#and she wanted to enjoy their food. slightly jealous | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zayneslady · 4 months

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Summary: they seem to prefer their hunter friend more than you and you're tired and hurt about it

Warnings: angst, open ending(?. The reader is not MC, if that makes sense.

Characters: Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel x reader (separately)

a/n: feeling angsty tonight. Hope you enjoy my first post!

Classification: scenarios

Rafayel

"Haaah." What a big sigh. "I miss my bodyguard..."

Was that something you could say in front of your girlfriend? You flushed to the tip of your ears. Shame ran through your body with a chill that made your skin crawl. You left the fork on the plate, and the sound made Rafayel turn around to look at you. His eyes soon saw the color on your face and he gasped, suddenly realizing the mistake he had just made, but it was too late. You both knew it.

"No," he said almost breathlessly. "That was not what I-

You rose from your seat before he could continue.

"I think... you want someone else around you at the moment," you said calmly, finally daring to look at him through blurry sight. "M-Maybe, we can have another date... some other time. Now, excuse me, Rafayel."

"No, wait! Come back!"

You rushed out of the restaurant, feeling curious eyes on you, making your skin become even redder. You felt so humiliated. It was not the first time something like this had happened, one could only take so much. You were not the jealous type, on the contrary, knowing Rafayel's personality, you tried to be relaxed around him, but, perhaps... he wanted to forget his bodyguard using you?

That was so lame and pathetic!

A sob made you tremble and you lowered your head, trying to avoid anyone seeing you as you walked as fast as you could to the bus station.

"Wait!" He called your name, running to catch up with you. To your misfortune, the bus was not there yet and you both arrived at the station at the same time. "Listen to me, please," he said breathlessly and you shook your head.

"I don't want to," you mumbled, trying to hide your tears, but it was impossible. "Rafayel, why did you come here? I left you so you could call your bodyguard."

"Please don't say that, I really didn't-

"You did!" You finally looked at him, your lower lip trembling. "Rafayel, I understand... I truly understand, but if you have feelings for her... why are you even with me? You're hurting me, you know?"

He flushed as he grabbed your shoulders. "I do not have feelings for her! I... I really don't have feelings for her. I want you. I have feelings for you, can't you see?"

You shook your head, choking on a sob. "I can't. I can't see it when you say such things in front of me, Rafayel." Oh, how much you loved saying his name. It felt so nice against your tongue. It made your heart tingle lovingly... how stupid.

"No, listen! I don't - I didn't... I don't know why I said that, I swear. I just... I am so sorry, please."

"I'm sorry too, Rafayel. You know this is not the first time... Every time we see each other, you say something related to her. 'What do you think my miss bodyguard is doing right now? She must be really busy doing that job of hers', 'Whoa, my bodyguard really likes these candies! I'm gonna get her some, wait here', 'I'm gonna order this food, it's my bodyguard's favorite!'... Rafayel, I'm not made of wood, you know?"

He was speechless. Pupils trembling slightly. He hadn't even realized all that. That only made you feel more hurt. Did he ever take your feelings into consideration?

"I am sorry," he mumbled, helplessly.

"I am too...," you repeated, listening to the bus approaching. "I gotta go now, Rafayel. I hope... You can sort out your feelings and tell her how you feel. Now, excuse me."

"No, please! I really want to be with you, I-

"See you, Rafayel."

Zayne

"M-Miss Hunter? Bit-

"Yes," he said, checking his phone one more time before giving you some money, your cheeks flushing. "I forgot I had a date with her. You don't mind if I leave, right? Take this, you can pay for our food with this."

"... I-

"I promised her," he said, as if begging for you to let go of him... but you never really had any right to make him stay.

"You promised me too. You said you took your day off for me... was it a lie?"

"No. It wasn't a lie, but right now I-

You nodded. Also getting up. "Zayne... Zayne are you sure you wanted to have a relationship with me?"

He frowned, his expression just slightly surprised. "Of course I am sure. Why are you asking me th-

"Or did you just want a replacement for someone you cannot have?" His eyes widened, but you continued. "I also have feelings, Zayne. I am not asking you to put me above all but... you can't even respect our time together? If you want to go out with miss Hunter, go ahead, I don't mind. But don't make plans with me and cancel them when we're in the middle of it. You could also pay me a bit more of attention instead of texting her all the time don't you think?"

Zayne blinked, reaching out for you, but you stepped back. "Listen, this is not what you think. I do want to be with you, it's just-

"I think... It's better if we leave things here, Zayne. My heart can only take so much. You're free to go."

"Are we....breaking up?"

You nod, forcing the tears back. "I think it's for the best, Zayne to end up here. Thank you for your time, I'm sorry I was taking a bit too much of it. I was just greedy. You don't get your crush to fall in love with you too often... I think I was wrong in that as well."

Tears rolled down your cheeks, no matter how hard you tried to stop them. "You can take your money back. You don't have to pay me for my time. Lunch's on me."

He said your name, almost desperately. "Wait, please. Let me explain this. Please."

"Goodbye, Zayne."

"No, please. Let's talk. I really-

"She's waiting for you. Don't make her wait much more."

Xavier

Wow. You had never seen him smiling like that. His eyes were lit up like beautiful stars on a summer night. His lips curled upward, showing beautiful perfect teeth. He really looked attractive. It would be great if he was looking at you too.

"W-What's so funny, Xav?" You asked sheepishly, smiling shyly at him.

"Hmm?" He raised his eyes from his phone and met yours, his smile erasing completely as he put his phone down. "Oh," he said, disappointedly, your ears heated up. "Nothing. I was just texting with my partner."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Y-Your partner?"

"Yes," he said firmly, his voice making you feel tiny. "She's the hunter I work with. I've talked about her before."

"Yes..." Plenty.

"Mhmm," he sighed. Laying down against the picnic blanket under him. "She asked me if I wanted to go eat with her. I had to tell her no because I'm with you... Hey, how long do you think- are you crying?"

You were. Tears streaming down your face nonstop. Xavier sat up, gently grabbing your shoulder, but you softly moved away as you covered your eyes from him.

"H-Hey, what's wrong? Where are you going?"

You sniffed, looking down at him as you grabbed your bag. "Xavier... I'm sorry. I did not know you would like to go out with your partner more than me."

His eyes widened as he also got up. "No. No, you got it all wrong. I-

"Please. Please stop making excuses. No matter what I do and how hard I try, I'm never enough for you, Xavier."

"..."

"You don't smile like that when you're with me. In any case you look bored and annoyed," you gasped, trying to calm your voice between sobs. "I tried not to mind it... I thought that was your expression, but when you talk about her. Your eyes look so beautiful. So lively and warm. And your smile is so bright and sincere and... happy."

"Please, listen to me..."

"I think I'm the one that makes you unhappy."

He shook your head, but didn't do much more than that and you thought you really had enough.

"I won't make you suffer anymore, Xavier. You were never mine completely, but that little part I desperately hold on to, I let it free. You're free to be with her," you smiled softly. "Thank you... for being with me for as long as you did."

"Don't go, please. I want to be with you."

Your lower lip trembled as you nodded a little. "It would've been nice if you didn't make me feel the other way around, Xavier."

"W-Wait, please!"

"Goodbye, then."

#love & deepspace #love and deepspace #Zayne #Rafayel #Xavier #Zayne x Reader #Rafayel x reader #Xavier x reader #love and deepspace scenarios #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #*mine #*scenarios

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wildemaven · 2 months

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strangers : climax | dave york

pairing: dave york x fireader word count: 6307 content warning: 18+ blog; established relationship, workaholic Dave, Soft Dave, miscommunication, implied/ alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn't know this), Dave's phone deserves its own warning, mention of food and alcohol consumption, a moment in a dressing room where reader inspects her reflection/self image judgments, smut (oral f receiving, fingering, semi public sex, kissing after oral, public affection, some praise if you squint), angst and sad feels, somewhat jealous Dave in a kind of joking manner, lots of tears, reader is mentioned wearing a dress and jeans- but zero description features, no age given but it's implied she's at least over 30, no y/n, established relationship, this is au- no Carol or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: it's finally here!!! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out into the world. I was working through lots of writing blocks, kids, travel, and sickness. But it's finally here!!!! This one is a doozy in so many ways but I'm so excited for it!! I'm so grateful for everyone who takes the time to read, share, comment and like each chapter of this series. I'm sad it's almost over!!

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It’s almost sadistic. Taunting every single fiber of your being as each chord of the melody, so perfectly orchestrated, looms over the hotel bar.

Your body betrays you. So easily giving in to the song's familiarity as each word reverberates through your chest. Flashes of Dave dressed in black, spinning you in front of your closest family and friends drowned out the urge to ask for the song to be skipped.

The liveliness of the crowd pouring into the dimly lit space helps block out the music. Your fingers swirl around the condensation slowly settling around your drink that sits untouched on the mahogany bar top. Your mind sifting through the day's events leading up to this moment, where you’re sitting alone, annoyance raging in your veins, in a dress you're starting to regret buying.

Lunch was relaxed and pleasant. The oceanfront views of the small cafe were something straight out of a movie. The weather was warm enough to enjoy the patio dining, a subtle breeze cutting through periodically. The ocean swells breaking masked the bustle of beach goers and passing cars. It was everything you had wanted to experience in this beautiful city.

Dave had been fully present since the intimate moment you both shared back at the hotel. More than he had been the entire trip thus far. Keeping you close to him, his hands never leaving you once stepping out of the room. As if to silently say I’m all here with you and I love you.

You relished in the closeness of him. Internally screaming with increasing avidity at his electrifying advances all afternoon.

Pulling your chair closer to where he sat so his free hand could nestle between your thighs. Too focused on twirling the pasta around your fork between discussing the most current events Dave had read in the morning paper while waiting for you to return from your walk.

Growing and falling Stocks. Government scandals that could trickle down and affect parts of his job. National affairs of all levels that jumped out to him. All things you hadn’t really kept up with until meeting Dave, were now things you looked forward to listening to him talk about and giving your input with your own perspective.

It's when Dave starts discussing something about sports or sports related that throws you off balance. Not necessarily so much in what he’s saying, but in what he’s doing when he’s saying it.

“So if they draft him this year, he’ll be a starting rookie…” Dave says as he shifts forward in his chair to adjust his position, hand slightly shifting where it still rests between your legs, his pinky sliding up the crotch seam of your denim with an ample amount of pressure.

“I’ve got money on him this season…” Your mind is too cloudy to even focus on what he’s saying.

An instant jolt of arousal splinters across your body, you use your napkin to hopefully muffle the moan you nearly choke on. Oh! It’s deliberate, Dave’s expression collected and unphased as he carries on, continuing to drag his digit up and down the thick layer of fabric.

“You okay, Honey?” He smirks, applying a little more weight behind his touch, before directing his attention to the server passing by the table and signaling for the check.

“Mmhmm— y-yeah! I’m fine. Great!” Your voice pitches at an unusual tone, frantically nodding in response as you wring the napkin between your fingers trying to not succumb to the pleasure currently building in your core.

It’s a tragic feeling when his hand abandons the heat of your thighs. His focus now is on inspecting the bill, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and tucking the proper amount of cash into the server’s book.

“That’s good.” He says all blasé as he looks at you with deadpan expression, situating his wallet in place again.

“Oh my god— Dave! You are the worst!” You toss your napkin at him, shaking your head as you laugh at his flirtatious behavior.

A proper casualness flows between the two of you following lunch— a familiar domesticity that had become so foreign to you. It now almost seems too far-fetched to think things have been strained in the last few months leading up to today and this seemingly perfect afternoon with Dave.

A stitch of guilt begins to weave through your mind as you take in Dave’s unreserved laughter and the way he looks so, extremely happy. Maybe you were premature in believing that there was anything wrong to begin with.

There’s a liveliness to Dave that has felt so rare to witness as of recently. No signs of stress. No closed off demeanor. No inkling of any distress that threatens to disrupt a marriage you so desperately desire to keep intact.

He’s remarkably your Dave— through and through.

The sun becomes far more dominating as the day passes. It’s fiery intensity has you squinting as you step out of the cute little ice cream shop you dragged Dave into after lunch.

Thankfully you’re more than prepared. A pair of dark sunglasses now perched on the bridge of your nose and the light fabric tank you opted for thanks to Dave’s attentive nature for planning, always checking the weather forecast incessantly as he sips from his morning coffee.

It’s no surprise at the influx of tourists that crowd the sidewalk as you both amble about. Your arm wrapped around Dave, his free hand gently resting at the nape of your neck, both of you working against the heat to keep your ice cream from dripping down the cone.

There’s a silence that hangs around the enjoyment of the summer treat, but it’s not uncomfortable. People watching and window shopping paired with brief moments of sweet banter have seemed to reignite the flame that had slowly begun to dwindle.

“Woah!” A swarm of teenagers rocketing by on skateboards out of nowhere has you stunned, several of them nearly knocking into you.

“What the fuck!” Dave’s quick like reflexes immediately turn on and he’s pulling you into his chest as the last few of the trailing skateboarders roll by. “Get off the sidewalk before you hurt someone, you punks!”

“Yeah yeah! Fuck off old man!” The last of the bunch, a typical backwards hat wearing unphased teen, yells over his shoulder raising his middle finger as he skates off into the distance.

“You okay?” Dave asks, giving you a quick once over.

“I’m fine. They didn’t hit me— just startled me more than anything.” You assure him.

“Still— those little assholes almost sideswiped you. And that little fucker calling me an old man?” Dave grumbles, following your lead to continue walking despite wanting to track down the group and give them a piece of his mind.

“Easy, they’re just having fun. If I remember correctly, you too were once a little asshole. There’s a laundry list of stories your mom has shared with me to back that up too.” He scoffs at your comment, knowing exactly which stories his mom has divulged to you about his wild adolescent years.

Your favorite being when a senior year prank almost resulted in suspension and losing scholarships. Dave and a few of his high school friends had decided to toilet paper and egg the principal’s home one night. The group of teens had thought they pulled it off until they came to school and their pictures were plastered in every classroom— security cameras were not taken into account while planning such a prank. Dave’s parents caught wind of the incident and the missing rolls of TP from their home and forced Dave to turn himself in. Dave confessed as a lone prankster, adamant that he didn’t know who the other students were in the images, resulting in tutoring lower grade classmates the remainder of the semester and a few weekends of community service.

“I’m not an old man.” He murmurs against your temple, pressing his lips to your warm skin. His hand settles into your back pocket directing his attention to his almost finished ice cream.

“Didn’t say you were.” Grinning at his annoyance. “Your mom earlier— How is she? Everything okay?”

“She’s good. Everything’s good. Just checking in. Making sure we’re settling in okay here— you know how she is.” It feels like he’s saying a lot without saying much of anything.

“Yeah— definitely sounds like her. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve talked to her. We should invite them over for dinner when we get back. Proper catch up— share about our trip with them in person.” You look at him, his head nodding along at the suggestion.

You’ve always had a close relationship with his mother, Carol. Weekly trips to the farmers market and coffee dates became a regular thing after you and Dave married. Family dinners took place once a month, rotating between each other’s houses or restaurants. Carol never wanted to be one of those overbearing mother in laws, always making sure that you and Dave didn’t feel suffocated by her and Dave’s dad’s presence.

“Okay. I’ll umm— I’ll call her when we get back. See what her and dad’s calendar looks like. I’m sure they’ll jump at the chance to get together, since our busy schedules haven’t seemed to line up in the last few months.”

“Perfect.”

There’s a beat of silence that follows making plans with his parents. Like there was more he wanted to say but left it unsaid. You don’t push for more and let any needling thought dissolve.

“How was it?” Dave points to the remaining milky soup that’s settled into the top of your semi soggy cone.

“It was delicious.” You tell him, then lapping at a few random drips racing down your wrist with your tongue, savoring the last of its salty sweetness.

“Let me have a taste of it.” He says, pulling you both out of the main flow of people walking behind you.

“What? You don’t even like this flavor, Mr. Vanilla is the only flavor that truly matters.” You playfully mock his go-to choice of a single scoop of plain vanilla, not even a punch of vanilla bean or a sprinkling of chocolate chunks— he’s a simple man.

“Maybe my taste buds have evolved?” He counters, pulling you flush against him under the shade of a store awning. “Give me a taste.”

Everything around you fades to the background, it’s just the two of you. Dave’s lips molding to yours. His tongue gently skims over your lower lip, silently seeking entrance.

It’s unhurried and thorough. A stark contrast from the chilly sensation that still lingers from the frozen dessert and the heat emanating from the way Dave’s tongue languidly traces over every bit of surface he can reach. Dizzying your senses, your mind fully immersed in the way he still tastes of sweet vanilla as he explores every detail of your mouth. Lapping at the remnants of the melted salted caramel that coats your tongue.

It’s vulnerable and thrilling— feeling so right and fully present together.

Your ice cream cone falls from your hand, crashing hard on the cement walkway, giving you the freedom to wrap your hands around his neck and relax even more into the kiss as Dave guides you through it. His hand squeezes your ass through your denim pocket, securing you against him. His other hand cradles your face as he swallows the small moans you produce when he nips tenderly at your bottom lip.

“Dave—“ Is the only coherent word you can think of when he finally breaks the kiss. Your fingers tighten around his short hair as you float back to the ground.

“I like the way it tastes on you. Might be my new favorite flavor.” He smiles, releasing small puffs of his breath over your lips.

It was the first shop that caught your attention, the front display had you stopping in your tracks. Your initial interest to merely window shop, a signal to Dave that you were interested in the possibility of checking out more of their inventory.

“Sweetheart? You doing okay in there?” Dave asks cautiously, as if to not scare off any potential decisions you might be deliberating over from behind the velvet curtain of the dressing room.

It’s nothing new, a song and dance you’ve been through before— turning and inspecting from head to toe. Your mind in an epic battle with the reflection framed in front of you, dreading anytime you step foot in anything that resembles a fitting room.

Except this time you’re not tearing apart every little thing about what you’re seeing, finding all the negative reasons as to why this particular dress isn’t working.

It’s the complete opposite, because you love the dress and you can see yourself wearing it on many occasions without a doubt.

An ambered hue that reminds you of autumn when the leaves turn, and Dave spending hours in the yard gathering pile after pile while you bake a seasonal pie, watching him from the kitchen window.

The tiered tulle fabric plucks a peculiar scene from your memory. Its flowy and dramatic silhouette is reminiscent of the dress you had worn to last year’s CIA Gala. Dave kept you close for the entirety of the evening. Your arm wrapped around his as he talked with colleagues, some new whose names you wouldn’t remember and others who had slowly worked their way into a more permanent place in your lives with regular dinner parties and monumental celebrations. Dave’s hand planted on the small of your back, his thumb drawing soft shapes where your dress strategically exposed your back, you were his grounding force among a sea of highly regarded men and their significant others.

“Hey- is everything okay?” Dave’s head now visible as he pulls the curtain back just enough to check in with you, his hushed tone barely audible over the upbeat music that the trendy boutique has playing through the store.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You say flatly as you continue to inspect your reflection, the hang tag with the bold asking price of the dress held between your restless fingers.

“Wow— Sweetheart, you look… Wow!” Speechless. Dave stands stunned behind you, taking in every bit of you, completely captivated.

“Yeah? It feels like a lot. I have a dress back at the room I can wear instead…” You say, watching the arduous battle he’s sorting through in his mind, his smitten smirk doing wonders to help settle your dress turmoil.

“No— No this, this is perfect. I love it so much. You definitely should get this one.” Dave says persuasively, a beat of sensualism exuding from where he now stands with his chest flush to your back, his hands attempting to bypass the layers of fabric in search of somewhere to efficiently affix himself to you. “Reminds me of that dress you wore to the Gala last year. You looked stunning. So much so I couldn’t keep my hands off of you the entire night. Pulled you into that closet and fucked you while the awards ceremony carried on.”

“Hmm, I remember.” You smile, your stomach flipping at the way he so vividly remembers that evening too. “But the price is a little much though. Like too much.” Dropping the price tag, allowing it to hang freely from the dress instead of mocking your sticker shop distress.

“Don’t worry about the price— it’s fine.” You gasp when he connects with your skin, a shiver zipping up your spine, his lips fervent and assertive as they work up the expanse of your neck.

Dave’s hand catches your head as it tips to the side, allowing him more ample space to roam. Your skin in his teeth triggers a soft whimper in your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as you get lost in the sensation of him.

It’s a blur of calculated movements on his part, your body receptive to his smooth control, moving along with ease until your back settles against the wall of the dressing room. The carpeted floor envelops the sound of him falling to his knees. Dave’s eyes glazed over as he stares up at you, their usual golden hue dappled with gleaming eagerness. His hands fumble with the hem of the dress skirt briefly, delighted when he finally manages to breach the abundant layers of fabric. The brush of his fingers on your skin as his hands skim up your legs is all the forewarning you’re given before he’s pulling down and removing the lace panties that you’ve been soaking through all afternoon because of him.

“Dave— what are you doing?” A breathless question, one you don’t really need a response to as he looks up to you one more time, his pointer finger resting on his mouth then lifting your leg over one of his shoulders.

He takes in the sight of your glistening wetness, his mouth watering at how you’re dripping for him. The urge to taste you is strong and he gives into it fully.

From above all you can see is bunched fabric and brown tousled locks when he connects to you, his angular nose pressed into the patch of hair that covers your mound, that first tentative kiss to your sex delicate and heady. The soft pressure of his flat tongue has your eyes rolling back when he starts to lick up and down, savoring the deliciously sweet taste of your arousal. Desire forging through your body with a deep buzzing intensity.

“Oh fuck! If we get caught— Ah!Shit. Dave— Baby, that feels amazing—” You purr in what you hope is a hushed tone, tilting your pelvis just so, a dire need for a climactic release.

Dave’s tongue moves in slow circles, teasing and flicking at your clit. His ministrations causing a slow tingle to build in your lower abdomen, steadily increasing in strength as he goes.

“Ma’am, how’s everything going in there?” The store attendant asks, completely unaware of the lewdness taking place on the other side of the current.

“Mmhmmm! Great! The dress is p-perfect!!” Your voice shoots up an octave when Dave inserts two fingers into your fluttering pussy in one quick thrust, moving them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your aching clit.

“That’s so great to hear. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to holler.” She says before you hear the clicking of her boots retreating.

You are squirming and quietly moaning, your knees nearly buckling as the fiery pleasure gains momentum, completely lost in the blissful sensation.

“You hear that, Baby. She said don’t hesitate to holler. Doing so good for me— I can never get enough of you!” His fingers hitting that delicious little spot that makes your toes curl, over and over again.

“Dave— don’t stop!” And he doesn’t.

He senses the tension building in your body, your walls seizing up around his deft fingers, intensifying his movements, his tongue lapping at every inch of your folds as your arousal runs down his hand.

“Baby, I'm coming.” You say right before your jaw goes slack, a silent whine only noticeable to you and Dave fills the small space. Your vision dusted in white, a euphoric sensory cloud of light bursting behind your eyes.

Dave catches you when it becomes too much to stand, whimpering at the loss of his fingers seated so firmly inside you.

Your skin is dewy. Glowing under the small dressing room light. The beads of sweat running down the length of your neck, sliding down the slopes of your breast, migrating somewhere below the fabric of the dress.

Dave catches a few salty drops, his tongue trailing over your clavicle makes you aware that he has removed himself from the underside of the skirt.

You taste the brininess and the sweet tang of your arousal when he licks into your mouth. Zero time to catch your breath, his tongue tangling effortlessly with yours.

“Hmmm— I take back what I said earlier. I love the way you taste— only flavor for me!” He says smirking against your tingling lips.

“You are such a menace. But I love you for it.” You pull him in for one last chaste kiss.

“I love you so much, Sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead, then bends to pick up your discarded panties, stuffing them in his front pocket.

“Seems like it would be wrong to not buy the dress after that little move you pulled.” Giggling as you begin the process of undoing the back zipper.

“Knew that would help sway your decision.” He says with an impish grin and wink.

Your reservation has come and gone. 30 minutes to be exact. Misery and frustration fill your veins as you stir the tiny straw in the watered-down concoction. The cocktail-soaked cherry, normally your inaugural sprinkling of how well the drink was mixed, now lays overlooked and forgotten at the bottom of the glass.

The bartender, who checks in with you like clockwork every 10 minutes or so to see if you needed a refill albeit your obvious lack of consumption from the original drink he made, has shown zero annoyance over the fact that you have taken up space in not one, but two chairs at his bustling bar. Your small clutch placed in front of the empty seat reserved for your husband who was supposed to meet you here an hour ago.

Dave and you had made your way back to the hotel after purchasing the dress, giving yourselves plenty of time to get ready for the evening Dave had planned out.

It was hard to keep your hands off each other. a magnetic effervescence had you contemplating whether to call off the reservation all together despite Dave’s ecstatic adamancy to make it to the reservation on time. Both of you managed to work against the intense pull, only sharing shy glances and brushing of limbs standing side by side in front of the bathroom mirror while getting ready.

Dave didn’t shy away from flattering you as he helped zip you in, causing you to fight against tears that threatened to ruin the dramatic makeup that paired perfectly with your dress.

I love you. You are so beautiful. How did I get so lucky? I can’t wait to get you out of this dress later.

Dave’s hand molds to yours, a corner of his mouth lifted as you eagerly drag him from your hotel room. Taking advantage of the privacy the small offshoot hallway provides from the main corridor of the floor, he draws you back to him and without hesitation he kisses you with a fiery tenderness.

“Alright. We need to go.” He says, breathless and not all that convincing.

“Do we though? We could just swipe the key, make our way back inside, order room service— you can get me out of this dress. See what I may or may not be wearing underneath.” You murmur against his smile, your tongue sensually gliding over the underside of his upper lip causing him to release a heavy sigh, as if he really wants to do exactly just that.

“You drive a hard bargain, Sweetheart. And as enticing as all of that sounds— amuse me and go along with what I have planned. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back here and I can slowly undress you.” He counters, leaving you little room to dispute his well thought out plan for the evening.

“Alright, Mr. York. We'll play by your rules.” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Dinner. Then straight back here—“

A soft buzzing cuts you off. Dave’s body tenses against yours, releasing you from his hold to retrieve his phone from his black slacks.

“I need to take this— it’s work.” His demeanor completely shifting from his usual sweet carefree self to closed off and mysterious.

