#first time being put to sleep too i wasn’t scared for that it
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Alone in Wano - 1 / 2
A/N: it's been an eternity since I posted a fanfic here & I deleted the last one I posted here because I was too self conscious so words can't fathom how much I'm nervous right now lmao. No much content warnings but contain Wano spoilers, canon violence & also apparently it makes people cry. thanks @a-killer-obsession for beta reading, & @wyvernslovecake for letting me play dolls with Shriek ♥
One month.
29 days.
690 hours or so.
Nina sighed, grunting as the baby kicks in her belly kept her from sleeping. She tried to change position in the uncomfortable futon discarded on the ground, to relieve the pressure her womb was applying on her guts - without any effect. She closed her eyes, and, as usual, images of what happened flashed in front of her eyes. Kaido falling in the ground at Ozzy’s birthday party, Kid refusing to submit, the beast pirates destroying the castle and locking everyone in the jails of their ships, sending them to Wano. Quincy, Heat, Wire, Hip, Papas…Thanks to gods, she didn’t see Shriek in the cramped cells. She must have locked herself in her room, just like Nina asked. She silently prayed for her safety and rolled on her back again, looking at the ceiling.
She hadn’t felt this lonely for a long time. Not since she joined the Kid pirates, in fact. She almost managed to believe that life was going to be ok, she almost touched that peace from the tip of her fingers, but Kaido took everything away from her. Nina rubbed her eyes, trying to chase the tears that threatened to flow on her cheeks. One month without Killer tenderly spooning her in her sleep. 29 days without Kid playfully grabbing her ass while passing by in the morning. 690 hours, or so, without passing her fingers through the soft fur of Shriek to untangle it.
"MAMAAAAAAA"
Ozzy’s tears took her out of her reverie. She sat up in the futon, and took the toddler on her lap, before opening her kimono to allow him to latch on her breast and take some milk. She passed her hand through her son’s pink hair, looking down at him tenderly. At least, Kaido didn’t separate them. She was so scared at first, when he discarded them to Orochi, saying that a pregnant chick and a toddler was no use for him. Nina wasn’t strong, she didn’t have any power, she didn’t have haki, and without her chainsaw, the only thing she could do to protect her heir would have been to run and sink her teeth into whatever neck presented to her. Thankfully, Komurasaki seemed to have pity for them and asked Orochi to keep her and Ozzy in her court, which Orochi accepted. Not that he seemed to be able to refuse anything to Komurasaki, though. Nina and Komurasaki immediately understood each other on this - Nina, too, had to pretend to like men for her safety in the past. And staying near the shogun, she could maybe learn a thing or two about Kid or Killer’s fate. Ozzy finished eating and she hugged him tight, seeking comfort in the scent of his hair. God, she missed her lovers so much. Ever since he helped her sober up, she had never been separated from Killer for this long. And as much as it cost her to admit, she missed Kid just as much. After years of being used and tossed away, she finally had a home, a family. She just wanted them back.
Loud screams coming from Orochi's banquet dragged her out of her spiraling. She put back her breast in her kimono and held Ozzy close to her chest, mother instinct going full mode as a little girl with a big grin and pink hair ran to her, crying, holding her close as to seek reassurance in her arms.
“Toko… ?”
Nina bent down and managed with some effort to take Toko under the arm that wasn’t holding Ozzy, finding, by some miracle, space for the little girl, the toddler, and her big round belly.
“Toko… what happened?”
Toko looked up at her, unable to answer, her breath cut by a burst of laughter. Nina bit her lip to restrain any reaction that could hurt the girl’s sensibility. Even if Komurasaki explained to her the whole shit about SMILE and its effects, she still needed to process that Toko could have a big grin or laugh, but still be sad, angry or scared. One thing for sure, the more she learned about Kaido, the more she wanted him dead.
As she was about to question Toko again, Komurasaki and Kyoshiro barged in the room. Nina's eyes went wide open and she stood up as she saw the blood on Komurasaki's clothes.
“The hell?” she asked.
Komurasaki seemed to do great, though, and she walked in with a hurry to take Toko in her arms after changing into a discreet, more modest robe than her usual attire and throwing her jewelry on the ground. Nina turned an inquisitive glance to Kyoshiro who frowned at her.
“No time to explain. All of you need to leave the castle.”
“But…”
“NOW!”
Nina frowned, sensing the urge in Kyoshiro’s voice. She nodded and, holding Ozzy close to her chest, she followed Komurasaki and Toko through a secret escape.
One month.
31 days.
738 hours or so.
Nina’s eyes didn’t leave the hearth, fire crackling and flames casting a warm light through the little wood shed. Toko was sleeping peacefully next to her, holding Ozzy against her, her permanent grin not leaving her face. Nina looked up at the green haired woman sitting across her, a protective hand on her belly.
“So what do I have to call you now?” Nina asked.
“Hiyori.”
Nina studied her face. When they arrived at the secret hideout, Hiyori explained everything to her. How she was actually Oden’s daughter. How she was born on the Oro Jackson, a long time ago. How she had to watch her little brother jump forward in the future thanks to some time travel devil fruit, while her mother was dying in the flames. How a plan to take down Orochi and Kaido was in place, silently building in the shadows for the past 26 years. Once again, Nina met her eyes and a silent comprehension passed between the two women. They both experienced what true loneliness was, they both saw the ugliest face of men. At this exact moment, Nina understood why Hiyori took care of her. Seeing her alone with her baby, pregnant with the second, must have reminded her of her own family.
“That’s not everything.��� Hiyori said, a serious glance on her face. She bent aside and grabbed a newspaper on the ground before giving it to Nina.
Nina frowned and took the journal, and her eyes went wide in shock as she read. The news was about a pirate captain sent to Udon jail, and even if the picture below was only an ink drawing, she couldn’t help the tears flooding down her cheeks when she recognized Kid.
“I need to go there.”
“Nina…” Hiyori started to sigh, but Nina cut her off.
“No, you don’t understand!”
She looked at Ozzy, still peacefully asleep in Toko’s arms, occasionally twitching in his sleep.
“His father… Ozzy’s father. One of them. He’s maybe there, I can’t-”
“Nina.”
Hiyori's tone was stern now, and Nina sighed, knowing already where the conversation was landing. Since Hiyori saved her, they had it on a daily basis. Nina sat down, putting a hand on her belly.
“I know, I know. I’m pregnant. I have to be careful.”
Hiyori smiled softly, looking up at her with her big, soft eyes, and Nina smiled back. Both women looked at the fire in silence for a moment.
“I hope they’re doing fine.” Nina whispered, caressing her belly softly, where her little one was giving high kicks again. “I can’t live without them.” She cursed herself mentally for being so sappy.
When did she become so sensitive? After the whole Perona disaster, she thought she was done with romantic bullshit. She was a tough girl, picking up fights in bars and sailing alone, surviving out of thieving and brawlings. She sailed for months, years maybe even, alone, and she held herself alone, even if she had to rely on drugs or sell her body to keep on going. But destiny made her cross paths with Kid pirates, and Killer saved her, and she allowed herself to fall in love again, and then she fell for Kid as well, and the crew adopted her, and she adopted them. And then there were the children, and soon she was surrounded by more tenderness and affection than she could handle. She wiped her tears. Fucking mood swings.
Hiyori seemed to notice her demeanor change, because she moved ever so slightly to wrap an arm around her shoulders, slowly comforting her.
“They’re alive. I would have heard of it if they were dead,” She whispered. Nina nodded, nuzzling against Hiyori's shoulder, closing her eyes.
“I hope so.”
Nina woke up the next morning, snuggled against Hiyori. She sighed in relief. It was good to feel the warmth of another human being again - well, an adult one. With regret, she withdrew herself from the green haired woman's embrace. She stood up and took Ozzy in her arms, cradling him tenderly. Behind her, the fire was dying slowly. It was cold outside, they would need to light another one, and there was no more dry wood left. She wrapped Ozzy in his carrier and tied it on her back. Hiyori would scold her for not resting but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to feel like a burden. She didn't want to feel useless. Hiyori had saved their life, the least she could do was to ensure her a warm room to wake up in. She walked out of the small cabin and closed the door behind her.
Nina was out in the snow, gathering some dry wood, when a deafening scream pierced the ambient silence. She jolted her head as she recognized Hiyori's voice. Without thinking, she put Ozzy in safety next to the wood carrier, wrapping her vest around him to keep him warm and safe, and ran to Hiyori as fast as her round belly allowed her to.
Her mind went blank at the scene she was witnessing.
Hiyori was hidden behind a green haired samurai who looked a bit like the mugiwara sword guy… Roronoa? She was shaking, terrified, holding Toko close in her arms. And in front of them…
This laugh.
This blonde mane.
Those icy blue eyes.
Nina eyes went wide and without thinking, she ran to them as Roronoa was about to attack.
“NO!!”
She yelled, throwing herself between Roronoa and his opponent. Hiyori screamed, but Nina couldn’t care less, her focus on the laughing figure in front of her. Tears perked at the corners of their eyes and she took a few steps forward. At this moment, Roronoa didn’t exist anymore, Hiyori didn’t exist anymore, even Ozzy was far away in her mind. The only thing that mattered for her were those beautiful icy blue eyes piercing through the bandages. So soft. So familiar. The eyes that looked at her with adoration every morning and always managed to make her feel safe.
She took a few steps forwards, wiping her eyes with a relieved chuckle.
“Killer? My lion?”
The blonde looked down at her, a grin plastered on his face. Killer didn’t usually grin without his mask, but after a month without seeing each other, he was probably happy to see her too. She took another step forward, still chuckling in relief. Killer looked down at her, immobile. She looked up at him with pure adoration and sobbed.
“Killer, I'm so…”
She froze when he suddenly arched back, letting out a loud burst of laughter. He laughed. Loudly. Killer laughed. In front of perfect strangers. In front of an opponent.
Puzzled and worried, she held a hand to caress his cheek, an attempted comforting gesture, but before she could touch his skin, she was violently thrown in the snow, kicked in her belly by the wood of his scythes. She felt an intense pain bowing her in half, then, nothing.
The last thing she saw before passing out was Killer's frame passing by her side as if she was nothing but an insect he brushed off his shoulder. The last thing she heard was his laugh fading in the distance, and then everything went black.
#one piece oc#one piece#one piece fanfiction#kid pirates#kidd pirates#hitokiri kamazo#kamazo#killer one piece#one piece killer#oc x canon#oc x cc#original character#one piece original character#chainsaw metal killer#chainsawmetalkiller#cmk#fankid#one piece fankid#one piece wano#wano spoilers#wano arc
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I saw the face of god and it’s 500mg of Ibuprofen and 600mg of extra strength Tylenol
#I was being such a baby abt my wisdom teeth#I thought I was gonna be in constant pain for days nah#altho I am getting a fever atm cuz I haven’t taken my other meds for dat#first time being put to sleep too i wasn’t scared for that it#reminded me of when I was a kid I’d be so tired as soon as my head hit the pillow I’d be out like a light#my mom didn’t help bc she kept telling me horror stories of still being somewhat lucid when u go under#n feeling them yank the teeth like see this is why I don’t like talking to her sometimes 😭#m.txt
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AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?
I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.
For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.
At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”
(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)
I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.
Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.
It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.
We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.
It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.
Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.
But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.
Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.
I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.
I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.
Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.
It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.
But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.
Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.
He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.
He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.
I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.
He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.
Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.
Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.
I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.
I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.
Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).
So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.
She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.
I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.
While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.
I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.
At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?
Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).
Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!
Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.
I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.
I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.
She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.
I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.
At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.
I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.
The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.
I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.
I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.
Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.
I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.
My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.
I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.
I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.
(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)
He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.
He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.
He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.
He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.
I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.
So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.
I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.
Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.
She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.
So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.
AITA?
----
Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)
(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)
My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!
It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"
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Calm Yandere x you
“Your expressionless boyfriend.”
Rated 18 + — mature short content!
Includes: calm yandere x talkative gender neutral reader, mutual pining?, strangers to friends to lovers, cute fluff in the beginning… other stuff later on. wink wink. ♡
Calm yandere was known to be a little cold. His default face is an unamused one, the ends of his lips always downward, and it certainly scared you away from him when you first saw him. He didn’t like to socialize as much as you did, and when you talked to him, he only seemed to nod. “Mhm,” and “uh-huh,” was all you could get from him. He didn’t hate nor dislike you— you’re an absolute perfect specimen, and a normal, and adaptable human being. You were everything he wanted to be. You were everything he wanted, period. He started to form a crush on you, and it was a minuscule one at first. He appreciated how you were able to carry a conversation, how bright and confident you looked compared to him, and you were this bright light in his grim dark reality.
Calm yandere was surprised when you made the first move. You wanted to be friends, and being just friends with you felt like torture. Although, he agreed—not wanting to miss the opportunity to be by your side even more. He followed you around, agreed to show up to all hangouts you planned, and he even invited you to his house. His house was surprisingly warm. He had soft white curtains, light pink decorations here and there, and it smelled like freshly baked cookies. Warm and sweet was what you would describe him now that you got to know him. He was the perfect host. He was showing you around the backyard, and he pointed out a couple of butterflies that liked to come by. His voice was flat and monotonous when he explained his favorite butterflies to you, but you could see a slight glimmer of happiness in his eyes. And most importantly, he showed you his bedroom. He had manga books on his shelves, Smiski figurines, and one of the compartments was just filled with snacks. He had an old dog named “Mini” that was sleeping on his huge bed, loudly snoring, and kicking her feet as she dreamt of running around.
Calm yandere had asked you to be his partner months later. You were shocked when he confessed his feelings for you, and here calm yandere was, thinking that he had done a good job of hinting at it. You did notice the glances he would send your way, and how they would linger a bit longer than before. You then started to think back to the times he would do things for you. He would bend down and tie your shoelaces. He gave you his jacket when it was raining, and he would walk home soaking wet. He carried you on his back when you tripped and hurt your ankle. He let you into his house when you fought with your parents, and tried his damn hardest to crack a worried expression on his stone-like face. It wasn’t like you weren’t into him, you tried to give him signals too.
Calm yandere was oblivious, just as you were oblivious. You had literally invited him to every place you could think of. You made pottery with him, and even put your hands on his to help him shape his clay into a vase. That was a very intimate act. An act that made you flustered and blushing when you had pressed your body behind his. Him, on the other hand, didn’t even blink at the action. When you had told him that you found him cute and adorable, he just said “okay.” OKAY?? Clearly that meant he didn’t like you back, and you quickly put on a strained smile and went on with your day.
Calm yandere was an active listener, not really a replier, but a listener. He might look like he was disinterested, but any subject you brought up was the most interesting, and fascinating, topic of all time. You would talk his ear off, and you liked to speak your mind. “So, as I was saying…” you continued. He nodded along, his cheek resting on his hand, and he leaned even closer to play with the strands of your hair. He liked feeling and touching you. It reminded him that you were real, that you were in front of him, and you were officially his. Your lips were perfect, always moving and speaking, and it would form the world’s most beautiful smile. He could tell that some days you didn’t want to hear any solutions from him, and only wanted to have someone to talk too. So, he does exactly what you want.
Calm yandere was happy to advance the relationship even further! He would show finally show some PDA. An arm would casually be slung around your shoulders while you two walked. Whenever you sat next to him, and he didn’t like the distance between you two, he would grab onto the leg of the chair and pulled it in closer. He then would kiss your cheek, and as fast as it came, he had pulled back before you could reciprocate. He knew that being a boyfriend meant that he had to do some certain things… He was feeling bold when he saw you wearing shorts, and without really thinking, his hand reached out to touch at your thighs.
Calm yandere was taken aback by the overwhelming positive reaction. He didn’t imagine that a single brush from his finger tips would cause your brain to go haywire. You had pushed him onto the couch, and he fell back with a little grunt. He saw that you had climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips, and had placed his hand on a sensitive spot of your body. He felt up the flesh, and his fingers slipped underneath your shorts. He kept a watchful eye on your facial expressions, and he hummed in delight when you spread your thighs even further for him. He rubbed his fingers up and down the length of your privates, and he started to collect some of the wet substance that had leaked out. He heard you breathe out his name, and when your voice soon became whiny and you had pleaded for more, he knew you had to be close.
Calm yandere had you on your back. He pulled your shorts down your legs, flinging them to the side after he revealed your lower half to him. He leaned down to greet your sex with his tongue. You were loud and talkative in bed, just as you were out of it. Your back arched, and your hands painfully gripped at his hair. Your body started to tremble, almost trying to squirm its way out from underneath him. His hands had to keep your legs from closing on him, “don’t try to keep me away from you.” your boyfriend said firmly. He then gestured to the growing tent in his pants, “this is all your fault. I’ll make you feel good if you can do the same for me.”
