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sanguineterrain · 3 years

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Brooklyn Honey - Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Repost!) Hello, this is for the lovely @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge. I decided to go with the song prompt “Life in the City” by The Lumineers. It really reminded me of 40s Bucky.

Title: Brooklyn Honey

Summary: Life in the city ain’t always so pretty, but you’ve got Bucky and he’s got you.

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: nah

***

“That’s so not how you do it.”

“Sorry, I must’ve missed the day you wrote the manual on how to put up curtains.”

“You sure did, and I can tell you as an expert, the nails aren’t supposed to resemble a mountain range.”

“Smartass. C’mere.”

Bucky’s palm opened and you took a nail, carefully tapping it into the wall.

“Or is it the skyline you’re going for?”

“You’re pretty mouthy for an assistant.”

“I keep it interesting, doll.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“James Barnes, what on earth are you doing in there?!”

Your eyes went wide and you hurried to scramble off the chair you were standing on. Bucky put a hand on your back, shaking his head.

“Buck—”

“I got it, don’t worry. Keep hammering.”

“But—”

“Honey, don’t you trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

More knocking, faster and louder this time.

“Coming, Mrs. Anderson!”

Bucky buttoned up his shirt, smoothing his pomade-slicked hair back, and went to answer.

You stepped down from the chair anyway, daring to peek around the corner.

He had his arms up, trying to fill the entire door frame and hide the obnoxiously yellow curtains you probably weren’t supposed to have. Mrs. Anderson, Steve and Bucky’s busybody next door neighbor, was a small, shriveled, old woman with a perpetually pinched face that looked like it had been stored in a jar of formaldehyde for the last twenty years. She kept trying to look over Bucky’s shoulder but he wouldn’t let her, moving when she did.

“—could’ve sworn I heard hammering coming from this apartment.”

“Oh! You must’ve heard me fixing my bike.”

“You don’t have a bike, James.”

“Did I say my bike? I meant Steve’s.”

“Steve rides a bike?”

“Absolutely. Keeps him fit.”

“I don’t recall seeing him ever—”

“Well, bye, Mrs. Anderson! Always a pleasure to see you, ma’am.”

She gave another stern look before shaking her head, walking away.

You sighed as Bucky shut the door with his foot, a too sly smile on his face.

“Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”

“I think you might be a worse liar than Steve.”

“Well, ouch, doll.”

“First of all, who’s ever heard of needing a hammer to fix a bike?”

“We can be the first.”

“Next time, I’m answering the door.”

You clambered back onto the chair, returning to knocking in the nails.

“I still don’t understand why you wanted curtains in the first place.”

“It adds a homely touch, doll. Aren’t you the one who’s always complaining about how drab this place is?”

“Of course, but it’s not my apartment.”

“It could be, with how often you’re over,” Bucky said sweetly.

“Keep dreaming, Barnes.”

“I will,” he assured with a smile that could melt butter.

You shook your head and returned to focus on the curtains. True, the first one was beyond help in terms of nail placement, but the least you could do was try and make the next one even.

Bucky had offered at least ten times to do it himself but there was no way he was getting his hands on a hammer after what had happened when he’d tried to install some shelves last winter.

Besides, you were better at decorating when it came down to it. At least, that’s what Bucky kept insisting, letting you do essentially anything you wanted to the apartment.

The chair suddenly groaned under additional weight and you startled as you felt the side of a body press against yours.

“How’s it goin’?”

“Bucky, this chair really isn’t meant for two people.”

“You sure? Seems pretty sturdy to me.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and you fixed him with a look.

“What? Don’t want you to fall.”

“How valiant of you.”

“Ain’t it?”

He hopped off before you could scold him further, grinning up at you.

“Beer?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Bucky disappeared and returned a minute later with an open bottle for you, holding it so you could sip safely while still perched on the chair.

Then you kept hammering, eyes narrowed as you focused on not hitting anything other than the nail.

Bucky watched from the floor as you did so, leaning back on his hands.

“What’re you looking at?” you asked after a while, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He shrugged, a gentle smile on his face.

“The city.”

***

“Honey, I’m home!”

“What did I say about that, Barnes?”

“You said… you’ll love me for all eternity because you’re as sweet as honey?”

“I think it was more along the lines of, ‘don’t call me honey unless you mean it.’”

“I always mean it, Y/N.”

And that was a little more sincerity than you were willing to explore, so you pointed to the bag instead.

“What’s that?”

Bucky grinned, setting a giant paper sack on the counter.

“Lemons.”

“What?”

“Lemons. You know, the little yellow fruits that make you do this?”

Bucky puckered his mouth and smacked his tongue, eyes screwed shut.

“Lemon’s not a fruit.”

“It sure is! Fruit got seeds. Read that in a book about agriculture. We produce a lot of corn, did you know that?“

“Okay, Bucky, the presiding question still remains: why do you have every lemon in the city?”

“There was a good deal at the docks. Dirt cheap for produce. Some guys told me they were takin’ some home for their wives. Didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“I’m not your wife.”

Bucky just grinned. You rolled your eyes.

“I don't know who taught you this, but the way to a girl’s heart is not twenty pounds of lemons.”

“Think of all the lemonade we can make.”

“Unless you’ve also got FDR and his cabinet in those bags, we’re gonna have a lot of leftovers.”

“Look at it this way: no vitamin C deficiency. One less thing to worry ‘bout.”

“Bucky.”

“They’re not all lemons, doll. I got other stuff too. Tomatoes, cabbage, snuck some cucumbers, even bananas.”

You sighed, smiling tiredly. This ration was taking its toll on everyone. You knew Bucky was doing his best, had seen the vegetables and thought of you and how much you missed having cucumber salad and tomato sandwiches like you used to.

“Thank you, Bucky, really. I appreciate you.”

You brushed past him to begin preparing the excess vegetables you three wouldn’t eat this week to pickle. Salt and sugar was going to be hard to gather, but you’d manage. You always did.

“Welcome, doll.”

He beamed, eyes full of warmth as he watched you.

“You gonna stay for dinner?”

“I dunno. Seems like Steve’s gettin’ kinda tired of me,” you laughed.

“Never. ‘Sides, even if he was, doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, really?”

“Nope. ‘Cause you stay for me.”

“And where did you get that idea from?”

He shrugged.

“Seemed kinda obvious, doll. You’re smitten, admit it.”

“Oh dear, you’ve got me all figured out. However did you know?”

“I’m a bright fella.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You ain’t saying no…”

“Really, I have to say no? Can’t you tell I only stick around for the great deals you get on produce?”

“But it’s me that gets the great deals, so really, you’re still staying for me.”

Bucky was against the counter now, shoulder to shoulder with you.

You sighed, hand on your hip as you stared at the table.

“What the hell are we going to do with all these lemons?”

“We’ll figure something out. Always do, don’t we?”

You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, aware he was talking about more than the lemons.

“Yeah. We always do.”

***

Steve had been home for a while, wordlessly letting you in when you’d shown up an hour ago. You didn’t have to explain anything to him anymore.

The record player was on, crooning gently. Steve was in the corner, drawing, away from the window after the breeze had whipped his papers around one too many times.

“Can’t believe they’re building another skyscraper down on Lawrence.”

Steve frowned.

“Really? Won’t be able to see the sunset now.”

“Yeah. And Brooklyn’s not exactly known for its scenery to begin with. Saw a rat and a pigeon fighting over a pretzel this morning.”

Steve chuckled from the floor, shaking his head.

“Times are tough. Even for rats and pigeons.”

“Sure are.”

“Nice curtains, by the way. I like the color.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Did Bucky ask—?”

“No,” he answered, smile evident in his voice. “But that’s alright. I know he’s just tryin’ to gauge what you like.”

“What?”

“Yeah, after the war’s over and all, he’s gonna try and buy a nicer place.”

“And he wants my furnishing tips?”

Steve shrugged, gaze soft and knowing.

“Guess so.”

You cleared your throat, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Want some lemonade?”

“Jesus, there’s more? I thought we’d run out of bushels.”

“You’d think, right? I put ‘em in the icebox so they won’t spoil so fast.”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”

You were in the middle of stirring the pitcher when Bucky came in.

He didn’t greet you or Steve immediately, like he usually did, instead setting down his keys, then slapping the mail onto the table.

“Well, hey there, mister. Fancy a drink? Today’s special is sour lemonade, your favorite.”

Bucky looked up, startled, and glanced at the pitcher before nodding, attempting a half smile.

“Sure, doll. Thanks.”

“Everything okay, Buck?”

He nodded, slipping away to the bathroom with a sigh.

You turned to Steve, who shrugged.

“Long day at the docks, I guess.”

***

June twelfth. That was when Bucky was being shipped out, somewhere in Europe, too far from you. This entire year you’d been holding your breath, hoping, needing the draft to leave him alone.

Now they were taking him away from you in less than a week.

You were in the apartment, lying on the floor, on Bucky’s second to last day. That’s how he found you upon coming home.

“Trying to count all the cracks in the ceiling, doll? You’ll be here all night.”

You had a glass of lemonade by your head, spiked with a bit of rum. It was already warm, because it was summer and things were supposed to be warm in the summer.

The curtains danced in front of the window, yellow like sunshine and all those goddamn lemons in the freezer. The only respite from an otherwise colorless world.

“This city is so ugly.”

Bucky looked up at the sound of your voice. He walked over, crouching by your arm.

“Think so?”

“Yeah. Can’t find a single pretty thing in the city.”

“I can.”

“Can you?”

“Sure. She’s looking at me right now.”

“That was sappy.”

“Yes it was.”

Bucky lay down, rolling onto his side next to you, taking a sip from your glass.

“But I ain’t mean it any less.”

You hummed, closing your eyes.

“Well, for what it’s worth then, I think you’re handsome.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You could hear his proud smile.

“Don’t make me take it back.”

“No, I’m just surprised to hear it is all.”

“Surprised, huh? I’m certain I ain’t the first one to call you handsome.”

“You’re the only one I wanna hear it from.”

Something fluttered in your chest.

“What d’you say then? You and I, think we can take on a city as ugly as ours?”

He smiled.

“With you, doll?”

“Yeah.”

“With you, of course.”

“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Bucky propped his head up on his elbow. It was quiet again, with only your occasional sighs and his quiet breaths.

“What’re you looking at?” you breathed, opening your eyes.

“You.”

Bucky flicked a drop of lemonade from the tip of your nose.

You turned, now face to face.

And oh, Bucky’s blues. Those had been your color even before the curtains.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted.

He smiled a little sadly.

“Gonna miss you too, Y/N.”

You pushed your lips together, taking a deep breath.

“You were right, you know.”

“‘Bout what?”

“That day when you brought home all those lemons. You said that I stay for you.”

Bucky’s lips quirked, gaze fond like it always was.

“All those times I stayed for dinner and pretended to know what I was doing putting up those curtains. I stayed for you.”

You wiped your nose quickly, sniffling.

“And I’m gonna keep staying.”

“Yeah? What if the bridge collapses tomorrow?”

“I’ll swim.”

“Even in the winter?”

“I’ll get myself a pair of ice skates.”

“You don’t know how to skate, doll.”

“That’s right. So you better come back safe and teach me.”

Bucky leaned in, nose brushing your cheek. He rolled over and carefully straddled you, holding his weight.

“I’ll be there, honey.”

“Now what did we say about that?”

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched in thought.

“Don’t say it if I don’t mean it?”

You hummed, pulling him closer, arms around his neck. Bucky’s lips were a millimeter from yours, breath fanning over your chin.

“Mm, I think it was something about eternity.”

Bucky was soft, tangy and sweet. His scruff scraped your cheek and your fingers curled into the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

He slid his hands under your back and turned so you were on top, head on his chest. You lay like that for a while, listening to his heartbeat, arms strong around you.

Yellow fluttered in the breeze, tacked unevenly onto the wall, catching your eye.

Bucky glanced to the side, chuckling.

“Don’t let Anderson take our curtains away.”

“Of course not. I spent a weekend on those. She’ll have to fight me for ‘em.”

“Good God. Now I gotta worry about you brawling with old ladies and Steve getting into alley fights while I’m gone?”

“Nah. Steve’ll help me.”

“Oh, great.”

You reached up, brushing his jaw with your knuckles.

“Call me honey again.”

“Honey, honey, honey.”

You reached up to get just one last kiss, except it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. It couldn’t be.

“They’re not gonna take you away from me.”

Bucky shook his head, kissing you much slower this time, trying to memorize you before time ran out.

“Never. ‘M gonna think of you and I’ll be back ‘fore we know it.”

You nodded, wishing hard, hoping somebody was listening.

“Then, when I come back,” he whispered, promise riding on the summer air.

“We’re gonna make the best damn lemonade you’ve ever had.”

And maybe this city could take away your sunsets, your tea and jams, even your summer.

But if there was anything that was yours and yours only, it was the lemon pulp on Bucky’s lips and the undissolved sugar on your own, as bitter and pretty as home.

#bucky barnes x reader #1940s bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #kas9kwc #repost for those of you who asked <3

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jungshookz · 3 years

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hwayoung’s two now and y/n’s allowed to be emotional about it, okay?

➺ genre; ceo!yoongiverse!! a little bit of yoongi and y/n being mushy for each other!! fluff!! cutest drabble for the cutest girl!! jungkook and jimin bickering like an old married couple as per usual!!

➺ wordcount; 3.2k

➺ p.s. this drabble is approximately five months overdue and it’s basically been collecting dust in my drafts so i figured i’d finally release it into the wild since it’s mother’s day today and i thought it’d be nice to read something sweet on this special day!!!! happy mother’s day!!! give ur mom a big ol hug and a kiss on the cheek :-) and if u don’t celebrate mother’s day that’s okay you can still read this for a small boost of serotonin wahoo :D

»»————-　🍰　————-««

“i’d just like to inform you that if it wasn’t for the fact that today is hwayoung’s birthday, the idea of having cake as part of breakfast would definitely be off the table.” yoongi pauses before turning his head to look at you pointedly, “in fact, it wouldn’t even had made it to the table in the first place.”

“trust me, you’ve made that clear multiple times-” you roll your eyes playfully before offering yoongi a half-hearted shrug, “it’s not a big deal! we’ll just give her a tiny little chunk that’ll fit in her tiny little hand and then we’ll save the rest for later!”

“yeah, right-” yoongi snorts, making his way over to you to hand you a balloon, “you’re probably going to sneak an entire slice of cake into her mouth while i’m not watching-” he teases, digging his fingers into your sides playfully before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest, “you think you’re so sneaky-”

“hey-!” you giggle, squirming in his grip when you feel him starting to nip at the side of your neck, “this is not a very productive use of our time, boss-”

“hey, you two! are you just going to stand there making out all day or are you actually going to help me with the decorations?”

both you and yoongi peer over the edge to see jimin standing by the bottom of the spiral staircase looking very unimpressed and you flash him a sheepish smile

“we’re not making out-”

“yeah, well you might as well be-”

“we’re helping! we’re almost done tying balloons to the banisters-” you argue, holding the balloon in your hand up before flopping it around enthusiastically, “we-” you jolt when you accidentally let go of it, watching with wide eyes as it rockets around the ceiling before poot-poot-pooting pathetically and landing on the ground by jimin’s feet

whoops

“…yes, that’s very helpful, thank you.” jimin mutters to himself, shaking his head as he bends down to pick up the sad, spitty balloon up off the ground with a grimace, “when you’re done, come down and help me because this balloon arch isn’t going to make itself! chop-chop, people-” he claps his hands together as he wanders back to the living room to the half-constructed balloon arch

“you know, you’d think that hwayoung was his daughter-” yoongi murmurs lowly, twisting his neck to give your cheek a quick kiss before pulling away

“mm, tell me about i-”

“she’s mine when the two of you drop dead!”

you jump in surprise at the sound of jimin’s voice snapping at you from below and you and yoongi exchange glances before bursting into quiet giggles

“i feel like i should be more concerned that jimin seems to be very eagerly waiting for our deaths.” you joke, reaching for the bag of balloons and pulling out a handful of them

as much as you love your daughter you weren’t planning on having a super big birthday party for her just because..,., well, she’s probably not going to remember most of it considering she’s two and also it’s just the five of you celebrating at home, so you thought that a cake and a bunch of presents would be good enough of a celebration

of course, when you told jimin about these plans he looked like he was ready to bury you alive which is why he insisted that he’d take care of the food and the drinks and basically the entirety of hwayoung’s birthday party and told you that all you and yoongi had to do was sit back, relax, blow up a couple of balloons and also choose a cute birthday outfit for hwayoung

(jimin actually ended up taking over that part as well. he bought her a new birthday dress and a brand new pair of shoes to go with it.)

“everyone can relax! the star of the show has now arrived!”

the sound of the front door slamming shut suddenly shatters the silence and you smile lightly when you see jungkook sauntering in as if he owns the place

“good morning, kook.” you hum, jungkook looking up at you before offering you a lopsided grin, “actually, the star of the show is still fast asleep in her room.”

“oh, right-” jungkook snorts, dismissing you with a flick of his wrist, “i mean, yeah, of course this is hwayoung’s special day- but check it out! i picked up her birthday cake and brought it back here and i didn’t accidentally ruin it somehow!” he raises the big blue box in his hand with a beam, “i’m incredible!”

“that thing looks huge, jungkook!” you frown lightly, “i told you not to go crazy-”

“please tell me you didn’t max out my credit card buying a giant cake for hwayoung.” yoongi chimes in, leaning over and folding his arms atop the banister, “i hope you realise it’s just going to be the three of you having to eat it all-”

“it’s hwayoung’s birthday, i had to splurge! you know that ‘everything is cake’ trend? i ordered a custom cake and asked them to make it look like a giant cookie! but i also ordered a dozen chocolate chip cookies just in case she’s not into the cake.” jungkook smiles proudly before pausing, “…of course, knowing hwayoung, she’s going to love the cookies and the cake, so i’m not too worried. i’m going to see if i can shove these into the fridge-”

“what’s wrong?” yoongi nudges your side to get you to look at him, “you look like you’re thinking, which is never really a good thing-”

“hwayoung’s two now.” you blink twice before turning to look at yoongi, “she’s two.”

