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gretavanbear · 2 years

Text

Snapped.

Jake Kiszka x fem!reader*

*! SMUT !

You had nothing to lose after sending that snapchat video; yet everything to gain.

[Notes :

2.7k words

dom Jake, kinda rude Jake? but you like it?

it's my first time writing anything like this pls be nice]

_ _ _

You were on the phone with your best friend, listening to her chew her chips loudly on speakerphone. You had been on call for about three hours now; discussing school, work and of course; boys. You had known her for over ten years- as she was basically your other half now. Your bond being stronger than anyone else’s.

Your college life has always been calm. You were busy studying for tests as other people in your classes would ditch class to go party. The only life of the party in your surroundings was your eccentric, loud best friend.

“You’ll never guess who added me on snapchat earlier.” You speak into your phone, awaiting your friend’s gasp.

“Whoooo?” She asks; giggling a little.

“Jacob Kiszka.” You reply, she gasps and you’re as shocked as her by your answer. Jacob Kiszka was extremely popular around campus. He would throw the greatest parties with his two brothers; so you’ve heard. Whenever the Kiszkas were having a party, campus would be trashed by morning. Jacob had long hair, a defined nose, broad shoulders and a really nice physique. You always found a way to stare at him in class, when he’d attend.

“I know. It must’ve been a mistake.” You reply and she laughs.

“I added his brother and he didn’t add me back. Like, I’m desperate for some Kiszka dick.” She laughs and you giggle in response, calling out her name.

“Whaat?” She replies. “You should most definitely send something, make it look like the snap was meant for someone else!” She suggests and you shake your head in response.

“Oh come on, he probably doesn’t even know I exist.” You respond to her crazy suggestion. You both talk for another hour, a little about Jake and his sexy face, body, and everything else. Until you end the call after she falls asleep; the sound of her snores taking over the silence of your dorm room.

You scroll through your instagram feed for a couple of minutes as you’re reminded from your friend’s words. The idea pops into your head, your finger lingering over the snapchat icon. You stand up and pace around the room; thinking of Jake and his stupid long brown hair, his stupid big brown dreamy eyes, his stupid sexy broad shoulders.

Sighing loudly, you find yourself standing in front of your closet looking through your clothes; finding something seemingly flattering for a stupid little snapchat that Jacob will most definitely just skip over, then unfriend you. You shake your head, trying to get this stupid idea out yet you’re taking your shirt off, putting on a lacy black bra and panties. It had been only about three months since you were last intimate with someone; thanks to your best friend who set up the blind date with someone who had no idea what they were doing.

You knew what you wanted; and if it had to be the most known guy in school; then so be it.

You tap on the ‘Snapchat’ app and your finger stops over Jake’s username. You hesitate a little before double-tapping on the name and the camera pops up. Placing yourself in front of your mirror, you push out your chest a little, making your breasts spill out a little from the lacy black material. You place yourself in a seductive position, two of your fingers wrapped around the bra strap- extending it a little to show off even more skin. Your bottom lip in between your teeth, showing a little in the upper corner of the screen. Though the screen didn’t show lower than your belly button, the material of your black thong appeared slightly in the bottom corner of the screen.

You hold your breath slightly, pressing the little circle at the bottom of the screen and taking the picture, breathing out as you look over the image to make sure it looks presentable to send. It does. You press on the screen to add a text. After pondering for a couple of minutes; you decide on

‘waiting for you…’

The text right smack in the middle of the screen. He would be unable to miss it. You hold your breath once again, pressing send and breathing out; throwing your phone onto the bed and pacing around the room.

You wait a couple minutes before laying in bed, reaching for your phone and unlocking it. As you press on the Snapchat app, a little purple square catches your attention. Placed so nicely next to ‘Jake Kiszka.’ Your fingers shake a little as your heartbeat rings in your ears, beating quickly like a drum. This is Jacob Kiszka. The hot frat guy who sits in the back and fucks around all class. The hot frat guy that has never looked over at you or paid attention to you. You push yourself to return your focus to the screen in front of you, pressing the little purple square. You could not prepare yourself for what was about to take over the entirety of your screen.

The video starts with the bottom half of Jake’s face, he has a straight face; he doesn’t bother to smile. The video pans down slowly to expose his smooth chest, lightly covered by an extremely unbuttoned shirt. You can’t help yourself but stare in disbelief at the filthiness covering your screen. The camera keeps making its way down, reaching the area underneath his bellybutton. Your breath hitches as he keeps going; the video ends right before the camera reaches the hem of his boxers.

Holy shit.

You don't waste a second to lay yourself comfortably in bed, pushing your chest out a little again, and repeating the same video that he sent you. You hit record and slowly make your way down, all the way down, as you reach your underwear; you lower the camera so all he can see is you placing your finger inside the lacy material; ending the video. You don't type anything and send the video.

He immediately watches it. You smile to yourself; wondering if your acts are placing an effect on him. He takes a couple seconds to answer, and you're unable to prepare yourself for the response, once again.

He doesn't send a video, but a picture of his lap. He's laid in bed, his length hard underneath his boxers; the tip tucked into his skinny jeans. You're in shock at the content you just witnessed. You close your phone quickly and shut your eyes as you try to take a deep breath- wanting to slow down your heart rate. Your moment of meditation ends quickly as the sound of a snapchat notification replaces all your thoughts. You unlock your phone quickly and notice Jacob has sent a chat, you don't waste a second opening it.

Jake Kiszka. : dorm #

He doesn't say anything else. You don't care about manners at this point. You quickly put on an oversized shirt before replying.

You : 504B

You send the text and close your phone, taking a deep breath. Your mind traces back to his cock exposed on your screen and you already feel turned on by him, without his presence. A couple minutes pass by and you stand up to examine yourself in the mirror, taking deep breaths trying to calm down so you can appear laid-back like him. The knock at the door makes you jump, staring at yourself wide-eyed in the mirror. You quickly walk over to your door; unlocking it and letting him in.

He smiles down at you with a smug look, you can't help yourself but take in the view in front of you. He was wearing the same clothes as in the picture, and your eyes make their way to his.

"I'm Jake." He says, softly as he makes his way over to the bed, sitting down. You smile at him, wondering where the softness came from. You follow him to the bed and stand in front of him.

"Hi. I'm [y/n]." You reply and he smiles, taking out his hand to kiss yours. Your heart flutters at the change of pace, confusion takes over your thoughts as you watch him act so kind. You place your hand in his but he does not kiss it, instead he pulls you towards him. Your faces inches apart.

"Lets skip the small talk." He says quietly, you feel his warm breath on your lips. You don't waste a second to lean in and kiss him quickly; stepping closer and straddling his lap on your bed; your soft sheets rubbing against your knees. Jake is a good kisser- an excellent one. You bite his bottom lip softly, pulling back to look at him in the eyes. He groans softly at the action, letting you taste him. You let go and kiss him again, as he pulls you closer. His large hands take over a big portion of your back. He pulls away to have a moment to speak.

"I'm going to fuck your mouth." He declares and you can't help but nod. "I want that shirt off. No time to be shy. Let me see those pretty tits." Fuck, he is not shy at all.

You listen to his commands like a well trained dog, getting off his lap and placing yourself on your knees- lifting your arms with your shirt as you take it off.

"That's right. Show me what's hiding under there. As if I haven't seen it already, tease" He says, quietly. You can't help but blush at his commands. A guy has never taken over you like this and you loved it. You throw the shirt somewhere around the room but don't take your eyes off of Jake. Not breaking eye contact.

You look up at him through your eyelashes, biting your bottom lip as your hands make their way to his belt- unbuckling it slowly. He stares at you, watching your every move. Examining your figure as your fingers wrap around the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down slowly. His breath hitches as your fingers slip inside the band of his underwear, the warmth of his skin almost burning your fingertips. He gets up for a slight second, pulling off his jeans and underwear. You hold back a gasp as his large length sticks right up, covering almost your entire face. You look up at him, approaching it slowly- wrapping your hand around the girth as you begin to stroke him slowly.

He twitches in your hand and you feel the wetness soak through your underwear. He stares you down, his eyes burning into your soul. Your lips approach the tip of his cock as you wrap them around him, slowly bringing your head down to the base; taking in his full length. He reaches the back of your throat and you hold back a gag; wanting to keep the moment as sexy as possible.

"Such a pretty good girl. always in the front of the class- don't wanna miss anything huh? Is that why you never come to my parties? You scared of me, darling?" He states, and you don't answer. You feel a little shocked by how much you feel seen. You wonder if he had added you on purpose, if he did see you. You want to pause and ask him, but instead you begin bobbing your head up and down his length while quickening the pace. He moans softly and places his large hand on the back of your head, pushing you down.

He begins to thrust in your mouth and you stop moving, letting him take complete control of your mouth. You hum softly against his cock to send vibrations onto his gorgeous length- and he loves it. He moans louder.

"You sent me that on purpose. Filthy." He looks down and smiles at you sheepishly, thrusting faster and deeper in your mouth if that was even possible. "I bet this is exactly what you wanted, huh?" He adds. You nod and he pulls out of your mouth, placing his hands on your sides to pull you up and place you on the bed face down.

Your ass is perked up as Jake stands behind you, examining your curves. You feel his pointer finger make its way inside the band of your underwear, pulling on it slowly as he makes his way down to your soaking centre.

"So fucking wet already. Dirty, dirty girl." He says softly, his lips making their way to your ass, planting soft warm kisses against your skin. You're taken by surprise when a loud 'smack' from his hand makes its way to your ass. You moan in response, shaking under his touch.

"That's what you get for sending that. Like a fucking whore. You want my cock? Ask for it." He smacks your ass once again, his rough hands working so well for you.

"I- I want you" You can barely say, as his fingers slowly make their way to your inner thighs, reaching for your wet slit.

"That's not what I asked." Jake says, his fingers reaching your soaked underwear. He reaches in and places them to the side, stepping closer. You feel his hard length against your leg, only making you wetter. His fingers start rubbing your clit, slow, slow circles.

"Jake. Please." You whimper, his fingers placing the loveliest effect on your warm centre. He slips a finger in, thrusting it in and out slowly.

"Third time's the charm, babe." He whispers, his face next to your ear. You shake under his touch; his fingers moving so nicely inside of you. You squeeze around them, whimpering. "C'mon. Beg." He says. Your skin tingles, as you bite your lip hesitating. You build up the courage to ask him what he's waiting for.

"I want your cock. Please. Please Jake. I want you inside me. I sent it on purpose- Please." You crumble under his touch. You hear him smile as his fingers pulls out of you. You turn around so you can face him, and watch him grab a condom out of his jeans pocket. He opens the package with his teeth and pulls the condom out, making eye contact with you as he rolls it on his hard length. He smiles down at you as he makes his way closer, now he's standing in front of you at the edge of the bed.

You back up a little so he can climb on, but he has other plans. Jake grabs your hips and pull you to the edge of the bed. He lines up his dick to your entrance, rubbing you with his tip. You whimper under his touch, and he smiles at your reaction.

"Is this what you wanted? To be shaking on my cock when I'm not even inside you yet?" He chuckles and you whimper. He inserts the tip but doesn't go further. You gasp; adjusting to his length.

"What do you want. Tell me" He pauses, waiting for you to beg.

"You. Inside. Please." You reply quickly and he wastes no time, inserting himself fully. He gives you a couple seconds to adjust before thrusting slowly. You moan and shake underneath him. His hands grabbing your hips make you feel like you belong to him; and you love it.

You wrap your legs around his body and pull him closer, he gasps and starts thrusting faster; his moans filling up the room. You hold him close as he places both his hands around you, fucking you so well.

You place your hand on his chest and he pauses, giving you a confused look. In a way, and you aren't entirely sure how; you find the force to push him off and spin him onto the bed. Climbing over him and lowering yourself down on his cock, you begin thrusting yourself onto him. He closes his eyes and throws his head back, placing his hands on your hips once again.

"Fuck. Riding me so well like the whore you are." He moans, his left hand letting go of your hip and making its way to your breast. He pulls your bra down so both your tits are out, he stares at you in awe as you bounce so gracefully on top of him. His quiet moans mixed with yours fill up the room as you both become close.

"If you keep going this way I'm shooting my load inside you, darling. Fuck. You're doing so good." He moans. You squeeze around him and the noises coming out of him just pushes you closer and closer to your climax.

"You feel so good, Jake." You moan and he smiles sheepishly. He starts thrusting up into you, the action causing your climax to be seconds away.

"I'm gonna-" You start but he cuts you off.

"Fucking cum on my cock, slut. You wanted this, fucking do it" He moans. "I'm there, too, fuck." You squeeze around him as your orgasm takes over; leaving you a shaking mess around him. His load bursts into you, filling you with warmth and please rolls over you both. He moans your name and your heart melts, as you breathe out, getting off of him and laying next to him.

He breathes fast and turns his head to you, facing you and making eye contact; almost looking into your soul as you've just shown a stranger one of your most vulnerable states.

"That was.." You pause and he smiles. "It was amazing." You finish and he nods, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm so glad I added you on that stupid app. I was going to send you something." He smiles and your heart drops.

"You noticed me?" You ask, your voice almost shaky as the heartbeat in your throat shakes your vocal cords.

"Always have. Glad you made the first move, darling." He says softly and you melt, your mind replaying the events that just happened; as you fall asleep next to him.

357 notes · View notes

itzynabi · 4 months

Text

together

summary: in which someone talks to eve

set: 3 nov 2018

word count: 3.1k

warnings: talks of depression & mental health, mention of food. pls tell me if i missed anything

an: the gif is mine. if im being honest, this was a very self indulgent scenario of things i wish i was told, but it was surprisingly hard to write bcs i had no idea how i wanted to be comforted. anyways, i hope you like it! words im bold are english. feedback and reblogs are much appreciated 💐

eve’s masterlist

A plate of food was placed in front of Eve. “How are you feeling?”

She looked up at her brother as he sat down opposite her at the table. “...I’m not sure.” She could tell he wasn’t satisfied with her answer, but he didn’t push it. Thankfully.

Following her breakdown five days ago, Kibum became very involved in her life. Every morning and night, he would ask her how she was feeling; she had to write in a journal — she didn’t have to show him anything she wrote, though; they went on walks together with his dogs. He wanted to help her.

“I’m going to meet up with Taeyeon today. You’re going to training, right?”

Eve shook her head. “The trainers are still sorting out whatever the problem is. But I’m gonna go to a dance class with Chaeryeong and Ryujin. Then we’ll get lunch and they have to do homework, so we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Okay.” Kibum nodded. “On your way back, can you pick the dogs up from the day care centre? I’ll send you the address.”

“Okie dokie,” she agreed. “Can we eat now?”

“Yes. Yes, we can.”

Ryujin groaned as Eve massaged her shoulders. “Everything hurts.”

The three girls had finished their dance class at a studio. It was their first time going to that studio, so they didn’t know what to expect, and they quickly realised how under prepared they were. The two hour class started and ended with thirty minutes of cardio to ‘help with their stamina.’ Or so they were told.

Chaeryeong returned to their booth with a tray full of their food. “My legs felt like jelly when I was fetching the tray,” she told her friends.

“It’s only my back that’s sore,” Eve said. She stopped massaging Ryujin — causing the girl to groan louder — and turned to face their food.

Chaeryeong slid into the booth, groaning in relief when her legs stopped paining. “You’re lucky, unnie.”

“How isn’t everything sore for you?” Ryujin asked, taking her soda.

Eve answered as she sorted through all of their food, giving each girl their meal, “I did this type of stuff in strength and conditioning for ballet. It wasn’t really cardio focused, but everything would get worked out and exercised.”

Chaeryeong slumped against the booth. “I should’ve gone to your school. Then I would’ve been so strong.”

“Even the teacher said she has good muscle,” Ryujin commented, dipping one of her chips into tomato sauce.

Eve picked up a slice of her potato and bacon pizza. “I’m only strong because I actually work out,” she said before taking a bite.

“We also work out!” Chaeryeong argued, sitting up so she could start eating her cheeseburger.

“But unnie works out every week,” Ryujin pointed out as she took the gherkins out of her hamburger, putting them on the side of her plate, “we work out once a month. Sometimes once every two months.”

Chaeryeong nodded in agreement. “True. She could be a national athlete with how much she works out,” she joked with a giggle.

Ryujin nodded, also giggling. “She should do women’s footb–”

She stopped speaking as the intro to La Vie en Rose started playing from the restaurant speakers. Both her and Chaeryeong glanced at Eve, who was too busy enjoying her pizza to notice. She looked up from her plate when she noticed the silence at the table.

“What’s going on?” She asked, putting her pizza back on her plate. She looked around the restaurant in confusion before hearing Eunbi’s part of the verse playing. “Oh.” She simply said, returning to her pizza with an indifferent shrug.

She hadn’t told anyone about her mental breakdown, but she knew her friends knew that something was up with her. Eve tried to conceal the way her hand trembled slightly by using two hands to eat her pizza.

“You don’t have to, like, act weird around me,” she said when she noticed how Ryujin and Chaeryeong were trying — and failing — to pretend they weren’t watching her.

Chaeryeong chuckled awkwardly, fussing with her hair. “We’re not acting weird.”

Eve rolled her eyes dramatically with a groan as she put down her pizza. “I flopped my way out of debuting in IZ*ONE. It’s not the end of the world. I’m okay. You can talk about the group, or the song, or anything — I won’t freak out. It’s not a big deal.” Even to her own ears, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself of what she was saying.

“Well, yeah, it’s just… I mean, you really wanted to debut, Nabi unnie. And we were all voting for you and everything and… It’s just a bit awkward because you don’t seem sad but you also do?” Ryujin said, scrunching her face more and more as she spoke. “You haven’t said anything, but we can tell that something’s upsetting you.”

Eve sighed. “It’s just the normal disappointment that comes with not getting something you wanted. You guys know what it’s like, you both didn’t get to debut through the survival shows you were on. I’m dealing with it in my own way, but I’m fine. Besides, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be proud of your sister,” she told Chaeryeong. “I didn’t debut, but she did. That’s great!”

Ryujin nodded slowly. “Acting like this must make it harder to get over it, right?”

“Yep,” Eve said, popping the last P. “It’s almost suffocating.” She stole a chip from her friends’ plates, trying to lighten the mood again. She knew she succeeded when Ryujin took one of the cubes of potato off of her pizza and Chaeryeong took a sip of her soda.

The three girls finished eating their food as they talked some more. Within another ten minutes, they had finished their food and had left the restaurant. They stood outside the building, watching as cars drove by.

“Well, it was nice hanging with you guys,” Eve said, knowing that Ryujin and Chaeryeong were going to do their homework. “Enjoy doing your essays.”

Ryujin and Chaeryeong shared a look before the former girl stepped closer to Eve. “Unnie, we’re not going to do homework. We’re… We’re going to the company.”

Eve blinked repeatedly, shaking her head. “What do you mean? There isn’t any training. There hasn’t been for a while.”

”It’s because we’re not training, we’re debuting,” Chaeryeong said. “That’s why there hasn’t been any training. Just like when TWICE sunbaenim and STRAY KIDS sunbaenim were preparing for their debuts.”

“Oh,” Eve said, not knowing how to react. She felt a bunch of conflicting emotions. “Um… I’m happy for you!” She weakly cheered. “You guys are… gonna do so well. Um, I have to go fetch Commes Des and Garçon now, but… Wow! Congratulations! Really. Bye.”

She turned around and walked away, not waiting to listen if her friends were going to say anything. She quickly went to fetch her brother’s dogs and returned home. She put some dog food and water in their bowls, still thinking about what Chaeryeong and Ryujin told her.

Eve truly didn’t know how to feel about it. She obviously was happy for them — who wouldn’t be? But she was also… jealous. She worked insanely hard to be good at her craft, but it wasn’t enough. Jinyoung wasn’t kidding when he said that her performance in Produce 48 would affect whether or not she would debut in the new girl group.

Kibum entered the passcode to his apartment, walking in. “Thanks for coming, noona,” he said as Taeyeon walked in behind him.

“It’s okay,” Taeyeon waved him off, “don’t mention it. By the way, where are Commes Des and Garçon?” She asked, noticing how the dogs didn’t rush to greet them and how they weren’t in the living room.

Kibum frowned as he looked around the room. “I don’t know. Nabi said she’d fetch them. Maybe they’re on a walk?” He poked his head into his room, not noticing how Taeyeon went to open Eve’s bedroom door.

“I found them,” she whisper-shouted. She heard Kibum walk towards her until he was standing behind her, staring at the sight in front of the both of them: Eve curled up in bed with both of the dogs in her arms as she slept. Garçon wasn’t facing them, and therefore hadn’t seen them, but Commes Des was staring right at them. Both dogs were awake, watching over Eve as she slept.

“Was she crying?” Taeyeon asked, noticing dried tear streaks on Eve’s face. She started walking forward, but was stopped by Commes Des growling.

Kibum groaned, “Why are you growling? What’s the problem?”

Commes Des squirmed his way out of Eve’s hold, standing just in front of her as Garçon turned around to face the two idols. Eve stirred softly as Commes Des kept growling.

“Bro, chill,” she mumbled, raising her right arm to gently stroke his back. “Relax.”

“He was about to attack me,” Taeyeon joked, nodding her head slowly and squinting her eyes in the way she usually did.

Eve sat up slowly, still holding onto Garçon. She yawned as she fully woke up and rubbed her eyes. “What’re you doing here, ahjumma?”

“Kibum-ah asked me to talk to you,” she answered, pointing at the man.

Eve simply blinked. “Are you my therapist?”

Taeyeon chuckled, walking fully into the room and sitting down next to Eve. “I’m not your therapist, no. I’m just… here to talk. About whatever you want.”

“I’ll be next door,” Kibum said, turning around to walk away. Garçon and Commes Des followed him out of the room, probably so they could force him to play with them.

“Do you want me to close the door?” Taeyeon asked, pointing at it. Eve hesitated before nodding and Taeyeon got up to close it before returning to sit next to her. “So…”

“So…” Eve echoed. “What did ahjussi tell you?”

Taeyeon sharply inhaled. “That you broke down–”

“True.”

“–, that your depression is worse–”

“Yep.”

“–, and that he’s worried about you and doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Yeah…”

“Oh! Also that you wrote a song.”

Eve nodded. “Oh, yeah. I did. Would you like to hear it? Or read the lyrics? I didn’t actually record it, so…”

Taeyeon nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okie dokie.” Eve stood up and walked to her desk. She ruffled among the many papers lying all over the desk, letting out a soft ‘Ah-ha!’ when she found the exam pad she wrote the song on. “I wrote it in English, but I wrote a Korean version of it,” she told Taeyeon as she walked back to the older girl and handed her the exam pad.

The room was quiet as Taeyeon read over the lyrics, only the sound of her flipping the page to fill the room. Eve used the time to observe Taeyeon. She knew that Taeyeon also had depression — she sang about it. It was through talking with her and Jonghyun that she realised she might have depression. She went to a psychologist to get diagnosed, but didn’t see the point of going to therapy because she felt it wasn’t serious enough for therapy.

When Taeyeon was done reading, she closed the exam pad and put it down next to her. “Well, that’s… Well, it’s sad. Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s not much to talk about really,” Eve said with a shrug. “I mean, it’s all clear.”

“Okay. Then can you tell me why you were crying?” Taeyeon asked, gesturing at Eve’s face.

Eve visibly hesitated. “Um, my friends are debuting. That’s why there hasn’t been any training. The company stops training when a group is preparing for debut to stop the chances of the song or choreography being leaked. I found out today when we were eating lunch. It was just… PD- nim told me he wanted to debut a new group. He told me that my performance in Produce 48 would affect whether or not I debut in the group and… I didn’t make it into the group so… Yeah.”

Taeyeon’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry, Nabi.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything. It’s not your fault. I should’ve done a better job on Produce 48, it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Taeyeon told her.

“Yes, it is. I was the one competing, I was the one that performed, I was the one that didn’t do her best. I’m the one that’s at fault,” she said, feeling herself get emotional again. “I’m happy for my friends, but I feel like…”

“Like that should be you?” Taeyeon finished for her, Eve nodding.

“I’m not saying they don’t deserve it, I just want it for myself,” she explained. “I’ve been a trainee for so long, I’ll never debut at this point. I should just switch to becoming a full-time ballerina. I can audition for the national ballet and–”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Taeyeon waved her arms around. “Nabi, you’re going to debut. You just need to keep going.”

Eve scoffed. “Unnie, I’m not debuting. It’s been six years, okay. I’ve showcased everything that I possibly could — I have nothing left. The company’s probably going to cut their losses and just tell me to end my contract. I wouldn’t fault them or anything. I pretty much embarrassed them. So, I’ll just reinvent myself and do bal–”

“Why are you so adamant on giving up?”

“Because I’m tired!” She exclaimed. “I’m tired of everything. I just want to stop.”

Taeyeon wrapped her arm around Eve, squeezing the younger girl’s shoulder. “Agi-yah, I know it’s hard right now, but it’ll get better soon. Unnie promises. I’m here, Key’s here, everyone’s here. And we’re going to support you, okay? Just hold on a little longer.”

They were silent for some time as Eve calmed herself down. From outside her room, they could hear Kibum trying to bargain with the dogs to get them to let him rest. “I don’t know what’s wrong, it’s… Something is broken,” Eve said. “I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Taeyeon comforted. “I know it feels that way — I know that’s what your brain is telling you —, but trust me, Nabi-yah. You’re not broken. All you need is to get help — professional help.”

“Oppa said the same thing. We’re in the process of looking for a therapist that won’t tell me it’s all in my head.”

‘I mean, technically, it is all in your head,'' Taeyeon joked, trying to get Eve to smile. “It’s a mental illness. In your mi–”

“I get it, oh my goodness.”

Taeyeon chuckled. “You know I’m here for you if you need anything? We’re in this together, okay? I don’t call you Kim Maknae for nothing, so come to me whenever. I know what you’re going through — I’ve been there. I won’t leave you to go through this alone. We’ll take it step by step by step by step. You’re doing so well and I can see your hard work.”

Eve nodded. “Thank you, ahjumma. It means a lot.”

She squeezed Eve’s shoulder. “It’s no problem. And you do realise that when you go to therapy, you’ll have to talk about your feelings, right?”

Eve groaned, throwing her head back as Taeyeon cackled. “I’m not looking forward to it.”

“Just pretend your therapist is me and you’ll be fine.”

“But,” Eve started, her voice slightly more uncertain, “I’ve, like… Like, I’ve…”

“Yeah,” Taeyeon encouraged.