Calm yandere liked to lick his fingers in front of you. His tongue swiping at the salty cum before he fully puts his digits inside his mouth. He could feel the wrinkles and ridges of his pruned fingers, and he gleefully sucked off the excess cum and saliva that had gathered on there. You were lying on the couch with a bit of a daze, your chest rising and falling, and you could still feel his eyes wandering on the work he had done. You had love bites on your neck, trailing down to your inner thighs, and lower towards your ankles. He had bit you down there to keep his voice down while he had himself buried deep inside of you. What could he say? You knew how to press his buttons and drive him wild.
Allure: this is calm yandere after you had called him cute.
Allure: A little update: I’ll work on the master list soon after this, and I’ll have to update a couple of lists such as the yandere kink ones… so that should be done next!
#Allurilove yandere writing#calm yandere x you#male yandere#male yandere x talkative reader#male yandere x gn reader#listener x yapper reader#male yandere oc x reader#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere male oc#yandere x gn reader#calm yandere#yandere imagines#mutual pining#yandere oc#cute fluffy romance#fluff and smut#smut writing#friends to lovers#yandere smut#yandere boyfriend#strangers to friends to lovers#x gn reader#x gn y/n
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the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)
gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.
warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)
The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him.
He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with.
Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course.
Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down.
Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered.
At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy.
Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on.
You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on.
“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels.
You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up.
“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”
“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission.
You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”
“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.”
Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice.
His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”
Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”
“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).”
His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late.
He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to.
You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.
You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.
It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”
You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”
“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.
You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”
For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?”
“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to.
He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?”
You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults.
He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”
Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.
He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
It’s a vow he swears to keep.
“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”
He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise.
Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#satoru gojo#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#arranged marriage#i'm in my jjk phase bye
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in your eyes, the man that i could be |carmen berzatto x reader| part two
prompt: after carmen finds out you're staying at pete and sugar's house, he goes to try and talk to you. he's faced with his furious sister and harsh truths instead.
or part two of the devastation fic lol that is based off this ask from the other day <3
contains: angst! angst! this one is very much so more carmen focused bc let's be real... he's the problem in this one lol. still hurt with no comfort but more this one than last one?? mentions to past trauma, family trauma. sugar clears carmen in this one. slight mean carmen still, slight angry carmen still. language. dad!carmen x mom!reader. no resolution but the make up is in the next and final part! still heavy so read at your own discretion! word count- 4.8k+
Fak twisted his hands, nervously watching Carmen pace back and forth furiously. One hand running through his hair, tangled and matted from the continued motion; the other lifting and pulling the cigarette to and from his lips. Fak wasn’t sure how Carmen wasn’t sick yet. He’d never seen him smoke so much, seen anyone smoke so much.
“Neil, I’m not fuckin’ playin’ anymore, ok? You’re startin’ to really, really fuckin’ piss me off.” Carmen’s jaw ground tight, voice starting to growl with that gravelly warning shake that had Fak flinching. “You better tell me where you put my fuckin’ car keys, alright? I-I’m not sitting here, ok? I’m not gonna sit around wi-with my fuckin’ thumb up my ass like a jagoff while my wife and kid are a-at fuckin’ Sugar and Pete’s!”
“Carmy,” Fak tried to keep his voice calm and firm, like Sugar and Richie had coached him to, hyping him up before he entered the house. “I can’t give you your keys right now, becaus-”
“-Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” Carmen roared, teeth bared and eyes narrowed.
Fak didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he missed the sad Carmen from before. When he’d been sent to check on Carmen and Richie, to find out where the hell they were before Sydney had a meltdown in the kitchen, only to find a nearly hyperventilating Carmen and an unsure and frantic Richie trying to calm him. Fak had known Carmen a long time, his whole life, really, and never once had he seen him so… so sad.
That sadness was long gone now. In its wake, an anger, worse than before, than he’d ever seen or could have imagined. Fak had just tried to comfort Carmen, offer up some encouragement that you and Teddy and Anchovy were all ok, taken care of- at Pete and Sugar’s. He didn’t realize how that would flip the switch, how it would infuriate Carmen.
“I-I’m Fak.” Fak blinked, nervously. “You know me. I’m your friend, Carm, and I-I’m just trying to help you-”
“-You’re trying to help me? You’re trying to fuckin’ help me by keepin’ me away from my wife?” Carmen’s voice boomed, shaking the walls of the house.
Even in his loud rage, the house seemed too quiet, too still. There was no baby TV show on, no hum of the diffusers, or Anchovy’s small purrs and chirps. Carmen missed him, missed him jumping on the counters just to piss him off. He missed you defending him, missed how Anchovy would startle and run anytime Teddy would gurgle or whine.
God, he missed Teddy. He spent the first night in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring blankly ahead, wishing he had the small screaming bundle to rock to sleep.
Carmen couldn’t bring himself to go into the bedroom. Not again. Not after he found your ring laying there. He’d scared Richie so badly with his cries that Richie had enforced the ‘Mikey Prevention Plan’, his twisted humor of a way at keeping Carmen from being alone, from hurting himself in his misery.
“Carm, I-I can’t.” Fak stuttered, looking at the door, begging Richie or anyone, really, to walk through the door. “You know I can’t.”
“This is fucked up, Neil. You know that? You know how fucked up this is? Keepin’ me from-from Teddy? From my kid?” Carmen took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke blowing out of his nose with his panicked breathing. His hands still shook, everything was still shaky and rattling with uneasiness inside him.
“Carm, I- Don’t say that.” Fak shook his head, he could feel himself caving. Carmen could too.
“You’re keepin’ me from her, Fak. You know that? You know you-you’re keepin’ me from my daughter? My baby? Don’t you-you know how fucked up that is?” Carmen shook his head, lips pursing in disgust. “You’re lettin’ Richie boss you around like he always does, an-and you know, you know deep down that this is wrong. Keepin’ me from them is wrong.”
Fak hesitated, a nervous sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “Richie said-”
“-Richie can get fucked. Ric-Richie doesn’t know shit! He doesn’t know shit, you know he doesn’t know shit, a-and you’re lettin’ him tell you what to do? Richie?” Carmen scoffed, throwing his hands out. “The fuck does Richie know, huh? H-He’s divorced, an-an-and barely sees his kid-”
“-Hey!-” Fak’s eyes widened in shock. “Carmen, you don’t-”
“-Is that what you want? You want me to end up alone?” Carmen’s eyes are wild, crazed, but he goes still. “Y-You want me to end up like-like Richie? Li-Li-Like that?”
Fak swallows, both standing in the thick, tension filled silence. “Carmen, I-I can’t.” Fak shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I think you need to, I don’t know, I think you need to calm down before you go see them.”
“Calm down, you’re tellin’ me to calm down.” Carmen snarled, bitterly scoffing at Fak. “Fuck you. Alright? Fuck you. I will never forgive you for this shit. You hear me? You-You doin’ this to me, keepin’ me from my family. I’ll never fuckin’ forgive you.”
Fak flinched, Carmen’s words cutting brutally through him with a bitter sting. Carmen stormed off, the front door slamming with a force that sent vibrations through the house. Fak was surprised it didn’t split the wood in two. Walking towards the front window, he saw Carmen storming off, furiously lighting another cigarette, running a hand through his hair, again. Fak assumed he was out of Spirits, that he’d smoked through another pack, walking to the corner store to get more. After thirty minutes, he called Richie, frantic that he’d let Carmen loose.
“What part of Mikey Prevention Plan don’t you fuckin’ understand?” Richie sneered over the phone, trying to keep his voice low so the new hires didn’t hear. As far as they were concerned, Carmen was on a vacation, only the OGs knew the truth.
“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Fak’s voice lilted high, a shrill of nerves that had Richie’s eyes pinching in annoyance. “I thought he was going to the corner store to get more cigarettes, an-and then he didn’t come back for a while-”
“-What’s a while?” Richie muttered, catching Tina’s eye through the glass. She set her rag down quickly, walking towards him.
“I dunno… Fifteen, thirty minutes?” Fak mumbled. “Maybe closer to an hour now. B-But then I went to look for him, and he wasn’t there, so I asked the guy working and he said he hadn’t seen him, and-and now I’m driving around trying to find him. I-I’m shouting his name out the window and everything!”
“He’s not a dog, Neil, he won’t-” Richie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know where he’s at.”
“You do?” Fak perked up.
“Yeah, I mean, no, but I-I’m pretty sure I know where he’s at since you fuckin’ told him where they were stayin’.” Richie rolled his eyes bitterly. “Just- Come over here and get me, alright? Let me call Pete- God, you and this fuckin’ kid, got me callin’ Pete. You’re killin’ me Neil Jeff.”
Richie hung up the phone with a huff, looking up at Tina. “What’s goin’ on? Jeff alright? What’s he doin’?” She pressed.
“Yeah, Fak-Fak fuckin’ lost him.” Richie rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “But, I think I know where he’s at. Have a pretty good idea, anyways.”
Tina eyed Richie carefully. “Richie, you know I love that kid, you know I do. But if he’s fuckin’ with Mama,” Tina shook her head, lips pursing in fury. It was no secret how taken she was to you, even before the affectionate nickname that came with the pregnancy.
“He’s not,” Richie shook his head. “He’s stupid, hot headed, a fuckin’ baby- all that. But… C’mon, T, you and I both know he loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to them. Do somethin’ to himself before that.”
Tina paused but nodded, face softening. “So, you know where he’s at then? You don’t… You don’t think he’s gonna…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, looking at the picture of Mikey with Richie, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus only a few months before he passed. Carmen had placed it at the front, a reminder of the legacy that was there before him, of The Beef and his brother.
“No, I hope not.” Richie muttered, looking at his phone’s screen with dread, Pete’s contact on the screen gleaming back at him nearly mockingly. “I think I know where he is.” He sighed, pressing the button.
Pete could feel his phone buzzing in his pants, ignoring it as he held the front door in a white knuckled grip. He hadn’t expected to see Carmen there, on his Ring camera, knocking on the door softly, softer than he expected given his manic looking state.
“H-Hey, Carm,” Pete closed the door as casually as he could, only leaving a sliver open. “What, uh, what’s up, man?”
“Hey, Pete,” Carmen could barely meet his gaze, suddenly overly aware of how disheveled he must have looked.
“Uh, what-what brings you by?” Pete stuttered, heart picking up when he heard the soft thump behind him, Anchovy lurking behind his legs curiously. He gripped the door, shuffling his legs together, trying to close it on his frame so Anchovy wouldn’t slip by.
“C’mon,” Carmen sighed, a tired look in his eye, too exhausted to even be pleading. “You know why I’m here, alright. I-I know they’re here.”
“W-Who is? Sugar? Yeah, she-she’s off today.” Pete stiffened at the claim, swallowing nervously, trying to play it cool. Anchovy meowed loudly behind him, cringing when he was given away by the cat.
“Pete, don’t-” Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the tears that threatened to fall. He could hear Anchovy, hear the sounds of the house- the home. Soft child shows, the hum of the dryer, all the things that made the house feel alive. Carmen would give anything to have his home sound like that again, the silence was beginning to drive him crazy.
“Where is she?” Carmen looks up, his gaze much harder than before, a frantic look beginning to take over his sadness.
“I, uh, I-I don’t-” Pete stutters, fingers tapping on the wood of the door anxiously.
“-Pete, I really don’t want you to fuck with me right now, alright?” Carmen takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his emotions that were already beginning to climb in his throat again. “I need to- I-I need to see her, Pete.” Carmen couldn’t bring himself to say your name, sure even the first syllable would have him in tears, breaking down on the front porch.
Another meow, louder than before, came before Pete could answer. The soft scratching of Anchovy’s paws on the door, a demanding meow that Carmen knew all too well. He’d learned to drown it out, or try to. It became nearly a soundtrack to your sex life when you’d first gotten the cat, locking him out of the room so you two could fuck, only for him to yowl and scratch and demand to be let in. Carmen could remember how you’d giggle, pouting at him exaggeratedly to let him in. His heart fell with an ache that was warm yet still made him feel sick.
Pete looked down at the cat, then back at Carmen, a hesitant grimace on his face. “Carm… You-You know I would,” He started. Carmen’s heart soared with hope, eyes wide, a near adrenaline rush of excitement shooting through his system. “But…You know I can’t.”
Carmen’s heart crashed, shattered with the hope he’d finally begun to find, to feel again. “What the fuc- Pete, that’s… Pete, c’mon. C’mon. Yo-You gotta let me in. Let me in.” Anger surged through Carmen’s chest. He closed his eyes tight and tried to swallow it down. All he’d been is angry. For weeks now, it had been a never ending cycle of anger and sickness and distraught, all amplified to new heights the second you left.
Carmen could feel himself spiraling, ears starting to ring again, rushing and roaring flashbacks flooding into his mind. Your face when you left, Teddy’s cries, the critic’s pursed lips, Sydney’s disappointed face when he forgot something again, Tina’s eyes cutting. Carmen turned, shaking his hand lightly, trying to do a breathing exercise he saw on YouTube, years ago when he’d moved to New York.
His breaths were deep, shaky, but deep enough that it cleared his head, dulled the ringing. His mind wandered back, Richie’s voice ringing in his head. “You wanna get her back? Quit actin’ like a goddam baby. Quit actin’ like this isn’t your own fuckin’ fault. Like you didn’t do this shit to yourself, Cousin. Take some fuckin’ accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin’ shit together, alright? And maybe-maybe you’ll get your family back.” Richie’s voice rang clear through his mind from a few nights ago, when Carmen was especially mean and awful.
“Hey, uh, you alright?” Pete hesitated, leaning towards Carmen, his grip on the door loosening.
Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before he turned back towards Pete, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. “Pete, please? Please?” Carmen begged, voice soft, cracking at the end. “Please, jus-just let me see her? L-Let me talk to her? Just- Let me tell her tha-that I’m sorry. Please… I need to tell her I-I’m sorry. Don’t-”
“-Carmen?” Sugar gaped, her voice coming from behind Pete. She pulled the door open, shocked gaze dropping into furious, jaw setting in a near snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed.
“Why do you think I’m here, Natalie? Huh?” Carmen snapped in anger, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
“Oh, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Natalie snapped back, pulling the door open and stepping out on the porch. She stood in front of her younger brother, arms crossed in a standoff.
“Pete, go inside.” Sugar sneered, her gaze not moving from Carmen’s. She felt like they were children again, having a staring contest to see who got the last piece of gum from Donna’s purse, only this time, it was for worse.
“Nat, I-”
“-I got it.” Natalie said firmly. Pete didn’t argue with her, simply nodding, shutting the door softly behind them. Her eyes held Carmen’s gaze, both of them intense, furious at the other for other reasons.
“You should be ashamed of yourself-”
“-I am-”
“-Mortified.” Sugar sneered, giving him a disgusted shake of her head. Carmen shifted, biting his own tongue to keep it from lashing out at her. “Do you know what I came home to the other night? You want me to tell you?-”
“-No, I know-”
“-No, I’m going to tell you.” Natalie snapped. “I came home after a very long shift because our head chef decided to, oh, I don’t know- disappear and go on a psychotic rampage apparently.” Natalie scoffed sarcastically.
“And I walk through the door, ready for bed. Maybe a glass of wine, maybe a bath, maybe to finally catch up on my shows with my husband; and you know what I found instead?” Sugar took a step towards Carmen, intimidating him with her harsh glare. “I find my husband taking care of your baby because your wife is sobbing-”
“-Don’t-”
“-No, no. I mean, sobbing. A total broken mess on my kitchen table, because she said you,” Sugar jabbed a finger at Carmen. “Decided to come home and scream at her. Not only scream, but say some of the most volatile, disgusting things I’ve ever fucking heard in my life to your wife, the mother of your very much so still a newborn baby.”
Carmen felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over him, swallowing back spit that pooled in his mouth with a cry that threatened to fall from his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to look at her gaze anymore. It felt too judgemental, left him feeling too vulnerable and sick of himself under it.
“So let me ask first; What the fuck is the matter with you?” Natalie sneered.
“I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice was tight, jaw tighter, fighting a tremble that was threatening to break. “I-I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know. I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it-” A single tear fell, slipping out of the corner of his eyes, sliding down his cheek- the final crack in his demeanor.
