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its-avalon-08 · 2 months ago

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im not giving up on you (dr3)

after the singapore gp, i was sobbing. danny, our sunshine danny might be leaving us and that broke my heart so entirely. here is to out honey badger, you made me love this sport, seeing your smile was the only light on some dark days. you made it, you lived your formula one dream and you will always be able to say that. for always making us laugh and find joy in the butterflies, we thank you daniel <3

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, losing his seat, tears, fluffy ending

The Singapore night was thick with humidity, the scent of burning rubber still clinging to the air long after the race had ended. Daniel Ricciardo walked through the now-empty paddock, the silence overwhelming. The once-vibrant energy that pulsed through the grounds was now replaced with nothing but the dull hum of the lights, casting long shadows that made the place feel eerily lonely.

Daniel had always been good at putting on a strong face. Smiling, joking, pretending everything was fine. He had perfected it over the years. But tonight, the facade had cracks — deep, painful cracks that threatened to break him entirely.

After the Singapore GP, the world knew. The news had broken: Daniel was losing his seat at V-CARB. Another seat lost. Another chapter closing. And it felt as though he had lost everything again. He couldn’t bear to face his team, his friends. Not even Max. So he stayed in the paddock long after everyone had left, sitting alone on a stack of tires, his head in his hands.

He didn’t hear the footsteps at first.

"Daniel?"

The voice was soft, familiar, and full of concern. He looked up, blinking through the blur of tears that stung his eyes. There she was — Y/N Verstappen. Max’s little sister.

She had always been around, always there, a comforting presence from the days when he and Max were teammates. She had been his friend, but it was so much more than that. They had danced around their feelings for years, never daring to speak the truth, both afraid of what it might mean.

Daniel quickly wiped his eyes, trying to pull himself together. "Hey," he said, his voice strained, cracking under the weight of his emotions. "What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same," Y/N replied softly, stepping closer. "It’s late."

"I couldn’t leave," he admitted, his eyes staring at the ground, unable to meet hers. "It’s just… a lot."

Y/N stood in front of him, her eyes searching his face. She could see right through him. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Daniel."

"I’m not pretending," he lied, letting out a shaky laugh. "I’m fine. It’s just another bump in the road, right? I’ll bounce back. I always do."

But even as he spoke, his voice trembled, and Y/N could hear the pain beneath his words. She sat down beside him on the tires, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him in the humid night air, but still hesitant to touch him.

"It’s okay to not be fine," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Daniel’s jaw tightened as he looked away, blinking rapidly. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He had always been the strong one, the happy-go-lucky guy who could handle anything. But tonight, the weight of everything was crushing him.

"I feel like I’m losing everything," he finally admitted, his voice breaking. "Like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, it’s never enough. I’m never enough."

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of him like this — so vulnerable, so raw. She reached out hesitantly, her hand gently resting on his arm. "Daniel… you’re more than enough. You’ve always been more than enough."

He shook his head, biting down on his lip as tears welled up in his eyes again. "I don’t know how to keep going. Everyone keeps telling me to just keep my head up, keep smiling. But I’m tired, Y/N. I’m so tired."

Her hand tightened around his arm, the warmth of her touch grounding him in that moment. "You don’t have to do this alone."

Daniel’s shoulders shook as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath. He didn’t have the strength to pretend anymore. The tears he had been holding back for so long finally fell, spilling down his cheeks as he covered his face with his hands, his body trembling with silent sobs.

Y/N felt her own tears start to fall as she watched him break down, the sight of him so utterly heartbroken making her chest ache. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Without thinking, she pulled him into her arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"I’ve got you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’ve always got you."

Daniel buried his face in her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist as he clung to her, the dam of emotions finally breaking. He sobbed into her neck, all the pain, frustration, and helplessness pouring out of him. And Y/N held him, stroking his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

"I don’t know what to do, Y/N," Daniel choked out between sobs. "I feel like I’ve failed. Again."

"You haven’t failed," she insisted, pulling back just enough to look at him, her hands cupping his tear-streaked face. "You’ve given everything, Daniel. You’ve fought so hard. You’re one of the best drivers out there, and no seat can take that away from you. Not now, not ever."

Daniel let out a long sigh, pulling away slightly from Y/N’s embrace, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His voice was quieter now, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before, like he was finally allowing himself to speak the truth that had been buried deep inside for years.

"You know," he began, staring out at the empty paddock, "when I left Red Bull, I thought I was making the best decision of my life. I really did. I thought… this was it, you know? My time. I didn’t want to be second to Max — your brother’s an incredible driver, you know that. But I couldn’t sit there anymore, watching everyone around me believe I’d always be the second-best. I wanted to be number one. I wanted my own team to back me, to believe in me. And at the time, Renault seemed like that opportunity, like I could prove I could lead a team, that I could fight for championships."

He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "God, I was so naïve. I thought leaving Red Bull would be the start of my rise, not the beginning of my fall. Renault wasn’t easy, but I stuck it out. Then McLaren came calling, and I thought that was my shot. It was McLaren, you know? One of the biggest names in Formula 1. I thought I was stepping into greatness."

He paused, his voice trembling. "And then everything fell apart. From the start, it felt wrong. Like I didn’t belong there. I tried so damn hard, Y/N. I worked my ass off, but nothing clicked. No matter what I did, how much time I put in, it never worked. Every race, every session, I felt like I was slipping further away from the driver I used to be. And it wasn’t just the car — it was everything. The pressure, the doubts, the whispers that I’d lost it, that I wasn’t the driver I once was."

He swallowed hard, the pain of those years written across his face. "They treated me like I was broken. Like I was damaged goods. And I started to believe it. Every time I got into that car, I felt like a shadow of myself. They replaced me without a second thought, like I was disposable. And I tried to be strong, you know? I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, that I’d bounce back. But deep down, it hurt. It hurt more than anything."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart aching for him, but she stayed silent, letting him speak.

"And then this year," he continued, his voice cracking. "I thought coming back to V-CARB was going to be my redemption. That this was finally going to be the moment where I’d prove to everyone that I still had it. But now… now I’m losing my seat again. And it just feels like the world’s telling me I’m not wanted. That no one believes in me anymore. Every time I think I’m getting back on my feet, I just get knocked down again. It’s like no matter what I do, no one sees me. Not as I am, not for what I can be. They just see what they think I’ve become — a has-been."

Daniel’s voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "I feel… I feel like I’m unwanted, Y/N. Like I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I used to love this sport so much. It was everything to me. But now it feels like it’s slipping away, like I’m being pushed out, and I don’t know what to do."

He ran his hands over his face, the weight of his journey pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "I’ve given everything to this sport. Years of my life, my heart, my soul. I sacrificed everything to chase this dream. And now… I’m just scared, Y/N. I’m scared that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be enough. I’ll never get back to where I once was."

There was a long pause, the silence between them thick with emotion. Daniel’s chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing, but his eyes were red, his cheeks stained with tears.

"I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like I’m failing. Like I’ve lost everything that mattered. And it’s killing me, Y/N. I don’t know if I can keep pretending like I’m okay, when inside, I’m falling apart."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him close. "Daniel, you’ve never been a failure. Not to me. You’re the strongest person I know, and no matter what happens, no seat, no team, no damn race can take away who you are. You’ve always been enough."

And this time, Daniel didn’t pull away. He sank into her embrace, the tears falling once again, but this time, it felt different. He wasn’t alone.

His eyes searched hers, filled with so much pain, so much doubt. "What if this is it? What if this is the end for me?"

"It’s not the end," Y/N said firmly, her thumbs brushing away the tears on his cheeks. "And even if it were, you’d still be Daniel Ricciardo — the man I…"

She stopped, the words hanging in the air between them, unspoken for years.

Daniel’s breath hitched as he realized what she was about to say. "Y/N…"

She looked away, her own tears threatening to spill over. "I’ve loved you for so long, Daniel. And I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you’re hurting, and I hate that I never told you sooner because maybe… maybe you wouldn’t have to go through this alone."

Daniel was silent for a moment, his mind racing as her words sank in. He had always known. Deep down, he had always known. But hearing it, finally hearing it… it shattered something inside him.

"I’ve loved you too," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you since… since forever, Y/N. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I couldn’t lose you."

She looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. "You could never lose me."

Daniel leaned his forehead against hers, his breath shaky as they both cried, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally crashing down on them.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I’m here," she replied, her arms wrapping around him again, holding him as if she would never let go.

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other, their tears mingling in the humid night air. And when the exhaustion finally overtook them, Daniel shifted, pulling Y/N down with him onto the bench beside the tires. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, their bodies fitting together perfectly as they lay there in the silence of the paddock.

Y/N rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as they both closed their eyes, the weight of the world fading away for a little while.