“Okay. Call them later then. They can leave you a message.” You reach for his hand to continue to make your way down to the restaurant. He pulls away, promptly taking a few steps back, his focus still on the number flashing on his phone screen.

You’re not sure what hurts more. The fact that Dave is putting work first once again or how he so quickly recoiled when you reached for him.

“I can’t. I need to take it.” He says, finally looking at you with pleading eyes, and you hate how much you so willingly give into his need to brush off the plans he was only moments ago so eager to get to.

“Dave— Fine.” Releasing a heavy sigh into the narrow hallway, tightening your grip on the small purse that holds your phone, lip gloss and key card, doing your best to mask the resentment and defeat simmering just below the surface.

“I’ll be quick. Go grab us a seat at the bar and I’ll meet you there when I’m finished.” He doesn’t give you an opportunity to get another word in, turning to let himself back into the room.

The bottom of your dress floats in the air, kicking out with each step you take, making your way to the main hall of the floor in the direction of the elevator. Further from Dave. Closer to being alone yet again. Suppressing your swirling emotions for the time being.

Dave’s hushed voice echoes down the walls. Never actually making back into the room before answering the call. Out in the open. Zero care that his wife is still within earshot.

“Hey, Ashley… Yeah, she just left. I told her to just wait for me at the bar.”

You stop dead in your tracks. The swish of your dress is now still at your feet, hanging in its normal wearing state. Your blood runs cold as your brain rapidly tries to digest what you just heard.

Your heart clings to how easily Dave had been so present and affectionate since this morning. That sinking feeling of your suspicions being revealed. I knew this whole day was too good to be true.

Everything feels like it’s narrowing. The hallway. Your vision. Your airway. Smaller and smaller.

Something compels you to keep moving. Further from Dave. Closer to being alone at the bar, away from this man who you no longer find recognizable at this moment.

“Excuse me. Can I get a Scotch, neat, side of water please?” Dave’s whereabouts are no longer unknown to you, leaning an elbow onto the bar as he orders himself a drink, his other hand resting on the back of the chair that has kept you comfortable while you wait.

“Sorry, that took longer than expected.” Dave apologizes, sealing it with a kiss to your cheek.

You hum a lackluster response. Gnawing at your bottom lip as you focus on the dilapidated napkin you’ve been rolling and unraveling, folding and unfolding for the umpteenth time.

“You okay?” Dave asks, his hand moves to rest on your back but now it’s your turn to recoil from his touch, leaning forward before he’s able to make contact.

“Yeah— I’m great.” You say flatly, only briefly looking at him to deliver your annoyed smile, then back to the crinkled napkin that’s now serving as an absorbent to pooling condensation.

“Here you are sir.” The bartender interrupts, placing the single malt and ice water on the bar, Dave nods his thanks.

You don’t have it in you to pry or question his tardiness. So you continue to sit in silence, watching Dave out of your peripheral properly dilute his drink so it’s suitable for sipping.

“You’re not wearing your ring?” He points out to your bare ring finger then takes a light sip of the diluted scotch.

The fingers of your left hand pause, fanning out so you can inspect the observation yourself. The usually adorned finger is stripped, lacking your wedding band and engagement ring.

“Oh— I must have forgotten to put it back on after we went to the pool…” You hadn’t realized how naked it felt all day, the fingers of your right hand soothing over the indent skin, recalling when you had tossed the jewelry haphazardly into your bag yesterday.

“You don’t think these strangers will get the wrong idea?” You sense an attempt at humor in his voice, only he has failed to read the room. His government skills not sensing you have zero interest in Dave’s untimely decision to be a humorist. “A beautiful woman, alone at a bar, without her wedding rings— Don’t want—“

“Excuse me— can you put my drink on his tab? He’ll be taking care of it, along with your generous tip.” You alert the passing bartender. You swivel your barstool just enough to reach around Dave’s solid form to grab your purse, then swivel in the opposite direction to stand. You tuck your purse under your arm, before delivering the irritation that has finally begun to boil over. “I think the only stranger confused about our marriage is you, Dave.”

“Wait— Where are you going?” His hand gently clasped around your upper arm, halting your departure.

You glance down at where his hand holds you, his thumb actively moving in soft circles over your skin, trying his best to distract and diffuse the air between you. Unfortunately, too little too late.

“I’ve been sitting here waiting for you, Dave— for a fucking hour. I’m going back to the room.” You pull your arm from his grip and leave without another word.

Dave somehow manages to catch the same elevator, but you don’t bother acknowledging his presence as he stands on the opposite side of the small metal cabin. The other riding passengers don’t suspect you two even know each other or the emanant rift that is unfolding between you, just two lone hotel guests sharing a lift to their designated floor.

2 stops allow for the other guests to get on to their respective floors, leaving only you and Dave left to continue the ride to the final stop.

The striking silence is met with electric chords spilling from the small speakers in the elevator. The familiar tune feels like an old friend you’ve been reacquainted with after months apart. Those first few lines wrap around you, embracing you fully— I’ve missed you so. The chorus drawing your gaze to where your husband stands slouched against the mirrored wall, looking equally as somber as you feel, his eyes already drawn to you in the same manner.

A smile tugs at your lips, a fleeting moment of remembrance to that night so many years ago. That night where Dave was more than just a stranger in a bar. He was your future. Your home. Dave without a doubt was the best thing to happen to you.

The memory of meeting Dave is interrupted by a soft ding and the doors slowly unveiling your intended destination.

You stalk towards the room with a graceful backbone, a beautiful facade to how you truly feel inside, keeping yourself together with each poised stride. Dave takes his position two steps behind, vigilantly in tune with your body language.

There’s a sense of relief that overcomes you the second the door closes and the lock clicks. No longer needing to keep a composed demeanor to prying eyes. No longer allowing the hurt to fester and torment your heart in a stealthily manner.

They flow furiously once they start. Tears streaming down your face. Silent sobs cracking in your throat.

You move about busily, grabbing and tossing, too lost in your own blurry thoughts to even notice Dave standing there watching you.

“What are you doing?” Dave asks, perplexed by the way you’re flinging item after item into your suitcase that lays open on the bed.

“You’re a smart man, Dave. I’m sure you can figure that out.” Grabbing a drawer’s entire contents and dropping it messily into your bag.

“I get that you’re packing. Why are you packing is my concern.” He takes a timid step closer towards the streamline process of you moving about.

“I’m going home. I’ll catch a ride to the airport. Book a new flight when I get there. I can have Jacey pick me up when I land.” A plan you had thoroughly developed before Dave had arrived at the bar.

“Wait— you’re going home? Why? What’s going on?” He steps directly into your path, hindering your progress.

“I don’t know anymore, Dave. I thought this was what we needed. Some time away together. Away from work. Away from our normal lives. Just us reconnecting. But it seems like this whole thing was just wasted effort.” You try to wipe the tears, but they just continue to fall.

“Baby, you’re not making any sense right now.” He knows he should allow you space, but the urge to pull you into him is stronger.

“It’s been months. Months of you working long hours. Months of missed dinners and late nights at the office. Months of being alone at night wondering if you’re okay and when you’ll be home. Months of worrying that something is happening between us and trying to figure out how to fix it.” Each convulsive gasp for air you struggle for fans across Dave’s neck. His arms tightening around you, every word slicing through his chest.

“Fuck—“ He murmurs, his cheek pressed into the side of your head, your tearful confession not anything he expected to hear tonight.

“If you didn’t want to c-come with me— I would have u-understood.” Your shoulders jostle in Dave’s arms, your own arms hanging at your side, still holding a few loose garments in your fists.

“What? No! Baby, I wanted to come. I want to be here— with you.” Dave pulls back, enough so you can see the sureness in his eyes.

“What about her? Wouldn’t you rather be here with— h-her?” Your voice cracks at the thought of Dave with someone who isn’t you.

“Her? What are you talking about?”

“Ashley— She’s the important phone calls you’ve been taking. The work that can’t wait. She’s why you’ve been so distant with me for months.” It feels like glass the minute it leaves your mouth, shattering across your tongue, nearly choking on the tiny little shards.

“Honey, you think I’m having an affair?” A nod is all your weary state can give. An affair— it’s the only thing that makes sense to you right now.

“I heard you talking to her several times since we got here, Dave. The last time being when you told me you had to take an important call and you would meet me at the bar before our dinner reservation.”

You’re not sure what you expect him to do now that he’s been caught. Confess to his actions. Tell you everything from the beginning. Get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. It was a mistake, it will never happen again.

What you don’t expect is to see a single tear fall down his handsome face. To see a look of rich tenderness in his eyes. Warmth in his touch as he wipes away the wet worriment painted over your face.

“Baby— Fuck, I’m so sorry. To say that this trip so far has been stressful would be an understatement. Nothing I had planned for this trip has gone right— even after months and months of preparation. And you’re right, they weren’t work phone calls— not all of them at least. I’m so sorry for making you feel like I didn’t want to be here— I do. I want to tell you everything, but I think it’s best if I show you first.”

“Show me what?” You ask him.

“Come with me so you can see for yourself. And if you still want to go home afterwards, we’ll leave tonight.” Dave’s head tilts, his eyes searching yours hoping to relieve any reservations you still might be internally feeling.

“I look like a blubbering mess right now.” You use what you now realize are a pair of socks to wipe any streaks of makeup smeared on your face.

“No you don’t. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says, his lips molding over yours are a sobering reflection of his love for you.

Not much else is said on the trek back down to the lobby, allowing Dave to take you to wherever this mysterious place is.

There’s a nervousness about him, his jitters, while subtle, are loud and obvious. Holding his sweaty palm against yours. His other hand actively fidgeting in his pocket. Head tilt back, then forward, stretching his neck from side to side.

You lean into his shoulder, tucking your free hand under his arm, hoping to ground him a bit. It helps, you feel him relax instantly into your touch. His lips pressing to the side of your head, Thank you.

“Dave, where are we going?” You ask as you walk in an unfamiliar area of the hotel.

“Almost there.” He says, his fingers squeezing in small bursts against your hand.

It’s a long hallway covered in an elaborate wallpaper with rich details of floral patterns and bold hues. It's dimly lit due to the fact that there’s zero windows, the only light is given by the mid century style sconce fixtures lining the walls. Potted plants strategically placed around sculptures and empty velvet chairs.

You’re met with two large wooden doors as you approach the end of the hall, but it’s the woman standing in front of them that has your attention. She’s beautiful, actually she’s stunning. Her smile is so warm and inviting, beaming at you as you and Dave walk closer to where she stands. It’s as if she’s been expecting you, waiting diligently for your arrival.

“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. York. My name is Ashley.”

#Dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #wildemaven writes

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cupidysm · 6 months

Text

Vegan Pizza

Just a fic I wrote to practice my fluff writing! edit: I’m so happy so many people enjoyed it!

Steven Grant x gn!shy!reader || masterlist ||

summary: (I gotta practice fluff writing) As Steven makes his way back to his flat after being stood up, he runs into his neighbor who helps him find comfort in a warm meal.

content: fluff, making out, awkwardness (but like in an endearing way? I hope)

word count: 1,218

Steven Grant naturally thought bad luck was simply drawn to him. However, the day he landed a date with his co-worker, Dylan, he thought his luck has finally turned around.

Until she didn’t show up.

Steven was a good neighbor. Always greeting you with a smile or a quick “Good morning.” No matter how late he was for work. Now that you were thinking about it, he was kind of cute.

Alright fine, you were enamored.

His big brown eyes, his tooth aching smile, and it didn’t matter how loose fitting his clothes were you could see the traces of muscle through his wide necked shirts. But looks didn’t matter anyways. It was simply being himself that drew you in.

You found yourself returning home later than usual from a busy day at work, and just as you’re about to enter the door to your flat you hear the steps of someone heading up the stairs.

“Bloody chocolates.” Steven mumbled as he slumped up the steps to his floor.

You didn’t mean to be eavesdropping, but earlier that week you had heard him bragging to another neighbor about a date he landed. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say you were the slightest bit jealous, but Steven had a love life too and it wasn’t like he’d wait forever for you to get over your worries and ask him out.

You turned to Steven with a smile. “Hey Steven! How was your date?”

Steven doesn’t recall ever mentioning it to you, but then again he doesn’t remember much now days between his life and his dreams.

“Oh, hi. Yeah…it didn’t go well. She stood me up.” He mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Your heart twinged with excitement, but was quickly replaced with sympathy at his downcast expression. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Steven.”

“All I wanted was a bloody dinner with someone to spend time with.” He sighs. “Not get stood up.”

The words slip from your mouth before you can even go over them in your head.

“Wellifyou’restillhungrymaybeyou’dwanttocomeoverandhavesomethingtoeat…” you realize how fast you’re speaking and are able to slow your brain down. “I’m making a pizza..? It’s vegan.”

The first time Steven had mentioned he was vegan you immediately bought a vegan pizza, that way when you did have the excuse to ask him on a date you’d be prepared. Apparently now was that time.

His face lights up slightly at the mention of a meal. “That sounds great! Yeah…I’d like that.” He smiles.

He follows you into your flat and sits down while you take out the frozen pizza.

“I’m surprised you actually had something vegan. Most people think vegan food tastes strange.”

You laughed. “Not me.”

That was a lie. You made one a while back and weren’t entirely fond of it, but if this ended well you’d be happy to eat as many vegan pizzas if it meant you’d get to have more times like this one.

“I remember you mentioned you being vegan a while back so I thought I’d buy it.” You immediately winced at your words. You don’t know how long back he had mentioned this, but you think it was pretty far back. He was definitely gonna think you were weird for remembering something as minuscule as that.

“Yeah, that’s right, I… I am. You remember that?” He asked clearly shocked.

Shit. He did think you were weird.

“Thanks, I… no one really takes the time to listen… or care.”

You’re lucky your turned away from him as you load the pizza in the oven so he won’t see your blush.

“It’s no biggie.” You smile.

The rest of the night you chat between each other. Steven’s once dismal night took a flip from simply spending time with someone as lovely as you. When the pizza is ready, the both of you eat your pizza happily.

“This is good. I still can’t believe you remembered I was vegan.” He smiles.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” Your face is definitely visibly red.

“It’s big to me. No one really remembers something like that about me.” He chuckles as he looks up at you with his big eyes.

You could’ve kissed him right there with the way he was looking at you. His mouth full of pizza making his cheeks puff out in such an adorable way.

“Bloody hell. must sound desperate, don’t I?” He looks off embarrassed. This time he’s the one blushing.

“No, no ‘course not.” You smile with a giggle.

He flushed again slightly before speaking out.

“You’re… you’re very pretty.” His voice trails off as he looks down at his plate embarrassed.

Your jaw practically falls off. “What?”

“You are very pretty.” His eyes glance up at you before staring locked on your eyes. “Really… beautiful.” His voice trails off.

“Did I say that out loud?” He picks his head up in a panic, his face turning beet red.

You stand up quickly. “I, uh… bathroom-“ You sprint in the direction of your bathroom before shutting the door.

You lean yourself against the wall, your beating so fast you think it might fly out of your chest. You eventually realize you just left him alone and put yourself in an even more awkward situation, so you decide to open the door.

You jump back in surprise and see Steven standing there awkwardly.

“I… er,” he fiddles with his hands. “Did I say something wrong? I- I mean you really are beautiful, and oh bollocks, I ruined it didn’t I.” He stammers out quickly.

You quickly cover his mouth with your hands in order to shut him up.

“Steven, stop it. Stop that.”

His eyes widened when you covered his mouth, a bit shocked.

“What— did I say something wrong?” He asked, his voice muffled.

“No- no of course not.” You squeeze your eyes shut to overwhelmed.

“God, if you keep saying stuff like that I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing you and I like you way too much for me to ruin it.”

He was utterly gobsmacked, his eyes wide as you spoke.

Finally, he managed to respond.

“Are—”

He lifts your hands from his mouth.

“Are you saying you… want to kiss me right now?”

You quickly cover your face.

"And it's such terrible timing too! I- I mean your date just stood you up!" You stammer out.

"I don't care if you kiss me right now. I— uh, I wouldn’t mind…" He said, almost breathless. "This— we, I…"

He couldn't find words— so instead he showed it.

His lips pressed against yours softly, just enough so I’d you were uncomfortable you had the space to pull away, but there was no way you were going to now.

A soft whimper left his lips as you pressed yourself further into him. He slid his hands around your waist, until he eventually pulled back to let the two of you breath.

“That was good.” Is all he manages. “That was very good.”

You can’t help but giggle and eventually he can’t either. He laughs alongside you, arms still entangled in eachother.

“…Could I take you on a date. A real one. No getting stood up?” His eyes sparkling with hope.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

#steven grant #moon knight #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #mr knight #fanfic #shy reader

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wosohermoso · 9 months

Text

Lucy Bronze

Jealousy - 18+

Warnings: smut (fingering), fluff, angst

Reader gets jealous when a waitress tries to hit on Lucy. (Do i make a pt.2 where Lucy gets jealous?)

Myself and Lucy hadn’t been dating long, our relationship still a secret from most people besides our close friends and family. We hadn’t actually planned on telling anyone so soon considering it had only been a few months, but with being around Lucy’s friendship circle and teammates, word of us being together kind of just - spread - although we were in no means trying to hide it.

We had been on holiday in Spain with a few of Lucy’s teammates for just over a few days now, all just enjoying the few days we had together after the World Cup, but me and her had decided to go for dinner away from the others just to spend some quality time together.

As we sit at the table waiting to be served, Lucy reaches over from opposite me, intertwining our fingers in a subtle but romantic way.

“You look gorgeous” She smiles, her thumb delicately brushing over my fingers.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” I giggle, her eyes burning into mine as she lets out a small chuckle.

“Y’know y-” Lucy begins to speak before she’s cut off by the waitress.

“Are you ready to order?” She smiles at me, and i peer down at the menu. My Spanish isn’t the best, so I order in English, letting her know what food I wanted. The waitress jots down my order with a small smile before turning to Lucy.

“-and for the pretty lady?” She says, watching Lucy carefully as her hand subconsciously leaves mine to pick up the menu. I giggle, Lucy is a pretty lady, there is no denying that. I don’t mind when others compliment her, especially knowing that shes mine. She deserves to know that she’s beautiful.

“What would you recommend?” Lucy asks as she looks back up at the waitress.

The waitress grins, placing her hand on the table besides my girlfriend as she leans over at the menu. She tucks a stray hair behind her ear before speaking.

“For you? I mean you cant go wrong with pasta. We have this-” she points “this tastes amazing, and its cooked specially by the head chef”

Lucy nods, “I’ll take your word for it”

The waitress takes note of our order before leaving and Lucy’s attention falls back on me.

“We’ve only got a few days left here and I want to make the most out of it, I was thinking tomorrow we could go to the beach- without the others obviously, I wanna spend as much time with y-”

“Wine- for you, hermosa” Lucy is cut off abruptly by the waitress placing one glass of white wine down on the table in front of Lucy. “Did you want a drink?” She then asks me.

My eyes narrow slightly, but still I keep my composure. Neither of us had ordered our drinks yet but she had come over with a glass for only my girlfriend. “Uh- yeah could I get a wine too please?” I ask with a small smile.

“One wine, is that all?” She asks and I nod.

After a short while our food arrives, “Pasta, for you-” she says, placing Lucys dish in front of her, “alllmost as beautiful as you” She says, earning a slightly awkward chuckle from Lucy. “And a pepperoni pizza for you” She states, placing my naff pizza in front of me. “Enjoy” She says, her hand resting briefly on Lucys shoulder before she leaves.

“What is her issue?” I blurt out earning a small look from Lucy.

“The waitress?” She asks, raising her brow slightly.

“Yeah. I don’t know. She’s acting strange.” I say as a shake my head a little.

Lucy shrugs, “no idea but this pasta looks incredible”

I roll my eyes. I was hardly ever the jealous type, but when tall, pretty, blonde waitress with a figure to die for very obviously has a thing for my girlfriend, its hard to not feel slightly annoyed. And when I look up to see her sat by the kitchen blatantly trying to catch Lucys eye, it only angers me even more.

“Shes staring at you” I state.

“Who?” Lucy frowns a little glancing round at the waitress.

“Don’t turn around, what the fuck?” I grab her hand, diverting her attention back to me.

Lucy looks at me with a small smirk.

“She probably just knows who I am” She chuckles. God her ego is so high, but i love it.

We finish our food in a comfortable silence, a few conversations about life together springing up between mouthfuls. Once we’re done, Lucy places my empty plate on top of hers and scoots them to the edge of the table and after a short while, the waitress returns.

“I see you’re helping me out” She grins at Lucy, motioning towards the plates that she had neatly stacked up to be taken. Lucy smiles at her “I try” she shrugs.

“Would you help me out in finding your instagram?” The waitress very confidently asks. Lucy looks up at her, her mouth open ever so slightly.

“Mine?” She asks in disbelief. The waitress nods.

“I- I mean yeah? Lucy replies, taking the waitresses phone. I watch her search for her own instagram before handing it back. I don’t think it meant anything, Lucy was just a people pleaser, but there’s a time and a place and that most definitely was not the right place - or time.

I sit back in my chair, my arms crossed as the waitress thanks Lucy. I had never been one to not stand my ground and so fighting the urge to say something was a fight I most definitely had lost.

“Do you wanna ask her to shag while you’re at it too?” I say under my breath, my eyes burning into the Blonde.

“Y/n?!” Lucy frowns at me in confusion. The waitress hadn’t heard it but Lucy definitely did. My eyes avert to Lucy with a cold glare, why on earth had she just given her her instagram right in front of my face. The waitress then thanks Lucy, giving her another small rub on the shoulder before leaving.

We were in the car in a not so comfortable silence. I must admit we were only in silence because I was in the worst mood known to man.

“You gonna speak or…?” Lucy strains out, her right hand rested on the steering wheel while her left placed comfortably on her thigh.

I stay silent.

“Y’know, jealousy looks quite nice on you” She states, earning a cold glare.

“What do you mean?” I frown, looking at her in complete disbelief.

“Jealousy. It looks good on you.” She states again before giving me a quick glance.

“If you think im jealous you can think again Lucy” I roll my eyes, shuffling slightly in my seat.

“Mkay” Lucy simply replies.

Once we arrive back at the villa we were renting, I take my shoes off, heading straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, Lucy following shortly behind. I feel her presence behind me as I lean over the sink.

“Whats wrong?” She asks softly, placing a small peck on my shoulder. I say nothing.

“Are you still jealous about that gir-”

“Lucy I told you, I’m not jealous.” I state before turning around. Lucy places her hands either side of me, resting comfortably on the counter behind me. She scans my face with a small smirk.

“I’ll take your word for it” She shrugs.

“Like you took her insta” I roll my eyes, earning a small chuckle.

“No. She took mine..”

“Luce?! You need to stop being so cocky about it because honestly it’s not a good look. We were on a date.. and she was all over you like a weeping back boil” I frown, attempting to cross my arm with my water still in my hand.

“So you are jealous” She grins at me, delicately taking my water from my hands and placing it behind me. “Why are you jealous?” She says lowly, her lips feathering against my neck. She cannot serious right now. The stubbornness in me heightened.

“Im not.” I state. Before giving her shoulders a small pat and worming out of the embrace she had me in.

I make my way to our bedroom and sit in defeat on the bed. I was kinda hoping she’d follow and maybe give me a cuddle, make me aware that there was absolutely nothing to worry about, but Lucy was so carefree. She probably didn’t mean anything by the whole interaction with the waitress, I just found it slightly disrespectful, but I knew I was being silly.

It takes Lucy a good half hour before she joins me, giving me a small light tipped smile as she slouches onto the bed besides me above the covers, before leaning over and giving me a quick peck on the lips. She could tell I still wasn’t in the best of moods, but I was slowly starting to get over the uncomfortable date we had had. That was until I saw her scroll through her insta notifications and hover over the new follow she had gotten. It was the waitress. Dont click on it. She clicked on it. She gave the waitresses insta a small skim over before swiping off. I was glad she didn’t follow back, but still I was annoyed. Not at Lucy, just the blonde.

I reach over, taking Lucys phone and locking it before placing it on the bedside table and very abruptly repositioning myself so that I was straddling my girlfriend. Lucy looks up at me in disbelief before opening her mouth to speak, “What are you doi-”

“Shut up.” I cut her off before smashing my lips onto hers.

It doesn’t take her long to widen her mouth, letting my tongue brush against hers, her hands instantly trailing along my thighs before resting on my ass. My tongue roamed her mouth as I took out almost all of my frustration out on her lips while the frustration in other places only grows. Lucy’s breath hitches as my lips trail down her neck, sucking harshly at the sensitive spot just below her ear as my hand creeps up under her shirt to squeeze at her breast. “Jesus christ, y/n” She groans out, her fingertips roaming my thighs and ass as I continue to make out with her neck, sucking and licking every one of her sweet spots. Her hands graze up my back, creeping their way under my shirt where her nails dig into my skin ever so seductively before coming back down to rest on my waist. Our lips meet again, more passionately than before, earning another small groan.

I felt her shuffle underneath me, her knees bending as she raises her hips slightly to try and get just a little bit of friction where she needed it most.

I reposition my legs so that I’m in between hers, before training my kisses down once more. Placing seductive but soft kisses back down her neck to her collarbone as I pull up her top, revealing her braless breasts. I try my hardest not to moan out at the sight of her as I dip my head down to suck delicately on her right nipple, my left hand working its magic on the other. Lucy’s nipples were always sensitive, and I knew that with just a small touch she’d be a complete and utter moaning mess. Her breath begins to shake as I caress her breasts, my tongue flicking against her nipple before my mouth moves on to the other. I feel her hand leave my hip and drag up my back before her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling at the roots sensually. Her hips buck slightly and I knew exactly where she needed me most.

My hands glide down her body as my lips find their way back to hers, my hand very swiftly slipping into her panties. She was wet. So wet. Just how I liked her.

I start to rub slow circles against her clit as her breath shakes and her eyes tighten shut. Her hands finding her way under the waistband of my shorts where they grip onto my ass tightly.

“Get your hands off me” I say, Lucy’s eyes widening in confusion. I smirk down at her. “Hands. Off”

She removes her hands from my shorts, holding them up by her head in defeat as my fingers pick up pace, earning the most leg clenching moan from my girlfriend. “What has gotten into you?!” She breathes out, before moaning against my lips. I pull my head away slightly.

“Jealousy.” I state, before my fingers plunge inside her.

