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kiibo-is-flustered · 2 years

Text

Head Over Heels

This came to me in a wave of heavily homosexual thoughts so I hope you enjoy

Characters: Steve / Eddie

Warnings: drug use cause who can go wrong with a little weed amiright

Summary: Eddie and Steve attempt to cook together and cute kitchen activities ensue

————

“How much flour do we use?” Eddie asked, stirring away at their mixture of sugar, eggs, and baking powder thus far.

“It says three cups, dumbass.”

“Well sorry I wasn’t looking at the book while I was mixing in the other ingredients.” Eddie let go of the spoon, the wood clanking against the metal of the bowl. He turned around to stare at his companion in annoyance. Steve looked like he couldn’t give a single shit. His forearms were deep inside a bag of flour, scooping the last remaining bits into a cup.

He handed Eddie the first cup without even looking up at him. Eddie, however, couldn’t stop staring. Steve was focused on watching Eddie pour in the flower to make sure he didn’t spill. Eddie admired the concentration in the others face. When Steve handed him back a second cup, he noticed it wasn’t filled all of the way.

“This is only half a cup, dipshit.”

“You think I don’t have eyes, asshole? We’re out.”

We.

Somehow the inclusion of both of them in Steve’s words made Eddie feel like bugs were crawling around in his stomach. It wasn’t ‘you’re out’ or ‘it’s out’ but ‘we’re out.’ That one word made all the difference and now Eddie was frozen, completely zoned out staring at Steve’s face.

Steve snapped. “Hello? Earth to Munson. We’re out of flour, what do you want to do?” Eddie came back to the present, quick with an idea.

“I mean, I always have another kind of flower we could use.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and gave Steve his signature, big, dorky grin. Their faces were already so close that it would’ve been much too hard for Steve to attempt at hiding any of his nervousness. His eyes instinctively flicked down to Eddie’s lips. They were pulled into a smile, his teeth nearly perfect despite never having braces, a small chip on a tooth in the bottom row and his lips surprisingly smooth for someone who he didn’t presume to own any chapstick. Now it was Steve’s turn to zone out on Eddie’s.

“Harrington?”

Steve startled but he quickly recovered.

“Munson!” He dramatized with a gasp and a hand on his chest.

Eddie raised his eyebrows even higher and dipped his head down, staring up at Steve.

“We haven’t put the butter in yet.” His smile managed to grow even bigger. Steve faked a sigh.

“Is it going to mess up the cake?”

“I don’t know but it’s already fucked ‘cause we don’t have enough flower.”

“Whatever you say.”

Eddie smiled and reached into a cupboard below the sink, grabbing a scale and a bag of weed. Steve watched as Eddie weighed it out, melted the butter, and added it into a pan. Eddies tongue rested on his top lip while he fidgeted with the heat on the pan. He always stuck his tongue out when he concentrated and Steve loved it. Not that he’d ever tell him though.

“Wait, I need to put on music. Will you stir this, love?” The name slipped out but Eddie didn’t seem to notice. Steve was stunned for a moment but blinked out of it.

“Uhm, yeah.”

Eddies face softened. “Something up?”

He used pet names on everybody, why did Steve think this was anything special?

“Just lost in thought. Go get your stuff.” He waved him off and Eddie hurried to his room.

When he returned he had a cassette radio and a tape to go along with it. He set it down on the counter and went to go check on his butter. Steve walked over and picked up the tape. It read, ‘Harrington Hymns’

“Hey, Ed, what’s this tape for?”

Eddie turned and walked towards Steve, taking the tape out of his hands.

“It’s just an old mix. I didn’t look at what it was when I grabbed it.” He smiled and put it in the radio.

“Yeah but it said-“

“Shh, Sweetheart,” Steve sucked in his breath at the name, “dance with me.” Eddie stepped in, closing the space between them. He wrapped both arms around Steve’s lower back and started swaying him back and forth. The first song started playing; Head Over Heels, Tears For Fears.

“I don’t dance, Eddie.”

“Everyone dances, Harrington. You just need to believe in yourself.”

“Yeah, and I believe I don’t dance.”

Eddie cocked his head. “Just try.”

“I’m trying not to embarrass myself.” Steve tried to push Eddie away but his hold was strong. He moved his hands from around Steve’s back and placed them on his hips, shifting them left and right.

“C’mon, big boy, you’ve just gotta-“ Eddie’s tone was teasing but it was interrupted by an onslaught of giggles.

“Hehey.” Steve swatted at his hands. He was pulling back as far as he could which gave Eddie a full view of his face. He was looking down, cheeks pink and smile wide. When Eddie started to squeeze more deliberately, he noticed Steve’s struggle became more frantic.

“Do my ears deceive me or is the Steve Harrington giggling?” Steve bit his lip in hopes of containing his laughter but it was useless. He latched his hands around Eddie’s wrists and pulled him off.

Unfortunately for Eddie, Steve was significantly stronger than him.

Not nearly as fast though.

Eddie quickly wrapped his arms back around Steve, kneading into his sides and continuing to sway him.

“Look, Harrington, you’re doing it! I told you everyone dances.” Steve’s stamina to tickles was embarrassingly short considering how many times he was able to fight off demons. His face was red, partly from his blush, but mostly from his lack of oxygen.

“Okahahay! Ed! I giHIVE!” His words came out as more of a shriek than anything else. Eddie might’ve been rumored to be a demon but he was no monster so he stopped his assault and rubbed Steve’s back.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it, pretty boy?” Eddie smirked down at Steve who’s panting was slowing down. “I hate you.”

“Awe, I doubt that.” Eddie punctuated his tease by clawing at the back of Steve’s ribs. Steve fell forwards into Eddie, burying his head into his neck as he laughed. The movement and heat of his breath against his skin made Eddie cringe and smile, not that Steve could see it. But he could definitely feel Eddie tense up under him when he put his lips on his neck.

Steve’s next moves were decided and acted on quickly.

He wrapped one arm around Eddie’s waist and brought the other up to cup the back of his head, tilting it to expose more of his skin.

Eddie’s knees gave out from under him and he whined out an ‘ahasshole’ as Steve gave an onslaught of raspberries to his neck. Steve held him up with his arm but with his struggling, it was getting harder. He backed him up against the counter and pressed his hips against him so that he couldn’t move. He used his hand to start pinching at Eddie’s side.

“Steheve!” A muffled ‘hmph?’ into his neck was Steve’s response, which only made him laugh more.

“Nohot fahahair!”

“What do you mean ‘not fair’?” He used both of his hands to dig into Eddie’s hips. “You tickled me much longer than this.”

Eddie had no response. All he could do was cackle while Steve climbed his fingers up and down the length of his sides. To Steve’s surprise, Eddie wasn’t fighting back. He was just taking it. He was definitely going to tease him about that later.

Their fight came to a short end when they heard a loud pop come from behind them. The butter was boiling and had begun to sizzle over the side of the pan. Steve dropped Eddie to the floor and rushed over to turn the heat down.

“Ow.” Eddie exhaled before his back hit the cabinets behind him.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to let your trailer burn down?”

“You cohould’ve at least warned me fihirst.”

Steve’s annoyance faded when he saw Eddie’s face. His eyes were shut, head leaning back and a wide, open smile was plastered on his face. He let out a few residual titters but he eventually caught his breath and opened his eyes. “Thanks.”

Steve paused. “Thanks for?”

Eddie tilted his head. “The stove? Thanks for turning it down. What else did you think?”

Steve reddened. “Nothing. Just get up.” He held a hand out to the boy on the floor who took it graciously. They shared a glance when Eddie got to his feet but both were fast to look away.

“So, uhm, how long does that have to cook for?”

They both looked at the pan.

“Oh, three hours.”

It was going to be a long three hours.

————

Any takers for a part 2 where Eddie gets his shit wrecked? Yes? No?