“yes. you’re very good at keeping track of our daughter’s age.” yoongi coos, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully, “good job, baby.”

“two years old!” you gasp, turning around to lean back against the railing before shaking your head, “my god, she’s aged.”

“oh my god, you’re right. the ripe old age of two.” yoongi teases before gasping dramatically and reaching over to grip onto your forearm, “soon, we’ll be thinking about what elementary school to send her off to... and then the next thing you know, we’ll be helping her look for her own apartment when she’s off at university... and then you’ll be going wedding dress shopping with h-”

“stOP stop stop stop-” you wave your hands before covering them over your ears, yoongi laughing lightly when you frown at him, “i don’t want her to turn two! because that means she’s going to turn three… and then she’s going to turn four… and then five, six, seven, eight-” you pause and your eyes suddenly widen in horror, “she’s going to be a sixteen year old one day- what if she turns into a bratty sixteen year old?? because i was a really bratty sixteen year old and i don’t want her to turn out like me! do you know how hard it’s going to be if she turns into me? i used to sneak home at four in the morning-”

“let’s keep in mind that hwayoung is also my daughter and i was not a bratty sixteen year old,” yoongi interrupts calmly before giving your arm a reassuring squeeze, “she’s gonna be fine! and you turned out great, so give yourself a little bit of credit-”

“i just want her to stay two forever.” you pout, crossing your arms stubbornly as you look down the hallway towards her room, “is that too much to ask for??”

“when the terrible twos hit, i guarantee you’re probably going to feel a little different.” yoongi teases, pushing himself up off the banister before gesturing for you to go and join jimin and jungkook downstairs, “why don’t you help jimin out with the balloon arch while i go and wake our little miss two year old up?”

»»————-　🍰　————-««

yoongi presses his lips together tightly as he twists the doorknob, being careful not to make too loud of a sound to accidentally shock hwayoung awake

the last thing he wants is for to burst into tears at the start of her special day

he peers into the bedroom, smiling fondly when he sees a little lump under the covers shuffling a little

a chubby sock-clad foot pokes out for a second before it disappears again

“이게 누굴까요? [hm… who’s that]?” yoongi asks quietly, the lump suddenly freezing in place, “드디어 일어나셨네요… [i think someone’s finally awake…]”

he tilts his head when a messy head of hair pops out from under the covers, the corners of hwayoung’s mouth immediately lifting in a bright smile when she spots him, “우리 공주 좋은 아침입니다! [oh! good morning, miss min!]”

he lets himself into the room and reaches over to click the white noise machine off before starting to quietly pad his way over to her, his heart melting in his chest when her mouth opens up in a quiet little yawn

“잘 주무떠뜹니까… [gub moming…]” hwayoung murmurs, eyelids fluttering slightly as yoongi reaches down to push some of her hair out of her face

“잘 잤어? [hi, baby… did you sleep well?]” yoongi asks, leaning down to scoop her up, “우리 화영이 생일 축하해… 밑에서 다 기다리고 있어... [happy birthday, my darling… we’re all waiting for you downstairs...]” he whispers, rubbing circles into her warm back when she immediately clings to him, “머리에 물 좀 묻히고 내려갈까? 머리가 아주 산발이네. [why don’t we freshen up a little, hm? the birthday girl can’t take pictures with a bird’s nest on her head.]”

“딴바. [birb’s ness.]”

»»————-　🍰　————-««

“i hope she likes the present i got for her.” jungkook mutters, his foot tapping anxiously against the ground as he looks up towards the top of the stairs in anticipation of hwayoung’s arrival, “i mean, if she doesn’t like it, there’s a receipt in the box so i can return it and get something else for her… but i really hope she likes it.”

“jungkook, she’s two. i gave her a wooden spoon to play with the other day and she was ecstatic.” you snort, peeling an eye open to look at him from where you’re lying on the couch before shutting it again, “i’m sure she’ll love whatever you got for her.”

“what’s the matter with you?” jimin hums, glancing at you for a second before focusing his attention back on sticking the bright pink ‘2’ candle onto the cake, “you look a little out of it today.”

“gee, thanks.” you snort, blindly grabbing one of the throw pillows before hugging it to your chest, “no, i’m fine, i just- i was feeling a little mopey this morning about hwa turning two and now i’m just thinking about how time has just flown by…”

“mm. it seems like it was only yesterday that i was holding your hair back while you violently puked your guts out into the toilet bowl.” jimin jokes, holding a hand to his chest before spinning around to face you and jungkook, “ah… fond memories that i’ll look back on for the rest of my life.”

“you know, i should’ve told yoongi i was pregnant in another way.” you suddenly change the subject, propping yourself up onto your elbows with a frown, “all i did was give him a tiny cookie. how lame is that?!”

“to be fair, you didn’t know how he was going to react, so maybe it was a good thing you went for something so simple!” jimin shrugs, making his way over to you before sticking his hand out for you to take, “c’mon, miss mopey. hwayoung probably doesn’t want to see you throwing yourself a pity party on her special day when she comes down here.”

»»————-　🍰　————-««

“-화영이가 엄마한테가서 이쁜짓 해주는 거 어떨까? [-now, mama is feeling very emotional today, so i think it’d be a really good idea to act extra cute, okay?]” yoongi whispers to hwayoung, planting a quick kiss on her cheek while slowly making his way down the stairs, “of course, that probably isn’t going to be a problem for you, seeing that you’re adorable 24/7-”

“i adowbo.” hwayoung murmurs, leaning down and squishing her cheek against yoongi’s shoulder, “졸려. [i seepy.]”

“졸리다고? [sleepy?]” yoongi pauses on the steps, reaching up to adjust one of her pigtails with a smile, “이거 큰일났네, 졸리면 어떡해! [you can’t be sleepy for your morning conference. look alive!]”

“is that the sleepy little birthday girl?”

yoongi looks down to see you waiting eagerly at the bottom of the stairs, your hands clasped together and your eyes glued on hwayoung, “good morning!”

“mama!” hwayoung immediately twists around in yoongi’s arms at the sound of your voice, reaching out for you with a teethy grin as soon as yoongi gets close enough to you

“oh, happy birthday, my sweet little baby!“ you coo as you take her into your arms, squishing multiple kisses to her chubby cheek as you hold her close, “happy happy birthday, my beautiful girl…”

“ahppa bouday!” hwayoung giggles, little hands patting against your face

she leans in and smushes her nose against yours before giving you a drooly kiss on the cheek and you can’t help but laugh at how affectionate she’s being with you

see??

you want to keep her like this forever and it sucks to think about the fact that one day you’re going to set her down on the ground after carrying her and you’ll never pick her up again because she won’t need you to pick her up again

:-(

“oh…” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your nose prickle and your eyes starting to get a little tingly, “i love you so much…”

you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before hwayoung’s suddenly being plucked from your arms, both jimin and jungkook immediately starting to fawn over her as per usual

“우리 화영이, 공주님이 따로 없네! [look at how beautiful you are in your dress!]” jimin exclaims animatedly, hwayoung clapping her hands together in response

her dress is sage green and gingham and it even came with matching ribbons for her hair and you have to admit that jimin made a pretty good choice with this birthday outfit

you probably would’ve stuck her in a pair of overalls or something

“see, what’d i say?” jimin smiles proudly, smoothing down the back of hwayoung’s dress before looking over at jungkook, “i told you the sage green was cuter- 아니 빨간 걸 왜 입혀 뭐 애를 도마로 만들 생각이니- [the red one that you wanted to go with would’ve made her look like a picnic blanket-]”

“아니 도마라니! [red gingham is classy!]” jungkook argues, trailing behind jimin while making faces at hwayoung to get her to laugh, “입혀보지도 않고- [you didn’t even give it a chance-]”

“난 그딴 거 염두에 두지 않는다 정국아- [i don’t need to give tacky garbage a chance, jungkook-]”

“hey, are you okay?” yoongi gives you a quick hug and kiss on the side of your head when he suddenly notices a tear running down your cheek, “she’s just turning two, y/n... she’s not moving out of the country-”

“i know, i know-“ you sniffle, reaching up to quickly wipe at your tears before chuckling, “i guess i’m just feeling extra emotional today-”

“c’mon, parents!” jimin calls out for you two while setting hwayoung down in her high chair, “the candle is melting and this cake is too expensive to get any wax dripped on it-”

“gookee!” hwayoung points to the cake and claps her hands as she bounces up and down on her seat, “gookee, mama!”

“yeah! cookie!” you mimic enthusiastically, smiling widely when she suddenly lets out a high-pitched squeal of excitement, her nose scrunching particularly cutely, “i’m glad to see that you inherited my love for cookies and not appa’s love for muesli.”

yoongi immediately scoffs and reaches down to give your bum a quick swat

“i know she’s saying cookie, but i’m just going to go ahead and say that she’s actually saying the name of her favourite uncle-” jungkook sighs, reaching down to pinch hwayoung’s cheek, “화영이는 꾹이 삼촌 제일 좋아하- [uncle gookee is your forever favourite-]”

“어 응 뉘에- [yeah, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night-]” jimin snorts, shoving the camera into his hands as the four of you stand in front of hwayoung, “okay, don’t touch the cake yet! let’s get some pretty pictures of the birthday girl first!”

“hwa, look into the camera!” jungkook coos, snapping his fingers to get her to look up at him, “그래 삼촌 한 번만 봐 봐- [look at uncle goo- yeah, there we go-]”

you watch hwayoung fondly as she continues to ham it up for the camera, her little legs kicking in anticipation under the tray

“good girl, you’re being so patient.” you hum before reaching over to pluck a cookie from the open box, “ooh, i’ve been dying to sink my teeth into one of these-”

“i had one earlier, they’re pretty good!” jimin nods, brushing past jungkook to get to you, “the bakery i ordered them from has, like five out of five stars one google review- hey, what’s that face for?”

“eugh- do the cookies taste a little funky to you?” you face screws up as you swallow the bite before holding the cookie up to take a closer look at it, “it’s just chocolate chip, right?”

“yeah- hold on, lemme try-” jimin frowns, reaching over to steal your cookie before taking a bite of it and chewing thoughtfully

“maybe you just got a weird one?” yoongi suggests, peering into the box with a frown, “all cookies taste funky to me, so my opinion probably isn’t valid here-”

“it’s fine, i’ll try another one later-” you dust your fingers off before perking up and clapping your hands together, “hey, should yoongi and i hop in for some pictures before hwa completely destroys the entire cake?”

“yeah, it… might be a little too late for that.” jungkook clears his throat and the three of you look over to see hwayoung’s tubby arms shoved elbow deep into the cake, “i gave her the green light to go ahead and eat. she just looked so sad and hungry, i’m sorry!”

hwayoung cackles in glee as she continues slapping her hand against the cake, her grubby little hands now sticky and her new dress stained with globs of frosting chocolate

“oh my god.” you stifle a laugh and reach up to cover your mouth so that you don’t burst out laughing at the fact that both jimin and yoongi look absolutely appalled

“i spent, like, ten minutes doing her hair-” yoongi whines, gently nudging you aside so he can hurry over to hwayoung and try to salvage the neat little pigtails he spent forever working on, “and now there’s frosting everywhere!”

“that dress was expensive, jungkook!” jimin snaps, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was about to burst into tears, “and i didn’t even get any nice pictures with her before she- come on, man-”

“i’m sorry!”

“ahppy bodday!” hwayoung shrieks in delight and flings her arms up, chunks of cake and specks of frosting flicking out from her hands, “i adowbo!”

👔click here for more ceo!yoongi content (+ hwayoung!)

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💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles like this one!)

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getlostsquidward · 3 years

Text

The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)

Lou Miller x fem!reader

A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!

Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?

Part one

“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”

“Nice place.”

“Try heating it.”

“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”

Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.

She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.

The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?

Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.

“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.

Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.

“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.

Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”

“Tell me about her.”

The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.

The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.

She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.

In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.

Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.

“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”

The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.

“I do. No need to remind me.”

“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”

“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.

You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.

Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?

The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.

“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.

“I love that!” Lou quipped.

“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”

Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.

“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.

“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.

“The what?”

“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.

“If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.

She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.

After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”

The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.

“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”

Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.

Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.

What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.

The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.

“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”

“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”

“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.

Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.

“We will not be the prime suspect.”

“Then who will be the prime suspect?”

Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.

“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.

“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”

Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”

While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”

You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.

“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”

“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.

Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.

The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.

That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.

“Lou?”

“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.

“You have to thank Debs for that.”

Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”

“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”

Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.

“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.

“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.

You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.

There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.

“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.

“I know, Lou. I love you too.”

#cate blanchett #cate blanchett x reader #lou miller x reader #lou miller #ocean's 8 #ocean's 8 fanfiction #debbie ocean #tammy #daphne kluger

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ac3id · 4 years

Text

“watch and learn,” | 18+

pairings: incel sakusa x fem!reader x ushijima

summary: sakusa gets tired of watching you take advantage of his friend, so he takes matters into his own hands to teach you a lesson. fortunately for him, ushijima feels the same

warnings: noncon, humiliation, voyeurism, anal, hate fucking.

a/n: this was high-key inspired by @vermiliren ‘s sakusa and ushijima concepts,,, love you <3

wordcount.: 4k+

tagging: @minitaureland, @oikawoahh, @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa, @sunshine-fangs

dm to be added/ removed!

Sakusa has a problem.

Well, Sakusa has many problems, but this one in particular manages to drive him crazy.

It makes his blood boil and his cock hard, it’s an irritating itch he just can’t scratch which makes him absolutely mad.

One could say such a problem must be nerve-wracking; something which keeps you up all night wondering how you can overcome it. Maybe it’s family, maybe it’s financial. It must be a big deal, right? But luckily for Sakusa, it’s just you.

His problem is you, his teammate’s girlfriend.

It’s weird. Technically, there should be no reason for him to think of his teammate’s girlfriend as anything but just as another girl but his heart tells him another story.

Whenever he thinks of you, he either imagines punching your beautiful face until it’s stained with wine red blood or shoving his cock down all of your holes which he hears you cry in agony. He imagines filling you up with his cum, clearing you of all your filth. There’s really no in-between, but sometimes he imagines doing it both...in the same order.

But hey! Sakusa is a good guy, he would never do such a thing! He respects women and most certainly he respects you. He obviously doesn’t think you’re a whore or anything for talking to a guy who isn’t your boyfriend, Ushijima. But gosh, even you notch it up a lot.

He rarely ever sees you, only when you arrive at bars uninvited with Ushijima or when you come down to the volleyball tournaments for Ushijima or when you wait for Ushijima while he practices in the stadium or….. When you go down to the grocery store where he just happens to be….multiple times.

Maybe you’re getting food for Ushijima, but he’s sure his teammate’s not going to eat half the junk you buy. Ushijima has a body to maintain, his health is very important to him. All of that fast food is not going to work him any favors.

Don’t you cook for him? You know, like a woman should?

You see, Sakusa is a little old fashioned. He likes tradition and sincerely pesters everyone to follow it. So it’s not a big surprise when he expects the same from you or any female in general. In the past, he’s been called an incel; a man who hates women was it? But that’s definitely not him. He loves them. Especially when they are naked on his computer screen, getting pinned down by a man two sizes bigger than themselves.

Sometimes he imagines you and Ushijma in their place and way more often, he imagines him with you over there instead.

So, see? He doesn’t women. He loves them! But… some women get on his nerves.

Some women like you.

He would never admit this, but Sakusa follows you around only because he does not trust you for Ushijima. Even when Ushi’s around, you flirt with other men while he’s sitting right next to you with his arms wrapped around your shoulder. It gets worse when he is away.

He can always hear you make suggestive comments to the cute cashier in the store while he lurks away. He’s disgusted. He can’t understand why Ushijima still chooses to stay with you.

He’s dating a whore, you don’t care about him- you’re just having your fun. You’ll leave him once it gets over, you don’t like him. But you still have him entranced, so madly in love with you. Sukasa think-no, he knows it’s only because you’re good in bed. There’s no other reason for him to keep you around for so long, being a slut you probably know how to make a man feel good.

Sakusa understands that but it still bothers him. Like a good friend he is, he decides to tell Ushijima about you. It starts in the locker room after practice. Both of them stand together changing out of their sports gear, it was a tiring day, and the two men were tired. He’s surprised when Ushijima starts the conversation, midday through changing his shirt, he starts.

“So, what do you think of her?” Sakusa knows who he is talking about, you had come into the stadium that day to watch Ushijima practice, and he had spent the better half of his time glaring daggers and staring at you. Sakusa says your name cluelessly, “Yes, her.” Ushijima replies.

Sakusa clicks his tongue, “I think-” “Cut the bullshit, you’re fucking her aren’t you?”

Ushijima turns to him, his eyes dark and fatal. A frown rests on his face with his fists balled as if to throw a punch. Sakusa panics, not understanding why such an accusation could fall over his head.

“No- I- that’s not true!” he clarifies but Ushijima looks unmoved, “Then why the fuck do you keep looking at her?” the murderous glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear as he just gets angrier. A newfound fear forms within Sakusa, he had always respected Ushijima as a player and a man, he sure as hell didn’t want to start a fight with the green-haired man. He spills everything he knows, everything he’s seen.

The night when he spotted you kissing Atsumu, the relentless flirting, everything. It’s brutal, it breaks Ushijima’s heart but a necessary evil. He watches Ushijima’s spirit break when his eyes turn blank. He stares motionlessly on the floor, thinking. Sakusa feels the rage return, he’s so mad at you- how could you do this to anyone? All of you are the same, all women are the same but….but you are the worst!