Eve sighed frustratedly. “I don’t know, it’s… I’ve basically, like, found a way to mould my life around my depression. It isn’t constantly bad or anything like that, but it’s there. And I know how to go through life while being depressed, you know? And… I guess, I’m just… Who am I without depression?” She asked, not actually expecting Taeyeon to answer. “When I went to that psychologist, he told me that I most likely started feeling depressed when I was twelve and subconsciously found a way to, like, ignore it, or whatever, but he could see the effects it had on me. He said the reason it was getting more apparent than before was because I was feeling more and more stressed and he gave me ways to manage them. And I follow the tips, and I do the stretches and meditations, and I’ve, like, reworked my personality around this depression thing, and… I don’t know who I am,” she finished, panting lightly.

“I relate to that,” Taeyeon said after a minute of silence. “You spend so long being depressed that you can’t remember who you were before you were depressed. Or, you do remember who you were, but it’s so similar to who you are now that you start to wonder if you’re actually depressed. So then the question becomes, ‘Is it that I’ve been depressed for longer than I realised?’ Or it’s, ‘Am I even depressed enough to warrant seeking help?’ Or, it’s ‘Am I even depressed at all?’ And honestly, Nabi, I don’t know what it is. I so badly wish I could tell you the answer, but the truth is, I’m also figuring that out. Like I said, we’re doing this together. So, if you find out the answer to that question first, tell me,” she joked.

Eve nodded with a chuckle. “Okay, okay. I have no more questions to ask now,” she said.

“Yeah? I find that hard to believe, but I’ll take it.” She stood up, removing her arm from Eve’s shoulder. “Let’s go out there. We bought you a cake. And, hey. If you’re not added to that debut in JYP by the end of the year, I’ll use my connections to have you debut solo. Or I’ll add you to Red Velvet.”

Eve rolled her eyes as she stood up. “Why would you add me to a group that’s been active for four years? I appreciate the sentiment, but seriously?”

Taeyeon scoffed, opening the door. “It’s the thought that counts,” she whined as they walked into the living room.

Kibum looked up as he threw a toy for Garçon to chase after. “Are you done?”

Taeyeon nodded. “We talked and talked.”

He shifted his gaze to his sister. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, actually,” Eve said with a deep exhale. “Ahjumma said things that I needed to hear. Thanks for arranging this.”

“Of course, you don’t have to mention it,” he said, sighing as Garçon put the toy back in his hands. They all watched as Commes Des stalked over to Taeyeon, the idol picking the dog up.

“I heard there’s cake.”

an: i dont go to jype so idk they actually stop training when a group is preparing for debut, but i thought it would be a cool thing to add/write about

tagging: @seolboba // @ateezivy // @ateezjuliet // @cafemilk-tea // @smh-anon // @alixnsuperstxr // @cosmicwintr // @girlzwfun // @txt-yaomi // @moongrlz

©️ kim nabi

#ficnetfairy #itzy 6th member #itzy sixth member #itzy oc #itzy addition #itzy added member #itzy extra member #itzy member au #itzy imagines #kpop oc #kpop addition #kpop added member #kpop extra member #kpop au #kpop imagines

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potatoes-tomatoes · 11 months

Note

Those questions are all so good, I can't pick!

1-30 pls? The ones you feel like doing 🫶

I have special interest in your thoughts on veganism tho

chipotle order?

carnitas bowl with pinto beans lettuce tomatoes crema guac and cheese

2. thoughts on veganism?

ain’t for me. I wasn’t born and raised to say no to meat as a hispanic texan. I feel it’s too self righteous a lifestyle, and somethin that’s very…hm… class restricted I’ll say. You gotta be able to afford sayin no to animal products. I understand in practice it’s so that one doesn’t partake in the loss of life or harm to an animal… but it’s like, why restrict that guilt to animals? Why restrict it to signals only we easily perceive? Trees and plants communicate to each other too, they also send their own signals of distress when in danger. They’re their own form of sentient. Whatever we eat, we are taking some or all the life of. (I guess except for eggs? bc that's just chicken period) That’s just something we must accept.

Also sometimes the marketing for it I find is funny. “vegan leather” you mean synthetic shit?? "yeah I'm sippin outta my vegan cup oh what brand is it you ask heh, Solo." like c'mon man. get outta here.

3. a specific color that gives you the ick?

I believe all colors have the potential to be beautiful within the right palette

4. mythical creature you think/believe is real?

answered!

5. Favorite form of potato?

Frenchly Fried

6. do you use a watch?

nah just my phone

7. what animal do you look forward to seeing when you visit an aquarium?

the seals

8. do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home?

ya my pjs (old shirt and sweats)

9. do you have a skincare routine (and how many steps is it)?

wash my face with face cleanser, put on moisturizer. every other day or so I put on an innisfree mask.

10. on a plane, do you ask for apple or orange juice?

I ask for a coffee with two creams and no sugar.

11. anything from your childhood you’ve held on to?

Oh many things, i got a bin full of em. sketchbooks, elementary yearbooks, diaries. My prized posession is my first stuffed bear, Clover. She’s stuck with me since I was 6 years old!

12. brand of haircare/bodycare/skincare that you trust 100%?

;–; none of them they all did me dirty. and I get too overwhelmed to look into what brands are the cheapest and best for my skin/hair.

13. first thing you’re doing in the purge?

stealing money to pay off my goddamn loans. That or I'd like to know who directly could cancel my loans (like is there a. like a "cancel loan" button on a computer or what. who's in charge of that button. I'm so smart guys I know exactly how the banking system works) so I could spook them into getting it done for me. I wouldn't hurt anyone, but I'd look the part to get them to do what I want.

14. do you think you’re dehydrated?

nah i drink plenty water.

15. rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning

oof that’s tough. They all seem equal to me.

16. thoughts on mint chocolate chip?

LOVE LOVE LOVE!!

17. an anxious compulsion you do everyday?

I often check to see if my back is straight or if I’m not pursing my lips

18. your boba/tea order

matcha or taro, blended.

19. the veggie you dislike the most?

lima beans eughhh

20. favorite disney princess movie?

Tangled

21. a number that weirds you out?

my ex's (badum tsh)

22. do you have an emotional support water bottle?

I am in possession of only one water bottle

23. do you wear jewelry?

no. I own some though for some reason.

24. which do you find yourself using, american or british english?

American, but I prefer using the british grey instead of american gray.

25. would you say you have good taste in music?

My taste in music is the only thing abt myself I’m confident in hgjkfd yes I would say so.

26. how’s your spice tolerance?

Take a look at my hispanic card you’ll see “güerita“ in bright bold lettering.

27. what’s your favorite or go-to outfit?

jeans and a t-shirt with my chanclas

28. last meal on earth?

Fettuccine Alfredo

29. preferred pasta noodle?

Bowties, they funky

30. ask me anything !

well gosh how am I supposed to answer this one y’aint sent me nothin on it pinsky XD

#I do my best to research stuff I don't like so if i have any vegan followers who got choice words to say to me by all means come my way #cel speaks #cel answers

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moemoemammon · 3 years

Note

Omg that one you did of Mc asking the boys to do things they love was sooooo adorable. How about one with the brothers of when Mc calls him his name instead of the usual 'sweatheart' 'darling' 'love' or 'honey'. I love watching those tiktoks when the boys get all concerned or scared lol.

"Honey?" You NEVER Call Me That!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer isn't a man who fears the tone of a person's voice. And yet something about yours made him... tense.

Not that he'll show it, though. So you can expect a mellow reaction as he approaches you, brow raised like YOU did something.

Got his arms crossed over his chest in that pompous way of his, but you can see the slightest crease in his brow. You're giving this man even more grey hairs

He doesn't speak at first, but now he's going over every plan he's ever made with you. Did he forget something? Your birthday? A date?? No, there's no way he would. His schedule was always memorized perfectly....hmm........

"What is it, MC? I'm assuming there's something you'd like to talk to me about? Judging from the tone of your voice, I'm assuming something's happened? If it's something I've done, I'd like to hear it."

Mammon

IMMEDIATE FEAR

Hearing the singsong tone of your voice when you coo out a sweet "Honey~" is enough to send shivers down his spine. What do you wANT 🔫

VERY CAUTIOUSLY approaches you, peeking around the corner like a scared puppy. He doesn't think anything good can come from this...

Also ready to fight though? It's his defense mechanism. He's already got his fists up like he’d ever use em against you tho

"Wh-whatever it is, I ain't have any part in it! Beel's the one that was eye in' your leftovers, and all I said was that you probably didn't want em anymore! I didn't think he’d- .... wait, that's not what ya wanted..? Then ignore everythin' I just said!"

Levi

His gamer instinct tells him something is wrong-

Did he forget to send you AP? Did you guys have a raid scheduled that he missed out on?? AH! DID HE ACCIDENTALLY CALL YOU RURI-CHAN AGAIN?!?!

Please don't do this to him Levi is a sea creechur made out of anxiety you know this pl- wait a minute he saw this trending on tiktok

You FOOL.. the sickening sweetness of your tone has NO EFFECT!!! His poison resistance is through the roof!!!

"Ha! You thought I wouldn't see through your normie tactics?! I never forget an internet trend!" "....But you know, I didn't really hate it when you called me that-"

Satan

Immune to your foolishness

Honestly would just respond with 'yes'? because there's nothing about your tone that fazes him.

You fool... Satan is the MASTER of vague yet sinister one-word threats. It's practically his entire personality.

He still thinks it's funny that you're trying to get a reaction out of him, but you'll have to try harder than that. There's no way tiny baby MC can scare him ✨

"If you really want to scare someone, why don't you try that on Mammon? Don't you think his reaction will be funny? Or better yet, you could do the 'MAMMOOONNN' thing Lucifer does. Would you like me to record it?"

Asmo

"Yes, love~?"

Also immune. It's not that he doesn't think you're scary, but-... well.. actually, he probably doesn't think you're scary.

Then again, is there anyone Asmo takes seriously?? Probably not lmao-

He'll pinch your cheeks and spin you around the room, completely disregarding the sappy tone in your voice. Is there any reason you'd be mad at him anyway? You can't be angry with a man THIS gorgeous!

"Did you miss me that much? Oooh, I bet you did! That's why you had to use that tone with me, isn't it? There there, I'll give you lots of love!❤️"

Beel

You made him INHALE a potato chip and now he's choking.

When he recovers, he's looking at you quizzically. Then the caution starts to set in, and now he's recounting every sin he's ever committed against you.

There's so much he's done that he hasn't told you about, but that was before he cared about you! You can't be mad, right? Er.. you're not, right??

wait what did Mammon tell you whatever it is it's not true he can explain-

"Mammon tricked me. He told me you wouldn't mind if I ate your leftovers, so I did. Then he took a photo of me and told me he’d use it as blackmail. I didn't know, so I'll treat you to lunch, and-"

Belphie

How you managed to make him wake up is unknown, but the way you said 'honey~' made Belphie flinch awake like he was having a nightmare

He's looking around like a scared toddler and finally spots YOU, standing in his doorway

It takes him a minute to process what's going on, but now he's AWAKE.

You're not really mad, right? He knows you don't normally call him that, so he must've done something. But how is that possible if he's been in the attic all day??

"...Huh? What're you angry with me for? I was sleeping here all day, so- Wait... don't tell me I forgot something important today? Did we have a date??"

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golden-barnes · 3 years

Text

Audacity

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky has a long list of reasons to hate John Walker. But the fake Captain America deciding to flirt with you, definitely takes the cake.

Category: Smut 18+

Warning: Jealous Bucky is just soft dom! Bucky, dirty talk, penetrative sex, slight chocking, closet sex, and just John Walker being annoying

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: trying out this new format bc I liked the way it look when I did the Spencer Reid fic. A small spoiler warning for the newest FATWS episode but other than that it’s like an AU bc this really has nothing to do with yesterdays’ episode. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!

There’s a lot to hate about John Walker. The fact that he is trying to replace Steve as a cheap version of Captain America. His stupid face and the way he handles the shield. Even the way he speaks comes off as pretentious and arrogant.

But what really made Bucky seethe with anger is the fact that his little beady eyes would not stop looking at you. Undressing you with his eyes. Taking in every move and gesture you made. It made Bucky’s blood boil. He kept clenching and unclenching his fist. How haven’t you noticed his insisting fucking starring?

“Can you chip your teeth? Because I’m pretty sure you might by how clenched your jaw” Sam said, patting Bucky on the back. He just rolled his eyes but decided not to say anything.

There was nothing that can be done. They made a silent pack not to anger the imposter. The government had asked Sam, Bucky and you to help out with a smuggling ring that they have discovered and low and behold, their little Captain America got his ass handed to him. They basically begged them to help. Bucky almost screamed a Fuck no into their faces but you managed to hold him off from punching the soldier that appeared at your apartment.

You turned around and bent over to pick up something. You were unaware that the fake Captain America licked his crusty lips while looking at you. He kept eying you like a piece of meat. Bucky rolled his eyes again and turned to Sam who was quietly reading the reports.

“Can I punch him?” Bucky whispered to Sam.

“Do you want your pardon to be revoked?” Sam said to him, not even looking up from the reports.

“There’s nobody here. Y/N won’t say anything. You definitely won’t mind.” Bucky whispered, glaring at the blond man that kept staring at you. You clearly didn’t give a shit about him. Therefore, why was he still looking at you?

Sam rolled his eyes at his ex-assassin friend. “Yeah, and later we can steal the shield.” Sam looked up from the reports and pushed them to the side.

“Exactly! Yeah, now that’s a plan.” Bucky said excitedly, standing up from his chair trying to make his way to John before being stopped by Sam, who grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him back into his chair. Before Bucky could protest, he heard you whistle at them.

“Hey, guys! I think I have something.” You said. The three men surrounded you, while you were explaining how you found out the new base location for the smuggling ring.

Bucky tried his best to focus on what you were saying and your explanation, but he couldn’t help but notice that the Kmart version of Captain America was inching closer and closer to you. Didn’t this man have a wife? Bucky swore he read that somewhere. Why does he keep staring and getting closer to you?

“Oh! Sorry, ma’am.” The jackass said, when he “accidentally” bumped into you, he grabbed your waist and forearm to stabilize you.

“It’s okay.“ You told him, and let out a soft chuckle. Bucky felt his pen explode in his hand. The three of you turned to the pouty super soldier who just rolled his eyes and went back to looking at the schematics.

You knew something was up with Bucky. He didn’t say anything. Not after the pen exploding incident. Not even when you were joking around with Sam. He loved making witty comebacks to your jokes. It was your thing.

But maybe it was John Walker’s presence that made it uncomfortable for him. You knew Bucky hated the guy, mostly cause he took Steve’s spot without earning it. But there was something more to this. Bucky has always had a staring problem, but the number of sharp glares he has been sending to Walker has been enough to alert anyone. You couldn’t comfort him, not without making it super apparent that you are dating. And Bucky had already expressed that he doesn’t want to publicize it unless it’s only Sam that’s around.

“Agent Y/L/N, I think I found something,” Torres said, signaling to you to go follow him upstairs. You took one last look at Bucky, who was still glaring at the oblivious John Walker.

“Damn, I don’t know how you guys get any work done with that around you all the time,” John said, staring at you walking up the stairs. More specifically, staring at your ass.

Bucky looked at Sam, almost begging him to let him punch the douchebag that is this man. But Sam gripped his forearm. Bucky will not lose his pardon like this.

“How about we focus on the damn mission?” Bucky almost growled. John Walker put his hands up.

“I’m sorry man. It’s just- look at her.” John sat back and leaned into his chair. From the distance, he could see you talking to Torres.

“C’mon man. You asked us for our help but we aren’t here to do all the work.” Sam said trying to be the peacemaker between the super-soldier with a murderous gaze and the soldier with the wondering eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah sorry.” John said trying to go back to the records. You were descending from the stairs and walking over to them. John brought his attention back to you. The way your hips would sway when you walked. The confidence in every step. Everything Bucky loved, and apparently fucking John did too.

“Guys, I think we need to rest for today. I am a little bit burned out. I think we all are.” You said, with your hands on your hips. Bucky felt his heart clench, you did look tired. Especially because you were almost doing all the work and piecing all of the clues.

“That’s an incredible idea.” Sam said stretching in his chair. He also looked tired. It made Bucky feel bad that he has been focusing all his energy on glaring and not helping out. He almost felt guilty.

Almost because a surge of rage flows through him again. John “Can’t take a hint” Walker smirked at you while you were grabbing the files that were on the table.

Bucky didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye. To Sam or the annoying motherfucker that made Bucky want to break rule number 2.

“Woah, Buck. what are you doing?” You said while the brunet dragged you around the base. His grip on your forearm was hard but not enough for it to hurt. Bucky wouldn’t hurt you, not in any way you wouldn’t like it.

There was something about how Bucky was walking, the silence, the way he was searching for something but never letting go of you.

Bucky opened up a closet door.

“Get in, doll.” He whispered in your ear, in a low deep voice. You let out a gasp, feeling goosebumps all over your body. You looked at Bucky in the eyes, and you knew he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. You entered the closet space without protesting.

It was a small storage closet. It barely had anything in it so you felt cramped. You turned to Bucky, while he closed the door. The man stalked towards you and you walked backward till your back hit the wall. Bucky had you cornered, and you didn’t mind it.

“Did you have fun, doll?” Bucky said, getting close to your face. His hands went to your hips, pulling you towards him.

“Buck, what are you talking about?” You whispered to him. Bucky rolled his eyes and took one of his hands off your hips. Placing it on your neck, lightly applying some pressure to it. You gasped at his touch, he chuckled a bit at your reaction.

“C’mon darling. Did you have fun playing around with the imposter Captain America? I mean he had fun looking at you. So I’m assuming that you had fun being looked at.” He said, with his hand still on your neck and his face inches away from your face. You looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

“Oh, you didn’t notice that. Well, I did. Maybe I should teach you who do you belong to. Would you like that sweetheart?” He said, his breath tickling your lip. You nodded, breathless. Bucky smiled at you.

The hand that was around your neck, went to your chin. Grabbing it and pulling you closer so that your lips would meet. His hands started to wander across your body, while yours looped around his neck.

Your kisses started to grow hungrier, more desperate. As if Bucky spotted kissing you, you would fade away. His hands reached the zipper of your pants and pulled it down. Not even breaking from your kiss, Bucky managed to push your pants down. You break from your kiss to get out of them, while Bucky took off his pants and underwear.

He didn’t wait. He pushed you softly back on the wall and started to leave kisses and soft bites all over your neck.

“Jump, baby girl,” He said softly against your skin, patting your butt.

And you did just so. Wrapping your legs around his waist, with one of his hands on your ass and another moving your panties to the side.

“Hold that there, baby. Let me make you feel so good.” Holding his neck with one hand, you moved another hand to hold your panties to the side, to make it easy for him.

“Good girl.”And with one thrust, he was inside you, hitting all the spot. You moaned and gripped the back of his neck tightly.

“Like that doll? Can anyone else do this to you uhn? C’mon doll give me everything you got.” With every word that came out of his mouth, he would thrust hard and deep into you. You felt lightheaded. Your legs tightening around his waist but his thrust wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck, Buck. Don’t stop.” You gasped. Bucky kept kissing your neck. Overloading your senses. You were close, you knew it. Bucky knew it. You could feel him grin against your skin.

“Who makes you feel this good, doll?” He asked. You gasped at his sudden change in pace. He started to thrust more desperately, less controlled. He was close too.

“You. Fuck, only you.Shit, Bucky. I’m going to cum.” Bucky smirked at you.

“Then cum, doll.” Bucky silenced your cries with his lips. Still thrusting into you, letting you ride your high and getting to his. And that wouldn’t be long.

With one final thrust, Bucky came. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and let you down.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You said, putting on your pants.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He smiled at you. You slapped his chest lightly, which made him laugh.

“I hope you realize that I would never go with discount Captain America over there.” You joked which made Bucky laugh even harder. You both were dressed and tried to look as decent as you could to leave the closet and the base.

“Let’s hope that fucking in an army base won’t be the reason you lose your pardon.” You said, grabbing Bucky’s hand, to give him reassurance. He gave you a smirk.

“Maybe if we let them watch, they won’t take it away,” Bucky replied to you, giving you a wink.

“Yeah and get John Walker to join would also help your case.” Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked at you.

“Oh, you are gonna get it when we get home.” Now it was your turn to wink at your boyfriend.

“I’m hoping I do.” Bucky shook his head but pulled you closer to him. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, walking towards the exit of the base. Confident that John Walker couldn’t take you away from him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader smut #winter soldier x reader

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moonlit-jeno · 3 years

Text

red door, yellow door (m.)

pairing: mark lee x fem reader x jung jaehyun

words: 8.1k

a/n: this is a repost from my old bts blog! pls don’t ask abt it bc i no longer actively follow bts :)

One of these days, you’re going to kill your coworkers.

You love them, you really do, but sometimes they can just be so dumb. It was Donghyuck and Renjun who came up with the idea to play this stupid game, one that is probably only played by naive 12 year old girls during slumber parties.

Normally you’d just brush it off, but Renjun had called you a wimp, so naturally you had to do it. Which is how you’ve ended up on your back with your best friend massaging circles into your forehead.

“Red door, yellow door, any other color door,” is being chanted around the room. You fight the urge to move your neck to a more comfortable position on Mark’s lap. Your hand twitches above your head, where your arms are raised. “This is stupid,” You whisper, and Mark laughs, scolding you lightly.

After a while, the mindless chanting lulls you to sleep, and you feel yourself drift off.

“What do you see?”

Two doors appear in front of you, one red and one yellow. They both look kind of old, paint chipping and peeling off.

“Anything else?”

A black door appears next to the yellow one and you find yourself drawn to it, wanting to go in. This one is shinier, considerable newer and more inviting compared to the other two

“Go in.”

You open the door and walk through, a sense of relief flooding through your senses as you give in to the pull. The room that you find yourself in seems never ending, the only thing in it a large bed.

“Do you see anyone?”

A man appears, sitting on the bed. The suit he’s wearing is unfitting for the plain surroundings- in fact, he’s unfitting for the surroundings in general. His teeth are blinding white when he smiles, not a hair out of place on his entire head. He’s attractive, all golden skin and beautiful features. Almost too beautiful. A shiver crawls up your spine, a tinge of discomfort bleeding into your senses. He smiles, dimples popping out, and you push the discomfort to the back of your mind.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out distant to your own ears, echoing around you.

“Call me Jaehyun. Why don’t you come here, little bird? We can get properly acquainted.” The voice sounds haunting, like a distorted video. You wouldn’t believe that he’s speaking if his lips didn’t move in sync. Despite the unnatural voice sounding warning bells in your brain, you find yourself moving forward automatically and settling down on his lap when he pats his thigh for emphasis.

“And what’s your name, little bird?” He trails a hand up and down your thigh and you shiver, leaning back against him. He chuckles when you tell him your name, a pleased smile lighting up his features.

“Well, little bird, seems that we’re going to have some fun together.”

Your name is being echoed all around you, and you wake with a jolt, eyes flying open to see Mark staring at you.

“Are you okay?” The rest of your group is also gathered around you, standing in a half circle.

“Yeah, just fell asleep for a bit. Why?” You push yourself onto your elbows, sitting up so that you can lean against Mark.

Donghyuck plops down on the floor, sitting so that he’s facing you. “You were talking like you were having a conversation with someone. Who was it?”

You shrug, trying not to dull his excitement. “I don’t know, just some guy.”

“Was he wearing a suit?” Renjun asks, standing behind Hyuck. He grimaces when you nod. “Y/n, we literally told you not to talk to anyone in a suit. We told you not to talk to anyone. It’s in the rules.”

You roll your eyes, knowing how serious he gets when it comes to stuff like this. “Relax, it’s fine. He seemed nice, and it’s not like it was anything real.”

Renjun still doesn’t look convinced, but Mark interrupts his paranoia by doing what he’s best- or worst, depending on who you ask- at, cracking jokes.

“Hey, was he eating deviled eggs?” He laughs at his own joke, and everyone else groans. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. His place was probably such a hellhole.” The bad mood dissolves into jokes and loud laughter for the rest of the night.

You leave the party- or gathering as Donghyuck had called it because it sounded more mysterious- when it starts storming. The rain drenches you and pretty much everyone else that’s sitting on the porch, leaving you scrambling for shelter. Luckily, Mark offers you a ride.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Mark hollars out the window of his truck, his words getting lost in the night as he speeds off. His truck hits a pothole and you can imagine him swearing as his head hits the roof. Giggling to yourself, you unlock your apartment and slip inside. It’s close to 2 in the morning, so you decide that if you’re already not going to get that much sleep, why not binge Shameless?

You only get through two episodes before your eyelids feel heavy, and you have to fight to keep them open. On screen, there’s a bar fight that you try to take interest in, but sleep quickly pulls you under.

“Welcome back, little bird.” The voice is all around you, but no matter how much you turn and search, no one’s to be found.

“Turn around, little bird, I am here.” Spinning abruptly, you come face to face with the man from earlier, Jaehyun. He gives you a chilling grin.

“So we meet again,” he starts, and his voice no longer sounds eerie or inauthentic. He sounds like, well, a normal man. “Tell me, what would you do if I were to kiss you?”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips on instinct. “Depends. Are you a good kisser?” You aim for coy, but you miss the mark and land closer to worried.

“You could say that.” He pulls you close with one hand on the back of your head, stopping right before your lips. “May I?”

You nod, and he pulls you in for a gentle, closed mouth kiss.

It’s like that touch ignites a fire in you, because before you know it, your arms are thrown around his neck, dragging him closer to deepen the kiss. You lick along his lower lip and he readily grants you access, a throaty groan leaving him when you suck on his tongue. Liquid heat courses through your veins when he nips at your lower lip, tongue flicking over it in apology. You moan, raw and needy. He likes that, if the chuckle and wicked grin is anything to go by. Picking you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, he walks over to a bed that definitely wasn’t there before.

He drops you on the bed, and then suddenly you’re both naked. Jaehyun leans over you, all lean muscles and golden skin. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his legs, and you have the urge to swallow him down. He groans, as if reading your mind, and then reaches to pump himself slowly, long fingers wrapped around the length. “Not now, little bird, not now. I have something else in mind.” With one gentle push to your shoulders, you’re lying flat on the bed, Jaehyun between your legs. His mouth hovers over your core, already wet and dripping despite not having been touched. He plays idly with the slick on your upper thigh, drawing random patterns into the flesh. His eyes are dark, and you could swear that they’re entirely black, no white visible. He peers curiously up at you from between your legs, watching your reaction as his fingers get closer and closer to where you want him. Your breathing picks up as arousal thrums through your body, center pulsing and aching for some sort of relief.

“May I have you?” His breath ghosts over your center when you speak, the sensation making you even needier.

You nod quickly. “Take it, fuck, you have all of me.” He grins, wasting no time in diving in. His tongue feels impossibly good, licking up your folds and circling over your clit. He leaves sloppy kisses along your core, one hand massaging your thigh and keeping you spread open. You cry out when his tongue pushes into you, his nose brushing your clit and sending sparks up your spine.

