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foli-vora · 3 years

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reflections

masterlist

A/N: I’m back, baby! This is completely self indulgent because I’m feeling shitty about my bod, who better to help than certified soft boi Marcus? This is dedicated to all the goddesses who sometimes struggle with remembering that they have the body of a bad bitch, regardless of what it looks like or what society tells you it should be. I love you.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: insecurities, body image issues, SMUT 18+ ONLY - body worship, unprotected p in v, I may have cried writing this no I won’t apologise

It was one of those days.

Your clothes didn’t feel right on your body, clumping in certain spots and hanging wrong everywhere else. The reflection in the bathroom mirror showed someone desperately trying to piece together what was left – a bit of extra serum here, a heavier swipe of makeup there, as if it would all come together in the end and you’d be able to walk around with your head held high.

It didn’t work.

How you landed Marcus Pike, you’ll never know, and it’s that thought that festers, ugly and unyielding, in your mind throughout the entire day and well into dinner.

He watches you from across the table as he eats, head tilting when he quickly catches onto the fact that you’re unusually quiet, reserved, curling in on yourself and pushing the food around your plate instead of enthusiastically diving in like you normally do when he cooks.

“Is everything okay?” His voice is soft, his gentle probing so much more different from previous partners and their passive aggressive ‘What’s wrong with you?’.

Your eyes find him, flickering across his face creased with concern, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as you force a little smile. It doesn’t sit right on your face. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

He knows you’re lying, knows from the sudden shine in your eyes that something’s bothering you, something’s hurting, but he lets it rest for now, sensing your discomfort from miles away and instead choosing to reach a hand across the table to fold softly over yours as he fills the silence with the goings on of his day.

You don’t eat.

He doesn’t comment on it.

He hides when he hears you tidying in the kitchen, thinking he was already getting ready for bed. He watches you swipe away the food on your plate with a quiet sniff, the back of your hand quickly catching a lone tear that streaks down your face, and then he knows.

You pull at your shirt, shift uncomfortably in your tight pants – his favourite – and he knows.

Heart breaking for you, Marcus makes sure to make a noise as he enters, smiling softly when you jump and laugh quietly. You force a smile, turning your back to him to start washing dishes when warm hands cover yours in the soapy water, a body pressing up close behind you.

“Take a shower with me?” He asks into the hot skin of your throat, kissing softly below your ear as he sways with your body gently. A habit of his – always swaying to music that isn’t there. The music of your love, he liked to say. The cheesy idiot.

You want to say no, he can feel it in the way your body tenses.

“I had one earlier.”

He leaves it, nodding against your cheek in understanding before kissing it softly and fading away upstairs. He takes your composure with him, and you can’t help but cry as you finish up the dishes.

You really don’t deserve him. He was far too good for you.

The ugly thought that had long settled in your mind, suddenly sprouts into something bigger. It fills you, the unworthiness, and your chest tightens as you fight off the heavier sobs, struggling to swallow around the lump lodged in your throat from the effort of keeping it all at bay. You’d save them for later, when he’s oblivious and lost in dreams.

You must have taken longer than you thought because he’s already pottering around the room in his pyjamas by the time you make your way upstairs, dark hair dripping small droplets of water onto the collar of his comfy tee. He never dries his hair properly. Usually you’d do it for him – cover his head with a towel and rub it vigorously until he’s unsteady, chest heaving from the laughter muffled by the fabric.

Not tonight.

He watches sadly as you retrieve your pyjamas and head for the bathroom, head downcast.

“Hey,”

You stop instantly, a small smile twisting your lips uncomfortably as you turn to raise a brow at him.

“Come here.”

When you get to him, he quickly steers you to the full-length mirror by the walk-in closet and shushes your quiet refusal, standing close to you as you both appear in the reflection.

“Look.” He says.

You frown at him in the reflection, “What?”

“Look.”

And so you do.

You can’t help the sting of more tears in your raw eyes as they roll over your body, automatically drawn in to the bits you don’t like and picking them to pieces in your mind. He watches intently, heart breaking even more in his chest with every second he watches resentment fill your features.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your head shakes. It’s automatic. Can’t he see out of those gorgeous brown eyes?

His voice remains gentle, “Stop it – look.”

His fingers gently fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he’s pulling it up, careful as he pries it from your body and slides it over your head. Your arms automatically go to cross over your chest, to cover the suddenly exposed skin, but he doesn’t have it.

“No.”

His hands are warm on your shoulders, palms soft as they rub soothingly up and down your arms, and you don’t bother hiding the sadness anymore. Why bother? He already knows.

“What were those affirmations from your new year resolution?”

You snort before you can help it. “They were bullshit –”

He didn’t think so. You were all about them for the first few weeks – writing them in your journal, saying them in the mirror while he watched from behind the shower curtain. You even made him write some down and they’re still stuck to the side of his computer screen in his office.

“What were they? And look at yourself when you say them.”

You heave a sigh, eyes rolling from his to meet your own in the reflection. “I am strong.”

He mhm’s softly into your neck, chin resting softly on your shoulder. “And?”

“I am powerful.”

“Incredibly so. And?”

“I am beautiful.”

“Yeah, you are. Now again.”

“Marcus –”

“Again.”

You do as he asks, heart thundering in your chest as his hands smooth down along your torso and across the skin of your stomach, wrapping you up in his arms as he watches you. He turns you once you finish, hand tenderly smoothing along your cheek before cupping your jaw.

“I know this won’t fix it, I know what you’re feeling goes deeper than this, and I know nothing I do will take your pain away, but will you let me try, honey?”

His thumbs sweep under your eyes, brushing away the tears that had fallen from your lashes, and you smile, heart thundering in your chest as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

You really didn’t deserve Marcus Pike, but God were you lucky.

“I love you.”

He grins, eyes shining, “I love you.”

A part of you says no, no he doesn’t, but then his hands gently cradle your face and bring your lips to his, and you’re lost in the slow movements of his kiss, unaware he was backing you up to the bed until the backs of your knees hit the sides and you’re falling back onto it with a startled giggle.

You try to fight off the wave of hesitation when he goes for the button of your jeans and relax, but he can feel your reluctance, always so attuned to you and what you were feeling. He pauses, fingers stopping their movements as he looks at you.

“It’s okay.” You don’t know why you’re whispering. It’s just so quiet in the bedroom, so still, maybe you were afraid of shattering the silence.

He continues then, slipping the button through the loop and pulling your fly down before he grabbing the denim and dragging it softly down your legs. You lift your hips, shimmy a little to get them past your thighs and smile at his soft expression when he settles on his knees between your legs after throwing your jeans to the floor.

There was something magical about being the sole focus of Marcus Pike’s attention. Your skin hums under his gentle touch, goosebumps following the path of his fingers as they dance softly over your body. You don’t shy away from his open gaze; don’t cross your arms over your chest and try to hide your thighs like your mind is screaming at you to do. You just simply lay among the pillows, letting his eyes crawl over every inch of you.

And there’s no disgust hiding anywhere on his face. No flicker of repulsion. No curl of the nose or judgement in his gaze.

It’s pure admiration, pure awe.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You want to scoff, you know that’s not the truth – the planet is full of drop-dead stunning women – but the longer he stares at you, looking all over your body and straight into your wide eyes, you think maybe he’s not lying… maybe there is a tiny bit of truth to his statement and, well, what’s the harm in believing it? If only just for a little while.

So you smile, heart beating wildly when he grins in return, eyes soft as he reaches back and pulls his tee off in one smooth swipe, and then moves to hover carefully over you. You welcome the soothing heat of his skin as he presses into you, hands greedily grabbing at his back as trails his lips across the skin of your jaw, nipping softly at your throat before he moves to your lips.

It’s easy to lose yourself in his steady stream of affection, your mind all but blanking as he steals the breath from your lungs, his tongue taking the last of any coherent thoughts as it moves along your own. He swallows your whimper and presses further into you, grinding his hips slowly into yours and relishing in your quiet moan.

He softly pulls away, keeping his voice low as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his question, and he smiles before kissing his way down your jaw, following the path to the curve of your shoulder to where the flesh of your breast melts from the cup of your bra.

He pauses, eyes flicking up to yours, “Still okay?”

You lift your chest to answer his question, one of his hands quick to whip around your body and undo the clasp before pulling it away from your completely. He inhales quietly, watching your breasts fall to a more natural position once free of the bra, and heat creeps along your ears the longer he stares, wandering hands moving to cup the soft flesh delicately.

A light sigh leaves you when his thumbs brush over your nipples, circling over the stiff peaks before he rips a surprised gasp from your lips. His fingers tickle the harsh sting of his pinch away before he envelopes a nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, tongue soothing any remaining pain. He moves to the other side, repeating his actions before pulling way to blow softly over the wet skin, chuckling quietly at the way you squirm under him.

He continues his slow journey downwards, but stops when he reaches your stomach. A part of you doesn’t want to look at him – what if he doesn’t like it? But then you’re reminded that he’s seen you naked hundreds of times, in all sorts of places and positions. Why would now be any different?

So you look at him, eyes following to where he rests comfortably between your thighs, gaze already trained on you with an air of soft fondness. He smiles when you look at him, and only when you look at him do you realise what patterns his fingers are tracing over your skin – he’s tracing your stretchmarks.

The sudden wave of apprehension is washed away when his lips trace over the shallow valleys in your skin, kissing along every single one he could see while his fingers continued running up and down your sides softly.

“Marcus,” you giggle, when he moves too close to the ticklish spot above your hip.

“What?” He asks innocently, a loud raspberry quickly cutting through the peace of the bedroom as he nuzzles into your side. You laugh louder, squirming against his hold and batting him away as he continues his attack. He glows when he sees the lazy smile stretching your features, no shadows hanging in the back of your eyes.

“Idiot.” You mutter affectionately, smile widening.

“Your idiot.”

His fingers trace over the waistband of your panties, waiting for your go ahead before they slide under the fabric and move them softly down your legs. He discards them off the side of the bed and hums lowly when your legs part under his gentle coaxing, eyes zeroing in on your folds shining with the arousal that had built from his tender ministrations.

“This okay?” He whispers, eyes watching the way your brow creases when he runs his fingers up and down your slit, his cock jumping in his pyjama bottoms when he feels your arousal coat his fingertips.

“Mhmm.” You relax into the pillows, eyes closing in bliss at the rhythmic circles he was rubbing over your clit. “Marcus?”

“Yeah honey?”

You knew where this was going, and as much as you adored his tongue and the absolute magic he could make with it, you just wanted him close. Your hands greedily grab at him, “Come ‘ere.”

He frowns, pouting as his fingers dip into your heat. “But I –”

“Not tonight. I just want you… please?”

He softens, nodding with a smile as he melts back over you, lips eagerly meeting with yours as you feel the weight of his body carefully press into you. He shimmies out of his pyjama bottoms, quick to settle back in between your legs and you exhale shakily as the head of his cock slides between your folds, a fire kickstarting in your stomach as he lazily drags his hips back and pushes forward until he runs his tip over your clit again and again.

His hand darts in between your bodies, fumbling to line himself up with your entrance as your lips work messily against his, throwing his thoughts into a complete jumble, and it’s not long until he’s sinking into you, bottoming out in your wet heat with a low groan. Your walls flutter deliciously around him and his hips jolt, before he’s rolling forward and starting a steady, unhurried pace.

“I love you,” he whispers as you pant below him, the slow drag of his hips against your clit as he grinds into you steadily building the fire in your core.

You can’t help the tears that build in your eyes, the intense power of his adoring gaze too much for your damaged heart to handle, but he doesn’t let you turn away, he won’t let you hide. His forehead meets yours, hands moving to intertwine tightly with yours as you breathe in the other, the slow pressure of his hips staying steady as your chest tightens from the sparkle in his dark eyes.

You put that sparkle there. You can see it now.

It was love.

Your love, his love –

It all morphed together in a wild frenzy of colours and sounds and everything was just right. Here now, with him, everything was right. There was no pain, no doubt… just pure devotion. Your heart struggles with the pressure of it all, chest threatening to surrender under the weight, but you welcome it eagerly, desperate to feel and breathe all of him as he moves over you.

The tears break free. “Marcus –”

“I know. I’ve got you, honey.”

“I love you,” you murmur, sniffing quietly as you wiggle a hand free to tangle into the damp locks at the back of his head to keep his forehead pressed against yours. His nose runs softly along your own and your heart squeezes at the sweet tenderness of it. “So fucking much –”

His face crumbles, completely unashamed as a wave of tears build in his own eyes, his own insecurities biting at the back of his mind, and he nods, pushing the shadows away and instead, nuzzling into you and your warmth.

“I know – almost as much as I love you.”