And in the stillness of the night, they finally found peace in each other’s arms, their unspoken love wrapped around them like a blanket, protecting them from the world outside.

the next day

The next morning, the sun filtered through the windows of the small café tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the paddock. Daniel felt lighter today. His heart still ached, the reality of his situation hadn't magically disappeared overnight, but there was something different. A quiet peace had settled inside him. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t carrying his burdens alone.

He glanced at Y/N across the table. She was scrolling through her phone, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the table. His chest warmed at the sight of her. Y/N was always there, had always been there, but now it was different. Last night changed everything.

They hadn’t said much that morning, but they didn’t need to. She had been a constant presence at his side, making him feel like, no matter what, he’d be okay.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You ready for this?”

Daniel chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Depends. Is Max going to kill me or just be incredibly smug?"

Y/N laughed, and Daniel could swear it was his favorite sound in the world. “He’ll be a bit of both, probably. But definitely more smug. He’s been calling this for years.”

As if on cue, Max Verstappen walked into the café, spotting them immediately. He made a beeline for their table, his signature serious expression betraying just the faintest hint of amusement. He slid into the seat across from them, a wry smile on his face.

"Morning," Max said, folding his arms across his chest, eyes flicking between the two of them. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Daniel groaned playfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Go on, get it out of your system."

Max leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and grinned. "I knew it. I’ve known it since, what, the first year we were teammates? You two were practically inseparable. The way you used to look at each other…" He shook his head, pretending to be exasperated. "I can’t believe it took you this long."

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, Max, don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that obvious."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Y/N, you’re my sister. You think I didn’t notice how every time Daniel was around, you’d act different? Or how he was always finding some excuse to come over when you were visiting?"

Daniel groaned again, leaning back in his chair. "Okay, okay, you were right. Is that what you want to hear?"

Max smirked, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Yes. Yes, it is." He paused, then his expression softened, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. "But seriously, I’m happy for you both. You’re good together."

Daniel felt his heart swell at that. Max wasn’t the type to dish out compliments easily, especially when it came to his sister. He knew how protective Max was of Y/N, and hearing those words meant more than he could express.

"Thanks, mate," Daniel said quietly, meeting Max’s gaze. "It means a lot."

Max gave a small nod before turning his attention to Y/N. "Just promise me one thing — if he does anything stupid, you’ll let me know so I can give him hell for it."

Y/N laughed, giving her brother a playful shove. "I’m pretty sure I can handle him, Max."

Max grinned. "I have no doubt."

The three of them fell into an easy rhythm after that, the conversation light, the teasing back and forth, just like old times. For a brief moment, it felt like everything was as it should be — like the weight of the past few months had lifted, even if just for a little while.

As Max droned on about the next race and the changes to his car, Daniel glanced at Y/N, who was laughing at something Max had said. She caught his gaze, her smile softening, and in that moment, Daniel realized that no matter what happened next — no matter how uncertain the future felt — he wasn’t alone.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. Not just in the sport or on the track, but with Y/N by his side. And whatever came next, they’d face it together.

"So," Max said suddenly, breaking through Daniel’s thoughts. "You’re both officially a thing now?"

Daniel smirked, his hand finding Y/N’s under the table. "Yeah, Max. We’re a thing."

Max raised his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Finally."

Y/N giggled, squeezing Daniel’s hand as they exchanged a knowing look.

Finally.

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synthetickitsune · 5 months ago

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can i ask for dokyeom + Being held after a long day + rainy days? please make it super fluff for the sunshine boy who radiates warmth and comfort🥺

thanks!

DK (SVT) | Rainy day & being held after a long day

fluff | 0.7k | gn!reader

A/N: if the formatting is wonky it’s bcs im posting from my phone lol

“Your feet are cold,” you whine, curling into a fetal position. He laughs, whispering soft apologies and molding his body against yours. It’s not that bad if you’re honest. You just like his voice when he speaks softly to you. You open your body to him, like a flower blooming you let him closer.

The summer storm has caught you unprepared. One minute you were rocking your body to the beat of the music, Seokmin’s heated body moving in sync with yours under the blue summer sky, and then the next minute darkness took over. The temperature took a nosedive too - again, you were not prepared for that. You got home barely an hour ago, resembling a couple of shivering soaked rats.

A gentleman, Seokmin let you take a shower first while he prepared snacks and hot drinks. Although now you think it might’ve been an excuse to have you warm up the bed, so he could comfortably snuggle into it.

“It was fun. Shame we had to leave,” he sighs, face snuggled into your chest.

“I put so much effort into my fit too,” you complain aloud. His arms tighten around you and he kisses every patch of skin he can reach.

“I know, and you looked so gorgeous,” he mumbles in a note that doesn’t sound very happy, “Do you know how many guys were staring at you? I was right there.”

You giggle, intertwining your fingers with his over your stomach before changing your mind and turning around to hold him in your arms as well. He smiles again when you kiss him. And again. And again. You pull away enough to look into his eyes.

“I don’t actually know because I was too busy looking at you,” you reassure him, “It’s hard to look anywhere else when my boyfriend is so hot.”

He makes a soft oh and bites his lip. “You’re hot too.”

“Thank you,” you accept his compliment with a smirk that soon turns into a yawn, “I’m glad we’re home though.”

The soft drumming of rain outside spreads through the room, filling the comfortable silence. The cold air blows in through the window, but you’re perfectly protected by the blanket and your shared body heat. Maybe this is better than the booming noise of the festival.

“It’s nice,” Seokmin agrees, “I was getting tired anyway, I just didn’t want to ruin your fun.”

“You can’t be for real,” you groan, closing your eyes before rubbing them, “Do you know how much I wished you’d say you want to go home?”

“So much that you made it rain,” he jokes, making you laugh too, “And you could’ve said something too.”

“But you looked like you’re having a great time.”

“You too,” he makes sure to make the situation a stalemate. You feel a little silly starring at him with a pout on your lips when he’s pouting too, the same stubborn look mirrored in his eyes. It only takes a few seconds for both of you to break.

You pull him closer and he readjusts your position so you could nestle in the crook of his neck, his arm tightly coiled around your waist. His other hand massages your neck gently, making you close your eye in bliss.

The rain sounds so far away, wind keeping it from hitting your window and disturbing your peace. If you listen closely, it feels like you can still hear the music from the festival. You let Seokmin easy the tension from your neck and shoulders. You don’t feel too tired or you know you’d be falling asleep already.

“I feel sore all over, you?” you mumble, too tired to open your mouth properly.

“We’re getting old - some jumping around and look at us,” he sighs dramatically. You join him. “It’s too bad.”

“It’s bad getting old with me?” you tease, more a playful hum. You can hear the smile in his voice. You feel his arms settle around your body and squeeze you tighter. You hold him closer too.

“Never,” he whispers, “I’ll love you even when you’re a wrinkly raisin.”

“I’ll love you too, my wrinkly wet thumb,” you laugh at his immediate protest of raisins are cute! and shut him up with a kiss.

That always works.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #dokyeom x reader #svthub #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #dokyeom fluff #dk fluff #seokmin x reader #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt reactions #seokmin scenarios #dokyeom scenarios #drabble #fluff #requested

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creations-by-chaosfay · 5 months ago

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Neither of my machines are large enough for the Cutie quilting frame. The diagram on Grace Company's website was unclear of where they measured the machine, but it turns out both my machines are nearly two inches too short for the lowest setting. I need at least 8.5 inches of workspace, also know as the throat.

I won't be able to handquilt for the next several months. My hands and wrists are a wreck and need time to heal. This is why everything I make will need to be handquilted until probably next spring or summer. It's why I need the frame, otherwise finished items will need to be small enough to fit in my machine without straining myself. I can manage about 30 inches square max, which is why the largest items I'm making are table runners and wallhangings. Large quilt tops are an option, but finishing the quilt won't happen unless I hire someone else, and I don't want to do that.

Grace Company made a machine specifically for the frame. It's called Little Rebel, and I hope to be able to afford it next winter. It's $3k, which is waaaaay outta my budget. There's a second machine, a Jenome, that's $1200. I have bills, my debt, and smaller things I need, like a printer, an XBox for my husband, and some inexpensive exercise equipment (my asthma cannot handle summer air and my body cannot tolerate summer heat or sunshine), just to name a few things. All money I receive goes to my goals and bills, not machines.

If you fancy purchasing a machine, I have my Throne list here. When I have either machine and get practice in, commission prices for quilts wheelchair/baby size and up may cost less than half the original prices I had them up. Handquilting will be reserved for love and personal pieces.

I will happily give a quilt I finish on the frame to whomever buys one of these machines for me. There are half a dozen quilt tops in my standing wardrobe, all waiting to be completed quilts. More tops will be made, which are more options to choose from.

