#my old laptop I use to game with my friends is slowly breaking down so this would have actually been real handy about now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 2

WHOA I am amazed by all the love this story has received so far, chapter one has become my most liked post, huh?! I'm in shock, thank you! My thirst for muster Joon fueled this to be released earlier than anticipated, so enjoy! ;)

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader, Yoongi x reader & Taehyung x reader & Namjoon x reader focused this chapter

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, voyeur, masturbation A LOT of it, gaslighting & reader manipulation, shibari, intoxication, dubcon, choking, public nudity, sexual touching in public, dom!Namjoon & sub!reader

Word count: 5.3k

---

You press record and the red light on your webcam lights up. Your heartbeat races as you navigate the House of Cards website. You already have viewers and you’ve only just spent your time staring at the chat. You wish you had picked something sexier as you sit cross legged in an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. You wear a red eye mask to conceal your identity, part of an old superhero Halloween costume you pulled out from the depths of your closet. You felt like a dumbass. ‘Super Girl wouldn’t have to do this kind of shit.’

“Sorry, i-it’s my first time...m-maybe I could take suggestions?” You watch the chat move as you hold your breath. You wanted to sound sexy but you can’t stop stuttering out your words.

You’ve never been more anxious in your life, the ends of your fingers feel numb and you can hear your own pulse thumping in your ears. You’re openly inviting strangers to get off on your body, you’re about to expose yourself in ways you’ve never done before. This isn’t like sending a sexy photo to a boyfriend when you’re feeling needy, this is so much more reckless.

Just when you’re starting to regret doing this, just when you’re about to end the feed and hide in humiliation, a notification ding pulls you away from your thoughts.

Suga: take off your shirt

Your on-screen balance goes from zero to a hundred dollars. You gulp and your eyes go wide at the amount. A hundred dollars just to take your shirt off? That seems too good to be true.

‘Okay, this is what you signed up for, y/n. It's now or never!’ You mentally hype yourself up. You keep your mission in mind, make enough money to keep a roof over your head for this month.

Your shaky fingers find the hem of your shirt “F-for you-” you squint reading the username again, “For you, Suga.” You lift the shirt slowly off your body, exposing the curves of your breasts, revealing your red lace bra to your viewers.

The collar of your shirt gets stuck around your head. You feel like an idiot as you try to wrestle the shirt off your body without pulling off your mask.

---

Yoongi snorts at his screen, his lips curving up into a half smile. He sits behind two computer monitors. He watches as you stutter out apologies to your audience, entertained by your clumsiness.

He peers over his shoulder, to where his friends are playing a game of billiards. “Hey, we have a new one!”

“Oh yeah? It’s been awhile since someone joined.” Namjoon puts his pool stick down and walks over to Yoongi to get a closer look. He laughs, “What is she doing? Is this her first time?”

“It is,” Yoongi hums.

“Ah, well now I’m intrigued.” Namjoon pulls out his cell, quickly pulling up the website on his phone.

Yoongi licks his lips, “I think she’s cute.” He watches another hundred dollars add to your total as someone asks for you to remove your shorts. He notices the username and sends a glare to the man standing over his shoulder.

“What? Just trying to move the show along.” Namjoon gives Yoongi’s shoulder a shake. “You never did like sharing.”

“And you never knew how to properly take care of my toys.”

Namjoon laughs. He studies your figure and the way you move back and forth awkwardly on the bed. You’re trying to find the best pose for your request until you finally decide to lie on your back and lift up your hips, pulling your shorts down and off your legs so you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. He leans over Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes level with his monitor to get a better look at you. “She is very cute. I could have a lot of fun with her.”

Yoongi grunts. He watches you press the cups of your bra together to show your cleavage off for him. The chatroom viewer count jumps into 3 digits. You’re so eager to please your audience, he thinks, jumping at the chance to perform the simplest of requests. And he is eager to learn just how far he can push you.

Yoongi types a reply quickly and hits the donate button. He hears his friend let out a low whistle next to him.

---

A thousand dollars?! Someone just donated a thousand dollars. What the hell?

Suga: spread your legs for me. touch yourself.

Your breath hitches. You watch as another wave of viewers are added to the chat, another trickle of donations following. You feel high from their attention, and the money just keeps on rolling in! You've been so worried and stressed since lockdown happened and now you're almost guaranteed to accomplish your goal, finally something is going right, your heart jumps in excitement. It’s starting to feel...fun. You had discarded your embarrassment along with your clothes, thrown somewhere in a heap on the floor. You lean back on your palms and bring your knees together. You can feel the damp cloth of your underwear rub against your core. You’re ashamed to admit how turned on you are. The higher the viewer count goes the wetter you become. You slowly spread your legs to the camera, reveling in the game you're playing with your faceless admirers. Your eyes read over the chat, taking in all their praises of your body. Flattering compliments intermingled with salacious requests pass by the second, it’s overwhelming, and only serves to fuel your arousal.

---

Your sweet voice plays through Yoongi’s speakers, “Thank you Suga.”

“Oh fuck, she’s so wet.” Hoseok pulls up a chair next to Yoongi and Namjoon. They all stare at the screen, at the center of your light pink panties. There is a noticeable dark spot that propels the chatroom into a frenzy.

“Take a look at that view count, it’s one of our highest this month, right?” Namjoon asks Yoongi. He hums in acknowledgement. “They really have nothing better to do now that we’re all stuck in our homes,” Namjoon jeers.

The three men watch silently as your breathing escalates, taking note of how you shake and moan. Hoseok uses the camera on his phone to zoom in on your face scrunched up in pleasure and takes a snapshot.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I’m just showing Jin! She’s his type.” Namjoon laughs. Hoseok cocks his head to the side in confusion while Yoongi scoffs.

Of course you're Jin's type, Yoongi thinks. You're so beautiful and Jin loves to treasure beauty. Jin loves to admire his treasures, taking pleasure in finding the cracks within perfection to break them wider. He's going to have to watch out for Jin.

Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s phones ding with a notification. “Did you have to do that?” Yoongi questions Namjoon, starting to feel annoyed. He pasted a link to your stream to the group chat.

“They are probably already watching. Look,” he points to your view count, soaring into the thousands. The man on his side gives him a dirty look.

---

You place your hands inside your bra and panties, still not comfortable enough to bare it all just yet. You cup your breasts and roll your hips into your palm getting off on the friction. Your soaked panties pull on your hips, stretch against your knuckles, revealing parts of you every once in a while to the camera. How many men had their dicks out right now, how many were falling apart with you? The thought made you clenched down on nothing, covering your hand in your essence. You pull your hand away from your core and put your palm in front of the camera, showing off your wet fingers to your faceless admirers.

---

Taehyung groans. You wiggle your fingers to him, traces of your arousal drip in between, he imagines himself licking each digit clean. He imagines his own long fingers stuffing you instead, pulling sweet moans from your lips, you dripping all over him. Fuck he wants to taste you, he bets you taste so sweet, just divine.

His hands fists his hard erection, his tongue between his teeth as he watches you on his laptop. Each time you cry out in pleasure, he thrusts into his clenched fist, imagining your tight cunt wrapped around him instead. Taehyung almost loses it when you let out a needy whine, imagining all the ways he could make you cry and whimper at his hands. He wishes he had you here so he could taste and smell your body, god if you were here he would make you cum over and over again until you cry and beg him to stop.

---

Someone sends you five hundred dollars, the second largest donation of the night.

V: You’re so beautiful

No request, no lewdness, nothing other than the simple phrase that you didn’t realize how much you ached to hear. Your face goes hot. You let your hand speed up. You try to imagine the words spoken, whispered in your ear, focus on them besides the dings of your laptop and wet sounds coming from your soaking core.

You imagine a man on top of you whispering how beautiful he finds you. You throw your head back lost in pleasure, letting your fantasies overtake you until the heat inside you bursts. You gasp and shudder, forgetting about the camera on you, riding out your high for as long as you can. The fantasy man leaves your thoughts as you come back down to earth, alone again in your room. Finally, you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling of your room. The chatroom dings and dings.

Now that you’ve reached your high, the flames of your arousal abruptly extinguishes, an icy current of mortification at what you’ve done hits you in waves. You sit up shakily, wiping the sweat off your brow. Too scared to look at your reflection, you look down at your keyboard instead, trying to steady your breathing.

“Thank you for coming to my first broadcast. I’m going to log off now.”

Instead of shutting off the stream you hold down the power button of your laptop to turn your entire computer off. You lay back down as your phone vibrates with a notification. The total sum of what you made on your first live stream. You can’t believe it, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. You pull the mask off your face and throw the offending material across the room. As you steady your breathing you push down the regret that creeps over you, thoughts that ring in your ears like a lecture from your mother, feeling shame and disgust at what you allowed yourself to become. Whatever, you did what you had to do.

---

It’s an hour before you have to clock out on your last shift of the week. Your manager pulls you aside to speak with you. There’s concern in his voice and a frown etched on his face, “He is here again.”

“Oh,” you grimace, why is he so early?! “He’s, um, here to pick me up.”

Your manager’s eyes go wide. “You’re going to go somewhere with that psycho?”

“I-I can’t say.”

“If it’s money again I can see about getting you some more hours.” He grabs a clipboard off the back wall, flipping through the schedule.

You wince. “No, it’s just something I have to do and then this should all be over and done with. It will be fine.” Will it be fine? You hope so.

He gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t know, but you nod your head regardless, “Yes.”

“Okay,” He sighs, still looking worried, “I’ll see you Monday?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

---

An hour later you clock out and Yoongi makes his way next to you. You were grateful he didn’t make another scene, he had sat in the corner sipping on coffee, hardly paying attention to you. He didn’t have to, not when he had your store's camera system connected to his phone.

You look him over, Yoongi looks as posh as ever. He wears all black, and tight pants that show off his, well anyways, why does he have to look so good? You huff, staring anywhere else, motioning your arm, “After you.”

The man gives you a wicked smile and offers you his arm. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but reach for his elbow. You felt silly in your dirty work clothes holding onto him. Why did you even bother waking up early today to put on a face full of makeup when you just ended up sweating it off?

"Your manager doesn't seem happy to see me," he teases.

"I wonder why..." you send him a glare.

Of course this motherfucker has a Rolls Royce. You grumble next to him. Yoongi opens the passenger’s door for you and you slide inside. When was the last time someone has done that for you? Tinder culture has really screwed you in more ways than one. You watch as he circles to the other side, he looks so powerful and sexy.

Stop, what's gotten into you?! You push down the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of your stomach. When he starts the car, he leans over to you, invading your space and making you flinch.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes travel down your body, “Unless you want me to.” His face is too close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin as he smirks down at you.

He reaches for the strap of your seat belt, his body now entirely pressed up against yours and he pulls on the strap and buckles it for you. Your face grows hot, it felt like he was teasing you, his presence leaving you as quickly as it came. You swallow down the lump in your throat, wishing you had water for your suddenly dry mouth.

He had smelled good. Manly. It’s been so damn long since you’ve been on a date, under the excuse of social distancing, but really you’ve just stopped trying to go out on boring typical dates with normal boring men so you can have boring vanilla sex. It was a hassle, you had gotten used to the instant gratification from your viewers. But now you had neither. That's why you were so wound up, not because you wanted this smug asshole, no way.

As he reversed, you realize you have to give him your address. You bite your lower lip, thinking what to do. Maybe you can get him to drop you off somewhere close by, but Yoongi is already setting up the GPS with another location.

“Umm, I thought we were going to stop by my house first.”

“Why?”

“So I can change?”

“Not necessary, you can change on the boat. I have clothes for you since I noticed you never cashed my check.” His piercing eyes flash with anger, the accusation making you shift uncomfortably. Cashing Yoongi's check made what was happening feel like a transaction, and you weren't willing to give him that power over you.

“I-I did not agree to get on a boat with you,” you frown, red flags popping up in your head at the thought of being alone in the middle of nowhere, out at sea, with a stranger who says he’ll hurt you if you ask him to.

“You agreed to go to a party with me. That’s how we get to the party, sweetheart.”

Dammit.

---

When Yoongi said boat you didn’t realize he meant yacht. It’s huge. He leads you into the main cabin, there are clothes already laid out for you on the bed.

He shows you how to work the shower before leaving you alone. You know you were washing off the sweat and grime of the day to make yourself presentable for this party of his, but why did you feel like you were cleaning yourself up for Yoongi specifically. It made you feel uneasy. You tried to silence the alarm bells ringing in your head and focus on getting ready. It's just one night out and then you can say goodbye to Yoongi forever.

The dress was black and tight. It hugged your curves and showed off your cleavage. You can admit it was a hot dress and you felt hot in it. It’s exactly the style you like, as if Yoongi had pulled it right out from one of your favorite Pinterest boards. You sigh as you look at yourself in the mirror, the dress came with a set of lingerie that you almost didn’t put on, embarrassed by wearing underwear picked out by a man you knew nothing about. This wasn't like the times you let your viewers choose your outfits for broadcast, this was different...right?

You decide to go all out with makeup, realizing there is no doubt going to be many beautiful people at this party that look as attractive and expensive as Yoongi, so you might as well try to blend in. You put on the finishing touches, a dark red lip, when there’s a knock on the door.

Yoongi walks in, he’s changed too. He's wearing a black button down and black pants, it matches your outfit. Almost all of his fingers are adorned with silver rings. His hair styled in an unkept bedhead way that makes him look younger. You try not to stare or think about how ridiculously handsome he looks.

You look breathtaking, Yoongi thinks, ‘Only one thing missing.’ He pulls out a black choker with a gold pendant from his pocket. “For you, I think it completes the look.” He gives you a genuine smile.

“I-I...Thank you.” you don’t know what else to say. His fingertips graze your collarbones, lighting a trail of fire across your chest. Yoongi clasps the choker around your neck, the pull against your sensitive skin gives you goosebumps. His pointer finger finds its way under your jaw to lift your chin up. “Ready for some fun?” You leave with Yoongi before you have time to inspect his present, notice that on the gold heart pendant there are initials delicately scrawled in the middle. ‘MYG’

---

You enter the party mesmerized. An island. A mansion. A secret paradise. A place where the party never needed to end.

The hall is decorated from top to bottom in gold and crystal, intricate glass centerpieces and art at every corner, but what caught your eye and made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach was an entirely different kind of centerpiece. Around the main room, suspended from the ceiling, gold ropes dropped in a dozen different areas. The most beautiful women you’ve ever seen hung under spotlights, the rope tied in intricate patterns around their naked bodies, each placed in a different position. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as you watched in awe.

Party goers gravitated to them, watching the women as they ate finger food and drank. Yoongi’s breath tickled the back of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “You look like you want to join them,” His dark eyes narrowed on you.

“I’m just admiring the view,” you try to act unaffected by his words, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m hungry,” you whine, changing the subject, you let Yoongi pull you through the crowd.

---

Jungkook grips his wine glass so tight the stem breaks in half, the glass pieces cutting the palm of his hand. He is so full of rage he barely feels the sting, letting the blood drip on his expensive suit. That conniving little man Yoongi has his hands all over your body. How did he have you? Had this been his plan all along? Did Yoongi convince you to leave the site so he could have you all to himself? And you fell into his trap! Jungkook knows it’s not your fault for being manipulated, he knows how devious his business partner can be, but he wants to punish you just the same. He has to tell someone. Taehyung will know what to do! He searches for his friend, before he goes straight to Yoongi and kills him instead.

---

“Min, please introduce us to your date!” The crowd parts as two men advance towards Yoongi. You were just getting used to Yoongi’s cold reserved demeanor when his friends’ beaming playful attitude catch you off guard. The pair is full of energy, they commanded attention, and you could tell by their looks they most certainly were used to being in the center of it.

“You know who she is,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, his hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. What did he mean? Were they-

“But we haven’t formally met! I’m Hoseok, you can call me Hobi.” He winks at you and gives you a bright smile. “This is Jimin!”

‘Jimin.’ That name is familiar to you. No way, this beautiful man is not your Jimin. Not one of your top donators Jimin. No way in hell-

“I’m so happy to have finally met you in person, Dahlia.” Jimin holds your hand in his and brings your fingers to his lips, giving you a small wink. Oh my god he’s attractive. This is the same man who paid you for late night private chats, crying about how lonely he was, he is that Jimin. You’re so astonished you don’t even register the way Yoongi’s fingers dig into your hip in jealousy.

Hoseok and Jimin are fun. The three of you drink another round of sparkling champagne as the duo takes turns telling you wild stories, making you dissolve into a fit of giggles. Yoongi sips on his whisky while he watches the three of you roar with laughter. He doesn’t mind, he uses their charm to his advantage. As expected around the extroverted pair you start feeling more comfortable, you let your guard down around Yoongi, so Yoongi doesn’t mind. You're his date after all, you’re his.

“Looks like everyone made it!” Jimin waves at a trio of men headed towards your group.

“Almost everyone,” Yoongi corrects. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and you lean into him, your body swaying from the alcohol in your system. Yoongi delights in the way the men looked at you in his arms, the visible shock and anger on their faces. “Y/n, this is Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.”

You nod in their direction, barely regarding them, instead giggling at Jimin who is making a funny face at you trying to steal your attention.

“Namjoon says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it, something came up.” Taehyung addresses Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns at the information, it’s not like Joon to change plans so suddenly.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Yoongi begins to take you, but Taehyung’s hand grips Yoongi’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Let the lady go, it’s been so long since we’ve all seen you, Yoongi. I missed my friend. You can make your way, right baby?”

Six heads turn to look at you and you feel hot under their intense stares. “Um, yea-yes, I’ll be right back.” You leave before Yoongi can protest.

---

This place is huge. You can’t remember how you found the bathroom or how to get back to Yoongi, and the room felt like it was spinning. The party had become louder, more obnoxious as drugs and alcohol loosened everyone’s inhibitions.

You shouldn’t have drank so much, you didn’t realize how much alcohol Jimin and Hobi had been feeding you until it was too late, and now you could barely make out people’s faces. What are you going to do? Yoongi had your cell in his pocket, why did you give it to him? Jimin had grabbed it out of your hand to put his contact information in, and handed it back to Yoongi instead. You didn't even protest, you were too busy being mesmerized by Hoseok as he swayed his hips to the music playing, rolling his body to the beat.

You lean against an empty space of wall, between two couples obnoxiously making out. You’re all alone in a strange house with no way to call for help, the gravity of your situation hits you all at once and your head begins to throb.

Maybe if you can make it to the second floor you can spot Yoongi and the others in the crowd. You stumble your way to the stairs, hoping your plan works.

You see Yoongi. The bastard is still drinking his whisky while his friend’s banter amongst themselves. You exhale, finally calming down. The fresh air away from everyone helps to take away your dizziness. You watch the six men, they are all so good looking. They have to be the most attractive men at the party. You didn’t notice how intimidating the group looks, finding it funny how party goers instinctively keep their distance from them.

The three new men are tall and big, they could be models, or maybe athletes, you should have paid attention when Yoongi was introducing you to them. What were their names, Junhyung? Taejung? If Yoongi was a House member, and Jimin was a House member, could they all be...no.

You’re about to turn to leave when hands cover your mouth and grab at your waist. Your scream is completely muffled out behind the stranger’s large hand.

He holds you in a suffocating embrace, covering both your mouth and nose, you realize you really cannot breathe. You try to pry his hand off your face but it’s impossible, he’s too strong and too big, easily overpowering you. The air in your lungs is trapped inside of you as you try to scream. Is this how you die?

“Hey baby.”

‘RM.’ The last time you met him, you had your vision taken, so you could never forget the unmistakable deep rumble of his voice.

Your mind is reeling. You stop fighting against his hold and he finally removes his hand, placing it around your neck instead. You gasp and cough out, inhaling air quickly, afraid your breath will be taken away again.

You guess it made sense, first Jimin now RM, were all the party goers members too? The thought terrified you. You had no idea what your viewers looked like, yet they all knew what you looked like naked. Just how many knew who you were? It made you queasy, you shudder against RM. RM, a top donator, plastered against your back, it felt like a fever dream.

You remember all the times you flirted with him behind the protection of your computer screen, now there were no digital barriers to stop his advances. No house rules to lessen his stifling touches.

“I missed you, baby. I’m a little upset you stayed away for so long, but seeing you here dressed up so pretty, like a present I get to unwrap, I can forgive you.” The hand that held your waist down against him traveled up your stomach, between your breasts, until it settled around your neck as well. “I’m so so glad you came back to us.” His deep velvet voice rumbled in your ear, making your legs tremble.

His strong fingers begin to massage your neck. It feels so good, you bite back a moan. Namjoon rubs deep circles into your shoulder blades. You can’t help but melt into his relaxing massage, your nerves had been wound so tightly before, his expert fingers finding each knotted muscle in your back. You try to sneak a glance behind you, but every time you try, Namjoon’s hands find your jaw, keeping your attention forward.

“How is Yoongi treating you?” RM knows Yoongi? You felt so out of the loop, you tried to make sense of it all but you could only concentrate on the way his fingers pressed against your skin.

“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

“A 'gentleman,'” Namjoon laughs, “Are we talking about the same man?” You roll your head as his fingers work the tense muscles of your neck. His thumb runs underneath your choker, ever so slightly tightening the fabric around your skin. “He was planning to keep you all to himself,” Namjoon tuts.

Anger erupts inside of him as he notices the piece of jewelry, and he pulls you into another crushing embrace, his hands underneath the curves of your breasts. “Now what would he do if he saw you in my arms, hmm?” He makes you walk back to the balcony, hands groping your chest and body pressing you forward into the banister. Truthfully, you’re scared of what Yoongi would do if he saw you, you had no idea what he was capable of, but the pleasure RM was giving you was hard to fight against.

“RM, please...” you don’t know what you’re begging him for, to let you go, to touch you more.

“Look at him.” His voice deepens, his authoritative tone makes you whimper in his arms.

His arms travel to your waist, his fingers pulling at the hem of your dress, lifting it tortuously slow. His fingertips ghost over your lace panties. “Look at how wet you are, dirty girl.” He pulls them down your thighs. If anyone were to look up, they’d see you completely bare. The thought makes you pulse.

Taehyung and Jungkook had come to Namjoon to tell him what Yoongi had done. Namjoon almost felt bad, Yoongi was like a brother to him, so Namjoon knew how much he cared about you. But why would he parade you around in front of the others, like a sweet treat on a platter? Yoongi surely knew them all well enough to know they'd want to take a bite.

“Now keep your eyes on Yoongi, what is he doing right now?”

You start to speak and Namjoon pushes two fingers inside you, all the way in to his knuckles. You let out a gasp, and he pinches the sensitive skin of breast through your dress. “Answer daddy, baby girl.��

You fight back tears, your mouth goes dry as you try to hold yourself together. “H-he’s talking to Hobi.” Namjoon inserts another finger into you at the nickname you use for his friend, the stretch is bordering on painful, making you cry out. You try to stifle your whimpers, it just turns Namjoon on even more. He grinds his erection into your ass. His smell, his dirty words, his roughness, you've forgotten how much you craved it.

“Hobi, is it? When did you and him become so friendly? Baby, you’re making me jealous. Is that what you want?” With three fingers inside you, he sets a punishing pace. It’s been awhile since you’ve felt so full. Perhaps the last time you truly felt like this was by RM himself. You pulse around his fingers at the memory. Your legs shake as his thumb finds your clit, pressing into your sensitive hood. “P-please…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.

“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.

---

Oh my so many questions, not many answers. Will you see your manager on Monday? Lol thank you again for enjoying my story, let me know what you think! <3

713 notes · View notes

matbaerzal · 3 years

Text

Like This Pt.1 | T. Jost

Summary: Tyson is the best roommate you could ask for, you can't imagine ever living with someone else... no- no not like that, your relationship is purely platonic! > (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) A/N: First fic of the year hafsjkhf.... The reader studies Special Education, which will play a small part throughout this fic. Warnings: A short mention of sexual dreams Reader pronouns: she/her Words: 2,4K Tagging: @konecny-s @vitekvanecek @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @ricohenrique @notaccurateornice @tysojost @justjosty ... lmk if you want to be tagged ❤️

As you reach the door to your apartment you shift your second grocery bag into your left hand before fishing your keys out of your pocket. You hurry to turn the key in your lock as your arms are tired from the heavy weight of the amount of food you’d bought. You huff out as you open the door, absent-mindedly throwing the keys on the side table as you set the groceries down on the floor.

“I’m sorry, can you give me a minute?” you hear Tyson speak as you take off your coat and shoes. In the corner of your eye, you see him put his phone down before pushing his chair back, standing up, and walking over.

“Hey, how was work?”

You huff out a breath in reply, and when you see him grab the groceries you almost try to object, but relief washes over you before you can. You follow him to the kitchen with the intent to sort the food so he can get back to what he was doing, but he brushes you away.

“Go sit down - relax” he gives you a pointed look.

“Thanks” you smile, hesitantly making your way to the couch.

“You hungry?” he speaks over his shoulder as you sit down.

“Very” your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

“I made some dinner earlier, want me to heat it up for you?”

“Don’t you have an interview” you shout back.

“Eh, they can wait” he shrugs

Without waiting for you to reply he takes out the tupperware from the fridge before putting it in the microwave. Once it’s heated up he brings it over to you, along with a glass of water before he gets back to his interview, apologizing profusely to the journalist on the other end of the call for keeping them waiting.

Living with Tyson had its ups and downs, but all in all the two of you fit together well as roommates. You’d met him during his first year in Colorado, back then you were living on campus. You’d planned to move in with a friend of yours, but after she graduated she got a job offer in another state and decided to move, leaving you practically homeless as there was no way you’d be able to afford to live on your own at the time - and there was no chance that you were ever moving in with your dorm room roommate again. Tyson offered for you to stay with him for at least a little bit until you figured things out. Then he realized he really liked having you around. You’d hesitated, thinking he was just trying to be nice, before he practically begged you to stay.

Hundreds of comments from friends asking if you’re dating or having sex later, you’re still living with him - not dating, not having sex, never even having kissed, and neither of you wanted to cross that line. With the way you and Tyson clicked, there were a lot of people who had trouble believing you were just friends, but at this point, you felt like you knew each other too well. All your dirty laundry had been aired out between the two of you - both literally and figuratively. The smell of his week-old workout sweat in the laundry room was enough to put you off. It wouldn’t be fair to say it hadn’t crossed your mind though. Objectively he is very attractive - you can’t deny that - perhaps, maybe your mind traveled places as he walked out of the bathroom after a shower with only a towel wrapped around him. You knew for a fact that he’d thought about you too, having drunkenly admitted to you that he had a dream about you once - which explained that one morning where he wouldn’t meet your eye and couldn’t have gotten out of the door quicker.

But neither of you ever acted on your attraction, it was pushed into the back of your minds - ignored completely. Because that’s all it was, an attraction, and nothing more.

You watch him as he continues his interview, zoning out as you eat your food. You hear every tone of his voice, completely focused on him but at the same time not registering a single thing he’s saying. It’s only when he looks over at you that you’re shaken out of it.

“Is it alright?” he whispers, covering the microphone.

You shake your head as you're brought back to the real world, it takes your brain a few seconds to catch what he said and your cheeks feel warm as he chuckles - “Hm?”

“The food? Is it alright?”

“Mm, yeah” you take another bite, resting the fork in the food container as you reach for the TV remote to distract yourself.

You’d been swamped with work lately, between your studies and your part-time job as a teaching assistant, you barely had time to take a breather. Your third year studying Special Education at the University of Denver was hectic, any time not spent at work or on campus or studying at home was spent either eating or sleeping in your bed. Tyson could see how tired you were whenever you came home, he always cooked a little extra for his dinner so you wouldn’t go to bed without eating first. His mediocre pasta meals always tasted like heaven after the long days you had.

By the time Tyson plops down on the couch you’re finished eating and zoned out on an episode of New Girl.

“Do you have any plans on Sunday?” he asks and you shake your head - “just studying, writing”.

“Wanna come to the game? I completely get it if you just want to stay in-”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to” you perk up, you hadn’t been to a game in who knows how long and you’d put aside your assignments at least for a little while if Tyson ever asked you to. He never had to ask before, you’d come whenever you had time, but it’d been seven weeks now - Tyson kept count.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Tys, really” you pat his thigh - keeping your hand there a touch longer before removing it when you meet his soft eyes.

You wake up late on Sunday, head stuck to the pillow, body hesitant to leave the bed. You’d already woken up once and decided to sleep longer so you force yourself out of bed, put some clothes on and go to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal. Just as you get the milk from the fridge your apartment door opens, signaling that Tyson’s home from his morning skate.

“Good morning” he smirks at you, his eyes running over your thrown-together outfit and noting the remnant of sleep in your eyes.

You nod, trying to speak through the mouthful you just took, making Tyson squint his eyes in a laugh. He waits patiently for you to finish so you can repeat your question to him - “how was the skate?”

“It was alright, easily gonna have a nap after I eat though”

“Want some cereal?” you arch your brow. He stops and thinks for a second, contemplating if he should say yes, or make his usual scrambled eggs - “you know what? Yeah” he decides. You raise your brows at him, about to make a comment but he interrupts you. “Yeah, yeah pour me a bowl before I change my mind”.

You hold your hands up - “wasn’t gonna say anything” you try, but he doesn’t look convinced. You rush to get him a bowl and a spoon, setting them down for him, pouring in some cereal as he comes over to sit next to you on your kitchen island. He pours the milk himself before lifting the bowl to clink against yours, muttering “cheers” before taking a spoonful into his mouth.

You sit in comfortable silence as you eat your food, moving around each other as you put the bowls in the sink to worry about later. You walk to the couch and open your laptop to get some work done before you have to get ready for the game.

“Do you ever take a break?” Tyson yawns, laying down on the couch next to you, his head landing on a pillow close by your thighs.

You figure his questions rhetorical, but his eyes stay on you as you start typing away on your essay. “I’m taking a break later, y’know, at the game”

“No, I mean like a real break, like flat out on the couch, books closed-”

“You’re funny”

“I’m serious”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for breaks Tys”

He goes quiet after that, a thoughtful look on his face as he settles into the couch, your eyes linger on him for a moment before you go back to writing your essay. It doesn’t take long for his breath to get heavy, the small snores escaping him making you smile. As you skim through an article you might use for your essay your free hand finds his hair - his curls too soft to resist running your hand through. His snoring stops as your hand first makes contact making you freeze, but he’s nuzzling into the pillow and snoring again before you know it.