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jjungkookislife · 2 years

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Shadow [Ch. 3]

pairing: villain!jungkook x sidekick!reader

genre: villain au, crack

summary: Villains have to go grocery shopping too!

wc: 921

warnings: cursing, named reader (Shadow is her alias), we meet reader’s ex, allusion to shop lifting (she doesn’t tho)

date: February 11, 2022

Two weeks later, you’re pushing a shopping cart through the aisles of your local grocery store. Jungkook walks behind you, clunky boots stomping as he goes.

“Shadow, it’s been weeks since we did anything diabolical. I’m getting antsy here.” Jungkook complains.

“The plan is in motion, okay? Besides, you’re the one who got fifteen extra mouths to feed, remember? Our little penguin buddies take up a lot of my time.” You shake your head as you go down another aisle, your handwritten shopping list crumpled in your hand.

“Hey! They help out!” Jungkook huffs, shoving his hands in the oversized hoodie he’s worn today. His pretty inky locks are covered under a black baseball cap and he looks delicious.

“Jungkook, no they don’t. We should really send them back before we put our plan into action. We won’t have room for them in the new hideout,” you explain. Jungkook pouts, his penguins.

It’s not until you turn into the cereal aisle that he perks up again. He grabs a box of Lucky Charms and you swipe it from his hands.

“No!”

“But it’s so good!” Jungkook whines, stomping his foot like a petulant child. This was the man who was gonna rule the world? Cute.

“It tastes disgusting. The marshmallows are hard and chewy. They taste like cardboard. How can you eat this?” Your face sours at the box before you’re putting it back on the shelf.

“Take the marshmallows out,” Jungkook suggests but you shake your head.

“Then it’s just a bowl of sad-tasting cereal,” you say as you walk forward, grabbing your favorite cereal off the shelf. Jungkook sighs, following after you as he wraps his arms around your waist, making it hard for you to push the shopping cart.

“Kook,” you whisper, and you feel him hum in response as he slowly unravels himself from you.

“Go get your cereal,” you roll your eyes as you hear his boots stomp his way to the cereal before tossing two boxes in the cart. You scoff, leave it to him to grab more than what you said.

You’re humming to yourself when you get a video call on your phone. You answer it, pushing the cart without looking in front of you. Jungkook’s walked away, getting lost in the store and you know damn well his phone is on silent, so you’ll have to have a cashier page him over the intercom when you leave.

You sigh, answering the video call from ‘Penguin Pal’, who surprisingly took to technology really well. He even managed to print double-sided pages after one try. Hmm, maybe he should take over the world instead?

“Hello, P. What’s up?” you ask as you grab something off the shelf, looking down at your phone.

Penguin Pal is standing in front of the whiteboard, his penguin buddies surround him as he points to a picture of a fish.

“We’re getting fish in just a moment, P. I promise,” you say as you turn the corner of the aisle, gasping when you crash into another cart with your own.

“Fuck,” you curse, hanging up the call and looking up. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

The person you hit looks up, biting their bottom lip.

“It’s fine,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. You groan internally, realizing you’ve bumped into your ex.

You wish you could say things ended well, but being the sidekick of a villain when your ex is a superhero… yeah, kinda awkward.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you. Bye, Namjoon!” you back up, going around him and he stops to turn to look at you. “Wait, you are paying for that, right? Right?!”

“Bye!”

Back in the lair, you’re having one last look around to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. It’ll probably be a few months before you can come back and you’ve left a very precise feeding schedule for your pet sitter on how and when to feed Pete and Fred.

“Come on,” you urge Jungkook as you rip everything off the whiteboard and stuff it into a bag. You’ve swiped all the hard drives clean and taken anything you may need with you.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” Jungkook frowns when he looks around. He knows it’s the first place they’d look for the two of you though. You’ve managed to lay low these past few weeks, which hasn’t made you quite suspicious to the heroes but it was only a matter of time before someone showed up at your door to ask what you were planning.

“We’ll be back, Dr. J,” you assure him as you wrap your arms around his slim waist, your chin resting on his shoulder.

“I know but this is our first home,” his melancholy tone makes you tear up. You sniffle once before he’s turning to face you, his hand cupping your face.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispers as he wipes the few stray tears away.

You sniffle again, clearing your throat as you look at him. “I’m supposed to be telling you that.”

Jungkook laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead but bumps you with his cap. You pout, taking it off his head before you’re pressing your lips to his.

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second, his arms circling around your waist as yours wrap around his neck. He holds you close, teeth gently tugging on your bottom lip before he’s releasing you reluctantly.

With his forehead pressed to yours and his hands cradling your face delicately, he whispers, “I love you.”

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

<< previous // next >>

#btshoneyhive #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader insert #villain!jungkook

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

hello i love your work!! can you do a part 2 to worth our time? :”) maybe wherein carol is actually getting soft for the reader and wants to be together but the reader is hesitant bc of carol being known as a player? maybe some jealous carol as well? 😳😳

Soft!jock!Carol is a god tier idea and I really hope I did it justice

Shout out to @wlwmarvelenthusiast for helping me with my technical difficulties

Part 1

7.5k words

Warnings: oral, praise and double ended dildo use

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Why are you ignoring Carol?" Wanda asked with a frown as you sped out of the school car park a little too hastily. She narrowed her eyes at you, ready to read into every expression that flickered across your face.

"I'm not ignoring her, I'm avoiding her. It's different." You insisted as you kept your eyes on the road in front of you, determined to leave the school grounds before a certain blonde left the building and got into her own car.

"It's exactly the same thing just in a different font." Wanda stated as she continued to watch you.

"It's not. And anyway, I'm not obligated to talk to her." You said quieter, not finding enough confidence in your words. Of course you weren't obligated to talk to Carol, but you missed it - more than you would admit to yourself.

"I know, I thought you liked her though. You said your date went well with her but since then you run out of every room she enters."

"It wasn't really a date." You muttered as took a left and eyed your mirror.

"Y/n." Wanda laughed. "I think I know a date when it's described to me."

"But it's Carol, Wanda. Carol doesn't do dates." You insisted as you tried your hardest to avoid your friend's gaze again. You didn't want her to see the pain in your eyes.

"She did with you."

"She went down on me-"

"Yes, I remember that catch up conversation." Wanda chuckled and you threw an empty sweet packet you had left in the car at her.

"And I'm not complaining about that. It's just... you know I'm not one to judge people by rumors, but Carol seems like a pretty strict 'hookups only' type of gal. Every time me and Carol are alone together we end up fucking and again, I'm not complaining about that, but it's enough to tell me she doesn't want anything more from me. Not even fuck buddies, because she doesn't commit to girls." You breathed out deeply as you parked up outside yours and Wanda's favourite coffee shop, suddenly not able to tell if you weren't in the mood for your hot chocolate or in desperate need of one.

"I think there might be a little more to it than that." Wanda said after a moment. She knew where you were coming from but she also couldn't deny the fidgety nature and anxious look in the blonde's eyes a few days prior.

"She called it a date last time you were together, she hasn't done that before. She was worried when you were sick and she's only ever worried when her teammates are sick."

"She wasn't worried." You rolled your eyes lightly and managed a small smile at Wanda.

"Oh she definitely was."

You groaned when you heard your phone vibrate on your bedside table. You rolled over begrudgingly, only bothering to check it because you knew it was lunch break at school and it might have been Wanda sending you the class notes you had asked for.

Unknown number: when I saw you weren't in class I assumed you were dead

You frowned as you took a double take of the message and the number you didn't recognize. The fuck? You decided to respond anyway, if they were in your class and texted you maybe they would send you their notes too.

You: sorry, who is this??

Unknown number: your favourite jock ;)

They replied, pretty much instantly. You put two and two together, but really the smirking face would have been enough.

You: Carol? How did you get this number??

You rubbed your eyes and pulled you sick bowl closer to you, frowning at the discomfort you felt.

Unknown number: so I am your favourite jock?? Good to know

You rolled your eyes and groaned more, knowing Carol wouldn't be forgetting that in a hurry. You didn't respond to that, instead shutting off your phone in hopes of getting more sleep but a minute later another text came through. You knew it would be Carol, but you still reached over to check it.