I'll take my frame apart this weekend, once we figure out a place I can store it in the house. Until I get a machine that works with it, this will remain stored away and no larger quilts will be made except as just listed quilt tops.

Thank you.

My work below, for the interested:

#words from the artist #mutual aid #disabled artist #disability #artists on tumblr #this is absolutely an accommodation for chronic pain: wrist and hand issues back pain and possibly EDS #handquilting will be very limited due to the problems I have with my hands and wrists #until I have a machine and practice there will be nothing offered that I can't quilt with ease on my sewing desk

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luveline · 1 year ago

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if you’re open to it, could you complete the trio and write smth abt james seeing reader’s scars for the first time, too? ty x

ty for requesting ♡ fem

cw past self-harm [no graphic imagery]

It should surprise James as someone who's never thought about hurting himself, but he has two very important best friends, of which he'd do anything for, who aren't of the same disposition. So when he notices the pale skin of your scars where they criss-cross your chest, your stomach, your thighs, he's almost ready for it.

You attract sad souls, Sirius had said once, mostly joking.

But James doesn't think that's true. He just thinks there are more people who needed love and didn't get it than first appears.

You sit up in your sun lounger. James pretends not to notice when you see him, smiling to himself as you grab your cover up.

"The sun doesn't feel real, right?" you ask, sitting next to him on the picnic bench. "Late September heatwave. What will global warming think of next?"

"It's miserable," he says agreeably, though he loves the heat. "That's nice."

"This?" you ask, waving at your cover up. It's ruched fabric made to drape at your hips, almost like a skirt.

"Yeah, that. You look really pretty."

"Thanks, James." Your smile is all kinds of dazzling. "Nice of Sirius to host a party, huh? Now we can make the most of the sunshine. Did he put you in charge of food again?"

He nods to the spread in clingfilm behind you both. It's safe in the shade, the sun kissing to your knees and not much further. "Doesn't he always?"

"It's good for me. I like your samosas."

"Which ones? The kheema ones?" He nudges you amicably. "You have good taste. I made a bunch of sliders too, cucumber sandwiches. Don't limit yourself."

You stay by his side and eventually peel back the clingfilm on one of the plates, stealing quarter sandwiches with one of your legs pulled up on the bench. Your bikini is little and your coverup slips to one side down your leg, scars plainly on show. He has no intention of bringing it up, until you notice what's happened and flinch. He can't hide that he's seen fast enough, horrified when you fluster, you waver, your eyes pinched with humiliation. "Sorry," you say, laughing awkwardly. "I'm flashing you. Sorry."

He casts a glance around the back garden. Most of your friends squeeze into the lazy spa sweating themselves to death in the sun, and the remainder drink cold drinks by the stereo. No one's watching you but him.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says.

"I just didn't want you to see."

"Me?" he asks, startled.

"I mean. Not like that. Not not like that." You tear the crusts off of your sandwich and put them on the plate like you're looking for something to do. "Not like anything." You smile at him a raw shade off of happy.

"Shortcake, it doesn't bother me one bit. You think I care about that?" He ducks his head. "You're you. All of this," —he makes a small gesture at your front— "is you. I want to see all of it. You don't have anything you need to hide."

"All of it?" you ask strangely.

He doesn't get what you're saying but then he does, suddenly, blood rushing to his face and his ears hot as a flame. What a weird thing to say, he stresses to himself. You stupid man. "I'm not a pervert," he says.

You gawp. He gets hotter, if possible, scratching his hair back from his eyes.

"I mean, you're beautiful," he says, "anyone would be lucky to see it all. Oh my god."

You put your ruined sandwich on the edge of the plate and fix the clingfilm as he dies of shame. He's thinking well, courting you was fun while it lasted, all those bad jokes and better hugs, he loved every minute of your attention.

You laugh. "Most of the time I don't care about them," you confess, and he's so happy to hear your voice rolling over his embarrassment he could run a lap, "they're old. Can't do anything about them. But I didn't want you to think I was some sort of freak."

"Is that what you think you are?"

"No, of course not… Silly for doing something like that."

"I don't think it was silly. We do what we can, right?" He eases his arm around your shoulders in a hug, his hand eager to rub at the top of your arm. "I don't think you're some sort of freak, you're my type of freak."

"You really don't care?"

"I care," he says gently, touching the tip of his nose to your cheek before giving you a more friendly amount of space. "A lot. Especially about you, okay? But I don't care about them unless you do. I like you, yeah?"

"I like you too," you say.

"Wanna prove it?"

James asks you to make him a plate of things to graze on while he finds you both a drink. It's not his most romantic of lines, but it means you end up at his side for a dedicated while, flicking condensation at his chest. You don't worry about the coverup again.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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jeonqkooks · 1 year ago

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our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @/wintaerbaer (edited 2024: crossed out but not removed bc even tho she plagiarized obs afterward, she did beta this for me so i guess i still gotta give her that lmfao) for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist join our OBS discord server ✨

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere.

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don��t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house.

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married.

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great.

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met.

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky.

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace.

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground.

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks.

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go.

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back. [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.” You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement.

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge.

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him.

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him. His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening.

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

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smoshyourheadin · 8 months ago

Text

Sunshine and Soda Cans

Part 3 - Refreshing

“oh my god tell me EVERYTHING”

angela runs up to you as she hears your keys in the door, practically tackling you for information.

“okay! okay! so, well, we were editing, and then we streamed, and then i drove him to his apartment, and we kissed, and i dont know!” you retort, flopping down on the couch. “also wheres that ice-cream?” you ask her with puppy dog eyes.

“oh shoot yeah! ill grab it,” she scurries off for a minute, and returns with two bowls of vanilla ice-cream topped with strawberry slices. “here you are m’lady”

you hiss as your skin touches the cold bowl

“okay, so, how did it happen? was it good? do you think he likes you?” she begins to spew questions at you.

“one at a time jelly, jeez! okay so , it happened when we were outside his apartment, yes it was good, and i think so? maybe? i hope so at least.”

“well,” she says with a huf “if he doesn't like you he’s missing out!”

you giggle at her, and turn on tangled for the hundredth time this month, it’s your guys’ favourite. you curl up together under a blanket, and drift off.

the weekend goes on pretty smoothly, you and angela just hanging out. then monday comes around.

“cmon (y/n/n) wake up! we’re gonna be late!” you feel the mattress dipping, and rub your eyes.

“huh-“ you reply groggily, and then you realise whats happening

“ANGELA STOP JUMPING ON MY BED!” you laugh at her energy, as she flops down beside you. managing to hoist yourself out if bed, you throw on a sweatshirt and linen pants. on the way to the office, you guys stop at coffee bean for smoothies, which angela almost spills everywhere.

walking into the office, you spot spencer and give him a sweet smile. but he freezes up and just walks away.

what?

you shrug it off, and continue on through the day.

at around 2, you’re about to start shooting an aitah video with spencer and, obviously, shayne. but spencer is being really avoidant, not looking at you while kiana tells you about the shoot. so you chase him up just before the shoot, because you don’t want that tension on screen

“spencer hey,” you jog up to him in the kitchen as he grabs a mt dew kickstart. “whats up? why are you being weird with me? have i done something?” you look into his eyes as you ask him, and you can see his sadness.

“no, i just, i don't know…” he starts to trail off “i just feel like i forced you to kiss me when you didnt want to and i feel really shitty about it and i-”

“hey,” you gently grab his hands “it’s okay, it was nice. i liked it” you smile, and kiss him on the cheek, turning away to go get ready for the shoot. you feel the heat in your cheeks.

during the shoot, you and spencer share the chunky knit blanket as shayne reads you some of the most outrageous stories you’ve ever heard, and you wonder how people online are comfortable enough to say this kind of stuff

afterwards, as you begin to leave, spencer catches up with you.

“(y/n)!” he shouts, catching up with you at your desk while you pack your bag “so um, i was wondering, and obviously feel free to say no, um, if you’d want to go to the fair with me on friday night?” he looks nervous, almost as if he feels he shouldn't ask you.

“yeah, yeah that’d be nice” you smile at him, and his eyes light up at your statement. he thanks you, and says he’ll text you about it later. walking outside, you meet angela and hop in the car.

“what’s got you in a good mood? you’re only ever this quiet when you’re happy. what happened? DID SPENCER-” she begins to interrogate you as you pull out of the lot

“yes, it’s to do with spencer. he asked me on a date.”

angela gasps so loud you swear she could break glass.