Even after you’ve read the article your hand stays in his hair and you do your best to type with one hand, only opting to use your right hand when absolutely necessary. You were in tweaking stages so luckily you could keep one hand planted in his hair most of the time. You’re checking the clock here and there, knowing he didn’t set an alarm and that he didn’t like napping too long on game days, but just as you’re about to wake him he leans into your touch, eyes slowly blinking open as he hums, absentmindedly you brush his hair away from his forehead - “sleep well?”

“Like a baby” he smiles, “what time is it?”

“uh, two-thirty” you glance over at the little clock on your computer.

He leans into your hand one more time as if to savor the feel before he starts to get up, once on his feet he stretches his arms above his head, you can’t help but look as his t-shirt lifts to reveal his stomach, but you avert your eyes quickly and hope he doesn’t notice. If he did, he doesn’t comment, “want me to make dinner for you too?” he throws the words your way over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen. “What’s on the menu?” you tease, fully well knowing the answer, even saying it with him once he replies - “chicken and pasta”.

You turn your head to look at him, and he can’t bring himself to be annoyed at you when you smirk at him.

“Yeah, yeah” he brushes you off - “do you want some or no?”

“Yes, please” you smile.

He quickly makes the food, the recipe burned into his brain from making it time after time. He puts a little extra cheese on your plate, coming over to the couch with both plates once he’s done. You close your computer, place it to the side, and take the plate he hands to you with ease. Once your plates are scraped it’s time for Tyson to get ready, change into his suit and leave for the arena.

He walks out of his room wearing one of his three-piece suits and if you didn’t have the restraint you’d built up over the time you’d lived with him you’re sure you would’ve drooled at the sight. You’d think he was doing it on purpose, but you’d never let your weakness for the vest-jacket pairing slip, and he looks oblivious as he meets your eyes. The little spin he does for you does nothing to help and you have to give yourself credit for being so collected when he raises his brows as if to ask: “Is this alright?”.

“Looking good, Tys. I’ll see you after the game” you get off the couch as you speak and give him a quick hug, his phone pinging with a message signaling that JT is waiting for him downstairs as you break away.

“See you later,” he says.

“Kick some Dallas butt.”

He laughs as he walks through the door leaving you to yourself. You don’t wait long until you start getting ready yourself, not being able to focus on your writing with the anticipation of the game in the back of your mind. You put your lucky Avalance hoodie on, grabbing your coat before leaving with more than enough time to catch the warm-ups. There’s a couple of familiar faces there when you arrive. You’d met the players’ girlfriends a few times, mostly in this exact setting and you fell right back into the group again. You felt for them, having to watch their boyfriends play such an unpredictable sport. You guess you could imagine how it felt at least a little, living with Tyson and all, but the energy they brought to every game was admirable.

The game was tight, the boys fell behind in the first period but in the second and third they were no doubt the better team, but the puck just wouldn’t go in the net. With ten minutes left they manage to tie it and with 5 minutes left Tyson takes a tripping penalty. They killed the penalty and scored not long after to secure the win, but you could see Tyson beating himself up over the penalty that could’ve cost them the game. The look on his face as he sat in the penalty box is something you keep in the back of your mind as you leave with the girls to meet him.

He’s one of the first ones to come out of the locker rooms, head hanging low. Gabe pats him on the shoulder before he greets his wife, Tyson throws a forced smile towards his captain that seems genuine to anyone that doesn’t know him the way you do. The smile reaches his eyes once he sees you though and he drapes his arm over your shoulder when he reaches you, leading you towards the garage - “Let’s go home”

To be continued...

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #nhl imagine #op:w #nhl fic

265 notes · View notes

ticketstomydaydreams · 3 years

Text

5:3666

(All We Have: Part Two)

Part One

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson fall into a night time studio routine when he starts keeping you company through your insomnia and you decide to work though some past demons

Word count: 3,200 (ish, I lost count editing)

Feels: Fluff with a dash of past trauma

Warnings: Drug & alcohol consumption, domestic violence, cursing, Colson being so sweet it almost makes your teeth hurt

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - 5:3666

Warren Zevon - I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

The Vamps - All Night

Halsey - You Should Be Sad

A/N: If you've been affected by anything in this story, please know you're not alone. My inbox is always open and I'm all ears 🖤

______

During the first couple of weeks of moving in, you’d been partying A LOT. The guys wanted to show you just how mad it got, breaking you into their chaotic household, blending the days together. Everyone was hyper and the house was buzzing with energy. You'd been so exhausted from all of it that you'd been all but passing out each night, but you couldn’t lie, it was great fun.

You’d tried to pass on a few nights but Colson would never hear of it, often forcing you out of your room to get involved as the house was filled with people, jam sessions taking place in between drinking games. It was a far cry from your usual homelife, your last housemate mainly kept to themselves so your place was normally pretty chilled. Colson had used your place as a quiet escape over the years, but it seemed you wouldn’t have the same set up extended to you here with this lot.

With the pandemic unfolding, the house had started getting quieter, less people in and out every night and everyone was settling into a lazier way of life. The gang were mooching around the house throughout the day and while the house was still lively at night, it wasn’t quite the party central you’d almost started getting used to. Your normal working routine went out the window as everyone had started working from home mainly and without your daily routine, followed by nights out partying, your insomnia was back with full force.

______

You were lying in your bed, trying to force sleep on yourself but after trying to nod off for a couple of hours, you accepted defeat and got back up. Throwing some sweats on and one of Colson’s huge hoodies (you’d been slowly sneaking them out of his closet, finding that the masses of material drowning your small frame were super comforting), you headed down to the kitchen, turned the stove on and filled the kettle up. You were scrolling through your phone when you heard footsteps on the tiled floor. Colson strolled into the kitchen looking disheveled in a white tank top and boxer shorts, hair ruffled and looking sleepy

“Dude, it’s 3am how come you’re up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, living that oh so fun insomnia life again” you sighed “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, I was already awake. Couldn’t sleep either and heard someone moving about so thought I’d come down” He replied, climbing onto one of the breakfast stools

“Yeah, I think it’s not having much of a routine. Hate lying in bed staring at the ceiling so just got up. You want a cup?” you offered, pointing to the chamomile tea you were brewing

“Sure, thanks” he says, taking the steaming mug from you

You sit down at the breakfast bar with him and start chatting, scrolling through instagram as you do. After about an hour, as you’re talking about an article you’re reading, you notice Colson doesn’t respond and you look to your right and see he’s fallen asleep, leaning on his hand, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” you whisper, rubbing his back with your hand “Go to bed”

He slightly jolts at your touch, opening his eyes “Nah man, I’m keeping you company”

“Some company” you laugh softly “pretty sure you just slept through all my rambling there”

He leans against your shoulder, closing his eyes again “Hey, at least you’re not sitting here alone. That’s something right?”

“That’s true” you smile, leaning your head against his “You’re very appreciated, do you know that”

You gently push him upright and stand up “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m pretty tired myself, so you’ve definitely helped”

He’s laid his head down on his arm on the counter, his breathing getting heavy immediately so you pull his other hand making him stand up. He stands up and puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs, your legs feeling heavy as you climb each step, carrying some of Colson’s weight as he sleepily walks with you

Once you’re standing outside your bedroom doors, he pulls you in for a hug

“Night kid, don’t be wandering around bored if you can’t sleep yeah? Just come get me. Nothing worse than sitting up alone at night…”

“Will do. Thanks Col” You squeeze him a bit tighter as he kisses the top of your head

“Night” you smile, as he let’s you go and turns and heads into his room, waving his hand up behind him

Undressing and crawling into bed, your eyes feel heavy as your head hits the pillow. Colson was right, insomnia was a much less lonely experience with a friend.

______

Of course, as is always the way after your sleepless nights, you sleep in super late the following day meaning the cycle continues and you find yourself wide awake as the witching hour approaches. Feeling restless in your bedroom, you get up, and decide to head downstairs and out into the studio because you figure you might as well put this time to good use. You settle into a chair with your acoustic guitar and started playing, stopping and starting as you figure out a melody, working your latest lyrics in with it

“I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest. Got no anger, got no malice…”

“I thought I told you to come get me if you couldn’t sleep”

You almost drop your guitar as you hear Colson’s voice behind you, “Jesus, how are you such an enormous human but you still manage to creep up on me all the time?”

“Just a stealthy motherfucker I guess” He laughs, flopping into the chair next to you

“Whatcha working on? That sounded sweet, keep playing…”

Colson knows you sometimes get a bit self-conscious with people watching you sing, so he lights his joint, rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes. You smile as you see what he's doing, thankful he always understands what you're like.

You turn back to your notepad, reading over your lyric outline quickly before repositioning the guitar in your lap and resetting the metronome

___

‘I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest

Got no anger, got no malice, Just a little bit of regret

No, nobody else will tell you, so there's some things I gotta say

Gonna jot it down and then get it out and then I'll be on my way

No, you're not half the man you think that you are

And you can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs, and cars

I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you

'Cause you can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you

Oh, I feel so sorry, I feel so sad

I tried to help you, it just made you mad

And I had no warning about who you are

I'm just glad I made it out without breaking down

And then ran so fuckin' far, that you would never ever touch me again

Won't see your alligator tears

'Cause, no, I've had enough of them’

___

“Man, that was beautiful Y/N. I got some chills right there…You just wrote that?”

“Nah, it’s something I dug up from ‘back then’. Been going through some old lyrics and samples while we’ve got all this time on our hands. It’s kinda cathartic to go over some of that stuff now there’s a bit more distance you know”

______

A couple of years ago, you’d been stuck in a really toxic relationship with your ex, Stevie. Your time with him had been a tornado of arguments, drugs and the constant heartache of him cheating on you. Every time you’d get close to having the strength to leave, you’d always cave in and the mess would continue with you losing a bit of yourself each time you stayed. You’d become pretty used to his violent outbursts, he had always been controlling and short tempered, often pushing you and throwing stuff around your apartment. Despite his own frequent infidelity, he flew into a jealous rage with you constantly.

He’d always hated Colson, despite him being one of your best friends, and while he’d play nice to his face you’d always get it in the neck once you were alone about how you and Colson were ‘too close’ and he ‘didn’t trust him’. Before that final night you’d spent with him, things had been pretty good with the two of you for a few weeks, there hadn’t been much drama and so you hadn’t thought too much of inviting him out with you and the gang for a night out clubbing. Your good run had clearly come to an end, when you felt his hand grab your arm tightly and drag you off the dancefloor where you’d been dancing with Colson. You’d been bundled into an uber so quickly, you hadn’t even managed to get your handbag from inside. You saw Colson running out of the club, followed by Rook and Slim who was holding your bag, as the cab pulled away.

Once you were back at the apartment, he flew into a rage. You’d never seen him this bad before, his eyes were dark and when you tried to argue back, calling his jealousy ‘pathetic’ he snapped. He’d grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall, “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again” he’d spat in your face, before striking you so hard with his fist that the skin across your cheek split open. It was as if his actions had knocked him back to reality, he’d let go of you and you ran to your bedroom, locked the door behind you and started packing a bag. He hammered on the door, begging you to open it and you could hear that he was crying. You looked around for your phone before you remembered you’d left it at the club. Desperate to get away, you opened your laptop and brought up instagram, managing to send Colson a message asking him to send you an uber to his house straight away. You’d thrown your laptop and a few more bits in your bag, the battery dying before you had a chance to wait for a reply, before pulling the bedroom door open and barging past Stevie. He’d tried to grab you, but you’d finally had enough “Never fucking touch me again” you spat, pushing him off you. The hatred in your voice rooted him to the spot and he said nothing as you walked out, the door slamming behind you.

Once you were outside the apartment building, the reality of what had just happened and the situation you were in started to wash over you. You had no phone, no wallet, your laptop was dead. Just as you were starting to seriously panic, an uber pulled up and Colson had leapt out of the backseat. You’d been in total shock and had just let Colson guide you into the cab and then out into his house, up to his room. He didn’t say anything as he led you to his bathroom and lifted you up onto the counter. He grabbed a flannel and soaked it with warm water, rinsing it out before pressing it softly against the cut on your cheek, gently wiping away the blood that had mixed with your mascara laced tears. The tenderness of his actions was almost too much and you started to sob again.

“Hey, hey. Y/N, look at me” he said softly, lifting your chin so you looked at him, his blue eyes misty themselves “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Don’t move, I’ll be back in a sec”

He left the bathroom and returned with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Putting them on the counter next to you, he crouched down and undid the straps on your heels, slipping them off your feet and then helping you down from the counter. “I’ll leave you to change”

When you came out of the bathroom, Colson was lying in his bed “Come here” he said, holding his arm and beckoning into his side. You crawled under the covers next to him and snuggled into him, his long arms wrapping around you.

“Col…” you said quietly

“Yeah?” he whispered back, stroking your hair off your forehead

“Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve always got you Y/N”

______

“I hated that fucking guy. That night...I wanted to kill him after what he’d done to you”

You see him tense up at the memory and you lean over and squeeze his knee “You’re such an amazing friend, do you know that. I don’t know what I would’ve done that night without you”

"You're a fucking warrior Y/N, you'd have handled your shit. I was just happy you trusted me enough to let me be there for you. You deserve so much better than that" he says, covering the hand you'd placed on his knee with his, staring you in the eyes and returning the smile that's crept across your face

"You know there's been a few punches I've wanted to dole out on behalf of you over the years, but you've never let me" you tell him

"Too right I'd never let you. I never want you in the drama, you're too good for getting caught up in that shit" he replies, pointing at you with mock sternness

"Hey" he says, seeing your expression wash over with a tint of sadness "At least the sleepless nights aren't what they were then…

… If we're gonna work through some old demons this lockdown, I'm sure I've got some songs and lyrics that have never seen the light of day" He reaches over the desk and pulls his laptop towards him "You've inspired me… "

"Oh no, are we gonna fuck our heads up with this?" you joke nervously, worrying that Colson's going to delve into something that's going to upset him

"Nah, I got you covered and you got me, right?"

"True dat" you say, as he holds his fist out so you can fistbump, his eyes now focused on his laptop screen

______

You felt kinda bad, having kept Colson up all night with you the last two nights, especially as you'd got him reminiscing about some tough memories, so tonight you tried to sneak past his room when your restlessness got the better of you.

"Nice try kid!" Colson says as he throws his bedroom door open, causing you to yelp in fright. standing there topless with his sweatpants hung low in his hips, he lights the joint hanging from his mouth "I told you we were in this together now"

"I felt bad, making you stay up with me"

"You didn't make me do shit…Wait a sec, let me find a hoodie. If I have any left in here…" he says, giving a pointed look towards the huge blue hoodie you were wrapped in before walking back into his room and rummaging through his drawers

"Oh shush, you have like a hundred…"

"Right come on" he says, pulling a pink hoodie over his head and flipping the hood up over his messy hair "Let's see what we get into tonight…"

______

And so the nights went on like this, the two of you falling into an easygoing studio routine. If there wasn't anything else going on in the house, you'd eat dinner together then head to the studio and work through the night into the small hours, skipping out the pretense of trying to sleep. You were both pretty productive at this time it seemed, both being proclaimed night owls, and keeping busy during these uncertain times was keeping your minds off the unfolding pandemic.

Considering he’d referred to his home studio in the past as the ‘rage cage’ (and it certainly could still be party central when the entire crew got involved), it was actually a place you drifted towards to relax these days. You’d always worked well together in a studio, but over the weeks spending so much time just the two of you, you became more in tune with each other, noticing when one of you had hit a wall and it was time for bed. Sometimes you'd work in comfortable silence, side by side, engrossed in your own seperate tasks. Sometimes barely any work would get done as you put the world to rights talking about anything and everything in a late night impromptu therapy session.

This evening, you'd been sitting cross legged in your chair for hours now, focusing so hard on editing a song which was driving you mad, you hadn't realised your feet had gone numb. As you try to move, your knees crack and pins and needles shoot through your legs. Colson looks up from the screen he'd been engrossed in after hearing you groan and sees you rubbing your feet trying to bring back the feeling to them

‘C’mere’ he said, before turning his chair towards you and leaning down to grab your legs, bringing your feet up onto his lap. He pulls your socks off and begins massaging your feet. You lean your head back, eyes closed and let out a long ‘hmmm’. You don’t see Colson glancing over at you and shifting in his seat as he lets out slow breath before turning back to his screen

“Now this is the kind of work session I could get used to”, you sighed "You being my studio bitch on hand for foot rubs. Although, I imagine this enjoyment goes both ways Mr Foot Lover” you tease, throwing him an exaggerated wink

Colson throws his head back with a hearty chuckle, and light heartedly slaps your calf

"Keep it in your pants Y/N"

You laugh and wiggle your toes, Colson letting out a dramatic, throaty groan in response. "Those are some sexy little toes though" he states, sticking his tongue out.

Still laughing, you put your hand to your chest, and gasp as you feign prudishness and try to pull your feet away. He grabs both your feet in one of his hands, keeping them in place then leans over the desk and pulls your laptop towards you

"Get on with some work you, this is supposed to be keeping you motivated, not distracted"

He scolds affectionately, with a smile on his face

“Okay, okay, spoilsport” you grumble as you pull your computer onto your lap

Half an hour passes, your legs still on Colson’s lap with him still massaging your feet absentmindedly with one hand while he works, and your eyes begin to feel heavy. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep, until you’re awoken by a “woah” from Colson as he catches your laptop which is about to fall. Taking it from your lap, he states “Right, time for bed you”

You check your phone and see it’s already 5:36am.

You stand up and stretch then walk over behind Colson, putting your arms around his shoulders, and resting your chin on his head. Looking at his screen, you yawn “You got much left to do?”

He leans back into you, bringing his hand up to rest on your arm, “Making some good progress so just gonna finish a couple of bits”

“Okay dude” you gently kiss the top of his head and squeeze the back of his neck a couple of times as you turn to leave “Try and get some rest, we’ve got a long day of sweet fuck all to do tomorrow” you say through another big yawn

“Heh yeah, Night Kid” he says softly, letting out a yawn himself. Colson turns and watches you head out of the studio and lets out a big sigh. Feeling the back of his neck still tingle from where you’d squeezed it, he’s suddenly aware of how empty the room feels without you in it....

______

Taglist: @triplexdoublex @thisshitisfuckingdifficult @brightblaqkkheaven

Lace Up! ❌❌

#colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #mgk fluff #mgk smut #Colson Baker #colson baker smut #Mgk #machine gun kelly #mgk fanfiction #Mgk fic #Colson fic #Colson imagine

305 notes · View notes

2jaehs · 3 years

Text

ETHICS l QIAN KUN

genre: smut, daddy!

warning: Dilf!Kun, profressor!Kun, Student!Reader, semi-public, semi-cheating, cursing, alcohol

word count: 5,6k

Your new ethics professor may not be as good as the subject he is teaching.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a chilly evening and your parents were hosting a couple of friends from work for dinner. Your mother, a professor at your university, was always ready to break in a new lecturer especially if it meant it would benefit you in any way.

The professor who was invited was soon to be your new ethics lecturer for the second semester, all you knew of him was that he too had a kid at the university and your mother was hoping you’d get along with them.

“Did you find out who’s Mr Qian’s kid yet?” Your mother sipped her tea as she hovered over your desk, scrunching her nose at your Facebook page.

“No mom, you know people my age don’t use Facebook” you groaned and clicked the university page to find the tagged alumni. After a few clicks you noticed the new lecturer had been added and with another click you were on his Facebook page.

“God he is handsome isn’t he ?” Your mom marveled and you shook your head, “you have a husband you know” Your mom let out a laugh and playfully slapped you on your shoulder, “I’m not like that, plus the man teaches ethics he’d be horrified if I was trying anything.”

You shrugged and scanned the professors page until you noticed a post with a familiar looking boy. The two of them stood next to a brand new car and the caption read ‘congrats on the new wheels son.’

“This is.....Minghao, he’s a year below me” you pressed your lips together and looked up at your mother, “he’s pretty chilled I’m sure it will go fine.”

Your mother let out a sigh of relief and patted your back, “okay good so you’ll be able to keep him company tonight then, Hey maybe Mr Qian will give you special treatment after tonight.”

You wished your mom knew how accurate her guess was in the weeks to come.

————————————————————————

You slipped into a comfortable long floral dress and did a light make up look before creeping out of your bedroom to greet your mother’s guests.

“Ah there’s my princess” your dad bellowed to the guests who looked up at you as you made your way downstairs, already wishing you could hide away from your dad’s embarrassing words.

“Hi I’m y/n” you greeted, shaking everyone’s hands. There was a woman in her late 40s and Minghao the boy you had seen around your department from time to time.

“My dads just getting the wine from our cab” Minghao scratched the back of his head nervously as he took a seat across from his mother at the dinner table.

You slipped into the seat next to him, your mother mouthing a thank you for your bare minimum efforts and placed the last cooked dish on the table in front of you.

“I almost thought you were drinking all of that on your own” your dad chuckled as a man shimmied through the door holding two bottles of wine. You felt your heartbeat race when he came into full view, possibly the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on. Mr Qian had a wide friendly smile spread across his face as he sat the wine down on the kitchen counter and removed his coat, revealing his extremely toned arms stretching the fabric of his white buttoned shirt.

“Oh you must be y/n” he ran his fingers through his hair and took a seat at the head of the table, in between you and his wife.

“Eh yeah it’s nice to meet you Mr Qian” you smiled politely, trying to keep your eyes off his pouty lips.

You couldn’t believe you were checking out your lecturer right now, in the presence of his wife and son for fucksakes. But he was so unbelievably gorgeous, the way his ash blonde hair was styled framed his face perfectly, and his soft eyes bore into yours as he spoke.

“Please call me Kun” he chuckled sweetly, “unless I’m teaching you then we can switch back to the formalities.”

You nodded and he shot you another friendly smile before your dad began pouring everyone a glass of wine.

You and Minghao zoned out as your mother began talking about the university and let Kun know the basics, from campus etiquette to where he can buy the best coffee.

“Well I’m looking forward to everything” Kun raised his glass to your mother and downed the last bit of it.

“Y/n darling sort the dishes out will you ? We’re going to head to the patio for more drinks” your mother called. All you wanted to do was return to your room, but after letting out a groan you did as you were told.

You scrubbed the dishes as you noticed Minghao was entertaining himself with a game on his phone in the living room. He wasn’t much of a talker and you were grateful for that, you really weren’t in the mood to be sociable with a stranger.

“Sorry to disturb but where is the wine opener ?”

You jumped at the sudden voice and the next thing you knew the leftover suds from your gloves were on Kun’s shirt.

“Shit- I mean sorry I’m sorry” you tore off your gloves and grabbed a paper towel ready to clean up your mess.

“It’s okay y/n” he chuckled and took hold of your wrist as you looked up at him, “it’s just a little water.”

Kun smiled down at you sweetly but you noticed a hint of curiosity in his eyes as you stood still under his touch, not bothered to move under the sudden contact.

“A-are you sure it’s okay?” You asked in a small voice still looking up at him and unconsciously bit down on your lip as your eyes drifted to his plump ones for the 4th time that night.

Kun cocked his head to the side, slowly let go of your wrist, and wet his bottom lip with his tongue before taking a step back,

“Can I have that wine opener y/n ?” He asked in a low tone.

“Oh right” you pulled open a drawer and retrieved the item, handing it to Kun who grazed his fingers against yours as he received it.

“Thank you.”

————————————————————————

You were in your bedroom reliving that moment over and over again. You were not delusional right ? There definitely was a little tension between you and Mr Qian and you had no idea why.

Did he sense that you were attracted to him ? He probably thought you were awful for even making it known to him since he was married. He taught ethics for heaven's sake, he probably thought you were a horrible person.

Sighing, you turned on your stomach and listened to the voices coming from the patio downstairs. You heard your dad pretty clearly, he was loud but when drunk even louder.

“Y/n is a good student but her mind wanders a lot”

“It’s true, she’s just like her dad”

“Hey!”

You groaned at the sound of your parents yapping and hearing Kun and his wife laugh along only made things worse. How the hell were you going to get through a whole semester of ethics with Mr Qian when he’s already met your insane family ?

A few minutes had passed and you heard a knock on your door. Before you could respond your mother flung open your door and you noticed Mr Qian was lingering right behind her.

Great.

“Sweetheart do you mind giving Kun your notes and essays from last semester” she hiccuped as Kun chuckled softly at her antics.

“Mom I -“

“It’s okay” Kun raised his hands, “you can bring it to me on Monday”

“Nonsense you’re here right now” you mom silenced him, “oh I’ll also fetch the old schedule just so you have an idea of what it all looks like.”

Your mom disappeared down the hall to her study and you expected Mr Qian to follow her but instead he leaned against your doorframe and watched you.

“I didn’t save much...so”

“I thought you were a good student y/n” Kun teased, his dimple showing as he grinned.

You rummaged through your drawers, “I am a good student” you pulled out your old ethics file and got to your feet,

“Not all the time though.”

Kun raised his eyebrow at your words and received the file from you before checking the hallway for your tipsy mother.

“Oh I’ve noticed” he said lowly, his eyes looked around your bedroom then met your stare, “I just hope you will pay attention in my class Miss y/l/n”

“I’ll try my best sir” you responded, chewing on your bottom lip before your mother reappeared and dragged Kun back downstairs.

Kun turned back to get one last look at you. He was taken back that you were still staring at him, those barely innocent eyes enticed him and the way your lips were caught between your teeth made him-

“My daughter is ecstatic for the new semester. Please look after her,” your mother said, handing the last of her notes to Kun.

Kun nodded and thanked her before collecting his family and headed to their cab outside. He pondered on her words and looked over at his wife, “sweet family aren’t they ?”

————————————————————————

It was another chilly winter morning and you were making your way over to your 8am ethics lecture with your best friend Xiaojun. “Dami said the new ethics lecturer is hot as hell” Xiaojun sipped his coffee as you two turned into the corridor, avoiding the lingering students,

“He came to my house over the weekend, he's pretty handsome yeah” you said, feeling butterflies in your stomach just talking about him. Xiaojun was about to speak until the two of you heard a low voice from behind you,

“Good morning you two” Mr Qian greeted with a cheeky smile and slipped into the classroom with his briefcase and coffee.

“Shit do you think he heard me ? shit shit shit” you cursed under your breath as Xiaojun pulled you into the front row of seats. The classroom began filling up and almost every person who walked in did a double take at Kun, it could've been his newness or the fact that he was now the best looking professor in this department.

“Why are we sitting upfront ? this feels weird” you whispered to Xiaojun.

“I want him to think that we pay attention” Xiaojun nudged you as the two of you watched Mr Qian remove his blazer and fold up his dress shirt sleeves. Your breathing hitched as you monitored his veiny arms while he navigated his laptop, thinking back to when he had his hand around your wrist and looked down at you with his almond eyes.

“Hello everyone, I'm Professor Qian, you can refer to me as Mr Qian or...sir” his eyes dropped to you on the last word as if it were reserved just for you.

You couldn't concentrate at all on the lecture and it wasn't due to Xiaojun talking his head off. Every movement Kun made had you adjusting your seating position and every glance had you adjusting your hair or wetting your lips. Every damn second you had to remind yourself that he was married and you were his student, an ethics student. But you couldn't help but wonder if what you were feeling was being reciprocated. You concluded that he was either oblivious and naturally charming or he was toying with you. Either way you looked at it, you knew you were like putty in his hands.

“I hope everyone has a good day and don't forget tomorrow I’ll be doing a short quiz in order to check your process” Mr Qian smiled sweetly and took a seat at his desk, waving off the first student's to leave his room.

You gathered your books and began making your way out when Mr Qian cleared his throat, “y/n can I see you for a bit?” Xiaojun nudged you and winked which only made your face redder than it already was. Spinning on your heels you pressed your lips together and made your way over to his desk.

“Y-yes Mr Qian ?”

“Please take a seat” He smiled and waited until the last person exited the room and shut the door. You returned to your original seat and a nervous feeling overcame you when you realized you were now alone with him.

“I just wanted to return some of the notes you gave me” He began pacing in front of you with his hands stuffed into his pocket, “and I just wanted to check if you were paying attention today”

“I did, I mean I usually go over the slides again later” you bit down on your lip. The chirpy tone of your voice made you cringe, why did you want him to think so highly of you ? that you were a good girl, not slacking off.

Kun nodded and pressed his lips together before retrieving your notes from his desk and handed it to you. You swallowed hard when he leaned over you, his large hands pressing into the desk and a strand of his blonde hair fell out of place and curled over his eyebrow.

“It’s not because you think i'm handsome that you're so distracted now are you?”

A shiver went down your spine at the sound of his silky voice matching his daring eyes as if he was waiting for you to act on it. You looked up at him, he could see his reflection in your doe-like eyes and it made him unconsciously lick his lips.

“I uhm….I'm sorry” you battered your eyelashes at him, hoping he would keep this information to himself and not out your words to your mother.

“Im sorry...who?” his voice was stern. Something dark had overcome him and it excited you.

“Im sorry...sir”

You watched his eyes light up by your words and it was enough indication that you weren't being delusional about him. Kun took a step back and returned to his desk signaling the end of your conversation. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and grabbed your notes heading straight for the door.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Most of the next three weeks Kun was pretty normal. He treated you just like every other student in the room and it made you feel a tad jealous. You waited for his glances or him asking you to stay after class but he completely ignored you. Maybe he came to his senses and felt guilty flirting with a student when he was married. That was until Friday came around and you were sitting in your mom’s office.

“One sign of pleasant weather actually got you wearing a skirt ?” Your mother teased as she bit into her salad.

“I've never worn it before and I think it looks cute” you pouted looking down at your beige and chocolate brown checkered mini skirt.

