#he's the only character who can drive me insane with his annoying voice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zaceouiswriting · 2 years

Text

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.3

Characters: Sky x male reader, Brandon x male reader, Riven x male reader

Universe: Winx Club/Wix Saga

Warnings: None

My head is racing as I silently follow the Herald to my grandfather's office. I could not wrap my head around things. They didn't even call me home for my sixteenth birthday a month ago. But now? Now they suddenly want me back in the palace? Something felt strange, but not being able to pinpoint it is driving me insane.

The guards around me gave me strange looks as I nervously fidgeted with my fingers and my head slightly tilted down. Quickly I realized that my reputation was not following but running ahead of me. They must have been shocked at my anxious state. To be honest with myself, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Luckily, I don't care what anyone thinks of me. I didn't even look at them.

Soon we were standing before my grandfather's closed dark stone office doors. Two Geodocers - elite guardians with an affinity for stone magic - exclusively protect the king and stand on the sides of this door. "Explain why you are coming before His Majesty King Rodwick III's private office!" both guards commanded simultaneously in deep, stony voices.

Already aware of their deal, I finally straightened my back and looked directly at the two men, who were not looking back.

"I, (Y/N) Gyonos, Crown Prince of Gyonos, have been officially requested by His Majesty King Rodwick III."

Nothing happened for a while. Slowly, both men turned inward toward the door, pushing against the stone door with one hand while their other gripped their spears tightly. Yellow, brownish magic flowed across the door to the core, which broke open the stone. But only so much that I could step through. Nobody else is allowed to follow.

The second I walked through, the doors closed again, and the stone reconnected. "Oh, your grandfather is already waiting for you!" called a woman's voice which I know all too well.

"So the old man locked you in here?" I asked her jokingly, even relaxing my statue.

"You know how he is, but at least he let me keep plants here!" Her happiness and being able to see the best in everything always made me stare at her in admiration. But at the end of the day, she's still a prisoner.

"Can I open the wooden doors this time without being attacked?" I looked at her suspiciously as she just grinned crookedly at me. "Oh, in the name of Thortaglia, please give me strength," I murmured softly, but as always, she heard me, which I recognized from her ominous chuckle.

Slowly and reluctantly, I walked forward and knocked on the black wooden door made of the ash oak that only grows on the black rocks because of the lava inside the dormant volcano. Highly resistant to fire and anything related to heat.

I had to wait a long moment, or was it short? Honest? I don't know. The only thing I was that I stood there a moment longer than I would have liked. Until finally, the old man permitted me to enter.

With my guard on high alert, I did as I was told, almost casually opening the heavy wooden doors. Even though the door was wide open, nothing happened. Instead, I saw my grandfather with his usual mischievous smile. Across the room, my parents were seated, the same people who never fought for me, only following what my grandfather said.

"What are they doing here?" I asked in a disgusted tone. It made my disappointment in them very clear.

"Everything at the right time, you already know that. Come closer and sit down. It's important.”

"More important than a war I fought almost alone?"

"Yes, indeed, more important than anything else!"

Slightly shocked by my grandfather's determination, I entered the room and closed the door. Still, my senses still heightened; I turned around as soon as the door clicked back into place. Before I could take another step, I felt it. Without looking up, I smashed the rock that was falling on me. Staring at my grandfather the whole time, annoyed to no end.

I wanted to ask him how many traps he'd built, but I knew he'd never tell - like always. So I walked closer to the desk, smashing rocks, dodging arrows, and whatever the old man threw at me.

Even from a distance, I could see the chair was tampered with. So I just put it away and made my own out of stone. I crossed my left leg over my right and leaned back, my forearms on the sides of the chair, looking at my grandfather smugly. It's a little game we play because I'm the only one in the family like him.

"So, old man, why did you call me here? Wasn't confinement to the battlefield enough?”

My grandfather looked me up and down, amazed that I hadn't lost my attitude and sense of superiority. "Somebody had to fight. I am old and tired-”

"Cut it, grandpa. We both know if you had wanted to, you could have split the world and burrowed these people into the ground.” His sweetly smiling expression fell instantly. Suddenly his seemingly broken exterior increased. He leaned over his desk, hands clasped, anger radiating from him. But I didn't give in. Instead, I followed his example and strengthened my position.

We just stared at each other for a while until the old man decided to lean back slightly again, this time sitting up straight with only his hands clasped on his desk.

"You will marry the third son of King Herald of Melakles," he stated matter-of-factly. It actually took me some time to understand what was being said. But as it slowly dawned on me, I began to laugh with all my heart. I almost fell off my chair laughing. After all, my family always told us that we should only marry for love. They would never force anything on us - except the crown.

I soon realized something. Nobody else laughed. I slowly opened my eyes and looked straight into my stoic grandfather's eyes. "You're joking, aren't you?" In a panic, I jumped onto the edge of the seat and tried to grab his hands. But he immediately withdrew.

"You already know Eric isn't that so? After all, he speaks of you with respect.” My panic turned to confusion. Yes, I know him, but I'd only met him once. "And we need their support after our other allies left us to die." A sly smirk graced my grandfather's lips out of a sudden. And it quickly clicked in my head.

"Are you serious?" I roared loudly, making the windows behind my grandfather and even the heavy stone doors shake with the immense power leaving my body. My anger grew as I felt two horns dig out of my head. "You want me to accept a political marriage? After the three of you talk about love as much as it can make a good marriage and make an empire flourish?”

With a single movement of my hands, his desk flew across the room, but my grandfather didn't flinch away; he just lifted his hands off it. "Yes. Everyone has to make sacrifices!"

"So all my siblings will also get married?" Suddenly it became eerily quiet. On my grandfather's stoic, cold icy facial expression, I thought to see something close to regret. "It's good to know that I'm the only one in this family who has to make sacrifices. Not only did you guys steal my teenage years by throwing me into a war, I have nothing to do with not allowing me to go to school or interact with others. Not even my own siblings. But now you want to control my future too?”

"Young man, you cannot talk to me, your king and grandfather, like that!"

The love I once felt for this old man, who was always very gentle with me and helped me control the immense powers that lives within me, suddenly began to disappear. "Is that all?" I asked through clenched teeth, just about able to pull the horns back inside me.

"No." The hate that began to harbor inside me grew a little bit more. "You will study at the Alfea Academy of Fairies."

“What?“

“Of course, you are a fairy. You will study there, just like me when I was your age. The new semester starts in two days.”

"Well, on my birthday, you couldn't get me out of the war, but if you want to send me away again. I finally understand where my place is in this family.” I turned after spitting those words in my grandfather's face: as venomously as possible. My eyes fell on my parents for the first time since I entered. "I hope you two are happy. We'll see what your future will bring when this old man withered away, and I take the crown!"

Nothing further was said after this threat. I simply left his office, ignoring his assistant and opening the heavy stone doors myself, shocking the guards in front of them.

I kept wondering how they could do this to me. Am I this unimportant and replaceable to them? Deep in thought, I didn't realize I'd reached my room. At least, I thought so. I almost left it again as I could see someone else standing inside, nervously fidgeting with their fingers.

“Who are you?“

The poor fellow jumped in terror and cowered against the wall as soon as he heard my voice. "Your royal highness, I-I-I-"

"Get down to the point!" I growled at him, annoyed at just his presence and at the thought of what my grandfather could have done.

But my harsh words had the opposite effect. Instead of sharing his affairs with me, he closed his eyes and folded his arms protectively in front of him while at the same time crouching on the floor.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips, and I walked over to him, shaking my head. He must have heard my heavy, angry footsteps because he soon curled up into a ball.

Ignoring his obviously fearful behavior, I grabbed his waist and pulled him off the floor. Oddly enough, he weighs next to nothing. I sat him down on a couch on the left side of my room and put a blanket over him. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Without waiting for another word of his, I opened the door and left my room. Mentally exhausted, I walked down to the kitchen, through a secret passage and later staff stairs.

"Your Highness, what can we-"

"That's not necessary. I'm just going to make tea and steal some snacks for a young man in my room whom I suspect has just had a nervous breakdown."

I could hear the giggles of many kitchen workers and a lower butler standing to one side. "So I assume you know who this guy is?"

Everyone in the kitchen, about thirty people, made appreciative noises almost simultaneously. To be honest? It didn't surprise me. After all, the employees know everything at all times.

"He's your new personal assistant," the butler told me stoically.

I giggled darkly at his words, "Over my dead body." Suddenly, the happy atmosphere in the room was gone, everyone staring uneasily in my direction as I prepared for my short-term guest.

Feeling questioning looks on my back, I had to explain myself: “I won't take another assistant after what happened to my last one. The boy I've known all my life, I grew up with, who got killed right before my eyes! His blood spilled all over me, and to this day, I can't get the taste of his blood out of my mouth. I held him as he bled to death, unable to do anything for him. I could only pray that he would be in a different, better place and give him a final kiss on his forehead.”

I cried for his loss for so long that, at that point, not a single new tear could be shed. I miss him every day. His death was the reason I killed the only enemy I ever respected. It was his sword that spilled my best friend's blood.

To say they were in shock would be a gross understatement. Neither of them had any idea. They only know that I was on the front lines of this war - which is still going on.

There was complete silence in the room for minutes until I turned around with the tray in my hands, everything neatly arranged. "I didn't want to spoil the mood. Unfortunately, I'm not the lively person I used to be. You have the cruel old man to thank for that.” For the first time since the death of my best friend, I have shown my grief to someone.

Oddly enough, the atmosphere changed, and the intense tension eased as sympathy swept over all those who had always treated me - and the rest of my family well.

Head slightly bowed, I fixed my gaze on the floor as I shuffled out of the kitchen as fast as I could before either of them could see tears that dared to go against my will and break free of my eyes.

I took the same way back I had used to get to the kitchen, getting out of everyone's way.

Without thinking much, I opened my bedroom door with my forearm and closed it with my foot after entering. Soft snoring made its way to me, right into my ears. Shocked, I walked around to the couch. There the poor guy was, sound asleep peacefully. I must have really exhausted him through sheer fear.

Careful not to make too much noise, I set the tray down. I gently pulled the blanket over his shoulders so that only his head was sticking out. I also brushed a few strands of hair out of his face. "He looks even more like… him... from this perspective," I murmured under my breath. I wonder if grandfather is behind this and did it on purpose.

A sudden rush of new anger seared my eyes and turned them into what I tried to hide inside me so hard. It was difficult to push it back, but he somehow managed.

Straightening my back out again, I let out a sigh of relief. I breathed in sharply through my nose and let it out gently through my mouth. Slowly I could feel my senses slowly returning to me.

When I finally found myself still standing in front of the couch with the sleeping guy, I turned to my desk and quietly rummaged through it until I had a piece of paper and a pen in my hands. I wrote a note for the guy, left it on the tray, and finally left the room with one goal: finding a couple of guards willing to train with me to vent some frustration.

[Masterlist]

#winx club #winx club imagine #winx saga x male reader #Winx Saga #winx saga imagine #sky #sky x male reader #brandon #brandon x male reader #brandon imagine #sky imagine #riven #riven x male reader #riven imagine #male reader #x male reader #male reader imagine #x male reader imagine

79 notes · View notes

mwebber · 1 year

Note

Tell us more about jealous girl Seb please? <3 👀

so i was posting in the context of lesbian martian but come to think of it, i can also probably give it a shot in girlseb au too..

in lesbian martian:

seb isn't really the type to be possessive of worldly things--she knows that true value stretches far beyond the material !

... which is why she's antsy about mark. in my mind, there's this interesting back and forth of mark being envious of seb when it comes to achievements and self-image and all the shit that comes with women being pitted against one another, and seb being jealous of mark when her position is undermined by things like mark's religious adherence to the boy's locker room and her apparent ease with which she navigates The Patriarchy, Tee Em ™

(seb's more blasé/carefree/fuck-what-you-think-about-me attitude doesn't do her as many favours, as one might imagine...)

their romantic entanglement just serves to complicate this relationship more, imo. red bull mark is just as ready to haul seb into a utility closet and stick her hands up seb's skirt as she is to talk shit about seb to the media for that small edge, whatever it takes to win.

which brings me to the mind games. oh, the mind games. both seb and mark are so completely cognizant of each other's buttons, and they push them every time. whenever mark makes a little underhanded dig at seb's outward femininity, whenever seb gets cruel about her success, they collide just a little harder.

in bed, the desire to be sweet is at constant war with the urge to put that fucking bitch in her place.

what i like about this train of thought is the way softness is associated with femininity, and how both seb and mark have learned to be averse to the feminine in different ways by necessity in their field. they've got real, budding feelings for each other that defy any previous or learned ideas of Romance and conflict with their worldviews! how are they possibly expected to untangle That while remaining focused on racing?

in on the bound:

girlseb au has become more of a satirical performance of genderbent characters from like, the opposite pov where nothing is sexy and everything is alarmingly messy... so naturally, jealous girlseb is about seb being jealous when mark gets bitches, and little else.

seb knows what mark looks like when he flirts. she's been on the receiving end of his advances more times than she cares to count, so she knows all the signs: the open body language, the focused gaze, the smiles.

it's some random grid girl, and not a particularly pretty one either, says the vicious and judgmental voice in seb's head. she's strawberry blonde and far too tan, and she's so tall, she almost matches mark's height.

seb wins the race. mark comes third. he ignores seb entirely to spray champagne at the grid girl, and that's all the excuse seb needs after debrief to force her way into mark's bed.

(not that she's really cognizant of her own feelings, by the way. all she knows is that mark is trying to drive her insane, and she needs to pay that back--she's not jealous, there's nothing to be jealous of.)

mark still doesn't know how to say no to her, and he never will. if seb bites a little more, if she scratches down his back and sucks bruises where his clothes can't hide them, it's not for any reason other than that she wants to hurt and embarrass him. and if he hurts her back, just so the world can know who fucked whom--well, she started it, so.

naturally, and as these kind of AUs go, mark casually forgets that he invited the grid girl over for a very-late-night, post-race celebration...

so seb's the one who answers the door, half-dressed and thoroughly debauched. she's still a little annoyed at the other woman, but mostly, she just feels sorry for her; after all, it's not her fault that mark is a shameless, heartbreaking flirt. she's only got him to blame :)

#inbox #also can i just say like. thank u to ppl like u who read my martian posts and ask me what i'm talking about #u give me the motivation to Think About Them Seriously. i love u

11 notes · View notes

kazumahashimoto · 7 months

Text

all my ff7 rebirth thoughts i can remember upon a first watch, split into good and bad

THE GOOD:

-AERITH'S DAMN SONG IS REALLY GOOD IT'S BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD. I CRIED.

-both gold saucer dates with aerith were really good. cloud instantly following aerith's bit with the announcer voice shocked me so bad i started crying just a little it was so fucking cute �� and i think they did the conversation about zack really well!!!! i like it. i really liked how they traded off helping each other get on/off. very sweets.

-there was a scene like somewhat early on i think with aerith cloud and nanaki where aerith tries to get him to let her touch his paws cos she thinks they'll be soft and he says no. aerith tries to get cloud on her side and he says “i mean, i am curious” I LOVE how he follows her bits. IT'S SO CUTE. HE'S SO SILLY AROUND HER.

-in nanaki's date the paws thing gets referenced with cloud shaking his paw and saying “woah, they are soft” i love a callback. cloud silly moments

-barret saying in-kweh-dible

-CAIT SITH IS SO CUTE. I'M SO JEALOUS OF HIM. HE'S SO CUTE. it is unfortunately tainted by the fact they chose to mispronounced his name however.

-yuffie pretending to hit barret and barret pretending to be hit 😭<3

-BARRET’S STORY WAS DONE PERFECT. i was crying so bad. the visuals, the voice acting, the writing, it was all there. i'm so so glad they stuck the landing with this one.

-VOICE ACTING MOSTLY GOOD. nothing was so terrible i was actively pulling my hair out while it happened like with reunion, so i'm pleased. cody christian has definitely improved since last time too he's kinda lost that awkward disjointed manner of speaking sentences, which i'll always have a fondness for but he really did an incredible job here. i really like the main remake cast's new voices!!! i know the recast wasn't received well by everybody but i really think they're all doing great. the only people i really struggle with are zack, and recently reno? he sounds off. he was lacking whimsy. though we don't see him too much here anyway so shrug. ALSO I REALLY LIKED ELENA'S VOICE. i'm not sure familiar with elena as a character so i can't speak much on how she was being characterized here, but i LOVED what the actress was doing. i love all her inflections. she was always very petulant and cocky and she felt perhaps younger than she actually is? but i think that's what they were going for with her being new. anyway she was a standout for me in terms of new voices for this game.

-aerith says “for real? awesome!” at one point and while i HATE that they changed that line in reunion, the fact that aerith is mimicking zack drives me insane. she says for real at least one more time after this too i love it. i can't remember every instance of her mimicking zack but just assume i got a kick out of all of them

-cloud aerith date after falling into the pit, “you don't look like you're on a date… more like, ‘at a funeral’.” what if i died? what if i blew up right here?

-”cloud…[...]aerith… how the hell am i supposed to choose?” zack so close to realizing he can have them both

-zack cloud and aerith all being alive in the same room together for the first time and two of them are unconscious made me laugh. i stay losing i love it (genuinely it's funny i think it's good that they died ect)

-OH ZACK THROWING A FUCKING LAMP POST OR WHATEVER INTO A HELICOPTER WITHIN THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES OF THE VIDEO GAME HAD ME SCREAMING THAT SHIT WAS SO FUNNY. LIKE GODDAMN. ALRIGHT. WORK.

-”alright. follow my lead.” “look at you takin charge! i like it!” my essay in why zack is submissive,

-AERITH HUGGING CAIT. WWEWEWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

-”QUESTION. am i a dumbass?” “i'm cetra! am i intolerant?” i love you girl.

-cloud junior reminds me of the quaxly i named cloud jr. who was birthed by my friend's quaquaval cloud strife

-blanket statement i love all of cloud and aerith's interactions really i do. even if the plot was annoying me i must admit to enjoying all their cute smiles at each other. real cute. THEY MAKE GREAT GIFSETS !

-WE ARE IN THE FUCKING CLEAR. ANGEAL STAYED DEAD. PHEW.

-zack was looking at a notice board in the slums and there was a banora white poster directly next to his head

-the end scene was real fucking cute. i love a call back. ending on cloud's dumb smiley face and “you promise?” “promise.” AWAYUGH. i like them. they're sweets.

THE BAD:

-zack. oh girl. like, admittedly i was already coming to this from the perspective of “zack lives doesn't need to be canon”, but even STILL. god THEY FUCKED IT. now let me defend my initial stance here too. zack has no narrative purpose being alive in the canon story of ff7. the story of ff7 is already a complete one full of characters that each play their own role in how things turn out in the end. zack has his role. he's there to be cloud’s SOLDIER friend he looked up to, one that saved his life and brought him where he is now. his character gets expanded in crisis core, but ultimately he's still there to die. his role is to be dead. and, looking to crisis core, he gets a full story as well. it's not to say he has no room left to grow, theoretically, but WHAT would his purpose be in the canon story of ff7 if he still lived? here the thing. fanfiction does not need to be canon. fanfic and aus and headcanons are great, they're a wonderful tool to flesh out characters more, get in their heads, it's a chance to explore “what if”s. but they don't need to be canon. just because you like a character and want to see them more does not mean they'd serve an actual narrative purpose in the canon material. there's nothing zack could really offer here, in my opinion, and clearly the writers agree because they didn't give him shit to do.

everytime we skip back over to zack, he isn't doing anything. he's looking over cloud, looking over aerith, he's talking to marlene, to biggs, to elmyra, about NOTHING. “hopes, dreams maybe? something like that.” marlene gives him Weird predictions of the future, which changes nothing. he gives biggs a pep talk, which does nothing. honestly it feels like they were just trying to buy time until they could try and prod some jealousy out of him over cloud and aerith and then the final team up with cloud against sephiroth. and they couldn't even keep him IN CHARACTER the entire time.

i have my small gripes. zack so nonchalantly messing up an angeal speech (which he should have absolutely drilled in his head at this point. hah, one of THOSE, huh.) irks me. i still don't think caleb's voice really suits him, though it was much better this time around. i think zack not realizing that there's literally no way biggs could have possibly met cloud is stupid. but the worst, the most egregious bit of mischaracterization i have ever seen, is marlene telling zack he needs to make cloud better so he can protect aerith, and zack deciding to go to hojo. are you… fucking. kidding me? zack's internal clock is messed up. sure, okay, that doesn't stop him from remembering aerith's letter where she tells him he's been gone for FOUR YEARS. GETTING EXPERIMENTED ON IN A BASEMENT. WITH CLOUD. BY HOJO. and then he just, shows up! he shows up, and he says, “pretty sure i only asked to meet hojo, not a whole platoon.” he says, “whatever. the world's about to end anyway.” do they think he's fucking stupid? do they think he's dumb? do they think zack is so, what, cocky? so sure of himself? that he can’t possibly find all the very obvious flashing warning signs that that idea makes no fucking sense? you expect me to believe zack would just go back? that he'd even consider it? that he'd put his life, CLOUD'S LIFE, AERITH'S LIFE, at risk like that? like i'm speechless. what are they DOING to him? what did this even MEAN for his character? so he finds out aerith has a thing for cloud. he stands next to cloud for a minute. he leaves. what did this add? what did this even set up? nothing. zack being alive had zero impact on the story, so why keep him around to begin with?

-on the topic of biggs, biggs! he also had no fucking purpose! and he won't shut up about it either! survivor's guilt, oh sure, but when he starts waxing poetic about how he doesn't know why he was saved, all i can think is well of course they picked you, the other choices were a woman and a fat guy. no fucking wonder they went with you. AND THEN HE DIES WITHOUT HAVING DONE ANYTHING. he literally added NOTHING to the story. him and zack are just there for hungry fans to point and go LOOK, LOOK! MY FAVORITE IS HERE AGAIN! WE’RE EATING GOOD CRUMBS TONIGHT!

-cissnei. when i tell you cissnei was the literal only new potential plotline i was looking forward to going into this, i mean that fully. and you know what? i got baited. i, too, got baited with look, look, my favorite is here again. i thought of so many different ways cissnei could impact the story, based on the short clip we got from the last trailer, with her saying “it's you!” i thought, cissnei is the only person left who knew zack and cloud simultaneously while they were both alive, besides tifa who's keeping quiet and sephiroth who's fucking with cloud on purpose. this could be so interesting. she recognized him! i'm enthralled. i get to gongaga, cissnei shows up near immediately, and she says, “wait, it's you! oh, i thought you were someone else.” and they move on. it's never brought up again. like. really? really? “i thought you were someone else.” who in the WORLD else could he possibly be. cissnei sees this scrawny, short little “ex soldier first class” running around with the dumbest, FAMOUSLY, CANONICALLY, FREQUENTLY BROUGHT UP IN THIS VERY GAME, ICONIC hair style, and she says “i thought you were someone else.” I DON'T BUY IT. CISSNEI ISN'T STUPID. like it wouldn't have even needed to change the story line. any acknowledgment that she KNOWS him would have been better than THIS. a simple “it’s you! you're still alive!” “what do you mean?” “oh, uh, i saw you on the news!” BOOM there you go, now WE know she knows him, and everyone else just thinks she recognizes him from being wanted by shinra. excellent. but, no! no in fact cissnei serves no narrative purpose beyond “oh, she fulfilled zack's wish from crisis core” and “oh, i know her!”