Her back arches in pleasure, and at that moment she had no care for what I had to say, and to be honest, neither did I. I watch her squirm underneath me as my fingers curl inside her, hitting the spot she needed it most. “God, y/n” she moans out.

My fingers leave her as I kneel between her legs, pulling her shorts down her thighs and off her legs in a quick and swift motion. I gaze down at her slightly swollen clit, and oh how I wished my tongue against it right now.

She watches me in frustration as I tease her pussy. My fingers delicately grazing over her hole. “Y/n please..” She groans out as I stare at her.

I was hardly ever dominant with Lucy. But today was different. Today all I wanted to do was claim her as my own, make her know that shes mine and only mine.

My fingers slowly slip back inside her, moving slowly but harshly against her gspot. Soft moans escape her lips as I work my magic.

My other hand caressing her nipples, pinching, squeezing and rolling them in all the right ways as she squirms underneath me before it trails down between the valley of her breasts, down her stomach, and find their way to her clit. And with that I do everything I can to send her completely over the edge. “Y/n” She moans out, louder than before, the tension between my own legs only growing. “Let me touch you” She whimpers, her hands entering my shorts yet again.

“No” I say, as I slow down the pace of my fingers, briefly taking my fingers out of her to remove her hands from me. Lucy lets a small huff of defeat out as my fingers re enter her.

I curl my fingers inside her feeling her tighten around me, her back arching in pleasure. She was close, so close, but I could tell she was holding back. She wanted to touch me so bad, she’s a people pleaser - like I said. But she should have thought about that when she gave the flirty waitress her instagram earlier.

Her eyes tighten as I feel her clench around me and I quicken the pase of my fingers against her clit. Her body almost rolls over as she comes undone, moaning out my name in pleasure as she cums around my fingers, dripping down a little to my knuckles. She pants aggressively, small moans still escaping her lips as she comes down from her high and my fingers leave her body.

“Y/n, let me-” She quivers as her hands try to roam my body yet again.

“No, you’re not done yet” I cut her off, grabbing her wrists to lift her up, “get in the shower” I state, getting up off of the bed and dragging her with me.

I hear her let out a short giggle as she holds on to my hand and follows me into the bathroom, before spinning me round and pushing me up against the sink.

“Told you jealousy looks good on you” She grins down at me. I frown slightly.

“Knees. Now” I state, guiding her down by her shoulders.

She was in for it tonight.

#lucy bronze #woso one shot #woso smut #lionesses #reader x lucy bronze #lucia bronze #leah williamson #smut #woso x reader

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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

a safe haven | two

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter l next chapter

summary: While helping set up the barn for the summer party, a friend tells you that Tommy wants to set her up with Joel and feelings of jealousy come into play; you ask your niece Dina for a huge favor; you share a memorable moment with Joel and Ellie on the dance floor.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. commune throws party, Esther makes an appearance, reader gets jealous, mentions of reader’s husband, husband name reveal, hints at their strained marriage, Dina and Ellie interaction, Joel dances, cute moments between Ellie, Joel, and reader. mention of food, consumption of alcohol.

word count: 6.6k

You glance around the barn, both hands planted firmly on your hips.

It’s late in the afternoon, around three or four if you had to guess since you’d accidentally left your watch in your satchel bag back at the stables.

After spending the morning making your usual rounds and tending to all of the horses that needed some attention, you’d offered to pitch in and help prepare for the night’s upcoming festivities. In one corner of the barn, Seth’s setting up the small bar where he and his sons would be bartending and serving up beverages. Over in another corner, Tommy Miller is helping set up the large, flat top grill and his wife, Maria, stands right beside him, keeping everything organized as she directs several members of the commune and assigns them with a number of tasks that still need to be taken care of before the social event could begin. The food had also started to arrive—quite a few people had kindly volunteered to bring in their homemade dishes to share, all sorts of delicious little pickings from a variety of savory sides to go with the bison steaks that Tommy would be grilling later on in the evening, to an array of sweet, baked desserts meant to be enjoyed afterwards. Maria graciously thanks everyone for their contributions, then points them over towards the long, rectangular shaped table that would serve as something of a buffet.

“Do you think we brought out enough chairs for tonight?” you ask, curiously cocking your head to the side slightly as you silently start to do another count of the mismatched chairs around all of the tables that surrounded the perimeter of the makeshift dance floor. The barn itself was incredibly spacious, and the group who’d been assigned the task of cleaning it up earlier that morning had completely cleared the inside, leaving more than plenty of room. Still, you try to be mindful about making sure the improvised venue isn’t too crowded with tables and chairs. “Or do you think we should bring out a few more?”

Esther scoffs in response. She had been sitting at one of the tables, digging through a woven basket filled to the brim with freshly picked wildflowers for the center pieces she had promised Maria that she’d make. She improvised with a different variety of glasses, plastic cups, and even old, empty food cans, using them as vases for her arrangements. In a tiny effort to spruce them up, Esther had tied a long string of twine into a bow around each one. “Listen, nobody is going to be sitting on their ass tonight, at least not for very long,” she remarks, brushing her long, golden blonde bangs out of her eyes with the back of her hand. She then gestures towards the stage where a couple of guys are bringing out instruments and setting them up. She shimmies her shoulders playfully. “Everyone is going to be way too busy dancing and shaking their tail feathers. Now quit worrying about chairs and help me with these damn things, will you?”

You giggle at her antics and lightly shake your head as you sit down in the wooden chair directly across from her plastic one. You grab an old, empty Campbell’s chicken noodle soup can and peel off the label, carefully checking the inside to make sure it’d been washed out thoroughly before grabbing a handful of flowers from the basket. Esther made a good point. The much anticipated and long awaited first day of summer had officially arrived in Jackson, and the entire town was buzzing with pure excitement over the gathering—an incredibly rare time to unwind and let loose, you knew everybody was more than ready to put on their best and dance the night away.

Sure, throwing a party while living in a world like this one seemed like nothing but a complete waste of time—not to mention, a complete waste of valuable and precious resources. But the good people of Jackson worked themselves down to the bone in efforts to keep the community going, to keep it growing and flourishing now that it was well over forty families strong. Taking just one night out of the year to have some carefree fun did a lot more good than it did harm. It provided a much needed sense of normalcy for everyone, but most importantly, for the children and members of the younger crowd who had been born after the outbreak. It was a small taste of what life used to be like before every single day became nothing but a fight for survival, before the worries of infection, clickers, and murderous raiders became god awful nightmares that had come to life. While Jackson was certainly a safe haven, it wasn’t completely immune to those very real threats, and that scared people. Seeing the way the summer party lifted spirits and boosted morale, Maria had made it an official annual tradition, something to look forward to when the tough got going. Anyone who thought it was a stupid idea was more than welcome to spend the entire night on wall duty instead.

“I wonder if he’s coming tonight.” Esther’s voice breaks into your train of thought after a minute or two.

You glance up at her, confused. “Who are you talking about?”

“Tommy’s older brother,” she replies, placing some daisies into a tall, slightly chipped glass. She bites her lip and says his name shyly. “Joel.”

Without thinking anything much of it, you nod and find yourself assuring her, “He said he would come.”

Esther’s hands fumble, clumsily knocking the glass over in surprise, her flowers spilling out. She manages to catch it just before it falls off the side of the table and grips it in her hand. “Wait a minute, you’ve met Joel?” She gasps lightly, her eyes going wide with curiosity. “You mean, you’ve actually talked to him? Are you fucking serious? When did that happen?” She sputters out each question, one after the other.

You bite back a grin as you recall your encounter with Joel Miller. Even now, a full day later, the feeling of his hand holding yours still lingers. His skin had been rough and calloused against your own, but you’d enjoyed the way it had felt. You shouldn’t have. But there’s no denying how much you had liked it, how much you wished for another chance to hold his hand in yours again.

Still waiting for answers, Esther nudges your leg with her foot under the table. “Well?”

You shrug your shoulders in the most calm, nonchalant manner that you can muster, as if the mere thought of the man isn’t making your insides flutter wildly. “Well, I actually just met him for the first time yesterday afternoon.” Seeing the genuinely stunned expression on Esther’s face, you begin to elaborate a little further as you start arranging a bouquet of flowers into the empty soup can in front of you. “Ellie, the girl he’s here with, well she spends a lot of time with me at the stables. Joel came looking for her after lunch hour and we got to talking for a bit. Before he left, I ended up inviting him and Ellie to come to the party.”

“Wait, what? Ellie spends a lot of time with you? Really?” Esther lets out a scoff of pure and utter disbelief. “I can hardly even believe it! That girl avoids everyone around here like we’re the damn infected. It’s really rude, don’t you think so?” She doesn’t even give you the chance to respond before adding, “She’s got quite the mouth on her from what I’ve heard, too. Cusses up a storm left and right, and she lacks the most basic manners. Poor Joel, I wonder how he ended up getting stuck with someone like her. Whoever her parents were, they clearly failed in disciplining her.”

Frowning, you glare at her across the table, not too fond over the remarks she’d just made about Ellie. “She’s actually a really good kid, Esther,” you all but snap at her, a seething edge to your tone. “You know something, I really wish people wouldn’t be so damn quick to judge before getting to know someone, especially when they have no idea about what they’ve been through. Maria has taught all of us better than that over the last few years.”

Your friend holds up her hands in defense. “Well in all fairness, it’s kind of hard to try and get to know someone who purposely chooses to keep to themselves all the time, you know. She isn’t even giving anyone the chance to get to know her. Except for you now, apparently.” She pauses for a moment, realizing she had just landed herself in a bit of hot water with you. She tries to deviate the conversation slightly into a less sensitive territory and asks, “Are they both coming tonight?”

“Joel said he’d be by with Ellie,” you confirm, still feeling a bit irate. You know Esther doesn’t really mean any harm, but her comments, and the way she’d said them, had definitely struck a nerve. “He might have his work cut out for him trying to talk her into coming with him, but I’m sure that he’ll manage to convince her somehow.”

“Well, at the very least, I sure hope that Joel sticks true to his word and comes out to join us,” she smirks, propping her elbows up on the table as she leans towards you and makes a confession that you’d really wished she hadn’t. “He’s certainly someone that I would like to get to know.”

You manage to keep a straight face, uttering a small, “Oh really?”

“Of course! He’s so damn handsome,” Esther gushes with a twinkle in her sky blue eyes. “Joel is exactly my type of man, you know. Tall. Rugged. Big, strong hands that I bet would feel incredible all over me,” she swoons back into her chair in a dramatic fashion at the thought of it. “And he has this mysteriousness about him that I really like too.” She stops, looking around to make sure nobody was within earshot before leaning over towards you once more. She lowers her voice just in case anyone happens to pass by the table. “Tommy stopped by my place after dinnertime yesterday. He told me he was thinking of setting Joel up with somebody and he asked me if I would be interested.”

Your heart sinks. “He did?”

It’s difficult to ignore the feeling of envy that’s prickling at your nerve endings. It’s incredibly stupid to feel this way, to feel disappointed, especially knowing that you didn’t have the slightest chance in hell with Joel Miller.

Esther’s a single woman up for grabs—and you’re not.

You’re married.

Still, the thought of Joel with Esther, it bothers you.

After talking to him in the horse stables the day before, you’d found yourself thinking about him a lot more than a married woman should probably be thinking about another man who wasn’t her husband. It was wrong, it was dangerous, and it wasn’t like you at all. But there was just something about him that had caught your attention, long before he’d even spoken a single word to you.

Now that you’d become acquainted with him, you were screwed.

So frustratingly and devastatingly screwed.

“You know what, I’m going to try and talk to him tonight,” Esther concludes, nodding her head as if she’d just convinced herself into doing it. “I might need a strong drink or two in me to give me a little bit of liquid courage, but I think I can do it. After all, Tommy thinks that Joel would really like me. He told me so last night.”

You lightly clear your throat and somehow manage to give her your best, encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll make a great first impression on him, Esther.”

“I think so too,” she agrees, giving the flower in her hand a gentle sniff. “By the way, I forgot to ask you—is Luke coming by tonight?”

The mere mention of your husband’s name makes you feel nauseous.

Averting your gaze, you shake your head. “No, he isn’t. He’s been so tired from work lately and he’s really not in the mood for it.” You hope she can’t detect the hint of relief in your voice as you explain that your husband wouldn’t be joining in on the night’s festivities. “He’s going to stay home and catch up on some rest.”

“What a shame,” Esther tsks with a frown. “That man works way too damn hard, you know. He needs a break. You should really try and get him to come to the party. He could use a night out.”

“I’ll try and talk him into it,” you lie straight through your teeth knowing damn well that you would do no such thing. The truth of the matter was, the less you were around Luke, the better. Him being at the party with you would only make it unenjoyable for you—if he came, you wouldn’t be able to be yourself, not unless you wanted to end the night with another explosive argument because you’d been too this or too that. Too chatty, too annoying, too embarrassing, too much.

Knowing Luke, he would expect you to be glued to his side all night long and play the role of his quiet, obedient little wife, and when that didn’t happen, it would cause all hell to break loose once you two were back in the privacy of your home. It was the one place where the image of the perfect, loving marriage that you and Luke had created over the last few years came crumbling down into pieces.

From your periphery, you catch a young girl with long, raven black hair walking by with a burlap sack of green apples in her arms. “Excuse me for a minute.” You stand up from the table and catch up to the teenager, calling out her name. “Dina!”

She stops in her tracks and turns around. As soon as she sees that it was you who’d called her name, she smiles warmly. “Hi there, auntie.”

You wrap an arm around her in a hug. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Dina shrugs, setting down the heavy sack at her feet as she smiles at you once again. Since you’d met her, she had always been a quiet kid, friendly but very shy. As she transitioned from childhood into adolescence, she had slowly but surely started coming out of her shell. “I’m excited for all the good food, that’s for sure. What about you?”

“I’m really looking forward to the live music,” you reply, nodding towards the stage where a young man is tuning up his bass guitar. You peer curiously at her for a moment, hesitating slightly before finally saying, “Listen, I’m glad that I caught you. I was wondering if you could do me a really big favor tonight?”

Eagerly, she nods. “Of course! Anything for you, auntie. What do you need?”

“You know that new girl, right? Ellie?”

Dina’s face falls instantly. “You mean the one who doesn’t talk to anybody?”

“Yeah. Her. I was thinking that maybe we should do something to change that,” you suggest to her. “I’d really appreciate it if you would try and talk to her tonight during the party. Maybe try and get to know her a bit.” You immediately notice the look of disdain that crosses her features. “I honestly think that you two would get along great. She reminds me a lot of you, you know. Minus all the cursing, of course,” you quickly add as an afterthought.

“You’ve talked to her?”

“She’s actually been hanging out with me these last couple of weeks.” You almost laugh at the shocked look on Dina’s face. “I wouldn’t ask you to befriend someone who I know you wouldn’t like. But I mean it, Dina. I really think you’d like Ellie. Something tells me that you two could wind up being good friends.”

“But she yelled at me on her first day here,” Dina recalls, anxiously biting her bottom lip as she shuffles from foot to foot.

“Okay, so maybe you two might have gotten off on the wrong foot,” you state, remembering that winter afternoon a few months ago when Dina had told you about how Ellie had barked at her for staring at her in the mess hall. “But that doesn’t mean that you two can’t start over, you know. Clean slate?” You grin and tuck a lock of her long hair behind her ear, grazing her cheek softly as you did so. “It would really mean a lot to me if you at least tried to talk to her. Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Dina thinks it over for a minute, then sighs in defeat. “Fine. I suppose I can give it a shot.”

You take her face in the palm of your hand, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Dina quickly pulls away from you and wrinkles her nose. “Auntie?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going home to shower before the party tonight, right?”

“Yeah, of course I am.” You furrow an eyebrow at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Because.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “You smell like a dirty horse.”

You chuckle, giving her another squeeze.

Oh, Ellie and Dina were going to get along just fine.

Joel stands in front of the bathroom mirror and frowns at his own reflection as he runs his thick fingers through his graying, dark brown curls for what had to be the thousandth time. Whether it was with his hands or with a comb, he couldn’t tame his locks to save his fucking life. He breathes out a long, irritated sigh and decides to give up on his hair altogether before walking back out into his bedroom in nothing but the dark blue bath towel wrapped around his waist. He pads over towards the foot of his bed where he’d set out his pile of clothes.

He quickly tugs on a pair of boxer briefs and his clean, dark wash blue jeans before reaching for one of the shirts Tommy had dropped off for him earlier that afternoon. His brother had given him a number of options to choose from and Joel had chosen the one he’d felt was the nicest—black with a gray paisley print and long sleeves. He shrugs into the shirt and buttons it up, rolling the sleeves up to the middle of his forearms. He glances over at his pistol on the black oak nightstand beside his bed. Though he’s fairly positive he wouldn’t be needing it, he picks it up and tucks it into the waistband of his jeans, purely out of habit.

After slipping on his cleanest pair of black leather boots, he leaves his bedroom and makes his way down the long hallway towards Ellie’s door. He gives it a light knock and calls, “Ellie, s’time. You all ready to go?”

It takes her a minute, but Ellie finally opens the door.

“Y’didn’t wanna dress up for tonight?” Joel questions, observing how she’s chosen to wear her usual long sleeved shirt, faded blue jeans, and tattered red low top sneakers.

She narrows her eyes at him and huffs, “Fucking really, Joel?”

He holds up his hands, shaking his head. “Right. That was a stupid question,” he realizes out loud. “Alright. C’mon, kiddo. Let’s get goin’ before it gets late.”

“Do we really have to go to this stupid thing?” Ellie whines with a small groan as she follows him down the stairs and out the front door. “It’s the end of the fucking world, man. Who in their right mind throws a fucking party? I mean, what are we even celebrating, anyway? The fact that we’re all fucked for the rest of our lives?”

“Y’know, a little change in attitude would be kinda nice,” Joel remarks as the two of them make their way across the commune, following another group of people who also appear to be heading towards the barn. “This could be real good for you, Ellie. Hell, it could be good for me too. It could end up bein’ a real good time for the both of us.” He doesn’t quite fully believe that, and the truth is, Joel really doesn’t want to go as much as Ellie doesn’t want to go. Still, he hopes that by exposing Ellie to people at the social event, she’ll have an easier time adjusting, and perhaps she could even finally find her niche. Or at least make a friend. Seeing you also happens to be a perk of going. “This could be fun.”

“Since when are you into parties, Joel?”

Joel shrugs his shoulders. “I ain’t into parties.”

“Oh, wait a minute. The only reason that you even want to go to this fucking thing in the first place is because you know who is going to be there. Isn’t that right, Romeo?” Ellie smirks and wiggles her eyebrows at him in a suggestive manner. Noticing the perplexed expression on his face, she scoffs, “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. I heard the way you were chatting her up at the stables yesterday.”

“First of all, she was the one who was chattin’ me up, thank you very much,” Joel mutters to her gruffly. “And second, what the hell were you doin’ hangin’ around and listenin’ to us? I thought I’d told you to go get lunch, not stick around and eavesdrop.”

“I didn’t wanna miss anything good,” Ellie replies, peering up at him. “You know that she’s married, don’t you?”

“Ellie,” he says her name warningly and looks around, hoping no one had been overhearing their conversation.

“Just making sure you knew that, Joel.”

“Yeah, I know she’s married,” he says, hoping that the teenager couldn’t pick up on the sour edge to his tone. He glances at Ellie, and wonders what all exactly she knew about you. Though he knows better than to ask her, he stupidly does so anyway. “You meet the guy yet?”

Ellie bites back another wide smirk, taking note of the way Joel had so easily let his curiosity get the better of him. “Nope. I’ve noticed that she doesn’t really talk about him much, either.” She shrugs, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “And from what I know, they don’t have any kids together.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t ask you if they had kids.”

“No, but I know you were wondering if they did,” Ellie states in a matter of fact tone. “Whether or not she’s happily married, I can find that out for you too, if you want me to. Just call me Sherlock fucking Holmes and I’ll crack the case.”

His mouth falls open slightly at what she’d been implying.

As if he would actually go after a married woman.

Joel finally speaks, his voice rigid. “Ellie, that ain’t funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny, believe it or not.” She notices the way his jaw clenches and shrugs her shoulders once again. “What?” she bats her eyes innocently, as if she had seen nothing wrong with the statement she had just made. “Oh come on, Joel. You can’t tell me you’re not the slightest bit curious about her marriage.”

“I ain’t,” he lies straight through his teeth. “It ain’t none of my business, and it sure as hell ain’t none of yours either, so don’t you go pokin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong, you understand me? Don’t need you goin’ around and causin’ trouble.”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh. Don’t get so worked up, man. Can’t be good for your blood pressure.”

“Little shit,” he mutters.

Joel and Ellie make it to their destination just after sunset and by that time, the party had started and was already in full swing. The commune’s barn had been completely transformed, cleaned up and cleared out—a dozen tables or so surrounded a decent sized dance floor and bright lights had been strung from the rafters as well as all along the outside of the structure, bringing the place to life. There’s a live band playing music on a small, makeshift stage and the scent of delicious barbecue wafts through the air, causing Ellie’s stomach to grumble.

Joel glances around, hoping it isn’t obvious to the kid as to who he’s looking for, but she’s far too busy processing everything to even notice.

“Whoa. This is so weird,” Ellie mumbles under her breath as she takes in her surroundings. Though she had seemed to be thoroughly confused by it all, he detects the glimmer of curious fascination in her wide brown eyes.

“Joel! Ellie!”

Grinning, you wave your hand as you weave your way through the crowd towards them.

Joel’s throat bobs and goes sandpaper dry at the sight of you. It feels like someone had just driven their fist into his gut and knocked all the wind out of his lungs.

The pale yellow frock you’re donning is strapless with a subtle sweetheart neckline, short with a flowing skirt that falls to the middle of your thighs. You’ve dressed it down, pairing it with tan brown cowboy boots that look like they’ve seen better days, and a cropped denim vest. Your hair is loose around your shoulders and there’s a delicate white daisy tucked behind your ear. Simple, but it’s enough to take his breath away. “Hey!” you greet them, excitedly. “You guys made it!”

“Whoa, nice dress, princess,” Ellie nudges you, offering a playful grin in return. She’d been so used to seeing you in your flannel and jeans at the stables—though she’s teasing, there’s a twinkle of admiration in her eyes as she looks at you. It’s a world of a difference to see you when you’re not dirty, sweaty, and wearing boots covered in horse shit.

You nudge her right back and then turn to Joel. “You look very nice,” you compliment, subtly admiring the way that his shirt fits the broad planes of his chest and his shoulders.

“He showered for once. Doesn’t he look pretty?” Ellie jeers, causing him to roughly smack her shoulder. She rubs the spot where he’d hit her, making a face at him. “Relax man, it was a fucking joke. Jesus.”

Ignoring her, Joel shifts his attention back to you. “You look real nice too.”

“Thank you, Joel.” There’s a hint of shyness in your smile.

He couldn’t be too sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn he’d just seen you give his form another once over.

“I’m really glad you two decided to join us.” Gesturing around with your hands, you ask, “What do you guys think?”

“It’s some shindig, that’s for sure,” Joel remarks, taking another glimpse around. He aches to take another look at you, let his eyes glaze over every last inch of you, but he knows better, especially with his loud mouth kid standing right there in the middle.

“It’s like I told you yesterday, Joel. People still know how to get down and party,” you wink at him and his heart skips a nervous beat. “Come with me, I’ll get you guys a couple of drinks.”

“Drinks?” Ellie’s face is hopeful. “What kind of drinks?”

“Nonalcoholic for you, missy.” You flick her shoulder, causing Joel to chuckle. “The drinking age in Jackson is eighteen, although some kids can have a drink or two at sixteen on special occasions as long as their parents are around to supervise them.”

“Well, I’m fifteen. That’s close enough to sixteen. And I’ve got my supervisor right here.” She jabs her thumb over her shoulder at Joel. “I can have a real drink tonight, right Joel?”

He snorted. “Not a fuckin’ chance in hell, kiddo.”

She scowls. “Fucking party pooper.”

You lead them over to one of several coolers that are strategically placed around the barn and pull out a bottle of fresh squeezed lemonade for Ellie and a bottle of beer for Joel. Twisting off the cap, he takes his first sip of the homemade brew and makes a face, coughing and sputtering at the taste. “Jesus Christ, that’s fuckin’ awful.”

“Sorry, I should have warned you that Seth is still trying to perfect his beer recipe,” you giggle into the palm of your hand. “His whiskey is a whole lot better, but it’s really strong. I wanted to start you off light.”

In the distance, you see Esther watching Joel with hungry eyes from across the barn. She’s turning heads in the skintight, cherry red dress she’s wearing underneath her denim jacket—the material hugs every single curve tightly, accentuating her perfect figure. She’s nursing a glass of something or other, probably still working up the courage to introduce herself to Joel. You’d hoped that by the time she was finally ready to make her move, you’d find it in yourself to accept it with grace.

Or be somewhat drunk enough not to care.

The band on stage finishes up their rendition of Life is a Highway and everyone in the barn breaks into whistling cheers and thunderous applause.

Impressed with their talent, even Ellie finds herself clapping her free hand against her thigh with genuine enthusiasm.

The band moves onto their next song and the familiar tune of one of your favorite songs, Dancing in The Moonlight, instantly takes your mind off of Esther and lifts your spirits.

“Oh, I love this song!” you exclaim. “Ellie, dance with me!”

“Wait, what in the fuck—” Ellie gasps as you grab her hand and started tugging her along behind you. She immediately glances at Joel for help. He simply chuckles as he plucks her lemonade from her hand and lets you drag her a few feet away to a spot on the dance floor.

Smiling, you spin her around a couple of times and then take both her hands in yours as you start leading her in the dance. It takes Ellie a minute or two, but she eventually stops resisting and gives in, moving along with you.

“Yeah, there you go!” you beam, encouraging her. “That’s it!”

“Oh, I’m so gonna fucking kill you for this!” Ellie threatens, however, her eyes are sparkling and she’s laughing. Her fingers squeeze yours. “Hey, this song’s pretty fucking cool! I like it!”

Taking a swig of his beer, Joel watches as you and Ellie dance together.

He feels a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as his eyes drink in the sight of his girl smiling brightly—she looks happy, so ridiculously happy, and he wishes there was a way for him to bottle up this memory just like a scent, one that never faded or grew stale. He would give just about anything to have it stashed away, available for him to open up whenever he wanted so he could relive the moment all over again, for as many times as he needed.