His tongue feels impossibly long, so good inside of you that you feel like you’re losing your mind. Your hips buck up desperately, riding his face to hell and back. One arm gets thrown over your stomach to keep you in place while two fingers from his free hand dip into your soaking core, curling into that spot immediately. Stars flash behind your eyes, one hand coming down to fist in Jaehyun’s hair. Your feet scramble frantically along his back, heels digging in in an effort to anchor yourself, toes curling at the sensations singing through you.

You feel your orgasm drawing closer, heat pooling in your center. You whimper brokenly as you try to chase after your high, grinding your hips along his tongue. He lets you, just holding his tongue flat out for you to ride.

You come like that, falling apart on his tongue, screams of his name falling from your lips. He works you through it, tongue gently licking along your folds, slurping up your arousal as if he hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

You lay there, boneless and whimpering weakly through the aftershocks until Jaehyun pulls away to kiss up your body. He licks into your mouth hotly, reminding you that he hasn’t come yet. You bat weakly at his chest, pushing him onto his back. “Your turn,”

He groans in appreciation at the view of you above him. “So perfect, little bird. I’m gonna have so much fun with your soul.”

This sentence freezes you in your spot. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Jaehyun meets your gaze, black eyes entrancing you. “That means, y/n, that I’m going to have your soul. You belong to me now, hmm?” One of his hands plays gently with a strand of your hair. “That’s what you agreed to earlier, no?”

“N-no.” You try backing away, but the inhuman voice from earlier is back, echoing everywhere, repeating his words over and over until you can’t take it anymore-

You wake with a gasp, hitting your head as you sit up. Your computer is still on your lap, episode fifteen playing. Fuck, you’ve only been asleep for forty five minutes. It’s not even three yet, and you don’t have to go to work until eight. Deciding there’s no way you’re falling back asleep, you get up and decide to bake.

Five hours later, your coworkers love you when you show up with containers of cinnamon rolls, five different types of cookies, and a coffee cake. Mark looks mildly worried.

“You okay? I haven’t seen you bake since high school.” You snap out of your thoughts and turn to face Mark. The look of concern on your best friend’s face is enough to make you feel guilty and you nod, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Had a bad dream last night and couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You respond, trying not to show how bothered you actually are.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mark leans forward over his desk, chin planted on his hand.

“No, it’s gonna sound dumb.” You whine, shaking your head. And it is dumb, even to you. You’re scared because you had a dream that some man ate you out and then told you he was going to take your soul?

“Well, you always sound dumb. Of course your dreams are gonna be dumb.” Mark laughs as you chuck a piece of cake at him, infectious laugh soothing you. You sigh.

Mark raises his eyebrows at you when you finish telling him your dream. “You’re scared because you had a wet dream? Damn, I’d be living in a nightmare if I was scared after every wet dream I’ve had.”

You kick him under the table. “Mark! It was really scary. He told me he was going to take my soul!”

Upon seeing that you’re actually freaked out, his face softens. “Look, y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You probably just thought that he was hot, and your brain remembered his face and put it in a dream. I wouldn’t worry about it; what’s the worst he’s gonna do, haunt you?”

You give a shaky nod, agreeing. It’s not like something from your dreams could actually harm you. Mark reaches across the desk, taking your hand in his and giving a tight squeeze, warm brown eyes gazing at you openly. “And if something does happen, just remember that I’m your best friend. I’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks, Mark. Means a lot to me.”

He leans back in his seat. “Anytime, anyplace, anything. Triple A.”

You smile, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?”

His eyes go wide, taking in the glint in your eyes. “Within reason.”

“How about a sip of coffee?” You nod down at his cup, pasting a huge smile on your face.

“I did say within reason, so no.”

You huff. “I expected that.”

Although you don’t scare easily, it’s safe to say that you’re a bit unsettled tonight, especially after your nightmare last night. You find yourself jumping at every little noise, hand slamming the light switch on with your pulse racing every five minutes. This has been going on for an hour, and after a final sweep of your room reveals nothing, you decide that maybe a face mask will help you relax.

Your bathroom has two mirrors facing each other, which is normally a blessing when you do your hair, but tonight it does nothing but make you want to hide under your blankets.

Get a grip on yourself, you chastise, grabbing your phone and opening spotify. Maybe some music will help? You click on your Christmas playlist because what better way to cheer up than to think about your favorite holiday?

A mistake, really, because it seems that you’ve forgotten how creepy Santa is.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake,” Yikes. You stop that song in a hurry, feeling anything but comforted. No music then, noted.

You reach for your face wash, turning the sink on and waiting for the water to warm. You can’t help but glance in the mirror behind you every so often, paranoia getting the best of you. Man, you feel pathetic, worrying about monsters in your closet like you’re six and not twenty-six.

You wash your face quickly, hoping that your fears will wash away as well. No such luck.

You swear you see something move behind you after you dry your face off, but there’s nothing there. Shaking it off, you reach for your face mask, taking your time painting your face with the green clay.

It’s after your face is coated that you spot someone in the glass behind you. You scream, whipping around to come face to face with a man. Not just any man- Jaehyun.

Your heart thunders in your chest, eyes widening in fear. He seems to be in the mirror, copying your petrified expression mockingly.

“Hello, little bird.” He purrs, smirking lightly.

“Are you- are you in my mirror?” You’re in disbelief, mind struggling to comprehend this. First you spot him while in a weird trance, then in a dream, and now in your mirror? Maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis.

“No, I am not. Mirrors are just gateways to alternate dimensions. I’m merely using the mirror to visit you.” He says this like it’s common knowledge. It feels like your throat is made of sandpaper with how hard it is to choke out your words. “O-okay. I’m just gonna- yeah.”

You grab your phone from the counter and bolt, fumbling for your keys before jumping into your car and speeding off in the direction of Mark’s house. You call him, fingers fumbling on the screen. He goes to voicemail the first time, and your heart drops. “No, no, no,” you whisper frantically, calling again. He does pick up this time.

“Y/n? It’s the middle of the night.” His voice sounds gruff, and you feel guilty for waking him up. One glance in your rear view mirror reveals that Jaehyun is joining you on this ride, and you scream, car swerving violently to one side before you straighten it out.

“Where are we going, little bird?”

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Mark’s voice has lost its sleepy edge, taking on a concerned tone. He says your name again, more frantic.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your tires squeal as you make a turn, now only two blocks away. “Can I- can I come over? I really need to be with someone right now.”

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome. The door’s unlocked.”

You hang up, willing the tears in your eyes to not spill over. Finally arriving, you slam on the breaks and haphazardly pull next to a curb, yanking the key out of the ignition and sprinting to Mark’s house.

You lock the door behind you when you step inside, testing the handle as if a door could stop a mirror traveling demon or whatever the fuck Jaehyun was from coming inside. “Mirrors,” you mumble, reaching the stairs.

“Y/n? What’s-” Mark stands at the top of the stairs, one hand rubbing at his eyes. You cut him off, flying up the stairs.

“Mirrors, fuck. Mark, we need to cover the mirrors!” You breeze by his shocked figure, not noticing the way he turns to stare at you incredulously.

“What, why? Y/n, are you crazy?”

Ignoring him, you throw a towel over the mirror in his bathroom, ripping open a pack of bandaids to use as adhesive.

You throw another towel over the mirror in his bedroom, collapsing on his bed when you’re done and finally allowing yourself to sob.

“Y/n, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Mark, as gentle and caring as ever, comes over to sit next to you, one hand combing through your hair.

“I- don’t laugh at me.” You stare him straight in the eye, pleading with him. You know you’re going to sound crazy, but you’re praying that your best friend listens to you. He nods, urging you to go on.

“That- that man I saw in my dream and during whatever fucked up game Hyuck had us play? He was in my fucking mirror, Mark. I- the whole night, I had this feeling that I was being watched, and then I went into my bathroom and he was just there, and-” You’re hyperventilating at this point, fighting for every breath, tears clouding your vision. “He was in my car, in the rear view mirror-” Mark pulls you closer, enveloping you in his arms and allowing you to sob loudly into his chest. You cry for a few minutes, until you’re finally able to pull yourself together.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’ve had a rough week, I know. It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

He wipes a tear away from your check, patting you lightly. “Why don’t you go wash this off, okay? We can watch a movie after.” He offers, and until that point, you’d forgotten you were wearing a face mask. You grimace at the green imprint on his black shirt, but he just chuckles. “I’ll go grab you some water in the meantime.”

Nodding, you garner up the energy to walk to his bathroom. It’s fine, the mirror’s covered, he can’t hurt you. You close the door just in case, wanting an extra level of protection

You rinse your face with cold water, hoping that it will clear your mind. You give your face a couple more splashes before drying off with a towel.

“You missed a spot on your forehead.” You freeze before looking around wildly. There’s no one around, which can only mean that Jaehyun can still see you. Swallowing, you start the water again, rubbing at your forehead.

“And your left cheek.” You rub at the skin, being way too harsh but you excuse it considering your situation. “No, your other left. My left.”

“Jesus,” You growl in annoyance, reaching up to rip the towel down. Sure enough, there’s a splotch of green on your cheek. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be found. Maybe I am losing my mind.

You finish rinsing the mask off, finding some face lotion buried in Mark’s drawer, screaming bloody murder when Jaehyun appears in the mirror again. “Looking for me?”

“No! Leave me alone!” You cry, head spinning. Jaehyun fakes a pout, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Do demons even have hearts?

“Ouch, little bird. You don’t want to finish what we started the other night? When I had you moaning so pretty, so wet for me. I’m sure your pussy would take me so well, hmm?” Your heart rate kicks up again, but for a different reason this time. You almost moan, thinking about the dream.

Because he was right, you had been so wet. The want comes back full forces, slamming into you like a truck. You remember how needy you were, wanting to suck his cock so bad, wanting him to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. All fear that you previously had is slowly disappearing, fading into lust.

The demon smiles knowingly. “Ah, little bird, so you do remember. Remember how you promised me that you’re mine?”

You nod, eyes glazing over. You’re wet, panties starting to stick to your throbbing core uncomfortably.

“Mmmh, I bet you’re already dripping for me. Just waiting for me to come out and fill you up.”

Hearing your name leave his lips sends a wave of arousal crashing through you so strong that your knees buckle, grabbing onto the counter for support. He chuckles, but whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Mark.

“What were you say-” Your best friend trails off, eyes wide as he observes the scene. You snap out of your haze at the interruption. His mouth parts in shock. “You really weren’t kidding, shit.” He laughs humorlessly.

Then, quick as lightning, he rears back and punches the mirror. You scream in surprise at the crack, shards falling to the floor.

You and Mark both stare at the broken shards of glass on the ground, gleaming under the lights. “Mark,” You start, trailing off once you realize you have nothing to say. He seems to understand, walking forward until he’s close enough to pull you into a hug. You feel tears start to slide down your cheeks, dampening the cotton of your best friends shirt. You hug him closer, burying your face into his broad chest. He wraps himself around you, and you let yourself be lulled into the sense of security that his larger frame brings you. A sense of security that vanishes once you hear a low chuckle that definitely does not belong to Mark.

You both scream, leaping backwards and away from the noise. Jaehyun stands there, just in front of the door, with a shit eating grin on his face. You cower behind Mark, who is wrapping a protective arm around you while simultaneously trying to hide behind you.

“I really must thank you for finally setting me free. Normally I have to wait for some asshole with a ouija board, but then there’s just so many other demons that I have to compete with. So I just stick to the dream world-” He pauses to wink at you for emphasis “-but this is so much more fun.” His eyes are black, and you can’t tell where he’s looking. Swallowing, you clutch onto Mark’s arm for dear life.

The demon seems to regard the two of you for a moment, before his amusement seems to grow. He begins to move forward.

“Ah, Mark Lee. Lovely name for a stupid boy. Didn’t you know breaking a mirror is bad luck?” By this point, you and Mark are flattened against the wall, while Jaehyun stands less than a foot away from the two of you. There’s nowhere to run. This is it, you think, this is how I die.

Jaehyun chuckles, turning to you. You lower your gaze to the ground; it hurts to make eye contact with him. “No, little bird. This isn’t how you die, don’t worry.”

Then he’s backing away from the two of you, motioning to follow him. The logical part of your brain is screaming not to, but you find yourself drawn to him, legs carrying you after him without your consent, Mark clutching your arm tightly as he walks next to you.

Jaehyun seems to know the layout of the house, leading you straight into Mark’s bedroom. The demon grabs a chair from the desk and spins it around, straddling it so that he’s facing the bed.

He motions lazily. “Go on now, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

You find yourself sitting down on the edge of the bed, following his words like marching orders. Mark sits about half a foot away from you. Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, no, no. That won’t do. I said to get comfortable, did I not?” He raises an eyebrow as if daring you to argue with him. “Go lay down at the head board.”

You crawl to the head of the bed, settling so that you’re on your side, facing the demon. Mark follows suit, pulling you close to him so that you’re spooning. Jaehyun lets out a pleased hum. “Much better. Aren’t you much more comfortable now?” Nodding, you realize that you actually are more comfortable. It’s not just the change of position, but the energy in the room as well. The demon is no longer giving off a threatening aura. It’s more relaxed, maybe even happy? He certainly looks more relaxed, probably as happy as a demon can get, if not a little smug.

Your body is pulsing with energy, and it takes you a moment to place what you’re feeling. The earlier need to run that you had felt has been replaced with another need, albeit further down. Your thighs clench as another surge of heat pulses through your core, and your face warms at the realization. Why now, of all times, are you horny?

Jaehyun’s grin broadens as he seems to sense your dilemma. “Oh, little bird, if only you knew. Tell me, what type of demon do you think I am?” He watches you curiously, black eyes staring into your soul.

You try to tilt your head towards Mark, but the position’s too awkward and you only catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He looks a bit flushed from what you can see, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip, teeth that you could easily replace with your own- you blink, dazedly. What the fuck? Sexual thoughts about your best friend? That’s a new one. Even if you’ve noticed that he’s hot, you’d never thought about him sexually. Now, though, you can feel the hardness of his dick against your ass, and you can’t help but think about how good he could fuck you.

“Incubus,” You finally manage, blinking rapidly to clear the haze of your vision. Jaehyun grins, looking genuinely surprised that you’d gotten it right.

“Good girl. Make a little sense now?” You nod, fighting a moan as Mark starts to rock against you, slowly, as if he’s unconsciously doing it. Jaehyun notices.

“How about you, Mark? You doing alright over there?”

Your friend, your best friend, buries his face in your neck and groans, deep and delicious. It sends another surge of heat through your body, the growing need between your legs pulsing pathetically. “What are you doing to us?” The words are growled behind you, vibrating against the skin where his lips are pressed.

“Oh no, Mark, I’m not doing anything to you. The only thing I can do to you is make you realize your desires. Your deepest, darkest fantasies? I make that happen. Finally being able to fuck the girl you’ve been in love with for years? I make that happen.” The words take a minute to register with you, but you stiffen when the meaning hits you. Mark Lee, in love with you? An unlikely story, bordering impossible.

The demon chuckles at your inner turmoil, rolling his eyes at how dumb humans can be. “You too, y/n. You love Mark, even if you won’t admit it. You let the idea that he was too good for you scare you away from him. Do you not remember how often you thought of him, late at night after first meeting him?”

You groan in protest, not because it’s not true, but because you do remember. It had been so long ago. When you hadn’t known Mark, had only known of him. You pull away from Mark, awkwardly pushing him to lay flat against the pillows while you clamber on top of him.

“Mark, is it true? Do you love me?” You hold his face between your hands, staring into his eyes. He meets your gaze, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. He nods as best he can.

“So, so much.” Mark’s voice comes out raspy, matching his flushed skin. You lean down to kiss him, uncaring of the other presence in the room. Mark moans when your lips make contact, hands pulling you to straddle him. Your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his clothed cock against your center, rocking your hips to try to ease the throb of your core. His hands fly to your ass, pulling and kneading at the flesh as he urges you into a harsher pace.

The kiss is rougher, needier now, open mouthed and panting. Mark’s got his tongue tangled with yours, sucking in such a way that sends waves of heat through you. You want him in you, any part of him really.

Jaehyun seems to agree, speaking up from right next to you. You jump, having forgotten he was there although he’s the reason you’re like this in the first place.

“Let’s get the show on the road. As much as I’m enjoying this, I think we’d all enjoy something else a little more.” The demon reaches for the hem of your shirt and you nod, raising your arms above your head to let him pull the garment off. Mark groans at the newly revealed skin, hands going to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Fuck,” He whines, staring in awe at your chest. He doesn’t waste time before leaning up to kiss along your cleavage, pulling the bra down to expose your breasts. Another set of hands unclasp the bra before traveling down your torso to rub circles into your hip bones, sliding your sleeping shorts and panties off at the same time. Jaehyun throws the shorts somewhere off the bed. He keeps the panties, a pleased sigh leaving him as he appreciates the ruined fabric.

“Fuck, little bird. You’re really enjoying this,” He comments, as if he isn’t a fucking lust demon that can sense these kinds of things. You don’t voice your thoughts, because Mark chooses this moment to suck a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin so that all you can do is moan. “You’ve even ruined your panties. They’re soaked.”

He hands the strip of lace to Mark, who lets out a throaty groan at the sight. “You’re not getting these back.” He informs you, slipping the garment into his bedside drawer. You ignore him, instead tugging insistently at his shirt. He takes pity on you, grabbing the collar and yanking the baggy tee over his head.

You let your hands slide down his chest in admiration, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. You lick your lips at how broad his shoulders are, how strong he looks. Jaehyun doesn’t give you much time to enjoy the view, gliding two fingers along your slit before circling around your little nub. A cry of pleasure leaves you to mindlessly press your face into Mark’s collarbone, nipping and sucking the flesh until you’re sure you’ve left a bruise.

Jaehyun slips the two fingers into your aching core, curling and dragging them so well along your walls. Sparks of electricity flow through your veins, heat pooling in your center.

Mark groans from below you. Looking down, you see that you’ve unconsciously dug your nails into his hard chest in an effort to ground yourself. You remove your hands, only to spot little red half crescents littered over his skin. You rub your palms over the marks as if to soothe them, but it seems that the man wasn’t groaning from pain.

“Y/n” He sounds so fucked out, voice hoarse and raw even though hardly anything has happened yet. “You look so good like this, so perfect for me.” He brings one large hand up to cup your cheek, thumb delicately stroking over your cheekbone before moving down to trace your lower lip. You part your lips, letting him slide in before sucking around the digit, tongue curling around it as if it were his cock. His eyes darken a fraction, tongue coming out to wet his lips, swollen and kiss bitten.

You moan around the digit as Jaehyun adds a third finger, stretching your walls so pleasantly that you can’t help but buck your hips back for more. A whine forces its way out of your throat as the demon pulls his fingers out of you, leaving an empty ache between your thighs.

“Don’t you think it would be more fun if she was sucking on something a bit bigger than your finger, Mark?” The voice startles you, breath tickling your ear as he speaks. The man under you nods, swallowing thickly. Your eyes are drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement, and a gush of wetness pulses down below. Your thighs are probably covered in your arousal at this point.

You scoot down his body, trailing kisses and bites down his toned stomach. You take your time unzipping his pants, sucking a mark into the soft skin below his navel. He’s hard as a rock, and you moan in appreciation at the sheer size of him once you shimmy his jeans down his thighs.

“No underwear?” You ask, mouth curling up in a teasing smirk. He huffs out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can watch. “No, ‘s too restricting.”

You lazily pump his dick, thumb flicking over the tip once or twice. You plan to tease him more, but then Jaehyun’s pushing your head down and you have no choice but to open your mouth wide, innocent eyes peeking up at Mark as you take his cock in your mouth. He’s so big that you can’t take him in all the way, keeping one hand curled around his cock to stroke what your mouth can’t reach. You let it get sloppy, using your spit to ease the glide until you’ve got a pleasant rhythm going. Mark replaces Jaehyun’s hands with his own, gathering strands of your hair in his palms and using that grip to control your pace. “F-fuck,” He lets out a shaky exhale, letting his head fall back against the pillows once he’s satisfied with the pace.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, a loud smack sounding throughout the room. You moan, pitching forward onto Mark’s cock and gagging as he hits the back of your throat. A strangled cry leaves the man above you, his hips thrusting even further into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.

The demon kneads your stinging flesh before using his grip on you to pull your hips up. “Good girl,” You keen under his praises, sticking your ass up even higher. The warm, wet pressure against your center has you faltering, moaning almost violently around Mark’s cock. He doesn’t seem to be having any complaints, the vibrations forcing a moan of his own out.

Your eyes roll up into your head as Jaehyun wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You’re sure you’d be screaming by now if Mark’s cock wasn’t halfway down your throat. You’ve given up sucking him off by this point, content to let the man fuck your mouth while Jaehyun sucks your fucking soul out from between your legs. It feels so good, not used to being the center of even one man’s focus, let alone two.

Mark eases you off of his cock after you accidentally bite him, using your spit to ease the slide as he lazily fucks up into his loose fist. You rest your head on his thigh, alternating between moaning wantonly and mouthing messily against the skin as you feel your orgasm approach.

Jaehyun pulls away at the last second, and you whine loudly as your orgasm is cut off. The feeling of frustration leaves you close to tears, and you jiggle your ass in hopes that it will regain his attention. It does momentarily, as Jaehyun lands a harsh smack on the flesh, but he pulls away again.

“Mark,” The man in question looks up, hand freezing on his dick as if waiting for Jaehyun’s orders. And fuck, what a sight that would be: your normally brash and confident friend being so pliant and submissive to a near stranger… You blink out of it, feeling mildly ashamed even in your current state. Luckily, Jaehyun interrupts your thoughts. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you go first. You’ve been waiting long enough for this, anyway.”

Mark nods eagerly, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You paw at every inch of skin you can reach, searching for a release from the ache inside of you. Your wish is granted when he hooks two fingers in your soaking cunt, groaning at how wet you are. He scissors you open quickly, hissing at how tight you feel.

“Ready, angel? Want my cock?” The pet name has you moaning, though it draws a low chuckle from Jaehyun, who’s watching from his position next to Mark.

“Hurry up, already. Need you in me, ‘ve waited so long.”

Mark lights up at this, smile stretching his features. He looks so breathtaking in this moment, skin glowing and flushed, hair mussed up, eyes blown wide and half lidded.

“I’m yours,” He breathes, leaning up for one last kiss. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you forward so that you’re hovering above his thick cock. “Ride me baby.”

“I’d love to.” Reaching one hand down to position him at your entrance, you start to lower yourself down. Of course, Jaehyun chooses this exact moment to stop you. He truly is the spawn of Satan.

“Little bird, hold on just a second. I found something of interest in the back of Markie’s brain.” You cringe as he mocks your earlier nickname for the man. “What’s this I’m seeing, Mark? You like it up the ass?” His tone is teasing, but Mark groans in embarrassment. His face has gone an alarming shade of red by this point. “N-no,” He tries to deny, sputtering excuses but Jaehyun cuts him off with a press of a finger to his lips. “Oh, Mark, don’t get shy on me now. It’s a perfectly fine thing to like. Little bird, you’ll get your turn in a minute. You,” He snaps his fingers at Mark. “Come here. Kneel up, just like that. Perfect.” He appraises Mark’s ass for a moment, hands moulding the flesh before slipping a finger in. Mark’s eyebrows furrow, and you shoot up in alarm. “Doesn’t he need lube?”

Jaehyun looks at you, surprised that you care, before chuckling. “I can produce lube. Perks of being a lust demon.” Winking at you, he returns his focus to Mark. You can’t see what he’s doing, but the pure pleasure present on your best friends face has you clenching your thighs together, waves of need crashing through you. If you thought he looked good before, he looks absolutely gone now. Breathless groans are leaving him now, eyelids fighting to stay open as he sinks down on the others fingers. You watch him, mesmerized, before shuffling over to him.

“How close are you?”

He forces his gaze down to you. “Kind of- nngh- close, w-why?”

Wrapping a hand around his base lightly, you start stroking. “Will you come if I blow you?”

He moans, a punched out sound that takes you by surprise. “Fuck, yes, I’ll definitely come if you blow me.” You pout in disappointment. Upon seeing your crestfallen expression, he continues. “Maybe we c-can- oh, yes- figure something out. Jaehyun,” He turns his head back behind him, struggling to get the words out between moans. “Can I eat y/n out?”

There’s just something so hot about Mark asking for permission from someone else that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. Jaehyun must nod, because then you’re being laid back, Mark settling between your thighs. He’s sucking sweet kisses into your core almost immediately, pulling your legs over his shoulders to give him better access. You’re letting out sharp cries of pleasure the whole time, eyes fighting the urge to roll back in your head in favor of watching Mark between your legs. A particularly well placed flick of his tongue has your hips rolling against his face, grasping the sheets in your hand as your mind blanks. The pleasure climbing through your system is insane, threatening to burn you from the inside out.

It only gets better once Mark starts moaning, his sinful mouth sending sweet vibrations traveling up your core. You manage to catch sight of Jaehyun behind him, kissing wetly along his shoulders and neck, features curving into a smirk once he notices you watching him.

“Little bird likes this, hmm? Like watching another man pleasure your boyfriend while he pleases you?” You hum, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze, unable to even think, letting his boyfriend comment slide. Whereas before it hurt to look directly into his eyes, you now find yourself getting lost in his dark orbs. It’s like a drug, your pleasure being amplified by the man, demon, whatever in front of you.

You finally break eye contact, head falling back against the mattress as Mark draws you closer and closer to your peak. Burying one hand in his hair, you use the leverage to grind your core against his face, chasing your sweet release. “C-close, Mark, please-” You don’t know what you’re begging for at this point. It’s too much but not enough at the same time. Jaehyun saves you from having to decide by cruelly ripping your orgasm away from you, again, dragging Mark’s face away from your pussy.

A few tears slip down your face at this point, frustration reaching its peak. Jaehyun wipes the tears away, laughing lowly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire soon.”

He must pull out of Mark, because your friend whimpers before seeming to realize what he just did and clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Mark, would you like to fuck our little bird now?” Mark nods, tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.

Jaehyun smirks. “Good. On your back. Y/n, ride him.” You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble onto your knees, wasting no time in straddling Mark before dropping yourself down on him. You both moan in satisfaction, you at finally being filled and Mark at your tightness. You have to brace both hands on his chest, almost collapsing at the overwhelming relief you feel. Beyond the burn of the stretch, his cock filling you up so nicely, there’s a sweet pleasure, a satisfaction.

You don’t wait very long to adjust, grinding your hips in smooth circles before lifting yourself off of him and dropping yourself back down. You quickly start a rhythm of you bouncing on his cock, eyes rolling at how fucking big he feels in you.

