told him that no other man was capable of getting more than a scoff from her. Yoongi managed to giggle and got in bed with you.

There was a heavy weight on his chest again, but no actions or words from you were capable of easing him this time. He hugged you from behind like it was the last time he was going to do it, like you were about to get up and leave. He fell asleep feeling like he was hugging the ghost of you.

How selfish he was, he thought; you woke up the next day and didn’t leave the bed until he did, it was one of those special mornings where he asked you to stay and you did. You looked at him with shiny eyes and he knew you felt the same for him, how many people could look at the person next to them and say the same thing?

Yoongi knew that people thought you were completely opposite from him, but he also knew that was not true. You both passionately loved music, you liked the comfort of silence, cooking together, every old sitcom airing after midnight that no one watched except the two of you. You liked driving around and going to the movies, you laughed at the same jokes and liked to help your friends whenever they needed it without complaining. You were similar and yet, he wished he could be a little more like you. He wished he could look at you the same way you were looking at him that morning without wanting to run away and hide forever.

Coward.

He was a coward, he couldn’t escape from that.

When he left you at your apartment he came back to his own and as he walked down the hallway he couldn’t help but feel he was walking towards the guillotine, towards a home which every corner reminded him of you but you weren’t there. His sheets smelled like the soft perfume you were wearing the night before and your coffee mug was freshly washed on the counter. He looked at your slippers, asking himself when he decided that to buy you a pair of slippers was normal? And when did he let you buy those curtains for him?

The next days were like hell.

He needed some time alone to think.

Yoongi and you almost never fought. You couldn’t call them fights, it was always a misunderstanding or something silly.

You remembered one time when Yoongi was upset with you because you forgot a date he had planned. It was okay, you thought it was a different day and you said sorry.

Two months ago he ruined all your notes when he spilled coffee all over them while he was trying to mess around with you. You got upset but it was okay, it was an accident and he helped to save some of the pages afterwards.

You almost never fought, why would you? Maybe Yoongi barely texting in the past four days could be a reason, but not really, he was working on this big project with Namjoon and Hoseok, you couldn’t blame him.

You texted him about it, just in case.

[You]: Is everything alright? Just checking.

[Yoongo]: Yeah, just tired from work

[You]: Okay, take care of yourself.

[Yoongo]: I will.

On Friday you decided to go to his apartment before he arrived from work. Using the spare key he gave you, you opened the door and took off your shoes before realizing the mess that his place was. Was he this busy?

Holly came running to greet you, he looked at you like he knew something that you didn’t.

“What happened here, Holly?” You asked, squatting down to greet him too.

There were a bunch of clothes in the chairs, shoes all over the place, two empty boxes of pizza on the table and those were the things you could notice at first glance. You figured you could help him, do a nice thing if he was stressed with work, he would have done the same thing for you.

You dropped your bag on the couch and started picking up some of the clothes, throwing them in the laundry basket or folding them to put them in his room. Holly followed you around as you put Yoongi’s shoes in their place and made the bed. You saw a few beer cans next to his music equipment, you grabbed them and threw them in the trash. It was hard to remember a time when Yoongi was so caught up with his work that his place ended up looking like this, you felt bad for not checking up on him sooner.

After an hour you sat on the couch, satisfied when the place didn’t look like a mess anymore. Yoongi didn’t have candles in his house but you wished you could light one after cleaning the place, so you made a mental note to buy him one. He would laugh at it at first because he’s not the type to light candles, but with time you would introduce him to the world of candles and he would like them, you would laugh at him then.

Holly laid his head on your lap and both of you waited for Yoongi to arrive.

You heard him opening the door a few hours later. When he entered you saw a very pale and very tired Yoongi. When he saw you he jumped a little, surprised to see you there.

“You scared me,” He murmured as he took off his shoes.

“Sorry, I thought it was okay if I… dropped by.” Your voice sounded hesitant, for some reason he didn’t look like everyday Yoongi. But he did not look tired, he looked exhausted. “Have you eaten?”

“Uhm… No…” He said as he looked around the living room, pressing his lips in a straight line, he stared at you like the mess was supposed to be there. “There’s some left overs in the fridge if you want. I’m gonna go ahead and try to sleep.”

You frowned and got up to follow him “Wait, have you been eating lately? You look very pale, Yoongi.”

“Yes, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry.”

“It didn’t look okay when I got here.” He opened his wardrobe and stared at it for a second.

“You didn’t have to do this.” He mentioned in a low tone.

“It was no problem, you said you were tired and I wanted to help.”

“Yeah but…” He said grabbing one of his tshirts “I didn’t ask you to.”

His words took you by surprise, you noticed he tried to sugarcoat them with a scoff but it didn’t work, it made it worse.

He disappeared in the bathroom without giving you a chance to respond to him. After a few seconds you heard the sound of the shower and then, nothing, just your thoughts.

What happened for him to be in such a bad mood? He always said thank you, no matter what.

You wait on his bed, thinking of what to say next.

When he came back he said nothing, you knew he was not going to.

“Is something wrong?” You asked and Yoongi looked at you then, bare feet wearing a blue blouse he had never seen before, wearing your hair up in a ponytail like you never did, looking like a foreigner on his bed when you were supposed to feel like home.

“No.” He answered.

“Then, what was that?”

“I just… I didn’t ask you to come here and take care of me. I don’t need it, that’s all.” He murmured, avoiding your gaze.

“I didn’t come here to take care of you, I just wanted to do something nice. Are you upset about something?”

“I already told you no.”

You take a second to think, you surely didn’t think Yoongi would be bothered by this. He was not the type of person who would be annoyed if someone touched his things, he didn’t care if someone looked into his wardrobe, certainly not you, who stole his clothes all the time. Have you done something that may upset him lately? You tried to think, but he seemed okay when he dropped you home the last time.

“You don’t sound like nothing is wrong…” You insisted.

Maybe a rational person would get up and leave, thinking that maybe he needed some time alone, but you weren’t quite the rational person, you were stubborn and you were worried about him.

But he just sighed as if he was already tired of the conversation, already tired of you.

“You know, I don’t want you to… confuse things.”

A pause.

“What do you mean you don’t want me to confuse things?” You toned changed and he noticed, but he couldn’t turn back now.

“You know what I mean.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in the room. You stared at him but he didn't stare at you, you tried to look for his gaze but you couldn’t, he ran away from you.

“I don’t know, actually.” You murmured.

“You don’t have to feel responsible for this.” He tried to explain “You don’t have to feel like you need to do these things, we are not, I’m… You’re not my girlfriend.”

You felt your stomach drop, his words echoed in the room and then, a moment. Reality hit your face because he was right, he was not lying, you weren’t his girlfriend, but why did it hurt when he said it like that?

The rational person would choose to leave, but you chose to be angry and stay.

“So you think that because I folded some of your clothes I’m acting like your girlfriend?” You spat.

“In general, yeah.” He just said.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He retracted himself “I shouldn’t have said that, but I mean it when I say that I don’t want you to confuse things anymore.”

Yoongi tried to act calm, but everytime he spoke it made you feel angrier.

“No, you shouldn’t have said that. You shouldn’t tell me not to act like your girlfriend because what have you been doing these past months, Yoongi?”

It was weird to see you angry. Yoongi had seen you sad, upset, happy, disappointed but never angry. When you were sad he wiped your tears and told you everything was okay, when you were upset he tried to make you laugh and forget about it, but he didn’t know what to do when you were angry, especially if you were angry at him.

“Well, maybe I should have been more careful and put limits to this, you’re right. That’s why I don’t want to talk about these past months, I…” You take a big step until you are facing him, his words get caught up in his throat. Maybe he knew you were right about more than one thing, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“Too bad.” You said “Because I do want to talk about these past months, like what the fuck was that whole thing at Nayeon’s birthday party and what the fuck is this?”

He raised his head and looked at you after a long time, he looked at you like you should have known, you should have been smarter.

You weren’t smart enough.

You sighed deeply, staring at his face you realized there’s no right answer for your questions, just a bunch of messed up, senseless reasons. It was a test and you failed. You felt it, it’s time to go home.

You took a step forward and tried to reach his bedroom door but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist and putting you back in the place that you were.

Let me go already, you thought.

“You know I can’t make any promises.” He said. For a moment you thought you saw a glimpse of the Yoongi you knew, but it disappeared in a second.

Yoongi always talked like that, for a while it flattered you but now it just made you want to vomit.

“You know how much I like that movie.” He would say. “You know I don’t like my coffee too sweet.” or, “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

You know, you know, you know. But sometimes you didn’t, even when you should have.

“But you did.” You answered “Countless of times you did, and now you want to act like you didn’t, like I invented everything in my head because I confuse things.”

You felt your eyes fill with tears. You tried hard not to cry but it was difficult to keep talking.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

You wanted to scream.

“No, Yoongi.” You stopped him “That’s exactly what you meant. I was patient, I waited after you made me meet your friends, I waited after you made me meet your brother and I waited after Nayeon’s birthday but now I realize that I looked like a fool the whole time.”

“I never asked you to!” He exclaimed, you close your eyes as if that would make him disappear. “I never wanted you to wait for me, I told you I’m not built for this and you did whatever you wanted.”

A silent sob escaped from your lips but he didn’t stop because of it, he didn’t lean forward and tried to wipe the tears falling down your face. He stood there and waited for you to say something.

You took a step back and tried to look at him.

“Stop talking to me like that.” You said “You’re an adult, we both are. You should talk like one.”

Yoongi stares at you, paler than ever, not expecting what you were going to say next.

“You told me your ex girlfriend broke your heart, that you couldn’t trust people like that. The next month you gave me the keys to your place. You told me she was an alcoholic and almost destroyed your relationship with your family and friends, then you introduced me to your brother and every single one of your friends. You told me you can’t make any promises but on Nayeon’s birthday you told me I was the only one you wanted. I tried to stay away from all of this but you keep looking for me and don’t misunderstand, I would never stay if you don’t want me here, but what was all of that? Why are you acting like I’m the one who confused things when you were the one who confused me?”

Your face was all wet from your tears but he couldn’t say anything, he was speechless because how could he explain that he was a coward?

“Were you lying on Nayeon’s birthday?” Your voice trembled. “Why?”

“I wasn’t.” He confessed “But it’s hard to talk about it right now, I need time.”

You looked around the room, you stared at the bed, the mirror, his clothes that were yours as well, the space he had made on his desk next to him for you to study and the plant you gave to him. You knew this was not forever and you were lying if you said you didn’t see it coming. How could you allow yourself to feel at home with him?

The human being is not so complex, and you thought that you were the least complex human being to ever exist. You were weak, you failed the test.

“I can’t allow myself to wait for you anymore.” You whispered, feeling the tears falling down your face. “Not after everything you said.”

You started walking down the hallway and tried to reach for your shoes, you heard his steps behind you.

“No, don’t go yet.” Yoongi stopped you.

“I want to go home.”

“Don’t, please stay. We can talk about it later. It’s just… We don’t have to talk about it now.” He begged.

“I’m leaving.”

“I can fix this. Stay, please. It’s late, you don’t have to leave.” There was a certain despair in his voice, but you didn’t understand it. You couldn’t connect this Yoongi to the one who told you all those horrible things. You were too tired to try.

You wiped your tears with the sleeve of your blouse “I don’t want to stay here anymore. I don’t want to stay with you, I don’t want to see you.”

In his eyes you could see that your words hurt him, but you didn’t care, he did it first.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and I’ll leave you alone for the night if you want but please, stay. Stay and we’ll think about it and talk about it later.”

He’s not willing to let you go, not tonight at least. You wipe your tears once again and think about it for a second. Then, you said,

“You know something? In my mind you needed to say just one thing for me to stay, and just one thing for me to leave. But not this, never this.”

You start walking towards his room again, feeling like the dumbest person on earth, coming back to the place where he destroyed you just a few seconds ago. When you reached the door you closed it behind you.

Yes, you stayed the night, but when the morning came you left before he knew it.

taglist: @scqrl3tte @kimseokjinbangtan @bluesharksandfish @minmin2022 @minvlush @bids97 @cowboylikevicky @sugainmybowl @jiimtaee @jjkmspace @localmoonchild @itsfinallymyyearhenderson @tarahardcore @kookstempo @yoongimentita7 @jwlmnbt @almosttoopizza @geauxlsu79 @floriiansgrave @artgukk

#min yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts au #min yoongi one shot #min yoongi x oc #bts smut #min yoongi x reader #fic: so it goes #yoongi one shot #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #one shot #fic: ghost of you

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lifeontoast · 1 year

Note

hello! I'd like to request something with Jasper (Twilight) where him and the reader are just spending time together. Hanging out, picnic etc. Something where reader tells him "sometimes I'd love to be a tiny person, living in your pocket". I hope this makes sense 😭

Pocket (21/3/23)

Jasper Hale x reader

SUMMARY: Jasper and the reader are hanging out in the forest one day. You have a peaceful, restful time together. (By the way the reader is human, and Alice and Jasper are just siblings in this)

A/N: thanks to the anon who requested this! So sorry it’s taken ages, but hope you enjoy :)

…

The two of you just fancied getting away from life for a while. That was why you found yourselves strolling through the cool forest one sunny day. The sunbeams danced on Jasper’s face, sparkling and shining like the stars. He swung a picnic basket in his arms, refusing to let you carry it. Always the gentleman.

As you walked, you talked, about this and that. When your next date night would be. Movies you could watch. Books you could read. It seemed like you had walked for hours; the edge of the forest you had entered from got further and further away until you could hear the drone of traffic no longer, only birdsong and the sound of a gentle stream. You kept looking at each other, smiling every time you did so. All the time you were thinking ‘how did I get so lucky?’, and you were sure he was thinking the same thing. That was the beauty of yours and Jasper’s relationship: you two were absolutely perfect together, and you knew for absolute certainty that you would spend the rest of your days with him. Alice knew too. She had come to you one day, having just seen it, practically bursting at the news. You were the first person she had told, and you asked her to tell Jasper, but nobody else. You wanted to keep your piece of paradise to yourselves for the moment. You would tell them later, when the two of you had had time to talk about your options. Alice happily demanded to know when the wedding would be, and you laughed, telling her you weren’t sure yet. That day felt like years ago, and you genuinely wondered once again, as you had done many times, when that special day would be. It was going to be soon, you felt it. Jasper wouldn’t want to wait. As soon as you had graduated high school, you were going to do it. Even if it wasn’t the huge wedding Alice had planned, or the small and intimate one you’d planned, you were going to do it.

‘Y/N, darlin, where shall we sit down?’ He asked you, his quiet southern lilt pulling you out of your daydream.

‘Wherever you want, Jas. Here look as good a place as any.’ You replied quietly.

You sat down on a mossy rock by a babbling stream, before being pulled up by Jasper, only for him to lay his jacket down for you. You laughed a little; he was such a gentleman to you.

‘Gotta make sure this rock is suitable for my girl!’ He said. He could really turn on the Southern charm when he wanted to, huh?

You smiled as he gave you food from the picnic basket. As usual, Esme had not disappointed; it was stuffed full of all your favourite treats. Usually you felt awkward eating in front of Jasper, but the feeling of happiness washing over you from the quiet, peaceful forest was enough to completely block the awkwardness. He smiled at you, loving your humanity, as it was something he had been without for many years. He missed it sometimes, but almost felt he relived his human life through you.

You began to chat quietly about not very much at all, when you suddenly blurted out:

‘You know, Jas, sometimes I’d love to be a tiny person, just living inside your pocket.’

‘Oh yeah? Well, I’d love for you to live there darlin.’ He laughed.

You smiled at him and gazed into his eyes. He gazed back, and that was it, you were lost in each other. It was the best place to be lost in.

Later on, you began to hear the birds singing a chorus way up in the trees. Jasper shot up in that slightly unnerving way that vampires do. He offered you his hand instantly, and you took it, letting him pull you up. He pulled you close to him, and you swayed to the golden sounds surrounding you. You closed your eyes and let the feeling of euphoria wash over you, and were sure that he felt the same. You stood swaying long after the splendid chorus fell silent, until the day started to turn dark. He suddenly released you, with a ‘look, Y/N! The sunset!’ And he was right. Through the chinks in the forest canopy, you saw the most magical array of colours: reds, oranges, yellows, golds, pinks… every colour on the spectrum was there, and it was beautiful.