“OHMYGOD FINALLY!! I THOUGHT HE WAS IGNORING YOU THIS MORNING BUT HE WAS PROBABLY JUST NERVOUS OH MY GOSH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” she bounces in her seat, rattling the car. you laugh, leaning away from the hyperactive puppy of a best friend you have.

over the next few days, you and spencer start hanging out a lot more and get a lot closer. you find yourselves sharing longing gazes across rooms, staying up late into the night just talking about life, and discovering things about each other you didn't know. each moment you spend together feels like a lifetime, the bond between you two deepening with every laugh. and then you realise something. you wanted to spend all you time with him.

fuck.

friday evening rolls around, and you’re sat at your desk finishing an edit, and waiting for arasha to bring you a coffee, when spencer walks over to you. his hair is messy, and he’s wearing a plaid shirt tucked in his worn in dickies, with a denim jacket over the top. he looks beautiful.

“you ready to go?” he says, cocking his head slightly

“just give me a minute, im just finishing up this edit and arasha’s bringing me coffee. but feel free to hang out here while i finish up!” you say looking up at him with a smile.

you finish the edit, and arasha walks over with courtney and shayne, and coffee in her hand.

“sup lovers! (y/n) here’s your overly sweet coffee,” she sets it down on your desk, then taking a sip of her own “so, big plans tonight spencer? you’re dressed up…” arasha says slyly, raising an eyebrow

“i mean if taking (y/n) on a date is big plans then, i guess so” spencer smiles at her

“HA! I KNEW IT! IAN AND YOU OWE ME 10 BUCKS EACH” courtney fist pumps the air, and shoves shayne in the shoulder

“ugh why do you always have to be right! you suck!” he dejectedly pulls a 10 dollar note out of his back pocket, and she pinches it with a “thank-you!”. you just look at them all, mouth agape.

“you placed bets on this!?” you look at courtney in shock.

“i mean, obviously. i knew you liked him, but we placed bets on how long it would take for anything to happen. my guess was a month and a week and hey, here we are”

“huh, weirdly specific but… go you!” you smirk at her, standing up to slide your jacket on.

“well, if you’ll exuse us, we have oversized bears to win” spencer smirks and holds his hand out for you to take, as you walk out the office together.

“awh,” tommy says, walking up to the three of them who were lingering near your desk “they’re so cute together!”

“sup nerds, what are we talking about?” ian jumps in

“ian give me my 10 dollars, spencer and (y/n) are going on a date as we speak” she grins at him

“ughhhhhh, fineeeeeeeee. you’re the worst court”

you and spencer hop in the car, and drive off to the fair, and as soon as you arrive, you run and buy a tub of cotton candy.

as you walk around, arms linked with spencer, you drag him to all the shitty games that you’re convinced are rigged.

“what!! no i definitely hit that one!” you stomp your feet like an upset child at the coconut shy, frowning because you didn’t get the giant giraffe teddy.

“watch this” spencer says confidently, and you gawk at him as he hits all the targets perfectly.

“how the hell did you manage that!” you say in amazement

he just laughs and passes you the giraffe “years of playing video games sometimes pays off”

you take the giraffe, and decide to call it amanda. so obviously, you send her a picture

amanderp 😚

———

you: [picture of you and the giraffe]

you: guess what i named it

amanderp 😚: giraffey?

you: nope, meet amanda ;)

amanderp 😚: omg i love you!! can she live at your desk? i want to meet her 😆😆

you: of course! i’ll bring her in on monday :))

you and spencer continue to sort of just walk around, giggling with eachother. as the night comes to a close, you get on the ferris wheel.

“its so pretty up here” you look out across the fair, the lights dancing over peoples faces as you sit at the top.

“yeah, makes you realise how pretty other things are” you turn to look at him, and he’s already looking at you. he looks at your lips, then back into your eyes. you close the distance between you both, pressing your lips together sofly, bringing your hand up to his hair and gently running your fingers through his curls. you break it apart, foreheads presses together, and he giggles

“hey whats funny!” you pout, sitting up and looking him in the eyes

“you taste like cotton candy. you taste like you. just overly sweet.”

you cant help but smile, leaning on his shoulder and lacing your fingers together. he looks down at you, and in that moment, you became his sunshine.

——————————

a/n: AHHH ITS FINISHED!! thank you all so much for the love on this series, it was so fun to write and it’s been so nice seeing your guys’ comments 💛💛 requests are open <3

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #smosh #shayne topp #courtney miller #arasha lalani #amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #ian hecox #smoshyourheadin

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paradiseprincesss · 5 months ago

Note

hi!! if ur requests r still open could we get a fic w robert fischer based on deja vu by olivia rodrigo? like maybe reader and robert had like a summer fling but to her it felt like more ykwim 😭 ive kinda been in the mood for some angst lately LOL

btw i love ur fics i start tweaking a lil whenever u post 💀💞

do you get deja vu? | robert fischer

hi anon, first of all thank you! you're so sweet, i really hope you enjoy this & i apologize that it took me so long to post it. i don't know why but i kept revising this fic over and over again. i wanted it to live up to your expectations LOL.

summary: sometimes we don't realize how much things meant to us until we no longer have it.

warnings: smut, p in v, angst, lovers to strangers, robert fucks up lol and now he's forever sad, mdni 18+ only

word count: 2.3k

the city of malibu was breathtaking; every moment spent here was somehow better than the last — how could a place be so beautiful? as you sat in the passenger side of robert's brand new luxury vehicle, you took in the beauty that you were residing in, whilst robert was taking in the beauty of you.

you weren't totally sure how this whole thing happened — but god, did it mean everything to you.

robert had approached you in a bar while you were out with your girlfriends in the city, offering to buy you a drink. one look at his face and you were agreeing because honestly; who would turn down a man like him?

after your friends encouraged you to keep talking to the handsome stranger, who introduced himself as robert, you two just clicked. conversation flowed effortlessly between the both of you, and soon enough, the two of you were going on your first official date.

it was safe to say that robert had charmed you completely, he had you enamoured with him — infatuated, truly. he was a true gentleman, classy and organized, not to mention that he came from money. after a handful of very upscale, fancy, and luxurious dates, the two of you had began seeing each other regularly.

neither of you had put an actual "title," per se, on what you had going on between the two of you, but at this point in time — you didn't see the harm.

so that's the story of how you ended up in robert's luxury car, speeding down the roads of malibu whilst he took you on a weekend getaway here. far, far away from the city you two both resided in.

"i'm craving ice-cream," you said to robert while the two of you were stopped at a red light, "strawberry, specifically."

"what, like right now?" robert asked with a small chuckle, sighing as he admired your breathtaking beauty underneath the heat of the malibu sunshine.

"yes, like right now."

"okay, let's go get some then." robert decided, his baby blue eyes melting your heart as a smile tugged at his lips.

true to his word, robert drove the both of you to a nearby ice-cream shop, and got you your strawberry ice-cream — one spoon for two. that afternoon was spent sharing laughs, sweet kisses, and the strawberry ice-cream that you'd been craving.

even though robert came from money and had more than you'd ever thought someone could have, it wasn't his wealth and status that snagged your heart. it was him, just good old robert fischer. not his money, not his materialistic things, not his cars, no — just who he was.

robert was caring. he was so considerate, listened to you, and was always there for you when you needed him the most. it felt like he was yours, and you were his — and that's how things should've been.

that's how the story should have ended.

but you know what they say; all good things have to come to an end at some point.

"robert," you said breathlessly, "take this dress off of me, please."

"sweetheart," he whispered against your ear as he unzipped your designer dress, "you're so beautiful, you know that?"

"i love—" you paused, suddenly hyperaware of the words that were about to leave your mouth, "i love that you took me here."

you weren't sure if you should've said it — i love you, that is.

robert and you had been seeing each other for the entirety of the summer by the time he'd taken you to malibu, but again; to you it felt like more than a fling. you just weren't sure where he stood with this whole thing between you and him.

"anything for you, sweetheart. i'd do anything." robert replied softly, turning you around as he slipped you out of the dress.

stood in your lacy, white, la perla lingerie along with matching jimmy choo's and stockings (courtesy of robert, of course), you face him with a blush. "how does it look?" you ask shyly, to which robert smiles and sighs happily in bliss.

"you..." he whispered, trailing off for a moment, "you're just so perfect — how are you mine?"

"yours?"

"mine, and mine only, sweetheart. don't ever forget it."

you'd soon come to never forget it — just not in the way you'd hoped.

robert took your hand in his gently, guiding you to the huge, king-sized, luxurious bed in his miami penthouse. no hotels over here; this is robert fischer were talking about — he owned homes down here.

you found your way into his bed, laid up in the pile of silk pillows, as robert found his way between your legs with his hands wrapped up in your hair. he kissed you passionately with a hunger that you'd never seen from him before.

you took your time helping him out of his suit, being dainty and deliberate with your movements — maybe you felt like being a tease tonight. after you'd gotten him out of your clothes, your lacy bra was long gone, but his hands wandered down to the scrunched lace of your underwear.

"may i?" robert asked sweetly, his eyes darting between your pretty face and perky breasts, causing you to blush profusely.