Unknown number: and Wanda gave it to me

"Dammit, Wanda." You grumbled, going to write her an angry message but Carol had something else to say.

Unknown number: I asked very nicely

You fought off a smile weakly and decided to change her contact, telling yourself it might be useful to keep it.

Jackass: You home alone?

She didn't seem to want to stop talking. Although you couldn't deny that it made you smile more when you wondered if she meant was anyone there to look after you.

You: I am, parents have to work

Jackass: want me to come over and make you feel better? ;)

Suddenly you didn't feel like talking to Carol anymore. You were sick and feeling crappy and all Carol wanted to do was fuck, she was hardly subtle about it either. If you hadn't already been thinking long and hard about what the jock could possible think of you, that would have been the moment you started to ponder it.

With your mood somehow lowered even more, you turned your phone off to go back to sleep, accidentally swiping the notification that read Jackass: * :)

"I still can't believe you gave her my number." You grumbled as you swirled the chocolaty drink in front of you.

"She did ask very nicely." Wanda grinned.

"Enough about her." You said, leaning forward on your elbows to grin back at your friend. "How's your girlfriend?"

You were on your phone when you saw a donut being pushed across the table towards you out of the corner of your eye. It was your favourite type that also happened to be the one the cafeteria rarely sold, so when it landed in front of you you looked up with a smile, expecting to see Wanda smiling knowingly back at you.

Carol grinned as she pulled out the chair opposite you and sat herself down. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda who was trying to hide her smile and look away.

"It's for you." Carol said after a second.

"What do I have to do for it?" You asked, only half joking as you eyed the treat suspiciously.

"Come on another date with me." She winked. You leaned back and looked away from Carol and the donut, displeased but not surprised. "Nothing." Carol said quickly. "You don't have to do anything, I just know that one's your favourite." The blonde said. You had never told her that. You eyed Wanda again who quickly looked away like she hadn't been watching the interaction and leaned into Natasha.

"Thank you, Danvers." You said quietly, moving the napkin that the donut was on closer to you.

"I thought we were passed that." Carol chuckled, you wanted to smile at the sound. Carol leaned down to grab something out of her rucksack as you started on the donut, not entirely sure if you should try make conversation or just run away.

"I took notes yesterday, while you were gone." The jock said as she put her notebook on the table and flicked through her badly organised pages to find the one she was looking for. You raised your eyebrows slightly in response.

You had never once seen Carol take actual notes in class, but when she spun the book around to face you you were even more surprised to see the detailed notes she had been taking, even with a couple of small diagrams at the bottom she had probably copied from the board.

"Are they okay? Wilson's pretty good at this shit I'm sure I could get him to-"

"They're great!" You interrupted. "They're...fuck, I'm sorry but since when did you take notes?" You didn't want to seem rude but it felt like you were witnessing a never before seen event or the discovery of a new species.

"Just figured you would want them." Carol shrugged and took a sandwich out her bag.

"Yeah I... thank you." You muttered and smiled when you saw a small doodle of a star. "Can I?" You asked as you motioned to your phone's camera. Carol nodded with a smile and watched as you took photos of her notes.

Wanda coughed from across the table and you shot daggers at her, knowing what she so desperately wanted to say. She hasn't done that for anyone else.

"It was sweet of her though." Wanda pointed out as her eyes stayed fixed on Natasha's form.

"It was, but you've gotten me donuts before and you don't want to date me." You said as you tried to stop your eyes trailing to Carol again as they seemed to keep doing.

"Well if Natasha wasn't here..." Wanda teased with a smile. You rolled your eyes at your friend and chuckled.

"Are Carol's abs as hard as they look?" Wanda asked randomly. You couldn't help but look up at the blonde at the mention of her name and perhaps one of your favourite things about her.

It was a hot day and her team was training hard on the field, so most of the athletes had their shirts off. Carol's abs were on full display and given the amount of core stretches she had been doing they were as prominent as ever.

"They are." You muttered, remembering the first time you ran your hands across her chest.

You heard giggling in the row behind you and turned around to see a group of girls also watching Carol and her team train. It was obvious their gazes fell on the same area yours had and suddenly you remembered the long list of names that Carol used to show off proudly.

The girl's whispers became louder as did the giggling and without realizing what you were doing you found yourself comparing you to them. They were popular, effortlessly beautiful and probably had much more experience than you ever had. You couldn't compete with that. Especially when you didn't even know why Carol wanted you. You rested your head on your knees and tried to zone out the world around you as your insecurities ate at you more.

"Come on." Wanda nudged you gently as she stood up from the bleachers. You grabbed your bag and followed after her, noticing that practice was apparently over.

Natasha was standing at the bottom of the bleachers and pulled Wanda into a tight hug. You smiled at the motion, wishing you had what they did.

"Hey." Carol said to you, her eyes shining lightly in the sun.

"Hey yourself." You nodded as you began to walk behind Wanda and Nat. Carol fell into place beside you and made you think about the height difference between you. You were convinced she could give the best piggy back rides.

"You make it look easy." You blurted out. Carol arched a perfect brow at you as she pulled her shirt over her head. "Sport." You generalized, waving your hands.

"Y/n is allergic to sport." Wanda called back.

"Is that right?" Carol smirked as she looked at you.

"It is not, it's just not my thing." You defended.

"Then what is your thing?" Carol asked curiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You replied as you searched your brain, not really knowing if you had a thing. Nothing serious at least.

"I would." Carol fired back.

"That's too bad." The jock smiled and decided not to push.

"I'm sure there's a sport you can do." Carol pondered.

"If there is if it could be added to the curriculum that would be really helpful." You sighed.

"Y/n L/n, are you failing a class?" Carol gasped dramatically. You groaned when Wanda laughed, confirming the blonde's assumption.

"Could be worse, I fail loads of classes and everything seems to work out okay." Carol said calmly, seemingly completely unfazed.

You reached the car park and slowed down when you saw Natasha follow Wanda to her car. Wanda was your lift to school and therefore your ride home too. You had stayed behind to study in the library and joined your friend on the bleachers when it shut to see the last of the teams training, not thinking about the fact Wanda was staying behind so she could hang out with Natasha after.

"I can give you a ride home." Carol offered as she threw her car keys up in the air and caught them easily. You pondered that for a second, you really didn't want to be a third wheel to your friend, even if it was a short drive home.

"Yeah, thanks, Danvers." Wanda gave you a knowing smile as she waved goodbye and practically ran to her car with Natasha.Yeah, definitely the best call to leave them alone.

You got into Carol's car and tried to ignore all the memories you had of being in the backseat, instead resting your arm against the window to try and keep your focus on that. Carol didn't say much as you drove which surprised you. She seemed deep in thought about something and you couldn't help but wonder what.

"You want to come to mine?" She said suddenly. You froze in your seat before answering.

"Just my place will do. For me only! I mean I... I have homework." You rambled and felt your whole face heat up. You wondered if being in a car with Wanda and Natasha jumping each other could possibly be more uncomfortable than being sat with Carol and trying to decline her advances.

"I could help." She offered, seemingly genuinely.

"I can handle it." You forced a laugh. Carol nodded and didn't say anything else until she pulled up to your house.

"Thanks again, Danvers." You smiled at the blonde as you hauled you bag up and opened the door.

"I'm always happy to help you out, y/n." Carol smiled back your way genuinely and your stomach did a little flip.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you made your way through the school corridors and opened the double doors to the library. You smiled to the librarian as always and got a limited response but your smile faltered when you saw your usual table was taken... by Carol.

She was in her training attire and scrolling mindlessly through her phone until she glanced up and saw you. "Hey." She smiled.

"Are you lost?" You asked as you walked towards her slowly.

"No and go get changed." Was all she said as she pushed a bag of school gym clothes towards you.

"And why would I do that?" You sighed as you peered into the bag.

"Y/n," Carol started as she tilted her chair back and rested her hands behind her head with her feet on the table, her usual confident smile playing on her lips. "Does it or does it not absolutely kill you that you're failing a class?" You paused before flicking yours eyes up to her. Yes, it absolutely did.