Mark’s hands are locked in a vice grip on your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh and using his grip to urge you into a faster pace.

Jaehyun decides to join, coming up behind you to kiss at your neck, one hand reaching up to your mouth. “Suck,” He commands, slipping two fingers past your willing lips. You do, hollowing your cheeks and slurping around the digits, wishing that it was his dick. He hums behind you, bringing the wet digits down to your entrance, finding your clit with ease and rubbing fast circles into the little nub. You moan even louder now, feeling yourself speed towards your climax. You’ve been on edge for too long, you can’t hold on anymore.

“You close, little bird? Going to come on Mark’s cock? Gonna make him fill you up, pound into that dirty cunt?” His words get to you, your head falling back against his shoulder once more.

“Yes, yes! Oh, please, please-” He cuts off your mindless rambling by pulling you in for a kiss, one that you melt into. This is the first time he’s kissed you, and you’re quite upset that you hadn’t kissed him earlier. It’s a hot kiss, lots of tongue and teeth. It heightens your pleasure immensely, and you can’t stop kissing him. You suck on his tongue filthily, and oh, he must like that if the resulting groan is anything to go by. Even when he goes to pull away, you won’t let him, one hand fisting in his hair to keep him close. He seems to be speeding up your release, if that were even possible. Your mind feels hazier now, every sensation heightened, core screaming for release. You feel your orgasm twisting painfully at your insides, pulsing before finally exploding. The intensity of it rips a scream out of your throat, nails scratching across Mark’s chest as Jaehyun licks even deeper into your mouth, drinking up the noises you make.

When you come down, Mark is still thrusting desperately up into you, though he stops at the demons command. “From behind,” You hear Jaehyun say, but everything’s hazy at this point. Your mind is still fuzzy from your orgasm, and it’s like watching through a screen. Like you’re high, though you hadn’t had anything the whole day.

Mark manhandles you into position, hands and knees with your ass raised high in the air. He leaves one gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before relentlessly pounding into you, cock hitting even deeper in this position. Jaehyun kneels in front of you, pulling your face in towards his cock. You moan around him as he slips inside, mouth not quite burning at the stretch like Mark, though the demon still has you gagging. His cock has the same effect on you as his kisses did, and you feel addicted. You’re slurping and sucking and moaning around him, not wanting the intense pleasure to stop. You barely hear the kissing above you, taking far too long to register that Jaehyun has pulled Mark into a messy kiss above you. The image has you moaning even more wantonly, ass pushing back against Mark.

The kiss seems to have a similar effect on the man, because then he’s slamming into you at an even more relentless rate, moans higher and more frequent before he’s coming with a shout, finally filling you up. Your core pulses again at the feeling, and you suck at Jaehyun’s dick with renewed vigor. His hands fist in your hair, keeping you still so that he can fuck your mouth as hard as he wants. You relish in the feeling of your throat being fucked raw, spit dripping out of your mouth and down his cock. He lets out a deep groan, hips slamming deep one last time as he finishes. His cum seems to ignite a fire within you, because you’re coming almost simultaneously with him, despite not even being touched.

You collapse afterwards, dragging yourself to Mark and letting him drape himself over you. You let yourself drift off to sleep, sated and still riding the high.

The demon kisses each of you one last time, drinking in the last remaining parts of your soul, watching as the two humans take their last breaths. “Thanks for the meal, lovelies.” He chuckles, petting your head almost affectionately before walking out into the night sky, not sparing a single glance back.

#mark smut #mark lee smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #super m smut #nct u smut #gonna delete any asks abt bts or the old blog so pls dont send any lol #not for bad reasons or anythnig i just dont have anything to say abt them #ummm ok i did edit this but it was originally jin and hoseok so if you see their names that's an accident my b #anyways enjoy kdjsnfj

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

Text

House Trained

a collab with @reallyshey 💗

shigaraki x dabi x reader

commisons

masterlist

interactivefics

CW: nsfw duh 🙄 piss 🥰 vaginal sex anal sex unprotected sex, cat hybrid Shigaraki, darker tags under the cut...beware

PSA: I was NOT a part of the shit or vomit, so do NOT request that pls 🥰 it's pretty obvious I didn't write it cause it's so good I could never write that well 🥲, blood, pain anal, spikey dick hehe 😼 punishment (locked in a cage) umm all done? slight dubcon…???Coercion...????

The concept of human and animal mixing themselves wasn’t something new but science made that too close to reality. Now a hybrid was the common pet for many- the perfect balance for those who wanted children but simply weren’t equipped with the time or the money. Those cute angelic human faces, with ears poking out from-

And Tomura had squatted and was pissing on the couch. Y/N couldn’t help but rub her eyebrow in frustration. It was like she had just cleaned that yesterday! At this rate, she may as well throw out the couch. And she loved her little kitty, of course! But it was getting ridiculous.

It was like taking care of a child who'd never been potty trained. She couldn't put him in diapers either. He’d be humiliated and pissed off at her for god knows how long. So she had to take him to the bathroom about once every two hours. Sometimes he’d make a fuss and pee on the bath mat on purpose, but other times, he was compliant. She found that pushing on his bladder a little helped when he was feeling stubborn.

It hadn’t always been so routine, though. At first, he was mortified at the prospects of Y/N watching him pee. It's gross! She wasn’t supposed to see him do that! In hindsight, maybe getting him so comfortable with that was a mistake. He was brave enough to go in front of her no matter where. She should have just locked Tomura in the bathroom and listened to him to make sure he went but no.

Of course, she had to baby him. He would rub up against her leg all day, purring. He’d lay beside her at night and beg for praise, and she couldn't deny him because he's just oh so cute. Things really took a turn when he started calling her mommy. That definitely flipped a switch for her. Y/N was so easily manipulated by him, and neither of them realized. Shigaraki thought he just had the perfect mommy, and Y/N just thought she had the perfect baby boy.

She loved her cute cat hybrid, but he even had some funny habits. For example, he was still a young cat- about twenty-two-ish in human years. But even so, she’d never bothered to get him spayed. It hurt her feelings to even think about it. She tried talking to him about it, but he only cried and cried and cried until she promised him she wouldn’t.

And even then, her little baby wasn’t aggressive. The worst-case scenario was this- his spaying and genuine accidents. He took out his sexual desires on her pillow, humping it, kneading it, and biting down on it. His tail twitched in a specific way Y/N had learned to recognize whenever it was obvious he was getting aroused, whether from her belly rubs or simply the passing of time.

He was strictly an indoor hybrid too- Y/N believed in keeping her hybrid safe from passing cars, especially when he didn’t know any better. I mean, how the fuck was he supposed to protect himself? He’s so codependent on her. Tomura crawls across the floor and clings to her leg more often than not. He tugs on Y/N’s clothes for food and has to have at least twelve good night kisses. He’s pampered and spoiled and so happy he found a good mommy.

Y/N would kill anyone or anything who would dare hurt her precious boy. He was so sweet and defenseless. Only a monster would hurt someone so sweet. But Y/N knew the world was full of monsters. She's not näive. Her parents were a good example. They had unprompted hate towards her boyfriend at the time and his family until it tore their relationship apart.

He was the one keeping her sane, keeping her grounded but their hatred got in the way. They had planned on adopting a hybrid before, they even decided to name him Tomura. Y/N wasn't hung up on him, she had her little kitty to love! But the name was still sentimental. If only he had kept talking to her, they could have had a life together, but he ghosted her completely and their last conversation was something mundane.

She’s brought back to reality by something soft rubbing her leg, she looks down to find Tomura smiling up at her.

“Mommy, you forgot to take me to the bathroom, meow,” he says calmly, as though peeing on the couch was a completely reasonable response to that.

She sighs, “Next time, just remind me, Tomu, just please stop peeing on the couch,”

He nods and rubs against her leg a bit more, “I’ll be a good boy, mommy,” he promises, knowing he’s going to break it, “Pet me please, meow.”

It’s not really a question, and more a demand: his tail swishes when she sits down on the floor with him. He nuzzled into her hand as she scratched behind his ears. Getting the couch cleaned all the time was expensive and embarrassing. What do the neighbors think every time they see it pull into their driveway?

Y/N finally caves, and, opening her phone, calls the first business with “Animal Trainer” next to it. It looked like a serious business and was rated five stars. It didn’t even look that expensive either! Even so, she had to get him to stop acting out like this.

“Hello?” She says once the phone stops ringing.

“Yes, this is Dabi speaking. How can I help you today?” A voice responds on the other side, thick and gruff. He sounded like he’d smoked for quite a few years (that or he had just gotten out of bed).

“Hi, this is Y/N. I’m calling because my cat hybrid is spaying and pissing everywhere. He’s not fixed, and I promised him I wouldn’t do that to him. I need to get him to stop. I can’t keep cleaning but I’m not going to give him up to the shelter either.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other line. “A bad kitty. I can fix that. You’ll need to chip in, of course.”

She hesitates and looks over at Tomura who is starting to rub against her legs, curious about what and who she’s talking to. “Of course. When’s the soonest you can come over?”

“How about right now?”

“Perfect. Here’s my address.”

Dabi walks through the door, and her mouth falls open.

“You,” She says in surprise and in shock.

He grins devilishly, “Me, it's nice to see you, sweetheart.”

She scoffs, “It’s nice to see me? You stopped talking to me after we dated for almost a year!”

“It’s not my fault you changed your number and didn’t tell me,” He snaps back at her, his irritation growing. He grew sick of the disconnected response from the phone too quickly for her to joke about this.

“I never changed my-” She stops, “Oh.”

His face softens too, “It was your parents, huh?”

“Yeah,” she says, looking up at him.

Y/N wraps her arms around Touya hesitantly, and he does the same. Meanwhile, Tomura sits there in shock. Who was this man cuddling with mommy? He’d have to drench the whole house to get this guy’s scent off, and what’s in the bag?

“And this is Tomura,” She introduces. He looks up at the mention of his name, letting out a confused meow.

He grins- Y/N really knows how to pick them. This was the name they promised they’d name their own little hybrid all those years ago when they made plans to marry. So even if she was angry...

“Hey, little guy,” Touya says, trying to be friendly.

That was pretty easy when a cute kitty is staring up at you. But not so easy when he hisses at you and mutters profanities. He frowns. This was gonna be a lot of work.

“Hey,” he says, turning away from the pissed-off kitten, “I’ll give you a discount, how's three hundred sound?”

Her eyes light up, “Three hundred sounds fantastic! Thank you, Touya!”

She hugs him again and Shigaraki wants to yell but...mommy seems so happy with this... this stranger. And he doesn't want to make her sad, so he crawls away and mopes in her room, curling up in her bed and burying his face in her blankets. Does she love him? Is he going to stay? He wouldn't blame Y/N; this Touya person is rather cute but still. She doesn't notice her missing kitty while she continues to work out the details with Touya.

“Y/N, down to business. Why is your hybrid causing you problems? You said something about spaying? Tell me about it.”

“So what happens is that he goes around peeing everywhere! I used to be able to help him go to the bathroom, but now he just goes wherever he wants, whenever he wants! I looked it up and it sounds like spaying, but it’s full-on piss sometimes too.”

Touya is quiet for a moment, thinking, “So he sees you as a mate and he’s trying to mark his territory to ward off another male. Have you invited anybody over recently?” He asks, trying to grasp the situation.

Y/N shakes her head. He saw her as a mate?! “No, I try not to. My house smells like piss thanks to Mister Whiskers.” She huffs.

“He probably sensed another hybrid then from the outside. Possibly a feral. The best way to get him to stop is to make him think he already owns you. I’ll call hybrid control too. It’s not a good place for hybrids on the streets.” He says, pulling out his own phone and sending a text.

“Okay then. How do we do that?”

“It’s quite easy,” he says, “Let's go find Tomura first.”

He heads upstairs to where he assumes Tomura’s hiding. The smell of pee intensifies as he gets closer to what he assumes is your room. He opens the door to see Tomura curled on the bed, frowning.

“See how territorial he is?” Touya points out, “He already sees me as a threat even though I've just walked in the door.”

Y/N nods, but she’s still in disbelief. Tomura sees her as his mate? That's ridiculous. Although, if what Touya’s saying is true, she really wouldn't mind. She’d always had a crush on Tomura, I mean just look at him! He’s cute and so cuddly. The adorable ears and fluffy hair really add onto the whole cute kitty image. He’s so smart too. And kind. Their relationship isn't one-sided at all, he takes care of Y/N and she takes care of him.

Touya nudges her towards the bed, and she sits next to him. They both look at each other for a while, and Touya doesn't interrupt. They need to go at their own paces, for now at least. Y/N finally reaches a hand out to scratch behind his ears, and Tomura starts to purr again. It feels like Y/N is the only one in the room. He doesn't even notice Touya until he sits on the other side of him.

He wants to hiss and scratch at him, but Y/N is scratching his head just the way he likes.

“Hey buddy,” Touya says, reaching out to rub soothing circles on his back, “You love Y/N a whole lot, huh?”

Tomura nods, still suspicious of the man sitting with them.

“She’s your mate, isn't she?” he says, fingers trailing across his neck to scratch the back of his head, “You've got a nice pretty mate Tomura. She’s all yours, sweetie,”

Mate?! How did Touya know how he felt about y/n? They barely said a word to each other.

“Mate,” he nods, grabbing onto Y/N’s thigh.

He worms his hands between the mattress and her soft thighs and squeezes it in his arms, laying his head on it.

“Mate,” he purrs, happy that he’s able to say it out loud, “Mommy’s such a pretty mate.”

Touya nods; this is good. They're making progress.

“Now Y/N, why don't you lie down on the bed,” Touya instructs.

She does as told and lies on her back, trying to relax. She tenses up again when his fingers tug down her pants. She tries to grab his hand and stop him but he bats it away.

“Do you want your house to smell like piss for the rest of your life, or are you gonna let me help you?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

She nods and lets him pull down her pants.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” she asks, not enjoying the cold air on her cunt nor the fact that she was nearly naked in front of both of them.

“Completely necessary,” he assures her.

Next to go is her shirt, then her bra until she’s lying completely naked in front of them. When he starts to strip Tomura down, she gets worried. Why is Tomura suddenly so compliant with Touya? He was ready to flip his shit just minutes ago. Touya guides Tomura to kneel between Y/N’s legs and wiggles his spiked cock out of its little pouch. Tomura mewls softly; he’s never felt someone else touch him there before.

“Now, why don’t you rub mommy’s pussy right,” he guides Tomura’s hand to her clit, “There.”

He looks confused but does as he’s told. Obviously, Tomura doesn't do it well enough. The nerves and inexperienced hands don’t do anything to get Y/N aroused. Too bad so sad, he’s here to fix a problem, not make it pleasurable. He lines up Tomura’s cock, and Y/N finally pieces together what's happening. Her breathing picks up and her eyes widen. Surely he wasn’t really going to have Tomura fuck her, right? That would hurt! Like really really hurt!

But the look of excitement in his eyes made her feel guilty. He wants this so badly and he loves her so much. If this was going to help him she’d just have to take it. So when Touya helps him poke the tip of his cock in, she’s already white-knuckled from gripping the sheets. She whimpers when more of it starts to go in; it felt like the branch of an English hawthorn was forcing itself inside of her. At the same time, the tiny, sharp thorns on his cock were tickling her G-spot.

She wasn't ready when he started to fuck into her, he was over the moon with joy whilst she was crying out in pain. Tomura can’t decide between yowling, meowing, or moaning so he chooses a mixture of all three. All of his little noises are adorable; the whines and whimpers of her name make her try to smile through all of the pain.

“Gotta...breed mommy,” he pants, “Breed mommy!”

Her eyes widened.

“No sweetie,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut and trying not to focus on the pain, “You can’t breed a mommy baby. Please don’t Tomura.”

“Hey,” Touya says, “do you want this to work or not?”

She whines in defeat and lets him keep fucking her.

“Breed, mommy,” he chants, happier than ever.

Everything's “fine” until he decides to bite her tit.

“Ow! Tomura, no!” she cries, trying to push his head away, but Touya holds her hands in place.

“You can’t deny him Y/N. It won't work if you do,” he tuts.

She tries to squirm away, but Touya keeps his grip on her firm, and the cold hands of death couldn't pry Tomura away from her. So she cries and moans and prays that he’ll cum and get this over with. Touya lets go of her hands and climbs behind Tomura. What was he doing back there?

Y/N doesn’t even have a moment to be confused as Touya unbuckles his pants, Tomura grinding at her pussy, his sharp barbs and accurate aims make the pain and the pleasure simply too much for her brain to work. He doesn’t even take off his shirt, or slide them down, just pulls out his cock from his jeans and shoves it into the cute tight, and unsuspecting hole in front of him.

“Meow! Mommy! It hurts! Meow!” Tomura cries, yowling in pain as his virgin hole is penetrated. Touya’s cock is massive- at least twelve inches in length. Despite Tomura’s small size, she can still feel Touya against her own stomach, the way his cock burrowed a hole into Tomura, in through one end and attempting to force its way out the other.

“Look at that cute little pussy. It’s all nice and red for Master''. Tomura was bleeding! He meowed, feeling the trickling down his thighs as Touya pushed himself into Tomura, again and again, forcing Tomura to keep fucking Y/N despite the pain that he was in. As she gets wetter it’s easier for her to talk and think. She cradles Tomura’s head in her arms and lets it fall into the crook of her neck.

“How is this helping?” she asks, still crying from the pain of Tomura’s cock in her.

“Um, it’s keeping him inside of you? Listen, I don't fucking know. I just wanted to fuck him, ” Touya laughs, before pausing, “Or even bitch him if it works.” Leaning down to trail kisses up Tomura’s neck, he coos “Who’s my pretty boy?”

“I am, ” he sobs, “Mommy, please, it hurts. But it feels so good just- just make it stop mommy please.”

“I can't, sweetie. I’m sorry,” she says, kissing the side of his head, “It’ll feel good soon, Tomura, I promise.”

He bites her tit again, not as hard as before, and tries to stifle the sounds of his crying. How could he be a good mate if he was so weak? He doesn't deserve her. He should give her up to Touya; he’s strong and smart, not weak like he is. But then Y/N pulls his face away from her chest and kisses him. It’s rough and passionate and the best thing he’s ever felt, besides her warm wet pussy, of course.

When he cums, he cums hard. His cock was made for breeding so it squirts out more cum than humanly possible. It takes mere seconds for it to start gushing out of her, seeping deep into her womb. There’s no doubt she’s pregnant; Y/N never planned to have sex at this point in her life, so she was on absolutely no form of birth control.

Even if she had used a condom, Tomura’s thorny cock would have poked right through it. His cum would’ve somehow breached her IUD, and it was sure to be one hundred times more potent than human cum and no chemical could’ve stopped it. They're both aching when Touya finally fills Tomura’s tight, no longer virgin, asshole. Thankfully it makes it easier for Touya to slide out of him without either ripping Tomura’s asshole or having Tomura’s asshole pull his cock right off.

Touya is surprisingly good with his aftercare. And it looks like he came prepared as well.

Touya takes his sweet time gently putting hybrid injury cream around his ass. There's nothing of course he could do about the inside besides giving Tomura some anti-inflammatory medicine and blood stoppers. All wrapped inside of a pill pocket, the brat.

And despite his so-called love for Y/N, Tomura still kept up the attitude. When Touya moved onto Y/N, slowly caressing her cunt and making sure she was okay, taking care of her and wiping her clean of cum, Tomura would throw a fit and say he wanted attention.

Don't get him wrong, he was worried for his mommy. He didn't know what the white stuff leaking out of her was or what the white stuff that'd been leaking out of him was- he just knew it felt good. But he recognized bruises from his own hands, his claws digging into her from when he orgasmed.

But he wanted attention too! What about him?! Why did mommy get all the attention? It was like he had completely forgotten the attention that had been on him for a while. He meowed over and over, tugging on Touya’s arm.

“Master,” he whines, “What about me?”

“Shh,” Touya says, “We need to take care of mommy too, Tomura.”

“But-” he starts.

“No buts unless you want me to spank yours,” Touya warns.

Tomura opens and closes his mouth, deciding he’d rather not have his ass beat red. He still whines, though, putting his head on Y/N’s chest, so he never left his master’s line of sight. When Touya pushes his head away, he mewls over and over, crying out for his master. Claiming that “You don’t care about me, Master!”

Touya silences him with a kiss on the forehead and the lips, and that satiates him...for a while until he’s pawing at Touya again, whining and whimpering. However, when Y/N is the one to try and silence him, he shuts up immediately. You never tell him to be quiet; you always tell him how much you love his voice.

So he curls into you and kisses your neck, telling you that you're the best mommy in the world. You can only smile and nod, letting Touya apply ointment to your wounds. Tomura has never felt like this before, not just from his orgasm but being cared for by two people. Of course, Y/N cared for him well, maybe too well. She spoiled him beyond belief. He got away with pissing on the couch for months. He got whatever food he wanted whenever he wanted. You even let him eat at the dinner table though he was NOT supposed to.

Touya fixed all of that. He disciplined Tomura, shoving him in a diaper until he begged and cried to be good, and he was...until Touya went home. Touya also put him on a diet that was healthier for his sensitive stomach. Lastly he made it very clear to her that Tomura will only be eating out of his bowls on the floor, much to Tomura’s disappointment.

Despite it all, they end up together. All of them. Mommy and Master and cute little Tomura at the center. Maybe he would’ve stopped acting up but he didn’t. He just wanted both of them more- and both of them together. So he makes mommy call Touya for no reason or forces her to, pissing and shitting wherever he could, even vomiting.

Even things that didn’t need to be fixed- they called Touya. And of course, Touya always sets Tomura straight. He’d shove Tomura in a kennel for hours, and force Y/N to watch, to discipline him for calling him over, sometimes even himself if he got ahold of the house phone, and Y/N to get her to stop spoiling Tomura.

And of course, Tomura would yowl and cry that nobody loved him, making painful noises that would cause suffering to any normal human’s heart (at least, Y/N would argue that). He would piss himself even more, and even shit on the blankets to try and get the smell to let him out. Touya however, only pissed on Tomura when he pissed in the kennel, and sprayed air freshener when he shit. Maybe it was something that he wanted himself.

Y/N, of course, would always let him out when he let out a particularly miserable noise. She washed the disgusting blankets at night when she was supposed to be asleep and cleaned him up through the bars of his cage. Whenever Touya caught her, he was furious. It took only minutes for her to be squished in the cage besides Tomura, praying he didn't decide to make any messes.

She comforted him, reminding Tomura that Touya would provide wonderful aftercare for the bruises and indents the cage gave them. When Touya fed them through the bars it was especially humiliating, making sure to spill or smear at least some of it on both Y/N and Tomura. But Tomura was happy to clean you up with his cute pink tongue, and that never failed to make her giggle.

Despite the punishments and the spoiling he loves his mommy and master equally! They were so good to him! Dogs can be a man’s best friend, but what best resembles a lover? The cute little kitty cat in the middle of mommy and master.

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etherrreal · 3 years

Text

“resentment”

Pairing: oikawa x fem!reader Genre: angst Summary: you used to love oikawa’s determination, his drive, his willingness to give his all and sacrifice everything to get the things he wants. now those are the same things that make you resent him. WC: 6,700 Warnings: lots of angst, explicit language, reader’s kinda petty but so is oikawa, relationship isn’t toxic or anything but it could def be better A/N: shoutout to @shadowkunoichi for this request! your ask gave me enough serotonin to last for the rest of the week <3 it’s also important to note that the moment i saw oikawa’s smug ass face on screen my brain and heart immediately went “this the one” so here’s some pain ft. my favorite setter -Dawn

The first few times Oikawa cancels your dates for extended volleyball practice, you tell yourself it doesn’t bother you. You’re disappointed, of course –you barely see him enough as it is, despite living together for three months, despite dating for a total of eight– but it’s not the end of the world. It’s just another compromise you have to make, and it probably won’t be the last.

That’s what relationships are about, anyway, you remind yourself firmly, whenever the silence of your too-big for one person apartment starts to get to you. Compromise.

You’re no stranger to compromise, either. You can’t be, not when you’re dating a pro-athlete. You know better than anyone how talented Oikawa is, how admired. He’s worked so hard, and you’re so proud of him. You may not know much about sports, but you do know that your boyfriend has an amazing career ahead of him.

And while the selfish part of you would like to keep him all to yourself, you also know it won’t always be possible, and you tell yourself you’re okay with that. You love Oikawa, and you support every single one of his dreams, even if doing so means you have to eat dinner on your own sometimes.

It won’t always be this way, you tell yourself. It’s just for now. And it definitely doesn’t mean he loves you any less.

That’s what you tell yourself.

It helps that he’s always sorry about it. You hear it in his voice whenever he calls you to tell you he won’t be home until late, see it in the guilty way his eyes search for yours through the screen when he FaceTimes you to let you know you shouldn’t wait up for him. He’s even more torn up about it than you are most of the time, blowing your phone up with apologetic voice notes and text messages with too many emojis.

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: babe 😔😔

[you]:: yes baby?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😔😔😔😔

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😩😩😭😭

[you]:: oh boy

[you]:: you’re not gonna be home in time for dinner, are you?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i don’t think so 😩😔 we have that game coming up so we’ll be practicing all night

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m so sorry baby ☹️☹️ but i’ll have to miss dinner again 😭😭

[you]:: it’s fine, i’ll just find someone else to share my chicken with

[you]:: speaking of, u have ushiwaka’s #? i wanna see something

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: STOPPPP 😭😭 i’m sorry!!!

[you]:: allegedly

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: stop 😭😭 i mean it!! i love you pls don’t hate me 😩☹️

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m really sorry babe ☹️☹️

[you]:: if ur apology doesn’t include dollar signs then i don’t wanna hear it

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: check ur email

[you]:: ??

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 👀😇

You check your email, and sure enough, there’s a gift card there to your favorite clothing store, along with a note that reads “financial compensation for putting up with me <3 also if u ever share chicken with ushiwaka i’ll cry and then die so pls don’t.” It makes you laugh so hard you forget about being upset with him in the first place.

[you]:: i was joking!! u didn’t actually have to send me anything u weirdo

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i know 😇😏😘

And when he does make it home that night with an apology on his lips, a bouquet of flowers, and a promise that he’ll make it up to you, it’s hard to do anything else besides forgive him. Because you know that no matter how crazy both of your schedules are, no matter how lonely you might feel without him at your side, he loves you more than anything, and you love him as much in return. And for a while, that’s enough.

Until it isn’t.

You’re thankful to have successfully made it through your first year of grad school with just a caffeine addiction and minor bags under your eyes, but not having to attend your classes or meet with your professors over the break means you’re at the apartment a lot more. You still have your job, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore Oikawa’s absence.