Carmen tried to fight it, deep breaths that burned his lungs and nose to control the tears, keep him from breaking here on his sister’s porch, but they wouldn’t stop. Carmen wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, after crying for days on end, how he hadn’t shriveled up his tear ducts. Yet here he was, broken sobs slipping out again.
Sugar didn’t move. Arms still crossed over her chest, lips still fixed in a hard line, watching Carmen with intensity as he broke down, tears flowing in front of her. She didn’t comfort him, not that he expected her to. She didn’t try to give him words of encouragement, advice on how to right the wrongs like the others did. Instead, she kept a furious gaze on him, unmoved by the tears.
“Please,” Carmen sniffed hard, running the back of his hand over his nose. “Please, Sugar, please. Ju-Just let me see Teddy. Let me se-ee her. Don’t-Don’t do this to me. Don’t ke-ep my kid away from me-”
“-Me?” Sugar scoffed, pushing her hand into her chest. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t you even start that shit, Carm. I’m not keeping your kid away from you, let’s make that clear.”
Carmen’s breath hitched when she stepped towards him, toe to toe with him, teeth bared in a grit of anger. “I didn’t take your kid away. You know who did? Hm? You.” Natalie snapped, Carmen flinched at the cruelty of her words. “You did this, Carmen. You did every last bit of this. This is on you. No one else but you.”
Carmen held in a cry that threatened to break out, face crumbling with tears. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to soothe the burn and hide his distraught. “And you know something else? I know you don’t remember dad very well, but I do, ok? And lately, you’ve been acting just like him.” Sugar’s tone clipped, leaving a burning sting in Carmen’s chest at her words.
“Yelling just because shit didn’t go your way? Do you know part of the reason mom’s so fucked up? Why everyone takes her side all the time and babies her? Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Lee? It’s because dad used to berate her, scream at her so badly- say some of the worst shit in the world because he was stressed out, that those guys would feel bad for her.” Sugar ranted. “And I promise you- promise you if I told Uncle Jimmy right now what you said, how I found your wife, he’d agree with me. Maybe even worse.”
Carmen shifted, his heart squeezing in fear now. Jimmy loved you, always had. He held a special soft spot in his heart for you. Worse was probably right, and truthfully, Carmen would accept it- he deserved it. It wouldn’t be as bad as how he felt right now.
Natalie held Carmen’s gaze, letting her words sink in. She lifted his hand when he started to talk. “I don’t-I really don’t want to hear it, ok?” Natalie shook her head. “And before you start trying to come up with some excuse-”
“-I-I’m not-”
“- I want you to know something. To hear it and really listen to it.” Natalie paused, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. “I know you’ve been through a lot- We’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t mean you get to just treat people like shit. That you can act like this and it’s ok.”
“I know that.” Carmen’s jaw was tight, strangled words croaking out.
“Then act like it.” Natalie snapped. “It’s not easy, none of this is easy, Carm. I mean… Do you know that every day- every single day, I wake up and something happens that’s shitty or rough, and I think about how easy it would be just to grab a bottle of wine or two. Drink myself unconscious like mom does. Just how easy that would be, how nice it would be just to drown myself out instead of face the issues.”
“There’s days when MJ or Maggie or-or Pete just drive me fuckin’ nuts, and I want to pull my hair out, or scream, or Pete will do something that just pushes me right over the edge and I just want to rage.” Natalie continued, arms waving dramatically. “I want to throw in the towel, take the easy way out, rage, drink myself silly, scream at all of them until I feel better, but you know what? You know what I don’t do? I don’t do that.”
Natalie crossed her arms, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t do that to them because I know how that feels.” Her voice cracked, just barely, enough to show the emotion that was hiding underneath. “I know how that felt. I know how that made me feel.”
Carmen could feel his eyes brimming with tears again, too emotional to be embarrassed. Donna’s many red faced, slurred screaming tyrades came back to his mind. How he’d hide, try and stay quiet and invisible to avoid them. Even as he got older.
“I know how that fucked me up. How it fucked them up. How it fucked you up, an-and Mikey up. I mean- how it…it fucked our whole life up!” Sugar laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “I just… When I think about that, and about how it just ruined all of us. That’s the last thing, the very last thing, I’d ever want to do to my kids, to Pete, t-to anyone, really.”
Carmen nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. His throat burned, scratchy and sore from screaming and crying. His chest was tight, constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, maybe something worse, yet, he felt eerily calm in the moment. Still even under the shame and hurt her words brought. He sat on the porch, sure his knees would give out soon, head spinning and dizzy with this damning realization.
“You need to make up your mind. Make a decision, right here, right now.” Sugar continued behind him. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew her face was stoic to hide the hurt, hide the emotions. A classic Berzatto deflection trait. “You need to decide what you’re going to do to be better for your family. If you’re going to continue to be a selfish, piece of shit, or if you’re going to change; be better.”
Carmen’s shoulders shuddered with his next breath, deep but not intentional; like he didn’t even know he did it. Too dazed and deep in thought, staring blankly ahead. “I can tell you,” Sugar stepped towards the door. “It’s not comfortable. It’s not easy. It is so hard some days. You have to fight for it every day, fight to break shit that was drilled into you, fight to recognize that some things you do, you don’t even mean to. It takes a lot of work, but… I’d rather fight every single day to be better, to be kinder and softer and more understanding for my family, than to not have them at all.”
Carmen couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you were so naturally nurturing and sweet. You’d always been like that. You were loving and gentle freely. You’d always been so patient with him. It almost made him feel insecure, inferior, when he thought of it before, but now, he just wanted to return the favor.
“You decide what you want to do, and then maybe- maybe you’ll get to see them again.” Sugar turned the door knob, pushing it open. “But today? Not a chance. Go get yourself together before you try and do this again.” Carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, harder than he thought it would. Still, he didn’t move from his spot on the porch, head in his hands, deep in thought about his future, his past, everything.
“There he is!” Fak’s voice was muffled through the car window, slowly pulling to a stop in Sugar and Pete’s driveway.
Carmen looked up slowly, taking a slow, grounding exhale in, just as Richie and Fak climbed out of the car. “Cousin, thank fuckin’- You better be glad he’s here.” Richie glared at Fak.
“I am!” Fak chirped defensively.
Carmen stood slowly, turning one last time to look at the front door. He couldn’t see through the small privacy glass on the door, but he swore he could hear you- hear your voice. Soft and hushed, a little cautious mixing with Sugar’s reassuring one. It took everything in him not to turn and bust the door down, run inside and throw himself at your feet, begging for forgiveness.
He knew that time would come.
Instead, he walked to the car, sliding in the backseat, ignoring the confused looks Richie and Fak gave each other. “So, uh, did you-”
“-Don’t ask that.” Richie cut off Fak with a bark of annoyance. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing! I just- I thought we all wanted to know-”
“-Hey, Cousin,” Carmen muttered, staring blankly at the house. Richie hummed, turning to Carmen carefully. “What’s, uh… You-You said you had someone for me to talk to?”
“Yeah,” Richie nodded slowly. “The therapist?”
Carmen paused, swallowing slowly. “You…You think she’d see me now?”
“Right now?” Richie lifted a brow. Carmen nodded slowly, still looking past him, eyes glued on the house. He swore he could see a figure move- your figure, peeking through the blinds before ducking back into the shadows. “Yeah, I’m sure she will. I can… I can call her. See what I can do.”
“Thanks.” Carmen twisted his wedding band gently, the car jolting gently as Fak started to back out.
Fak turned around, looking from the back window to Carmen with a hesitant grimace. “You ok?” He asked, his voice dropped to a low hush with Richie on the phone beside him.
“No,” Carmen admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, I-I’m not, but… I wanna be.” Carmen looked at Fak, eyes glassy with emotion. “I gotta get my shit together. Gotta do better f-for my family.”
Fak nodded slowly, pulling out onto the road, slowly shifting the gears back into place. The car began to roll, Carmen watching Sugar and Pete’s house disappear in the rearview. His heart tore, ripped right down the middle and split at the seams knowing he was leaving you, Teddy- his family behind. It took everything, every ounce of strength not to turn around, not to run back. It hurt, but he realized, this is what Sugar was talking about.
So, Carmen went to the other side of town, to the small building where Richie’s therapist was. His counselor he’d started seeing a while back, when he was on his purpose journey.
It was weird, weirder than Al-Anon. Carmen felt entirely too vulnerable sitting in that chair, having her stare at him and only him, nodding as he told his ‘story’- it felt weird to call it that. He didn’t want it to be his story, his defining qualities. No, Carmen wanted a new story, a better one with you and Teddy and his family. He’d told Dr. Mullins that.
“I think that’s a great start, Carmen.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “So, tell me how you’d do that.”
Carmen scoffed lightly, looking down at his hands. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” He admitted. “Kinda thought that’s what you were for.”
“You’re right. I’m here to help you reach that goal, maintain it.” She nodded. “But in order to do that, I need to know a little more.”
“Like what?” Carmen muttered. “I don’t really remember my dad and all the bad shi-stuff he’d do.”
“You said you didn’t want that to define you, so let’s not talk about that.” She shook her head softly. “Let’s focus on what you want. What kind of life you’d want to live with your family.”
Carmen’s knee bounced, taking a shaky breath. “I… I don’t want to lose control.” He admitted. “I don’t want t-to scream, and say shit I don’t mean, and-and to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do that again.”
“Good.” Dr. Mullins nodded slowly. “Let’s start there.”
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader#dorothea “teddy” berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader angst#carmen berzatto angst#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmen berzatto x female!reader#pete the bear#neil fak#richie jerimovich#natalie berzatto#sugar berzatto#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x pregnant reader#carmen berzatto x pregnant!reader#carmen berzatto x you#jimmy the bear#the bear fanfiction#carmen berzatto fic#the bear fic
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waking up with seventeen
Seungcheol
obv the person who wakes up later than you
His hand rests gently across your waist all night, in a way that connects both your bodies until people that witness both of you would think you two are connected
His ass definitely has the energy to pull you back to bed if he finds out that you’re getting out of bed
Demands a morning kiss from you (with his stinky breath, he’s going to sulk if you don’t)
Such a clingy guy
The first lights of the day seeped into your shared bedroom anchoring themselves onto your lover’s face, with each ray caressing his well-defined cheekbones. After acknowledging debating to get out of the current situation you’re in, you struggled out of his grasp (for at least 15 minutes) before throwing the fluffy blankets off. Sleepy eyelids fluttering open, his mouth tumbled out a few incoherent words before ultimately deciding it was more effective to tug you back into the embrace of his arms. Eyes big and lips pouting, you knew what he meant, his morning kisses. Breath stinky and all, he knew how to use his face to his advantage. Leaning down from the awkward position he put you in, you quickly placed a quick peck on his cheek before demanding him to get up for your morning walk.
“But princess! It’s too early!” >:(
Jeonghan
Someone who would probably wakes up the same time as you
You see hannie’s a light sleeper I feel that the moment he feels you attempting to sit up he’s already looking up at you, eyes begging you to lie back down with him
Definitely lays down near to your chest listening to your heartbeat when you both get ready to sleep
when you guys wake up his head is still firmly attached to your chest, looking up at you with hazy eyes clouded with sleep
“Hannie we’ve got to wake up!” Although you’ve been whining for the umpteenth time, you didn’t dare to move an inch. Scared to shock him awake from his constant drifting in and out of sleep state, you resorted to slowly stroking his hair, that’ll surely wake him up right? Wrong. You both fell back asleep until midday. The blazing sun rays glared across the room, the burning sun rays making his hair seem ever so elegant. The tranquil quietness that hung in the atmosphere was broken once a call reverberated across the room. This was the fifth time this month that he was late to his dance practice. As he reluctantly pulls away, his sleepy ass has to hear your nagging about how half your day is gone while chiding him about being late. Smug grin plastered across his face; he doesn’t mind at all. After all, he had a restful sleep and much of your attention.
“But angel,” he whined indignantly while burying his face into his shoulder “it was so comfy getting to cuddle with you!”
Joshua
Someone who makes it a point to wake up early to go jogging and ensure half his day isn’t wasted
You see shua’s presence is like the early morning’s sun that shines through the window
I bet his embrace is so warm like going for a swim early in the morning and when you get out of the pool, the temperature is just right, not too cold not too scalding hot
I need someone like shua to hug me, i bet it’ll solve all my problems :(
Morning kisses are a habit you developed early in your relationship with him. So, whenever you guys have the chance to cuddle throughout the night, shua wakes you up by pecking your face.
Ticklish, I know.
But he’s someone who would love to disturb you for fun (in a loving way ofc).
This sweet baby would wake up early to train his body and to make breakfast for the two of you.
Nuzzling your face into his chest, his arms instinctively wrapped around your lower back, rubbing slow circles. A loose white t-shirt hanging off his body with a towel wrapped around his neck, he had just come back from his morning run and showered. The slow hum of the coffee machine added to the comfortable silence enveloping the two of you as he made breakfast. The slow morning coupled with the constant assurance that he wasn’t going anywhere made you ease up. It was so long since you last spent time together, you were not budging a single bit from his side so he resorted to lifting you up onto the kitchen counter (cliche ik) while pecking your face and see it scrunch up in pure delight, it had to be one of his favourite sights of you. The warm morning sun doing glory to your face.
“Darling calm down!” He giggled exasperatedly while pecking your face in between his speech “I’m not going anywhere calm down!”
Jun
Oh this sweet boy :(
He would be so eepy in the morning because both of you would take ages to get into a comfortable position to sleep
Furthermore, he is a member of the performance team, their dance practices diving deep into the night when everyone is asleep
You would have to wait for him to come home and do your night routine before finally tucking in and drifting off
The next day both of you would wake up real late past midday while practically clinging onto each other for dear life
I feel that he would wake up later than you due to exhaustion, hence you would have to make breakfast (or lunch) before he wakes up
Clingy baby pt2
“Umphhh” a sudden weight collapsed onto your shoulder, two long arms finding home by latching themselves onto your waist. A mess of hair tickling your neck as he nuzzled his face into your neck and pressed loving kisses against your shoulder blade. The height distance was gigantic, making him bend down awkwardly all the while trying to make himself feel comfortable. Giggling quietly, you nudged him to go sit down at the dining table so that he would feel more at rest. However, this sleepyhead would absolutely refuse to do so, insisting that the awkward position feels comfortable even though his neck aches really bad :( He insists that staying beside you was worth the ache in his neck. When he comes back from another taxing day, you would have to make it up to him by massaging his neck and back before repeating the same routine before the weekend finally comes around.
“Baby it's worth it I promise!” He whined while looking down at you, not listening to whatever you have to say as he makes his way back to your shoulder in refuge.
Hoshi
I’m pretty sure Hoshi jolts bolts of energy 24/7
Except on the days he comes back looking for refuge after a particularly draining day of never-ending dance practices
However, after a good night’s rest, he seems to have almost recharged completely
Waking up once the day’s first sun rays hit his eyelids, he practically bounces onto you while pecking your face in an attempt to wake you up
You would practically beg him for another 5 minutes of rest even though he would be bugging you throughout your well-deserved rest.
Clingy baby pt3
“Soonyoung you’ve got to stop waking me up!” you whined in your sleep, attempting to cover your ears with a pillow. However, Soonyoung being much much (MUCH) muscular than you, you’d find your pillow getting aggressively launched to the other side of the room while Soonyoung practically dives onto your body, nuzzling his cheek against your own. Seeing your boyfriend being in such peace and happiness made you realise. Oh, how much he loves you. Anyways, who are you to reject his cuddles when he looks this cute. Blankets tossed aside and some pillows getting absolutely thrashed onto the cold and hard floor, you shivered as the cold air caresses your skin, goosebumps instantly forming all over your skin. The warmth radiating for Soonyoung’s body was enough to warm you up enough though. Or was it? “Cutie.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like it was ever so casual, “it’s already seven in the morning! I’ve let you sleep in for an hour today!” Whining while trying to elbow him, he managed to tickle you awake. Your eyelids instantly opened up, shooting a menacing glare at him, Soonyoung teased, “Oh there she is, my baby tiger!”
Wonwoo
Both of you definitely wake up at 3pm
If he didn’t have any dance practices the previous day, he would have been gaming until the wee hours of the morning.
You would either be situated in bed, at your desk, or on his lap waiting for him to grow tired so that the both of you can fall asleep together
Sometimes, when you get too tired, you would practically try and drag him to bed, begging him to cuddle you
I think wonu wakes up later than you cause he sleeps so damn late
you would have to cook lunch for him
You wouldn’t want your baby to become hungry, would you?