You share a watery smile, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek to collect the stray tear that falls free and then he’s moving, your hands winding to grab at his back as he picks up the pace, keeping the pressure of his hips rolling against your clit and you cry out quietly as your stomach tightens with the threat of your oncoming crash of pleasure.

He senses it, moves just that little more desperately against you, and then you’re shattering under him, eyes closing as fire floods your veins and rips through your body. He falls with you, his own end coaxed on by the sudden tightening off your hot walls and the rush of slick that floods him. He shudders above you, face pinching as he fills you, and you moan when you feel his cock twitch inside you.

You pull him to rest in your arms, head tucked comfortably in the curve of your shoulder as he huffs into your throat. You try to steady your own breathing, your heart beating wildly against your chest as the post-climax tingles settle into your limbs, your body melting into the bed as exhaustion rolls through you.

He’s gentle as he pulls out of you, carefully falling next to you, and watching you shift onto your side to face him with a languid smile.

His voice is barely a whisper, his fingers moving to find yours as his racing heart calms. “You really are incredible, honey.”

Heat crawls along your chest and fills your cheeks, “You’re not so bad yourself, Agent Pike.”

“Seriously,” he says quietly, “I wish you could see it.”

You swallow the sudden lump building in your throat, and you smile widely at him, filled with such a sudden wave of confidence you wish it would last. “One day I will.” And you know in your heart that it could be possible, it would be. “One day.”

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#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #the mentalist #the mentalist fic

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flowesona · 3 years

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Wicker Man - yandere! jungkook x reader

so my child @babeejk wanted a y! sugar daddy jungkook, and i live for nothing if not to fulfil her jungkook obsession so here we are.

word count: 2.1k

pairing: y! jungkook x gn! reader

Most people (Y/N)’s age would spend their Friday night partying, hanging out with friends, trying new things. But (Y/N) was spending the best days of their life entertaining a young, rich CEO who would no doubt dump them for a new pretty face in a few years.

Jungkook was a sweet gentleman. Always made payments on time, and usually never pushed the boundaries. But there were instances where his hands crept a little too far for (Y/N)’s liking, or his grip on (Y/N)’s arm got a little too tight in the presence of his friends.

He was peaceful enough that Friday night, having ordered takeout for the two of them and put on a movie. Clearly, he needed the company of (Y/N) more than their body as most of their previous sugar daddies had coveted.

With (Y/N) placing their plate down onto the coffee table and relaxing into his arms to watch the movie, it was almost like they were dating. Jungkook didn’t dare push this idea often, happy to stick to the simple domesticity they had as if they were already in love and nothing needed to be said.

He pressed a kiss on the back of (Y/N)’s neck, enjoying the fleeting feeling of his lips on their skin.

“You seem tired, baby. Want to go to bed?” The film was reaching its climax, but (Y/N)’s eyes were barely able to stay open.

“Mmmmm.” They replied, not protesting as he lifted them like a bride and carried them into his room to rest on his king sized bed.

(Y/N) had allowed a gentle smile to settle on their lips, their eyes having drifted closed. Jungkook settled himself beside them, feeling equally as at peace.

“I wish every night could be like this.” He mused allowed. “Would you like that, baby?”

(Y/N) was only his for two nights a week - Fridays and Saturdays, wherein he would often have them stay for the night.

“Mmmmm.” (Y/N) gave an ambiguous grumble as he hooked his arms around their chest to spoon them.

“Really? I can’t wait, baby. I love you, so much.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The morning after, (Y/N) woke up to an empty bed. Unusual, considering that Jungkook loved to wake up beside them and talk in the morning. Brushing that aside they stood up and padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Jungkook was seated at the counter, glasses perched on his nose and his laptop in front of him next to a steaming cup of hot water (allegedly, it had health benefits but (Y/N) had never understood it).

“Good morning, baby.” Jungkook had a bright smile, beckoning them to join him at the counter. (Y/N) followed his instructions, hopping onto the stool beside him and leaning on his shoulder in a move they knew he adored.

“I’ve been working hard for you this morning, baby. You know, I want to get this done as soon as possible so we can be together.”

“That’s good.” (Y/N) hummed in reply.

“How do you feel about the moving company getting there at two today? That’ll give us time to have lunch on the way.” Jungkook ran his hand down their arm, soothing them as he noticed how they tensed up.

“What?”

“So you can move in, baby. Of course, you don’t have to bring everything here and I’ll be more than happy to buy anything extra you need-”

“Wait, wait, wait a second.” (Y/N) breathed out slowly. “Moving in?”

“We talked about it last night. You agreed, didn’t you?” (Y/N) scrunched up their nose, trying to recall the conversation but drawing a blank.

“No, I never agreed to that. And I never would. It’d break the terms of our contract.”

Jungkook had such a sincere look of hurt in his eyes that it tugged at (Y/N)’s heartstrings.

“We don’t need that contract, baby. We just need each other. You know I’ll give you anything you want, right?”

“And what I want… no, what I need… is for some space. This is just my part time hustle, I still have college and a life outside of this. I want to keep it to two days a week, otherwise it’ll blur the lines between you as a sugar daddy and you as a boyfriend.” (Y/N) tried not to let their irritation show as they spoke.

“Fuck the lines, (Y/N)! We don’t need any of those labels, I just want you to be mine as much as I am yours!” Their companion’s grip on their arm had grown tighter to the point that his nails started to draw blood. Realising this, (Y/N) pried his hand away and stood up.

“I’m sorry if I’d misled you. But I’m not looking for that kind of relationship with you, I’m just looking for strictly business. If this doesn’t work, maybe we should end this.”

Jungkook stared at them incredulously.

“Well…” He bit his lip, deep in thought. “Fine. Life will go on, I guess. I’ll call up the moving company and cancel it. Let’s not end this beautiful thing we have over a silly argument.”

(Y/N) nodded, although they had a horrible feeling in their stomach that it was not the end of the conversation, and Jungkook would stop at nothing to get his way.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had chosen to make Thursday a ‘me’ day. They cooked themselves breakfast and lunch, did some online shopping and applied a face mask. They had zero intentions of visiting anyone else, when all they wanted to do was de-stress from life.

As they were lighting a candle and listening to some Beethoven, a shrill alarm rang out.

‘Huh. They don’t normally hold the drill today.’ (Y/N) shrugged, waiting for it to cease. However, it didn’t stop.

After a few minutes, (Y/N) grabbed their phone and stepped outside, only to see people hurrying down the stairs.

“Hurry! Fire!” One of her neighbours yelled, jogging past them.

Their eyes widened, but sure enough they could see smoke curling throughout the air and they knew they had no time to lose. Leaving their apartment with only their phone in hand, (Y/N) followed their neighbours down the stairs and out of the building, standing on the pavement as they watched the flames licking at the building and smoke billowing out of the open windows. Soon enough there were fire engines on the scene and ambulances to deal with the people who’d inhaled too much smoke.

(Y/N) found themselves sitting on the pavement, numb with shock. To think everything they owned was going up in the flames was terrifying, even as they saw the firefighters doing everything to minimise the damage.

“(Y/N)! Baby!” Their state of shock was broken by someone yelling their name, and suddenly they were pulled into a tight hug.

“Baby, thank god you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you.”

“Jungkook?” (Y/N) instantly recognised the voice. “What- How-”

“I was in the area when I heard about what happened. I came as quickly as I could.” Jungkook pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s forehead.

“You need to rest. Come back to my place, okay?”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had ended up staying there far longer than intended. Their apartment had been completely wrecked by the fire, since it had started on their floor. Every possession of theirs, gone so quickly, although of course Jungkook insisted on replacing whatever they wanted.

Jungkook seemed to be very much content with their prolonged stay. In fact, he’d been working from home for the first few days to make sure they were settled in and not feeling too lonely. (Y/N) would sit with him in his home office, since they didn’t really have much else to do, and scroll on their phone until he inevitably called them over to cuddle with him.

The young man had become progressively bolder with his skinship, never holding back from pressing kisses to their neck or holding them a bit too tightly to his crotch. They hadn’t done ‘it’ yet, but with how he was acting it was only a matter of time.

They were just sitting together, (Y/N) scrolling through instagram and Jungkook answering some emails when the desk phone rang. Jungkook reached around them to answer it, holding it to his ear for a few seconds before putting it back down.

“Your nintendo switch has just been delivered. I need to go down to the lobby and sign for it. Are you okay waiting here for a few minutes?” Jungkook pouted, as (Y/N) nodded in reply.

He pressed a kiss to their cheek before standing up.

“Don’t miss me too much, baby.” He smiled before leaving.

(Y/N) let out a breath they didn’t realise they’d been holding in whilst he was there. But now, they were bored as ever.

A chime rang out, and (Y/N) found their attention drawn to Jungkook’s phone, sitting there innocently. They reached over and picked it up, only seeing a text from his mother asking about dinner plans next week. But they noted how he’d changed his lockscreen to a picture of them, from a few nights ago when they’d accompanied him to a formal event and he’d asked one of his colleagues to take a picture of them together.

(Y/N) suddenly had something to do. They set about trying to unlock Jungkook’s phone, first trying their fingerprint and face ID but to no avail. Then, realising that he had a numeral password they tried typing in a few dates - his birthday, his parent’s anniversary. Then, out of sheer boredom and with only one attempt they tried their own birthday only for them to be granted access to his lockscreen.

‘Jeez, he needs to get a life if he’s that whipped for me.’ They sighed, as they scrolled through his phone. Nothing was particularly out of the ordinary, until they checked the photo gallery, to be met with tons of pictures of them. Screenshots from social media, snaps from their ‘dates’, selfies with them fast asleep in his arms. It was enough to make (Y/N) shudder with fright.

Another message popped up.

‘I need the other half of the payment, sir, or I will be contacting the police.’

(Y/N) clicked on it, expecting business talk only to be met with something else entirely. Fear settled in their stomach as they scrolled up through the messages.

‘(Y/N) has been evacuated outside, doesn’t seem to have been hurt.’

‘Someone’s called emergency services, but the fire should spread far enough that (Y/N)’s apartment will be damaged.’

‘I’ve started it, it’s spreading quickly.’

It didn’t take a genius to realise what had happened.

(Y/N) dropped Jungkook’s phone on the floor in shock, standing up immediately. They’d walked right into his arms without hesitation, they’d played into his plan perfectly. Jungkook always got what he wanted, no matter the cost.

‘I have to get out of here.’

(Y/N) started for the door, only stopping to tuck their phone into their pocket. They were just by the entrance to the penthouse when they heard talking outside.

They knew they had to hide, but it was too late.

Jungkook burst through the door, accompanied by a stern faced delivery driver carrying a large box. This was subsequently placed by the door and he made a swift exit, avoiding (Y/N)’s existence the entire time.

“Ah, baby I missed you. Here, come and see what I bought for you.” Jungkook beckoned to them, but one look at their face told him he’d read their mood entirely wrong.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed as he approached them. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it for you.”

“Get the hell away from me.” (Y/N) snapped. Jungkook froze. “I know what you did. What the hell is wrong with you? I could’ve died in that fire?”

His face became stern.

“I would never have allowed that to happen. I just wanted to give you a little push to move in with me, that’s all.”

“You’re insane!”

“And you’re too stubborn to progress our relationship!” Jungkook bit back. “Can’t you see how hard I try to make you happy? Is that not enough for you to love me?”

“I never want to see you again.” (Y/N) huffed, trying to show past him only to be caught in his iron grip.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

(Y/N) struggled, but Jungkook’s determination was stronger than their body weight.

“Maybe I am crazy, baby. And you know what that means?” He leant in close, so (Y/N) could feel the warmth of his breath. “You never know what I’m going to do next. So don’t try me unless you want to get burnt.”

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #bts yandere #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jeon jeongguk #yandere jeongguk x reader #yandere jeon jungkook x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oneshot

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part III

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so.

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored.

He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status.

Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy.

He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

“What do you mean?”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

“Are you calling him a predator?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

“A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

“Even him perving on you?”

“Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do.

“A little.”

You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

“Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.”

You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

“Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

“Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

“It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

“That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

“Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?"

All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

Fuck yes. Half the battle is won.

“Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

You snort. “Try again.”

“Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

“Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

“I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

“Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

“Holy shit.”

Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

“I guess.”

This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable.

These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group.

It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands.

“Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped."

“Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.

Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

“Ah, of course he did.”

Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks.

“Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.

“Glad to hear it.”

The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit.

“You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

“Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

“That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

“Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before.

It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game.

You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom.

“You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

“It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

“Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience.

He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire.

You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick.

“Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs.

“Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

“Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

He chuckles, “You know it.”

Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head.

“You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

“Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

“I have a refractory period, you know.”

You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower.

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality.

The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well.

But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

“I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time.

He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

“So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

“I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him.

You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time.

“No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things.

Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips.

“We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible.

It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

“Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning.

Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall.

“Is Erwin here?” You ask.

Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before.

“Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

“You know which one it is?”

Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

“Uh, hey?”

“Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

“Studying?” You question.

“Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did).

“Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move.

“So, what’s going on?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks.

“You need to make up with Mike.”

Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

“Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

“Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

“Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he smirks.

You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

“So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds.

You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil.

In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls.

Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did.

“You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate.

Are you calling him a predator?

He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea.

“You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

“Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

“Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response.

But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

And, so you do.

"Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

"So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.

"I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

"I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

"Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick.

"You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up.

"No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare.

And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike.

Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?"

"Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours.

Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you.

Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

"No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

"Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?"

"I… I don't know. You just—"

"Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

"Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic.

"Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt.

"Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

"Yeah, okay," he nods.

You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess.

Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from.

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him.

"What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows.

"Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to.

Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike.

Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

And, of course, Mike is too smart for that.

"Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

"I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night.

Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?"

The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin.

Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to.

Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out.

"I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him.

He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college.

The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this.

"Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him.

You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing.

"Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks."

"What're your plans?"

You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek.

When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort.

And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

"Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

"Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind.

Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them.

"I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

"Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

"And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

"I'll think about it," you stop him.

Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes.

Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'.

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch.

It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs.

You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object.

It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones.

Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint.

You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to.

Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog.

A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired.

The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family.

He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money.

Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park.

You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep.

The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.

"What in the world…"

Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house.

It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food.

"Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion.

Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt.

"Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!"

She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest.

Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic.

What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you?

It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

"Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

"Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

"I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

"Obviously not."

He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time).

"I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days."

"I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

“Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

“And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.”

You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him.

"Yeah."

It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead.

"Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

And, she's hugging you again.

"I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say.

"Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear.

"So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

"It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life."

Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

"Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off.

Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later.

Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something.

The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day.

When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father.

"Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?"

"Dad!"

Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

"Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

"Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier.

All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

"Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle.

Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches.

You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

He grunts. "That makes one of us."

Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy.

You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?"

Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins.

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school.

"Look how cute you are with braces!"

"Please stop."

"All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?"

"Mom made me."

"You were so skinny. What happened?"

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap.

It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his.

He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you.

Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream.

You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders.

You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh.

He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more.

So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day.

"She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

"Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were."

"What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous.

Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

"We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

"Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?"

"That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

"We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

"So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?"

"Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader #mels prima vista

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rrickgrrimes8 · 3 years

Note

Can I get rick grimes x gender neutral reader

The reader was an elite solider in the U.S army when the virus happened. They been traveling the South for five ½ years alone. So now they landed in Georgia when the Saviors and Rick Group are at war. One day Rick is attacked by the Saviors, but the reader saves Rick from the Saviors with a rifle but escapes before Rick ever notices. Days later the reader meets Rick (like how Jesus met Rick.) But Rick captures the reader and interrogates him. In the end Reader reveals how he saved Rick. Rick then forces the reader work/live with the group even though the real.

A Soldier ~ Rick Grimes imagine

hey sorry for the delay ive been super busy coz i just started school back after isolating and i’ve been doing exams all week

also for anyone else who requested i’ll try and complete them soon really sorry please remember i haven’t forgotten about yall i’m just busy

anyways @iawaythrown hope you like this thank you for requesting

let me know if there’s any mistakes so i can fix it thank you x

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

The sun had set hours earlier but that didn’t stop you. Unrelenting you continued through the heat and the exhaustion. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything you had gone through. Even before this, you wouldn’t allow yourself to stop. Being one of America’s pride and joys serving as a respected sergeant. You had served 10 years before the world went to shit and it made you laugh now. You always thought that the meaning of your life - the purpose - was to protect and serve against threats to the U.S.A. If only you knew that your greatest threat was against the dead now living. You were grateful, more than anything. You had a lot more in this world than others did. And now 5 1/2 years later you were still going. Never stopping. Not for anything.

Except... when you caught wind of a certain curly-haired man. He was being attacked and was substantially outmanned. You thought the best use of your time was to protect people just like you had in your previous life. The man was cornered now by the time you’d made the decision to help him. Three men dressed in leather charged him with any weapon they could find. He fought against them - to the best of his ability. Which seemed to be skilled at least. You gripped your trusty rifle, aimed the scope and without hesitation fired.

One man fell.

Then the next.

And then the last.

The blue-eyed man scoured the area for you, curious about the location of the shots. You, however, were smarter than that. You didn’t know this man. You didn’t know if he deserved what those men would’ve done to him but you did know trust is to be earned in this world not given carelessly. You ducked away out of his vision. But you never strayed far from the man.

You could say curiosity got the better of you. Naturally and from a very young age, you’d always pester, investigate, fight for answers when they really weren’t warranted. Your mom used to tell you how curiosity killed the cat but you preferred to say it saved the cat. Being curious never hurt anyone and it certainly came as an advantage to you. When meeting people you knew how to hide, how to watch. And yes it may be creepy but it was necessary. You weren’t stupid, far from it, so why stop your ways now?

The man didn’t return back to a camp after the attack - one that you knew he had due to his clean and well-presented appearance. He continued through the area, meeting up with a tall brooding man accompanied with a crossbow. The two seemed close. Although despite how few words conversed between them, you knew they were. If either of them fell into some trouble the other protected. They were family - maybe not blood - but no doubt in your mind we’re they like brothers.

It had been days now and these men were still on their run. By this time you were even doubting if this was worth it but you shook off the thoughts and continued. It wasn’t your intention to draw attention to yourself. Hell, it was something you were taught against. But it happened. You, rather carelessly, stumbled across them. It all happened so fast. You saw someone in the woods - walker maybe. But at that moment you decided against your inner workings and ran. Stupidly you ran straight into this man.

“Watch it,” He growled pushing you back slightly. They glared at you threateningly, guns were drawn.

“Wha’ ta hell ya doin’?” The crossbowman snapped. His deep southern accent growing darker through his words. He was on edge. It being clear that interactions like this hadn’t always been a blessing.

“Was just passing through. Calm yourself, alrigh’?”

Unimpressed he looked to the blue-eyed man who was fixed on your stance. “You looked in a hurry. Trouble heading this way?” The man inquired warily.

“Nah not really,” You paused looking back to the area, “Well maybe I'm not sure.”

“Not sure? What's back there?” He looked at you suspiciously hand still grasped around his colt python. You didn't say anything to them as a sound overcame the atmosphere. It sounded like a twig, perhaps just a wondering dead but they didn't see the rational side. "Who are you? Who are you with?" The blue-eyed man barked edging the pistol closer to your face.

"Hey, chill man. My names y/n, alright? And I'm not with anyone. I'm on my own, okay?" The men shared a look before turning back to you unbelievingly. You opened your mouth to justify your case but was interrupted by a smack to the side of your head. You fell to the ground, gazing at the two men still.

And then... nothing.

Hours later your eyes snapped open. Alert, you searched through the room. It was a cell. A traditional one with an iron gate. One you knew from past experience weren't the easiest to break out of. Especially after spotting a man floating around the exit. "Hello?" Your head burned as you spoke likely due to a concussion but you powered through it. The man stopped pacing and glared at you. He was a dark-skinned man, holding what looked like a stick. But the main thing was that he was clean. You had noticed earlier how the two men didn't look as ragged and dirty as you did. Telling you they had a home. Now seeing him proved it.

"Hello," He said back, "Names Morgan, yours?" Your rational side shut your mouth for you. You didn't know these people. Hell, they kidnapped you. They didn't deserve your name. And you resented how you caved earlier and told those people. "Not much of a speaker, huh?" Again silence, "You didn't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you."

Begrudgingly you responded, "I'm not afraid of you." "Your not?" "No, I'm not. Not of you. Not of those men who brought me here. Not of anyone," Morgan almost laughed at your response.

"You're quite brave, aren’t you?" You shrugged etching a smile on his face, "you'll fit right in here."

"Who says I want to stay?" You countered. "I have a feeling," He smirked before another person entered the room.

"They awake?" Morgan nodded and exited.

The blue-eyed man from earlier entered your view. No words were exchanged between the two of you. You understood he still perceived you as a threat, which you knew you very well could be. You'd do what you have to. That's what you told yourself. After years of service to the army that swam around your mind like a mantra. You'd done some horrific things for your country now and before but you didn't let it rot you to the core like your comrades. You did what you had to. There was never an exception. So if these people decided to try something you'd do what you have to.

"Who are you?" He interrogated swiftly. Telling you that this wasn't his first rodeo. He was a cop or maybe even in the army like you.

"I already told you," Coldly you returned.

"Yeah well, I don't believe you," He persisted.

"I don't entirely know what you want me to do with that," you scoffed, "I can't force you to believe me. But I know my name. I know I'm alone. I know I don't mean to bring harm to your people unless I have to."

The man grunted. He hated how he began to believe you slightly. "Why were you running then?"

You sighed, "I was following you."

"You were following us?" He growled, "Why?"

"You were attacked. Those men I killed them," You revealed, "I was curious. So I followed you. I saw a walker or maybe it was a person... I don't know. I ran and bumped into you. That's all. I have no ulterior motive."

"Just because you tell me you have no ulterior motive doesn't make me inclined to believe you," He let out a harsh breath.

"What more do you want, huh? Want me to do a polygraph?"

He chuckled, "No. Of course not. But I don't trust you."

"So let me go," You promoted.

"I can't do that," he shook his head erratically.

"Why not?"

"You're valuable. If what you say is true that you did save me. Then I... we can't let that go, alright?"

You gaped at his confession, "So you're gonna force me to stay here?"

"Not exactly... we'd prefer if you did from your own will but if we have to," He quirked his eyebrow at you, "What do you say?"

Sarcastically you laughed at his proposition, "You're crazy."

"No, I'm Rick. Rick Grimes. And this," Rick gestured to your surroundings, "is Alexandria. Hopefully your new home."

"How do you know I'm not gonna kill you all in your sleep?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his naivety.

"I have faith that you won't. I searched you when you were out," He went into his pocket pulling out a medal you had gotten for serving in Iraq, "A soldier? I was a sheriffs deputy myself and I know I wouldn't have it in me to kill all the people in here - the children. I know you wouldn't either."

"You're right I wouldn't but... but we're not the same, Rick. We never will be," Rick tilted his head.

"I know," He spoke honestly, "But I feel like we're similar. You'd do a lot to save someone you'd never met. That's someone we'd like in Alexandria. Y/n you saved me. And I know you can save a lot more. So what do you say?"

You sighed moving closer to the cell door, "Okay."

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x gender neutral reader #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes twd #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead request #the walking dead x reader

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jaeminscoffee · 4 years

Text

Cramps | k. dy

Pairings- Kim Dongyoung x Reader

Genre- Fluff, Crack.

Word count- 1.61k

Warnings- None. It’s a little cringe ig?

Synopsis- Period, Boyfriend, 3am, cuddles and snacks equals your haven

Type- Requested! (i edited the 25th prompt a little since that sentence had been overused! Sorry for that!)

@kpopscape

Getting a call from you past midnight was a regular for Doyoung. It would usually be to check up on him, whether he ate after practice, or if he’d slept enough and things like that. It came to a point where Doyoung would stare at his screen waiting for your call, worrying when he wouldn’t receive any from your side, not even a text.

Which is why he bolted to your apartment past 2 am to your apartment, after not receiving any sort of sign that you’re alive for the past 3 days. He’d tried calling you, yes. But he’d always be directed to your voice recording which only worried him more.

He should’ve been used to it now though, it was the same cycle every month. You’d given him a spare key to your apartment in case you’d changed the passcode (which just so happened to be his birthdate) and forgotten to let him know.

You were too indulged in feeling the pain of your period kicking through from time to time to even bother checking your phone. Worst of all was the fact you were all out of chocolates or anything to snack on except for dried fruit and peanuts. So buried in your pain, you cut off all human connections.

When your boyfriend opened the door to your apartment, it looked pretty normal. The kitchen was tidy, but a little empty. The living room looked like not a soul had sat there for months though you, alongside him, made a popcorn mess there not even a week ago. The room was what proved his theories correct. The floor scattered with empty salted peanut packets. Around five bottles of gatorade on your side table with a packet of pain killer beside it.

“My poor baby..” he let out mostly to himself, finding you in a blanket burrito, only your head peeking out, eyes closed which made him think you were asleep. He made his way inside, picking up the packets off the floor before disposing it in the garbage bin, doing the same with the bottles not before placing a chaste kiss on your lips that were puckered. He couldn’t help it, you looked like an extremely cute, depressed sushi.

Your eyes flew open from the sudden plush feeling on your lips to meet with the doe eyes you adored oh so much. He pulled away immediately seeing you stare him dead in the eyes, which had his eyes widen in both shock and guilt for waking you up. You found his reaction endearing as you smile up at him, pulling your hands out with great effort.