"And am I or am I not the best athlete in the school?" Also hard to argue with. You shifted on your feet.

"Come on, y/n. I promise I'll help you at least pass the class." Carol said with certainty. You chewed your gum as you thought about it.

"What do you get out of it?" You asked as you narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

"I can go to sleep at night knowing I've helped an underling." She grinned. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile at her, Carol continued to smile back at you.

"That A* you got us on that project made me pass the class." Carol shrugged.

"Alright, Danvers." You nodded and picked up the bag. "But no funny business."

"Great!" She exclaimed and took her feet off the table to stand up.

"I'll see you in the main hall in 10."

Barely ten minutes into Carol's 'warm ups' you were already out of breath and in need of a break. You glared at her every time she barked orders at you with a grin, clearly enjoying bossing you around.

"Catch!" Carol exclaimed as she hauled a basketball at you. You ducked out the way and watched it fly past your head.

"You trying to kill me?!" Carol was bent over laughing at your exasperation and inability to catch a simple ball.

"Shut the fuck up, Danvers." You huffed but managed to hit the second ball that came your way.

"You really are allergic to sports huh?" She teased as you scowled at her. "Okay, let's start with the basics."

Surprisingly, from that point onward Carol wasn't that bad. She gave you a lot of pointers that honestly proved helpful because you slowly started to improve. Granted, you were still bad, but you were better.

"Arms like this." She instructed and watched as you mimicked her shooting position. "Elbows a little higher." You did as she said but she smiled at the attempt and stepped behind you. You froze up a little when she put her hands over yours and lifted them up too to a position that felt more natural.

"You got it." She assured, speaking right next to your ear so you could feel her breath against your skin. Then she withdrew her soft hands from yours and backed away. You missed the contact immediately.

"Now shoot." She instructed. You missed.

Carol trained you after school pretty much every day after that. Your limbs always ached after those sessions, so much so you were tempted to cave and take Carol up on her offer of a back rub.

You found that some sports were actually kind of fun to play with Carol, whether it was the absence of the pressure you got in a full class of teenagers or just because you enjoyed the blonde's company, it wasn't all that bad.

You still couldn't find a sport you were good at, but you didn't really care. You wondered what would happen when you did. Would Carol coach you at it for a bit then abandon your sessions? They couldn't keep going forever. The pang you got in your chest was the reason you had been ignoring Carol weeks prior, you didn't want to feel that for her. You just couldn't help it.

"Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." You recalled as Valkyrie wrote it down.

"I knew it was something like that." She waved off.

"Yeah you were really close with..." You glanced at her notes. "She gives me a boner." You laughed and put your face in your hand.

"That's the modern day translation!" Valkyrie exclaimed defensively.

"Please don't put that in your exam." You sighed as you flicked through your copy of Romeo and Juliet to find the next act.

"One sec." Valkyrie said as she looked down at her phone that was vibrating on the desk with a caller ID that you couldn't read.

"Hey, Captain." Valkyrie answered. You looked her way and back at your book quickly. There was more than one Captain in the school.

"I'm in the library studying." She continued and paused for the other voice to speak. "It's not that bad, a pretty girl's teaching me Romeo and Juliet." Valkyrie winked at you and you smiled weakly back, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Fucking jocks and their shameless flirtation.

"Yeah I'll be done soon, see you then." She said and hung up the phone before turning back to you.

"Are there any quotes about boners?" The minutes after that went by painstakingly slowly. It was only a one off tutoring session that you would get an extra credit for, but you could think of a million things you would rather be doing with your lunch break.

Valkyrie nodded past you at someone at the library entrance. You turned around out of instinct and saw Carol strolling towards your table, eyes focused on you.

"Thanks for this." Valkyrie said as she packed away her things. "If I pass the exam I'm gonna have to find some way to make it up to you." She smirked as her eyes trailed over your legs.

You glanced at Carol who looked far from pleased at Valkyrie's comment and couldn't help but smile because that is exactly what she sounded like to you sometimes.

"That's okay." You muttered as you tried to avoid her gaze and put your books back in your bag.

"Alright, but I'm having a party this weekend. You should come."

"I'm not really a party person." You laughed awkwardly, wanting the encounter to be over.

"You don't have to spend long at the party itself." Valkyrie shrugged as she took a bold step towards you. "You could always stay in my room-"

"She said no." Carol cut in. Her eyes bore into Valkyrie's with a look that said the conversation was over. Her stance was firm and her jaw was tightly locked as she glared at her team mate. Valkyrie frowned and looked back at you as you fiddled with your bag zip and avoided her eye, silently thanking Carol even if she had been a tad aggressive.

"Right, sorry." Valkyrie muttered before making her way past you. Carol gave you a small smile before turning to leave with her team mate. You were sure Wanda would have something to say about that.

It was a few days until you saw Carol again. She had texted you to briefly say she had practice after school and you didn't see her at lunch breaks either. It annoyed you to admit you missed her company.

With every second you spent with the jock your crush on her grew. You knew that any longer and you may just end up head over heals for her which would only end in heart break for you. But every time you saw the wisp of blonde hair, shine of brown eyes with her confident smile or even just that god damn varsity jacket, you didn't care about how it could end.

It was a Thursday when she texted you during lunch to ask if you wanted to practice after school. You replied a little too eagerly with a yes and continued listening to Wanda rant about something dumb Pietro had done.

A few hours later you held a bat in your hands and prepared for Carol to throw the ball your way. She wasn't very talkative that day, a rarity for the blonde. You wanted to ask if something was up with her but the concentrated look on her face made you not want to disrupt her train of thought.

"I'm sorry." She said suddenly.

"That's alright." You sighed as you watched the ball roll across the field. That was a particularly fast throw.

"About snapping in the library." Carol corrected. "I didn't mean to make it awkward." She said as she scratched the back or her neck then stretched her arm to throw again.

"You didn't." You assured honestly. "I was already uncomfortable." You huffed as you missed another throw from Carol even after trying to apply all her tips.

"Val can be quite persistent." Carol said, still not showing her smile.

"Just like someone else I know." You shrugged. Carol faltered at the obvious call out.

"Lets switch." She said quietly and handed you her glove as she took the bat from you. She explained to you the basics of her own throwing techniques and had a few recommendations on what she thought might work best for you.

"If you ever told me no, I'd back off." Carol said as put the bat up. You were thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation.

"I know you would have." You hoped Carol noticed your use of past tense. You had already decided that sex with her again would be too dangerous for you. God only knows what you would end up blurting out. You cringed at the thought of confessing your love for Carol as she fucked you.

Your eyes shifted to the track team that were doing their laps around another part of the field. They made it look as easy as always.

"You got eyes for one of them, y/n?" Carol asked in a voice that seemed more curious than teasing.

"Not my type." You muttered as you threw the ball weakly again.

"What is your type?" Carol asked, unable to mask her curiosity that time.

"I don't know." You huffed. The blonde looked at you expectantly, clearly hoping for something more. "And what's your type, Danvers?" You asked, successfully shifting the conversation when you saw a glint in Carol's eyes. Her smile returned.

"Eh, about (your height), (your eye colour) eyes, terrible at sport but really cute so it's dorky." Carol shrugged. Damn, that could almost be me. You glanced up at the blonde to throw again and saw her smirking at you.

"Someone should warn her." You joked in a feeble attempt to hide your disappointment that we swelling in the pit of your stomach.

"I just did." Wait... Carol's smirk grew as she watched the realization spread across your face. You blushed deeply and tried to fight off a smile.

"I don't think baseball's working either." You muttered.

"You know it's strange, I always thought you were going to become a jock." Pietro said thoughtfully before taking a bite of his apple.

"First of all how dare you and secondly what the hell gave you that idea?" You exclaimed. Wanda was giggling besides you while Carol gave you a look of faux offence.

"That's the highest compliment!" She argued.

"I second that." Natasha nodded.