Voice laced with thickness, it was another morning afternoon where you tried not to burn down the house by cooking a simple dish that hopefully wouldn’t be too overwhelming to eat. Wonwoo was sitting down at the dining table, arms supporting his head by leaning his elbows on the table, his gaze following your every movement. As you opened the cupboard overhead, you realised one of the sauces you needed to make your food with was too high up. Jumping up and trying to grab it, Wonwoo laughed at your miserable attempt to reach it. Chuckling deeply, he walked towards your direction while wrapping his hand around your waist. Pressing a peck to the crown of your head, he rubbed the pad of his thumb on your bare skin, his other hand shooting up to grab the sauce bottle. Gently placing it down on the counter, he trapped you in between his body and the counter while kissing you firmly on your lips. Hands gripping your waist tightly, he was about to press another kiss to your temple when you smelt burnt food. Turning your attention to the food which has been on high heat for the past few minutes, you quickly reached over to turn off the stove. Glaring playfully at him, he could only chuckle in guilt. “The food’s burnt Wonwoo.” >:(
“It’s ok I can make us some cup noodles.”
Woozi
I feel that woozi goes to bed late at night
Or just pulls an all nighter in his studio
You would have like late night dates in his studio (it’s canon)
So once both of you return home and go to sleep it’ll be so late
I feel that woozi will wake up earlier than you
He would definitely go to the gym to work out early in the morning
When he comes back you would already be awake, lazing in bed
Both of you would have a playlist playing in the background while enjoying each other’s presence
The fan overhead circulated the air around the bedroom. Windows and curtains closed, the only sound you could hear in the room was the quiet humming of the ceiling fan. Whistling a tune, Jihoon pulled the curtains open, the bright rays of light seeping into the bedroom. Your boyfriend standing in the bright gaze of the sun, shirtless with a towel hanging across shoulders, made him seem much more ethereal than usual. Turning around with a cup of coffee in hand, he catches you staring shamelessly at him. Scoffing a bit, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you while handing you the cup. Accepting the cup of coffee, you place the cup on your cheek, soaking the warmth of it. Reaching out for his phone, he connects your speaker and opens spotify before playing your morning playlist. Leaning against him for support and warmth, the both of you enjoy your slow morning with songs playing one after the other. Jihoon thinks that it was a good investment to get spotify premium, enjoying your quiet presence beside him made him realise. Oh he wants this for the rest of his life. Experiencing each morning with you by his side.
“Darling,” he hums out, turning his face to face yours. The lovesick look that hung in his eyes made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Yea?” “I just wanted to let you know you look ever so beautiful.” (SOMEONE GET ME A JIHOON RN 👹)
Minghao
wakes up once the sun comes out
Probably in another room drinking tea and shit
(maybe) meditating
Growing up in an chinese household i’ve seen my neighbours and relatives do 太極拳 (tai ji quan) like before the sun comes out
(Doing it in school during morning assembly makes me shiver in my microscopic boots frfr)
Bro would probably play the routine songs while doing it since he’s a dancer yk
So when you wake up, Minghao probably waits for you at the living room, two cups of hot steaming tea in the ceramic pot while he does his morning stretches
Forces you into doing it with him tho
The artificial birds chirping and the creek flowing sound blasted through the speakers. It resounded across the whole house, lifting you out of your sleep. Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you opened the windows, basking in the morning air before packing up the bed. Making your way out of your shared bedroom, you caught sight of your lover doing his routine of stretching and tai ji. Sitting in front of the coffee table, you reached out to the teapot before pouring yourself a cup of green tea. Your presence made Minghao turn his gaze to you before whispering a small “good morning”. You returned the gesture by nodding your head.
“So darling, what would you like for breakfast?”
Mingyu
Another big baby :(
Clingy baby alert! (pt4 i think)
Has both his hands wrapped around your waist and refuses to let go even when you want to visit the washroom
Clingy baby wakes up later than you
I think he said in an interview (with jaeseok and seokjin) that he usually wakes up at 3 to 4 pm
Clings onto you when you’re doing your morning routine
If he is still tired and feeling incredibly clingy that day he would be like cheol and pull you back to bed and trap you in his embrace
“Gyu you’ve got to let go.” Shooting him a nasty look, he finally obeys before releasing you to go to the toilet. He would lay down on your side of the bed (as if he isn’t situated there the whole night) and act like a sick Victorian child. He would repeatedly call out your name and ask you where you are to which you would reply “Kim Mingyu are you going to let me pee in peace?” TT. Once you finally make your way back to the bed, you would refuse to talk to him (as a joke) and ignore his persistent questions of “What took you so long :(“ Please protect this big baby at all costs. He’s so whiny and clingy, it’s so adorable. You reached out to the bedside table to grab your phone from the charger but before you could even reach it, your boyfriend already reached out to your arm and pulled you back to the bed where he would keep you in his embrace for the next hour.
“Baby are you going to leave me like this, cold, loney..” He rambles on and on about how you’ve left him alone :( “But Mingyu I need to pee!” (sobbing sounds continue)
Dokyeom
Another baby who would wake up earlier than you
So so so energetic (I can’t stress this enough)
He would probably pounce on you to wake you up
Peppering your face with numerous kisses
He would tickle you awake
If you don’t wake up by his tickles you would wake up by his singing at 8 am in the morning
Broski is probably having a 1 hour session singing in the bathroom
You’d probably have noise complaints from the neighbours lmao
I bet 100% that he’s going to sing the symphony dolphin meme just to annoy you
No but this baby wouldn’t want to disturb your sleep
He’s such a softie :(
Waking up to the sound of water splashing (100% real not creek flowing music) you hear your boyfriend singing his heart out to his spotify playlist in the bathroom. Not that you’re complaining though. The voice of his makes your heart melt at his sincerity of being an idol. The music comes to an end and a few seconds later, you hear the water stop flowing before the bathroom door creaks open. You make eye contact with your boyfriend who is currently drying his hair with a small towel. He grins at you before continuing with his next song while choosing what to wear. Seriously, is this sunshine ever going to stop singing?
“Baby~” Dokyeom sing-songs before holding up an outfit he chose. “Should I wear this today?”
Seungkwan
Oh this dramatic diva >:D
He would wake up once his alarm clock rings
He would then spend like the next hour in the bathroom doing his thing before going to the kitchen and grabbing a cooling face mask
By the time you wake up, he must have come back from his morning run
You would find him in the kitchen drinking his iced americano and taking his health supplements
Would probably side eye you and nag you on why you shouldn’t sleep in for too long
“I’ve told you so many times!” Seungkwan whined while clinging onto your shoulder. “It’s not good to sleep in! You should have gone to bed earlier!” Ignoring the poor boy’s constant nagging, you tried to go back to sleep on the bed. You would see him pick up his karaoke machine’s mic and start pouring out his heart and soul into a wonder girl’s song. That should wake you up enough before you pounce on him and ask him to shut up for your sanity. He’s going to dodge all your attacks before trapping you in his embrace and shooing you away to take your supplements.
“I want nobody, nobody but you” (obnoxious clapping sounds) “I want nobody, nobody but you” “Boo Seungkwan if you don’t shut up in the next one minute, I’m going to throw you outside the house.” (你给我滚出去 reference)
Vernon
Oh this guy and his sleeping habits
He has such a laid back vibe and i’m here for it
You guys probably watch those funny cat videos compilation series on youtube in the morning
Or maybe both of you would be on twitter or tiktok and you would send each other funny videos or memes
Both of you too lazy to get up
The only time both of you get up is when either one of you need to use the washroom
I feel that vernon would wake up slightly later than you
both of you guys taking your morning slow
“Nonie?” You tugged the sleeve of his shirt trying to gain his attention. Turning around to meet your gaze, he instinctively raised an eyebrow before you showed him the funny video you found on TikTok. Gently grabbing the phone out of your hand, he looked at the video with mild amusement before returning it to you. “Too late, I've already seen it.” He smirks before laughing his heart out. You can only smack him out of playful annoyance and irritation, trying to get that stupid grin out of his face. “But it is funny!” You whined, bottom lip jutting out as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.
“I’m sorry babe, it’s just so amusing to see you getting worked up!”
Chan
Oh my precious baby :(
He’s so so so so so pocket sized and tiny D:
Since he is also part of the performance team (4/4)
I can totally see him sleeping until after midday
When he does wake up, you would be in the kitchen preparing food for him to eat and regain his energy
Most likely cause he didn’t have much energy to eat dinner last night
He would wake up and make his way to you, back hugging you as you focus your attention on not burning the food
He would insist that he wants to help you cook the food but you would refuse bc how can you let your baby work when he is so tired
Shooing him away to the dining table but he wouldn’t budge since he is also another clingy baby (pt5 if i remember correctly)
Arms wrapped around your torso and head buried in your neck, he would just stay there, basking happily in the moment
“Channie, go and sit at the dining table. The food is almost done!” You nudged him, giving him the assurance that you weren’t going anywhere. However, this clingy baby would not leave your side even for a second. You guessed that his training last night must have taken a toll on his body as you noticed him burying his head even deeper into your shoulder, sniffling your neck as his grip on your torso got even tighter. “Why move to the dining table if you aren’t there with me!” He whined gripping you even tighter, you weren’t sure if you were able to breathe anymore due to the fact that he had been working out a lot more recently. You could only chuckle in amusement as you plated the food and walked towards the dining table to put the plates down. Sitting down on the long bench. Chan refused to sit at the opposite side, deciding that sitting beside you (or lying half of his body on you) was the better option. You had no choice but to baby him, feeding him his bread and letting him sip on his water. Chan could only look up at you with his half opened droopy eyes, looking at you with the most lovesick gaze.
“I love you so much you know, right?” :(
“I know Channie, this has been the fifth time you have said it in the last 5 minutes.” You state while brushing his fringe back, wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead.
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen ot13#svt#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen drabbles#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#svt fluff#scoups#choi seungcheol#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan#joshua#hong jisoo#joshua hong#wen junhui#moon junhui#junhui x reader#seventeen junhui#hoshi#kwon soonyoung#svt soonyoung#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonu
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Teen Dad (OP81)
(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)
Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids
Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.
“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.
“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed.
“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed.
“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.”
He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose.
Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one.
“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.
“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.
After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.
oscarpiastri
liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris, and 518,294 others
oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.
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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!
#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#oscar piastri x reader#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#oscar piastri#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 fluff#op81 fic#op81
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Hate To Love You
YANDERE!BULLY X READER
Cw: stalking, bullying, general yandere silliness
this is my first attempt at making an x reader ! we'll see if i'll continue making these for you guys :3
🖤 This man is in very much in denial of having a fat crush on your cute ass
🖤 He bullied a lot of people during his years in high school, but something about you when you enrolled at the start of junior year felt different.
🖤 The first time you met, you were by your locker when he noticed you, he grinned at the thought of fresh meat to torture and slammed the locker next to you menacingly.
🖤 The little yelp you made when he approached you gave him a small tingle of…something…
🖤 Although he’s seen many many people cower under him before, the way you shook and avoided eye contact was utterly adorable to him.
🖤 His face grew red, and he pushed himself off of the lockers, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked away frustrated, grumbling to himself. After the feeling of confusion went away you went on with your day right after that.
🖤 He started focusing on bullying you now, all the other people he’s picked on before you were forgotten and left alone, you’re making him feel this weirdly nice feeling so you must be his new rival!
🖤 No it’s totally not an excuse to see and talk to you more often! He hates you!
🖤 He tries to bully you, insult you, annoy you in some way, but every time he talks to you, he starts getting all nice, he hates it! Why do you have to be goddamn interesting!?
🖤 “Hey loser! I heard you got that role you wanted in the school play! I mean why wouldn’t they pick you? You’re so good at acting and you’re so attractive and your voice is so..h-hey, that wasn’t a compliment!”
🖤 If he ever sees you in bad shape like dark eyebags or if you look like you didn’t eat, he’d hand you water, some of his lunch, hell he’d drag you under the bleachers with him, so you’d sleep peacefully on his shoulder.
🖤 “Hey nerd, drink some water…I’m not worried about you! You just look like shit and…j-just take the bottle!”
🖤 If he sees anyone talking to you all friendly, he starts bullying them too in order to scare them off.
🖤 “Going home alone? Pfft, what happened to you loser friends?...You don’t hang out anymore? Hah! What a loser! I guess you’re all mine then…not in a romantic way or anything…”
🖤 If other bullies start bullying you, he will throw hands.
🖤 “What are you doing being pushed around by those assholes? You should’ve told me!...Of course I care! I’m your bully, not them!”
🖤 Sometimes he’d follow you home and watch you through your window, lying to himself that this is for getting dirt on you for blackmail or…something.
🖤 He stares intently at you as you remove your clothes and change into your pajamas, his pants getting a little tighter.
🖤 He’d watch you as you touch yourself in bed, not knowing that he’s pumping his throbbing cock the same pace as you.
🖤 He’d start to be more physical with you after that, eating with you, wrapping his arm around you protectively, with yet another excuse of “to make sure you don’t snitch to the teachers”
🖤 You’d then notice things going missing in your room, small clothes, jewelry, makeup, a spoon?
🖤 Meanwhile Yan!Bully is in his room hugging and nuzzling his face in his pillow which he covered with one of your shirts.
🖤 Under all that rough exterior, he’s just a nervous, perverted simp who doesn’t know how to express his emotions healthily.
🖤 But he won’t admit that.
🖤 Ever.
🖤 …
🖤 Maybe..
#yandere x gn reader#yandere x reader#yandere#tw yandere#male yandere#yandere male#yandere x you#x reader#yandere x male reader#x male reader#female reader#x female reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#bully x reader#yandere bully#yandere x darling
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Roses are red... [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
[Timothée masterlist]
If you want to request something, leave it in my inbox!
A noise in the distance was responsible for waking you up from your not-so-pleasant sleep in the hard, cold bed that you had been using for almost a year. Could it be Scrubbit? It was too late for her to be doing anything, you thought, much less in the bedroom section. With some curiosity you slipped your cold feet into the even colder shoes to turn on the lamp on your table and left the room with the intention of discovering what that was.
Hallways always made you nervous and the thought of encountering something unpleasant made you even more uneasy, but you tried to keep your mind occupied with something else as you moved forward step by step. Seeing nothing outside the rooms, you continued down the spiral stairs and that was where you finally observed the cause of the commotion: a crouching body that made you jump in surprise.
“Mr. Wonka?” you whispered when you noticed the burgundy coat and this time it was your turn to startle.
“Oh, it's just you,” he laughed, a little more relieved “What are you doing here?”
“The noise woke me up. What are you doing here?” you asked back, seeing him fully dressed and with his shoes on.
“Trying to get out. I need to get an ingredient to finish tomorrow's chocolates” he explained to you.
True, tomorrow would be the big day where you guys would do your best to present your friend's chocolates to the world. You had to admit that at first you hadn't been fascinated by the idea, but after seeing all the good things that this had brought for the entire group you were more than willing to continue supporting in whatever way you could. That was why the next day you would sneak into the gourmet galleries during the day to help operate the shop that Abacus and Noodle had managed to rent. And you could tell that Wonka could barely contain his excitement.
“How do you plan to go out at this time?” you asked, as it was obvious that your usual exit through the laundry tube wasn’t an option.
“There's a space big enough for someone to get out in that part, see?” he murmured, pointing with his cane at a gap above the front door “I just need to get a good grip on this rope and I can climb up there. I will pull it to the other side and before dawn I will climb again.”
“And what if Scrubbit sees you?”
“She won't,” Wonka whispered, completely sure of himself. There was a brief silence between you, where you just looked at him with a certain claim and he returned that look with an amused "Do you want to come with me?"
"What? No!"
"Come on! It will be fun"
“I'm in my pajamas,” you said through clenched teeth.
“Then put on different clothes,” he quickly resolved, with a smile that was too enthusiastic for your liking. Looking at your doubtful expression he added: “It will only be a few hours, don't you want to get out of here?”
Although you were a little hesitant, after thinking about it a little and with the help of the man's hopeful expression you ended up being convinced. Making as little noise as possible you went up to your room to dress properly and when you returned he was already sitting on a step, waiting for you.
“I hope you know what you're doing,” you whispered close to him, half excited and half scared to death by what you were about to do.
You had gone out before, of course, but you knew that doing it at night was even riskier for many reasons you didn't want to think about right now.
He went first, just to check that everything was safe, and then you followed him, albeit with a little less grace. When you were above the door he reminded you to pull the rope for the time to return and when you looked at the height at which you were the idea of going down became less promising than at the beginning.