You see his lips moving, probably spurting out apologies but you hold your hands out to stop him from speaking, which earned a confused look from his side. You reach out to the side of your face, removing the airpod from both ears before placing it onto the now clean table. “Now, speak” you mumble.

He stares at you a little too long, dumbfounded, “You weren’t asleep?” he asks, unintentionally pulling a trigger as you’d caught not a glimpse of sleep since your period decided to come knocking at your door. You sit up, hissing at the feeling between your thighs.

“You’d THINK I’d have gotten sleep, huh?” you glare up to your ever so confused boyfriend. “Check the date, Doyoung it’s been 2 years. You should’ve known."

"No, I know you’re on your period. But why didn’t you get any sleep?” he inquires, sitting down beside you.

“I’m drowning in my sorrow because I’m too good for the humans to know of my celestial existence. The lord’s themselves sculpted me with great-”

“You ran out of snacks, didn’t you?” he gave you a bemused look, cutting off your ramble which had you whining. “Worst of all I don’t have shibers to cuddle!! It’s my brother’s week to take care of him and yes i did run out of snacks, did you get any for me?” you look at him, eyes practically shimmering in hope.

He puffs out a sharp breath, mentally facepalming as he’d forgotten to do so from the previous worry he had for you. “To be fair, I was genuinely too occupied wanting to know of your wellbeing to think of snacks” Doyoung justifies, as you whine once again. You mumbled something along the lines of “Doyoung you’re the worst boyfriend ever” or something while you turn your back at him. Once again burying yourself in your blankets.

He sat quiet as you kept letting out incomprehensible sentences when he got an idea. It’s just 3 am anyways.

“Y/n” he calls out to you, poking at your side to grab your attention. “Psst. Y/n~” he repeated, making you scoot away from him as you feigned anger at him.

“Want to go get some fries?” he offered, which made you pause your actions. You stay silent, waiting for his next words. “Only if you want to though, or we could just cuddle your pain away-” Doyoung stood up, about to make his way towards the switch panels to turn the lights out. You caught his wrist midway. “No, wait. I’m interested."

After screaming at your boyfriend for running over to your house instead of driving, you let him drive you over to the nearest McDonald’s with your car even after he proposed a walk being good for reducing cramp pain. You were too lazy for heaven’s sake.

"Can i place an order for 2 large fries? And a Mcflurry? Thank you” Doyoung spoke after pulling up at the drive through as you sat in the passenger’s seat, two layers of sweater and his hoodie pulled over onto your body to keep you warm.

Waiting patiently for your order, you lean forward, resting your head on the dashboard as your pain only got worse. Doyoung reached over to your back, caressing it in a comforting manner to help reduce pain as he turned the heater on inside the car, determined to keep you as warm as possible.

You practically snatch the food away from his hands as soon as he received the order, earning a chuckle for him as he drives out out of the drive through, driving in the opposite direction of your house, probably to his and you don’t object, definitely liking the idea of munching on fries and slurping away the drink alongside his cuddles.

“You okay with staying over for the night?” he looks at you for a split second, confirming even though the answer was obvious, “I could drive you back home, it’s just, I’ve got work early in the morning tomorrow so i won’t be able to drop you then, and i know you’ll wake up in the middle of the night without warmth so-"

"I’m fine with it! I like your pillows better than mine anyways” you reply with a mouth full of fries.

Doyoung parks a little away from his apartment, seeing the parking lot overcrowded, earning a whine from you at the thought of having to physically move.

“Babe, i can’t moveee” you drag, as he parks just 2 minutes walk away from the apartment compound. A packet of empty fries placed on the drinks holder when he turns to look at you, “It’ll take not anymore than a minute” he tries convincing you. “It’s not that i don’t want to, i can’t” you emphasize the word ‘can’t’ to get your point across.

He taps at the steering wheel, while looking at you, thinking for a better alternative for walking. “Give me a piggyback ride!” you beat him to it. He nods his head in agreement, knowing you’d even go as far to just sleep in the car if he didn’t carry you up to his house. So without putting up a protest, he got out of the driver’s seat and made his way towards you, kneeling down once he opened the door to your side.

You trust fall forward, earning a sound of pain from your poor boyfriend as you chuckle out an apology. You press a kiss onto his cheeks before resting your head on his shoulder, feeling another wave of pain hit you, making you whimper.

Doyoung stood up, securing you in place as he took out the remaining order and the trash, making sure to lock the car before waking towards the apartment, inside the building and towards the elevator.

“Doyoung.. It hurts” you whine out, wanting nothing more than a soft surface to lie down on as Doyoung hushed you with comforting words, speed walking towards his door once the lift opened.

Feeling lethargic, you barely manage to make out the faint image of his well organised living room, the black and white undertone of the walls all too similar but you were too drawn out by the pain to make a clear picture out of it.

You feel yourself being lowered down onto his couch as your boyfriend made his way towards the kitchen to place the fries and drink down on the counter.

With heavy eyelids, you stare straight at the table beside the T. V, blinking multiple times to see what was moving back and forth in what looked like a cage to you. When it’d clearly be a mini aquarium to any sane soul.

“Babe, your dragon looks dope!” you scream out, turning towards the side to get into a comfortable position as you feel your legs being tugged out of your boots. Doyoung lets out a small laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“Pain’s that bad?” he questioned as you look up at him, eyebrows furrowed, “Hmm?”

“That’s my goldfish, Y/n”

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doubletriplepowerbomb · 3 years

Text

Mr Lonely part 4

Word count: +2600 (its a short one... I know)

Warnings: none

Tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46 @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21 @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25 @xfirespritex @wefunloveruniverse @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Read part 3 here

December 1st. It’s been 3 months since the night we started officially dating. The air was frigid and the trees were bare. Snow covered the ground and the sun started setting at 4 pm. But I wasn’t as grumpy as I would have been, I had him. Things had been going really really well. We haven’t been able to keep our hands off of each other. Sheamus’ large hands hold my hips every time he walks past me and I still feel weak under his touch. When my back is turned to him, he’ll either slap my ass playfully or run a hand through my hair. When his back is turned to mine, I do the same things.

We don’t often make it through dinner. I prefer to dine at home, that way I can crawl onto his lap whenever I want. He prefers to dine out, only so he can tease me under the table and watch me suffer.

He’s been really good about the girls too, there aren’t many that try anymore but sometimes he gets the occasional text. I hate it, I trust him, but I hate it. His number is everywhere in my bar, I’ve tried my best to paint over the pen and marker marks but the carvings remain. The digits dug into my bar taunt me every time I'm working and I hate it. I want him all to myself. This isn’t the first time I’m saying this, he knows how much it bothers me to see his phone number carved into the wooden bar and stall doors. Nothing I can do can get rid of the past.

It was 2 am on Christmas Day.

Sheamus’ phone buzzed silently in his sweatpants pocket. He had worn pants to bed that night, which I found odd, and he never placed his phone on the windowsill near him like he usually did.

I remember waking up to him getting out of bed slowly, I didn’t open my eyes but I rolled towards him and placed a hand on his warm back, he was sitting up. “Go back to bed, love. Ah’m just goin’ to the bathroom.” He whispered. That was enough for me so I removed my hand from his warm skin and rolled back over.

What I didn’t know was that Sheamus was not going to the bathroom. He slipped out of my room and closed the door silently behind him. He had left his laundry folded on my couch, I noticed earlier but didn’t care much. He pulled on a long sleeve shirt and a warm flannel before rummaging through the small pile and grabbing two socks, not turning on any light to see if they matched. He then slipped on his old work boots, reminding himself to get a new pair soon, and his coat before grabbing the keys to his truck and my key to the bar.

I woke up on Christmas Day to Sheamus rolling over in my bed and snuggling up closer to me. It was 10 am. I was excited for today, the bar was not open on Christmas so Sheamus and I would spend the evening with my family. Sheamus’ family is in Ireland, he doesn’t talk much about them. All I managed to know is that he doesn’t have any siblings and he doesn’t get along with his father.

I turned in his arms so that I was facing him. He always looked so peaceful when he slept. He was snoring softly and breathing steadily. I gently ran my finger along the lines of his face, his lips turned upward when fingers brushed through his beard.

Normally, I would get up to make breakfast but I didn’t want to disturb him. He was always so intense, so charismatic, and so alive that it seemed out of character for him to be so at peace. He looked content. I’m sure the holidays weren’t the best times for him in previous years, I figure he spent them alone. Sure, there were women more than willing to spend the nights in his bed but what did he do when they were gone too? I knew he missed home, he had family at home. He definitely missed his mom. He spoke to her on the phone every day and they even sent letters back and forth-- I was at his apartment once, sitting on the couch while he took a shower after a long day of work, and I saw the most recent letter from his mom on the counter. I didn’t want to read it and I didn’t read it, but I couldn't help scanning my eyes over the page. I caught my name written in a random sentence in the middle of the page… he had mentioned me to his mother.

Sheamus woke up, his bright blue eyes met mine and snapped me from my trance. I blinked a few times and, knowing I had been caught staring, felt a blush bloom across my face. Sheamus only smirked his beautiful smirk and pulled me closer to him. He was always so warm. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head before resting his chin in the place he just kissed.

“Ya look like you've been thinkin’ love.” He mumbled. “Ah can still see the smoke common’ from yer ears from all the effort.” Sheamus laughed at his joke and squeezed me against his bare chest, allowing me to get close enough to slap it. Despite the playfulness and gentleness of my slap, my hand left an angry red mark on his skin. I always felt bad after seeing a mark on his skin, they never hurt him but the stark red against the beautiful white always made it seem like a life-threatening injury. He personally liked all the marks I left on his smooth white skin over the months, he would always admire them after sex.

I playfully pushed away after staring at the mark from the slap and sat up on the bed, “ugh, and to think I was gonna make you snowmen shaped pancakes this morning.”

Sheamus rolled dramatically onto his back, my eyes were drawn to the blanket riding low on his hips. My eyes followed the trail of soft red hair leading downwards from his belly button, teasing what was beneath the boxers he was wearing. “Oh no! Whatever will ah do without three normal shaped pancakes that ya line up on a plate and put chocolate chips on fer eyes?!”

I feigned offense to his overly dramatic comment. “Excuse me? They are cute!”

“Yer cute.” He winked and sent me a boyish grin that made my insides clench. I shut my lips and decided to tease instead. I rolled my eyes and stood up before bending over to grab his shirt. I knew he was watching. I was only wearing underwear. He didn’t move, but he was growing hard underneath the fabric of my sheets and his boxers-- he had taken the sweats off after he had gotten back around 4 am. I slipped his shirt on and headed towards the bedroom door, “I'm making you snowmen pancakes.” I said before stopping to turn around. I turned and my eyes met his, “and you better be appreciative or I will put on pants.”

It was the only threat I knew he’d take seriously.

We ate our pancakes in the comfortable silence that I have grown to love over the past couple months. “You don’t have to leave today, do you?” I asked between bites of pancake. My eyes rose from my plate to meet his eyes.

He finished his bite and my eyes moved to his neck as he swallowed. He took a sip of coffee before speaking. “Of course not. It’s Christmas, nobody works on Christmas.” Sheamus shot me a smirk before shoveling the final forkful of pancake in his mouth. “Yer spendin’ the whole day wit’ me, love.” He wiped his mouth and mustache with his napkin before getting up and placing his plate in the sink. “Whether ya like it or not.” I watched his bare torso and arms shamelessly as he rinsed his plate. I could feel heat shooting throughout my body as his muscles rippled with his effortless movements.

“When do you want to do gifts?” I asked, staring at his back as he placed the rinsed dish in the dishwasher.

Sheamus was silent for a moment but spoke after he closed the dishwasher and turned to me. My eyes were on his body as he turned. “We can do gifts whenever ya want. But ya should go first, ya won’t be able to follow my gift to you.”

I shot him a glare and padded to the living room, where a small Christmas tree stood in the corner by the couch. “Sit.” I pointed towards the couch, the pile of laundry from yesterday was still sitting on one of the cushions. Sheamus sat and I walked to the small coat closet that I had and began digging through the clutter. I emerged seconds later with a medium sized box wrapped in shiny green paper with a golden bow. I placed it on his lap with a kiss to his head and sat on the couch beside him.

Sheamus opened the gift with a smile on his face and a shimmer in his eyes, he looked like the little boy in the photo of him I saw for the first time months ago. The paper was peeled off and revealed a neutral box, he looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I nodded once, encouraging him to continue opening. He opened the box carefully and I smiled upon seeing a small gasp escape from his lips. He pulled the left boot out of the box and turned to me. “How’d ya know ah needed new boots? And ya got the brand and the size and everythin’!”