It’s not just dates he’s missing anymore. It’s family events, outings with your friends, getaway trips the two of you planned weeks in advance.

You know it’s not his fault. He has things he wants to accomplish, goals he set for himself long before he met you. The Olympics are coming up, and he needs to be ready. You can’t blame him for staying late to get in some extra practice, or for having to attend events with his teammates and his fans instead of you.

You can’t blame him for any of it, at least not without feeling selfish and unsupportive, and somehow that just makes it worse.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to build up the courage to talk to him about it. You almost don’t want to bring it up at all, but after weeks of missed dates and apology bouquets, of waking up without him and going to sleep before he gets home, you crumble. You don’t think you can keep grinning and bearing it anymore, not without starting to resent him.

You confront him while he’s sitting at the kitchen island in the middle of your shared apartment. It’s rare he doesn’t have a game on the weekend, even rarer he gets to spend the afternoon with you. It almost makes you reconsider –will this ruin your time together?– but you hold fast. You know that if you don’t bring it up now, then you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that much more silent heartache.

Oikawa, for his part, does well to listen as you speak. He watches you intently, pretty brown eyes soft and searching, as you tell him about how neglected you’re feeling, how lonely.

You know he’s not doing it on purpose. You know he’s meant every single one of his apologies, and that this is what you signed up for when you agreed to be in a relationship with him. And you love how driven he is, how determined he is to succeed.

You just...you miss him. That’s what it boils down to in the end: how much you miss him. You miss him now more than that time he left to spend a month back home in Japan while you stayed in Argentina, despite the fact that you’re in the same country this time, despite the fact that you share the same apartment. It shouldn’t be possible, but it’s true.

“I know your career is important, and I would never try to get in the way of that,” you tell him, quietly, tiredly. There’s an exhausted air around you he’s never seen before, the kind of whispered sadness that breaks his heart. “But sometimes, Tooru...sometimes it feels like I’m dating a ghost. And I’m not mad at you, or angry, I’m just...lonely.”

You finally look at him, and the emotion in his eyes startles you. He’s actually tearing up –“you’re such a crybaby,” you like to tease him when his eyes water during sad movies, but you always comfort him anyway– and it’s enough to make your eyes fill with tears, too. He looks so sad, so broken, like knowing he’s hurt you –even if it’s been completely unintentional– hurts him too.

He’s quick to stand and walk over to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You return the embrace, resting your head against his chest while one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your head.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into your hair, and you can tell by the way his voice shakes that he means it. “I know things have been crazy lately, but that’s no excuse for leaving you here alone. I never want you to feel like you’re anything besides the most important person in my life. I love you so much, and I promise I’m going to fix this. Things will get better, I swear.”

And in that moment, you believe him. You trust him, after all, and you know he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. So you let him mumble reassurances into your hair, let him kiss your breath away and shower you in the affection you’ve been missing for far too long.

It’s so easy to get lost in it, lost in him. Too easy.

He’s always been like that; charismatic and witty, magnetic and charming. It doesn’t help that he’s totally gorgeous, too. You knew, from the moment you met him, that if you ever let yourself fall in love with him, you’d be in trouble. It’s why you never took any of his advances seriously, at least not in the beginning.

But he was able to chip at your resolve with every teasing smile and playful wink, every reverent touch and whispered words meant just for you. He let you get to know him; the real him, not that flippant and perfect pretty boy facade he presents to the rest of the world, and so of course you fell for him, because how could you not?

Oikawa is stubborn and prideful, exhausting and even sometimes petty, but he makes you feel like you’re the strongest person he knows. He looks at you like you’re the only one he’ll ever want to see. He makes you laugh and keeps you on your toes, and you know right away –before you moved in together, before you told him you loved him– that you will never love anyone the way you love him, because no one else will ever be able to compare.

That’s why it’s so easy for you to believe him now. Because you know he loves you and that you love him, and the two of you are determined to make this relationship work. So when he promises that things will change, that he’ll be more present from here on out, you believe him.

It’s the first promise he’s ever made to you that he doesn’t keep.

For every event Oikawa does bother to make it to, he misses two more. Your parents, who adore him, wonder why they never see him anymore. Your friends start to ask if you even still have a boyfriend. You find yourself asking the very same thing.

You stop inviting him to events at your university and lunches with your friends. You don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment anymore, and you figure it’s easier to just save yourself from the inevitable. The apology gifts he gives you start to feel hollow, empty, just like your apartment. You stop opening them, letting them pile up in the corner of your living room. Eventually, he stops giving them to you.

You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if it upsets you even more.

The Olympics get closer each day. Oikawa’s practices become more intense and even longer than they already were. There are so many things he needs to do now: games to play, meet and greets to attend. Sometimes if he’s out too late he just doesn’t come home at all. The team sets him up at a hotel, and he stays there for the night instead.

It gets harder to catch his scent on his pillow where it lays beside you in bed, untouched and forgotten. It should hurt you more, but it doesn’t.

There’s an event being held back in Japan, promising a night of drinking and dancing and schmoozing. All the investors and international players and coaches will be there, and you promised a while back to be Oikawa’s plus one.

The vindictive part of you wants to cancel on him, just so he knows how it feels, but you decide you can put your pettiness aside for a few nights if it means free booze and food and a comfortable stay at some ridiculously fancy hotel. You wonder if that’ll be enough to fill the hole he’s made in your heart.

Besides, you want to remind him that you’re the kind of person who keeps your word, even if he’s not.

The flight is long and exhausting. So is finding your hotel and forcing yourself to get dressed, but you get through it. Oikawa looks unfairly stunning in his suit, but you try not to notice. He arrives at the party with you on his arm, wearing a silky gown that matches his tie and jewelry that glitters whenever it catches the light.

You’ve barely talked to each other the whole way here, but at the party, amongst his teammates, old rivals, and friends, you’re the perfect couple. You smile, laugh, and dance exactly when you’re supposed to. You play your role so well that no one notices how numb you are, not even Oikawa, even though he’s supposed to know you better than anyone else.

Maybe that’s why you find yourself at the open bar. Oikawa’s off mingling with god knows who, swamped by dozens of people who are always seeking his favor, trapped in his orbit. They praise his hard work, his tenacity, his determination. Once upon a time, you would’ve done the same.

But things are different between you now. What used to be Oikawa’s endearing stubbornness is now an outright refusal to meet you halfway. His determination to be the best has become an inability to compromise; his passion has become obsession. It’s strange to think how all the things that used to make you love him now just make you resent him.

But the liquor here is free and flowing so you knock it back like water, and it’s almost enough to make you forget your heartbreak, your anger. Almost.

All the drinking eventually sends you to the bathroom. You touch up your makeup as best as you can and wash your hands with one of the several different soap options, exiting the bathroom noticeably drunker than you were when you went in.

You’re off-balance enough that when you run into what feels like a brick wall but is actually just a tall, broad-shouldered man, you stumble and nearly fall over. He reacts quicker than you do, catching your elbow and steadying you back on your feet.

He asks you if you’re all right and you reassure him that you are. You swear you’ve seen his face before, but you’re too tipsy right now to bother to remember where.

“I appreciate the help,” you say sincerely, patting his shoulder. “But I promise I’m okay. Thank you again, really.”

He gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you, and he’s proven right approximately five seconds later, when you turn on your heel to leave and nearly fall over again. Once more, he’s there to catch you.

You try to convince him that you’re okay; you’re just a little bit tipsy from all the champagne earlier, but he guides you to one of the stupid velvet couches in the hallway and makes you sit down. He tells you to stay there and wait for him, and you want to protest but he’s already gone before you can make any real sort of argument.

When he returns, it’s with a bottle of water, which you sheepishly accept. He stays with you as you drink it, and your vision and stomach start to settle. You thank him again for all his help. He tells you it’s no big deal, and when he introduces himself as Ushijima Wakatoshi, you laugh so hard you almost spit water all over yourself.

Ushijima raises an eyebrow at you. “Is there something about my name that amuses you?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” It takes more effort than it should, but you’re thankfully able to force yourself to stop laughing. Talk about ironic encounters. “It’s just– I’ve heard of you before.”

“Are you a fan of volleyball?”

You resist the urge to snort, sending him an amused smile instead. “Something like that.”

The two of you chat for a little while, and it’s a surprisingly pleasant conversation. You quite like his company, and you appreciate how he’s willing to keep an eye on you solely out of the kindness of his heart, just to make sure you’re really okay. It’s hardly necessary anymore –the water’s doing a great job at sobering you up– but it’s a nice distraction from the reason you started drinking in the first place.

Or it was, until you start to hear that very same reason calling your name from somewhere down the hall. His voice gets closer and closer, and you shut your eyes, bracing yourself.

“What the hell?”

You open your eyes and suddenly Oikawa is in front of you, eyebrows drawn together and lips pulled into a deep frown. You can only imagine what you look like to him right now, low-eyed and tipsy and sitting on a couch next to his oldest rival.

You can already see the anger in his eyes, the suspicion. He’s jealous, and it’s absolutely ridiculous because he has no right to be. Not after ignoring you for so long. Not after reminding you over and over again that when it comes down to it, you’ll always be second place to his career.

You haven’t been flirting with Ushijima, but now you wonder if maybe you should have. There’s a bitter part of you that wants to hurt Oikawa as much as he’s hurt you, even if it’s only for a moment.

Ushijima seems completely oblivious to the situation, which you’re sure just infuriates your boyfriend even more. He’s described to you in great detail how one of the things he finds most frustrating about Ushijima is how completely and utterly unbothered he is by everything.

“Oikawa,” the man closest to you greets, standing up. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ushiwaka.” The smile your boyfriend directs to his old rival is tight-lipped and void of any of its usual warmth. Oikawa’s gaze settles on you next, eyes narrowing even further. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is plain, dull, as you tilt your head at him mockingly. “Do I know you?”

“Stop being cute.” The way he practically snaps it makes it clear he doesn’t think you’re being cute at all. In fact, he actually looks pretty pissed, and you almost smile at the realization. As petty as he can be, it’s clear you’re better at this than he is. “It’s getting late. It’s time for us to leave.”

Ushijima’s gaze slides over to you. “Do you know him?”

But you’re not looking at him. You’re looking straight at Oikawa, at the tenseness of his shoulders, the way he’s on the verge of fuming. Apparently, just the idea of you being alone with his oldest rival is more concerning to him than the fact that you’ve barely spent any time with each other in the past two months. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Of course.” You stand, closing the short distance between yourself and Oikawa. “He’s my boyfriend. My loving, devoted, perfect boyfriend.”

You place the hand that’s not holding your water bottle against his chest, perching on your toes to deliver a sweet kiss to his cheek. When you pull away, the stain of your lipstick remains, and you wonder if he can feel the resentment in it.

“I just forget sometimes, is all. You know, since we never see each other.”

You don’t bother to examine the look on his face. You can’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You turn to Ushijima instead, offering a tired but genuine smile.

“Thank you again for your help, Ushijima. It was a pleasure to officially meet you. Have a good night.”

You turn on your heel and walk away, down the hall and past several magnificent paintings, past any apology you would normally be ready to offer. It’s petty and deliberate, the kind of reaction you didn’t think you were capable of before this, but it’s all you have left. Oikawa doesn’t care, hasn’t cared for a while actually, so neither will you.

You don’t know what he says to Ushijima or if he even says anything at all, but you do hear his footsteps when he runs after you. They slow as he gets closer, but you don’t stop walking, don’t turn back to look.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What– what the fuck was all that back there, huh?”

You stop. Slowly, you turn to look at him, but you don’t say anything. You just stand there, watching, waiting, feeling absolutely nothing as you do.

“‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’” It’s a poor imitation of your voice, but the intention is there. “So what, I don’t spend enough time with you and suddenly it’s okay for you to flirt with someone else?”

You laugh without humor. “That’s what you’re stuck on? The fact that I had a conversation with him and not the part where I said we never see each other? You truly have a gift, Tooru.”

The frown on his face deepens, but the anger in his eyes softens a little, replaced by a hint of guilt. There’s regret there, too, over not keeping the promise he made to you. You would be more moved by it if you weren’t so completely infuriated right now.

He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “I’m not going to have this argument with you. Not here.”

“Where should we have it then, hm? In the lobby? At the hotel? We’re damn sure not having it when we get home, because you’re never fucking there!”

You don’t mean to scream at him, but that’s what comes out. You’re not sure which one of you is more surprised by it. Oikawa stares at you, wide-eyed and stunned, as if you’ve just slapped him, and you stare back, breathing hard. You’re so focused on each other you don’t even notice you have an audience until you hear a new, familiar voice speak.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi steps between you, concerned and cautious.

He’s the only one here, thank god, but his appearance reminds you that this is definitely not the time or the place for any of this. You shouldn’t care who overhears you, but as angry as you are, you’re not selfish enough to air out your relationship’s problems in front of all of Oikawa’s friends and colleagues. You still love him, after all, even if it’s hurting you to do so.

Iwaizumi casts a wary glance between you and his best friend, almost like he’s preparing himself to play the unwilling referee in what seems to be an inevitable fight. Any other time, you might’ve laughed at the look on his face, but not now. “Everything okay, you two?”

It’s not. It hasn’t been for a while, and right now Oikawa’s looking at you like he’s finally realizing that too.

The car ride back to the hotel is eerily silent. You and Oikawa share no words, no fleeting glances; you don’t even sit close enough to touch each other, not even accidentally. The ride up to your floor is spent in a similar fashion, a cold distance settling between you that’s never been there before.

Or maybe it’s been there for a while, and it took you screaming at him in the middle of a party for the two of you to notice it.

Miraculously, you make it into your room in one piece. The two of you remove your coats and shoes in that same suffocating silence. You make it to the bedroom without exchanging a single word, and he takes a seat on the bed while you sit in front of the vanity and begin removing your jewelry.

Another long stretch of silence later, and then he’s meeting your eyes in the mirror to ask, “Can we talk?”

You consider telling him to go fuck himself instead, but somehow you bite down the urge.

“About what?” You take off your necklace, a pretty golden chain with your birthstone on it that he got you for your birthday. “About how I wasn’t flirting with Ushijima? Because I wasn’t, if that’s what you’re still so torn up about.”

“I know you weren’t,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. It’s a bit longer than you remember; that’s how long it’s been since you’ve really gotten the chance to look at him. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“I do. You were jealous.” Your earrings are the next to go, another gift from him. He’s scattered himself into so many pieces across your life; you’re not sure how you’ll ever be free of him, or if you’ll ever want to be. “But you had no reason to be. I would never do that to you.”

“I know.” He looks down, fidgets with his fingers, meets your gaze again through the mirror. His tie is loosened around his neck, making him look disheveled in just the way you like. “I’m sorry.”

“Great.” Your tone is short, clipped, as you finally remove the last of your jewelry. “Is that all?”

“Please don’t do that. I’m trying to have a conversation with you here, so that we can fix this. I mean, don’t you want to talk about everything, especially after tonight?”

“I’ve already said everything I needed to say, Tooru.” You break your gaze from the mirror, turning to glance over your shoulder at him instead. “You know exactly what the problem is, just like I know you won’t do a single thing to change it. You can’t, because my feelings –our entire relationship– all of that stuff’s always going to come second to the things you want.”

The frown from earlier is back now, this time paired with a hard look, like he can’t believe you’re questioning his commitment, even though he’s given you dozens of reasons to do so. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” You rise to your feet, a dry, humorless laugh escaping your throat as you do. “Tell that to the countless dates you’ve missed. Tell that to the bed you hardly sleep in anymore, to all the times I’ve fallen asleep without you and then woken up only to realize you still weren’t there.”

The words feel heavy and bitter on your tongue, your anger growing the more you think about everything you’ve endured over the past few months, all the different ways he’s managed to disappoint you.

“There’s nothing untrue about it, Tooru. You just don’t care about me the way I care about you.”

“Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me I don’t care about you?” he demands. “Of course I care. I love you, dammit. How could you ever think I don’t?”

“How couldn’t I? God, have you seriously not heard a single thing I’ve said this entire time? I’m practically in this relationship by myself, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to change that!”

“You think I like having to leave you on your own so much? You think it doesn’t break my heart seeing the look on your face every time I have to tell you I can’t make it to all the things I want to be there for?” He’s on his feet now, hand jabbing at his chest, like if he could rip out his heart and show you the scars there, he would. “Because it does, okay? It makes me fucking miserable, but what else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be there, Tooru!” You don’t know when you started crying, but you are. You’re yelling too, hands shaking, voice raw. “You’re supposed to be there when I need you, not make stupid promises you can’t keep! And even if you can’t be there all the time, you’re at least supposed to try!”

“I am trying! I’ve been trying this whole time, and you know that!” He sounds as exasperated and raw as you do, waving his arms around, red-faced and distressed. “You knew what my goals were before we started dating. I never hid them from you. You knew exactly what I wanted, you knew how hard I would have to work, how hard it would be for us, and you agreed to be with me anyway! You promised me you wouldn’t let it come between us!”

“Well, that was before I knew how fucking impossible it would be!”

There’s nothing productive being exchanged between the two of you anymore. You’re just screaming at each other. You call him obsessed and self-absorbed; he calls you needy and demanding. He tells you to grow up and stop asking for so much, and you tell him he’s chasing a pointless dream.

You’re not trying to compromise with each other, or trying to make the other see your point of view. You both just want to hurt each other, and you do.

You’re crying by the end of it; so is he, but you both refuse to admit defeat. It’s one of the many things you have in common: your stubbornness. You’re out of breath and hurting and there’s a small part of you that just wants him to hold you, but at the same time, you can’t stand the sight of him anymore.

You storm out of the room before he gets the chance to, looking back to catch him throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. You throw yourself onto the couch and opt to sleep there for the night, because you know that if you don’t, you’ll probably end up strangling each other.

Oikawa, for once, is wise enough not to follow you, but there’s a quiet voice inside your heart that wishes he did.

You wake up the next morning with a stuffy nose and a migraine. The price of crying yourself to sleep, you suppose. Your appetite is gone but you know that if you don’t eat anything soon the pain behind your skull will only get worse, so you force yourself to stand from the couch.

You step on something hard, eyes widening at the indignant noise of protest it lets out in response. You lose your footing almost immediately, toppling over onto the carpet. It’s everything you can do to throw out your hands and avoid smacking your forehead against the coffee table.

“What the fuck, Tooru?” You scowl when you realize it’s not a random object you’ve tripped over, but rather your own boyfriend, who for some inconceivable reason is laying on the floor beside the couch. “It’s bad enough we spent last night fighting– now you’re trying to kill me, too?”

“I could say the same thing to you!” Oikawa exclaims, returning your scowl with equal exasperation. He’s rubbing at his chest, a pout tugging at his lips as he groans. “You just stepped on my chest. I could have died.”

“Oh, bite me, drama queen.” You roll your eyes, preparing to stand up again, but then you notice the dark circles on his usually flawless skin, the messiness of his hair, and the fact that he’s still wearing his suit from last night, though the tie is gone and the first few buttons of his shirt are loosened. “...did you actually sleep out here? On the floor? Why didn’t you just sleep on the bed like a normal person?”

“I couldn’t.” He pouts even more, and when you nudge his leg with your foot, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It didn’t feel right without you. It never does. But it felt even worse after last night.”

It melts your heart, you admit. Just a little. But it’s not enough to make you forgive him or to forget your argument, and right now he’s looking at you like he knows that too.

Still, you feel the urge to remind him, “I’m still pissed at you.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. Not just for what I said last night, but for everything I’ve done before that. I never should’ve made you feel like you’re asking for too much, because you’re not, it’s just…” He takes a shaky breath, leans his head back against the couch from where he sits beside you on the floor. “...it’s hard.”

He turns his body slightly so he’s facing you fully. He starts to reach out a hand towards you, almost like he wants to cup your cheek, but he seems to think better of it and lets his hand drop down between you. You almost smile.

His eyes are hesitant as they meet yours, apologetic. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either.” You fiddle with the straps of your gown where they’ve slid down your arm. You were so exhausted and upset after your fight with him that you didn’t bother to change out of it. “...do you really think I’m needy and demanding?”

“Of course not,” he answers easily. “Do you really think I’m chasing a pointless dream?”

“Definitely not. Your dream isn't pointless, Tooru, it’s amazing, and it’s one I know you can reach.” Your hands brush where they rest between you. He tenses slightly, like he’s not sure you’ll want to touch him after everything, but you slide your fingers through his and watch as he lets out a quiet sigh of relief. “I was just angry.”

“Me too.” He squeezes your hand, and you let him pull you a bit closer to him, let him press a kiss to the back of your palm. “I don’t want to fight with you. And I definitely don’t want to disappoint you anymore.”

“I don’t want to blame you or resent you anymore, either.” You inch closer and he lets you rest your head against his shoulder, resting his own against yours in return. A clock ticks on the wall behind you. For the first time in a while, it feels like the two of you are back in sync. “So what are we gonna do about it?”

It’s the million-dollar question, it seems. And it’s the one that, after weeks of heartache, of missing each other and blaming each other at the same time, he finally has the answer to.

When you return to Argentina together, everything changes. Oikawa’s determination goes back to being something you love, now that he’s putting it towards making sure the two of you get to spend time together. He’s at the apartment more; does his best to get to dinner on time, to attend outings with your family and friends, and to meet you halfway at fancy restaurants and magnificent museums and shower you with his undivided attention.

It’s not perfect. He’s still busy, so he can’t be with you all the time, but the effort is there. You see it now more than ever, and it’s all you’ve wanted.

It doesn’t last.

You spend three blissful months together, both of you putting in an equal amount of effort to make it work, to understand each other and support each other, even when it seems impossible. But Oikawa’s schedule becomes more and more unyielding as time goes on, and it’s not long before the cycle of absence starts all over again.

If you had to really pinpoint the beginning of the end, you’d say it’s the night of your presentation. The research project you’ve spent countless hours working on has finally been completed, and tonight you’re going to share it with the public; this thing you’ve struggled with since you entered grad school, this thing you’ve put your blood, sweat, and tears into, both metaphorically and literally.

It goes incredibly well, as your professors and mentors reassured you it would. Your classmates, friends, and parents are all there, and they get to watch and glow with pride as the room erupts into applause once you finish your presentation, knocking the whole thing out of the park just like they knew you would.

The only one who isn’t there is Oikawa, despite you telling him about this ages ago, despite it being written on the calendar hanging on your fridge. You know he texted you with some excuse, but you don’t bother to check which one it was this time.

It should hurt more. It should make you want to shout and scream, to sob and cry, but it doesn’t. The anger you felt before, the fury and heartbreak; it’s not there anymore. It’s gone. You’re not sad or upset or disappointed. You just don’t feel anything at all.

Your friends offer to take you out for the night to celebrate, but you politely decline. Instead, you make your way to the apartment you share with Oikawa, finding it emptier than it’s ever been before.

Months ago, you might’ve cried. Now you do nothing, say nothing, feel nothing. It’s just numb.

By the time Oikawa does make it home, you’re already packed. You’re sitting at the table, waiting, still as a statue. He greets you in a flurry of brown hair and frantic movement, an apology you don’t care to listen to fast on his lips. He whirls by you so quickly he doesn’t even notice your bags stacked next to you.

“Shit, baby, I’m so sorry! I know I’m late, but I’m here now and I promise I won’t be going anywhere for the next few–…”

It takes him a few moments, a couple of double-takes, but finally, he registers the silence around him, the sight of you at the table, surrounded by your things. For once, he has no idea what to say; you see it in the way he looks at you, the way he freezes, wide-eyed and almost afraid.

“My research presentation was today,” you start. “It went great. They’re going to publish it in a journal.”

You watch his face crumple right before your eyes, watch the way his shoulders slump. He looks more defeated now than during any of his previous losses, and so, so incredibly guilty.

“But I thought it wasn’t until–...but it was, wasn’t it? Oh, god. I– I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are.”

You stand up. The smile you send him is tired and a little sad, but it’s not bitter, at least not anymore. You’re past that now. You’d like to think you both are.

“I’m so proud of you, Tooru. You work harder than anybody I’ve ever known. I just know you’re going to reach every single one of your dreams.”

You mean it, too. Oikawa has an incredible future ahead of him. You’ve always known that. Once upon a time, you believed you might be a part of it, but not anymore.

“...but I also know that I can’t be with you when you do. I can’t– I won’t be second place for the rest of my life.”

He’s incredibly stubborn, and this time is no different. He tries to change your mind, tries to convince you to stay, but it’s far too little and far too late. Too much has happened between you two, and you just don’t have it in you to be disappointed anymore.

You love him. You do. You always will, and you tell him so, too. But just because you love someone, you remind him softly, doesn’t mean you’re meant to be with them. You love him enough to let him go, and you’re hoping he loves you the same.

“But you promised you’d stay,” he whispers, more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him over all of this, over you. “You promised we’d figure it out. And now...now you’re just giving up on us?”

You place your keys on the table. The clock in your– no, his kitchen ticks along. It matches the slow, broken beating of your heart. He’s run out of time, and you’ve run out of chances.

“That’s just it, Tooru. I have nothing left to give you.”

This time when you leave, you don’t look back.

Written by: Dawn

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa imagines #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #our writing #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru angst #dawn writes

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Begin Again (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Inspo: Begin Again by Adam Melchor

Summary: Dating apps never pair you with the right people. Until you come across the profile of a handsome, pancake loving FBI agent named Marcus.

W/C: 4.8k

Warnings: lots of talk of food, language, late night deep conversations, some sadness at the end but nothing intense? reader has a pet cat, is that worth a warning? idk

A/N: HI GUYS this is my first full length Marcus Pike fic! I really hope you like it!! thank you so much to @theteddylupinexperience and @sanchosammy for being my best editors and proofreaders and idea givers!!!

note: PLS listen to the song before/after/while reading! it’s one of my favs and it really goes along with the story

Over the course of your adult years, you’ve become convinced that dating apps are complete and utter bullshit. The algorithms never work right, never pair you or any of your friends with anyone worth seeing in person. Maybe that’s just the problem; maybe it’s not the apps but the people. Whatever the answer is, whatever reason you’ve never found success in the endless swiping, you’re through with it.

That was before last week. The rainy Tuesday night left you in your apartment, alone, to succumb to the cold spring dreariness. Over a cup of hot tea, you’d downloaded the app again. Might as well try, right? You have nothing to lose. If worst comes to worst, catfishing an annoying guy is always a blast. The good news is that this app requires you as the woman to make the first move. That’s kind of a downside- you never know how to start conversations- but at least you can’t get unsolicited dick pics right off the bats. Life is full of tradeoffs, you suppose.

You begin again. The app becomes your favorite pastime. Bored at work or home? Dating app it is. Left. Left. Left. Boring man after boring man. One labeled himself super-straight: absolutely fucking not. One holding a fish: nope. A man who describes himself as a gym rat: not your type. It’s a boring way to spend your lunch break, you’re aware, but the entertainment value is fun if nothing else. There are a lot of strange men out there.