“Jump and I'll catch you” he exclaimed, noticing your frightened expression and you took a moment to try to calm down by breathing deeply.
You analyzed your options and thought that in that position you would have to go down anyway, and it was preferable to do it outwards, so without thinking too much about it you made a sign to the boy and then threw yourself forward with your eyes closed. You heard him exhale in surprise and the next thing you felt were his arms holding you, perhaps too tightly, as he feared you were going to fall suddenly.
"Are you okay?" he laughed softly, quite close to your ear. Upon hearing that you opened your eyes only to meet his, as green and beautiful as a pair of emeralds.
“Yes, everything is perfect” you sighed, and then he gently placed you on the floor. Without even expecting it you had already giggled too.
“Okay, go ahead.”
Without questioning him, you began to walk behind him and when you were a couple of streets away you were able to breathe more calmly, as if the weight of your captors had been reduced on your shoulders. Due to the schedule of your visits abroad, you hadn’t had the opportunity to appreciate the beautiful lights around you and you were sure that at that moment you looked like a child fascinated by them.
“They're pretty, right?” Wonka asked, confirming your hypothesis completely. Seemingly he had been watching you look at the decorations.
“They are,” you answered timidly. “What precisely are we looking for?” you asked next, still a little distracted by the environment, but trying to get his attention away from you.
“Some young rose leaves to make an infusion for the chocolate roses. I saw a full garden near the park the other time, when we were returning to the laundry. I think they can be useful”
“Are you feeling nervous?” you murmured gently, giving him your full attention now as you crossed your arms to keep some warmth. “About tomorrow.”
“A little… well, a lot actually. But in a good way,” he smiled “The truth is that I have never felt so nervous and excited in my life. All this is like a dream come true”
“I hope it’s perfect,” you murmured and you said it with sincere faith.
You had tried so hard to achieve all this that you were not only looking to do it to pay off your debt with Scrubbit, but also to see your new friend happy. And how would you not want that? Seeing him happy was a wonderful sight.
"Are you cold?" he asked, noticing that your figure was slightly curled in on itself. Apparently he was noticing a lot more than you would like.
"Only a little"
You were going to add that you were fine with it, but suddenly he stopped you by jumping in front of you and when you were about to ask what was happening, he undid the scarf around his neck to wrap it around yours. His movements were careful and the closeness forced you to hold your breath, only for your nostrils to then be flooded with the boy's aroma combined with the cheap detergent with which he had surely washed the garment.
"Better now?" the man smiled and since you didn't have time to assimilate the situation you just nodded, without stopping looking at him just because he kept looking at you.
You thought maybe this was what it would feel like to hug the boy, even though you had never done it, and then you hid your nose in the soft fabric. It had purple and green patterns on a gray background, quite pretty actually.
“The… the park. It’s there,” you stammered, pointing to a point behind your friend.
When he turned around he could see the rose bushes in the distance and let out an exclamation of joy, while his warm hand sought your wrist to guide you in their direction, causing a shiver to run through your entire body.
When you walked through the place and reached the plants he knelt next to the bushes, starting to rant about how functional these flowers would be, whether it was their leaves, the color, the shape... he listed more and more qualities, but you just could focus on the feeling on your neck and the warm ghost of his fingers on your skin.
And in that moment it was as if you had suddenly noticed something about him that you hadn't noticed at first; that there was some tenderness in his features that made you feel nervous or maybe it was his thin, skillful hands walking through the branches or even, daring to sound exaggerated, you would say that you suddenly noticed how handsome he really was. How did you notice it until now?
He said something and then you asked him to repeat it, since you had been too busy watching him to pay attention to his words.
“I asked you if you think any would be useful,” he said again. You took a look at the bush in front of you and pointed towards the first specimen you found, hoping that the talk would take away the thoughts that had invaded your mind.
To your surprise it turned out that the rose you had pointed out was quite pretty and, according to the requirements you remembered, it was perfect for the man's purposes. After congratulating your choice, he took out some scissors from his hat and carefully cut out the flower, to keep it in the same piece of fabric as the others that he had already selected.
“These roses will make the best chocolates, I can already imagine it,” he said with some pride, looking at the pile of plants you had. You hadn't even looked when he cut so many.
"They are beautiful"
"Yes, they are. And this one is for you."
If you had managed to get rid, even for a moment, of romantic thoughts towards him, right now he wasn't being very cooperative. Not when he was offering you the prettiest rose with such a sweet smile.
Why was he doing that? You did not know. Maybe he was just being kind and grateful, like he was most of the time.
“Huh, thank you, Mr. Wonka…”
“Be careful, he still has some thorns,” he warned you, “And stop calling me Mr. Wonka. “We are friends and my friends call me Willy.”
A small smile invaded your face and it was lucky that you were able to hide the blush on your cheeks with the excuse of inhaling the scent of the rose. It was exquisite, by the way.
“Then thank you, Willy,” you corrected yourself, to which he showed a satisfied expression.
And then a pleasant tickling invaded your stomach because, whether they were real flowers or chocolate flowers, it would always be a pleasure to receive such a cute detail from such a cute boy.
#wonka 2023#willy wonka x reader#wonka x reader#wonka movie#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet x reader#timothee x reader#willy wonka#roald dahl#wonka fanfic#willy wonka 2023#wonka fanfiction#wonka x fem reader
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I am Robin : Damian Wayne x reader (pt 1)
Summary: Damian x fem!s/o, who has no idea he's Robin. And who is scared of Robin. And who one day happens to meet Robin...
***
They weren’t living together, and definitely not in a leaving toothbrushes at each other’s place way. But their relationship wasn't casual either. After almost a year together, given Damian’s character traits, it could never be casual.
But Y/N wasn’t the type to rush him into anything and definitely not nagging to start sharing space. It was all right if he didn’t want to stay the night too. He was committed to his family and that was okay. Considering the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne himself, the Gotham’s persona, who tended to act a little eccentric, it was completely understandable that Damian wanted to check on him more often than not.
Who knew what kind of crazy idea could possibly enter the bored mind of a rich man.
It truly was no one’s wish to find some scandalous news from the first pages of the magazines.
So yes, she was full aboard on the idea of Damian’s checking on his father and his family.
Who seemed a little weird from the very beginning either way. The first time she met them all his siblings were nice, even awfully so, but she had this crazy feeling of being watched like a prey.
If only she knew why.
But yes, it was okay, because at least she wasn’t in a relationship with Mollycoddle, who demanded care and wanted to be treated with kids’ gloves.
But sometimes, only sometimes, she was wondering if it would be like that forever.
That she would have to sleep in the bed alone, wishing for him next to her.
That she would be forced to deal with her nightmares and loneliness and after work tiredness alone.
That almost every time she asked him to stay over he would prevaricate, giving more or less vague answers.
If only she knew why.
***
He was in the middle of patrolling with Batman and the rest of the family when Barbara’s voice came through the comms.
“Robin.”
“Yes? What is it, Oracle?”
“Y/N keeps blowing off your phone.”
Oh.
Obviously Damian did not take his device with him and definitely could not check whether his girlfriend was trying to contact him.
Barbara, on the other hand, was in charge of everyone’s notifications while they were busy during night hours, just to keep up the pretences of the batfam being completely normal citizens.
“Shall I respond?” Babs muttered to the comm, mentally rolling her eyes at the fact Damian was still keeping Y/N in the dark about his other identity. He was treating this girl seriously, it was obvious and even Batman would see reason in ensuring his blood son didn’t blow up a chance at happiness. Even with a civilian. And if not, Barbara would be more than happy to throw Bruce’s own mistakes in the area right at his face. And most likely the other batkids would gladly join her in this quest. Just for funsies. And for Damian obviously.
“Don’t you dare touching my phone, Oracle!” The last thing he needed was his more or less romantic and more or less spicy conversations with Y/N to come into the light!
“Do you want me to read the text to you?”
“Don’t you dare touching-“
“Robin, why can’t you just come forward and tell her?”
“Cause that would be putting a target on her back!”
“You are putting a target on her back by keeping her in the dark!”
“This is not—” Damian tried to argue, but never finished the sentence, realising, somewhere in the half of it, that Babs was actually true. “I don’t know what to do.” He finally settled on a deep sigh.
However, before Oracle could give him any relationship advice, Batman’s voice echoed from another line, calling his accomplices to order and stopping any personal discussions.
***
Meanwhile, Y/N was standing in front of the club, unsuccessfully attempting to reach Damian.
The party she was dragged to was a surprise to one of her work friends, who broke the news about getting married. Some of the girls decided it was a perfect opportunity for unofficial celebration and the party moved from club to club in the entire Gotham district.
It was impossible to not go. Y/N would be called antisocial, unfriendly and stiff the very same night.
But then it was late and cold and dark and she found herself far from her apartment, not sure how to proceed. Obviously, walking alone was a huge mistake, considering the location, but standing like a salt pillar was starting to turn even more stupid, as the lonely and bewildered woman unmoving on an empty street was the easy target for any thug.
And Damian was not picking up his phone or responding to texts, that started to become more and more desperate as Y/n lowered herself to almost begging for help.
When nothing came in return, with a heavy and a little broken heart she decided to try and get home by herself.
It was better than being a sitting duck and freezing to death.
***
“Robin.” The voice came through the comms again
“What do you want, Nightwing?”
“I got eyes on Y/N.”
“And why do you bore me with such unimportant details?” Damian muttered, not really paying attention to what his brother was saying. The youngest Wayne was simply too focused on his target for the night.
“Um… Robin?”
“I am busy, Nightwing.”
“Damian-“ Dick dared to say Robin’s real name, getting a bit desperate to get his attention.
“What now?!”
“I got eyes on Y/N!”
“Wh-what? What do you mean you got eyes on Y/N? She’s supposed to be home, safe and tucked under the cover, turning over on the other side while sleeping!”
“Well, she is not. She’s walking the street with someone on her tail, clearly chasing her.”
“What street?!”
“I’m going to take action now-“
“Don’t you dare, Nightwing.” Damian’s cold voice almost bore a hole in Dick’s head through the comms. “Oracle, give me Y/N location. I’ll be the only one taking the action when it comes to her.”
***
She knew she was being followed.
The man wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to it after all.
The heavy clatter of his boots echoed through the entire empty street, in perfect sync with the accelerated beat of her heart.
Headlines from the newspapers from the entire previous year flashed through her mind.
Rape.
Murder.
Assault.
Unexplained disappearance.
Y/n started to curse herself, instinctively reaching for the pepper spray, greedily clutching her fingers on the tiny, yet effective, bottle.
Though before she could actually use it, there was a loud thump behind her and she stopped with shaking hands and eyes closing, already saying goodbye to her life.
The man sure had a gun and that was the sound she heard. She was already dead. And no one will even know. She will bleed on the street, dying alone and in pain in the dark Gotham street, no news about her till the early morning and-
“Y/N.”
She spun around immediately. Whoever was talking, be it the man who was chasing her or someone else, he knew her name.
Robin. Batman’s sidekick.
The street light colours palette Robin.
Robin, the Gotham’s vigilante.
And one of her worst fears.
***
The thug was lying on the ground, blood was everywhere, including Robin’s uniform and she couldn’t make a single movement.
The most natural thing would be to thank him for the rescue and run away before he got too focused on her, reading right through her, seeing everything she did wrong in her entire life and bringing her to justice.
But she could hardly breathe let alone form one coherent sentence.
When he took a step towards her, she took a step back, almost tripping over her own feet, but miraculously finding balance.
He stopped, looking at her with a predatory smile, tilting head, waiting for a moment to strike.
His teeth shone in the dim light of a street lamp, growing, becoming sharper and she could almost imagine them tearing at her throat like a werewolf or some other supernatural creature, causing her pain for all the bad things she did and—
“You’re safe now.”
She blinked a few times, brought back to reality by his voice that was surprisingly soft. Calm, a little cold perhaps, but gentle regardless.
There was no blood, he was not a werewolf, and she was not in danger of being torn to pieces and having her insides dragged through the entire street.
But she was still scared, and not because of the thug, but because of the vigilante himself.
***
“You’re safe now.” Robin said calmly, keeping his distance. From Damian’s perspective under the mask, it was the worst thing he ever had to do in his life. Instead of rushing to her side, taking her in his arms, and giving her comfort and reassurance he had to keep hiding his face in the shadows. Unbeknown to him, Y/N was more than grateful about this fact.
“Uh-huh…” she stuttered, making Damian want to hug her even more. She was so shaken after being chased like this. After being put in danger.
It didn’t cross his mind, that she could be scared of him.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” This was not really a question in his head, but it was important to slowly assure her she was now protected.
“Uh-huh…” she stuttered again, with wide eyes and pale face, that Damian blamed on the aftermath of terrifying events.
“Okay.”
It was hard to not reach for her hand, envelop her in warmth and walk with her to her apartment. Making her her favourite tea and cuddling on the couch (a weakness he would never admit to his family). But he had to keep his mask, literally and figuratively. Therefore, having escorted her to her building and spinning on his heel, he left her alone.
Not for long though.
***
It took him fifteen minutes to change from Robin costume into regular, civilian clothes, almost searching for a phone booth like a freaking Superman, knowing that if Jon knew it, he would never let him live through it.
Meanwhile, he finally got hold of his phone and read through the desperate messages she’s been sending him for the last hour.
“Dami, please come pick me up. I’m at the XX”
“Dami, please…”
“I don’t know why you are not responding, but if I did something to make you mad, I am sorry…”
“Dami, I need you…”
“Please, it’s cold and I’m scared…”
“Dami… 🥺”
Oh no.
As if seeing her scared after dealing with the threat was not enough, now he also got the insight of what she was feeling and thinking while walking home alone.
That he left her.
That he didn’t care.
That she was alone.
And it made him speed the pace of the changing even more.
And causing Robin to make one, teeny-tiny mistake.
***
A knock on the door made her almost jump, settling on pretending she was not at her apartment. Or that she was sleeping – whichever seemed more plausible at 3 am.
“Y/n!”
The voice seemed familiar, but it could have been just the whispers of her stressed mind, combined with a desire for the presence of that one person she so desperately needed.
“Y/N! Open up, it’s me! Damian!”
She whimpered and moved deeper into the corner of the sofa, covering her ears.
He had to change tactics.
“I know where you keep the spare key. But if you don’t open in five, I’ll kick the door without the need to get it!”
An empty threat that could have only been made by him.
Four seconds later the bolt on the door rattled and Y/N stood face to face with Damian, who had absolutely no intention to put his words into action, just getting her to open.
“Y/N.” He sent her the most comforting and reassuring smile he could muster.
“Dami…” she sobbed, diving into his arms. “why weren’t you picking up your phone? I was scared and – and this guy-”
“Hush, dear.” His hands wrapped around her, taking a few steps forward so they were now inside her apartment and not in the hallway. “You’re safe now. I’m here and no one will hurt you.”
“But why weren’t you picking up?” she repeated nuzzling into him, the mix of emotions finally finding a way out in the form of uncontrolled sobs.
“My apologies, beloved. It was never my intention to make you feel abandoned. But I’m here now.”
“Mhm…”
“You’re okay. Shall I make you your tea? It will ease your nerves after being chased on the streets like that.”
“Yes, please…” she whispered and then a thought hit her. “Dami? I- I never told you I was being chased…”
“You know, it was quite evident. It’s Gotham. It’s late and your text was pretty clear-“ His green eyes met hers in a poor attempt to cover up for the obvious fail, trying to fill in the holes in the facts and silence her questions before they even arise.
But it was too late and she was too smart for being played like that.
There was no way Damian could have simply figured out what happened solely from her messages and ragged pieces of information.
His first question, right after comforting her, should have been what happened?
And how the hell did he get into her apartment almost right after she got in?
Right after Robin escorted her here?
“Dami--?” she stuttered with wide eyes, pulling slightly back, causing a little struggle when he tried to keep her in his arms.
Causing a little too much movement.
“Y/N, listen to me, I can—hey, are you all right?”
She was not.
She was not okay, seeing the familiar and well-known domino mask that fell from Damian’s pocket onto the floor in her apartment.
“You- you are—” her stuttering mixed with paleness and terror reflected in her eyes made him travel back to the conversation they had a few months earlier.
Oh, no…
How could he forget…?
to be continued...
Part 2
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hey! i just came over from tiktok, could you possibly do a gally x reader where he tries to act tough around all of the guys but (y/n) starts teasing about how sweet he actually is and he has to try and defend himself but gets all flustered over it, but can’t get mad at (y/n) cause he’s got that fat crush on her? (fem pronouns possibly please?)