“Everybody here is out of sight, they don’t bark and they don’t bite,” you sing the lyrics to her as you twirl her around once more. “They keep things loose, they keep ‘em tight, everybody was dancing in the moonlight—”

“This is so fucking weird,” Ellie laughs again, mustering the courage to finally take a turn and spin you around. She grasps your hand tightly in hers and her opposite hand flies to your waist. She eventually finds the constant beat to the song and connects rhythmically with you, her moves falling in sync with yours, though she would still take a clumsy step here and there.

As the band moves into the next verse of the song, your gaze meets Joel’s from the dance floor and you lean forward, whispering something to Ellie.

She eagerly nods her head, shouting, “Fuck yeah! Do it!”

Ellie drops her hands away from you and you leave her alone on the dance floor for a moment. Rushing up to Joel, you take his bottle of beer and set it down on the table beside him before reaching for his hand.

The contented smile on his face vanishes. “Darlin’ what are you—?”

“Come on! Come and dance with us!” you chirp, dragging him over towards where Ellie’s waiting, an amused smirk plastered onto her face as soon as she sees the flabbergasted look on his.

“I—I don’t dance.” Joel quickly tries to tell you. He makes an attempt to stop you from pulling him any further, but you’re a lot fucking stronger than you look and he doesn’t stand a chance. “I can’t dance!”

“Don’t be silly!” You dismiss him over your shoulder, shaking your head. “Everybody can dance!”

“Come on, Joel!” Ellie shouts, taking his other hand in hers. “Let’s see you shake what you got!”

In his peripheral vision, Joel notices a few people gawking, watching in bewilderment as the two standoffish newcomers dance with you, the town’s resident sweetheart.

“Joel, relax,” you call out over the music, shaking his hand. “Don’t be so uptight! Loosen up a little!”

He tries his hardest to do just that. Though he’s too embarrassed to fully comply with your request, at some point, he does find himself moving a little less like the tinman.

The three of you sway to the upbeat music together in your own little corner of the dance floor.

Holding your hand in one of his and Ellie’s in the other, Joel finally decides to let go and allows himself to enjoy the moment, regardless of how terrible of a dancer he is. He moves with the two of you along to the music, a deep belly laugh escaping him as Ellie tries to spin him around—their significant height difference makes it impossible, and all she does is mess up his hair as her arm brushes right over his head.

You try spinning him too, but you’re not all that much taller than Ellie. Joel bends his knees slightly and ignores their protest long enough for you to give him a twirl.

When the song ends, the three of you move off of the dance floor and back over towards the table where their drinks are waiting for them.

“Gotta give you credit. You’ve got some moves, old man,” Ellie states, taking a sip of her lemonade. Beads of sweat drip down the side of her face and she wipes them away with the sleeve of her shirt. “Little on the stiff side, but not bad for being fifty six with creaking knees.”

You muffle your snort of laughter with your hand.

Joel glowers, but truth be told, he can’t even be mad at her for the jab. He’d finally caught a glimpse of Ellie being truly, genuinely happy, the way she deserves to be—and it was all thanks to you.

“Hello!”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smile as Dina comes up to the three of you. She seems nervous—you can tell by the way that she’s already pulling at her sunflower printed dress.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You kiss her cheek and then introduce her. “Joel, Ellie, this is my niece, Dina. Dina, this is Joel and Ellie.”

Ellie flushes a deep shade of red as she recognizes her from her first day in Jackson.

“What about her manners?” She remembered snapping when she’d noticed the dark haired girl hiding behind a wooden pillar in the mess hall, staring at Ellie as if she were some kind of freakshow.

“Ellie,” Joel mutters her name, jabbing his elbow into her shoulder. “Say hello.”

“Oh—um, hey,” she greets her awkwardly with a wave of her hand.

“Would you like to go grab something to eat with me?” Dina offers shyly as she gestures over towards the grill.

Ellie nervously glances up at Joel, as if she were silently asking him for guidance on what to do.

“Go on,” he encourages her. “Just stay out of trouble, alright?”

She hesitates, but then turns back to Dina and nods her head. “Okay.”

Reluctantly, she follows Dina over to the other side of the barn. The girls each grab a plate, get in line, and make their way up to Tommy, who not only seems pleasantly surprised to see Ellie, but to see her with someone other than his brother.

“Niece, huh?” Joel questions, taking another sip of his beer.

You’re not surprised.

Dina doesn’t look all that much like you, he’s probably thinking.

“Technically, she is. My husband is her uncle,” you explain, briefly. “After her parents passed away, he and his other niece, her older sister, Talia, they both raised Dina together. We were all living together under one roof until Maria decided Talia was old enough to be assigned a place of her own a couple of years ago.”

“Speakin’ of your husband.” Joel anxiously shoves his free hand into his pocket. He wasn’t sure how he’s only just now noticing the thin, gold wedding band around your ring finger. Seeing it causes an odd feeling to begin boiling in the pits of his stomach—the ring only confirms what he wished wasn’t true. “I haven’t had the chance to meet him yet. He, uh—he around here somewhere?”

“No, he isn’t. He decided to stay home tonight. Luke isn’t a big fan of these kind of things—besides, he’s always tired from working.”

Joel observes the way you uncomfortably shuffle from foot to foot and he wonders if maybe it’s because you’re missing him. The thought only makes the foreign feeling in his stomach intensify. “He’s the doctor around here, ain’t he?”

You nod. “He is.”

Before you have the chance to change the subject, you catch a glimpse of Esther making her way over towards you and Joel.

Your heart sinks deeply in your chest, similarly to the way it had earlier when she’d told you about Tommy wanting to set them up together. Again, you’re forced to remind yourself that you don’t have any right to feel this way.

She slinks up to the both of you—it’s clear she’s already tossed a number of drinks back and had quite the buzz going on. “Hi there,” she practically purrs at Joel. She glances at you, as if she’s waiting for you to introduce them to one another. Of course she would assume that you’d be her wingwoman. Hell, what reason would she have not to think that you would be willing to lend a hand and help set her up with him?

She’s not the one with a husband waiting at home.

“Joel, this is my friend, Esther,” you finally speak, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as shaky to either of them as it does to you. “Esther, this is Joel Miller. He’s Tommy’s older brother.”

“Nice to meet you.” Joel takes her hand, giving it a brief shake before quickly dropping it.

“Now, I know you didn’t give him Seth’s shitty ass beer to drink. We all know his whiskey is way, way better,” Esther comments, shaking her head as she offers him her best, flirty smile. “Come with me, cowboy. Let’s go and get you a real drink over at the bar.”

“Oh no, that’s alright. M’perfectly fine—” Before Joel can finish protesting, Esther takes his bottle, hands it over to you, and then grabs his hand, dragging him off towards the bar.

Frowning, he looks over his shoulder at you and you have no choice but to make an encouraging gesture with your hand as if to tell him to go and have a good time.

Once Joel and Esther are out of your sight, you lift the bottle to your lips, draining every last drop of his beer in one swallow. You pivot on the heel of your boot and start towards a group of friendly, familiar faces in hopes that some mindless chatter would be enough to get your mind off of things and tame the jealousy that’s clawing furiously at your insides.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x oc #joel miller hbo #joel miller imagine #fic: a safe haven #fic: ash

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Crossed Lines

Some things are better left unsaid.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??, injury, I'm sorry for this one don't hate me

Length: 3k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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You never really thought of Jungkook as the jealous type- and maybe you're interpreting his foul mood entirely wrong too.

But you've got a feeling that his clear displeasure is mostly due to the very tall and very charismatic Alien who's been all over you ever since you woke up.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't need help eating her food, Jin." Jungkook growls, eyes a vibrant green with a little red swirling around sometimes, as he watches you on the lap of the tall Alien currently feeding you. Jungkook's arms are crossed and he honestly looks ready to tear someone's throat out- and while you're still learning what the colors of his eyes might mean, you're starting to somewhat connect certain colors with certain feelings.

"Pah, just let me enjoy this before you take her away again!" The man named Seokjin whines, pulling you a little closer. "I can't believe you found such a sweet thing.. you don't even want her, just leave her here with me!" He complains, and Jungkook's eyes turn a little hotter in color, orange burning bright as his anger seems to rise. Why that might be you're not sure- you don't understand why he's not letting you stay here either. Seokjin seems like a nice person, and Yoongi, a cat-like Alien who'd taken care of you while you were resting, told you that the three of them are all very good friends. So why did Jungkook suddenly change his mind?

"Shut up." Jungkook barks under his breath, turning his face away. "…she can stay if she wants to. Who cares." He mumbles more or less, and at that, your heart skips a little uncomfortably. In a way, you knew he wanted to get rid of you sooner or later- but to hear it too, makes it all the more real. Maybe deep down, that small hidden innocence in you had thought he was warming up to you- but maybe that was just your imagination after all.

So you shrug, and look down at your plate of food, shaking your head when Jin offers you another piece to eat.

"I can't believe that you're worse than me, Jeon." Yoongi says, shaking his head in disappointment. "That was mean, even for my standards." He mentions from his spot near the only window in the small metal shed Jin lives in, his tail swaying a little. "Humans are sensitive. You can't just say things like that." He says, before he adjusts his position, crossing his legs.

Jungkook however just scoffs, and refuses to look at you.

You truly want to say something, but your voice just comes out horribly strained, making you cough- so you just leave it, trying to clear your throat, as Seokjin holds the inhaler you got from Yoongi to your lips.

Only that the hand is.. tattooed?

One look upwards and yes, there he is- it's actually Jungkook who acted so fast, eyes a slightly stressed pale blue, as he carefully helps you use the plastic container with the medicine inside, face a mix of worry and annoyance. You just let him, for now- and decide that maybe, this is his actual issue. You're now sick, you're gonna use up a lot more resources, let alone the cost of your medicine and everything. You're no use for him, only baggage.

Jungkook sighs, sits back down before he puts the inhaler away into his canvas bag. "If she wants to stay, she can, I guess.." He says, crossing his arms again. "If she wants to come with me, she can. It's whatever." He huffs, and Yoongi sighs to himself, while Seokjin chuckles.

"Well, I guess that's as much of an invitation as you'll get, little thing." He shrugs, looking down at you.

And this time, you don't feel like running after Jungkook like a lost dog.

So you just quietly shrug, and eat the rest of your meal.

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You're still hiding in Seokjin's bedroom, upset and saddened by the fact that Jungkook is truly preparing to leave you behind, when you hear someone walk through the pearl curtain that disconnects the bedroom from the main living area of the little house. "Here." He mumbles, throwing something on the bed- a plastic box, a rubber band around it to keep it shut, you guess.

You don't react, but you hear him sigh, as he sits down on the mattress, bed dipping down a little under his weight. "At least look at it, so I know I didn't buy the wrong shit." He huffs, and you roll your eyes, before taking the scratched up box, pulling the rubber band from it. And inside-

-are two, different colored knitting needles, a small pair of scissors, and two balls of grey, thick yarn.

"So?" He urges, and you can hear him play with the keychain in his hand a little. Is he nervous? Or just impatient?

What is he really thinking about you?

Why did he buy this, if he didn't at least mildly care about you?

You turn around towards him, and tap his shoulder to gain his attention- which you get, as he turns a little towards you- clearly caught off guard when you hug him. You want to see something- you need to check if your instincts are correct with this.

And when his arm- admittedly rather awkwardly- wraps around you and pats your back, you get your answer.

So you get up, put your clothes and the plastic box into a bag given to you by Jin, and stand by the pearl curtain quietly, nodding outside.

"Are you sure?" He asks, not getting up yet. "Jin's a good guy. Yoongi visits regularly, and he's got a human partner. Knows all about human health." He explains. "I mean, the planet's climate sucks, but it's at least somewhat peaceful." He says, and you just roll your eyes, and cross your arms. "..guess that's a no." He sighs to himself, though you don't miss the warmth in his eyes as he gets up, and takes your bag from you, walking out to say goodbye to Yoongi and Jin- well, mostly Jin. Yoongi just.. quietly bumps his head against yours and Jungkook's, before he simply leaves.

But Seokjin? He goes in for the hug, and it's honestly a little funny how annoyed Jungkook seems at that.

"You'll have to stay in contact!" Seokjin whines. "I need to know she's okay, and that she eats well, and that she's not getting lonely, or sad, or-" He rants, and Jungkook groans, clumsily taking your hand in his to pull you closer.

"Yeah yeah whatever, I'll look after her just fine." He argues, before he turns with you to walk off- letting you wave to Seokjin for a bit, before he tugs on your hand. "Look ahead. You'll trip otherwise." He scolds, though he keeps holding your hand-

The moment you're both back on the ship, he immediately runs an entire scan of the system and Ship's interior- telling you that he doesn't trust the mechanics on this planet too much, and that he wants to make sure they didn't leave anything here that doesn't belong. What exactly he means by that you're not sure- but after noticing how he even physically searches your room for anything off, especially the camera up in the corner, you're starting to have an idea of what he meant by that.

and it feels oddly kind, the way he keeps you both connected with a surprising tender amount of strength.

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"Do you want to stay here or come with me?" He asks, and you shrug, taking a blanket from the bed with you to instead walk closer to him. "…I really made you clingy now, didn't I?" He sighs to himself, looking at you a bit annoyed- though the faint pink-ish hue of his eyes gives you hope that he's just trying to act tough, and not genuinely upset over the fact that you'd like to keep him company from now on.

If Yoongi was correct, Jungkook simply has trouble attaching himself to others- the cat alien had told you that he didn't have the greatest upbringing, and that it left him with permanent scars.

Scars that one might not be able to see, but they're still there.

"Alright, let's see.." Jungkook mumbles to himself, as he logs into his system's autopilot, taking over the controls as he reads through all the info flying past on the screen. It's impressive to you how quickly he can seem to soak up any information practically flying past him, and it shows you just how long he's probably been doing this.

Yet, now that you think of it, you're not actually sure what exactly Jungkook does for a living, besides selling cargo here and there. But then again, should you really question it? He's putting food on the table, and gives you a safe place to stay. Better not ask too many questions, you tell yourself.

So you instead sit down somewhere near the windows, studying the pictures of the faded paper instruction manual that came in the plastic box of knitting stuff- the language foreign to you, though some words seem to click in your mind. It doesn't seem too hard to do, and considering that you've tried it in the past, it's not that difficult to pick back up where you left off years prior.

And the entire time, you don't even notice Jungkook occasionally watching you, the sight of you happily occupied with your new present doing something special to him. After all, usually, to his kind-

gifting things is considered something only mates do for one another.

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"Hey- come here for a second." Jungkook says one morning, urging you a bit closer as you enter the command center where he already sits in his usual seat, though he doesn't seem as relaxed as he's been these past few days.

Your throat has been healing well, and the entire ship by now is filling with your little animal shaped knitting work- one better than the last, after Jungkook had picked up some other colors of yarn for you at one re-fuel stop. It's been a good handful of days now- and you feel like you're actually getting comfortable with the Alien. "I'll be turning course today. I'm.. gonna leave you with Jin for a while." He says, and you instantly furrow your brows in confusion, unsure what's wrong.

"Why?" You ask, voice still a bit raspy, but it at least doesn't hurt as much to talk anymore.

Jungkook just sighs, looking away. "It's not for long, just a few weeks. I'll pick you up before the seasons change-" He explains, but you won't have it.

"That doesn't answer my question." You say, clearing your throat after somewhat getting that small sentence out. He runs his hands over his face.

"It's.. urgh, fuck!" He groans out agitated, and it's honestly both funny and a little unnerving to see Jungkook so.. embarrassed.

"I'm-… It's mating season for my kind." He huffs out defeated, arms crossed. "And since you're a female, it's kind of.. distracting." He explains, and you take that info in for a second.

And Bolku people are a proud but reserved kind, only really staying in pairs, never in groups. But Jungkook doesn't quite fit the visual characteristics, apart from his eyes- so maybe he's a hybrid too?

"Oh." You simply answer, unsure what else to say. Well, you didn't really think about that- but yeah, you remember reading something about Bolku people's.. well, mating traditions, so to speak. Not really because you ever thought anything of it- it was just interesting to find anything to read back on earth, and when you stumbled upon a common book about foreign galactic humanoid variants, you read through it.

It's how you know that Seokjin must've been some sort of human-Shairo hybrid; with his tall body and caring nature, but otherwise rather human appearance. The short, thick and scaled tail gave him away, mostly, and you read in your book back on earth how his kind has a problem with gender in their kind. They're mostly male- females are incredibly rare to be born for some unknown reason.

What's interesting now however, is how the past few days and Jungkook's actions during them, change in nature to you. The gift of the knitting stuff. The blankets he kept bringing to your room. The way he'd cuddle you throughout the journey through Cryon- all of it suddenly feels odd to you now that you know he's near his kind's mating season.

Does that mean that those weren't acts of kindness? That you weren't making any progress at all? That he was just..

..acting on instincts?

"I can just stay in my room again for the time being." You shrug, and he notices the way your posture and tone change. He's become quite good at reading your body language and subtle hints here and there- be it the tone of your voice, or the way you avoid eye contact, or how you'd change topic if he was to talk about something that made you uncomfortable. And right now, it seems as if he said something that made you almost.. defensive. And he's not sure what.

"No, I don't want to.. lock you in there again." He shakes his head. "You're not a prisoner anymore. Or anything similar." He denies.

"Then what am I?" You ask, looking at him- and he can't help but feel a little called out by you.

"That doesn't matter." He responds, but that's not enough for you anymore. You've become bold- mostly because you're not scared of him any longer, and because he's slowly, unknowingly, nurtured your will to survive back to life.

"It does to me." You croak out, coughing right after, making him cringe as his eyes turn a concerned blue hue. But he knows not to try and do anything right now- you're on edge, and he feels as if he's arguing with a cornered animal right now, any wrong move or word enough to set you off.

"Then what do you want to be?" He asks instead, making you look at him with a gaze that just screams uncertainty.

You don't know what you want to be. Especially not what you want to be to him.

When you came onto his ship, you didn't care what happened to you. You'd given up, you were ready to take whatever was thrown at you- but now you actually want to live. You want to be alive, and most importantly, you want to stay with him, and stay on this ship, and stay in this little space where everything seems okay. The amount of safety you feel here has spoiled you at this point, causing you to feel protective over it.

You don't want to stay with Seokjin, no matter how sweet and kind he is. He isn't Jungkook, and he isn't this ship.

"I don't care!" You huff out at him, moving to sit in the middle of the control center, grabbing your blanket before you throw it over your head, and hiding underneath it as you sit down facing the large window, face barely exposed. "I'm staying." You growl to yourself, and Jungkook can't help the slight amusement tickling in his chest at the fact that you're starting to pick up on some of his own behaviors.

Though your growl is anything but intimidating. It's cute, but nothing dangerous at all.

"It's just for two weeks. Three at max." Jungkook sighs, turning on the autopilot before he walks closer, tip of his boot gently tapping your back. "Hey." He calls out, but you don't answer. "I'm talking to you."

"And I'm not." You respond, pulling the blanket close so he can't see you as he crouches down next to you to catch a glimpse. "You'll leave me there."

"I thought you wanted me to leave you?" He wonders in an oddly soft tone, but you can't help but feel as if this too is just his instincts, and not actually him.

"Shut up." You respond, and he laughs.

"You kind of sound like me." He tells you, sitting down in front of you with his legs crossed. "Doesn't fit you- so stop it." He argues, pulling on the blanket- but you got a steel hold of it. "Come on, stop being a brat-"

"No!" You bark out, scooting away from him a good bit.

"I'll pick you up again." He sighs. "Promise."

"Your promise is empty." You mumble, finally giving in as he manages to pull the edge of the blanket enough with his fingers to expose your face.

"How so?" He wonders, face clearly confused, and somewhat upset.

"Cause you said it!" You argue. "I'm distracting you because you're like- horny or whatever. That's not you. And when your.. mating season is over, you'll just.. leave me with Jin." You say, looking at the ground.

"How come you humans always get so horribly attached to things so easily?" He mumbles, as if he's mostly talking to himself- eyes distant as he looks at you, hands in his lap. "Attach yourself to Jin. Not me."

"Why?" You ask timidly, unsure what he's getting at. You're not even sure yourself what you're thinking of him. You don't know why you're so attached to him.

"Because he's.. a better fit." He shrugs. "He's nice. Knows human social norms, since he's partially human as well-"

"So are you though?" You ask, testing the waters, and the way he tenses up, eyes flashing a pale, unreadable color, gives you the answer you were looking for.

So he is a hybrid too.

Suddenly, his face seems angry, jaw clenched and tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side, eyes a blazing red as he gets up and walks away. "I changed my mind." He says, tapping away on his control panel. "Go stay in your room or whatever. I don't give a shit." He growls, and for some reason, you suddenly feel guilty.

So you quietly leave, door hissing shut behind you-

before it clicks, small display near it offering only a single, pulsating message.

[Locked by Administrator]

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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the-oblivious-writer · 1 year

Text

Pretty Girl |2|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Two: Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse!

Summary: Tara and you decide to do movie night at her place. Joking around with each other quickly turns into arguing

Warning(s): Mentions of drinking, Swearing, Clueless!R, Jealous!Tara

Notes: Part two of this. Actually thinking of turning this into either a series or mini series. I re-wrote this a couple times, hope you enjoy. Part three won't come as soon as this one but it will come at some point

Previous part|Next Part

A week has passed since you decided to be bold. Well..bold is a bit of a stretch. After you ran you stumbled a few times and almost tripped face first down the stairs. You’re fine.

You’re at a local pizza shop, waiting in line to order. You and Tara decided to do another movie night at her place this time. Sam’ll be at her therapy session so it’s the perfect time for you to come over and hang out. As far as you know it’s just going to be the two of you.

Like it’s always been..so why were you catching yourself focusing on that part?

BzzBzz

—-

You finished ordering the food when your phone buzzed. You take it out of your pocket to see messages from Tara.

Tara 💜

Hey, we’re still on for later right?

noooo need to worry about the

big and scary Sam Carpenter

Ha. Ha. you’re hilarious

yeah we’re still on

is it just gonna be us?

As far as I know

why? scared this is secretly just my

plan to seduce and kill you?

and who exactly revealed my diabolical

plan to you??

I'm just that good

but don’t say that

shit around Sam lmao

wouldn’t dream of it, darling

Food’s ready so imma get going

but I’ll see you in a bit

Looking forward to it<3

—

You smile and put your phone back in your pocket, after you grab the food you make your way to your car and wait a bit before leaving.

As you raise your fist up to the door to knock, it opens and you're met with Tara’s lit up face.

“Did you even check who it was, what if I was a deranged sociopath?” You jokingly ask, slightly raising your eyebrows.

“Don’t worry, I knew it was you” Tara replied, with a smirk. You tilted your head.

“Were you tracking me, Carpenter?” You chuckled a bit. She only smirked while she helped you bring in the food.

You shook your head at her and mumbled,“Of course..” Tara couldn’t help but smile in response.

“Since when is it a crime to make sure you didn’t get kidnapped or something on the way here?” She defends, walking to the kitchen to grab utensils and a couple of cups. You playfully rolled your eyes at her comment.

“Well, I’m not kidnapped. And I’m here. So movie night can commence. I was thinking we can start with Beetlejuice” You suggest as you start to lay out the food.

“Sounds like the perfect plan to me,” She says genuinely, coming back from the kitchen.

—

The credits roll, Tara and you both lay on the coach with her head on your chest and your arm slung over her. You both were comfortable, neither of you wanted to move. But the remote was on the other side of the coffee table. Damn it.

You shuffle over to it, causing Tara to whine a little. This causes you to smile a bit at her pouting. “Only a second, not even.” You state, getting up to reach for the remote. You eventually go back to the couch and she immediately curls up next to you again.

“You’re such a baby sometimes” You tease, putting your arm back around her. She sends you a glare but it doesn’t make you back down from your words.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am. not.”

“Are. Too.”

“You’re beyond annoying sometimes, Y/N Y/L/N” She huffed, crossing her arms but still curled up next to you.

“Aww, you’re just a bit drunk so I won’t take that to heart” You continued to tease. Tara rolled her eyes but tried to bite back a smile.

“You do know you’re a dork though, right?” Tara asks, smirking while looking up at you. She figured she’d cut in on the teasing.

“Wait- you think I’m a dork, Carpenter? I’m astonished” You say a bit dramatically but jokingly, raising your eyebrows slightly.

“A huge one to be honest with you” She responds as her grip on you tightens gently. You’re too clueless to notice how she snuggled up closer to you.

“Well it takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” Tara gently shoves your side as you only smile in response. “Not as big of one as you, that’s for sure.”

“But it’s safe to say you still like this dork, at least you like me enough to stalk me-”

“-Is this still about me tracking you? Should’ve known you were gonna have a field day with that. At least it wasn’t some random doing it like that chick who’s always staring at you in our film class” Tara remarked with a slight scowl.

“Who?"

"Think her name's Isabella or something" Tara answered, with disinterest.

"Oh, I helped her with an assignment once. What’s wrong with her though? She’s cute” You respond, unaware of why she brought her up.

“Y/N, she stares at you like all the time. It’s fucking weird” Tara held a bitterness in her tone that you caught.

“Is it? I don’t know, maybe I’d want to give her my number-” Did you actually? Not really. But you wanted to test the waters. See why Tara seemed so annoyed just because a girl was staring at you.

“-To some random girl you don’t even know? That’s what it sounds like. And it sounds fucking ridiculous” You were so unsure as to why she was being so bitter about this topic. Weren’t you two just joking a minute ago?

“Why are you being so defensive about this, Carpenter?” You ask, wanting an answer. But she doesn’t give you one.

“I’m not being defensive Y/N” Tara was now fully off of you and the volume of her voice rose. “You always go for the first person who gives you attention-”

“That’s not true” Your patience was starting to grow slim as you tried to keep calm.

“Yes it is! It’s like every week it’s a new person”

“Why the hell do you care so much about who I go out with?” You asked, wanting to know what her excuse was for lashing out so suddenly.

Tara sighed in frustration,“It’s just that-” before she could finish her sentence the door starts to unlock and Sam enters.

Sam looked and saw Y/N which caused her to go into “Scolding Mode” but she stopped herself before she said anything when she saw your annoyed faces. You both seemed annoyed- no, you’re pissed at each other.

“The hell happened with you two?” Sam asked, a bit softer than how her usual tone was around you.