The colours gave you courage.

‘Jasper, let’s get married.’ You said suddenly.

‘What?’ He turned to you, obviously shocked.

‘Let’s get married.’ You repeated. He looked at you for a second, then smiled.

‘Yea darlin, let’s get married.’ He replied. He held you ever close as you watched the sunset together, and in your heart you knew that he was perfect for you.

…

A/N: thanks so much for reading! You guys rock!

#lifeontoast #twilight #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale

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casual-tarot · 1 year

Text

Pick a Pile: Messages From Loved Ones Who Have Passed On

Pile 1

Stay strong. I know that sounds like a very cliche message, but it's so much more then that. Stay Strong! Don't give up! Keep moving forward! You can do this! We love you and we are here for you! Support is what I'm getting. Let out your angry tears, scream, cry, yell. Let out all your emotions, they want you to feel. Let yourself mourn them, don't keep it bottled up. Receive help from others. Your loved ones see you hurting and want you to seek love from those still with you. Cry into somebody's shoulder, tell someone what you've been going through, accept those helping hands. You still have people who love you and who want to help you, let them. If they knew you when you were a child or baby, they are remembering you back then. If they didn’t, they are remembering when they first met you, and those early days of your relationship. Either way, they're reliving those moments where they got to watch you grow before their very eyes. The early stages of getting to know you. It's a very fond, very bittersweet fact. We will meet again, they want me to tell you, I promise baby/my love(they may have called you by those nicknames.) I'm also getting the vibe that some parts of the group had love ones who spoke another or more then one language, and that they may be referring to you by a endearing term from their culture. (Mija/mijo comes to mind since I'm Mexican myself) Don't stop loving people. Let yourself build new relationships. Your loved ones do not want you to give up on new love, whether it be platonic or romantic. Some of you may feel like you would be replacing or betraying those who passed by loving new people. They want you to know this is not the case, and that they know you would never replace them. They want you to make new friends, fall in love again, spend more time with family. Take what resonates with you. Overall, they want you to love again, and continue loving. Never let that spark in you die, it's a beautiful thing.

Signs from them; Fire and Flames, Birds, Peacock's, Doves, the Sun and Moon, Egyptian Customs and Deities, Blue Jewels, White Rabbits, White Flowers, Fireflies, Red String, Monkey's, Big Swirling Clouds, Mountains, Rivers, Bamboo, Eagles, Deer, Hummingbird, Horses, Crows, Mountain Goat's, Fairies, Purple Jewels, Cultural Paintings, Green Jewels, Bottled Messages, Last Quarter Moon, Waxing Crescent Moon, Waning Gibbous, Sprouting Plants, Rain, Wattler Droplets, 7, 11, 2, 77, 22, 6, 4, 3, 777, 33, 44, 9, 222, 2222, 22222, 5

Think of Them When you See or Hear; Look for them in your traditions, in dances and folklore and rituals, they are there with you. Filipino Mythology, Watermelon, the Movie Mulan, String Lights and Decorations, Bowls of Liquid, Red Bridges, Disney, Marbles, Marble, Pink Hearts, Hearts in General, Chiron, Mars, Pluto, North Node of the Moon, Aries, Libra, Gemini, Aquarius, Leo, Pisces,

Pile 2

The first thing I think your loved ones want to tell you is that they are in a better place now. Somewhere bright and beautiful and happy. They want to reassure you of that very strongly for some reason, and that they will see you again one day. I think that this loss has been really really hard on you. It could have been recent, or maybe someone you were extremely close with, maybe even both. Either way I feel like this feels like one of those deep dark despair's you think you will never be able to climb out of, and I think your loved ones want you to slowly pick yourself back up. It's going to get better my dear/baby/love, I promise. Get up, please. That's what I'm hearing. They may have called you any number of endearment or nicknames. I'm hearing mom for some of you, maybe you had a child or pet that passed(mom doesn't necessarily only mean female, it could be any gendered parent or gaurdian). In any case I am so sorry for your loss, I know this must be devastating. But you loved ones are sending you so so much love. Like, it's indescribable how much love is being put out there for you. I'm imagining the ghost of them hugging you without you knowing it. Getting strong fire sign energy here, take that as you will. I think they want you to know that their death was peaceful, no matter how it happened. The passing was quiet, like sinking into a pool of water. It didn't hurt at the end, it just felt like going to sleep. I'm getting very emotional here and I think that may be because your loved one is too. I think some of them are desperate to let you know that they were, and are, ok. It's not your fault. Some of them desperately want you to know and understand that. Stop blaming yourself. Some of you are so so hard on yourself when it comes to their passing and they are desperate to tell you that they could never blame you, that none of this is your fault no matter what you think. Please believe me, they say. They want you to know how strong you are for all of this, to know you will get through this because of that strength. They also want you to spend time with friends and family, loved ones. They will help you heal. Let them know what's going on and what you feel, so go and hug them and cry into their shoulders. You are not yet alone, and you never will be either. I think that some of your loved ones need to pass on now, they won't be able to send you as many signs and won't be able to be with you all the time anymore. This doesn't mean they're leaving completely, just that they won't be around as often. You can seek them out, whether that be through tarot, candles, prayer, or even just talking out loud to them, they will still always be with you in those ways. But I think this is a way to help you move on. The less you are reminded of them in everything you see, the easier it will be to breathe, to not be suffocated in their ghost. You will take one deep breathe, and then another, and then before you know it, you are living again. And I think that's all they ever wanted for you.

Signs From Them; Peacock's, Birds, Roses, Thorns, Stars, Night Sky, Crescent Moon, The Ocean, Lakes, Ponds, Fire and Flames, Everytime a Fireplace is Lit, Hawk's, Resolved Arguments(they came in to help bring the peace), Vultures, Red and Orange Flowers, An animal receiving help, Pets getting adopted, Mountains, Elephants, Eels, Happy Families, Pets Bringing Family Happiness, Spirit Animals, The Grim Reaper, Helping Animals, The Sun, Rivers, Salmons, Dogs, Cats(some of you definitely lost Pets, I'm so sorry❤️), Rabbits, Spiders, Webs, The beauty of Space, Your Favorite Childhood Cartoons, Their Favorite Childhood Shows, Bottled Messages, Purple Jewels, Blue and Dark Blue Jewels, Violet Jewels, Paintings, Art, Objects getting Miraculously Fixed/Repaired, New Moon, First Quarter Moon, Waning Gibbous Moon, Full Moon, Rain, Drops of Water, Tools(not sure why this one is a sign for some of you but they really wanted me to say it lol), Whispers, The Wind, I heard "Whispers on the Wind," The Cold, 5, 4, 55, 6, 44, 1, 66, 7, 3, 11, 33, 2, 1111, 111, 555, 12, 1212, 77, 22, 222

Think of Them When You See or Hear; Puzzles, Hair Clips, Accessories, Disney, Rubber Bands, Mechanical Parts and Tools, Art Erasers, DW(from Arthur,) Arthur the show, Francine(from Arthur), Fantasy Weapons, Swords, Daggers, Wrenches, Mechanics, Mercury, The Sun, Saturn, Neptune, Jupiter, Chiron, Taurus(Very Important for Some of You), Aquarius, Gemini, Pisces

Pile 3

Your loved ones are so proud of you! You've accomplished great things and if you feel you haven't yet, you will! I'm imagining an old granny clapping along excitedly at her grandkids, that sort of excitement. These loved ones seem very happy and optimistic. They believe in everything you do and practically leap with joy whenever something good happens for you. Very wholesome energy tbh. I get the feeling that some of these loved ones are waiting for you before they let themselves truly pass on. They want you to be with them as they go/walk through the pearly gates, so to speak(you don't necessarily need to believe in heaven for this to resonate). They don't want you to go before your time(I'm hearing something about suicide, so that might resonate with some of you) and in all likelihood, might even send you back were you ever to have any fatal encounters. It's not your time yet so go live your life! It feels almost like a fond scolding. Maybe some of these were kind grandma's lol. They may have also been a romantic partner. Lot of familial love coming in, either they were part of your family or felt close enough to be. Some of you may have big loving families, so the overwhelming familial love makes sense. I'm getting the vibe of getting big hugs, the ones that engulf you, that your family will give you no matter what, even if you've just seen them the day before. Those hugs that are so tight and full of love that the hugger even has to make a little noise of excitement lol. I think they're giving you a lot of spiritual hugs, even if you don't feel like you need it. This is a really positive energy. Maybe you always knew that this person was meant to go in your lifetime, so it wasn't as hard as it could have been. I get the sense that a lot of you spent so much time with these loved ones, that it made their passing a little more bearable. You got to tell them everything you felt about them and got to spend time and bond with them, so much so that it felt ok, fulfilling. There wasn't anything left to say to them because you already said what you needed to when they were here. You don't have any/many regrets when it comes to them because you were always with them, and did everything you wanted with them. They think you are so creative and capable of so much, and they cannot wait to see what else you accomplish in life! If you haven't moved on yet, though I'm getting the sense that many of you have, they are asking you to let yourself. Heal from this and make beautiful things that you can let out into the world. You can make a change in this world and they desperately want to see it, so that when they see you again they can talk about all you did. I think they want me to tell you that when you do finally see each other again, you're going to get the biggest fucking hug you've ever gotten from them! Awe, that sweet. It's an aggressively loving hug haha. They love you so so much, and can't wait to see you again. But only when it's your time!

(Note: I feel like I'm repeating myself a lot in this reading, maybe they had that issue sometimes, or maybe you do. Either way it feels fond in some way, like it was a quirk you loved about each other.)

Signs From Them; A Good Night's Rest, Storms, Snow, Strong Winds, Willow Trees, True Love, Romantic Love, Love between Two People of the Same Gender, Small white flowers, Birds, Large Birds, Orange Yellow White and/or Red Feathers, Lions, Griffin's, Anansi, Webs, Snakes/Serpents, Round Bushes With Flowers on Them, Laughter, Lighthearted Jokes and Pranks, Resolved Fights/Arguments, Healing Wounds/Injuries, Blood(I'm not sure why I'm getting that for some if you but take what resonates), The Virginia Mary(Lady if Guadalupe, Blessed Virginia, Our Lady, Mother of God/Jesus), Jesus, Red Orange and/or White flowers and Roses, The Sun, Motherly Love, Parental Love, Love From a Guardian, Love to a Child, Mexican Culture, Mexican Customs and Traditions, Fertility, Fields of Flowers, Fields of Fruit Trees, Water, The Ocean, Eels, Powerful and Strong Women, The Feeling Of Ambition, Powerful or Strong Hugs, Swans, Yellow and/or Orange Skies, Birds, Peacock's, Egyptian Customs and Traditions, Birds, Hawks, Crying Women(again, not entirely sure why this one popped into my head), Rivers, Stags, Sheep, Lamb, Dogs, Seals, Eagles, Deer, Butterflies, Purple and Violet Butterflies, Blue/Green/Blue Green Flowers, Pink Flowers, Tropical Plants, Turkey Vultures, Chameleons, Pink Hearts, Pink Jewels, Blue/turquoise Jewels, Wedding Rings, Storm Clouds, Windy Clouds, Fire, Sprouting Plants, Full Moon, New Moon, Waxing Gibbous Moon, 3, 6, 5, 8, 2, 7, 66, 55, 77, 666, 1, 555, 22, 11, 33, 111, 1111, 4, 5555, 222, 88, 55555, 888

Think of Them When You See or Hear; Weddings and Marriage, Golden Cups, White Handkerchiefs, Egyptian Stories and Folklore, Blades, Swords, Shepherds, Bells, Trashy Weddings(This Feels Fond), Ignoring Mechanical Work(Also Feels Fond, like personal experiences you or they had), A Cold Beer, Hearts Jewelry, Bottle Caps, Neptune, Uranus, Venus, Mercury, North Node of the Moon, Aquarius, Aries, Scorpio, Leo, Libra, Cancer

(Note 2: I'm getting the vibe that no matter your background, your family and/or loved one was/is very religious, and put a lot of value into cultural customs and traditions, and so there's a lot of religious imagery from different cultures and a lot of customs popping up as well.)

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lizzie-boo · 2 years

Text

Together We Can Do Anything

Steve Harrington x Munson!Reader

Request: Heyyy! Could you do Eddie Munson x sister reader where she’s vecnas next victim? Maybe she’s dating Steve too please

Requested by: Anon

Words: 4,706

Summary: You’d been having headaches and nightmares for days, so when your boyfriend tells you those are signs of Vecna, an evil force preying on Hawkins residents, you chalk it up to coincidence. What happens when it turns out to be more than just a coincidence? And what exactly does this have to do with your brother hiding from the cops?

A/N: The request asked for a sister reader but I never actually stated that it was a sister so it should be a gender-neutral story. I absolutely loved this request and I wrote way more for it than I thought I was going to. I definitely think that there is potential for a part 2 based off of what happens in Season 4 part 2 when that comes out. So if you would be interested in that let me know. Enjoy!

The headaches had started just over four days ago. At first, it had been a dull thump in the back of your head but as the days dragged on the pain increased. No matter how many aspirins you took, the pain never seemed to cease. It felt as if your skull was about to split from all the pressure building against it. The pain now resided not only in the back of your head but also behind your eyes and in your temples. It wasn’t even a match for the worst migraine you had ever experienced. The pain alone had you wondering just how much more of this you could take.

But no, the throbbing ache in your head wasn’t all of it. You had also been recently plagued by grueling nightmares. Your life had been filled with its fair share of trauma so far and the dreams you were having were a constant reminder. They were so vivid that it was as if they were happening all over again. As if you were there, right in the middle of it.

It was starting to drive you crazy, the pain and fear left you wanting to find some form of release. However, you knew there was nothing you could do that wouldn’t worry those closest to you. The last thing you wanted was to become a burden to those around you. Which is why you refused to tell your brother Eddie about what was happening when he would ask if you were alright.

It was the same reason that you had stopped spending the night at your boyfriend Steve’s house. The nightmares were your burden to carry and the last thing you wanted was to keep him up at night as well. Hence why you found yourself sitting in the living room of your uncle’s trailer trying to distract yourself so that you wouldn’t fall asleep. Because if you didn’t sleep then you couldn’t dream, and thus, you wouldn’t have nightmares. It seemed like a great idea to your sleep-addled brain.

You stared at the television screen as the movie credits began to roll. You weren’t sure what movie you had just watched, they had started to blur together after the second one of the night. The distraction had worked for a little but now it was becoming increasingly hard to fight off the tiredness. Your eyelids felt as if they were twice as heavy compared to the start of the night. Even your blinks seemed to last longer as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Glancing at the door to the trailer you wonder if Eddie had come home. You tried to sift through the cloudy memories of the night to figure it out but you couldn’t focus over the searing pain in your head. It was as if the headache and lack of sleep were making your thoughts foggy. The harder you tried to remember the more your head protested, the ache becoming too much to handle. Closing your eyes in a last-ditch effort to ease the pain you end up falling asleep. Letting the nightmares take hold, a whimper, then a scream escapes you as you relive the worst moments of your life.

Maybe if you had been less tired you would have realized that Eddie hadn’t come home yet. Or that you hadn’t actually seen him in over two days. Yet, you had been too focused on the searing pain that clouded your thoughts to piece together that last time you had talked to him. Maybe with a bit more sleep, you would have realized that you hadn’t talked to your boyfriend the past two days either. If only you had realized because maybe then you would’ve known what was happening to you.

When you woke up the next morning, the headache seemed to be worse than before. A feat that you didn’t think humanly possible. Downing a couple of aspirin you decided to call Steve to see if he was working at Family Video today. You had to return your movies anyway and knowing he would be there to greet you would be a welcome distraction.

Your body felt sluggish as you made your way over to the phone hanging on the wall. All of your muscles ached, longing for just a bit more sleep. Picking up the phone you dialed Steve’s number without missing a beat. The number ingrained in your memory from countless nights spent on the phone talking about anything and everything.

On the third ring, the line is finally picked up, “Harrington residence,” his mom answers.

“Hi Mrs. Harrington, is Steve home?” you ask, trying to sound as polite and cheery as you can.

“Sorry dear he’s not home right now, must’ve left early this morning.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.” The line goes dead before you can even say goodbye.