Sakusa waits for a moment before speaking, “You can’t let her get away with this,” he starts. Ushijima looks up at him, listening diligently to his plan. “You should take revenge, don’t let her get away with this.” Revenge?

Ushijima’s eyes lit up at the word, many thoughts came into his mind when Sakusa said it. Revenge? Should he also kiss any of your friends behind your back? Should he be cold towards you? The idea of making you realize just how much you hurt him by lettering you experience the pain excited him. He loved you, he did but sometimes drastic measures have to be taken. “What should I do?” he asked impatiently, he wanted to find a way to fix his deteriorating relationship.

Sakusa pauses, his mind racing back to the many porn clips he has fapped to before and settling on which the big boyfriend destroys his little girlfriend’s pussy for cheating on him. “I’ll send a video.”

Later that night Ushijima receives a link from Sakusa, titled ‘boyfriend punishes girlfriend for cheating.’

“Wakatoshi?” you bask in confusion at the man standing next to your boyfriend at the front door. It was late at night and you were almost going to bed. Ushijima had texted you telling he’d be home late that night but you had managed to catch him just in time. You were not expecting his teammate to come along with him, though.

It was awkward, dressed only in some sleep shorts and Ushijima welcoming Sakusa in the house was weird. He never seemed to take his eyes off of you, you were genuinely creeped out. You let the two men talk in the living room while you headed to the kitchen to prepare them a little snack. They said they had already eaten but umm...hospitality? It was fine to both of them, they liked you better in the kitchen anyway.

“Have you tried a threesome before?” Sakusa asked, taking a seat. It was finally the day Ushijima was going to man up and teach you a lesson which you’d never forget. “No, I don’t like to share,” he replied. Sakusa nodded, “understandable.” they stood quiet for a second only for your humming to fill the room. Even though you were in the kitchen, your sweet melody still ringed till the other room. Ushijima threw Sakusa a knowing glance before he made his way to the kitchen to see you. Heading over next to you, he sized down your form.

Ushijima took a step forward, trapping you between the kitchen counter and his huge body. You bring your hands to his chest, keeping him at a distance from you and just feeling his warmth under your palms. You did this often, it wasn’t anything sexual. You just enjoyed feeling him under your fingertips.

“So, what’s his deal?” you ask, your voice low not to alert Sakusa sitting in the living room. It was late, very late. There was no reason for Ushijima to bring a friend over now, but if Sakusa needed a place to spend the night- that was a different story.

“He will go in sometime,” Ushijima answered back, his huge, warm palms caressing your cheeks. You lean into the touch as he looks down at you affectionately with pure innocent eyes until he can’t. The spell you have him under breaks and he remembers why Sakusa is here.

His thumb trails down to your lips, pushing against the soft and pillow-like features. You look at him in confusion, Surprised by his bold actions. Ushijima was a private person, seeing him act so suggestively while another man sat right in the next room shocked you...but you liked it.

You obediently open your mouth letting his digits enter your hot carven. A tingle of a dull, throbbing pull settles on your tongue as you frown. Looking up at Ushijima through your lashes, you watch him glare at you while he pinches your tongue between his two fingers.

You whine out, there was no lie that you like it rough but the unsettling expression on Ushijima's face frightened you.

“Do you remember the last time we went out for drinks with the team?” your eyes widened and your blood ran cold, you knew exactly what he was getting at. “Nod your fucking head, bitch.” his pinch grew tighter making you squeal harder and you hastily nodded. You heard footsteps ring as Sakusa appeared into the room. Turning your eyes to his immediately, asking him for assistance. You hope to see a reaction out of Sakusa, disgust at most- he’d tell you both to cut it out but Sakusa stood still with an unreadable expression. Was he not going to say anything?

Ushijima caught your attention back by pinching your tongue hard, once again. drool pooled in your mouth, slowly leaking past your lips. It was disgusting.

“That night, did you kiss Atsumu?”

He knew. This is why he was doing this, you could understand that, but why was Sakusa just watching?

Your gaze lowered to the floor and Ushijima let his fingers leave you, letting you talk. You kept your head down as you spoke. it was too heartbreaking, you knew you should have told Ushijima but for some reason you never did. you were sacred Ushijima would leave you.

“That night, Atsumu came onto me…. when you left me with him that day, he kissed me- I didn’t want him to..he just…” shaky breaths leave your lips as you recall the dreadful incident. Atsumu was drunk that night, he wasn’t thinking straight. He apologized to you sincerely the next day but the damage was done. you could still feel his uninvited touches roaming all over your body when he tried to grope you.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Ushijima turned to sakusa, the glare which was burning you now directed at him. Ushijima was furious at sakusa for accusing you but sakusa knew what he saw. he frowned at you, he remembers seeing you kissing the blonde back- you’re just lying now, trying to get out of this mess.

“She’s lying, I knew what I saw. don’t trust her,”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?”

You scream at him with angry, glassy eyes immediately turning to Ushijima and begging him to not believe the dark-haired man. Sakusa watches you with calculating eyes, revising his next move. He knows he’s not going to let you go so easily, there’s only one reason he’s here tonight. And that’s to put a whore in her place, he’s not leaving until he gets a taste of you.

He starts again, “don’t listen to her, Ushijima. listen to me, I have no reason to lie to you I’m your friend.” He chooses his words carefully to manipulate Ushijima into siding with him.

Ushijima stares at you for a second before grabbing your wrist harshly, “it’ll be okay,” he whispers your name, pulling you along with him. you scream at him, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp as he thrusts your forward.

“Toshi’ stop. seriously, no. stop,” you cry and beg but he shows no mercy. He pulls you into your shared bedroom, throwing you on your shared bed. Sakusa quietly follows, locking the door behind him as he enters. “What should I do now?” Ushijima turns to sakusa who stands next to the door, his eyes run towards you and he watches you cowering on the bed. You curl yourself up, pushing your knees to your chest and burying your head in between. You sit at the edge of the bed, far away from the two men quiring in fear and dread. Sakusa had thought you’d be putting up more of a fight but seems like you knew your place. Besides there was no way you’d manage to win against the two giants, they’d crush you even before you can try.

“Do you not remember the video?” Sakusa asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening a porn site. He clicks on the video he had forwarded to Ushijima, the video starts normally; a man talking to his supposed girlfriend but he skips the clip forward to the part he wants to see.

“You seriously want me to do that to her?” Ushijima asks, frowning at the screen. The porn actress is bent over the actor’s lap as he showers her bottom with powerful slaps. Blistering her ass and making her cry.

Sakusa nods. Ushijima looks bad at your quivering form before whispering, “like a child?”

Truth to be told, Sakusa knew Ushijima was a softie and that he cared about your feelings. That was the difference between him and the ace. He loved you and he loved you a little too much, you were the first thing swimming in his mind and it may be defined by some as romantic, Sakusa thought differently.

The thought disgusted him, caring so much about a mere woman; the man has to be crazy. Don’t get it wrong, Sakusa loves women so much he’s cornering you like this but he also firmly believes that women have duties. And by what he can see between you and Ushijima, you’re not fulfilling them at all and Ushijima is too much of a pussy to make you fix your mistakes.

He’s just helping his bro out. xx

Sakusa doesn’t answer him, instead, he looks at him with a fixed glare. Ushijima clicks his tongue, he didn’t want to hit his girlfriend like a child but he didn’t want to disrespect his friend either. He thinks for a moment before turning to you, making up his mind he chooses to spank you. A small smile of satisfaction crosses on Sakusa’s face as he watched Ushijima approach you.

His knee dips down on the bed as he moves forward to get you, “Toshi’ please, I will never, never talk to any guy ever again. You don’t need to do this.” you beg. Your eyes are glassy and your face is flushed from crying. You look up at your boyfriend with pleading eyes, hoping he’d listen to you. Ushijima stops in his tracks, hesitating to get you. He thinks about, maybe he should let you-

“Ushijima.”

Sakusa’s stern voice pulls him back to reality, he clicks his tongue and grabs you by your arm pulling you with him to the opposite edge of the bed. You keep crying and begging but Ushijima doesn’t bat an eye as he pulls you over his lap. He presses his hand against your back to keep you from running away while the other paws at your sleeping shorts.

“Stop screaming,” Sakusa commands, but you never listen to him. “Is this okay?” Ushijima flashes Sakusa a perfect view of your naked ass, your panties, and discarded on the floor. Sakusa walks over, standing in front of Ushijima, he leans in to grab a handful of your ass but Ushijima pushes his hand away. “No touching,” he commands.

As if they put salt on the wound, Ushijima moves along to fondle your ass. Playing with the soft flesh, squeezing them, spreading them all to his liking. A small smile grazes his face and for the first time, he realizes how much smaller you are compared to him. It makes him feel mighty, he loves the power he holds over you right now. The thoughts about what he can do to you flow straight to his cock. You feel his ever-growing bulge poke at your stomach under his pants.

Sakusa picks up your panties from the floor and right over in front of you, he grabs your face with his hands, squishing cheeks before shoving the panties into your mouth shutting you up once and for all. Ushijima throws him a glare but decides to ignore it eventually. His hands roam over your back one last time before he brings it up into the air and slams it down onto your round ass swiftly.

You cry out in pain, your bare ass stinging and burning. You hope for your boyfriend to calm down but he doesn’t give you a break, repeatedly hitting your ass with no sign of mercy. You cry and wither around, mumbling words that get muffled behind the gag making it impossible for any of them to understand.

Sakusa patiently watches the scene in front of him, you’re crying in pain while Ushijima spanks you. It’s kind of like the scenes he always fantasized about, the only difference being it’s him who’s raining down slaps on your naked ass instead of Ushijima.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“What?”

Sakusa wants to touch you, he wants to feel you under him. He’s not going to let himself watch you both doing it all night while he stands at the side with a raging boner and besides, Ushijima wasn’t hitting you hard enough. He pauses, looking up at Sakusa and you sigh in relief.

“You’re hitting her hard enough, at this rate she’ll never fear you,” he taunts and you frown. Your ass was already painfully red and swollen, you couldn't imagine how much longer you’d last.

In a flash, Ushijima pulled you on your feet, holding you by your arm. “You do it. I’m not enjoying this,” Sakusa’s eyes light up and he holds his urge to smile, he does not want to out himself.

“Watch and learn,”

He quietly walks over and changes roles, you squirm in his grip shaking your head no. You did not want to left under Sakusa’s touch at all, you had a feeling he hated you- which he did. He pulled you over his thighs where you could feeling his raging boner hit your stomach and just like Ushijima he started slapping your ass swiftly faster and much harder than your boyfriend.

They come without any warnings one after the other. You feel yourself tapping out now and then but a swift, harsh pull to your hair did just fine in waking you back into the nightmare. After Sakusa was done with abusing your ass, he started rubbing and playing with you. He squeezed your cheeks making you wince, spreading it open staring at your pulsing hole. His fingers even slipped down lower, dangerously close to your cunt.

“Sakusa,” Ushijima’s heavy voice cut through and Sakusa immediately lifted his hands off you. He pushed you down on the bed and removed the panties he had stuffed into your mouth. You coughed, your throat hoarse and your body exhausted.

Your bottom was numb, you could not feel a thing and your body was on fire. Ushijima called out to you, caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?” Ushijima felt bad. In all honesty, he did not want to hurt you but hearing the things Sakusa had said to him about you and what you did when he was not around made him feel like a small man, a man with no pride. It bothered him so he listens to Sakusa. He seemed to know what he was doing but now he sat filled with regrets.

Sakusa slapped Ushijima’s hand away from your face, “She’s fine. We aren’t done yet.”

Sakusa pulled you closer to him and ripped your shirt off your body, squeezing your tits and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. Ushijima dragged you back to him, at this point both the men were using you like a rag doll, literally. “I’m fucking her pussy.” he declared. You whined as he made you sit down on the bed but quickly switched positions so that you were straddling his thigh. You could see the dent in his jeans propped up, begging to be released. “What? Am I supposed to take her ass? That’s gross.” “You can use her mouth too,”

That was even grosser, Sakusa wanted to fuck your pussy. No doubt he’d love to ruin your ass and your mouth but today he wanted your pussy. He opened his mouth to speak but was immediately speechless when he saw Ushijima making out with you. He kisses you so passionately, your lips molding together, his tongue going down your throat. For a moment it felt like he wasn’t going to rape you here and now. Hell, maybe you are even enjoying this.

He scoffs, unbuckling his belt he walks behind you, settling for your ass. He feels like a third wheel, watching Ushijima kiss you so lovingly; licking your neck and biting down your tits making you moan.

He lifts you, spreading your cheeks, presenting your gaping hole to Sakusa. “You can go first,” he offers. Your start squirming around once again trying to free yourself from him. “Please, Wakatoshi no it will hurt. Please don’t-” “Shut up, bitch” Sakusa comes behind you, his hands closing around your petit neck. He squeezes around the soft flesh, effectively shutting you up. Out of desperation, you look up at Ushijima with watery eyes only to see him glaring at Sakusa. He slaps away Sakusa’s hand away from your neck, “Careful, she’s not yours’ bro.” his voice is filled with sarcasm. Sakusa scoffs moving back, “is she yours though? Sucking up to every guy ever who gives her an ounce of attention? Hate break it to you but your girl’s a whore, dude.” Sakusa returns. Sitting in the room with a hard-on, they glare at each other. Co-operating with Ushijima was harder than Sakusa thought and Ushijima much more possessive than he seemed.

The longer he stared with Sakusa with murderous intentions, the more fragile his grip on you became. Once you spotted it was weak enough, you broke out of it made for a run.

‘Fuck!” Ushijima screamed and chased after you with Sakusa following. You don’t get far, they catch you in the corridor. Ushijima pushes you against the wall, his hand coming up to grab your jaw making you look at him. ‘One fucking thing [y/n]. I told you it’ll be over fucking soon, didn’t I?” he slaps your face once. “It’s all your fault anyway. If it weren’t for you whoring out there like a fucking slut you wouldn’t be in this situation.” he slaps you twice, ouch. You plead guilty, promising him you’d never do it again but after repeated denials, you change your request. You choke back sobs as you try to calm your uneven breathing, “You can do anything you want to me but...just not him, please.” you turn to Sakusa shaking like a leaf. You didn’t want that man to be near you, nevertheless, touch you.

Ushijima thinks for a moment, turning to Sakusa. He thinks long and hard before answering, “It will be okay.” he says before pushing you against Sakusa. He didn’t want to give you up but you know what they say...Bros before Hos. Sakusa catches you roughly and pins you against his chest. He wraps his arm around your waist, letting the other pulls his pants down and pull his throbbing cock out of his briefs. It stands tall, not as thick as Ushijima but he’s big. With the red tip leaking with pre, he gives it a pump.

“Hold her legs,” he commands. Ushijima walks up to the two of you with his huge cock out and leaking, he wastes no time in grabbing one of your legs and pushing it up.

He lines his tip with your dry hole, “that’s enough foreplay, now,” he slowly truths inside, breaching past your cute cunt, splitting you into two. A burning pain flashes through you, slowly getting replaced by pleasure. Your tight cunt sucks up around his cock, salivating as he hits deeper and deeper. Sakusa gets tired of watching as he pushes his tips past your rim making you scream out. The intrusion is weird and unfamiliar, the deeper he goes the more evident it becomes. Sakusa decides to show you some mercy when he flicks down your little clit, pulsing with need. All of a sudden you start withering with pleasure, completely forgetting about the compromising position you are in.

“Fuck.” Ushijima mutters, your moans a melody to his ears. “Fuckin whore likes this,” Sakusa wanted you to shut up, your moans were turning him off. Sakusa felt he was close. Your walls hugging him snuggly, trying to milk him for all he’s worth but he doesn’t want to give up yet. There's an unspoken competition between the two men; whoever can last longer and his pride won’t let him loose. He holds himself together for a little longer, hoping for Ushijima to come before him.

“Don’t cum inside,” the green-haired man commands. He is close, his thrusts hit sloppy and uneven. He bits down on your neck as he shoots his thick, white load into your womb cumming with a loud grunt. Sakusa follows soon after, his length twitching he pulls it out of you. He jerks his cock over and cums all over your back.

He lets go of you, and you fall onto Ushijima, your boyfriend's strong arms wrapping around you to steady you up. “You should leave,” he suggests. He pulls his dick back into his pants and walks to the door, throwing a glance behind his shoulder; he sees Ushi stripping out his shirt and dressing you with him. He scoffs and turns around, feeling disgusted he can’t wait to go back to his own home and take a fucking shower. Even though he finally gets what he had wanted, he can’t help but feel unsatisfied. It would have been much better if it was just him and you minus the possessive freak, maybe….he can come again when Ushijima is not around….What’s the worst which could possibly happen?

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cafeacademic · 3 years

Text

Marshal Commander Hardass

Pairing: Commander Cody x Reader

Rating: Explicit (minors dni)

Warnings: light degradation (use of the word cockdumb mostly), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (wrap it before u tap it)

Word Count: ~3.4k

A little (and by little I mean several thousand words) something for one of my favorite Clone Commanders. This is one of several current WIPs, so it felt good to finally finish this one up! Hope you all enjoy lovelies <3

*Read on AO3* or under the cut!

You huffed as the door to the bar swung open and half a dozen clone troopers walked in. You were used to seeing a single soldier here and there, but a large, fully armored group meant trouble. Sighing, you excused yourself from the conversation you were having with a regular patron and returned to your place at the center of the bar.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you deadpanned, not at all in the mood to have to deal with the war today. Your planet had been lucky enough to stay relatively neutral, but the arrival of the soldiers reminded you how fragile that neutrality was.

“Good evening, miss,” the presumed leader of the group said. His armor was slightly different from other clone troopers that had stumbled across your bar in the past; his helmet was framed by an orange visor, and a rank insignia was affixed to his chest plate. “We’re looking for a man named Tost. Do you have any information about his whereabouts?”