“You do look cute sweetheart and you'd look even cuter organizing my store room”

You groaned at your mothers request but jumped to your feet knowing you didn't have anything else to do. It sucked that the weather was actually perfect for an outfit to tease Mr Qian in but his lecture had been cancelled for the day. You opened the store room only to be greeted by dust and darkness, not surprised that the state of the shelves were a mess in a few short weeks since you last cleaned them.

Grabbing a flashlight you got started on the lower shelves when you heard a knock on your mom’s door and Kun walked in holding a box of folders.

“You're done already ?” Your mom said, mouth filled with her chicken wrap as Kun placed the box on her desk,

“Yes I scanned them onto my usb, It’s easier catching up that way” he replied politely,

“Okay well I’ll tell y/n to put these away, I'm still trying to finish these reports and my lunch”

Kun tutted at your mother’s words and began unpacking the box, carrying the folders over to the storeroom, “I'm not doing anything right now and we cant let y/n do everything on her own now can we?”

Your eyes widened as he joined you in the dark storeroom, his figure completely hidden from your mother as she continued snacking on her wrap and eyes engrossed in her computer,

“Kun you're too kind, okay you two have fun.”

You held your breath as you felt his arm brush against your back as he worked on the shelf behind you. His perfume was sweet, the scent tickled your nose while he moved around the compact room.

“Where’s section R 20-30 ?” Kun asked you softly, squinting as the flashlight you held caught his eye.

“Oh sorry uhm it's down here you can give it to me-”

“It's okay I got it” Kun mused and crouched down next to your bare legs trying to find the placement of the file in hand. You kept your focus on the shelf in front you, freezing when you felt the tips of his hair brush against your knee. Kun slid the file in its place and allowed his fingers to dance along your legs as he stood up, scanning your face for a reaction. When you gathered yourself you turned back to placing files in their respectful spots earning a scoff from Kun. He cocked his head to the side, amused by your composure. He touched you a few feet away from your mother and you didn't budge, he was impressed.

You thought his teasing was over until Kun stood beside you, shielded in the dark and you felt his warm breath against your neck. You froze when you felt his fingers on your inner thigh, slowly moving up until he pinched and you squealed, bumping into the shelf.

“Darling are you okay ?” Your mom called from her desk.

“Answer her y/n” Kun whispered before placing an open mouth kiss on your neck.

You cleared your throat and prayed your voice wouldn't crack, “Im okay just tripped over something, the usual” You heard your mother chuckle, thanking the heavens that she was so oblivious to what was going on in her store room right now.

You felt Kun smile against your neck and his fingers returned to your inner thigh, moving up until he grazed against your lace panties. Kun hummed when he felt how wet you were for him, you couldn't believe how wet you were for your professor at this moment. Kun skillfully moved your underwear to the side and felt your wetness before bringing his finger up to your mouth.

His lips curled into a smile waiting to see how dirty you were. All of this seemed like a test to you, as if he wanted to see how much you could endure before he had his way with you. The way he looked at you made you want him right then and there. Guys your age couldn't handle a girl like this as much as they tried to convince themselves. Your sex life was boring, all of them were the same but this, this was exhilarating.

Kun’s mouth parted as he watched your pouted lips meet his finger and lick his finger clean. The way he looked at you made you feel proud, he made you feel like you aced your assignment.

“Dammit I have a last minute meeting, sorry sweety I can't drive you home today should I call a cab ?” your mother sighed as you and Kun innocently stepped out of the store room.

“I don't mind giving her a ride home,” Kun offered, his attention fully on your mother despite feeling your glance on him.

“Kun you are a lifesaver seriously, how do I repay you ?” Your mom grabbed her satchel from her desk and made her way to the door.

“How about dinner? Jia and I really enjoyed your hosting” Kun offered, helping your mom lock up. You felt weird when he mentioned his wife’s name, hating that you were jealous of the woman who actually got to call him hers. It also made you feel as if you were just a play thing for him, and that none of this would affect him but rather you.

You were lost in your own thoughts until you realized your mother had already agreed to his offer and you were now standing alone in the corridor with Kun.

“Shall we ?” Kun gestured for you to lead the way and the two of you walked in silence until you got to his car.

The first ten minutes were silent, all that could be heard was the faint voices on the radio and the tyres of the vehicle moving against the gravel road. Kun smiled to himself as he watched you pull out your phone to distract yourself from the uncomfortable silence.

“y/n do you have a boyfriend ?” He asked a little too casually for your liking.

“No I don't”

“Why is that?” His question made you look up at him, confused as to why he would ask you a question like this after he had already explored most of you just a couple minutes ago.

“Not interested in what this campus has to offer” you shrugged and looked out of the window, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Does your wife know you have a professor student kink?”

Kun clenched his jaw at your words and suddenly pulled into a vacant parking lot of a fast food joint. Before you could say another word Kun wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you in for a rough kiss. It was absolutely tantalizing, the way he tasted, the way his tongue fought with yours but it ended abruptly.

“You're a brat you know that ?” he chuckled dryly, “Jia and I are soon to be divorced, we only do work social activities because It makes a good impression.”

You felt a sense of relief and excitement. Even though it was a pretty fucked up arrangement going on currently, it lifts a burden off your shoulder knowing they will no longer be married.

“Why...me?” you bit down on your lip and looked up at him. Kun softened up and slumped into his seat, running his fingers through his ash blonde hair, “I don't know, the shallow answer is that I find you incredibly attractive”

“What's the other answer ?”

“Look,” Kun turned to face you, “We hardly know each other but I feel an instant connection to you, I tested your morality, which is fucked up, to see if you were like me, someone like me preaching ethics yet borderline fucked up?”

You could tell there was more to it, a personal war with himself especially since he was about to get divorced. Of Course you wished there was more to it but he was probably not ready to get involved with someone especially after years of marriage to then hook up with one of his students at that.

“Mr Qian everyone is fucked up I mean that's why we have to study ethics isn't it ?” you reached out to console him, rubbing his shoulder as he chuckled at your words. Kun leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on your lips,

“How did I come across someone like you y/n..”

“All im saying is I’ll be happy to be your rebound, your play thing whatever you need….Sir”

Kun shifted in his seat as he watched you lift his hand, making him palm your face as you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked on him gently. You heard his muffled curses as he adjusted his pants, trying his best to keep a tent from forming as he felt your tongue swirl around his thumb.

Kun quickly snapped out of the trance you had him in and restarted the car, getting back on the route to your house. You snickered to yourself as you noticed how red his ears were from the ordeal, it was nice being the dominant one for once.

He pulled up to your house and unlocked the car door for you, “I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow, wear a dress for me okay sweetheart ?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was saturday evening and being an obedient student you wore one of your most...accessible dresses. You made it look classy despite the length barely sitting above your knee and topped it off with a glossy makeup finish. Your mom had told you that Minghao wasn't attending tonight and you might get bored from their conversations, little did she know that this might be one thrilling night.

You helped your mom set up the table while your dad organized the drinks and played soft music in the background to set the ambience. Just as you finished the last utensil arrangement you heard the doorbell ring and the butterflies in your stomach had returned.

“Kun good to have you back man” your dad went in for a handshake as Kun and his wife stepped in. Kun was good at playing the innocent professor. The way he greeted you with such poise as if his hand wasn't up your skirt 24 hours ago.

“Let's not get too drunk now shall we, we're driving home this time” Jia tutted as she handed your mom a bottle of wine.

Suddenly the room was filled with a bright light followed by thunder, making you and your mom jump at the loud noise. “Seems like you're not driving home at all buddy” your dad said peering outside as the harsh rain began pouring down, already starting to flood the driveway.

“He’s right, you guys can stay in our spare bedroom for tonight,” your mom added. You and Kun both shared a quick glance before your dad pulled him into another conversation.

“Honey can you make sure the room is set up ?” your mother turned to you and you nodded, smiling politely as Jia thanked you.

By the time you were done with the bedroom you were welcomed by everyone already seated at the dinner table waiting for you. Unsure if it was planned by Kun but your seat was placed right next to him, with Jia at the head of the table conversing with your mom on her opposite end.

Kun poured you a glass of wine and you silently thanked him as your dad continued his intense conversation about whatever he watched on the news network this week. You sighed poking at your potatoes, being bored as your mom predicted you would be until you felt a hand on your thigh.

Keeping your eye focused on your dinner you scooted a little closer to Kun until his hand was able to fully grope your thigh without anyone at the table noticing a thing. You felt the icy cold sensation from his ring as he caressed your skin, not doing anything too drastic since everyone was in close proximity. You inwardly groaned when he eventually pulled his hand away, completely engrossed in the conversation happening between your mom and Jia. As Kun added his piece to the conversation you used the opportunity to do a bit of your own exploring and let your hand slip into his lap.

Kun pressed his lips together as he tried to focus on the chat instead of the hand that was now palming him under the table. You took a sip of your wine as you continued rubbing him through his black trousers, already feeling him get extremely hard under your touch. Until it was getting too much for him to handle, Kun pushed your hand away and excused himself from the table,

“I'm gonna use the bathroom, please excuse me”

“y/n why don't you show Mr Qian where the bathroom is” Your mom said, still chatting along with Jia and your dad.

You sighed and played the good daughter, leading Kun upstairs until the two of you were out of sight. With one swift movement Kun had you against the wall in the hallway, his hand wrapped around your throat and his erection pressed against your abdomen.

“Are you fucking insane ? you want me to fuck you in front of your parents is that it ?” he growled,

“Oh so you can have fun but I can't ?” you rolled your eyes only causing Kun to press into you harder.

“God you're so bratty, I can't wait to teach you a lesson” Kun bit into your neck, sucking until he was satisfied with its purple colour, “I'm going to go downstairs and telling your parents that you went to your bedroom, keep that dress on until I visit your room later tonight understand ?”

“Yes sir.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You waited in your room, doing as you were told and even heard your parents, Kun and Jia head upstairs and say their drunken goodnights. The sound of Kun’s voice just outside your door made you squirm in bed, wanting, waiting for him to just show up and have his way with you.

It was around 2am, your eyes were heavy and you sighed as you looked at the time on your desk clock. What were you thinking ? There was no way Kun could pull this off without his wife suspecting him or even your parents hearing someone sneaking around the house. But then again everyone was so damn drunk a criminal could break in and they'd have no idea.

Suddenly your door creaked open and in the darkness you saw a figure creep in, locking the door behind them. You sat up in bed and Kun quickly rushed over, placing a hand over your mouth and brought his lips to your ear,

“You have to be real quiet baby, even with all this rain and thunder, we have to be careful”

You nodded at his words and Kun placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling the covers off your body and switched on your bedside lamp in order to look at your body. He traced his fingers along your legs, over your abdomen and between your breasts until his thumb grazed your lips, parting them slightly.

Taking the hint you sat up and positioned yourself in front of Kun as he began unbuckling his trousers and let them pool around his ankles. You looked up at him as you palmed him through his boxers, watching him throw his head back sighing from the sensation. You pulled down his boxers and licked your lips once getting a full view of his erection, wasting no time in taking him fully into your mouth until he touched the back of your throat.

“Fuck” Kun mumbled softly as you began sucking him off, slowly in order to lessen the noise and to keep him fairly quiet.

Kun tugged on your hair and bit down on his lip watching your saliva drop from your mouth as he pulled out of you. You looked absolutely delicious, all he wanted to do was ruin you.

You stood up facing him until he began kissing you softly, unzipping your dress revealing your white lacy set and giving him his first taste of your naked figure. “You're beautiful” he cooed as he left soft pecks across your neck, especially on the spot where he had marked you earlier on.

Kun removed his shirt and unhooked your bra before pressing your back into your bed and his hips began grinding into yours, slowly, making you feel every part of him as the two of you returned to each other's lips.

“You're such a bad girl you know that” Kun groaned as he slipped his hand into your underwear and rubbed circles with his thumb, making you squirm underneath him.

“Teach me a lesson daddy” you sighed and the nickname made Kun growl into your ear. Kun pulled off your underwear and turned you until you were on all fours. He positioned himself behind you and as he pushed in he clasped down on your mouth and bit down on your shoulder, preventing both of you from moaning too loudly.

Kun’s hips slammed into yours erratically, switching from fast to slow strokes in order to drown out any suspecting sounds.

“I want to ride you daddy” you managed to whisper through his fingers and again Kun caved to the nickname and pulled out, falling onto his back as he awaited your offer. You slowly straddled him and took in his length once more, as Kun sat up, meeting your thrusts and held onto your ass and throat as you rode him as best as you could. Kun felt you tighten around him as you neared your climax and flipped you around until you were underneath him and he was now in control of both of your orgasms.

“Im so close..” you whined as Kun hit your sweet spot repeatedly.

“Me too baby, lets keep it quiet okay I promise I’ll make it up to you soon”

Kun brought you to your climax and he followed quickly after, his sweaty body falling on top of you as he tried to catch his breath. You reached for the covers and Kun turned onto his back and allowed you to cuddle into his chest. You smiled as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and stroked your head,

“Thank you, God I want more, I can't wait for more” he whispered as you giggled,

“I’ll be here, and besides you're going to help me pass ethics right ? “ you pouted. Kun chuckled softly and massaged his temples, “okay how about you study hard and i’ll reward you with whatever you want sweetheart,”

“Deal” you gleamed, “Thank you sir.”

#kun smut #kun fic #qian kun #wayv smut #wayv imagines #wayv x reader #wayv scenarios #kun scenarios #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines

351 notes · View notes

imjusttpeachy · 4 years

Text

bumpy roads & broken promises. (c.h.)

EDIT: Lmaoooo I did not expect this to actually get notes, thanks guys! I already made it onto someone’s fic recs-- I feel special. Actually might end up writing more if this gets more attention. :^)

I wrote this as a vent/comfort fic for myself but figured others might like it. Corpse has been my new safety youtuber ever since the old nosleep reader--deep voice/no face gamer went to shit so... yeah.

Heavily inspired by @mmonamona ‘s fic “Petty Fights and Lonely Nights” just more angst.

playlist

feng suave - sink into the floor

current joys - a different age

feng suave - venus flytrap

rei ami - do it right

summary: Corpse gets frustrated with work and snaps at the reader when she tries to ask what’s wrong, triggering a bad memory from a past relationship.

word count: 2, 932

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, shouting, panic attacks, reference to past relationship trauma (no retelling, nothing detailed)

(angst, hurt/comfort, crying! lots of it)

>>>

“God would you just fuck off already?!”

Frozen. Your body tensed up as the deep growl echoed through the cramped dark room.

You had been staying at your boyfriend’s apartment for about a week while you were on break from college. Flying out from the UK to California so you could spend as much time as you could with him before ultimately having to return to 5am facetimes while drowning in papers and essays.

Even before you’d booked the tickets, Corpse was already apologizing for everything under the sun. The size of his apartment and its cleanliness, the fact that he couldn’t do much more than order take out for you, his irregular sleeping patterns.. the list could go on and on. And while you assured him every time that you didn’t care, that you were coming to see him— not his apartment, not home cooked meals, and definitely not to scrutinize him for things he couldn’t control due to his mental health. But he wouldn’t buy it.

Not one bit.

He’d offer you a weary half-smile, pulling you into his chest or ruffling your hair before placing a soft kiss on your temple and changing the subject. You didn’t press any further knowing how often he was at war with his own mind and couldn’t help but think the worse of every situation.

As the days carried on, you’d spent most of your time tangled up in each other. Whether it be a movie, or playing some co-op games, or even just laying in his bed with him, you could barely stand to spend any time apart. But, of course, you were adults with responsibilities that would tear you from one another eventually. While you did miss his presence every second he wasn’t around, you couldn’t help but try to make his life even better for when he got back and for when you’d eventually have to leave him once again. Now, a week into your stay, his apartment was a good amount tidier than how it’d been when you arrived. The cupboards and fridge were stocked with groceries that would hopefully last for some time after you left, on top of the home made meals you’d make together or for him everyday. New picture frames were hung up on the wall of the two of you that you’d gifted to him when you arrived; it actually started to feel like home. Well, as much as it could without those familiar strong arms wrapped around you every second of the day.

Unfortunately, this evening was one of those times. Corpse had already been locked up in his office for a few hours now, the sounds of button mashing and frustrated exclamations making its way through the thin walls every so often bringing an amused smile to your face. He’d woken up a bit anxious already knowing he’d have to both leave you alone and put up a brave front for the stream that was planned that evening. You didn’t push him or try to talk about it, knowing that it would just make it worse; so you two had spent the day as it normally would (though he always looked and felt on edge) until he was forced to retreat back into that dreaded workspace.

You occupied yourself on your phone and laptop for a while, checking up on friends, reviewing anything you’d need for the upcoming semester, just scrolling through your socials— y’know, the works. But by the time you’d gotten bored with your scrolling, you’d notice it was a perfect time to start dinner that you’d hopefully be able to eat together with Corpse. You’d gotten to work right away, doing your best to be as quiet as you could to not disturb his work as the different aromas began to spread through the small kitchen in his apartment. Finishing up the dishes after the meal was all cooked, you dished up two servings and set them on the coffee table in front of the couch before you went to retrieve your other half.

Turning the knob of his office door slowly, you peered into the dark room; only the silhouette of the floppy mop of hair you adored so much was able to be seen in the dim light of his computer monitors. Taking a hard look at his right-most monitor you notice an editing software pulled up instead of the usual live chat he had on while streaming, so without any worry of interrupting you opened the door and stepped into the room. It was a cozy room for sure, and it always seemed to smell just like him— which of course is a given but with how much time he spent in this room, it was even more so present. Walking up slowly to his right side so you wouldn’t startle him with just your voice you watched his gaze flick to your form before steadying itself back in the monitor. Furrowing your brows at his strange behaviour but not letting it get to you, you opened your mouth to speak.

“I made dinner!” You smiled down at him, taking a few steps back toward the door so he would be able to get out of his gaming chair without you in his space. However, the hunched form of your focused boyfriend didn’t move an inch. Your heart sunk a little at his attitude but decided to just try again.

“Corpse, baby, dinners ready.”

“I’m not hungry.” The short statement left his mouth in a low grumble, if you hadn’t spent all this time with him studying his voice and begging him to speak more to you, you probably wouldn’t have been able make it out at all. You huffed out a sigh, this was new for him, you really hadn’t seen him as anything other than the cuddly baby you’d grown to know and love. But, you thought to yourself, love would come with days like this and it was bound to happen eventually. Trying your best to not get frustrated or angry with his snappy attitude, you kept your voice light and cheery as you tried again to coax him out to eat.

“Corpse you’ve barely eaten today I-“

“I said I’m not hungry.” Startling at the angry tone you’d never heard from him before, you could feel yourself start to get choked up. Pulling your hands up to hug your arms, trying to sooth yourself, you could feel yourself starting to slowly freeze up. Goosebumps ran over your skin, a chill snaking it’s way up your spine as you gulped, trying your best to muster up the bravery to speak again. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, he knew how the tone affected you— he was usually even the one to comfort you after an episode triggering something like this. As your mouth began to run dry, you took a deep breath deciding that he would definitely come to his senses in the next moments, you opened your mouth to speak again.

“Is everything alri-“

“I’m FINE! I’m not a FUCKING CHILD I don’t need you constantly checking up on me! God would you just fuck off already!”

You didn’t even notice the tears dripping off your cheeks until they splashed against the bare skin of your hand. Slipping into the defense mode you knew so well, your body switched onto autopilot as you began to backpedal out of the room, almost tripping a few times as you sputtered out a choked “okay, I’m sorry,” before closing his door once again and stumbling messily down the hallway to his room. Your mind was moving a thousand miles a minute yet was completely blank at the same time, and before you knew it you were tucked away inside the dark closet in his room.

This was the routine, this is where you’d be safe.

Trying to slow your erratic breathing you hugged your knees even closer to your chest, praying that in some way it would ease your shaking body. But inevitably, you felt the sobs that you’d kept trapped in your throat since you’d left break through. Your chest heaved with the breaths you took to keep your sobs as silent as possible. You thought you had trained yourself well enough for this, you’d done this a million times before— but in the back of your mind you knew that this time it was different. Shrinking into the corner of the closet, the only thing on your mind was all the broken promises he’d sworn to keep.

>>>

Corpse sighed, his body weighing him down in his chair heavily, head aching with all the work he’d been doing that evening. Pulling his attention back, he stretched his arms as his sore eyes glanced over at the clock in the corner of his screen. 11:34pm. Fuck. That much time had passed already? Raking a hand through his hair he yawned sleepily, he knew he should probably spend more time working before calling it a night but all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you-

Shit.

Finally snapping out of the heavy trance he’d set himself in every time he sat down to edit, he thought back to the last time he had seen you— calling him for dinner where he snapped at you to leave him alone… almost 3 hours ago. The memories of the past moment flooded into his head and seconds later he was scrambling out of his chair and out into the hallway. It was dead silent, Corpse felt like his heart was practically breaking his ribs with how hard it was pounding in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gripping at the right side of his shirt he rushed into the living room, rubbing frantically at his eyes as they darted around the room quickly looking for any sign of you.

“(Y/N), baby?” He rasped out, voice caught in his throat, walking through the living room and spotting the now cold meals she’d prepared waiting uneaten on the coffee table. His heart sunk as he hurried to the kitchen only to see the rest of the meal out on the counter, not doing anything to ease his mind. He called your name again and again; rushing back into the living room his eyes darted to the front door, a tiny bit of relief pricking his system as he saw the door was still locked and latched, as well as seeing your shoes and jacket by the door. Rushing back into the hallway he peeked into the bathroom, flicking on the light switch and with no sign of you, continued down the hallway to his room.

“(Y/N), please baby.” Flicking on the light his eyes scanned the room not catching a single sight of you-- when he heard it. Slowing his breathing down as much as he could in his panicked state he focused in his hearing on the small heaves of air coming from the closet. Stomach dropping, Corpse collapsed onto his knees, legs giving way from underneath him when he realized where you were and what was happening. Crawling his way toward the closet door he stopped right outside of it, he heard your breath hitch and knew you were holding it out of practiced instinct which made him want to vomit. But it wasn’t about him right now, so with a deep breath he finally managed to whisper out.

>>>

“Princess, I’m gonna open the door okay?”

Finally releasing the breath you had been holding, your lungs heaved for air as light flooded into the dark closet. Peeking an eye out from where it was buried in your knees, you blearily made out your boyfriend’s blurry figure kneeling outside the closet. With your body feeling like it was completely out of your control, sobs once again began to rack your huddled form as you shrunk away from him as far as you could into the corner of the closet.

“I’m gonna come in and sit with you okay, I won’t touch you unless you say I can alright?” You could hear some shuffling before hearing the door creak shut again engulfing the both of you in almost complete darkness, save for the few streams of yellow light coming from the cracks of the door. Corpse stared forward in complete silence, long legs bent uncomfortably and body hunched over in the cramped space of the closet trying to give you as much space as possible but knowing that the first step was sitting with you. The man beside you sighed softly, feeling his heart splinter with every heaving sob that raked over you; he could feel his own tears prick at his eyes and a sob starting to well up in his throat but he held them back. Mustering up the courage and will he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“(Y/N) I am so, so fucking sorry,” his voice pitched just above a whisper because he knew if his voice got any deeper that it would startle you and scare you even more than how you were already feeling right now. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. It never should’ve hap-“

“Y- You br- broke your promise.” Your reply came in watery, stuttered breaths; the knot in Corpse’s throat came right back up, tears filling his waterline as much as he tried to keep his composure for your sake.

“I know. I know I did.” The man beside you managed to choke out thinking back to the day where he first lost his temper around you. You’d told him everything about your experience with your past relationships and how you were treated, what you used to cope and what he could do to avoid that in any way possible. He promised that day that he would never again raise his voice, or move too fast even when he was angry or frustrated, and made sure to note down anything that would possibly trigger you to completely avoid altogether. And he kept those promises… until today. Tilting his head to glance over at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the closet to see you staring straight ahead, tears pouring endlessly down your damp face as your body still shook with soft cries.

“I can’t lose you (Y/N)” Corpse’s voice shook as he tried to figure out the right things to say that would keep you from walking right out that door.

“I’ll do anything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll be better, I swear on my life I’ll be better. Anything you need— it’s yours. I just.. I can’t lose you. Not like this.” He hated how much he sounded like he was pleading when he’s the one who fucked up. The last thing he wanted to do was manipulate you into staying with him which was exactly what your ex did when they made the same mistake time and time again; something he swore he’d never even think of doing. But here he was, and here you were glancing up at him with bloodshot eyes, hair sticking to your tear slicked face and body shaking so much you’d think it was below freezing in there.

Tearing your gaze away from his, you heaved a watery, shaky sigh trying your best to get your thoughts in order. While you had your issues, you knew he had his as well; and with as much patience and understanding he gives you with your snappy, frustrated, sad days, you needed to give back that same patience and understanding with his own. You needed to be brave here.

“Baby-“

“C-Can you just hold me? Please?” You sputtered out just above a whisper, and before you could even unwrap your arms from around yourself Corpse was pulling you into his lap; strong arms encasing you as he pushed his face into your hair. That’s when you found out he was shaking just as much as you were, chest rising and falling erratically with contained sobs as he tried to keep his brave demeanour up for you. Tucking your head under his chin he leaned back against the wall as he crushed you to his chest, the droplets hitting the top of your head giving way to the fact that he was crying too. Pulling your arms up from your side, you slowly wrapped them around his shoulder as he pushed his face against the crook of your neck, sobs finally giving way as he cried helplessly into your shoulder; further dampening the already tear-soaked cloth of the hoodie you were wearing.

“I’m sorry,” Corpse sputtered, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could keep up with the heaving of his chest, pulling an arm up from around your waist to rest on the back of your head. As much as he wanted to run his hands all over your body and bury his fingers in your hair to feel and memorize every inch of you, he kept them still not wanting to overwhelm you more than this kind of touch already did.

“I love you, I love you so much, I love you..“ he whispered over and over into the darkness of the closet as you both began to breath slower as one. Shushing him softly, you repeated the soft words back to him before wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders, ensuring him that you were going to be alright.

There would be bumps in the road but Corpse was worth it.

__________________________________

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse imagine

902 notes · View notes

titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part V

[ previous ] Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x Reader, Zeke Jaeger x Reader wc: ~ 8.8k Warnings: pining, testosterone, Zeke being a dick (who woulda thought), subtle manipulation (both on Zeke’s part that goes unchecked and accidentally on Mike’s part) A/N: Well, we’re gettin’ there. We’re truckin’ along. I’m sorry for the last chapter. And, I’m sorry for this one. But, I do still hope you enjoy it. I think we’re at the halfway mark here.

Mike gets a text from you at nine PM three days before he’s supposed to go back to campus. It’s just a few words, a question that makes his heart drop to his stomach because you’ve never asked it before.

Can we talk for a sec?

He waits for a few minutes, tries to get rid of the panicked feeling rising in his chest, but he can’t get it to go away entirely, so he just bites the bullet and calls you.

“Heyyy,” you greet. Mike can already tell a difference in your tone. Something is definitely going on.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just, uh…” He hears you suck on your front teeth, a nervous habit he’s well versed in now, then you tell him, “I just wanted to give you a heads up before you get back here.”

Mike swallows. “Heads up about what?”

Are you leaving? Did you fail your summer classes despite all his help? Did you get into some kind of accident?

You let out a long breath that Mike wishes he could feel on his skin. He wishes he could see your expression, wishes he could hold your face in his hands and tell you that whatever it is, it’ll be okay. Seems like he’s always wishing for things.

“Um, I—uh… I’m kind of seeing someone.”

The floor falls out from beneath him, and Mike drops with it, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He grits his teeth, trying to breathe normally—in through the nose, out through the mouth. This is about the last thing he expected you to confess.

It’s apparently taking too long for him to gather himself, because you say his name, “Miche?” and he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

“I’m here. It’s, uh, fine,” he lies. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” You sound worried, as you should because while Mike isn’t mad, he’s extremely disappointed, probably the most he’s ever been.

Taking a page out of your book, he tries to play it cool, act like he doesn’t care. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, you—...” Met your mom? Learned your secrets? Tried to tell you that he loved you? All valid responses, but you just dismiss it with a quiet, “Nevermind.”

Mike hums, lets the line go silent for a while, then musters the courage to question, “Do I know him?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“What do you mean ‘you think so’?”

“I mean he’s mentioned you, so I figure you’ve had at least a few conversations.” You’re getting that sassy tone, the one that signals you want to drop the subject, but you can’t this time. You’ve already warned Mike that you’re off the god damn market. You might as well tell him who exactly he’s gonna see you holding hands and sucking face with. It’s the merciful thing to do.

“It’s not one of the Pike guys, is it?”

“No, no,” you laugh and it makes Mike want to scream because he doesn’t find this amusing at all, and it only gets worse when you finally answer, “It’s Zeke Jaeger.”

Mike nearly hangs up then and there, but he somehow fights the urge. He does hold his phone away from his ear, though, stares up at his ceiling for a few seconds and stretches his arm out, then brings the device back. “Cool. He’s a… Talented dude.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I’m not exactly starstruck or anything. Not after hangin’ out with you all of last year.”

Mike rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might fall out of his skull. “You don’t have to make this about me, ba—...” He catches himself before finishing the pet name. He can’t do that anymore. He can’t call you what he wants to. He can’t flirt or smooth hair out of your face. He can’t pick you up and hold you against the walls of the house. He can’t show you how much he cares for you.

“I know. I just feel kinda bad,” you mumble.

“You shouldn’t. It’s cool.” His flat tone is anything but cool, and you can probably tell, but there’s not much Mike can do about that.

You’re pouting when you question, “You’ll still be my friend?” Mike can see the expression without actually seeing it, the doe eyed look you’d be giving him if he were in front of you right now. He can also imagine looping his arms around you and smiling crookedly and kissing your forehead, and fuck, he feels broken.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Shouldn’t even be a question.”

“Good.”

You lapse into another silence, just breathing and waiting for the other to break. It’s you who does. You clear your throat and state one more time, “I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

“See you in a few days.”

“Yeah,” Mike is barely listening at this point, just looks at the poster on the wall and lets it fall out of focus. “See ya’.”