After a few days, your luck seems to turn around as the photo of a man with brown hair and warm brown eyes pops up on your screen. He has a scruffy beard and wavy hair, and the way his smile tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart flutter. He’s really cute, you have to admit. You read the bio next.

Marcus, 35

❗️ Washington, D.C.

Got forced into making this, but optimistic. Lover of art, dogs, and time to relax. Always down for breakfast for dinner and cuddling. Looking for someone with a sense of independence, love of travel, and a sleep schedule equally fucked up as mine. Must love pancakes.

Must love pancakes. That’s absolutely adorable. You immediately think of your cat, named Pancake, and you laugh and swipe right, hoping the man already thought the same of you. Your eyes widen with excitement and you almost laugh out loud from your giddy state when you see the little logo indicating it’s a match.

The first message you send him has to be perfect. You ponder your options for a minute, frowning and furrowing your brow as you think. You don’t want to come on too strong; you’re not trying to sound like you want a hookup. A simple one-word greeting wouldn’t be enough.

You could comment on something from his bio, you realize as you read it again and again. Maybe ask him about his dog? No, that’s too awkward. You want it to be about him, something that can draw him in. Talk about traveling? No, you don’t want to sound like you’re bragging about the places you’ve gone in your life.

Pancakes. Pancakes are good. You love pancakes. You think for a second more, debating what to say, before inspiration strikes and you send off the message before you can stop yourself.

Marcus Pike has essentially felt the same as you. He’s a somewhat charming man. He’s had his fair share of relationships, but they never quite work out. His ex-wife, now long gone and blocked from his phone, was an absolute failure of a relationship. He’d gotten close to what felt like true love with Teresa, another FBI agent, but she flaked at the last second.

Maybe the constant here was that he met them in person. When Marcus falls, he falls hard and fast, down an endless spiral of emotions with no escape. Maybe if he met someone online, it would be different. His best friends had all encouraged it, and on a night out not long after Teresa left him, Pike set up his own profile. He liked that the app didn’t require him to make the first move. It’s refreshing.

Marcus had seen your profile hours ago, on a mindless phone break from his work. He’d swiped right too, stunned by your smile and the lovelines you radiated even through the phone. He crossed his fingers for a good part of the day, hoping you’d swipe right on him too.

His day is busy, leaving him no time to fiddle with his phone and distract himself. He eats in the cafeteria, checking up on his phone. After lunch, he’s walking back to his office when his heart flutters as he sees the dating app indicates he’s had a match. He looks at it and swallows hard before stopping, moving to the side of the hallway to allow others to pass. He’s breathing hard, and his heart speeds up when he sees that you are the one that matched with him.

He knows how this app works. He has to wait now, to let you make the first move. He can’t even write a message until you send one. So he pockets his phone again and continues on his walk.

He’s determined on his walk, rushing back to his desk so he can sit and be thoroughly enthralled in waiting for or receiving your response. His phone buzzes several times with notifications, one of which he prays is you. When he finally sits, he opens the app ceremoniously and has to hold back a genuine laugh when he sees your first message.

Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus shoots back a text nearly immediately. Sorry, what?

Your bio. “Must love pancakes”. Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus is absolutely beaming as he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs. Blueberry. Always. I hope that’s the right answer :)

Unfortunately, it’s not, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide

You called him cute. It makes Marcus’s heart flutter. Come on. There’s nothing like the warm blueberry popping in your mouth.

There is. It’s when the chocolate chips are all melty and creamy.

God, Marcus is already painfully into you. You know what… at least you love pancakes. I’ll let it slide. You got a favorite place?

Anywhere I can get ‘em. You seem like quite the connoisseur, do you have one place in mind?

Jane slams down a stack of files on Marcus’s desk. “Paperwork overflow, Pike. Can you get these done tonight?”

Marcus is the fastest in the office with paperwork, which often leads to him being the one that flies through the files in the place of the people who actually filed it. He nods. What else is there to do? “Sure.”

Jane claps him on the shoulder and wanders off. Marcus watches him in slight annoyance. The best place in D.C. is definitely Sandy’s. Hey I gotta go, text ya later?

I’d love that :)

It didn’t take long for your texting to move from the dating app to actual texting. It happened within the same day, in fact.

Marcus messaged you some hours after the initial conversation. Your phone buzzed while you were doing yoga in your apartment, your cat curled into a ball beneath your stomach as you held a downward dog. You nearly collapsed on top of Pancake as you fumbled to sit cross-legged on the end of your yoga mat.

The message from Marcus is bright on the top of your screen. Hi. Sorry that took so long. Work stuff.

Smiling, you take a swig from your water bottle and lean back against your couch. Not a problem. Understandable. What do you do for a living? It’s a loaded question in D.C.; they could range anywhere from politicians to their rich sons to artists and athletes.

I work for the FBI, actually.

Your eyes light up in excitement. That’s the coolest shit I’ve heard. What do you do? Are you an agent?

The man’s responses don’t take long at all. He must be waiting in the chat to respond. The idea makes your heart flutter. Yep, I’m an agent. I work in international art crimes.

You certainly didn’t expect that for an answer. Wow, okay, that’s even cooler than I thought. I was about to call you Agent Pancake but I think my girl would be disheartened...

Snapping a photo of the way Pancake is nuzzling into your side, meowing for snuggles, you have to laugh as you send the photo his way. Funny you love pancakes so much. This little muppet is named Pancake.

Marcus responds with a barrage of heart-eyes emojis, which makes you laugh aloud and scoop Pancake into your lap, stroking her strawberry-blonde fluff. She’s an absolute angel. Like her mother, I’m presuming.

Your cheeks flood with warmth and you can feel the tips of your ears turning hot too. You’ve never even met me, Agent…? You trail off the text, asking for his last name.

Pike.

Agent Marcus Pike. What a nice sounding name. It sounds official and strong and you really like it. Cute last name. Might steal it from ya someday ;)

You don’t normally flirt this shamelessly, but he’s so goddamn cute and funny. You cross your fingers behind your back that this isn’t just a facade, that this is Marcus himself texting like he would to anyone else. You got a phone number?

As you laugh, Pancake paws at your chest to grab your attention, nails nearly digging into the stretchy fabric of your yoga tank top. “Watch it,” you scold her softly and remove her paw from your chest, picking her up and giving her a kiss on the head. Sure do. You want it?

Yes please.

You send your number his way and moments later, your phone pings with a text from an unlabeled number.

Maybe: Pike: hey, it’s Pike :)

You: hey… dammit, I really want to call you Agent Pancakes, but I think my fluffy little heathen would be offended. I don’t know what to save you in my phone as...

Agent Pancakes: Save me as whatever, I suppose. Not my problem, right?

The texts became more frequent. Over the course of three weeks, you’d stay up late talking like teenagers, knowing you need to go to bed but unable to bring yourself to do it.

You learned that his middle name was Mauricio, that his mother wanted him to have at least something a little more Latino in his name. You told him the story of how you’d adopted Pancake as a kitten from a shelter and she woke you up one morning with her claws entwined in a snarl of your hair. He told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancée, Teresa, and you responded that he deserved something better than that. You can already tell that he’s a good man.

At the end of three weeks, you shot Marcus a text. Things seemed to be going pretty well.

You: Hey, you want to do a video call sometime soon?

Agent Pancakes: I’d love that! I’m free tonight if you are.

You: Always free. Shouldn’t you know that?? Doesn’t the FBI spy on us through our phones and whatever?

Agent Pancakes: well, I do work in art crimes. Even if we did, it would be a totally different thing

You: Good.

An hour later, you fidget with your hands as you sit on your couch, the laptop propped up across from you and ringing for a video chat. Marcus’s profile picture bobs on the screen as you wait for him to pick up.

Marcus’s face and apartment fills your screen, and you automatically grin. “Hi,” you giggle and wave, absolutely enraptured by how cute his real smile is, not the forced one in the photos.

“Hey. Nice to kind of-finally meet you,” he tells you and waves back. The wall of his apartment is nothing exciting, but his facial expressions already have you falling. Those big brown eyes compliment natural but ridiculously pink lips, and his brown hair is neatly done. It looks like he’s wearing a tie and a dress shirt; probably his work gear, you suppose.

“You too!” You tell him, unable to stop smiling. “You shaved.”

Marcus’s heart jumps out of his chest when he sees you ringing him. He barely has time to flop on the couch and turn it on, propping up the camera across from him.

God, you’re so gorgeous. Your giggle is infectious, making Marcus laugh softly at god knows what. Your grin is equally as contagious, making him smile back. He rubs his jaw in response. “Yeah, yeah. I tend to keep it clean there. Stubble takes too much maintenance, and I have this little patch where it never quite grows,” he tells you as he juts his chin to the camera, touching the spot where his beard can’t grow.

“I like it either way,” you assure him, shrugging a little. “How was your day, Agent Pancakes?” Your voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, even with the granulated audio over this shitty app. Agent Pancakes makes his heart flutter. “No, not you!” You groan as Pancake climbs onto your lap. “Hi. Your twin wants to say hi.”

Marcus’s smile widens. “Oh my god, hello cutie pie,” he chuckles, launching into baby talk. “What a pretty girl. You make a good Pancake.”

You smile and rub her fur, grinning. “She’s my baby,” you chuckle and set her aside. “Yeah. I’m busy. Leave me alone.” Pancake meows in protest. “Shut up, I’m on a date,” you whine.

Marcus’s ears perk up. “This is a date?”

Your eyes widen as you turn back to him. “I… yeah?” You ask, wincing a little.

He grins back at you. “I like it. And I’m really in love with the idea of seeing your face when you talk.”

“I like your voice,” you flirt back, but you mean it. “It’s so pretty. Do you sing?” You ask mindlessly, studying the way his brow furrows and his eyes convey exactly what he’s thinking.

He chuckles softly. “I used to. I haven’t in a long long time.”

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime.”

When he shakes his head, his neatly gelled hair tries to break free. A strand does, falling in his face. “You don’t wanna hear it, I promise.” He removes his tie, and you can’t help but watch the movement. It’s incredibly sexy.

A mischievous smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. “No, I really do, I really think I do.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Only if you try the pancakes at Sandy’s sometime. I promise you, they’re the best pancakes in the District. I’ve never had the chocolate chip pancakes, but if they’re anywhere near as good as the blueberry, they’re fantastic. And they’re open 24 hours. I go there a lot for late night case work.”

You smile at that, getting cozy on your couch and hugging your blanket. “That does sound nice. I love a good all day breakfast,” you say with raised eyebrows, the teasing in your voice. “Okay, human Pancakes. How was your day?” You ask him again, intent on hearing his answer. Not only is his job fascinating, but he’s adorable when he explains things.

Marcus frowns, and that makes you instinctively frown too. “Well, it’s been good. We’re tracking a huge smuggling ring right now, but since we’ve pinpointed a stock house for them, I might have to travel for a while.”

You frown. You’d been hoping you could have a real date soon, at least. “How long is a while?” You ask him curiously, sipping from your water bottle that sits next to you.

“Couple weeks. No less than a month, probably. I’d… well, I might have to go undercover, which means we couldn’t talk for a while.” His eyes are apologetic, showing that he hates this news as much as you do. “And… I’d leave maybe tomorrow or the day after.”

Your heart sinks. “So soon,” you say with a sad smile, a desperate and lonely chuckle. “Well, if you want to come home to me, I’ll be here.”

Marcus’s smile perks up just slightly. “You would be the best thing in the world to come home to. And I’ll have the scruff back by then.”

“Yes!” You exclaim and laugh, pumping a fist in the air. “I think you’re really cute anyway, but I really love the scruff,” you shrug shyly.

“Maybe I’ll grow it out just for you.”

The adrenaline from his first technical-date with you prevents Marcus from sleeping. The call lasted hours, the two of you covering almost everything important in your lives. You talked about your favorite television programs and politics, your parents and your favorite pizza toppings. Talking with him was like nothing you’d ever experience, a connection you’d never thought a dating app could offer.

After several hours, during a lull in the conversation, Marcus suggested the two of you log off. It was around 11 P.M. now, and, even though Marcus has a sleep schedule like a raccoon, he figured you should sleep. He blew you a kiss through the camera, which you pretended to hold to your chest and grin at him.

But now it’s an hour later, just past midnight, and Marcus is antsy. He doesn’t sleep much anyway, but your face is running through his mind like it owns the place, and at this point, maybe you do. Marcus sits up in bed and sighs. He knows the proper remedy for this: Sandy’s. Throwing on a rare pair of jeans and a leather jacket over the white v-neck he wears, he slips on his shoes and makes his way to the tiny, 24-hour diner.

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins too. You text any of your friends that will listen, rambling about how beautiful Marcus’s face is and how wonderful it was to finally hear his voice. You pace your apartment, petting Pancake as you pass her perch on the arm of your couch. You try to do a little yoga to calm down but you can’t stop smiling. Marcus occupies too much room in your brain to try to think about anything else.

When it’s just after midnight, hunger strikes. You realize you never ate dinner, too preoccupied with talking to the handsome man to even consider microwaving something from your fridge. Talking with Marcus has instilled you with a love for pancakes, and you think to yourself that maybe Sandy’s would be worth a shot. It’s open late.

So you toss on a jacket and pick up your purse, slinging it over your shoulder and leaving your apartment. You toss the book you’ve been reading into your bag, planning to read it while you sit and eat. Pancake gives a sleepy meow of protest but you just smile and lock the door behind you.

The diner is just as small as Marcus described it to you: just a short line of booths along the windows and a smattering of tables in the middle. There’s a colorful, warm-toned tile floor that juxtaposes the warm green of the walls and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting through the air. Quiet classic swing music filling the atmosphere. You can see why he likes it: it automatically makes you smile.

You sit in one of the booths, facing away from the door, and the kind waitress takes your order: chocolate chip pancakes and an English breakfast tea. The air conditioning is blasting, making you chilly. You tighten your jacket around yourself and sip the tea when it arrives, adding cream and sugar.

Cracking open the book, you cross your legs and lose yourself in the book. The restaurant has a calming aura, and you can feel the tea warming you from the inside. It’s fitting that Marcus loves this place, you think to yourself.

When the pancakes come not long after, you take a bite and almost groan in happiness. It’s absolutely delicious: Marcus was most definitely right. Disappointingly, you have to go to the bathroom about three bites in.

Even the bathrooms are cute, you discover. When you return, someone else sits a booth away, another lone diner at this godforsaken hour of night, facing the door. You can see the back of what appears to be a man’s head, neatly trimmed brown hair and a brown leather jacket over their neck and shoulders. Sitting back down, your back to the other customer’s, you return to your book and continue to eat your chocolate chip pancakes.

The customer and waitress are talking, but you don’t pay much attention, too enraptured by your book. It’s quiet again after the man puts in his order, and you enjoy the soft jazz music that makes you tap your foot in time against the tile.

There’s a buzzing and the melodic sound of a phone’s ringtone; one of the defaults that a phone provides. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the man pick up. “Agent Pike.”

That can’t be your Agent Pike, can it? You turn and listen and realize it’s definitely him, from his voice and the way he holds himself and the stack of- of course, blueberry pancakes and a hot coffee set in front of him.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Let me write that down.” Marcus types something into his phone. “See you then. At the office? Good. Alright, see you.” He hangs up.

Standing, you tuck your book back in your purse and put the bag over your shoulder. With one hand, you grab your plate of pancakes, and the other grabs your tea. You set them down across from him and slide into the booth, grinning. “Huh. Agent Pancakes, here, in the middle of the night. How unusual.”

Marcus’s tired face lights up in excitement. “What?” He laughs, his eyes scanning your face. “Why are you here?”

You shrug and take a bite of his pancakes, sighing. “Had to see if they were worth the hype. I couldn’t sleep, you got me so excited.” The blueberry pancakes are absolutely fantastic, just as good if not better than the chocolate chip ones on your plate. “Damn, you were right.”

“Hey,” he laughs and pulls his plate closer to his chest. “Don’t touch my pancakes.”

You make pleading pouty eyes, frowning a little. “Can’t we share?” You tease. It already feels like you’ve known him for years, even though this is your first time seeing him in person.

Marcus sighs. “I suppose,” he says and rolls his eyes in sarcasm, pushing his plate back out so you can access it.

Marcus is beyond stunned, absolutely enraptured in how beautiful you are in person. If he thought he fell on that video call earlier, he’s now reached the very bottom of that cliff, the impact of your everything stealing the air from his lungs. God, he wants nothing more than to kiss you right now, on those lips coated in blueberry juice and maple syrup.

The two of you spend quite some time so there, just talking and continuing the conversation where it left off before. The waitress refills Marcus’s coffee twice and your tea once. “So who called you when you were sitting alone?” You ask him as you bring the white porcelain mug to your lips, sipping at the creamy tea.

He sighs. “Guy I work with, his name’s Patrick. He’s a douchebag, I can’t lie,” he says with a chuckle, and his heart flutters at the way you give a soft laugh back. “Just telling me the details. I leave in about 6 hours. I’ll be in Singapore for a couple of weeks.”

“Singapore?” You exclaim, eyes wide as your fork clanks against your plate. “You better be able to contact me.”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m going undercover. I can’t.” He sighs, and he dares to reach out and touch you, to reassure you that he’s there and himself that you’re real, that you’re right there. “Will you wait for me?”

Your heart melts, from an already slush-covered river to a rushing rapids. “Of course, Marcus.” It makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve called him lots of nicknames, but never his real name. Something is painfully intimate about it. “I like you a lot; why wouldn’t I?” You ask, shrugging as if it’s the simplest thing. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

When you finish your meals, Marcus picks up both tabs, despite your protesting. “Can I walk you to your place?” He asks as you both stand and adjust your jackets.

You nod and take his hand. The lights of the city are seemingly extra dim tonight, leaving the street lights to illuminate your beautiful face as the two of you stroll along. You have all the time in the world, don’t you? It’s 1:30 in the morning. You’re both already evading sleep desperately. A little more time together can’t hurt.

His hand never leaves yours, his fingers lacing through your knuckles. You chat quietly, as if you could wake the sleeping city from the peaceful blue drone of a weeknight morning into its daily splendor of horns and hordes of speedy pedestrians.

Marcus bumps your shoulder with his, making you stumble a little to the side and laugh as you look up at his gorgeous face. His face reflects the love you’re both feeling, almost giving the city around you a pink glaze of warmth from the rose-colored glasses you must have placed over his eyes.

The walk draws to an end, as you stand at the entrance to your apartment building. Marcus’s body looks so soft and inviting, and you dare to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him to your chest. “I don’t want you to go, Agent Pancakes,” you murmur into the soft skin of his neck, which is starting to get a shadow of stubble.

Marcus kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t move either, prolonging this time you have together before he can’t see you. “I don’t want to go. I’ve never wanted to stay here more than I do now, but I have to.” His arms wrap around your waist, strong and safe.

Lifting your head, you look up at him, your noses practically touching from the proximity you share. The world feels like a bubble around you two, like some impenetrable one-way material that makes it so if Marcus leaves now, he can never come back. “Well, it’s gonna be a long time, a month or two,” you say with a sad smile. “We’ll have to begin again.”

Marcus shakes his head, his brown eyes almost welling with tears. “There’s no one else I’d want to begin again with.” With that, he looks in your eyes, the question hanging there. Wait for me?

Always, you respond silently by pressing your lips to his, kissing him slowly in the orange glow of your apartment building’s entrance. He kisses back, his lips tasting of coffee and maple and blueberry, yours tasting like chocolate and tea.

You squeeze your arms tighter around him, getting on your tiptoes to be as physically close as you can to him. He has one hand on either side of your rib cage, holding you there as he kisses back with all of the passion and love he has.

It can’t last too long or he’ll never leave. He won’t be able to. He breaks away after a few moments, his lips close to yours. He presses your foreheads together, arms encircling you again. “I have to go. I have to be at the office in an hour.”

You lift your head and your brow furrows in confusion. “Then why did you take so long to walk and eat with me?” You laugh quietly.

Marcus shrugs. “Didn’t want to leave you yet,” he admits, his eyes trained on yours. He gives you one last painfully gentle kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you say with a sad smile. “You’ve been my distraction lately. Whenever I’m bored, I text you.”

He sighs, the confession increasing his frown. “I’ll be in an entirely new place, without you.”

“But I’ll be here, in my same old life without you in it.”

The words punch a hole through Marcus’s heart. It’s true; he’ll have new distractions, new things to do. You’ll be here with a Marcus Pike-shaped hole in your heart. He kisses your forehead, the wheels turning in his head. “If you get a call in the next few weeks from an unknown number, be sure to answer it, okay?”

You nod and smile softly. “You need to go. Go.”

He nods and his hand squeezes yours. “I can’t wait to begin again with you.” With that, Marcus Pike, Agent Pancakes, whatever you want to call him, the man you’re highly suspecting might be your soulmate, walks off into the slightly chilly D.C. night.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike headcanons #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #begin again

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

Shattered

Broken Things to Mend

Part 1 of 1

Word Count: 5998

A soulmate au where you have the first sentence your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

TW: Abuse, neglect and starvation mentions (I’m sure theres more pls let me know if I need to add anything)

You were roughly thrown into a cell and the door shut behind you with a snap, exhausted you fall to your knees and stay on the floor rather than trying to fight your way back out. You were tired, so, so tired. Your body ached, cuts and bruises littered every inch of your skin, mere hours ago you had felt invincible but now you were nothing but broken. You collapsed to your knees and cried on the floor wondering how you had fallen so far.

Here you were locked in a cell on Asgard, and here was where you were going to stay until the humans had something properly set up to contain you. Why you had tried to take over that planet you weren't quite sure, tired of feeling weak had lead you down a dark path. A path from which you couldn't return, and had been regretting as you walked down it. But you couldn't stop yourself and now it was too late.

Broken was the only way to describe yourself, you had been broken for millennia and had finally thought you could piece yourself back together when you'd found the infinity stone. The power stone. You'd thought yourself strong enough to use its power, to stop those who had hurt you and others who wanted to hurt innocents in their paths. You had soon found you weren't strong enough, you were alone and it had corrupted your mind, having no one to anchor you to reality. That's when he had shown up. The purple Titan set on reforming the universe, making it a better place, and in your broken state of mind his plan had made sense, you had agreed to help him, to take out the biggest threat in his way.

You had failed, you had lost to that group called the Avengers and soon enough Thanos would be coming after you himself to remove any loose ends. You weren't the first he had sent but you were most likely the last he'd send on their own without him to lead them directly. He'd only kept you because you were able to hold the power stone in your hands and not be destroyed, someone broken who he could control who could keep the stone safe until he was able to wield it himself.

As soon as he'd seen you failing to take earth he had taken the stone from you and left you for dead. Once you were no longer in possession of the gem you had come back to your senses, seen all the havoc you'd wreaked upon that innocent planet. But it was too late, you were already the enemy and they'd never understand if you tried to explain. So you had fought, continuing to try and protect yourself and your life until they had finally overcome you.

Now you were sitting in a cell, back to yourself but now shattered rather than having just a few chips on your broken soul. You'd ben controlled and manipulated your entire life, by those who claimed to be your friends and family, but it was only ever for the power which you had. Seemingly the last of your species, dark and wraith-like nothing more than a wisp of what you could be and easy to control. A child who could wield the power of the infinity stones, any powerful person would want you in their control.

All of that manipulation had left you more than a little broken, to the point that as soon as you had actually been able to get your hands on that gem you'd instantly turned on them. Then you'd gone after all the others who had manipulated you and dictated your life. You'd been passed from hand to hand as a slave would be, malnourished to keep a leash on you. Sometimes you were sold, other times traded, but mostly those who had been holding you were attacked and killed so that somebody new could control you.

Despite having wielded the infinity stone less than a day before you were back to that state you had been in. The stone had been the only thing sustaining your life and making you seem to be anything more than someone who'd been a broken child and was now a broken adult. You fall asleep on your place on the floor in that cell on Asgard, you were powerless to do anything and you knew it, sleeping was the only way you'd be able to ignore the crushing guilt you felt for all you had done.

All too soon you're woken up, the drapes over the glass door of your cell being opened wide and exposing you to the glaring lights. You preferred the dark as any wraith would, it was your natural state to be in the dark, so natural that the light almost hurt. Once you're awake you look over your thin arms and legs, the bruises and cuts from the fight before all healed, thats why they'd opened the drapes, you'd had enough time to heal in the dark but they didn't want to leave you in the dark. The darkness brought you power, not as much power as that gem had, and not as Much as any sort of nutrients would but it had allowed you to heal.

After your eyes finish lingering on the elegant script on your forearm you pull your sleeve to cover it and look up. Across the hallway was another cell, this one containing a raven haired man, his gaze fixed on you and not breaking even when you meet his stare with your own. He looks to be in good shape and everyone else there would think so as well, but you were able to see the haze of magic over his room. You couldn't see through it, you didn't know what he was hiding but there was something he was keeping from prying eyes and you could only applaud him for being able to protect himself in such a way.

~~~~~

Loki had looked up from his book when the drapes across the prison hall were drawn away from the cell they'd been covering from his view. Inside was a person most unusual, a wisp of a being, with grayish skin and sunken eyes which had seen so many things. What were they? He asked himself, intrigued as he'd never seen anything like them before. He's surprised when they meet his eyes and don't look away immediately as anyone else would. The few moments of eye contact are brief as the figure gets up off the floor and seemingly drifts over to their cot.

Peculiar, a long dark robe covered their grayish form, ending a foot or so from the ground revealing no legs or feet touching the floor. There was a faint cloud of dark mist that seemed to surround them, which pooled around where their feet should have been. This was their natural form, no magic concealed who they were as he did with himself. He watches as they take a seat on their cot, the mist around them gathers and forms some spindly legs. Intriguing, now that he had seen that he couldn't unsee it, their entire form seemed to be made of mist, there but not really there, but by the way they sat thy definitely has a solid form in there somewhere.

~~~~~

You'd moved to your cot, hoping that movement would break the stranger's eye contact but when you sat and turned around his gaze was still fixed on you. You hated being perceived, anytime someone looked at you there was a thirst to their gaze, a desire as they wanted to own you. His gaze was different though, more curious than wanting to control you. It eased you ever so slightly, but you still hated it, so you stared back.

Most wouldn't hold your gaze for long before breaking it, they found you horrible to look at with your grey skin and sunken eyes. You weren't always like that though, when you'd had the power stone you had found your true form, what you'd look like if you had been properly taken care of and healthy. Even then, in your true form, people wouldn't hold your gaze, you were no longer the disgusting monster you were currently but they could see the inside. Your grace and power which flowed off of you in that form intimidated them and they'd look away, but this man didn't.