"Do you remember Wanda's 14th birthday party?" Pietro asked.

"It's a treasured memory." You grinned at Wanda. "I kicked your ass at bowling." You recalled proudly.

"You kicked everyone's ass at it. Bowling's a sport isn't it?" Apparently word had spread about Carol's private lessons. You and the blonde had spent weeks going back and forth between different sports. Overall, you were still pretty crap but you had been lifted to a passing grade in the class. You kept meaning to tell Carol that, but you didn't want the lessons to end. You concluded that as long as she didn't ask, you wouldn't tell.

"I'd say so." Wanda shrugged but Carol and Natasha clearly had different opinions.

"Fuck no!"

"Please do not align that with us!" They erupted. You and Wanda started to laugh at their outraged expression, never knowing something to piss a jock off more.

The sound of the bell overhead was followed by a few groans from those around the table as you all packed up and left the table. At least it was a Friday. You wandered across the field on your usual route of going round the main buildings to avoid the crowded corridors, lost in your thoughts until someone jogged up besides you.

"Bowling, huh?" She inquired as she slowed down to a walk.

"It's been years." You said offhandedly.

"You got plans tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"We should go bowling, if you want to. Obviously just as part of your lessons." Carol offered as she looked ahead.

"I thought you said it isn't a sport." You eyed the blonde suspiciously with a smile.

"It isn't, but this I have to see."

"Okay." You nodded without much thought. Bowling with the jock did sound fun.

"I'll pick you up at 2."

"These shoes are ridiculous." Carol grumbled.

"American football shoulder pads are ridiculous but you don't hear me calling that out." You fired back.

"Oh, so that was meant at someone else?"

"Sure." You shrugged as you smiled at Carol's brightly coloured shoes. You went onto your lane and gleamed at the nostalgic sound of pins being knocked over and the bright spot lights across the lanes.

Carol put your names into the scoreboard tablet as you ran your hands over the bowling balls and frowned slightly as you realized you still had to use one of the smaller ones.

"Experts first." Carol motioned to the beginning of the lane with a small smirk and you smiled back at her excitedly and grabbed a ball.

"Just remember it's been a while!" You called back to the eagerly watching blonde. She hummed back. You brought the ball up to your chest to have a feel of the weight and glared at the pins, there had to be something you could impress Carol with. With a deep breath, you swung your arm back and forward to let the ball go, center down the lane and colliding with the painted targets. All but one knocked over and you couldn't help but throw tour hands up in the air in triumph.

"That was pretty good!" You declared as you turned back to Carol happily. She beamed back at you, giving you a smile that made her eyes squint and look absolutely adorable.

You grabbed the second ball and rolled it smoothly across the polished floor, successfully hitting the last pin. Carol strolled up after you, her hands hovering over the range in front of her and landing on one for someone with a bigger hand. You scoffed quietly, not believing the jock could hold it but she picked it up with ease.

You stood, wide eyed, watched as she sauntered over to the lane and swung her arm. The ball veered off to the side and took down a couple of pins that Carol glared at.

"Unlucky is all." She grumbled as she went to get another ball. This time when she threw it it fell into the dip along the side, it was hard to hide your amusement.

"That's just bullshit." Carol grumbled.

"Do you want me to put the sides up for you, Danvers? Or maybe I could ask someone for that ramp." You teased. She flipped you off and went to sit on the small sofa and watched you carefully.

You knocked most of the pins over on your next few goes while Carol got very little. You tried to give her a few tips but apparently her ego was too big to accept them, which meant you were winning marginally.

You spun around to face the blonde after knocking the last of your pins over but she wasn't on her spot on the sofa. You were about to get your phone out to text her but you spotted her sauntering back towards your area with a bowl of nachos. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Carol gave a dramatic huff as she spotted the scoreboard and beckoned you over to the small table by the sofas. "We'll start a new round after these." She said as she put them on the table. "I didn't poison them." She quipped when you didn't move.

"Sometimes I think you'd do anything to win." You replied as you sat down opposite her and took one of the nachos. In all honesty you weren't expecting Carol to get the snack, never mind to want to share it.

Carol flexed her right hand absent mindedly as she glanced around at over areas of the alley. "Your hand hurting?" You asked as you took another nacho with a lot of cheese on it.

"A little." She shrugged and lifted it up to look at the back of her mind. Without thinking, you put your hand and pressed it gently flat against hers. Not only were her fingers longer than yours but her palm was bigger too, even her wrist was thicker. It was only when you caught Carol's eye that you went to bring your hand away but she laced her fingers through yours and put them down on the table.

"Sorry, I was just curious." You blushed even though it was clear Carol didn't mind.

"Okay." She chuckled as she continued on the nachos. You finished the rest of the snack in silence with your hands still together until you leaned back and glanced at the lane again.

"Ready to have your ass kicked again?" You quipped.

"Don't get cocky, kid." Carol mused as she rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Since when did you know Star Wars?" You asked in complete disbelief.

"I love Star Wars." Carol said casually. "And since always."

"I didn't take you for the type." You smiled as you tried to study the jock for any signs of a lie.

"That's just because you never asked." She shrugged and stood up, letting your hands slide apart. You missed the contact instantly but that didn't distract you enough from her words.

Of course you had never asked her something like that, Star Wars was the last thing you'd guess she would like. You knew there was always more to people than what they showered publicly, but Carol had always seemed like such an open book in every way. So hearing that she wasn't quite what you thought she was, even after the few months of knowing her better, simply made you impossibly more interested in the blonde. You stared at Carol in nothing short of awe, she was really something else.

"I've had enough of these shoes." She declared.

"You quitting on me Danvers?" You quipped but really your heart dropped at the thought she wanted to cut your outing short.

"I'm just thinking we could try our hand at a few other things, seeing as we're not doing sport anymore." She said as she nodded towards the arcade.

Your eyes lit up at all the games in the entrance as you found your competitiveness returning. You both returned your shoes and practically ran over to the arcade area with all its choices. You decided to head towards the air hockey first as you argued over whether or not it was a sport. Carol, of course, took the opposition.

Your reflexes weren't as good as hers but you liked to think you put up a good fight, even if you did curse under your breath every time the blonde scored. The screen above you both lit up to declare Carol's victory that she was very happy to celebrate, you watched as she danced around the table towards you in what could have been the dorkiest thing you had ever seen.

"You having fun there?" You laughed.

"So much fun." Carol grinned back and eyed her next target.

"Absolutely not!" You cried out when her eyes landed on the basketball. You took her by the hand and tried your best to ignore the electricity running up your arms at how perfectly her hand fit in yours and led her through the arcade. You came to a halt by a racing game and before you could even suggest the idea to Carol she was clambering into the seat and shoving the coins into the machine. You sat down next to her and did the same. You were both terrible. The controls were slightly broken and far too sensitive, making the cars on screen spin around when you tried to turn and never going straight.

"Piece of garbage!" Carol shouted at the screen as you passed the finish line by some miracle.

"Wanna go again?" You asked with a grin but the blonde was already jumping off the seat.

"Now this I have to win." Carol declared as she spotted the nearest shooting game. It was some kind of zombies in space crossover but you didn't much question that when you picked up the plastic gun.

"We work together on this, Danvers." You laughed.

"Count yourself lucky then." Carol said as she aimed her gun at the screen as the game started.

"The fact that you didn't know how it works doesn't make me all that confident in you." You pointed out as you started firing at the horde of zombies. You didn't see one that was charging at you from the left but Carol shot it down before it reached you.

"You're welcome." She smirked then shot some more on your right. "Come on, y/n I'm doing all the work here."

"Fuck yourself, Danvers." You fired back as you tried to reload your gun.

"Fuck me yourself you coward." She challenged. Your mouth went dry but you started to laugh. She didn't make the comment with her usual smirk and suggestive tone, instead it seemed like a genuine joke that you didn't get anxious about.

"That would be a first." You quipped with a smile. You managed to take the last few zombies.

"It really would be, I am a virgin after all." She said casually and you dropped your gun. "Oh shit, here we go!" Carol laughed as the zombie boss made its dramatic entrance.