The older Carpenter was only met with silence as you started gathering your things. “What do you think you’re doing?” Tara asked with sternness in her voice.

“Leaving. I need to cool down for the night but when you wanna talk like damn adults you know where to find me” You retorted before leaving, slamming the door shut.

Sam looked over to Tara, still confused about what had happened.

"Shit" was all Tara could say, she knew she messed up. But she refused to admit to herself the reason she lashed out.

Sam wasn't dumb, she knew her sister. You weren't the type of friends to be this pissed at each other over nonsense.

"You wanna talk about it?" Sam walked over to Tara and sat down beside her on the couch. The spot was still warm from when you were sitting there.

"Not in the slightest" was all Tara responded with before going to her room and shutting the door. She thought about the conversation over and over again. But not once did she consider being the first to contact you.

Tara was too stubborn for that, but so were you.

-----

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream

875 notes · View notes

klausysworld · 10 months

Note

Sub Klaus × dom reader but the reader has an oral fixation and Klaus is always really sensitive bc she's always sucking his dick.

Anywhere and Everywhere

Y/n had always needed something in her mouth, it kept her calm and sated.

Whether it was a lollipop or a a pen or her fingers, anything she could suck and/or chew on. It was mostly to suck on something though, she assumed she never moved on from it as a child when she would have a pacifier. The trait must’ve stuck.

It didn’t bother her, she didn’t notice it but Klaus had and mentioned it to which she shrugged off but he was curious. He found it fun to see what random objects he could have her chew on while she was doing things and she didn’t mind as long as he was occupied and entertained.

And when Klaus got a little too much then she would put her sucking practise to the test and see how much he could really enjoy it.

She didn’t realise how much she would love it too.

Having her lips around his tip so she could taste his sweet precum. The feel of him throbbing, pulsing under her tongue and hearing his blissful sounds.

It wasn’t long before his pretty cock was her favourite thing to have in her mouth.

Whether he was sat on the sofa with her lead between his legs, blanket over her body and head as she sucked him off and he nearly tore the couch apart as she pinned his hips down and told him to keep quiet so the the people on the next room didn’t hear.

Or if they were at the dinner table and Y/n had finished eating so she decided to have desert while he was still going. Often she would hear him choke slightly on a bite of food when her hot mouth encased his hardening dick.

Whenever she wasn’t sucking on his cock, he was getting jealous of any other objects in her mouth and would beg her to suck him off for as long as she could.

And she always would, whether they were at home, in an alleyway, a bar, a restaurant, anywhere she could.

All she had to do was look at his cock and he was throwing his pants off so she could have it.

All it took was a gentle touch and he was as hard as he could be and whining desperately for her to soothe him.

Klaus became a desperate little slut for her mouth and she found both pleasure and entertainment in his begging.

She was more than happy to suck him off 24/7.

Neither of them seemed to care much about who was in the room. Often she just played with his tip and she would cover up the rest of him with a blanket or something but when she went all out and would have her mouth all over him for hours on end then there was no point even trying to cover him, there was no hiding what she was doing. And she never really wanted/cared to hide it, but she knew that Klaus (although confident in himself) didn’t need everyone seeing his dick all day every day.

But with Y/n’s oral fixation, he couldn’t really afford to have an issue with exposure.

(My dream to be y/n fr)

506 notes · View notes

badgerbl00d · 1 year

Text

one piece boys falling in love at first sight

☆ characters: ace, rayleigh, marco

☆ up next: one piece characters with a jealous gf

☆ a/n: my last post generated a lot of new followers and requests! i'm so happy and am excited to start working on all the requests. i also will be posting a master list soon so thank u for being patient with me on that front haha. enjoy! <3

ace

1k words

“Welcome aboard!!”

Cheers erupted from the crew, as they all swarmed the deck.

Joining the Whitebeard Pirates was always celebrated with an enormous party.

The sun had started to set but it still beat down relentlessly on the ship and Ace craned his neck to try and get a better view.

You were all the crew had been talking about for weeks.

Some thief who had managed to steal from the Whitebeard Pirates and get away with it.

He remembers how Whitebeard laughed when Izo and Thatch came moping back from inventory, nearly pissing themselves when they were forced to admit they’d been got by an amateur.

Whitebeard had ordered that you be tracked down immediately because anyone who stole from him with that much skill and audacity deserved a spot on his crew.

After a few weeks of searching, Izo came back with you.

From what he’d heard you weren’t easy to convince.

There was alcohol being passed around and the spray of champagne bottles being opened left and right misted his neck.

He pushed through everyone and began making his way toward the front.

He eventually bumped into Marco who’d secured a front-row seat, downing beer as your fellow pirates all came to get a look at you.

“What’s the big fuss? Can’t get any damn sleep around here,” he groaned.

Marco laughed, “Jealous that you’re not the shiny new toy anymore?”

“Barely.”

Both men had given up on trying to get a look at you and decided they’d wait for everything to die down.

“Want a beer?”

Ace nodded and readily accepted the cool can, chugging it within seconds.

“It’s hot as hell out here.”

Marco took another sip of his drink, “If you feel hot how do you think I feel.”

“Well you’re kind of fire too, you know, like- the whole phoenix thing is-”

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s different though.”

“I mean, you could argue that the blue fire is hotter than the red part.”

“Yeah, dumbass, but the point of my devil fruit isn’t fire.”

“Okay well, they’re close enough.”

The heat got the better of the both of them and they gave up their argument, both fairly moody at the heat and the noise.

“When’s the food part starting.”

“Soon probably, apparently Thatch has the hots for the kid.”

Ace choked a bit on his drink.

“What do you mean? Like he thinks he’s hot?”

“She.”

This caught Ace even more off-guard.

“She!?”

Now he really wanted to get a look at you.

After another few minutes, the crowd relented, and people started making their way back to the rest of the ship.

As the group of cheering pirates around you thinned, you felt relief flooding your senses.

You took a deep breath and walked on board the Moby Dick.

It was massive. Now that you could actually see it, you realized just how intimidating of a ship this really was. Of course, you’d had a general idea since you did rob it blind, but still. It was different when you were a welcome guest.

Ace took his chance now, and as the last of your welcoming party dissipated he made his way over to you.

As if on cue, you turned to look at him.

The sun was positioned perfectly behind your head and framed you in a sort of angelic light, it poured up and over your frame from behind you, casting golden hues through your h/c hair.

He stopped in his tracks, one foot still caught mid-step, trailing behind the other.

You were… pretty.

The slight breeze that had been brought with sunset, swept through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open.

Your lips were slightly parted, had you been saying something?

He didn’t know, he was too enraptured with everything else.

You stood tall, it was clear you had pride to spare.

Your tan skin glimmered with the same regal hue as your hair, and never in his life had Ace felt that something- someone had commanded his attention so thoroughly with just their presence.

You walked toward him, Oh my god she’s walking toward me.

He was proud and he had abundant confidence in his worth but if he’d ever doubted that, it was now that he did.

You extended a hand towards Ace, and as if moving through honey your movement was gentle and smooth, but certain.

“Hi! I’m Y/n, I think I’ve seen your wanted posters before. You-”

Whatever else you said wasn’t registered by the freckled boy in front of you.

His cheeks were red and his eyes set.

He was breathing deeply, hanging onto everything you did, drinking in the magnificent sight of you.

He instinctively reached his hand up toward his head to take off his hat and hold it against his chest.

Your voice was silky and hung in the air like cigarette smoke.

The way you looked at him, your eyes intensely focused and direct, had his knees feeling shaky.

Any ounce of ego left in his body from the first sight of you, drained out of him as you spoke.

His brain was flushed with sudden anxieties.

Had he come across as a creep? What if you took to the other guys? He was young and maybe you wanted something else? Maybe you didn’t even want a guy at all and your ambitions involving piracy had nothing to do with men!

You looked at him with a puzzled look, your nose wrinkled slightly.

“Are you okay?”

Fuck, she’s so cute.

If he had been less out of it, he would have heard Marco’s cackling in the background.

“Real smooth, Ace!” Thatch yelled from the balcony outside the kitchen.

You laughed, She laughed!

Ace blinked back the muddled thoughts and premature anxieties that had started fuzzing his thoughts.

You were giggling to yourself and seemed nearly ready to try and introduce yourself to the next person.

Ace had a million things he wanted to say to you, but he had time. You both had all the time in the world.

So he instead opted to tip his hat and flash you a smile.

“Hi.”

rayleigh

1k words

A quick stop, Roger had promised.

No more than two days, he’d said.

Everyone knew he was lying, and that they’d be landbound for at least a week, but no one was going to complain.

Almost no one.

“Roger, we should get going,” Rayleigh urged, but the Captain was three beers and ฿3,000 into a game of poker. They wouldn’t be leaving until morning.

Roger laughed loudly, earning stares from the bar's patrons.

“What’re you in such a rush for?! There’re women and booze all over the island, go find some to your liking and quit complainin’!” He laughed again and Rayleigh gave up and decided he’d just head back to the ship for now. He’d send someone to pick up the captain in the morning.

He didn’t mind the island itself. It was a spring island, and the clime sat at a gentle temperature, with easy-going winds. Tall grass covered the majority of the island and flowers were in bloom all over.

Yellow daffodils and pink tulips littered the island, dotting the hills and fields with spots of color.

He made his way slowly back toward the ship, taking more time than usual to enjoy the scenery. If he was going to be stuck here he may as well enjoy it.

The sun was just about the set, and vibrant hues of orange colored the sky and with his hands in his pockets, he wandered through the hills back to sea.

The island had no real port, there was just a bay where ships parked. There weren’t any walkways or built-in passages from which to disembark from the ship, you simply had to drop the anchor and paddle or swim to the rocky shore. The grass grew right up to the edge of the ocean, and he sat down in it, deciding he’d wait until it got dark.

A soft rustling to his left caught his attention.

Tucked in the grass, was a girl sleeping, a book in her hands.

She was wearing a white dress, and it moved together with the grass, back and forth, pushed by the wind.

A cool breeze ran through your body and with a slight shiver, you slowly blinked your eyes open, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, rolling onto your stomach.

You flipped through the pages of your book, going back and forth a few times before deciding to close it altogether.

You sat up, stretching your arms out over your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders.

Rayleigh was, for lack of a better term, entranced.

He was completely hypnotized by the sight of you.

He felt as though you’d materialized before him, a beautiful fairy or something similar.

He’d heard stories of sailors coming across women whose beauty stopped them in their tracks. Women that they thought about every night after those initial encounters, held a complete hold on their minds.

He thought that now he felt something similar.

He felt awkward just sitting and watching you, and thought he might say something.

A tug in his chest urged him to stand up and try and present himself, but he felt an irritating nervousness spread throughout his body.

C’mon, Rayleigh.

He was usually so… good at this.

If he saw a pretty girl at a bar or a port or an island he would just talk to her.

Everything after that came naturally.

He was a Roger pirate for god’s sake, people around the globe feared him and revered him, and yet… and yet with every breath, he took to try and start a sentence he came up blank.

The thirty seconds he’d spent trying to speak to you felt like an hour and he thought his heart might stop when you’d turned around to look at him.

“Oh! Hello!”

He drew in a breath.

The colored sunset light fell on your face and illuminated your features in soft hues.

Your eyes widened slightly at the man standing before you and you gave him an awkward smile.

“Have you been standing there a long time?”

An accusatory look settled on your face, and your lips settled into a frustrated pout.

“I, um, yes,” he admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, “I wasn’t- I mean- I had just sat here to enjoy the, um-”

“Yeah, yeah, you creep, I get it.”

You laughed as you said this, and he relaxed a little.

“You’re not from around here are you?” you asked.

“What gave it away?”

“You seem surprised that someone was sleeping outside. It’s normal here, I swear I’m not some weirdo or anything. Our grass is known for being soft.”

He sat back down, slightly closer to you this time.

“What’s that?”

You sat closer to him, pointing to the log pose on his wrist.

“It’s a compass. Pirates use it on the Grand Line, it works by using the magnetism from each island to route the way toward the next one.”

“You’re a pirate! You don’t look like one! Or act like one.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

You giggled, and he felt completely swept up by your presence. How quickly you started trusting him, the curiosity in your voice that only grew with each question he answered.

You continued asking him questions, what being a pirate was like, why he was a pirate, and who else did he know that was a pirate. Had he killed anybody?

The more you talked, the more he started feeling like himself. His wittiness and sarcasm started slowly coming back to him, he was able to put aside his awe for your beauty in exchange for his usual flirtiness.

The dynamic between you seemed to shift back and forth between who felt bold and who felt shy.

“Do you drink?”

“Do I look like I drink?”

Rayleigh laughed, and you joined him.

Night had set hours ago, yet you kept talking as though you had all the time in the world.

You inched even closer to him, he sat with his legs crossed, and you sat on your knees, feet tucked underneath you.

You were facing each other and you leaned forward, bringing your lips closer to his.

“When do you leave?”

He tucked some stray pieces of hair behind your ear, trailing a hand down your face.

You rested your head against his palm, looking up at him.

“Soon.”

“That’s too bad. I like you a lot. You’re more than a pretty face.”

Rayleigh smiled at that, “I haven’t heard that one before!”

In a burst of energy and eagerness you pressed your lips to his, and just as quickly retracted.

He smiled again, bigger this time, and brought his arms around your waist, holding you in place.

You pressed another kiss to his lips, still too quickly for him to reciprocate.

He laughed and you felt proud at the blush you saw coloring his cheeks.

“Tell me, pirate, are you busy tonight?”

“Not at all, pretty.”

“Would you like to be?”

“Very much.

marco

1.2k words

“Why can’t you send Ace to do it?”

“‘Cause I sent ‘im to go get fish from the market,” Thatch explained, “And before you ask, I can’t go either ‘cause I’ll be here. Cooking.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be back soon.”

Marco threw on a sweater and made his way into the town they were staying in. Thatch was all worked up and excited since they’re known for their produce and food quality.

Naturally, everyone had been sent out to get different ingredients for him.

Marco looked down at the short list he was given, ‘Apples’.

‘Very concise,’ he thought to himself.

It was midday and the sun was shining. It was fairly warm on the island, and it was covered in trees.

There were several signs that pointed him towards the location of the apple farm your family owned.

He found it with ease and walked around for a bit when he didn’t see anyone out front.

Every tree was teaming with ripe apples of all kinds. Overripe ones littered the floor and there were some chickens walking around.

He had been walking for no more than five minutes before he saw you.

You were reaching up to try and grab the apples that were up on the higher branches of the tree.

You strained your arms upward, using the trunk of the tree as support, your long legs balancing on the tips of your toes.

Your short dress slid up against your thighs, revealing a soft tan line.

A few beads of sweat formed on your forehead and after your third reach with no success, you gave up.

He could feel the pace of his heartbeat start to pick up slightly.

You looked so calm and at ease. The line of your body as you stretched upward was tantalizing and he couldn’t look away.

He didn’t want to scare you so he gently cleared his throat.

You turned around in a panic, knocking over a few of the apples in the full baskets that were on the floor next to you.

“Oh! Welcome! Sorry! Sorry- I’m the only one in today and I was trying to get a few more baskets full,” you explained to him.

“No worries,” Marco said. His voice was deep and he sounded so laid back.

You were still a bit too far to converse at a normal volume so you walked to him, caught off-guard by how handsome he was.

He wasn’t wearing anything surprising, nor was he doing anything that was out of the ordinary but you could tell that he wasn’t from around here.

His hands were calloused and he had a few visible scars spread across the visible parts of his skin.

“What can I get for you today,” you smiled at him.

“I was sent out for apples! I suppose I’ll take two baskets pleas-”

Marco’s voice trailed off and he cut off his own sentence as he looked and actually made eye contact with you.

Oh, god.

He knew you’d probably be hot based on what he’d seen earlier but you were… unspeakably beautiful.

Your cheeks were full and bright.

Your lips were a lively pink and your eyes caught the shifting glimmers of sunlight in them.

Your hair was pulled back into two messy braids and your loose strands of hair swept back and forth over your face.

You were unbelievably flattered.

Naive as you were to love and its complications, you knew what a tempted man looked like.

An unfamiliar sensation tugged at your chest. You felt like the tendons and muscles around your heart were opening and contracting wildly.

Your breath hitched in your throat and settled itself right on your vocal cords, you couldn’t say anything.

You both held a hilariously awkward form of eye contact for several moments.

Marco swallowed and cleared his mind, regaining his composure to the best of his ability.

“Two of these,” he said again, blinking his gaze down toward the floor as he gestured down toward the basket.

You took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing another basket for him.

They were heavier than they looked and after watching your two failed tries at lifting the baskets, Marco offered some help. “Oh, y-yes, please! Thanks,” you said, stepping back as he walked over and picked up the baskets with ease.

“How much do I owe ya?”

“Um.. j-just ฿15.”

“Fifteen?! That’s it?”

“We have, um, a discount going on right now... For handsome travelers.”

Why would I say that? Oh my god, why would I say that!? your cheeks started to rapidly heat up and you shuffled your feet nervously.

Your heart started beating faster against your chest when Marco responded, “How sweet. Take this as a tip then.”

He had a devilishly handsome smile on his face, and you looked at the money he was handing you. “Oh fifty is way too much- I can’t accept that, that’s more than the two baskets would normally be anyway.”

“Well, this is what I always tip beautiful girls.”

You laughed, trying to ignore the rising temperature of your face.

How embarrassing to be this easily flustered.

He smiled at you, clearly enjoying himself.

“C’mon, I insist,” he closed your hand around the money and gently guided your hand back toward your chest.

You pouted, feeling guilty that he gave you so much money.

“You’re sure?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pirate,” he said, “There’s a lot more where this came from.”

His voice was full of confidence but he was so relaxed.

It made your stomach twist.

The way he carried himself- you could tell he was dangerous, but he was so laid back.

“A pirate?”

He nodded.

You put the money away, and played with the ends of your braids, unsure of what to say to him.

He bent down, one arm on each side of you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you stood frozen still.

He picked up the baskets, one in each hand, from your sides.

“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of my day here, I’m afraid I have to report back soon.”

You nodded, sheepishly looking down at the floor.

He smiled at you again, winking this time.

He turned and started walking back toward the entrance.

You knew you’d probably never see him again and a kind of unknown anxiety made its way to your chest.

“Wait!” you called out, running after him.

He turned around.

“Will... Will I see you again?”

This time a less nonchalant smile spread across the Commander’s face.

“Oh, absolutely,” he teased, “I’ve got wanted posters in every town from here to North Blue.”

You pouted again.

So cute! Marco thought to himself.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can work something out.”

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Marco,” he answered, “What’s yours?”

“Y/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty face.”

You smiled.

He couldn’t help but stare.

It suddenly dawned on Marco the Phoenix, First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, that he was positively, undoubtedly fucked.

You stood in front of him, waiting for him to say something else.

“You’ll see me again,” he said, this time with unwavering certainty,

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6. Don’t make plans for the next morning.”

2K notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 6 months

Note

I just want to start off by saying that you’re keeping all of us Tyrone girlies well fed!! You’re hands down one of my favorite writers on Tumblr ❣️

Not sure if you’re taking requests , but I would kill to see Tyrone be the jealous/pining one. He just always seems so cool and collected. Maybe it’s like a friends to lovers thing (or maybe they’re FWB and he hasn’t made it official) and someone asks the reader out before he does. Might be slightly toxic, but I feel like it’s on brand for him

Break Me

Pairing: Tyrone x Mean!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, Toxic Tyrone, all consensual. Multiple uses of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: See ask. While you get ready for your date, Tyrone invites himself over to make you address where you stand with each other.

Word Count: 5,102k

A/N: I have no excuses for myself. None. Head empty. I'm SO sorry this took forever to get out, I feel so bad. I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you for calling me one of your fave writers! ILY! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt! Not everyone got tagged, simply because the list is so long and some of them have been inactive, no hard feelings!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @soft-persephone @henneseyhoe @dayjlovesromance @browngirldominion @melaninpov @sevikasblackgf @tranquilfandomer @empressdede @mybonafidefeelings @westside-rot @blackerthings @slippinninque @nicolexnight @honeytoffee @l-auteuse @jarfulloftears @thadelightfulone @kindofaintrovert @softscorpio17 @lovedlover @montysstuffs @blowmymbackout @miyuhpapayuh @soapjay @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @sunkissedebony97

You sang along to Megan the Stallion’s song, “Girls in the Hood”, at full blast while you readied yourself for a date. Your shoulders bumped to the familiar beat, sliding on lip gloss. You felt good. Lighter than air. Dare you say…excited for the date?

You snickered and shook your head. No, you were not excited for no funky ass date. It was just nice to get dressed for once and leave your apartment for a Saturday night. You had been working hard the past few weeks, trying to get a little recognition at work.

You were approaching that time. The time where they either started showing some love or you were going to use their computers to find a new one. You hated starting over at a new place. You hated trying to suss out if the new people were going to be cool or full of microaggressions.

You sighed as you looked over your makeup in the mirror. You liked the soft complementary tones to your skin tone. Tonight was about you and that was all there was to it. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand.

You looked down, swiping to open it, and read the text from Tyrone.

Tyrone With That Monster: Need this dick?

Heat pulsed through you from the text alone. You stared at the screen as you willed your body to recover from the brief flashback to the last time Tyrone texted you. The way he had your legs in the air and was knocking your headboard into your wall so hard, there were still grooves there.

Nope, nope, nope. You were not going back there. It had been about a month since you last spoke to him. Both of you were too involved in your worlds to manage more than a scheduled back breaking. You did not need that toxic ass nigga in your life. No matter how good the dick was.

You texted back: naw, busy tonight.

Tyrone With That Monster: busy doin what? Watchin them corny ass shows?

You giggled and shook your head. You enjoyed cooking shows, there was nothing wrong with that. You knew it was fake as hell, but the food looked so good after. And dammit, you cared about some of the contestants whose lifelong dream it was to cook for their favorite chefs.

You: naw, a date

Tyrone With That Monster: what you mean a date?

You: I said what I said

You flipped your phone over. You did not have time to go back and forth with Tyrone. He wasn’t usually a fast texter and you still needed to slip on your dress. Your playlist flipped to “Body” by Megan the Stallion and you shimmied your way to your closet. You pulled out dress after dress, wondering which one screamed that you were classy but liked to be fucked into oblivion.

Your phone buzzed and buzzed but you ignored it. It was a text tone and you sincerely hoped that Vaughn was not the type of nigga to text that he was here. His ass better come to the door like a gentleman. He was too early anyway.

Going through your options, you decided to go with a burnished orange mini dress. You’d have to spend the night making sure you weren’t flashing your ass for the wrong crowd but it was short enough for Vaughn to get the message. You opened your closet door to reveal the mirror hanging from it.

You slipped the dress on, carefully yanking it down to fit over your wide hips and ass. You turned in the mirror to look at how the dress hung. Damn, you could see the bottom of your ass. There was no way to keep it down. Shit. Not appropriate for dinner. It was appropriate for the club, so you grabbed your phone from the vanity, ready to text your friend about a potential club date.

You had several missed messages from Tyrone asking where you were going, who you were going with, what you were wearing, why you stopped answering, etc. You giggled running through the messages. You didn’t know what was going on with him, acting like ya’ll went together real bad.

You were in the middle of typing a reply when you heard a thumping noise. You turned down Megan, a cardinal sin you know, and listened. Someone was banging on your door like they were the police. You tossed your phone onto your bed and headed towards the front door.

If it was your date, it was off. You had no time for a disrespectful ass mu’fucka. You looked through your peephole and gasped. Tyrone stood with his back towards you, scanning your neighborhood.

You opened the wooden door, staring at him through the metal door. “Tyrone?” You asked.

“Open up,” he said.

You crossed your arms. “Why are you here bangin’ on my door like that? You know my neighbor–”

“Is deaf as hell. Open this damn door,” he said and sucked his teeth.

Your pussy fluttered and you squeezed your thighs to make the ol’ girl calm down. So it had been a month since you seen him. So you still woke up in the morning sometimes from dreams where he folded you in half. Tyrone was a fuck boy, through and through, and you had no time for that.

“Who the hell do you think you talkin’ to like that? Take that bass out ya voice,” you said.

“Open this damn door,” Tyrone said, lowering his voice and injecting more bass. Asshole. That only turned you on more.

You sighed and twisted the lock, opening the door for him. You didn’t want to cause a scene. The sweet old lady you lived next door to was kind and treated you like a granddaughter. She wouldn’t understand why you’d put up with someone like Tyrone.

You didn’t really understand it either. You just knew that you hated a weak ass man. There was nothing wrong with men who listened to their ladies and were sweet in everything that they did. But it turned you off when you told someone to shut up and they just went, “yes, ma’am”.

Where was the fight? Where was the passion? Words never swayed you. You were always about the action.

Tyrone swept into your apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He closed the wooden door and then finally faced you. Letting him in was a mistake you genuinely regretted at that moment.

He looked so cozy standing there in a hooded jacket, jacket over it, thick black jeans, and some Jordans. You wanted to bundle up with him. In your room. Under the covers.

“The hell you going dressed like that?” He asked.

“Hello to you too, nigga,” you rolled your eyes and traipsed back to your room. Tyrone’s thunderous steps followed.

“Shoes off!” You snapped.

Tyrone sighed dramatically, never understanding the thing about taking off his shoes. You didn’t know which ho’s house he was coming from or which backwoods ass alley he was selling out of, but you did not want it tracked all over your soft brown carpet.

Tyrone followed you to your room where you slipped the dress back over your head. You were braless and Tyrone openly stared at your tits but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. He was barely a friend and he would be nothing more so there was no harm.

Even though you felt his gaze like a physical thing. As if he were already pulling you close and running his hands across your breasts, squishing, kneading…okay, stop it.

You looked through your other dresses, trying to find something before your date showed up. You roughly had an hour, so you hoped you could find something quickly. If finding your dress was hard, finding a matching pair of heels was harder.

“So you just gon’ flash them shits and ignore me?”

“What do you want, Tyrone? I said I was busy,” you told him. Your back was to him. You didn’t want to look at him too long or give him any hint that he could approach you. You weren’t sure you had the willpower to resist him.

Did you love him? No. You barely tolerated him. You weren’t even sure how you fell into “fuck buddy” territory. It had been a wild couple of months, where you had more fun having sex than you could remember.

But, the more you hopped in with him, the less you wanted to hop in with anyone else. And that simply wouldn’t do.