"y-yes," you whimpered, "i can't wait anymore."

"god, when you say things like that — i don't think i can either, sweetheart." robert groaned softly, finally pulling down your white lace panties.

up until this point — you and robert hadn't actually had sex yet. you thought it was sweet; special, even. you thought he really liked you, that he didn't want to sleep with you until you felt ready. obviously, you took this as a sign that he deeply cared about you as a person, in more than just a "fling" way.

as his cock stretched you open perfectly, you arched your back and let out a soft moan, as did he. he started to move in and out of your soaking cunt gently, truly taking the time to make sure you were enjoying this as much as he was.

his cock was thick — it had you feeling fuller than you'd ever felt before from previous partners, and it felt like his cock was made for you. with the way it stretched your pussy out perfectly, hitting every spot just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with each thrust he gave you.

"so beautiful," robert praised through gritted teeth, "and so tight, fuck."

"r-right there! mmph!" you moaned softly as his cock brushed up against that spongy spot inside of you, causing your cunt to clench around him.

"right there? is that it, sweetheart?" robert cooed, making you nod feverishly.

"yeah," you said breathlessly, "right — f-fuck! gonna cum!"

"thaaaat's it, my pretty girl. drench my cock so i can fill you up with my cum." he encouraged, causing you to see stars as you came around his length.

your pretty little noises pushed robert over the edge a minute or two later, his hips snapping into your cunt as he fucked his cum into you. as you looked up at robert, he had a small smile on his face and his cheeks were dusty. you returned the smile, and he sighed as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his embrace tightly after he'd pulled out.

he whispered your name to you softly, causing you to stare up at him with admiration and love. "yeah?" you say softly, intertwining your hands with his as the two of you cuddled in between the sheets.

"i never want you to leave," he said, voice saccharine, "you mean so much to me, sweetheart."

"i—" you stammered, unsure if this was a good time to say it; but you figured it would be. especially after what he'd said to you, after the way he made love to you. "i love you, robert."

you smiled to yourself, but frowned when you realized you were just living in a memory — something that only existed in the past now. reality hit you like a freight train as you were brought back to your current situation; in the same bar you'd met robert at once months ago.

you weren't in miami with him anymore — you didn't even know who he was anymore; perhaps just a fragment of your past. you hadn't spoken since the end of august when the both of you had gotten back from your weekend getaway.

things had changed since then.

it was the middle of a bleak november evening, and the cold weather was depressing. summer had left as quickly as it had come.

"are you okay?" your friend asked as you sipped on your martini, looking as beautiful as ever — but for nobody in particular anymore. "that's your third drink, you sure you there's not something you want to talk about?"

"actually, there is," you say, turning to her as the two of you sat in a secluded little table in the corner of the bar, "doesn't she look familiar?"

as you pointed across from you, your friends eyes trailed along until they stopped at a woman who looked eerily similar to you.

she wore the same type of clothes that you did, down to the brand of high heels. her hair was the same colour as yours, so were her eyes, and not to mention she looked like she could be you if you didn't look too hard.

"looks like you found your doppelganger." your friend joked, nudging your arm but to her surprise, you didn't laugh — nor did you come close to even cracking a smile. "are you sure you're okay?"

"look at who she's with." you say bitterly, and your friend looked back at the woman to see that she was now accompanied by a man — a man who she knew as robert fischer.

at first, when robert walked into the bar on the crisp autumn night, you had to do a double take to make sure you were really seeing what you thought you had seen. once you'd confirmed it was him, you were about to grab your purse and drag your friend out of the bar with you — until you saw who he'd come with.

the woman hanging on his arm was a walking reflection of you; it was like everything was all reused. you silently hoped that maybe you weren't just another one of those girls who he pretended to care about; just saying whatever to get into their pants because they were just his type and nothing more.

but this woman couldn't just be his "type" — she was a mirror image of you.

"is that—?"

"yeah," you answered your friend, "it is."

"didn't he tell you that you guys couldn't see each other anymore because of his fathers passing?" she asked you, to which you nodded, throwing back the rest of your drink.

"i told him i loved him and he told me he didn't feel the same. after everything we did together and everything he said. after he called me his and his only — the thing with his father was just some excuse."

"what a piece of shit," your friend scoffed, "but it seems like he might still be thinking about you — i mean, it looks like he's looking for you in every other woman."

"do you think he gets deja vu when he's with her?" you suddenly ask, causing your friend to laugh softly.

"probably," she tells you, "i mean, who's to say he isn't going out with her just to feel like he has you again?"

"do you really think so?"

before your friend could answer your question, you heard your name being called as you both peered over at the sound. at first, your heart dropped because of the familiar voice that had called out your name — but when you looked over at him, you almost flatlined on the spot.

he hadn't even realized you were at the bar, and that's when it hit you — she even had the same name as you, which made everything ten times worse? or awkward? or weird?

"oh shit," your friend said with shock, "she has the same name as you, too. you can't tell me my theory isn't true now."

"my god." you whisper, feeling at a loss for words in this very moment as you watched the two of them together.

he had his arm wrapped around her waist the same way he used to do with you, but the way he looked at her was completely different. there was something missing in his once lively, baby blue eyes — he seemed so blank. like he was there but also, he wasn't really.

you overheard fragments of their conversations; they were talking about the songs you two used to listen to together, and he told her all about how those were "his favourite songs." you also heard him tell some familiar jokes — the same jokes you two used to laugh about.

back when he was yours for the time being.

"i'm going home, you coming?" you ask your friend, swallowing hard as you felt yourself become teary-eyed.

"yeah, yeah, i'm coming."

as you both made your way to the exit, you took one last look back at robert and his new girl, just to get one last glance — but when you looked back at him, he was already looking at you.

time stopped for a minute, and you'd sworn you'd never seen someone look so full of regret in all your years of living. every time you thought he was going to look away, he didn't. he continued to look at you as if you were otherworldly — as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing in that very bar.

but you reminded yourself of the heartache he caused you.

so, with a heavy heart, you walked out of the bar as you turned away from him, letting him relive the past and linger in the feeling of deja vu.

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer

@aprilsfrog05 @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii @stsrfujid

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little-emerald-snake · 2 months ago

Text

Kinktober

Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics - Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

🔥NSFW🔞MDNI

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, mating, biting, breeding, extremely light blood mention, heat, knotting, implied rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie

1303 words

(banner made by me)

Ominis’ family had bought her for him. Omegas were extremely rare in the wizarding world. Pure blood omegas, even rarer. So when they’d presented her for their alpha son he was not only shocked but slightly angry they’d bought an omega girl, expecting them to simply get along and bond, to form a relationship.

The expectation was to breed more pure blooded children to carry on the Gaunt name. A task Ominis hated with a passion. And while she seemed to beam with happiness and sunshine while they were together, he despised the whole idea and often found himself faking a smile for her benefit.

What finally tipped him over was the first night she’d stayed over at the Gaunt manor. Snuggled in his bed against his side in the most innocent way possible all night long as they spoke of dreams and aspirations. But the next morning his mother had to ruin it by producing a small pink gift bag that contained a little green onesie with a cartoon snake.

He raged inside, finding it wholly inappropriate that his parents would do such a thing to her, making it very clear their expectations for the night had been some form of intercourse between them. But he softened when he heard her beaming smile and loving verbal appreciation for the gift. His heart fluttered as his twisted angry thoughts melded into her holding a sweet little baby…their…sweet little baby.

His stomach flipped a little as he let himself imagine her hands on his body, what they’d have to do to make a baby. Hands in her hair, teeth in her neck, grinding and rutting into her, the scent of her heat, her slick, marking her, claiming her, her cries and moans for him.

Suddenly he felt all eyes were on him, the overpowering alpha scent rolling off of him in waves. He cleared his throat, crossing his legs to hide his erection. “Sorry about that. We erm, obviously don’t have to start trying for a pup now. Don’t let her pressure you, darling.”

Ominis’ mother excused herself upon seeing the look on the omegas face as she picked up on his alpha scent. “No, it's fine. Especially when you smell like that.”

Ominis raised a brow, the sweet and subtle hint of her arousal making itself evident in the air. Was she attracted to his scent? Was his scent really arousing her and making her smell this way?

He smiled, standing up and crossing the room to wrap an arm around her waist and tug her closer. “You like my scent, omega? Is it making you excited for me?”

She made a small sound in the back of her throat, causing Ominis to tighten his hold on her, lifting her hair from her neck so he could press his nose against her skin. “You smell so delicious, little omega. I bet you taste even better.”

She whimpered softly, tipping her neck for him and exposing her soft neck. He groaned in return, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist and sliding his tongue along the column of her neck, causing her to shiver.