“No,” you snapped, hoping to shut down the conversation. “If that’s all, I do have patrons to get back to,”

“Are you sure? Any information would be very helpful--” you waved a hand dismissively, silencing the trooper.

“I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to get caught up in this war. All it does is bring destruction to the planets it claims, and we refuse to offer ourselves up for annihilation on a silver platter,” you said impatiently. “So either order a drink or get out of my bar,”

The regular you were chatting with earlier snorted at your little speech, and a very drunk group in the back broke out into a loud cheer. You raised a single, challenging eyebrow at the soldiers.

“Come on, the General is probably waiting for us,” another clone spoke up from the back of the group. The leader nodded, not even turning to look at the clone who had spoken, seemingly too transfixed on you.

“You’re right, Boil,” he said calmly. “If you can think of anything that would be helpful to the Republic cause, please don’t hesitate to come to one of our outposts. Ask for Marshal Commander Cody, and I’ll see to it that your information is in good hands,”

You scoffed and folded your arms over your chest defensively. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,”

As the troopers filed out, you were sure that you could hear one of them swearing at you, but you chose to ignore it.

Later that night, when darkness had fallen completely and drunk patrons would fall off their stools every so often, two of the soldiers came in and tucked themselves away at a corner table. You grumbled a swear under your breath before walking over to the table and standing there, a single hand on your hip. The clones, now without their helmets, looked up sheepishly at you.

“I know you told us to get out earlier, but we’re not here for the Commander. We just want to unwind and have a drink,” one of them stuttered, obviously reciting a speech he had planned since before they walked in. You softened slightly as you watched the two men; it wasn’t their fault they were stuck in this war. Offering them a small smile, you took their orders and brought them their drinks, a little extra poured on top as a sign of goodwill.

“What’s up with them?” one of the men sitting at the bar asked you.

“Don’t know for sure,” you replied. “The whole squad came in earlier, asking for information. I get the feeling their commander is kind of a hardass,”

“Bet they just need to blow off some steam then,” the man said, and you nodded in agreement. With a sly look, the man glanced over at the troopers. “I’m sure you could offer them a much better way to relax,”

“You’re such a creep,” you deadpanned back, and the man laughed. “Besides, I don’t think clones are really my type,”

The door swung open with a clatter, and the orange-visored Commander stood in the doorway once more. You winced at the sudden loud noise.

“Is that Commander Hardass?” the man at the bar asked, and your grimace was enough to answer his question.

“Crys, Wooley, get back to camp,” the commander ordered, not even needing to raise his voice. The tipsy clones mumbled apologies and tossed a handful of credits on the table before shuffling out of the bar.

“What the hell!” you snapped at the clone commander. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“It was their turn for watch,” the clone said, sliding onto one of the unoccupied stools at the bar. The man you were speaking with earlier looked between the two of you, amused. “I’d like a drink. Corellian whiskey,”

“It’s after last call,” you lied.

“Since you won’t give me any information, the least you can do is give me a drink,” the commander said, taking off his helmet and setting it on the bar next to him. You stood there for a moment, simply taking the clone in. He somehow looked older than the other clones; perhaps it was just exhaustion from the war. His face was partially marred by a scar, but it only served to make him look more striking. It was the challenging look in his eyes, however, that made you pour him a glass of whiskey.

“So, you must be Commander Hardass,” the man at the bar said. You braced yourself for a fight, but instead, the clone just sipped on his drink, not even glancing at the other man.

“That’s Marshal Commander Hardass,” the clone replied. “But I much prefer to just be called Cody,”

“Well, well! We’ve got a big man in charge, here!” the man said, obviously inebriated. You glanced at the clock on the wall; it was probably time to start clearing everyone’s checks.

“I think you’ve had enough, hun,” you drawled to the man, taking his now empty glass away from him. “You should be getting on home,”

“Come on! I just wanted in on the fun!” the man protested, but Cody shot him a glare, and the man dropped credits on the bar and left without further complaint.

You went about your nightly duties of wiping down tables and clearing tabs, only having to break up one drunken argument before it turned into a brawl. By the time you were finished, the Commander was the only person left in the bar.

“Time to go,” you said, voice clipped. Cody looked up at you, still nursing his glass of whiskey. You couldn’t help but find yourself staring as an errant drop of liquid ran spilled over his lip and down his chin, trailing a path down his neck. You swallowed hard.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay and chat,” he countered, as if daring you to throw him out once more.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” your reply was weakened by the slight crack in your voice as you watched Cody grip his drink tightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly in his throat as he swallowed the whiskey, and your eyes traced over the movement.

“No more little speeches?” he taunted you. “I even went so far as to buy a drink,”

“I told you, I don’t know anything about the guy you’re looking for,” you said, a hint of resignation in your voice. “And if I did, I have no reason to trust you,”

“Your lack of trust certainly isn’t stopping you from eye-fucking me from across the bar,” Cody countered, and you blushed bright red. So he had noticed.

“I think you may be misconstruing my looks, Commander,” you tried to regain your blasé attitude, but it was no use.

“No, I think I’m quite right,” he said mildly as if he wasn’t laying all your dirty secrets on the table for him to peruse. “For someone who hates the war, you sure do seem to want a big, bad soldier to put you in your place,”

You gave up on trying to act aloof: “Hating the war and recognizing a good fuck aren’t mutually exclusive,”

A gloved hand fisted into your blouse and pulled you over the bar, and Cody crashed his lips into yours with so much force you felt your teeth clatter together. As you melted into the kiss, you weren’t quite sure if you had won your little battle of wills with the Commander, but at the moment, it didn’t seem to matter.

With surprising grace, Cody climbed over the bar and pushed you backward, framing your body by placing his arms on either side of you. He kissed you once more, less violent, but no less passionate. When you let out a soft whimper, Cody seized your moment of weakness and slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Mm, cyare, look at you,” he breathed out, and you felt your face get hot at his praise. One gloved hand ran over the curve of your hip and up the side of your ribcage, before dragging up the side of your neck and gripping your chin between his fingers. “Absolutely at my mercy,”

As much as you were sure you looked the part of a good submissive, eyes glassy and mouth slightly agape, you refused to give him the satisfaction of having won so easily.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Commander,” you taunted, dropping one hand to press against his codpiece. He hissed at the contact, even though it wasn’t direct, and you smirked.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Cody said darkly in your ear. “Don’t get in over your head,”

“I won’t,” you replied confidently, mustering up all your strength to keep your voice even, despite the way one of his large hands was kneading the flesh of your waist. “I’m quite sure that you’ll be a mess for me by the end of the night,”

It was like you had flipped a switch in Cody’s head, and any sort of softness he was holding onto flew out the window. The hand that was gently touching your waist soon captured your wrist in a bruising grip, and he pulled you flush against his body.

“Is there somewhere more private that we can do this?” he asked, and you nodded frantically.

“I have an apartment above the bar,” you managed to stammer out.

“Good,” Cody said, grabbing his helmet and dragging you up the stairs by the wrist. You followed along but made sure to walk slowly, just so he’d have to put the extra bit of effort into getting you there. As you resisted, his fingers tightened slightly in warning.

When you had gotten upstairs and into the bedroom of your small apartment, Cody finally released your arm. He dropped his helmet on your dresser and pushed you back onto the bed, kissing you again. You whimpered as he slipped a hand under your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra.

“Cody--” you gasped between kisses, but Cody only smirked and pinched your nipple roughly. You cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain, trying to press into his touch.

“No, no. Address me with respect,” he said, and you whimpered as he looked down at you. One of his legs slotted between yours, and he held himself over your chest with his free arm. All you could think of was how he looked over you.

“Commander,” you said in a mockingly sweet tone. Cody growled and kissed you again, this time trailing kisses and soft bites down your neck and jaw. The hand that had been covering your breast was now toying with the edge of your shirt, and you pulled back to let him take it off. When your shirt was discarded, Cody made quick work of your bra, and you had to hold back a moan as he looked at your now exposed chest reverently.

“See something you like?” you teased, but the dark look in Cody’s eyes shut you up immediately. He looked near feral, as if he was trying to stop himself from lunging at you right then and there. Involuntarily, a grin started to creep across your face.

“Something funny, pretty girl?” Cody said, reaching out and grazing his thumb over one of your nipples.

“You just look so eager--ah!” you were cut off as Cody took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling the other between his fingers. You could feel him smirk against you as you continued to whimper, your breathy moans turning needy as he continued his work.

“You like that, sweet girl?” he teased, sitting back so he could watch your chest heave as you sucked in labored breaths.

“Cody, I swear if you don’t fuck me right now,” you said, but your threat had no force behind it. Nonetheless, Cody started to remove his armor, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re not very patient,” he said, one eyebrow raised.

“I’ve been known to be a bit demanding at times,” you said, pleased that you got what you wanted.

“The only thing you’ll be by the time I’m finished is a cockdumb little whore,” Cody challenged, and you swallowed thickly. He had finished taking off his armor and was now pulling his shirt over his head, and you tried to memorize the plains of his body as quickly as you could. The muscles in his abdomen flexed as he relaxed, and you couldn’t help but notice the thin trail of dark hair that crept down below the waistband of his blacks.

“See something you like?” he parroted back your earlier words. You nodded, and Cody smiled as he tugged you closer to him once more. His hands worked at the button on your pants, and before you knew it, he was shimmying the garment down your hips, leaving you in just your panties. With a gentle push, you fell back against the bed and Cody positioned himself between your thighs.

“You’ve soaked through your panties, pretty girl,” Cody said, tracing one finger lightly over your slit. You whined, trying to jerk your hips up for more friction, but he merely chuckled and placed an arm over your hips. “No, you’ll take what I give you,”

“Yes, Commander,” you looked down at him with glassy eyes, the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over you was almost too much. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long, because Cody pulled your panties to the side and dove in, lapping up the wetness you had already created before wrapping his lips around your clit. Your mouth dropped open with your loud moan.

“For all your bravado, you’re quite easy to control,” Cody said, voice rumbling against you in a way that sent sparks flying up your spine. He was right, as much as you hated to admit it; the way he was working your body right now, you would’ve committed murder if he’d asked. His tongue traced lazy circles over your clit, occasionally dipping down to thrust into you for a moment, making you squeal.

“Ahh! Commander!” your moans were whiny, and you could almost feel Cody’s ego inflating as you writhed underneath him. Suddenly, he slipped one thick finger into you, and you clenched around it so hard that Cody throbbed in his blacks.

“That’s it, take my fingers. Have to prepare you for my cock, pretty girl,” he growled before giving your clit another teasing lick. A second finger joined the first, and you bucked your hips up to meet them. Cody laughed. “It’s so easy to make you squirm,”

“Don’t get smug on me,” you tried to scold him, but it came out as a whine. You could rapidly feel your orgasm approaching, and you tried to warn the man underneath you, but your words all turned into moans as you tried to form them.

“Come on, pretty girl, let go for me,” Cody ordered, and you did as he asked. Clenching around his fingers, you whimpered as he worked you through it. It wasn’t until you were too over sensitive to bear it that he finally pulled away.

“Holy shit,” you said dreamily, head still a little fuzzy from your orgasm. Cody kissed you once more, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Commander, please,”

“Please what?” he said back, and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what I want,” you said, trailing your hand down until you could rub him through his blacks. He groaned as you palmed him, and you smiled innocently.

“Ask for it nicely,” Cody teased. He was nearly as impatient as you were, however, and he was already reaching for the waistband of his blacks.

“Please fuck me, Commander,” you said, rolling your hips against his in an attempt to get some friction. Your shame had flown completely out the window, your brain now singularly focused on the man above you.

Grinning eagerly, Cody pulled off his pants and discarded them, and your mouth hung open slightly at the sight of his cock. You quickly closed it when you heard Cody snort in amusement, and pouted as he lined himself up.

“You still want this?” he asked, face so close that you could feel his breath on your neck.

“Stop teasing and just do it already!” your voice pitched up as he slowly pushed himself in. You could feel him stretching you, and Cody swore under his breath as he bottomed out.

“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned, rocking his hips slightly to let you adjust to the movement. You hooked one leg around his waist, trying to pull him deeper into you.

“Please, I’m not gonna break, Commander,” you gave him your best doe eyes, and Cody growled and thrust into you hard, pushing you up the bed slightly. He kept a steady pace, making sure to press his cock as deep as it would go with every thrust. He grabbed the leg that you had wrapped around his waist and pulled it up until it was sitting on his shoulder, letting him hit a whole new angle inside you.

Your whimpering turned into loud moans as he continued pounding into you, hitting the bundle of nerves inside of you that sent spots flying through your vision. Cody gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as he fucked you. His face was dusted pink from exertion, and his pupils were blown so wide that they nearly eclipsed the soft amber of the iris.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Cody groaned, his grip on your chin tightening. “Want my pretty girl to feel good,”

“So fucking good, feel so big inside me,” you stammered, unable to think about much other than the way he was fucking you. Your back arched off the bed as Cody dropped your chin and trailed his hand down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on it.

“There’s my little cockdumb girl,” he said, a tinge of admiration in his voice. “Taking me so fucking well,”

“Yes, please, anything!” your words were jumbled, but Cody seemed to know what you meant. His thumb worked faster on your clit, and you squirmed, trying to lean into the touch and wriggle away from it at the same time. Cody held you in place, watching your chest heave as he brought you closer and closer to orgasm.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he said, and you did, a broken moan of his name on your lips. He fucked you through it, his thrusts getting erratic as you tightened around him. As you trembled with the aftershocks, you were able to see Cody pull out of you and jerk himself a few times, before spilling all over his hand and your stomach.

“Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” you said. Your voice was still a little shaky, and Cody laughed at how fucked out you sounded. He swiped a towel from your attached ‘fresher and cleaned you off, before falling into bed beside you.

“Practice,” he said smugly, and you rolled your eyes. “So was I?”

“Hmm?” you mumbled sleepily, snuggling your face into the clone’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you comfortingly.

“You said I looked like a good fuck. Was I?” he said, kissing the top of your head playfully.

“Well, I’m not completely cockdumb like you said I’d be,” you said, a mischievous smirk on your face. Cody sat up, a wicked look in his eyes. A surge of arousal pooled in your stomach.

“Guess we’re not done, then,”

#commander cody #marshal commander cody #cc-2224 #commander cody x f!reader #commander cody x reader #commander cody smut #star wars #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #tcw #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars smut

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starryhyuck · 4 years

Text

monetary value. (m) | richkid!mark

pairing: richkid!mark x richkid!reader

words: 8k+

summary: falling in love with mark lee is not as easy as it seems. especially when you’re both engaged to other people.

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: dom!mark, sub!reader, creampie, kind of infidelity, little exhibitionism, office sex, riding, unprotected sex, overstimulation

thank you for 1400 followers!!

you fall in love with mark lee in the summer of 2018.

it’s short but blissful — filled with longing gazes, soft whispers and the crisp trepidation that it would all be taken away from you someday.

and it was. you watch as mark loops his arm around mina’s waist, smiling for the cameras as the flashes drown their figures. you throw back your glass of champagne and you feel someone grasp your arm.

your brother, jaehyun, is giving you a warning look. “don’t cause a scene,” he hisses down at you. you roll your eyes at him.

it wasn’t your choice to separate and it wasn’t mark’s either. you two had obligations that you needed to return to — mark’s being mina and yours being yukhei. you’ve both been engaged for several years in order to bring your respective companies success, and falling in love with someone else was never in the cards for you.

yukhei was a lovely, gentle soul, but he wasn’t what you wanted. you wanted it to be that summer all the time. you wanted to feel mark’s hand grip yours at the local cafe. you wanted him to greedily kiss you on the sand while the waves crash against the shore. you wanted his fingers to brush away strands of your hair while he gently makes love to you underneath the moonlight.

you and mark ended things once summer was over. you both knew you couldn’t carry on with what you were doing after being betrothed to other people. you returned to yukhei with a heavy heart, and your fiancé remained oblivious, simply overjoyed to have you back home with him.

jaehyun is the one of the only people who knows of the affair. you tell your brother everything as you know you can trust him wholeheartedly. he also keeps you firm and grounded, reminding you of your place in this socialite world.

“i’m not causing a scene,” you reply to your brother. he gives you a hasty look.

you spot yukhei walking over and jaehyun disappears, leaving you with your fiancé. yukhei has his signature smile painted on his lips, coming to your side and offering you another glass of champagne.

“this place is nice, isn’t it? i was surprised at first when chenle decided to buy it, but now i can see why,” he murmurs to you.

your eyes roam around the expansive building, topped with a golden chandelier and dozens of socialites roaming about, sipping champagne and speaking frivolously to one another. zhong chenle, a close friend of yukhei, bought the building a couple of years ago and today was the grand opening of the new remodel. yukhei was more than excited this morning to attend, having been stuck at his father’s office for the past month working on the merger with your family.

“it’s very pretty,” you remark, your eyes once again finding mark’s figure. he speaks to na jaemin with a wide smile, his arm still snug around mina’s waist.

yukhei hums next to you. “chenle wanted to have dinner with us tomorrow night. i think jisung might tag along too. what do you think?”

you offer your best smile to him. “sounds great, yukhei.”

he beams back at you. you wish you could love yukhei as much as he clearly loves you. but no, your heart still lays with the man across the room.

“i’m going to go to the restroom,” you announce, handing him your champagne glass. he nods and after you step away, you hear kunhang approach him and ask him about how things are going at the company.

you need to breathe. you’re not trying to cause a scene of any kind like jaehyun thinks you are, but you need to be more loving and faithful to yukhei so that everyone is convinced by this sham of a marriage. mark plays his part well, and you need to do the same.

you’re staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror when mina walks in, pausing at the sight of you. you know that mina knows what happened between you and mark that summer, considering mark couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

she doesn’t say a word when she stands next to you, fixing her hair in the mirror. your fingers grip the sink as the silence passes, tension filling the air.