-the whispers were the worst fucking thing to happen to this fucking franchise. like not only are we getting the dumb “fate” bullshit (that's just there to poke fun at all the fans that wanted remake to be the original story with updated graphics), but we're also getting lost memories! in fact, we're using the whispers as explanations for things that did not need answering from the original game now too! aerith tells tifa about her missing memories, and tifa says she thinks that must be happening to her too. and i suppose i don't doubt that, given the whispers exist in this iteration of the story, tifa would THINK that that's what's happening to her, but what bothers me is that there's an ANSWER. if you're a new fan and don't know how this goes originally, you're going to be thinking “oh, it's the whispers” too. but there was no REASON for there to BE an answer. tifa thinks she's crazy. tifa thinks SHE'S the one in the wrong here, it can't possibly be cloud, but she's SO SURE she doesn't remember him there. there's so much turmoil there, especially as more and more signs point to tifa being right. but here, the answer is whispers. alright, guess tifa's memory is just fucked cos of the whispers. nothing to do about it!

i believe, due to the fact that whispers fucking with memories is something they kept bringing up, that everytime you think “the characters should already know this at this point” the answer is whispers! isn't that fun? isn't it Fun that we're getting plot convenient memory loss on EVERYBODY? honestly by the time they added a third fucking type of whisper i was fully convinced their literal only purpose is to drive the plot in whatever direction the writers feel like at any given moment. we need this character to do x, but how? well the answer is whispers. if EVERYONE is a puppet, what makes cloud so special huh? they're all at the whispers whims. don't seem to be defying much fate right now!

-on the topic of memory loss, yeah the only reason cloud remembers zack this early is so we could get that team up at the end. it's cheap. like, in theory the way they did it makes enough sense, he sees the room at the inn and remembers that he was with someone in there. (the conversation he remembers is also grossly out of character for zack at that point and seriously misleads you on what was such a somber conversation initially but uhhhh let's call it cloud's imagination huh.) alright, he sees the river flowing down the mountain and remembers he watched someone drown, must be zack! makes sense. and then, tifa agrees? yes, he drowned. oh, we should tell aerith. we should, but let me, and let’s keep it a secret. cloud just remembered he had a best friend, he says they were so close, how could he forget, he just remembered that he watched him die. and tifa tells him to keep it a secret? like i understand WHY but isn’t that a bit rude? i don’t know that she'd actually go about it like that. regardless it's getting REAL tiring how they keep adding in scenes early. they did it with the forest scene with aerith in remake and they're doing it here too. IT'S RUINING THE NARRATIVE FLOW!!!!!!

-um. no rocket town? we get cid with no rocket town? like picking up yuffie and vinny different from the original doesn't Super bother me, i think they did it well enough that it's not really worth noting for me, but this is quite the direction for cid. they've sucked all the misogyny right out of him and took out the area where he acts the absolute worst. i've never liked cid! but this just feels like. damn they didn't even wanna TRY getting into cid keeping this woman in his house doing all his chores cos she feels indebted to him. feels a bit selective to me, they had no problem making women squeal at the thought of hojo getting them pregnant, using women as bubbly set dressing, having cloud put a dress on and pretend to be a woman to trick a man into sleeping with him. oh but, cid is just a hair too far. we still need him for the travel though, so, welcome aboard! maybe the whispers made him forget.

-OH MY GOD THEY DIDN'T HAVE CLOUD SAY “did sephiroth… do this?” LIKE!!!!!!!! dude that's like if they decided zack didn't need to say “me? gongaga” to cloud when he asks where he's from. ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

-why did they decide shinra flew tifa out to corel? shinra, who wanted no survivors after the fire. shinra, who sent a full platoon after zack to kill him after he escaped. oh, but, in this one the residents in nibelheim all know that it burnt down? nibelheim, the town that's meant to be full of actors. the residents that are supposed to tell you “what an awful thing to say” when you explain the town burned down five years ago. oh but now it's a town dedicated to helping those with mako poisoning. right.

-i know damn well a furry did not design that galian beast WHERE IS HIS FUR. WHY ARE YOU WHITE. WHY IS HE NOT OURPLE. he looks too much like vinny, which might seem like a silly complaint but given how much he usually Doesn't look like him it kind of feels like they're treating us like we're dumb, like we couldn't possibly understand that that's vinny unless it really looks like him. not a fan.

-sephiroth didn’t even chuck the materia at cloud and then do a flip and fly away. girl you're missing all your most iconic scenes. at this point cloud's not gonna say let's mosey.

-what was the point of roche if they were just gonna essentially kill him off? i hate to sound like a broken record but girl what's the point of having all these characters when they add NOTHING. AND THEN THEY DIE.

-alright i wasn't playing the video game so maybe this was actually INCREDIBLY COMPELLING GAMEPLAY but why were half the puzzles in every area “move a big box very slowly to a location” like. damn no wonder they put that thing in the demo you're gonna be doing it in every area for the next 20 hours

-good christ the ending was so convoluted and confusing. i already don't really care for timeline convergences as a plot point, so of course this really isn’t for me, but even still it was so frustrating and hard to follow. and i think they wanted it to be that way, but that doesn't make it interesting? that doesn't make it thought provoking or compelling, it makes it frustrating and hard to follow. AND MEANINGLESS. AERITH STILL DIED. like they keep going on and on about defying fate, doing whatever, they're taking charge of destiny and whatever. oh, here comes zack to help us fight. and he’s gone. oh, here comes aerith to help us fight, and we're mourning. not cloud though! i really don't get it.

-aerith DIES!!!!!!!! THIS IS A GOOD THING I WAS WORRIED THEY'D PUSSY OUT. and well they kinda did! we don't get the iconic scene of cloud putting her in the water? like her materia falls into the water OK but that's it. it's just cloud holding her and he tells her to wake up and she does and they smile. i tell ya what, it makes a real pretty gifset! and that's it!

-really and truly what bothers me the most about this all is that to so many people, THIS is what the story of ff7 is. to many new fans, this is the only version that matters. they don't care to go back and see what originally happened because the game is old and looks “bad”. no one's getting mad at dissidia for not following exact canon and keeping everyone alive. it's not a matter of everything needing to be 100% accurate all the time. it's the fact that this IS the story of final fantasy 7 in current times. this is what people are currently viewing as default. but it's fucking up the storyline, plot progression, narrative flow, characterization, character importance. and for what? a story that's nearly impossible for someone to fully understand without having prior knowledge of the original, and adds a plot device that mocks fans that just wanted the original's story with updated graphics? that's what bothers me most.

#IT'S PAST MIDNIGHT I NEED TO SLEEP I'M NOT CHECKING FOR ERRORS RN o7 #ff7r spoilers #ff #longpost

6 notes · View notes

theunfortunateplace · 1 year

Text

Say you love me (Neteyam X OC!Na’vi) Chapter 11

Read On AO3 Previous Chapter Next chapter

pairing(Neteyam X Original Metkayina Female Character)

Synopsis: follow Luaewe as her world literally gets turned upside down with new na’vi joining her village. Never having to face many obstacles besides finding her way back home. How will she be able to handle the constant jealousy she's faced with and an unwanted love triangle.

Disclaimer: All characters in this fic have been aged up for the convenience of storytelling and to match the aging system up with both Pandora and Earth

AGES OC Luaewe- 22 Neteyam-23 Kiri-23 Lo'ak-21 Tuktirey-10 Ao'nung-23 Tsireya-21

The ride back was torture every second Neteyam was cursing from Luaewe’s scent increasing and her temperature rising.

He jumped off his ikran with her wrapped around his body and practically ran to her mauri. He knocked on the wood framing repeatedly until Somiikor answered.

She came out with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a confused face at who could be knocking. But her eyes widened once she saw her daughter wrapped around Neteyam.

“ her heat is coming fast…I had to bring her back.” She looked at him with a surprised face but she was thankful her daughters' words were true from earlier. “ come on you can put her-“

“ I’m sorry ma’am I can’t do that this is the farthest I will go I-I can’t-“ she hushed him and began to pry her daughter off of him. But Luaewe refused holding onto him tighter.

“ Ma Oare be a good girl and let me go,” Neteyam whispered with a stern voice yet comforting voice. She reluctantly loosened her grip but a slew of whines left her mouth as she was lowered Down. The absent heat, the scent, the touch of the one she wanted so much. But was it her or her heat?

“ I’ll have my sister drop off one of my blankets” he cleared his throat as his eyes glanced at his future mate walking into her home. “ that should help.” Somiikor nodded her head letting a small thank you leave her mouth. He nodded his head and gave Luaewe one last look before walking away. He knew if he stayed there longer he would slowly lose control and that's what he didn't want.

As he entered his shared mauri he let out a shuttered breath rushing to his room to grab the necessities for a bath and the blanket he promised to have dropped off. “ gosh what happened to you I thought you were supposed to be with your girl?” Lo’ak asked with a raised brow. Neteyam hissed annoyed with the questions he was being asked.

“I had to leave.” Neteyam rushed over to his sisters' room and lightly tapped her foot only getting a groan in response. He shook Kiri vigorously this was urgent and he couldn't do it. “ what do you want? Do you know how late it is and you're waking me up!” Kiri said while sitting up.

“ if it wasn't important I would have never woken you up! Now please Kiri bring this to Lueaewe’s home!” she looked at him with a raised brow that was slowly turning into her showing anger.

“Are you serious?! You woke me up to give her a bal-”

“ for fucks sakes Kiri she's in heat and I can’t give this to her and she needs it! So please this is all I ask of you.” Neteyam hadn’t meant for his voice to come out as harsh as it did but he was losing patients. The scent of Lueaewe’s heat was lingering on him and slowly driving him into insanity.

Kiri let out a sigh taking the blanket and walking past him. “ ah so that's why you came back” Lo’ak snickered “You should've just fucked her.”

Neteyam snapped his head around clenching his jaw. “Brother I advise you to keep your mouth shut before I say or do something I might regret,” Neteyam said storming past Lo’ak he needed to get her scent off of him and his brother's pestering words weren’t making him feel better.

The warm water settled some of his nerves as he walked deeper into the river. ‘ I should be fine my rut isn’t for another month or so…’ he thought as he squeezed the plant that released soap.

He reluctantly sat down on one of the submerged rocks only to let an annoyed groan leave his mouth once he felt his dick twitch begging to be touched.

“ her heat just had to come today huh?” But regardless of Luaewaes heat his attraction to her was undoubtedly off the scale. From the way she talked even if she was vexed with him, to the way her lip curled as she smiled.

Innocent things like that but his mind quickly filled with memories of her. The way her top clung to her plump breast, her ridiculous curves, how round and fat her ass was. He couldn’t understand how her loincloth didn’t get swallowed up with all that movement back there. He could only imagine how fat her puss-

“ come on man!” Neteyam practically shouted to himself. He shook his head trying to get the tempting thoughts out of his head. “ She's not some piece of meat, she is your potential mate!”

But there was nothing wrong with self-pleasure everyone did it. ‘ I should just find some cold water and go to bed!’ But the image of Luaewe grinding on him refused to leave.

His hand slowly gravitated to the thick base of his dick. Gripping it with so much desire wishing it was Luaewe wrapped around him. “ F-fuck I wish I could be inside you right now!” He craved her warm soft skin, to be touched by her delicate fingers.

He quickened his pace pumping into his hand aggressively as the intimate thoughts ran through his head. How he wished it was her pussy he was pumping into instead of his hand, he looked down at the swollen head and cursed at the sight of pre cum gushing out of his dick.

He let his head hang back taking in the pleasure from the precum spread along his shaft. Picking up his pace and tightening his grip, he bucked his hips into his hands. It was as if he was a teenage Na’vi again. “ shhhit what the fuck!” his abdomen tightened as the orgasm ripped through him suddenly. His dick twitched with aggression as the cum shot out onto his chest almost going over his shoulder.

He shook his head letting out a breathy chuckle not believing what just happened. Quickly he dipped himself back into the water and washed off the evidence

The sound of a man scoffing pulled Neteyam out of his orgasmic high state he swiftly turned around ready to confront the man that had snuck up on him. “you're a fucking joke.” The man that had been bugging Luaewe had appeared in front of him. “ letting your supposed mate deal with their heat alone.”

Neteyam furrowed his brows pissed that another man had mentioned his mate he slowly rose out of the water not carrying that his bare body was on display.

“ how about you mind your business.” The man scoffed and began walking towards him. “ I’m not afraid of you man that little punch didn’t do shit!”

“ no one said anything about being afraid”. Neteyam cocked his head to the side. “ what I want to know is why you were around Luaewe once again when I told you to stay away?”

“ you don’t control me buddy I go where I please and if I please to smell that delicious scent a single woman is emitting there I will go.”

Neteyam was enraged this man was a pervert getting off to the smell of his women his Luaewe! “ watch what you say” he warned not holding back on the aggressive attitude starting to boil over.

“ I don’t know man maybe I should go over there and fuck now since you’re not doing it. Huh, many put a baby in her AUGH-“ Neteyam gripped the man’s throat tightly not showing any mercy.

“ if you so much breathe near her I will make you wish Eywa spared your life!” The man prayed at Neteyams hand begging for him to release his throat and so he did but not before knocking him square in his face instantly breaking his nose.

The man cupped his face as he stumbled back. “ heed my warning because I will happily battle it out if you don’t listen.” The man looked at Neteyam shocked that he just threatened him. It was only right for him to walk away before it got worse.

“ at least I know she’s in good arms.” The sound of another voice caused Neteyam to turn around. Which gave time for the guy to run away. Neteyam let out an annoyed sigh hearing the crunching beneath the man’s feet

“ what do you want?” Neteyam asked facing Ao’nung who held a fishing net in his hands.

“Nothing I’m just surprised…at least I can sleep a night knowing the girl that slipped through my fingers is with a good man.” Neteyam raised a brow in confusion. Where was all of this coming from? He wasn’t unaware of the fact Ao’nung liked Luaewe but this was weird.

“ no offense but I don’t think you ever had a chance with her…not with the way you acted.” Ao’nung chuckled and nodded his head.

“ I suppose your right…I let jealousy blind me and even ruin the little friendship we had.” He let out a sigh and sat down. “ I don’t regret a lot of things but I would redo that day over if I could.”

He said while a somber tone.

‘ I shouldn’t even be talking to him I should just leave.’ Neteyam through while watching Ao’nung fiddle with his net. “ I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this, but what you did that night was wrong. She told you that stuff in confidence and you started up a gossip train.” Ao’nung nodded his head listening to Neteyam go in about his wrongdoings.

“ I just want to apologize…” he said while getting up. “ especially to you and your family….truthfully this time.”

His ears lowered as Neteyam watched him with cautious eyes. “ I was immature and jealous-“

“ jealous of me from the moment we stepped foot in your clan?” He nodded his head. “ it’s stupid really I thought you were going to swoop in and take my spot…then when I saw you with Luaewe I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

“ I know I’m infamous for having an asshole personality but that- I’m not always like that I let my emotions get the best of me…” Neteyam nodded his head listening to what Ao’nung was saying.

“ I can’t trust you immediately especially after all that’s happened. And as for Luaewe, you will have to go to her personally.

One week later

“ You are fine but you will not be able to last another heat without a mate,” Ronal said while handing me a big bowl of whatever she concocted. I don’t have enough fingers to count how many times I passed out from ‘this’. “ but I presume that won’t be an issue Neteyam is courting you correct?” She asked while sitting down across from me. I nodded my head and placed the bowl down.

“ I’m sure your mother has given you this talk already but it is my duty as Tsahìk

to do it as well. It is important for you to know If you make Tsaheylu, have sex, and your mate knots you. when you do all ‘three’ the chances of you becoming with child are very high you need to remember that if you don’t plan on having babies.” She said in a serious tone.

I nodded my head and looked at her for a second so much time has passed since we last sat down and talked to each other outside of healing duties. She leaned over grabbing various things from her collection then looked at me.

“ come I need to see how my baby is doing.” I raised a brow and reluctantly shifted towards her. “ you are Tsahìk

why do you need my help?”

Ronal kissed her teeth and lightly grabbed my arm basically telling me to hurry up and stop asking questions. She laid down and pulled her beaded skirt down low enough that I can do what she needed me to do.

“ apply that oil to your hands and slowly press on the lower part of my belly.” I nodded and carefully scooped the clear oil into my hand. I didn’t know how hard it was to harvest this so I don’t want to waste a drop. I then started to feel around in the area she told me.

Was it supposed to feel like this? It was hard “What do you feel?” She asked

“ your belly is hard is it supposed to be like that?”

“ yes. Now what else do you feel?” I huffed confused by what she meant what else was I supposed to feel? Her belly is hard… I closed my eyes and continued to feel, a sudden warmth engulfed my body. It was unlike when you sit near a fire it was like a hug, a smile. The sweet scent of the melon fruit that grows In The jungle….

“ she is happy.” I opened my eyes to find Ronal looking back at me shocked. She smiled. “ but tha-“

“ I am surprised….no impressed. I had my suspicions when seeing if the baby was ok but for you to know it’s a girl with just touching…Tsireya was right.”

I shook my head vigorously. “ no it was just a guess an assumption! I’m sure I’m-“

“What did you feel?”

“ warmth like a smile and I smelled melon fruit..” she smirked and nodded her head.

“ you were not wrong you were correct. Melon fruit is a very common fruit that women eat when they are expecting a girl.”

I sat there dumbfounded so what does this mean huh? “ you’ll start training more towards being a midwife. This is a skill that must not be wasted.” She said gleefully.

I sat on the ilu with my back pressed against Neteyams chest. “ come on the best time to go is right before eclipse!”

Reya called out before diving on the ilu. She thought it was the perfect time for Neteyam and his siblings to see our most sacred spirit tree. Though they haven’t passed their trials yet over the months they’ve been here they have proven themselves to the clan. It was only right for them to experience this too.

I dismounted the ilu and turned around to face Neteyam ‘ I want you to meet my sister!’ I signed he smiled and nodded his head. The rest watched Reya as she demonstrated how to connect. She wasn’t sure if the Omatikaya had different ways.

I eagerly lifted my kuru and let the tendrils attach themselves, I instinctively closed my eyes as I was brought to her. I felt his large hand on my back as I opened my eyes he was right there with me in the jungle. He smiled and I looked around seeing if I could find her “ SISTER! I have beaten you again! If you want to train with the warriors and I you need to be able to catch up!” I gasped hearing Fualoua's voice from above. I looked up and saw her sitting on one of the branches eating a piece of fruit.

I huffed and stuck my tongue out at her. “ you and I both know that is not fair. The Warriors don't even climb trees! Get down from there you can get hurt!” she giggled and jumped down making my eyes grow wide. She appeared right in front of me and pulled me into a hug.

“ it dosen’t matter if they don't we should gain leverage where others dont- who is this?”Fualoua stepped back and looked over my shoulder I gasped and pulled Neteyam closer.

“ Oel Ngati kameie” he said while doing the hand gesture Fualoua returned the gesture but her eyes continued to observe him taking in all his detail exactly like our mom did. She looked back at me “Tsmuke… is this your mate?” she smirked and bumped against my shoulder

Before I could even speak Neteyam clears his throat. “ no but I plan on becoming her mate I’ve been courting her for a month or so now.” He said confidently I couldn't help but smirk. Fualoua nodded her head. “ hm well how do I know you are any good.”

“ Fualoua!-“ Neteyam chuckled and placed his hand on my arm causing me to stop. “ it’s ok.” He said looking at me then turning back to my sister. “ I can assure you I am a great potential mate for your sister. I’m an excellent hunter back in my clan I was the youngest na’vi to become a warrior so she never has to worry about a man lacking in the defensive department. My mother was to become the next Tsahìk before we left, and though that wouldn’t be my duty once I find a mate my grandmother made sure to spread the knowledge amongst my siblings-“

“ so what would have been your duty back in your other clan?” She rested her back against the tree and stared at him like our mother would do when she wanted to get information out of us.

“Once my father felt like it was my time I would become Olo’eyktan and my mate would become Tsahìk once my mother felt like it was right.” She hummed as her eyes bounced back and forth between us.

“ hm, you got yourself a chief's son? Father would be proud…… better than Ao’nung” She rolled her eyes and I groaned. “ can we not mention that idiot we are talking out my potential mate…so what do you think?” She gave me the straightest face, does she not like him? What will I do if she does- I raised a brow feeling a pair of arms wrapped around me.

She pulled back and smiled, Man I missed that smile. Even if you were pissed off her smile would change your mood instantly. “ he is a great option…and you!” She turned to Neteyam and jabbed his chest with her finger. “ if you break my sister's heart I’ll make sure to break every bone in your body and leave you to be eaten slowly by the crabs! You aren’t the only warrior my sister knows I will fuck you up!” She said in almost a sinister tone I wanted to stop her but Neteyam smiled and nodded his head respectfully.

“ you have my word.” He said calmly

“ you must go now your sister needs you Luaewe” I gave her a confused look but before I could ask what she meant the connection was ripped from my grasp causing my eyes to fly open.

Only to find the flora blinking violently it wasn’t until I saw Kiri shaking when I realized that is who Fualoua was talking about.

I rushed and swam to her while the other followed urgently behind. With everyone’s help we rushed her to the surface. “ what is wrong why is she like that!” Roxto asked in a worried tone as Neteyam dragged her body into the ilu.

“ go GO bring her to my mother!” Reya blurted out followed by her calling her ilu.

“ wh-what is wrong with my sister? Is she ok is she dying!” Tuk asked frantically as I approached her I connected to her ilu and told her to hold on.

I desperately wanted to answer her but I too had no clue what was going on… but I could hear her whimpers from behind me

Oh Eywa please let her be alright!

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar oc #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #neteyam #avatar smut #avatar way of water #slow burn #atwow neteyam #atwow smut

7 notes · View notes

shopcat · 1 year

Note

elaborate on how people portray steve's parents please!!!! i would like to hear ur thoughts

OH GOD okay i think i have talked about this a little every now and then but i'll stick that specific post i drafted under a cut though because it is 2 o'clock on a tuesday

basically it's like... okay for example. last week a tiktok trended essentially talking about how people made up steve's relationship with his parents being neglectful or abusive (which is true) but the tone being used in the comment section was like inSANE and something i've seen in many different contexts from many different sources it just all highlighted it horribly for a moment there though. but this isn't about that specific tiktok iderc about it. but like people were acting like it was soooo funny so hilarious we love it haha but i eat it up tbh haha i love it when he's abused haha ... ??? like how are people seemingly en masse actually incredibly aware of and able to identify something like that and instead of taking the time to be like actually .. maybe this is weird in a lot of contexts 🤔 they instead just go haha i love it though. like i don't even know... how brains can work like this what is stopping you from attempting to access a voice to your OWN OPINION.. weird. but not the point

on the other side of things at the same time the classic thing that gets said is "haha it's so fucking hilarious he's not neglected it's just made up to make him look sad and give him a tragic back story" why is everything all or nothing with these ANIMALS!!! it's like something can be recognised and it will be a realisation that abuse will be used transparently as a shallow narrative tool to commodify victimhood for .. #fan fiction... but they don't actually like care. because it serves the purpose the author intended (to make people react). which is so fucking depressing like jesus christ. you know it's weird but you "like it anyway" somehow worse imo. like u can always assume someone who depicts something like that could be coming from a personal place of projection or empathy but a comment i've seen before has been like "i love my parents haha we have a good relationship i don't know why i like [abuse] so much" UGH it just skeeves me the fuck out. also u like it cuz u enjoy seeing a character u like experience something hard and then be able to survive it and be comforted and helped... while failing to realise a vast amount of the time it is cheap and dehumanising garbage functionally created to profit off of genuine hardship in people's lives ?! exploitation is content what else is NEW!!!

but then when ppl say it's so "weird" this happens he's not abused that's such a stupid sob story i . can't handle it even MORE. they can see the core of it but lost the compassion to blanket it like why the Fuck do you think it's an appropriate thing to say "how dare people want to relate to a fictional character experiencing things they have" why would you assume every single person is, Like You, happily CONSUMING and eating something like this down to the bone without any care in the world. that abuse victims do not deserve a small amount of comfort or catharsis that people who aren't victims aren't allowed to feel compassion for it that being abused does not make you Used Up and you are able to not only survive but thrive and you as a human being are afforded the RIGHT of happiness + safety. that things like these cannot possibly be the necessary balancing act it's always just literally black and white WHY IS THE WORLD so dark and cold. Maybe because my blinds are closed. that's a metaphor. UGH it just all drives me crazy. i think we know this though.

i don't even think his parents ARE abusive but to i guess throw actual victims under the bus when we're already treated like WELLS of "whump ideas" is such a fucking annoying thing to do. it also drives me crazy when ppl r like he's a rich white cis straight man like boy do i have news about 99% of the entire fucking cast for u <- specifically that they say that cuz they're being like "people r just trying to make him something interesting". abuse is interesting to them btw. also when they bring up jonathan as the Actual Abuse victim to be quite honest i hope jonathan dies in a glue trap right now

anyway basically i don't think exploitation is content and if the only thing you're doing WITH your content is tropeifying serious things like abuse (but this extends into things like disability or mental health or lgbt identity etc) then you're being a dickhead and dressing it up in a very... juvenile way. also i think it's ironic people will go on and on about "complex relationships" and then not actually make them complex because it's just an excuse to paint steve as a poor broken boy who needs to be Saved (by eddie or whatever the fuck honestly it happens with robin too) and as an abuse victim i think it. sucks. even though i do relate to steve and some depictions of it have been ... nice? well-portrayed and nonexploitive. i think it's an interesting read of his character and comes from a solid basis but i will always welcome narrative diversity over the same thing over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. mwah.