“Well I’m not blind, your boots are falling apart and you always beg me to rub your feet after work,” I scrunched my nose as I told him. “And you’re not the most unpredictable dresser. You wear the same thing everyday. I took one of your boots to the store downtown a few weeks ago, got the same brand, same size, same color. I have the receipt if you wanna go back and try something new.” I told him.

The Irishman smiled and brought his arm around my shoulders to pull me in. “They’re perfect. Thank you, love. Ah really needed these.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to my temple. “But, my gift is still better than yours.” He teased.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Okay, where is it then?” I asked, looking around. I have to admit, I did my fair share of snooping these past couple days-- both at my apartment and his-- while he was at work and I couldn’t find a thing.

“Well, ah don’t have it here…” His voice trailed off but it picked up again before I could speak. “As much as ah hate when ya get dressed, yer gonna have to.” I rolled my eyes and dragged him into my room. I threw on a pair of joggers and a jacket over his shirt.

I turned to look at him, “Is this good? Or are you taking me somewhere public?” Sheamus chuckled and told me I was fine. I pulled my hair up into a half up half down bun before slipping on my boots and following him out to his truck.

Sheamus had started the truck before we had gotten outside so it was warming up quickly as we climbed in. The air was brisk, the wind was blowing, and snow covered the sidewalks. Christmas hits played at a low volume on the radio. Normally, I’d be singing, but I stayed quiet so I could hear Sheamus' deep accented voice sing the lyrics.

He pulled into the parking lot of the bar and I sat in the passenger’s seat, looking extremely confused. “The gift is in here.” He commented, noticing my confusion. I glared at him before climbing out of the truck and following him to the doors. He pulled the key out of his jacket pocket and opened the door, holding it for me to walk in. I clicked on the lights and looked around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary other than the faint smell of paint-- that I didn't notice at the time.

“Is my gift in here?” I teased.

“Yes, it is. Look around, but don’t touch anythin’.” I groaned, my mom always played the hot and cold game with us on Christmas and I was always so impatient. I looked around for a few minutes, finding nothing. Sheamus knew I’d be searching hopelessly, I was looking for a box. “Look on the bar, love.”

I turned to him, “On?” I wanted to make sure I heard him correctly.

He nodded, “Yes, dear, on.”

I turned back to the bar and walked closer, I saw nothing on it. “There’s nothing here.” I spoke, still looking at the blank wood.

“Exactly. There’s nothin’ there…” His voice trailed off, leaving me to solve his riddle.

It took a moment for it to click. When it did, I took off down the bar. The entire surface was smooth, untouched wood. I ran into the bathrooms, the stall doors were also smooth and untouched. I bursted from the spotless bathrooms and circled around to the tables I knew had been carved. “Sheamus!” I squealed as I ran straight towards him. He was still standing right by the door, he hadn’t moved. Once I reached him he held his arms out for me and I jumped into them-- cliché, I know. But you’d do the same thing if the former town whore, who was now your boyfriend, had removed his phone number from every wooden surface in the bar you worked at because you didn’t like it being there.

“How’d you do this?” I asked, still in his arms. “When’d you do this? I was at the bar last night. Granted we closed early but you were with me the entire time.” I was babbling. I knew I was babbling, but I couldn’t help myself.

“When I woke ya up last night and told ya ah was goin’ to the bathroom. Ah snuck out of the apartment and filled in the wood, re-stained it too.”

“Oh my god, Sheamus,” I pulled my head away from the crook of his neck to look into his blue eyes. They still had that shimmer in them, the same one from the photo, the same one he had when he would ask me to check his essays, the same one when we talked that first night in the bar, and the same one from when he opened his new boots. “Thank you.” My voice came out as only a whisper before I pressed my lips to his.

“And that was the moment I knew I was in love with your father.” I said, looking up at my daughter who was furiously typing away on her school-issued laptop. She had approached me earlier asking questions about my relationship with her father for a school project about her family.

3 Christmases after our first together, Sheamus proposed to me in the empty bar. We got married the next fall. That was 20 years ago, we have a son who is 18 and a daughter who is 16. Our son, Andrew, has my hair and my brown eyes. He got my tanner complexion too. Our daughter, Alex, on the other hand, is a carbon copy of the Irishman:" red hair, blue eyes, and beautiful pale skin.

“Wait, dad was… ‘the town whore’?” Alex stifled a laugh as she quoted my words, “How am I supposed to write that into my project?”

I laughed too, “I don’t know, honey. But don’t make fun of dad too much about it, he’ll get embarrassed.” I joked.

My daughter smiled and looked back down at her computer screen. “I’ll just say that you met in high school and met again after college. That’s good enough.”

A/N: chapter 4 was short, but I hope you enjoyed Mr. Lonely! I debated writing the proposal scene so let me know if you want it and I’ll post it as a chapter 4.5!

#sheamus #sheamus fanfiction #sheamus smut #sheamus x reader #wwe

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limitlessgojo · 3 years

Text

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 9)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Red Strings of Fate

Next Chapter: Invisible Ties

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Chapter 9: Wait for Me

After the mission, you got back to the Kyoto High School campus. Both of you were still a little awkward, not knowing exactly how to proceed with your relationship. Are you dating now? Not necessarily.

Noritoshi reached out to you from behind, but thought better and retracted his hand. You seemed to have zoned out for the rest of the mission, so he thought it would be better to give you a bit of space.

You both were outside your dorm room after having submitted the report about how the mission went.

You turned back to face Noritoshi, “Thank you so much for accompanying me on my first ever mission senpai. It was definitely a different experience from just sparring with other jujutsu sorcerers. I’ll do my best to improve.”

You lowered your head, but he bent his knees so he could face you, “You definitely have talent and raw power. Please be more logical in your tactical and in-fight responses next time. Thank you for protecting me.” He spoke quietly so as to not disturb the other students who are already in bed.

You smiled tightly, “Just… doing my job.”

You looked up to face him. There was something cloudy and stormy in his expression that you couldn’t quite read.

He was such a hard man to read, Kamo Noritoshi. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know much about the man who is your soulmate.

Noritoshi pulled back with his usual solemn expression. “You should go on ahead and get some rest. Good night.”

“Good night Noritoshi senpai.” You weakly called out, before going back into your room. Your heart had never pounded this hard and fast before, you were sure. You had trouble going to sleep that night, remembering the second vision you both shared.

On the other hand Noritoshi’s head was spinning by the time he got back into his room. He could still feel the ghost of the kiss from the vision and wondered how it would feel to hold you close to him like that.

◇◇◇

During the weekend, Noritoshi went back to the Kamo Clan estate and told his father of everything that had occurred between the two of you. As soon as he finished his father softly slammed down a fist on his desk out of excitement.

“It’s been how many years since the last known living pair of soulmates existed? They were so highly regarded that most pairs chose to live in complete isolation out of fear of being targeted. We need to be careful, but this is truly a blessing from the heavens.” His father smiled.

Noritoshi’s dad pushed a book towards him. “We were able to find a very old record of soulmates from our clan’s history. Kamo no Hotaru. A man who lived quietly, after eloping with his soulmate away from the Kamo clan. His partner was said to be a woman from the Abe clan. They supposedly died in battle, according to records. This happened during the rise of curses right before the Heian era.” His father spoke solemnly.

Noritoshi felt chills run up his spine upon hearing his words. “The woman’s name is unknown. But her parents were known to have not approved of her involvement with Hotaru kun. This was as written in the diary entries of Hotaru. Curses and curse users alike were drawn towards their synergy and tried to break them apart or at least kill one of them.”

“They might have survived had they stayed with their families, but they chose love above all. Back then it was not yet widely known about how soulmates’ offsprings could have a power far greater than their parents’, but now we do. But even apart from that, a soulmate bond is said to make both halves grow stronger. So make sure that you don’t let go of her. Charm her and make sure she stays with you. A stronger bond will give you strength as a Jujutsu sorcerer.” His father orders him.

The words were swimming in Noritoshi’s head. But… “If it’s simply falling for her and making her fall for me, it should come naturally with time father. To be frank, I’ve been attracted to her since our first meeting. I will do my best.” Noritoshi said firmly.

◇◇◇

Days after your first mission, Noritoshi’s words from your first mission together still bothered you. It was so dumb on your part. “You don’t know me.” Those words just kept repeating in your mind. It wasn’t wrong.

Make no mistake, Noritoshi didn't mean to offend you at all. From his point of view, he only wanted you to tell him the real reason as to why you saved him without thinking of your actions. He didn't mean to hurt you with his words.

You tried to let it go, knowing that he was just extra worried at that time. But to be honest, it was something that still hung over you. You wished to know him better, not only as a soulmate, but also as a friend.

Everytime Noritoshi came around you and greeted you hello, your heart would tighten just a bit. He could start to feel the weighted heaviness on your soul that he didn't realize was yours via the bond.

He simply thought that he was also feeling down for no reason. It was a long way, distinguishing whose emotions were whose, as the bond is still so fresh between the two of you.

And so he gave his mother a call and scheduled a meetup with her.

“Hello? Mother. Yes, I am well. How are you? …. That’s good to hear. Are you free this weekend? …. Nothing really, I just wanted to see you. …. Yes, me too. …. All is going well here at school, you don’t have to worry I promise. … Yes father is okay. …. Thank you, I’ll see you this Saturday then. Goodbye.” Beep.

◇◇◇

In the following weeks, Noritoshi had been incredibly busy to say the least. He was finally getting promoted to a semi grade 1 as long as he does well in his next mission.

His father was constantly reminding him to make sure he makes you fall in love with him as his soulmate, and hurry it up so that the rest of the clan can meet you already. And he just really wanted to see his mother.

One afternoon you tried to cheer him up after noticing his bad moods. You made senpai some coffee and brought him pastries in your free time.

You sent him a text saying you had something for him. He replied that you could stay for a bit in his room.

“Pardon my intrusion!” You called out as you went in. The door was left unlocked for you. “Come in.” Noritoshi looked up tiredly. His eyes had heavy bags and he looked so exhausted.

“I’m sorry to be bothering you. I just brought some coffee and pastries here so that you can regain a bit of energy senpai.” you whispered, not wanting to be too loud for him.

“It’s not a bother. I’ve just been swamped with so much work as of the late.”

"Senpai, have you… considered getting a bit of rest first? The TOEIC is still a long way to go." You stared at the papers that read "TOEIC 990" stacked on top of his desk.

"I have other matters I’m attending to. Family business and other missions." He grunted while continuing to write down on his paper. He was definitely stressed and overworked.

Maybe he needed someone, like a family member. You tried to empathize with him, "I see. Have you heard from your mom and dad lately? I also understand if you're feeling homesick, I feel the same…" You trailed off upon seeing his face tighten at the mention of his mother.

Your heart dropped.

"That's none of your business." He whispered coldly without thinking.

Fuck y/n. You stepped on a landmine.

You inhaled sharply, backing away. “Ah, I’m so sorry to be intruding. I stepped out of bounds. Please get as much rest as you need.”

You quickly excused yourself from his room feeling so confused from his sudden cold demeanour.

Noritoshi reached out to you, “Wait! I didn’t-” but you already closed his door and stumbled out of his room faster than he could react.

He gave a deep sigh, not meaning to offend you or anything. He just wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone else, and that included you at the moment.

He was just feeling stressed, because he had to cancel his meetup with his mother since his father demanded to talk with him about other clan matters.

He groaned out in frustration. “I’ll have to talk and apologize to her later.” He noticed a heavy and sharp tugging at his heart. He dropped his pen in surprise and stared at his chest in confusion.

"This… these aren't my emotions…" it dawned on him finally. Finally, you both are starting to share very strong bursts of emotion.

Pain and sorrow. Your emotions washed over him like a tidal wave, so sudden that he didn't realize tears were running down one side of his left eye.

He felt guilt and regret like never before.

◇◇◇

A strong wave of regret and guilt stabbed through you. You were pretty sure that these were Noritoshi's emotions.

You finally started feeling something from his end, but you just felt heavy. Was it supposed to be tiring to be a fated pair? Or was it just the bond that was messing up both of your emotions?

You couldn’t even ask anyone else for help, because currently there are no known living soulmates. Besides you and Noritoshi that is.

◇◇◇

The next time you met each other, it was a bit awkward. You tried to give him space during the past few days, understanding that it must be what he needed.

After all, he didn't seem too keen on the way you tried to connect with him last time. You probably overstepped your boundaries. It's true, even though you're soulmates, you're still just friends at this stage.

But Noritoshi found himself looking for you. Trying to catch you in his free time, he finally found you in the weaponry, training with your twin blades.

He stared at your figure. You looked like you were dancing rather than fighting. Smaller daggers controlled by your cursed energy flew around you, covering for any blind spots.

They came to a halt as you set them down and deactivated your technique.

"May I help you Noritoshi senpai?" You asked without turning to look at him. He felt his throat tighten up.