“i’m sorry.”

you refuse to look at her as she makes her apology.

“you have nothing to apologize for,” you mutter back to her. she shakes her head.

“i do. i wish things were different, i really do.”

you can hear the sympathy in her voice, but you don’t want any part of it. you’re grateful that mina understands in some way instead of revealing your secrets to yukhei, but the emotion is overpowered by the feeling of jealousy that mina gets to be the one to go home with mark at the end of the day.

you exit the bathroom with a heavy heart, trying to find yukhei in the midst of the crowd. you’re stopped by naeun, who smiles gently at you and pulls you to the side.

“are you alright?”

naeun has been engaged to your brother since she was seven, but the only difference between their relationship and yours was that naeun and jaehyun actually loved each other. naeun acted as a sibling to you, and you didn’t mind jaehyun telling her your secrets from time to time because she was so understanding. she was constantly checking up on you to make sure you and yukhei were doing alright. most of the time, yukhei was but you were not.

“i’m doing fine, naeun.”

she frowns at your lie. her eyes flit over to where mark is standing, mina rejoining his side.

“he doesn’t love her.”

you shake your head. “it doesn’t matter.”

you find yukhei next to xiaojun and give him a soft kiss on the cheek, causing his whole face to light up at your affection.

this is where you belong. you simply can’t afford to think otherwise.

—

“i was thinking we could go to paris for your birthday. i know a few friends who live there.”

you smile at yukhei, who is eagerly leaning across the kitchen counter to speak to you. he looks like a kid on christmas day as he talks about your birthday plans.

you honestly didn’t want to do anything lavish this year. usually, your parents pay for some expensive trip as compensation for not giving a fuck about you. since you’re living on your own with yukhei now, they don’t really feel guilty anymore when they forget about you.

you’ve liked your past birthdays, most of them being spent in spain or italy. your favorite birthday was in athens, where jaehyun had first introduced you to mark.

you shake the thought out of your head to respond to yukhei.

“xuxi, i don’t really want to go anywhere this year. staying at home would be nice.”

he frowns. “that’s not fun! come on, this is the perfect time to take a vacation. we can go anywhere you’d like.”

you finish up the remains of your lunch and put the dishes in the sink. yukhei is adamant on following you out of the kitchen and into the living room. you lean down to pick up your laptop sitting on the couch but he stops you.

he has a serious gaze planted on his face and he sighs.

“i know you don’t really want to be married to me,” he whispers.

you avoid his stare. “what are you talking about?”

“i can see right through you, y/n. i’ve known you long enough.” he pauses, his fingers running over your hand gently. you still refuse to look at him, knowing you’ll only see the desperation in his eyes. “just give me a chance? i don’t want you to be stuck with me if you’re going to be unhappy.”

“i’m not unhappy, xuxi.”

“you are. i know you are.”

you exhale and he takes a step back from you so you can breathe.

“just let me throw you this party, okay? i promise it’ll be fun.”

and you feel bad. you feel awful because yukhei’s known this whole time that you’ve never loved him.

“okay.”

two weeks later, you find yourself in the heart of paris. yukhei made all of the arrangements fairly quickly, the both of you rooming in an apartment next to his friends, ten and yangyang. you know absolutely nothing about your party, and yukhei intends on keeping it that way.

he’s been doting on you since the plane landed in france, taking you to all of these art galleries and finding multiple bakeries to soothe your sweet tooth. you can tell yukhei is trying his hardest to change your mind, but everywhere you go, you see mark.

you see him as lovers pass by you, holding hands and smiling at one another affectionately. you see him as you gaze up at the eiffel tower, the lights shining down on your figure. you even see him when you look at yukhei, wishing mark was beside you instead.

you think back to that summer in greece when you first fell in love with him.

“you’re a little clumsy for a billionaire’s son, aren’t you?”

mark rolls his eyes at your teasing and you giggle. his cheeks redden as the both of you lean down to wipe up the coffee mark spilled all over the floor.

mark left the balcony door open so the breeze could flow inside but when a gust of wind throttled him, he spilled his morning coffee everywhere. he was such a klutz, yet you could never stay mad at him for long.

“the wind is really strong today, okay?”

you laugh again, throwing the soggy paper towels in the trash. you stand up and kiss him gently.

“you’re so silly.”

he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. “but you love me anyway.”

you chuckle. “i guess i do.”

“so what do you think?”

you’re taken out of your daydream by the sound of yukhei’s voice. the both of you are sitting outside of a cafe, enjoying the gentle breeze of paris.

“sorry, what did you say?”

yukhei laughs softly at you. “about dropping by ten’s art gallery tonight? he’s been working really hard on his latest collection.”

“oh,” you murmur, breaking off a piece of the croissant yukhei bought you. “yeah, that sounds nice.”

he nods at your answer and takes a sip of his cappuccino. the two of you eat and drink in silence and although you find it comforting, you can tell his mind is swirling. he’s clearly troubled by your indifference to him. you’ve tried to make it better over the past few days, holding his hand and giving him kisses on the cheek here and there. he knows, however, that you don’t really mean it.

later that night, you slip on your favorite red dress from versace and pair it with some black louboutins. yukhei waits for you by the door, beaming when you approach him.

“you look beautiful,” he comments, sliding your jacket over your shoulders.

“thanks, xuxi.”

the car ride to the gallery is spent in silence, and you realize most of your interactions with yukhei consist of this now. you hate it because you and yukhei used to talk so freely, but you can tell he considers this trip to be a turning point in your relationship.

when you arrive at the venue, yukhei quickly jogs over to open your door for you, and you smile as you take his hand and step out of the car. you thank the driver and loop your arm through yukhei’s, walking slowly up the steps to the gallery.

“have fun tonight,” he murmurs to you. you furrow your eyebrows at his odd statement, but it all comes clear to you once yukhei swings open the door.

you’re drowned in a chorus of surprise! and you’re in shock by the sight before you. all of the people who run within your circle are gathered in this small art gallery, huddled together as streamers fall down from the ceiling.

naeun and jaehyun approach you first, both of them offering a hug.

“happy birthday!”

even though your birthday wasn’t for another two days, you figure this was part of the illusion of yukhei’s surprise.

“how did you guys get here?” you ask, still a little frazzled by everyone’s appearance.

naeun giggles at you. “xuxi arranged everything!”

“yeah, isn’t that nice of him?” jaehyun questions. you know what he’s implying, but you ignore it.

more of your friends envelop you into their arms, giving you happy birthday greetings or complimenting your appearance. you smile at all of them, accepting their kind words as you try to get through everybody. you feel a little overwhelmed by the attention but you do your best to thank everyone for coming.

it probably wasn’t a hassle for most of them to fly to paris on such short notice, given most of your friends like taking spontaneous trips anyway. you’re pretty sure yuta was just in new york yesterday with sicheng.

you lose yukhei again in the crowd, rina pulling you aside and asking how your romantic getaway with yukhei has been. all of your friends seem to buy into your blossoming relationship, and they have no reason not to.

“everything’s going great, rina,” you smile tightly.

she grins and clutches your arm. “it’s so sweet how he did all of this for you! i would die if i was in your place.”

you nod and laugh, ignoring the guilt pooling in your stomach. you know that no matter how nice yukhei treats you and how hard he tries to be the man you want, you can never love him the way he wants to be loved. you can never have what your brother and naeun have.

rina leaves you to get a glass of champagne and that’s when you hear him.

“happy birthday.”

your back stiffens. you can identify that voice anywhere. it’s the same voice that used to sing you to bed, strumming his guitar gently as his gentle hums lull you to slumber. it’s the same voice that asked you if you would wait for him when the seasons changed. it’s the same voice who whispered sweet nothings to you during those late nights when it was only you and him.

you turn around to look at him. mina’s right by his side, looking a little uncomfortable by the interaction.

he looks as handsome as ever — wearing a suit from armani’s latest collection. your eyes focus on the cufflinks he’s wearing, the same pair you bought him for his birthday two years ago.

his gaze is heavy and you feel trapped underneath it. was it possible for him to be your biggest daydream and your greatest nightmare all at once?

“thank you,” you clear your throat. “i’m glad you both could make it.”

you fail to decipher the look in his eyes. you feel as if time has stopped, and there’s no one else in the room except you and him. mina averts her gaze, feeling as if this is too intimate for her to see.

mark whispers delicately to you, but you swear that he’s screaming.

“we wouldn’t miss it.”

—

it’s two hours later when you feel completely exhausted, walking outside to catch some fresh air. you’ve talked to yukhei only once since the party’s started. he’s been distracted by ten and yangyang, all three of them laughing and catching up with one another. you have no problems with this considering it’s the happiest you’ve seen yukhei in weeks.

you settle down on the outdoor steps, sighing softly and gazing at the night sky.

you hear the door open but you figure it’s just doyoung leaving early. he usually has morning meetings but he always makes sure to attend these gatherings for his friends.

you’re surprised when you catch mark in the corner of your eye, taking a seat beside you. you freeze, not really sure exactly what he’s doing.

“we could’ve made it work.”

you pause for a few seconds before responding.

“no, we couldn’t have.”

he chuckles and shakes his head, staring down at the concrete steps. you bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on top of them.

to have mark this close to you after so long — it felt both terrifying and freeing at the same time.

“we should’ve left,” he whispers. you hear the crack in his voice and you shut your eyes. “that night in plaka. we should’ve run away. you’re not supposed to be with him and i’m not supposed to be with her.”

“you’re wrong,” you murmur, feeling choked up already. “we were always meant to be with them. xuxi would’ve searched for me if i had left-“

“bullshit,” mark hisses, turning to face you now. you keep your eyes closed but you can feel his stare burning through the side of your head. “look at what yukhei’s done just to make you happy. you honestly think he wouldn’t let you go if he knew it’s what you wanted?”

you can feel a tear slip out and you sniffle, wiping it away frantically with the back of your hand. mark’s heart breaks at the sight of you crying.

“i don’t want to argue with you,” you whisper breathily. “what’s done is done. you get married to mina and i get married to yukhei. that’s how it was always supposed to go.”

you think mark will leave then, but he stays by your side, eyes staring up at the moon. you can hear the tremble in his voice the next time he speaks.

“i fucking miss you. i miss you so fucking much, you don’t even understand,” he says, hands balling up into fists. “i wish we could go back. remember that night we met in athens? you looked straight out of heaven, i swear. i knew i wanted you then. just like how i want you now.”

“stop,” you mutter. “stop saying those things.”

“why? it’s the truth,” he scoffs.

you feel a burst of anger flare in your chest. your eyes flutter open and you glare at him.

“you think i don’t miss you either? you think that that summer meant nothing to me? fuck, mark, i think about you all the goddamn time. i think about you when i’m supposed to be thinking about yukhei. when i’m supposed to be marrying him, not you.”

the door swings open again and you both turn to see who it is. yukhei walks out, his face confused by the sight of your teary eyes. he rushes over, leaning down and checking on you.

“hey, you okay? what happened?”

“nothing,” you smile at him, giggling a little to reassure him. “i just drank too much champagne. mark was out here comforting me.”

mark looks frustrated by your words, and he’s clearly not liking the fact that yukhei’s trying to take care of you. his hands are still balled into fists as he stands up. he puts on his best grin for yukhei to see.

“just wanted to make sure the birthday girl has a good time,” he assures. you watch as he walks back into the building, his figure disappearing into the sea of bodies.

“you sure you’re okay?” yukhei murmurs, checking you over again. he’s never really seen you cry and he’s honestly panicking a little on the inside.

you put on your best smile once again.

“i’m fine.”

—

“mark, this is my sister, y/n. y/n, this is mark.”

you smile at the man jaehyun has presented before you. you’re a little tipsy and you quickly adjust the birthday girl tiara that’s threatening to fall off your head. jaehyun laughs at your ridiculousness.

“nice to meet you, mark lee. my brother talks so fondly of his soulmate.”

mark chuckles out of embarrassment, the tips of his ears growing red. “ah, jaehyun just jokes about that.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes. “don’t act like we weren’t meant to be, mark.”

mark’s cheeks grow redder if it was even humanly possible. you giggle at his cute nature. jaehyun is soon whisked away by johnny, who is asking your brother to play beer pong with him. you snicker at their antics.

you’re left alone with mark, and to be perfectly honest, he’s a little awkward. a little too awkward to be a big shot ceo.

“aren’t you supposed to be the heir of lee enterprises?” you shout over the blaring music. it’s only fitting that jaehyun chose a raging club in athens as the venue for your party this year. you were genuinely having a good time, especially because you didn’t have to worry about pretending to be in love with yukhei — he couldn’t join the trip since he needed to step up to his duties at the company.

mark laughs at your question. “that’s my brother, taeyong! i’m just the stand-in second child.”

you smile at his joke. “same here! i’m the disappointment, jaehyun’s the looker!”

you both chuckle and you take a step forward, ignoring the way mark’s breath gets caught in his throat at your action. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“wanna get out of here?”

you toss and turn in bed, struggling to fall asleep. yukhei grumbles next to you, having fallen asleep over a hour ago. you sigh and get up as quietly as possible, trying your best not to wake your fiancé. you succeed as yukhei doesn’t move an inch, still as a rock while he dozes on.

you move to the balcony connected to your bedroom, shutting the door quietly and taking a seat on one of the lounge chairs. it’s a little cold and you wrap your blanket tighter around yourself.

the party ended without a hitch tonight, most of your friends still laughing and drinking together when you and yukhei left. he was worried about you after he caught you outside with mark, but after repeatedly reassuring him that you were okay, he let it go.

you didn’t see mark after your conversation, and you assume he left quickly with mina to avoid doing something he would regret. you think about his words as you stare down at the small streets of paris. you can still hear people chattering even though it’s already 4am, most of them drunk and stumbling on their way back home.

your mind travels to the last night you spent with mark during that summer. he was begging you to leave with him, practically on his knees to try and convince you.

“just come with me. we can start a different life. we don’t have any ties to hold us down! jaehyun and taeyong will both take over our companies, they don’t need us to be there!”

you shake your head at his ludicrous idea. “are you insane? did you forget about mina? about yukhei? they’re both waiting for us to come home, mark.”

“i am home,” he says strictly, walking over to you and gently stroking your cheek. “i’m right here with you, and that’s the only place i need to be. we don’t need to do this to ourselves, baby. we don’t need to separate. let’s get on the next flight to wherever and start a new life.”

you push him away and sigh. “we can’t. i can’t do that to him.”

“do you love him?”

you narrow your eyes. “no, and you know very well that i never have. i’m just not going to be some asshole who leaves her fiancé and her family with no explanation whatsoever. we both knew this wasn’t forever, mark.”

he tugs at his hair, clearly frustrated with your stubborn nature.

“so you’re telling me that you’re going to go home and act like everything’s fine? you’re going to walk down the aisle and get married to yukhei and not think of me?”

you turn away from him, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill. realization is hitting you like a truck — this would have to be it. you can’t see mark again. everything that’s happened since the beginning of summer is coming to an end.

“yes, that’s exactly what i’m going to do. i recommend you do the same.”

mark watches your back tremble as you refuse to face him. he exhales, running his hands down his face exasperatedly. minutes pass in complete silence, the only sound being heard are your small sniffles and mark’s occasional sigh.

“i love you,” he whispers. “i love you, and that’s not going to stop. i don’t care if i have to tell yukhei myself, but i’m going to make you realize it.”

the weight of mark’s words still linger in your mind. you ponder over the consequences if you do decide to leave yukhei. honestly, you didn’t want to break his heart. he’s always been so kind to you and understanding, despite your indifference towards him. he’s treated you that way since you two were younger. the only flaw about yukhei is that he loves you.

you wish you had one of those romance stories where you grew up with yukhei and fell in love with him when you both became adults. it would make everything so much easier if that were the case.

on the other hand, you couldn’t embarrass your family. your parents have worked so hard just to build the family business from the ground up. jaehyun’s been trained to step in as ceo since the day he was born, and the merger with naeun and yukhei’s family would bring your company’s profits through the roof. you couldn’t afford to lose yukhei and potentially damage the future of jung corporation.

you can’t decipher if you’re using these reasons as excuses. you’ve always been scared to go against your parents’s wishes. you were so young when they told you that you would be married to yukhei, and you’ve been raised to believe that everything they’re doing for you is for your own good.

maybe you really were a coward. you’re just afraid to fully take the leap with mark — to leave everything behind and be known as a disgrace to the rest of your family. mark was ready to sacrifice everything to be with you, but your cowardice prevented you from doing the same.

the door to the balcony opens and yukhei peers out, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“what are you doing out here?”

“couldn’t sleep.”

he joins you on the balcony, gently shutting the door behind him. he settles on the chair next to you. you both bask in the silence for a while before yukhei speaks up.

“have you been in love with mark for a long time?”

your head darts up, eyes widening at his question. you stare at yukhei but he doesn’t look at you, continuing to peer over the balcony.

“w-what- how did you-“

“you never cry,” he replies. “you only cry when you’re overwhelmed or seriously hurt. i’ve seen you drink at least seven glasses of champagne without ever tearing up. it also wasn’t hard to tell that mark wanted to murder me as soon as i came over to you.”

“yukhei,” you whisper. “i-“

“i know. you don’t need to be sorry. i should’ve known — you were always so dismissive and standoffish whenever we were at a party with the lee’s. you also weren’t the same when you returned from greece.”

you try to digest the fact that not only did yukhei know about you and mark, but he also knew you so well that he could tell something was off about you.

he takes a brief pause before asking his next question. “did you think i would be mad? that i wouldn’t let you be happy?”

you shake your head. “i just- i couldn’t disappoint everybody-“

he throws his head back and releases a throaty laugh.