You were growing uncomfortably wet. Your brain and heart didn’t want him, but your pussy did. Every swish of your thighs and dip of your hip reminded you of how wet you grew around him. If he were to enter you right now, he wouldn’t need to work himself in. You were your very own slip n’ slide.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, you didn’t want to have to explain yourself.

“You said you didn’t do dates,” he said.

“I don’t.” You couldn’t concentrate on finding a dress while he stood there, across the way from you. It felt like he was crowding your space. Or maybe that was just his presence.

“What the fuck? Why you actin’ like this?” He asked.

“I’m not acting like anything. You the one that showed up unannounced,” you said. You risked a glance at him. He had his hands in his hoodie pocket, head tilted a bit to the side, and eyes furrowed.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. With his big, sexy ass lips. Wide nose. Fierce eyebrows. Your pussy would never let you forget what his tongue could do. Could you clean yourself up real quick? You didn’t want to go out on a date with soaked panties.

You pulled the next dress you could find out of the closet and held it up to yourself. It was a black, sleeveless midi dress that would more than cover your ass but still short enough to not hinder you from getting some tonight.

You had been depriving yourself of dick, mostly because you were bored with the current rotation. They weren’t doing anything new, weren't trying to do anything new, and you didn’t have time to break it down for them.

You were ready to hop on and get yours. So you quietly ghosted the current roster and set to work building up some potentials. Vaughn was the only one with some sense so far. He used proper grammar, he had hobbies outside of playing ball on the weekends or surfing the internet trolling, and he was on his grown man grind.

“If you wanted a date, why didn’t you ask me?” Tyrone asked.

You laughed. The sound erupted from you, loudly and rudely, and you held your hand to your mouth to rein it back in.

“You? Taking me on a date? Be fuckin’ forreal.” You couldn’t hide the laughter in your tone.

“You actin’ like a nigga can’t take you somewhere nice. After we fuck, you kickin’ me out the bed.”

Laughter still shook your shoulders as you glanced at him. But he wasn’t laughing. His lips were pressed together and you had to really look at him. Was he serious?

“I thought that was what we agreed to?” Did you miss something?

“Yeah, I thought we agreed to fuck with each other.”

“And do?”

“So why you switching shit up, going on dates? When we got started, I asked you out a few times.”

You bit the corner of your mouth. You hated messy shit like this. “Not that I have to explain myself, but I felt like a date today. Felt like doing something new. Fuck buddies starting to get played if I can’t hang out after,” you said. You shrugged your shoulders.

You weren’t in the market for a relationship. Didn’t have the time. But you supposed that you wanted a friend with benefits. Hang out to do dumb shit like go to the movies, go see a gallery opening, go out to dinner and then come home to get off. You weren’t down for the cuddling shit but maybe? You didn’t know what you were after, but this wasn’t it anymore.

You couldn’t picture Tyrone doing any of those things. He was too busy, too rough around the edges, to fit the ideal friend you were looking for.

“Then why can’t we hang after?” Tyrone asked.

You fought a smile. “And do what, Tyrone? Watch my corny ass shows that you complain about? Talk about work? Go out to the same five fast food restaurants and eat in the car, parked somewhere?”

“Damn, you think that about me?” His voice got soft. Shit. No, no. This was going all wrong. Tyrone was good for being a stone wall. You could say whatever and do whatever. He didn’t care. You liked that he didn’t care.

“I’m saying that this isn’t an exclusive thing. We both knew that. How many women you don’ fucked on your way over to me? How many girls you got waiting for a call back from you?”

“Ion know, I ain’t messed with none of them bitches for a good while. You’d know that if you texted me for something other than dick,” he said.

“Need I remind you who texted who tonight?”

“You’re so fuckin’ irritating!” Tyrone exploded.

“I don’t know what you want!” You screamed back.

“You! Dumb ass!”

Your mouth was already open, ready to rip apart anything he said in response. But when his words sunk in, when the pounding of your heart in your ears lessened, it dawned on you that he said he wanted you.

“Oh,” you said. You stood there awkwardly. You had the dress in your hands, hanging limply from the hangar. You lifted it, covering yourself, not sure what to say to that.

“You don’t even think about me, do you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you said. You faced away from him.

“Then tell me what’s going on in your head, ‘cause I never do. I don’t fuckin’ get you half the time. But I know I want you,” he said.

“You just want what’s between my legs. This my fuckin’ pussy,” you snapped. Anger bubbled in your gut. Who the fuck did he think he was, pulling this shit? Forcing you to confront these…these…fuck ass feelings? You were about your money. You were about your grind. This was precisely why you didn’t want relationships and cut niggas off before it got this far.

This was ultimately your fault, for letting him linger for so long. But how could you deny your insane chemistry with him? You never got the grooves fixed in your wall because you liked remembering how he handled your body. You liked remembering that he worshiped every inch of you and never made a snide comment about your looks or weight.

You pretty for a big girl…it’s nice to be out with someone who eat like me, not like a damn bird…

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Ain’t that what you said?” Tyrone fired back.

You sighed and pushed past him, heading for the bathroom. “I need to get ready for my date,” you mumbled.

Tyrone blocked your exit from your bedroom, using his size to crowd in even more. “How could you still think about that nigga when I’m right in front of you? Telling you I want you? We can stop the sex right now, if you’ll give me a chance,” he said, his tone soft. His eyes were pleading with you, silently begging you to make that leap.

“There’s only sex between us, Tyrone. Move,” you said. You looked away from him, digging your hands into your flesh, clutching the dress to yourself.

“Fine. Tell me your pussy ain’t wet and I’ll leave,” he said.

“That’s not fair, Tyrone,” you said.

“I don’t care. Tell me it isn’t. Tell me them little ass panties ain’t fuckin’ soaked.”

“Sex was never our problem,” you told him.

“You ain’t trynna be with me and I know you ain’t trynna be with whatever fuck nigga you got comin’ to swoop you up. You don’t even know if his dick as good as mine. Let me send you out proper then,” he said.

He closed the minimal distance between you, pressing his lips to your temple. “Show me you truly don’t fuck with me no more and I’ll leave,” he said.

“You just confessed that you want me. How fair is it to let you hit after that? Or let you hit and then go out with someone else?” He could not fuck you into being with him. There was no way that he was going to fuck some feelings into you.

Stupidly, a small part of you still didn’t want to give him up. You wanted him to take back what he said. To unring that bell. You wanted him to take those words from your brain so that he could stay on the roster. Stay unbothered. You didn’t want to change your arrangement.

“I’m just some fuck boy right? I got other women waiting on this dick, so what does it matter?”

“Because you already ruined it!”

Tyrone only smirked. He tugged on the dress. You held on but you didn’t want to tear the dress either. You let it go and he tossed the dress onto your ottoman. He spread your arms out and he looked down at your titties. It was just cold. That was the only reason your nipples were beaded up like that.

“I can’t ruin what never was. I’m a grown ass man. I can handle rejection,” he said. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples and you fought off a shiver.

“Tyrone…” You knew this was a bad idea. “We shouldn’t.”

Dammit, you were dick whipped. And you knew that you had to hold out. Had to remain strong. You couldn’t fuck someone who had feelings for you. You were an asshole but you had to be an asshole with some rules. There was a line somewhere.

Tyrone took off his jacket and then took off his hoodie, revealing a white t-shirt. His lips returned to your forehead, then your cheek, bypassing your mouth and headed towards your neck. You melted into his kisses, leaning your head back for more. Wait, no.

You pushed him away and put your hands up. “We can’t.”

“We shouldn’t. We can’t. Tell me no. Tell me no since you ain’t want me,” he said.

“I told you that sex was never our problem,” you said. You’d definitely have to change your panties now. You couldn’t go on a date like this. All hot and bothered. “I hate you.”

Tyrone smirked, removing his shirt. Your mouth dropped open. It had been far too long since you seen him naked. Since you seen that one eyed-monster he got hiding in his pants.

His hands deftly unbuttoned his jeans, the zipper moving slowly down. You followed the action. You were throbbing right now, needing a really good dick down. Wasn’t that what the whole Vaughn thing was for anyway? You had been texting him for a few weeks and you appreciated that he wasn’t begging for pussy. But Tyrone was right. You didn’t know if Vaughn was good in bed yet.

“What was it that you said? It’s your pussy right? Don’t you want to take care of her before your date? Just so you’re in it thinking with your head,” he said.

Tyrone waited. He waited for you to tell him no. To tell him to get dressed, walk out, and leave you free for your date. You just stared at his hands on his jeans, ready to pull them down.

“I hate you,” you sighed. You weren’t strong. You were not every woman. It was not all in you. He was right. He was a grown man and he could handle rejection. One last roll around the sheets wouldn’t kill him. Maybe he needed that final nut to get you out of his system.

Tyrone’s smug smile split his face as he dropped the jeans. His dick was already pressing against his black boxer briefs. He rubbed himself over the top. “Get that pretty ass on the bed,” he said.

He had you, so he was back to familiar territory. You followed his directions, walking backwards until your legs hit the bed. You sat down. He approached, still rubbing that wonderful, beautiful dick of his.

You licked your lips. You reached out to grab the band of the boxers, but he slapped your hand away. You gave him a funny look but he only knelt down slowly. He hauled your legs to his shoulders and scooted in, until you were angled perfectly.

He took a deep breath. “Missed this fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He moved your panties to the side and started eating you out. No teasing, no games, just big lips attached to your pussy and eating like it was his God given right.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. You tried to scoot back a bit. You weren’t used to such intensity from him.

Tyrone pulled you forward, pressing his shoulders under your thighs and forcing your legs wider. Music still played in the background, a sensual R&B tune called “Flames” that only highlighted this naughty moment.

His tongue flicked against your clit. He attacked it with precision, flicking it back and forth since he knew it was the quickest way to get you off. As he did that, his left hand held your pussy lips open. His right hand trailed down in your slickness and pushing inside you.

“Ohhhhh,” you moaned to the ceiling. He fucked you with his thick digits, going in and out at a fast pace. Your thighs shook on his shoulders.

“Mhm, this yo pussy right?” He whispered against your clit.

“Yess,” you moaned. And it was. You were the proud owner of something that drove men insane. Thinkin’ they owned you or some shit. You were the mu’fucka that had to deal with it day in and day out. So why should it belong to a mu’fucka who couldn’t find your clit even if you drew them a map?

Tyrone suckled on your clit, driving his fingers deeper inside of you. Tyrone didn’t need a map. He knew exactly what to do. He flipped his hand over, curling his fingers in a come hither motion. You clutched his braids as you came on his face. Shaking. Quaking. Was there an earthquake or were you just shaking that damn badly from this momentous orgasm?

“Fuuhh,” you cried out. It had been entirely too long. Damn, my bad sis, you mentally thought about your vagina. You would never deprive her for so long again.

You twitched as Tyrone continued to lap up your orgasm, groaning at your taste. He was mumbling something but you couldn’t hear. He leaned back, lifting his soaked fingers to his mouth and suckled up your juices.

He stood up and peeled off your panties. “Knew you were wet as fuck,” he said, self satisfaction written all over his face.

“Whatever, nigga,” you groaned. He chuckled and picked you up. He tossed you further on the bed. You were ready to admonish him for it, but he finally freed that big ass monster. His dick bobbed when he was finally free.

He stood there a moment, letting you look your fill. “Hurry up and come fuck me,” you said. You didn’t have time to play. You weren’t sure what the time was. Oh yeah, you tossed your phone onto the bed.

Tyrone chuckled. He grabbed your waist and flipped you over. The bed dipped as he climbed on.. Where did he get the fuckin’ audacity to toss you around like this? Was this the same Tyrone? Did he have a twin or clone somewhere who was a little sex freak?

He slapped your ass. “Goddamn,” he said. “That fuckin’ recoil is dangerous.”

“Who do-”

He entered you and you gasped from his size. Did he get bigger? Was that possible? This couldn’t be the same dick you were hopping on a few weeks ago. “Oh fuck,” you gasped.

Your hands clutched the red sheets, trying to pull yourself away from him. You weren’t prepared for this!

Tyrone slammed your hips back down on his girth and you cried out. A mix of pain and pleasure had your hand frantically reaching back. Tyrone grabbed it and pushed it into the bed next to your head. His large hand covering yours was sexy all by itself. Your pussy fluttered and Tyrone groaned.

“This yo pussy right?” He asked.

“Yeesssuh,” you moaned.

You started throwing it back on him, slapping your ass against his thighs. The wet smacking got louder than the music playing in the background. “Fuck me,” he moaned and went harder.

A dance of dominance began. Your hips rolled as you tried to gain some type of control. You liked getting fucked as much as the next person, but he was an entirely different animal tonight. A dangerous one. He was pulling out all kinds of moves you didn’t know he had. And you were unprepared for it. Blindsided that this mu’fucka still had some tricks up his sleeve.

But every inch you tried to gain, he’d switch it up. He took his hand off of yours and replaced it on your hip. He lifted up his right leg to steady himself. Then he really went to town. Each meeting of your skin on his was like a shotgun blast. Lethal. Loud. His thrusts were hard. His strokes deep.

He moved his hand again, snaking it under your bodies until he found your clit. “Oh, shit, wait,” you mumbled.

“Uh-uh, this yo pussy. Treat her right,” he grunted. His harsh breaths fanned over your overheated skin.

His fingers were too much. You reared up as another orgasm tore through you. Like a mini tornado. You shook, your eyes crossed, and pleasure whipped you into a chaotic frenzy. As you were still cumming, Tyrone pulled out long enough to flip you onto your back.

Your hands flew to his chest, but he ignored you. The nigga had a demon inside of him. He licked his lips as he rammed back inside of you. Your back bowed off of the bed.

“What the fu–”

“Ima need one more, pretty girl,” he said. He pressed his chest into yours. His sweat mixed with yours. You slid easily against him, both panting and grunting and rutting like two mu’fuckas in heat.

“I can’t–”

“Sure you can. It’s your pussy, you can do what you want,” he murmured into your neck. He lifted his head and kissed you.

You were stunned, gasping, and he took advantage licking the lip gloss from your lips. His tongue played with yours.

On the heels of your last orgasm, he pulled another one from you. Like a little thief. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Surely, you saw stars. The universe. You knew every answer known to man in that moment. You touched another reality as your body flooded his dick.

He slipped out and he frantically shoved back in. “That’s right. You treat that pussy well,” he said. He continued to kiss you and fuck you through it. You couldn’t comprehend anything beyond his dick ramming inside of you as if he were truly trying to steal your guts.

Distantly, you heard your ringtone. “Ignore it,” you said against his lips.

“Answer it,” he said.

“What?”

“Answer. That. Shit.” Every word was a deeper stroke. How was he not as deep as possible already?!

You turned your head, your hand frantically reaching through your red sheets for your phone. Vaughn’s name flashed on the screen. Fuuuuuck.

Pressure built in your lower belly. You clenched around Tyrone’s thick dick. “On speaker,” Tyrone said with a smirk.

Your hand shakily swiped to answer and then you put him on speaker. You laid the phone on your chest. Tyrone seemed to like that because he grinned and then turned his attention to your abandoned nipples.

He suckled one into his mouth. “H-Hello?” You answered, trying to sound like you weren’t getting your guts rearranged.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that I was five minutes out.” Vaughn had a deep voice too. Not quite as deep as Tyrone’s. But it still lovingly caressed your ears.

“I’m so sorry. I uh-” You bit your lip to keep from moaning. He was so damn big. His thrusts turned shallow, giving you a little room to breathe. His tongue laved around your nipple, sending sharp tugs to your pussy.

“I should’ve texted,” you said. Your voice sounded strained to your own ears. If Vaughn wasn’t dumb, he’d know that you were doing something nasty. With someone that wasn’t him.

“Everything okay? You sound out of breath?” Vaughn asked.

“I feel so sick.” You bit your lip again as Tyrone nibbled. He threw you a wink and then slammed into you once. You heaved and hoped it didn’t sound like a moan.

“Do you want me to bring something over? I just passed a store,” Vaughn said.

Take the fuckin’ hint, damn! “That’s–sweet. No, I’ll call, okay?” You asked.

“Alright. I’ll check on you. I hope you feel better.” He was so sweet. Dumbass.

“Okay, byee!” You hung up the phone just as Tyrone increased his strokes. His balls slapped against your wet pussy, your sheets drenched from your orgasms.

“This yo pussy?” Tyrone asked as he threw his head back and finally came, flooding you with his cum.

“Shiiii–” You came with him, both of you mutually lost to it. To the heat and pleasure chasing around and around inside your body.

Tyrone grabbed your wrists as his dick pulsed inside of you. You felt the spurts leaking out of him. He pressed your wrists close to your head. He grunted as he felt you clenching and unclenching around him, greedily sucking it all in.

“Sorry about your date,” Tyrone panted and grinned.

“I hate you so goddamn much,” you said and chuckled.

“Let’s throw on one of them corny ass shows and I’ll eat you out again.” He kissed along your jaw, wiggling his hips a bit so you knew he was still thoroughly lodged there, burying his cum deep inside you.

Well, who were you to complain? You ain’t want to go out that badly anyway.

Whew! You feelin' alright? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyrone x Black reader #x Black reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x Fem reader #Tyrone x Mean!reader #Tyrone x Mean reader #Toxic Tyrone #Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone fanfic #They Cloned Tyrone fan fic #They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction #They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction #Black writers #Tyrone x you #Tyrone x reader

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cartierdreamx · 1 year

Text

THE LAST SLICE

good morning my sweet babies! hope your weekend is going more than incredible, just a short, sweet one shot i thought of when i randomly have the urge to write, hope you enjoy!! J <333

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

Warnings: angst (? like if you read in between the lines😭), swearing, it’s really just fluff LMFAO.

Summary: jenna wanted a sign.

Words: 2k+

This fic includes no NSFW themes, but my blog does have a minors DNI rule! you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment, which this fic falls under. thank you!

“You gotta be faster than that, Ortega.” You tease, sticking your tongue out as you take the last pizza slice, Jenna’s hand narrowly missing the food she had craved the most the entire morning, she knew the crew was going to order pizza for everyone just after the ‘cut’ was called for lunch to commence. But pizza being pizza, it was a war to get to the slices, unfortunately you and Jenna would be one of the last ones to get to the buffet table having need to debrief with each other, the director, and the producer about the scene. Luckily today, debrief was quick and the cheese with carefully placed pepperoni all over creating little pools of grease called out something, your name.

“I’m gonna kill you, l/n.” A stern brunette darts her eyes up at your as you take a bite, a bite so comedically insane she was so sure you were mocking her, to be fair, you are. “Oh, I hate you.”

“Mhmhm, I call bluff, you’re not going to kill me,” you roll your eyes, taking yet another sweet bite, killing Jenna just a bit more, “and plus, you love me.”

“No, I don’t.” Jenna was quick to shut the statement down, mostly to change the subject because she didn’t want to give you two wins today. You knew she loves you, you love her too, except the only difference is, she only reciprocated platonic feelings. It was an accident, but sometimes the best things come from accidents, falling for her was an accident, not a mistake, well you hope it isn’t a mistake.

By now, you were used to the daily making out with random actors and actresses, most roles you booked had a love story in it and you were a main love interest every time, what can you say, your charms hypnotised the world.

But there was a certain charm that washed over you, her, Jenna’s gaze was something, her heart was everything. She was, she is, your everything. To this day, you steal every look you can and when she catches you, a soft blush always surfaced its way to your cheeks, which only made her laugh. You promised yourself you wouldn’t fall for America’s sweetheart but it’s a whole lot easier breaking self-promises, and you also promised yourself, no matter what your delusions would tell you, she doesn’t have feelings for you back.

“Mhmh, you held the kiss longer than you were supposed to.” You retort, teasing her and only slightly flirting with her, making sure she doesn’t read into it.

She scoffs and playfully punches your arm, “BUT YOU DIDN’T BREAK AWAY!”

You play a sly grin, making her giggle a bit, “I didn’t hear cut.” You shrug. And before she could come up with a quirky comeback, your moment was slightly ruined by the producer’s son who has been shadowing his dad for the past few weeks and unfortunately for you, he was quick to pine over Jenna, who wouldn’t? The world’s pining over her, you’re pining over her, it’s no surprise he is too.

It’s no lie he made you jealous, not that you wanted any of his features or his personality, actually you think his personality is quite cheesy, he made you jealous because in your eyes, in your mind, Jenna was pinning over him too, you wanted her to pine over you, wanted her to want you the way he does, the way you do.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but can I steal Jenna away for a second.” He asks, she smiles, see, it was that damn nature of his that made her smile, that damn nature of his that you curse, although it wasn’t fair for you to dislike the guy for this very reason, it was your nature to wallow in angst every time they were together.

“You could steal me anytime, Idrys.” She giggles, making you die inside even more. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, just smiling and nodding at him, giving him the ‘okay.’ As he whisks her away, your eye stays locked on them, mostly locked on Jenna, watching her every move, jealousy brewing from your stomach seeping its way to your heart.

The delectable pizza was just a cold mush to you now, nothing about it was desirable to you anymore, that sinking feeling got to you, you toss the rest of your slice in the bin, but what you saw next made you even more sick, your eyes relayed the sight of Idrys towering over Jenna whilst she looks up, laughing flashing him with those dreamy eyes of hers.

“I love my son, but Jenna can do so much better than him.” Turning around, you see your producer pursing his lips at you, “I’m serious, y/n, they have no chemistry.”

“They make a cute couple.”

“Wow, for someone who has an Oscar, you are a terrible liar.” Placing his hands on your shoulder, centring you down.

“I wasn’t lying.”

“But you weren’t telling the truth, they make a cute couple because they’re both attractive, and that’s it, they share no fire, you and Jenna do.”

“I am a great actress.” You cheese, trying to lighten the mood and hopefully change the subject, but that was a horrible attempt as it only directed the attention of your director to you two, which he thought it’d be a great idea to welcome herself into the conversation.

“That you are, but no one could act the way you feel about her, the way she feels about you.” She starts, “what you two have is real, and I mean more than just your friendship, like don’t get me wrong, that shit is cute, but the raw chemistry and love you two share, that is unmatched, his son can only imagine having that with her.” She looks to her side, shaping an ‘O’ with her mouth, “no offence, man.”

“None taken, you’re one hundred percent right, and plus, EVERYONE saw that kiss, she held it longer than she was supposed to.” Solidifying her point. Those two acted like a married couple, they weren’t together, but you could’ve sworn their dynamic was unmatched, “go get the girl, y/n.” They say in unison, walking away together, only proving you right.

“Hey, sorry that took a while, what did they want?” Jenna’s voice getting louder as she steps closer to you, now looking at you with the same dreamy eyes, except it was different, jumping to conclusions those eyes screamed platonic. What your dumbass didn’t realise was that the look she gave you was different, she never looked at anyone the way she looks at you, her eyes were love sick, she was lovesick, for you.

“Oh, it’s no problem, and uh, they were just talking about my character development, how they want my character to grow.” Lying through your teeth, you just hope she couldn’t see through you the way the other two did.

“You didn’t like it? It’s okay if you don’t, you can speak to them, they love and respect you, like you’re their love child, cus everyone agrees they act like a married couple.” She says, in the sweetest, softest tone, you could melt, bend at your knees. “You seem upset, baby.” Baby.

You shake your head and with such slyness you lean on the table, making sure you don’t topple over at the sound of her nickname for you, you weren’t lying when you told yourself you would bend at your knees for her.

“Huh? OH, no, no, I’m not upset at all.” Another lie, “it’s just been a long week and I can’t wait to get home; the new season of Black Mirror is out.” You smile, baring all your teeth, now that one wasn’t a complete lie, it has been a long week and there is a new season that you can’t wait to binge.

“Hurgh, I thought you said we’d watch it together!” Jenna acts betrayal as she grasps her shirt near her heart region.

“Okayyyyy, come over tonight.” Rolling her eyes at her, making sure your invitation was finite and not a question, so she would have to come over.

“Oh, uh, actually, I would love to.” There’s a change in her tone.

“But…?”

“But I have a date tonight, with Idrys, it’s what we were talking about before. Watch it without me, I’ll catch up.” Oh. You regret inviting her, because maybe you’d only have to hear about the date after it happened. Oh, who are you kidding, she would’ve told you the second she got back and the voice in your head would be pestering you to dig at her, asking what their conversation was about, you were going to find out about the date in a heartbeat.

“Right, well that’s better than spending it with me on my couch, so have fun, he’s cute, and no doubt you’re going to look breathtaking tonight.” You try your hardest to not show the stabbing feeling that buries your heart right now.

“I’m glad you think so, pick me up at seven.” She cheeses, with such mischief behind her eyes.

“JENNAAAA.”

“Thank you, baby.”

How could you say no.

As Jen enters your car, you can’t help but stare in awe, she looks ethereal, she is ethereal. She was wearing a black mini skirt that hugged her hips, accompanied by a sheer white button up that caressed her curves, thought the material was sheer, it wasn’t completely see through, and her hair was up in a slick, mid bun with her middle part showing.

There was no one in the world, the universe that made you feel the way she did, she was like basking in the warm Australian sun, like the skyline of a city at night time reflecting on your skin, where light was, she was there, she isn’t the light, she’s your light.

“You know, l/n, if you keep staring, I’ll miss my date.” Jenna teases, only making you blush and giggle, but the dimness of your car shadowed your face, making it hard for Jenna to see the blush, but what she did see was the spark in your eyes which calmed the sea of nervousness she was swimming in. Maybe you should keep staring.

As you start driving, you start fidgeting, Jenna noticed but she didn’t want to point it out, scared it’ll only push you away and make you dismissive. The tension in the car was strong, it could cut a boulder clean, and you couldn’t take that so you small talk her acting as if you were her uber driver and you don’t have a relationship with her.

“So, uh, you excited?”

“A bit, more nervous actually.”

“He should be nervous, he’s the one going on a date with THE Jenna Ortega.”

“Hmph, you flatter me.” You try. “Actually, he’s the one who has been nervous all week, he’s been asking me out every single day without fail for the past seven days.”

“And you kept rejecting him?”

“Something like that,” you also hope that the dim lights didn’t reveal your sly smirk painted on your face.

“Why did you?”

“I just wanted to see if something else would come along.”

“That is?”

“A sign.”

“A sign?”