He teased his teeth over her scent gland where he’d place her mating bite, growling against her skin. “Is this what you want, pretty omega? You want me to claim you as my own and mate you?”

She whimpered, nodding wantonly. Her thighs parting as he backed her against the wall, slipping his thigh between them and grinding it against her, thankful she was wearing a skirt.

She keened and it was music to his ears. He drug his teeth over her neck again and her back arched, pressing herself closer to his heated body. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding herself on his thigh.

He groaned when he realized she was producing enough slick to have soaked through her underwear, dampness now soiling his trousers. “Such a good girl, your brilliant body getting you all nice and wet for our coupling.”

Things were moving fast and he’d had enough, pulling her away from the wall and moving her to bend over the arm of a nearby chair. She went pliant and willing, moaning for him. “Such a good girl, so needy for me already. You’ll make a lovely mate, gorgeous once you're plump and round with my pup.”

She keened, arching her back even as she stayed bent over the back of the couch obediently. “Ominis, love, I can’t wait anymore. Please…please make it feel better.”

The overwhelming scent of her finally triggered something in his brain and he realized. He’d sent her into a full blown heat. He groaned, loving the fact that his alpha hormones were enough to send her into her heat.

Family bullshit be damned, every last bit of his instincts wanted to fill her with a pup so that no other alpha could ever get a chance to smell her like this.

He growled, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her up the stairs to his room. He laid her gently on the bed before scrambling to lock his bedroom door, determined not to be interrupted by anyone as he claimed his mate.

He moved swiftly back to her, senses guiding his every move as he prowled over her on the bed. His hands landed on either side of her head caging her in. He could smell the moment she parted her legs for him, her slick overpowering against his senses. She was soaking wet, a keening mess under him.

It was driving him up the wall as he slid between her legs, rolling his hips against her. By now she was mumbling incoherently about needing his knot. He was all too happy to give in to her needs, shoving her skirt up around her waist and hurriedly pulling her underwear down and off over the side of his bed.

Letting his instincts lead he clumsily lined himself up, groaning at her slick heat as he slid himself through her fluids. “Y-you’re soaking wet darling, do you want me that badly?”

She gripped the bed sheets, whining and nodding frantically and he groaned with anticipation. It took some finagling due to how much slick she was producing but he finally slipped in, enticing a moan from each of them.

She cried out for him, arms wrapping around his neck as he held himself up on his elbows, thrusting into her slick, tight channel. His voice shook with need. “Good girl, good fucking girl, taking me so good just like this. Gonna m-make you mine and fill you with a pup. My pup. Our pup.”

Her head tipped back with a cry of ecstasy and he rut harder into her, taking advantage of her exposed neck and biting into the spot just where her neck met her shoulder.

She cried out loudly as their bond solidified through his mating bite in her neck. He felt like cold water and sparking fire rushing through her veins all at once. Her body convulsed in pleasure, sparks tingling all the way from where his teeth penetrated her neck to where their bodies joined down below.

His thrusts grew rough and choppy as he pulled her tighter against him, his swelling knot beginning to catch on each thrust. He licked the small trickle of blood from his mating bite, grunting and gasping with each thrust inside her pliant walls.

Her heels locked around his waist and she gasped as she found herself rushing over the edge of a hot waterfall of pleasure, back arching, stomach twisting and with one final thrust he was locked inside of her by the base of his swollen knot. Shot after shot of thick cum filling her full as they ride out the aftershocks, panting through the post orgasmic bliss.

Kinktober prompts

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt smut #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #little emerald snake

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mxtantrights · 9 months ago

Text

swept away, I’m stolen

a/n: and we’re back! Kind of. I don’t plan on writing more for this at the moment. Seeing as this was supposed to be just a one shot (I lied to myself here we are) I just wanted to have some fun now within this little universe I made. Writing a down bad Azriel is just *chef’s kiss* and I couldn’t leave you hanging like that.

Azriel x magic!fem!reader

The sun feels weird. It has since you came back home. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. It’s like every time you go to lay out in the sun it feels wrong. Wrong. That’s the word. You suck you teeth and sit up on your elbows.

In front of you, down the hill, the children from summer were playing in the water. The way they play with water is different from the kids in day. These kids have more intricate water fights.

After completing both your missions Helion told you to go on vacation. Well, told is putting it prettily. He ordered you to go on vacation. He packed most of your things. He locked you out of your room and he knows how much you hate sleeping in the guest rooms.

It’s not like you were running away from anything. Lucien hadn’t scheduled a visit yet. It was taking a toll on Helion, he wouldn’t talk about it but he didn’t need to. You’ve known him long enough to know the dips his brow and the worry lines around his lips were because of his son’s absence.

And then there was the Azriel thing.

You don’t want to go back to the night court. But you do want to see him again. The way you two left things after he talked with you in your room that morning felt unfinished.

Which is precisely why you’re here, in the summer court. Soaking up the sun, trying to forget about all of your problems at the moment so that you might find a solution.

You couldn’t stand being home when you felt this way. You’re thankful Helion made you come here. You close your eyes again and try to call on the heat of the sun.

All of a sudden, instead of the mild warmth of the sun on your face you felt cold. You open your eyes and you find the culprit. A short red haired culprit.

“Is that a fox I see?” You joke with a smile.

Eris smiles back at you, “It is. Don’t you know foxes like to bathe in the sun?”

“You never could do it with me.” You answer.

You watch as he takes a seat next to you. Eris always has this way of fitting in anywhere. An Autumn male through and through but that’s because he has his duty to the throne. He sits back on his elbows too, and turns to you.

“Slander. I’ll have you know lying against me is a crime.” He jokes.

You nod your head with a laugh, “I bet you’ll leave in five minutes.”

Then it hits you. Why is he here? Eris surely couldn’t afford to trot around on vacation. His father, ever the best parent, would not allow it. Seeing anyone happy but him makes all the blood vessels in his body combust.

“Eris, how are you here right now?” You ask.

He turns away from you.

“I winnowed.”

“You are so annoying you know that is not what I meant.” You say, turning back to face the kids once again.

“I like getting under your skin, sunshine.”

“Don’t call me that either, flame-thrower.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while. It’s nice. Peaceful. To anyone else it might perplex them. The sight of Eris sitting next to someone and not scowling or frowning. But to you it’s not that odd of an occurrence.

“I have to throw my father off my scent.” Eris finally answers.

“Oh? Anything interesting?” You ask.

“Yes, and I have you to thank for that.”

You look at him again. He was here because his next stop is the day court. And you doubt Eris would just go to the day court without a reason.

Lucien.

He may not have scheduled a meeting but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to see his father. You smile to yourself. You’re glad that he was able to do it after all.

“You knew, didn’t you?” You ask him.

Eris nods his head, “Lucien had a little slip up when we were kids. A display of powers that wouldn’t have come form Beron or our mother.”

“You protected him.” You put simply.

“I just helped him.” Eris shrugs.

Always the humble servant. You turn back again. The kids are starting to leave now. The water beginning to rest as they do. You were planning on going in after they left.

You sit up properly and start taking off your light shawl.

“As much as I am flattered…” Eris trails off.

“We shared one kiss as blushing adolescents.” You laugh.

You stand up now and turn your back toward the sun. He takes your figure in. He wouldn’t be Eris if he didn’t. You throw your shawl at him, he catches it easily and puts it to the side.

“It was a kiss nonetheless.” He adds.

You spin around and begin taking off down the hill. The wind whipping past you and against your skin. You legs take you all the way to the water. The cold hits your feet first. Then you wade in deeper.

When you turn around to find Eris, he’s gone. Like the apparition he claims to be to everyone. Keeping up with the rumors, you guess. You can’t help this gnawing feeling inside of you though.

That even though you turned around, and Eris was the one you were talking to moments before, you wanted it to be someone else…

TWO DAYS LATER

The bell on the door rings out through the shop. You huff out a breath and get yourself ready. You were helping one of the shop owners, Deji, white he was out to lunch. It was the least you could do in exchange for taking surfing lessons.

Deji wanted to give the lessons to you for free. But after you explained to him that your job title pays you quite handsomely he let you pay him some money. You felt it wasn’t enough so you let him put you to work.

A vacation where you had to work is weird but you don’t consider it work. You consider it a new experience.

“I’ll be right with you!” You yell out.

With the crate of wax used for the boards in your hands you walked from the back of the store to the front. You set it down on the empty counter top and turn to greet the guest.

Safe to say you were not expecting Azriel.

You’re glad you set the box down, you might have dropped it because of the surprise standing a few feet away from you. He was here. Right there. How was he here?

“Hi.” He says first.

You smirk, “Only one word for me?”

He chuckles at that. It feels nice to hear the sound again. You didn’t think you’d hear it this soon.

“It’s nice to see you again.” He corrects himself.