“y/n, who gives a fuck about what anyone thinks? i’ve watched you be miserable over the past two years because you’re torturing yourself with this idea that you need to please everyone.” he turns to you and takes your hands in his. “i really do love you. more than i’ve ever loved anyone else. so that’s why i’m telling you that you need to find mark and be with him before it’s too late.”

“xuxi, it’s not that easy-“

“but it is!” he exclaims, trying to get you to see the bigger picture. “don’t you understand how easy it is? listen, the merger with your family is already ninety-five percent complete. there’s no way in hell my father is going to back out of this, especially after our stocks rose by a considerable amount last month. we don’t need to be married. our relationship was just the first step for both of our companies.”

your bottom lip trembles while you register all of the information he’s throwing your way. yukhei is telling you that you can be with mark now, you have nothing holding you back. everything would be perfect if you just weren’t so-

“scared,” you mumble. “i’m so scared, xuxi.”

“i know, i know you are,” he says, eyes staring at you in worry. “just talk to him. if he loves you, he’ll listen.”

—

when you come back home, you’re a little out of touch with reality. the first thing yukhei wants you to do is call mark but since you’re still trying to register everything, he lets you be.

he takes the guest room while you try to sort out whatever the fuck is going on in your head. you call naeun in the midst of your imminent breakdown, and she answers immediately.

“why can’t me and yukhei be like you and jaehyun?”

she’s a little startled by your question but she replies anyway.

“because you don’t love yukhei. you love mark.”

and it sounds so idiotic because you already knew this, but hearing someone else say it makes all the lightbulbs click.

“thanks, naeun.”

the first person you want to talk to is mina. you really don’t know mina well, the both of you simply acknowledging each other at parties. her brother, seungyoon, was the head of kang corporation and working on the merger with taeyong.

you’re in your head as you drive over to the kang household, fingers gripping the steering wheel while you try to think of what to say.

mina is surprised when she opens up the door to see your figure behind it. you both awkwardly stare at one another before you clear your throat.

“can we talk?”

she nods, stepping back to let you in. you two rest comfortably on the kang’s living room couch while one of the maids serves some tea for the both of you to drink. mina avoids your gaze but you can tell she is curious about why you’ve decided to visit.

“um,” you start off, trying to find the words to say. “i came over because i wanted to talk to you about mark.”

“oh. well, mark isn’t here,” she replies. “he hasn’t lived with me since he came back from greece.”

“oh,” you murmur, feeling embarrassed. you’re sure that mark’s living situation changed because of you. “i didn’t know that.”

she sighs. “y/n, i wasn’t lying that night when i told you i wished things were different. i don’t love mark and i know for sure he doesn’t love me. you’re all he can think about since that summer, and we only put on a good show for the cameras.”

you exhale. “i’m sorry. we shouldn’t have been so reckless, especially knowing you and yukhei were waiting-“

you’re surprised when mina throws her head back and laughs.

“i don’t care about that.” she comes over and sits next to you, looking into your eyes. “i actually love someone else just as mark loves you. i loathe this marriage as much as you do.”

you widen your eyes. “wait, what? who?”

mina blushes then, averting her gaze from you. she clears her throat.

“do you know the hwang family?”

you choke. “hwang hyunjin?”

her cheeks grow redder as she nods. she stares down at her feet while she speaks to you. “that’s not the point. i’m just saying that if you want to go to mark, by all means, i’m not stopping you. it would make him less grumpy.”

you laugh, feeling as if a big weight has been taken off your shoulders.

“thank you, mina.”

you head to lee enterprises on a mission, wearing mark’s favorite floral dress and the cartier necklace he bought you. you know he’s bound to be in the office right now, especially since taeyong is away in japan for business affairs.

you’re nervous as you can feel the stares of the company workers on you when you walk through the glass doors. you keep your head low and sigh when you get to the elevator, pressing the highest floor before anyone can get in with you.

you go over and over in your head what you plan to say to mark but you know you’re going to forget everything anyways the moment you see him. when the elevator doors open, you scan the area and try to identify where mark’s office is before anyone sees you.

you’re caught when jungwoo lays his eyes on you as he walks by.

“y/n?”

you laugh awkwardly. “uh, hey, jungwoo. do you happen to know where mark’s office is?”

he blinks twice, clearly surprised by your presence.

“yeah, um, his office is in the back. next to taeyong’s.”

“thanks,” you mutter, glancing at him one more time before scurrying away. you’re fully embarrassed now but you can’t afford to go back, not when you’ve made it this far.

you awkwardly enter the waiting room of mark’s office and his secretary, renjun, is shocked to see you.

“oh, hi y/n. did you have an appointment with mark?”

“not really,” you reply. “is he with someone right now?”

“well, no, but-“

“okay, great!” you beam at him, and renjun stutters when you knock on the door to mark’s office.

when you hear him call come in, you take a deep breath before opening the door.

mark is working diligently at his desk, head down as he shuffles through papers. you close the door so that renjun doesn’t hear anything. mark’s yet to look up at you, focused on the task at hand.

“what is it, renjun?”

“i’m a coward, and i’m sorry.”

mark’s head darts up at the sound of your voice, and he swears he’s dreaming.

there’s absolutely no way you’re standing in front of him right now. he stands up, pinching his leg to make sure he’s actually awake. you walk closer to him, trying to gather all of the courage you can muster.

“we should’ve run away together.”

he comes over to you, stumbling a little and almost tripping on one of the chairs, causing you to giggle. he stands in front of you but he’s lost on if he’s allowed to touch you. you smile and decide for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently.

mark digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you closer. the kiss quickly turns into something else as mark is greedily trying to get you as close to him as possible.

you pull away, slightly breathless. “don’t you want to know why i’m here?”

“i haven’t had you like this in two years, baby. i don’t really give a fuck about anything else right now.”

you end up pinned underneath him as he lays your body across his desk, desperate to get a feel of you. he stumbles as he quickly tries to find the phone and you watch him click a few buttons before renjun’s voice comes over the speaker.

“yes?”

“cancel everything today. you can go home early, renjun.”

“mark, you have that meeting with-“

he hangs up the phone, returning to pressing kisses against your collarbone. his fingers work on pushing up your dress so he can fully see the lacy underwear you’re wearing.

“mark,” you hiss, trying to get him to slow down so you can actually have a conversation with him. he’s rabid at this point, pulling down the top of your dress and attaching his lips to your mound. “mark, i wanted to let you know that i finally realized how stupid i was during that summer.”

he hums around your breast, flicking his tongue over your nipple. you moan and tug at his hair.

“mark, yukhei made me realize something.”

“please don’t talk about yukhei right now,” he murmurs, moving his attention to your other breast. “you’re so pretty, baby. did you wear this dress just for me? you know how much i like it. gives me easy access. remember when i fucked you in that alleyway in plaka?”

and you do remember. you were high on adrenaline that day and mark was absolutely mesmerized by the way your dress would bounce whenever you took a step. he was practically dying to get a taste of you and so you let him pound you ruthlessly in an empty alleyway. it didn’t end there either — he also fingered you in a cafe bathroom and let you ride his cock on the balcony of your shared apartment in athens.

let’s just say mark really liked this dress and you two were also very sexually active that summer.

“missed you, baby,” he murmurs. “haven’t fucked anyone else in two years.”

your eyes widen. “you haven’t fucked anyone in two years?”

he shakes his head. “can’t. only think of you.”

he moves up so that he’s face to face with you again. you rub your thumb over his cheek.

“i’m sorry. i love you. i wish i wasn’t so stupid.”

he laughs. “you’re not stupid. a little out of your mind, maybe.”

you whine when mark plays with the waistband of your underwear.

“aren’t we going a little too fast?”

he chuckles. “this is coming from the girl who rented a whole movie theater just so we could fuck in there all day.”

you narrow your eyes. “touché.”

soon enough, mark’s got your dress and underwear on the floor, his tongue lapping at your folds. you cry out, tugging fistfuls of his hair while he devours your pussy.

mark’s clearly clouded by lust and the office is filled with sounds of him slurping your juices. you try to give mark a warning that your orgasm is approaching fast, but he’s lost in his own world, eyes closed as he eats you out. you soar into your first orgasm and sob, bucking your hips up into mark’s mouth.

he groans when you cum, not stopping his relentless assault on your pussy. you whine from the overstimulation and try to push him away, but mark is persistent, using his hands to pin your thighs down to the table.

you forgot how much mark likes to see you cum. you remember being completely drained that summer in greece after mark pounded into you every night, desperate to see you fall apart over and over again.

you throw your head back when another climax builds just as quickly as the first. he pulls away from you and pushes a finger inside your weeping hole, curling it upwards.

“missed this pussy, baby,” he murmurs. “forgot how wet and tight you are. gonna take my cock later like a good girl?”

“yes, yes,” you chant, moaning when mark adds another finger.

“come on, baby. come on,” he whispers, picking up his pace and inserting a third finger. to throw you over the edge, he attaches his lips to your clit and sucks hard.

you thrash underneath his hold as your orgasm sweeps over your body, heightening your senses and throwing you deep into pleasure. you ride out your high on his fingers and when you whine again from the oversensitivity, mark stands up and unbuckles his belt.

you gasp when he lifts you off from the desk and drags you over to the large, glass windows that cover half of his office. you whimper when he presses you up against the glass.

you’re high enough to where the people walking on the sidewalk can’t see you unless they really looked, but the thrill still pulsates through your veins. you can’t even imagine what you look like — your breasts exposed and your dress bunched up at your waist.

mark’s grunting behind you, slacks around his ankles as he fists at his cock. you whine and arch your back, desperate to feel him fully.

“want me, baby?” he whispers in your ear. you shudder. “tell me how much you missed me.”

“m-missed you s-so much,” you blubber, pressing your hands up against the window. “fuck me mark, please.”

he slowly pushes into you and you cry at the stretch, feeling the burn in your throat. he soothes you through it, rubbing his thumb over your hip when he bottoms out. he gives you time to get adjusted, pressing small kisses against the curve of your spine.

“feel so good, baby. wet and snug around me, you fit like a fucking glove. did yukhei ever fill you this well?”

“i-i never f-fucked yukhei,” you reply.

the answer pleases him and he takes an experimental thrust into you. when you moan at the pleasure, mark turns into someone else.

you try your best to balance yourself on the glass while mark relentlessly pummels into you, pushing you further and further up the window. his hands move to cup your breasts and he licks at your neck, wanting to touch you everywhere.

“a-angel,” he hisses in your ear, the sound of his balls slapping against your clit filling the air. “my perfect little angel. little cock whore, aren’t you?”

you barely register his words and mark growls when he doesn’t receive an answer. his fingers grip your face and he brings you against his chest. you sob when the angle has him hitting you deeper.

“don’t wanna answer? been fucked too dumb to reply, baby? missed my cock, didn’t you?” you quickly nod at his questions, eyes rolling back as he constantly hits your sweet spot. “thought about you all the time. jacked off every single night to the thought of having you like this again. missed you so much.”

“m-missed you too, mark,” you mumble back to him.

his other hand moves down to stimulate your clit and you grip his wrist, your body going into overdrive. you convulse around his cock and you spasm around him, crying and whining while mark holds you firmly.

he moves the two of you so that he’s sitting in his office chair with you on top of him. you wail when he slaps your ass.

“ride me.”

despite your shaky legs, you follow his orders and build a steady pace on top of him. he watches as you swivel your hips and groans at how good you feel around him. you pick up your pace when the pleasure builds up in your tummy again. mark’s fingers dig into your hips as he tries to guide you up and down his cock. you grab his shoulders and move faster, bouncing on top of him.

you practically see white when you cream mark’s cock for the fourth time, wrapping your arms around him when your body goes limp. he gives you a few seconds to recover before thrusting into you.

you whine. “mark, i can’t.”

“don’t lie to me, baby.”

and you remember that mark’s seen you come at least seven times in one night, so he knows no feat is impossible.

he lazily fucks you to another orgasm and you let him use your body until he shoots ribbons of his cum deep inside you, groaning loudly as he empties out. he doesn’t stop until almost a minute later, giving you everything he has.

you can already feel some of his cum start to spill out but you and mark don’t care as you kiss each other gently. mark holds you close, not wanting to part from you any longer.

“what are we gonna do?” you ask him quietly.

“about what?”

you roll your eyes. “about our engagements! and the company’s merger too.”

“i’m sure mina would be more than happy to be engaged to hyunjin, and i can talk about the merger with taeyong. i’ll make it work, baby, don’t worry. how about yukhei?”

“he’s the one who told me to come to you.”

“huh,” mark hums. “maybe he isn’t that bad.”

“he isn’t! you’re just jealous,” you murmur.

“can’t help it. i love the prettiest girl alive.”

“you’re spending too much time with johnny.”

he smiles and kisses you.

“we’re going to be together, baby. i’ll make sure of it.”

—

“merci, bonne journée à toi aussi!”

the young man at the bakery smiles and waves at you as you exit. you carefully place the cake you ordered in the back of your car, making sure it’s safely tucked away before driving off.

you hum lowly to the sound of the music vibrating through the speakers. it isn’t long before you reach your apartment, quickly parking and unloading everything inside.

you get to setting the cake up immediately, lighting the candles and clearing the kitchen counter. you jump a little when you hear the familiar click of the front door.

“y/n?”

“in here!” you call, quickly holding the cake up in your hands as mark walks into the room. “happy birthday!”

he grins at you, laughing as he walks over. you sing a horrible rendition of the birthday song to him but mark loves it anyways, giving you a kiss on the lips before blowing out his candles. you cheer for him and smile, placing the cake safely back down on the counter.

“thank you, baby,” he hums, kissing your temple. “i love it.”

you and mark moved to paris shortly after reuniting. as soon as taeyong returned from his business trip, mark worked day and night to try and get the merger with mina’s family to go through. mina’s father was at first appalled by mark’s decision to leave his daughter but once he learned of mina’s own relationship with hyunjin, he agreed to keeping the merger. knowing the company was in safe hands with taeyong, mark had no qualms about leaving.

yukhei was able to successfully merge his and your family’s company without letting anyone know of your relationship problems. your last conversation with him still leaves your mind dizzy, but you’re grateful to him for everything he’s done for you.

“you don’t deserve this, xuxi. i’m sorry for not being who you wanted me to be.”

yukhei shakes his head, leaning back in the dining room chair. he knows you leave for paris tomorrow to start your new life with mark, and he doesn’t want you to feel guilty about anything.

“you have nothing to be sorry about. i’m just glad you’re finally happy. i’ve never seen you like this before.”

you smile shyly. “yeah, i guess i’m acting a little different now. i hope you could visit us in paris someday.”

he smiles. “count me in. don’t forget to add the wedding invitation.”

jaehyun was a little more reluctant on letting his baby sister run off with one of his friends to a different county. naeun was able to soothe most of his worries and your departure was one of the first times you’ve seen jaehyun cry.

it was also the first time you’ve seen him threaten mark.

now, you and mark live a peaceful life in france. given most of your inheritance was cut in half due to your strike of ‘rebellion against the family,’ mark found a small job producing music at a local recording studio and you took to practicing what little business knowledge you acquired from your parents by investing in some new homes around paris.

you were living the life you always wanted with mark, and you couldn’t be happier.

you’re interrupted from your thoughts by the feeling of mark sliding his hands up your shirt.

“i think i know what i want for my birthday present.”

you laugh and kiss him, letting the birthday boy take you the way he wants.

taglist: @suhweo, @bubudays, @ncteaxhoe, @floweringtheflowers, @keemburley, @en-see-tee, @nctandmatteblackaremyaethstetic, @oreo-cheesycake

#nct smut #nct scenarios #mark lee #mark #mark smut #mark lee smut

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arvandus · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 750. May i have Aizawa and/or Hizashi(Present Mic) headcanons?

Of course! I’m gonna go with Hizashi because I haven’t written for him before, so I think it’d be fun. :)

Hizashi x Reader (SFW & NSFW)

SFW:

🎵 Not one to shy away from his feelings; as soon as he realizes he’s crushin’ on you, he will immediately start courting you. Flirting with you at your desk, asking you out on dates, buying you little gifts, and surprising you with lunch.

🎵 Loves to take you out on fun dates. Carnivals, open-mic nights (ha ha), obscure/indie music performances at hole-in-the-wall dive bars… he’s very into the arts and loves having someone to explore them with. Not so big on the nature activities though… this man is a city guy 100%.

🎵 However, that doesn’t mean he can’t also have the occasional stay-at-home-and-veg date, either! He works a LOT, so there will be times that he’ll be tired and not want to go anywhere. His has a huge social battery though, so it’d take time for it to get to that point. And once he’s recharged, he’s back out on the town.

🎵 Favorite home activities would be watching movies with you (preferably something lighthearted) or one-on-one game nights. Will also sometimes just lounge on the couch, making up songs to make you smile. Maybe they’re sappy love songs. Maybe they’re funny songs with toilet humor lyrics. Either way, fiddling with his guitar is an excellent way for him to relax.

🎵 Loves to dote on you. Nothing makes him happier than seeing your face smile at him when he does something nice for you. He’d definitely be the type to leave little love notes on your desk and to send you random silly pictures of himself or of memes that he knows you’d enjoy.

🎵 Enjoys annoying you with silly nicknames. It’ll start off somewhat normal at first. “cutie pie,” “sweet cheeks,” etc. But it’ll just get worse and worse. “Boo,” “cuddle cakes,” “muffin,” “Sugar-baby-honey-love.” He loves when you glare at him and roll your eyes. Beware if you try to do the same to him… it’ll turn into a never-ending game of who can come up with a worse nickname for the other.

🎵 This man loves praise, both giving and receiving. It’s so validating for him. Not just because of the attention aspect, but because he desperately wants to make you happy. The surest way for him to know that he does, is for you to tell him so.