"Wait what?" You stammered as you looked between Carol and the screen while trying to get a grip on the plastic gun.

"What? No one's ever fucked me. I fuck girls, they don't fuck me back." She shrugged simply and started rapid firing at the boss.

"Maybe you should stop being exclusive to pillow princesses." You joked in a feeble attempt to mask your surprise.

"Maybe, it's not just that." She started. It confused you that she could say something so out of character while keeping most of her attention on the screen. "I don't trust any of them. I don't know, it's just, when it comes down to it, I freak out." Carol tried to explain but seemed to struggle.

"Damn." She sighed when the screen presented 'Game Over' in an overtly bloody text. You wandered away from the booth as you thought about what Carol said. She had a content smile on her face as she looked around and you figured the conversation was over.

"I love these." You told the blonde when you came across a Wac A Mole machine. You put the coins in and lifted up the rubber mallet as you kept your eyes on the board. The first one sprung up in front of you and Carol announced its presence with a cry.

"Thank you, Danvers." You smiled after hitting the figure.

"There!" She pointed to the next one, and the next one until you shouldered her out the way, not expecting her to actual wander off. When the game was over you grinned in triumph and looked to Carol for her praise but she wasn't near by. With a frown, you ventured around the arcade and found the jock hunched over a claw machine.

"These things eat you money, you know?" You half joked but to your surprise Carol dropped a small teddy bear into the box.

"And how long did that take you?" You teased as she picked it up.

"Its for you." You ran your thumb over the left paw that had a heart over it and smiled back at the jock who kept surprising you.

"Thank you, Carol." She nodded and the pair of you started to walk out the arcade and main building. Much to your surprise it was starting to get dark and there were few cars in the car park. You guessed the place would be closing soon but you hadn't realized you had been there so long. Time always seemed to fly by with Carol.

"How long were we even..." You started to laugh lightly until you turned to Carol and realized how close together you were. Your breath hitched when your eyes locked with her own that seemed to be looking back at you with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Can I kiss you?" You whispered gently. You licked your lips and nodded slowly.

Her other hand rested on your cheek as her thumb caressed the smooth skin slightly and finally closed the distance entirely.

You had kissed Carol before, but never like that. It was slow and longing and gentle and you reciprocated in an instant, matching the rhythm she set. You brought you hands up to Carol's neck and cherished the moment of feeling connected to her in the way you had been craving before you pulled apart.

"It's only our second date, Danvers." You couldn't help but quip, not knowing what to say in such an unfamiliar scenario.

"Well this second date has taken a lot of work to get." Carol pointed out and you laughed as you continued to hold her close.

"I was scared." You admitted.

"You don't have to be scared with me." Carol assured gently.

"You mean it? You really..."

"I really love you." She confirmed.

"That's lucky for me, because I love you too." You smiled and brought Carol in for another kiss that she happily encouraged.

"So... more dates?" Carol asked with a laugh, clearly not all that familiar with the procedure either. You would work it out quickly.

"Yeah Carol." You chuckled.

"That I still have to work hard for?" She half joked.

"Not if we're girlfriends." The blonde laughed more at that.

"I'm glad to hear I've upgraded from just your favourite jock.

"You're always going to be my favourite jock too." You assured and kissed Carol once more.

Carol kissed a path down your stomach and smiled against your skin as she felt you shiver. Even after weeks of dating you still weren't used to her kisses, especially not across your more sensitive areas of skin.

"I got you." She whispered as she hooked her fingers over your pajama bottoms and panties and pulled them down together, kissing the newly found skin. You shivered more as her breath ghosted over your clit making you whine and buck your hips up. Carol smiled at your reaction and leaned down not before whispering "God, you're beautiful.

She wrapped her full lips around your clit and reveled in the moan that spilled from your lips. Her tongue dipped between your folds and she moaned at the sweet taste that invaded her taste buds.

You wrapped your hands in Carol's long blonde hair to bring her closer but she pulled away with a smirk. Before you could whine in protest she pulled her own trousers down to reveal a strap you hadn't seen before. It was different in shape and colour but the most noticeable different was the absence of the harness. You moaned softly at the realization it was anchored inside her.

"I want to feel it with you." Carol said as she lowered herself back towards you and placed her hands either side of your head and kissed your neck.

"Are you sure?" You asked tentatively. It would be the first time Carol had been on the receiving end to such a level. The most you had done was go down on her a few times.

"Yes, I trust you. I love you." She grinned and lined the strap up with your entrance.

"I love you too." You had really started to enjoy saying that to her.

You moaned breathlessly as Carol inched the strap into you carefully and kissed along your jaw more. She moaned with you when she bottomed out and felt the strap dig deeper into her. Her hips twitched as she took a moment to gather her own composure and held your hands above your head, your fingers intertwined.

"I got you." You assured back to her as she started to pull out and push back in. Carol moaned loudly in response and held you closer to her as she started to build up a rhythm, your thigh slapping together.

You moaned in sync as the strap pleasured you both more and more. You wrapped your legs tightly around your girlfriend's waist to push the strap deeper inside you both.

You shuddered every time Carol's skin met yours. Carol started thrusting the toy faster and harder as she chased her own release.

"It's so good!" You cried out. You both struggled to form words, only managing breathless moans as the strap pressed firmly against your g-spots in sync.

"Me too, fuck, please Carol. Cum with me." You pleaded and gave a strangled moan. Carol shuddered and moaned louder than you had ever heard as she came undone at the same time as you.

"Y/n." Your girlfriend shuddered and started to grind her hips against yours as she rode out her high with you.

"It's okay, I got you." You said as you held onto Carol's bare back. You held her close to you as she breathed heavily against your neck, the irregular patterns starting to even out. She was still shaking so you planted soft kissed across the patches of her face that weren't hidden in your neck as you stroked her hair, a content smile on your lips.

She adjusted herself slightly and the pair of you moaned softly when she eased the toy out and put it on the floor. "I'll clean it later." She whispered, eyes closed, before you could say anything.

"Okay." You chuckled and brought her closer to you. You wrapped your arms around one another as your legs tangled together under the sheets.

Carol's soft breath caressed your skin as you stroked her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. A faint smile played across her lips at the action, confirming that she was just as happy as you were.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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sserpente · 3 years

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A/N: Heyho there my lovelies! I’m finally back! I missed posting so much! This Imagine is based on a TikTok I found and what can I say? It inspired me! After this, next up, will be the 20k Special! Enjoy everyone!

Words: 3205 Warnings: colour-blindness

“What if I never find him?” You murmured, glancing at the fruit bowl with a saddened expression. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. To you, they were all different shades of grey. Dull and boring, like you had been sucked into a 30s black-and-white film. Only you didn’t get a cheesy romance out of it.

You had been born with what doctors today would call a ‘remarkably rare, complicated and fascinating condition’, for you had lost all of your colour vision at the age of twelve. You still remembered what the world had looked like before—bright, rich, intense—then someone flicked a switch overnight and all you could still see was grey, grey, grey and greyer. The colours would only ever come back to you once you found the love of your life—your soulmate.

A sigh escaped your lips. Only a few people still existed with this… defect and to make things worse, you had had no idea you were one of them. Not until your twelfth birthday. Society admired and pitied you all the same and yet, being a hopeless romantic, at the end of the day, you longed to finally fall in love.

Tony chuckled. “Heads up. You’re too young to worry about settling down anyway.” He responded cheerfully and pointed at you with a screwdriver in hand. He had been trying to fix the dishwasher for a solid twenty minutes now and for a man who had built himself a pretty much indestructible suit that could fly, it was utterly amusing he couldn’t figure out why it had stopped working.