Not So Tough
Pairing: Gally x fem!reader
Description: Gally has a hard exterior, but secretly melts when y/n is around.
Warnings: smooching, glade slang, idk just a lot of fluff, gally being a bit of a jerk
Words: 651
Prompt: Grumpy x Sunshine Trope
A/N: It lowkey ends kinda abruptly but OH WELL HERE YA GO
“Gally, would you please stop yelling at the rest of the builders and actually start building?” Newt called from the gardens.
“No can do, I gotta make sure everyone stays in line, that’s why you put me in charge of the builders, remember?” Gally called back, yelping soon after when one of the newer gladers dropped a piece of wood on his head. “You shank! Look what you’ve done! Dropping klunk all over the place, you should be sent to the slammer!”
“Gally, is that really any way to talk to the new guy?” Y/n jogged up to Gally from the med-jack hut where she was just supervising Clint and Jeff. Y/n was somewhat of a floater when it came to jobs. When they were testing what jobs she was good at, she was nearly good at every single one. Well, except for the slicers. Poor Winston nearly scared the girl half to death when he first came out with a machete.
“I uh- Well he dripped- I mean dropped that shucking piece of wood on me an-” Gally stammered.
“Gally, c’mon give the guy a break, he’s only been here a week,” Y/n said with a soft smile.
“Look, I’m just trying to do my job, gotta make sure everything gets done, right?” Gally said, seeming to regain his composure.
“And it will get done, you can just be a little nicer about it through,” Y/n said, placing a hand on Gally’s arm and running her fingers down his bicep.
Gally blushed. Y/n was playing him like a fiddle and she knew damn well what she was doing.
“I’ll see you at supper?” Y/n said.
“You know you’re the only one that calls it that, right? It’s dinner,” Gally snorted.
“Oh shut it, you know you love me,” Y/n said before turning over her shoulder and walking away, not before giving Gally one last smile. Gally stood there for a moment, not sure what to do with himself.
“Oi, Gally, what were you saying about making sure things get done?” Newt called, snickering to Alby.
“Oh slim it,” Gally growled. “No- you can’t hammer that in, there’s not a screw to hold it together!” He turned his attention to the Greenie.
___
“Hey big guy, not interested in tackling anyone to the ground tonight?” Y/n’s voice came from above Gally.
“No, not tonight, gonna try to go to sleep early,” Gally said, getting up and trying his best to avoid y/n. But before he could leave, y/n grabbed his wrist.
“Wait- did today really bother you?” She asked, furrowing her brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gally broke away from her grip and tried to escape again, but she was too quick for him. She grabbed his arm again.
“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t think it would bother you, I thought you would actually like it, y’know considering I was flirting with you.” Gally’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
“Oh my god,” Y/n laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious?”
“Kinda hard to pay attention to that when things need to get done,” Gally cleared his throat, trying his hardest to hide the smile that was forming on his face.
“Oh don’t act like you weren’t blushing the whole time you- oh my god you’re even blushing right now!” She laughed.
“Shh, no I’m not,” Gally smiled back at her, the blush returning to his cheeks.
“You are! Gally’s blushing! Gally’s blu-” Y/n called when she was cut off.
Gally’s lips crashed into hers as his hand moved to her cheeks. Y/n closed her eyes and sunk into the kiss, bringing her arms around his neck. When Gally pulled away first, y/n smiled.
“What was that for?” She breathed.
“To shut you up,” Gally smiled. He looked to her lips and back to her eyes. “And also because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
#gally imagine#gally one shot#gally maze runner#gally fluff#tmr gally#gally x y/n#gally#gally x reader#mazerunner#will poulter#fanfic#fiction#romance#writing#wattpad#gally tmr x reader#gally tmr#tmr smut#gally smut#will poulter smut
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ENTRY #6 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I open my eyes, of you I'm aware, I lower my guards, strip myself bare.
contents: arranged marriage!au — wc. 1028
series masterlist
There were many molds Satoru had to morph himself to somehow fit into and more often than not, he was squeezing in just barely — just enough to get people off his back. He had to work with people he didn’t like, negotiate with clans he couldn’t stand and face higher-ups that he felt nothing but hate towards. Gojo was no stranger to taking orders he didn’t agree with — back in time when he wasn’t exactly who he is right now. A stubborn man, above most jurisdiction. A man of independence, someone who won’t bend and break to fulfill instructions that do not fit into his beliefs.
Maybe he was too old now or maybe he defamiliarized himself with the art of adjustment to someone else’s decision, but few months had passed and he still couldn’t get used to you.
Whenever Satoru looked at you, he felt as if he was looking at the sun — despite wearing a blindfold or dark glasses. There was a brightness in your aura, a warmth and yet you were so distant and far from him. You were a puzzle he struggled to solve and he blamed it on himself because not once in his life he had to accustom himself to be a husband.
You’ve got him doubting himself.
You’ve got him scared.
You’ve got his heart beat in ways he never experienced before.
You’ve got him longing.
It was terrifying, as he thought of it, whenever he was watching you from afar, and you were just there. In the same house as him, sleeping just few meters away, allowing yourself to lower your guards and Satoru felt dread filling his veins when he realized he was expected to lower his own too. To strip himself from the protective barrier he put so much effort and time to build. To just be there with you, not just somewhere in the same space.
But he was getting there.
It began with him offering you help — little house chores he took upon himself to make your life easier and at first he made it look as if it annoyed him. Maybe it did annoy him. Snarky comments and lowercase insults dressed in overly sweetened words, pet-names spoken in tone full of venom — all that made the daily routine with you and those verbal tug-of-wars taught him respect towards you. You were strong enough and brave enough to engage in the word-fights with him and in retrospect, those were what helped both you and him adapt to the new reality of being married.
“Can you help me with those bags, Satoru?”
“You’ve got legs, sweetheart, you can do this yourself.”
“Move from the damn couch, Gojo, and make yourself useful.”
“Last name, huh? You spoke it with so much venom, I’d figure you hate it if you it wasn’t yours as well.”
“Come here, darling, and help me with those bags.”
And then, Satoru learned what you wanted his help with. He observed what things you didn’t like doing and began doing them himself. It felt natural. A place he was obliged to move into slowly became a house he was walking towards every day with a strange feeling of warmth in his chest, because it was where he will be able to rest, to decompress. It was a place where he will eat or sleep. It was a place where he’ll see you.
Next thing Gojo worked on was infinity. Or rather, turning it off and he had to actively think of it whenever he was home. Few times you tried to touch him and couldn’t made him feel the sort of shame he never felt before. He was so used to always being protected that when he had to face you, he didn’t realize that he doesn’t need to protect himself from you. So he took it off, baring himself before you and allowing himself to get familiar with the soft, cold pads of your fingers. With the way your breath feels on his skin — hot and intimate — and the way your lips feel on his own.
Then it became unconscious for him to turn off his technique the moment he steps into the house.
Then he was catching himself staring. His eyes lingered on you a little too long, a little too intense and whenever you noticed, he found himself flustered. Hmpf-ing and turning his head away, ignoring the muffled chuckles you always tried to suppress and then, he was smiling too.
Then, he was missing the soft, sweet and floral scent of your perfume whenever he was away for work.
Then, he was replaying the gentle tone of your voice in his mind, finding solace in the memory.
And then—
“Satoru, come to bed.”
—he was caught off guard yet again.
But he moved. A subconscious sequence of muscle contractions and releases, some taken steps and climbed up stairs — all of which led him to a place he had been avoiding for all of the weeks, months, that passed since he vowed himself to you.
“It’s big enough, just–“ your voice was gentle, so very gentle, when you got under the covers first. In the make-shift pajama he recognized as one of his own t-shirts — way too expensive to be a sleeping attire, yet he couldn’t care less. “Just sleep here. You don’t have to sleep on the couch, uncomfortable every night.”
And so he did. Half-bare, as he was used to sleep, he allowed himself to rest next to you. His weight sunk into the soft mattress, his bones straightened up deliciously in the heavenly cocoon of cotton sheets, all scented just slightly with the washing detergents and your perfume. A sigh escaped his mouth, he melted into the luxury of the bed and nuzzled his cheek into one of the pillows.
“Good?”
“Very good,” he admitted, his eyes following the up of your hip and down of your waist, then again up along the curve of your shoulder until he finally looked at your face. Your eyes were already closed, your eyelids covering the beautiful color underneath them and it was a shame he couldn’t see it before he lowered his own. “Goodnight.”
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anywhere else is hollow || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings & tags: mostly fluff, some angst because it's sweet home, sharing a bed.
first one-shot · previous one-shot
A/N: Third entrance for @neohumanmonster's fandom event! The prompt was: Peaceful Pillowtalk. For context, reader and Hyun-Su were in high school together, reader was only there for a year before going to another high school, and therefore has no knowledge of the bullying which hyun-su was a victim of. this one-shot can be read independently (there's nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts), but I do recommend reading them for context.
Hyun-Su stays over at your place quite often now. Long gone are the days when he would drop by for no more than a couple of hours and flee the scene, as though he was scared that you spending time with him would make you despise him. Now he helps you out around the house, and, when he offers, the two of you go out on ‘dates’ around the city. It still makes you nervous, being out in the open, but Hyun-Su doesn’t hesitate anymore to take your hand in his and guide you through the empty streets.
When you’re both in your apartment, you can almost tell yourself you’re two college students living together. Almost. If it wasn’t for your blinds being always drawn to ensure no monsters could see you from outside, or your parents’ former room being turned into a laboratory by your dad before his disappearance, the illusion would be close to perfect. You do like the thought of it. Imagining you and Hyun-Su, sharing a place in a world where the Apocalypse hadn’t happened… It would be sweet.
That being said, despite your developing relationship, that you still haven’t put words on, Hyun-Su keeps sleeping on the sofa. You’d prepared a blanket and a pillow, ‘just in case’, in the very beginning, and that is where he still collapses every night. You’ve been waiting, hoping he would ask for another— arrangement, but he hasn’t said anything, and now you’re wondering if you should.
It isn’t always easy, being the one taking all the steps in the relationship. Makes you wonder if you’re pushing too much, too fast, makes you wonder how much he wants it. And yet, if he does want it but doesn’t dare to ask, how stupid would it be to lose that much time, when you never know how long you have?
“Um, Hyun-Su?” you say that night, as you’re about to leave for your room. He looks up at you with these beautiful dark eyes of his. “I was just thinking— you know you don��t have to sleep here, right?”
He blinks at you.
“Do you— are you asking me to leave?” he asks, and you immediately want to slap yourself. A few months ago, you think he’d have been half-way to the door already. Now, he sounds cautious and a little worried, but he doesn’t seem to have jumped to conclusions just yet.
“No,” you sigh, resisting the urge to bang your head against the door frame because, yeah, it makes sense he’d interpret it like that. “No, I just meant you could, uh—” you glance towards your room. “Just meant you have other options. Here. If you— if you want to.”
You don’t know why you’re so nervous all of sudden. You think a part of you cannot forget how beloved Hyun-Su was in high school, while you were— no one. If the world wasn’t ending, you don’t think he would have looked at you twice. So, sometimes, you wonder if he wants you the same way you want him. It doesn’t help that he doesn’t initiate much of your more intimate moments, and isn’t much of a talker in general.
Hyun-Su’s eyes slowly move to the open door to your room, then move back to you, going wide.
“Are you—” His voice cracks. “Are you sure?”
You nod, not really trusting yourself with words right now. You don’t want to sound desperate for affection, but you also don’t want, even for a second, to make it sound like it’s something you’re nonchalant about.
“Okay,” Hyun-Su mumbles. “Okay.”
He gets up from the couch, walks over to the door, where you’re still standing. You’re both quiet when you take his hand in yours and pull him towards the bed. It feels awkward, but you don’t have enough experience with this sort of thing to tell if that’s how it’s supposed to be.
For a while, you just stay laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, with Hyun-Su doing the same thing next to you. The atmosphere feels heavy, your whole body warm and tingling. This is all just so new to you. There have been lots of moments between the two of you, mostly spontaneous, just doing what felt right in the moment. This is different, probably because you asked, and you’re not sure what to do with it.
After a while, you roll over on your side, looking at Hyun-Su’s profile, until he turns his head to look at you. You press your lips together. Your mind is going into overdrive, trying to figure something to say — what do you even say in these circumstances? You’re drawing a blank. At least until Hyun-Su raises a hand and his fingers start slowly tracing your cheekbone, then your jaw.
You feel your breath catching in your throat, and your lips part as you do your best to keep yourself perfectly still. It’s like you’re finally being approached by a shy cat that you’re trying not to scare away.
Gently, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, soft voice echoing in the dark.
Afraid of what? Of him? Of someone who touches you like you’re made of porcelain?
“No,” you answer.
For a while, there’s just the sound of the two of you breathing, and the feeling of his hand on your cheek.
“What if I hurt you?” he asks finally, voice weak and fragile.
“You wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
You swallow. You know he can feel it.
“Yes, I do,” you whisper, and you genuinely believe it to be true.
Hyun-Su’s hand stills. You hear him breathe out, before there’s the sound of rustling and then the feeling of his lips on yours. As usual with him, the kiss is brief and soft, a simple press of his lips against your own. What follows isn’t usual, though, the way he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest, so he can put his chin on top of your head. It has your heart beating erratically, even if it’s not the first time he’s that close to you.
It’s just that that happens mostly when the two of you are kissing. The fact that he’s seeking that kind of closeness without that happening is a whole other kind of intimacy, one that almost makes you shiver.
“Is that okay too?” he checks. “You— said I didn’t need to ask, but…”
“It’s more than okay,” you answer, closing one arm around him however you can. “And I meant it when I said that.”
“I—” A sigh. “I don’t want to impose on you. Sometimes I— I feel like I need you too much.”
It becomes hard to breathe all of a sudden. Hyun-Su isn’t one for that kind of confession, not usually, but you desperately want to hear more. He keeps talking, and you feel his voice rumble through his chest and through you, while he plays with your hair distractedly.
“You’re so— independent. You look like you’re doing so well on your own, here. But it physically hurts to be away from you,” he mumbles into your hair. “But I— know what I am. I never want you to think you can’t— can’t push me away because you’re scared of that— that part of me.”
Your eyes sting, and you hold him a little tighter against you.
“I know who you are, too, Hyun-Su. And I don’t want to push you away.”
“Not now,” he admits. “But if one day—”
“Hyun-Su,” you call softly, trying to get his attention back on you instead of this distant, nebulous future. You live in a world where you may not know tomorrow, where a simple infection could be the end, not to mention the ever looming threat of monsterization taking you over. “I want you here. With me. I promise.”
Finally, you seem to be getting through to him. He relaxes into you, and his breathing turns deeper, more even.
“This feels nice,” he whispers after a while, and you smile against his skin.
“It does.”
You drift into sleep not long after that, you think, and for the first time in forever, you don’t wake throughout the night, startled by the smallest sound.
You just feel safe.
i hope you liked this one! i love developing reader and hyun-su's relationship through small steps, but just to let you know, we're getting closer to some smut taking place 👀 i hope people won't feel let down by that. i do think it would be out of character to write something super intense for them at that point so don't expect anything hardcore, but the 'porn with feelings' tag on ao3 is my shit so if you like that you might find something to enjoy in there! okay i think i'm done with this lil ramble.
Comments, whether here, in the tags or in a reblog, are greatly appreciated! interactions really motivate me and keep me writing :)
next part
#hyun su x reader#cha hyun su x reader#sweet home#sweet home netflix#cha hyun su#sweet home x reader#sweet home season 2#cha hyunsoo#cha hyunsoo x reader#hyunsoo x reader#sweet home imagine#sweet home fanfic#my writing
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Underneath the Christmas Tree
You and König got into a fight when you realized what time of the year it was. He tries to make it up to you.
Characters: Yandere!König x Reader Fandom: Call of Duty Warnings: Yandere, Mentions of Violence, Building Stockholm Syndrom, Mentions of being tied up/ropes
a/n: Late as can be, but my little present to you guys! I hope that everyone got to eat yummy food and experience joy regardless of celebrations last year ♥ (Translations to the German words are below!)
"Mein Herz... are you awake?"
Sometimes, you wondered how a man of his stature could make so little noise. You were never able to notice him until he had already crept up to you. It had always been this way. You felt like you had only just closed your eyes, barely dozing off, when he startled you with his presence next to you. After all the screaming and crying, you had managed to scare him off, but it felt like only minutes had passed since he left.