🎵 He strongly values open communication. If there’s an issue, he wants you to be able to tell him about it. He’ll do his best to work through whatever problem you two might be having.

🎵 If his extroversion and companionship starts to become too much for you, you can always tell him so. After all, his best friend is introverted, so he’s used to it. He’ll miss you, but he won’t take offense. Just make sure you reciprocate by showering him in appreciation once you’ve recharged your own batteries.

🎵 Is 1000% committed to you. Loyalty and honesty will never ever be an issue with him.

🎵 That doesn’t mean that he’ll dump all of his past trauma and stuff onto you right away, though. If anything, he might refrain from bringing up topics about himself that might be upsetting. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you with them or anything. It’s that he doesn’t want to make you feel sad, especially over things in the past that can’t be changed.

🎵 If you ask him about his past though, he’ll answer honestly. And when he’s able to open up and talk to you about it, it’ll leave him feeling relieved and so much closer to you.

🎵 I definitely see Hizashi as the type to say he wants kids, whether his own or adopted, even though he’s around them 24/7. But it’s something that’s always “in the future” for him, since he’s still enjoying his artistry, his friends, and his job.

🎵 If he ever does become a parent, he’d be such a fun dad. But he’d also be a complete sucker for his kid(s). They’d have him wrapped around his little finger. You’ll probably have to be the responsible one most of the time (unless it’s something very serious, of course.. he’ll know when to put his foot down).

🎵 If you don’t want kids, that’s okay too. Hizashi is all about flexibility and going with the flow. As a teacher, he understands the level of responsibility that comes with children and would never ever pressure his partner into it if they didn’t want it. If anything, he’d have a lot of respect for you because you’re honest and you’ve thought heavily about it. Besides, there’s plenty of other things that can be enjoyed in life that don’t involve kids. And the most important thing to him is that he’s able to do those things with you.

🎵 Would be open to a polyamorous relationship, but he’d be very responsible about it - there’d be a lot of talking and hashing out important details, like ensuring that trust is established as well as important ground rules. And once you’re in one with him, the communication wouldn’t stop. He’d always make sure to check in from time to time, and make sure that everyone is happy and getting their needs met (including himself).

NSFW:

🎵 Hizashi has zero problems with PDA (as long as you’re okay with it, of course). That won’t be limited to just kisses and hugs, though… He will thoroughly enjoy grabbing a handful of your ass and whisper dirty secrets in your ear before giving your earlobe a small nibble. He’ll be sneaky, about it though, doing these dark little deeds when no one is looking and watch as you try to save face when the other person turns back around. LOVES to see you get flustered.

🎵 He’d be a very sweet lover. He’d whisper sweet praise in your ears, cover your body in kisses. He’d be a gentleman, making sure you’re feeling your best from start to finish. 100% will always make sure you finish before he does. He will straight up worship you.

🎵 He LOVES giving oral. LOVES. IT. If you let him go down there, you better buckle up and make sure your schedule is cleared for the next few hours. He literally wants to live between your thighs. And dear GOD is he good at what he does.

🎵 Favorite position is when you ride him, preferably facing him so he can see your face. It’ll start with him leaning back against the pillows, one arm propped behind his head while the other hand rests on your waist. He likes giving you the reins, watching you work yourself on his long cock. He’ll have the most languid, serene smile on his face, his eyes drinking you in. Seeing you enjoy yourself so much only riles him up more, and at some point he’ll forgo his relaxed posture in favor of placing both hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you up and down on his hard cock. When you’re both close to unraveling, the tension wound and ready to snap, he’ll sit up from his pillows and wrap an arm around your waist and begin pounding up into you as his other arm keeps him propped up on the mattress. He’ll definitely take your nipple in his mouth during this final sprint and will cum with a groan, his breath hot against your skin.

🎵 Afterwards…? So much aftercare! There will be cuddles, pets, massages… he’ll sing to you softly, the tenor of his voice vibrating against your ear as you rest your head on his chest and his fingers stroke your hair. If it’s a particularly long session, he’ll bring you a platter of snacks and something to drink. If it’s a particularly messy session, there will be a bubble bath together (and don’t you dare doubt that he’ll have a bathtub big enough for the both of you!).

🎵 He’s definitely got a mischievous, kinky side. He’d enjoy sex in public places. Bathrooms, dressing rooms, empty hallways, stairwells… places that are mostly private but still have a risk of getting caught.

🎵 Will totally buy you lingerie to wear for him; or better yet, take you shopping (and find a way to secretly join you in the fitting room….)

🎵 Definitely has switch energy. Would enjoy being blindfolded and teased. Can absolutely be reduced to a begging, whimpering mess if you want him to be.

🎵 He trusts you completely to take care of him just as he takes care of you.

🎵 Your sex life with Hizashi will never be boring.

#Arv's 750 Followers Event #Hizashi x reader #Hizashi yamada x reader #Hizashi x reader hcs #Hizashi x reader headcanons #Present Mic x reader #present mic x reader hcs #present mic x reader headcanons #Hizashi smut #Hizashi fluff

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yan-purgatory · 4 years

Text

yandere! ateez: you’re talking to another man

request: Yandere mafia ateez reaction to seeing you with another man and being too touchy with them?

admin: ღ

warning: contains graphic content. reader discretion is advised.

Hongjoong:

(Y/N) was sighing and swirling the remnants of red wine in their glass, enjoying their peace and quiet that came with the rare moment of solitude, when they felt someone slide beside them in the booth.

“You shouldn’t be in here. This is for VIPs only.” They warned the person quietly, worried of the consequences that could come with what this man was attempting.

“I’m so out of your league I can’t even buy you a drink?” The man pressed, slinging a hand around (Y/N)’s neck and trying to catch the eye of a waitress.

“This is for your sake. Please get out of here, before he sees anything.” The man scoffed at their warning, the alcohol in his system trumping all fear.

His pride wasn’t to last long, as a hand snagged his collar and threw him to the ground before a foot pressed into his chest and several guns were held to his face.

“I need to have a talk to Mr Choi. Clearly he’s incomopetent at keeping my possessions safe.” The man of the hour, Hongjoong, seated himself next to (Y/N) who felt a shiver of fear run down their spine upon his arrival.

He pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s head before turning his attention back to the offender.

“Get rid of him. But do it out of our sight. I don’t want him near my (Y/N) for another second, understood?”

Seonghwa:

“Oh, I should get going.” (Y/N) had guts of steel, to say the least. To have an affair, behind the back of an obsessive mafia leader no less and with one of his men.

“You can’t stay any longer?” Hoseok’s arms hooked around (Y/N)’s waist, pulling them back down onto the bed as they struggled to get dressed.

“Please. I can’t risk anythi-” There was a pounding of footsteps outside the door, before a strong force knocked into it and a group of men burst in.

(Y/N) heart fell to their stomach seeing the guns pointed towards Hoseok before their attention was stolen by Seonghwa striding into the room.

“You’ve wounded me, my darling. No worries, we’ll fix this.” He pressed their face into his chest before raising his hand, silently giving the order. (Y/N) let out a scream of fear as they headr the gunshots and cry of pain.

“You don’t think I love you enough, right? That’s why you did this?” Seonghwa whispered into their ear. “Let me prove you wrong, darling.”

Yunho:

“Do you understand what you’ve done?” Tears were in (Y/N)’s eyes as the bandage applied to their finger was removed, letting the papercut bleed again. “You don’t talk to anyone else, no matter what.”

“But it was hurting, and you said that you trust Mingi-”

“You always come to me first.” Yunho interrupted them. “You know I don’t like it when you talk to other men, and I don’t care who it is.”

His grip was tightening, causing (Y/N) to wince at the pressure. Yunho ignored their pain, too red with anger. In fact, he pulled out his pocket knife with a grimace and held it up to their arm.

(Y/N) tried to struggle, but his grip was cast iron.

“You’re gonna be more hurt than before, baby. And I’ll be the one to pick up the pieces, okay?”

Yeosang:

Yeosang was waiting for them outside the lecture theatre, as always. Tapping his foot, his patience clearly having been worn thin.

It was when the clock hit quarter past four that (Y/N) finally emerged with their notes tucked under their arm.

“What took you so long?” He asked, his tone endearing but with a sharp edge.

“I’m sorry, I really need some guidance on this topic and professor Park is the expert on the topic.” (Y/N) sighed, taking his hand in their own. Yeosang didn’t smile as he usually did when (Y/N) initiated contact. His mind was plagued with the jealousy rising up - this was the third time this week they’d been late because they needed to talk with their professor.

“You seem to be struggling with this course, my love. Maybe you should drop out?” (Y/N) visibly tensed up.

“I-I-I don’t think that’s necessary-”

“You know that I’ll take care of you. Why do you need a job, when you have me?”

(Y/N) looked hesitant, but seeing the intense look in Yeosang’s eyes they knew he was not in the mood to argue, and slowly they nodded.

It was a very thankful situation that (Y/N) accepted his suggestion. His other solution to his jealousy would be much more savoury.

San:

An array of pictures were splayed out on San’s desk. Each one showing (Y/N) heinous crime of communicating with their cousin.

“You know I don’t like sharing, baby. I thought I told you not to do this.” He growled.

“I’m sorry.” San smiled, pulling them down to sit on his lap.

“I can forgive you, baby. Here.” He pressed a lighter into (Y/N)’s hand whilst pushing all the photos into his wastebin. His message was clear enough for them.

They flicked the lighter to life and held it to the photographs, watching as the film warped and crumpled.

San’s grin only grew as he peppered kisses over (Y/N)’s neck.

“That’s it, baby. And you know what will happen if I see this happen again?” They nodded, fingers still gripping the lighter so tightly that the plastic was starting to crack.

“I’ll slaughter him like a pig. I’ll set him alight and you’ll have to watch him burn to death. And it’ll be all your fault. So you won’t talk to him anymore, right?

Mingi:

There was silence in the small cafe, as everyone took in the scene. The barista, a bullet lodged in his head and blood leaking out from the wound. And Mingi, standing over the poor man with the smoking pistol still in his hand.

“Do you have their order?” His attention was diverted to the other barista, who had a coffee cup clutched in her hands that were trembling so badly the liquid was starting to spill onto her hands.

“Y-y-yes sir.” She placed it down into front of the shell-shocked (Y/N). They’d known that Mingi has savoury reactions to them talking to other men, but this was a whole other level.

“Good. We’re leaving.” Mingi snatched (Y/N)’s hand up in a huff. “I hope this coffee was worth more than that vermin’s life to you.”

He turned to address the rest of the witnesses.

“If anyone squeals, you’ll be next.”

Wooyoung:

“A beautiful angel like yourself shouldn’t be all alone in such a scary place.” A deep voice shocked (Y/N) out of their daze. Wooyoung had gone off to speak with one of his partners in private, unintentionally leaving (Y/N) all alone.

“Oh! I’m with Jung Woo Young.”

The stranger frowned, stepping closer and taking ahold of their face to admire it.

“And how did he secure such a treasure?”

“I’d appreciate it if you stepped away from my spouse, Mr Kim.” Wooyoung had returned and instantly attached himself to (Y/N)’s side. “Unless you want to be dragged away, that is.”

His eyes flickered to (Y/N).

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long, but I was thinking about you for every second of it.”

Wooyoung pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s hungrily, his gaze sliding over to stare down the other man triumphantly as he deepened it.

As soon as he broke away, he moved to whisper in (Y/N)’s ear.

“I’m not leaving your side again for even a second, baby. No one else can claim what is mine, right?”

Jongho:

(Y/N) rarely got to see family, not with Jongho breathing down their neck nearly every day of the week. Luckily, he was occupied for the day and (Y/N) had seemingly escaped the watchful gaze of his right hand man, enabling them to visit their brother for the first time in months.

All they did was take a walk in the nearby park, chatting about how life was going although (Y/N) tactfully chose to leave Jongho out of all conversations. Finally they gave their brother a hug as they said goodbye, the first time they’d done that with a man who wasn’t Jongho for goodness knows how long.

They decided to take a detour before returning home, hoping that if they had been caught sneaking out by Jongho they would have a valid excuse of buying some chocolate. But it wasn’t enough.

(Y/N) returned home, only to find the door unlocked. They let out a breath, rehearsing their lines in their head. ‘I just wanted a snack, I’m sorry.’

They found him in the kitchen. Stood above the brother they’d seen only an hour ago, tied to a chair and missing a few of his fingers.

“You thought you could pull the wool over my eyes?” Jongho growled. “You know damn well what happens to anyone who touches you without my permission.”

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yarichin-imagines · 3 years

Note

can i get some toxic relationship headcanons with each of the boys? thank you <3

YARI GOT THIS SHIT.

AYY OUR FIRST COLLAB POST — admin bii

TW: toxic relationships, jealousy, gaslighting, mindbreak (reader getting used to/happy with toxicity), dubcon, hints of yandere, etc.

toono - insecurity

Toono just can’t seem to convince himself you truly love him. It leads to him closing off and pitying himself quite a bit. He treats the relationship like something else he’s bound to fuck up, and he shouldn’t get too attached. That leads to your relationship feeling half-baked.

kashima - jealous

Kashima is not paranoid! He trusts you 100%. It's everyone else he doesn't trust. He gets a little more than hot under the collar when he starts noticing you do nothing to stop guys from buying you drinks at a club— you accept the drinks! that you apologize to the perverts who grope you when the try to slide past you on a crowded metro, and blush when you catch them staring. Steam practically pours out of his ears. He will drag you by your wrist, his grip searing hot and twisting hard against the skin -- it hurts, but he's too angry to notice now. Doesn't matter if it's at school, at a club, and it doesn't matter if it's the morning, noon or night. He'll have you against something in seconds, muttering expletives, even going so far as to threaten live's if someone has the audacity to cozy up to you right in front of him. It's unfathomable, it's like nobody can see that you so obviously belong to him. After all, you're his girl. He's the one you come home to, the only one who gets to touch you, hold you, to fuck you, to see you in every state of mind, to see you break, and to see you cum. For him. Just for him. If he wasn't such a good fuck when he's all worked up, surely you'd have had the sense to leave him, but that just isn't the case with Kashima. . .

yacchan - communication issues

Yacchan can’t communicate, but it isn’t for a lack of talking. He has built up a wall after years of being inferior, so when someone tries to push the boundaries a bit and open him up, he gets very defensive. He gets hostile and sarcastic, even in his body language, moving as if he’s preparing to fight. He just can’t handle criticism because he’s been given so much shit through his life, he interprets criticism as hate and feels a need to defend himself. He doesn’t want to let anyone break down his walls that he has spent so long putting up to protect himself.

Shikatani - perfectionist

Shika doesn’t want anything to happen if he doesn’t know it’ll go exactly as he planned. All the dates need to go perfect or it ends with him in tears because he ‘fucked it all up’. Even if the mess up ends in you two having an equally great time, he can’t get over how it didn’t go perfectly. This also sort of plays into a lack of communication as he doesn’t want to bring up things that could cause arguments.

akemi - gaslighting

To be honest, it gets a little fuzzy trying to remember what life was like before Keiichi Akemi.

“Why worry about it?” he would always say. “I’ll take care of everything. Just don’t think about it, ‘kay?”

How could you refuse a life planned out for you down to the tee? Schedules were structure, and without structure, you’d definitely fall apart.

“What would you do without me?”

Please don’t leave me!

“If you don’t exercise, you’ll get fat again, like before. You don’t want to be fat again right?”

You’re right! I’m sorry!

“I’m only doing this because I love you, ya know.”

You don’t remember before, but you do know that nobody has ever loved you the way Akemi does now, nobody else loves you as much as Akemi does now.

And nobody ever will.

itome - lack of communication

While Yacchan and Shikatani have their own communication issues, Itome doesn’t communicate at all, mostly due to his crippling insecurity. He is silent most of the time, always defaulting to whatever you want to do. He just hopes that you won’t leave if he agrees to do what you want all the time. He gets so scared of losing you, he’ll end up crying late at night. If you notice and ask him what’s wrong, he violently insists he’s fine and nothing’s wrong. “It’s fine” is a catchphrase of his. This leads to a relationship in a stalemate where neither of you know if the other is genuinely happy.

yuri - disrespect (being late, “forgetting” events, unsupportive)

When it was three minutes past your reservation, you didn’t even notice. You weren’t even bothered when he forgot about your recital banquet, after all, he probably just got tied up with club logistics, a vice president does have a lot of responsibilities.

He never really saw the point of your artwork, but what was one opinion out of many? After all, yours was the one that mattered. Right?

At least he was looking at it, although, for extended periods at a time, with a puzzled expression, that would morph into a frustrated confusion before it transformed into complete disgust.

But so what?

Soon, he was a half hour late to reservations, an hour when the days were really bad. He started blowing off your showcases. And when you found the card you’d designed yourself for his birthday in the trash? Or overheard him describing your art as “kiddy! kiddy! ugly?” What were you supposed to do?

Flowers and orgasms were fine and dandy of course, but every anniversary forgotten and every piece you found hidden in a closet was just another knife to your chest, albeit a warning that went in one ear and out another.

tamura - controlling

"Absolutely not."

It has to be the tenth outfit you've presented for your boyfriend's approval, and despite your opaque tights (an improvement over the lace ones the last few 'fits) the dress is "still too short." If not the dress nor the tights, the heels are "too alluring" and your makeup is "too provocative."

Tamura takes it upon himself to pick your outfit and makeup, and unless you're putting on his own personal burlesque show, chances are the colors are neutral or non-flattering and the makeup is almost completely natural, truly.

Sometimes it's nice not having to worry, knowing you can sleep in a little later because your boyfriend has planned out your daily look and perfectly portioned your breakfast and lunchbox. Then there’s the rest of the times, when you have to time out your trips to the mall so that you come home when Tamura is out and hide your shopping bags in your car. But all of it’s no use.

He’s one step ahead of you every time. He has pictures of your gas meter daily, he tracks your location, and eventually, he takes you everywhere you go and sets a curfew.