You nod your head. You bring your hand behind your back, at least this way you can wring your fingers in peace. Why were you so nervous all of a sudden?

“It’s really nice to see you too. Are you on a mission?” You speak.

“In a sense. It’s hard to explain.”

Ah. So he is here on a mission. Maybe he came here to ask you for the blade again. You actually don’t have it on you right now. You had to hand it over to Helion as per the deal of this vacation.

“Well I don’t have the blade so if—“ you start

“I’m not here for the blade.” He cuts you off.

“Good.” You answer.

Azriel is about to say something else when the bell rings out again. Both of you turn your attention to the person who just walked in. It’s Deji. Which means if he’s back you can leave for the day.

Deji looks at the shadow singer and greets him. He offers him a handshake which Azriel takes. You come form around the selling table and over to Azriel.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Deji says to you.

Deji moves in front of you, and you position yourself in front of Azriel.

You can tell by the way he said it that he’s picking up on something. Maybe he thinks Azriel is your friend. Or maybe he’s thinking something else. Either way your insides are churning.

“Yes yes, see you tomorrow Deji.” You say, hands still behind your back.

Deji smiles and walk over to the selling table. In the time that he does that, Azriel grabs your hand from behind your back. It stills you. No Still it not the right word to use. It calms you. Yeah, that’s it. Without another word Azriel is leading you out of the store, hand in hand. You look at your hands joined together. Fingers intertwined. You follow behind him wordlessly. He walks from the shop and down the little paths to the beach. You can barely see anything with his wings and shadows in the way.

And yet his hand never leaves yours.

The two of you walk like that without another word said until you reach a new place. One of the many beaches that you haven’t visited quite yet. There aren’t many people lingering around either. A few groups of people spread out on the sand and people in the water.

Azriel walks on the sand but you stop him. He turns around.

“I don’t want sand in my shoes.” You say as you reach down and undo them.

Azriel chuckles softly to himself and does the same. He holds his shoes in one hand, your hand in the other. You hold your shoes in your free hand. Azriel leads you onto the beach.

A bit away from the people there, he stops at a spot. Just a few feet from the water. You move to his side and look out into the distance. There’ nothing for miles. This must be the beach that faces the long ocean, away from the other courts.

You feel his thumb brush back and forth against the back of your hand. Like it did the day you left the night court. You can feel the heavy weight of that day come back to you ever so slowly.

You look over at him.

“I’m sorry for the way I left.” You speak.

His throat bobs. He doesn’t turn to look at you. Maybe he doesn’t want to speak about it. You don’t know what he wants. You don’t know what you want either.

“It’s okay, I understand why you left the way you did.” He replies.

“Doesn’t make it right. It’s not like you were to blame for everything.” You add.

“But I could have said something.” He says.

He finally, finally, turns to look at you now. He doesn’t look as sad as that day. Or maybe he’s gotten used to wearing his sadness. You still can’t understand what brought him to tears that day. There was no way you being mad at him made the shadow singer fall apart like that.

“I have to ask you something, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” You say.

“I’ll do my best for you.” He replies.

You squeeze his hand, “When I left, and you were overcome with emotions. What was that really about?”

He sighs and looks back at the view in front of him. You stuck a nerve. You decide to keep looking at him. You don’t know if this conversation will go horribly wrong and if this will be the last time you speak to him. You don’t know what the future holds.

“It was about you. It still is. You are the first person in a very long time that has made me feel less of a monster and more like a living creature with feelings.” He explains to you.

“You think of yourself as a monster?” you ask.

He scoffs, “I know about the rumors.”

“And?”

“And?” He asks you back.

“If I let the rumors about me weigh me down I wouldn’t get out of bed every morning.” You answer his question.

You take this moment to stand in front of him. Your hands still intertwined. His eyes move to you from the distance of the perfectly blue ocean. “Sometimes I can’t help but let it weigh me down. And you leaving, just reminded me of who I am to everyone. Who I have chosen to be for most of my life.” He says.

“Who are you when you’re with me?” You ask.

Azriel can’t fight off the smile that forms on his face. You like that you are able to make him smile. You like that this sadness that coats him like a blood stain seems to wash away with the words you say.

“I don’t know, but I want to figure it out.” He answers you.

“I want that too.” You smile.

Azriel pulls you in to him. The two of you slot together turning on a light. So much science goes into the light but it looks so easily done. With your body pressing against his you can’t help but feel like something really did click between you two.

A WEEK LATER You think you might have upset him. Not totally, but at certain intervals. He’s fine whenever you spend time together outside of the vacation house. You decided to let Azriel share a space with you instead of living two places that were across the city.

There were three rooms, so it’s not like the two of you would have to share a bed. He got one room. You got another. It was nice. You could run into him in the living room, or in the backyard, or in the kitchen. And he would smile at you and join in whatever you were doing, or invite you to join him.

But something strange is happening to Azriel.

Every single time you offer to stay in and have food, he declines. Either he’s busy and needs to go somewhere. Or he’s already placed an order for food someplace else. Or he doesn’t feel in the mood for home cooking and just wants to go out. Which are all fine reasons, you didn’t think too much of it.

Until now.

Right now Azriel is making food for the evening. After you told him that you would be working with Deji to complete orders at his shop. Well, you came back earlier than both of you expected. Deji thought there was more work to do but underestimated how quickly four hands and two brains word.

You’re watching from outside the house. You feel like a creep but you were proven right about your suspicions. Through the kitchen window you can see him mixing something in a bowl.

This has to end, you think to yourself. You don’t want this to fester and become something ugly. You talk yourself up and walk over to the door. You unlock it with your keys and head inside.

As you cross the threshold you hear moving from the kitchen. Frantic moving. You really don’t hope that he’s trying to get rid the food he’s clearly making because you came home earlier than he expected.

You rush into the kitchen. Azriel’s shadows are everywhere, trying to hide the mess he’s created. Their master is looking right at you, something being hidden behind his back. No doubt the bowl he was just mixing.

“Azriel?” You shout.

“You’re back early.” He says.

You look around the kitchen. The spices are out. There are multiple pans in the sink. Flour is coating the kitchen counter.

“Do I get to eat any of what you’re making?” You ask.

“No!” He shouts.

You step back a bit at his volume. You watch as he takes in your reaction. It takes him less than a few seconds to put the bowl down and walk over to you. He holds on to your arms, you can feel the sticky substance of something on your skin now.

“I’m sorry. I’m just that I'm not that good of a cook. I wouldn’t want you to get sick or something.” He explains.

You nod your head, even though you’re not following a word he’s saying to you, “I can take over if you’d like.”

“You can’t—I mean, I already started and you just came back from work you should relax.” He continues.

You squint your eyes at him. He doesn’t want you to eat what he’s making, he won’t even allow you to make something for him—oh.

He has a mate.

Cooking for someone else, someone who is not his mate, might be murky waters. Every bond is different. But maybe that’s just how his is.

You don’t want to think about how defeated you feel by your own conclusion. You don’t want to, but you do. Your eyes soften a bit.

“I’m so sorry if I offended you. I won’t ask about it again.” You say.

Azriel cocks his head to the side, “What just happened here?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You put simply.

Then you’re stepping back. Azriel lets his hands fall away from you. You turn around and head down the hallway to your room. You open your door and put yourself on the other side of it with bated breath.

Were you just reading it all wrong? Maybe he just wanted to be your friend. He didn’t want anything romantic to do with you. How could he when he has a mate?

You take off your shoes and crawl into bed. Suddenly vacation is starting to feel doomed.

TWO DAYS LATER

Things have been awkward to say the least. You got work early in the morning and busy yourself. And if you get done early you make sure you have other places to be. The beach, the shops, anywhere that is not the vacation house. Anywhere where Azriel isn’t sure to be.

A part of you feel terrible for doing it, but another part of you is embarrassed. You practically made him move into the same house as you, you pulled him around the summer court to all types of places. You let your eyes drift from his face to his body whenever he was shirtless!And all the while he probably wanted to do all of that stuff with the person he loves.

“Mother, you are hard to track down.” His voice calls from behind you.

You turn around quickly, not expecting it or him. You’re standing in the water, new day means new beach.

He’s standing right behind you. Shirtless. Of course it’s a beach, and he’s in the water. You keep your eyes from drifting any further. You can’t look him in the eye for too long.

When you don’t move to say anything, Azriel takes a step closer. You take one back. This catches his attention fairly quickly.

“Did I do something?” He asks.

“No.” You answer.

He rolls his eyes, “Are we really back to this? Again?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but to look at his arms. Arms you shouldn’t be looking at. Arms that don’t belong to you. Arms that want to hold another person—a person who is not you.

“How long is your mission?” You ask him this time.

He shrugs his shoulders causally.

“There is no duration on my mission.” He answers.