You roll your eyes, unable to contain your dislike of Steve’s mother. She had never liked you very much, often pointing out how Nancy was a much better match for Steve. Steve was always quick to reassure you that his parent’s opinions didn’t matter, especially since he wasn’t fond of them himself. Right now though you didn’t have time to dwell on your hatred of his parents because what she had told you seemed odd. Steve never left for work early, especially not hours early.

Your thoughts began to race and all you could think was maybe he hadn’t come home last night. Now jumping to conclusions you began to worry about who he might have been with last night. Who he would be replacing you with next. The spiraling thoughts seemed to be never-ending and it felt as if your head was spinning.

The sound of a car door slamming outside is enough to pull you from the torrent of thoughts. Peaking out the window you see your boyfriend’s car parked in front of Max’s house. Seeing him leaning against the hood of the car fills you with relief, at least you know where someone is. Yanking the door open you rush down the front steps and run across the street. Barreling into Steve you wrap your arms around his neck almost knocking him over in the process.

His arms wrap around your waist pulling you closer as he moves a hand to hold the back of your head. “What’s wrong baby? Did something happen?”

“No, I just called your house and your mom said you were already gone and I guess I just jumped to conclusions,” you mumble into his chest.

“You thought I was cheating on you?” He pulls you away from his chest just far enough to look into your eyes. “I would never, and I mean never cheat on you.”

He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before placing another on your lips. For the first time in days, you begin to feel normal, the aching in your body no longer at the forefront of your mind. Instead, you relish in the bliss that always comes when you’re with Steve.

The moment doesn’t last long though. Soon enough Max comes running from behind her house, eyes wide with unshed tears. She yells at everyone to get back into the car and no one even asks why. You follow suit, concerned with what’s happening.

“Was it Vecna?” Lucas asks.

Max nods slightly and everyone seems to tense. It’s as if the air within the car stands still. Unsure of what they are talking about you break the tense silence, “Who’s Vecna?”

“A monster that is trying to kill Max,” Dustin tells you.

Max turns to look out the window trying to ignore the conversation. Lucas watches her for a minute before turning to punch Dustin in the arm.

“Can someone please explain what’s happening?”

Adjusting his grip on the steering wheel Steve takes over. “So Eddie met up with Chrissy in the woods the other night but Vecna got her. So now the cops think that he killed her which Dustin knew wasn’t true so he came to get me and Robin-”

You cut him off, “My brother is wanted for murder?” Your voice comes out louder than it should in the small space but you can’t help it. How could you have missed this all happening? Your own brother was running from the cops and you had just thought he was asleep in his room.

“Yes, but let me finish.” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Anyway, we tracked him down, got his side of the story, and well after a bit of investigating we found out that Vecna is behind the deaths of Fred and Chrissy. It started the same way for both of them, headaches, nightmares, nosebleeds, and then visions. So when we found that out Max told us she had all of those too, so now we need to protect her before Vecna gets to her.”

“Wait, who’s Fred?”

“He was Nancy’s friend,” Dustin tells you, pulling on the back of your seat so he can lean over your shoulder.

“So Nancy is helping with all of this too?” Your stomach twists and the doubt from earlier begins to creep back in. You know that what they had is long gone and that Steve only has feelings for you but sometimes you can’t help but wonder if maybe part of those feelings live on somewhere deep inside of him that even he doesn’t know about. That maybe one day the flame for her will reignite, filling him with a love for her that even you can’t extinguish.

“Yeah, her and Robin are sneaking into Pennhurst Asylum right now!” Dustin informs you, sounding a bit too excited about it for your liking.

“They’re trying to find anything that could help us figure out how to keep Max safe,” Lucas adds on.

“How long do you think she has?” you whisper to Steve, not wanting to upset the girl more.

“So far it seems like after the visions start it’s about a day, so she doesn’t have much longer,” he whispers back.

“Wait, the visions didn’t start at the same time as everything else?”

“They seem to start after everything else, right before he comes to collect his next victim.” Your stomach twists and you feel as if you’re going to be sick. It has to be a coincidence right? Headaches and nightmares are common, there was no way that you were on the list for some crazy interdimensional monster. Besides, you hadn’t had any weird visions or nosebleeds, so there was no reason to be scared. It was all just a major coincidence. At least that’s what you were going to tell yourself.

The car falls silent once more as Steve drives to the next destination on Max’s list. His thumb rubs against the back of your hand and you can’t tell if it’s him trying to calm you or calm himself. Staring out the window you contemplate whether or not you should tell your boyfriend about the similarities, just in case. It isn’t until the car jolts to a stop at the entrance to the cemetery that you decide it’s better to keep it to yourself. Steve already has enough to worry about with keeping Max and the rest of the kids safe, he doesn’t need your paranoia thrown in too.

It doesn’t take long for you to see Vecna in action. Watching Max’s body lift into the air has your heart beating faster than you ever thought possible. As her bag is dumped on the ground you grab her walkman. It feels oddly heavy in your hand and your fingers feel as if they can barely hold on. You fumble with the buttons, trying to open it in time for the boys to put the cassette tape in. Sliding your fingers over the buttons you search for the right one, feeling as if your hands are failing you. Finally, you press the button and it pops open, just in time for Lucas to shove the tape in.

The headphones are placed on her just before she floats out of reach and all you can do is stare helplessly hoping that it will work. Her hands twitch for a moment and it is enough for you to hold onto the hope that it will work. The commotion around you had turned to a faint buzzing that melded with the strong heartbeat echoing in your ears. It seemed as if the second ticked by in slow motion as you waited for any sign.

Then all at once, Max dropped down, Lucas pulling her to his chest. The sound of their voices finally reached you and it felt as if you could move again. As if your body was no longer stuck in quicksand. Dropping to your knees you inspected the girl in front of you, looking for any signs of injury. Once you determined she was safe you ushered the kids back to the car, not wanting to spend another second here.

As the car pulls away from the cemetery you lean your head against the cool glass looking out over the tombstones. That’s when you see it, looming in the distance between the two headstones you were all too familiar with, a grandfather clock. It takes a minute for the image to sink in and when it does you rub your eyes. With that everything goes back to normal outside but inside you are left with the lingering feeling of doubt.

It had to be the lack of sleep making you see things. At least that was what you were going to tell yourself because there was no way you were going to let yourself believe that you were next on the list of a crazed bloodthirsty monster. It was just the lack of sleep, after some rest, you would be back to normal. So you close your eyes, letting your head rest against the window as you fall asleep.

It doesn’t take long for the nightmares to kick in full force. Once more you are plunged into your worst memory. Your cheeks feel wet from what you can only assume are tears and your throat is raw from your screams. Reliving the moment has you breaking down and feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

You let out a soft cry in your sleep and Steve quirks a brow in your direction before turning to look at the road once more. When you let out a whimper he checks the rear view mirror to find the equally concerned faces of the kids in the backseat. They all sit in silence unsure of if they should wake you. When a particularly rough scream escapes you all their hands shoot in your direction.

You jolt awake at the feeling of Dustin’s hands on your shoulders, Max’s on your arm, and Steve’s free hand holding your own. Blinking slowly you realize that the tears you shed in your dream were not at all fake. Brushing your cheeks with your free hand, you rid the trails lining your face.

You turn to look at Dustin, who was still holding tight to you. “Oops, sorry,” he tells you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you okay?” Lucas asks.

“Hmm, yeah. It was just a bad dream. Nothing major.”

“It wasn’t a Vecna dream was it?” the redhead asks.

You give her a soft smile before reaching back to grab her hand. “It was just a regular nightmare, no need to worry about me.”

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment before squeezing your hand. As if to say she is still worried but believes you. “Just promise if you have any other symptoms you’ll tell us.”

“Of course, but let’s not worry about me, we need to focus on how to defeat this creep before he gets the chance to grab you again.”

The five of you rendezvous with Nancy and Robin at the Wheeler’s house. All pilling into the basement to decide on your next steps. You’re all sitting around the table arguing over what to do next when the radio beeps. All eyes turn, waiting for the message when Eddie’s voice comes through.

“Hey, so there’s a lot to explain but I’m by skull rock, please come find me soon. Over.” His voice sounds staticky over the receiver but you’ve never felt more relieved to hear your brother’s voice.

The full reality that he was on the run and wanted for murder hadn’t fully sunk in until just now when you finally heard the panic in his voice. Relief and dread had washed over you simultaneously and now they seemed to be battling it out. Trying to decide which way to sway your emotions. The mental back and forth is tiring and all you want is for all of this to be over. You want to go back to how life was before, before the pain, before the murders, before the constant concern for everyone who was important to you.

Finally, the relief is able to edge its way to victory when your eyes finally land on Eddie’s figure in the distance. You take off running, Dustin and Lucas close behind you. Wrapping your arms around your brother you try not to cry. After a minute you pull away just enough to land a solid punch on his shoulder.

He grabs his arm. “What was that for?” he asks.

“You scared the shit out of me, what did you go get yourself involved with?”

“How was I supposed to know that when I went to sell her some drugs she was gonna float and snap like a twig?” Eddie argues.

“You just should’ve.” Your hands land on your hips as you glare at him.

Finally reaching you Steve stops at your side letting his arm rest on your waist. He then reaches a hand out to Eddie and pulls him in for a half hug, trapping their arms between them. You take the opportunity of your brother’s close proximity to place another punch on his arm. His palm pushes into your forehead just enough so you stumble back a few steps but Steve tightens his hold to keep you upright.

“It’s gonna be fine, Henderson said they’ve been through this before,” Eddie reassures.

“Yeah babe, we’re gonna figure this out,” Steve tells you.

Laying your head on his shoulder you take a moment to just breathe. He places a kiss on your forehead and you can tell he is mentally preparing for the fight that is sure to go down soon. You can feel all of your muscles relax slightly as his warmth seeps in.

Gently you slide his arm off your waist, turning towards the trees behind you. Hesitantly you step towards the treeline. As you move closer you begin to make out a noise, with another step the noise becomes clear. A voice in the distance calls your name. Stepping over a small bush you make your way towards the voice, a voice that you now can distinguish as Mike Wheelers. He calls your name again causing you to speed up the pace.

He must have cut his trip to California short. This means that he is unaware of what is going on in Hawkins. He could be in danger you tell yourself as you break into a sprint.

As the words spring to mind, you hear the words you were dreading most. “Help!” he screams and you rush towards the sound of his voice. His cries for help draw nearer but you don’t slow down. Your lungs burn, struggling to fill with enough oxygen to keep up with your pace but you push on.

Your feet pound against the ground crushing sticks under your shoes as you go. Pushing a tree branch out of the way you make a sharp turn towards the direction of Mike’s voice. Dodging a tree you narrowly miss the roots sticking out. You push harder, using everything in you to run as fast as you can. The branches that you don’t move graze your arms and legs, littering your flesh with scrapes and cuts.

“Help.” He sounds pained you think to yourself as you grow closer to the young boy.

Making another sharp turn you continue in the direction of the voice, which now grows louder. Making your way around another tree you find a clearing and stop. His voice now sounds within reach as you make your way to the center. Turning to take in your surroundings you look for the familiar face.

Slowly the voice morphs from Mike’s familiar tone to the voice that you had only heard in your nightmares. Your blood runs cold as a large shape makes its way to the edge of the clearing. As it inches closer to the light you can feel the sharp pain in your head. As if your skull is being punctured by millions of tiny needles. Suddenly the fatigue hits you full force and you fall to your knees. No longer capable of holding your weight up. The grass is cold under your hands and for the first time, you notice the splotches of blood on the grass. Wiping under your nose confirms your suspicions, a nosebleed. The last symptom that you were missing. The one that allowed for you to hold out hope that maybe you weren’t being plagued by Vecna.

Finally stepping into the light you take in Vecna’s form. Leaning back to look up at the monster you can’t help but let the feeling of dread sink in. Your legs wobble and you fall back onto your butt, legs sliding out from under you on both sides. Vecna’s long strides close the gap between the two of you in seconds. You let the traces of adrenaline help to fuel you as you attempt to crawl backward. Anything to get away from him.

“Always such a burden, on your parents, your uncle, your brother, even your friends,” he taunts, poking at the sensitive subject.

“You never were the easy child,” your parents' voices echo. Both their voices begin to mix as they remind you of all the trouble you causes them when you were younger. Reminding you of how even now you’re causing Eddie and Uncle Wayne just as much trouble.

“No, stop!” you scream trying to drown out their voices.

Their taunts continue, growing louder with each one. All you want is to cover your ears and make it all go away. You wish you knew what to do to make it stop.

“You don’t mean it,” you scream at them as sobs rack your body.

Slowly Vecna reaches out for you and you feel a tendril begin to wrap around your throat. Then another round each leg and arm to hold you in place. You knew that on the outside you must have been floating like how you had found Max earlier. However similar you were to Max at the moment there was one thing you weren’t sure of, if anyone would be able to find you in time to save you. You try your best to wiggle free from the grasp but you feel too weak. You felt completely tired as if at any moment you would pass out.

Then as if shining down on you like a beacon of hope, you heard it. It was a familiar tune but your brain couldn’t quite place it. Then as the verse began you knew it, a song that you often listened to when hanging out with the kids. They liked to play it often and while it wasn’t your go-to you had grown rather fond of it. The lyrics alone bring back plenty of good memories.

Turning your head to the left you could see a bright light and as your eyes adjusted you noticed your own body lifted into the air. It was eerily similar to the scene earlier in the cemetery except for this time you were an outsider looking in. You could see Steve and Eddie both helplessly grabbing at your hands, trying to pull you back down. Max was crouched near your feet, the walkman in her hand. Everyone surrounding you wore the same somber expression.

As you glanced out over the faces of your friends, the people you cared most for, the memories washed over you. It was like getting stuck in the rain on a warm summer’s day, unexpected but all-encompassing. It warmed you from the core out and you finally felt strong enough to fight back.

This time you were able to rip the tendrils off of you as if they were nothing. With your feet firmly planted back on the ground you ran towards the opening. Desperate to make your way back to the people you loved. You could hear Vecna scrambling behind you but you didn’t dare look back. You kept your eyes locked on Steve and Eddie telling yourself you would make it back to them again. You had to. You couldn’t leave them like this. So you ran harder than you thought possible. The sound of your feet hitting the ground mixes with the steady beats of your heart.

Arms outstretched you reached for the opening. Then all at once, it felt like you were falling. Your feet hit the ground first and as the rest of your body started to fall over seven sets of hands caught you.

Blinking to adjust to the bright light you take in the worried face of your brother. “Never, I mean never do that to me again,” he warns you before pulling you to his chest. “I don’t want to lose you too,” he whispers for only you to hear.

You throw your arms around him, not bothering to worry about the tears staining his dirty jacket. It takes you longer than you would like to admit to pull yourself together. Once you have calmed down enough you pull away from your brother. Steve gives you long enough to take a breath of fresh air before he has you wrapped in his arms.

He places chaste kisses across your face before capturing your lips in his which earns him a groan from everyone watching.

“You said earlier that it wasn’t Vecna, why did you lie to us? To me?” his voice cracks and you can feel the tears welling up once more.

“It started as just nightmares and a headache, I was hoping that it was just a coincidence. Besides I didn’t want to bother you with it in case it was nothing, you already had so much to deal with without my problems added on,” you tell him.

“You are never a bother and you’re never a burden.” He says it with such conviction you’re almost sure he knows what Vecna had told you earlier. You smile at him through the tears, feeling beyond grateful that he came into your life when he did.

Steve opens his mouth to continue talking when Max interrupts him. “You should have told us so we could’ve protected you.”

Pulling yourself away from Steve you move over to the red-haired girl kneeling in the grass. Sitting in front of her you grab her hands in yours. “I think we both learned a lot about ourselves in there with him. I think that we both know now how important it is to ask for help, which is why we’re in this together now.” You give her hands a squeeze and she surprises you by leaning in for a hug.

“Yeah, together we can stop this,” she tells you, a smile spreading across her face.

Standing up you pull her up with you, never letting her hand go. Steve then reaches for yours and Lucas for Max’s. Slowly everyone else stands with you reaching out for whoever’s hand is closest.

“We’re in this together,” Nancy confirms while grabbing Eddie and Steve’s hands, closing in the circle.

Standing there in the middle of the forest, holding hands, you feel confident in your ragtag group. If anyone is capable of defeating this monster and saving Hawkins it was going to be you guys. You were sure of it.