#asks #no idea what that says just copy and pasted it to be honest #sts #child abuse tw

5 notes · View notes

endominator · 2 years

Text

Inspired by an anime called Black Clover

im currently watching that rn AND ITS SOOOOOO GOOOODDD

215 notes · View notes

betbeton · 2 years

Note

HELLOO!! Just wanted to say thank you for the request, and I’m also gonna be sending this one in, you might gotta do some research for this one if you don’t know the character but here I go ofc

Can you do Derek Goffard with a S/O who has a Cutthroat Personality from Akudama Drive??

Thank you again!! Take you’re time (:

Derek Goffard × Cutthroat S/O

· GN Reader ·

· A/N - i did hcs/drabble, but if you want a full story let me know! i was pumped to write this so it was cooked up pretty fast- 💃

cut added due to length ·

You two most likely met on one of the desert trips

He was annoyed by your seemingly childish behaviour at the start of the trip

He wasn't shy about voicing his displeasure which earned him a reprimand from Jack

Though once the captives were set loose and your demeanour changed so drastically it caught him off guard

Low-key had him shaking in his tacky boots

He made it a point to keep an eye on you whenever you two were left alone at camp together

Though when he watched you slaughter one of the poor captives he was smitten

The incessant humming of that damned tune you had thought up while Jack debated who to use for first blood was driving Derek insane. He was seriously weighing his options on how mad Jack would be if he caved your head in right then and there, but as the older man announced that your captive would be used for first blood the little grin on your face slipped. Eyes growing dull as an eerie calm took hold of your being, Derek watched slightly unnerved as you walked up to the poor woman you had brought. Grabbing her by the hair and dragging her only to drop her face first into the hot sand between you and Jack. The entire time first blood was being performed Derek watched you as you waited for Jack to give the go ahead to kill the poor woman.

Once you were given permission as the older man fixed his trousers Derek watched in mild fascination as you hacked away at the screaming woman's neck until her head rolled to the side as you carved away at her spine. The look on your face as you admired the blood spurting from her wheezing windpipe was the hottest thing Derek had ever witnessed. He knew that even though Jack would reprimand him at some point he had to have you for himself. After all who would be more perfect for a life partner than someone you can enjoy the finer more . . . horrendous things in life with?

#tpof headcanons #tpof x reader #derek goffard

83 notes · View notes

toukatan · 3 years

Note

You read every gojohime fic???? That's amazing!!! What are your favourites?

hello anonie! i guess i can say i’ve read at least a good 80% of all the fics, at least. probably. most likely because the fic tag at the start of the year was tiny and now the community’s grown so much there’s almost 600 of them. that’s insane to me. like hello?

i have a lotta fics that come to mind, that i should honestly make a master post on because i love them all. so here are a few many that came to mind immediately as i typed this up.

gojohime fic recommendations!

multichapter

limitations by ohmytheon

“Parenthood chooses you," her mother used to tell her, but Utahime never understood that saying more than the moment she realized she was pregnant with Gojo Satoru's child. They were never meant to be something serious - never meant to be more than they were - and yet they both suddenly find themselves in a world that doesn't care about their desires - and that brings them closer in a way that no one else can understand. It won't be easy and it won't be kind to either of them, but it appears as if the universe has other plans for them

no one is what they were before by ohmytheon

The world broke when Gojo Satoru turned on jujutsu society. It's not the hopeful place it was before, but Utahime has never been one to give up. Until she's placed in a dangerous position directly in his path, and she finds herself trapped in a web that doesn't seem intent on ever letting her go.

and touch me like you never by ohmytheon

In public, Gojo is a special grade bastard, especially to Utahime, and has been all their lives. He knows exactly what insults to throw and what buttons to push to drive her up a wall. In private, however, he's got quite a few other things to tell and show her, which only makes things more confusing. It would be easier if she could avoid him entirely, but for some reason, he won't let her go entirely.

gravity by aerfei

This is Utahime, fierce and indomitable, and this is Satoru, who despite holding the world’s regard, still craves something that Utahime has had all her life. Coming together is sometimes an act of desperation, and sometimes a deliberate choice. Or: An Iori Utahime character study, through the lens of her relationship with Gojo Satoru, starting from the beginning and ending at the Goodwill Event arc. Manga spoilers and (at least 95%) canon-compliant through (at least) chapter 135.

count every single leaf in autumn by florieneofthesea

“I told my family we’re dating.” Utahime’s hand hovers over the door. “What?!” (or: Gojo tells his family that he's dating Utahime to get them off his back, so of course they invite her to the dreaded family dinner™)

favourite colour by otherthingsonhold

At 28, Satoru Gojo's responsibilities only start to multiply. With his clan looking to him to lead the family, and the balance of the universe in his hands, Gojo isn't thinking of much else. But when his mother brings something to his attention, the only thing Gojo can do is follow through. But how is Utahime Iori part of all of this?

gojo catoru by ashittywriter

Utahime is tasked to catsit a suspiciously large Persian dollface cat with pristine white hair, the most boop-able nose, and to top it off the cutest cerulean eyes. Too bad the cat also happens to be her idiotic colleague Gojo Satoru.

at the tail-end of spring by florieneofthesea

Utahime doesn't expect to remember her ex's number off by heart but it comes in handy when she's a little less than sober outside a club in a city she's not familiar with and her battery on three percent. She just wishes things turned out differently for them. (Or, post-break up exploration where outer forces refuse to let them have their happy ending.)

a second chance by onewordmore

In another world, it wasn't Geto who sneered down at humanity, regarding them to be worthless monkeys that deserved to die. In another world, it wasn't Geto who openly defied the Jujutsu Council and brought down terror and fear to all. In another world, it wasn't just Amanai Riko who died that day, amidst the cheers and delighted cries of the insane. And Utahime was going to learn, first hand, the consequences of her own death.

from you to me by onewordmore

A drabble series regarding Gojo and Utahime. From fluff to smut to angst to love. This is going to have it all.

oneshots

oceansize by aerfei

The marriage is arranged by their families, small clans both, with all their hopes and traditions laid gently upon the shoulders of their only heirs -- and yet, this distance is impassable.

under the cover of darkness by ohmytheon

It takes a little alcohol, early morning hours, and a game of truth or dare for Gojo and Utahime to admit some difficult truths to each other.

risk/reward by ohmytheon

No punishment had ever been more effective in making Gojo do his actual job than receiving praise from his secretary - or more grueling than when Utahime withheld it.

like a good roommate by ohmytheon

Utahime has a problem: her bed wasn't delivered to the new apartment. Her ridiculous roommate, Gojo, has a solution - but he's kind of panicking on the inside.

aware of us by halspur

“We did alright, didn’t we?” Gojo put his phone down after taking several dozen photos of Tsumiki walking across the stage, his eyes soft. “I mean, we were just kids, too.”

love song by halspur

“Because you’re weak.” Gojo said, muffled into the thin skin of her throat. “I can’t leave you alone.”

tear you apart by halspur

“I don’t want to be mean to you,” Utahime’s cheek was pressed into his spine, her voice muffled. “I like you.”

cuddles are for clean boyfriends by just_trying_my_best_everyday

Utahime finds Gojo Satoru sitting right behind the door, blindfold hanging on his neck, completely soaked in blood and petting her cat with both hands. And he stinks.

honey by florieneofthesea

Gojo Satoru experiences love a decade before he fully realises it.

roots by florieneofthesea

At the start of winter, Utahime starts to cough up blood. She thinks maybe its just the lingering damage from her last mission, but the coughing persists and it starts to scratch her throat, and itch at her lungs and when she finally makes the trip to Tokyo to ask Shoko for her help, she doesn't even get the first word out. Shoko welcomes her at the entrance to Tokyo Metropolitan Technical School and Utahime hacks up a single, pale blue petal, smattered with blood. She stares down at the flora on the ground and wonders if she's been cursed. Utahime looks up, and Shoko's eyes are wide.

to have and to hold by ashittywriter

“M’sorry," Gojo said his voice slurring at the end. "But please go away, I have a girlfriend." Utahime blinked in confusion. What the fuck?

souvenir by PrettyKittyLuvsU

“Aha!” Gojo tugged something out of his pocket, his long fingers curled around it as he held his hand behind his back. His other hand waved before him, a cheeky grin splitting his lips. “Ora, ora! Hold out your hand.” Utahime stared flatly. “Ora, ora!” Gojo persisted, continuing to wave his hand as he grinned. “Hold out your hand already!” Utahime scowled at the hand swaying infront of her face. She had half a mind to slap the man instead, but her students were closely watching. Even Gojo’s students, the second years mainly—for Sukuna’s vessel was apologizing profusely as the brown haired girl continued kicking him while the quiet one made no effort to stop her— looked in fascination at whatever ridiculous souvenir Gojo wanted to hand her. Utahime slowly lifted her arm, already planning on throwing the thing back in Gojo’s annoying face. Gojo gets Utahime a very special kind of souvenir. Set during the start of the Goodwill arc.

dayum this exposes me huh? i do be reading a lot but what can i say i love to see it. all these fics are amazing, to the writers y’all are doing fantastically like my goodness you be really putting ya girl in a loop with some of these fics with your plot-lines and doing it flawlessly. can’t thank them enough for them, their hard work and time!

be sure to show the writers some love and support with comments, bookmarks and fight that dayum kudos button when it smiles at you because lemme leave more—

i think they’d really really appreciate it when they hear the bing and be sure to check out all of their stories including the ones in the pairing tag! happy readings 😙✨

#there’s so much more. i gotta make a master post but yeah send your love to the writers #they’re amazing and deserve all the love and support #🤍💫✨#gojohime #fic rec #anon #asks #replies #nitatalks

452 notes · View notes

angelmavmurdock · 4 years

Text

The Boy Next Door

WARNINGS: SMUT, ORAL (fem+mal), DIRTY TALK, PRAISE, CHOKING, THIGH RIDING, MENTIONS OF DRUGS.

inexperienced!reader x stoner!tom

(inspired by Ginny and Georgia)

The new house was a lot bigger than our last house. But of course that's due to my mother marrying a man 30 years older than her who owns some workout company. She's a gold digger is what I'm trying to say. Ever since I can remember, whatever guy she was dating dictated where we would live, where my brother and I would go to school, what I'd wear, how I'd act and even what friends I had. Or, lack there of. Always being the 'new girl' was beginning to get exhausting so I never really had friends. If I gained any friends then I knew that we'd get close then I'd move and we'd stay in touch for about a month before they move on and forget about me.

y/n. Always the new girl.

"y/n would you help us, please?" Mum asked in an annoyed tone, brushing past me with a box in her hands.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, walking to the car and beginning to lift stuff out and into the house. It was a huge driveway - unnecessarily large - and everyone on the street was the same. Everyone in the town was the same. It was a rich, suburban area. No place I hadn't seen before but we definitely didn't belong. My Mum just shapeshifted into whoever she thought Greg would want. Greg being my 'step-dad'. He's 63. My Mum is 33. How is that even allowed.

We unloaded everything from the cars and waited on the trucks arriving with everything else. Cameron and I scuffed our shoes as we strolled through the huge house, taking in everything and familiarising ourselves with our new home.

"I'm so glad I'm not at school anymore because being in a class with snobby assholes like these people would be shit." Cameron said, crossing his arms as he gestured to the family across the road.

I walked over to him and watched too. A family of 5 - two girls, one boy, Mum and a Dad - were dressed rather nicely in dresses and suits. They came out of their house and waltzed to their Tesla nonchalantly with their noses in the air. The eldest girl looked around my age. She would probably be in some of my classes.

"I'm not looking forward to Monday." I groaned.

We stood in comfortable silence, watching the Tesla inquisitively as it drove off with the family inside.

"Trucks arrived!" Mum called from the front door.

We both shared our sibling look with one another then walked back out with reluctance. Mum was standing in the middle of the driveway with her hands on her hips, watching as Greg approached the van and signed some forms off. Cameron and I walked down and stood either side of her. She grinned and wrapped her arms around us, rubbing both our backs simultaneously.

"I've got a good feeling about this, guys." She took a deep breath.

"At least someone does." I remarked.

She ignored the comment and we watched Greg do practically nothing. I mean he was basically an ancient artefact.

"I've heard your new school is wonderful. The pass grade levels are insanely good and there's a lot of people there to befriend." Mum spoke positively.

"My last 6 schools also had a lot of people to befriend but of course, I always lose them because we move so bloody much." I clenched my jaw.

"Well...this time it's different."

I scoffed, "You always say that."

"I swear this time!"

"And that!"

"y/n I don't know what you want me to do. Greg is a great guy who is supporting us fully! I mean, look at this place! Surely you can't be mad we're living here." Mum shook her head, removing her arm from my waist.

"I'd rather live in a box with just you two than live in a huge house with some random guy in a town I hate." I argued then stormed away dramatically up the driveway.

I got into the house and slammed the door, grabbing the banister and stomping up the flight of stairs. There was one flight then a landing then another flight. This house was too bloody big.

I finally found what was meant to be my new room and slammed that door shut. Just for good measure. I huffed and sighed as I leaned my back against the white, wooden door.

The room was stark white and empty, only a bay window to give some character. I might hate Greg and my mother and this whole situation but I loved this bay window. I snaked in between the boxes and suitcases and sat on the wooden ledge. I kicked my shoes off before sitting my feet up and watching outside. My room faced the front of the house so I could see the movers offloading furniture and boxes off while Greg stood helplessly.

I groaned and leaned my head back, closing my eyes, just wanting to crawl into a shell and hide.

A slam of a car door forced my eyelids open and I jumped slightly.

"Where do you think you're going?!"

I heard a woman's voice from outside. I looked outside curiously, scanning the street with my eyes to find where the noise was coming from. It finally caught my eye and I had to sit up and switch sides of the window to look properly.

A red-headed woman and a curly headed boy were standing in the driveway.

Our next door neighbours apparently.

The boy was around my age, maybe a little older. He stumbled a little as he walked up the drive, his mother - I think - watching from behind her car door.

"I'm going to bed!" He shouted back.

"Not now you're not, you have to talk to me, Thomas!" She shouted, slamming her own car door.

Thomas.

He hung his head on his shoulders, "I need to sleep, mum."

"Well I just had to bail you out of jail for marijuana possession and use so you better talk to me."

Oof, I thought. He was a stoner. A criminal basically. But he was attractive from what you could see. Dark brown curly hair, tall enough, a sharp jawline, a good body from where I was sitting and a good style too - a hoodie with a denim jacket and jeans. But he was my neighbour. And a stoner.

"Mum can we just talk later?" He pleaded, running a hand through his hair.

"Tom we will talk about this right now." She said sternly.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning his back to her and walking away. I watched him with a slight smile. He really was attractive.

"Thomas Holland you get back here right now!" His mother shouted.

"When I'm not on drugs, I'll talk." He stated.

His mother stuttered then just grunted in annoyance, allowing him to go inside.

I kept my eyes on him, my smile still on my face as he started to walk into his house. He suddenly turned his head with a confused expression then looked up. Straight at me through my window.

I froze in shock, eyes widening, mouth parting. He slowly smirked and nodded his head at me before going inside.

I sunk off the window ledge in humiliation, snaking to the floor and mumbling how stupid I was and how embarrassing that was.

"y/n! Come meet your neighbour!" Mum shouted up.

My ears perked up then I leaped up to look out the bay window. The boy next door's mum was standing outside, chatting to my mum.

I hardly learned anything talking to his mum. Her name was Nikki Holland, she had a husband named Dominic who was a comedian and a writer. She was a photographer. Along with Tom - the oldest - she had three other sons: twins named Harry and Sam and then Paddy who was a good bit younger. I can't remember the exact age. My mum had nosily asked her about Tom and that was the only part I listened to.

"He's 18,"

"Dropped out of school last year,"

"Says he wants to be an actor,"

"Oh today? He got in trouble from the police about...you know what, that isn't important."

"You look so young to be a mother to a teenager. How old are you?"

"And you're 18, too?" "Still in school?" "What do you want to do?" "Ah, smart girl."

The conversation was brief and slightly awkward. She was clearly stressed about Tom and his situation so I slid out of the engagement pretty fast and escaped up to my room.

During the entirety of the weird conversation, the movers had put my bed, mattress and desk into my room. It felt a lot more homier.

It was the next night and I had finished dinner and immediately gone upstairs. I was not participating in any sort of 'family time'. I sat down on my bed and scrolled through my phone aimlessly.

A thump outside drew my attention away and I looked to my right at the regular window which faced our neighbours house.

I sat up and squinted to see out into the dark. It was Tom. He was halfway out his window.

I didn't even realise our windows faced each other. And here he was, one leg out the window and his other following on. He had thrown a backpack down which caused the dull thump on the grass - which I only assume contains weed - and now he was escaping his house.

I got out of bed and walked to the glass, peeking out to see what he was doing.

He climbed impressively down the wall and jumped the last few metres, landing in a Spider-Man like pose. Admirable, I thought as he picked up his back pack and slid a skateboard out from a bush. He brushed it off then slotted it under his armpit.

He was sporting a black t-shirt with a dog-tag necklace and some distressed deep blue jeans with a denim jacket over top and a baseball cap placed on backwards that sat on top of his curly head of hair.

He looked around in case he was going to get caught then looked up. Directly at me. Again.

This time I didn't shy away. I just made a gesture and mouthed 'what the fuck?' then he laughed to himself and looked back up at me.

'Don't be so nosy, neighbour', he mouthed.

I squinted and shook my head in disapproval. He just smirked boyishly then walked to his driveway where he flipped his skateboard and skated off into the night.

I gulped and sat back on my bed, feeling my heart rate slow back down.

But curiosity filled my brain.

Where was he going?

Just as Sunday night came around, I had finished decorating my room. My pictures and paintings hung on the wall, along with some mirrors to fill the blank space of the white walls. My bed was cosy and was filled with throw blankets, fluffy sheets and way too many pillows. My desk was organised and my laptop sat atop the white surface, making it look a lot more professional than I had anticipated.

I had turned my bay window into a reading nook. A few blankets lay on the ledge and a couple pillows too, along with my current read.

I had seen Tom sneak out a few nights ago but I tried to stay away from the regular window, only ever sitting on the bay one because I couldn't see Toms room from there.

However, it didn't shield me from him completely.

I would see him outside in their front garden playing games with his brothers and sometimes I'd watch them from just over the top of my book. The way he played with their dog was cute. I had gathered her name was Tessa and I knew she was a staffy because we used to have one. He'd throw balls or sticks for her and sometimes she'd clamber on top of him with excitement. He'd dodge her licks but still clap her because she was excited after all.

Every once in a while he'd catch me looking down at him or I'd catch him looking up at me. Whenever it happened, it seemed as if everyone and everything disappeared. Like it was just us. Tunnel view. But then one of us would look away or stick the middle finger up or mouth 'fuck off'. Our unusual and silent rivalry was the closest thing to a friend I'd had in years.

But now, Mum, Greg and Cameron were going out to a nice dinner to celebrate the first week of living here. I thought it was an incredibly stupid idea so I decided to stay home alone and eat pizza.

They all left and Cameron immediately texted me.

Cammando: I hate you for leaving me

y/n: your fault not mine :)

I didn't really know what to do. I walked around the house and asked Alexa to play some songs but I couldn't be bothered dancing. I wasn't really in a dancing mood.

I just gave up and went back upstairs into my room. My windows were still open so before I got changed I went to close them and put down the blinds. I closed the bay window and then I went to the next one.

I looked straight ahead into Toms room and my jaw dropped.

He was hopping and hyping himself up in front of a punch bag...shirtless with gloves on. I watched as he punched the bag skilfully, moving his feet as if it was a choreographed routine. His damp curly hair hung onto his forehead and I could see glimpses of airpods in his ears. His back muscles tightened and flexed as he threw punches.

He moved around the bag and now I could see the front of him. He had a very visible six pack. I definitely didn't expect that from the stoner boy next door. If I thought he was attractive before...now I don't even know what I would call him.

Otherworldly, perhaps?

He suddenly looked up and I gasped, turning and slamming my back against the wall next to the window, wincing at the pain. Hopefully he didn't see me...

It was creepy to be staring at him. I shouldn't have done it.

I peeked back and he was back to beating the poor punch bag.

God, he was so hot.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and ears, burning with lust. I gulped and looked away, closing the blind to stop myself from looking anymore.

I got changed into shorts and a burgundy Cambridge University jumper that used to belong to my Dad. He gave it to me the first time he properly left for a while and I still have it even though I see him more often.

I hopped downstairs and played some music while I sorted the pizza and chips out to eat.

I sat and ate while listening to music. Once I was finished, I cleaned everything up then went back upstairs into my room, shutting the door behind me and jumping onto my bed.

I scrolled through tiktok aimlessly, just filling the time before it was an acceptable hour to go to bed as a teenager.

I switched apps to Instagram when I lay on my side, my back facing my windows. I scrolled through for a while but a certain picture caught my eye.

I had to blink a few times to really look.

It was my so called 'best friend' who I hadn't talked to since I moved twice after befriending her and my ex-boyfriend. My ex. My only boyfriend I've ever had. My first kiss, my first date...my first time. My only time. We only had sex twice. Three if you count foreplay but I faked it. Actually I faked it all of the times. He was never good at it and I had no idea how to go about telling him because to be honest, I had no idea what to do either.

But my ex-best friend and my ex-boyfriend? She didn't even tell me. She didn't even think to ask me.

They were dressed nicely and holding each other's waists. It looked a little awkward but most of those pictures are because they are being taken by parents.

I looked through the comments.

OMG! Hot couple alert! You two are the cutest just marry already yall are too happy it's been the best year of my life baby

"WHAT?!" I exclaimed, sitting up sharply.

They had been together for a YEAR.

"Ugh!" I groaned and threw my phone across my room, hearing it basically break against the wooden floor.

"Rough night?" A voice spoke from my window.

I screamed, jumping with fear and successfully landing my ass on the floor.

I panicked and grabbed the first thing I could use as a weapon. A glass of water. It would have to do.

I quickly flung the water at the intruder, "WHAT THE FUCK, GET OUT!" I screamed, my eyes closed tightly in fear.

I heard the water splash over them but they still came in. I just threw the glass at them. It thumped against them dully and then crashed onto the floor.

"Ouch."

I slowly opened one eye and looked up at the figure who had just entered my room.

It was Tom.

He was in a grey t-shirt and black basketball shorts with a baseball cap placed on backwards, a backpack thrown over his shoulder.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING CLIMBING INTO MY ROOM?!" I shouted, standing up.

He was taller than me by a few inches but we were basically at eye level.

"I was clearly looking for some company but you then threw water over me and then a literal glass." He spoke calmly, wiping a hand over his wet face.

"How the hell are you being so calm about this?! You just intruded into my home!" I exclaimed.

"Well, darling, I have a thing called weed. It's great for calming you down. You clearly need some." He slung his bag around and went to open it.

"W-what? No, I'm not smoking weed!"

He sighed and slung his bag back, "Well, why are you being so uptight about this I just wanted to say hello." He smiled boyishly.

I licked my teeth in annoyance. He was so fucking attractive but he was so fucking annoying and I didn't even know him.

"You need to get out. I didn't invite you in here so you are not welcome." I stated, crossing my arms.

"Okay, yes. But also- my mother nearly just caught me sneaking out so it's a cover if she comes round here."

"Why would she come here?" I asked.

"Because she's a mad woman who hates me having a life apparently."

"You're an 18 year old who sneaks out of the house to smoke weed. I wouldn't call that a life." I remarked.