You don’t hang up immediately, like you’re waiting for him to say something else, but Mike saves you the trouble and presses the ‘end’ button on his phone then tosses it on his pillow and falls back onto the mattress.

He just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand any of it. You’ve gone an entire year denying him, keeping yourself closed off and never once bringing up the possibility of actually being together. After all the time spent together, after all the date parties, all the sex, staying at each others’ houses. He feels like he knows you better than anyone else probably does. You let him in. You let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. You acted like you trusted him.

So, why isn’t he your first choice? As soon as you realized you were ready to make a fucking commitment to someone, why wasn’t it him?

Mike doubts he’ll ever get the closure. He’ll just have to cope with seeing you around campus with Zeke god damn Jaeger, have to pretend like everything is fine, like you haven’t ripped his heart out of his fucking chest.

Unbearable. It’s going to be absolutely unbearable.

Moving somewhere new always blows. It takes so much energy that Mike doesn’t have, yet here he is, hauling bags and boxes up to his new apartment unit. Honestly, he would almost prefer to stay in the frat house instead of having to make all the trips up and down these god damn concrete stairs, but at least now he’ll finally be away from all the parties. That will definitely come in handy this year considering he’s not gonna want to go to a single fucking one of them.

Once all of his belongings are stacked in his fairly small living room, Mike glances around his new haven, already thinking about how empty it feels without all the guys milling about and dicking around. He doubts he’ll miss the constant noise, but it’s still something that will take some getting used to.

What he will miss is seeing you all the time, waking up in his old room to see you still fast asleep on his pillows, sitting in the main room with the others, heckling them as they play various games. He’s been focusing on the small things for the last couple of days, the things he never took the time to really enjoy. It feels like he didn’t stare long enough or laugh hard enough when he had the chance, and now he doesn’t know when his next opportunity to do either of those with you will be.

Mike scrubs a hand down his face, scratches the hair he’s let grow out a little too much, then slowly begins to unpack his things. He’s being melodramatic, he knows, but he can’t help it. He can either let himself feel sad, or he can let the unbridled fucking rage take over, and out of the two, he prefers the former.

Mike’s class schedule gets pinned to the wall in his bedroom. His laptop gets set up. Textbooks are tossed into a corner. He really doesn’t care to do much more than that, but he figures he should make the place at least a little presentable. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find someone to entertain.

The thought makes him a little sick to his stomach, but it’s a sensation he’s slowly getting used to as more time passes.

Mike knows he needs to pull himself together, needs to put on a brave face. Pretty soon all the frats will be dealing with the dirty rushers, all the kids who weren’t able or didn’t think to suck up to the brothers during the spring. Then there’s inductions and hazing… Fuck, fall semesters are so tedious even without living in the house. He’s never been a huge fan of it all, but he’s had this image to uphold since he became a pledge.

Now, Mike isn’t so sure he can keep that image in place.

He stays locked away for as long as he possibly can, but eventually there’s a knock on his front door—Erwin who shoots Mike a broad grin and wriggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “You ready, bro? Got a place all your own with no one to bother you—”

“You’re bothering me.”

“Can do whatever you want,” Erwin powers on, completely unfazed. “Bring back whoever you want, no pesky frat boys to get in your way ‘cause fuck those guys, right?” He goes to grab Mike’s shoulders while laughing at his own joke, but Mike swats him away.

It makes Erwin scoff, and then he’s pushing past Mike to get into his new home, looking around for just a second and breathing out a little, “Eesh,” before turning back and giving Mike a look of condescension. “Don’t tell me this bad mood is because of your little toy finding someone else.”

“Okay, firstly, fuck off,” Mike squints at him. “And, secondly, how do you already know about that?”

Erwin examines his manicured nails, buffs them on his shirt and tells Mike, “Saw her and Jaeger walking out of the bookstore earlier. They looked pretty cozy. Pretty giddy, too, all smiles and—”

“Shut. The fuck up.”

The other man snorts. “Calm down, dude. I’m sure you can get her back or whatever you’re trying to do. Zeke’s an assole. Won’t take her long to figure it out.”

“We’ll see.”

This time Mike lets Erwin clap a hand on his shoulder before he walks out but not without suggesting, “You really should brighten things up a little in here. Hang some fairy lights or something. Girls love fairy lights.”

Mike rolls his eyes, not bothering to remind his friend that he only started unpacking half an hour ago, then physically shoves Erwin out of his apartment.

So, you’re already walking around campus flaunting your new little fling, he thinks. Perfect. He’s really looking forward to seeing that everywhere.

Mike eventually has to go by the PKA house for a meeting. Some of the members are already discussing plans for rush week and parties. Should they have lists or just keep them open and direct everyone to the yard? Are they gonna stick to their regular forms of hazing or should they change things up this year? Did anyone stick out from spring? Mike doesn’t pay much attention, just scrolls through his phone skimming through the same three social media apps over and over. He reads through the text thread he shares with you, the one he’s never deleted, and thumbs all the way up to a few months ago just to see if anything had been different back then, if he had said or done something wrong.

But, he’s gone through it a dozen times already, and he never finds anything. Maybe you just grew while he was away, experienced some kind of self-actualization that prepared you for an actual relationship.

Or, maybe Zeke just has something that Mike doesn’t.

Mike runs into you on the second day of classes. Thankfully, you’re alone, and as soon as you catch sight of him, you grin widely and launch yourself at him. It comes as a surprise, your full weight hitting him square in the chest when you jump, and he has to catch you like you’re an excited child.

It’s too close. You’re too close. Body against his as you slide down to your actual height and rest your head on his chest.

“I missed you, Zacharias.”

He wants to lift you up again, lock your thighs around his waist and kiss you like he used to. Instead, Mike pats the top of your head and gently untangles you from himself. He makes sure to smile when you look up at him, and he’s glad you aren’t pouting or frowning, your expression soft when he tells you, “Yeah, I missed you too.”

He asks how your summer classes went. You ask what his course load is like this semester. It’s just small talk, and Mike hates it.

“How’re your parents?” You question like you’re interested, but he can’t imagine you actually are.

“They’re good,” he shrugs. “Dad got a promotion at work a few weeks ago. Mom is doing the same shit she always does.” Like, making his favorite meals to heal his poor little broken heart. Mike hadn’t even told her about the conversation he’d had with you, and yet, as soon as he came out of his room the following morning, she just knew.

“Glad to hear it,” you nod. “Hey, do you wanna grab lunch or something? My next class isn’t til two, so I’m tryin’ to kill some time.”

“Actually, I told Erwin I’d meet him,” Mike lies through his teeth. He’ll be using excuses like that for as long as he can. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cool,” you wave him off. “I’ll just grab Hitch or—”

“There you are.” Mike stiffens at the vaguely familiar voice ringing out from behind him, hand flexing by his side as the school’s golden boy walks right past him and to you. “I was looking all over for you.”

“Well, here I am,” you laugh, but Mike notes how forced it sounds. It’s a laugh that stems from nerves, he thinks. But why? Is it because Mike is here? Are you afraid of how he’ll act? Or, is it that you’re still in the phase of this “relationship” with Zeke that you’re still anxious around him?

The other man doesn’t even acknowledge Mike for a full twenty seconds. He heavily considers just walking away without a word, but the blond does eventually turn around to look at him and shows a smile that Mike would describe as slimy but you would probably call charming.

“Zacharias,” Zeke greets and holds out a hand. “It’s been a minute.”

Mike doesn’t like the way he says his last name. He only likes the way his friends say it. How you say it. Even if it started off as a way to keep your distance, he grew fond of it. Not as fond as his given name, of course, but hearing those four syllables from your mouth, always laced with attitude, never fails to make him smile.

“Yeah, it has,” Mike agrees, clasping hands with him.

He immediately feels Zeke stick his index finger out over his wrist, an attempt of taking control of the shake. Mike has seen it too many times to count, the petty attempt to flip hands so that one man’s is on top of the other. It’s a terrible way to flaunt one’s masculinity or power, and it’s never worked on Mike.

His hand is quite a bit larger than most people’s, after all. It’s definitely larger than Zeke’s, so when he tries to turn it, Mike doesn’t have a problem keeping his wrist straight.

The blond has to look up at him, actually tilt his head back because Mike has a good five inches on him, and after a couple more seconds, Zeke gives up on the pathetic display of dominance. That doesn’t stop Mike from squeezing his palm just a little too hard, though, just enough to see the muscles in Zeke’s jaw twitch.

When he lets go he chances a glance at you, finding you rubbing your temples. You mumble something Mike can’t hear, probably about men being stupid because there’s no way that little show escaped your notice.

Zeke steps over to you once again and asks the same question you had asked Mike—”You wanna get lunch, babe?”

Hearing him calling you that causes Mike’s blood to bubble in his veins, blistering from the inside out. It’s time for him to leave.

“Yeah, sure,” you nod. Eyes flicking back to Mike, you force another smile and tell him, “See you around.”

The two of you walk off, and Mike watches for just a little too long as Zeke laces his fingers with yours. Once you’re both a safe distance away, the fucker looks back at Mike from over his shoulder and smirks at him.

Mike has long legs. He could easily catch up to you and punch Zeke square in the jaw, make his head snap to the side so that he drops to the ground.

But, what would you think of that? There’s no way you’d be happy with him, and if there’s one thing that would be worse than Mike having to see you parade around with someone who isn’t him, it would be you ignoring him completely.

The first couple of weeks are honestly a blur. Too much is happening for Mike to focus on. The only thing that seems real to him is the ache in his chest. It distracts him day in and day out, through the late rushers and all the sucking up, through the first couple of parties, bid day and the first rounds of hazing. It’s just always there.

He is notably quieter when in the house, and it seems like everyone knows why. While Erwin pokes fun at him for his moodiness, Nile takes a more adult approach and simply asks how he’s doing, if he needs anything, going as far as offering, “You need me to punch that dude in the throat? Plant drugs in his bag? I’m pretty sure Gelgar has coke on his person at all times.”

He’s a good guy. Mike is glad he got voted in as PKA President this year despite Erwin giving him a run for his money. Nile is just personable enough to bring members in and have a good time at events, and just controlling enough to make sure things in the house are taken care of. Plus, Erwin doesn’t seem too broken up about getting Vice instead.

It’s a relief when lacrosse starts back up, finally gives him a way to get some of his frustration out. The other teams have never been luckier to be wearing helmets otherwise Mike would have broken several noses within the first game alone.

The season has some overlap with baseball, games scheduled on the same day, sometimes at the same time. Mike keeps himself from looking into the stands to try to find you, scared that you’ll be there or scared that you won’t be, he isn’t sure.

And, of course, Zeke’s face is plastered everywhere after he pitches a perfect fucking game. Mike wants to be angry, wants to spit on the flyers and punch every computer that’s displaying the college’s home screen, but if he’s being honest with himself, he knows that if it were anyone else, Mike would be impressed. Pitching a perfect game is pretty fucking cool, and the school is lucky to have a player as talented as Zeke, but god, what Mike wouldn’t do to just curbstomp him.

Your name still lights up on his phone fairly often to ask how games went or how his classes are going. You’ve asked for help with homework on one occasion and lunch on another, but after Mike lies about only being able to walk you through the material over the phone and shoots you down for lunch, you seem to get the picture.

He doesn’t want it to be awkward between you, but he doesn’t know how to act now. His entire relationship with you started off as a drunken fuck, and it’s been mostly physical since then. How is he supposed to be able to spend time with you without touching you? Even the semester you refused to hook up with him, there were still times when you were both actively fighting the temptation. Mike can remember seeing it in your eyes all the time, probably just as often as you’d see it in his. You’d sit with a leg pressed against his, fall asleep on his arm every once in a while, and he wants that back now, but there’s no way the two of you can do that anymore. He doesn’t possess the same self-control.

Over the weekend, you end up cracking and trying again, asking for help with studying for a quiz, and Mike has to contemplate it for at least fifteen minutes before he gives in.

Coffee shop on 7th? you text him, and Mike chuckles to himself. The only places you’ve ever studied together is at the library or in his room, and while he could only get as far as a hand between your legs in the school building, he would usually end up in bed with you whenever going over something behind closed doors.

It makes sense that you want to go to a busier place, more eyes to watch you. It’s irritating, but he understands.

Mike grabs one of his own textbooks from the previous year, the one he actually bought so that he could highlight and take notes in the margins, then makes his way to the little cafe.

He’s been to this particular shop many times before, with you as well as the girls who came before—the ones that never mattered. Mike easily spots you at a little table by the window, your own book and several papers spread out around you. When you see him, you grin then hurry to clear a space for him, organizing what Mike recognizes as reading guides.

“Hey, stranger," you greet.

Mike nods, eyes landing on the green hoodie you’re wearing, the one that covers too much of you, that spills over the tops of your legging clad thighs and hides your little hands. It’s his, but it’s always looked better on you. The fact that you still wear it makes Mike’s heart swell a tiny bit as he takes his seat. The sun is hitting you just right and making your face glow, making your eyes twinkle, and he doesn’t know if he can do this.

“So, what d’you need help with?” He prompts before he can make up his mind to turn right back around.

You slide one of the guides over to him and point out several circled questions. The blanks are filled in, but you ask him, “Why?” dramatically. “None of that makes sense to me.”

Mike laughs through his nose and glances at the page your textbook is flipped to so he can open his own.

“Why’d you keep your book from last year?”

He glances up before turning it to show the highlighted lines, the starred passages, the little annotations for better understanding.

“One, because I worked hard on making it better, and two,” he feels his mouth curl up, the teasing coming naturally when he tells you, “I figured you’d probably benefit from it.”

You squint at him, scrunching your nose up, and Mike takes a mental snapshot to tuck away.

“Rude,” you utter.

He raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair. “I think ‘thank you’ is the term you’re looking for.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just explain this to me if you’re so smart.”

“You know I’m smart.”

Mike doesn’t understand where the casual back-and-forth is coming from. Is it easy because he's done it so many times before? Words tumble from his mouth before they actually cross his mind, and he’s both grateful (it’s better than the awkward small talk he thought he’d have to make) and worried. If he’s speaking without actually thinking things through, what else might he do before his brain catches up? Will he smooth hair out of your eyes? Will he brush his hand over yours? Will he stare at your lips for too long? All of those are habits he hasn’t managed to break yet, but he will break if he accidentally offends you by crossing any of these lines.

He sits with his hands tucked between his legs, only moving to flip a page or point something out with his pinky finger. He's reading upside down, and you're leaning over the tabe, staring at the book then staring at him. Mike tries to look through you instead of at you, but it's hard as you let out a little oh! when something clicks or pouting when it doesn't.

"I still don't get it."

So, Mike finds different ways of explaining things because he knows this information very well now. It's still pretty fresh in his brain, and he may or may not have reviewed some of it when he saw how many of your classes matched up with his.

"Okay, I feel a lot better," you sigh once Mike has gone through every page.

Mike is more or less sitting on his hands at this point, gritting his teeth behind the grin plastered on his face because this is the part where he asks if you wanna go back to the house. This is the part where you wind down together, watching dumb TV shows or pawing at each other, rolling in his bed and laughing and moaning. That's what's supposed to happen.

"Alright, well, if that's it, I should get going," Mike tries, stretching his arms out and nearly smacking the person sitting behind him right in the head.

You snort, cover your mouth, and look away. It's what you always do. You can't look at him when you start laughing or you'll just laugh harder and harder, and while Mike adores it, the general public usually does not.

But, then Mike is snickering because he can feel the stranger trying to burn holes in the back of his skull, has to bite his fist to keep himself quiet, and when you chance a glance and see, you slam your head down on the table, whole body shaking with giggles.

It's always the little things that get you. On one of the walks with Scout over Spring Break, Mike had tripped over a stick on the trail. He managed to catch himself, but Jesus Christ, you didn't stop laughing for ten minutes.

"God fucking—" he's starting to lose it too as he stands and gathers your supplies from the table, tucking them all under one arm then using his other to pull you out of your seat. "We have to leave before they make us."

You hide your face in your hands, trusting Mike to guide you by the shoulders, and once you're both outside, you belly laugh until you wave your arms and gasp, "I can't—I can't breathe—I can't breathe!" Your voice is all high pitched and hysterical, and all Mike can do is bring you to his chest so that you can let your giggles die off in the privacy of his t-shirt.

He can feel your breath through the material as you calm down, eventually looking up and wiping tears from your eyes as you continue to grin.

Mike tilts his face down to stare at you, aware that all of his affections are shining right through his eyes, but he doesn't care because you don't seem to.

“You’re a fucking dork,” he hums, has a fully conscious thought of touching your face—no accident, no impulse, a complete, coherent, thought, so he does it. He just does it. Palm over your cheek, thumb gently tracing to wipe away another tear from your little fit.

You let out a long exhale, close your eyes and hum, then reach up to cover Mike's hand with yours.

Your fingers lock into the spaces between his, and you hold on for a few seconds before letting your hand fall, taking his with it. And, just like that, all the good feelings that had grown inside of him over the course of the study session disappear.

"Miche," you sigh, still holding onto two of his fingers.

He smiles in a way that makes you frown, then mumbles, "Yeah, I know."

After handing your supplies back, Mike kisses you on the top of the head before you can stop him, then turns and starts walking toward the street his apartment is on.

"Why are you always wearing that hoodie?"

You look up from your laptop just as Zeke steps out of his room freshly showered and shirtless. It's a sight that should probably make your mouth water, but instead it's gone dry at his question.

"Oh, uh, I don't really know," you bullshit. "It's just big and comfortable, I guess."

Zeke uses the towel around his neck to dry his hair a little better, questions, "Well, whose is it?" while his face is slightly obscured.

If you pause, he'll probably be suspicious. If you answer, he will also be suspicious. And, you can't really blame him. People know you on campus as Mike Zacharias' friend or girlfriend or plaything or whatever. You assume Zeke having to walk around with that hanging over his head is pretty annoying.

"Oh, wait," he starts before you can answer. Squinting without his glasses, he grumbles, "That's one of the lacrosse hoodies, isn't it?"

You look down at the cracked logo and try not to smile at it. "Yeah. It's one of Mike's old ones."

"Right." He pads over to you and takes your laptop from your legs despite your protests of being in the middle of an online assignment, setting it on the coffee table behind him. Then, using one arm to brace himself on the back of the couch, Zeke holds himself above you and takes your chin between two fingers so that he can tilt your face and kiss you.

It makes you melt. It always does. Your heart beats like a drum in your chest for about two seconds before it relaxes into a subtle thrumming, a white noise that drowns out everything else.

You straighten your back in an attempt to get closer, but Zeke pulls away ever so slightly, makes you chase after his lips and you do. You do because you want more, want him.

It's been weeks now and the farthest you've gotten with him, the farthest he's let you get with him, was the series of harsh kisses he'd ladened you with up against his front door a few days ago. He'd pushed your shirt up and shoved a knee between your legs, giving you something to grind against, but it never progressed to anything more.

You don't understand. It's not like he's never had sex. You've heard girls talk about him on campus, how he'd been seeing so-and-so for a couple months in freshman year, fucked some other chick at a party, etc., etc.

Then you'd met his actual ex the other day, one he dated officially for a semester last year before breaking things off. Her name is Rhi. She's very pretty. And, she had pulled Zeke into a full blown conversation without looking at you once. The way she batted her eyes and smiled at him, twisting her hair and shoving at him playfully—Oh yeah. She's definitely seen him naked.

You didn't say anything about it for a while, just stewed in silence until Zeke finally sighed and asked, "What would you like to know?"

He'd given you the vague outline—met her in class, studied together, decided to date, left her to focus on baseball. That excuse hit a little too close to home, but you'd let it roll off your shoulders.

The point is Zeke has fucked other girls, but he won't fuck you, and you need to know why because you're starting to get desperate. It's not a good look. It's one you never wanted to wear, but the way he stares at you and the way he talks to you, always pointing out your strengths, encouraging you, complimenting you is intoxicating.

When Zeke's eyes are on you, it’s like you're the most important person in the room. He has some ability to make you feel that way, to make everyone feel that way you realized one night after a game. People flock to him. They want to listen to what he has to say. They want to agree with him where he can see.

It's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't met him, but the best way you can describe it (a way only a few people will understand) is that he has a twenty for charisma. He's talented and smart and engaging, can convince anyone of anything the same way he's convinced you that he wants you.

Hand slipping behind your arching back, Zeke presses you against him for just a moment, then drops onto the couch next to you only to tug you on top of him.

You're already breathing too heavily, clutching his face in both your hands as you grind your hips against his. He squeezes your ass, smirking against your mouth when you whimper, then moves his hands to push both the hoodie and your shirt off.

You lift your arms, letting Zeke strip you as your mind grows hazy. He mutters more to himself than to you, a low, "Get this shit off," then carelessly tosses your clothes over the armrest.

Fingers climb up your ribs, almost tickling, making you squirm in his lap. You can feel that he's getting hard, thank god. This just might be the night, please fucking let it be.

You've never been a big fan of terms like ‘blue-balls’ or ‘blue-bean’, never even thought it existed, and it really doesn't; it's just a form of manipulation, of guilting your partner into sex, and you know this because you've had an entire rant about it prepared since high school, but right now, in this particular moment, you're aching. Your insides ache. Your clit aches. You just want—

Zeke pinches one of your nipples hard enough to clear your head for a second, causes you to cry out and pull back. He lets go, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you and flicks over the sore bud with a fingertip.

"Zeke," you breathe, body trembling.

"What is it, baby?" He coos.

"I—"

He snakes a hand between the two of you, ridding you of any and all thoughts as he rubs over your covered pussy. You're almost positive that if he keeps doing it, you'll start to leak through your leggings, right into his hand.

Panting, an old track plays in the back of your head, a deep voice, breathy and promising, gonna fuck you dry tonight.

You lean forward to kiss Zeke again, letting him suck and bite hard enough to make the frown on your face look natural, like he put it there.

Flames are licking up and down your legs, then your arms, but even though it's Zeke's lap you're sitting in and Zeke's tongue in your mouth and Zeke's fingers massaging your pussy, it's suddenly Mike you're thinking about, and well… That can't be good.

You tangle your hands in Zeke's hair, the different texture bringing you back to reality. His thick beard is scratching against your face. His bare torso is wiry with muscle and pressed to yours. He moves his hand and raises his hips to meet yours, a groan catching in his throat. It looks like he's finally losing his composure, cheeks flushed, eyes are foggy. When you break away, he licks away the string of spit holding you together, tongue running over his lip seductively.

"Can we—" you start, but Zeke speaks at the same time.

"It's getting late."

Blinking at him, you find yourself experiencing too many emotions to actually identify a single one. You feel your eyebrows knit together, but it’s more from your confusion than it is your frustration.

But, you don’t want to be frustrated. You don’t want to be or look upset about not getting sex. That would make you a terrible person, and you’re not about to make him feel bad for not being ready to take that step with you. You’ve been on the receiving end of that, and it doesn’t feel good.

The amount of times you’ve had to masturbate in the last few weeks is a little fucking ridiculous, though.

Nodding mostly to yourself to get your thoughts back in line, you slide off of Zeke to stand up. Your hand is trembling when you reach for your clothes, heat still coursing through you, but you manage to gently grab them from the couch rather than snatch them.

Shirt and hoodie back in place, you gather your things, feeling Zeke’s gaze on you the entire time. You don’t say anything, just nibble on your bottom lip as you run over all the events that took place over the night, what you possibly did wrong, what turned him off or just failed to turn him on in the first place.

After slipping everything back into your bag, Zeke finally gets to his feet and takes it from you, walking with you outside to your car.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he tells you, the picture of calm and collected while your body remains buzzing.

“Okay, yeah.”

He puts your stuff in the front passenger seat, shuts the door, and gives you a sweet little peck that you wish lasted longer.

Zeke says good night, begins walking back to the building, but stops and calls to you right before you shrink into the car.

Even from this distance, you can tell he’s looking you dead in the eye, face suddenly very serious when he tells you, “You can go ahead and stop wearing that hoodie.”

* For the first time since the semester started, lacrosse and baseball games do not overlap one another, and you're able to spend the warm afternoon in the stands, cheering on the friends you made over the last year.

The home team is dominating, Mike and Erwin are too fucking quick for their opponents to get in the way of. The way the ball just flies back and forth between them, like a game of keep-away, shows just how on-the-same-page they are. The other guys are good too, doing a spectacular job of staying one leg ahead, defending their star players and assisting in the offensive effort.

The last goal is made by Mike who launches the ball from the center of the field right into the goal, and both the crowd and the teams lose their fucking minds.

You're up on your feet screaming and clapping, voice breaking as your shrill cry tears your throat. You know you're being drowned out by everyone around you, but as Mike gets lauded for being the god he is—putting up with backslaps and hugs and a headlock from Erwin—he still manages to find you in the second row, grinning in that crooked way you love so much.

You don't know exactly when that started happening, probably sometime after Spring break. Or, maybe it was there since the beginning, just laying dormant at the back of your head so that you could focus on denying him.

It doesn't really matter now since you're actually with someone. That someone isn't around right now, but he's in your thoughts as your chest fills with affection and pride for your friend.

Erwin is shouting about another open party, and your mind is made up to not attend because Zeke wouldn't appreciate it, but then Mike is suddenly lifting himself onto the raised, concrete stands and pointing at you, and before you know it, you're hopping down the next bleacher without a care for the fans who have to lean out of the way.

He's incredibly sweaty as you wrap your arms around his neck, but you don't mind. You were so convinced he would be mad at you or try to avoid you.

You're very aware that you had hurt him by getting with Zeke, and while he had been pretty guarded for the first few weeks, he's opened up some since that day in the coffee shop, when you'd nearly giggled yourself to death. You hadn't expected that to be what cracked his walls, especially considering how that visit had ended, but you're glad that it did.

"Haven't seen you cheering for me in a while," Mike laughs next to your ear.

He's dizzy with adrenaline, swaying back and forth as he squeezes you, and you tell him, "If you make us fall, I will beat you up, I swear."

"Okay," he says in a stupid voice of obvious disbelief, "Whatever you say."

You've been texting more, going over homework together, though you haven't needed his help in-person since he had switched books with you that day. It had been so smooth and subtle, you didn't realize until you opened it to study the following day, immediately noticing all the notes and highlights.

It had made you cry like a little bitch in the middle of your dorm, and you called Mike to thank him without bothering to hide your tears and hiccups.

"Come to the party tonight," he demands, but it's so soft, like he's still giving you a chance to say no.

The crowd is still yelling, so you have to keep speaking into each other's ears, and you ask, "Why? All the Pike parties are sticky and gross."

"'Cause we haven't gotten drunk together in a while," Mike states in the form of a whine.

You snort, feeling his hair dripping onto your shoulder. You should probably be disgusted, but it's not the first time you've gotten sweaty with him, and it's definitely not the worst bodily fluid he's made a mess on you with.

"You know what happens when we get drunk together," you remind him with a smile he can't see. "Can't do that anymore."

"I promise I'll behave."

That's not the problem. You don't know if you can behave. You've been wound up for over a month now, and it is driving you insane. No matter how many times you get off alone in your room at night, you still ache as if you're being edged.

So, getting fucked up with someone you know for a fact can fuck you stupid… probably not the best idea.

"Miche," you protest, drawing his name out.

"Just think about it."

He leaves you with that, hopping down and walking away with his arms in the air as everyone surrounding you cheers for him until he disappears. You just stand there amidst the noise, shirt now wet as you contemplate the pros and cons of going to another PKA party.

As always, Zeke asks what your plans are for the night, but for the first time since you met him, you lie. * King's Cup and Rage Cage and Beer Pong galore. Party-goers are pooling onto the lawn, and you're just waiting for campus police to show because of the chaos, but you're not necessarily scared of it. So you go to jail for a couple days. Worse things could happen.

Currently, you and Mike are sitting on the sidewalk nursing beers and giggling at the new pledges who keep running around the house in less and less clothes.

"Honestly, this isn't that bad," Mike tells you. "Erwin suggested we make them all watch snuff together."

You give him an incredulous look as you raise the glass bottle to your mouth. "Erwin is a god damn psychopath, what the fuck."

"We had to do it and didn't turn out too bad."

"And, just like that, I'm scared of you."

Mike laughs before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling as a brawny blond speeds past in nothing but boxers—Reiner, you think his name is.

There are only a few new guys who stick out to you—that one, a long-faced kid named Jean, freckle boy Marco, and, naturally, Zeke's younger brother, Eren. He sorta skeeves you out, so you've been doing your best to stay out of his sight despite never formally meeting him before.

"Kid's kind of a prick, a little too cocky. Always talking about how he's related to Zeke, or should I say your lo-ver," Mike chuckles, sounding amused, but he still downs the rest of his beer afterward.

You let out a little growl, just drunk enough to be too honest, and grumble, "Not my lover. Also, I would never use that term. So cringey."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's weird and dramat—"

"No," Mike cuts you off, "What do you mean about him not being that?"

You fall back on the concrete, bumping the back of your head a little too hard and scrunching your face up.

"We haven't had sex. The dude just will not fuck me for some reason."

"Are you serious?"

You glance at Mike and find his eyes wide in alarm.

"As a heart attack. I have never been so frustrated in my entire life."

You probably shouldn't be talking about this with him, one, because you assume it's like twisting a knife right in Mike's gut and two, because the more you drink, the less self-control you have.

He grunts then tosses his bottle into the yard for some poor pledge to slip on.

"His loss."

"Whatever. I'm sure he'll come around eventually," you sigh then sit back up. "And, until then, I guess I'm practicing celibacy or some shit."

Mike laughs hard at that, and it makes you smack him on the arm. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying," he raises his hands. "You're, like, the neediest person I know."

"Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"In the bedroom, dummy. Obviously not all the time."

This is not at all where you wanted this conversation to go. The more you think about it, the more you feel that ache, the more you want to quell it.

"We should change the subject."

Mike looks at you, flipping hair out of his eyes and smiling like the cocky frat boy he pretends to be.

"Why? Gettin' all worked up."

"You are literally the worst."

You stand and finish your drink, throwing it a few feet away from Mike's as you tell him, "I need to get a little more fucked up if I'm gonna deal with your ass all night."