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hannahmanderr · 1 year

Text

DannyMay Day 5 - 10 min vs. 1 hour

Words (10 min): 259

Words (1 hour): 1613 (FFN)

Summary: They say your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. Dash discovers that his brain has other ideas - namely, focusing on his bisexual awakening (post-reveal Danny/Dash)

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

~10 min.~

Dash thought dying would involve more reminiscing of his life. All those golden memories that flash before your eyes, like in the movies. His first touchdown, his first kiss, that sort of thing.

And yet as he plummeted towards the ground and time seemed to move in slow motion, he found himself annoyed. Of course he wouldn’t get to relive his life’s greatest hits.

Of course he’d be forced to think about the one person he didn’t want to think about, the person who was supposed to be saving him right now.

He hated the thrill that ran down his spine when he thought about that person swooping down, sweeping him up, and flying off with him into the sunset.

Stupid Fenton. Stupid wind-swept dark hair. Stupid endless blue eyes.

Stupid bisexual awakening moments before death.

Dash closed his eyes. If he was going to die, he might as well just suck it up and face the music. At least then he could die knowing he wasn’t such a coward that he couldn’t finish what he’d started.

Alright Fenton, he thought to himself. You got me.

The ground was getting closer and closer now. He tried to ignore it.

Then, just seconds before impact, he was jolted to the side and he started falling sideways. No, wait. Not falling sideways.

Being carried.

“You’re an idiot, you know that, right Baxter?” Danny’s voice came through the rushing wind.

Dash could only nod mutely and wonder if his racing heart was because of the near-death experience or because of the rescue.

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

~1 hour~

Look, no matter what anyone tries to claim, I wasn’t trying to fall off the building, alright?

I mean it wasn’t even my idea to have the junior prom on the roof of one of the tallest buildings in Amity Park. I was only on the roof ‘cause that’s where prom was, end of story.

No, I wasn’t sloshed. And I wasn’t high either. I’m not an idiot; I’m not gonna do something that’s gonna get me kicked off the team. People just sometimes fall off of buildings, especially in cities that are literally haunted by ghosts.

God, I swear none of the teachers at Casper have a clue how to handle themselves and all of us around ghosts. Like come on, us students have been involved in way more ghost stuff. We saved all the adults that one time!

Ugh, whatever. Not important. The point is, I didn’t fall off the building on purpose. The ghost that came and crashed the prom just happened to fly right towards me. As I was just standing there, doing nothing.

… near the edge of the roof.

It caught me by surprise, alright? Like it wouldn’t happen to anyone else. I’m the most athletic kid in school, if a ghost can knock me off my feet, it can happen to anyone.

So yeah, I was basically falling twenty-six stories at breakneck speed.

Heh. Breakneck. You know, ‘cause landing on the ground would break my - you know what, forget it.

But yeah. Whoop-de-doo, this was how the King of Casper High goes, apparently. Being knocked off the building in a random ghost attack. During junior prom of all things.

Aw man, everyone was watching me, weren’t they?

I saw a flash of light from back on top of the roof. Thank God, Fenton was finally getting up off his -

Nope. Nuh-uh. We aren’t going there, Baxter.

… oh, who was I kidding. If I was gonna die, I was gonna face it like a man. Face everything head on, you know? Especially ‘cause my life was definitely not flashing before my eyes. Which sucked. There would’ve been some memories I would’ve liked to revisit. Like when I scored my first ever touchdown. That was sweet! Or when I got my car and drove it for the first time. Or my first kiss -

- argh, no! No, I was not gonna think about kissing, or think about Fenton, or think about his dark hair and how shiny it is, or think about that little face he makes when he’s excited about something, that one is so cu-

- I hate everything.

I hate this. I hated the fact that I was falling towards my certain death. I hated that I had been dumb enough to walk off and hang out towards the edge. I hated the fact that I was even at this lame prom in the first place. I hated that I hadn’t been able to come with the person I really wanted to come with.

I hated that the person I wanted to take to prom was freaking Danny Fenton.

There, alright? I admitted it. I could die happy.

Except I wasn’t happy. It’s like whenever I think of him, my stomach does all these crazy flips and stuff like I see him doing in the sky all the time, and I can’t tell if it’s ‘cause I hate him or ‘cause I… ugh, don’t hate him. I’m not going any farther than that, nope.

It doesn’t help that it’s not easy to avoid thinking about him. He’s in the majority of my classes, and beyond that, his stupid face is plastered all over the city. Heck, I walk out my front door and there’s a huge billboard with, like, “HOME OF DANNY PHANTOM” written on it, right next to his picture.

It definitely doesn’t help that it’s a really good picture.

You know, shouldn’t he have been helping me? It wasn’t like him to just abandon a civvie like me to the wolves. The wolves in this case being the concrete that was approaching way too quickly for my liking.

It’s whatever. He’s gotta keep everyone else from falling off the roof too, I guess.

Didn’t keep my stomach from doing a freaking trapeze act when I thought about him swooping down and rescuing me. And then he’d look at me with those pretty green eyes and tell me I’m an idiot and I’d sit there and let him because he wouldn’t be wrong.

Yeah. Whatever at this point, right? Not like I’d be alive long enough to live it down, anyway.

I was the idiot in love with Fenton.

Does anyone else know? God, no. I have a rep to maintain, you know! It’s not easy being me. Like I could ever be seen crushing on a loser, whether that loser was a superhero or not.

I mean don’t get me wrong, they guys on the team are like, super chill. It’s not like I’m necessarily worried about them beating me up for liking a guy or anything, but come on. Hundreds of other guys at Casper High and I had to pick on the one guy that was the worst for me to crush on?

And to be honest, I didn’t really feel like trying to justify the fact that I’d gone out with a bunch of girls before. Again, most of the guys on the team aren’t homophobic or anything, but that doesn’t mean they understand everything, like the fact that bi people exist. Honestly, I bet most people think I don’t understand the fact that bi people exist.

Look, I might, ah, help loser-types understand their place, but I have standards. I’m not gonna be a weird bigot about it.

(Also that concrete was definitely getting closer, where the heck was Fenton?)

Except for some reason, even though I was admitting this to myself, I could hear Kwan’s voice in my head, telling me that I wasn’t being totally honest. Kwan, who would definitely be the last person I would think would suspect my secret.

Which probably meant the voice was right.

Okay, so I might, emphasis on might, be the teeniest bit nervous about approaching Fenton. Not scared! Dash Baxter doesn’t do scared. Just, uhh, a little antsy. Like how I get right before a game.

Argh, fine, a lot antsy.

It’s double stupid ‘cause I have no reason to be. He and Manson broke up like, only a couple months after the whole asteroid thing, and it somehow leaked that he swung both ways a little bit after that. He hasn’t gone out with anyone since, which is kind of surprising, really. I would’ve thought a superhero like him would’ve been snatched up right away.

Especially with how I’ve heard other kids at Casper fawning over him. He’d have the lion’s share of potential partners.

… Oh my God, do not tell me this whole thing was some sort of inferiority complex on my part. I mean sure, I did beat up on him for the better part of middle school and our freshman year, but I stopped, and, again: I’m the King of Casper High. Who wouldn’t want to go out with me?

Apparently my subconscious has decided the one person who wouldn’t want to go out with me is the one person I want to go out with.

Well, no sense in worrying about it. The ground was getting closer and closer, and really, I was kind of surprised that time felt like it’d slowed down as much as it had. And of course, Fenton and that pretty white hair of his were nowhere in sight.

Just my luck.

I closed my eyes. Might as well make my last few moments count, right?

And so I started imagining how things would’ve turned out differently if, let’s say, I’d been able to take Fenton as my date to prom. We would’ve had a blast laughing about Brady, who had definitely been the one to spike the punch and then proceed to chug it. And we would’ve just hung out and talked about sports and space and the stars and anything else he wanted. Then a slow song would’ve come on, and I would’ve taken him out onto the floor and danced with him, hand in hand just like a real couple. His gorgeous blue eyes would’ve had that little mischievous twinkle they get all the time when I inevitably tripped over my own feet while dancing ‘cause I’d be so nervous.

And then he’d laugh and wrap his arms around me, and I would’ve pulled him closer, and we would’ve leaned in all quiet and excited, and his lips would be right there and -

“GAHHH!!”

Okay, I’ve taken some nasty hits during games, but whatever had just plowed into my ribs hurt like crazy. Was it the ground? Was I still alive?

A quick scan told me that yes, somehow I was still alive?

And it wasn’t the ground that I’d crashed into. Or, more accurately in this case, crashed into me.

White hair stung my cheeks as it whipped around in the wind.

“Jeez, Baxter, what were you thinking?” came Fenton’s voice. He set me down on the ground and fixed me with a look that sent my heart racing. “Why on earth were you that close to the edge?”

I couldn’t help it. I closed the gap between us.

His lips were cold and chapped. Totally different than any girl I’d ever kissed.

I broke it off. He stared back at me with his wide eyes. I just grinned and asked, “Wanna go to prom with me?”

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay2023 #dannymay 2023 #dash baxter #danny x dash #swagger bishie #hannah writes #romance #fanfic #danny phantom fanfiction #look i just love flustered baby gay dash lol

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mynameis-noe-body · 8 months

Text

Masterlist

For those wondering: I closed the previous mynameis-noe-body blog and opened a new one, to make it a main blog and have free access to dm.

First of all, rules. This is a list of my works, and I will rate them accordingly to Ao3 guidelines. This means they may be explicit and so, strictly +18.

I will write for the following fandoms and more (find more in others).

I will not write underage. I am comfortable with a certain amount of angst and/or violence but it's still up to me to decide what I am okay with.

I will not write for The Marauders fandom, since I do not appreciate those characters.

Requests are closed for the moment. And thank you for reading.

▪️Wizarding World

Shot through the heart

Professor Severus Snape × Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Status: Complete (multiple chapters)

Summary: Licorice Hatch has traveled the world, fulfilling her dream of becoming one of the most famous writers and reporters in the Wizarding World. Now, she is coming back. Merlin only knows the turmoil she has caused in the heart of her dark, splendid professor. And at the very thought — eager to hold her in his arms again — Severus can't help but relive their whole story, from the very beginning, when it all started with a Wilbur Smith's book and... a two-month detention!

The Old Mill at the Hogsmeade's Eastern Forest

Post-Second Wizarding War Severus Snape × you (F)

Rating: Mature

Status: in progress (multiple chapters)

Summary: A year and a half after the end of the war, Severus still hasn't managed to leave Britain. No one knows of his survival, and for months he enjoys a life of silence, solitude and well-deserved peace. Everything would be absolutely perfect, were it not for you, sitting on his empty tombstone everyday to bring condolences and read some poetry. When it's said that curiosity killed the cat...

▪️Adam Driver Fandom

How to (not) kill a stranger

Kylo Ren × you (F)

Rating: Explicit

Status: Complete (multiple chapters)

Summary: He glances at you. "A young lady like you shouldn't travel alone, on a night like this." You want to roll your eyes and send him to hell, but he was kind to help you and you don't want any more trouble. "I couldn't really stay in Aberdeen. I knew my old Corolla wouldn't hold up for long, not in this weather, but I wanted to at least get to the Motel for the night." He nods, raises the temperature of the car and you thank him again. He doesn't acknowledge your words. But he smirks. "Aren't you afraid you just crossed your path with a murderer?" You grin. "What are the odds that we are both murderers?"

▪️Stranger Things

Catch me if you can, Chief!

Chief Jim Hopper × you (F)

Rating: Explicit

Status: Complete (one shot)

Summary: It's the 4th of July in Hawkins, and while everybody's having fun at the amusement park, the only one who's catching your attention is Jim Hopper, Chief of Police — and he's looking at you, equally interested.

This Friday night

Chief Jim Hopper × you (F)

Rating: Mature

Status: Complete (one shot)

Summary: All alone on a Friday night, after a long week of college classes, you just want to eat some ice cream and watch a movie. You didn't expect Jim to pay you visit — but god, if it isn't a nice surprise. OR — you and Jim (your father's best friend) get intimate on your parents' couch.

“Nothing to say, hm?”

Chief Jim Hopper × you (F)

Rating: Mature

Status: Complete (one shot)

Summary: You let Billy flirt with you a little... that might not be a good idea. Jim will find a very passionate way of showing his jealousy.

Sunday morning: pancakes and...

Chief Jim Hopper x you (F)

Rating: Mature

Status: Complete (one shot)

Summary: You make Jim breakfast and decide to wake him up with your hands and mouth.

▪️John Wick Fandom

🖤 Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont 🖤

I am your slave

Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont × you (F/GN)

Rating: Teen & Up Audience

Status: Complete (one shot)

Summary: You and Vincent play the jealousy game at a public evening gala of the High Table. You end up revelieng almost all of your feelings to each other.

Safe in his arms

Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont × you (F/GN)

Rating: Teen & Up Audience

Status: Complete (one shot)

Summary: Vincent, who has fallen in love with you and made you his beautiful wife, has never really told you about his true life of crime and murder. What will you do the first time you catch him red handed?

Little dove

Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont × you (F)

Rating: Explicit

Status: Complete (one shot)

Summary: You're the Marquis' favorite tailor — and you always act so innocent and pure it would just too much fun to ruin you (corruption kink).

🖤 John Wick 🖤

Origami

John Wick × reader (F/GN)

Rating: All

Status: Complete (one shot - drabble)

Summary: A casual encounter lead you and John to looking for each other, wishing to meet again.

▪️Others (open to write for: Alice in Wonderland, Joker(s), Johnny Depp fandom)

Wonderland Chronicles

Tarrant Higtop (Mad Hatter) × Alice Kingsley

Fandom: Alice in Wonderland

Rating: Explicit

Status: Complete (one shot)

Summary: Alice and Tarrant get inspired by fruit juices and enjoy smutty time, all alone during a tea party.

🔹A list of k*nks without explanation

Severus Snape

Lucius Malfoy

Eddie Munson

Billy Hargrove

Chief Jim Hopper

#harry potter #adam driver #alice in wonderland #starnger things #jim hopper #severus snape #pro snape #snape x you #snape x oc #adam driver x reader #mad hatter #masterlist #request #eddie munson #billy hargrove

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godsfavdarling · 2 months

Text

chapter 23

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!oc

summary: Molly gets bad news about Spencer.

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist

warnings: just sad. prison arc!

words: 1,5k

Dear Spencer,

I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. There are so many things I want to share with you, and though I wish I could say them in person, I hope this letter will suffice for now.

First and foremost, I want you to know that Diana is doing great. She's in good health and spirits, and we've been spending a lot of time together.

Cassie, the nurse, has been a wonderful companion, and we've grown quite close. It's been comforting to have your mom here, especially during the times when I miss you the most.

Work has been keeping me busy as usual. My students are a joy to teach, as always, and they never fail to put a smile on my face.

Speaking of work, Sarah finally moved closer to her family as she's expecting a baby. It's been bittersweet saying goodbye to her, but I'm happy for her and her husband.

In my free time, I've been experimenting with new recipes in the kitchen. You'd be proud to know that I've been cooking up a storm, trying out different dishes and perfecting old favorites. I bring them to Diana as often as I can.

And there's exciting news on another front - Henry and I have been spending more time together, playing the piano. He's been making tremendous progress! We've even started tackling some more challenging pieces, and I must say, our duets are becoming quite impressive!

Do you remember that beautiful day we spent at the beach when we first started dating, the warmth of the sun on our skin and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore? It was one of those moments that felt like time stood still, and all that mattered was you and I.

I wish you could be here with me, holding my hand. But until then, please know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers. I miss you more than words can express, and I long for the day when we can be together again.

Sending all my love and warmest wishes,

Molly

.......................................

Even though Spencer refused to see Molly, she didn't give up on writing him letters every day. Each evening, she would sit down with pen and paper, pouring her heart out onto the page. She wrote about her day, the mundane details of work, and the small joys she found in everyday life.

She reminisced about their memories together, asking him if he remembered certain moments and trying to paint vivid descriptions of the days they shared or the holidays they celebrated. She knew Spencer could remember everything, but she hoped that reliving these memories through her words would bring him some comfort.

Despite the turmoil she faced, Molly made a conscious effort to keep her letters positive. Only the good things, omitting her own struggles—the nights spent crying and the sleepless hours plagued by nightmares.