“A sign for me to officially say no, I told him to give me a week, and on the last day, I caved and said yes.” Confusion starts to set in, you couldn’t tell if she wanted to even go on this date, you know, with the whole sign thingy, maybe she was just looking for a reason to say no but there wasn’t one conjured up in time.”

“I take it there wasn’t any?”

“Zilch. Maybe no sign meant I should say yes.”

“Unfortunate,” you mumble, maybe if a sign did show, you wouldn’t be caught in this situation.

“Indeed.” You didn’t think she heard you, but she did, unfortunately though, you didn’t hear her. “What was that?” You ask.

“Oh, nothing, just thinking out loud.”

“Right, well, we’re here, just let me park and help you out.” You park swiftly and with ease, despite needing to parallel park, with that same swiftness you hop out and open the car door for Jenna, extending your arm out for her.

“Always a gentleman.” She smiles.

“Gentlewoman,” you jokingly correct her, she lets out a small huff of laughter whilst her smile stays in place, “what’re you waiting for, Jen?”

“A sign, baby.” There it was again, baby.

“Go have fun, Jen.” You grab her hand once more and caress each knuckle.

She held her blink longer than usual, smiling as she does so, letting out a wistful sigh, and before she turns away and leaves, she tippy toes up, placing a soft, warm kiss on your cheek. Except it was so much closer to the edge of your mouth, you want to say it was a kiss?

Once you settle back into your couch, snuggle up in your fluffy blanket, you can’t wait to hear the iconic tudum ahead of every Black Mirror episode, getting lost in the new season, hoping to clear your mind of Jenna and her date, the date now an hour in.

And even though she gave you permission to watch the new season without you, there was a guilt building in you every time you considered pressing play, so you listen and decide to save season six for another time, another time where Jenna was with you, resting her head on your shoulder.

Instead, you opt to rewatch your favourite episode instead, ‘San Junipero,’ but before the first interaction of the episode could start, you hear your doorbell ring, you pause the episode and go check it out.

Looking through your ring camera app, you see Jenna? You open the door in confusion and map the brunette up and down, making sure you weren’t hallucinating, you see her smiling softly at you holding a pizza box in her hand.

“Hi.” She smiles, only making you even more confused.

“Hello?” You start off, “what’re you doing here, your date?”

She breathes in deeply, hearing the oxygen enter her body, she exhales just as deeply, hearing the carbon dioxide, that was once oxygen, leave her body. “Well, I was on a date, enjoying delicious food, with a very cute and funny boy in front of me,” your heart drops, “but.” Your heart raises, and so does one of your eyebrows.

“But?”

“He wasn’t the one I wanted to be with, he’s great and all but he doesn’t occupy my heart, he’s just a friend, I explained it to him, and he was very sweet about it, he understood, actually he was the one who dropped me off here.”

“Well, who does occupy your heart?” Your naïve and oblivious self asks. Only making Jenna’s facial expression form a horror as a result of you not being able to connect the dots.

“YOU. YOU DO, Y/N, I love you.” You freeze, “you’re the one I want to be with, I love more than you could ever imagine.” And before you could react, you feel her lips on yours, like it was coming home, except this time, it was here to stay, and they were speaking the truth, no lies, no acting, no cut, just the truth.

“But the sign?” You break away.

“The sign was you, you idiot, I wanted to see if a miracle would happen, and you would ask me out.”

“OHHHHH.” Realisation hits you like a truck, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am.” You pull her waist in, essentially pulling her inside your house, greeting her lips once more as she places the pizza on your table, dancing in motion together as if the two of you were among the stars.

“And before you try anything funny,” she pulls away, making you whimper a bit, “there’s twelve slices of pizza, six each so we both get a last slice.”

You smile, making you’re the corner of your lips connect to your eyes, essentially closing your eyes as a reaction.

“Last slice.”

a/n: j! try to write at a normal time and fix your sleep schedule challenge <3 (it’s 6am)

taglist: @talialeih (uber eats me a pizza please, love.)

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday adams x reader #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader fluff #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x female reader

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redrose10 · 5 months

Text

Here is Chapter 6! Things are getting heated between the two. I appreciate the feedback and I hope you’re enjoying the story!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 4,322

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

After what seemed like forever you and Jimin were having a day together at his place. He put out a spread of various foods and drinks while the two of you talked and caught up with each other.

“How have things been between you and Yoongi?”

“Slightly better I guess. We have meals together sometimes and we talk a little more.”

“He doesn’t shut up about you at work.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked taking a bite of your dumpling.

Jimin giggled, “I don’t know, he’s just always asking about you. Like how you’re doing or if you mentioned anything about him. It’s kind of cute. Like a teenager with a crush.”

“I mean we live together and we’re already married. Why doesn’t he just ask me himself?”

“I don’t know. Yoongi’s always been kind of weird that way.”

“Oh yeah I completely forgot to tell you that he was livid last night about you introducing me to Taehyung. Said he was going to kill you and then fire you. I still don’t know why he got so upset about the whole thing.”

“Well because Taehyung is extremely handsome and also very straight forwardly friendly and kind. He’s a lot of what Yoongi isn’t and Yoongi knows that. I think he was a little worried you’d run off because he knows he wouldn’t stand a chance if Taehyung made a move on you.”

His words caused you to stop and think for a moment. Yoongi jealous? “I mean why would he care so much? I feel like he’s been trying to get rid of me since day one so Taehyung would just be doing him a favor.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s starting to come around a little. Maybe you’re slowly melting away at his ice cold heart.”

You remembered what Seokjin had told you about Yoongi coming around eventually.

“Yeah well tell that to all the women he already cheated on me with. I’m sure that’s still going on somehow.”

“Trust me I know. I’ve had many words with him about that. Now as far as I know he hasn’t been with any women in a couple months. He even transferred out one of his favorite interns because she wasn’t taking no for an answer and kept coming on to him.”

The laugh that you let out bellowed through the room, “Yeah okay. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

After finishing up all the food that was left and helping him clean up you said goodbye to Jimin and headed home. You felt better, lighter even, after spending the day with him. It was definitely something you needed. Getting home you were surprised to find Yoongi sitting on the couch watching a basketball game. He was dressed comfortably in sweats and a tshirt. It was off as you’ve alway seen him in expensive suits. Even his casual wear was usually still designer and well styled. You’ve never seen him look so plain before but he looked happier somehow.

When he noticed you he smiled and told you there was some takeout in the fridge that he had ordered for you just in case you were hungry.

You thanked him and headed off to your room wanting to take a hot shower and get ready for bed as you weren’t really hungry after eating at Jimins all day.

Just as you were about to get under the covers a soft knock appeared at your door. Yoongi was standing there holding a mug which he quickly handed over to you and you smiled at the warm milk staring back at you. You had a feeling that he wanted something more than to just bring you a glass of milk at 11pm.

Your instincts were right because he began to nervously scratched at the side of his neck, “So Y/N our first anniversary is coming up and I was wondering if maybe you would like to go on a trip with me. To celebrate. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’d fully understand. I just thought maybe we could go somewhere or I don’t know. Again it’s okay if you don’t want to go. I haven’t planned anything yet. I just thought I’d ask to see what you’d say. It’s probably a dumb idea.”

At this point he was rambling so fast you could barely make out what he was saying. Maybe it was the fact that you were so tired or that you were still on a high from the great day you had with Jimin but you agreed. “Sure Yoongi. I’ll go with you. Sounds nice.”

You could see the tension leave his body as well as the surprised look on his face showing that he fully expected you to decline his offer. “Okay, I’ll let you know the details once I have them figured out.”

Nodding you shut the door and climbed in bed with your mind racing. Another week stuck on vacation with Yoongi. Something you had hoped you’d never have to go through again.

A few days went by and one day during dinner Yoongi had told you that the anniversary trip was going to be a surprise. All you needed to know was to pack comfy clothes and that he’d handle the rest.

Two weeks later you were in the passenger seat as Yoongi drove the two of you to your destination. While surprised that this trip didn’t involve a plane you were also excited as this meant you werent going to have to suffer in tropical hell again.

After a four hour car ride you pulled up in front of a large cabin.

“I know it’s not the Alps but I thought it would be nice to go somewhere more low key and quiet. I wanted a redo of our honeymoon since I had purposely picked somewhere I knew you’d hate.”

“I knew you did that on purpose.”, you smirked.

Yoongi opened the front door for you with the code he was given while he went back to the car to grab the bags. The cabin was what you’d always dreamed about. There was a large fireplace with a stack of wood ready to be burned sitting next to it. A big comfy couch adorned with fluffy blankets and pillows sat in front. The kitchen was massive and to your surprise already fully stocked with food. Making your way upstairs to the master bedroom you were excited to see a balcony.

Stepping out you were greeted with the most breath taking view you’d ever seen. Snow covered mountains were framed by tall and full pine trees. Off in the distance a family of deer ran through the snow. You felt like you were looking at a Christmas card. It was quiet and peaceful and everything you could hope for.

While taking in the beauty you didn’t notice Yoongi step out onto the balcony behind you. He startled you as he spoke, “Do you like it?” “Yeah it’s incredible.”, you smiled. It didn’t take long for him to violently start shivering which got a big laugh out of you even though he tried his best to hide it.

“Come on you big baby. Let’s go back inside.”

Once back in the warmth of the cabin Yoongi told you to take a shower or a nap or whatever you wanted and he’d start on dinner.

You opted for a nice hot bath letting the water soothe you. The lavender oil provided by the host adding a nice comforting touch. When you were cleaned and changed into some comfy clothes you went down to the bottom level finding that Yoongi had built a fire and was just putting the finishing touches on the meal.

You both ate quietly before you grabbed a blanket and went to the couch to watch a movie while he cleaned up before joining you. There was an awkward feeling in you. Even though the two of you were married you’d never really spent quality time like this together. You weren’t sure if you should sit right next to him or maybe on the other side of the couch but is that too awkward? Should you share a blanket or get him his own? Let him pick the movie or should you? You felt kind of ridiculous because it shouldn’t be so hard to watch a movie with your husband but at the same time it’s Yoongi.

You wrapped yourself up in the fluffy green blanket and decided to just take a seat on the right side of the couch and let him make the next move. Yoongi walked in a few minutes later handing you a mug of warm milk before taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

“I already chose a movie. I hope that’s okay. It’s one I’ve been wanting to see for a while.”, he said.

“Yeah sure that’s fine.”, you shrugged secretly happy that you wouldn’t have to awkwardly try to pick something together.

After he clicked play you chuckled when you heard the familiar music.

“Seriously Harry Potter?”, you asked.

“Yeah I’ve never seen it before and I’ve been told I resemble one of the characters so I thought we’d check it out.”

Snuggling in deeper to your blanket you smiled and began to watch as the movie unfolded.

The two of you made it through the first movie and decided to also get through the second when about half way through you felt a sudden chill. Since you’d planned to go to bed after this movie you stopped adding wood to the fire and it was noticeably colder in the room. Looking over you noticed the goosebumps climbing up Yoongi’s arm and you realized he was without a blanket.

Knowing that you were probably going to regret it later you scooted over so you were sitting closer to him. Not touching but close enough that you could share your blanket so you reached over and placed half on his lap.

“Here you look cold.”

“Thank you.”, he said with a smile and pulled the blanket up to cover himself.

Once the movie was over and after a passionate review on his part you made your way upstairs when the realization hit you. This cabin only had one bed. Yoongi who was not far behind you stopped when he noticed you standing there.

“Oh um how are we going to sleep tonight? I mean with only one bed?”, you asked.

“Well I thought we could share the bed together. Sorry I guess I should’ve asked you first. I can sleep down on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

For a second you really did consider making him sleep on the couch but ultimately decided that the bed was big enough for the two of you to comfortably share.

After completing your nightly routines you got in bed leaving a healthy space between the two of you. Both on your backs staring up at ceiling in silence until Yoongi spoke.

“Red”

You looked over at him with furrowed brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

Not removing his eyes from the spot on the ceiling he continued, “My favorite color is red. When we first went on a date you asked me and I made a sarcastic remark instead of telling you so I’m telling you now.”

You hummed.

“I also do really like to drink whiskey but if I had to choose I would never pass up a glass of ice cold chocolate milk.”

You snorted and he laughed, “You have no room to make fun of me Miss Mug of Warm Milk Before Bed.”

“I love basketball and music. Those are my interests. Growing up I wanted to be a music producer maybe even a rapper but my parents put a stop to that and made sure I would be set up to take over the company instead. Sometimes I regret that I let them stop me. Maybe I’d be a happier person if I went against their wishes.”

“I think you’re pretty good at what you do though. I mean you seem successful. But you should definitely rap for me one day. I’d pay to hear that.”

“I don’t think you could handle my lyrics.”, he said causing you both to erupt into laughter.

After a while of silence he continued, “Y/N I want to apologize for the way I treated you this first year. I know these are just words and you’re going to need a lot more than that from me but I’m going to do my best.”

“I heard from Jimin that you haven’t been hooking up with other women any more. Is that true?”

“Mmhm yeah it is. I haven’t been with anyone in a couple months.”

“Can I ask you another question?”, you asked.

“Go for it.”

“Why were you so determined to make this marriage miserable?”

He let go of a long sigh, “Well it’s kind of a long story. But uh when I was sixteen I met this girl, Mia. After a few months I finally worked up the courage to ask her out and she said yes. We dated for a while and when we were nineteen I wanted to propose. We were young but I knew I loved her more than anything in this world and I wanted to spend my life with her because there’d never be anyone else that I could possibly love that much. She was my everything. So I had this big elaborate proposal planned. She thought I was out of town on a business trip but I had lied about that and I left her a note in our apartment telling her to meet me on the rooftop of our building and I had the whole area decorated with roses and there was a dinner planned and I had a piano set up to play her a song that I wrote and then I’d get down on one knee. But after she was like 45 minutes late I went down to the apartment to see what was going on and she didn’t even read the note because she was too busy fucking some guy in our bed. Then she confessed that she’d been cheating on me the entire relationship and was only with me for the money and perks of my family. So after that I swore I’d never love anyone ever again. If I don’t love anyone then they can’t possibly hurt me like that. So after I met you I wanted you to hate me and treat me like you hated me because then I’d never fall for you but no matter what I did you’d still always be kind and be there waiting for me and putting in effort to make this work. I found myself starting to realize that maybe not everyone is out to just use me and that someone could actually love me.”

You sat in silence trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry Yoongi. That did sound like a really nice proposal though. A lot better than here’s this contract, sign on the dotted line like mine.”

He chucked, “Nah looking back it was pretty cheesy anyways. Maybe one day I’ll give you the proposal you deserve.”

“Okay but I want a song. And there better be a rap verse.”

“Deal. Any thing for you.”

The room fell into a silence after that.

“Anything you’d like to ask me?”, you questioned with a smile wanting to change the subject.

“Nope” he said but thankfully you could hear the playful smile in his voice.

“What is your family like?

You knew he was trying to ask about the orphanage thing without directly bringing it up so you decided to just spill it.

“Umm well my parents were great from what I remember. They were killed in a car accident when I was around five. Then I lived with my Aunt Erica until I was eight when she passed away from cancer. No one else in my family was willing or able to take me in so I was sent to live in an orphanage which is where I stayed until I turned eighteen. Then I met Jimin in college and we became really good friends. When he moved away I was pretty much on my own until I came here. So I guess we’re both just a couple broken hearted people, just in different ways.”

He didn’t respond right away and you weren’t sure if maybe you said too much until he spoke again.

“I’m really sorry Y/N. No one should have to go through something like that. I wish I could take away that pain.”

“It’s alright. Nothing can change it now.”

The two of you talked for a little while longer until finally falling asleep feeling a little closer.

The following day Yoongi took you sightseeing through the little mountain town. You ate lunch at a very cute cafe owned by the sweetest elderly woman who recognized Yoongi and kept gushing about how out of all the places to eat he chose her cafe. She even made him take a photo with her to hang on the wall. The woman wrapped her arms around his mid section clinging to him for dear life while completing how toned he felt which caused Yoongi to turn a shade of red you didn’t think was possible for a person. You got a good kick out of it at least.

After getting back to the cabin you changed out of your snow soaked clothes and agreed to continue watching the next Harry Potter film as a continuation of the night before. This time though without thinking you sat down next to Yoongi and immediately covered both of you with the blanket before grabbing the tray of cookies and various pastries he had bought at the cafe earlier. He gave you a smile before taking one of the cookies in his mouth.

You guys got through two more movies before deciding to call it a night and getting into bed.

When you fell asleep you were on opposite sides of the bed. So you were extremely confused when you woke up a couple hours later and Yoongi was now spooning you while holding you as close against him as you could get. His arms tightly wrapped around your waist as his breath tickled the back of your neck.

Part of you wanted to scramble out of the bed and get as far away from him as you could but another part of you was really enjoying the warmth and comfort of being in his arms.

You tried to distance yourself and push away from him a little but his arms only snaked around you tighter pulling you back.

In your attempt to push away you may have accidentally stirred something in him. Slowly he began placing kisses along the back of your neck and down your shoulder. His hand running down the side of your hip before his fingers began dancing on your thighs. Your body seemed to melt into him.

“Yoongi”, you whispered trying to get a better grasp of what his intentions were. Maybe he was just dreaming you thought. He placed another two kisses to the back of your neck, “Is this okay? I’ll stop if you want.” You really thought about it. Your heart was telling you no but your brain and the rest of your body was saying yes. “You really haven’t slept with anyone else in the last couple months?”, you questioned. “I swear on everything.”, he answered.

Turning over to face him you suddenly felt an extreme wave of nervousness come over you.

“We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable Y/N.”

You nodded, “I want to.”

He kissed your lips before adjusting himself to be on top of you. He began placing kisses along your neck past your collarbone. His hands reaching for the hem of your night shirt lightly gripping the edge. “Can I?”, he asked. You nodded slightly sitting up so he could pull the shirt off you.

“You really are beautiful Y/N.”, he said as his hands traced over your body.

As the kisses between you became more and more intense and his hands seemed to have more courage you felt him begin push himself against you and any apprehension you had went away. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this and you wanted him bad.

The rest of your clothes were removed as were his and your bodies reconnected like a magnet had pulled you two together. Whether it was the fact that it had been so long for you or the way that he took his time making sure to pleasure every inch of your body, it was the best and also most intense experience you had ever had.

Afterwards he pulled you close against him while you both tried to slow down your rapid breathing. He placed another kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. Just before he fell asleep you heard the faintest whisper, “I love you Y/N.”

After that you had a hard time falling asleep. Things in your relationship were moving a little too fast for your liking. This is what you had always hoped for and what you had always wanted but after everything that had happened with him you knew you would have to move forward carefully.

Having fallen asleep at some point you were woken up when Yoongi began moving and got out of the bed making his way to bathroom. A few minutes later the shower kicked on so you sat up stretching in the bed to wait your turn.

The nightstand next to you kept vibrating and you saw Yoongi’s phone laying face down.

Every few seconds

*Buzz*

You started to get annoyed but then you worried that something may be wrong. You grabbed his phone preparing to knock on the bathroom door when you happened to glance at the phone screen. There were several texts and missed calls nothing that concerned you as he was a busy guy after all. Until something red caught your eye. A text from someone name Suri. In the text a photo of a woman dressed in a barely there red lace lingerie set. You thought back to Yoongi telling you his favorite color was red. The text included with the photo is what caused the room to spin around you.

“Last week was amazing. Can’t wait to see you again. I went out and got a new outfit for you and in red just like you like it. Maybe don’t rip this one. ♥️😘”

After tossing the phone onto the bed you grabbed your suitcase and started throwing all of your belongings into it. You felt sick. You felt like crying. You felt like throwing something. He lied to you. He lied to you before, during, and after.

Yoongi unknowing of the events that just transpired came walking out of the bathroom towel drying his hair. “Y/N I think we should go back to that cafe for breakfast, they had a croissant sandwich I think you’ll really like, and then maybe walk down to that lake it looked really nic-.” He stopped when he saw you stuffing your bag.

“What are you doing?”

You looked up at him with a tear stained face.

“Y/N what happened? Did someone do something to you?”

“Yeah Yoongi, You!! I can’t believe you. What kind of sick game are you playing? Just when I thought you were changing for the better. That maybe deep down you were a good person and not a self centered jerk.”

“Y/N what’s going on? I don’t understand what happened?”

“Oh cut the bullshit Yoongi. You know if you wanted to just use me for sex we could’ve stayed at home and hate fucked each other or something. You didn’t have to bring me out here and make me think you were actually falling in love with me.”

“Y/N I do love you and I have been trying to change. I’m trying to show you that.”

“Fuck you Yoongi. I’m not doing this any more. Next time you need someone to stick your dick into go ahead and call Suri. It looks like she’s replaced the lingerie set that you ripped LAST WEEK! It’s a cute one too. I was even thinking about getting something similar last night but now at least I don’t have to waste money on it.”

Yoongi took a step forward to try and reach out to you but you put your hands up to separate yourself.

“Y/N nothing happened with her. I swear. I know it looks back but let me explain.”

“Save it.”

Before you grabbed the door handle you stopped and turned to face him, “You know I actually felt really bad for you after you told me about Mia and what she did to you. I understood how you could be the way that you are and I was 100% committed to trying to forgive you and move on with a loving happy marriage. But now, I don’t know if I can ever truly love you Yoongi.”

You slammed the door behind you and stormed out of the house. Thankfully the bus station wasn’t too far of a walk and the cold air gave you a chance to calm down anyways and also have an excuse as to why your face was so red. After buying a ticket you took a seat on a bench near the window to wait for your bus. You really wished you would’ve taken a shower before storming out of the cabin. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla heavily staining your skin, a painful reminder of your mistake from the night before.

#yoongi fanfic #bts #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #min yoongi #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #cinnamon&vanilla #arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #yoongi au #bts x reader #bts yoongi

325 notes · View notes

ginnsbaker · 11 months

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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (16/22)

Chapter summary: You go through a difficult period following your breakup with Yelena, and you and Wanda end up falling down the rabbit hole for the second time around

Chapter word count: 6.4K | Warnings: Angst, Mild smut | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Before you say anything, I have a plan. Enjoy :) P.S. My requests are open

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Seventeen Part One

Sixteen

“And then she kissed you?” Agatha asks. She looks the same way she does when she’s actively participating in gossip, hanging onto every detail of the latest scandal that keeps most people entertained in their insignificant lives.

Wanda solemnly nods, as if validating a piece of tragic news.

“Why aren't you thrilled?” Agatha observes quietly, picking at her tooth with her fingernail. “I mean, doesn't that confirm that she still has feelings for you?”

“You remember what happened last time, right? When she did more than just kiss me?”

Agatha grimaces, “Right, of all places, in our stockroom." Then, her tone morphs into a more probing one, “But, did the kiss feel as if she just wanted to get into your pants?”

Wanda lets out a sigh, her heartbeat quickening as she reminisces about its tenderness. It felt akin to a first kiss—vulnerable, slightly apprehensive, tinged with anxiety, and yet, at the same time familiar—like finding her way back home.

It was perfect in every sense.

But it was tainted by its very nature. It was a betrayal. And if there were truly raw feelings behind it, then it’s worse—it would mean that you have been emotionally unfaithful to Yelena.

Wanda may have ruined yet another relationship.

In the midst of her internal struggle, she finally manages to answer Agatha, “It felt like hope,” giving voice to her undeniable feelings for you. “But she’s with Yelena.”

“I never really had faith in that relationship to begin with,” Agatha retorts dismissively, cleaning her hands with a towel before reaching for one of the cookies on display.

“That's a terrible thing to say,” Wanda chides.

“I’m only being honest,” Agatha says, unapologetic in her bluntness. “You were fucking each other like rabbits and then a few weeks later, she gets a girlfriend. That's a classic rebound scenario. I'm surprised the woman she's with allowed herself to be used like that.”

Wanda finds Agatha’s uninhibited words a little offensive, though she understands that their deepening friendship has allowed for such unfiltered honesty between them. Even though she's jealous of Yelena, Wanda understands that she is good for you. She doesn't like how Agatha talks about Yelena as if she's too naive to try a relationship with you.

Wanda feels she can relate with Yelena. Often, love makes us scared that we might never get a second chance, so we choose to take a leap of faith, despite the warning signs.

“So, what are you planning to do about it?” Agatha asks, taking a bite of her favorite cookie. Wanda makes a mental note to deduct that cookie from the stock count.

Wanda shakes her head, replying, “Nothing,”

Agatha pauses mid-chew, her eyes wide with shock. Wanda can't help but observe the crumbs of food lodged in her teeth. “You're not going to seize this opportunity?” Agatha questions, disbelief coating her voice.

“Y/N needs to sort things out,” Wanda lets out a heavy sigh. “Without my interference.”

“You’re not afraid of missing out on this chance?”

Wanda sidesteps Agatha's question with one of her own. “Why are you suddenly supportive? It wasn’t long ago when you couldn't stand her.”

“I’m supportive of you. I’m rooting for your happiness, dear. But I’ve seen you at your worst, and I think you’re putting on a brave face right now.”

Wanda's eyes dip down. Her friend isn’t entirely wrong.

“What happens if she decides to stay with Yelena?” Agatha probes further.

Wanda's response isn't immediate; she takes a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before replying softly, “Then I hope she’ll be very happy with her.”

Agatha rolls her eyes, because of course, Wanda would say that. Even if you were being served to her on a silver platter, she’d worry for your happiness over her own.

“And where does that leave you?” Agatha asks, folding her arms across her chest.

Wanda lifts her shoulders in a casual shrug, her face unreadable. “Living life as it comes, I guess. Just one day at a time.”

At this, Agatha decides to drop the subject. She has a strong feeling that Wanda’s just waiting for you to come to her, and when you do, she's certain that Wanda won't maintain this pretense of indifference. As for Wanda, she doesn’t want to obsess over what you’re doing or thinking. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake of hoping for an outcome that only you can decide.

Switching topics, Agatha raises an eyebrow and asks, “And the pup? Is he doing okay?”

Wanda smiles faintly, “I brought him home yesterday.”

“Well, that's a relief,” Agatha remarks. “Do you reckon Sparky masterminded all this to get Y/N to your place at an ungodly hour? Can dogs be that crafty?”

Wanda throws her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious right now?”

A wicked giggle slips from Agatha, spreading until Wanda finds herself laughing along. She doesn't notice the arrival of a guest until the distinct sound of the call bell jars her attention.

It’s Valkyrie, casually leaning against the countertop, looking awkward and so unlike her usual self.