"Uh huh."

He follows you back inside, but while you make your way into the kitchen, Mike stops to talk with Erwin about one thing or another. It means he has to entertain the masses, talk about the game, and you post up against a wall to watch him.

You should leave. Mike is looking a little too attractive in his stupid fucking pastel polo, and you're supposed to meet Zeke for lunch tomorrow anyway. Zeke, your boyfriend.

Or, well, he hasn't said it explicitly, but you hold hands in public and ignore other people, just make it obvious that both of you aren't interested in anyone else.

Except when Mike sidles up to you with foggy eyes and a smirk he hasn't worn around you in a long time, you groan at the thought that you are interested in someone else. Even if it's just one night, god, you need it so bad. And, you know Mike can give it to you. Exactly the way you want it.

It's Zeke's fault, really. You know he knows how desperate you're getting. If he'd just explain why he doesn't want to have sex, you could deal with it much better than you are now, but he continues to leave you in the dark. It makes you think you're doing something wrong.

Then, there's the problem of feeling like the shittiest person alive every time you get frustrated. You've spent nights trying to rationalize it, but it's hard to think straight when you're so, undeniably horny.

"Don't look at me like that," you tell Mike with a scoff.

"Why not?"

"'Cause you said you'd behave tonight."

He cocks his head to the side and makes a face. "Did I? That doesn't sound like something I'd say to you."

"Oh my god, you're impossible. And, drunk."

"I'm not really that drunk," he waves you off. "It takes more than a few beers to get me fucked up, remember? Downfall of being this large."

Jesus, he really is rubbing it in your face now. Wide with muscle and so fucking tall. Not to mention his—

"I really cannot do this, Miche," you try again, gritting your teeth when his pupils dilate. "Zeke would be so pissed."

"So? Come on, just one more time. I didn't know the last time would be the last time."

You hadn't either. You don't know what you would have done differently had you known—maybe just taken the time to appreciate his incredible body more—but it doesn't matter now.

You try to sound firm and irritated when you snap, "You know you're being kinda manipulative, right?"

Mike tilts his head back as if you just shoved it, blinks a couple times, then swears out loud. "Oh, fuck." He takes a step away, eyes clear for the first time in several minutes. "I'm sorry. I didn't even—"

"It's fine," you wave. "I just wanted you to know. I'm drunk and you're hot, and I don't wanna fuck things up with Zeke."

"Yeah, I get it. Fuck. If you, like, wanna leave, I won't stop you. It was a joke, and then it wasn’t a joke and—That was a shit thing to do."

"Little bit, but you get a pass this time," you laugh through your nose. "Just don't go pulling that bullshit on some unsuspecting freshman or anything."

He runs a hand through his hair, red with embarrassment, and you think to yourself, Mike is a good guy. One of the best. You don't know of many who would take that kind of criticism to heart—how many would feel genuinely guilty. It is college, and every girl knows the trend of fratty sports players getting off scot-free after being charged with sexual assault. Given his status at the school, Mike could definitely do something like that and get away with it.

But, he would never.

You push him gently to show you aren't mad, tell him, "I still wanna hang out with you. We don't get to as much as we used to."

Mike's small smile looks relieved as he takes a deep breath. "This isn't exactly the best place to just chill, but—"

"I haven't seen your new apartment yet."

You regret it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, your little tune changing ridiculously quickly, but you can't deny that you're curious. He's still your best friend, and you want to know what he's done with his new place. Is it bland like his old room in the house, or did he let his real personality show through?

"You sure?" He questions.

"Yeah. We can just, like, play video games or something."

"Are you sure?"

He must feel terrible. You can relate.

"If you don't want me over, just say so," you snort.

"No, no, of course I do. I just don't want you to feel weird about being alone or anything."

"Nah, like you said, you're not really drunk. I'll sober up with water. We'll be fine."

You don't know if you're trying to convince him or yourself. Without the presence of alcohol, you should be able to keep it together, and the distraction of Zelda or Mario will surely help.

"Okay, yeah," Mike nods. "Let's go then."

You don't even bother finishing your drink, just set it on a countertop and follow him out to his Wrangler. It's been a while since you've ridden in it. It's been a while since you've ridden him, your brain helpfully supplies, and as you pull up to the unfamiliar apartment complex, you once again begin to think that this was a bad idea.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader

187 notes · View notes

twinklelilstarkey · 4 years

Text

Bad Day - Nolan Patrick

Words: 2.2k+

Type: Fluff and slight Angst

Summary: You and Nolan are very different. Your bubbly personality is something that does contrast with his own. Yet he finds himself lost when that so happy person loses her spark after a hard and sad day.

Warnings: A lot of crying over college stuff (negative grades, overworking, etc.). Affectionate reader. Slight mentions of blood (from falling).

You and Nolan have been dating for almost 2 years, now. Some people do agree that your relationship was quite odd when it began, but those who are the closest noticed how much you two belonged together.

The surprise behind your relationship is mostly around the topic of how your personalities are nothing alike. You are this loud, bubbly, excited and happy human being, and you’re dating this silent, introverted, deep-voiced man. He, obviously, isn’t so silent when he’s with his friends or you only, but people still describe him as so.

Sure, you understand the shock but you two truly love each other. And that should be the only thing that matters, right?

You and Nolan aren’t exactly very active on social media. Yet you post more pictures of yourself than he does. And just by your feed, people seem to notice how different you two are.

Some people find it cute, while others not all that much. So you two try to limit as much posts with the two of you together as possible. And even though that comes with a lot of rumoring of you breaking up, you’re just, honestly, trying to minimalize the hateful words you usually receive.

But, yes, you two are very different.

You can notice that in how the two of you interact with each other. Nolan, being this more closed off person, doesn’t seek that much physical and affectional touch. Not as much as you, surely.

You hug him, cuddle him, snuggle onto him, kiss him, play with his hair, and so on. And you do that while battling his whines right in your ear of how he didn’t want to cuddle at that moment.

Bad thing for him, you look right through his shit. This man loves when you hug him, kiss him, play with his hair, etc.. He just doesn’t like to admit it.

Your affection doesn’t really leaves your apartment, since you two aren’t both two big fans of PDA. But, hand holding or hugging his arm close to you when it’s cold, is almost always happening when out of the house. Again, he doesn’t mind it at all.

And that’s literally how your relationship works - one whines and the other gives hugs.

Yesterday was a Sunday, and it went particularly well. It was Nolan’s day off, so he spent most of his day playing video games with his friends. You worked on an assignment while sitting next to him, and once when you were done, you sat in Nolan’s lap, ignored his protests - which lasted 10 seconds - and just fell asleep against his chest, completely exhausted with everything you’ve been doing for college.

You honestly thought this week wouldn’t be all that bad since it doesn’t all that much going on. Weekend was good, and that usually was enough to set the mood for the rest of the days.

But, you thought wrong. Very wrong.

You went to college around the same time Nolan went to practice, you had breakfast together and everything was good. But that was until your teachers started to announce that they already had the grades of some tests and assignments.

In two of your 3 classes, today, a teacher gave you a grade. Both of them negative grades.

The worst part? You thought these were the two evaluations that had gone well and seemed pretty easy when you did them.

If this is your results to the ‘easy’ ones, what about the ones that you, actually, struggled with?

After college, you walked back to your apartment, eyes already covered with tears over your failed evaluations, and right as you’re about to get home, you trip over your own feet.

Right when you looked down at Nolan’s text.

Even though nobody was in the street to see it, you felt more than humiliated. Your knee was now painted in dark red over the fresh wound, from your fall, and you were in pain.

This is just a whole recipe for disaster.

When you got home, Nolan was still not back. And that just helped you with wanting to break down more as you walked through lobby of your home.

It’s usual warmth welcomed you home but it did not provide any sort of comfort.

You went into your phone to try and distract your mind by scrolling through social media or looking at pictures with your friends and Nolan. But from not the lack of social media in these last few days, you let your eyes focus on old notifications popping up, comments, which are a few days old.

All of them negative.

From how you were using Nolan for his money or fame, to how unlucky he is to be dating someone like you. Insults were just scattered all throughout your feed.

As if your day could get any worse.

After half an hour of crying, you were able to force yourself into taking care of your nasty wound. Yes, there were some more tears and sobs here and there. But you feel more calm than before.

You ended up not texting Nolan since you were too preoccupied after your fall to remember anything. And he found it strange.

He had just texted you saying that practice was over when he got off the ice, and since then, he hasn’t received anything.

He kept on checking his phone. He checked it when he took his gear off, after he showered, when he got dressed, etc.. He kept on doing it, and still nothing.

And now, you are laying on your bed, in way more comfortable clothes, and under your comfortable and fluffy duvet and a blanket over your head. Your lap top is right next to your head and only your face isn’t shielded from any colder temperatures.

Tears would make their way back to you in between every few seconds while you force your mind to focus on a random video of reality show highlights. It’s like you can’t really control your body anymore.

Constantly reminding you of your failures as you keep on trying to focus on something else. But nothing. Nothing is working.

Over the loud background music and the dramatic screaming from your lap top, you don’t hear the front door of your apartment opening.

Nolan stands by the door, closing it behind him. He walks slowly to your living room, finding an empty couch. He checks the kitchen, still nothing. So he walks to your bedroom.

It’s awfully strange to not have you right around the corner to welcome him home. He had never noticed it before, but it had become apart of his routine already.

He opens the bedroom door slowly and his eyes finally find you. The slight creak of the door makes you look away from the screen and look up to find your boyfriend staring down at you.

To Nolan’s confusion, you didn’t do your usual ritual of when you spot him. You didn’t get up from your bed and gave him a kiss or a hug, you just continued to lay there.

Your eyes go back to the screen, fighting off your tears once more, and you hear Nolan start taking his shoes off.

He doesn’t say anything, filling the room in its natural silence, and walks to your side of the bed.

“Scoot over.” He whispers over the sound coming from your laptop.

You move your computer first, moving it to Nolan’s side of the bed, as you crawl to the middle. He slides under the duvet and blanket and you turn around, deciding to face him.

Nolan lays on his side, elbow on your pillow as he holds himself up and rests his face on his fist. His eyes are on you, studying your face, the way your eyes are slightly swollen and watery and how your lips seem to always curve in a small pout.

“What happened?” He whispers, not wanting to break the silence.

“Had a bad day.” You whisper back, blinking your tears away.

“Was it college?” He asks, you nod, “A test?”

You nod again and soon his face changes into a pitiful scowl. He feels bad for you, especially after yesterday, when you were so excited to finally have time for yourself. All of it ruined just because your grades are coming back to you as negatives.

“The other assignment I did, like, 2 weeks ago?” You ask him to see if he remembers, and he nods, “Failed that one too.”

Your voice is broken, your chin is starting to shake. You’re a blink away from breaking down again and Nolan feels so helpless. He wishes he could help you with college, but his knowledge in whatever degree you’re dating is close to nothing.

“-And I fell outside, too.” You break his train of thought.

A dry chuckle escapes your lips as you bring your hands up to wipe away your tears, as if you’re forcing yourself to laugh at your problems.

“On the way home?”

You nod and wipe your tears again, soaking the ends of your sleeves.

“My day has just been so awful.” Your voice breaks, making Nolan’s chest squeeze in pain at the sound of it alone.

Without knowing what to say, Nolan wraps one of his arms around you and pulls you in closer. The feeling that comes with not having you hug him back right away is strange. It almost makes him feel heartbroken.

As your face rests over Nolan’s shirt, it’s like your body just gives it all out. You start crying again, sobbing as you let all your worries out, mumbling some stuff you’re not even sure what they mean. And Nolan just holds you close, resting his head against yours while laying kisses over your cheek, neck or over your hair.

It’s so hard to see you like this. It has happened before, it has, but it’s never this bad. Which doesn’t make it that easy to deal with.

Your sobs stop after some time, your breathing slows down back to normal and your body stops to shake. Nolan still holds you, comfortably smoothing your back with one of his hands over your sweatshirt.

You, finally, wrap one of your arms around his torso and just rest your body against his a little, while in complete silence.

“When’s your next test?” Nolan asks against the skin of your temple.

“In 4 weeks.” You answer.

“Any assignments between today and that test?” He asks and you shake your head, “Okay, so you have more than enough time to get prepared and do amazing on that test.”

A sudden warm, giddy feeling runs through you at his words, yet you only nod at what he says.

“I wish I could help you study, but I’m clueless with half of the words in your notes.” He jokes and your lips curve into a grin, “I can always be your reminder to go back to studying?”

“You’re going on a roadie next week.”

He shrugs.

“I can still call.”

You smile and lean your face back onto his chest.

“What about that fall? Are you okay?” He asks, lifting his head again to take a look at your face.

“I’m okay, now, yeah. It was just really embarrassing,” You answer back.

There’s a quick silence and you lift your chin to stare up at Nolan.

“Did something else happen?” He asks, just to make sure.

You do a quick shrug.

“No- I mean,” You correct yourself, “I did check my Instagram after getting home...”

“And... what happened?”

“Just- The usual stupid comments.” You whisper at him.

He analyzes your face for a few seconds and brings his hand up, wiping with his thumb the rest of the tears under your eyes.

“I know I shouldn’t have looked at them,” You scold yourself, “But I didn’t exactly do it on purpose. They were just... there, when I wanted to look back at some pictures.”

Nolan nods understandingly and rests his hand against your cheek, cupping it as his thumb caresses your skin continuously.

“What type of pictures?”

“Like, with our friends or just the two of us,” You shrug, again, “I was just looking for something to cheer me up, you know?”

He nods at you and a small grin lifts over your lips.

He doesn’t scold you in any way. Doesn’t judge you for being stuck in the middle of the hateful comments that don’t do nothing but bring others down. He sometimes finds himself in those black holes without even realizing, and when they do bring him down, you’re there for him to remind him who he really is. Not letting the comments get to him. He can’t do anything else but the same. Return the favor.

“Do you feel better now?” He says at a low voice, almost in a whisper.

“A bit, yeah.” You nod, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He answers.

In the comfortable silence and under his smoothing and loving touch, you prop yourself up with one arm, so your face is in front of Nolan’s, and you peck his lips. It’s a quick kiss, but one that makes you grin back at him.

“I love you.” You tell him.

“I love you too.”

You kiss again but this time, he holds the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him, making the kiss longer and letting it actually evolve into something more than a peck.

You kiss him back as his lips start to move against yours and your, only vacant, hand find its way to his side, almost as if pulling him in closer to you, even though you’re already glued together.

Nolan pulls back and looks back at you for a second.

“Want to go get lunch and then watch a movie?” He asks and your smile finds itself back on your face.

“I would love that.”

Is this good? I wrote it in between classes, while bored, so I hope it’s not too awful.

*First time writing for Nolan... I just had to do it, okay?*

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick imagines #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick x you #nolan patrick fanfic #nolan patrick fanfiction #nhl imagines #nolan patrick blurb #nolan patrick one shot

371 notes · View notes

najatheangel · 3 years

Text

genre: fluff, drama, and comedy. high school au!

pairing: Choi San x Reader

author's note: apart of the Ateez Summer Collab hosted by @bangchan-fairy My first official posted collab please let me know what you guys think. Enjoy your summer! ✨

word count: 5.3k

summary: After slacking off junior year and struggling to juggle responsibilities, you're stuck retaking your math course in the summer. With your future on the line, you were stuck with San to work together with you so you both can pass this summer course as seniors. You two seem to have a hard time focusing on your studies. Is it because you don't understand the work or a certain someone that's distracting you

taglist: @purplepsycho03 @melonmochimoon @neptunehobi @soleilsuhh @dundun-baby @kpopsnowball (Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the tag list.)

Your stepmom Maria seemed to be very disappointed in you once again for letting her down this year. She had planned so many family trips, vacations, and hangouts for the whole family to enjoy this summer, but thanks to my failing this dumb math class, I have to be stuck in this school until July.

“You better be lucky I can afford for you to retake this class. Your reckless behavior has gone on long enough.” Your mom walks beside you upstairs inside Walnut Hills Highschool making sure you don’t skip out on the first day of summer school.

“Mom, you know you don’t have to walk me to class. I know what I’m doing!” You groan at her as she links her arms with you in the hallway.

“Clearly you don’t! If you did you wouldn’t be stuck here retaking this class. Now we’re almost there so keep your head high and lose the tude.”

There it was class 2A once again. This class was an absolute nightmare. I took a deep breath and slid the door open slowly with my eyes halfway open anxious to see who was sitting in the classroom.

“Welcome back miss Y/LN! Good seeing you again.” Mr. Harris said with a smile. This sucker, you had a love-hate relationship with Mr. Harris. You loved the fact that he was super nice and helpful when he was your English tutor freshman year, but you hated how he had a crush on your mom and how weird teacher-parent conference meetings would get when they would sneak off with each other in his office.

“Good morning Mr. Harris. Good seeing you again.” Your mom blushed to try to contain her excitement, but it was too obvious. “Anyways I’ll be heading my way out. She’s all yours for the summer.” Your mom gave you one last hug and kiss on the cheek before she left.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, fanning yourself already sweating from the classroom’s lack of cold air blowing. You complained again by saying.“Mr. Harris, are we staying in this room all summer? I’m sweating like a fat pig.”

“Unfortunately, yes. The PCs in the computer lab have been shut down and the school plans on replacing them with apple PCs by august. So these are the cards we’ve been dealt with. Let’s get started shall we.”

All the students in the classroom sighed, taking sips of their water bottles as Mr. Harris took attendance.

“Let’s see...We have Angela, Oliver, Chris, Yui, Y/N...Who’s missing? Choi San?”

“Here.” San slams the door open, arriving 20 minutes late with his chocolate milk in one hand and a glazed donut in the other. “Sorry Mr. Harris, I’ve overslept.”

Mr. Harris sighs, shaking his head, chuckling to calm himself down. “As expected. Just glad that you’re here, please have a seat.”

There was only one seat left which was in the front next to you and that would of course be his assigned seat for the rest of the summer.

You never heard much of San except everyone saying that he dropped out sophomore year.

You remember having a crush on him during freshman orientation when you both were shadowed by this kid named Lee Know. The whole time you were quiet, but you remembered staring at the handsome devil strutting in his uniform the whole time.

So to see him once again took you and everyone by surprise.

“Class, make sure you remember your partner’s name sitting next to you for this summer because you will work together in order to pass this class.”

“Say what?” You look over at San, who was making origami at his desk. “Good seeing again kid.” He smirks at you leaving you speechless. “Want a donut?” He reached out, handing a piece to you.

You were slamming your head on the desk thinking to yourself. “Mom, I know I promised I would finish this class, but I don’t know if I can...”

Mr. Harris had you paired up in groups of two to complete a series of word problems and online on this website called Pearson. On the bright side, walnut hills provided MacBooks for students that didn’t have their laptop, but of course, if they tried to watch Netflix, facetime with their friends, or search for something inappropriate, their laptop will be shut down for 24 hours until further notice.

The first two weeks were pretty quiet between you and San because both of you aren’t necessarily the best conversation starters and whenever San would ask you something it would only just help him cheat on an assignment or help him make up an excuse to skip class. Up until the third week hit you had enough of his excuses trying to avoid doing the work.

The third week you were assigned to work on three hours of pre-cal on the computer and you had the option to locate to a different classroom of course if you couldn’t focus in a cramped room full of sweaty students. So you and san decided to work in the math lab across from class 2A and try to work out a plan.

“Listen San I know this class is our worst enemy, but I promised my mom I would graduate next year and If I have to restart my junior year again I would die of embarrassment. So please try a little harder.” San sighs nodding to your proposal looking deeply into your eyes.

“Fine. I guess I’m in the same boat. I figured retaking junior year would make my mom mad too.” He reaches his hand shaking it with yours smiling.

Your heart starts pounding pretty fast as you're exchanging the agreement with San and you gaze your eyes back at the computer again clearing your throat.

“So, all we have to do is remember the methods Mr. Harris taught us and we'll be alright. What section are we on?” San scrolls through his laptop trying to login into his Pearson account. “I believe it's section 3.A. 20 questions which are due this Friday?! Man, Mr. Harris won’t give us a break.”

You giggled at his surprised reaction. Sometimes he can be soft which makes you melt inside even more. It made you wonder why he was always hanging around with the rebels with no future at school. Maybe life at home was rough and he didn’t have a lot of friends. All these questions were running through your head, which made you not realize that San suddenly moved closer to you.

“You need help with that problem? You were staring blankly at the screen for the past 10 minutes. Here let me show you how to do this.” San wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to writing the answer problem step by step to help you understand it better, but that wasn’t exactly helping.

All you were doing was admiring his beautiful face to face. It made you remember the first time you saw him with his glowing melon skin, sharp jawline, the way he can pull off a white collar and a striped tie it just seemed impossible.

On top of that his knowledge in math made him 10x more attractive, but you couldn’t understand why someone as brilliant and essential as him set himself up in the wrong crowd and stuck in this situation that cost him his high school diploma.

“So that’s how you get y= 18 + 15x. Any questions?” “Yeah, why the hell are you so fine. Forget Mr. Harris, you can be my tutor.” Would’ve sounded better in your head, but you accidentally said it out loud.

San looked at you with his eyes flashing open and then he burst out laughing. “Well Ms. Y/LN if I knew you were having this much fun, I would’ve signed up for this a long time ago.”

“Same here. You know I didn’t think math was your thing. How come you're so good at it?” He sighs, leaning looking up at the ceiling as his mood changes very quickly. “My dad is an entrepreneur and a CEO of his own company.

He’s very good at math so he taught me at an early age so someday I can take over his company someday. He’s never home at times either so I’m pretty much always helping my friends with their math homework as a side hustle.”

“That must be tiring. I know that must be a lot of pressure for a 17-year-old.” San nods his head in agreement and says “It is, but hey that’s what I’ve been dealing with all my life. We got to finish these questions so we can go home early.” With the both of you panicking you turn back to your computers finishing the last set of problems.

You were having so much fun at school with San that you forgot you had to make it to dinner on time with your wicked stepmother. Ever since you’ve started your sophomore year at Walnut Hills your father was keeping his dating life a secret until he unexpectedly announced that he wanted to marry Maria. Your dad was always the playboy so it always would irritate you whenever he brings another woman into the picture.

Your father planned on marrying Maria by the time you’ve graduated high school, but that all ended in tragedy when your father one day died in a car accident on the way to your volleyball game. This is why you quitted sports, fell out with your best friends, and flunked almost all your classes. Maria has always shown tough love even when your dad was around, but that’s because she never knew what it was like to raise children and she wanted to learn to become closer to your family, but your relationship with her was always rocky.

Arriving late at night you’ve run to your house sweating and panting to your angry stepmom in the kitchen tapping her foot.

“Y/N, do you know what time it is? School ended at 5. Why are you late for dinner? This better is good missy.” You caught your last breath and then rolled your eyes at Maria’s snarky comment. “Me and my partner in my class took longer than expected to finish our assignment. Sorry, okay?”

You’ve slammed your backpack on the back of your chair and grabbed a plate of yong chow rice to eat with your family. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me? I just asked a simple question. Don’t tell me your working with that Choi San guy?”

You shook your head as you started to feel yourself explode at the dinner table, but you let her finish. “I know that because Mr. Harris told me. Look all I’m saying is you better stay concentrated on getting out of summer school and don’t fool around with these boys. Got it?”

You’ve finally snapped and stood up slamming the table with your fists. “You know what, I don’t understand why you're nagging me about every little thing going on in my life. You can’t just be proud that I finished my assignments for this week. But, no you keep finding ways to complain to me about me not working hard enough or messing around. I’m getting really tired of it. That’s why I hate it here!”

“Y/N! Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.” She followed you all the way upstairs until you closed the door and locked it in her face. You were too tired and frustrated to be dealing with her constant ranting so you’ve just sat in your room, put your AirPods on, and blocked her yelling from the background. “We’ll talk about this another day. Psh teenagers.”

For the rest of the night, you smush your face in your pillow crying yourself to sleep. You look back on the polaroids of your dad around your room and through your phone missing his presence in your home. “Dad, why did you leave me alone with her? If it was just the three of us, things would be so different. I miss you.”

Your partnership with San seemed to improve drastically which was surprising, to say the least. All the other kids in the class however didn’t seem to improve. Some were either cheating or missing the deadlines. Mr. Harris was not pleased by the results so he found other alternatives.

“You know what class, here’s what we’re about to do. To make this a lot more fun, how about we do class activities for extra credit. Since some of you are glued to your devices nowadays we can play games like Kahoot, Jenga, and Tetris to answer questions. I can even narrow down the questions on the assignments. How does that sound?” Everyone in class chants and cheers loving the idea which keeps them even more motivated to continue working.

“Alright everyone the games won’t start today, but next week. This is the last week of June and summer school so that means we’re halfway there from finishing. You cannot screw this up. Try acing this week’s quiz with 90% everyone or no games for those with below 70%. Got it?” “Yes, Mr. Harris!” You’ve become closer to the class since it was only nine of you, but your best friends are Angela, San, and Chris. The four of you stopped for ice cream after school to study for this week’s big math test that covered five sections.

“Gosh, Mr. Harris put 40 questions on the test! What the hell is he on crack?”

Everyone laughed at Chris complaining. He would always try to find shortcuts just so he can finish playing PubG, but he always ends up getting in trouble because he procrastinates too much. The only reason he’s somewhat doing well is because of his girlfriend Angela.

She was always a straight-A student and a bit of a geek at school, but outside of school, she was a baddie. She ended up having to retake pre-cal because she wanted to offer to help Chris with homework but ended up failing with him. “Oh hush it’s not even that bad. If you would’ve done those practice problems like you were told, you wouldn’t be complaining so much.” She slaps the back of Chris' head making him spat out his dip cone.

San looks at them admiring their silly dysfunctional relationship and then looks at you mesmerized. He leans in whispering in your ear saying “Why can’t we be more like them. They’re cute together.” You turned to him, slapping his shoulder softly giggling. “We shouldn’t. We agreed to only focus on school, remember?” He looks at you pouting “Does it have to be strictly about work? Like Mr. Harris said, we can have fun with it. We are partners after all.”

You look to the side trying to avoid his gaze as you take another spoonful of mint cocoa. With your sloppy spoonful of ice cream leftover on your face, San quickly grabbed a napkin from the table and whipped your face. “Be careful, you had a little mint chocolate on your face.” He kissed the side of your lips and smirked at you right afterward leaving everyone shocked.

“You guys are hot together.”

Chris with no filter shouted out leaving you a blushing mess. You quickly grabbed your ice cream and backpack as you heard your stepmom pulling up at the dairy parking lot. “You know what duty calls. I’ll meet you guys at the same time tomorrow at San’s place just like we planned. I gotta shave my legs. Later!” San wanted to grab your arm real quick to give you a proper goodbye, but you already beat him to it by sprinting to the car.

“Honey, why did you run in the car so fast? You would have finished your ice cream-”

“No time for that, just drive Mom.” Maria laughs looking at you covering your face with your cardigan and looking at San’s pouting face playing with his spoon he just ate from his ice cream. “Reminds me of the good old days when I was in high school.” Your stepmom cranked the engine and drove all the way home.

When you arrived home you flopped your body on your bed trying to focus on finishing studying for your test by yourself, but all your thinking about San’s kiss replaying in your head over and over again. “Ugh that San man, why did his lips have to be so soft? I'm supposed to be finding the formula for x, not the formula to get into San’s heart.” You’ve pulled out your laptop attempting to send an email to Mr. Harris said that you wanted to switch partners, but you prevent yourself from pressing send through your mouse.

“There’s no point. We only have four more weeks plus he would be upset if I do that. I just need to calm down.” You’ve closed out of your email tab and finished your homework sinking in your thoughts.

“Dad, hey it’s me again, I just wanted to leave a voicemail letting you know that later on today I’ll be bringing my friends over to work on studying for our big test. It would be nice for you to meet them, but of course, I know work is more important. Anyways please come visit again sometime soon. Love you, peace.” San sighs, hanging up the phone as he sets the table up getting ready for you, Angela, and Chris to come over. San has always learned to live basically on his own growing up.

His father is always running off on business trips, his mother left him at a young age to marry a wealthy man and his older brother was already out of the country to join the Navy. His brother was the only person he can count on for family events when it came to birthdays, Christmas, and even father’s day. At least his brother could attend and catch up with his crazy high school life.

Snapping out of his train of thoughts he opens the door as soon as he hears the doorbell ring. “Coming!” He fixed his Pikachu long sleeve and parted his hair before he opened the door. He was smiling so wide after seeing it was you, Angela and Chris.

“C'mon in you guys. Welcome to mi palacio. Let’s study in the living room.”

Everyone ran to the living room pleased with the smell of pina colada candles filling the house. You were shocked that San got to live in this huge nicely decorated home yet you seem to notice that his family is not present.

You see picture frames of him when he was younger in a monster inc sitting on the fountain at Disneyland.

There was also another cute family photo of San’s best friend named Wooyoung that he met since kindergarten, but sadly they ended up cutting ties since they went to different schools.

A picture that stood out from all of them was one of him sitting on his mom’s lap when he was five smiling super hard with his pretty white smile. You’ve never seen him smile that hard and you were always curious more about his past so the family photos have shown a nice glimpse into his past “Hey y/n cmon I made some ramen. We have to pull out the flashcards so we can study.” “W-wait, but your baby pictures I want!” “No time we can look at them later.”

He winks and gently holds your hand and walks downstairs with you.

“Here goes the love birds. We have to try San’s famous spicy ramen dish before it gets too cold.” Everyone sits down at the dinner table clasping their hands together ready to dig in until the door opens.

“Surprise brother! Sorry I’m late. Did I miss dinner?” San’s brother Jinhyuk walks in with veggie wraps and steak bulgogi in his hand. San runs up to his brother hugging him super tight happier to see that he finally made it home. “Guys this is my brother Jinhyuk. Jinhyuk this is Chris, Angela, and Y/N.”