Instead, she focused on the books she was reading, the movies she watched, and the weather outside her window. She wrote about Diana. Anything pleasant that surrounded her found its way onto those pages, her attempt to bring a ray of sunshine into Spencer's now dark world.

One day, Molly decided to include a photo with her letter. It was a simple snapshot taken by Spencer during one of their vacations.

In the picture, she was smiling at the camera, sitting in a chair at an outdoor cafe. She wore a flowing white summer dress, her hair naturally curled and dancing in the wind. She hoped that the image would bring some warmth and comfort to Spencer, a reminder of happier times and their love.

Moreover, Molly made a point to call every day a team member who was on visit duty, asking for details about Spencer's well-being and what they talked about during their visit. What was he saying? Is he okay?

.................................

As JJ gingerly handed her the crayon drawing, Molly felt her heart swell with emotion. There they were, depicted in vibrant hues on the crisp white paper: Henry, with his infectious smile and wild imagination; Spencer, his gentle eyes filled with warmth and love; and herself, standing beside them, her hand intertwined with Spencer's as they stood beneath the shade of a towering oak tree.

Tears welled in Molly's eyes as she traced the lines of the drawing.

"It's beautiful," Molly murmured, her voice thick with emotion as she looked up at JJ, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you for showing me this."

JJ smiled softly, her gaze filled with understanding. "He's quite the artist, isn't he?"

Molly nodded, a small smile gracing her lips as she wiped away a stray tear. "He really is."

...................................

Molly was sitting at the table, lost in thought. It was Saturday, and later she was going to spend some time with Diana. She sat with her cup of tea when she heard a knock at the door. Peering through the peephole, she saw Garcia.

"Hey," Molly greeted, opening the door and letting her in.

"Hi, honey," Garcia responded, her expression filled with worry.

"What happened?" Molly inquired, concerned as she let Garcia in.

Garcia let out a sigh as she sank onto the couch.

"Penelope... What happened?"

At that moment, tears welled up in Garcia's eyes, and her usually bubbly personality seemed to vanish.

"Didn't you go see Reid today?" Molly asked.

"Yeah, I did," Garcia replied, feeling a sense of unease creeping over her.

"What's wrong? Is he okay?" Molly pressed, her concern growing.

"Molly..." Garcia began, her voice wavering.

"Please just tell me. I feel like nobody is telling me anything. I just want to help," Molly pleaded, her anxiety mounting.

"He's hurt," Garcia finally revealed, her words heavy with sorrow.

"Hurt?" Molly repeated, her heart sinking.

"Yeah... pretty badly... He got beat up," Garcia confirmed, her voice filled with anguish.

Molly's stomach churned, and she dropped onto the couch, feeling overwhelmed by a rush of emotions.

"I already talked to Luke, because I was about to go to the warden's office. Spencer should be in protective custody..." Garcia explained.

"He's not in protective custody?" Molly interrupted, her voice filled with disbelief.

Molly's heart plummeted like a stone, the weight of the news settling heavily in her chest. It felt as though a physical blow had knocked the breath from her lungs, leaving her gasping for air amidst the suffocating sense of disbelief.

"No, he wasn't at least. Luke said he's going to take care of it and do something," Garcia reassured, her voice tinged with concern.

But Garcia's attempt at reassurance offered little comfort in the face of such dire news. Molly could see the worry etched in her friend's expression. The overwhelming sense of dread gripped her.

As Garcia reached out to embrace her, Molly felt like she was drowning in a sea of despair. The weight of the situation bore down on her, threatening to crush her beneath its unbearable burden.

Tears streamed down Molly's cheeks. Each tear that fell deepened her heartache, a raw pain gnawing at her insides.

Unable to find the words to express her anguish, Molly buried her face in her hands, her sobs muffled against her palms.

Garcia's attempt at comfort was met with a silent, desperate embrace. "I'm so sorry, Molly. But Spencer is strong. He's going to be okay," Garcia murmured softly.

Despite Garcia's words, Molly couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't just about whether Spencer would physically survive this ordeal—it was about the toll it would take on his spirit.

Even if Spencer emerged physically unscathed and regained his freedom, Molly knew deep down that he would never be the same.

The scars left by this harrowing experience would penetrate his soul, forever altering the fabric of his being.

................................

In the ensuing weeks, the torrent of misfortune continued to pour down upon them.

It was weeks later when Molly learned from the team that one of Spencer's friends had been brutally murdered right in front of him. The news hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest, leaving her reeling with shock and disbelief.

She couldn't comprehend why they had kept this information from her for so long. It wasn't as if she could change what had happened; all she wanted was to be kept in the loop, to share in the burden of knowledge. Yet, even that small solace was denied to her.

As the days dragged on with no breakthroughs in the hunt for Scratch, Molly felt her hope dwindling with each passing moment. Every day seemed to bring new challenges and fresh heartache, leaving her feeling utterly powerless in the face of adversity.

The weight of uncertainty bore down on her shoulders like a leaden mantle, threatening to crush her beneath its oppressive burden.

Amidst the chaos and turmoil, there was one silver lining: Diana. Despite the storm raging outside, she remained a beacon of light and stability in Molly's life. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, and the moments they spent together brought a sense of peace and tranquility amidst the chaos.

Yet, even in the midst of their moments of respite, Molly couldn't shake the haunting image of Spencer's fear-stricken face from her mind.

He rarely admitted when he was scared, preferring to bear the weight of his burdens alone. But to Molly, he had always been willing to show his vulnerabilities, to seek solace in her embrace.

She knew how much he despised feeling helpless and dependent, and the thought of him enduring such torment tore at her heartstrings.

#keep holding on #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst

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magicshopaholic · 2 years

Text

About You (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: There's something Namjoon isn't telling you. After finally getting out of him, though, you find yourself wishing you'd never asked.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC, minor Taehyung x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 10.1 K

Warnings: language; arguments; implied mentions of past trauma, particularly SA; mentions of campus assaults

Additional warning: This fic contains discussions of triggering topics centering around SA and r*pe, so please do NOT read this if you are not comfortable. While there is no description of any kind and no member of BTS is involved in it, the fic is meant to depict realistic conversations and implications of past trauma which may be difficult for some to read. This fic is extremely personal, not to mention important for characterization within the series, but please do exercise appropriate discretion before reading.

A/N: This fic is set around six months after Suburbia, on the same day as You Make Me Live. It also consists of important plot points for Taehyung and Dilara, a couple of months before the events of Los Angeles.

Tagging: @kflixnet @k-radio @bbl32 @dreaming-with-happiness, @sweetieguk, @ggukkieland (if you want to be added to the taglist, drop me a message)

Listen to: "nothing's gonna hurt you baby" by cigarettes after sex

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

“Milk?”

“None.”

“Okay. Sugar?”

“Only if you’re giving it to me.”

Namjoon snorts, spilling a few drops of the Americano he’s stirring. “You mean right now?”

“Depends on how interesting the movie they’re all watching out there is.” Kaya leans against the kitchen counter of the dorm and folds her arms across her chest, watching him sheepishly wipe the spilt coffee. “Any chance we’ll be interrupted?”

“I would rather get caught by paparazzi than by any of the guys,” he says seriously, shuddering. “They’ll make it a whole thing and ten years down the line, they’ll still act like it’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened.”

Kaya frowns. “So none of you have ever walked in on each other, in all these years?” she asks sceptically. “I find that a little hard to believe. Seokjin told me you all lived together in one room or something. You had to have, you know… interrupted each other, some time.”

“Sure we have. It’s why Jimin, to this day, calls Hoseok The Closet Hyung. Or that’s the closest translation, anyway,” he amends.

“Was he… in the closet?” Kaya asks, with a bit of trepidation, biting her lip as Namjoon shakes a small sachet of sugar into his glass.

“No, he was in a closet, with another trainee, and his pants were, well -” He breaks off and winces, shaking his head. “Not something I want to relive.”

She laughs. “How dramatic.” She watches him for a moment, his tall frame next to her, as he takes a sip of the second glass he’s stirring, this one most likely his. “Are you going to put yours in there, too?”

Namjoon chokes. “Put my - what?”

Kaya grins, nudging him as he coughs. “Sugar,” she says, enunciating every syllable.

“You called?” Yoongi’s dry voice enters the kitchen before he does, strolling in and stopping on her other side to look inside a couple of cabinets.

“Here,” says Namjoon, sliding the first glass of coffee carefully across the counter to him. “One sugar.”

“Thanks.”

“Yoongi, you tell me.” Kaya turns to him, resting her palm on the counter. “Have you guys ever walked in on each other in the dorm?”

It takes Yoongi seemingly a second to process this, before he chuckles dryly and glances over at Namjoon. “I don’t know, have we?”

Behind her, Namjoon sighs. “Oh, come on, that doesn’t count.”

“Really?” Kaya turns back to her boyfriend, thoroughly amused. “When was this?”

“Never. We didn’t get caught.”

“It’s true. We just found him sneaking her out of the dorm when he accidentally closed the door on his own hand.”

Namjoon winces, sipping his coffee. “Still hurts.”

“Oh, is this the girl you were telling me about? The hashtag-dangerous one, with the whole bad girl thing going on?” Kaya asks curiously.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “You two really talk about your exes, huh?”

“Well, it’s not dinner table conversation,” she says reasonably. “But we know about our exes. It’s healthy.”

“I happen to agree.” He looks up at Namjoon, raising his eyebrows. “She’s a wise one.”

“It’s the Ph.D. On the downside, I have no bad girl thing to speak of.”

“You really don’t,” agrees Namjoon, grinning when she mock-glares at him. “And in any case, if serious exes are what we’re counting, then I only really have Yu-jin.”

“And I only have Nick. College boyfriend,” she adds for Yoongi’s benefit as they start walking outside to the living room, Namjoon slightly behind them. His free hand brushes her waist as they take a seat on the couch, him on the edge and Kaya next to him, with Jimin on her other side. The rest of the group is spread out around the room while a political drama plays on the television. The early evening sun is warm and dim, the last rays skimming the back of the sofa before it disappears over the horizon.

“Nick was much more recent, though,” points out Namjoon, continuing their earlier conversation. “You have to count him.”

“Five years is a lifetime ago. And duration doesn’t matter,” she adds, holding up a finger. “It’s the nature of the relationship that determines its seriousness. So Yu-jin was just as serious,” she concludes.

“Wait, we’re talking about Yu-jin?” Jungkook pipes up in English, and both of them turn to see him grinning from his place on the floor, a can of beer precariously balanced between his knees. “Your Yu-jin?”

“I wouldn’t say my -”

But Namjoon is cut off by a smattering of Korean, Seokjin snorting into his cup of ramen and Jimin laughing out loud at something. Hoseok simply goes “no, no, no” in Korean while Namjoon sighs, and the former notices Kaya and shakes his head.

“He’s saying she was -” His eyes flit to Namjoon for confirmation “- badass.”

“That’s… that’s stretching it a bit,” says Namjoon weakly, but Seokjin waves him off.

“No, no, he’s right,” he says quickly. “Not badass, but like…” He struggles for a bit and finally says a Korean word, and Kaya dubs it in her head as ballsy. “Didn’t she also have a motorcycle?”

“That was her brother’s. Can we -”

“Oh, yeah,” interrupts Taehyung, ignoring Namjoon entirely. Kaya’s once again taken aback by his casual elegance from his spot next to Jungkook, unashamedly sprawled on the ground with his hands behind his head. “She drove us home in her car once, remember?” he asks, looking at Jimin who nods. “She drove so fast, I almost threw up.”

“Doesn’t Dilara drive faster?” Jimin asks innocently, grinning when Taehyung bites his lip.

“Much faster,” answers Jungkook, taking the ramen Seokjin offers him and scooping a mouthful into his mouth. “Explains why she has all those guy fans,” he adds, slurping the noodles.

There are snickers around the room and even Namjoon chuckles, but the name finally clicks in Kaya’s mind. “Wait, Dilara? Dilara Komyshan? You - you guys know who she is?” she asks, not suspecting Formula One was popular in this country at all.

Jungkook’s eyes go wide and Jimin turns to her, comically shocked. From her other side, Namjoon nudges her. “How do you know her?” he asks, a bit incredulous.

“I mean, I know of her. I live in Amsterdam. The whole country is a shrine to Max Verstappen, especially now that he’s started being in the running for world champion… anyway, she’s his teammate.” Kaya waits for him to nod slowly in confirmation. “They’re a legendary pairing. I saw them race in Zandvoort last year. I told you, remember?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“When did you guys meet her?”

There’s silence until Namjoon speaks up again. “We met her in - in Japan last year. We were there for Honda.”

“Oh, yeah, you told me. Did you get to meet Alex Turner, too? Actually, no, they probably weren’t dating back then, but -”

“What?”

Kaya breaks off, realising Taehyung’s spoken in Korean. “Uh, yeah, I don’t think they started dating till earlier this year, actually - or, at least that’s when they became public -”

“Um… Alex Turner?” Namjoon’s spoken this time, and there’s something too deliberate in his tone.

She hesitates. “Yeah… from the Arctic Monkeys,” she says slowly. “They were performing at this club in London and my friend Marianne had an extra ticket because her girlfriend couldn’t make it…” She realises she’s rambling and pulls herself together. “Anyway, Dilara Komyshan was there and… well, it certainly looked like they were a couple.”

There’s not too much ambiguity in the way she says it, despite her refraining from detail as much as possible. The silence is clear now and it’s starting to make her uneasy, as though there’s something everyone but her is in on. She almost jumps when Jimin speaks from next to her.

“Are you sure it was her?”

“Yeah, pretty sure… wait, I have a selfie with her,” she mutters, reaching for her phone and swiping through her gallery, relieved for something to do. She finds the picture and both Namjoon and Jimin lean in from the other side to look at it. It’s in a dimly lit area, with all the members of Arctic Monkeys, her friend Marianne, Kaya herself, and Dilara Komyshan, with three people separating Kaya and Dilara.

Jimin moves away, sighing, while Namjoon leans closer and zooms in. She catches a whiff of his woody cologne and her toes curl automatically on the bare floor.

“Oh. Crap.”

Kaya looks up at him curiously to see him looking in the opposite direction before he closes his eyes, as though just spotting a problem. She turns to see Taehyung stalk out of the room, too conspicuously for it to be a coincidence, and something suddenly falls into place, something so obvious that she can’t believe she didn’t catch it the moment he interrupted her the first time.

“Oh, God,” she whispers, cringing and turning back to her boyfriend, “are they -”

“Something like that,” he mutters, sighing.

“Shit. I had no idea. I -”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Even we don’t, really. We just know they met in Japan and… got close.”

There’s an awkward silence for a moment, the movie playing uselessly in the background, before Jimin gets to his feet. “I should…”

“Oh, of course,” she says immediately, shuffling her legs so he can step out from behind the coffee table. “Tell him I’m sorry,” she adds uneasily, sighing when Jimin nods reassuringly before disappearing into the hallway.

The embarrassment doesn’t disappear, though. It takes a backseat for a while, once the movie is over and there’s some general chatter about dinner and what to watch next. Seokjin leaves midway once he gets a phone call, already pulling on his shoes before the call even ends.

“It’s Nari,” is all he says, in Korean, before ducking out. They carry on from where they left off, Jimin eventually rejoining everyone but making some thin excuse for Taehyung that absolutely nobody believes. Namjoon, preempting her reaction, hugs her to him a bit more before telling her to let it go.

Even two hours later, once they reach Namjoon’s apartment, Kaya isn’t able to.

“You think he’ll be okay?” she asks, stepping out of the car.

“Yes, Kaya, he will,” says Namjoon, sighing and closing his door shut. “I told you. Let it go.”

Kaya frowns. “I just can’t believe I didn’t figure it out,” she mutters after a moment. “I’m usually a lot better at reading people,” she adds, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

If he catches on, he doesn’t respond. Kaya bites her lip, deciding that she isn’t imagining his aloofness after all. It had started a little while before they’d left the dorm, but in the midst of five other men talking and laughing in Korean, she couldn’t be certain and it hadn’t been that obvious either.