“Don’t you want to go home? Don’t you miss it?” you try again.

Because maybe, just maybe, he can let you go. Right here, right now. He can end this illusion. You felt like the feelings you have towards him were reciprocated. But now, you know that even if they are they can’t be. He has someone waiting for him at home. You couldn’t stand in the way of that, willingly or unwillingly.

“Why are you asking me that? I told you how I feel back there,” He says.

“Yes you did, but do you really think your mate sees you as a monster?” You retort.

He looks at you confused. His hands fall to his sides. There it is. Now it’s out in the open. You don’t want to leave on bad terms, you don’t want to leave at all. But this is just some illusion. And you can’t break your heart trying to keep it alive.

“What are you talking about?” He questions.

You wrap your arms around yourself.

“I’m talking about why you wouldn’t let me cook for you. And why you wouldn’t let me have the food you cooked the other night.” You clarify for him.

He’s silent. And it shatters you more than anything. You can feel it deep inside of you. Your stomach feels like it’s tightening and unravelling all at once.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to do this.” He speaks.

“How to cheat on your mate?” You ask, your voice getting louder.

You were getting angry. He’s acting like he’s not doing something wrong here, with you. Like he doesn’t have someone back home who loves him. Who is probably worried about him.

“No. That’s not what’s happening here. I promise you.” He says.

“Then why are you here?!” You shout.

“Because of you!” He shouts back.

“You said you weren’t here for the blade—” You say.

“I’m not mated to the blade, I’m mated to you!”

You watch as he can’t seem to catch his breath. Mated to you? You and Azriel? You didn’t feel anything. You still don’t feel anything. You slowly wade in the water over to him. What is six steps actually feels like a lifetime.

His eyes meet yours. He looks just as nervous as when you left the night court. You realize it now for what it was. He was emotional because his mate was leaving him. You don’t know when he felt the bond snap, but you know it was before that morning.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring it on you, but I could feel you through the bond. Your sadness and I couldn’t take it, it actually hurts to feel you so sad. And I—“ he rambles.

You don’t cut him off with words. In this frightening but equally exciting situation words wouldn’t do it justice. So you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him.

He lets out a choked breath. Once and then twice. Then you feel his hand hesitantly on the small of your back. You think about the time where you hugged him and he hugged you back without a second thought.

It must have been torture.

“When?” You ask him so quietly, he might not have even heard you.

“Seconds before you saved my life.” He answers you.

His arms wrap around you now, fully. It brings you impossibly closer to him. You feel his voice from his chest, vibrating against you.

“Is that why you kept asking me about it. You thought I felt it too?” You ask.

He can only hum his answer. His head in the crook of your neck.

“And that’s why you didn’t want me to cook.” You say.

“I know it’s not exactly the same thing but I didn’t want you to think I tricked you.” He explains.

You pull back from him a little bit. As you do you see the hesitation written all over his face. You reach up with your hand and caress the side of his face.

“It’s okay.” You whisper.

You duck your head back into his chest. And you can hear him let out a breath. The water feels warm and so does he. This might have been the feeling you were searching for after coming home from the mission.

And it’s all because of Azriel.

ONE YEAR LATER

“It has to be dark so we can hide!” A voice says.

You press your ear against the wooden door. Inside the room were no doubt your students.

Things have changed since you took that vacation to the summer court. You decided on a lot of things.

The first being, that you would not longer guard the day blade anymore. That was a actually the first change you made once you got back to the day court. You asked Thesan if there was another way to guard the blade but still retain your role.

Of course he figured something out. Which was easy really. Hiding it in plain sight. The sun blade was made of one of the hottest tendrils of the sun, why not return it to it’s creation place?

“If you don’t be quiet she’ll find us!” Another voice yells.

You hold in your snicker.

And then came the kids. They are part of an exchange program between day and summer. Something about court relations being at an all time high and other things. All you knew is one day you woke up and were greeted with three children resting at the edge of your bed like it were normal. It was interesting to get used to.

The three kids had been the ones you saw around the summer court. You’re closest to them out of everyone else. Those three followed you everywhere and told you practically everything.

“Can the both of you find another spot? You’re so loud!” a younger voice says.

You open the door and the room is thrown into darkness. Black shadows fill the room an in instant.

There was also that. Well, not a ‘that’, but a him. Azriel.

While he is still the ever scary shadow singer and mercenary of the night court, he does have time for normal things. Like taking a break from his duties at times. This is one of those times.

He showed up in the day court a few days ago. Something about unused vacation days and the house being too crowded and missing you. You liked the last detail a lot.

You look around the room, playing along, “I could have sworn this room wasn’t that dark. Where are the lights?”

You move over to the window facing wall and reach for the light switch. When you flick it up and down and nothing changes you fake a dramatic sigh.

“I guess I’ll have to find another way to light this very dark room.” You say.

You raise your hand and call on the light from outside. You know already that Azriel has caught on because the darkness that is encasing the room is fading away. Slowly you see a bunch of your students all hidden in plain sight. They knew the darkness would hide them, that Azriel would hide them. Once they see you and you see them completely, all of them jump out of their hiding places.

Azriel is standing near the farthest wall from you. When your eyes lock with his you feel it. The snap of the bond.

You thought it would be like fireworks or a storm. But it’s the opposite. It’s like all the noises around you quiet down to a hum. You can’t suppress the smile that forms and burns your cheeks.

Azriel is looking at you now with wide eyes. A smile quickly forms on his face too.

“You found us!” One girl shouts.

It breaks you out of the trance.

She runs up to you and throws her arms around you. You hug her back while still keeping an eye on the other students. They were all coming up to you slowly.

You smile, “That I did. I think that means we can have an early lunch.”

They all cheer. The little girl lets go of you and nods her head eagerly. Of course. The only other ting these children liked half as much as playing around was eating.

“Can you all walk nicely to the dinning room and sit in your seats?” You ask them.

They all agree and walk in two lines out of the room. You turn and watch the go out the door.

You don’t feel him sneak up on you until he wrap his arms around your waist. His head in the crook of your neck. He places a feather soft kiss there, which makes you lean back into him.

“Azriel, did you feel it too?” You ask him.

“I did,” he says, “but that doesn’t mean we have to rush into anything. We can take our time.”

You turn around in his hold to face him. He looks at you with that cheesy grin on his face. Slowly you reach your hands into his hair. He hums as your fingers scratch his scalp.

It’s a sight you’ve seen multiple times now. And it’s not like the two of you are abstaining from anything. Thesan has almost caught you more than once making out or in a very compromising position.

Azriel is a giver, that’s for sure.

But this feeling its—

Ravishing. That’s what Nesta and Feyre called it. You had started talking to them again. Mainly looking for advice because they were the only two mated fae you knew of.

Well, you guess that’s not totally true. Elaine is mated. But she and Lucien are, whatever they are. And you still didn’t really get along with her. It’s not like the two of you are feuding, but you’re just not checking for her.

Amren called this feeling a bunch of other words—ones that made you half nervous and half lustful. And you think she did that on purpose, just to get under your skin. Or get you to get under Azriel’s skin more like it.

And that’s what you want right now.

You lean in, his lips just mere inches away from yours. He leans in more to cut the distance but you pull back just a bit.

“Lock the door.” you whisper.

You hear the door lock on it’s own. No doubt one of his shadows. You don’t care really what locked the door. Only that it’s locked and now you have him all to yourself without a chance of interruption.

Cutting the distance is easy then. Azriel’s hand snakes to the back of your head and is bringing you closer than close. You found it fairly quickly that if the two of you are alone there are no pecks. It’s open season for Azriel.

His tongue explores your mouth.

His other free hand explores your body. A brush against your thigh as a particular sound coming from you. Azriel pulls away just for a few seconds.

“I like that sound.” He says with a wide smile.

He looks good like this. Hair all tasseled. You hadn’t even realized you did that. His lips look bitten and have a slight pink tint to them. You bring your hand over to his face, your thumb brushing against his lips.

You laugh to yourself, "I know you do. Wanna go to the house?"

Azriel nods along to your every word. It makes you laugh a bit more.

The house.

On his second trip to the day court, Azriel purchased a house. He had initially said it was so that he didn't suffocate you while he was here. Which you told him straight up that could never happen. But he insisted.

You're so glad he did.

All of a sudden the scenery around you changes. You're no longer in one of the many rooms in the day court palace. You're in the house you now share with Azriel. You haven't called it home yet but you know it's only a matter of time.

Azriel lifts you up by the backs of your thighs. He hauls you up in his arms. Your arms, stay around his neck. You're staring right at him, like he might disappear any second now.

He's maneuvering his way through the door and shutting it close with his foot. You can't help how happy you feel for guarding the blade. If you hadn't you wouldn't have Azriel.

#acotar x reader #acotar fic #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fic

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