You stare back at him, allowing yourself to break eye contact knowing intimidation and fear would get him to stop, so let him look at the monster you were. You were the most horrible creature someone could set eyes on in their lifetime, if he wanted the sight of you burned into his retina who were you to stop him? So instead you take your own turn to observe him, taking in his features, taking time to notice more than just the raven hair that flowed to his shoulders. His emerald eyes were the first thing which you noticed besides the hair, but it wasn't so much the color that intrigued you it was the pain and loathing you could sense behind them. He did well to hide it but not from you, you had seen that look in your own eyes too many times to not recognize it.

Who knows how long the two of you spend staring at each other across that hallway, but you both allow it to go on. Him, intrigued by never having seen anything like you before and you staring as the face before you feels familiar. You hadn't spent much time around other beings, recognizing faces was not your strong suit but picking a voice out of a crowd was easy. Finally you place it, you place him. A face you'd seen many times in your nightmares. He was the one Thanos called Laufeyson, the one who had gone before you to earth to try and take over. The other one who had failed. The other one Thanos would come after in his rage. The other loose end was sitting there across the hallway from you.

For some reason the fact that he was also here brought you peace, it brought you hope. Maybe, just maybe he had also been controlled. Maybe he would back you up and make an attempt of explaining who Thanos was and what his plans were worth it. But you could be wrong. He could have done nearly the same thing you did but all of his own accord. He could've enjoyed hurting those people.

It was that thought that prevented you from trying to talk to him through the glass. You keep quiet except for when you're being questioned, then you give nothing but honest answers and they aren't believed so you're questioned again and again, tortured and punished for what they take to be lies. At least they allow you to sit in the dark after you're through with the torture, only long enough to heal, but it's long enough to bring you some solace and block the prying eyes.

The constant pain wasn't anything new to you, everyone who had kept you before this had done the same thing if only for different reasons. They had been scared of you, wanted to hurt you to keep you weak, the Asgardians though, were not scared of you. They wanted information and not to keep you on death's door, so their torture was nothing to you.

It becomes routine for you, one day of torture, one day of darkness and one day of nothing before the cycle begins again. One day you find yourself waiting for the guards to come get you, able to guess nearly down to the minute they would arrive each time, but today they don't come. Why they don't come you haven't a clue, until an hour later when a soldier comes storming down the stairs and the man across the hall gives him directions to somewhere.

Then after more hours pass then another guard, this one a guard of Asgard comes down the staircase and talks to the man across the hall. You watch as the magic haze over his room flickers before steadying out once more, whatever he had just been told upset him, and you could only hope it wasn't Thanos coming for the two of you.

The next morning you gain somewhat of an answer, the broad shouldered blond comes down and speaks to the raven haired man, Thor you believed his name was. He was one of the heroes who had protected earth from you. You're surprised when Loki's illusion is lifted from his cell, revealing the state he is in along with all of the broken furniture that had seemed pristine moments earlier. Then even more surprisingly Thor opens up the cell to release him before turning to face you and making your glass cell wall melt away as well.

"You are a wraith, yes?" he ask and you merely nod.

"A wraith you say?" Loki asks, his curiosity piqued once again by you.

"Brother, I need your help to watch her, she tried to take over Midgard as well, but we need her help," then Thor shoots you a look, questioning silently if you'd help.

You couldn't help but wonder how stupid he was as you nod, signaling you would help. He didn't know you, you were nothing but a monster so how could he so willingly trust you? His hand resting on your shoulder startles you, "very well, Wraith, I can see there is good in you-"

"Even with all those people I killed?" You ask, breaking your silence.

"Yes, I have heard the reports from the guards. You've remained steady in your story that you were manipulated into doing all of that and at this time we need all the help we can get and I'm willing to take the chance," he responds confidently.

You nod, once again, thoroughly confused but willing to follow him and his brother through the halls of the palace until you meet with a woman. "Loki, Wraith, this is Jane Foster- the dark elves are here because of her, the aether as fused with her body and they are trying to take her and destroy the nine realms."

"Are you serious Thor? You think that we stand a chance against the might of the dark elves?" Loki asks, irridiculously with a glance in your direction.

"We do, we have you brother and Jane is stronger than she seems," he tries to rest a hand on Loki's shoulder but the other man dodges the hand.

"What does the Wraith have to do with it?"

"When she tried taking over Midgard she carried the power stone in her hands and did not crumble to dust. The aether is much like the power stone and she should be able to protect it from the elves-"

"And you're just going to trust the fate of the nine realms to two criminals?" Loki asks, sounding like he just wants to argue.

"Yes. We must be getting out of here though," Thor says once again with that same confidence.

He leads the group of the four of you through the halls of the palace, taking some sudden turns and winding your way about until you come to an odd looking ship which he has all of you get in before he starts it up and begins flying all of you out of Asgard to who knows where. Once in the ship Loki turns his attention to you for the millionth time and you, as always, maintain eye contact. For some reason Loki's frustrations seem focused on you as he turns once more to Thor, "you've heard tales of the Wraiths and their power how can you trust this one so easily?!" he sounds outraged.

You turn away from him and take a deep breath, despite not having a reaction to all of the torture the sound of him yelling terrified you more than anything. So many times you'd been shouted at then beaten, scolded then thrown in a room lit so brightly it burned your skin. You needed to focus, try and figure out if Thor was being truthful in his trust of you, or if he was trying a different tactic of manipulating you. All you knew he was telling the truth about was that the woman, Jane, has an infinity stone bonded to her and it is slowly killing her.

You don't even realize that she has taken a seat next to you where you have your head in your hands and tried offering words of comfort. You shake your head, "no, Loki is right, it is foolish of Thor to trust me. I'm a monster who has never left anything but pain and destruction in my path. It may not have been my choice to attack earth but I was so filled with pain that I allowed it to happen and even if I can contain the power of the Aether I do not know how it will effect my mind."

"Useless," Loki spits at you.

Then you stand up, feeling anger as you face him, "I know who you are Loki. Thanos is coming for you just like he is coming for me because we failed to take down his enemies, do not act as though you are better than me, the power stone corrupted my mind because I am weak but I was never given a chance until now to do good and I am taking it even if you doubt me. I've learned the hard way I don't need other's approval."

You were going to continue but it is at this point you realize Loki's expression has changed from one of nearly disgust to shock. His masks had fallen down as he stares at you and you glance at Thor who is also looking at you in shock and by the time you're back to Loki his expression is stone cold once more. "What did you say?" he asks in a low tone.

You'd thought his shout had been bad but this terrified you so much more, he was far too calm. You take a shaky breath and say, more gently this time, "Thanos sent me when you failed. I was easy to manipulate because the power stone took ahold of my mind and he used that, I wouldn't doubt if he did the exact same thing to you-"

"Not that-" he says, that angered tone returning as he snatches your right wrist and lifts your sleeve to reveal your soul mark on your forearm. There, shining gold and beautiful against your grey skin was one word, "Useless."

~~~~~

A much as he hated to admit it the Wraith intrigued him, but the part that hurt, the part that made him feel angered towards them was that Thor had so easily trusted them, a complete stranger. Loki and Thor had been brothers, and sure Thor was an idiot for trusting Loki to help with this situation but him showing trust to a total stranger in the same minute he'd offered a second chance to Loki stung.

This is why he questions Thor, why he snaps at you, it's all a test to see if you truly could be trusted. You much like he had had tried to take over Midgard, you could be a good ally but with the situation at hand how could he know he could trust you. So he pushed, working quickly to find what things set you off, what things got you to break the state of silence you were always in.

He had found it, the one thing that made you angered enough to lash out was him spitting that single word at you. Your reaction had surprised him, how quickly you'd been on your feet and in his face. How your entire countenance shown with a deeply hidden power that it seemed even you were unaware of. But the part that surprised him the most were the words that left your lips as you faced him.

"I know you Loki." You hadn't said it with malice, but as a fact, now you knew him he hadn't a clue. He's in too much shock to hear the next words you say, stating how you won't be useless any longer.

He quickly masks his face once again when he realizes you had stopped speaking. He can't stop the hint of anger that crept into his tone. He was far from angry now, but anger was the only thing that kept anyone from getting close enough to him to see through his walls, "what did you say?" he asks in a low voice.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes as you go to respond, "Thanos sent me when you failed. I was easy to manipulate because the power stone took ahold of my mind and he used that, I wouldn't doubt if he did the exact same thing to you-"

"Not that-" he says but doesn't have the patience to explain. He catches your right wrist in his hand and lifts your sleeve to reveal your soul mark. He doesn't realize that his masks once again drop before you as he stares at the elegant script that covered your forearm. His cold finger runs gently over the word written on your soul, "useless," the first word he had uttered to the one who was his soulmate.

~~~~~

It's as his index finger runs over the mark on your arm that you realize what he has said. The first word he had spoken directly to you, the one that had brought you hope in some of your darkest moments, the one that had also broken you completely, even your soulmate thought you were useless. You can't help it as you snatch your arm away from him, how dare he- How dare he call you useless then stare at your soul mark- Even if he was your soulmate.

You're surprised when he actually lets you walk away to the other end of the ship without stopping you. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you stare at those beautiful yet painful letters on your arm, somewhere in the back of your mind you register Thor and Jane having a whispered conversation. Without turning around you know that Loki hadn't moved from his place and was still staring at your back, damn him why did he have to be like this.

You had only shared looks across that hallway for months, you'd never done anything to warrant him being rude to you in this way and now, knowing as well as he did that your souls were linked hurt. If you weren't already so broken you're sure it would have broken you more, would have been the final straw to tear you apart... There isn't time for you to dwell on that as the ship rocks back and forth, coming into contact with the turbulence of an atmosphere, you were landing and it was time for you to take your chance to do something good with your life. With that thought in your mind you pull your sleeve down to cover your arm again and turn to stride past Loki to the front of the ship.

~~~~~

Loki could only gaze after you when you walked away, he recognized a broken soul when he saw one, it was what he saw in the mirror everyday. He had seen the disdain and hurt in your eyes as you ripped your arm away from his grasp, and knowing you were the one he was meant to spend his life with, the one most likely to love him back and he had already hurt you. The feeling was so much worse than any torture that Thanos could think to inflict upon him.

When they were going in for a landing and you strode past him without a glance it was like a punch in the gut. He had ruined any chance he had of gaining you favor in less than and hour, just because he had to play stupid, stupid, mind games. He just had to try and push your buttons and test you as he always did with anyone he saw a possibility of being useful.

~~~~~

You look at Jane for a moment before gently resting your hand on her shoulder, "I'm going to try and take the aether from you..." you glance at Thor, "if I loose control I want you to do whatever it takes to keep me from hurting more people even if it means killing me." You make eye contact with him for a few moments before asking, "can you please promise me this?" You ask in barely more than a whisper, letting your shields down for once as you ask, you don't care you just don't want anyone to use you anymore.

"I will promise you Wraith, I will not let you bring harm to anyone else," Thor says confidently, though you do notice his glance at Loki.

That allows you to relax, you take your time as you come to a landing on the red desert planet below you to focus your attention on taking the Aether out of the human. By the time you all land you've been able to take it from her it's power flowing through you. This stone is much more subtle than the power stone, you're able to keep control of your own mind when the reality stone latches itself to you.

~~~~~

Loki can only watch as you take the Aether from Jane, hearing you didn't care how Thor stopped you only confirmed his fear he had scared you off with his childish games. Nevertheless as he watches he's amazed with the transformation your body goes through as you harness the power of the infinity stone.

Your grayish skin changes to a more human color, your body fills out, your wispy figure disappearing. The years of abuse disappearing from your form, revealing your true beauty and the confidence someone with your abilities should. He can only stand in awe of you and your appearance as you turn to then step off the ship onto the desert planet.

When he hesitates to follow Thor walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, "brother, it is not too late. You can see through lies, you would know if all that the Wraith has said is true or not. They are clearly as broken as you are, Brother, but they are willing to change. I'm sure that if you do, they also hold forgiveness in their heart." Thor gives him a firm pat on the shoulder as he turns to also leave the ship, "now let us go, and defeat the dark elves before they can take the Aether."

~~~~~

You stand and can see the ship of the Dark Elves' in the distance. If this was your end then so be it, you could finally rest with peace knowing you had aided Thor as some level of recompense for the damage you had caused. Jane comes to stand next to you, breathing deeply as she gently says, "thank you."

"I'm just glad that I am able to help the universe in some way," you respond, your eyes can't help but linger for a moment on her soul mark, on her right forearm where everyone's was. Part of you hoped that Loki wasn't your soulmate, it was only one word and not specific enough to guarantee anything, but you knew that wasn't the case, with the way he had reacted you knew the words on his arm were the first that left your lips when speaking to him.

"I know that you will," Jane says, removing you from your thoughts.

Thats when Thor makes his way down to the two of you, "Jane, you stay here but not on the ship, it is where you will be safest."

"Thor I am not going to just sit back and watch all of this happen, I might not be as powerful as the rest of you but I will be doing my part."

Thor can only nod, and you can see the fond smile he has on his face as he looks at her, "very well, but as soon as the convergence begins I will be placing you back on earth to do your part there." With that he leads the way towards the other ship, not waiting to see if his brother would be joining them. It would be very helpful to have the trickster at their side during this but after the words which had been spoken it made sense that Loki would need a moment.

As you walk Thor asks you if you know what you are capable of. "No, I don't I have been told of the things I can do as a Wraith but I have been kept subdued my entire existence so I haven't learned anything more that what you saw on earth... But I do have control of my own mind at this time," you add trying to make sure he wouldn't misunderstand you.

"It will be enough," he says and once again places a hand on your shoulder, but quickly removes it when you flinch. The group of twenty or so Dark Elves stand a few hundred feet in front of you when Thor speaks again, raising his voice to shout, "Malekith! Today is the day you meet your end, I will not allow you to destroy the nine realms."

"Thor," Malekith responds with a eerie smile on his face, "I thank you for delivering the Aether to me, unfortunately you won't be around to see the realms brought to perfection." It's with that that he points a finger towards your group, signaling for his followers to attack you.

Everything happening flies past, much like it had on earth, you fight alongside Thor using the power of the Aether to aid you, but then you come face to face with Malekith. The Elf has some sort of hold over the Aether and by extension you, he lifts you into the air and begins to take the Aether from you. No matter how you struggle you can feel not just the Aether but also your life slipping away from you, he wasn't taking just the infinity stone but all the power your weak body held. You try and fight, and try to hold on but before it your vision goes black.

You didn't expect too but you're able to open your eyes again hours later, the Aether has left you so you are back to your grey wispy form but your body doesn't ache as badly as you had expected. This planet was dark so it made sense, you'd been able to heal yourself in the shadows. You sit up, your eyes already adjusted to the dark, but just now noticing that there was nothing on the planet around you. There was some rubble of the ship nearby but besides that nothing, no Dark Elves, no Thor, no Jane. You were alone and how exactly you felt about that you weren't sure, you'd never been left so completely alone before.

Your reaction comes slowly, you can only assume that since you are alive you had done your part but it doesn't stop you from crying as suddenly everything sets in. You'd been able to do something good with your life, finally, but as you always had you'd left a trail of loss and destruction behind you. Sure, it was fine the Elves were gone but Thor and Jane had abandoned you here, on purpose or not was unclear. Though, the thing that hurt the most was that you had met your soulmate and you had instantly pushed him away, just for him to do the same. Sure, he had hurt you but you turning your back so quickly once you realized had to have hurt him as well and now you were on this barren planet where you'd eventually die of starvation.

You sit up as you let the tears roll down your cheeks, your hand naturally grasping at the floor for any sort of stability. You're shocked when you don't find that though, you lift your hand to your tear filled eyes and look at the dirt filling your palm. You were outside for one of the few times in your life and something about that calmed your tears, they were still present but weren't flowing as freely. You continued to let the feeling of dirt running through your fingers to ground you, you were finally free even if- no don't think about the long slow death awaiting you here just enjoy the fact that you are free that you could stand up right now and take off running without anyone hunting you down. Thats it- thats what you'll do, you'll run for the first time in centuries and just let the wind blow around you. You stand up, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you take a shaky breath, let out an excited laugh and look ahead of you.

Standing in front of you is him, Loki. You hadn't noticed he was there, how much he had seen of you crying on the ground you had no idea but the fact that he was there created a strange sensation in your chest. "I- Loki I didn't-"

Once again he cuts you off but this time it's much gentler, "no, I need to apologize. I've been captivated by you since the moment I first laid eyes on you then when we were finally able to speak I lashed out with childish games, Wraith-"

It's your turn to cut him off, "my name isn't actually Wraith, it's y/n," you pause and decide to extend an olive branch of your own, "you can just call me y/n."

"Y/n," he says thoughtfully, letting the name flow off of his silver tongue, and once again that strange tightening sensation strikes your chest. "That is a lovely name, y/n," he concludes.

You bite on the tip of your tongue as you look at him for a moment, "I need to apologize as well. I walked away from you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. I know we are little more than strangers and you calling my trustworthiness into question is only logical."

He seems a bit taken aback by your honesty but he smoothly take your hand in his, lifting your sleeve once more to look at your soul mark. "Would you be willing to give me a second chance to make up for my mistake? I have a feeling we are both broken and bruised, similar yet different with much to learn."

You cant stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. You take your hand back from his and take ahold of his right arm, taking your turn to lift his armored sleeve and view the words written there in gold, "I know you Loki," you read them out loud then meet his eyes once more, "I'd be happy to give you a second chance as you call it, as long as you are willing to give me one as well."

The relief behind his eyes is clear to you, but what isn't clear is why he cups your cheeks in his hands. He gently wipes away any remaining tears on your face, "of course I will give you a second chance," he states it gently, but firmly and once again your chest tightens. It was then that he made his intentions with his hands on your cheeks clear, as he used them to pull you into a cautious kiss, that becomes more sure when you return it.

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orionwhispers · 4 years

Text

Tear In My Heart // Alfie Solomons

(A/N - hehe im back. im working on a bucky oneshot and a tommy series but both of them are super long and i wanted to take a little breather. this was supposed to be a drabble but you know me... ive got a few more ideas for shorter imagines like this with tommy and alf, requests are open! hope you enjoy. pls reblog and comment. love u see u soon xoxxo - also this is like the smuttiest thing ive written even though its not explicit but wow who am i)

warnings: violence, mention of fights and blood, protective alfie, heavily implied smut, lots of terrible language.

You knew something was wrong when Ollie practically crashed through the door. He took off part of the frame and made the hinges tear from the wood, nails and screws clattering onto the ground. The afternoon had been wonderful, perhaps too wonderful, and as always, real life found a way to shatter your rose tinted glasses.

It was starting to fall into autumn, the air chilly but comfortable, the streets slick with rain and the leaves turning into a sweet, buttery caramel all around you. The house was silent save for the birds singing in the trees and the rattling whip of the wind against your windows. The quiet was a perk of having house out in the country, far away from anything and anyone. Just the way he liked it.

Because to him, all he needed was his girl.

Well, and his dog.

The sun had barely risen when you got up - much to your husbands protests. You felt him stirring from beside you, a solid wall of warmth as he snaked his arms around your waist and pressed sleepy, half drunk kisses onto your spine. You laughed tiredly as his hands curled over everything they could reach, long calloused fingers roaming against your bare skin. He grumbled as you swung your legs from under the duvet and onto the floor, throwing on his white cotton shirt and letting it fall to your knees, trying to ignore the threats he was mumbling about what he was going to do to your boss for making you come in so early.

He made one last feeble attempt to grab you, exhaustion clouding his brain so he could do no more than swipe at the top of your thigh, making you laugh at his wandering hands.

“Stay.” He said, voice raspy and muffled by his pillow.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Alf.” You sighed playfully, grabbing your strawberry slip dress and beaded heels and fur coat, darting into the bathroom to wash up and change. Through the noise of the running water you could hear the bed springs creak as he shifted, the entire frame groaning almost as much as him. Cyril watched you with his big chestnut eyes from the doorway as you fluffed up your hair and patted on coffee coloured lipstick, pinching the apples of your cheeks for a little flush.

You rummaged through your handbag as you made your way to the bedroom door, lost in your thoughts until you heard him speak, all low and gravelly and sending shivers up your spine.

“Oi. C’mere you.”

You rolled your eyes but walked into his outstretched arms, his body completely slumped and covered in thick duvets and pillows, just his tattooed skin and coarse, tousled hair poking out from underneath. He pulled you close into him, smelling like green apples and rum and sex and sea salt, like home. He mumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out, the sun starting to shine through the cracks in the curtains and as you started to get up he tugged you in tighter, placing messy, sloppy kisses down your throat and onto your collarbones.

You smacked his shoulder, grabbing his jaw and holding it still, placing a kiss on his lips, feeling him smile against your mouth.

“Bye, my love.”

“Hmph.”

You made it halfway down the hall before you heard: “Fred is driving you. Don’t even bloody think about walking alone at this time.” Followed by grunts and groans and finally deep, throaty snores.

———————————————————-

You accompanied your boss to a few meetings, taking notes and helping him check stock. After a few hours filled with cinnamon lattes and finger cramps and ink stains, he took you aside at the office and gave you the rest of the day off. You were a little suspicious, and had a feeling his good deed might have had something to do with your slightly intimidating husband, but you accepted it nonetheless and headed to Camden after lunch.

The air was brisk and you pulled your scarf tighter around your throat, dodging puddles and fat droplets of rain as they dropped from the trees. You stopped off at a little cafe on your side of town, buying turkey sandwiches, a garden salad and a platter of seasonal fruit, ignoring the fried sugar donuts and sausage rolls and thick, crispy cuts of bacon. A routine check up to the doctor had lead to Alfie being told that perhaps a healthier lifestyle would benefit some of his ailments, so despite his grumbling and childish ways you were doing your best to make sure he was eating his five a day - no matter how much he protested.

But at the last second you grabbed a cherry jam donut. His favourite.

The rain had become torrential by the time you left, the clouds morphing into a block of ashen, sooty grey, teetering on black. Once upon a time the impending storm would have made you feel nervous, the rattling trees and flashes of lightning had been the reason for many sleepless nights when you were a child, but now you looked forward to it.

Because now it meant something different. You, Alfie and Cyril curled up in bed, the fire roaring and flickering a brilliant orange gold. Your husbands arms tight around you, squeezing softly every time there was a clap of thunder, his kisses warm and protective across your throat, knowing that he’d never let anything hurt you. Drinking tea spiked with rum and playing cards, listening to the rain against the windows, feeling the white burst of lighting every time it struck the sky. Falling asleep next to each other, Alfie always waiting for you to doze off first, unable to sleep unless he knew you were alright.

You had once hated storms, and now you wished for them.

Your umbrella was totally battered by the time you got to the bakery. The bottom of your dress was damp from puddles and your shoes were on their last legs, the satin ruined and black with mud, but you didn’t care, walking through the side entrance with a smile bigger than the moon. A few of the old boys saw you instantly, straightening up and grinning at you, welcoming you with whisky soaked aprons and calloused hands. Back when you and Alfie started dating he had all but forbidden his staff from looking, talking, or even thinking about you, but over the years you had formed a close relationship with his workers - something about your warmth and light easing up the darkness. At first Alfie huffed and puffed about it a little, but he couldn’t exactly blame his men for loving you - he was a perfect example of how you brought a strong man to his knees after all.

“Is he upstairs?” You asked George, one of the distillers. As soon as he nodded you left, your heels clicking against the cool basement flooring. You didn’t bother knocking as you approached the big, intimidating door to his office, instead just grabbing the brass lion head knob and twisting it, hearing the hinges whine in protest.

“What the fuck?” His voice was as deep and rumbling as a low tide, his tone so dark and sharp that it might have scared you, if you didn’t know him as the man who fed the ducks fresh bread at the park and cuddled Cyril when the vets had to give him an injection. “How many fucking times do I have to ask you lot to fucking knock. I mean it’s a - ”

He stopped short when he saw you, eyes going wide and lips twitching upwards just a little. He slipped into business mode whenever he sat at the leather chair behind his desk, but you always managed to chip away at his foundation.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” You laughed, walking around his desk to see him, his legs naturally opening to let you stand in between them, his eyes following every curve and line of your face, settling on the natural rosebud flush of your lips.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He mused, ring clad fingers darting around your waist and pulling you in. He toyed with the buttons on your dress and the jewellery around your neck, his fingers rough and large and as hot as a fire. His day had been shitty so far, but seeing the sparkle in your eyes and the loose curl of your hair had made everything much, much better.

“Hmm.” You said, leaning into his touch, batting away his hand as it slipped somewhere a little too low. “Marcus gave me the afternoon of so I thought I would come and surprise you.”

He blinked up at you, all wistful and love drunk and making your knees turn into blackcurrant jelly. “Did you now?”

“Yep.” You smiled, brushing your nose against his before pulling back and teasingly shaking the paper bag of baked goods in your hand. “And I bought gifts.”

“Yeah. Yeah. In a minute.” He barely registered them, instead dragging you into him, pressing kisses to your lips and letting you wash away any thoughts from his brain, not stopping until he was totally, completely drowning in you.

——————————————————-

That was how you ended up cross legged on the sofa, devouring your new novel and sipping on the rose and oolong tea Alfie kept in the cupboard for when you visited the factory. You could hear the rain pattering down the windows around you, mixed with the scratch of Alfie’s fountain pen and the sound of him rifling through his papers. It was fun to watch him as well as listen to him, the way his eyebrows raised when he read something he didn’t like, the twitch of his nose and the way that he ran his fingers through the coarse hair of his beard, moulding it to a peak at the bottom of his chin.

He watched you as well. When you got so into your book that your brows furrowed and your nose wrinkled. The way your hair was loose and wild, your stockings a soft pink under the stormy sky, your eyes wide and frantic, desperate to read as much as you could. He smiled at the way your leg bounced, how you tried to pick the stems from your strawberries with one hand but then accidentally squished them, the juice running down your wrist. He especially liked the way you were using his winter coat as a blanket, drowning in the fabric like a child, the collar snug around your chin.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You heard Ollie before you saw him, the crash of his laced black boots thundering up the stairs, the way that he collided with the door rather than opening it first. You and Alfie stood up at the same time, his eyes immediately darting to you, gesturing for you to get behind him.

“Eric’s here.” Was all the boy said, and you watched the colour drain from Alfie’s face.

“Eric?” You said, “Eric Martin?”

Your question lingered in the air as the two men walked around one another, gesturing wildly and talking under their breath; Alfie completely frantic and flustered. You had only heard of Alfie’s new business partner in passing, the two of them had spent the better part of a year talking through agreements and shipments and trying to manoeuvre a deal where the two of them could co exist happily - Alfie’s rum and Eric’s stolen goods sharing a boat so that the city checks would be easier. Alfie had never been particularly quite when it came to business. He liked to include you and get your opinion on things, he trusted you most of all anyway, but he had been secretive when it came to Eric.