The walk to the car had been quiet, something she’d chalked down to tiredness, but the actual car ride had been strange, too. They had a running joke ever since he’d gotten his licence last year where she’d give him a dramatic pep talk as he started the car, keeping it up until he hit the road, and making a big show of it once they reached their destination. She’d been about to start tonight as well but before she could even get a word out, he’d reversed out of the parking lot, his jaw harder than usual.

Now, she follows him silently into his apartment, frowning and trying to recreate the night in her mind to guess what might be bothering him. They enter and take off their shoes by the door, Namjoon turning on the light behind her.

“Do you want a drink?” she asks, taking off her jacket and walking inside, stopping near the kitchen island.

“Didn’t we just have a lot to drink?”

“Not really. You drove home.”

Namjoon seems to consider this. “I don’t want a drink,” he says finally, opening the fridge behind her and retrieving a bottle of water.

Kaya is dumbfounded for a moment, noting belatedly that this is the first time he’s ever iced her out like this - if that is indeed what he’s doing. She watches him walk over to the bookshelf and scan the spines, quietly drinking the water. Her guess is he’s already finished the book he started yesterday, but the way his back looks stiff and his jaw is still hard, she doubts he’s actually looking for a second book right now.

Normally, her instinct would be to let him be, knowing he’ll talk to her when he wants to. It was one of the most important aspects of their relationship she’d seen change over time: his reluctance to confide in her, as though afraid he would demotivate her by venting to her. She’d had to remind him more than once that he wasn’t her leader, that he absolutely could vent to her if he needed to. It had been hard for him, but once he’d consciously started opening up to her, their relationship only felt stronger.

But this feels different. She can’t fathom what, but something about this feels directed at her. She’s not one for mind games, though, so she simply sighs. “Okay, do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks softly.

Namjoon’s hand holding the bottle momentarily pauses halfway up to his mouth, before he continues. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Really?”

The pause is longer this time, as he continues drinking. He’s definitely not focusing on the books anymore. Finally, he swallows a mouthful of water and exhales. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

There we go. “I don’t even know what it is,” she says, somewhat relieved he’s at least responding. “Why can’t you just tell me? If something’s bothering you, I want to know.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” she states. “Did you want to stay back and watch the movie? Did I make you leave too early?”

“I wanted to leave before you did,” he points out, turning around to face her and leaning against the bookshelf. His eyes flicker towards hers before looking away, and he crosses his arms loosely against his torso. “And Pulp Fiction is not very high on my list of movies to watch.”

Me, neither. But he already knows that, and he knows why. Kaya moves on without dwelling on it. “Then what? Is it the joke I made about Nick?” she guesses, referring to a throwaway line about her ex-boyfriend she’d made when the boys had been arguing over which movie to watch. It had seemed harmless, but she also knew that Namjoon, for better or for worse, had a jealous streak he wasn’t proud of.

“No,” he mutters.

He’s also proud. Kaya shakes her head. “If it is, I apologise. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but I can understand if you didn’t like it. If that’s what it is, then I’m sorry.” When Namjoon doesn’t respond and simply looks in the other direction, she sighs in frustration. “What is it?”

His tongue is poking into his lower lip, and his jaw looks as hard as rock. She’s never seen anything bother him so much and the fact that she doesn’t know what it is doesn’t sit well with her at all.

Finally, he speaks. “I don’t want to start a fight,” he says quietly.

“Well, I don’t want to spend the rest of the night wondering what’s bothering you so much that you can’t even look at me.” Her eyes bore into him but he still doesn’t turn. “If it becomes a fight, we have a fight. And then we move on from it.”

“I don’t…” Namjoon trails off, clicking his tongue in what she takes to be annoyance. His eyes flicker to her again before averting. “Can we drop this?”

“Not now that you’re making such a big deal about it.”

“I’m not making a big deal about anything. You’re the one who won’t stop talking about it.”

Kaya scoffs incredulously, her heart already starting to race painfully. “You’re the one being evasive,” she says tightly, trying not to raise her voice as he runs a hand over his face. “Namjoon, you’ve never been like this,” she adds in a smaller voice. “Can you just tell me?”

It seems to give him pause, too, for he closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “I don’t want to upset you,” he says quietly.

There’s a strange and uncomfortable sensation in her stomach at his change in tone. This is bad. “I appreciate that,” she murmurs steadily. “But I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

Namjoon simply looks at her, observing, before pursing his lips and turning away. The dimple appears faintly in his cheek, the one that had popped as he’d grinned down at her in bed this morning, and in the kitchen at the dorm, and on the sofa when they’d been watching their debut music videos.

She shakes her head in disappointment. “I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything that would piss you off this much except for that joke about Nick, which was about something that happened five years ago but if that’s the case, then I -”

“Why didn’t you ever report him?”

Namjoon’s words cut through her sentence, voice deep and steady, yet seeming louder than anything she’s heard him say all night.

“What?” she asks in a low voice, wondering if she could’ve possibly misheard his words.

He’s looking right at her now, finally, and she suddenly wishes he wouldn’t. “Five years,” he says slowly, his voice trembling with barely concealed emotion. “It’s been five years, and he still has a hold over your life. Why didn’t you report him?”

Her breathing feels loud to her own ears. “Please tell me we’re still talking about Nick,” she says quietly. Namjoon doesn’t answer, and Kaya takes that as a confirmation.

“I guess,” he begins after a moment, as though choosing his words carefully, “I can’t understand that after everything that happened, after everything he did to you -” His voice breaks and he bites his lip. “How could you not report him?” he asks softly, shaking his head.

“For starters,” she answers, voice oddly toneless, “I couldn’t see his face.”

“I - I know. But… there are ways for the police to do this stuff, to find people based on evidence…” It’s clear from his words that he’s thought about this before. “You didn’t tell anyone, though. Except -”

“Marianne and Nick,” she finishes. “Yeah, I told my closest friend and my boyfriend. That was enough for me.”

“And they didn’t tell you to go to the police?” Namjoon scoffs softly, but it doesn’t sound directed at her. “Not even your boyfriend?”

“He - he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore at the time,” she stutters, feeling rather like they’re about to digress. “And you know that. Why would you bring up -”

“Because it’s been five years, Kaya!” he exclaims, looking truly hassled now. “It’s been five years, and you still can’t watch a movie without being affected by it! And he’s just - he’s just free! How is that fair?”

She bites her lip, her heart racing. Iconic dialogues of an iconic movie, floating out through a loudspeaker in the common room hours before dawn, all the way into the empty streets of a university campus… her stomach churns.

“I thought you didn’t care about watching Pulp Fiction.”

“I don’t care about - come on, you know that’s not my point.”

“I can watch it whenever I want,” she states, hearing the tremor in her voice. “I have watched it, since then. I can - don’t you dare walk away, Kim Namjoon!” she says loudly, as he begins making his way into the living room.

He halts immediately, however, turning around. “I’m not walking away,” he promises, taking a seat on the cream-coloured couch. She takes a step back and feels the back of a chair dig into her spine. She’d told him about the worst night of her life at this kitchen island nearly a year ago, coming up behind him as he worked on his laptop and wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, whispering calmly to him that if he had a minute, there was something important she needed to talk to him about.

They’d been together officially for six months by then, even though they’d been hovering back and forth for a few months prior to that. A level of trust had been established by then, though, not to mention a profound sense of safety she felt with him, even when he was halfway across the world from her. Later that night, after she’d told him and he’d expressed both anger and support but mostly shock, they’d cuddled on that very couch as they watched Cloud Atlas.

Sharing her secret hadn’t been easy, but no part of her regretted it. As she watches him rest his elbows on his thighs and run his fingers through his hair, she wonders if she’s finally about to.

Namjoon sighs like he’s bracing himself. “I’m not saying you can’t watch the movie, Kaya. I’m saying you don’t, for a reason. And that’s his fault.”

“A lot of things are his fault. Reporting him wouldn’t have changed that. Even if I knew whom to actually report in the first place.”

“You weren’t even drinking,” he reminds her. “Even if all you remembered was the colour of his jacket, they could’ve at least narrowed it down to -”

“No, they couldn’t! It was dark, it was - I could’ve been mistaken,” she stammers, starting to feel anxious now as the edges of her mind start letting in scraps of memories from that night.

“You were not mistaken. You’re the most detail-oriented person I know.”

“Well, unless you were there that night, I don’t see how you could possibly have an opinion on that.”

Namjoon sighs. "This is why I didn't want to bring this up, Kaya.”

“No, please, I’m glad you did,” she says immediately, scoffing. “I’m glad I know what you think now. Have you been judging me for this ever since I told you last year?”

“I am not judging you - how can you say that?" he demands, looking stung. "I care about you. I love you, and I hate that you still have to make sacrifices and compromises, even if it is just over a movie. You’re still haunted by it, and he’s roaming around free!”

“And you think reporting him would’ve helped that?” Kaya exclaims. “Do you think we’d be back at the dorm watching Pulp Fiction right now if I’d gone to the cops? If I’d been neck-deep in paperwork, being asked to recount the incident a hundred times to a hundred different people about a guy whose face I couldn’t see and voice I could barely make out, only to be asked why I was walking alone around campus while wearing shorts?”

“I - I don’t know. I’m not -” He drops his head in his hands, breathing slowly and deeply. “I just… I fucking hate him, Kaya,” he confesses quietly, as though letting her in on a secret. “I hate him so, so much. I want to hurt him - I want to kill him with my bare hands.”

Kaya exhales shakily, never having heard him speak this disdainfully before, with this much hatred, about anyone or anything. “I hate him, too,” she murmurs after a moment. “Of course, I do. But I also had finals in two weeks and believe it or not, I knew my priorities.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t, I’m saying -” He sighs in frustration, his tongue poking into his lower lip again. “I just wish he would have suffered the consequences. Or just suffered.”

The fury in his voice is evident now, and is now starting to show on his face, but Kaya tries to hold her ground. She has to. “I told you: I had finals. I had a masters’ seat in the balance waiting for me in London, I had graduation - I had a million other things that I thought were more important for me. I couldn’t report him,” she adds after a moment, hearing the desperation in her own voice. “I couldn’t afford to get caught up in it.”

“You… you could report it,” he corrects her in a low voice. “You chose not to.”

“Yes, and that was my choice to make.” She grits her teeth, feeling her eyes start to sting. “I didn’t think this far ahead and anticipate that five years down the line, my boyfriend would be making me defend that decision to him.”

“That’s not what I’m doing! I care about -”

“Then listen to me! Listen to what I’m saying! It didn’t matter to me that -”

“How could it not matter? Kaya, he got away with it!” Namjoon stands up now, and his height is suddenly looming, even from across the room. “He’s out there, still, and he’s living his life while you’re -” He breaks off.

Kaya forces herself to breathe. “While I’m what?”

“While you’re still hurting.”

There’s no stopping it now; she feels her vision blur. “I’m perfectly happy with my life,” she says, her voice trembling.

“I’m not saying you aren’t. I just wish you’d -” He breaks off again and sighs, while Kaya turns around and lowers her head, unable to look at him any longer. Her chest feels constricted now, and she realises after a moment that it’s because she’s holding her breath. Letting it out seems dangerous, though, like she’s setting herself up to break down.

It’s a tall order for her to cry in front of anyone; it makes her feel uncomfortable and she avoids it at all costs. She wonders for the first time if it’s got anything to do with this incident, and acknowledges with a heaviness that any comfort she might have had in succumbing to tears in front of Namjoon has disappeared, at least for tonight.

“I just wish you’d see how much more you could’ve done,” he says, his tone taking on a different quality, something that reminds her inexplicably of Nick for a moment. It makes her feel inadequate and her heart hurts, even as Namjoon continues. “Even if he didn’t end up behind bars, you could’ve called him out publicly. You saw his varsity jacket - that college could’ve been made aware that one of their students is a -”

“Stop,” murmurs Kaya weakly, but he doesn’t hear her.

“It’s a world of things, and it only takes one to create change. I mean… how do you know he hasn’t done this again, to someone else?”

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and Kaya feels her chest finally unclench as she swallows a sob. Her face and throat burn in discomfort as she tries not to make a sound, her hair falling down the sides of her face and shielding it from his view. Namjoon has fallen silent; whether it’s due to her reaction or because he realises the implication of what he’s said, she doesn’t know. At the moment, she can’t bear to be around him for another moment to find out.

She opens her eyes to see a tear fall onto the white kitchen island and hastily wipes it, taking a shaky breath as quietly as she can. “I’m, uh -” She breaks off, cringing when she hears the tremble in her voice. She turns slightly in his direction, not looking at him. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight, if you don’t mind.”

Namjoon watches her turn and leave with a sinking heart, her smaller figure padding quietly down the corridor and passing his bedroom before she disappears from his view. There’s no point in going after her right now; it won’t be a fruitful argument, if that’s what they’re indeed in the middle of.

There’s a twinge of regret taking form in his chest that stings when he hears the door to the guest room open and close. He sighs; he knew he shouldn’t have initiated this topic.

He’d had no intention of doing so. After she’d confided in him about it, it had probably come up once, and only when she’d brought it up. The night she’d told him, he hadn’t dreamed in a million years that this was the important thing she wanted to discuss. He hadn’t been able to process it past a certain point initially; he’d listened in stunned silence as she recounted that night, skipping the most horrific details (for whose benefit, he wasn’t sure, but he was thankful) and ending it with a short yet heartfelt declaration of how much she trusted him.

Kaya had seemed relieved after that, almost like telling him had been a catharsis of sorts. She’d been just as affectionate as normal after that, and Namjoon had silently gone along with it in a daze, his mind replaying her words and expressions the entire time, including when they were watching a movie on the couch later. It wasn’t until they’d gone to bed that the shock had finally worn off and he’d been able to register everything she’d told him, and the white hot anger at a faceless stranger had coursed through his body in a way he’d never felt before.

Namjoon drops his head in his hands, the living room suddenly feeling far too big and empty. He closes his eyes, trying half-heartedly to search for an apology or words of comfort but nothing comes to mind, not now that his mind is occupied with this.

Earlier this evening, when Yoongi had suggested Pulp Fiction, Namjoon had immediately expected Kaya to say no. But she hadn’t, and one by one the members had voted and before they knew it, the opening credits were playing. He’d nudged her gently, asking her silently if she was really okay with this, and she’d shrugged and given him a small smile before settling into his side.

Even after the movie began, Namjoon’s attention remained on Kaya, observing her for any movements that might signal her discomfort. It was an odd detail that had made it through the incident, the loud volume at which the movie was playing inside the campus common room, the dramatic and aggressive dialogues that floated out being the only thing her mind had been able to process.

She’d given nothing away today, though, not until halfway through when John Travolta, Samuel L Jackson and Quentin Tarantino’s voices had blared through the television amidst gunshots and male voices yelling, and Kaya’s face had suddenly crumpled.

It had been brief, a moment of heartbreaking agony that Namjoon had been powerless to stop, before she’d immediately straightened her expression. But he wasn’t fooled, and he’d taken it as a cue to casually say to everyone else that they were going to be heading out. Kaya hadn’t protested, for which he was glad, because the fury at her assailant was returning swiftly and Namjoon’s only focus from here on out was to ensure he drove them back safely to his apartment.

There’s a soft rattle, like an ominous rumble. Namjoon peeks out from behind his hands, wondering briefly if it’s an earthquake before he realises it’s him. His leg is jerking up and down, as though of its own accord, and the movement is making the wooden coffee table shake.

Just… just a jacket. Looked like a varsity football one. Yellow, I think… there were too many people from too many colleges on campus that week. So I don’t know.

It feels like his limbs are moving with a mind of their own, making him stand up and walk over to the kitchen island where Kaya had been standing a little while ago, his hands reaching for the sleek, silver laptop he’d left there this morning. He’s opened the screen and switched it on before even returning to the sofa, and the moment he’s logged in, he goes straight to the browser.

Here, Namjoon’s stuck. Watching the cursor blink, as though waiting for him to show what he knows, he chews on his lower lip. Finally, he types Colleges in New York, only to get almost a hundred results. He combines it with football team, before realising he doesn’t know if she meant American football or soccer, so he replaces it with sports team.

The results go into the hundreds now, with the swim teams and water polo and chess players popping up on his screen. He sighs, suddenly feeling ridiculous, when he spots a picture. Frowning, he clicks on it until it fits his screen: it’s of a Caucasian male, early twenties, with dark hair and dark eyes. He’s smiling straight into the camera, tall and confident - and wearing a yellow jersey.