You were not an Avenger, mind you. The sole reason you were, as of right now, in the Avengers’ kitchen munching on grey chocolate chips was that your best friend, who in turn was friends with Clint’s wife, had managed to flood your shared flat over the weekend. It was utterly inhabitable now and it would take quite a while for the landlord to get it all dried up again—and since insurance would not cover the cost for staying in a hotel, for the time being, Clint’s wife had suggested you’d stay with them—right until Tony Stark had shown up and you had graciously offered you’d come hang out at the Avengers Tower. Okay, technically you had begged him but either way and needless to say, you had jumped at the opportunity and somehow even hoped that you would learn some dirty superhero secrets—but so far, nothing. Nothing but what superheroes did when they were not out and about saving the world. Truth be told, seeing Thor in Hello Kitty pyjamas and witnessing Natasha Romanoff of all people scream watching an Asian horror film had its perks but you had somehow expected for them to be called in for an urgent mission where they required a skill only you had and then they would rely on your help and you would fight and become an Avenger and… your fanfiction had always sounded too good to be true.

“Are you still there? How is that fruit bowl so interesting?” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you blinked.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that…”

“Tony?” It was Bruce who interrupted you two, peeking his head into the kitchen almost timidly. You waved at him and he nodded, yet he failed to reciprocate your smile. Uh-Oh.

“Did something happen?”

The scientist nodded. “You might wanna put on your suit.”

“What happened?”

Bruce pursed his lips. “We’ve located Loki.”

Your eyes were still widened by the time you rushed after Tony even after he had told you explicitly (three times, to be exact) to stay put and hide until he had been put in custody.

The Loki. God of Mischief, Thor’s brother, Frost Giant, the I-tried-to-take-over-the-planet-guy. It was exciting, somehow, meeting a villain and oh, would it fuel you for your fan fiction. You almost bumped straight into Thor when they all came to a halt all of a sudden, his body a wall of flesh and muscle and making you grunt in pain—you might as well have hit a brick wall. With his hammer in hand, he ensured no one would approach his dangerous brother closely enough for him to try anything funky.

But the fact that Loki was even more handsome in person and the first villain you ever saw in person when he turned around the corner with a proud and arrogant expression on his face despite his shackles, was not what startled you to the core.

All of a sudden, there were colours. Everywhere.

Your lips parted, the impact of all the pigmentation around you making you dizzy. Loki’s armour was black, his cape was green, his eyes were blue, and his hair reminded you of the plumage of a raven. And your surroundings... The compound was silver now, the sceptre they had taken from him golden. Nauseous, you held on to Thor’s muscly arm for support. The God of Thunder frowned in concern. His eyes were blue too, his hair blonde, his cape red… too… many… colours. You suppressed a gag, overwhelmed by the sudden return of your colour vision.

“Are you okay?” Thor asked.

“G-guys… I can see colours.”

Every single head in the room, including Loki’s, turned in your direction so fast you flinched. Tony’s face was the first to fall in response.

“You are joking, right?”

Mutely, you shook your head. Your eyes locked with Loki’s, electricity rippling through you when they did. His blue irises froze you from the inside out, like each and every one of your limbs failed to resist the magnetic pull you felt towards him, and your cells longed for you to throw yourself into his arms—despite the fact he was handcuffed... and for a good reason too. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to look away.

Loki was your soulmate. That was impossible; and quite frankly, the god in question appeared to be thinking the exact same thing.

You chewed on your lower lip, anything to distract yourself from your predicament all the while everyone was still staring at you like you had grown two more heads.

“Take him to the cells, I’ll stay with her.” Clint’s hand on your shoulder did little to console you. Part of you still barely resisted the urge to start at Loki like a succubus, the other… the other was terrified and meant to hide in the archer’s embrace.

You could feel Loki’s blue gaze still resting on you when he led you away from the scene, staring daggers into your back and rendering you speechless until you were finally out of sight and Clint shook your shoulder gently.

“Are you sure it’s not one of the security guards that helped bring him in?”

“No… no, I saw them first. Loki was behind them. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it but somehow, Loki was in colour first, you know what I mean? First him and then, a split second later, everything else was colourful too.”

“And now?”

“Now what?”

“Do you still see in colour now?”

“Of course I do.” Clint sighed and buried his face in his hands.

“So what happens if you don’t… act on this soulmate thing?”

“Nothing. Nothing happens.” You said.

“So you don’t have to… stay close to Loki or anything?”

“No. Not that I know of. But Clint—“

“Good. Because he might find a way to use you against us. Stay away from him. Thor’ll take him back to Asgard soon enough. All we need to do first is find the Tesseract.”

Your lips were pursed when he turned to check on them and if Loki was wreaking havoc while they were trying to get him imprisoned.

Stay away from him? Of course… it was the most reasonable thing to do. Loki was dangerous, a criminal… but was that right? Now that you had found your soulmate in him?

You couldn’t get him out of your head that night. Screw the danger, you had to see him. And eventually, your curiosity and that inexplicable and strange pull you felt towards Loki got the better of you. With a deep breath, you threw your covers back and let your bare feet hit the cold floor before quietly tiptoeing out into the dark and empty hallway.

Your blood was rushing in your ears, making you hear things your paranoia and imagination cooked up to the point your heart was pounding in your chest so hard and fast you feared it might jump right out of your ribcage. No one could know, of course. Clint would positively kill you—he, along with Tony, somewhat considered himself responsible for you here. You couldn’t really blame them. If something happened to you, they’d never forgive themselves. You were an innocent civilian, after all.

And now you had been tossed into the greatest fanfiction yet. Shivering, for the cold slowly crept into your bare skin and through the tanktop and shorts you were wearing to sleep, you finally reached the corridor leading to the elevator. The prison cells, a rather new addition to Stark Tower, were located at the very bottom, the cellar, or… what you preferred to call it, a modern dungeon.

You found Loki with his back turned to you in his cell, looking pale through the glass pane. Your heart skipped a beat when he suddenly spoke up.

“I expected you would find a way to come and see me at some point. I’d dare say the Avengers have taken quite the precautions to keep you as far away from me as possible.” He mused. He lifted his chin, approaching the glass window.

It was quite ridiculous to assume that this tiny and meagre prison would keep the Trickster at bay after everything he had proven to be capable of. If only he wanted to, he could shatter that glass with but a flick of his wrist or break the heavy metal door posing as the only barrier between you.

If you were to just… unlock that door to touch him… it would be so easy. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head to chase the thought away.

“Who are you?” He asked and for just a brief moment, you believed to see genuine interest and curiosity sparkling in his stunning blue eyes.

“No one, really. You already know my name, I presume but that’s all there is. I’m not special—I mean, I don’t have superpowers. I’m just a regular human with a rare condition.”

“Oh, I see. Surely you had not hoped for a criminal of all people to be your soulmate then? A murderer? A monster?” His expression hardened.

Yes. But you were not going to tell him that. He was still the person to have made you see colours again, regardless of who he was and what he had done. There must have been a connection between you, you felt it after all! And you were certain that he felt it too.

“Thor will take me back to Asgard and the great King Odin,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “will surely have me executed. You will never see me again. So do not worry.”

“I don’t want that.” You finally chirped, barely daring to look him in the eye. His gaze was scrutinising and intimidating… almost as if he was able to see right into your soul with but one single glance.

Loki frowned.

“I bet you’re not happy about this, are you?” A desperate scoff escaped your lips. “I’m not sure I am…” You confessed and sat down on the chair in front of the window. It creaked a little under your weight, the unpleasant sound echoing through the empty hallway.

This man right in front of you was not be trusted and yet, the desire to pour your heart out to him was so strong you felt it like a sea of emotions attempting to drown you.

“You know ever since my twelfth birthday I wondered when I would finally meet my soulmate. Who they would be, what they would be like… and then so many years passed I was beginning to worry I might never see colours again. That I’d be alone and grey for the rest of my life.”

Loki licked his lips and glanced up at you, listening intently to every single word you said.

“Now I met you and they all tell me not to trust you. I mean… I know who you are, I know what you’ve done. I can’t say I’m happy about the fact my soulmate is…” You stopped yourself, breathing in sharply. “What was the universe thinking? You are a god and I’m just… me. We live light-years apart!”