You had heard through Ollie and rumours at the club and whispers in the factory that this “Eric” was a man not to be trifled with. Apparently he was unpredictable and violent, and he belonged to one of the major crime gangs in Cambridge. None of this scared you though, many people thought the exact same of the man you shared your bed with, and you knew a side of him that nobody else saw. The gossip was barbed and cruel though. They said he was conniving and underhanded, and that his last two wives had been admitted to hospital with broken and fractured bones.

So Alfie tried cutting him out as much as he could, never wanting to say his name or talk about him in the safety of his home, not with you around. Your home was his solace, and he wouldn’t taint his life with you in blood red - you were too important. You never thought much of it, but watching his reaction, his sudden overprotectiveness and stern frown and rattled demeanour, made you just a little bit frightened.

“What the fuck does he want?” Alfie snapped, pulling your coat over your shoulders frantically and starting to button it up, then helping you tug on your boots and lace them.

“He’s pissed about the Brighton shipment, he says his liquor didn’t get there on time.”

“Stupid fucking...” Alfie’s voice trailed off like smoke, something downstairs on the factory floor clattering loudly followed by distinct, angry shouts. “We told him it was too risky with the police there, he should have fucking listened. We were due a meeting next week, tell him to fuck off and come back then.”

“He won’t listen.”

“Make him.”

“I...” He started, but Alfie cut him off again, standing next to you and taking your face in his large, calloused hands.

“Right, pet. Stay here for a little bit, and when it clears up, Ollie will take you out the back, alright?”

“Alfie...” You started to protest, before exhaling and sighing as he turned to his protégée.

“You got that, Ol? Nothing is to happen to her.”

You were getting a little hot with being ordered around, but the visible anxiety swimming across their faces like the midnight sea was enough for you to close your mouth. Instead of agreeing with his boss, Ollie shook his head, sucking on his lower lip as he tried to think of a way to convey the sincerity of the situation.

“He’s really angry, Alfie. You need to go down, now. Before he decides to come up.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Your fingers clenched, and you darted out to tug on the edge of his sleeve before he left.“Alfie. Please be careful.”

There was a smog of anxiety in your stomach and warning signs ringing like alarms in your mind as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his lips brushing your hairline. You chewed on the edge of your lip as he left, and you wondered how your blissful afternoon had turned into this: your body shaking with nerves as your husband descended down the stairs and into the belly of the beast.

Ollie reached out and touched your shoulder, trying to help you feel calm but his face was the colour of tepid dishwater, paling by the second.

“He’ll be fine.”

You crossed all of your fingers and toes.

———————————————————————

About twenty minutes passed, and the shouting had gone from ear piercingly loud to a low hum, which you found oddly comforting despite everything. You watched as Ollie fiddled with his pocket watch, the two of you waiting until it was safe to head downstairs.After a moment you heard the sound of the giant metal door opening, the one right at the front where the workers came in and the bakery goods were delivered, a clear indication from Alfie that Eric was leaving.

Ollie leapt up and smiled faintly at you, edging you towards the door as you swung your handbag across your chest. You scoffed a little as you walked, turning to face him.

“If Eric is gone, why can’t I stay?”

Ollie merely rolled his eyes, his hand migrating to your lower back as he all but pushed you forward. You might have been able to get away with ignoring Alfie’s orders, but he certainly wouldn’t. “You know Alfie won’t want you here after that. There’s no use fighting him about it, he’ll want you back at home.”

You sighed but conceded, allowing yourself to be guided down the staircase. At least at home you could distract yourself and have Cyril with you, his big treacle eyes were the perfect remedy to a bad day.

You were right beside the back door and ready to leave when you heard a voice cracking like thunder from behind you, something as sharp as a knife and as loud as a church bell. You both froze instantly, every nerve in your body feathering, your heart aching to know that Alfie was alright.

“You little fucking liar.” Cut around the room like barbed wire. “How long were you planning on hiding this shipment from me?” There was another crash, and you could hear liquid trickling and dribbling into a puddle, followed by the sweet, sour smell of alcohol.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re on about mate.” It was Alfie speaking now, his voice lowered to a dangerous octave, and you could picture the lightning like anger on his face. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? You’ve been sending things off without my knowledge!”

“I said. Fucking calm down.” The sound of a hand slamming down on wood, as fierce as a slap on the face. “You don’t want to make an enemy of me.”

There was another scuffle: rapid footsteps on the floor, the crack of knuckles and the smell of ash. A couple of the boys darted in from the other room, their shirts untucked and hands turning red. You watched them curiously, stepping forward on unsteady heels to try and pinpoint the commotion. You felt Ollie's hand reach for you but you leapt out of his grasp, at the same time a body flew from the next room and landed in a heap next to barrels of aged rum and whisky, the wood heaving from the strain.

You glanced at the man on the floor, his body oddly contorted, his bald head glistening with sweat and his body reeking of putrid alcohol and cigarettes. This was obviously Eric. Your eyes widened in disgust at the drunk, violent man taking swings at whoever he could, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. You saw Alfie emerge from the shadows, his gaze flitting straight to you, his hands swollen and his face flushed with visible anger at the man sprawled on the ground.

Before you could retreat, Eric’s wide, black eyes landed on you, practically bulging out of his head with adrenaline and anger and excitement. “ You know, Alfie.” He asked through bubbles of saliva, scrambling to his feet as best he could, lunging for you. You saw Alfie and a few of his best men move forward, hands ready like cocked guns to strike if they needed to. Eric ignored them, wanting to pack as many fatal blows in whilst he had the chance. “Everybody at the club talks about your little whore of a wife, Solomon’s.”

The room fell deadly silent. His words didn’t affect you at all, but you felt a pool of dread settle in your gut and you stepped backwards, warning him with your eyes. He was at the back of the room, but you could still feel the anger vibrating from your husband, and you heard him smack his lips as he tried to calm himself down.

Eric ignored your alarmed glare, spitting onto the concrete and looking you up and down with pure disgust and shameless lust. “You know that people only do business with you to get to her?”

“Don’t. You. Fuck - ” Alfie’s boots thundered like a stampede, his voice as dark and raspy as midnight, his words sharpened like butchers knives.

“Maybe I’ll have a go at her. Maybe it’ll teach you a little respect. If I have a go at that smug little whore and slap her around a little and....”

He didn’t finish his sentence, Alfie’s cane smashing against the side of Eric’s head with enough momentum to send his teeth flying, small milky white canines lying a few feet in front of you in a pool of sticky blood. He made some kind of noise from on the floor, his hands coming up to protect what was left of his face, his polished shoes desperately trying to grip onto something to help him up. There was a second hit. And then a third. Each accompanied by ear splitting cries, and the sound of flesh against stone.

“Don’t you ever, ever, speak about my wife like that again.” You could just about make out Alfie from the darkness, his silhouette mighty and terrifying, leaning over the shattered body on the floor, filled with a hatred that seemed to overpower him.

“I - ” Eric tried to speak but only blood pooled from his mouth, his body weakened and damaged from the attack. He tried to cover himself with his hands but failed, another ear piercing crack echoing around the room.

You lunged forward, wanting to stop your husband before he went too far. “Alfie! Stop! You’re going to kill him!”

He blinked up at you, his pupils swallowed by black. His gaze lowered from you onto the wailing man on the ground, his words playing on a loop in his brain, digging their nails in every time the record restarted.

He had said those evil things about you.

He glanced at Ollie, finally opening his mouth to speak. “Take her home.”

You struggled in Ollie’s grip, desperate to see your husband and knock some sense into him. Your heart hung heavy in your chest, equal parts terrified that he would either end up hurt or in a more dangerous situation than the one he was already in. You fought hard but Ollie’s hold was tighter, his fingers squeezing you tightly. He tried to be kind but forceful as he pulled you out into the alley, your heard turned back to face your husband, watching as him and the shadow on the floor faded to a dull, awful, obsidian.

—————————————-

You were certain you were going to make holes in the wood. You had been pacing back and forth the living room floor for almost an hour, and Cyril had abandoned his mission of trying to cheer you up, and instead watched you protectively and cautiously from his wicker basket beside the sofa.

You had chewed your sunshine yellow nails down to the wick, and your heart hadn’t stop thumping since you had left the warehouse. Ollie had left you to your thoughts, keeping watch outside to make sure nothing harmed you, and also that you didn’t harm somebody else.

Dealing with hysterical women wasn’t really his forte.

There had been no word from Alfie since you had left, and so you watched the teal wall phone endlessly, hoping that it would ring and you would know he was alright. You were greeted with nothing but ice cold silence, and so you resumed your pacing, biting down on the skin of your thumb until you could taste blood.

Right before you were about to lose all control and demand Ollie take you to see him, you heard the crunch of the gravel outside, and saw lemon headlights flash against the wall. Cyril’s head lifted quickly, and his tail began to thump, but your feet turned to concerted and you were unable to do anything other than wait.

You were as still as a spectre as you stood facing the door, your body prickling with anxiety and adrenaline. A car - you assumed Ollie’s - coughed and spluttered over the rocks and into the road, leaving you alone with Alfie. You heard the key in the lock, practically felt the metal ridges running over your spine as he pulled and twisted and finally came inside, the sky a gloomy, smoky grey, rain falling so harshly it was almost hail.

He was shaped so strongly, his figure so barbed and brawny and beautiful. You felt totally mortal beside a man like him, and he looked even more so like a God when you saw him under the icy white lamp light in the hall.

He was covered in blood. Soaked in it, really. It was matted in his hair and in ugly brown splotches across his once pristine shirt and under his fingernails and smeared across his boots in a shade of red you had never seen before. It was obvious he had tried to clean himself up judging from the uneven patches and water marks, but he had given up, deciding to risk everything and drive through the streets like an abattoir worker, just so he could see you as quickly as he could.

You let out some kind of noise and stepped forward, he caught you effortlessly, the way that he always would.

“Alfie.” You said, wide eyed and innocent and good, and he felt like a sinner holding something so angelic in his arms.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.”

There was blood in his beard, and a plum sided bruise turning nightshade on his upper arm. “Oh God, Alf.”

He shook his head, pulling you in and smelling the orange and cinnamon of your shampoo and the vanilla perfume on your neck and felt the softness of your hair and the curves of your body. The day had been bad. It had started so wonderfully and ended up shattered and splintered into something so awful and malevolent, and now there was nothing he wanted except you, his home.

“We need to - ” You started, but he frowned, his arms engulfing you and tugging you in. He pressed his lips to whatever flesh he could find, open mouthed and desperate, sucking and biting and aching for you.

“No. No.” He whispered into your neck, his voice so small and desperate that your heart throbbed. “I need you, my love.”

You knew what he wanted. How we got when he was like this. Touch starved. Greedy. Insatiable. How he wanted nothing else but the feel of you under him, the weight of your ribs and the feel of your body and love consuming him until nothing was left. Fuck his back and his cane, he needed to claim you and mark you and show you just how badly he needed you. He needed to find religion at the alter of your pliant, yearning body. Show you how much he loved you on the cold kitchen tiles with the rain casting grey shadows and his lips biting your own as the thunder clapped above.

————————-

The tap was still leaking.

Alfie had promised to fix it weeks ago and yet it still dribbled lukewarm water continuously, you didn’t mind for once though, the soft noise it made as it bounced into the water was somewhat calming.

His legs around you were as thick as tree trunks and covered in curly, coarse hair. His arms were tight around you, and you played with the jewels on his fingers as you both relaxed, letting the hot steam cover you both. You were cradled in front of him despite your instance that his back would hurt and it would cause more harm than good. He simply got in the water and dragged you on top of him, letting the pink bath salts do their job.

You hadn’t really spoken since you’d made love like teenagers on the kitchen floor. Afterwards, he tugged you on top of him and held you close, the two of you skin to skin, letting your pulses synch and breathing calm all whilst he stayed warm and throbbing inside of you. Needing to be joined with you for as long as he could.

Then you ran a bath and filled it with all of the expensive lotions and potions you had stockpiled. Cherry and rose and sweet mint and chocolate and lime, things that might have clashed but would easily cover the smell of sweat and sex and thick, coppery blood. The two of you sat in the water, not speaking but filled with love, despite all of the unspoken tension in the air.

You felt him shift behind you. His huge body sent water and bubbles lapping wildly over the tub edge, coating the floor in marshmallow pink. You giggled softly, and the sweet, angelic noise gave Alfie the final push to tell you everything.

“I know what you want to ask me.”

“Hmm?” You murmured, letting round, iridescent bubbles fall through the cracks in your fingers, knowing exactly what he was about to say but feigning innocence anyway.

“You want to know if I killed him.”

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to, he continued anyway.

“I did.”

The bathroom fell silent again and Alfie could feel you stiffen under him. You knew from the moment he swung his cane across Eric’s head that he would be buried six feet by the end of the day, but it still hit you like a punch to the windpipe to hear the words aloud.

“Does that bother you?” He asked after a moment, the words thick and raspy, as though they had been stuck in his throat like congealed honey.

“I’m not sure.” You said finally.

It was the truth. You weren’t sure.

You knew he had killed people before. You knew what the war had made him do, what it had turned him into. You weren’t stupid, either. You knew that he often came home with dirt under his nails and blood splattered on his boots and that glazed look in his eyes that made your stomach tie itself in knots. You knew because you had been there through it all, cleaning him up and disinfecting his wounds, talking him down when the memories of gunshots and trenches got too loud, listening to him tell you all of the secrets that lingered in his mind like flies around a carcass.

But if you were being honest, you didn’t care that he had killed. You never judged Alfie or his choices, you understood the way his brain worked and how he made his decisions. Most of the men had been awful. Abusers and violent thieves and con men with dirty intentions. This was the business you had signed up for when you fell for the six foot man with questionable morals but a heart of solid gold. There was no way you were turning your back on him now.

It wasn’t murder that scared you, it was the possible repercussions that led you to sleepless nights and bloody, bitten lips. You were terrified that one day everything would catch up to him, and it would be your husband that ended up in a coffin. He was so powerful and dangerous and magnificent, but he wasn’t invincible.

You were about to say as much but he continued, the water sloshing around the two of you. “Don’t let it bother you. I’d do it again. Kill a fucking million men if I had to. If anyone talks about you like that - if they even think it. They’re gone. Bloody scum. The lot of ‘em.”

You sighed, shifting up and grabbing his hand under the water. You rubbed circles across his palm, conveying your love through actions. “I don’t want to be the reason you have blood on your hands.”

“I’m a big lad right, I can make my own decisions.”

“I know you are Alf, but you know how I worry.”

“Listen to me, right.” He muttered, the candles flickering clementine, his fingertips pressing gently onto the bare flesh of your hip. He cleared his throat, feeling the rise and fall of your chest against his belly. “After the war I had nothing - and then I met you and fuck me you changed everything.”

He paused, reminiscing internally about how you met and your early dates, thinking of toffee kisses and giddy, pure love and fucking in back alleys and winter walks and finally feeling something after the war had shot everything right out of him. “And you are my wife. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

You tugged on his big toe, making him wince and playfully hit you, the air lightened just a little bit, but enough so that the two of you could breathe. “I don’t care that you killed them, Alf. I never have. But God, if something were to happen to you! What if the police start looking? What if...”

A million fucked up scenarios of your beloved in silver cuffs and a bullet in his head made you feel completely nauseous, but he held you tight, grounding you back to reality.

“I’m not going anywhere. And for the cops - they should be thanking me. Got rid of a lot of nasty criminals without them getting their hands dirty.” He pressed kisses to the back of your neck, the tip of your spine, the crook of your ear. “I promise you, my love, everything will be alright.”

The future was uncertain, but you knew that when you married him. Some days were just bad.

Clouded in darkness and tinged with blood and rust. Your relationship had always been a little unconventional, a little rough around the edges and at times, like a small wooden boat on a rough sea. But despite everything your love had been unwavering, as solid as a steel, the kind of dreamy infatuation that people longed for. For every bad day and every fight and every knot that wound itself in your belly - there was also so much good. Sleepy kisses and pillow talk and sharing the parts of yourself that no one else saw. A language without words, the safety of his arms, the home in your hips, domestic mornings and a love that could last through anything.And in that moment, with the storm starting to ease and the sky starting to lighten and his arms around you and Cyril starting to whine for his dinner downstairs...

It was enough.

Because you weren’t just the girl he would kill for. You were the girl he would live for.

#alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons headcanon #alfie solomons oneshot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons x reader #writing #alfie solomons hc

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flutterji · 3 years

Text

anything| renjun ff

hi! this is my first ff on tumblr so hopefully it all works out well. hope u enjoy!

desc: y/n and renjun have only been friends for about a month, but renjun was in too deep. whipped renjun, gender not specified reader!! semi drabble, high school au (like all my stories hhh), very fluffy ! barely edited, its a bit long too but whatever

word count: 2103

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y/n and jisung briskly walked the halls of their oh-so-dreadful high school, talking about, of course, absolute nonsense. ‘i mean, like, salamanders are so cute, right?’ y/n questions the tall boy, and jisung nods enthusiastically. “right! so then why would they eat each other?” jisung added. “as babies, too! it doesn make se-” cut off from their sentence, renjun snaked his arms around the both of them before yelling, “hey guys!” “renjunie!” y/n exclaims, and a wide smile paints renjun’s lips. “whats up shawty?” jisung says before making The Fuckboy Face™. “eh, not much, just absolutely dreading and stressing beyond human compacity about the calc exam tomorrow.” renjun says, pulling his arms away and shoving himself in between the two. “maybe we can study? i- honestly i wont be any help, but i have some pretty cool notes i could share?” y/n proposes. “sure, when?” renjun says, without skipping a beat. jisung looks at the two and then looks away in disgust. “you oldies.” he says, before sticking out his tongue in a teasing manner. “whatever, loser!” y/n says, emphasizing the ‘loser’. jisung pretends to cry and is all but payed attention to when renjun bothers y/n for an answer. ‘we cant study if you dont tell me when!” “well if the exam’s tomorrow then obviously we study today! what are you, an idiot?” y/n says, lightly teasing the poor boy. “right, but like, when today?” “you annoy me.” y/n responds without really responding, traveling away to meet their other friend group. “haha, y/n hates you!” jisung says. renjun then nudges jisung not-so-gently before sighing. “i dont get it. i would do anything for them and they just brush me off like im... i dont know, what am i?” he asks, confused. “an idiot. a complete idiot.”

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as soon as school ends, renjun sends y/n a text. ‘library?’ is all he says, and y/n answers quickly. ‘get here quickly pls,,, i dont wanna waste time” y/n sends back shortly after. renjun walks to their schools library, and sees his study mate. “hey jun, hurry up before i start growing grey hairs.” y/n whisper yells from one of the tables. he had taken longer than he wanted to, so he rushed to the table and scurried to get out his notebook and a pencil. ‘right, so, show me your notes.” y/n says, half distracted by the drawing they were creating in the corner of a scrap piece of paper. renjun opens his note book, revealing his subpar notes. “dude, what-- how much time do you spend actually taking notes?” y/n asks before revealing their organized notes that definitely weren’t the best, but better than renjun’s. “i look out the window more than i pay attention, ha...” renjun admits with a sheepish smile. “sure, just read my notes and copy whatever you need.” y/n says nonchalantly. “thank you so much, you’re a life saver, y/n!” renjun exclaims. “of course i am, i’m me.” y/n says unexpectedly, before ‘posing’ and rolling their eyes.

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after some time had passed, renjun had gotten distracted. “junie, can i tell you something?” y/n asked, looking at renjun’s renovated notes. “sure, whats up?” renjun responds while flipping his pencil between his fingers. “there’s this girl that likes me, but i don’t like her back. it’s kinda so awkward, but i don’t want it to be. ugh, its so frustrating!” y/n whines as they drum their fingers against the table. “oh? who is it? can i know?” renjun immediately asks. “she told me tot to tell anyone. so i’m kinda already not listening, but as long as i don’t tell you her name that should be fine, right?” renjun whines and begins asking more questions. “is she nice? do i know her? when-” “shut up.” y/n cuts him off and runs their temples. “she’s... its not like she’s not nice, and you don’t know her, okay? ugh, i shouldn’t have even tried telling you about my love life.” y/n grumbles. “love life?” renjun asks. “maybe you could repay me by telling me something.” y/n offers, a smirk growing on their face. renjun tries hard not to blush and looks away quickly. “there’s, uh, nothing to talk about, ha.” he explains half heartedly. “sure there is! maybe not recent, but tell me something at least a little interesting.” y/n persuades. “uh, well, last year i made friends with this... person, and i liked them. they, uh, they moved away. yea.” renjun cant help but blush as he struggles to find literally anything else to do. “yea, sure.” y/n takes note of his blush and can’t help but wonder if he’s lying.

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y/n begins packing up and renjun looks at them in confusion. “you have to go?” he asks, trying to hide his disappointment. “yea, im sorry. you got everything you needed, right?” y/n responds. y/n has a knack for ignoring renjun, the way he blushes, the way he often looks at them with wide eyes, the way he looks around aimlessly when he thinks, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, the way he bends his knees when he screams into the air when he’s frustrated or flustered, and... maybe they didn’t ignore renjun. maybe they didnt ignore him at all. “yea, thank you so much!” and he smiles the cutest smile and starts packing up his things as well. “you have a ride home? i’m taking the bus.” y/n asks. “i’m taking the bus too! maybe we should get a snack for the ride?” “YES.” y/n answers right away. renjun laughs and throws back his head, just like how y/n was just thinking about. a small smile creeps up y/n’s face and a boldness takes over. “you’re adorable, you know that?” y/n asks, swinging their backpack over their shoulder. renjun blushes, and hard. his heart races and he struggles to come up with a reply as his hand thoughtlessly covers his smile. “adorable, ha.” he says quietly. y/n internally yells and waits for him. “yea. so what type of snack do you want?”

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on the bus with chip bags on their laps, the silence is almost comforting, right before it’s not. the bus stops to let in more people, and renjun looks at y/n. y/n pops more chips in their mouth before looking back, and renjun swiftly looks away. they’re sitting next to each other, and renjun has never been that close to y/n. he starts noticing their more delicate features up close and feels his chest tightening. after y/n swallows the chips, they look at renjun’s hand, a single ring on his pointer finger. mindlessly, they pick it up to examine the ring. renjun’s heart starts beating louder at the contact, and he looks out the window without knowing what else to do. “pretty ring.” y/n says. “thank you, chenle gave it to me.” he says, smiling shyly. “so you’re married?” y/n says, a single brow raised. renjun takes back his hand and and looks at his ring. “its not like that! besides, i dont like him.” he says. “do you like someone else then?” “maybe.” renjun mutters so quietly that he can barely hear himself. “HA! I KNEW IT!” y/n celebrates their small victory and renjun looks back towards the window with a stupid smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks.

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once renjun reaches his stop, he stands up. “this you?” y/n asks. “yea, bye!” he says, almost sadly walking in front of y/n to get out of the aisle. “no, not bye, lemme walk with you the rest of the way.” y/n says and gets up, walking out and away from the bus shortly after. renjun smiles to himself and walks towards his street, leading the way. “so... who is it?” y/n asks. renjun blushes and covers his face. “i can’t tell you that!” he says. “why not? huh? i’ll tell you mine.” y/n says. “yoU HAVE A CRUSH?” renjun practically screams. “yea, it’s not a big deal.” y/n says, right before pulling two lollipops out of their pocket and handing one to renjun. “fine, but, please don’t hate me.” renjun pleads, putting the wrapper into his pocket. “i promise i wont hate you. who is it?” “well, we only started being friends recently, but they’re just so.. i don’t know. and i’ve told jisung this, but i would do anything for them.” he says, trying hard not to stutter and even harder to not get a heart attack. y/n puts the lollipop in their mouth, and renjun follows. “anything?” y/n asks playfully. “yea, pretty much. i don’t even know why i like them so much, they act like... i don’t know, they kind of ignore me.” y/n secretly wondered what type of human would be able to ignore someone as nice and as attractive as renjun. “ignore you? it’s hard to do that with how whiny you are.” y/n laughs and renjun whines. “see, i told you!” y/n says and smiles around their lollipop. “anyways, do i know them?” y/n asks shortly after. “yea, kinda... hah, all of a sudden i dont really wanna talk about it anymore, so, bye?” renjun forces his hands into his pockets. was he really ready to confess? “fine, i’ll tell you about mine then. he’s really charming in his own way, and i just realized that i liked him recently. we also haven’t been friends for long, ha. i don’t know why, there’s just something about him, his cute little habits are so endearing to me. ew, i sound gross.” y/n pretends to vomit, and renjun sighs lowly. “you really do like him, huh?” he asks, defeated. “yea, i guess i really do.” y/n smiles to themselves and nudges renjun.

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renjun kicks at a rock before stopping in front of a house. “well, this is my house, so...” “right.” y/n nods and presses their lips together. “hey, could you do me a favor?” y/n asks, right before renjun goes to walk up to the door. “sure, anything you want?” “anything?” y/n asks with a smile on their face. renjun lightly blushes, before saying quietly, “yea, anything.” he sends a small smile and y/n can’t help but walk closer to the boy. renjun’s heart starts pounding inside his chest. did he just confess? y/n reaches out to him and gives him a hug. renjun frantically tries placing his hands on y/n’s back multiple times before finally resting them in one spot, placing his head in the crook of their neck. to him, it felt like they fit together perfectly. a giant smile paints his lips and y/n starts retracting their arms. ‘it’s you, renjun.” y/n faulters with their words. renjun’s eyes go wide and his lips part to let in air. he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “me. i am? it’s… what? he says, absolutely speechless. “you’re the guy i was talking about earlier. not that it matters.” y/n shrugs, trying to hide the fact that their heart was absolutely racing. “it does, uh, to me, because, you’re the person i was talking about earlier too, so…” he hides his face with his hand and looks away. ‘you think i ignore you?’ y/n says, surprised. ‘uh, a little bit…” he admits, shyly. he felt like he was going to explode, he was so flustered. “sorry, i’ll try to pay more attention to you?” y/n offers, paired with a crooked smile. renjun bends his knees and screams into the air, making y/n smile and laugh shortly after. “sorry, and, yea, that would be nice.” y/n hesitates before stepping forward and planting a quick kiss on renjun’s cheek, sending the poor love-struck boy’s heart to heaven and hell at the same time. a wide goofy smile is shared between the both of them. “ill text you?” y/n offers, hands trying to find a place to stop before finally landing in their pockets. “yes, great! i mean, uh, cool. very cool.” renjuns fails to hide his excitement as he practically floats on air and lets out a sigh, shooting y/n a thumbs up. “very cool, yes.” y/n laughs and finally leaves the boy to go inside, and he automatically starts jumping in a circle and clapping out of happiness.

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the end!

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