It’s like a dull punch to his stomach, for even though Namjoon knows neither head nor tail about this individual - his eyes flicker to the name in the caption to see Mark Rivers - it occurs to him that the person who attacked Kaya, who hurt her all those years ago like a coward in the dark - that person could be Mark Rivers.

Namjoon forces himself to take a deep breath before slowly scrolling down, begrudgingly noting that nearly every male he comes across could have been him. He’s in no mood to back down, though. The image of Kaya all those months ago, her face carefully calm as he told him about that night, her face earlier this evening when Pulp Fiction had been playing, every single scene in Namjoon’s imagination that reveals itself in the darkest of times when he thinks about how it might have played out five years ago… He shakes his head, resolutely opening multiple tabs on his browser, each with a different college and its sports teams on the screen.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, scrolling from picture to picture, eyes skimming over the names and the sports. At some point, in order to narrow it down, he makes an executive decision to filter out sports that aren’t high intensity, for while she hadn’t ever said it explicitly, she’d implied a level of strength that she hadn’t been able to fight back against.

Swallowing the bile in his throat, he moves on quickly. It also occurs to him soon enough that just because NYU was in New York, it didn’t mean that every college team that had landed up there was also from New York, and Namjoon is thus forced to expand his search to outside the city as well. He restricts it to the tristate area, however, and continues looking for links in the college websites about alumni and galleries with pictures of their sports teams.

He combs through the links, looking for teams or graduating classes that would have overlapped with Kaya’s senior year. Some of the links have members listed by name and Namjoon pounces on them with a vengeance, flipping through picture after picture of former students who eventually start to blur into each other.

There are some faces who, for some reason, just strike Namjoon as suspicious. He starts bookmarking the names, copy-pasting them onto an Excel sheet to maintain some kind of list, some kind of indication that this unorganized exercise he’s conducting in this frame of mind isn’t a waste, that there’s actually something fruitful coming out of it.

Namjoon pauses, his mind still working amidst the tiredness and a dull pain between his eyes that he knows is the onset of a headache. He needs to narrow the search down further - it’s the only way. His fingers fly across the keyboard, the typos increasing both in number and his irritation, and he starts searching for known college campus assaults in Kaya’s senior year, along with two years before and after. He’s mostly met with newspaper and magazine articles about campus safety and the like, but names elude him.

Somehow, he starts getting directed to chat rooms and message boards that have been inactive for years, and while he wishes to interact with none of them, he scrolls through the hundreds of messages, pausing every time he sees a name mentioned. Finally, in what seems to be the fifth or sixth message board started by a former sorority girl half a decade ago, he sees a name that makes his heart leap weakly.

He can’t understand why at first; it doesn’t sound too common but something about it stands out to him. The message doesn’t even mention a school associated but after a moment, he thinks he knows what it could be. Vaguely seeing the pieces in his mind, about to fall into place, he goes back to the Excel sheet, and searches for the name, gasping softly when the name matches.

It’s at that moment that he spots two numbers: the time, showing him that it’s nearly three am, and the row number of the name he’s just searched, showing him row two hundred and thirty-six. He squeezes his eyes shut, unwilling to acknowledge how far gone he is.

It was… it probably didn’t last more than fifteen minutes. It just felt like a lifetime. But turns out it was just one long scene of Pulp Fiction.

Clenching his fist on the keyboard so he isn’t tempted to throw the laptop against the wall, Namjoon tries to gather himself. In a desperate move, he enters the first name into Naver to find a LinkedIn profile. It’s him; it’s the same person, but his profile picture is no longer of a college student with a cocky grin and bangs, but an older version in a suit and tie, gazing calmly at Namjoon through the screen. A half-hearted scroll shows him that this person - Geoffrey Dominic - is currently residing in Dubai and working for an airline company.

Something about it makes Namjoon’s throat close up in frustration, and it takes him a moment to realise it’s the fact that any of these men, or all of them, could be anywhere in the world now. The way Kaya was in London less than three months after the incident, any of these men could be anywhere else, across the world from her or even in the same building as her in Amsterdam, and they would have no way of knowing.

Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, his fingers trembling, and feels a sense of such helplessness that it makes him want to scream. It occurs to him with some regret that Kaya might have been feeling the same, only magnified to proportions he would never understand. He suspects now - or, rather, he’d suspected all the way back then but didn’t want to admit it - that she was probably driven to tears before she’d quietly declared her intention to go to bed, effectively ending their argument.

Keeping the laptop aside, he stands for the first time in hours and winces when his knees cramp. Stretching his legs and making his way inside the apartment towards the bedrooms, he passes by his room; not only is his mind too cluttered to sleep right now, he also can’t imagine doing so in his bedroom, without Kaya. He stops in front of the guest room, his heart hammering when he imagines her in there, at her choice to actively be apart from him for the night.

They need to talk about this. He’s willing to concede that he might have been too harsh, that he may have brought up the topic too suddenly - but he cannot let this argument fizzle out and have them pretend to have moved on from it in the morning. Not this particular discussion, not after the way they left it tonight, and not with how Kaya left.

Namjoon stares at the door, hoping something will knock on it for him. His hand won’t move and with each passing second, his tiredness and frustration with his unsuccessful investigation turns into regret and something that resembles guilt.

He wonders if she’s crying in there; the thought makes his heart twist. If it’s true, if that’s what she’s doing inside, he has to go in there. Maybe he’ll apologise, maybe they’ll agree to pick it up some other time under calmer circumstances.

The moment his hand goes up to the door, however, he realises it’s been hours since their argument; she’s most likely asleep. It occurs to him, out of nowhere, that all her things are in his room. He pictures her, alone in bed amidst the covers, still in the jeans and top she’d worn today. It’s one night out of the ten they have during her stay in Seoul this time, and they’re sleeping apart - and it’s seeming more and more clear by now that it’s his fault.

The fist that’s resting against the door, about to knock, becomes flat. Namjoon leans against it, suddenly exhausted, feeling like it’s the closest he’s going to get to her tonight, wanting to let her know he’s still here. He can’t go inside now, though, even if she is asleep. As much as it may kill him to be out here, on the other side of the door that she closed on him, he can’t not respect her wishes, especially tonight. He doesn’t want to leave either, though, so after a moment, he turns around and slides down against the door until he’s sitting on the floor, knees bent and feet flat on the ground.

Namjoon hasn’t a clue what to expect in the morning, how they’re ever going to move past this. If it becomes a fight, we have a fight. And then we move on from it. He closes his eyes as he replays her words in his mind. They were rational and pragmatic, just like everything about her he’d known he needed in his life from the day he’d met her. This probably wasn’t what she had in mind, though, a small part of his mind chimes in. It’s true, and he simply hopes she’ll remember her own words tomorrow.

He sits there for a while, contemplating more than once if he should quietly step inside. He could slip into bed with her, maybe gently hold her to him, possibly kiss her shoulder in the dark and ensure she doesn’t wake up alone. The thought makes his chest hurt but he knows he can’t, so in a pathetic attempt to distract himself from it, he picks up his phone and scrolls through it for a while, remembering with a dull sort of victory that he’s a day away from his credit card bill being due for payment.

His wallet isn’t in his pocket, though, and when he trudges into the living room, he finds it’s not in his jacket pocket or anywhere else on the coffee table or the kitchen island. Mildly panicking, Namjoon shuffles between both rooms, the only places he’s set foot in all night, and searches behind jars and under the sofa, until he’s forced to conclude - and hope to high heavens - that it’s probably in the car.

It feels like the longest distance, from his penthouse to the building basement, but he takes his keys and heads out anyway. He locates the wallet in between the driver’s seat and the gear shift, lodged in the gap and peeking out apologetically when he reaches over to tug it out. Shutting the door and turning the car off, he rubs his eyes, wondering briefly that if he isn’t able to sleep, if he should head to the studio for some late night editing.

Only somewhat intrigued by the idea, he exits the building on foot, deciding that the solution to being stuck in his living room with the results of his deep-dive into the worst night of his girlfriend’s life probably isn’t another tiny room with a laptop. He walks along the pavement outside, shivering slightly in the chilly air in the absence of a jacket, in nothing but the white t-shirt he’s been wearing all day.

It was late… really late. I went back to my room. I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I just wanted to sleep, possibly forever, but by the time I got into bed, it was already dawn outside.

Around this time of the night, then. Out of nowhere, Namjoon feels his face twist, the memory of her words and her voice feeling like a punch to his stomach. He stops in his tracks, dropping his face into his hands and squeezing his eyes shut, as though hoping it will get rid of everything, every memory of that night she’s recounted to him in the tamest fashion, every horrifying image that his imagination has ever created in his mind, bringing back the particular kind of rage that’s only ever shown its face when he’s thought about how a tall, faceless man had hurt Kaya.

Another cool breeze forces him to snap out of it, and he immediately crosses the street, hearing vague honking and blurred yelling but able to focus on none of it. He enters a coffee shop, a dimly lit one with fluorescent lighting that makes his sleep-deprived brain shirk away uncomfortably, but he rallies, going over to the counter and ordering a plain Americano to go. The moment he picks it up and turns towards the door, he realises he has no desire to go back into the cold.

Taking a seat at a single table in the corner and reasonably sure no one here will recognise him, he takes a sip of his coffee and turns on his phone, his fingers automatically going onto Naver and waiting, once again, for the fury in his mind to tell him what to do. It does no such thing, though, and eventually Namjoon half-heartedly enters in the same search he’d last put in at the apartment, regarding known culprits in New York campus assault cases.

He finds he has no energy to scroll anymore, though, none of that adrenaline that pushed him to search college websites, sports teams, cross-reference them with age and whatnot. His mind is awake, but his anger isn’t as easily in his grasp anymore, not when he’s aware of Kaya back in the apartment, alone. She’s safe, of course; his building has some of the highest security in Seoul’s residential areas, and his floor is only accessible by a select few who possess key cards. Additionally, the only person in the world who has a key card to his own apartment, apart from him, is Kaya.

Namjoon hopes she’s sleeping. She’d been working unbelievably hard in the weeks leading up to her visit here so she wouldn’t have to work as much on the trip; coupled with the lingering jet lag, he’s reasonably hopeful that sleep would have caught up to her by now. His chest aches when he thinks, once again, of how she left the room in tears at the end of their argument. At the moment, he’d let her go because not only had it been evident that he’d possibly pushed her too far, but because a part of him was also frustrated that he would never be able to express to her just how much it hurt to see her hurting, and how much he wished he’d be able to give her the justice she deserved.

His stomach churns uncomfortably when he pictures her again, alone in the penthouse. Despite the security, the fear of her being hurt again, in absolutely anyway, nauseates him. It was the hardest part when she’d told him about that night, the part where she’d made him promise that he wouldn’t look at her differently and wouldn’t treat her like a victim.

Namjoon hadn’t done either, to the best of his abilities; his worry for her safety and security while she lived alone in Amsterdam pre-dated his knowledge about her past. He’d tried never to impose on how she lived, however, apart from reminding her every night to check if she’d locked the door or to let him know when she made it home after a late night in the library. It’s the one thing, even now, that gives him some comfort all the way in a different timezone, but he doubts she’ll ever know the intensity of his desire to keep her safe.

He scrolls down the screen once, the words now truly blurring into each other, until something catches his eye. You’re Not Alone: Supporting a Survivor, with further text undereath. Namjoon hesitates before opening it, spending the next ten minutes on each and every word of the article until he reaches the end and lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

He clicks on the next suggested link, and the next, and the next, until they’re all basically saying the same thing. A soft ding catches his attention and he looks up to see the last customer besides him leaving the restaurant. The waitress smiles politely at the older man before surreptitiously glancing at Namjoon, and he takes the hint, realising also that it’s half past four now and Kaya’s still alone in his apartment.

After leaving a generous tip, he heads out, the tiredness of the last twenty or so hours finally sinking in. The walk back is cold but the coffee helps and by the time he reaches his building, all he can think about is his comfortable sofa and the stacks of ramen cups in his pantry.

Over an hour later, after two cups of ramen and a small cup of chocolate ice cream he’d had no intention of eating, he finds himself watching a mediocre episode of the latest k-drama. It’s on mute, for any sound right now might make his head explode, but the subtitles work well enough. He wills sleep to find him; he can’t bring himself to get into his own bed right now, but a few minutes of sleep on this couch would suffice for a bit…

His eyelids start getting heavy just as the first rays of light start peeking in through the curtains, but he’s jolted awake by a sound that he realises a second later is a door opening and closing. His heart racing, he straightens up to see Kaya step gingerly out of the hallway, her long hair slightly dishevelled from her sleep. She’s in nothing but one of his white t-shirts, hanging loose on her smaller frame and reaching the middle of her thighs.

She stops at the edge of the kitchen island, close to where she’d been standing last night, and clears her throat. “Did you sleep at all?” she asks, frowning.

“Not really,” he answers softly, hearing the hoarseness in his own voice. “How - how did you sleep?”

“Late,” she says, and offers no further explanation. After a moment, she bites her lip. “I thought you…” She licks her lips and looks at the ground, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “I heard the door close.”

“Yeah… I dropped my wallet in the car.” He watches as she nods, and it takes him a second to realise she was probably thinking something else when she said it. “And went to get a coffee, down the block.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You went to get coffee at four am?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Namjoon sees her eyes dart to the plastic coffee cup on the table, and a pang goes through his heart. “Did you - did you think I left?”

Kaya doesn’t answer, and it suddenly makes him want to cry. Need to start somewhere. He clears his throat. “Kaya, I want to just -”

“No, wait.” She holds up a hand, her gaze still on the ground. He sees her swallow and take a deep breath before looking up, this time straight at him. “I think there are some things I need to say. I don’t think I was really very clear the last time we spoke about this, but… I don’t regret anything.” She pauses, as though waiting for him to contradict her. When he says nothing, she continues.

“I’ve thought about this more than you know. I’ve thought about every single moment,” she says. “I’ve wondered why I had to have been walking alone on that street on that night, or why I went to NYU or why I didn’t scream louder so that someone would hear me. But it’s pointless. I was walking back from a committee meeting where we were making posters for an adoption drive at a dog shelter, which I don’t regret. I lived in one of the most amazing cities in the world and made friends for life because I went to NYU, and I can’t regret that.”

She pauses again, and this time Namjoon nods, if only to let her know he’s listening to every word.

“I chose not to report him because I was scared, and because I had next to no description of him. I know women have pressed charges with less, and I respect the hell out of that kind of courage. But I had finals, which my masters’ admission in London was contingent on. I had graduation, where I had to make a speech to my entire class. I had an internship to finish up which would round up my entire resumé - I had a world of things waiting for me.”

Her voice is trembling now, and Namjoon has to make a conscious effort to not walk over to her right now and pull her into his arms. The words are tumbling out of her mouth as though she’s been thinking about them all night, with a fear and defiance he’s both sad and proud of.

“I didn’t want to get caught up in - in spending hours at the police station, in having my classmates talk about me behind my back…” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not saying it was easy to choose not to do it. It haunted me every day for years, but I - I had to choose me. Who else would? I had to choose my future - and I was not going to let him or what he did define me or make my decisions for me.”

“Every single day I’m glad I chose me because five years in, I’m living in a beautiful city, I’m the youngest doctoral candidate in the university, I’m working on a world famous research grant under Professor Woodstock who is a scholar -” She scoffs in mild disbelief, just as she had the day she’d secured the research project, and Namjoon can’t help but smile a bit “- I have good friends, I have a boyfriend who loves me, I have… I have a life. I have a good life, and I have it because I made a decision. You can - you can judge me for it… but I don’t regret it for a second. I just hope you understand that.”

Kaya bites her lip, feeling her vision blur again just like last night, as she watches him nod slowly, as though processing everything she’s just said. She makes no further motion, leaving the ball in his court. It feels like the most vulnerable she’s ever been before him, for she knows it’s a sliding scale. Either he does what the man she fell in love with would do, which would be to instantly understand her… or she finds out something new about him today, and they acknowledge the fundamental differences in their outlooks.

Namjoon rests his elbows on his thighs, running his fingers through his hair. The platinum blond looks slightly darker - or maybe it’s the light - as though making it clear that he hasn’t slept all night. He looks straight at her, though, and for a moment she’s comforted with the expression in his eyes.