The rope around your wrist tightened as you stirred, startled by his voice and the touch of his palm at your cheek, his thumb caressing you gently as you were torn out of your sleep. You felt groggy and tired, but almost instantly, the irritation with him returned to your mind, mixing with the pain as the rope cut into your skin.
However, even with your eyes wide open, your mind needed a moment to focus, the room having turned darker than it was a few minutes ago. Had it really been minutes? Or hours? Did you fall asleep for the whole day, exhausted from your outburst?
You cursed under your breath, your mouth dry like sand. More pain shot through your arms as you tried to move, your expression twisting when König's chest suddenly hovered over you, his gloved fingers dancing all over your hands and arms, too anxious to touch but too scared to keep you in pain.
"Here, let me," he mumbled, concentrating on the knot he made. Even he had to focus when undoing his own work, his methods too skilled for even his own good. But the relief, as your arms sacked to the mattress of his bed, was almost too good; your body lulled back into relaxing now that the strain subsided. Your eyes were already closing when he spoke up, alerting you to the danger you were in.
"Better?" König asked, almost sounding smug about it like he expected to hear praise from you for doing the right thing. It would have almost shown his compassion had it not been him who put you into the restraint in the first place.
"Guess," you contered, and you two fell into silence as you stared at each other. The fabric covering his face made his eyes all the more piercing in the moonlight shining in through the window. He was the first to avoid his eyes—a meaningless victory with a man who went from Colonel to shy schoolboy at the sight of your face on the regular.
"I thought about what you said, and I think you're right."
"The bit about Christmas? Ugh..."
Pulling your arms to your chest, you felt the heaviness that had settled into your muscles, which had been a few hours long enough to make them stiff as boards. You examined your bruised and swollen, at times bloody, wrists as good as you could in the moonlight, but feeling the wet smears on your fingers and the burn of pain when you inspected them, you eventually resigned to sitting up and resting them in your lap.
It wasn't long before König reached out to have a look at your wrists as well, gently turning them over a few times to take note of all the damage he had done to you, every fiber of your being blaming him and refusing to take even an ounce of it despite the fact you were the one fighting against the ropes that he put you in. Everything was his fault, and you had no problem telling him that at every chance you got.
"Yeah... about your family and traditions."
This was new.
Usually, König would try to change the subject as best as he could when it became uncomfortable for him—and all your complaints and demands, reasonable as they were, were uncomfortable. König always found ways to try and tell you how much better this situation was without really confirming or denying your feelings, even though his attempts at convincing you otherwise were fruitless. So, hearing him talk about what he desperately tried to avoid... was new. Progress.
"So you'll let me go?"
Silence. Wringing his hands in his lap after releasing yours, König stared at the floor beneath his feet, sitting on the edge of the bed like a scolded puppy. "No..." he mumbled, and you felt the surprise turn back into anger, your body finding the strength to straighten up and get ready to argue again.
"But!" he intercepted, noticing the changes in you and holding up a finger to silence you before you could explode at him again. "Schatz, hear me out before you say something, bitte!"
"Go on then..."
It was hard to keep your composure when what you really would have liked to attempt was to tear his head off in any way possible. Somewhere under the obvious shirt he was wearing, there must have been a head you could either curse at or try to break the neck off. However, you refrained, a small part of you still hoping to find a peaceful solution that would let you escape unscathed. You were at a physical disadvantage, and hurting his feelings had never been a very wise choice either. For someone who quickly became overwhelmed and shy around you, König was an expert at kidnapping and stringing you up, knocking you out, and putting his hands where they didn't belong. Even if he seemed to regret his outbursts afterward.
"I can't let you go, I just... It's not possible. It's not safe. I hope you can understand that I can't do it."
Opening your mouth was all that was needed to have König scramble, his words tumbling over each other as he tried to form his thoughts into a sentence. One that would soothe you. One that would put him into good graces with you. Sometimes you wondered if he forgot how to be the scary guy that kidnapped you. Who stood still and menacing by your side, watching you sleep without an ounce of shame or manners. But then again, you were glad that bruises and self-inflicted wounds were all you had to suffer from. Even if he tried to be gentle, you knew his hands could cause more harm than good to you. The thought of what all they could ruin was more terrifying than being kidnapped was.
"But- I- Well, I thought we- I'm your family now, so... About today— Scheiße... Christmas, I can give you that."
"Christmas?" Cocking your eyebrow, you watched him nervously crush his thumb in his palm, unable to maintain eye contact with you even though König kept glancing at you from the corners of his eyes.
"It's been a while for me, so it's probably not much. But I... I want to show you I care—about you! About us. I didn't consider that these holidays would mean so much to you, and I'm sorry."
König got up before you could think of a reply. He barely turned towards you, his body tense, hands curled into fists. Nervous. You knew all the telltale signs of his anxiety, considering there was nothing better to do in his apartment than to study him when he was around and you two weren't fighting. But this time, as secretive as he was, it made you almost curious as to why.
"If you want to, you can come to the living room. I'd be happy if you did."
With that, he left the bedroom, leaving you behind with the door wide open. You knew the layout of his small apartment, but you were contained in this room most of the time without the chance of walking through this door without König. Apprehensive, you got out of bed, feeling the cold floor underneath your feet, causing you to tense. Your soles tingled, almost burning from the cold, and you hesitated. It felt wrong to walk around freely, even though it was what you desired most. Freedom.
You had to cross the hallway to get to the living room, passing by the bath and entrance door. This all felt unreal. Like König was going to stand behind you any second now, asking where you were going and dragging you back to his bed, chaining you up and leaving you there to scream and cry. But he wasn't. You could hear him moving around in the living room—probably pacing—wondering if you were going to come.
There was much to consider. Did you need to use the toilet? Take a shower? Was the front door unlocked?
Your brain was screaming Idiot! at you for even thinking you could make a run for it. But you'd never give up the fight, you swore yourself. Even when you knew he'd easily catch up to you, knock you out, and tie you up, dragging you back to the apartment. You still reached for the door handle, pushing it down and giving it a firm tug!
...
The sturdy lock held on tight to the door, and you wondered what you were expecting.
Your hand fell to your side, and you took a step back. The disappointment and frustration were mere zaps going through your body, not even enough to sway you. What did you expect? That König would leave it open? After all that he did to you?
When you looked up at the living room door, your eyes met his, sparks of hurt hiding in the shadows over his face, disappearing the second König turned away, returning to the living room and leaving you alone again. As if he couldn't bear to watch a second more of your betrayal. There was no need to speak about what happened, about the feelings going through both of you. Neither of you talked about the taboo that the front door upheld—you, the prisoner, and he, your kidnapper and stalker. A love leading to nothing but suffering and destruction. He left the scene after making sure you were safe. That was all that mattered, even if your attempt to leave cut deep into his heart.
A quiet, surrendering sigh escaped you before you turned towards the living room once more. The bath was still an option. You could have gone there, locked the door, taken a shower, and hid from your captor until he couldn't bear it anymore and removed the door that separated you two. But fighting him this morning had worn you down, so provoking and refusing something seemingly harmless like an invitation to the living room seemed silly even to you. Certainly, it would have hurt König, and you liked that idea, but what about yourself? Could you have lived with what hurting him would have meant for you?
Deep inside yourself, you realize you were just trying to justify your curiosity. Escaping would always be your number one priority, but at the same time, you couldn't help being curious about what he had prepared. Being locked in the same room day in and day out was so boring, and even if it was a setup for disappointment, it was still better than pouting by yourself in the bath, trying to fight him for no other reason than spite and hurting both of you in the process.
But you didn't tell yourself that. You told yourself it was an order from him, and you didn't want to be punished for disobeying. That was enough to justify your actions to yourself rather than admit that you were curious about something he did. You led yourself along the wall, hesitant but complacent with König's wishes—at least for now. Just for today.
Warm lights enveloped you the moment you stepped into the doorframe. Christmas lights - green, yellow, red - twinkled from a string of lights pinned to the ceiling, while the old (although decorated with fake greenery) lamp added a cozy, warm glow. The table was decorated with a table runner, candles, little pine cones, and a big wreath with burning candles, plates and cutlery set like you'd see in a restaurant.
Most surprisingly, however, was the Christmas tree set up next to the couch. Given it was barely the size from the floor to your hips. But König had perched the tree on a little stool and hung it with baubles and little figure ornaments like a nutcracker and Santa Claus' hat. It was nowhere near tidy or uniform like you knew from home, with different colors mixing and not always going well with each other. It seemed like it had been hastily put together with whatever he could grab. But in its odd way, it was an endearing sight to behold.
Underneath it, wrapped presents in various shapes piled, their wrapping paper glistening in the lights. Some were easy to figure out, like books. But others had a generic box shape that wasn't very precise on what the present would be. Honestly, you were astounded, barely able to say anything with your mouth open in surprise. König never had a lot of decoration around his home, and standing in an all-out Christmas wonderland was almost uncomfortable after getting used to white walls and unintentional minimalism.
On the other hand, König looked so out of place, like a black hole in the middle of a Christmas market. He stopped pacing—moving, entirely so—the moment your presence came into view. There was a moment of awkward silence between you two, his hands tensing and relaxing, ever so often curling into fists as he waited for you to say something.
"So, do you like-?"
"Wow, that's-"
More awkward silence followed as you both started and stopped your sentences. But eventually, it was König who broke it, stepping aside and inviting you in with a slight wave of his hand. "I hope you like it. I didn't have much time, so it's messy. Probably not how you'd do it, but next year, we can do it how you want to. We could go shopping or—"
Cutting himself off, he seemed to be biting his own tongue. There was no guarantee that you'd have a next year. That you'd go out with him to buy decorations or you two would be close enough to celebrate like this again. Nothing was truly certain in this weird relationship you had.
But he tried. He really did.
And it almost made you cry.
"I... uhm," you quickly turned away when you heard your own voice shake, wiping at your eyes and praying that this strange feeling of happiness that overcame you would pass, returning your anger and defiance to you instead. "It's... alright. It's fine."
That was a lie. It was not fine; not alright. It was wrong. Downright awful and manipulative. You should have been hating on it, cursing him out for trying to take advantage of your longing to make himself look better. It was cruel and heartless, and you liked the feeling of normalcy so much that you wished it would stay forever. At that moment, you wished he was your boyfriend that you loved, and you were just a couple celebrating the holidays. A moment of normalcy was worth more than your defiance. And it made you hate the person you felt yourself becoming in that stupid Christmas room.
König's shoulders lost some of their tension, his equivalent of a smile. This time, when he waved you closer, focusing on the tree he had put up, he seemed excited. "Komm!" he said, and you felt your heart leap with the same excitement that swung in his voice, his happiness contagious. Saying "it's fine" seemed to have been enough for him, König being ever so undemanding when it came to your affection.
König knelt next to the tree, still just as tall as it despite being brought down a notch, patting the couch beside him. You tiptoed your way around the man, half expecting him to jump up and attack you as you passed by his back, but he didn't. Taking a seat, you curiously stretched your neck to see what he was doing. After briefly combing through the presents, König picked out one wrapped in green, glittery paper, handing it to you before sitting down on the floor at your feet, watching you expectantly.
You could feel the book's hardcover without seeing it, glancing at König briefly before unwrapping it. Forthcame the cover of the last book you had been reading before your life went downhill. It wasn't the same copy, still smelling new, and its spine wasn't broken from being read in awkward positions. For a moment, it felt unreal that he would know how much you had longed to learn how it ended, thinking about it a lot in the most boring of afternoons. But then it reminded you of how he tore you out of your life and destroyed it with his actions. How was this a small compensation for all the bad things?
But you'd still read it.
Pressing it to your chest, you swallowed back the tears, giving a fake yet confident nod of approval. Your body language was good enough for König, even if he noticed the hints of tears in your eyes, and he handed you the next present with an encouraging hum. You went through many more wrapped presents like this—more books, movies, sweets, a back warmer and a teddy bear, and so many more things you enjoyed. You eventually ended up on the ground next to König, your knees touching while you were occupied with opening and awing at all your presents.
It was just you two, and the apartment was quiet but peaceful, unlike the constant screaming and pain that usually resided in it. The bitter truth was that despite being unusual, things could almost look normal.
So when he slipped his hand over yours, and you didn't flinch away, the silence felt more awkward than it felt right. It was like two lovers exchanging a moment of gentle togetherness in a world that was so cruel to them—a world you weren't in voluntarily but a world that König wanted this way. You couldn't bear it. Bear the thought of this being acceptable.
So you pulled away, hugging the teddy bear in your lap and looking at the pile of gifts. "I've got nothing for you," you commiserated, politeness being the only thing you could procure to avoid destroying the peace you two had for once.
"I've got all I need," König replied gently, and you forced yourself to look back at him. His gaze was soft, lights sparkling in his eyes as they moved from you to his hand, reaching out to you once more. He was getting greedy, pushing your boundaries for just one more touch. "Just you and me, right here. Under the Christmas tree. I'll not ask for more than that from you."
It would have been the perfect moment to rebuke him, to hurt him and stab the figurative knife into his heart by telling him you didn't feel this way. It would have been enough to tell him how you felt truthfully that you still hated him. But for some reason, you remained silent, allowing him this moment of disillusionment that you two were finally warming up to each other.
It was simply too painful to admit to yourself that you were.
"Are you hungry?"
König snapped out of it faster than you. Unusual as he could be quite stuck in his lovey-dovey ways. "I got us takeout; just have to reheat it. I hope you like Christmas food because I got us everything."
Heaving his body forward, he got back on his knees but hesitated for a moment before standing up. You didn't look at him or say anything, tensing when you heard his breath next to your ear. His actions made you want to fight him again, every fiber of your being rejecting him and his ideas of love. But not on that day. Maybe you didn't want to ruin it, no matter how disgusted you were with him and yourself.
The kiss that fell on top of your head lingered for seconds too long. It was as if he was trying to get on your nerves, though more realistically, he was merely basking in the opportunities you granted him. His lips felt gross despite your hair and his mask being in the way. Yet you let him.
"Frohe Weihnachten, mein Schatz," he uttered into the kiss before finally pulling away, standing up and heading straight for the kitchen. Soon, the room was filled with the smells of a roast in the oven and sides cooking on the stove while you remained where you were, sitting there like an unopened present waiting for him to return.
Your face burned as your heart swelled with affection for the man you hated the most. The man who gave you what you wanted despite having to scramble to pull off a Christmas like no other. Who loved you unconditionally. Loved you so much despite all the bad things you said to him. Who would move the world to make you happy, even though he refused to do it under normal circumstances. The only person you had left who cared so much about you, stalking you to the point of knowing the kinds of books you liked, movies, treats, and your favorite things, presenting them all to you for just a moment by your side in return.
You were disgusted and appalled by everything and yourself. But without realizing it, you started to question your feelings for König as you hid your face in the soft, plush body of his gift.
And what more could he ask for as a present than you—in doubt and foolishly falling in love with the idea of him in your head—underneath his Christmas tree?
Mein Herz - My heart Schatz - Treasure (Equivalent to nicknames like Dear/Darling/Love) Bitte - Please Scheiße - Shit Komm - Come (in this context like “Come here”) Frohe Weihnachten, mein Schatz - Merry Christmas, my Love
#König#yandere könig#yandere!könig#cod#yandere cod#yandere!cod#call of duty#yandere call of duty#yandere!call of duty#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere stories#yandere oneshots#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW
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Chapter 24
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Poorly written smut; pregnancy hormones absolutely get a warning
A/N: I kinda love this chapter.
There was a chill in the house without a fire being burned overnight. Too many walkers made the light a liability. You had your leggings and a pair of sweats, a long sleeve shirt and a sweater, your two pairs of socks, and your jacket. Carol was going to sleep next to you while Daryl took his turn on watch that night. The woman was the complete opposite of your partner. She was a human icebox. “Jesus, Carol, your hands are freezing!” You could feel the frigid skin beneath the fabric of her gloves. “Here, put them inside my coat.” She was shaking her head even as you guided her hands under either of your arms, shivering from the sudden cold where you were much warmer. Maybe you’d tell Daryl she was staying next to you when he came to lie down. Sure, he’d grumble and groan, but he’d never let Carol freeze.
“Thank you.” The other woman sighed, moving a little closer to you. The archer had tucked the blankets around you before you had invited Carol to share.
“You’re welcome. Do you have enough of the blanket?” She nodded and snuggled against you, full on laughing when the baby gave her a swift punch to the midsection. “Yeah, sorry. Thumper is lively tonight.” You twisted your head around as far as you could manage to ensure no one had been disturbed.