He smirked, "You know what, I like you."

He sat his bag down then started to walk slowly around my room, inspecting my pictures and decorations intricately.

I stuttered, not knowing how to react to this whole situation.

"I'm sorry, what the hell are you doing?" I asked, brows furrowed.

"You're quite an interesting person, I must say."

I sighed and shook my head at the ceiling.

"Ah, this makes sense." He picked up one of my camera's.

I scoffed, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He sat it down and picked up the next one, shrugging with a smug smirk.

"You like looking at things."

I gulped, red rushing to my cheeks.

"Clearly very beautiful things." He said, referring to my pictures on the walls.

"I'm just honoured I'm one of them."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, "You wish you were."

"Oh but I am, aren't I?" He challenged, sitting my camera down.

I licked my back teeth and watched with heavy breath as he paced towards me slowly.

"I've never taken a picture of you before." I said matter-of-factly.

"You might not have but you definitely love a good stare, don't you?" He asked, his left eyebrow quirked cockily.

I noticed the unusualness of it and then looked into his dark, dilated eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I said quietly.

He laughed lowly, "So you weren't staring at me earlier when I was working out?"

I stuttered as we came face to face.

"You're stubborn but I feel like I know you," He placed his fingers under my chin, tracing up my jaw and to my ear where he tucked some of my hair behind.

"Because I've been looking at you, too." He whispered.

I practically melted and a whimper left my mouth, eyes rolling back.

He chuckled, "Already needy for me I see."

I looked up at him as his thumb swiped over my lips.

This whole situation was insane. I didn't even know how we got here. I didn't know how to feel, either. I had never been turned on like this before.

He slowly pushed his thumb into my mouth and I moaned around it, tasting his skin.

"Good girl." He praised, taking his thumb out and replacing it with his tongue.

I moaned again, feeling his lips on mine. His hands gripped my waist and I tangled my fingers into his hair.

He tasted of weed but I didn't mind it at all. He pushed me backwards until I hit the wall next to my bed. He gripped my hips tightly and I kept my hands in his hair. He must have gone for a shower since his workout because he smelled fresh and clean and his hair was damp.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was kissing a stranger. Who climbed into my room.

"Wait-" He pulled away briefly.

"Is your family home?" He asked.

"No, they're out all night." I answered breathlessly.

He smirked, "Good."

He suddenly lifted me up and I squealed, automatically wrapping my legs around his taut torso.

His tongue slipped between my lips again and I welcomed it. He lay me down on my bed and started to kiss down to my jaw and my neck.

I gasped and tugged his hair when he started kissing a certain spot on my skin. He got the message that I liked it and started licking and sucking on it. I arched my back slightly, moaning as he worked his tongue and lips on my skin.

He left the spot on my neck but kissed over my skin as he started to lift my jumper up. Panic and nerves suddenly settled in and I grabbed his hands, stopping his movements.

"You alright?" He asked breathlessly.

I swallowed, "I uh...I've never-"

His eyes widened, "You're a virgin?"

"No, no. I've had sex it just...it just wasn't that great." I bit my lip nervously.

He encased my lips in his and I relaxed to his touch.

"Do you want to?" He asked against my lips.

"Yes, fuck yes." I practically moaned into his mouth.

"I just need you to guide me through it." I said in between kisses.

He pulled away, "I can do that." He smiled.

He started to lift my jumper off and this time I let him. I sat up and he removed it, throwing it off the bed. He admired the pink bralette I was wearing and immediately pressed his lips and tongue to the valley of my breasts. He nipped and sucked on my skin and I moaned as he palmed one of my boobs while leaving marks on the other.

He came back up and kissed me again but flipped us over so I was now on top. He sat up and shuffled back against my headboard and pulled me onto his lap.

He brushed my hair off my shoulders and cupped my chin, taking me in.

"D'you wanna try riding my thigh?" He asked lowly.

I gulped, "S-sure."

He smirked and I straddled his left thigh, holding his shoulders.

"Just rock your hips back and forwa-"

"Fuck," I moaned, the rubbing of the different materials causing my core to clench.

"Does that feel good?" He asked, his breath fanning over my face.

His hands rested on my hips and he helped my movements.

"Feels so good." I moaned.

"Yeah? You like riding my thigh?" He prompted, his hands making me speed up.

I fisted the material of his shirt in my hands as my mouth fell agape with pleasure.

"Riding my thigh like such a good girl." He praised.

"Fuck!" I hung my head back, his words going straight to my core.

He chuckled cockily, "D'you like when I call you that? Huh?"

I nodded, too flustered with these new senses of pleasure to speak.

His hand travelled up into my hair and tugged on it by my roots. A louder moan than I would have liked escaped my lips.

"I asked you a question, answer me." He said sternly.

"Fuck! Yes, I love it when you call me that." I answered pathetically.

"Good girl." He praised, letting go of my hair and rocking my hips on him.

I felt an immense amount of pleasure build up and it felt as if something was going to snap in me.

"Oh shit, I- fuck!" I furrowed my brows in concentration and confusion.

"R'you gonna cum, darling?" He asked, almost shocked.

"I don't- fuck - know!" I moaned, feeling the knot inside my stomach about to snap.

But before that could even happen I was being flipped back onto my back and Tom was ripping off my shorts and panties, diving in between my legs with lust.

His hands held my thighs and brought me closer to him. His lips attached to my clit and sucked, giving me a whole new feeling.

"Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes!" I moaned shamelessly, tugging his hair and fisting the bedsheets.

"Go on, darling. Cum in my mouth for me. Taste so good. Please, love."

The mixture between his words and his nicknames for me and the fact his mouth was working wonders on my core completely sent me over the edge: an experience I had never had before.

"Holy shit! Tom! Yes!" I subconsciously tightened my thighs around his head and my hands practically pushed him completely onto me.

He continued riding me through my high until I unclenched my thigh and he pulled away slowly.

I lay breathless and in a state of shock and euphoria at the same time.

"You okay?" He asked soothingly, rubbing his hand over my bare thigh as he came up to kiss me.

"Yeah I've...I've never-"

"You've never came before?" Tom asked, baffled by me.

"Nope..."

He kept his eyes on me but slipped a hand down to my core again. I bucked my hips against his hand with a gasp as he moved his fingers in circles over my core.

"You've never even touched yourself?" He asked lowly.

I bit my lip and shook my head.

"You're so wet for me, darling, fuck." He cursed.

He suddenly dipped a finger into my core and I moaned. He curled it up and I gripped his arm tightly.

"What d'you want?" He asked.

"I want you, Tom, please." I bit my lip.

He smiled and sat back, his hand coming away from my clit, leaving me feeling empty. He shed his shirt and I finally got to look at his chiselled torso up close. He then slid his shorts and boxers off and my jaw dropped at the sight of him.

He was semi-hard but he was already bigger than my ex. A lot bigger.

He pumped his member in his hand, "You sure about this?"

I stuttered, completely distracted by his actions than his words.

"What? You like the look of it? Hmm? Wanna suck me off?" He asked, his hand cupping my chin and sliding his thumb into my mouth again.

I moaned at his words and nodded.

"You want to suck me off, darling? You sure?" He asked, removing his thumb.

"Yes, fuck Tom, I wanna suck you off." I moaned.

"Good girl." He praised.

We switched positions so he was sitting against the headboard and now I was in between his legs.

"I don't know how to..." I said shakily.

"You're okay," He gathered my hair up in his hands.

"Do whatever feels natural and I'll tell you if it's good, yeah?"

I nodded and gulped, moving my mouth closer to his member. I pumped him in my hand a few times and I could almost feel him harden right there. I had done this part before, at least.

I lowered my mouth onto him, swirling my tongue around his lip. He hissed slightly and gripped my hair tighter. I slowly let my mouth down on him and came back up.

"That's it, good girl." He praised.

I moaned and continued bobbing my head slowly on him, finding a rhythm. I held his thigh for support as I got faster, easing into it.

"Fuck, darling, feels so good." He groaned.

The taste of him in my mouth was amazing, pre cum already escaping onto my tongue.

I slackened my jaw and took as much of him as I could then pumped the rest in my hand.

"Holy shit! Fuck!" He held my head there and thrusted up.

His member hit the back of my throat but I didn't mind it at all. He made sure I was okay then did it again. And again. And again. Until he was continuously throat fucking me. I enjoyed it, surprisingly. The obscene sounds my mouth was making was not only making Tom more aroused, but also me.

I felt some drool drip down from my mouth onto my chin and even onto his lower stomach but I didn't care.

"Fuck, love those pretty little sounds coming from your throat, baby." He groaned.

I moaned, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"Such a good girl."

But then he pulled me off of him. I looked at him in confusion but he flipped me onto my back sooner than I could say anything.

"Need to be in you before I cum, princess." He said, kissing me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth.

"Ready?" He asked.

I felt his tip brush up and down my folds. I gripped his arms and nodded, closing my eyes to concentrate.

"Hey, look at me." He said.

I looked up into his gorgeous chocolate eyes.

"Breathe in," He instructed.

I did as he said.

"And out."

As I breathed out, he pushed into me slowly.

I moaned and arched my back at the feeling of him inside of me. His technique worked.

"You okay?" He asked caringly.

I nodded, biting my lip.

"You can move."

He started thrusting slowly in and out of me, my arousal making it a lot easier for him to move.

"So fuckin' tight, darling." He cursed.

I wrapped my thighs around his waist and he bottomed me out.

"Yes!" I moaned, my back arching so our chests were touching.

"Does that feel good?" He asked.

I hummed, "Faster, please."

He smirked, "As you wish."

His thrusts got gradually faster and my mouth hung open in a silent moan. He brushed past my g-spot with every movement and I scraped his back with my finger nails.

"So fucking good," I gasped.

He sped his thrusts completely and his head fell into the crook of my neck, leaving sloppy kisses on my skin.

"So big! Yes!" I moaned pornographically as he perfectly met my g-spot.

He reached a hand down and started rubbing my clit in skilful circles. I screamed out in overwhelming pleasure as I felt the now familiar feeling come back in my stomach.

"So good for me, darling. Been such a good girl. You gonna cum?" Tom whispered his praises into my ear.

"So close! Oh my god!" I curled my toes and dug my fingernails into his back.

"Come on darling. Feel so good around my cock. Feel so fucking good. You're a fucking angel, y/n. Fuck." He moaned.

I rolled my eyes back at his words. God his words.

"I'm gonna cum!" I squealed, eyes squeezing shut.

"Look at me when you cum, love."

I could hardly hear his voice anymore as I felt my second high approaching.

"I said-"

I gasped as I felt his hand around my throat, pressing the sides of my neck, activating some unknown pleasure button.

"Look at me when you cum all over my fucking cock." He grunted, his dark, dilated eyes staring into mine.

I kept my eyes on him as my high began to wash over me. His thrusts kept the same pace but his fingers moved faster, spurring my orgasm along.

"Yes! Fuck, feels so- yes!" I moaned.

I was extremely loud, I'm surprised the police hadn't come knocking asking about it.

My high seemed to be everlasting. Tom began to pull out but I kept my legs wrapped around him.

"Want you to cum in me, Tom. Please." I begged.

"You sure?" He asked, holding his orgasm back.

"Yes! Please! Need your cum in me." I moaned seductively against his lips.

"Fuck- so good for me- yes!"

I felt as he stilled in me, and as his cum painted my walls. His face contorted in levels of pleasure as he finished and I was finally coming down from my own high.

He pulled out after a second and collapsed next to me.

We both lay together, not saying a word, just listening to each other's breathing calm.

After a minute or two, he turned to face me.

"That- was so fucking good." He laughed.

"It was." I smiled back.

He reached a hand over to my face and brushed my hair behind my ear. I softened into his touch and hummed.

But that bliss was broken quickly.

"Hello?! We're home!"

I gasped, shooting up on my bed.

"Is that your mum?!" Tom whisper shouted.

"Yes! You need to go like now!" I whispered back.

He scurried off the bed and into his boxers and clothes, shakily putting on his shirt and attempting to put his shoes on quickly but leaving them untied.

I grabbed his backpack and handed it to him.

"Thank you," He smiled, taking it from me and heading for the window again.

He swung a leg out but then hesitated.

"Oh and uh-"

He held his hand out.

"I'm Tom, by the way." He grinned.

I smiled, shaking his hand.

"I'm y/n. Nice to meet you, neighbour."

"Nice to meet you, too." He winked, before climbing out the window, down the wall and back into his own house.

Nice to meet you indeed.

A/N: this is written for my amazing friend Caitlin and it's her birthday today! and she gave me all the details for this piece so i hope you guys enjoyed!

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland smuts #Smut #tom holland smut #stoner au #innocent au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #fluff #ginny and marcus #oneshot

885 notes · View notes

crispy-chan · 2 years

Text

Christmas EveL: The Heist | 2

a collaboration of : @hyunnows @crispy-chan @pufflix for the HOI ficmas event

summary: you’ve always had a strange affinity for the outlawed holiday known as christmas. chris, your boyfriend, never understood your dangerous fascination with something so incredibly illegal. now, when you’ve decided to hold a christmas party that could very likely get you killed, will he and his friends help you? successfully pulling off this insanely risky heist will mean you get to host the party of the century. But if one thing goes wrong, the government will come for you all…

pairing: bang chan x f.reader

genre: fluff, very mild angst; action, romance, humor, heist!au

wc: 6.2k

warnings: language, heists, mentions of oppressive government and guns, mild innuendos (PG-13)

a/n: hello. this is a repost of the second chapter of Christmas EveL. we got full permission to repost this chapter from the op (who deactivated). if you knew them, you likely know what happened, so if this makes you uncomfortable, don't read. our goal is to not allow the series that we worked hard on and had so much fun writing go to waste. nothing more, nothing less. that being said, if you enjoy the series, do let us know :))

|| masterlist

⇦ previous | series mlist | next ⇨

"How are we even going to do this?" Chris demands, all but wringing his hands with worry now that Jisung and his friend had arrived.

At that moment, Minho yanks out a chair at the table with an obnoxiously loud scrape, plopping down into the seat with a satisfied smirk. "I've got a plan."

"You've got a plan?" you deadpan, disbelief dripping from your voice. "How is that even possible?"

"We literally just started talking about this, like, yesterday!" Chris adds incredulously.

With a nonchalant shrug, Minho says, "What can I say? I'm experienced with this sort of thing."

There's a beat of silence.

"We're breaking into a government facility," you say slowly, very much questioning whether Jisung is hanging out with the right kind of people.

"Don't ask."

"I don't know about you guys," Jisung suddenly interrupts, plopping into the seat beside his best friend, "but I'm curious about this plan."

Chris lets out a sigh that sounds much too world-weary to be coming from a man of his age. "Fine. Let's hear it."

***

"First of all, Felix is our getaway driver."

"Felix? He doesn't seem like the kind of person to stay cool under that sort of pressure…"

"Just trust me."

It's dark when Felix pulls up in his black van. The city is quiet except for the howling wind, which makes the snowflakes whirl like a tornado of white. It's practically a blizzard outside. The perfect cover.

"Guys, are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes, Chris," you sigh for the millionth time.

You have to admit, you all look like characters out of some super spy action flick. Decked out all in black. Ski masks pulled over your faces. You can all but see Chan cringing at himself internally.

Jisung, peering between the blinds of the window, straightens and turns to face the three of you. His face is white, but bright with excitement. "That's the signal."

"He'll drive us up to the barbed wire fence around the facility. It's supposed to snow that night, so hopefully no one will see us."

"'Hopefully'?" you echoed, a nervous edge to your voice.

"Don't overthink it."

"I brought snacks!" Felix chirps as Minho yanks open the door and you all pile inside.

"That's great, Lix!" You try to keep your voice upbeat for the sake of your own sanity. And try not to think about how a metaphorical six-year-old is your designated get-away driver.

"I'm just a genius like that," the blonde says smugly, adjusting his black beanie on his fluffy head. "Now, who wants the Oreos?"

"Felix, maybe we should start driving now and pass out snacks later," Minho cuts in.

With a pout, Felix shifts the gear into drive. "Rude."

"I'd like the Oreos, please," mutters Jisung.

"Once we're at the fence, Ji will do his thing."

"Be annoying?" you snorted, only to be pinned by a hurt glare from the boy in question.

"Uncalled for!"

Chris wavered, looking torn between remaining aloof from the whole escapade and keeping everyone on track. "I suppose 'his thing' is hacking?"

The grin that came to Minho's face was almost feral. "You know it."

Jisung sighs with pure bliss, laptop perched on his lap as you feed him Oreos. "I don't think there's anything more satisfying than bypassing government firewalls."

"I can think of something," Felix chortles, wiggling his eyebrows. Minho delivers a quick smack to the back of his head. "Ow!"

"How's it coming?" you wonder, poking your head in front of the screen. Lines upon lines of code flash by, hurting your eyes almost as badly as strobe lights. How Jisung could look at this mess of numbers and gibberish for hours on end, you had no idea.

"Move your head outta the way," whines your friend. "I can't see anything."

Oops. Sheepishly, you move back, placing another Oreo on his tongue to compensate for the inconvenience.

"Mm, thank you," he hums, wiggling happily.

Minutes pass, and they feel like years as you repeatedly glance out the window towards the government facility. It's the giant complex where they take all the confiscated items to be recorded, processed, examined, sorted, and then exported to the burning site. It's hidden by the swirling snow storm outside, but that doesn't stop you from anxiously wondering if they can see you. The entire van goes quiet, the only sounds being the humming of the heater, howling of the wind, and clacking of Jisung's fingers on the keyboard.

"I'm in!"

His sudden shout makes you jump in your seat, but the others only move in closer, excitement written on their faces. Even Chris doesn't look paranoid out of his mind for once…

Minho grins, staring over Jisung's shoulder at the screen. "You know what to do."

"Aye aye, captain." With a sarcastic chuckle, Jisung goes to work on the security systems, fingers flying across the keys.

"This is the central security hub," he explains, nodding his head at the screen. "I hacked into a back door and essentially tricked the system into giving me admin privileges."

"Whoa…"

As you crowd around him, Jisung programs the security camera to play a four hour loop of footage taken just before you all had arrived.

"All the security monitors are going to be playing these recordings rather than live footage," he smirks. "This is too easy."

He digs deep into the system, pulling out blueprints of the complex, security guard rotations, door pass codes – everything you need to get in and out as quickly and quietly as possible without getting caught.

"So what do I do?" Felix wonders, popping a strawberry Pocky stick into his mouth.

"You're the getaway driver," Minho says blankly. "What do you think you're supposed to do?"

Felix hesitates. "Drive away?"

Sighing, Minho questions further. "Do you remember when you're supposed to drive away?"

"At the signal," the blonde states confidently.

Chris groans out loud.

"Don't you groan at me!"

"No, Felix," Minho says slowly, looking anxious for the first time since… well, since ever. "You're supposed to start the engine at the signal. You drive away as soon as we get into the van."

"Oh, right." The boy flushes bright red, and if you weren't so incredibly nervous, you probably would smile.

"Okay, we're set." Jisung swivels toward you, handing earpieces to you, Minho, and Chris. “You guys know what to do, right?”

“Listen to you at all times and never second-guess your judgment–”

“I still feel anxious about that part,” Chris grumbles.

“And wait for you and Lee Know to break into the control room…”

“I’ll have to go in first,” Lee Know said somberly. “I’m more comfortable with this sort of thing.”

You nodded, leaning on the table with both your hands. “What will you do?”

That iconic smirk grows across his face as he replies, “I have to steal uniforms for you guys.”

“As disguises?” Felix demands excitedly. “I love disguises!”

The older man gives the blonde a skeptical once-over. “How old are you again?”

Felix bristles. “Why does that matter?”

With a disinterested hum, Minho glaces away again to continue explaining his plan. “I’ll leave the uniforms by the cargo boxes outside the processing building of the complex. This is where Felix comes in.”

At the sound of his name, the young man wiggles with eagerness. “This is gonna be so cool.”

You, Chris, and Jisung are hiding in the same large, wooden boxes that the confiscators always pack Christmas memorabilia in for processing. There are three boxes; two empty ones for you, Ji, and Chris to squat in, and another filled with ornaments and decorations in case a security guard demands to inspect the cargo. Originally, the plan was for Ji and Chris to share a box, but upon hearing that idea, the former went into what could be loosely described as a tantrum.

“He might crush my hardware!” he protested indignantly. “Giant, clumsy brute that he is.”

“I take offense to that.”

The solution was to stick Jisung and his precious electronics in one box while you and Chris squished into the second. You aren’t exactly complaining, though. His breath is sweet-smelling, and he looks very, very kissable this close. Although the both of you are too nervous to speak as Felix drives around to the delivery gate, your eyes speak volumes, boring into each other’s. If we get out of this alive, he seems to say, I am never going to let you go.

It’s a sentiment you can very much live with.

“Driving up to the gate now.” Felix’s deep voice crackles to life through your earpiece, and you nod despite the fact that he can’t see you.

“It baffles me how he can have the face of a literal four-year-old and the voice of fucking Smaug,” Chris mutters, bracing his hand against the side of the wooden wall as the van jolts over a particularly large divot in the snow-smothered road.

“I heard that.” Funny how Felix sounds more gleeful than offended.

“By the time our getaway driver gets to the delivery gate, I’ll be at the checkpoint station in uniform. For appearances sake, I’ll have to pretend to inspect the cargo in his hold before waving you all through. Once you’re in, wait until I radio that the coast is clear.” With that Minho took a long, luxurious sip of his hot chocolate. He hummed with satisfaction upon swallowing, right before diving back into the mug. “This has got to be the best cocoa I’ve ever had.”

You blinked. “Minho, the plan.”

“Patience, little grasshopper, I’m getting to it.”

“Did you just call me a bug?” You bristled, but Minho just rolled his eyes.

“Technically, it’s an insect. And I wasn’t actually calling you a bug, it’s a saying.”

“Okay, okay,” Chris interrupted. “Just get on with the plan already.”

“Right.” The thief cleared his throat several times, and your impatience got the best of you. Your leg started bouncing with aggravation as he took his sweet time. “Where was I again?”

“The coast is clear,” you prodded impatiently.

“Oh, right.” Minho’s eyes narrowed as a sly grin bloomed across his face, making him look for all the world like a fox about to break into a chicken coop. “Once the coast is clear, you guys can jump out of the back of the van and behind the cargo boxes by the side of the building. You’ll find the uniforms there.”

“Where do we change?” you demand. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Minho blinked. “Behind the boxes, stupid.”

“You expect me to strip in front of two men?"

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Chris protested indignantly. At that, the two youngest started complaining, making gagging noises as they whined loudly about how that was way too much information and incredibly gross and could you please get a room.

Minho simply rolled his eyes, looking like a total diva as he sipped snootily at the cocoa. “Just have them look away. And do it fast, guys. It’ll be cold.”

Cold, your foot. It’s utterly freezing. As you slip on the uniform, it’s all you can do to stop your teeth from chattering so loudly that they reveal your position to any nearby guards. And what a position you’re in. Half-naked. You would snort with laughter if you weren’t so incredibly frozen.

“Are you snails dressed yet?” hisses Minho’s voice over your earpieces.

“Yes, calm down,” you mumble, shivering as you yank on the combat boots.

“Great. We’ll let you know when we’re in the attic.”

“Phase two starts with me and Jisung,” Minho continued, now swishing his mug as though he were Dumbledore or something. “And it’s the most dangerous part.”

Jisung shrank the tiniest amount, looking both intrigued and intimidated.

You snorted as you realized that Felix was pouting, obviously put off by the fact that he hadn’t been assigned something extremely dangerous.

“Once we’re all in uniform, he and I will walk inside the complex to the restroom on the east wall. There’s a large grate there where we can access the air ducts and climb to the attic on the third floor.”

“Why the attic?” Jisung whined. "It's dusty up there, and I have a sensitive nose!"

"Because it's the only place where you can speak freely to the others on the headset without getting caught," snapped Minho.

He turned towards you again, missing out on the petulant grimace Jisung aimed at his back. “Once we’re up in the attic, we’ll be able to guide you through the complex. Jisung will have already hacked into the live feeds to make sure they’re playing a recording from earlier, so the security guards in the camera room won’t even know we’re there. Only Ji will be able to access the live footage.” “So, just to clarify,” Chris interrupted anxiously, “Jisung will be able to see people coming, right? And warn us?”