"I came to apologise." Your fingers twitched as though itching to throw your dagger at him. But of course you would never.

"Ahhh, it's okay, Noritoshi senpai. I'm sorry for rudely not minding my own business. Even though we might be soulmates, you're not my boyfriend. We are just good friends aren't we?" You said as you finally turned to face him.

‘Set the boundaries and define the relationship’, you thought to yourself.

Every word you said felt like you were pushing the needle deeper in your heart. It hurt, and you both knew it.

He stepped towards you, standing inches away and shaking his head. "I took out my anger and stress on you, and that was wrong of me. I'm sorry. I do care about you deeply, and you're much more than a friend. You are a very special person to me.``

"Don't say words you don't mean Noritoshi senpai. Please." Your heart was slowly crumbling. He looked pained. "I am not lying. Please believe me.”

But you shook your head and stood your ground. You could feel a fraction of his emotions at this stage of the bond. And you knew in your heart that he was just as confused as you are, trying to feel his way into this relationship.

Noritoshi’s father’s words echoed in his head, ‘Don’t let her go.’

"Don't be unfair to me y/n. If I need time I need it. And I will surely fall for you. If you need time, I’ll also give it to you." He whispered out urgently. "We have a lifetime together."

How did he always sound so sure of himself? Of the future for both of you? You looked back up at him with teary eyes. It sounded so wrong, like he was forcing himself to love you just for the sake of the bond. Does that even count...

"To be honest with you, I don't know what to feel right now senpai." Your voice cracked. His heart broke upon seeing you like this. But nothing can be done.

Does the knowledge of a soulbond always bring a pair together or does it doom two people who are not yet ready to love?

"Wait for me." He promised as he took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes. Your marks felt warm.

You finally felt yourself calm down. And it was so frustrating that you're becoming so dependent on him, turning to him for physical affection. He was the cause of your sorrows and joys altogether.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi #blood bound #red strings of fate #noritoshi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #noritoshi angst #mahito #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fic #kamo noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x y/n #noritoshi fluff #kamo noritoshi x you #jjk kamo #noritoshi x you

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obeymefictionwriting · 3 years

Text

Open Wound

It’s been a while since I wrote a big fanfiction so here you go. This time it’s dedicated to Beel and I shall warn ya - it’s a bit darker tha my previous works. No violence or gore but a focus on psychology and inner problems.

“Oh no, not again!”

I heard Satan’s voice far from the kitchen and shivered. When Satan was not in the mood (which, to be honest, was almost always the case), it was better to keep away from him. I’ve witnessed numerous times how quickly he flew in rage and honestly I was feeling sorrow for whoever of the brothers made him lose his temper.

I wondered what made him so made this time but then my D.D.D. rang.

“New incoming message to the HOL chat: Beel, stop eating ALL food in the fridge! Now we are out of food for dinner so go and get some!!!!”

Uh-oh. I bet Satan, as usual, wanted to get a light snack in the middle of his reading marathon and all he saw was an empty fridge. But I didn’t feel bad for Satan - I was actually worried about Beelzebub.

I get it, he is the Avatar of Gluttony and all. But something really wasn’t right about the amounts of food he consumed. Like, how can one possibly eat so much? And why?

I knew Beel too well to buy a simple “the Avatar of Gluttony” answer. I knew how passionate he could be about sports or about movies and music. And I’d never believe that he’d constantly feel hungry just because he is the avatar of gluttony.

I went to Beel’s room because I wanted to see him and I also wanted to join him on the shopping trip. Luckily, he was alone in the room. Belphie must be napping somewhere else and it was probably the attic.

“Oh, it’s you!” Beelzebub gave me a big smile. “I was worried it was Satan who’d come to scold me again.

“Mind if I join you for shopping?”

“Sure. I love spending time with you and was actually planning to ask you to come with me.”

We sneaked out of the house and headed to the store. While in the store, I firmly took over the shopping list. I gave in though when I saw the way Beel stares at some delicacies. “I think Lucifer won’t mind” I murmured as Beel was loading the shopping cart with packages.

“Phew that’s a lot,” Beel said enthusiastically as he easily grabbed all our bags. Once again I was amazed at how strong and cheerful he was. Seems like he never had a time of weakness: at least I couldn’t remember him whining, complaining, or showing a moment of weakness. Always reliable, always happy, and always…

“GRRRRRRRR.”

Hungry. Of course.

“Sorry,” He looked embarrassed. “All this shopping made me hungry. Mind if we stop by Madam Scream’s?”

I didn’t mind at all as I was craving something sweet. When we arrived, the place was crowded as usual but the owner, Madam Scream herself, saw Beel and gave us a wide sincere smile.

“Isn’t it my favorite customer!” She said, approaching us and hugging Beel. It was a funny thing to see, considering the woman was quite short and Beel was twice as big as her. He hugged her back carefully as if concerned about hurting her but she didn’t seem to notice.

“My boy, you always lift my mood. How about a small cozy table right there?” And she showed us a comfortable-looking table in a dark isolated corner. In this way, almost no one could hear us and we could observe the whole cafe as if being invisible.

“That’s great, thank you!” Beel beamed with enthusiasm. “Can we have two of your famous milkshakes for the start?”

She smiled again and left, leaving two menus on the table. We sat down and Beel immediately grabbed the menu and began studying it. Once our milkshakes appeared on the table, he took a large sip and looked at me happily:

“I’m just so glad I’m here with you and sharing my favorite food”, he said.

I felt guilty for a moment as I was about to ask him an unpleasant question. But if I didn’t, it would keep bothering me. So I took a deep breath and blurted out:

“Beel, is there a reason you eat so much? Except for you being the Avatar of Gluttony, of course. I just feel… I feel there is something more to it. Sorry if I’m wrong. And sorry for asking.”

As I was looking at his face getting darker I really blamed myself for asking. Like, what’s my problem? It’s his life and his appetite doesn’t seem to do any harm so why did I even bother?

He’s been silent for quite some time and I was about to open my mouth, apologize and think of a way to make it up but suddenly he spoke.

“Guess I should tell you. Nobody knows, even Belphie, because this is something I never wanted to share with anyone. But I feel I can trust you. Just promise you won’t tell anyone.”

I nodded and he continued:

“Remember I told you how all three of us - me, Belphie, and Lilith - would go to the human world? I really liked it back there and what I loved most was a small pastry shop in the corner of some empty street. I remember not many people went there because they preferred bigger shops but that one was my favorite.”

His voice suddenly became sadder and I saw something in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. Was it… grief?

“There was this girl who ran the shop. She was really cute and the first time she saw me, she laughed really hard because I ate almost everything they had. Of course, she had no idea I was a demon, and still, she wasn’t scared of my appetite - she was entertained! And this fascinated me so much that I… I didn’t feel as hungry as I usually did. Instead, I was feeling all sorts of different feels: interest, happiness. Love.”

As he admitted it, I was stunned. Of course, I knew how soft and caring Beel was but I never really thought about his love life before. For me, he was a real family guy who’d spend all his time on his family and sports. And all of a sudden, it turns out there was a human girl whom he loved?

He continued:

“I started visiting her almost every day and she was really happy to see me. She’d bake special pastries just for me and I’d tell her stories about different countries and worlds. She called me a storyteller but she loved listening to them.

I’d carry her around a lot and she was as light as a feather. I remember the way her skin smelled: vanilla and something flowery. She’d hug me really tight, scared that we might fall, but she trusted me completely and more than anything I cherished her trust.

As we grew closer, she was telling me about herself and her family. I learned that she has a small brother and that her parents were too old to run a shop so she took care of it instead. I even met her brother and he taught me how to play football. Can you imagine: a six-year-old boy teaching the team captain of Devildom? It was hilarious!

Of course, my brothers were suspecting something but all of them thought I was just drawn to human food. All, except Lucifer. He clearly understood what was going on but just let it be… Only once did he say: be careful because humans do not last long. But at that time, I didn’t care.”

He stopped and took another sip of his milkshake. When he looked back at me, he had tears in his beautiful violet eyes.

“And then she was gone. I didn’t visit the shop for a week or so because we had an important game. When I came to the shop, rushing to see her, there was an old lady at the counter. She saw me looking surprised and said “Oh, must be the boy Yuki told me about!” She then broke into tears and said something I never expected.

Yuki had cancer and… and she left me. She left her family and me. And I was busy playing the game and never ever thought she was struggling all this time. After all these years, I feel so guilty still. And food just reminds me of her.”

As he said it, my eyes were full of tears too. Now everything was clear to me: his uncontrollable appetite and the constant willingness to help others. He didn’t want any of his loved people to get hurt again. And he was using food to forget about the past.

“Oh Beel,” I took his hand. “Is there any way I can help you? I’m so sorry. And sorry for asking.”

When he looked at me, I was surprised to see that something changed about him. Something I couldn’t quite tell…

“After keeping it inside me all these years… Talking about it is what helped me,” He said. “I feel as if something heavy was lifted from my chest. I will remember Yuki forever, of course I will. But now I feel… liberated. You understand what I’m saying?”

“I do. And you can always talk to me whenever you feel like,’ I said, stroking his cheek.

Beelzebub smiled and I felt relieved.

“And to be honest, I don’t feel like finishing my milkshake,’ he suddenly said. “Let’s go home instead. Satan must be mad so we better bribe him with food.”

He stood up and held out his hand to me. As I took it, I felt his fingers squeezing mine. And I knew what it meant. He was thanking me.

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub imagines

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dreamieofu · 4 years

Text

7 Minutes in Heaven

pairing; exboyfriend!haechan x reader word count; 2.1k genre; fluff, so much fluff... warnings; idk, alcohol(?) not even mentioned but it’s a party so... also reader has small confession about insomnia. summary; your ex is back in town, and when you’re accidentally caught in seven minutes of heaven... you ask him to sing for you.

a/n: requested! ♡ i had a lot of fun writing this, and it really warms my heart.. i guess everyone needs a little haechan to sing to them.

He was coated in florescent lights, a sheen of sweat glistening his skin as he stood there, across the room. Eyes lowered, diverted from yours. He’s suited in a leather jacket over a white tee, ripped jeans and his favourite trainers. Even though you both were surrounded by a swarm of people, it was like a spotlight shone over him. Golden boy, Lee Donghyuck. You stay eyeing him from the distance, teeth bitten onto the rim of your plastic cup. It’s only been a few days since you’ve heard he was back in town, his name brought back memories and he seemed to be more glowing than ever. It frustrated you how your heart was still soft for him, and you confirm that in your mind because you’re still watching him. Glance unwavering as he laughs. You used to date a few years back, and broke up due to the distance. He was leaving town, and so he left you. But a lot has changed throughout the years, you’re both a lot more older. You did date a few times after he left, but you never seemed to forget the way he would make you feel. Donghyuck was your first love, and you were his.

“He looks good doesn’t he?” Jaemin grins.

You mindlessly nod, agreeing with his words in seconds. Jaemin was your closest friend, he was the only one out of your group of friends who remembers Donghyuck. “I don’t remember him looking like that,” You tell Jaemin, tilting your head before finally tearing your eyes away from Donghyuck. You take a sip from your cup, hating how you couldn’t enjoy yourself. Your mind was constantly drifting back to Donghyuck ever since he walked into the house party. Donghyuck was close friends with the host of the party, and from what you’re aware of, he still was. “Have you spoken to him yet? Donghyuck.” Jaemin questions, head pointing towards Donghyuck’s direction across the room before taking another gulp from his cup. “No…Should I? I don’t know, what if he doesn’t remember me?” Your insecurities more vocal, as you look Jaemin in the eye for reassurance. Wanting to hear something along the lines of, “How could he forget you?” But you could only hear Jaemin’s laughter following after your words. You nudge his shoulder pushing him backwards a bit, before he pretends to be hurt. His hand following where you pushed him to smooth out his shirt. “Well, you never know,” He almost sings, eyebrows dancing as another playful smirk graces his features.

You peer over your shoulder in attempt find Donghyuck again, quickly falling onto the spot you remembered he last was. But he wasn’t there. It made sense, he wouldn’t stand in the same spot for hours. Yet, a little sadness twinged in your heart because you lost him in the crowd. “He’s gone,” you pout to Jaemin. Hearing nothing in response, you repeat your words with a tiny whine. Looking back to face him, you connect eyes with the man himself. “Who’s gone?”. His voice was deeper than you remember, velvet. He grew taller too. You fumble with your words, upon seeing him upclose. Your lips part ready to reply, but nothing comes out. And you swear you can see Jaemin holding back the biggest smile seeing you all flustered. Mentally you want to push him again, but you’re caught. You couldn’t take your eyes away from Donghyuck. “Just some random guy she was eyeing,” Jaemin saves you, amusement in his tone as Donghyuck looks at him. Finally letting go of his gaze, you try your best to get a hold of your composure. Your hand reaches to touch your face, feeling heated. The sudden hyper awareness of the atmosphere makes you kind of light headed. “I’ll get you another drink,” Jaemin speaks louder, his hand taking your cup. He manouvers between you and Donghyuck before giving Donghyuck a cheeky smile. Jaemin left you alone with him, and you silently curse him for doing so. “Long time no see…” Donghyuck smiles, a breathtaking smile. You helplessly mirror him, feeling your cheeks raise. “Yeah, long time no see,”.