“Don’t apologize. Probably just knows I’m not daddy and isn’t happy about that.”
She was absolutely right. At 34 weeks, the baby seemed to sense when Daryl was around, just as he seemed to know just when to put his hand over the swell to calm them. Moving from place to place was getting harder and harder for you. The groups of walkers seemed to be everywhere, each town full of the people who had tried to persevere, only to become one of the dead. Sometimes you would find a place, settle in, only to run two hours later. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, and Thumper could feel it. The baby would move relentlessly, only adding fuel to your anxiety and making rest impossible.
Until Daryl would intervene.
It started the same night he had first taken the weight of the baby for you.
Daryl stood there with you for at least an hour, bracing you against him and giving your bones and muscles a well deserved break. When he began to tire, he simply walked backwards to lean against the wall. It wasn’t until you were nearly falling asleep, he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroll, an extra blanket on top of it to give your body some support. He was expected to take watch soon but they would come collect him when it was time. So he crawled under another blanket with you, molding himself around your back, still without a single word. You were warm and felt safe, but once you had tried to sleep, Thumper became restless; rolling and kicking until you were nearly sobbing with exhaustion.
“Baby, please, mama’s so tired. Please, just—”
“Listen, kid.” You had barely registered that Daryl had moved at all, holding himself up on one hand while he leaned over your side, the other hand planted firmly on your round abdomen. The tone he used was one you hadn’t heard from him before: soft but serious, no nonsense but comforting. “Ya gotta give your mama a break. World ain’t great out here right now, an’ she needs to sleep. I promise ya ain’t gotta be scared or—or nervous. M’gonna make sure you an’ your mama are safe.” You didn’t say anything, didn’t move, barely breathed. While the baby didn’t go still, the movements calmed to flutters and ripples. “There ya go.” When he started to lie back, he caught the look on your face and flushed, ducking his head. “Book says they can hear ya. Thought it might help.”
His damn books. You could kick yourself for how frustrated you’d get with him when he only ever used the knowledge for your benefit. “It did. My god, you’re the baby whisperer.” You smiled, snuggling against him. “You’re gonna be the best daddy, Daryl. I hope you know that.” You were met with nothing more than his breath against the back of your neck. “I love you.” There was a flex of his fingers on your stomach, proving he was awake. You never said it with the expectation of him saying it back. It was simply part of your process to continue reassuring him that this was his family. He had a partner and a child, both who adored him. With your hand on top of his, the three of you slept.
No one woke him for watch.
He talked to the baby constantly now. Not one of those dads that used your bump as a pillow and had full conversations with the fetus, but would check in, let the baby know what he was doing. Whether a boy or a girl, Thumper definitely already favored their daddy. That was something with which you were fine. You wanted their relationship to be special. You weren’t afraid of not bonding with your child, but worried that Daryl feared he would never do so himself. That he might even let that fear sabotage him.
As if keeping time inside your womb, the strong movements intensified, Thumper now expecting the presence of their father; demanding it, even. With a sigh, you opened your eyes. Carol wasn’t asleep, but smiling tenderly, finally having found some warmth even if it meant cage fighting with your unborn child.
“S’this?” Came a rough whisper from above. You simply rolled your head to meet Daryl’s curious gaze and caught Carol’s elbow when she immediately tried to remove herself from the equation.
“Carol’s cold and Thumper says you’re late.” To the other woman, the archer probably looked angry but you knew that look. The furrowed brow and squinted eyes.
“Well, ya gonna make room or what?”
He didn’t like the idea of Carol in his space. He didn't need to vocalize that, and he didn’t. Carol removed herself almost completely but didn’t attempt to find somewhere when she found you watching her. You knew she’d try if only to ease Daryl’s discomfort. You weren’t thrilled that he’d be ill at ease but Carol needed to be warm and the man was literally a walking fireplace. You’d be between them, looking at him, while the three of you shared warmth.
It took a good amount of effort—and Daryl’s assistance—for you to roll over. The woman now at your back was whispering apologies at not being the one to move when you waved a hand at her.
“Just lay down, Carol.” You laughed as quietly as you could manage. “Snuggle as close as you can to me, okay?” Her blue eyes lifted to Daryl, now propped on his elbow in front of you. He gave her a nod before you felt the blankets being arranged and her front against your back. Her presence didn’t bother you at all. And you could have told her that Daryl would have never let her lie where he was anyway. It would mean there was a door behind you and he never let there be a way for a threat to get you without going through him. You were too tired and ready to snuggle into a warm chest. You could tell her the next day. When everyone was settled and still, you smiled tiredly at him. “Hi.”
He didn’t get to answer before practically your entire stomach shifted with Thumper’s movement. “S’like watching a fuckin’ alien movie.” Daryl grunted, fingers working down the zipper of your jacket enough to slip his hand inside and splay his fingers open across your belly.
“Don’t say that.” You whined. Your nightmares had been plagued with imagery of a walker baby gnawing its way from your womb. You hadn’t told him about the dreams, didn’t want to put the idea in his head that it was even a possibility. True to Dixon form, however, he surprised you.
“I think ‘bout it too.” He whispered, his hand gliding back over forth over your abdomen. “Wouldn’t be no heartbeat when Hershel checks ‘em though an’ s’there. Everyday.” You sighed deeply, smiling like a lovesick idiot and snuggling against his chest while your baby already began to settle beneath his palm. “What?”
“Just thanking my lucky stars, as my daddy would suggest at this moment.”
Daryl snorted. “What for?”
Carol shifted at your back and hummed in her sleep, her body already warm against you. “You. Thumper. This little family.” You wanted to be closer to him but without crawling under his skin, it wouldn’t be possible. And yet you were wrong. Daryl moved, angling his hip toward you so the weight of the baby could rest on him instead of pulling toward the floor. From that position, you were able to press almost flatly against his chest in complete relaxation. “Goddamnit, Daryl Dixon, I fucking love you.”
He hummed, nuzzling his cheek against your head. “So ya keep sayin’.”
“And I’ll keep saying it, too. Get used to it.”
Another day, another drive. It was cold. The breeze from Daryl’s window wasn’t helping anything, but you dared not speak it. Even with the ventilation, all you could smell was the burning tobacco. Why the man would be smoking after pneumonia nearly killed him was something you probably would never understand. Regardless, he was considerate about it. He always made sure the smoke was never blowing in your direction. It wasn’t even something that you found unappealing. Quite the opposite. Daryl made smoking look like less of a habit and more of something that was just a natural part of him. Even with your super senses, the smell didn’t bother you. It never had.
And it wasn’t bothering you at the moment either, but that didn’t matter. He was.
“You realize that you nearly drowned from fluid in your lungs just a few weeks ago, right?” It was a jab, unnecessary and was meant to make you feel better, but couldn’t have been further away from that result. Absolutely no one would have missed the way he clenched his jaw, barely relaxing it enough for the next drag.
“Ya realize that bein’ pregnant ain’t a excuse to be a bitch all’a the time, right?” There was an immediate spasm of regret in his expression, his hand tightening on the wheel. “Didn’t mean that. M’sorry.” Kudos to Daryl for not holding in an apology after snapping, even if the apology wasn’t need because he was 100% correct. You slumped down in the seat. One hand rubbed your itchy belly while the other reached for his forearm and squeezed it gently until his grip loosened.
“Don’t apologize. I deserved that.” You knew full well that you were being unbearable, even if it was something beyond your control at points. You had laid into the poor man for commenting that he should go through the bags and grab you a larger sweater because you looked uncomfortable in the one that now had to stretch to accommodate the changes in your body. He hadn’t argued when you called him an inconsiderate dick and spewed off anger and insults that you couldn’t even recall.
“Nah.” He flicked the cigarette out the window. “Don’t ever deserve me or anyone else talkin’ to ya like that, pregnant or not.” Those pretty blue eyes were catching the sun just right to give them a crystal shine as he watched the road. You didn’t miss the way they flitted down to your hand still on his arm, nor did you miss his left hand start to move toward it but retract.
You gave him a smile, one that he began to fidget underneath. With a jerk upward of his arm, he prompted you to let go. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you looked away, picking absently at the front of the oversized sweater he had dug out for you regardless of your tantrum.
Five and a half weeks left before you’d be roughly around forty weeks, which meant you could safely go into labor after the next week or so. While you were thrilled at the prospect of meeting Thumper, you were terrified of giving birth. So much could go wrong and there just wasn't the available equipment to ensure either comfort or safety. The thought of battling through without even the option of pain relief was daunting. You’d seen the movies, and though Lori had assured you they were all on the dramatic side, she did warn you that contractions were not still not fun. She refused to go through her birth story, wary of aggravating your nerves even more. She did add that every woman’s body was different and she couldn’t tell you much more than that.
So what did you do? Naturally, you grabbed up one of Daryl’s books. You had placed it back in his bag after only two pages, fear doubling with anxiety to tag team in constricting your chest. He wasn’t any help, having no time to read lately. He was going by Lori’s advice and what he was learning from your cues. He was doing the best he could and you were thankful for him, even if you didn’t always show it.
Glancing over at him, slouched behind the wheel with his left thumb dragging back and forth over his bottom lip, you felt a pulse between your legs. Even with that god awful poncho, he was so fucking attractive. You’d barely let him touch you recently. He never seemed upset about it, always just pulling you closer after the initial don’t touch me had worn off. He never tried again, never questioned. Just rolling with the punches to ensure you had what you needed.
And at that very moment, your body was screaming that you needed him.
“Daryl.”
“Hmm?” He didn’t look over but your tone was level, seemingly unbothered.
“I need you to pull over.” You licked your lips but he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did. The man had an eagle eye and an elephant brain. He glanced at you and then back to the road.
“Gotta piss again?”
Charming. “Yeah.” He always went with you now, standing on the other side of the tree so you didn’t feel like he had followed you into the bathroom. If he continued that trend this time, you’d beg him once out of sight and earshot of the group.
“One sec.” He blew the horn once, the signal to the group, and maneuvered the truck to the side of the road, just shy of the ditch. “C’mon then.” He got out and shut his own door but you didn’t move. Just as he knew your routine, you knew his. He rounded the front and opened the door for you, offering his arms to lift you from the seat and place your feet on the ground. There was a bit of strain on his face, but you tried to ignore it. The weight was from pregnancy. It’s the baby, it’s the baby. Don’t think about your weight right now.
“Thank you.” You patted his cheek and placed your hands on the small of your back, pushing your belly outward. “It’s fine.” You chuckled without even looking at him. The door had yet to shut which meant he was watching you instead. “Just stiff. Come on, I really have to pee.” Lie, lie, lie. You really needed his fingers stretching you open, his thumb against your throbbing clit. Maybe his mouth.
“Jesus, woman. Slow down.” He huffed, having no trouble keeping stride with you. He was, of course, concerned that you’d fall in your haste. You stopped at a large oak, biting your lip with a nod. A glance back revealed the group was beyond visibility, but you’d have to be quiet. That was going to be difficult with how wound up you were. “G’on. I’ll be right here.” His back was already against the rough bark. You were suddenly reminded of the bite against your skin the day he came inside you for the first time.
Daryl reached for his knife, intent on toying with it, cleaning from underneath his nails with the sharp tip but your hand halted him from even unlatching the sheath. With a frown, he looked you over. You watched the slow process toward realization.
“Don’t really need to piss, do ya?”
“No.” You were already dragging your sweats and leggings down to your knees, taking hold of his wrist and all but slapping his hand against your damp panties. “Please.” Using your grip to hold him still, you ground your hips down for friction that would surely bring some sense of relief. “Please, Daryl.” With a sigh, he stepped forward and turned you so that your back was against his chest. He must have been feeling frustrated. How many times had you nearly had his digits slipping inside you before your body changed its mind? God, your poor partner likely had balls as blue as his eyes.
“S’alright. Y’should know by now that I’ll do whatever it is thatcha need.” And then he was pushing your underwear down one-handed and his middle finger was dipping into your entrance, your body clenching around the intrusion before it began to pulse and pull him deeper. “Fuck.” Daryl dropped his forehead to the back of your head with a groan. You were nearly dripping but this time, the burning ache for his touch wasn’t going away.
“Please.” You said again, rolling your hips, letting out a squeak when your clit pressed into the heel of his hand. “I swear it won’t take long. I just—dear god, I need you.”
“I gotcha.” He whispered into your hair, pumping the digit in and out of your greedy cunt a mere three times before stretching you further with his index finger. The wet sounds accompanying his ministrations were absolutely filthy. “Christ, Y/N.” He was growing hard against your ass, the press of him against you nearly toppling you over the edge then and there.
“No.”
Another sigh from behind you and he was withdrawing with a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “Better get back. They’re probably already—” The look on his face would have been hilarious if you weren't vibrating with a carnal need for him. It took all of three seconds for you to work open his pants and pull him free. There was a delectable hiss that you wanted to snatch with your teeth and bite into as if it were a living thing. Daryl’s hand shot out to brace himself against the tree as you fervently stroked him.
“This. I need this.” You were absolutely going to implode if he didn’t touch you soon. Time was limited. Rick would bring Glenn and T-Dog to search for the pair of you if you took too long. It was time to see if Daryl was even capable of a quickie. He’d always somehow managed to fuck you for what felt like hours. You spun and placed your hands against the tree trunk, jutting out your ass, your hip bumping into the head of his cock. The moment his hand squeezed just one hip, you knew you’d need to hold on tight.
One thrust and he was bottomed out, the stretch of it painful and exquisite. Just what you needed. He wasted no time, pounding into you like his life depended on it. He was likely wound just as tight as you were. You had never been intentionally teasing him, just reacting to the will of your indecisive, hormonal body.
Thank god that same body was craving what he was giving you.
His left hand slid around to support your belly, ever considerate of your comfort despite the frenzied state of his mind in that moment. Your clit was throbbing, begging for pressure and friction that you granted yourself for once as he skillfully plunged in and out of you, the head of him tapping that soft spot inside you that had you rising onto your tiptoes and bending as far as you could manage to open yourself up for him.
Daryl growled, an almost feral sound from deep within his chest, his thrusts growing sloppy. He was close but you were closer, already seeing stars with each stroke of your fingers. You continued to get lost in the way he was making you feel, forgetting to keep your own rhythm going. Fuck. He was going to throw you off the precipice without the need for your aid. “Right there! Oh god, Daryl—I’m gonna—”
“Ssh!” He released your hip in favor of bowing over your back to cover your mouth. He knew you too well. When his teeth bit down just to the right of your spine to muffle his own exclamations, you fell apart. Your walls clamped down on him, pulsing and squeezing until he shouted against your flesh, his hips stuttering against your ass. There was a rush of warmth inside you, welcomed and satisfying. After the spasms slowed in their intensity, Daryl gently, lazily thrust into you a few more times to ensure you rode every single wave. He didn’t slip out of you until you slouched with a contented sigh.
“God, I needed that.” You hummed as he pulled up your panties and leggings, adjusting them to be comfortable before doing the same with your sweats. “Thank you.” You whispered breathlessly, turning to face him as he tucked himself away.
“Ain’t never gotta thank me for somethin’ that’s yours, crazy girl.” The archer froze in the middle of securing his belt, staring at the ground somewhere between your boots and his. You found yourself unable to move as well, just blinking at him, wondering if that meant what you thought it did. His head was down but you could see him glancing back and forth between you and the dirt. When his hands released the leather, his right one circling your wrist, you held your breath. “Y/N —I, uh—”
“Hey!”
Glenn was one of the sweetest men you’d ever known but at that moment, you had never wanted to murder someone more in your entire life.
“You guys okay?”
Daryl grunted and let you go. “C’mon. I guess, they’re sick’a waitin’.”
You sighed but the words, the expression, the moment kept replaying as you followed him. Was he about to tell you that he loved you? It was such a strange feeling to somehow know that he did but feeling like that was made null by his unwillingness to express it. None of this was easy for him. I love you was something he had likely never heard in a way he could believe, from anyone who hadn’t at some point caused him pain. You’d wait. You’d wait forever if you had to.
They always said actions speak louder than words and his actions were absolutely roaring. You just wanted to hear it. Just once. Just wanted to be able to pluck the words from the air and lock them away in your heart to call back when you needed them during the times he couldn’t say it.
You were nearly back to the truck when it hit you and you stopped with a heavy sigh that had your partner twisting at the waist to glance back at you. “Ya alright?”
With a wincing smile, you begrudgingly admitted: “I really do have to pee now.”
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