Minho rolled his eyes again – you were starting to wonder if it was his personal hobby. “You’ll be wearing uniforms, so you should be fine. But yes, Jisung will warn you.”

Jisung’s voice crackles to life in your ear as you strode through the hallway, trying desperately to look like you belonged in this high-security complex. “There’s a higher-up coming around the corner up ahead in ten seconds,” he warns over the earpiece. “She’s wearing the badge of Lieutenant, so get out of there.”

You have all already established that being seen by officers is too risky. Their wider range of permissions on-site means that if they suspect anything is amiss, they can arrest you and dig up your citizen profiles. You don’t even want to think about what would happen to you and your family if the government caught you breaking into a high-security complex.

I could be hanged for terrorism. Before you can start to freak out too much, you push the thought down as far as it can go.

“There are bathrooms on your right,” hisses Jisung.

A split second before the officer comes around the corner into view, Chris veers into the men’s bathroom. You’re just about to slip inside the women’s room when the lieutenant appears around the corner, her sharp eyes meeting yours. Upon hearing Jisung’s low gasp in your ear, you almost lose your cool. Somehow, though, you manage to keep your head on straight, and you turn crisply towards the opposite wall, eyes straight ahead, saluting as the officer passes.

She nods. “As you were.”

Heart pounding, you step into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind you.

“That was terrifying,” says Ji shakily.

“You’re telling me.” With slow breaths, you calm your wildly galloping heart.

"Okay, Chris is waiting for you in the hall." His voice still sounds a bit trembly, but at least it’s a little less so.

You take a deep breath, straighten your uniform jacket, and join your boyfriend outside.

"Jisung will guide you to the room where the ornaments and decorations are taken to be processed. Then, with a sack I'll leave behind the door, you can steal whatever you want and shove it into the air duct on the south wall of the room. I'll be waiting in the vent to take the bag."

"Do you have to use the word 'steal'?" protested Chris. "It makes me feel like such a bad person."

With an unsympathetic shrug, the thief replied, "I mean, you're the one wanting to break into a government facility."

"It wasn't my idea!"

"One, six, five, nine, zero, two," Jisung recites in your ear, as Chris carefully types the code into the door's electronic lock.

With a loud, drawn-out click, the heavy metal door unbolts, and he turns the handle to swing it wide open.

“We’re in.” You just have time to whisper it before you’re knocked speechless by the sight before you.

The room is filled with Christmas. It is Christmas. Crates upon crates of beautiful glass ornaments, boxes of red and green stockings, bags full of bubble-wrapped Santa figures, rows of painted metal reindeer and snowmen to put in your yard. Everything seems to sparkle or glitter or shimmer or shine, vibrant reds, lovely greens, pure whites, and beautiful golds coating nearly every surface.

As you stare, awestruck at the incredible visage, you vaguely register a warmth spreading from your head to your toes, stemming from the giant smile on your face.

“Whoa,” Chris breathes.

“There’s no time to marvel,” Jisung says quickly. “Minho’s already on his way through the air vents. Hurry up and fill the bag.”

It takes everything in you not to whoop with excitement as you grab the giant sack behind the closed door, take Chris’s hand, and sprint for the nearest crate.

His jaw is slack as his hands hesitantly hover over the shining ornaments. "What do we take?"

When he looks at you, his face visibly softens at the stars in your beaming eyes. "All of it."

Giggling quietly, you grab everything in sight, from ribbons to tinsel to boughs of holly to Christmas tree ornaments. You scamper from box to box, practically vibrating with excitement while Chris helps you collect the goodies. Although you’re too busy cooing over stuffed animals that look like reindeer to notice, he’s enjoying himself. More than he ever expected he would. He can't help the way his heart flutters upon seeing the absolute purity in your eyes. The gleaming smile on your face could make him melt right there. And, oh, when you look up at him, eyes shining like he's the most beautiful ornament of all, he can't help but lean forward. As his eyes flutter shut and his lips reach for yours, his heart begins to race. Somehow, even after all this time, even the simple act of kissing you feels–

"Chris, now is not the time!" Jisung's voice crackles to life in Chris's earpiece, startling him out of the moment.

Confused, you blink. All you were doing was reaching for a Frosty the Snowman statuette when Chris suddenly closed his eyes.

"Jisung," you say sternly, "you can't expect Chris to be able to hold back a sneeze just because you think it's not the right time."

For some reason, your boyfriend flushes as red as the Christmas decorations surrounding you, turning away to shove a few last items into the sack.

"Right." Jisung's voice is sarcastic. "Because that's what he was gonna do. Sneeze."

"I'm here," interrupts Minho's voice. You can hear the tiniest echo of it from behind the grate on the air duct on the opposite wall. "Aren't you guys done yet?"

"Just one more thing," you plead.

"Dude!"

But you're already running for a crate on the other side of the giant room, to something that caught your eye the moment you walked in.

"Babe, wait!" Chris runs after you, panting as he screeches to a stop in front of the giant box.

All you can do is gape. You thought it was beautiful from across the room, but up close–

It’s a tiny pine tree, about the size of your head, and made entirely of emeralds. The detail is exquisite, with each miniscule pine needle being a thin, sparkling prism of green. Welded to the top of the metal trunk is a golden star trimmed in red garnets, and it practically glows with a light all its own. The little ornaments hanging from the little branches are actually welded into place, but the metalwork looks almost too delicate for welding to have been possible. You smile, intrigued, as you lean forward to inspect the tiny ornaments themselves. They’re itty-bitty golden picture frames, also trimmed in bright garnet gems. You blink.

“Guys, hurry up,” hisses Jisung. “I want to get the hell out of–”

“That’s me,” you say blankly. “Why am I in these frames?”

A beat of silence follows your sudden statement, and Chris leans forward to stare at the little pictures hanging from the emerald branches. “Are these your baby pictures?”

“Yes,” you say. Too many emotions for you to identify whirl through you. You think there’s a little bit of confusion and shock. Or maybe that’s fear.

Why do they still have your baby pictures? Shouldn’t they have already been burned all those years ago?

Each of the frames on the tree is occupied by a different shot: there's one of you in elf pajamas, one with your family, one with you sitting on the lap of a man who looked oddly like Santa.

"Put it in the bag," you say quietly.

Chris asks no questions, instead carefully placing the treasure into the sack.

"I'd like to know why they have stuff from years ago," he murmurs, slinging the bag carefully over his shoulder.

He says your name questioningly when you don't respond, but you're too engrossed by the label on the crate.

"Look," you whisper. "It says 'extermination quota'."

"What?"

Your mind is going a hundred miles per hour, and you don't think to answer Chris's question. Like a caged tiger, you stalk along the crates pushed up against the wall.

"They all say the same thing," you mumble. "What on earth is the 'extermination quota'?"

"Babe, look," Chris calls, pointing at the large wooden boxes not lined up on the wall, instead scattered around the room in groups. "These labels are different."

Your brows furrow as you walk towards the crates at which he's pointing. "Ship to China," you read out loud. "What–?"

Chris is already looking at the other boxes in this group, reading the labels out loud. "Ship to Japan, Ship to North Korea, Ship to Mongolia," he says.

Jisung and Minho have fallen into a stunned silence, and you assume they simply watch as you jog over to the next group of crates.

"Ship to the Philippines," you read. "And Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Indonesia…"

"This group lists all the Eastern European countries," calls your boyfriend, crouching down to study the labels of a third group.

"And this one is all the Western ones," you call back, moving to yet another cluster of crates.

"What does it mean?" whispers Ji.

Chris seems just as perplexed as the younger, but the gears in your head are slowly turning, starting to click the pieces into place.

"They're selling them," you say quietly.

The responding quiet is heavy with something ominous.

"Think about it. Those boxes by the wall are filled with unharmed artifacts from years ago. And they say 'extermination quota'."

There's a slight hesitation.

"I don't get it," admits Jisung, voice sounding rather abashed.

But Minho pushes out a long, low exhalation of disbelief. "It's a queue."

You nod, already beginning to tremble with anger.

"A queue for the dump?" Chris asks slowly.

You nod.

Millions of your countrymen had their heirlooms taken from them. Christmas ornaments and statues passed down through their family lines. But when the government took them away to be burned, they didn't destroy them all at once. They queued them up to be burned periodically over a matter of years according to a minimum quota. For the sake of appearances. Because the rest of the things they stole are being sold to other countries for a profit, countries that are free to celebrate Christmas. What a hypocrite is President Venier Garland, the man who banned Christmas in your country. All because he disagreed with what it represented, what it promoted.

Enraged tears fill your eyes. "This is too far."

"What do we do?" Chris asks, rising from his crouched position. The look in his eyes is steely, and it spurs you on in the decision you were reluctant to make.

"We tell everyone." Your chin lifts with a rigid defiance, the glint in your eyes striking a sense of pure awe and admiration in your boyfriend's chest. "They deserve to know."

"Already on it," mutters Jisung. Over the earpiece, you can hear his fingers clacking away at the keys of his computer. "I'm hacking into their reports now."

"Download all the files you can find," you tell him. You turn to Chris. "Let's go."

"Finally," Minho sighs. "I've already loosened the bolts on the grate, so just lift it off and shove the sack inside."

While Chris passes the heavy bag inside the vent to Minho, who's crouched impatiently on the metal duct, you glance over your shoulder. So much beauty going to waste. Your throat constricts as you feel angered tears collecting on your lower lash line.

"You got it?" Chris asks Minho.

The latter hefts the bag slightly, testing its weight. "Yeah, I got it. Put the grate back on now, and I'll meet you guys outside."

Chris bends, reaching for the grate and giving you a very nice view of his butt.

You pretend not to notice the slightly disgusted glare Minho is sending in your direction.

"Hey!"

The protest comes from behind you, and you feel all the blood drain from your face as you whirl. As you stare at the two shocked security guards, you hear Chris curse behind you.

"What are you doing?" demands the taller of the two.

The shorter, more muscular one glares from you to Chris, as he spits, "They're stealing."

Before you can cry out, he sprints for a clear glass box on the wall, flipping open the lid to expose a glowing red button. It's the alarm.

"Changbin!" Minho barks the name, leaping down from the air vent with the agility of a panther.

The small, brawny guard freezes at his voice, fingers a centimeter from the button.

The taller guard, his slender, cat-like eyes widening in shock, takes a hesitant step forward.

"Minho? What are you doing here?"

The thief rises from the crouch into which he'd landed, smirking. "You know me. Always got to keep the govvie on its toes."

"First of all," snarls Changbin, turning to stare at all of you – although his fingers never leave the button –"'govvie' is not a thing."

Minho shrugs.

"And second of all, do you have any idea how much trouble you'll be in once I hit this alarm?"

"Come on, babe," Chris whispers nervously. With a subtle kick of his head, he gestures to the grate. "I'll boost you out."

"I'm not leaving without you," you hiss from the corner of your mouth.

"None of you are leaving," Changbin barks. He turns to face the button again, fingers tensing as they begin to press.

"Changbin!" Minho overtakes the muscular guard with a few long strides, his hand wrapping around the man's wrist. "Don't."

"I have to," he growls. "If anyone finds out we allowed you to escape, Hyunjin and I will be blacklisted. Our families will be in danger."

The tall, slender guard -- Hyunjin, you assume -- fidgets anxiously. "He's right, Minho." His face looks conflicted and more than a little scared as his gaze flickers towards the cameras on the ceiling.

"They're not rolling," you interject gently.

The men's reactions are vastly different.

Hyunjin visibly relaxed. "Alright."

Changbin glares at you. "They're always rolling."

And then he slams the button.

Minho cusses out loud as red lights begin to flash overhead, sirens breaking into a wail.

"You idiot!" he yells at Changbin. "Jisung hacked into the cameras so they'd play a recording instead of live footage!"

"Jisung's here, too?" Changbin and Hyunjin demand simultaneously.

"Yes!"

The short, buff security guard starts wringing his hands, the tough guy facade abruptly vanishing.

"Why didn't you tell me he'd changed the cameras?!"

"WE WERE TRYING TO, BUT YOU HIT THE ALARM."

"Guys!" shouts Chris. "We need to get out of here!"

"He's right!" Jisung says anxiously. "There's a squadron of officers headed in your direction!"

"How soon until they get here?" you shout over the sirens.

"Sixty seconds!"

Chris and Minho curse again, both sprinting for the entrance to the air vent. Biceps flexing, they heft themselves up into the duct.

"Come on, babe," yells Chris. While Minho grabs him by the ankles, your boyfriend dangles over the edge, his large hands reaching for you.

With a huge jump, you grab his forearms, and he grunts, squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his teeth, desperately struggling to pull you up. Muscles bulge under skin, veins pop into view, but he's not strong enough to quickly pull you into the duct.

Suddenly, warm hands wrap around your waist, tightening as Changbin helps Chris heave you up into the metal duct.

"Thanks, mate," Chris nods at the man below.

"Get out of here," Hyunjin urges, shooing you away.

Hastily, Changbin passes up the grate, which Chris hooks into place just as the officers burst into the room.

"What's going on?" demands the Lieutenant you saw in front of the bathroom earlier.

Before you, Chris, and Minho crawl around the corner of the tunnel and out of earshot, you hear Changbin's voice.

"We're not sure. We just arrived a few seconds before you did."

Your heart is pounding as you scamper after Minho, who carries the huge, quietly jingling sack on his back as he shuffles through the maze.

"Jisung, have you made it out?" Minho hisses.

The boy's voice crackles to life in your ear. "Yeah, I'm in the van with Felix already."

"Hi, guys!" chirps Felix through his earpiece.

Minho pauses at a fork, and at first, you wildly think he's lost. But then he sighs with irritation, and you realize his moment of hesitation is simply the result of hearing the cheerful blonde.

"Felix, do you remember what we said?"

There's a moment of sullen silence before he sulkily replies, "No talking on the headset while you guys are on a mission."

"And do you remember why?"

You can practically see Felix's pout. "Because I'm too distracting."

"Exactly."

Jisung snickers quietly, and you hear a loud thump through your earpiece.

"Ow!" Ji whines. "What did I do?"

"Shut up, Han."

Minho sighs again, and you're willing to bet a million dollars that he's rolling his eyes. "Can you guys please just shut up and behave until we get back?"

"Rude," mutters Felix.

You can hear the sirens echoing below as you crawl through the metal space, making lefts and rights and lefts and rights in the maze. It's a miracle that Minho managed to memorize the routes. Or maybe this isn't his first time breaking into the complex…

It's not until your knees are numb that Minho finally leads you out of the ducts, helping you jump down into an empty stairwell.

"Almost out," he whispers, somehow still audible over those oppressive sirens.

Up the stairs, there's a large metal door, a glowing green EXIT sign hanging over it. At just the prospect of making it out of this, your heart starts pounding wildly.

You've almost made it.

When Minho throws open the door with one hand, the freezing winter air slaps you in the face. But it's a welcome feeling, a feeling that's synonymous with freedom. It takes everything in you not to shout giddily as you run out onto the roof. White snow whirls around you, enveloping you like a blanket, and it's difficult even to see Chris and Minho beside you.

"What now?" you shout.

"We jump!"

You splutter. "What?!"

"I don't remember this being part of the plan!" Chris protests over the howling wind.

"That's because I didn't tell you. For obvious reasons!"

"If by 'obvious reasons', you mean there was no way we'd okay with jumping off a fucking building, then yes!"

"Just trust me," yells Minho, squinting through the snow. And then, bag held securely between his arms, he leaps off three stories.

A loud scream tears out of your throat as you watch him get swallowed up by the blizzard, falling, falling, falling. You keep squinting even after he's out of sight, lost in the suffocating white snow.

"He's dead, isn't he," Chris says quietly, his voice an emotionless monotone. And that's how you know he's on the edge of a mental breakdown.

"He must be." Distraught, you wipe your streaming eyes.

"Don't cry," your boyfriend orders, pulling you into his arms. "It'll make you colder."

"What are we going to do? The guards will be up here any minute, Chris. We're dead."

His face is stricken, eyes red with emotion, nose red with cold. But as his mouth opens to comfort you, a ghostly wail wafts up from below.

"Fucking jump, you pussies!"

"What the–"

You sprint to the edge of the building so recklessly that you would fall over the edge if not for Chris grabbing your arm.

"Minho's ghost?" you call down, "Please don't hurt us, we really did try to warn him–"

"I'm not dead, you idiots! Now jump!"

Bemused, you and Chris lock eyes. As muffled shouts echo from the stairwell, pounding footsteps growing imminently closer, you grab his hand.

"On three?" you whisper.

"I love you," he answers, squeezing your fingers.

The tears blur your eyes as you count. "One... two..."

"Three!" yells Chris, and you both leap over the edge of the roof.

For a second, it feels like you're hovering, arms and legs wheeling as you desperately try to swim through the freezing air.

And then you're falling so fast, the wind screams in your ears, snowflakes stinging your face like thousands of needles. You're both screaming as you tumble down, down, down, only Chris's death grip on your hand keeping you from losing your mind. It lasts for only a few seconds, but they're a wild, terrifying, thrilling, exhilarating few seconds that make you feel simultaneously stone dead and heart-pumpingly alive.

And then you're crashing down into a giant crate filled with stuffed reindeer and snowmen and Santas, breathing heavily.

"Took you long enough," snips Minho.

Batting the stuffed toys out of your face, you look up. He's balanced on the edge of the box, one hand on his hip while the other holds the neck of the sack hanging over his shoulder.

"You're alive!" you yelp, swimming through the toys towards the thief.

He only raises an eyebrow, sidestepping the relieved hugs you and Chris aim at him.

"Were you hoping for otherwise?" He tosses you a teasing smirk as he hops off the box onto the roof of a diesel truck. His steps are light, his movements fluid when he slides down the windshield onto the hood and then off onto the snow-smothered concrete.

"He makes it look so easy," grumbles Chris.

"Come on, slowpokes," Minho shouts. "Felix is just around the cor-"

Sure enough, the telltale shriek of tires speeding over asphalt cuts through the howling blizzard, and the black van looms out of the snow.

"Come on, Chris!" Your cry is gleeful, filled with victory as you jump onto the diesel, shooting down the windshield and onto the ground with your boyfriend on your heels.

With a flurry of snow spraying behind it, the van squeals to a stop, Felix poking his blonde head out of the window to yell, "Get in!"

Jisung throws open the side door, and the three of you lunge into the vehicle.

"Go, go, go!" Minho's voice is louder than the slamming of the door, more obnoxious than the shrill grinding of the tires over the snow as Felix slams pedal to the metal.

The van careens through the complex alleys, screeching around all the corners as Felix outraces the red sirens wailing to life behind you.

"Come on, Lixie," you whisper, clenching your fists and leaning forward. If he can make it out before the gates go into lockdown, you'll be free.

The slender blonde yanks the wheel harshly to the right, sending you all veering around a last corner. The huge gates appear out of the white storm. They're already beginning to close.

"Faster!"

The van explodes with shouts and yells as you all urge Felix onward, and he grits his teeth, pushing himself against the seat as his foot presses the pedal to its very limit.

"We're gonna make it!" Minho shouts.

"We're not going to make it!" shrieks Jisung, throwing his hands over his eyes.

The guards in the checkpoint beside the gates sprint out into the snow as they catch sight of you speeding their way, waving their hands and shouting angrily.

"Hold on to your asses!" Felix shouts.

And then he's roaring past the officers, screaming through the gates, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the metal.

He pants as you drive out into the night, a single bead of sweat rolling down his face.

The inside of the vehicle is silent for a second as the truth slowly begins to sink in. You've made it out.

"We did it!" exclaims Chris, grabbing the hair on both sides of his head. "I can't believe it!"

You let out a shriek of pure excitement, flinging your hands over your head. "We did it!"

Cheers are all you can hear as you meet Chris's eyes. They're wide and sparkling, filled with a bright vividness you've never seen there before.

"Have I told you that I'm in love with you?" he breathes, blinking those starry eyes like he holds whole galaxies within them.

Grinning, you squeeze his hand. "You have now."

Felix whoops as he barrels through the snow, the taste of sweet victory fresh on all your tongues.

41 notes · View notes

youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

A Heartbeat Away | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.7k

✦ based off the song I Should’ve Kissed You by One Direction

✦ summary — Damian is haunted by the fact that he only said good night when he should have kissed you.

✦ warnings — light angst, mentions of pregnancy (a minor character is pregnant), mentions of food and beverages, fluff.

✦ author's note i — randomly remembered my obsession with this song and couldn’t get it out of my head.

✦ author's note ii — the parts in italics are flashbacks.

════════════════════════

Ever since he started living with Jason, Damian found himself straying away from the things that held him back.

His life would never be normal, but in hindsight, he could admit things weren’t as bad.

The fallout with his father came crashing down in the worst moment possible — Dick was dead and his relationship with Tim wasn’t the best.

As little as he knew Jason, he was sure he could trust him so he asked for his help instead of somebody else’s.

And Jason didn’t say no. Whether he had the heart to do it or not was irrelevant because he still took Damian in and helped him find a job.

He hated said job.

‘It’s a job,’ you had told him, ‘you’re not supposed to like it.’

You.

Damian rarely stopped thinking about you. Calling it infatuation felt like an understatement, and yet he couldn’t find a better word to describe the whirlwind of emotions you gave him.

He still remembered the day he met you for the first time.

Jason paced in the living room, perking up every time he heard a noise outside the apartment.

You’re driving me insane,” Damian said from the small dining table.

”Roy’s late.”

”Why are you surprised?”

Jason glared at him.

Both of them heard somebody stand on the other side of the door. Their steps didn’t sound like Roy’s.

Pulling the door open, Jason was ready to snap at whoever had knocked.

“You ordered something and gave my apartment number instead of yours. Again.”

Damian didn’t recognize the voice so he slanted his body to the side to see who it was. He couldn’t stop staring.

”I’ll make it up to you.”

”Jay,” you sighed. “I’ve told you before, you just need to tell me beforehand if you don’t want things to arrive to your apartment. My roommate could have opened it.”

Damian chuckled, a single elbow resting on the table.

Jason craned his neck. “You think this is funny?”

”I think you’re a moron.”

”Shut up and come meet our neighbor.”

Damian didn’t have to be told twice. He stood up with an eagerness he hadn’t felt since Jason texted him to let him know he had found the materials so he could build a suit and go back to patrol.

”This is my brother Damian.” Jason turned around to place the package under the table next to the door.

He knew you’d either seen him before or heard about him the moment his eyes landed on you. People always had a visceral reaction when they met him, some found him attractive, others attempted to ask for favors, and some recoiled in fear.

But you didn’t. You held his gaze and stood in the same spot you had been since you knocked on the door.

And whether it had been in a newspaper or a gossip forum, he was glad you knew something about him. There was something about the way you stared at him that screamed for him to trust you. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

“Nice to meet you,” you politely said, smiling at him.

Stunned by the fact that you hadn’t mocked him, and now assuming it wasn’t wishful thinking after all, he tilted his head. Most people did mock now that he wasn’t under his father’s wing.

Still, he said, “Likewise.”

Your smile became warmer. “I live three doors down the hallway in case you need anything.”

He felt a pang in his chest at the gesture. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Weird sensations in his chest were normal when he was around you. Befriending you was easier than he’d ever admit and talking to you became the highlight of his day.

The pangs in his chest turned into a fluttering sensation in a heartbeat. You’d make him feel breathless when you did the smallest things — when you smiled at him, when you complained about other neighbors with him, when you asked about his day.

He felt special. For once in his life for being the closest he had ever been to resemble a normal person.

And he also remembered, quite painfully, that night he let you walk away without mustering the courage to tell you —or show you— the way you made him feel.

The deserted hallway was yet another proof of how easy it was to lose track of time around you.

Damian hadn’t expected to get back home past midnight or to skip patrol, but 1:00 AM turned into 2:00 and he couldn’t part from you no matter how many times he tried to remind himself to do it.

He hadn’t even expected to enjoy the state fair as an adult, yet he couldn’t remember a time he had more fun than that evening.