Agatha casts a sly glance at Peter, who's been trying to catch her eye ever since Valkyrie stepped into the cafe. When Agatha isn't around, Peter fills her in on the latest happenings, a reliable source of juicy tidbits. Peter quirks his brows and discreetly nods towards Valkyrie, his mouth miming a silent message. Reading his lips, Agatha pieces together that this is the woman who recently found herself entangled in Wanda's intricate web.

Agatha sweeps her eyes over the woman appreciatively. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Wanda rubs her palms together, a habit she’s developed before taking a customer order. “Hi, Val! What is it for today? We have new beans delivered all the way from Niseko–”

“Actually,” Valkyrie softly cuts her off. “I was hoping we could talk?”

Agatha watches their exchange, an eager twinkle in her eyes. With the pace at which interesting events are unraveling, she may as well pop a bag of microwave popcorn to truly savor the unfolding drama.

Wanda nods and moves away from the counter, temporarily handing the reins to Agatha. They pick a spot in the furthest corner from the kitchen, well out of earshot, much to Agatha's disappointment.

“First off, I owe you an apology,” Valkyrie begins. “I’d blame it on the alcohol, but there’s no excuse for me pressuring you too much to take shots. That wasn’t cool at all. You already said no several times and I ignored you.”

Wanda waves her off casually. “Oh, it's alright. I appreciate the apology, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You couldn't have forced me to drink if I really didn't want to, right?”

Valkyrie's frown dips further at Wanda's easy dismissal of the issue. “No, Wanda. If I'd kept on, I might've pushed you into it even if you didn't want to. I'm just glad Y/N stepped in when she did.”

Something flashes in Wanda’s eyes at the mention of your name. Valkyrie catches it but opts to ignore it for the meantime.

“Yeah, I did feel a bit cornered that night,” Wanda concedes, a smile returning to her face. “But it's water under the bridge now. Was there something else you needed to discuss?”

“You sure don't beat around the bush, do you?” Valkyrie attempts to lighten the mood, but her tension is evident in her shaky voice and the way her fingers fiddle with her watch.

Wanda chuckles. “It's a skill I've been honing lately.”

Taking a deep, measured breath, Valkyrie gathers her courage. "Alright, here it is..."

Wanda tilts her head at her curiously, wondering what it’s about.

“I like you,” Valkyrie blurts out. “I don’t normally confess to someone I’m not even dating, but you’re… incredible. That's how I feel about you and I thought you should know."

“Oh! Uh…” Wanda trails off, blushing at Valkyrie’s confession.

Valkyrie nibbles at her lip, observing as Wanda fumbles to put her thoughts into words. She silently hopes she's left Wanda speechless in a good way.

“There’s… someone,” Wanda manages to utter out eventually. “I've been in love with her for the better part of my life.” Or maybe her whole life, if she’s being brutally honest.

Valkyrie nods, her throat tightening to hold back the sting of rejection. “It's her, isn't it?” she ventures, silently alluding to you.

Wanda diverts her gaze and emits a modest laugh. She must have made her feelings too obvious for anyone to see.

“She’s my ex-wife,” is all the explanation Wanda offers.

“Wow,” Valkyrie looks taken aback by the revelation. “That sounds messy.”

“It's beyond messy,” Wanda retorts.

“Go on,” Valkyrie encourages.

Wanda looks at her, thoughtful. “Are you sure you want to delve into my past? It might take some time.”

Valkyrie smiles, already leaning in closer to signify that she’s all ears. “I made time this morning specifically to talk to you. I want to understand, at least, why I'm being rejected.”

Wanda chuckles softly at the gesture. Collecting her thoughts, she starts to narrate a condensed version of the turbulent history she's had, of how she ruined everything that’s good in her life.

When Wanda wraps up her story, Valkyrie simply says, "Wow, that's... pretty fucking messed up."

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Wanda admits, biting her lower lip, anxiety swirling in her gaze. She worries that revealing her darkest past may have cost her a budding friendship. “I think I saw your interest, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions and have the wrong idea. I just wanted us to be friends. I still do, if that's okay with you.”

“Of course, I want to be friends with you, Wanda. More than the fact that you’re hot, we have a lot in common too.”

Wanda's cheeks tinge a soft pink at Valkyrie's flippant comment about her being ‘hot’.

“So, friends then?” Valkyrie extends her hand.

Wanda smiles in relief. “Friends.”

***

A phone call rouses you from sleep. You groggily glance at the clock and realize you've overslept.

“It’s done,” your lawyer's voice cuts through the grogginess as soon as you pick up the call.

Disoriented, you squint against the daylight streaming in through the window. “What are you referring to?” you inquire, your voice hoarse from sleep.

“Vision has settled,” she elaborates, her words crisp and distinct. “And he caught a flight to Tokyo last night.”

“He's gone?”

“From what I've heard, he intended to use the settlement money to finance his studies overseas. He won't be returning in the near future. But even if he does decide to cut his trip short, you're safe. He has no legal means to trouble you anymore,” she assures you.

“You've got snitches now?” you quip, your eyes narrowing in suspicion even as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth.

Her laughter rings out through the phone, followed by a breezy, “You're welcome,” before she ends the call.

It's over. A chapter of your past has finally closed. Vision has physically left the city, and you've literally paid your dues. You hadn't realized you were in a kind of self-imposed cage until now, when a sense of liberation pulses through your veins.

Before you can fully indulge in the relief provided by your lawyer's news, however, a persistent knock at your door breaks your reverie. You can't help but wonder who it could be, and how they bypassed the building's security without a notification from the concierge.

As you pull the door open, you find yourself face to face with the last person you expected to see.

“Nat?”

She appears ready to tear you apart. For a moment, the thought crosses your mind, 'this is it, this is how I go, at the hands of my best friend'. Strangely, you're indifferent to whatever she might inflict on you. Having her here at least affords you an opportunity to have a conversation.

Yet, Natasha doesn't respond. She doesn't even spare you a glance. Instead, she brushes past you and starts gathering random items into a large duffel bag she brought along.

“Nat, can you please just talk to me?”

“What for, Y/N? I have nothing to say to you.”

“Yelena broke up with me,” you say.

Natasha scoffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“Nat, please,” you plead. “You can’t just cut me out forever. I’m your best–”

“Are you?!” The outburst that tears from her is enough to make you recoil. “Are you my friend, Y/N? I woke up to my sister on my doorstep, in shambles. All thanks to my ‘friend’.”

You wrap your arms around yourself as tremors course through your body. Tears start to flow down your cheeks at the mere mention of Yelena.

“You want to talk? Fine, I’ll talk,” Natasha rages on. “I stood by you through thick and thin. I held your hand through all the shit you went through last year. I brought you into my home. I took care of you. I loved you–” Natasha's voice catches on 'loved', and your heart shatters at her use of the past tense.

“–and you just betrayed me, like I meant nothing. You betrayed my sister like she meant nothing. We both cared about you, Y/N.” Her voice dwindles near the end, her next words coming out just above a whisper. “So, no, we’re not friends. Not anymore.”

“Nat, I’m s–”

“You know what? I can’t fucking do this. I’m just gonna send someone to collect Yelena's things. If I don’t, just throw out her stuff like you did with your relationship. Goodbye, Y/N.”

The door slams shut behind her. You find yourself on the floor, curled into a ball, as you grieve the friendship you’ve known all your life.

***

Dark screens and unreturned messages follow.

Yelena has blocked you on every possible platform, cutting off any form of communication. Natasha hasn't, but she leaves all your messages unread, allowing your calls to go unanswered, seemingly enjoying your desperation. Clint ignores your texts, and Kate only responded once, promising to try and speak to Yelena for you. That was a week ago, and there's been no word since. You didn't think you'd be back in the dark place you were in a year ago, and the worst part is, you brought it on yourself this time.

The only news you get about Yelena is from your own mother. A few days after Yelena left your shared apartment, your mother called to ask what had happened. Apparently, Yelena had told her the news herself and asked her to take care of you and make sure you were alright. Throughout the call, you cried silently, feeling the remnants of Yelena's care for you even after you broke her heart.

And your mother, perennially at odds with handling emotions, simply offered her condolences. Although by doing so, she offered more support than she did when you were weathering your divorce from Wanda the year before. With your latest tragedy out of the way, she proceeded to ask if you could make time to visit Montauk over the holidays.

***

Drinking is… a problem. Again.

But you approach it with more caution this time. You don’t drink as much at home so you can avoid not showing up at work the next day. Rather, you sneak in a flask in the office, sipping from it from time to time to keep you the right amount of…adrift. You’re too good with numbers that even with a little haze in your head, the alcohol doesn’t interfere with your work.

It interferes with other thoughts.

***

When Kate finally calls you, you’re in the middle of a disastrous presentation at work. Her words had been brief, only giving you the time (three in the afternoon) and location (The New York Public Library) where she wanted to meet.

It takes some time for you to locate Kate within the vast elegance of the Rose Main Reading Room. She's tucked away in the northeast corner, engrossed in her work, even on a Sunday. A towering pile of books rises to her eye level on her desk.

“I can’t believe I was wrong about you.” Kate says without looking up as you settle on the vacant seat next to her.

“Wrong about me?” you ask, keeping your voice in a hushed tone.

“I had this fleeting thought that you might actually be a good person.” she says.

Swallowing hard, you struggle to find a response, well aware that Kate is just laying out the facts. What kind of person would cheat on their best friend's sister? What kind of person would throw away years of trust and a lifelong friendship?

“She told you?” you finally manage to ask.

“Yelena didn’t say much,” Kate says with a hint of sorrow. “But I've never seen her look so…” she trails off, struggling to find the right words, and eventually concludes, “She doesn't look like the Yelena I know.”

You’re afraid to ask what she means by that. You haven’t looked in the mirror yourself, in fear of seeing the results of your own wreckage.

“She quit today, you know?” Kate reveals, setting down her pen to give you her full attention. You don't see resentment in her eyes, only caution. This is the most compassion you've been shown since your relationship with Yelena fell apart.

The news of Yelena's resignation hits you like a punch to the gut. She had a promising career ahead of her, and she'd found a supportive environment in her workplace. It's hard to believe she'd just abandon that so abruptly. You feel a wave of nausea at the thought.

“I sort of saw it coming,” Kate adds. “Not her resignation–God, I tried my best to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge. I… I saw you running back to Wanda.”

Your eyes narrow curiously as you regard Kate. “How?”

Kate sighs, pushing a pile of papers to the side to give you her full attention. “It's not a secret, you know. You might think you're being discreet, but you’re more transparent than you'd like to believe. You’re a completely different person when she’s around. I saw it during the 6-miler event we all joined by chance.”

There’s no point in denying any of that. The weeks that follow after that, you were crying to your mother regarding your conflicted feelings about Wanda. But if you had been aware of the signs as early as then, would things be different somehow?

“I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Kate,” you say, the words sounding weak and inadequate to your own ears.

“I know,” Kate says quietly, and there's a touch of sympathy in her eyes that makes you feel even worse. “But that doesn't change the fact that it did happen. And people are getting hurt because of it.”

You can sense that Kate is one of those people–by hurting Yelena, the girl she clearly loves.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you whisper. You wish there was another way to convey how sorry you are–a keyword to make it all go away.

“Yeah, me too. Mostly because I have to tell you that we can no longer be friends.” Kate says, looking genuinely upset about her decision, her gaze dropping to her hands as she twirls the pen between her fingers.

“I know,” you nod, appreciating her honesty. “Thank you.”

“Look, I have no idea how deep your thing with Wanda goes. All I know is you can’t keep running away. You can’t keep hiding behind the comfort of other people.”

You bob your head in acknowledgment, even though you're uncertain how to put her words into practice.

"Can you pass on a message to Yelena for me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously.

Kate lets out a sigh, her fingers halting their movement on the pen. “I’ll try. No promises though.”

“Could you tell her that I'm sorry...that I truly loved her?”

A moment of silence follows your request as Kate studies you, her lips pursed. It might seem hypocritical of you to make such a claim, but she refrains from passing judgment. But seeing your bloodshot eyes and your pale chapped lips and the lack of life in you, she thinks there’s probably some truth to it.

***

It takes you an additional week before you summon the courage to visit Wanda's apartment.

Truth be told, you've been hiding away in shame, confining yourself to either your bedroom or your office, instructing your assistant to keep the door closed and not to disturb you, secluding yourself from the outside world. Aside from interactions at your work, you haven’t talked to anyone.

A moment of misjudgment led you to lose everything that you were left with when you lost Wanda. But gradually, even as you were beating yourself up over and over again with the dissolution of your relationship with both Romanovs, Wanda became the only one you can think about. You can't escape her pull, no matter how hard you try.

Eventually, you devolve into nothing more than a compulsion; a compelling need to see Wanda. Which is what brings you here, with your fist poised to knock on the door. But just before your knuckles make contact with the wooden panel, the door swings open, and Wanda's voice unthinkingly spills into the hallway where you stand.

“–let me ask if the neighbor has some sugar–” Wanda halts dead in her tracks as she comes face to face with you.

The timid smile on your face drops as soon as you realize she's not alone. Behind her, comfortably perched on the couch is Valkyrie.

“Seems like you're already entertained. I'll head out,” Valkyrie proposes, getting up on her feet. “I'll pick up my shirt when you come around for the run next week, sound good?”

Wanda nods in a daze to that, her eyes never leaving you.

"No, I should leave," you counter weakly.

“No, Y/N, please stay,” Wanda implores. “See you later, Val. Thanks for the shoes.”

You stiffen and step aside as Valkyrie moves to gather her belongings. When she finally approaches the door, standing next to you, she tilts her head to murmur a parting sentiment intended for your ears only.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I had a spill on my shirt. Don't let her down this time,” she whispers.

Her words stun you into silence long after she's left.

“Y/N? Please, come in,” Wanda invites you, her voice trembling slightly. Nodding silently, you step inside.

You regard each other quietly, simply observing one another for what feels like an eternity. This isn’t how you imagined things would go when you thought about coming here this morning. You wanted to see Wanda because you needed to be with her. But now, all you can think about is Wanda and Valkyrie being all over each other.

“It’s been awhile,” Wanda offers, not really sure how to begin as you stay awkwardly near the door–as if you’re strategically placing yourself there in case you decide you want to run. She studies you, attempting to read your expression, to figure out what this could be about. She’s been thinking about the thumb drive that contained the video of her and Vision. Did you finally see it? Did you decide to pay him off?

Or is this about Yelena? Wanda’s been thinking if you came clean to your girlfriend about the kiss, wondering if you've managed to patch things up, and if Yelena has forgiven you.

If you’ve chosen to be with Yelena after all.

“Yeah, Valkyrie was here pretty early, wasn't she?” you state more than ask, a hint of bitterness edging your words. You glance at your watch, adding, “At 6:30 in the morning, no less.”

Wanda furrows her brows at your tone, as though she's on the receiving end of an unfounded accusation.

“She was on her morning run, dropped by to hand over a pair of shoes from her club's sponsor. Nothing more,” she explains.

You snort, "Sounds awfully convenient."

Rather than entertain your skepticism further, Wanda redirects the conversation elsewhere. What you presume about her and Valkyrie is the last of her worries right now.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” Wanda asks, her voice a little unsure. When your eyes meet hers, Wanda sees the signs of sleepless nights and a certain emptiness that paints a clear picture.

You and Yelena are done.

And it's breaking you. Her heart aches, even knowing that you're now, technically, available. She never wanted this for you. And she can't help but feel that she messed up your happiness once again.

“I just... I needed to see you,” you admit with a half-hearted shrug. “Looks like you didn't waste any time though.”

“Valkyrie and I are just friends,” Wanda insists, the edge of her patience beginning to fray.

“You seriously think I'll believe that?” you shoot back.

Wanda heaves a sigh, exasperation seeping into her tone. “Believe whatever you want, Y/N. Doesn't change the truth.”

“She was wearing your shirt.” you highlight, not quite ready to drop the issue.

“She spilled coffee on herself. I gave her a clean one. That's it.”

“And I'm supposed to accept that at face value?” you challenge, an eyebrow arched skeptically in her direction.

“Yes, you are!” Wanda says firmly. “Because it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you.”

I wouldn't lie to you. Her words reverberate within your skull, playing on repeat like a broken record.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? You're not sure whether you can still believe her.

“Y/N, please,” Wanda's plea rings out, sounding lost and desperate. She isn't even certain what she's asking for. What she does know is that you're teetering on the edge of a breakdown, still reeling from the pain of your breakup.

You don’t look like you’re in the right mindset to talk about what you’re going through. About how you both left things. And as much as Wanda wants to figure this out with you, she can’t do anything if you’re not willing to trust her.

“Wouldn’t lie to me?” you repeat, your voice laced with sarcasm and a painful sort of humor. “Alright, let's put that to the test, shall we?”

Wanda's throat tightens. She's unsure where you're heading with this.

“Yelena and I broke up. She left me that same morning,” you start off casually, as if discussing the weather. “Because she deserved better. Because I am, as it turns out, selfish and deceitful, right?”

“No–”

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Wanda's mouth snaps shut at your words, a sense of finality creeping into her. “...yes,” she admits quietly.

Slowly, you advance towards Wanda, your steps intentional and calculated. She remains rooted in her spot, refusing to back down.

“Do you feel happy that Yelena and I have broken up?” you ask.

Wanda looks hurt by your question. "Y/N, no, of course not–”

Your stoic expression tells her you're not buying it.

“Do you regret our kiss?” you probe, stepping closer, until Wanda finds herself backed against the wall. You lean in, foreheads almost touching, your dark eyes daring her to lie to you.

Wanda takes her time to answer, but when she finally does, her expression is resolute, as though she's trying to prove a point to you. “No, I don’t regret it,” she murmurs, her words a mere breath against your lips. Wanda looks so taken by the hungry look in your eyes that she fails to see what comes next.

The kiss this time is a stark contrast from the last. There’s an edge of danger to it, almost like the kiss that started Wanda’s downfall that culminated in a near-death experience, the kiss that was punishing and every bit of the hatred you harbored for her.

But there's also a desperation to it–as if you're sinking and this kiss is your lifeline; a frayed, ragged lifeline that could only be the one to pull you back to the surface.

As Wanda's head hits the wall with a soft thud, a pang of concern breaks through the haze of your fervor. Swiftly, you slide your hand between her head and the hard concrete, cushioning her as the urgency of your kiss escalates. Wanda almost sobs at the subtle tenderness behind your action, the considerate gesture leaving her somewhat taken aback, considering the harsh exchange you'd had just moments before.

No, this is nothing like your previous encounter.

You're not biting down to break skin. Your fingers aren't pressing into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Your tongue isn't demanding or invasive, it's simply there, matching her rhythm and intensity. Wanda is unable to do anything but moan under you and rub her thighs together to relieve the pressure that’s building there.

Yet, you still don’t let her touch you. You don’t let her fingers venture up your stomach from under your shirt. Instead, you catch her hands, lacing your fingers through hers, and pull her arms above her head. All the while, your lips deftly trace a path down her throat. It’s soft and wet and so utterly delicate–everything Wanda thinks she hasn’t earned.

Nothing prepares her for the moment your hand makes contact with her core, even through the fabric of her shorts. She realizes just how much you’ve been holding back when you cup her forcefully, groaning from the heat and dampness that hits your palm.

If this means what Wanda thinks it means, she doesn’t want it to happen against the wall of her living room.

“Y/N?” she whispers raggedly in your ear, feeling the heel of your hand starting to grind against her clit.

“Yeah…?” you moan against her heated cheek as your fingers slips beneath her panties and find wet, wiry curls.

“Fuck–” Wanda whimpers at the contact. “B-Bedroom, please.”

Following her lead, you hoist Wanda up and her legs instinctively coil around your waist. She directs you towards her bedroom with verbal cues, realizing you're far too engrossed in lavishing attention on the skin just above her breasts to care about bumping into furniture. Your hand drifts up her back, finding the clasp of her bra and skillfully unfastening it.

And then no words are spoken at all after that.

***

Wanda stirs awake near noon, realizing that she's skipped her therapy appointment. Instinctively, her hands reach out to the area beside her, expecting to feel your warmth. However, she is greeted only by the cool sheets of the bed, the space vacant.

You're gone.

While she had been lost in dreams where she had a second chance at the life she yearned to have with you, you had quietly dressed and slipped out of her apartment, leaving no trace or note behind. You had vanished as silently and swiftly as a dream at daybreak.

Wanda arches her back, mimicking the languid stretch of a cat, the resulting pops of her spine easing the tension more than the action itself. The sex was… phenomenal. She couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.

When a bit of the afterglow wears off, she is haunted by a question: What happens now?

More importantly, are you coming back? Or is this a one-time thing for you?

With a weighty sigh, Wanda allows herself to collapse back onto the mattress. Doubt creeps in as she begins to question whether her decision to let this unfold was the right one. After all, you’ve both been down this path before, sex was not a magic remedy that mended everything.

What she couldn’t deny, however, is how gentle you were with her. You were making love to her, and nothing could sway Wanda from this belief. It sparks a tiny ray of hope within her that perhaps this time, you're ready to give her another chance.

Maybe, just maybe, you're open to trying again.

Yet, the vacant space next to her feels almost accusatory. Wanda has never been fond of waiting. But it’s the only thing she can do for now.

After all, beggars can’t be choosers.

***

The call from her therapist comes at around nine in the evening. Wanda considers it a little unprofessional, given the late hour, but she supposes that Calliope sees at least a dozen patients a day. Truthfully, she’s been anticipating this call all day, especially after she deliberately skipped her session to–

A soft snore escapes from your half-open mouth, drawing Wanda’s attention momentarily.

–spend time with you. Wanda can’t explain it, but she’s afraid to bring this up to Calliope. And she knows that if she sees Calliope or talks to her, it would open the floodgates and everything will come rushing out before she can stop them.

She's missed two calls now, but the phone in her hand vibrates again and Calliope’s name stares back at her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda finally picks up.

“Hello, Wanda?”

“Hi,” Wanda replies, aiming to sound cheerful.

Calliope wastes no time getting to the purpose of this call. “You missed this morning’s session. Did something happen?”

Wanda's gaze drifts to you, sleeping soundly, your hair a mess as it spreads out in every direction. The sheets have slid down, exposing your bare back in a manner that makes her want to abandon the call and join you.

“Oh, uh... I just got tied up at the cafe. Sorry for not informing your secretary,” she hastily lies.

“So, everything's okay then?”

“Yes,” Wanda confirms, her eyes never leaving you as she replies honestly this time. Calliope seems satisfied with that and proceeds to book a slot for Wanda two days hence before ending the call.

You open an eye at her lazily, your voice muffled by the pillow as you ask, “Who was it?”

“No one,” Wanda says without batting an eye. “Just a supplier for the coffee shop.”

Your response is a drowsy murmur, your face sinking deeper into the pillow as you pursue the lingering traces of Wanda's scent. A smile tugs at Wanda's lips at the innocence of the gesture, despite the fact that you’re very naked under the covers. She hadn’t anticipated she’d see you again so soon, moreso that she’d sleep with you again right away when she does. But you had showed up unannounced, yet again, and casually asked Wanda if she'd eaten dinner already. Wanda had barely gotten the word ‘yes’ out, before you’re urgently reaching out and snatching her into a hungry kiss.

And then it was all lips and touches and her coming into your mouth three times until she had to literally cover herself with her hand just to get you to stop.

Wanda's cheeks warm as she surrenders to the memory of your fervent reunion from only a few hours prior, but your sleep-laden murmurings, muffled as they are by the pillow your face is buried in, yank her back to the present. She chuckles lightly and perches herself at the edge of the bed, drawing a line along your back with her fingertips, raising goosebumps along the path.

"Can you repeat that?" she prompts, massaging your neck.

You lift your head slightly, your eyelids still heavy with sleep. “I said–do you need me to go?”

Wanda shakes her head, even though you can't see her. “Let’s just sleep,” she whispers.

Wanda gets up to remove her shirt over her head. Then, she slides back under the sheets and curls up against you. She presses her bare body to your back, fitting herself perfectly against your shape. Your warmth seeps into her, filling the cold spots that your absence had left behind.

Wanda notes that this is the first time you’re willing to stay since before you found out she cheated on you. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift away. If you’re staying, then there's an opportunity to talk about this tomorrow.

***

Leaving a slumbering Wanda behind is not easy. You have to gingerly disentangle yourself from her grip to avoid waking her up. Initially, sleeping with Wanda was not part of your plan, but seeing her with Valkyrie had stirred a sense of jealousy within you that led to a powerful desire to claim Wanda as yours.

And so it kept happening, again and again–like a drug you just couldn't shake off.

You haven't really thought about what it all means. To be honest, you've been actively avoiding it. A week of overthinking has left you stuck at a dead-end, feeling numb and desperate to feel something, anything at all.

And in all this, Wanda is the only one who seems to fill the void, the only one who doesn't make you feel so alone.

***

“Dr. Williams?” Pietro says hesitantly as he picks up the call.

“Hi, Pietro. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time,” comes Calliope's voice, clear and loud.

“No, I was just–did we have a scheduled meeting that slipped my mind?” he inquires, wondering about the suddenness of this call.

“We didn't,” Calliope assures him. “I'm actually calling about Wanda. Have you had a chance to speak with her recently?”

Pietro doesn’t like the sound of this. “No, I haven’t. Is she okay?”

“She missed her appointment this morning without notice. It’s the second time in a row. And I just got off the phone with her… she was deflective.”

“I'll check in with her,” Pietro promptly assures, before adding more softly, “Should I be worried?”

“She has agreed to meet me on Tuesday,” Calliope replies, deftly skirting around his question. “So, it may not be a pressing matter. I apologize for disturbing you.”

“No problem at all, Dr. Williams. Feel free to call anytime.”

As the call ends, Pietro is left alone with his thoughts. His mind is whirring with worry for Wanda, and he sits there for a moment, lost in thought. With a sigh, he places his phone back on the coffee table, a frown etching itself onto his face.

Feeling restless, he picks up his phone again, fingers swiping the screen with a certain degree of nervousness. His gallery opens up, a collection of countless memories frozen in pixels. He scrolls through it, stopping at a particular picture that still haunts him.

It's a hard image to look at, a memory of a particularly painful day. But he keeps it, just in case he needs it, a ghost hiding in his phone.

He knows, if push comes to shove, he has this to fall back on.

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