“How’ve you been?” He feels a lot more mature, you can’t pinpoint what it is but it makes you even more attracted to him. Feeling his aura closer at you, his presence intoxicating. You nod along with his words, smile never leaving. “I’ve been good.” “I can tell,”. Not only did he have all these new attributes about him drawing you in second by second, he was also smooth with his talk. You watch him lick his lips slightly. By now you’ve lost your smile. Feeling shy under his gaze. “How long will you be staying?” You question, genuinely curious but also as a way to not think about his previous words. “A few weeks,”. You nod understanding his words, your mouth opening to ask another question but nothing comes to mind. “You look good,” You confess, slightly embarrassed and he makes sure you stay that way when he gives you a questioning look. “What did you say?” His hand cups one of his ears, as he leans a bit closer to you. The music evidently more louder than before. You attempt to raise you voice even louder, losing confidence whilst doing so, “You look good!” You repeat. He only shakes his head, boldly taking your hand to push through the crowd. Your feet move on their own as they follow him. Donghyuck looks good from the back also, and a part of you wants to run your hand through his hair. But you’re quick to physically shake that idea away from your thoughts, as he brings you into a room. You look around, a window to the right, curtains drawn open left slightly ajar. The room was dark, dimly lit with a bed in the middle and other furniture. You give him a questioning look as he shuts the door behind you both. He’s panting a small bit, as he turns around to you. A small smile on his face, “What did you say back there? I couldn’t hear you.” He sounded so innocent you didn’t really mind the way the room felt. Being alone. “I said: You look good,” Shyness creeping on you as you look away from him, to look at the posters on the wall. You get startled by the loud banging on the other side of the door.

“You got seven minutes!”. You look back at each other with wide eyes, obviously shocked at the realisation. “I guess we’re in 7 minutes of heaven,” He laughs. You smile at him, liking the way his laugh sounds. “I guess we are,”

Even with the room being dark, away from the coloured lights outside. Donghyuck still looked amazing, and you couldn’t get over it. “So what? Are we going to kiss now?” He jokes, running a hand though his hair. “No…” You say gently. You can’t tell if it was a joke or if he was serious. Donghyuck chuckles lightheartedly anyway. It was nice, reuniting with him this way, he made you feel comfortable. Sudden warmth surrounds you as your mind starts reeling old memories. Together you spent a few short minutes laughing and reminicing about the past, really catching up on life and sharing jokes about the days when you were dating. You both were now sat at the foot of the bed, next to each other. His laughter dies down slowly after yours.

You smile at him, the silence holding both of you close. Although, the sounds from outside were muffled, it felt good to be detached from the crowd. You never expected to spend your night like this, with Donghyuck. In knowing so, you muster up courage. “To be honest… Lately I’ve been having a lot of insomnia,” Your voice quiet, but he hears you none the less. A sympathtic look falls on his face, as he kindly offers you a smile of encouragement to continue. “And I don’t know if it’s because of the room right now, or the fact that you’re actually here after all these years,” You ramble, hands clasped together nervously. Looking up at Donghyuck as he places one of his warm hand on top of yours. Your eyes connect and you swear it’s like a flashback. “But can you sing for me?” You nervously request.

Eyes full of hope, he gives you a small smile and an innocent kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes at his gesture. Sinking into the side of his body as he places one of his arms behind you holding you close. “Okay,” He agrees in a whisper. Not a few moments later, your head is under his chin and resting at his shoulder. He sings you one of your favourite songs. You’d be lying if you were to say you weren’t touched that he still remembers. He feels familiar, and his voice is everything you needed. He sings with care laced around each word. Donghyuck makes you feel safe. You’ve not felt this relaxed in weeks, and he’s so effortlessly cleared your thoughts. Everything in your mind was about him, the way the breath of this tone kissed your ears. And how his hand was still on top of yours rubbing his thumb rhythmically as he gently rocks you. You move your hands away from his touch, and pull your head back to look at him. Your heart racing, as he stops singing. “Are you okay?” He asks, genuine concern in his tone. You almost tear up at how gentle he was with you. His eyes glistening from the moonlight. You nod bringing your head down, knocking it against his chest lightly. His hand instinctively reaches out to stroke the back of your head. You slowly lift your head from his chest and look up at him. He is so soft, and he’s understanding. Staying quiet even though you’re acting a bit odd and you appreciate it. “Donghyuck…” You whisper his name, and he hums in response. “Is it okay to kiss you right now?”. He looks a bit taken aback, but doesn’t show any discomfort. He kinda gleams at you, the left corner of his lips raises upwards as he melts at your words. If he were honest with himself this time. He did have hopes in bumping into you, his mind thought about you often thoughout the years. He was hoping to find you again in his visit back into town. And hearing you say such words, has his heart soaring with the stars. He chuckles though, at your awaiting gaze. “Sure.” His finger barely traces your jaw as he lifts your chin towards him. Bringing your lips close, just about to touch - when…

“TIME’S UP!!!” Someone yanks the door wide, completely ruining the moment as you snap your eyes open.

Your head falls back into his chest in embarassment. The music from the party spilling in the room, as the lights meet your vision again. You quickly shut your eyes inwardly groaning as you felt him laugh. His hand soothes your back before he quickly guides you both to your feet. You keep your head low, as he instinctively grabs hold of your hand to leave the room. “Thanks man,” Donghyuck smirks sarcastically to the person who opened the door.

Once you both reach outside, another couple make their way into the room. You look back and watch them as they shut the door behind them. A pout plays on your lips, thinking about how close that kiss was. Donghyuck notices you sulking to yourself, and it makes him smile. “Hey,” He speaks loudly against the music gaining your attention. You’re quick to look at him because he also lets go of your hand whilst saying so. You don’t have time to complain from the loss of contact before that same hand cups the side of your face to crash his lips onto yours. It was sudden, but his eyes were already closed as he places his lips between yours. It makes you forget everything, the fact that there are people present around you. All you could think about was the way his lips were so soft. Once you relaxed into his touch, his other hand pulls you toward him, wrapping around your waist behind you. Deepening the kiss, as he starts a slow pace. Your hands creeping up, trailing against his torso, to his chest to then link around his neck. He kisses different from your memories, it was better and filled with so much more passion than you could’ve recalled. It had your mind going blank, your everything in his control. He begins to kiss you with a bit more urgency, as if almost saying “I missed this, and I’ve missed you,” He pulls away from you, lips a bit swollen as he licks them. His eyes never leaving yours, as you smile with him. “Let me take you home,”

#nct scenarios #nct127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #haechan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios #haechan imagines #donghyuck imagines #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #haechan soft hours #donghyuck soft hours #haechan x you #nct fluff #nct127 fluff #nct dream fluff

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Text

5 times a Tremblay sibling kept a secret and 1 time they did not - Noelle

Hi! So, I was going to write this as a 5+1 one-shot, but each individual story has gotten a bit too lengthy for that. I’m having great fun exploring the Tremblay siblings and their relationships with one another. I hope you enjoy it too!

CW: forced outing and wedding talk. Please message me if you feel like something needs to be added to this list.

Rating: T

See my masterlist for future and previous chapters!

Thank you to @the-mouse-in-a-jumper and @anderperries for betaing this!

And last, but most certainly not least, a massive thank you to @lumosinlove for the creation of the sweater weather universe and the wonderful OC’s (including the Tremblay siblings) within it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Keep them covered,” Noelle said, her voice laced with a hint of hesitation. She was confident that Sydney was going to love the dress, it was an exact replica of the one that her sister had drawn in her wedding scrapbook. The problem was in the obtaining of that scrapbook.

"They are!" Sydney laughed, “When can I see? Am I finally going to find out why you have been holed up in here?”

Noelle tried to run her fingers through her buzz cut. A nervous habit. She still wasn't used to the short length even 3 weeks after the spontaneous decision. It was now or never. "Okay, you can open them,” she rushed out, squeezing her own eyes shut as she said the words, not wanting to see Sydney's reaction.

“Wow, Nolly. It’s beautiful.” Sydney gasped. Noelle opened her eyes to see Sydney's hand reaching out to brush against the delicate ivory lace. "It looks just like -" Sydney paused, her eyes narrowing as she whipped her head around to look back at Noelle. Yeah, there was the anger that Noelle had been expecting. "How did you know? I've only - Did you? You couldn't have! That book is in my - What the fuck, Noelle?!" Sydney spat out the words. Noelle wanted to explain but the questions just kept coming. "How could you? I can't believe you'd invade my privacy like this." Sydney's hand finally dropped from where it was inspecting the dress.

"Syd, please. Just let me explain," Noelle begged, "I know I've done some pretty selfish things before, but I promise there's an explanation."

Sydney raised an eyebrow and Noelle suddenly felt like she was ten years old again, standing beneath their father's steely gaze, explaining their neighbour's broken window.

"Oh, go on then, Noelle. Wriggle yourself out of this one," Sydney scoffed.

"Okay, well," Noelle began. "So, maybe this whole thing didn't start off with the best of intentions. I needed to borrow some money and I still owed you for those concert tickets and I know you keep emergency cash in your keepsake box," she paused, risking a look at her sister. She looked as furious as Noelle expected. Still, it was Sydney, and not Logan, so she was still standing there. "Bear with me, I'm getting to the part where you don't kill me, promise."

"Get there quicker," Sydney ground out. She might have been the most patient of her siblings, but she was still a Tremblay after all.

"Alright, alright," Noelle flashed her hands in surrender. "I was going to replace the money, I swear. I just needed $100 quickly and I didn't want to ask Papa et Maman again so soon after last time."

"Noelle, I don't see how your ability to drain your allowance in record time gets to you stealing something that was clearly private," Sydney snapped.

"Well, I was looking for the money when I came across your wedding scrapbook. I'm not going to lie, I started looking through it with the intention of absolutely rinsing you. Wait," Noelle quickly rooted through her purse, finding the black scrapbook, 'The Dream' written in Sydney's precise lettering across it. "Here," Noelle breathed, holding it out. Sydney snatched it, clutching it to her chest.

"It's just, you always chirped at me for doing things like this growing up, and there you were… Anyway, that doesn't matter now. I was going through it and it became obvious that," Noelle reached out to touch Sydney's arm. "If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to. We can pretend I never saw."

"Bit fucking late for that now, isn't it Nolly," Sydney's eyes were watering. She never cried.

Noelle worried at her lip, "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I didn't think. You know I never think."

“So yeah, you established that I was raging lesbian." Sydney pulled away from her, rubbing at her eyes. Noelle winced, both at the words and the obvious wall that Sydney was putting up. They'd worked on their relationship a lot in the past few years and Noelle was afraid she might have ruined it. "Carry on, because I really am struggling to see how this dress came from that."

"Yeah, so I realised...that." Noelle took a deep breath, knowing that she had a limited number of words before she lost Sydney's attention. "And I wanted you to know that I don’t care, that I love you, but you know me, I’m not really the best with words. And then I saw the dress and I knew I could make it...and just...Sydney, please don’t hate me.”

There was a deafening silence as Sydney paced back and forth. It was long and Noelle wanted to say more, but she didn’t know what. She watched as Sydney stopped in front of the mannequin. It seemed like an age before she moved. “I wasn’t ready,” Sydney whispered. “I wasn’t ready and you took that from me. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me but you have. When are you going to learn to think, Noelle?”

Noelle didn’t reply. She couldn’t reply. Not when the words coming out of Sydney’s mouth sounded so much like the ones she had heard a thousand times before from their mother. Her eyes dropped to the floor, feeling like a scolded child. Honestly, she hadn’t thought of how much this could hurt Sydney. Sure, she had been nervous that Sydney would be angry that she had read the scrapbook, but mostly because Sydney liked to pretend she was above that kind of thing. “I’m sorry.”

Noelle heard Sydney turn around and walk the short distance to stand in front of her. “Look at me,” Sydney insisted. Despite the fact that she didn’t want to see the hurt in her sister’s eyes, Noelle followed the instruction, not wanting to annoy her any more than she already had.

“You can say sorry all you like. It means nothing if you keep doing the same stupid things. You're twenty now, Nolly. You’re going to be playing professionally next year if the scouts have any sense. You can’t keep fucking up,” Sydney lectured.