You gazed up at him, waiting for him to either do or say something. Anything other than stare at you in the middle of the hallway.

You had already thanked him for making you company, there was no way you’d say anything. And he froze.

“Good night,” he sputtered.

Your brow twitched. “Night.”

He watched you unlock your door and get inside your apartment with a heavy heart.

You moved out a couple months ago and he hadn’t seen you since then. The texts the two of you exchanged were sporadic and they bordered in formal.

He should have kissed you, he was aware of that. And to make matters worse, Jason chewed him out when he found out.

He still looked for you every morning he left the apartment as though you’d remember you had forgotten something. That you had forgotten him.

Jon said it was for the best, that somebody as sweet as you didn’t deserve to carry with his baggage.

Damian knew his best friend to be right, but how could he let go of you that easily when you made him see he was more than his mistakes and regrets?

He didn’t need anybody to carry him, he could drag himself anywhere if needed.

He simply hated the hole in the pit of his stomach every time he entertained the possibility of having to see you one day with somebody else because he wasn’t brave enough to say what he needed to let out.

The idea of being out of time was killing him slowly, so naturally, he’d sought a quick death.

════════════════════════

You gasped upon opening the door. You weren’t expecting anybody to be outside — much less Damian Wayne.

“Oh!”

“Hi,” he softly greeted.

You blinked rapidly. “Did you need anything?”

“I wanted to... Are you on your way out?”

“I’m just dropping this off for my mom.” You momentarily lifted the bags you were carrying in one hand. “She lives nearby.”

He spared a look to the reusable bags in your grasp. “Is she sick?”

“Pregnant,” you explained, playing with your keys. “It’s high risk due to her age so we take as much care of her as we can.”

Damian walked backward, allowing you to come out of the apartment and lock the door.

As you pushed the door to make sure it was locked, he asked, “Would you care for some company?”

Turning around, you gave him a small smile. “That would be lovely.”

He reached over. “Let me help.”

“They’re not heavy.”

“I insist.”

”Okay.” You handed him the bags and took the initiative to lead the way.

He reached your side immediately.

Not knowing what else to do, aware you’d let something slip if you didn’t find something, you made small talk. “How’s Jason?”

“As annoying as always.”

You still remembered when he meant those words, when he complained about Jason and how often they butted heads. His tone was different now, lighter, almost playful.

“Good to know some things never change.”

You walked the streets with an ease you hadn’t been able to in years. Growing up in that neighborhood meant which streets to avoid, and sadly, most of them were unsafe.

There were many things you could have asked or said, perhaps apologize for being cold while texting.

You were in your right to be cold and you could have just not answered, but you wanted to keep contact even though you were hurt.

Damian was great company. It was a shame you misread the entire situation and couldn’t go back to chat with him like before.

It took you a few attempts to get them to talk comfortably, but once he was able to, he didn’t look back. He even gossiped with you.

Stopping in front of the house, you looked around to make sure your mom had the windows open. Once sure, you walked up the front steps.

You withdrew a single key from your back pocket and extended your other hand so Damian would give you the bags.

The floors were recently mopped which meant your aunt had visited that day.

“It’s me,” you yelled so your mom wouldn’t get up. It was her time to be watching TV in the living room.

Carrying the bags towards the kitchen, you caught the jingle from a commercial.

You filled a glass with water and added a couple of ice cubes.

Your mom was comfortably sat on a recliner, feet up and remote control on her thigh. “Hurry back before it gets dark.”

“Don’t worry, a friend of mine walked me here.” You handed her the glass. “Do you need anything else?”

She ignored your question as she took the glass. “Who is it?”

“You don’t know him.”

“Him?” She lifted an eyebrow.

You hadn’t mentioned a guy to her in almost two years now, her surprise was understandable. “Not now.”

“Oh, so it is like that?”

Maybe it was and maybe that was the issue. She wouldn’t blame you if she knew him like you did, if she heard him laugh or saw him change his demeanor to accommodate to somebody else’s sensibilities.

You didn’t think you’d witness anything remotely close to that when you met him for the first time, but you learned really quickly that Damian was full of surprises.

“I’ll call in the morning in case you need something. I’m working ’til 3:00 PM tomorrow.”

“It’s okay.” She took a sip of water. “Did you bring anything sweet?”

“Homemade muffins and a few chocolate bars. Do you want one now?”

She shook her head. “I’ll wait after dinner.”

You kissed her cheek. “Call me, please.”

“Go, go.” She ushered you to go with a gesture of her hand. “Don’t make your friend wait.”

It was your time to ignore her comment.

Damian was sat on the front steps when you came out, looking up at the darkening sky.

“Is everything alright?” you asked in a whisper as to not scare him.

“No.” He shook his head and stood up. “I mean, yes. How’s your mother?”

“She’s good. Having fun watching reality TV.”

Damian squinted. “Is reality TV really that entertaining?”

“It’s mindless stuff, but it’s fun sometimes. You get to judge other people’s lives without feeling remorse because it’s most likely fake.”

The walk back was way shorter and you didn’t want to part. It was time to swallow your pride and your feelings for him.

He didn’t part ways with you at the building entrance. He walked beside you until you reached the elevator — Damian extended his arm to keep the doors open and allowed you to get in first. He followed suit.

You turned the lights on with Damian on your tail. He did wait for you to invite him in, but you were sure both of you knew there was no way you wouldn’t.

“I made muffins. Do you want one?”

Damian nodded.

You guided him to the dining table where a trippy vase in pastel colors rested with flowers.

He looked around the apartment as he walked towards the table. As he sat down, he fixed his eyes on the vase.

“Green or black?”

“Mmh?”

“Your tea.”

You could swear you saw him smile to himself.

“Black.” He placed his cellphone on the table. “You still have that thing,” he said, referring to the trippy vase.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He huffed a laugh. “Jason said it was ugly.”

“Jason doesn’t have the best taste in the world,” you lightheartedly retorted.

The vase was precious to you, a gift from Damian who spooked you in the middle of a rainy night and made you knock your favorite vase.

You set a plate in front of him and placed the muffin there. “Your tea’s almost ready.”

“No roommate this time?”

“Nope. I miss Lou, but I don’t miss having a roommate that much.”

“I thought the move was temporary just so you could be close to your mother...”

“It is, but there’s still a long way to go. The baby should be here next month and she’ll need help around the house.” You disappeared for a moment as you looked for a mug.

Having found one, you dropped the teabag and poured the boiling water in.

“Sugar.” You put the sugar bowl down just in front of the mug. Feeling his eyes on the side of your face, you gazed at him. “It’s brown, don’t worry.”

He relaxed and uncovered the sugar bowl. “Is the father of your mother’s child around?”

“Yeah.” You sat down on the chair closest to his. “She remarried last year and her husband tries to help, but you know, work gets in the way.”

“Tell me if I can help with anything.”

“Don’t worry, you have enough things to juggle with already.”

“What’s one more? At least let me make you company or walk you home. These streets are dangerous.”

You softly nodded. From the day you met him you knew you would never be able to tell him no — and having his company after a long day sounded nice.

“So...”

“So,” you encouraged him to go on.

“Are you seeing anybody?”

“No. I thought I was a little while ago, but...” You hoped he’d understand what you were getting at. “I guess something got lost in translation.”

“Did it? Or was he too much of a coward to show the way he felt?”

“Don’t.” You hated hearing him talk like that about himself.

“You don’t know how much I regret not kissing you that night. I—“ He sighed, twisting his mouth as he frowned. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“At least now I know you did think about doing it.”

“I did. Many times throughout the night.” He turned to the side to fully look at you. “I wanted to find the perfect moment and became overwhelmed. Sounds like a bad excuse, but I swear it’s the truth.”

“I believe you.”

Damian scooted closer and reached over to place his hand on your face. Softly, he caressed your cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

You leaned onto his touch, tilting your head. “Me too. Sorry for being such an ass.”

“It’s fine. I would have reacted similarly.”

“Similarly or worse?”

“Worse.”

You laughed, making him smile.

“May I?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Damian leaned in, placing his free hand on the back of your chair as his nose brushed yours.

His lips softly connected with yours, but the slow pace didn’t last. The two of you had wasted too much time, thrown away too many opportunities to be this close —or closer— and patience wasn’t a virtue Damian possessed.

The chair was now balancing itself in two legs, making you interrupt the kiss with a squeal.

Damian then made you stand up and wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips were immediately back on yours.

Your hands went up to rest on his biceps as he kissed you again. His arms tightened around you as he deepened the kiss and you melted.

You melted into the kiss, onto his warmth, due to the fact that he wanted this as much as you did.

Kissing him had become a mere fantasy for you, and there he was, not only making it a reality but exceeding your expectations.

Grabbing him by the neck, you broke the kiss in search of air. His breath was barely ragged and you remembered he told you he could hold it in for a long time.

You needed him to teach you just to be able to kiss him for longer.

“That was nice,” you said, still breathless.

“Yeah, really nice. We should do it more often.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“I’m telling you I want you to be mine.”

All in or nothing, of course. Jason had warned you that Damian didn’t take things lightly.

But you were okay with that.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne

190 notes · View notes

heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

Text

Will you accept me? [Loki Laufeyson x Reader]

Title: Will you accept me? Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Female!Reader Word count: 4.1k Published: 19 May 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: Firstly, this is my first ever Marvel fic, so go easy on me. Secondly, Infinity War and Endgame didn't happen in this house. I accept none of that. Summary: [x] In the past three years you’ve been trying refrain yourself from murdering the mischievous God, or so you have been telling yourself that. Your little game with Loki has been driving you crazy and if that wasn’t enough, you had to admit that a part of you enjoyed his company, regardless of how much you tried to hate him.

Marvel Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Tom Hiddleston and Characters Masterlist

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Loki Laufeyson was nothing, but a mischievous little boy stuck in a man’s body. His mere presence lit a raging fire within you, wanting to remove that smug grin across his face. God of mischief they said countless times in the past three years, but you could only see a man who found enjoyment in dancing on your nerves.

The first time you met him, it became very clear to you that there would be no boring moments around the man, so when he left earth, you finally felt like you could breathe again as if all your frustration disappeared into thin air. You had nothing against Thor, but you wished he would just stay in one of his many realms and leave Earth forever. Of course, it had nothing to do with him per se, as far as you were concerned Thor could have stayed on Earth and it wouldn’t have bothered you. But Loki was brought along like an unwanted package, making your life miserable as though you were his little toy. So, each time Thor returned to Earth, you didn’t feel like welcoming the God of Thunder because his lap dog was attached to his hips.

As to why Tony Stark decided to give him a place to sleep in the compound, you didn’t understand, after all Loki had tried to wipe out your planet. Tony was one of those who hated Loki the most, but somewhere along the line, as though he had gone mad, he decided to give him a second chance. So, for the past 3 years you have been trying to refrain yourself from carving Loki’s eyes out, from trying to stab him in his sleep when he stayed longer than he should have. It took you a great deal of effort not to murder him in his sleep.

It doesn’t mean you haven’t tried. Oh, you did indeed. Although it took you two years to get to a point where you couldn’t handle him anymore.

One night, feeling brave or reckless, whichever is a more reasonable statement, you snuck into his room, rage building up inside you, wanting to end his miserable life. Oh, but you were naive. As you swung your dagger, stabbing it straight into his chest, it went straight through his bedding set, the astral projection of his body disappearing.

“My sly little vixen, did you really think I would make myself so vulnerable?” He asked as you looked over your shoulder, his dark form seated in the corner of his room. A proud smirk was plastered across his face, his smug smile lit by the lights towering over the large building on the outside, carefully finding their way through the blinds. “But regardless of your intent on taking my life, I’m rather pleased with your bravery,” he chuckled as he stood up and walked over to you, earning a loud groan from you as you held your dagger to his chest, this time feeling his flesh under the edge of the blade.

“I could kill you now,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He leaned closer, his mouth right beside your ear, his cold lips brushing against your earlobe. “I dare you to,” he whispered into your ear, his hushed voice sending electricity through your spine, making your breath hitch. “I’m waiting, my little vixen,” he smirked. Although you couldn’t see it, you didn’t need to, you could read his tone, his body language, the little games he was playing. He found enjoyment in riling you up and you fell victim to him. He leaned back to be able to look in your eyes, his signature smile still plastered across his face. “You see, I understand that rage within you, feeling exhausted from our little games, but that’s only the surface. If you dig just a little deeper, you will find that even if it’s only a tiny part of your fragile mortal body, but it craves that attention, it enjoys our games. You can deny, oh you have been doing that for the past two years, but a part of you, a part that’s honest and dares to accept the truth knows that I’m right.”

A part of you wanted to argue and push the dagger further into his chest, wishing to watch his gaze become glassy, his soul moving onto Hel or Valhalla, though the latter seemed unlikely. But even against all his manipulation and tactical little games, always steps ahead of you, it was clear even to you that he was right. A part of you, even if it was hard to accept, found your shared games somewhat amusing. But you couldn’t say it out loud, you couldn’t agree with him. It would have broken the spell, the core of your entertainment. It was fun only because you never accepted to enjoy it. If you ever voiced the truth, it would have ended it all.

“You wish,” you hissed through gritted teeth as you dropped your arm beside your body. “I will have many other chances and when you expect it the least, that’s when I will be giving you a chance to go back to wherever the hell you came from,” your lips formed a thin line, your gaze holding determination. Those were the words you said aloud, but nothing like the ones you thought of. “Watch your back, Loki,” you whispered into his ear, before you headed towards the door, ready to scold yourself for the night in hopes of regaining your sanity.

“Good night, darling,” he chuckled silently as you stepped out of his room, shutting the door behind you with a loud thud. You couldn’t care less about who could have heard it, as fun as your little games were, they were also playing with your mind, leaving you flustered and frustrated. Loki affected you in many ways from your body to your mind, physically and mentally. You hated it, but at the same time, a part of you enjoyed it.

You tried to shake off the memory, but some of your encounters often appeared in your mind at the most unwanted times, as though a part of you missed him already. It’s only been months since he has left with Thor again, but since then life seemed somewhat boring. Although it was refreshing to focus solely on your duties as an Avenger and work hard for your people, but at times it felt as though there was a lack of something in you, a tiny part of emptiness.

Leaning back against the sofa, you continued to clean your guns. It was a small task that you could have entrusted F.R.I.D.A.Y. with, but this little chore brought you a sense of familiarity, a calming sensation in the midst of your storming thoughts.

“My dearest, why do you look so upset?” You heard his voice, but you didn’t look up, knowing it wasn’t reality. Another little game that your mind started to play with you, making you feel as though you were going insane. “Have I made you mad?” He chuckled playfully. You lifted your head, eyes growing wide as realisation hit you. He was indeed there. He was standing right beside Thor, wearing a smug grin, your presence seemingly bringing enjoyment to him. A part of you wanted to smile, mirror his expression, but instead you chose to play his game and rolled your eyes.

“Yes, you have. The day you decided to appear on this goddamn planet,” you groaned, concentrating back on your gun, cleaning it with a dirty cloth. Those words that left your lips weren’t the ones you wished to say. But you were afraid, terrified of being honest. You knew as soon as you admitted enjoying his company, he would stomp all over you as though you were a mere bug on the ground. A useless piece of life that he had no gain in caring for. So, you bit your tongue and played along.

“Now, now, my dear, that’s not a nice way to welcome a guest,” he smirked, raising a brow quizzically, finding your tone amusing.

“You are no guest to me,” you huffed as you placed your gun back in one piece. “You are nothing but an itch on my back, a fly circling around me, an annoying presence that I can’t seem to get rid of,” you lifted your head, meeting his emerald-green irises, their colour even brighter than you remembered. His gaze felt as though it was burning you up from the inside, your unrhythmic breathing drying your lips, your heart taking on a dangerous pace.

“Why, thank you,” his smile didn’t falter if anything it grew. “I must be doing something right if you can’t get rid of me,” he chuckled with a playful glint in his eyes. “Tell me, do you think of me often? Do you find yourself remembering all those memories we had the pleasure of spending time together?” He leaned closer, placing his hand on the small of your back, his touch making you shiver, his cold lips brushing against your ear, just like on that particular night you could never forget. “Do you think of me before you go to bed, maybe whilst you are in the shower?” He leaned back with a smug grin still painted across his face. “Or perhaps as soon as you wake up, your first thoughts are occupied by your memories of me? If I’m that hard to get rid of, I’m terribly proud of myself,” he chuckled as he let go of you and stood up. “Well, unfortunately I have to leave, but as always it’s been a pleasure meeting you,” he watched you with an intense gaze as he licked across his bottom lip, before he turned away and joined his brother.

As soon as he was out the door, you had sunk deep into the soft couch, planning a way to clear your head, because you weren’t sure how long you could play Loki’s games before you were declared completely insane. A small part of you just wanted to be honest and tell him how you really felt that indeed you enjoyed his company, that there were more to your feelings than simple entertainment, but a larger part of you knew if that ever happened, Loki would be long gone before a surprised gasp could even escape your lips.

To avert your thoughts, you decided to head to the training room and beat some sense into yourself. Trying to get rid of your frustration meant your body needed to tire out, so for hours you kept hitting and kicking the punching bags, imagining one particular person in its place. You hated him, you despised him, or so you tried to tell yourself, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Your feelings were indeed strong, but not of hatred, rather some sort of an attraction that you couldn’t really explain because you convinced yourself that hating him would be the logical decision, regardless of your feelings not matching your thoughts.

Time flew by quickly and before you knew it, the sun had gone down, and darkness ruled over the sky. You headed back to your room, taking a hot shower to clear your mind before you decided to grab a bottle of wine from Tony’s collection and drown yourself in your toxic thoughts. There was no escape, you might as well just give in, at least that’s how you thought.

You leaned against the kitchen counter as you opened the bottle of wine. Ignoring formalities, you didn’t take out a glass to pour yourself from the liquid, you placed it straight to your lips and chugged as much as you could, hoping it would silence your thoughts.

“Darling, you seem to be troubled,” you heard his voice, a sharp exhale leaving your lungs as you turned in his direction. He was leaning against the doorframe, wearing a small smile that you haven’t seen much of. It was usually smug or playful, but in that moment, the expression across his face just seemed soft.

“I wasn’t until you arrived,” you rolled your eyes, taking another long sip of your alcohol, trying to numb your mind.

“Shall I help you relax?” His face changed into his usually smug grin as though he was planning something.

“I think I can manage. As a mischievous God you would just cause more trouble than you could possibly help,” you huffed, knowing he always had a plan a, b, c, the whole alphabet and beyond.

“I’m not a mischievous God, I’m the God of Mischief,” he corrected you with a momentary surprise before he regained his composure.

“Same difference,” you shrugged nonchalantly, earning a silent chuckle from the man.

“If that makes you feel any better, call me whatever you want,” he stepped closer to you, stopping right in front of you as you took another sip of your drink. You watched his green eyes staring at you shamelessly, studying your face as though he was trying to read you.

“Can you stop staring?” You asked with a questioningly raised brow, but it only earned a silent chuckle from the man.

“No, I don’t wish to,” he replied as he stepped closer and with a swift movement, he turned you around. Your head shot back around over your shoulder as you met his playful gaze. “I mean no harm,” he meant to relax you, but you didn’t trust him, nor did you trust yourself in his presence. His cold fingers caused goosebumps on your neck, making you slightly shiver as he brushed your hair to one side and placed his palms on your shoulders, slowly massaging the tense muscles. You gasped at the feeling, the idea of a god massaging you felt unearthly.

“What are you doing?” You asked cautiously, although the feeling of his fingers on your skin made you feel weak in your knees, his breath fanning your skin making your heartbeat speed up. A part of you just wanted to lean into his touch and enjoy the moment.

“I’m helping you relax,” he whispered in your ear as you realised you were completely devoured by his presence. You couldn’t even recall when he leaned so close to you, you could only focus on his cold touch burning your skin.

“Why would you do that?” You questioned his intentions, a silent gasp leaving your lips as he found a tender point.

“Do I always have to have an ulterior motive?” He asked, but you could hear the proud smile in his tone. You turned back around, a deadpan look across your face, his touch leaving your skin.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” You asked, squinting suspiciously.

“Fine, I’m often motivated by certain ideas, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be genuinely helpful,” he tried to convince you, but you shook your head.

“Loki, what do you want?” you tried to just finish the conversation to drown yourself in your bottle of wine.

“How long has it been?” He asked, earning a confused frown from you.

“What are you talking about?” You tried to take a step back, but the kitchen counter stopped your movements.

“How long have you been pretending to hate me when in fact you know it couldn’t be farther from the truth?” His face fell serious, his previously playful expression long gone.

“I haven’t been pretending. It’s not my fault that you think it’s a game. I hate you and I think I made myself very clear from the first time we met,” you attempted to convince him, but his smile returned even wider than before.

“Still adamant I see,” he scoffed as he stepped closer, his arms caging you against the furniture behind you, his face getting closer to yours, only leaving just enough space for you to be able to breath. “So, you mean to tell me that my presence doesn’t affect you in any other way, it only brings you hatred?” He asked as his gaze wandered down to your lips, watching them intensely as though he was an animal wanting to catch his prey. Your breath hitched as his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest, a silent gasp leaving your lips as you shivered in his cold touch, still your skin burned feverishly.

“That— that’s right,” you stumbled through your words, your own confidence leaving you vulnerable.

“For once, be honest with me, dear and accept that you enjoy my company,” he whispered against your lips, your mind feeling dizzy, incapable of forming a simple, coherent sentence.

“I— That’s not— I hate you,” you finally composed yourself and pushed him away from yourself.

“Why can’t you just accept it?” He asked, this time more serious than before. “Why is it so hard for you to be honest with yourself?”

“Says you, who can’t be trusted even when you ask a question? Oh, please, Loki, you should know better,” you huffed as you folded your arms in front of your chest. “You say I should accept that I like being around you, that I don’t hate you as much as I say so. But why would I do that?” You asked as you walked up to him this time, standing in front of him sternly. “Let’s say, hypothetically of course, that indeed I don’t hate you per se and a part of me might enjoy being around you from time to time. If that was true, why would it be beneficial for me to accept it? I know you Loki and if I was to agree and say you were right, you would walk all over me and disappear faster than I could take a breath,” you huffed as you shook your head.

“Well, my little vixen, hypothetically speaking,” he started in a humorous tone, “if you stopped acting like you have no feelings for me and finally accepted that your hatred might not even be hatred but something more, we could actually break down this wall between us that you so carefully built and we could enjoy being in each other’s company,” he explained as though it was the most natural thing.

“Loki, you can’t possibly believe your own words,” you scoffed, earning a surprised expression from the man, your resistance catching him off guard.

“And why is that?” He asked curiously.

“The only reason you enjoy playing around with me is because I behave the way I do. In reality, nothing is black and white and so if I was to hypothetically enjoy your company, that means there would be disagreements, there would be fights, there would be emotions and Loki, let’s be honest, you find it even harder to trust people than I do and as soon as things would turn serious, you’d run,” you explained your worries. Even though the conversation was supposed to be theoretical, both of you spoke the truth, but the lack of trust hung high in the air.

“If that was my intention, I would have run a long time ago. I had the option to do so many times before, but I��m still here, am I not?” He asked as he brushed a piece of hair from your face behind your ears, his touch sending electricity through your body.

“I just feel like I can’t trust you,” you shook your head, letting your face fall forward, massaging the bridge of your nose, before you lifted your gaze again “I feel like if hypothetically speaking of course, I accept that there’s more to it than simple hatred, it will end in my feelings stomped on and my heart crushed into piece and I’m not naive enough to let that happen,” you tried to reason with him, but in reality you were trying to convince yourself why not to put your trust in him.

“I have to admit, I would have done so, years ago that is, but the one who I am now wants nothing more than to claim you mine,” he spoke in an endearing tone, his voice serious, but somewhat caring, unlike his usually cocky personality. Your eyes widened at the confession, his words ones you never thought you would ever hear from someone like him. “If it was someone else, I wouldn’t care what happens to them, I’m not a saint after all, but with you it’s different. You are my sly little vixen, my other half and nothing and no one can change that, only you if you wish to of course,” his voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, his words making you feel uncertain about what to do. Your mind and your heart battled against each other, confusing you further. “Will you accept me finally?” He asked with an expectant expression.