Jinhyuk smiles at everyone greeting everyone. “So what’s been going on with you guys? I know you have been stuck in school together, but what have you guys been doing outside of school?” Angela started by saying “Well so far me and Chris have been seeing each other every day. We always go to the park or the carnival when we get the chance for dates. We have also been hanging out with these two right here.”

Chris joined in saying “Exactly right. You can say we’re like the Scooby-Doo gang of course without scooby.” San laughs adding on “No way you’re definitely Scooby. Angela is Velma, I’m Freddy, and Y/N is Daphne.” Everyone at the table laughed as they enjoyed San’s ramen catching up with each other.

Jinhyuk elbows you as he chats with you in the kitchen. “Hey, I noticed that you were sitting there staring at my brother. What’s going on with you two.” Your eyes flashed wide open as you were surprised by Jinhyk’s sudden question. You faced him scratching the back of your head not knowing how to answer his question. “Well, I honestly don’t know. I think he just likes teasing me. One minute he flirts with me, the next minute he treats me like one of the guys. My mom also doesn’t want me getting distracted so I’m trying to keep my distance.”

Jinhyuk laughs and then pets your head. “Well, you both already failed at keeping your distance. I think he likes you, but since you keep running away or avoiding him too much, he feels like he’s making you uncomfortable and that you strictly want to stay as friends. I wouldn’t give him the wrong idea to be upfront about how you feel about him. You got this kid.” He grabs your empty bowl for you and washes the dishes giving you that boost of confidence. “You know what you're right. Mama didn’t raise no punk. I’ll tell him after we finish studying. Thanks, Jinhyuk I owe you the next time you visit.” You give him a thumbs up and skip happily out the kitchen looking forward to seeing your friends.

After hours of studying flashcards, everyone finally studied feeling confident in themselves about the final test of the semester. Everyone packed their things and was ready to head home since their parents were outside. You were the only one that still felt confident about your process throughout the class so you’ve decided to stay an extra hour to study with San.

“Are you sure this is right?” You put the pencil down crossing your fingers as San checks your work. “Wow yes, that is correct. See you’re doing just fine. You only got 7 wrong out of the 40 questions. Just keep using that method I taught you and you’ll be just fine.” San smiles at you pinching your cheeks. “It’s 10:30 pm. Your mom is going to be worried about you. You should start heading home. I'll drop you off.” San started putting his notebook and laptop back on his desk getting ready to leave his room, but you pull on his sleeve bringing him back down on the couch with you.

“Wait, um why don’t we watch a movie or something. My mom is out with Mr. Harris anyways they won’t be back until the morning. I kind of told her I was spending the night at my cousin’s house.”

San smiles, shaking his head gulping, sitting back down next to you. “That sounds nice and all, but I don’t want to get you in trouble. Plus you do realize you’re staying over at a boy’s house at night.” You lean your head on his shoulder holding his hand yawning. “I know I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything unless I told you I wanted to. Just for tonight please San?” San sighs, lifting your chin patting the back of your head. “Fine, but next time let me meet your mom. I want to know everything there is about you okay?” You nod linking pinkies with him. “Deal. Now let’s watch Money Heist Shall we?”

The next morning you wake up in San’s arms as you share a blanket on the living room couch. You woke up fixing his messy black hair struck by his sleeping face. “Gosh you're even more dreamy when you're sleeping.” You checked the time on your phone and realized what time it was.

Pre-cal normally starts around 10, it was 11:20. “San gets up, we're late for class! We can’t miss this one Mr. Harris is giving us get extra credit today.” San woke right up alert as he wiped the drool from the side of his mouth.

“Dang, we gotta go. Here brush your teeth real fast, brush your hair and let’s roll.”

The two of you got ready as fast you could and hopped right on his motorcycle speeding through the traffic throughout the city.

You wrapped your arms around San the whole time scared you’ll fall on the motorcycle. San felt so happy whenever you depended on him for anything. “God I love this girl. I know they say I’m too young or going too fast, but I can’t help it.” He mumbled under his breath as he arrived at the school.

“Well well if it isn’t San and Y/N. You better be lucky you didn’t miss the test. We just got done playing Kahoot.” The two of you poured with your heads looking down feeling ashamed as you walked to your seats. The two of you took one last glimpse of each before Mr. Harris handed out the test.

This was it after everything you’ve been through this past month with San and your friends. The hard work was going to determine if you actually made it through or not. Mr. Harris gave you a whisper of encouragement you never heard in a long time except for your dad. “Y/N no matter what happens I’ll always be proud of you. Finish this strong.”

Mr. Harris' words almost moved you to tears as you smiled and nodded your head right back at him. Now you understand why Maria loved him so much he was always passionate about teaching and cared about your well-being.

You grabbed your pencil and your laptop as you started getting to work. The whole time you were nervous and a few questions caused you to slip up, but in the end, you remembered how to do most of the work. San seemed to be holding up just fine so you weren’t too worried about him, Angela would always double-check her work before turning it in and Chris was surprisingly focused the whole time.

As everyone finished their tests Mr. Harris checked everyone’s grades one by one slowly seeing their process.

He stands up taking off his glasses and says. “Class...congratulations on becoming seniors! Everyone has passed summer school. See you in the fall.”

Everyone screamed cheering as the paper was flying and everyone in the classroom cheered. “Yeah, you guys hang out at the carnival!” Chris screamed and everyone followed him out.

Before catching up with everyone you called your stepmom to tell her the good news with Mr. Harris next to you.

“Mom, I finally passed. Dad’s face right now you know he’s probably crying. It was all thanks to Mr. Harris too, he's the best teacher ever.”

You can hear your mom’s voice on the other end as she gets teary-eyed. “Your dad would definitely be so happy that you passed, but also pissed because he never wants you in summer school ever again.” The three of you laugh together as you share the happy news.

“I’m so sorry I doubted you and was super harsh y/n. I love you and just want you to succeed. Your my only banana muffin I got in this world so don’t pull off any dumb crap like this ever again.”

“Yes mom, you know I will. I made a promise to dad after all. I will graduate and stay close to you if it’s the last thing I do. Love you, I'm going to the carnival with my friends.”

Maria makes kissy noises back and says “I love you too. Don’t stay out too late. Matter of fact I’ll meet you there since me and Harris have a date anyways. See you there.” You hang up feeling emotional as you hug Mr. Harris.

Mr. Harris pats you on the back saying “Didn’t I tell you she’s very proud. Now I think you need to catch up with your friends before he leaves without you. I’ll meet you at the carnival.” Mr. Harris leaves the classroom giving you one last smile and heading out.

You walked in the hallway looking all around the school for San, luckily you found him in the science lab where he’s sitting by the window with a sad look on his face.

“San. We’ve gotta meet up with everyone at the carnival. Why are you here by yourself?”

San sighs, crossing his arms.

“There’s no point in celebrating. I tried reaching out to both of my parents to tell them about one of the biggest accomplishments in my life and as usual, they didn’t answer.” You sat right next to him at the window petting his head. “You know what, how dare they? Forget them.

You have a supportive big brother, an amazing group of friends, and the best teacher a school could ever ask for. You have a family right here and we’re proud of you.”

San lifts his head up as he sees your bright smile that always makes him helpless.

“You always know exactly what to say. What would I do without you?”

He links pinkies with you. “I really can’t wait for you to meet my stepmom. She gets on my nerves sometimes and we always tend to bump heads, but we always come right back together. Dad would’ve also loved you. He was always straight to the point and never held back. I loved that confidence he always had.”

“Oh yeah he did get into that accident last year, I’m so sorry about that.”

You shake your head “It’s alright, I’m still holding up just fine. I’m just happy to have you here with me plus I get to be seniors with you and everyone else.” San looks up at you one last time slowly leaning his face close to yours until your noses touch.

“Gosh, I wonder what would happen if I made out with Y/N in the science lab? The janitor would for sure catch us in the act.” You giggle flirting with him back.

“The only thing he would have to worry about cleaning up is the kiss marks that are going to be on your neck.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were this playful. I love seeing this side of you.”

The two of you finally exchange a short yet sweet kiss in the orange sunset peeking against the window. It was going to last longer until Angela and Chris crashed the party with a loud knock on the door.

“Hurry up Freddy and Daphne the Scooby gang has to pull up at the carnival together. You guys can finish eating each other's faces off in the car. We can’t miss the flight of fear!”

The two of you looked at each other shrugging and walked together hand in hand out the classroom. “Well, I guess we will have to finish this on the carousel.” “Indeed, that sounds more romantic than making out while being surrounded by jars of disinfected frogs in the science lab.”

The two of you catch up with the rest of the seniors of class 2021 as you look forward to your last summer as juniors together. Today was going to be the day where you go all out and live like you're gonna die young.

120 notes · View notes

seijorhi · 4 years

Note

hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !

Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation

Helping Hand

There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.

It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.

Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.

Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.

So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?

You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice.

Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.

“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”

His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise.

Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.

You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot.

It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”

You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.

You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole.

Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.

The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.

It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-

Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one.

- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.

It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.

No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror.

He hasn’t moved.

He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?

W-why isn’t he moving away?

Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.

“Wh-”

A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”

He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”

With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort.

It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.

Will he hurt you if you try and resist?

Is he gonna hurt you anyway?

You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...

Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-

Your stomach drops.

Weeks.

He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.

His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness.

A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more.

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.

A faint burst of hope flickers to life.

You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.

Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.

What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.

Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.

It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.

Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.

While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.

The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.

The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.

Why you?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this?

“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.

You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-

Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”

He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.

Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.”

Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.

He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.

And really, what other choice do you have?

It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes.

Only for a moment.

Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-

Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s.

“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.

The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.

The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”

His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kenma #yandere kenma x reader #yandere #yandere kuroo tetsuro #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #female reader #yandere kenma kozume #yandere kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kuroo x reader #tw dub con #tw implied stalking #tw humiliation #kuroo x reader x kenma

1K notes · View notes

babytaes · 3 years

Text

Serenity

➳ 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You run into an old friend on the way to pick up your delivery, who seems to be waiting for his pizza as well.

❥ 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: joshua x female reader

❥ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: college au, fluff, slice of life

❥ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3K

➳ part of the song series

↳ I was hoping it'd be different when I saw you but it feels the same

Never changed

I was certain I'd flushed you out my system

But you're printed in my DNA

Your head slammed onto the desk as a wave of exhaustion washed through you. Professors enjoy assigning all of this work and expect it to be completed promptly. Sadly, I'm not a genie who can just wish it away.

When you turned around to face your roommate, who seemed to be in the same situation as you, a low growl came from her throat. To see if she was awake, you threw a pen at her back.

Without even looking up a small moan struggled to come out as she turned to face you.

As you stared at the disheveled state in front of you, a gasp echoed from your throat.

“Damn, you got it rough. Maybe more than me.”

She flung your pen back at you with a sly smile on her lips, dodging to the left as it hurled at your face. This was so out of character for both of you. Although both of you had great study habits in high school, junior year of college was beating your asses. Like kicking it.

You grunted as you walked over to your bed and plopped down to relieve some stress, grabbing the stray books and hurling them onto the floor

Seon-ah chuckled and twirled her pen in her chair as she examined your body, which was still but also very tense.

“Hey, how about we unwind for a while and maybe get a bite to eat? You know food will give us more energy and willpower to finish these last few class assignments. What do you say?"

She closed her eyes and crossed her fingers in an attempt to sway you. Fortunately, you just let her win today, as shown by your growling stomach. For most days, you wouldn't eat or take a rest until all of your work was completed. Was it beneficial to you? Perhaps not, but it did motivate you to complete the task quickly.

You propelled yourself up and toward your laptop, raising a fist in the air.

“What a great idea, Seon-ah; how about some pizza? I'll pay for it.”

As a thank you, she squealed and jumped up and down in her chair, giving you spontaneous heart signals.

You smiled as you rolled your eyes at her and turned your attention to the computer in front of you. It was almost as though you could taste it. The buttery fluffy crust melting in your mouth as the various spices and flavors swirl around inside. Anyway...

“I'm getting our usual Moe's pizza with pineapple and pepperoni. Will be in 15 minutes. Let the break time commence ”

Seon-ah spun around and looked at you with a worried expression on her face.

"This is not the Hunger Games, Y/N?”

You threw your pillow at her as she laughed and walked over to her side of the room, sitting down on the bed, resting her eyes.

“Wake me up when the food arrives; in the meantime, I'll get some beauty rest.”

You snickered as you returned your gaze to your phone, which you had started idly scrolling through on social media, silently saying.

“You could use it.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

Rather than waiting in your bed, you could wait near the door for easier access to the food. When you turned around and saw that Seon-ah was still sleeping, you decided to wake her up when you returned with the goodies.

You quickly gather your slides, key card, and phone, as well as a few dollars for the tip. Before heading down to the lobby to get your food, you double-checked to see if the door was locked.

You put your earbuds in and press play on your latest playlist, which included some of your favorite tracks. On the way to the downstairs lobby you did a little jig.

As you came off the stairwell, a pair of men's eyes fell on you. Not only were you dancing a little too good, but you never expected to see this person in a while. When you began walking over to him, he smiled and grinned as you quickly removed your earbuds.

“Hey there... Long time no see. I hope you didn't witness that."

He laughed and shook his head as he waved his hand at you.

“How are you doing? I saw some of it, sadly. Wonderful moves.”

It felt like your heart was racing faster than normal, something it didn't usually do unless you were taking a test. However, as you stared at him longer, things began to seep back into your heart.

You coughed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to say something to ease the awkward tension in the air.

“So-”

“Wha-”

He laughed at you and extended his hand to you, signaling that you should begin.

“What brings you here, Joshua, at this fateful hour of ten o'clock?”

He sighed and cocked his head to the side, a habit you're never tired of seeing.

“Well, Jeonghan and I wanted to order pizza, and he agreed that I should wait downstairs for it. I think he just wanted to stay in the dorm, like a lazy ass.

You chortled.

“You did always say he was some lazy bum, but I'm shocked you stuck with him this long.”

Joshua sighed as he remembered all of the times he spent with Jeonghan and his other friends, a time when you and he were never apart.

We're going to be late for orientation if you don't hurry up, Y/N.” You mentally flipped him off and dashed out of your dorm, trying to keep all of your things in your arms as you slammed the door shut.

“Josh, you should have given me another 5 minutes.”

“An extra five minutes would have put us late, and well we...., I can't afford that

“Oh shut up Hong, shall we bring up the Milk situation, or are you done?”

Joshua came to a complete stop and rolled his eyes at you as he waited for you to catch up to him. As you laughed, he softly shoved you.

“I thought I told you not to bring that up anymore, and Seungcheol texted me and told us to meet them at the square,”

You laughed as you shook your head and grabbed Joshua's hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Well, we'd better get moving. Mr. 5 Minutes,”

He looked up from his sullen expression when he saw you looking at him. He blushed when he realized you were here, rather than in his memories

“Well, before I tell you how I'm doing, tell me how you're doing. I believe we haven't talked since Freshman year. A time"

You coughed and tapped your leg quickly, avoiding Joshua's eyes as you crossed over to the chair on the other side of him and sat down to get a closer look at him while mentally preparing some responses.

“You're right; I'm not sure why I'm so jittery. It's not like we were best friends at one point in our lives.”

When you folded your hands and mentally slapped yourself, a hushed silence fell over you both.

As you started, a nervous chuckle escaped your mouth

“Anyway, remember when I told you a long time ago when I wanted to start my business. Well, Seon-ah and I we're planning to apply to the Startup Fund next week for more details. If you know someone who enjoys such things, please forward this message to them.”

Joshua turned his body to face you further and shook his head, watching as your hand movement flowed as you continued to speak about the business concept. It's as if you two reconnected on a more simple level.

You looked up to see him studying your hand movement patterns, which made you come to a halt while you folded your hands as you turned away from his eyes.

“I apologize for rambling; I just get too excited talking about this with someone other than Seon-ah.”

“No, it's all right. You can proceed; I missed this.”

A gulp ran down his throat as he coughed, signaling that he needed some water. He excused himself and walked a few feet away from the lobby to the water fountain.

Great going Josh

You stood there watching as he walked over to the water fountain, hearing some mumbling but not understanding what he was saying. Instead of focusing on him, you turned your attention to yourself.

Y/N, you’re acting like a fool. He is, well was your friend. It's complicated, you know Joshua.

When you remembered why you were here, you felt a wave of calm wash over you. The DAMN PIZZA. You leapt to your feet and quickly opened your phone, where you discovered a text message.

Food is Delivered.

You let out a squeal as you walked over to the door and checked to see if the Pizza car was still waiting for you. You walked over to the car, gleefully handing him the money and thanking him for the meal.

You swiped your card and walked in the entrance, oblivious to Joshua and preoccupied with the food you were about to consume. You noticed something out of the corner of your eye as you heard him say.

“Y/N, what happened to us?

As a single tear fell from your eyes, you came to a halt and sighed, trying to catch your breath. You brushed it away and slowly turned to Joshua, feeling down and disappointed that your pizza had to wait.

As you began to approach Joshua, you let out a long-awaited sigh. You and he were like best friends for a long time. You'd meet in your freshman year of college and clicked right away. He not only exhibited a gentleman's aura, but he was also very accommodating and polite when you first met him. Despite the fact that he had some noisy and strange friends, they added to the magic.

Although life seemed to be so fine and enjoyable for you, things soon became hectic.

It was the day before your class's annual retreat to Jeju Island, where all Sophomores attended. Unfortunately, your presentation lasted longer than anticipated, and you were forced to give it on the day they all left. You weren't upset because this was something you'd always wanted to do, and you could see the possibilities opening up if you succeeded.

For Joshua, though, this was a missed opportunity to tell you how he felt about your relationship. His heart was in the right place, but the wording was incorrect. You'd stopped by his dorm to borrow a few things before heading to class.

“Why don't you just miss this one and come along with us on this trip?” You're going to miss out on all the fun we're having.”

You scoffed when you turned around.

“You know I can't do that; this presentation is half of my grade, and it has the potential to greatly expand my business opportunities.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes without pausing to reflect.

“Why waste your time."

You turned around, stunned at what he had just said, and stopped looking for a jacket.

"Excuse me, wasting my time. Unlike you, I am not well-off and do not come from a wealthy family. There are still people who still have to struggle for their goals. I apologize if this is a "waste of time," but this is a serious matter and a dream of mine. You know what, fuck you and your jacket. I'll ask Seon-ah."

You rolled your eyes and walked out the door, completely deaf to his summons.

“I didn't mean it that way; I merely-”

You came to a halt and yelled back at him.

“Why don’t you just enjoy this “once in a lifetime trip” without me, and when you come back just go on without your life. I guess my priorities and life are now meaningful enough for you."

As you ran to your dorm, you shed a tear as your heart was crushed. Your last ray of hope for each other was shattered. You couldn't love someone who didn't understand the importance of your dream

The rain began to fall as you rushed into your dorm hall, weeping. At the very least, you had faith in yourself, and that is all that matters.

“If you're thinking about that incident, you should know that I didn't mean what I said at the time. That was a huge mistake on my part, and sophomore Joshua was a dick, and I really want to apologize for it. I didn't know how important this was to you until seeing it up close. I can see now how dedicated and enthusiastic you are about your business. And I genuinely want to say I am so sorry for the way I behave. That still doesn't help me understand why we didn't, you know, get back together as friends.

As you quickly turned away from him, a tear spilled from your eye, which you quickly wiped away. You smiled and raised your eyes to him. His gaze was still drawn to your altered demeanor. That was one of his best qualities: he could always tell when you weren't feeling yourself.

“Hey, if it's too difficult for you to talk about, we can just forget about it and go our separate ways, if that what ”

You went on, waving your hand at him and taking a breath.

“Well, I can only tell you my side of the story; I have no idea why. I guess I didn't mean it when I told you to stay out of my life. I guess I got caught up in the midst of it all. Even though I nailed the presentation, I apologize for blowing up at you. I know you were trying to help me relax, but sophomore me mistook it for you trying to restrain me.”

As you began to choke up your words, your breath began to hitch in your throat. Joshua came up to you and put his hand on your shoulder, attempting to calm you down.

You leaped to your feet and backed away from him, wiping tears from your eyes, trying to catch your breath.

“Please-ee, just stop. Stop doing that .”

"Doing what Y/N, what is going on?"

“Why aren't you angry at me if, stop being so nice to me?"

As soon as you saw him move, you fell to your knees, weeping. He was embracing you and turning your head to see what was wrong quickly. You started spitting out words he couldn't understand. He kissed you instead of trying to learn.

“Wha-”

He cupped your face with his hands as you held on to his shirt for support. Something inside of you just exploded, and it felt as though your heart had been set free. You took a step back and realized he was tearing up. As you brushed away the stray tears. You gazed into his brown eyes as he cupped your hands and kissed them.

“I've always wanted to do that; forgive me for not asking first.

“No, it's fine; in truth, that's something I've always wanted to do.”

He gasped as he processed what you had just said and looked up at you.

“Wait, don't say you had a thing for me.”

You chuckled as you brushed away the remaining tears with your sleeve and walked back to the coach section.

“Yes, Joshua, literally half the campus has had a crush on Mr. Gentleman, although you are definitely the opposite sometimes. "

“Hey, don't try to ruin my reputation around here,” he said, laughing. “I am undoubtedly a gentleman.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his expression for a few more minutes, just soaking up the newfound bond that had just re-emerged.

Before you could take your gaze away from him, he shook his head and found your staring eyes. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into another embrace. You had a big smile on your face the whole time, holding him tightly.

“So are we good, 'cause you were definitely into that kiss."

You slapped his chest and peered up from his chest.

“Yeah, we're good, friends again.” You extended your hand to him, and he enthusiastically shook it.

"Also I was thinking we can be more than friends."

You stopped breathing for a second and processed his request, you laughed and shoved him.

"You’ve gotta ask me out properly. I'm going to forget you said that and be more surprised when you ask again."

Joshua nodded his hand and went in for another hug. Your hand abruptly landed on his chest as you remembered.

“WAIT, OUR FOOD."

You turned around and dashed to the once-steamy box, only to find a cold but still warm pizza waiting for you. You peered at Joshua, who dashed out the door and returned with his dinner, smiling fondly at you.

“I forgot we came to get our food; I've got to get this to Seon-ah; she's probably awake and hungry.”

He grinned and walked up to you, kissing your forehead before taking your hand in his and directing you to take the lead. You laughed and blushed with embarrassment when he finally saw you in all your glory.

You hastily dragged him up the stairwell and toward your dorm. You were both awkwardly still, not wanting this moment to end. You lifted your head from your trembling hands and kissed his nose before waving goodbye and entering your room. You slid to the ground, pondering what the HELL just happened.

Joshua, on the other hand, pumped a fist in the air and headed back to his dorm, grinning from ear to ear!

You regained control and put the pizza down as you stepped forward to see a groggy Seon-ah waking up, rubbing her eyes, and yawning at you.

"Damn you took a long time, did they get our order wrong? You had better not eat without me."

You chuckled and pushed the box to the center of the table, taking a breath as you tried to process what had just happened.

“Oh, I've got something to tell you while you eat. You have no idea who I just ran into. Come closer, it's going to be a good one.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

#Seventeen #svt #seventeen fics #seventeen series #seventeen joshua #joshua hong #svt joshua #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen crack #seventeen au #seventeen reactions #seventeen writers #seventeen x female reader #kpop #seventeen masterlist #babytaes works

73 notes · View notes

thestraggletag · 3 years

Text

Roll for Initiative, a Rumbelle D&D Fic

Summary: Tales of the Enchanted Forest was the hottest online D&D game, in part for its charismatic players, in part for the twisted turns of the DM's mind and in part because of the outrageous chemistry between its greatest OTP, the party's beautiful bard and the Dark One, an anti-hero side-character who is there to provide information and uncomfortable levels of UST. Mr Gold thinks it's a harmless flirtation that could never become anything else, just like his silly little crush on the town librarian, Belle French.

He's wrong.

Rating: Explicit.

Author’s Note: Surprise, @argoslight, it is I, your Gifter! Sorry to make you wait till near the end but I just had way more banter to write in me than I thought. I hope you enjoy your gift. I’m so sorry to not be able to add more D&D elements but since I don’t play I don’t have a lot of idea of what could be done. Also I apologise for any mistakes! And thanks so much to @little-inkstone for her help and D&D knowledge.

The castle was quiet when she entered, her steps echoing against the stone. It was gloomy inside, curtains obscured and decor sparse and sombre, the castle living up to its name. But there were flowers on the table, moon lilies, her favourite flower. They bloomed only in the Eastern Mountains past the Old Wall, but she had long since suspected he grew some on one of his enchanted hothouses, with the excuse of using them for potions.

“Where’s the rest of your pretty little troop of do-gooders, dearie?”

The voice came out of nowhere, echoing around the empty halls of the castle. Thankfully she did not need directions, knowing exactly when to turn and where to go. Soon she found herself in a vast room, with a table on the centre and curios filled with oddities and the like. Some others were displayed on pedestals, including a rather fearsome sword and a nasty-looking crown made of thorns. None of the artefacts were what she sought, but she was not there to bargain for an item, but rather for information.

“Off on their own quests, taking care of other things that need doing.”

The voice tsked, seeming not to approve.

“They let you enter the lair of the beast alone? Some heroes.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak and walked towards the unlit chimney. Immediately a fire blazed to life, as if the castle itself was trying to cater to her comfort. The fire provided much-needed light as well, revealing the profile of a man in the shadows. Or something that looked like a man, at least, if not for the reflective scales that covered his body and its strange eyes: gold irises around catlike pupils.

“I asked to come alone. I felt like we could talk more openly this way.”

She removed her cloak, ostensibly to drape it across a chair near the fire and let it dry. The creature, however, seemed to read more into the gesture, tsking again.

“You come here all alone, a pretty little lamb, and take off the only real bit of protection you have. Reckless, dearie, most reckless.”

The creature stood up, walking slowly towards the light, revealing more of its form as it approached her. Leather pants and a long, reptilian-looking vest and coat. It wasn’t particularly tall but power emanated from it in suffocating waves. She closed her eyes, finding his cloying presence strangely comforting. Then again, she had always been odd.

“Once again your pitiful little party of friends needs my help. How they weigh you down, Beauty.”

He stepped fully into the light then, revealing a being more creature than man, the reptilian skin and claws as off-putting as his unnatural eyes. She should’ve taken a step back, should’ve gone for her blade or the dagger tucked into her left boot, but she didn’t. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she felt at ease in his presence. Well, perhaps not quite. She certainly felt a strange sort of anxiousness in his presence, a fluttery sort of feeling that she attributed to being particularly attuned to his magic. None of the other members of her party felt that way. If anything, he repulsed them, which wasn’t something she could understand. To her he was… magnetic.

“Are you in the mood for dealing or not? I can trade for information.”

He snorted.

“With what? Your little band of misfits is dirt poor. That idiotic paladin of yours ruined your last mission. You really should think about ditching the man. All brawn, no brains. At least your rogue is a smart woman.”

His gaze left her briefly, running down the length of her clothing: sturdy black boots, a nicely-cut dress that stopped around the knees and a sturdy belt with a few pockets for her spells. But the clothing, as well-made as it was, was dated, old. Looked worn and was signed and stained in places, and it left a lot of her frail human skin exposed. She had not been able to afford an upgrade in a while, preferring to spend her coin in what could benefit the group.

His moue of distaste disappeared once his eyes fell on her cloak. Well, his cloak, since he had been the one to make it. It was a lovely thing in varied shades of green, shot through with golden thread, his trademark. She had bought it off him a long time ago, a simple thing to keep her warm during cold nights and dry when it rained. Miraculously, though, it also did not sustain damage, looking exactly the same as when she had first put it on.

“I’m glad at least my protection is serving you well.”

He ran a claw along the seams of the cloak, making it glitter, like to like, magic calling for its own. He looked smug, as if pleased she was wearing something he had made.

“It does more than we bargained for. I’ve been blasted with magic strong enough to burn through most fabric but it has not even frayed. How strange of you, Rumplestiltskin, to lose out on a deal.”

He shivered when she said his name, walking behind her to the safety of the shadow she cast next to the fire.

“Can’t help it if my magic is just that powerful, my dear. I’m glad you are a happy customer. Always thought that cloak was a nice bit of magic. Can’t fault you for always wearing it.”

She felt him close in on her from behind, to the point that it almost felt like they were touching.

“It smells like you. That’s why I wear it all the time.”

The noise he made behind her was inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a growl. His claws scrapped against the back of her dress, the feeling muted by her stays, but she could feel his breath against the back of her neck and that alone was-

“Hey, this is a decent stream! Keep it PG for the kids, you weirdos.”

“Damn it, Grumpy, I wanted to see how long it would take them to snap out of it!”

“Sorry, Snow, but I ate a big dinner and I aim to keep it down.”

The messages in the chatroom wheezed by, mostly disgruntled complaints about their OTP never catching a break. The other participants in the stream were mostly silent, their mics muted likely to hide the amused snickers. There was no video feed on any of the members of the party, all of them represented instead by artwork to preserve their anonymity. Once upon a time that had been a fanciful choice, and perhaps a way to stay safe when interacting with strangers on the internet. Now it was mostly to keep their private lives from being overtaken by the popularity of their stream. “Tales of the Enchanted Forest” was shaping up to be one of the hottest D&D online streaming shows, already on its third campaign and counting.

“Beauty is just trying to get us some answers, Grumpy. We can’t just go stumbling about hoping to run into some fairy wand by chance.”

“Oh, it’s that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Enough! Can we get back to the campaign already? It took me weeks to plan and it kinda hinges a bit on the Dark One helping, which needs to happen today.”

“Fine by me, dearie, if the dwarf can curtail his temper.”

The party was composed of five characters, a paladin, a cleric, a bard, a rogue and a thief, which along with the Dungeon Master made up the regular cast of every weekly stream. But given the popularity of the show, and the amount of time they had been playing, they had managed to amass a good amount of side-characters, guests invited every now and then to help the campaign move along and keep the interest of the audience. And by far the most popular of those guests was the Dark One, a wizard of unknown lineage and tremendous power that served both as an antagonist and a pseudo-ally depending on the situation.