If you post a picture with a guy on your socials, he wants the receipts, he wants the goddamn family tree proving that the schmuck’s your first cousin, or else. Or else, being that he shuts down your socials, happens anyway of course.

You get used to it. You don’t get to decide anymore, he decides for you, when you wake up, eat, cum, and what you wear, what you know, what you think and isn’t that just sweet?

jimmy - stalking

This one is kind of obvious. Jimmy HAS to know where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with, and when you’ll be back. He can be found following you places or looking through your things. Though, when he finds out these things, he doesn’t get angry. He just broods and pities himself for a long time. He ends up making you feel obligated to tell him everything, and there’s always something that makes him upset about it.

#yarichin b club #yui tamura #itsuki shikatani #koshiro itome #yuri ayato #keiichi akemi #takashi toono #tooru fujisaki #kyousuke yaguchi #yuu kashima #tw: gaslighting #tw: mindbreak #tw: dubcon #tw: yandere #tw: toxic relationship

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works-of-fanfiction · 3 years

Text

Together - 90s!Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: Graham takes care of the reader after a particularly hard couple of weeks.

Warnings: Literally none - straight up, good old-fashioned fluff.

Word Count: 2.8k

Side Note: I haven’t written since 2019 or something like that, so forgive me if this isn’t the best!

————-

Sometimes you wonder whether your job is actually worth the exhaustion - your hand comes up to turn out the office light, exactly two hours and seventeen minutes later than you’d expected. Maybe it’s too much to ask for the work day to end at your contracted time. You scoff at yourself at the sheer thought, like your managers would ever treat you like a human being.

The tube ride home feels longer than usual, and you’re completely unable to focus on the book balanced in your lap. You’d always tried to be one of those leave work at work people - ‘don’t take your work home with you’ everyone says… but it’s impossible. You were good at your job, no doubt about that, but that came with the downside of being taken advantage of. People aren’t going to do their own dirty work when the overachiever down the corridor can do it for them. Though, how could you ever refuse? Why would you risk saying ‘no’?

Swinging the apartment door open, you drop your bag onto the ground and nudge it further to the side with your foot. Your loud entrance does not go unnoticed by your droopy-eyed boyfriend sprawled on the armchair. The first thing you feel when you see him is guilt. You don’t want to be the reason he forces himself to stay awake. You don’t want to be so fragile that he feels he can’t go to bed without seeing you first to make sure you’re alright. Once he catches sight of you, a weak smile spreads across his lips as he drags himself to his feet and shuffles over to where you’re standing. You paste a fake smile onto your face, hoping you can lie and pretend you had a good day so he can finally get some sleep.

“Hey sweetheart.” Graham mumbles, holding out his arms for you to fall into. You do just that, your head sinking onto his shoulder, inhaling his scent like it’s the last chance you’ll get. He holds you tightly in the doorway, supporting your body weight as you limply cling onto him. You claw at the back of his shirt, gathering the fabric between your fingers as if he could slip away any moment and disappear. His only response to this is to squeeze you as his chin rests on your head. “Hard day?” He finally asks, separating the two of you and holding you at arms length.

You don’t want to be a burden and you’d already come home from work two nights out of five this week feeling like this. You begin to shake your head, hoping that the lie will be easier to tell if you don’t speak, but as you stare into Graham’s eyes, you know he doesn’t buy it. The look on his face is all too familiar; he can read you like a book and he knows damn well that you’re not OK. Your head shake slowly evolves into a nod, and you don’t hold back the first sob that leaves your lips. Graham immediately catches you in his grasp again, holding you as you cry into his chest. He doesn’t waste time trying to find the right words to say to you because he knows that’s not what you need. You don’t need a soppy, motivational speech or a string of “it’s okay”s. Instead, you’re comforted by the beating of Graham’s heart and the warmth from his body as he carefully steps back and begins to guide you into the living room. You stand up straight and slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together in that perfect way that just feels right. No matter where you are, as long as your hand finds his, you know you’re safe and that everything is going to be alright.

As you go to sit down, Graham stops you and helps slide your coat off of your shoulders. You sniffle, quietly thanking him as he tosses it over the back of the armchair. You sink onto the sofa, the throw blanket from the back already slipping off and bunching up behind you. You adjust, your fingers pinching at the stray hairs sticking to your tear-stained cheeks. All you can do is stare at your feet, your eyes tracing the triangular patterns on your socks - Graham’s socks that you’d put on in a hurry that morning. The extra bit of fabric hanging off the tip of your toes makes that evident. You’re too focused on the ground beneath you to hear Graham go into the kitchen.

He boils the kettle, reaching into the very back of the cupboard to find your favourite mug - a round cream-coloured cup with a black cat’s face painted onto it, wearing a pair of red glasses. He’d bought it for you in Camden as a silly little gift, but you fell in love with it the moment you saw it and have treasured it ever since. Though you barely use it, as you can’t trust your own clumsiness and you’re too scared you’ll break it.

Graham makes your tea just the way you like it and carefully carries it into the living room. He remembers to bring the half-eaten packet of custard creams with him too. He’s not sure you’ll want them, but he usually sneakily dips one into your tea when you’re not looking so they won’t entirely go to waste. With one hand, he pushes all the clutter on the coffee table to one side, and places the cup down in front of you with the cat facing in your direction. You look up, a small smile on your face as you spot the mug. Graham squeezes through the gap between your knees and the coffee table to sit down beside you.

“That was the last teabag, so drink up.” He gently teases, pointing at the cup. A small exhale of air from your nose is all you can muster to show your amusement as you reach forward and take a slow sip. It’s perfect, and that feeling of sad happiness washes over you. You’re happy to have Graham; happy that he’s there for you and happy that he remembers your particular taste in hot drinks. Who else would know that one sugar is not enough but two is too much? Who else would measure one and a half teaspoons and make sure it’s stirred in completely?

But the sadness still remains. You’re sad that he’s making the tea to try and cheer you up; sad that he’s used the last teabag and he’s going without a drink of his own. You’re sad that he’s sat here watching you cry one time too many.

It’s silent for a while. It’s clear he’s waiting for you to speak first but you’re not sure what to say. You feel like you’ve said everything a thousand times already, and the last thing you want is to be the broken record constantly spinning in the room.

You gulp down half of your tea before putting the mug back on the table. You turn to face Graham who scoots forward, eager to be there for you and ready to listen. He sits cross-legged, his sleeves rolled down to cover his hands with just his fingertips poking out. Your own fingers pick at a stray piece of thread hanging from the hem of your shirt, wrapping it around your forefinger then unwrapping it over and over. “I really really don’t like that place, Graham.” You whisper, part of you not wanting to hear your own admission. You’d fought hard for that job and were ashamed and embarrassed that it hadn’t gone the way you’d planned. Graham nods in understanding, moving closer to you to wrap an arm around you. He pulls you into him, your head resting on his shoulder as he rubs your back lovingly.

”I know, love.” He presses a kiss to your temple, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. Just having him beside you and feeling his touch is enough to calm the heavy beating of your heart and steady the shaking of your knees. “But hey, it’s Friday night which means tomorrow is Saturday. We have the entire weekend to do whatever we want! The entire weekend to not think about work for a single second.” He encourages, standing up and holding his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You reach over to grab your mug and quickly finish the rest of your drink. You grab a biscuit and bite half of it, feeding the other half to Graham. Crumbs fall from his mouth and he tries to catch them in his other hand but fails. You smile sadly, the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, before taking his hand and letting him lead you to your bedroom. He sits you on the bed and grabs a fresh towel from the wardrobe. “First, let’s wash off the day, hmm?” He smiles and you nod in response. He leans over and kisses your forehead, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the bathroom to run a bubble bath. He fills it with your favourite coconut-scented bubbles and fumbles around in his pocket to find his lighter to ignite the candle on the windowsill. It’s almost completely melted away, but he’s certain there’s enough there for it to stay lit for tonight.

He hangs the towel over the radiator to warm it up and tests the water before calling you in. You shiver as you shuffle past Graham, then lower yourself into the water. You hiss at the heat at first, but you’re soon submerged and used to it. You look over to Graham who’s knelt on the floor beside you. “Aren’t you getting in?” You ask, lying down and covering yourself with the bubbles. He shakes his head, rolling his sleeves up and pushing his glasses onto the top of his head.

“This is for you, love. You deserve to relax.” He reaches into the bath and strokes your shoulder softly. He spots a hair tie on the counter and grabs it, then stands and leans over to help tie your hair back. He scrunches it all together and ties it into a messy bun on the top of your head. It doesn’t look the best but it does the job. You look at him and smile, grabbing his arm and giving it a loving squeeze. In that moment, all you can think about is how lucky you are to have Graham. Even something as simple as him tying your hair up makes your heart swell. You wish you could stay in this room with him forever and never face any responsibilities.

You sit up to grab the soap but he beats you to it, the sponge in his other hand. “What did I say about relaxing?” He starts, eyebrows raised. “Let me.”

“Graham, you don’t have t - “

“I want to.” He cuts you off, dipping the sponge into the water and rubbing it together with the soap. You lie back down and he slowly starts to wash you, leaning over the bathtub to reach your legs. You watch as the water spills over the side a little and dampens his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind. His fingertips lightly brush your thigh and you flinch as it tickles you. Graham laughs, doing it again on purpose until you’re practically kicking your feet like a paddling dog.

“Graham!” You squeal, grabbing his wrist and using all your strength to stop him. He splashes you in the face and you splash him back, just missing him as he ducks out of the way.

“You’re going to be the one cleaning that up later.” He jokes, gesturing to the small puddle behind him. You cover your mouth with your hand, laughing quietly as he shakes his head and continues his path up your body with the sponge. He’s gentle throughout, making sure not to scrub too harshly. You move so he can wash your back last, before he wrings out the sponge and places it back on the edge of the tub. “All clean.” He smiles, drying his hands on his jeans. You lie back, not wanting to get out just yet.

“Tell me about your day Graham, tell me something good.” You say, closing your eyes and letting the bubbles cover you again, or what’s left of them at least. He pushes his glasses back onto his face and ruffles his hair, sitting against the door with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“We rehearsed a couple songs today. We didn’t get through the whole setlist as Dave wasn’t feeling too well, and what can we do without the drummer, eh?” You keep your eyes closed as you listen to Graham talk. You could listen to him talk about music and the band for hours. You’re unbelievably proud of him and you know you’ll never get tired of hearing about every new song, music video or ridiculous lyric Damon has come out with. “Alex bought everyone lunch which was nice. Damon thought he’d broken something and was trying to butter us up or bribe us with the food!” He laughs, the sound so infectious that you can’t help but laugh with him.

“Was he bribing you?” You ask, opening your eyes and looking over at him. Butterflies dance inside your stomach as you admire Graham under the glaring white light above his head. Even in poor bathroom lighting he’s still the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. His sleeves are still rolled up to his elbows and you can see little pen scribbles on one of his arms, most likely rushed notes from rehearsal. He never did allow himself the time to just find a piece of paper. His hair is sticking out a little at the front, probably from where his glasses were sitting previously. His cheeks are a rosy pink colour, as are yours, caused by the humidity in the room.

“Nope! He was just being nice.” He grins, standing to grab the towel from the radiator. He holds it out for you and you get up, quickly getting out and wrapping yourself in it. You mentally praise his genius for leaving it on the radiator, thankful for how warm it is. It’s exactly what you need, especially on a cold night in the middle of February.

He leads you back into the bedroom and runs over to close the window to keep you warm. “Alright, pyjamas or - “

”Can I have one of your shirts?” You interrupt, looking towards his set of drawers in the corner. “I don’t want the one you’re wearing, you’re all… soggy.”

He laughs at your choice of words before rummaging through his middle drawer to find the right shirt. He tosses it over to you and it’s one of your favourites; red, long-sleeved and fleecy on the inside. You slide it on with your usual stripy pyjama pants and let your hair down. Graham strips off and takes your laundry into the bathroom to put into the basket. Whilst there, he roughly dries the floor and blows out the candle. He then does a quick scan of the apartment to make sure everything is switched off and the door is locked properly before getting into bed with you.

It pours with rain outside but you love the sound against the windows. Graham hoists himself up against the bed frame and you lay your head on his chest, throwing your left arm over him. Both of your legs wrap around one of his and he keeps you close with his arm around your back. “So, what do you want to do tomorrow?” He asks, his hand drifting upwards to play with the ends of your hair.

“Can we go to Covent Garden and get cinnamon waffles and ice cream?” He chuckles at your response and the specificity of it.

“Ice cream in this weather?”

You nod, your hair tickling his bare chest. He pulls you in closer and adjusts the blanket so you’re covered properly. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He kisses your head, and you sit up a little to face him. You stretch upwards to kiss him, his hand staying in your hair as he kisses back. You can still taste the sugar from the biscuits on his lips, and you smile into the kiss before lying back down and closing your eyes. You both whisper “I love you”s before you press one last kiss on his shoulder. Graham’s soft breathing coupled with the rain outside begins to lull you to sleep. He stays awake, stroking your hair and watching your feet fidget beneath the covers.

“You don’t have to go back to that job next week. I’ve got things covered until something else comes along.” He whispers, and you barely register his words as you hum in response and nuzzle your head into his chest. In that moment, everything feels OK and Graham knows that as long as you’re together and you have each other, that nothing can bring either of you down for too long. Once your breathing evens out, he closes his own eyes, but not without telling you how lucky he is beforehand. You’re not awake to hear it, but that doesn’t matter.

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #blur #graham coxon oneshot

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie.

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand.

“He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills.

“Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

“Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

“I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

“What?” Mike frowns. How even…

“It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

“Why was I—”

“We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb.

He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code.

The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment.

He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while.

Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him.

He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting."

Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her.

He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough.

So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up.

Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it.

Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it.

Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time.

Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them.

One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine.

Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban.

There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off.

So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time.

He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person.

Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes.

Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks.

He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face.

You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him.

Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it.

He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is.

"Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

"It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

"Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way.

Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

"Who's going?"

The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

"Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be.

"Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

"Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

"You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

"Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles.

"Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch.

He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

Mike ends up going.

After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius.

Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

"Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch.

"I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

"Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes.

Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'?

"Man, fuck off."

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of.

"Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles.

Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

"If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs.

Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party.

They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight.

High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room.

It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil.

He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike.

Good.

Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date.

He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor.

Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be.

Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

"Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him.

"Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in.

"Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle.

"You know what."

Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry?

Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here.

It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity.

Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard.

Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones.

Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach.

If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg.

Not together his ass.

When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while.

He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away.

Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it..

He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it.

But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts.

It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late.

There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

“It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

"Literally what did I just say?"

"If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

"Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

"That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

"I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

"If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

"Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying.

"I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly.

You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

"Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

"You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

"I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

"Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

"Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?"

"No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing.

So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did?

Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him.

And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay."

Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment.

"What time is it?" You speak into his shirt.

"About eleven thirty."

You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

But nothing.

You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it.

"Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to.

"Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard.

You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike.

"Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me.

"Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

"I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around.

Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down.

"I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before.

You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand.

"That's not what I meant."

It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited.

"If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition.

Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

"You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?"

His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind.

"Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before.

"Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike."

There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly.

"And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should.

Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs.

"You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch.

"Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching.

"Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

"That's fucked up," you somehow manage.

Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time).

You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different.

His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike.

It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place.

You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for.

Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car.

He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

Dude obviously likes to be slapped around.

There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith.

You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?"

"I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

"See what?"

"You and me—"

"You and I," he corrects, and you shove him.

"You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

"Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

"That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

"Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

"Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?"

He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly.

"You caaare about meee."

He scoffs and looks away

"Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

"Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

"I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?"

He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?"

"Absolutely. Hundred percent."

"You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing.

Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you.

"You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

"Wow, fuck you."

"That's the idea," he smirks.

"Har fucking har. You're so funny."

Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?"

"Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

"Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point.

Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction.

"Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Sounds like a challenge to me."

"Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin.

This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive.

"Stop making that face."

"What face?"

"That—that—"

You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back.

"What face, hm?"

The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down.

Damn. He's good at this.

"Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off.

He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants.

You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future.

Maddening. He's maddening.

You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him.

"I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath.

"It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

"A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

"Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it.

"Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?"

You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once.

Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle.

He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

“Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face.

You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen.

“Feel better yet?” He smirks.

You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees.

If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it.

He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink.

“I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck, fuck—”

His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

That’s not important.

Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

“Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths.

You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out.

“Want me to wear a condom?”

“I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away.

“Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you.

“Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him.

He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders.

He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time.

Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?”

“Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

“Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed.

You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

“Shit, shit, shit—”

Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep.

He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean.

You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them.

Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type.

Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction.

Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

“Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length.

You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows.

Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other.

He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out.

Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

“Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice.

You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss.

He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike.

Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

“I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now.

Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

“I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight.

“Fuck—shit—”

That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching.

With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree.

The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened.

Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

“I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess.

“Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed.

“It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.

You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

“Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug.

“I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around.

You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair.

You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly.

“M-Mike?”

All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do.

“Are you drunk again?”

“No. Little buzzed.”

Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

"What?"

"Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable.

"Mike?"

"I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy.

But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at.

For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster.

“Why have you been lying to me?”

And, there’s that drop.

You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

“Bullshit.”

“Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back.

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?”

You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other.

“I… I’m sorry.”

Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry.

“I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over.

Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn.

“Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

“Why does it matter?”

You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself.

Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

“Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

“I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.

The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

“Wh-what d’you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

“Mike…”

“No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

“I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it.

So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop.

“I have been�� Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking.

“Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

“Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

“Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option.

“Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

“That I’m not good enough.”

Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

“Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet.

Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter.

Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful.

His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

“I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you.

Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

“I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you.

“Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse.

“I won’t bother you.”

“Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things.

You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares.

True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two.

He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room.

Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause.

Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his.

It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you.

That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall.

Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend.

It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it.

He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side.

But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic

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