“I, uh -” He sighs, his gaze flickering to the floor. “I tried to look him up last night.”

Her heart stops. “You did what?”

He immediately holds up both hands. “I know, it was a - a violation of your privacy, and I’m sorry. It’s not like I found anything,” he adds after a moment, and she doesn’t know if she’s imagining a note of defeat in his voice. “I don’t know if I actually thought I would, but it felt like I wanted to. Looking back, though, I don’t even know if that would help.”

“Kaya, I -” He exhales, and the look in his eyes becomes even more pronounced. “I worry about you,” he says after a moment. “I worry whenever you’re alone in your apartment, when you tell me you’re staying late in the library, when you’re drinking with friends… even last night, when I was twenty minutes away from you, I - I worried.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to -”

“No, I - I know. You’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, his gaze not moving away from her, like he’s seeing her in the flesh after a long time. “I still worry, though. And it’s okay - I like worrying about you,” he adds, a playful smile flashing in his eyes momentarily, almost as though he can hear her heart flutter.

“It’s got nothing to do with your capabilities. I just worry because - well, partly because it’s the only thing I can do from here - but also because…” He sighs. “God, Kaya, it would kill me if something ever happened to you. If you ever got hurt.” He finally lowers his head, and she feels her heart ache. “To know that you did get hurt and that I can’t do anything about -” He breaks off, sniffing and looking up at her.

“But that’s my problem. Worrying about you, dealing with that anger… I guess somewhere in that manic searching I did all night, something pointed me to the fact that it doesn’t matter how I feel about it. It’s not about me. Or him.”

Kaya nods, not knowing what to say. She doesn’t know what he spent all night searching for and it’s too overwhelming to try to understand, even as her brain automatically begins dissecting the various demographics and data he could’ve started slicing and dicing. “Thank you,” she whispers finally.

“Did you ever consider it?” Namjoon asks after a few seconds. “Therapy? Or counselling?”

She bites her lip and nods. “I tried it for a bit, in London. I stopped because I moved to Amsterdam,” she says, anticipating his silent question. “Finding a new person, telling them everything… It seemed like a lot. We can talk about it,” she offers softly after a moment.

Namjoon stands up then and walks over to her slowly, as though giving her enough time to back away. She doesn’t, though, for his height feels comforting again unlike during their argument last night. He stops in front of her, almost a foot’s distance between them.

“I hope you know,” he begins, his voice low, “that I would never judge you. Definitely not for anything to do with this.” He purses his lips before sighing, his dimple appearing briefly. “I’m sorry.”

Kaya nods. “You should get some sleep,” she murmurs, reaching up to touch the bags under his eyes, his fingers ghosting over his skin.

“I will.”

A few moments pass, and Kaya feels like she needs to say it again, just in case. “You can’t treat me differently, okay?”

Namjoon doesn’t answer right away. He brushes her cheekbone with his knuckle and she feels her toes curl on the bare floor. “Kaya, I’ll always be protective of you.”

It’s not an answer, but it feels like the thing she needs to hear right now. “I’ll allow it,” she murmurs, tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt. It’s almost identical to the one she’s wearing; she’d found it in the closet of the guest room and didn’t imagine he’d have a problem with her borrowing it. Sleeping in his oversized t-shirt, smelling of his detergent… it was the closest thing to comfort she’d gotten last night.

Kaya feels her throat start to hurt uncomfortably. “I need you to understand my decision, okay?” she whispers in a small voice, looking up at him, more vulnerable than she can remember. “I need you to be in my corner.”

As though he’s been waiting forever to do it, Namjoon immediately pulls her into him, kissing her forehead and wrapping his arms around her. “Of course, I am. I love you,” he whispers into her hair, and she feels him inhaling. Coconut and vanilla. Kaya buries her face into his shoulder, having missed his broad chest and strong arms so unbearably last night. “I’m always in your corner. No matter what.”

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave a review :)

#namjoon x oc #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #btswritingcafe #ficscafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #bangtaninn #bangtanwhq #houseofddaeng #52hertz #rm x reader #rm fanfic #bts rm #hyunglinenetwork

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ahappyplacefornat · 2 years

Text

RED LIGHTS

WANDAVISION and Doctor Strange: MoM spoilers ahead!

Word count: 2939

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader.

Summary: Wanda keeps seeing you, even if it's not really you.

Warnings: doctor strange: MoM spoilers and WANDAVISION, angst, angst, angst and probably a really bad writing.

Notes: GUYS I KNOW THIS BLOG IS FOR NAT BUT I JUST COULDN'T GET THIS OUT OF MY MIND.

I watched this movie the other day, where a girl couldn't get her mom out of her mind and she kept talking to her even when she knew it was just her mind not accepting her death, so I just thought, wouldn't it be cool writing that with Wanda? And in fact, it wasn't, I wanna hug her.

I might like keep writing things for Wanda...

Despair, was what Wanda was feeling. She was beginning to forget the taste of your lips, she no longer heard your laughter echoing off the walls every time she thought of you, nor could she smell your scent when she brought your clothes close to her nose, there was nothing anymore. After your death, after having you back in Westview, after meeting the beautiful children you would have together, Wanda began to think, Why?

Why couldn't she be happy?

Why couldn't she feel you anymore?

Why wasn't that wonderful life she created in that small town real?

Although it was, of course it was, it always will be for her, it will always live in her dreams, in her eyes and ears, she will forever see her family every time she closes them, every time she sleeps and stops existing in the real world, to live what she wishes was real.

When Wanda woke up, it was always the same, it seemed that the energy was drained from her body, it was as if instead of being resting, she had always been awake, waiting for you, for her children, for her happiness to suddenly wake her up.

As usual, she sat on the side of her bed and saw you, standing there, and again, as she always did, she wondered if it was really you, she knew the answer, she knew you were nothing more than a specter that her mind had created by not accepting to lose you for the second time, although, was it really twice? There were countless times when you had died in her thoughts, she relived the moment every second, no matter where she looked, the only thing there was darkness, and in that darkness your death was repeated, when you died at the hands of Thanos the first time and when she disintegrated you after Westview, the only thing she did was to watch you die, there were no more pleasant memories, she did not see you in her coffee cups, thinking about when you shared them, she did not see you in the trees, remembering when you ate together in the sunlight, nor did she see you when she looked at the now empty space in front of her, that you used to occupy to dance, to hug and kiss her, the only thing she had were the memories of the times you died.

She wasn't selfish, she didn't want revenge, she had no one to take revenge on, she didn't want to pause an entire town again so she could see you one more time, to lose you one more time, all she wanted was for you to be real, not a specter of what you once were, of what you will always be to her, she wanted to feel your love, not just remember it.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked, in the warm voice you always used to address her, that emanated love, that squeezed her heart and made her want to hug you. The cup of coffee in your hand was still steaming from how hot it was, she smiled at that, and avoided your gaze, tiredly.

"I can't sleep, not without you." She spoke hesitantly but she wasn't lying, every word was heavy, would you be disappointed in her if you actually saw her? She was in pieces.

"In fact, I think you do it even better than when I was alive" you walked around the room, you brushed some objects with your fingers and leaned your cup on the table. She didn't want to look at you, she was afraid to, because you were right, you were always right, she had the nerve to dream every night of a happy world by your side, of the 'happily ever after' she never had, she was ashamed, how did she even dare to be happy in her dreams? She didn't deserve it, maybe she never did.

"N-no, I-" she finally looked up, along with her body, she looked to where you were, but you were no longer there, your voice was now just a memory again, a blurred memory that left a sour taste on her tongue. She fell to the ground, she hit it and slapped it as many times as she could before her hands started to hurt, she stopped and cried silently, as always, alone and silent, she no longer listened to anything but the damned silence, how could silence be so loud, how could her back be as heavy as the mountains when all she did was think?

"Why are you crying?" it came back, again you were there to torment her, to show her that you were gone, that every part she couldn't remember was gone, was it really you talking? How could she know when she couldn't take her eyes off your hands that now cradled hers, cold as the North Pole, marked as if she had lived thousands of lives, damaged as if she had fought a thousand battles, she really didn't know anything "Who wanders in your mind, Wanda? is it me? No, it's our kids, isn't it? Our fake children" You released every word like poison, you infected her veins, you bristled her skin, you broke her heart, but she refused to accept it, it had all been real, she loved her children more than her own life, there is nothing she wouldn't do for them, there is nothing she wouldn't do for you.

"No" she tried to pull away, but your grip on her hands was too strong, or maybe she didn't want to move, maybe she wanted to hear what you had to say, maybe she had to.

"The children we never had because you were too weak to save me" she broke free from your grip, she stretched her red hair into a bun, she didn't want to listen to you anymore, she dared to say it, she wanted you to leave, but she missed you so much, was this what she missed? wasn't it your caresses, your immense love? Again she didn't remember, she only had this part of you.

"NO, ENOUGH" she screamed at the top of her lungs, her throat hurt, it rasped every time she spoke, it hurt so much that it burned, she didn't know when she last drank water, or if she really deserved it, doing it when her family couldn't. Stroking her hair, you made her hands relax over her own grip, you always brought out her calmer side, you had always had that power.

"Tell me, Wanda, why do you think you deserve to be happy?" again, again that question, that question, that every day went around her head like a roller coaster, it was fast and constant, it was scary, she wanted to throw up all the time, she had nothing but a knot in her stomach "because, the way I see it, you've hurt a lot of people" she shook her head frantically, she whispered little 'no' with her trembling lips, but she was too coward to ask for you to stop.

"I never wanted that, I just wanted to be happy" she murmured between sobs, she had no more energy, she didn't want to live anymore, not in this reality called a nightmare, or in this nightmare called reality.

"What will you do this time to get what you want?" She looked at you, with her tired eyes, you were dressed differently, like on the day you had your first date, it had been so long ago it seemed like decades. She touched the fibers of your sweater, she tried to remember how it really felt, but all she had were words on his tongue waiting to come out "Will you take the whole world as your game board this time? pause lives and modify everyone to your liking?"

She couldn't answer, she could only feel the fabric in her hand, your hand on her cheek, it was all she felt, all she wanted to feel, but then you were gone, again, you were no longer there, it was cold again, it was empty again.

She walked towards her kitchen with faint steps, turned on the coffee machine and waited, as she always did, locked in her thoughts, glancing at your pictures together, the ones she still kept, the reasons why she wasn't able to forget your face, she wished your children were there too, that they had been with you always, every Christmas, every New Year, every day and second, that they would have brightened her life like you once did, but again it was just her mind, that woke up when she saw the coffee was ready, she poured it in a cup and took a sip, then threw it hard against the wall, her feet burned from the drops that reached them, but she was happy that she finally felt something, something that was real.

"How far would you go for me?" you asked, as you gathered the pieces of porcelain on the floor, you didn't wait for an answer, you already knew the answer, she knew it too.

"We're not alive here, Wanda, you're not either.... but maybe, maybe somewhere, in another place, in another galaxy, in another time, maybe we are alive" your voice sounded cheerful, your dark face now had color, your cold breath was now warm, everything around you felt real, it was real when you stood up, when you smiled at her, when you softened her heart with your warmth.

That's when you made her see the reality, when you guided her, as you had always done, it only took a few words "Why don't you look for us? If we're there, somewhere, I'm sure we're waiting for you" then you had them in your arms, Billy, Tommy, both on either side of you.

As a tear rolled down her cheek, when everything went dark, when they left again, when everything repeated itself for the thousandth time, she smiled, she was going to get them, no matter what, no matter who. Red light started pouring out of her hands, electricity, power, strength, with a single movement she turned everything into rubble, she was going to get you back, she was going to get them back, nothing else mattered anymore.

As she transformed her surroundings into what she needed for her quest, she remembered the day she met you, how warm you were, how amazing you made her feel, you let her know that nothing was her fault, that you would support her in her decisions and wherever she goes, she could finally remember your face, all your details that she had kissed so many times, that she missed with every part of her being, she no longer felt empty, she felt full, full of your memories, of your sweetness, of your love, of every time you were her home, of every time you let her know how much you loved her without needing to say it with words. As her red suit stretched across her body, so did your warmth, the warmth of her children, their voices echoed in her head, you were asking for help, you were trapped, you were always trapped in her mind, she had to let them go, she had to know them again, she had to see them again.

All her suit meant was pain, it was the pain of loss, the pain of love, because what she felt was love, love of the purest kind she could find, she was a mother, she was a wife, she was someone who loved and who was loved, the bright red that spread through her arms, all around, was nothing more than a weapon, that she controlled, that would lead her to reunite with her desired reality, with her dreams and hopes.

Despair? It was what she once was, what she once felt, what she saw every time you died in her arms, or when you died in her mind. Wanda found peace in the scarlet witch, she found peace in knowing that she would return to her normal life, that the despair and sadness had only been an obstacle in her way to happiness, that she would build it herself, everything you had said, the times you had left, everything was for her, you always looked for the best, even in your death, even when your corpse was the only thing left of you.

When the book appeared in front of her, when in her mind there were only whispers, when she no longer thought of you or the children, the witch she had inside her, the witch she was, took control, the next thing that would happen would be the construction of a bridge, towards her most desired scenario, she no longer had to feel, she only had to act, to reach you from another way than lies, and she would do it, God knows she would, no one was going to stop her.

Once in her fortress, Wanda felt hope again, she saw the writings of the dark hole on the walls, she saw her figure carved in rock and finally she saw you, you were back, this time she was looking at you, not like all the other times, she was no longer afraid of what you were going to say, this was what you wanted, you had told her countless times in countless ways, you wanted to come back, she was going to give you that.

"You're here" she smiled so wide that even she couldn't believe it herself, she couldn't believe that soon she would be with you again, that this time it would be real, no more lies, no more pain, she would take care of you like you always took care of her. Her heart overflowed with warmth when you smiled at her as you walked towards her and touched her hair, just like when you were alive.

"Here I am, you've always kept me with you" you lowered your hands to run them down her arms, you caressed her red suit, she could feel your touch, getting closer and closer, getting more and more real "You've always been strong, honey, just a little more and our family will be together again."

Just as she raised her hand to touch your cheek, strange sounds distracted her, they were going to try to stop her again, even though all this time she had been trying to be nice, had tried to express that she only wanted her family back, even so, everyone still saw her as the villain.

When America opened the portal, she saw her children, her most loved little people, who she had done all this for but she was rejected when she tried to approach, she was the scared one now.

Why was nothing going according to plan? She is Wanda Maximoff, her mother, your wife, why now the only thing in Billy and Tommy's eyes is fear?

As she fell to her knees, as she had done so many times before, she felt the pain spread throughout her body, she felt her limbs go numb, her throat close up, how breathing was difficult again, everything she saw was real, but it wasn't real to her, it wasn't hers. When on her cold skin she felt a warm touch, she opened her eyes with regret and saw you, in front of her again, you were real, you were alive, you were breathing and holding her again, you were keeping her from breaking, like you had always done, without even trying.

"What happened to you?" She could feel the warm in your voice, but she also knew you were scared, you were scared because all what she had done, both in your current reality and hers, was torment you, it had never caused you anything but pain, it had even caused you death.

"I lost you...I lost everyone." she whispered in a trembling voice, her teeth and lips twitching as if an earthquake was occurring in her body. She leaned into your touch, watched as you crouched down to her same height, as if you held the same position of power, as if she wasn't a monster and you were a victim.

"Wanda..." and there it was, her name in your lips again, it felt just like the last time, when she was holding your hand, asking you to love her forever, even if you weren't with her, this time you placed your forehead against hers, your contact was getting closer and closer, as if you weren't seeing everything she did, as if you were ignoring it, as if you were only seeing her, Wanda "You have to let us go, honey" she didn't want to believe you, she didn't want to listen to you, but as she always knew, you were always right, maybe it had all been for nothing, maybe all she was doing was causing pain, more and more pain, maybe it was the only thing she knew how to do.

When the portal closed, when all that was in her head were your words and those of her other self, she could do nothing but end it all.

Then, alone again, the last thing she expected was to see you again, sitting across from her, accompanying her on what she hoped would be their last journey together. You were there, you had always been there, you were always going to be there, and there was nothing she loved more than that, there was no one she loved more than you.

#wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda maximoff x gn!reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda x you #marvel x reader #wanda imagine

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