His presence was likely the reason why the livestream’s numbers looked so robust. He had amassed quite a fanbase, due in part to the commitment the player put on the character (the voice-acting was above and beyond what anyone could’ve expected from an amateur performer, and the backstory was quite complex, revealed in bits and pieces fans had meticulously assembled together) and in part to the chemistry he had managed to develop with the group’s bard, a half-human named Beauty.

“Okay, let’s all go back to what we were doing.” The DM’s voice was authoritative, though also more than a bit pissed off. “Okay, Beauty, you were about to try and cajole the Dark One to sell you the information you needed in return for a vial of water from Lake Nostos. Though the water is valuable, it’s not guaranteed to be enough to tempt the wizard. You have to roll at least a 13 in persuasion to make the trade. Roll when you’re ready.”

...

Rumford Gold stretched within the confines of the small backroom of his shop, where he had his computer stuff set up. Initially he’d bought the computer to better conduct his online business. His laptop at home wasn’t cutting it and it was better to photograph the antiques, update the website and handle the deliveries from his place of business. He had bought a good camera, some light fixtures and, on a whim, a microphone, for instances where he might need to virtually communicate with clients. It was something that was happening more and more, especially because a lot of his clientele was European. The internet had truly turned his antiquing- more of a hobby than a profession originally- into a profitable business.

He had gotten into watching D&D while waiting late at night for a client to become available in Austria. He had played as a lad, one of the few happy moments he could remember from his childhood in Glasgow, but had given it up once he had met Milah. And after they were over he had been too involved in making something of himself to remember past childhood enjoyments. But apparently D&D had evolved with the times and he had gotten into the habit of searching for and watching online D&D campaigns in his spare time. From that to actually being a side-character in one of them took almost no time. It was frightfully easy to go back to that frame of mind of playing make-believe, only now he had a distaste for the clean-cut heroic types and more of an affinity for the morally-grey, shady characters.

So he had auditioned for the role of evil-wizard when there had been an opening for a side-character in his favourite D&D stream, The Enchanted Forest. And though the DM had written what he considered to be a very flat, uninteresting character, he had been able to give it his own spin. He knew the DM hated him for it, hated when he deviated from what was expected of him, but people loved him. It was half the fun, pissing the DM off.

The other half, he had to admit, was Beauty. The one with the brains in the group, clearly, a half-human, half-fairy bard with an uncanny ability to think ahead, and arm herself with knowledge. Most of the other members of her party were more apt to try and decapitate something than negotiate with it, or even befriend it. Beauty prided herself on more of a gentle approach, which sometimes got her treated as the “fragile” one. He thought it just made her all the more interesting.

Their flirting had just kinda happened. He was half into it before he realised it had begun at all and by the time he had grown conscious- and self-conscious- of it fans were lapping it up and loving it. Even the DM, as loath as he was to admit it, found the banter engaging, even as if stole the spotlight from his story and where he wanted it to go. So every now and then he got invited into a stream, sometimes to interact with the whole party and sometimes, like the session he had just finished, to speak only to Beauty. And what was supposed to be a brief conversation before the party moved to greener pastures became a whole session, with the chatroom full of engagement and the view count off the charts.

But the DM had had a short tolerance span tonight, and had nipped things in the bud much sooner than usual. He felt… unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Itchy, almost, in a way. So he was more than happy when he received an email from Beauty, who seemed to share his dislike of how the session had played out. They had started doing that more often, sharing emails after a session, even when he did not participate in it. It was harmless, he thought. Just an innocent online flirtation that could never realistically turn into anything. Not that his more in-person romantic overtures could ever pan out. He was in his third year of being completely smitten by the local town librarian, and in his second year of being able to put two words together in front of her without the help from Scotch, something he was perhaps a bit too proud of. And though he had decided very early on that the whole thing was utterly hopeless he had not been able to steer his thoughts or affections away. Realistically he was perhaps more in love with the idea of Belle French than the reality itself, given how little he had personally interacted with the woman. But he knew just enough to fill in the blanks and create a beautiful picture of how he imagined her to be: bookish- an easy assumption given how many times he had caught her in public places absorbed in a book-, kind, generous and delightfully able to hold a grudge and enact revenge when the time came. A bit reckless, and sometimes quick to form opinions, but also quick to revise them. A tactile person, with a great sense of fashion and a carelessness about what was expected of her.

He saw her in his head as clear as day, but little of that image was based on any personal knowledge of her. So, perhaps, he had found in Beauty a fictional substitute, someone he could talk to, and flirt with, without consequences, adopting the persona of someone more confident, more at ease with that sort of thing. The Dark One was comfortable in his skin in a way that he could only pretend to be sometimes. All the money and power he had accumulated over the years had helped him evolve from the spineless, cowardly lad he had once been, but when it came to certain situations, especially those that necessitated a level of vulnerability, he was still hopeless.

Perhaps, he wondered, it was better to think about his online liaison with Beauty as the real thing. They wrote to each other often, in and out of character, and over the course of their correspondence he had confided in her more than he had in any other person alive. Small things at first, every day peeves and details. Nothing that could identify them, certainly, but surprisingly intimate nevertheless. And over time it had grown to stuttering confessions and barings of the soul on both sides. She had told him of her teenage years in a mental asylum, the product of an overwrought widowed father trying to do right by his grieving daughter. He had had a few choice words to say about that, uncharitable thoughts about her father prompting his own willing sharing of the sad story of his childhood, neglectful father and all. It had felt nice, to confide in someone, someone he trusted.

He glanced at her email, where she lamented how their scene had not been as long or as satisfying as she had wanted, and saw she was proposing to meet later in a private stream to finish it the way they had both wanted. She had proposed something similar once or twice before and he had politely declined but now he wondered why not take her up on her offer. What was stopping him? His imaginary idea of Belle French, who in reality had never given him more than a polite smile in passing? Too young, too good, too beautiful to ever see him as anything other than an old cripple? Whatever he had built with Beauty felt infinitely more real, and attainable. A relationship without ever meeting in person seemed ideal in many aspects and, perhaps, if and when it came to meeting in the real world, his physical shortcomings would not be relevant, nor would it his rather uncharitable reputation.

He sent her a quick reply to arrange a meeting, feeling like a bit of roleplaying was, in the end, quite harmless. And if it were to lead to something a bit more meaningful, well, perhaps it was about time.

…

“Water from Lake Nostos. A key ingredient in most powerful potions and even some spells. I’m sure it could prove useful to you.”

The bard showed him the glowing crystal vial hanging from a long chain around her neck, with the glowing milky-white water from the cursed lake in it. He made a move to get closer to inspect it but the woman took a step back, tucking the vial back inside her bodice. The wizard’s eyes lingered there, hiz gaze growing intense. The bard felt her skin flush in response, something that felt a bit like fear but wasn’t running down her spine.

“And I’m sure a new wardrobe could prove useful to you, dearie. You’re practically wearing rags.” Rumplestiltskin made a show of running his eyes up and down her form with just enough disgust in his face to make it seem as if he was only noticing the rather sad state of her dress.

“It’s my best gown, I’d thank you not to insult it.”

He made a moue of disapproval, shaking his head for good measure.

“You’re far from your days as a princess. I hope seeing the world is worth putting up with your band of idiots that waste most of the gold they earn with your wit in pointless goose chases that you know will lead nowhere.”

Beauty didn’t respond. There was nothing she could say to contradict what he thought of her party, none of which was charitable to say the least. And she also knew that he was aware that all of it was worth the freedom she had won when she had left her life in her father’s castle behind. She did miss one or two things, perhaps. Her mother’s vast library being one and, perhaps, some of the fashions. Not so much the silhouettes- she had never liked how the sea of petticoats she was always forced to wear restricted her movement- but the fabrics and colours, certainly. And the shoes.

“I’m here to make a deal, Dark One. Are you doing business today or not?”

Lesser creatures would’ve rather bitten off their tongues that throw cheek at the Dark One, but Beauty did not even bat an eye, lips curling in a defiant little smile that had the wizard smirking, something like admiration blooming in his chest. It’s what he loved most about his little bard, her spine of steel. And perhaps her blue eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t do business with raggedy urchins, dearie. If you want to sit down and negotiate you’ll need a bath.” He made a face, as if he could smell her across the room. “And a change of dress, while I put your current outfit to wash… Or set it on fire, I haven’t decided yet.”

She could tell that he was pulling his punches, that he was playing at being repulsed by her state of dress and hygiene just bad enough that she would see he did not really mean it, not in any real way. She would’ve been able to tell either way, but it was nice that he thought it important to spare her feelings. And she couldn’t deny that a bath sounded heavenly after so many weeks on the road, sleeping out in the open and washing in freezing-cold creeks whenever possible.

“Well, if you insist…”

He took her to a well-lit and spacious bathing chamber, with the biggest copper tub she had ever seen, already filled with warm, soapy water that smelled of vanilla. She wasted no time after the door closed behind him, stripping quickly, careless of her worn and mended garments, and slipping into the tub. It was heaven on her tired muscles, and her dirty skin, and though she would’ve stayed there for hours she knew that every minute spent bathing was a minute less with the Dark One. Their time was limited. If she didn’t return to camp in the morning her party would venture into the castle, likely thinking the most dreadful scenarios. She could picture Charming attempting to kick the front gate open and getting hurt for his troubles. She could not let them worry for her, or risk the rapport she had developed with the Dark One by coming in unannounced.

She got out of the tub with only a bit of reluctance and found a towel that she was convinced was enchanted to dry her faster than possible. She found clothing laid out in the adjoining dressing room, the undergarments soft and made of pale cream fabric and the dress of a lovely velvety, forest-green fabric, with a belt embroidered in small pearls that matched the detail about the neckline. She put it on gladly, twisting every which way to lace it up at her back. Living a less princessy life had made her acquire a number of small skills, including the ability to dress up mostly by herself even in gowns that did not lace up at the front, like most of her travelling clothes.

She did not spot her mauve travelling dress or her boots, but she was sure that Rumplestiltskin had whisked them away and would subtly mend them with magic, though she was sure he would deny it if she were to point it out. The green dress was accompanied by matching slippers, butter-soft and silent as they touched the stone floor. She made sure to dry her hair out, noticing how it shone red-gold in the flattering light of the candles, and took her time brushing it and styling it out of her face, so it fell flatteringly down her back. Her neck and most of her upper torso was bare but for the chain keeping the vial of water tucked safely against her breasts, the wide neckline of the dress dipping low enough to leave her collarbones bare, but she didn’t mind it. She was inside the Dark Castle, with the Dark One. She was safe there. On the road she always had to think about not attracting unwanted male attention. Here she rather felt like the opposite.

It was a silly infatuation, and many would argue any interest or desire on her part was due to the wizard’s power, which some would say was an aphrodisiac potent enough to make some look past the Dark One’s rather unfortunate exterior. No one would ever believe her if she confessed she rather… liked his appearance. The green-gold skin, the wild hair, the talons, but also the exquisitely-tailored pants and vests, the frothy cravats, the slim coats. A beast and a gentleman. A rather enticing combination, she had found.

She went downstairs into the trophy room once more, where two massive chairs were pulled up next to the roaring fireplace, the main source of light. The Dark One was sitting in one of them, a snifter gingerly held by a clawed hand, containing some sort of brown-gold liquid. He glanced at her the moment she entered the room, unwilling or unable to hide his appreciation for what he saw. He had removed his coat, leaving only his high-collared vest and one of his open shirts to cover his upper body, no forty cravat in sight. He seemed less guarded, more adventurous than he usually was when it came to matters of intimacy.

“You clean up well, dearie. Wish I could say the same for your dress. A wash will only do so much for it, but I refrained from throwing it into the fireplace. You’re welcome.”

“Good, as it’s not your property to destroy.” Beauty sat down, with a poise that betrayed her royal upbringing, and primly crossed her legs at the ankles. “So, Dark One, are you prepared to deal with me now?”

She had dealt with him dozens of times before, she had no idea why it all sounded so much like innuendo now. She couldn’t say she minded it.

“Of course, my dear. I’ve had time to think about our deal whilst you were splashing about in the tub.” His sing-songy voice broke, getting suddenly deeper for a second or two, as if he was struggling to retain his composure. “The vial is certainly a good start, but perhaps not quite enough. Now, I’m prepared to be generous given our long and fruitful history of dealmaking together, but I must also keep up certain appearances. So I thought I would also demand… an evening of your time.”

He tried to make it sound sinister, but she was past getting scared of him. At least in the traditional way. She raised an eyebrow, adopting a rather coquettish expression.

“And what would an evening of my time entail exactly?”

“Oh, well, you know. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

She made a show of thinking it over before offering her hand, which he shook without delay.

“It’s a deal.”

Several hours later she had won two games of chess, one game of checkers, and was sipping from her third coupe of sparkling wine as she listened intently to a story about a deal the Dark One had once made with a king from a distant land. He was a gifted storyteller, engaging and funny, knowing exactly when to pause or gesticulate to keep the flow of the story just right. The king in his tale was rather unfortunate, in the sense that his hubris and arrogance had led him to make a deal with the Dark One that he did not understand. Most of Rumplestiltskin’s deals seemed to be like that, Beauty thought. And when he came to collect people dared be indignant that he demanded what they promised in the first place.

“The king was furious. Never let go of the grudge. Hired several assassins to try and kill me. A waste of gold, of course.”

He let out a trilling laugh, which soon proved to be contagious. Somehow, over time, it felt like their chairs had moved closer, because if she stretched out a hand she could easily touch him. Odd.

“Serves him right, for making such an open-ended deal. What a rookie mistake.”

She didn’t recall removing her slippers but she must have, because her feet were enjoying being pressed against the soft cushion of the chair. He made a gesture for her to lean close, which was a bit of a balancing feat, but she managed. Her heart skipped a bit when he leaned close too, almost pressing his mouth against her ear.

“You have no room to talk, sweet. You struck a very vague deal yourself, committing to an evening of conversation, chess ‘and the like’. That little turn of phrase is an invitation to all manner of sins, even the darkest and most decadent of debaucheries.”

He hissed the last part, making her shiver. Not content with letting him have the upper hand she turned her head so their lips were inches apart.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

She could tell she had shocked him into inaction. Cocky Dark One, always in control of the conversation, always one step ahead of everyone else. It was nice to see him floundering, to catch him unprepared. Finally he gulped and put a little distance between them.

“Aren’t you the bravest little poppet.”

“My mother always said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ I’m a firm believer of the principle.”

Slowly, almost painfully so, both his hands clutched at the armrests of her chair, effectively pinning her to it. She knew she was supposed to be scared but she felt nothing but excitement, a buzzing just beneath the skin that made her strangely needy for something. Touch, perhaps, or more. The feeling was so overwhelming she did not realise at first that the laces of her dress were coming undone, as if invisible hands were painstakingly pulling them loose. She tried to make eye contact, but he ducked his head, pressing his face against the base of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She sighed, noticing how gentle he was, his touch feather-light, and discovering that she would not mind a rougher treatment. He was restraining himself, she realised, trying to be a gentleman. Sweet, but not what she wanted from him at that moment. Feeling bold Beauty carded a hand through his hair, pressing his face more firmly against her skin.

“Please, Rumple.”

Those two words seemed to have a magic of their own, producing a sudden and radical change in him. He moved too fast for her to see, wrapping her up in his arms and depositing her on the long dining table on the other side of the room. She did not know whether he used magic or simply moved inhumanly fast, but either possibility excited her, reminded her of the power of the creature looming over her, claws tugging at the unlaced bodice of her dress, dragging the velvet down to expose her undergarments. She was wearing the underbust corset he had provided over the snowy linen shift he had also left for her, so it was easy for him to simply tug the shift down a bit to expose her breasts. He leaned forward, nuzzling the space between her breasts, making a sort of satisfied purring noise as he sniffed up her clavicles and down her throat. Then, once he was happy with the level of squirming she was doing, he finally gave her what she wanted, closing his mouth, with all of its sharp teeth, around one of her rosy nipples. It was a strange feeling at first, more unfamiliar than pleasant, but when he began to suck it changed completely, little shocks of pleasure running from her nipple to between her legs. It was amazing, more than she had ever achieved with her own hands whenever she could get some privacy at night, and the feeling doubled when he grasped her untouched breast, his long claws estimulating the other nipple.

She sunk both her hands in his hair, fisting it in an effort to keep herself from squirming too much, feeling both aroused and impatient. She kept waiting for him to tire of her chest and move further down but when he was finally done sucking her nipples his head moved north, his lips blinding searching for hers till they were kissing. It wasn’t anything like any kiss she had experienced before, not even the unpleasant smack her former fiance had forced on her. Though it was just as forceful there was a wild quality to it, one she had never associated with the affectionate gesture. It was heavenly, the release of passion, far from cooling her down, setting her on fire, stoking her need for him till it felt like she would explode if he didn’t give her relief.

He must have sensed it, her desperation calling to him like a siren song, because at some point he let go of her mouth to travel south, past her aching chest, and velvet-covered belly to where the skirts of her long gown kept her modestly covered. He wasted no time dragging the heavy fabric up, letting it pool around her hips along with the white linen of her shift. She did not have any other undergarments, having not been provided with any, so she was completely exposed to his gaze, from her milky things to her round hips. She squirmed, trying to picture what he must be looking at, the trim thatch of chestnut curls at the apex of her legs, obscenely drenched by this point and making a poor show of trying to hide the pink, glistening flesh beneath.

“What a lovely cunt you have.” His voice was dark, guttural, a monster trying to speak like a man. It thrilled her. “Let me drink from it, precious.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, choosing instead to simply bury his head against her flesh, his tongue rough and wide as it lapped at her field parting them to seek out the bundle of nerves that was throwing for attention. She arched her back, feeling like it was only her firm grip on her thigh and hip what kept her anchored to the table. She fell into a rhythm of sorts, her body seeking out something she could not find but his mouth striving to compensate, to give her what she needed. It was heavenly and seemed to last an eternity, the sensations building up till everything but them faded away, all sensations muted. She felt him move to, thrusting his hips against the edge of the table, making it rattle in a way that spoke of his sheer brute force. It was heady to have someone like Rumplestiltskin, who had always strived to don the mask of a gentleman around her, be so unhinged, so animalistic. More than anything it was that complete loss of control what drove her over the edge. She cried out, feeling her inner muscles coil and her senses spiral out of control, her orgasm leaving her dizzy. It seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. She laid there for a while after the feeling passed, feeling satisfied and wanting at the same time. A few seconds later he also keened, slumping against her still-parted legs, his hair tickling the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay that way for what seemed like ages, while they scrambled to try and collect themselves. The afterglow did not feel awkward or uncomfortable, and it loosened up her tongue enough to venture out that she had hoped for an even more intimate act, a joining that was even deeper than what they had done.

“A deal for such a prize would have to involve all my deepest secrets, my most valuable truths.” He paused, pressing his forehead against the silky inside of her thigh, like a penitent would. “One day, perhaps.”

...

“Do you want to meet? I think it’s time.”

The orgasm had mellowed him out, otherwise he was sure he would’ve at least panicked a little bit. But in the afterglow of what they had just shared, albeit virtually, a meeting did not seem like such a bad idea. In hushed voices they arranged the time and place, tomorrow at a café and bistro in Boston. Nice and public, for both their safety. They knew both lived near Boston, so it seemed natural to pick the city. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he hoped it wasn’t a great inconvenience to her either.

Reluctantly they said their goodbyes, both trying to prolong the moment a bit more till they were both close to nodding off. With a final, reluctant goodbye they both disconnected, leaving Gold to clean himself up and make his way home. With his rumpled suit, disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow it must have looked like the walk of shame. It certainly didn’t feel that way.

...

He woke up in a happy mood, perhaps the best in a long time. Far from feeling stupid or embarrassed about his little bit of roleplaying-turned-porn-session he felt smug, empowered by the notion that he had made a smart, desirable woman come with only his voice and imagination. He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if an exciting possibility was opening up for him.

He went about his day with a bit of a spring in his step, though most citizens of Storybrooke would be pressed to notice. It was only when he saw the book on gardening he was due to return to the library that afternoon- his two Moth orchids had developed small water-soaked spots on the leaves and he had wanted to consult some verified sources instead of relying exclusively on Google search results- that his mood dampened somewhat. As nice as last night had been- bloody fantastic rather- it did make him sad, somewhat, to give up his crush on Belle French. However unattainable it was still nice to have it, that bit of feeling that did not need to be reciprocated to be real. It had been nice to feel something for someone for a change, to look forward to each smile and each small conversation. But it wouldn’t be right, and what he had now was more valuable in any case. Perhaps, with time, he would grow out of his infatuation with the librarian and they could be friends. That would be rather lovely.

He crossed the street towards the library around three o’clock, wanting to beat the rush caused by children being let off school, a busy time for one of the only kid-friendly places in Storybrooke. There were some patrons about, and the afternoon light made the library look truly beautiful. Miss French truly worked miracles with her limited budget.

He found her easily, shelving a few books in the poetry section, and tried not to preen when she smiled widely at him.

“Mr Gold, hi! Always a pleasure. Here to return a book?”

The librarian was always sunny and welcoming, but she looked even happier that day, an excited sort of energy practically rolling off of her in waves. Thank goodness he had decided to give up on his silly little crush, otherwise he might have buckled under the power of her brightness.

“Yes. And you look particularly happy today, Miss French, if I might say so.”

The librarian smiled even more, if possible, and leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.

“I have a date tonight.”

It hurt, the slightest bit, the shock making him take a step back, but less than it would have yesterday. And perhaps, he reasoned, this would be good. This would put them both in the path of becoming friends, allowing him to leave his crush behind much faster. He forced himself to enquire politely after the lucky man, listening as she talked about someone she had been flirting with for a long time now, and it seemed like the relationship was finally ready for the next step.

“I’m really happy. And very nervous. It feels like such a risk, after all this time building something that could easily fizzle out with a first date. But I’ve always believed in doing the brave thing, and bravery will follow. It’s what my mother always said.”

She had turned back to shelve a book as she finished the last sentence, so thankfully she did not see his jaw drop and his eyes widen, his surprise so visible no one could’ve missed it. His heart lurched in his chest, sheer and sudden panic making it difficult to breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t possible. Belle was Beauty. Belle was Beauty. He tried to contradict the notion in his head but he had known Beauty’s British accent was passable but fake, and it made sense for him not to have identified her voice when she usually spoke with her natural Australian drawl, something he associated so closely with her. Everything else he had ever found out about Beauty, in and out of the D&D setting, coincided with what he knew, or thought he knew, about the librarian, one of the reasons why he had developed a crush on her in the first place.

The initial shock was followed by a spike of elation and then a sinking feeling of dread. He needed to cancel. She would be disappointed, but more disappointed if he didn’t and she realised her crush was a man a good deal older than her that was known for being the town monster. It would be awkward and she would not be able to escape him after it, both doomed to meet each other often, given the small size of the town. He could not put her through that.

He stopped himself then, noticing the familiar dark turn of his thoughts, dipped in so much self-loathing it was almost stifling. And he wondered if he really was thinking about Belle or about himself. Being a coward, taking the easy way out. He thought about how he had woken up, the world full of promise and the future bright with the possibility of something great on the horizon. And how he had felt brave last night, to leap into something that had been so worth it. Perhaps it was time to be brave more often. Do something, however small. Put the ball in her court, somehow.

“I wish you the best of luck, then. Perhaps some other time, if you’re not too busy, you could pop into my shop. I have a few antique books I feel you would appreciate.”

It was a nice recovery, and he was happy to see her smile, apparently welcoming the proposition. Everyone knew Mr Gold’s shop was only to be entered when making deals. He didn’t really allow idle perusal of his stock and no one had the money or interest to buy his antiques. His business was conducted mostly with people from major cities on the East Coast.

“Wow, an open invitation to traipse into Mr Gold’s shop, that’s not something one sees everyday. What do you want in return? I hear only deals can grant you access to the shop.”

She made sure to make it clear she was joking, something he appreciated. Feeling emboldened by her kind gesture he adopted a slightly higher pitch and replied:

“Oh, nothing much. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

Being close enough he got to see as it dawned on her, as her brain quickly processed what he had said and where she had heard it before. And he knew, knew because of the way she looked at him, as if she did not recognise him, as if he was a brand new person to her, that she understood the implication, what he had meant to tell her without actually telling her.

“Hope to see you soon, then. Good luck with the date.”

He turned around before he could second-guess himself, feeling terrified by what he had exposed but satisfied at the same time. This way it was Belle’s choice to show up. For all she knew he had no idea that she was Beauty. She could make up an excuse and simply not meet her, and their worlds would never merge. If she did not want to pursue anything between them all she had to do is cancel the date, or not show up. He would respect her decision and never push for anything, or acknowledge their online relationship in the real world.

He sent her an email just as he was about to get into his car, letting her know that he understood that this meeting was a bit of a risk and he would understand if she backed out at the last minute. There were other things he could do in Boston, and he was not adverse to having dinner by himself. And they could still be friends, no matter what she decided. He was halfway to Boston when he heard his cell phone ping, letting him know he had a new email. As he expected, it was from Beauty:

“I’m on my way. Can’t wait to meet you! See you soon.”

He smiled.

#argoslight #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Roll for Initiative #Thestraggletag fanfiction #Rumbelle Gift Swap

41 notes · View notes

peachyteez · 4 years

Text

mint chocolate chip ice cream ≫ DAY FOUR, CONNECTIONS

this abandoned, shy bunny hybrid loves hanging around the open field area of the recovery facility. one day, with the help of jungkook, another bunny hybrid, jiyu meets mingi. after days of mingi being too shy and running away from her, a bag of carrots and mint chocolate ice chip cream was all it took to seal the deal.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminpeachy, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight, @everrrlasting, @bls-luv-me, @atzgiggle, @arohabyeol, @rainbowmagicpixecorn, @soverystupid, @ayetothezee

✧ notes: i should be christmas shopping but 👀 also i have a new series in the works that might be released after heaven 👀

back。| next。

lazy days like these ones were jiyu’s favorite days. now with four others in her home with her, she loved them even more. seonghwa laid on the floor by a window with sunlight pouring in and napped, with earbuds in, hongjoong listened to his music and curled up on the couch. seeing yunho and mingi play around with each other brought a small smile to jiyu’s face as she watched them. mingi was so reserved back at the hybrid center but seeing him with a carefree smile around yunho warmed her heart.

thinking back to his behavior, she figured that, like the others, he came from a rough family. she wanted to help him, and the first step was to track his old owners down. she had an episode with yunho’s former owners, and she would do it again for mingi.

but how do i ask him without making it awkward? although mingi had opened up a little to her the previous night, she doubt he’d tell her his whole life story. seeing mingi’s eyes on her, she softly smiled before continuing to drink her coffee and typing on her laptop.

“hey, mingi.”

hearing yunho call out to him, mingi tore his attention away from jiyu to the puppy hybrid. “would you want to live here?” yunho asked, cocking his head to the side as his tail calmly swayed from side-to-side.

mingi flinched from the question. “i-i-possibly couldn’t—” he already felt bad for imposing on her by staying at her home for the time being. living here would be a dream, he wouldn’t lie, but he knew he legally couldn’t—otherwise it’d paint jiyu as a kidnapper since his previous owners still had custody of him.

yunho chuckled. mingi was his best friend, of course he’s know why he was so hesitant. “how do you think i’m here—no, she didn't steal me, calm down,” he reassured after seeing mingi’s face morph into one of horror, “she did it legally. she had my old owners hand the paperwork over to her.”

mingi furrowed an eyebrow. he’s heard many stories about yunho’s owners and how selfish and stubborn they were. “but...how did she—?”

yunho shrugged as memories of that day resurfaced. “i’m not sure, but i think there’s more to her than most of us know,” yunho said as he discreetly glanced over to the girl at the kitchen counter. “but not in a bad way. i can tell she genuinely cares for us; otherwise, hongjoong would’ve bled out in the forest, seonghwa would’ve been god knows where, and you and i would still be wandering out there and freezing our tails off.”

mingi nodded along to his friend’s words. she really went through the trouble of getting yunho’s paperwork? his owners were absolutely horrendous, how did she even manage to pull that off?

jiyu suddenly let out a groan as she face-planted onto her laptop keyboard. yunho and mingi yelped at the impact before rushing over. “are you okay?!” yunho asked as he bent down to her level.

she slightly chuckled. “i’ve face-planted many times for it to not hurt at this point,” she joked. she caught mingi peeking at her laptop; mingi squeaked out an apology before looking away. jiyu slowly reached up and pet his head. “it’s okay, mingi, i don’t mind.”

yunho glanced at her laptop to see lists of names and some of their information. he cocked his head to the side. “what are you doing?”

jiyu hesitated before looking at mingi. “i’m trying to track your old owners down—”

“are you going to give me back?!” mingi panicked.

jiyu shook her head. “no, bub, calm down. judging from your behavior the past few days, i doubt you’d want to go back. there’s probably a reason you ran away, and i wouldn’t be so cruel as to return you to the place you escaped from.”

mingi sheepishly nodded, feeling a flood of relief at her words. “are you going to...” he trailed off, suddenly hesitating. what is he was getting his hopes up that she would get his adoption papers? was his wish too big?

“yes, bub, i’m going to try to get your adoption papers from them,” jiyu answered his unasked question. “i’ve said this way too many times for me to count but no hybrid should have to live in fear of their owners. if you’re going to adopt one, then take full responsibility for their wellbeing,” she mumbled the latter with a slight frown.

mingi felt the wall around his heart crack even more at her words. at the moment, he felt as if he was encased in a warm blanket, away from the dangers of the world. now he could see why yunho trusted her so much.

“do you recognize any of them, mingi?” she asked, turning her laptop towards the bunny hybrid. “i’ve narrowed the list down to these people. are any of these people them?”

eyes flitting around the list, his eyes froze on one name. “here,” he softly said as he pointed at the name on the screen. “that’s her...”

park youjin. 28 years old.

she frowned when she pulled up a photo of the woman. apparently, she was the ceo of a pretty popular game company. “how are all of you from pretty well-known families?” she mumbled to herself.

unfortunately, the woman’s status caused a little problem for jiyu. she had already created a buzz around herself when she stood up to yunho’s former owners, the ceo’s of star enterprise, a company that her father had acquired a few years back. if she were to cause another buzz, she had a feeling her father would do something that would potentially risk her life with seonghwa, hongjoong, yunho, and now mingi.