“I have been trying to stop myself from murdering you for the past three years, it’s not as simple,” you tried to argue, but the words leaving your lips were more to convince yourself.

“Well, that is very romantic,” he replied with a low chuckle as you mirrored his expression. “That’s a good start,” he pointed out the smile across your face. “I’m not saying it will be easy, nor do I see it will be perfect, but isn’t it worth a try?” As much as you wanted to argue, he was right. If you didn’t accept your feelings, it would forever be a ‘what if’ stuck in your head and deep down you knew you wanted to see where you two could go from there.

You stepped closer to him, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself, or so that was the plan, but as soon as you touched him, your hands went through his body, his astral body disappearing. “Loki!” You raised your voice in a warning tone, your deadly gaze looking for the man, his silent chuckle coming from behind you. You turned around in a swift motion, hitting him across the chest with gritted teeth both out of frustration and testing if it was his real self this time.

“I’m so sorry, love, I wasn’t sure how you would react, you can be rather unpredictable at times, so I had to have a backup plan,” he tried to explain himself, piling up excuses upon excuses. “But now that we are on the same page, we could get back to what you were trying to do. Did you want to kiss me? It looked like you were about to kiss me. Shall we try again?” He smirked proudly as he stepped closer and wrapped his strong arms around you. You tried to resist, attempting to push him away from your body, but his strength was unearthly, you didn’t stand much of a chance.

“Not happening. That was your one and only time to see a weaker side of mine. I don’t even believe what you ask anymore. I hate you, Loki!” You groaned, trying to get out of his hold.

“No, you don’t,” he replied with a smug grin across his face, dipping his head down to your level, but he didn’t move any closer. Your breath stuck in your lungs, your gaze fixed on his lips, however you tried to battle against your heart, your reasonable thoughts flew out the window as soon as Loki closed the gap between the two of you. His cold lips touched yours, sending a shiver across your spine, thousands of butterflies awakening in your stomach. Could you have resisted? Yes, if you really wanted to. But deep down you were craving for him and when his lips met yours, you melted into his arms and bathed in the physical pleasure his arms around you provided, the feel of his touch on your skin burning, a long-awaited connection bonding the two of you. As you finally parted, you gazed up into his green eyes, a loving look painted across his face.

“I still hate you though,” you added with a mischievous smile, as he mirrored yours.

“You really should watch that tongue of yours,” he warned you as his gaze fell on your lips.

“Why don’t you watch it for me?” You asked with an inviting tone and without a second thought Loki captured your lips again. It was hard to believe that he was holding you in his arms, but you chose to trust him and even though you knew there would be difficulties with the God of Mischief, a proud man being your other half, but not for a second did you think about taking a step back. It just felt right.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglists are in reblog from now on. Send me a message if you would like to be added :)

260 notes · View notes

titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part II

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 10.2k

Warnings: specific character attributes (not appearance, mentioned favorite color, movie, etc.), oral, rough sex, multiple orgasms, Erwin is kind of annoying, semi-exhibitionism, too much testosterone A/N: And, here we go again. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part and told me about it. This one’s for y’all~

Mike immediately notices when you start to avoid him. You had already been doing it, but now it's to the point of ducking into buildings you have no business being in and walking a little too briskly when you catch sight of him somewhere on campus. You also won't get anywhere near the Pi Kappa Alpha house.

And, he gets it. He fucked up that night. Or, he didn't fuck up, but he opened up. Too much. Showed that he was willing to be vulnerable, and you obviously had not liked that.

The first week of watching you duck and cover from afar isn't so bad. He's a little bummed, yeah, but he figures you'll come around, if not for him then at least for his dick.

But, one week turns to two, and Mike gets irritated, a little angry even. Because it's not like he did anything wrong. It's not like you haven't wanted it every time.

He doesn't know your class schedule exactly, but he does know when you get out of your 11 AM and have to cross the courtyard to your dorm. It's where Mike caught you last time when he was playing frisbee with Nile, and it's where he catches you now.

Your speed walking is no match for his normal stride, and he easily closes the distance between you two and grabs your wrist to tug you toward a more private area by the library.

"What the fu—what are you doing?" You spit, pulling yourself free.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get to my fucking room to nap! Is that okay?"

Mike ignores it, glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching, then asks, "Why are you avoiding me?"

Scoffing, you mumble an unconvincing, "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Bullshit."

"I've just been busy, okay? Midterms are coming up, and I'm falling behind…" He can tell you're lying by the way you can't meet his eyes. "I need to focus."

"Am I that big of a distraction?"

You don't miss a beat—"Yes," and your eyes widen at your own answer like you're surprised by it.

Mike raises his eyebrows, taken off guard, and you try to cover your tracks. "I mean, like, I don't have time to be fucking frat boys. And, I know you have the pick of the litter, so it's not like you'll go without."

He has to bite his tongue, a confession right on the tip of it—I pick you—but knows that's the last thing you want to hear. It's too early for thoughts like that anyway. You're too closed off, and he's too transparent. It's not like anything serious could work out anyway, and even if it could, he shouldn't tie himself down.

"I mean, yeah, but—"

You hold a hand up, take a deep breath. "Look, I'll be honest with you. You seem like an okay guy, but you should find some other girl to do this with. I don't wanna be another notch on your bedpost—"

"Then, don't be. We can just hang out."

"Yeah, we tried that at the party and still ended up sleeping together."

"We can make it a rule then." He's trying too hard, he knows, but he can't help it. "No fucking. I won't come onto you, and you won't come onto me."

You snort and pick at the hem of your shirt, obviously not buying any of this. "Why do you wanna be friends so bad anyway? Is it the hard-to-get thing? Is it that I'm making it difficult?"

"Maybe but not entirely."

Why does he want to be your friend so badly? You haven't given him any real reason to. You can bond over nerd shit here and there, but other than that, you don't have a lot in common.

You just seem… Cool. Aloof. Like you don't give a shit about anyone or anything, and Mike never thought he'd find that attractive in a girl, but apparently he does.

"Just come over one more time. We can watch something again or—"

"I'm not going into your room again!"

"You don't have to," Mike says, speaking with his hands to emphasize his point. "We can stay in the living room. Totally public. Any of the guys could walk in."

"Has that ever stopped any of you before?"

Not a hundred percent of the time. Mike has definitely seen more of Erwin and Gelgar than he'd like, but he can tell a little white lie.

"Yes."

You stare up at him, a skeptical look on your face, and then, "I'll see if I can pencil you in."

"Fuck yeah, I promise I'll show you a good time without, like, showing you a good time."

"Yeah, whatever."

You're unimpressed, turn to walk away, but Mike is feeling a little too triumphant, a little too bold, and catches you before you can get too far.

He premises, "Just to get it out of my system," then bends down and kisses you. Palms covering your cheeks, fingers curling around the back of your head kisses you. He uses both of his thumbs, just under your mouth, to part your lips so that he can slide his tongue past them, and you push at his chest half-heartedly, no real force to it as you let him lick into your mouth.

The first whimper that escapes you is what makes you break away, your hands stronger against him to shove him back, and Mike smirks when you glare at him.

"You're on thin fucking ice, Zacharias. Thin ice."

"I'll keep it in mind."

With that, you leave the little alcove the two of you were in, grumbling and cursing the whole way. Mike just watches the sway of your hips and licks his lips.

You come over on a Saturday afternoon. Mike can tell you've tried to make yourself look not cute in loose, ripped jeans and a t-shirt, but it doesn't work. Mike still smiles, and you still roll your eyes at him before kicking your shoes off by the door.

"Okay, so what are we doing?" You ask, sitting two cushions away from him on the couch.

"I brought my Switch in here, so we have that…"

"Oh, do you have the SNES games downloaded?"

"Dumb question. Of course I do."

"Rude. Open that shit up."

He does, and you demand to play Donkey Kong, which Mike has no problem with, but, "A please would be nice."

You click your tongue, holding your hand out for the second tiny controller and tell him, "You don't get to hear me beg anymore."

Mike feels his shorts tighten, but all he does is kick a foot over his thigh and warn you, "Best not test my self-control like that."

"Is that a threat?" You laugh, toggling down to 'Two Player' on the screen and clicking it.

"Not a threat." He bobs his head to the theme music. "Just lettin’ you know."

You get as far as Mine Cart Carnage together, but Mike ends up getting tossed from the cart, leaving you to take over as Diddy. He watches the way you move with your character, sitting up straighter, raising the controller to your chest, swaying one way then the next as if your body is tied directly to the game.

Erwin walks in a little while later when you're focused on Stop & Go Station. He sits down in a plush chair, phone in his hand that he ignores in favor of asking, "What are you guys doing out here? Shouldn't you be in Mike's room?"

Mike glances at him, gives him a look and shakes his head, but you're much less subtle when you snap, "Can it, Smith," eyes never leaving the screen.

"Don't count on that," Mike snorts. "I think it’s physically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut for longer than four seconds."

"Wooow," Erwin drawls, thick eyebrows high in offense. "I'm supposed to be able to trust you, and now you're just talking shit right in front of me."

"For some reason, I get the feeling your ego can't get bruised that easily," you muse out loud.

"I'll have you know I can be very sensitive," Erwin informs you matter-of-factly. "I have a heart. I have feelings. And, I've been told on multiple occasions that I'm more considerate than most men, so there."

You laugh, a silly sound that gets stuck in your throat. "Oh, really? And how many of those women—'cause that's what they are, I'm sure—were left behind after they built you up like that, hm?"

Biting both of his lips, Erwin sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. "I plead the fifth on that one."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought."

While you're fixated on the screen, Mike glances over at his friend, sees blue eyes shining as Erwin stares at you, a tell-tale smirk on his face. He's amused by you. Interested, even.

You stay for about an hour longer before going back to the dorms. As soon as the front door shuts, Mike swivels around and points a finger at Erwin, uttering a low, "Don't you dare," that makes the blond chuckle.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You mostly hang out on weekends and only in small bursts. Alternating between movies and video games, it's a little hard to speak to one another, but Mike is still able to pry some information out of you and share more about himself.

You're majoring in geological and earth sciences while Mike is working toward a degree in environmental science— "Kinda weird we haven't run into each other before."

You played basketball for a year in high school before getting annoyed by the other girls. Mike, on the other hand, made some of his best friends on his old soccer team.

You had a ferret growing up and now you'll "Never get another pet again 'cause when he died, I died a little with him." (It's the first time Mike has ever seen tears in your eyes, but you blink them away at record speed). He tells you about the dogs his family has had and how the one at home with his parents now is actually his. (Her name's Scout, and I would take a bullet for her.")

Hitch is your best friend even though she irritates the shit out of you, and Mike says something similar about Erwin. "He's a good guy. He's just… Passionate about so many things. He gets obsessive. Drives me insane."

"Obsessed with that pussyyy," you joke in a deep, stupid voice.

Mike snorts, "Perv," and keeps watching the movie that's playing.

And, speaking of movies, your favorite Disney film is The Fox and The Hound— "Good taste," while his is Lion King— "Classic." As far as other movies, though, the two of you spend half an hour arguing over which Mel Brooks is the best, end up having to agree to disagree (Young Frankenstein vs. High Anxiety).

Your favorite color is green. Your favorite food is pizza (“What are you, twelve?”). Your favorite animal is the pangolin. They’re all little facts that Mike stores away, and by the end of the semester, he actually feels like he kind of knows you, and somehow, against all odds, you've managed to not hookup through it all.

That's not to say it hasn't been hard (that he hasn't been hard). Sometimes you come over in skin tight jeans or crop tops, outfits that accentuate your body in all the right ways, and Mike is pretty sure that you do it on purpose.

You're both careful not to drink too much at parties, aware of the likely consequences, but you hang around him enough to gain people's attention—jealous girls watching in disappointment, curious guys sizing you up.

Questions inevitably arise. You complain about Hitch pestering you for details that you will not give her, and he tells you how he has to keep brushing off his brothers.

"She doesn't, like, know we've had sex—would never fucking leave me alone if she did. But she and all her other little friends are so annoying about it."

You're on the steps outside of the frat house, jackets zipped up, nursing steaming cups of cocoa you got from the nearby shop.

"So, what do you tell them?" Mike asks.

You shrug your shoulders. "That we're not fucking. Just friends. They don't believe me, but that's my story, and I'm sticking to it, dammit."

Mike laughs through his nose and takes another drink. "I mean, it's not a lie since we're not fucking and we are friends."

You make a high pitched noise, doubtful, challenging. "Friends is a strong word."

"Whatever."

He's used to you doing that now, denying him every chance you get even in a joking way. You've never once admitted to any type of feelings out loud, and he isn't sure why, some kind of avoidance behavior, but he won't complain because he knows you're at least a little fond of him. You wouldn't keep spending time with him if you weren't.

Deciding to change the subject, Mike prompts, "So, Erwin's party over the break," and you glance at him over your cup with interest. "You're coming, right?"

"I don't know. Isn't it at, like, his ranch house in bum fuck nowhere?"

"Kinda. It's only about a two hour drive from here, but it's definitely off the beaten path."

"I'll have to see. Need to spend time with my mom while I can."

Understandable. He's looking forward to seeing his own parents (and Scout, of course).

The last game of the season is played and won, then finals pass after too many all-nighters and too much Red Bull. Mike actually sighs in relief when he slides into his white Wrangler, all packed up and ready to make the drive back to his house.

He sends one text before pulling out onto the main road—Be safe—and hopes he won't have to wait an entire month to see you again.

Staying with your mom is nice but always slightly depressing. The house is empty with just her in it, less lived in than ever before. You can tell exactly which spots she spends most of her time in—her office to work and the couch in front of the TV to wind down.

You sleep in your old bedroom, spend most evenings texting Hitch after your mom goes to bed, but a few conversations with Mike slip in too. He sends you several pictures of Scout—beautiful but always wearing one of those perpetual Boxer frowns—and in return, you send him pictures of the pretty betta your mother has in her office. It's the best you can do.

After a week of being in your hometown, you're ready to leave it again. It's not terrible or in a bad part of town. It's just… lacking. You'd never tell your mother this, but you have a feeling she knows. It's probably why she doesn't put up a fight when you tell her you're gonna run off for a couple days to attend Erwin's party.

"I promise I'll be back. It's just one night and then the drive back."

Her tone is very serious when she tells you to stay out of trouble, but then she walks you out to your car and hugs you, watching and waving as you drive away.

You text Erwin on the way there to ask if it's okay to arrive early—like a few hours early cause I needed to get out of my house—and he replies enthusiastically.

Absolutely! Mike and Levi are already here 😃

You have no idea who this Levi is outside of hearing Erwin mention him a few times, but you very quickly find out when you get to the large but secluded house. You see Erwin's stupid (gorgeous) vintage Mustang parked in the gravel driveway as well as Mike's white Jeep and an unfamiliar, black Prius.

All three of them are on the porch occupying outdoor chairs that probably cost more than your fucking dorm expenses, but Mike and Erwin both stand when you make your way up the sidewalk. Staying seated, or really sprawled out with his hands behind his head, is a fairly small man (boy, maybe) with inky hair and sunglasses covering his eyes. He’s dressed much differently than the other two, ripped jeans, Doc Martens, and a striped long sleeved shirt under a short sleeved band tee.

“What in the e-boy fuck…” You mutter to yourself, nodding at the blonds and letting Mike take your backpack—not that you really have a choice considering your grip on it is no match for his.

“Was the drive okay?” He asks, swinging the bag over his shoulder and making it look incredibly small.

“Yeah. Once I hit the backroads I could start going, like, eighty-five, so that shaved some time off.”

Mike snorts. “You sound like Erwin. Dude’s always speeding.”

“Don’t fucking start with me. I was in the car with you when you almost hit a pedestrian on a crosswalk.”

“We don’t talk about that.”

Everyone follows Erwin inside the house. It’s just as nice as you thought it’d be, sprawling and open with wood floors, plush furniture, and rustic decorations. There are moose antlers mounted in one room and a god damned bear head in another. It makes you roll your eyes, but to say you’re unimpressed would be a flat out lie.

“Not everyone is staying the night, but I know you have to, so just pick an upstairs room,” Erwin tells you after the grand tour. “I can take you around on the golf cart once you settle in.”

You see Mike roll his green eyes and amend, “We can take you around.”

“Yeah,” Erwin nods. “That’s what I meant.”

Levi is making a face up at Erwin, furrowed brow, squinty eyes, and a little grimace. He hasn’t said more than two words to you since you’ve arrived (“I’m Levi.”), but he doesn’t seem like the chatterbox type, a little more standoffish, and you can’t blame him for that.

“Just in case you’re wondering, I’m in the middle room,” Mike tells you with a grin.

“And why, pray tell, would I be wondering that?”

He basically sings in his deep voice, “No reason,” then walks back downstairs with Erwin and Levi, leaving you to make yourself comfortable.

You take the bedroom at the far end of the hallway out of spite more than anything, but you figure the farther away you can be from Mike the better. After setting your things down and organizing deodorant, perfume, and every day jewelry on the dresser, you join the guys downstairs to find them huddling over the kitchen island talking about plans for the night.

“Should we get a keg? It won’t be that many people, but it might be easier to just pour from one,” Erwin thinks out loud.

“Don’t bother getting a keg if it’s gonna be the same shitty beer you guys have at Pike parties,” you chime in, hip checking Mike so that he’ll scoot over and allow you join their little meeting.

Levi lets out a little laugh, the most expressive you’ve seen him so far, while the other two pout at your criticism.

“Why don’t you pick the beer then?” Erwin prompts. “Since you have such refined tastes.”

Eyebrows lifting, you laugh. “Oh, we’ve got a smartass in the house tonight.” The blond smirks and dusts off his shoulders, making Mike groan in either annoyance or embarrassment. You can’t be sure which one.

“Fuck, is this what it’s always like between you three?” Levi asks, looking between all of you. “Just constant bickering?”

“More or less.”

“That seems exhausting.”

“It is,” you confirm. “‘S’why I can only hang out with them in small doses.”

“Ouch.”

“Wounded.”

“Anyway,” you let your head hang so that all they can see is your shoulders shaking as you giggle, and when you look back up, you make sure that the smile is mostly wiped from your face. “I’m not saying I’m some kind of beer expert, but I at least know that the shit you serve at parties is rancid.”

“And yet, you always seem to forget,” Mike teases. “I always end up having to finish yours.”

“You don’t have to. You choose to, you fucking alkie.”

It’s hard to come to any sort of decision with the non-stop push and pull of the conversation, and eventually Levi just walks away to let the three of you work it out. Erwin orders a keg of Rolling Rock, says something about, “Dad won’t mind me splurging a little since I downsized this whole thing for him,” and you scoff at him.

He’s well aware of his privilege, talks about it in an ironic manner that’s both maddening and hilarious— “Father is going to let me take the yacht out this weekend,” and, “Oh, that’s not country club appropriate.” It makes you laugh every fucking time, but it also usually earns him a smack or two.

The next few hours are spent gathering party supplies and getting the house ready (as in moving some furniture around and hiding valuables). Erwin leaves to pick up the keg after assuring the vendor on the phone that he can drive to them and pay extra for the short notice. You don’t know how he manages it, but you assume his confidence has a lot to do with it.

Only about twenty people are supposed to come, “An Erwin Smith exclusive,” Mike jokes with you as you stash a couple of vases in the kitchen cabinets.

“Oh, does that mean I’m special?” You play.

“Absolutely.”

There’s something churning in your gut as you move around downstairs with Mike and Levi, an omniscient feeling, like you know how the night will end, but you’re going to fight it every step of the way. You’ve made it this long without a slip-up, and you’re determined to make it one more night.

Erwin gets back with about three hours to spare. He and Mike disappear to change into what you assume to be their usual douche-y attire, and you and Levi sit alone in the large living room waiting quietly.

You’re surprised when he speaks first, stating, “You don’t seem the sorority type.”

Turning, you try to make sense of it, respond, “Well, I’m not.” You’re almost offended that he’d even consider you were.

“Then what are you doing hanging around with those frat boy fucks?”

“Oh, that.” You sigh. “Uhh, my friend made me go to one of their parties, and I just… Made an impression, I guess.”

“You fucked one of ‘em, didn’t you?” Levi is smirking, so sure of himself that you don’t really see the point in denying it.

“Yeah.”

“Rich boy or the giant?”

You look over at him, defenses rising like they did your first night in the Pi Kappa Alpha house. “The fuck is it to you?”

Holding his hands up, Levi chuckles, “Alright, alright, forget I asked.”

You cross your arms over your chest, stare off as you wonder if it’s actually that hard to tell. You figured it would be obvious that you’re more comfortable with Mike than with Erwin, but you have been getting more used to the other brazen blond over the last few months, just like you’ve been getting a little more used to Nile and all the other brothers. You haven’t sucked any of their dicks, though.

“How’d you meet Erwin?” You try.

You’re not surprised when Levi snarks, “The fuck is it to you?”

You can’t tell if the two of you are going to leave this ranch house as mortal enemies or as friends, but it’ll definitely be one of them.

“‘Cause you don’t seem the type to hang out with them either,” you tell him.

It's definitely odd. He and Erwin have to go back some time to have been able to stick together through their college years and all of their superficial differences.

Levi admires the black polish on his nails then informs you in a bored tone, “We’ve been friends since we were kids, but it’s no big deal. Just can’t get rid of him.”

The corner of his mouth turns upward, so he can’t be too heartbroken over it. You understand that, haven’t quite been able to shake your puppy-dog of a friend since the beginning of the semester, but you’re not as annoyed about it as you pretend to be.

“They certainly do get attached,” you hum.

The two men in question join you once again, looking much more palatable in jeans and v-necks. Erwin has a button-down hanging open and rolled up to his elbows while Mike is wearing a black and white flannel in similar fashion. It’s the most casual they’ve been at a party, and you can’t help but joke, “Wow, look at you two. More human, less lizard people for once.”

Erwin rolls his eyes while Mike mumbles a Doctor Who reference that makes you suck on the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning.

He’s got his charm turned on tonight, the kind that appeals to you, which will definitely pose a problem.

People start arriving at around eight, some you recognize from the college, some you don’t who you assume to be some of Erwin’s older friends. Gelgar taps the keg within minutes of walking in then plays the role of bartender for the next ten minutes as everyone lines up for a drink. There’s liquor and mixers set up on the counter, and you consider just making your usual, but you figure you should have at least a little of the beer since you’re the one who fought for the more expensive brand.

When you get your cup, foam nearly overflowing past the rim, you take one sip only to cough it back up when Mike shows off his usual party trick—appearing out of thin air—and asks, “You gonna finish it this time?”

You splutter as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand then glare up at him. “I’m gonna try, but it’s gonna be pretty fuckin’ difficult if you keep making me spit up like a god damn baby.”

He’s amused, light eyes dancing mischievously, and you know you’re in for a long night.

Erwin has a playlist filtering through the house’s sound system, a nice balance of several different genres playing at a bearable volume for the first time. Games start up in the kitchen, rage cage around the island, beer pong at the table, and while you’re content to just wallflower in the corner, Mike drags you into it.

“You’re just as bad as Hitch," you complain, but he isn't fazed, just plants you in an open spot at the island and stands right beside you. He's gonna regret doing that; rage cage is one of the only competitive games you're actually good at, but he'll find that out.

It's fast-paced, full of screaming and laughing, jumping and shoving. You get to slam your cup into Mike's on several occasions, drawing curses from him every time.

"Honestly, it's a little embarrassing," you ridicule with a smile.

He downs the small amount of beer in the cup he pulls, adds it to the stack, then challenges, "I'll show you embarrassing. Just wait."

You've had maybe two beers altogether, but it still sends a jolt down your spine.

The two of you play another couple of rounds, and Mike does seem to catch on a little more, but he eventually bows out and pulls you away with him.

More beer. Meandering around the party. It's pretty tame in comparison to all the Pike events you've attended, but the later it gets, the rowdier everyone becomes. Music gets turned up to dance. The keg stops being used for pouring and starts being used for stands. You have the absolute pleasure of watching Erwin hold Levi upside down as the smaller man chugs as much as he can. He beats Nile's record, raises his arms in victory as Erwin shakes him by the shoulders in excitement.