Noelle squashed the urge to tell Sydney where to get off with her parenting. She didn’t really have the room to complain. “Okay, so you don’t like it. I’ll get rid of it. Can we just pretend this didn’t happen?”

Sydney gave a small laugh. It was the last thing Noelle had expected. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it, it’s perfect.”

Noelle chanced a smile, “It’s all your design. I didn’t know you could draw like that, honestly.”

“I didn’t draw it,” Sydney said. Noelle noticed her playing with the fleur-de-lis hanging around her neck. She was nervous. “Spoons did.”

It took Noelle a beat to reply, but when she did it was loud, “Wait. Spoons. Spoons as in Spooner? As in Melodie Spooner. As in the Star’s Melodie Spooner. As in your team mate, Melodie Spooner! Wait a minute.” Her eyes locked with Sydney’s, “Did you tell your team before you told us?”

“No, I haven’t told the team yet.” Sydney sighed. “Not that I would apologise even if I had. I can come out to whoever I want, whenever I want,” she added indignantly.

“If you haven’t told the team yet…” Noelle began, and then she squealed with excitement. “Holy shit! Is she your girlfriend? Do you have a girlfriend? This is so cute!”

Sydney clamped her hand over Noelle’s mouth, “Tell the whole house, why don’t you.”

Noelle stopped bouncing up and down. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just so happy for you. You know I really don’t care that you’re...you know?”

Sydney grimaced as she pulled her hand away from Noelle’s mouth, rubbing the traces of saliva on her shirt. “You are aware that you can say lesbian, right?”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” Noelle mumbled. “So...you like the dress? Will you wear it to your wedding?”

Sydney rolled her eyes, “A bit premature, don’t you think? And, we already established that I liked the dress. I am still mad at you, by the way. Breathe a word about this to anybody and I will not forgive you. I mean it. No second chances on this one.”

Noelle nodded quickly, pretending to zip her mouth closed, “I won’t tell anybody, I swear.”

Sydney nodded, and Noelle watched her take in the dress. It was relatively simple: a halter neck with an empire waist that fell to the floor.

“I did add one small addition, I hope you don’t mind,” Noelle said, manipulating the material of the dress just below the waist.

“Pockets,” Sydney admired. “Genius.”

“I thought so.” Noelle agreed. She cocked her head. “So, I know you said that you were still mad at me, but can I use this for my final?”

“Don’t push your luck, Nolly.”

#happy ending #noelle tremblay #sydney tremblay #lumosinlove #weddings #lesbian #lgbt+#queer #Sweater Weather #Coast To Coast

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calientecoochie · 3 years

Text

It Happened So Fast-

•2•

“AHH”

The red giant backed up and put his hands up in the air and waved them frantically. “<Wha-hooooahh! Calm down. Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you! That’s wasn’t very manly was it. Gah, bad first impression, I guess, ha.” The redhead rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“<You’re Red Riot. The~huh~ the Red Riot>” Yes, yes you were gaping like a fish in a desert. How could a man be so tall?! He is literally towering over everybody here. What is he like 7’?! Does his bones hurt? What the hell is a Bakugo... Oh, he staring at me. How long have I been staring!

“<Uhmm>” Red Riot waves his hands in front of your face, “Helloooo, anybody, homeeeee?” His voice sounds so velvety and heroic. “<I should really work on my introductions...this happens way more often then it should. Let me write that down so I don’t forget.>” The Pro Hero stares down at you, “<I’ll give you a lift, Y/N, since you’re like in a trance. LET’S GO TO MY OFFICE! I CAN SHOW YOU PICTURES FROM MY UA DAYS AND SOME COOL AWARDS. SO MANLY!>” With that your new boss lifted you up and threw you over his broad shoulders.

He continued to talk Y/N’s ear off with you not understanding much of what Red was saying but, appreciating it either way seeing as it was helping you unwind from the earlier shock. As the pair walked through the agency, Y/N took in the place. Even though, the place is a big on inside as it was on the outside, it wasn’t as daunting as you thought it would be. The people and heroes around here are smiling and waving towards you. You were handed a balloon with a crudely drawn face (it was meant to resemble you) with a many , “おめでとう” thrown your way as you and your boss entered the elevator.

“<Here we go! Can you stand?>” Red sets you down on your feet with ease as he presses the button to his floor. He drums his fingers across the steel doors then turn towards you with one of his award winning smiles. You swear it melt the steel in these elevators, it’s so bright. “<Not going to freak out on my again are you? Y/N>” He tested your name on his tongue, “<Am I saying that right? Ah, I forgot to ask, would you prefer Japanese> or English?” He look at you thoughtfully.

“That’s right. I have not been responding have I?”

“Nope! You have not but, that’s cool. I have a great feeling about you so, I know you’ll be a strong backbone to this company!”

All you could do was stare back in a dream-like state. Look at you! Shame! Getting all star-struck and dumb even being in this man’s presence. Tsk tsk. Better keep this conversation rolling so it doesn’t get awkward. “You were right..”

“Huh, right about what?

“My name. You said it correctly. Ha, pretty funny too, I’m used to people pronouncing it wrong.”

“Well, that’s not very fair to you. It’s your name and it’s a manly name!” Red puffed through his nostrils and smirked.

You bowed you head to hide your blush, “ Thank you, Red Riot.” Why are you acting like this it is so NOT professional at. All.

Red Riot let out a boisterous laugh that you swore shook the elevator, “You don’t have to refer to me by my hero name you know? Just call me Kirishima or even Kiri. Honestly, anything is cool as long as I don’t get called sir. That makes me feel old. Red Riot is reserved for field work though.” With that he winked at you.

“Oh, then, thank you Kir-!”

D I N G

“We’re here!!” He yoinks you from the elevator into his suave office, “ Hasa De Lo Eiji!!”

You heard Sero’s voice speak up, “Casa De La, Ei, casa de la...” He sitting upside down in one of Kirishima’s office chairs surfing his phone looking through Twatter. You thought he was ignoring you until he started waving and kicking his lanky legs excitedly.

Denki was just spinning in Kirishima’s main seat, “<YOU FOUND THEM, MAN?!>”

“<Well, they wasn’t exactly hiding and don’t think there’s many people of their skin tone here in Japan, Denk...>” You only caught a bits and pieces of their conversation, making you giggle a bit.

Denki looked over to you, “Oohoo, you like that, huh? Say how about we get to know each other better? One on one? There’s this really cool place in Shinjuku I’ve been dying to try. Would love to have someone to try it with. Being alone is such a bummer~” While Denki was distracted, Kirishima took his chance and sat in his friend’s lap causing Denki to sputter and attempt to push his taller, “built like a German, concrete home” friend off of him. Shame, you were actually about to take Denki up on his offer. You did want to see what Japan had to offer and it did suck to be alone sometimes.

The day continued as you four began to talk about you, their hero work, the past and, what was in store for the upcoming week. Soon, Denki and Sero left to attended to their own business (they went to Shinjuku), which just left you and Kirishima. You though it would it be awkward, however, it strangely felt like home. This was different from what your country’s media always portrayed of him: Hardy, cold and relentless. Even though that’s what drew you to him, this Kirishima was a nice change of pace as well.

“Hey, hey, Y/N you’re staring again.” The redhead smiled.

“Didn’t mean to, Kirishima. It’s just that you’re so different in real life! I hope you don’t mind me saying but, though you were this boulder of destruction.”

“Not too disappointing, I hope.” He leans his head in his hand, laughing a tiny bit.

“No! Of course not!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking!”

You both just laugh and it dies downs leaving a comfortable silence betwixt you again.

“Well, you got the job for sure!”

“Really t—that’s it?!”

“Yup”

“No strenuous questions?”

“Nope”

“No previous references or written letters from previous employers?”

“Nnurp” he audibly pop his lips to add emphasis to his negatory.

“No-“

“Do you want the job?”

“Of course! It’s just that yo-“

“Then you have it. I have a good feeling about you! I learned to trust my instincts. Obviously, yours brought here to freaking Japan-“

“Well, my friend sent me the email...”

“YOU put in for it and YOU got it. Enjoy it :)”

You rubbed your chin in thought. Starting to overthink the situation and your new way too laidback boss. Was this a mistake? Did I make a good call? As if he could read you mind, Kiri laid his firm hand upon your shoulder, “Let’s get some grub! I can take you home afterwards!”

With that, you’re new life began and with each day you grew more confident in your choices. You learned so many new tips and tricks, learned about and met new people (some more despicable then others), it was like a dream come true. First, you needed Kiri told hold your hand at the beginning, which made you doubt yourself from time to time. However, you got better and faster, already your talent to the max.

The only thing you hated doing the most were the public conferences. They always asked the same questions hoping for different answers or asked about way too personal questions about the heroes within Kirishima’s agency. Questions that would make the man on moon blush. However, you always seemed to Beyoncé your way out of their scandalous questions and steer it right back to where you wanted it.

Of course, your work never went unnoticed or unappreciated. The agency always made sure to make feel wanted and needed. Hah, Bakugo even came in and tried to recruit you for his own agency, in front of your boss. It’s all just been so crazy. It’s almost insane to think it’s almost been a year here. You even remember your old life. To think, you thought the email was a joke. What would I be doing if I never answered it... No point on dwelling on it you guess.

You hear heavy footsteps coming toward your door.

*Clink Click*

“Hmm, I thought these lights shut off automatically... strange” It was your boss! “Let me flu-Oh! Oh, you’re still here?! Y/N , it’s practically morning right now. Why are you still working?”

“You wouldn’t know I was still here if you weren’t here yourself so, Red, what’s your excuse?” You looked up at him playfully smug.

You don’t remember if he’s been flushed from rushing into the office or for his new nickname but, he looked away and swore he tripped on his words when he spoke. “Other than it being my agency, Y/N so, MY responsibility, I like to go for early morning runs. You could probs just call it conditioning from school days. It helps keep my mind from overthinking I guess.

“Overthinking? About what?”

“Heh, what not about” There was a strange unplaceable tone in his voice. He said that sentence barely above a whisper but, you caught it. Kirishima look back towards you and beams. Is he- is he putting up a mask?! Not wanting to strain your work relationship you choose not to press him on the matter. Turning back to your desktop to continue your work until Kiri blocked it. Damn his thick man body!

“Could you please move,Kirishima.”

“Nuh-uh, not until you tell me why you’re still up here working at this ungodly hour.”

You leaned into your seat giving up on trying to move him, you sigh and then smile to yourself not sure if he could see it or not, “ Fine, I’ll spill. I work this late because I love this job. Nowhere else has given me this opportunity and I’m so thankful. I’ve felt so lost for the longest and about gave up on myself. I work this late because I love my friend, they were the ones who even let this opportunity land in my lap even though, they could have easily taken this job. They had more experience. I love my coworkers. Ha, I’ve never been so overwhelmed by support by so many strangers. It’s really emotional and I would hate to let them down. I do all of this because I love and appreciate you, Red... you’ve always stayed by my side and gave encouragement when I needed. Lacking in my work would be like spitting in your face and I would hate for that to happen...”

You keep your eyes shut for a few more seconds soaking in what you just said. It’s been eating at you forever. You’ve long forgotten about how Kiri was like a barnacle stuck to screen and I guess he did as well, seeing as was standing up straight, mouth opening and closing and fiddling with his hands. You look up at him, “That’s why I’m here. You don’t have to worry over me. I’m not a child. Plus, I got YOU and your HERO amigos/amigas on speed dial.” Sero’s been trying to teach you Spanish 💀, it is not working.

“...Do you mean that? You love me?”

“Of course I do, Red.” Kirishima drawn closer to Y/N, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just thought it would be too soon to make a call..”

“I love you , Kirishima...”

“Y-you could call me, Eij-“

“As much as I love Sero and Denki! You all mean so much to me!”

You noted that Kirishima seemed to deflate at your next sentence and even took a step back, “Red, you okay? Need water?”

Kiri shook his head, “N-No I guess I’m just coming down from my runners high! Ha, it always makes me a bit woozy y’know.”

“Oh~”

“Yeahhhh. Welp! Just dont Forget it’s your day off tomorrow okay. No coming in! No matter how much you //luhhhh// us.” That was weird. Luh? ,”Oh I also have a question. The hero gala is coming up soon and we have to bring a +1. Would you like to come with me? I’ll cover your clothes~!”

“The Hero Gala?? Are you sure wouldn’t you want to bring another, I don’t know, hero?”

“Well, I could but, I asked you. You were my first choice either way. If it’ll help you could think about it like good PR.”

As you always do, you think about it. Unlike the other times, your mind was already made up.

“Yes, Red, I would love to go.”

#bnha x black!reader #y/n x bnha #y/n x mha #y/n x kirishima #y/n #fanfic #reader x kirishima #mha x black!reader #mha kirishima #pro hero kirishima #mha #bnha

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