“oh, man, i really have to call him...?” she asked before face-planting again onto her keyboard, causing yunho and mingi to yelp with fear for her face.

“call who?” mingi asked. he had a slightly bad feeling in his stomach at her reaction to his former owner. as much as he wanted to legally escape, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger or risk of anything. he didn’t know if his little heart could take the consequences.

“an old friend, you can say,” she wryly smiled before standing up with her phone. “i’ll be on the balcony,” she said before slipping the back door.

she stared at the contact name. yuta. she hadn’t spoken to him ever since she left the main house. yuta was a black cat hybrid and her assistant. rather than calling him her assistant, she always called him a friend. he’s been with her ever since the two were teenagers, when he became old enough to watch over her on his own.

“well, pray he doesn’t chew my head off for this,” she prayed before pressing the call button. hearing the dial tone, she was worried that he wasn’t even going to pick up.

“ms. jiyu?!” came a surprised tone from the other end.

gasping from the sudden sound, she almost dropped her phone. “ohmygod, that scared me,” she calmed her racing heart. “and i told you, you don’t have to call me ‘miss jiyu’, that makes me sound old and you're the older one,” she teased. hearing a sigh, she chuckled.

“sorry, it’s a force of habit,” he said. jiyu could imagine his tail swinging around in excitement. “so why the sudden call after three years? three years!”

jiyu held the phone a little ways from her ear at his scream. unbeknownst to her, the four hybrids in the house were watching her from inside. “i wonder who she’s calling for her to look like she went deaf,” hongjoong curiously mumbled; the others nodded in agreement.

“sorry, sorry,” she sheepishly scratched her head even though he couldn’t see. “i know this is really out of the blue, but i need a favor...” she could see his enlarged eyes at her request, making her internally laugh.

“with? i don’t really have a choice anyways,” he wryly responded.

“um...i need you to retrieve park youjin’s hybrid adoption forms for me.”

a moment of silence passed.

“...why?” he asked. “that’s a pretty random—”

“her hybrid ran away and i found him. but she hasn’t been...the best parent, so i’m helping him out. but i can’t exactly cause another disturbance like last time with star enterprise otherwise father’s going to have my head.”

yuta took a while to process her words. “i know it’s not breaking the law to request adoption forms, but that means you have two hybrids?!”

“...three actually...maybe four if you get me park youjin’s...” she nervously chuckled.

“i—what—four?! you’re returning in a year, are you bringing back four new hybrids?!” he incredulously asked, his mouth gaping open.

“i haven’t exactly figured that part out yet, but just trust me and get them...please?” she asked.

what felt like an eternity passed before he sighed again. “alright, alright. and without your father knowing, i’m assuming?”

“you know the drill.”

yuta slyly smiled at the familiar words. “your wish is my command, miss.” he burst out into laughter at her whining. “sorry, couldn’t resist. but I can give them to you in two days max. just send me the information.”

“alright, thanks. and be careful.” after saying their goodbyes, she went back inside to see the four staring at her.

“so are you getting them?” seonghwa asked, all of them looking at her with hope and expectancy in her eyes. especially mingi.

she broke into a smile. “don’t worry, i have a friend that has a way of getting anything and everything. just trust me on this, okay?”

although her words were mysterious and didn’t offer any clues, they all trusted her with their life. she hasn’t done anything wrong or harmful, so why would she start now? suddenly, a loud grumbling sound come from the red-hair’s stomach.

his cheeks turned red and he grew flustered. “s-sorry...” they laughed, amused by the bunny’s clumsiness and antics.

“alright, let’s go get dinner. what do you all want?”

as if they discussed it beforehand, a unanimous scream of chicken came from all four of them. jiyu was surprised, yet happy that they all seemed to get along despite only knowing each other for a short amount of time. “i guess that settles it,” she playfully rolled her eyes before grabbing her keys. “come on, maybe we can rope yeonjun, binnie, and beomgyu into coming with us.”

seeing mingi’s head cock to the side at the mention of new people, yunho pat his back. “they’re nice people and hybrids,” he reassured as they put their shoe and coats on, “soobin and beomgyu are great, but just a warning, beomgyu’s quite hyper. and yeonjun’s like a male version of jiyu”

hearing his description, jiyu’s nose scrunched. “that’s such an insult,” she joked.

seonghwa and hongjoong tried to suppress their laughter, causing jiyu to playfully put her hands on her hips. “not a word or no chicken.”

“you wouldn’t dare!” they all chorused.

“good god, it’s like i have quadruplets.”

#9th member of ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez angst #song mingi #song mingi imagines #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #ateez mingi #hybrid au #kpop hybrid au #ateez hybrid #hybrid!ateez #ateez au

171 notes · View notes

voidaus · 4 years

Text

Final Goodbyes

Summary: Your a Youtuber and in a stream you see this pen-pal app and download it, creating an account. This all happened months ago. The guy you met on there was amazing, and you talked for months until he just... stopped.

Genre: Angst?

warnings: swearing, fighting

Requested? No

Word count: 1402

I believe everyone deserves a second chance. No matter how difficult things are. No matter how ugly things got. But maybe sometimes, the problem is that I believe too much. Seeing good in every person, while of course, some people are just... not good.

But that's not how this story goes. No, he is good. I am a hundred percent sure of that. The question is, 'is he willing to change and show that side of him?'. I guess we won't find out if I don't reach out to him huh?

The grey laptop is on my couch, still warm from the last time I used it just an hour ago. Grabbing myself some hot chocolate I lay down on the soft pillows and pull my blanket up to my chest. Whilst finally deciding I'm comfortable in this position I grab the laptop again and open it, typing in my password. The device starts up, letting me in.

"miaow" a soft purring comes from the ground. My cat, Athena, jumps on the couch as soon as I pat it. "Hey there gorgeous" I greet her. The laptop dings, making it clear that it's ready to be used. I give it my full attention again. Should I really open Zaira?

Zaira is an online penpal app where you can anonymously make friends. I signed up about 2 years ago and never really managed to find someone I really hit it off with. You know, I just couldn't find the words to talk to any of the people who messaged me. My anxiety not really helping with making friends, of course, I thought meeting them online would be easier. I was wrong.

No one understood me, which isn't really surprising. I'm a bookworm, but also a gamer. I have lots of hobbies but not quite the energy to pursue them. The only thing that still has me uploading videos and streaming is the money and my supporters. My supporters standing first on the list, of course. I upload mostly gaming videos under the name Void. I go faceless. I never really liked my appearance for that matter.

I hesitate but still open it. The familiar logo greets me and only a moment after that my only friend on the site shows up, bringing back memories.

Zaira? What's this? "An online penpal app where you can add strangers and make friends. Now free in the AppStore!" I read the description out loud for my viewers. "Should I download it guys?" I ask the live chat, hoping they would say yes. Soon enough I get the confirmation from them and I click the button, hoping it won't take too long to download. I create a profile typing in my bio: 'Bookworm, Gamer, Weeb :)' The chat confirms that that pretty much describes me making me laugh. "Perhaps we can actually meet some cool people on here guys! Who knows?""Alright." I scroll through the site, reading people's bios until one of them spots the fans' eyes. The comments are going crazy fast right now. "click them!""omg Void, you have to message Sasori!" and more comments like that. I click on the profile, reading it's bio. Their given name is Sasori Matsudo. I laugh, explaining to some of the viewers that don't watch anime that these are names from Naruto and Death Note. "I suggest you watch them. those are some good animes!".

I smile at the memories and click on his profile. "Sasori Matsudo" the name rolls off my tongue. I chuckle "not a weeb huh?" Slowly looking through the messages, the familiar empty feeling enters my body again. To be honest, it never left. Ever since the fight, it was always there, following my every step. I close my eyes, letting the painful memories flood in again.

"I just don't understand why you can't talk about it with me!" your voice is slightly raised as you hold the phone in your shaking hand. "Because I just can't, okay! I can't keep throwing all of my shit onto you. you know I could never do that!" The man you know as Corpse yells back. You're both stressed out and upset, and this is the worst fight you ever had. You had decided to message 'Sasori Matsudo' on Zaira, and you two grew close very quickly. After 4 months of chatting on the site, he gave you his number. Not long after, he told you That he's the famous Youtuber known as Corpse Husband. You began to watch his videos and enjoyed them a lot, telling him so. In the fifth month of you two knowing each other, You started to call each other once in a while. That turned into calling every day, and soon you were calling more than 4 hours a day.

Your voice softens at his upset tone, realizing you're not the only one hurt here. You give a deep sigh before talking into your phone again. "I'm always here for you Corpse. I don't care how many times you call me, even if it's in the middle of the night. You make me feel better, you make me happy, and I want to be there for you. Please don't shut me out like this." you're practically begging at this point. He can't shut you out! Not like this.

"Void... You know I love you. Please, keep doing what you're doing, keep making videos and baking, and all the little things I love about you. But I just can't continue doing this to you. I'm sorry." He speaks up. The low voice you adore so much is soft and trembling. He sounds like he could break down crying any time now. "No, please, Corpse! Please don't leav-"

your phone lets out a long beep cutting you off. Breaking down crying, you hurl your hand against your mouth, attempting to silence your sobs. On the other side of the line, the man with the curly black mop on his head is doing the same. Tears flow down both of your eyes as void fills your hearts.

It hurts, but he knows he had to do this. He was always troubling you with his feelings, and he couldn't even show you his face! What kind of friend is that? Loud sobs take over his apartment, as his heart hurts, knowing he can't talk to you again.

And he didn't.

You lay on the couch, clenching your blanket awfully hard. You don't notice the tears streaming down your face till Athena climbs onto your lap and licks them off. You cuddle her in an attempt to comfort yourself, as the dark feeling in your chest grows stronger.

You open a new tab and type in his number. All the old messages show up. He probably blocked you, but you have to try. He wanted you to be happy, but then why did he leave you?!

After that night, he never messaged you again. Did he really not want to talk to you anymore? You ask yourself.

But all Corpse has been doing is lay in bed and upload videos once in a while. His followers noticed something is off, and so has his friends. He's acting off whenever he streams and rarely jokes around anymore.

You text him a simple 'how are you' and close your laptop after. The next day you check if he's replied. Nothing. You keep checking for two weeks, but nothing comes in. It's over. He's not coming back. You begin sobbing and lift yourself from the couch, scaring a sleeping Athena. You jog to the kitchen and shove everything off the counter, breaking some cups and plates in the process. Sliding down against the sink, you put your face in your hands, letting out an ear-piercing scream. The weight of the world is crashing down on you, and all you can do is cry and scream. The daydream is finally over.

Corpse saw your message. He's tried messaging you so many times, but each time he holds himself back. All he wants is to talk to you, but he knows he shouldn't. Well, that's what he believes is best. Every day he thinks about you, thinking that you have already forgotten him, though it's the opposite. You think about him every day, remembering all of the memories.

All the laughs and all the cries. All the comforts, to final goodbyes.

Hey Guys! I hope you're okay after this lil angsty piece of crap lmao. I tried my best. Anyways, if you have any comments or feedback, I always appreciate it! Oh, and 200 notes on 'Grocery Shopping'?!!??? Y'all are crazy, thank you so much!

If you liked this, my taglist is always open and so are my requests!

@persephone-sideblog @reinyrei @cherry-piee @alienvarmint @divine-artemis @milanienne

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse fic #corpse imagines #corpse #x reader #Y/N #imagine #corpse husband imagine #angst #corpse angst #softboiicorpse

212 notes · View notes

the-modernmary · 3 years

Text

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 8)

Chapter summary: When Aaron gets stuck at work late and Jess has to go help out her dad, Aaron has nobody else to turn to but you to watch Jack. The only problem? Up until now, Aaron has been keeping his home life completely separate from you, and you have no clue how this will effect your already precarious relationship with Aaron.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This was not part of the original plan at all for this story, but I couldn’t get it out of my head.

masterlist || read on ao3

In between What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine Love is so confusing, there's no peace of mind If I fear I'm losing you it's just no good You teasing like you do - Blondie, “Heart of Glass”

~~~~~~~

You were on your couch doing homework when you got the call from Aaron, and you frowned in confusion when you saw his name flash across your cell phone screen. Aaron never called you while he was working, and you especially didn’t expect a call from him today. He was doing a custodial interview with an inmate sentenced to death somewhere in Virginia, and you figured prison didn’t have the greatest cell service.

“Hey there, jailbird,” you greeted. “Are you inviting me to the dance?”

“Very cute, Elvis,” Aaron joked, but it was half hearted. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I need to ask you for a favor, and I want you to know that I wouldn’t be asking you if I had any other options.”

“Mhm, I love being the last choice,” you mused sarcastically. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, Aaron.”

Aaron elected to ignore your last comment. “The prison just went on lockdown, so I’m going to be stuck here for at least a few more hours,” he explained, and there was an unnatural nervousness to his voice. “And Jessica has to go deal with an emergency with her father.”

You frowned to yourself, unsure of where Aaron was going with his explanation, and even more unsure of who this Jessica person was. A pang of jealousy shot through you, but you quickly bottled that feeling.

Aaron took a moment to compose himself before continuing. “Would you be willing to watch Jack for a few hours? I know it’s not ideal, but it would just be for a little while until either I get out of here or somebody else from the BAU gets off of work. I would even be willing to compensate you for your time.”

Oh.

OH.

Silence crackled through the phone as you took in his request, and you could practically feel Aaron’s nervousness. It shouldn’t have been as big of a deal as it was. It had been two months since you’ve been with Aaron, you slept over at his house enough, and you worked in the same building as him. It was pretty inevitable that of course you were going to meet Jack at some point, but you always figured it would be with Aaron there to mediate. You had pictured that it would probably be accidental, maybe Jack would wake up early and would catch you sneaking out of Aaron’s house. Or you would be invited to one of Rossi’s famous dinners and the kids would be there and then there would be no questions asked. You definitely didn’t expect to babysit.

“Yeah, of course, I can watch him,” you said finally, and you heard Aaron let out a sigh of relief. “And you don’t have to pay me… or worry about finding a replacement. He can hang out with me for as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Aaron told you, still sounding completely drained. “I will send your address to Jessica, and she will drop Jack off at your place in about half an hour. I really owe you, Y/N. I have to go talk to the warden now, but please call me if you need anything, okay? Bye.” Before you could even answer, Aaron hung up.

You took a deep breath as dread settled in the pit of your stomach. How hard would babysitting be, really? You’ve babysat before - Aly had a little brother who basically became your little brother. However, a weird part of you was nervous that Jack wouldn’t like you, which was ridiculous. It didn’t matter whether or not Jack liked you.

Right?

Deciding that you couldn’t just sit there and panic, you chose to use the time to tidy up your apartment, just to make it extra presentable. The organized mess that was your homework space was quickly arranged so that all of your notebooks and papers were in a neat pile. You took down the half empty tequila bottle from forever ago that was sitting on the top of your fridge and shoved it into a cabinet somewhere. The throw blanket that you had been wrapped up in was refolded and placed on the arm of your couch. You wanted to at least give the illusion that you were prepared to babysit Aaron’s son, and not completely freaking out inside.

Right on schedule, knocking came from your door, and you rushed to open it. You were greeted by a blonde woman, probably a few years younger than Aaron, who you assumed to be Jessica. Next to her was the elusive Jack, with his blonde hair and missing front tooth. You had seen a few photos of Jack in passing, hanging up around Aaron’s house and whatnot, but you never got a good look at the photos.

“Y/N?” Jessica asked cautiously, and you nodded slowly. “Hi, I’m Jessica, Jack’s aunt.”

Jack’s aunt. A million emotions hit you at once. Oh god, she was Haley’s sister. Your stomach started to feel queasy, and it took you a second to realize that it was guilt, although you weren’t quite sure what you felt guilty about.

Logically, you knew Aaron had a life outside of you. Hell, you had slowly become part of that outside life now that you were friends with his coworkers, but you really tried to avoid thinking about Aaron’s home life. When he wasn’t with you, it was out of sight, out of mind. He was his own individual entity.

Now you were face-to-face with just how insignificant you were in the grand scheme of Aaron’s life. The fact was that you were probably no more than a side storyline in his life, a character created just for Aaron’s own development. He had a life and a family that you barely knew about. There was evidence of his home life everywhere - the bins of toys at his house, drawings on his fridge, family photos in matching frames in the hallway, even a small jewelry box on his dresser that looked like it had been collecting dust for a few years - but you had gotten good at averting your eyes.

“Hi, yes, that’s me,” you replied, shaking Jessica’s hand. Then you bent down so you were closer to Jack’s height. “Hey dude, I’m Y/N,” you introduced, giving him a small wave.

Jessica took the backpack she was carrying and helped Jack slip it onto his shoulders. “Thank you again for doing this on such short notice. Aaron should have sent over my phone number if you need anything, but Jack’s a good kid. He just has some homework that he needs to get done,” she explained.

“It’s no problem,” you told her, giving her your best reassuring smile. “He’s in good hands here.”

Jessica smiled gratefully at you before kneeling down to say goodbye to Jack. You stood in the doorway awkwardly as you watched the interaction curiously. It was as normal as it could get, Jessica telling Jack to behave and that she loves him, but it also fascinated you, like you were watching a movie and all of the characters had popped out of the screen.

Jack gave his aunt a hug before she left, and the two of you stepped into your apartment. That same nervousness came back in full force. What kind of games did he like to play? You didn’t have any toys for him. What if you couldn’t help him with his homework? Do kids his age learn fractions yet, because you did not remember fractions. What if-

“Woah!” came Jack’s voice, breaking you out of your spiraling. “Can I please sit on the bean bag chair?”

Well, Jack certainly wasn’t nervous, which offered you more relief than you thought it would. “Yeah, of course, you can. It’s my favorite place to do my homework.”

Jack flopped onto the bean bag chair, his tiny frame almost completely consumed by it. You could see the confusion growing on Jack’s face. “You have to do homework?” Jack asked.

“Yup,” you told him. “And I know you do, too, so we can do homework together.”

Jack jutted out his bottom lip in a pout. “Will I have to still do homework when I’m old?”

At that, you let out a genuine laugh, even if you were a little shocked. The kid had personality, you had to admit. “I’m not that old,” you halfheartedly protested, “And maybe. It depends on what you want to be when you grow up.”

“I want to be a superhero,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “Like Spiderman.”

You nodded, the movement playfully exaggerated. “Oh, well Spiderman is really smart. I’m sure he does a lot of homework, so you better get to work. Let me know if you need any help, okay?” You chuckled again at Jack’s increased pout, obviously disappointed in the fact that even superheroes had to focus on school.

Jack reached into his backpack and pulled out a pencil and a brightly colored folder with papers sticking out of it every which way. He started on his worksheets, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, and it hit you just how much he looked like Aaron. The blonde hair threw you off, but you had seen that exact look on Aaron’s face many times, eyebrows together and lips pursed ever so slightly. Like father, like son. You had to resist the urge to audibly coo at the sight. You were only human, after all.

You tore your eyes away from the boy and glanced over at your laptop, which was sitting open on your coffee table, the cursor blinking back at you teasingly, reminding you that you also had to get to work. You had essays to write and practice contracts to draft up. The two of you did your work in comfortable silence for a while, Jack occasionally asking you to help him read the instructions of his worksheet.

“Done!” Jack exclaimed proudly after a while, holding his packet of papers high in the air.

Just in time, too, because if you had to do any more criminal tax litigation work, you were going to pull out your hair from boredom. There was only so much corporate fraud you could read about in one sitting.

“With all of your homework?” you clarified, and he nodded so fast that he looked like a full-on bobblehead. “Good job, dude!”

“Did you finish your homework so that we can play?” he asked you.

“Yup, I’m all done,” you lied. Your paper wasn’t due for another week, anyway. “So what do you want to play?”

Jack tapped his finger on his chin as he thought about it. You were aware that you didn’t have much in the way of kid’s toys, but you had stuff to color or paint or play board games, and you were confident enough in your imagination to come up with a game if it came down to that. Jack looked around and suddenly his eyes got wide and he pointed to your Switch.

“Do you have Mario Kart?” he asked hopefully. “Can we play that?”

“That sounds like fun, let’s do that,” you told him, making your way to set up the console. “I’ll even let you be player one.”

Jack was practically bouncing up and down in his seat now. “I’m really good at this game. I can even beat my uncle Dave!”

You laughed as the two of you picked your characters. Jack chose Yoshi, a solid choice, and you went with Toad. “You can beat your Uncle Dave? Wow, that’s impressive. I have to warn you, though, I’m also very good at this game. Do you think you can beat me?” you teased.

“Definitely,” Jack challenged, and the game began.

The two of you played for a little while, and Jack’s mind was blown when you told him about the shortcuts on each track. After about three cups and you telling him where every shortcut you knew was, the 7-year-old was starting to get antsy just sitting, so you decided to switch gears.

You brought out some leftover paints and canvases you had from a paint night with your friends, and you and Jack laid on the floor and did some painting, although you were not prepared for how messy it would get. Somehow, Jack ended up with his fingertips covered in blue paint, and you had a streak of green on your cheek from where you mindlessly brushed hair from out of your face. As you placed the artwork to the side to dry, Jack had already decided on the next game - the floor is lava.

Before you even realized it, three hours had passed and it was time to make dinner. Jack chose pizza, which you luckily already had in your freezer. The game was still going, but you and Jack agreed that the kitchen was the only safe place without lava, considering there were too many dangerous things in that vicinity.

Babysitting Jack was easier than you expected, and much more fun. Even in his more playful moments, Aaron was always a little bit guarded and on edge, so you had a hard time imagining what his child would be like. A weird part of you almost imagined a mini adult in a child-sized suit and a briefcase full of fruit snacks and crackers, as ridiculous as it sounded. But Jack was just like any other 7-year-old - goofy, a little loud, and excited about the world.

You wondered if Aaron was like that as a kid, or if that part of Jack’s personality came from his mom. Maybe Jack was a mini version of his mom. Now that you had gotten the tiniest taste of Aaron’s home life, you found yourself craving to know more, to see Aaron in dad-mode.

Selfishly, you also wanted Aaron to watch you interact with Jack, just to see his reaction. It was a gamble and you realized it. Best case scenario, Aaron would be able to breathe a little bit easier. There wouldn’t be that half second of awkward silence between the two of you every time he mentioned Jack’s name. That stupid guilt you felt so often would dissipate because, hey, you met Jack and now that was out of the way.

On the other hand, everything could come crashing down. Aaron could walk in, see you with Jack, and immediately regret his decision and regret you. It would solidify in both of your minds that you were no more than somebody he could call and fuck when he felt himself on the verge of breaking down. Any self-imposed importance you had placed on yourself in Aaron’s life, no matter how small it was (and it was pretty small), would be a lie. He had a shorter temper now than before, and maybe this would be the exact thing that would set him off.

You didn’t want that, of course, but you really did want to know what would happen, to see where you stood with him. Call it morbid curiosity.

You were pulling the pizza out of the oven when you heard the knock on the door. “Coming!” you called.

“Don’t touch the lava!” Jack reminded you from his spot on the coffee table, just as you were about to leave the kitchen. Your method of movement to and from the kitchen was the rolling chair from your desk and a broom so that you could push yourself where you needed to go, which you had to justify to Jack as being a lava boat.

You “rowed” yourself over the door and looked in the peephole. Aaron was on the other side, nervously rubbing his thumb over the rest of his fingers. It took some work, but you were able to open the door without falling off the chair.

“Hey, I know you,” you greeted Aaron, but your smile fell when you took in his appearance. His whole body was tensed up, like a rubberband about to snap. He didn’t have his tie or blazer on, and the cuffs of his shirt were undone.

“Dad!” Jack shouted, waving excitedly.

“Hi, buddy.” Aaron smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was scanning the room, studying the scene in front of him. Aaron’s expression slowly shifted to confusion as Jack bounded across your furniture to get closer to his dad. “Jack, what are you doing on the table?” Aaron’s eyes shifted to where you were, noticing for the first time that you were kneeling on a rolling chair, holding onto the broom like a trident. “And why do you two have paint on you?”

“The floor is lava,” you explained nonchalantly.

“And you’re going to get burned!” Jack pointed out.

You chuckled and swiveled your chair so that you could get a better look at Jack. “How about we give your dad a minute to find a spot, okay dude?” You turned back to Aaron, lowering your voice. “The kitchen is a safe zone, if you don’t want to have to crawl around on furniture.”

Aaron frowned, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain. “No, I should take Jack home anyways,” he finally said. “You’ve helped enough today and I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” you insisted. “Besides, we just made a pizza that I’m not going to be able to eat by myself. Come in, have dinner. You look like you need it.”

He really did. You were certain that he hadn’t eaten anything the entire time he was at the jail. He looked exhausted, too, and it was taking every bit of his energy to keep his usual stoic and stony composure.

Aaron wanted to argue, but instead, let out a resigned sigh. “Thank you. You, uh, said that the kitchen was a safe zone?”

“Mhm, and you might want to hurry because Jack is in it to win. Already tried to sabotage my chair boat.”

While Aaron’s face remained emotionless, his gaze softened as he stepped into your apartment. “Jack, did you have fun with Y/N?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen.

Jack hopped from the coffee table to the couch and onto a trail of pillows he had made. “Yeah! She taught me how to cheat in Mario Kart!”

You rolled your way back to the kitchen, chuckling sheepishly. “Shortcuts aren’t cheating, it’s playing smart,” you defended.

Jack just giggled and continued to animatedly tell Aaron about his day at school as you each started to dig into dinner. Well, Jack and you dug into the pizza, while Aaron took all off two bites and pushed his plate to the side. You had originally thought that it was the interview that caused Aaron’s tenseness, but you realized with a start that Aaron was completely focused on you. He was watching you curiously, like you had subtly changed your appearance and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was different.

He was just intrigued by your interaction with Jack as you had been with Jack and Jessica’s interactions. You had thought that he was going to make a snap judgment and decide if he was ever going to want to see you again the second he saw you with Jack, but he was taking his time. He was profiling you.

“Hey Jack,” you interjected once he finished eating. “Your dad and I are going to do dishes, but I need you to do me a big favor. I can’t win Bowser’s Castle no matter how hard I try. Do you think you could do that race for me while we clean up?”

Aaron looked at you in confusion, but you kept your eyes on Jack, who was all too happy to have an excuse to get out of cleaning and go back to playing video games. He practically bounced back into the living room, leaving you and Aaron alone.

“Do you want something to drink?” you offered. Aaron was watching your every movement, studying you carefully. “I have tea, coffee… Irish coffee, if it’s that kind of night.” You added the last part as an afterthought, only partially joking.

The corner of Aaron’s mouth twitched upwards so subtly that if you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have even noticed. “No thank you,” he answered formally.

You mindlessly traced circles on the tabletop with your finger, keeping your eyes downcast. You knew you couldn’t just outright ask what was on his mind, he’d never answer truthfully. “Do I want to know what that creep did to be put on death row?” you asked, keeping your voice as indifferent as possible..

Aaron shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell you even if you did,” he admitted and the two of you fell into silence again. It was the answer you had pretty much come to expect from him.

Despite the fact that, as a lawyer, you’d have to hear about all these awful things and see the evidence, Aaron tried to shield you from his work. He didn’t talk about cases, didn’t glamorize the work he did the way some younger agents would. In all the time you’ve known him, you could count the number of criminals you knew he took down on your fingers, and some of those were only because you learned about them in class.

That was fine. You didn’t want Aaron to have to bring that to your bed, not when you were supposed to be his distraction from all that mess. And what a fun distraction you were.

Aaron looked at his watch, effectively ending the conversation. “We should go, it’s getting late. Thank you for watching Jack. And for dinner.”

You paused, debating your next move. “It’s no problem,” you said sincerely. “And if you need anything else from me… I’ll be awake for a while.” You let your offer hang in the air for a few moments, watching as Aaron seemed to be weighing options in his head, you just didn’t know what those options were.

You were just about to rescind your offer when he opened his mouth to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want any compensation?”

You waved off his offer. “I’m positive.”

Aaron shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “Then let me buy you dinner sometime this week. It’s the least I can do.”

You paused, trying to keep your expression as neutral as possible. Aaron had never made an offer like this before, never took steps towards anything that could push this into something even remotely considered a relationship. It was easy to explain the constant sex. You could even justify the lingering morning-afters or the nights spent hunched over your textbooks while Aaron wordlessly refilled your coffee cup without you having to even ask by claiming that it all happened organically. It’s not like the two of you planned to stay up and debate the lost history of the term “beyond a reasonable doubt”. It just sort of happened, and who were you to turn down free coffee?

Anything more would complicate the carefully curated system, and neither of you had the time or energy for complicated.

Despite every logical bone in your body screaming at you to walk away and leave while you were ahead, you couldn’t help the soft “Yeah, I’d really like that,” that slipped past your lips.

You could have sworn Aaron smiled at your answer, but he didn’t say anything more.

The two of you walked back to your living room in silence. “Alright buddy,” Aaron called, ruffling Jack’s hair. “It’s time for us to head home. Say thank you to Y/N.”

Jack pouted as he exited the game. “Can Y/N watch me again soon? Please? It was fun!”

“We’ll have to see, she might be busy,” Aaron mused, looking at you so that he could gauge your reaction. It was enough of an answer to not crush Jack’s hopes, but vague enough that it gave you room to deny the offer. He was letting you choose how much you wanted to be around Jack, if you wanted to be around him at all.

You grinned down at Jack and held out your hand for a high five, which he took as an invitation to try and slap your hand as hard as he could. How could you say no to him? “Of course I can watch you again. I’ll even have Legos next time.”

For the first time that night, Aaron gave you a real smile, one that you could actually see. It was small, but it was genuine. “Thank you again. Goodnight, Y/N,” he told you and Jack echoed the sentiment, waving at you as they walked out the door.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #jack hotchner #my writing #my best habit

60 notes · View notes