"They're pretty close, yeah?"

Mike looks down at you as you stand on your tip-toes to get closer to his ear as you speak.

He nods. "I don't really understand them, but yeah. They've been friends since, like, elementary school, I think."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

You play beer pong against Gelgar and Nile, end up losing by quite a lot, and by the time you finish the remaining cups and another full drink, you're feeling good. Warm, happy, dangerously giggly.

Mike stands too close as you make your rounds to talk to people, many of them asking how the lacrosse season went. He puffs his chest a little, tries and fails to act modest, but instead of getting irritated like you usually do, you find yourself resting your cheek against his arm as you shake your head. You don't know if the action is to disagree with him or to get closer, but it makes Mike chuckle and shift so that he can wrap that arm around you and pull you to his chest instead.

He smells nice—woodsy with a sweet little bite. It makes your mouth water. You try to call back your determination from before, that readiness to fight and deny, but Mike's body is firm and massive and hot against yours, and he's also drunk and smiling sideways. His eyes are hazy and gorgeous when he peers down at you. His stubble has grown into that perfect length, the kind that feels incredible between your legs, and you can already see your hands tugging at his shaggy hair as he flips it from his face.

"You okay?" He rumbles, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

He knows. You know he knows. And, he knows that you know that—

Fuck. Stop. Just…

"What do you think?" You're aware of what you're saying. The words make perfect sense. You just can't stop them from falling from your mouth is all.

"I don't know," Mike says, a playful lilt to his voice. "Why don't you tell me?"

You're not sure if he's asking for your consent or if he just wants to humiliate you by making you spell it out for him.

"I mean…" Your gaze travels from his face to his neck to his pecs and downward. "The semester is over."

"It is," he agrees, hand moving from your waist to your hip.

"Don't really need to be, uh… What's the word…" You squeeze your eyes shut, splaying your fingers on his stomach. "Studious," you snap. "Don't need to be so studious on vacation."

Mike very slowly starts walking backwards toward the staircase, holding you at arms length by both your hips now.

"No, you really don't."

Voice of reason fading away, you step around him but grab his hand, taking the stairs two by two until you're on the balcony that wraps above the living room. Once you slip into the closer room, yours, you lock the door.

Mike's mouth is familiar in its desperation—tastes like beer and want and him. He pulls his flannel off behind him by the sleeves just in time for you to start pushing his shirt up over his abs, in awe all over again at the muscle group.

It's really not fair.

You pause between kisses to strip, smiling and groaning whenever your lips meet again. You've missed it on some level—the heat, the fucking attraction you just can't shake. All the times you hung out with him, purposely keeping distance, avoiding flirting and touching and staring—you figured it would come to a head. You even guessed there was a good chance that it would be at this party.

But, that doesn't mean you're prepared when he throws you onto the bed, doesn't prepare you for the way he bites your lip and sucks on your neck and pinches your nipples until you moan his name and grind against him, and it certainly doesn't prepare you for the way he spreads your legs, runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, then drags his tongue over your slit.

"Fuck, Mike."

He groans, quick to slide the muscle into your pulsing cunt to taste you. His fingertips are digging into the fat of your thighs, keeping you still save for your trembling which makes the feeling of his mouth even more intense. You want to buck against his face, want to put out the fire raging inside of you by moving somehow, letting some of the energy out, but you can't. All you can do is lay there as Mike licks around your hole and nibbles at your clit and laps up your juices.

"Missed this fuckin' pussy," he breathes, sucking on one of your lips and then the other, pulling blood to the surface and making them puffy and sensitive.

You card fingers through his hair before fisting your hand in it and shoving his face further into your cunt, trying as hard as you fucking can to ride any part of him you can manage—his tongue, his nose, anything that will give you friction.

The sound he makes at your pathetic attempt is bestial, a low, throaty grunt as he rubs his chin up and down your slit, drenching himself in your slick and quickly overstimulating your swollen clit with his stubble.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck—"

"You wanted it," he grits. "You pushed your sloppy little cunt right in my face, so now you've gotta take everything I give you."

You cry as he continues the motion, pussy drooling as the little bud starts to grow raw. "Mike, please, please…"

"Gonna make sure you feel this tomorrow." He stops only to lean back down and suck your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue is soft in comparison to the coarse hair, but it still makes your hips twitch, and when he grazes his teeth over it, you squeal and kick.

It's so close to hurting, right on the edge, but it's that helplessness that has you steadily leaking on the bed. It's what makes it easy for Mike to push a finger into your clenching hole, pump a couple times, then slide another one in beside it.

Your climax is coiling in your gut, compressed like a spring and only getting tighter with every thrust of long, thick fingers and every measured flick of his tongue.

Gripping his hair again, you ride it out. Mike loosens his grip just enough to allow you to undulate in time with the waves that wash over you, and you moan loudly as he moves to flatten his tongue over your entrance so that you come on and against it.

He gives you some time to settle down, but you know he isn't done yet, and since you're not quite ready to take his cock in your sensitive pussy, you pull your legs from the sides of his head and crawl to lay with your head off the side of the bed.

Mike gets the picture immediately, and you hear a huff of air leave him all at once before he clambers off the mattress to position himself at the edge. You're a little too low, so he grabs all four pillows to shove under you, and as he does, you lavish his bobbing cock with kitten licks, going as far as sucking on his balls when he leans over you.

"Jesus fucking—"

You can feel the way they tighten, his cockhead dripping pre that lands just below the notch of your sternum. It isn't until he's thoroughly coated in spit that you stop and let him straighten, then open your mouth and relax your shoulders.

Mike is careful as he slides his tip past your lips, letting you adjust to the weight of his cock in your mouth before he pushes in a little further. Your eyes start watering as soon as he passes between your molars, making you stretch your jaw and drool from the corners of your mouth.

He pulls out then, taps his cockhead on your cheek, leaving a mix of precum and spit on your skin before lining himself up again and sliding back in.

He repeats the process a few times as if it'll actually get you used to his size, but it's just not possible. You gag and gurgle, slurp back drool when you're given the chance, and your entire body throbs when Mike tells you, "I'm gonna give you more now, okay? Wanna see your throat bulge with my cock."

You moan around him, try to make the passage of your mouth and esophagus as straight as possible then let your eyes roll back as he slips into the tighter sleeve for a few seconds. Your toes dig into the bedspread, fingers clawing at the material as you fight back the panic that comes with not being able to breathe.

Mike pulls out panting, and you wish you could see his face, the look in his eyes, but you can't. All you can do is lap at his cock until he pushes it into your mouth again.

This time when he slips into your throat, he reaches down to press a hand to your neck, letting out a deep, disbelieving laugh as he feels the way his length moves in it. "Holy shit. I could—" he just barely gives you more, and your responding whine is completely muffled by him, "—Could come like this."

The thought makes you tingle. Or maybe that's the lack of oxygen. You are feeling a little lightheaded. But the idea of him coming down your throat, right into your stomach, fuck, it makes your cunt pulse again.

Mike pulls out, and you suck in deep breaths, a little sob making your chest heave. Tears are streaming from your eyes, getting caught in your hair, and you have to wipe other various fluids from your face.

He helps you sit back up, rubs your shoulders and kisses the back of your neck as your heart rate returns to normal. As soon as he sees you relax, though, he's tugging you from the bed and bending you over it.

The scream that's pushed from you is hoarse as you're split open on his cock. Mike holds you by the hair, pulling your head back as he snaps his hips forward and back relentlessly. He slides in and out of you easily, but that doesn't mean he isn't stretching you to your breaking point.

You shake on the bed, thankful when he lets go of your head so that you can fall back to the mattress, crying and moaning all you want.

"Feel so good, baby," Mike groans. "So good."

He punctuates it with a slap to your ass that causes you to squeeze him, and that only encourages him to repeat the action until both your cheeks are radiating heat and stinging from his hands.

He flips you like a doll, and you're finally able to see his face clearly as he stares down at you with a dropped jaw and heavy lids. You know you're a mess, fucked out and sloppy, but as he abuses your g-spot with the ridge of his cock, all you can do is grin drunkenly and let your eyes roll.

"So pretty when you smile," he praises. Fingers grip your chin, and when you're able to focus your gaze again you find Mike leaning over you, face level with yours. "Open your mouth for me." His tone is soft yet demanding, and you don't hesitate for a second as you do what you're told.

Mike pushes spit through his lips, letting it drip and stretch until it lands on your tongue. It makes you feel cheap and disgusting, but it doesn't stop you from squirting around him.

Devolving into nothing more than grunts and groans, Mike continues to fuck into you but straightens so that he can reach your clit better. He flicks it back and forth until your true orgasm hits you, and then he keeps going.

You cry out, squirm wildly beneath him, but all it results in is two fingers being shoved in your mouth. Stroking over the back of your tongue, more saliva pours from your mouth just like the slick that pours from your pussy while he toys with your clit.

You come again. And again. When Mike finally removes his hand from between your legs, you're nothing more than a puddle, moaning and crying for him.

Every orgasm has made your walls swell around him, his cock feeling longer and thicker than ever as he kisses your cervix with every thrust. That lightheaded sensation is back, white dots dancing around your eyes, and you just barely manage out his name, tapping in his forearm.

"Need… need…"

"What do you need, babe?"

Your arms curl up by your head, fingers moving and spasming as every one of your senses is overwhelmed.

"Need you to—t-to—to come. Need you to c-come."

You've never had to tap out before, but you can't take him anymore. His size. His expression. His lack of fucking mercy.

"Yeah?" He coos, but his cock is still dragging in and out of you. You nod, but Mike draws it out, asking, "Where do you want me to come?"

"Don't… Care…"

"You don't care?" He's still moving, fucking you absolutely stupid as he lists out, "Your face? Your tits?" He gropes your chest, pinching both nipples, and the fact that you don't even whimper must clue him into the fact that he's about to lose you.

Your mind is swimming, fading every time he pulls out only to be brought back online when he pushes back in.

"What about your pussy? Want me to come all over your pussy?"

You moan, the simplest part of your brain apparently finding that appealing, so after a few more thrusts, Mike pulls out entirely and jerks himself off until he covers your folds in hot cum. He gets some on your thighs, some on your pelvis, soaks your peaking clit so that you take in a stuttering breath.

His hand is between your legs again, fingertips spreading the viscous fluid around and dipping into your slit.

Your eyes shoot open for the first time in God knows how long, a panicked, "M-Mike," tumbling from your lips, but he hushes you.

"I'm not pushing it inside or anything. Just having fun."

And, fuck, tonight is the night you learn how filthy he is. Mike spends a few solid minutes rubbing his seed over your puffy lips, fingers the raw tissue around your hole so that you leak for him, then uses it to massage your clit slowly and softly, pulling one last orgasm from you that makes fresh tears spring in your eyes.

You're going to be in a world of pain tomorrow, but you can't regret it—not when your legs continue to shake long after your climax, not when you can already feel that satisfying ache deep inside of you, not when Mike crawls to sit on the bed and lifts you into his arms.

"You okay?" He asks into your hair.

He's rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you drift in and out. You know you need to shower, but you're so tired and so wrecked, you doubt you'll be able to stand for long enough to clean yourself.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Mm, little bit," you tell him honestly. You can actually feel his heart start to beat harder in his chest, so you reassure him, "Liked it, though."

You think something like twenty minutes pass, but you can't be sure as you keep dozing. It's hard not to with Mike rubbing your stomach, his body rising and falling in rhythm with every breath he takes.

When your eyes open more than halfway, you begin to move, grimacing at the soreness between your legs as well as the mess.

"'m gonna hop in the shower," you announce.

Mike sits up too, stretches his arms and asks through a groan, "Want me to come with?"

"You've done enough coming tonight," you snort. "But nah, I can clean myself on my own."

His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't say anything, just lets you get up and walk to the bathroom on shaky legs.

The hot water almost puts you back to sleep. You manage to rinse off where you need to, step back into the room fully expecting to see Mike passed out in your bed, but he's nowhere to be found.

As you crawl under the covers, you try to swallow the feeling of disappointment that's stuck in your throat.

Mike is up before almost everyone in the house the next morning, so he spends most of it trying to clean up alongside Levi, though he apparently isn't doing a very good job of it according to the smaller man.

"Jesus, have you ever mopped a floor in your life?"

"Oh, so we're just throwing everything in the same trash bag? No recycling? Your future kids will thank you for that, I'm sure."

"No, there's no way I’m letting you wipe down the counters. Just move."

Levi is lucky Mike is as laid back as he is otherwise he would have thrown the little fuck into the koi pond behind the house a long time ago.

Erwin wakes up around nine and walks down looking a little rough, but Mike has definitely seen him in worse states.

"Thanks for cleaning up," he says, bent over the island and holding his head in his hands. "Pretty sure I would have thrown up if I'd tried. Several times."

He tells the other two that pretty much everyone else started heading out at around three and that he has a list of party-goers he needs to text to make sure they made it home in one piece, "When I can actually fucking see straight."

Naturally, the conversation turns to Mike. Erwin, with his cheek now pressed against the cool, granite countertop, smirks up at him and asks in a sly voice, "So, how was your night?'

Mike bites his lip to hide a smile, leans out of the kitchen to make sure you aren't stumbling down the stairs or traipsing about the house, then looks back to his friend and laughs, "Fucking mind-blowing, dude." He doesn't go into explicit detail—that's never been his style—but he does whisper about you taking him better than any other girl and that he's, "Addicted, dude. I genuinely think I am addicted to her pussy."

"Don't be fucking dramatic, Zacharias," you pop out behind him, slapping his back as you pass him to get to the fridge. He can see the ghost of a smile turning your lips up, but it's hard to feel satisfied at that when his own face is beet red.

Looking at Erwin, Mike throws his hands out by his side, mutters an incredulous, "Dude," that makes the other blond chuckle.

You grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, making Levi grumble, "Are none of you guys concerned about the planet? God damn."

Standing between Mike and Erwin, you take a few gulps, all eyes on you until you swallow and question, "Can I help you?" Now that you're right next to him, Mike can hear a scratchiness to your voice, almost as if you're getting sick, but he knows better, knows exactly where it came from, and fuck if it doesn't make him twitch in his sweats.

"Have a good time at the party?" Erwin pries once again.

You look at him with a deadpan expression, then answer, "Seems like you already got the deets, so sure. I had a grand time."

Mike isn't sure if you're being sarcastic about it just like you are everything else. You had just kind of left him hanging when you'd gone to shower. He hadn't thought too much into it even if he'd been a little bummed, but he thinks he understands. You just need more space than he does.

Or, it could have been that you hadn't enjoyed yourself. Oh god, what if you'd just been faking? What if you'd lied to him when he asked if he hurt you? What if you're in pain right now and just hiding it?

Mike zones out while you talk with Erwin and Levi about plans for the day, works himself into a nice little panic but is still able to hear you tell them you're just gonna head back to your mom's.

"You sure?" Erwin asks. "I know you only planned to stay one night, but you're more than welcome to hang out for longer. We’ll be here for at least another few days."

Levi adds an, "Unfortunately," that earns him a hair ruffle he swats away.

"No, it's cool. I can't leave mom alone for the holiday or she'll start to think I don't like staying at the house."

"You don't, though."

"Yeah, but she doesn't have to know that."

Mike stares after you as you take your water bottle and return upstairs, and it doesn't escape the notice of the other two men.

"You're so fuckin' whipped, man," Erwin teases.

Mike doesn't deny it, just holds up a middle finger.

Erwin isn't entirely wrong, though. Mike has been trying to deny it or play it off as nothing more than lust, but there's more to his feelings at this point. He tries not to be obvious around you, to keep his cards close to his chest because he knows you just want to keep things casual—barely even want that if he's being honest.

So he can hide it. He can pretend it isn't happening. In fact, Mike should be thankful that you only want sex (sometimes) because it leaves him to do whatever he wants. He could fuck other chicks left and right, and you wouldn't even bat an eyelash. That's a good thing, right?

That worry about last night still has him on edge, though, so before you can leave, Mike catches you in your room as you're packing up and closes the door.

He expects you to make some kind of comment about not being able to go again, but all you do is tilt your head to the side in a dangerously cute way.

"Hey, I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you felt okay after last night."

You blink at him, pause in folding your clothes, then show a wide, real grin.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sore in various places—like, super sore—but I'm fine."

Mike's mouth twists to hide his smirk, and he mumbles a low, "Sorry."

"Don't ever apologize for your monster cock," you tell him, setting your shirt down on the mattress before pacing over to him. "Like, unless there's tearing of some sort, which there really shouldn't be since you're good at preparation, whoever you fuck should be okay. Sore but okay."

His eyes go a little wide when you stop in front of him, looking up with an expression he's really never seen before—or maybe that you've never allowed him to see before—and the longer he stares, the more he realizes that you're god damn glowing.

Taking a chance, he finds your waist with his hands, inches just a little closer, then leans down when you stand on your toes and tug him by the shirt.

You taste like peppermint and already smell like the perfume you wear every day, the scent that has made Mike dizzy for the past few months. He moves a hand to your back to press your body into his, and when you take his bottom lip into your mouth, biting and sucking, he groans and pulls back before he can get too hard.

"What's all this? Why are you so perky this morning?"

"I get giddy after good sex," you say with a shrug. "Sue me."

"That why you run away every time I fuck you?" He questions.

You nod. "Couldn't run away this time, though."

"I'm sure it's really bruising your pride, letting me see you all warm and gooey."

"I am not warm and gooey," you protest. "I was last night, but—"

"Aw, gross, why'd you have to say it like that?"

You giggle—giggle—then remind him, "You're the one who felt the need to fucking fingerpaint."

Mike vividly remembers the way your pussy looked covered in his cum, the way it felt to smear it and play with your swollen entrance and clit, and now… Now he is definitely hard again.

"Better stop before you end up on that bed again."

Your eyes are dancing, tone mischievous when you respond, "Only if you're gentle."

"Christ—"

He's got you naked and spread on the mattress in less than thirty seconds, tongue buried in your cunt as he soothes every part of you he can reach.

It would be cruel to actually fuck you again. He knows you're probably a little more tender than you're letting on, so Mike settles for licking into you and flicking your clit, never using teeth as it swells in his mouth so that you pant and moan, and promise, "I can handle it, Mike, I can…"

"I don't care if you can or can't. Just lemme do this."

And, it's not like he hasn't pulled his cock from his pants, pumping it and coating his length in the pre-cum he drips at the mere sight of you.

He can tell you're getting close when your thighs start to tense. You alternate between shifting your hips and going slack. It's the latter that you leak the most, pussy opening around his tongue only to clench a few seconds later.

"Just one finger, Mike, please, I want—I need something inside me, please, please," you moan.

Mike turns his face to kiss your thigh, sighing but giving in easily when he acquiesces, "Only one."

The noise you make as he slides his middle finger into you is like music, high pitched and drawn out, with an awe one would sing hymns with.

"Yes, yes, yes, thank you, fuck, tha—"

He understands why you wanted it so badly when he pulls it out and sees his finger coated in white, considers fucking you with it to the point of tears, but before he can, the door to the bedroom swings open and fucking Erwin walks in to ask, "Levi and I are going to the store—"

“Jesus fuck, Erwin!" Mike swears. "A little busy here!"

His friend is unfazed, but more importantly, you are too, arching your back, pulling Mike's hair to get him back where you want him, then moaning his name like you never have before as you come.

You tremble and take in stuttering breaths, and Mike does his best to hide your exposed pussy from prying eyes as he looks at Erwin and barks out a furious, "No, I don't need anything from the store. Get out."

The blond shrugs and turns, walking out without shutting the door, and Mike swears he's gonna kill him. He's too bold and too entitled and now he's seen far too much of your body, and Mike doesn't like that.

"Did you come?" You ask in an airy voice. Mike guesses you could feel the rhythm of his hand on his cock, probably pushing his face harder against you with every pass.

"Uh, no. I don't know if you noticed, but Erwin walked in."

"I noticed," you snort, sitting up on your elbows. "Why do you think I moaned your name like that?"

"What?" It had seemed a little odd. Mike knows he's pretty good at oral, but you've never made a sound like that before.

"Fucker wanted to see what we were up to, I decided to show him. Now he knows how good you are."

Mike stands, peers down at you skeptically and says, "You're being too nice to me today. It's freakin' me out a little."

He doesn't think it's necessary to add that Erwin is already aware of his sexual prowess considering they definitely had a threesome with a rather adventurous girl back in freshman year. It's just not pertinent information.

"Soak it up, Zacharias. I'm sure the good mood will be gone by tomorrow."

"Why, cause I won't be at your mom's to fuck you stupid every night?" His voice comes out cocky, but it's stifled by the way you squeal when he slaps a hand over your wet pussy.

"I'm sensitive, you asshole!" You're smiling even as you whine. "And, here I was about to give you head to get you off."

"I mean, you can still do that."

You glare up at him the whole time you slide off the bed to your knees, warn, "Better hope I don't bite."

After you leave (and after making out against Mike’s Wrangler for a little too long), he goes back inside to find Erwin and Levi lounging in the den with a movie playing. He wastes no time in snapping his fingers at Erwin and commanding, "We're gonna talk."

"Oh, are we?" Erwin doesn't even look away until Mike grabs the back of his shirt, and only then does he move from his spot. "Okay, okay, watch the wrinkles, bro."

He follows Mike into the kitchen, out of earshot unless either of them raise their voices which… Could happen.

"What the fuck was that?" Mike hisses.

Erwin looks at him with big blue eyes and plays dumb, "What the fuck was what?"

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Mike makes sure his voice comes out low and steady, "Smith, I swear to God, it's been a long time since I've punched you, but you're fuckin' testing me, dude."

Erwin smiles, face lighting up with what looks like excitement but could also be fury.

"Mike," he starts. "Don't tell me you're getting violent over a girl." His tone is patronizing, his eyebrows are high, and his grin is downright menacing.

"I haven't gotten violent yet," Mike grits.

"Hey, how was I to know what you two were doing up there?"

"It's not about you walking in, dude! It's about you just fucking standing there!"

Erwin chuckles and blows him off, "Mike, I've seen your dick before. You've got nothing to worry about."

"That's not what I'm worried about. You just, like, came in when she was in a vulnerable position, and that's fucked up."

"She didn't seem to mind."

Mike sucks his teeth, takes another grounding breath, then asks again, "Why? Why did you wait to leave?"

"You want me to be honest?" Erwin rolls his neck then his shoulders. Mike has seen him do that many times before lacrosse games to loosen up—to get ready for a fight.

Mike's fist clenches at his side. "Yeah, I do."

"You've been making yourself crazy over this girl since the start of the semester, and I want to know why."

"What do you mean?" Mike doesn't know why he asks, has a pretty good idea of what Erwin is alluding to.

The blond still dodges the question but in about the worst way possible. "It's not like you two are exclusive or anything."

Mike feels the way his lungs fill to the point of burning, how his jaw clenches until his molars begin to ache under the pressure, and before he really knows what's happening, he's bowing up to his best friend.

Erwin matches him, only a couple inches shorter, chin tilted, that maddening light in his eyes.

"Walk away, Mike," he warns. "And, we can forget this little spat even happened."

Mike peers down his nose at him, trying to rein in his emotions because Erwin is right. You two aren't exclusive. You don't want to be. You told him it was because you need to focus on school, but it could be that you want other options.

But fuck, Mike doesn't want Erwin to be one of them. He's stolen more than a few girls right from under Mike's nose with his stupid charm and stupid face and stupid money. He doesn't want you to fall prey to all of it too.

Mike doesn't even register the quiet footsteps padding into the kitchen, but Levi's smartass, "You guys about to kiss or somethin'?" definitely snaps him out of his head.

Stepping back, Mike resists the urge to punch the counter and break his fucking hand, then turns and strides out.

He's supposed to stay at the ranch house for a couple more days, but Mike needs to distance himself before he does something stupid.

When he comes back downstairs with his bag on his shoulder and his keys in his hand, Erwin seems to realize his error on at least some level and stands from his place on the couch.

"Mike, come on, I'm sor—"

"Let me cool off, dude,” Mike snaps.

Erwin shuts his mouth and sits back down, smart enough not to follow Mike outside.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #mels prima vista #mels frat house

283 notes · View notes