Eventually, after a moment of surprisingly pleasant silence between you, Loki hummed. “The Norns do have interesting ways.” He said, locking his eyes with yours, almost as if he was pondering if… if what? If he could imagine being with you?

“So what should we do? Never speak of it again? Pretend we have never met? I can’t just… come to Asgard with you.” You held your breath when you realised what you were considering here. Loki must have thought the same. He smirked in response—not mockingly but bitterly. “Odin would never allow a mortal on Asgard. If I was to survive my trial, that is.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t care you’re a criminal right now, I just found my soulmate, and I don’t want to lose him again right away, regardless of what happens between us.”

With a start, his face fell. “Nothing will happen between us. That would be unnecessarily cruel, would it not? Your life in the nine realms is but a heartbeat compared to mine.”

“So… this is goodbye?”

Loki hesitated. You noticed by the way his lips slightly parted without a single sound escaping them just yet.

“Yes. This is goodbye.”

The fruit bowl had become your new best friend. In the morning, tired and rather absent, you sat at the kitchen table holding on to a steaming mug of coffee all the while studying the different colours of the fruit before you like a complicated Maths formula.

“Did you have a good chat last night?” Clint barked at you when he entered the room, skipping the ‘Good morning’.

“Huh?”

“With Loki?” He probed, raising his eyebrows in an I-already-know-what-you’ve-done manner.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, shaking your head and focusing your gaze on the fruit bowl again. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. In colour.

You flinched when Tony spoke your name. “We saw the footage on our security cameras. You sneaked to his cell last night knowing fully well why you should stay away from him, especially with… with… you know.”

Fuck… the security cameras. You had completely forgotten about those! Of course the legendary Tony Stark would have had security cameras installed all over the damn place!

Busted, you shrugged your shoulders as nonchalantly as you could muster. “I just wanted to talk him. I had to talk to him. I know what you’re all thinking—that he’s evil and brutal and cruel and ruthless… and… and you’re probably right? I… I don’t even know but… he is still my soulmate. I can see colours again because of him for Fuck’s sake! I can’t just… ignore that.”

“I get it. We don’t know what it must feel like. But it’s for the best. We don’t want him to hurt you.”

“I am his soulmate, too. He wouldn’t dare hurt me. You know maybe he’s not the monster you all think he is.”

“Are you saying that because you know him so well after last night or because that is what you want to believe?”

Both. “I just… have a feeling.”

“Right.” Tony clapped his hands. Your name left his lips almost like a plea. “You have to trust us.”

Thor nodded. “Loki is dangerous. You should stay away from him at least until we know he is not still plotting the domination of your planet.”

“What do you mean ‘at least until’? You can stop staying away from him when he’s back on Asgard and out of your reach.” Tony snapped.

“We’re just trying to keep you safe.” Steve intervened. You sighed.

“You know what? I’m getting a headache and I’m still tired, so I’m gonna go back to bed.” That wasn’t even a lie—well, at least the fatigue bit wasn’t. Besides, the blackout curtains in the room Tony let you stay in were heaven-sent.

That was until a loud tumult in the Tower woke you up again, even though you were not sure anymore you had actually fallen asleep once your head hit the soft pillow.

“W—“ Your scream of protest was muffled by a cool palm covering your mouth. You struggled briefly, ripping your eyes wide open in a weak attempt to make out who was assaulting you in the comforting darkness of your room when you suddenly heard a soothing voice shushing you.

“It’s me…”

“L-Loki?” You choked out when he removed his hand again. “Did you… did you break out of your cell?”

“It would seem so. Come.”

“What?”

He tilted his head. “I don’t have much time.”

You stood, throwing the covers back when he already reached for your hand and held it tightly, pulling you with him into the hallway and towards one of the more hidden exists of Stark Tower, a flight of stairs illuminated only by emergency lights.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I am proving to you that I am more than just a criminal.”

“Oh… but… um… where are we going?”

Loki smirked. Your eyes widened when he pulled out the Tesseract seemingly out of nowhere, its blue light glowing brightly in the dark and throwing artistic shadows on his face.

“Hold on tight.”

“Loki…”

The God of Mischief pulled you close, making you gasp. Your chest hit his, his arm wrapping around your waist. With his face only inches from yours, you could feel his warm breath on your lips, and suddenly longed to kiss him.

“You are my soulmate. I am not leaving you behind.”

“What happened to ‘goodbye’?” You chirped.

Loki tilted his head almost threateningly. “You are mine. Don’t you think I wanted to leave this place without looking back?” His expression softened. “But I couldn’t. Because of you.” And you might just be the only woman to ever love me in this way, he added silently.

“B-but… Y-you said Odin will never allow me on Asgard and… and…”

“I never said we were going to Asgard, now was I?”

Your lips parted. Could you trust him? The stranger who had finally made you see colours again? If you told him No, would he let go of you? Would he let you run to Tony and Clint and Nat so they could protect you from him? Swallowing thickly, you met his intense blue gaze and nodded.

Loki smirked and winked. “You are in for an adventure.” And you knew he wasn’t lying. Next thing you knew, you were both hurtled through space and into a shared future.

A/N: ☕

723 notes · View notes

inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Dazed and Confused ( S1: 3/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild language and violence

Word Count: 3.1k

Part Summary: At Tina’s party, Y/N wants to forget all of her problems. Things take a turn when Billy makes a move on her, angering Steve

Masterlist

Arriving at Tina’s after dropping Dustin at Mike’s, I am in much need of some good old spiked punch. I yank down my gray oversized sweatshirt some more so that it hangs low off my shoulder. As I cross the threshold into the house, the heat of the crowded living room slaps me in the face. Directly to my left, the kitchen AKA the alcohol hub. I slip between bodies and end up at the counter covered with semi-empty bottles and old plastic cups. Most importantly, a bowl of maroon punch sits in the corner. I grab a cup and make my way over. A boy stands in front of it but I reach around him and scoop up some of the mystery substance.

“What’s in this?” I hear a voice holler behind me.

I turn around to answer but freeze when I realize it’s Nancy. She stares at me equally stunned. My face falls, this is awkward. Seriously universe? I couldn’t have at least one drink before bumping into her?

Steve appears behind her looking slick as ever in his black sunglasses and matching blazer.

“Everclear is my guess,” I answer, acting civil.

She nods timidly, “thanks…”

I step out of her way so she can get some of her own. Steve’s head travels up and down slowly with a blank expression. I can’t see his eyes but I assume he’s studying my costume. A gray oversized sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder, red heels, matching earrings, and some shorts, though they’re unnoticeable. I can feel him starring me down through those stupid Ray-Bans. Silently, I beg for him to not bring up our encounter in the parking lot. All I wish for tonight is to drown out reality and try to forget. He’s a human ticking time bomb. The tension between us could be cut with a knife.

“Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Nancy jumps in, forcing me to break my staring contest with her boyfriend.

I open my mouth to answer but Steve beats him to it.

“Flashdance,” he answers for me. “It’s one of her favorites.”

He acts distant, unattached, distracted by the party but I see right through it. There’s something he’s not saying. He says things like this as if it’s common knowledge. A random person wouldn’t describe my eyes as Y/E/C but gray depending on the lighting. One minute, he calls my eyes beautiful and the next he’s starring me down like a disapproving parent. The hell Harrington?!

Nancy gushes, apparently she and I are okay all of a sudden, despite early today with the whole Barb thing. Plus, I think she’s already been drinking for awhile so buzzed Nancy is fun Nancy.

“That’s so cute! You look hot!” She pulls me into a hug.

Over her shoulder, I glimpse up at Steve as he lifts his glasses to rest of his head. His brown eyes threaten to expose my upset from earlier. I get that he’s pissed about my neglect for my feelings. He wants to talk about what was wrong but right now we’re at a party and parties aren’t meant for depressing conversations.

“Let’s go dance!” Nancy suggests, already tugging me into the living room.

Steve calls after her but she ignores him. He follows behind us through the crowd with a groan. In the center of the living room, Nancy stops and turns to me with a bright grin. She cheers as she tosses her head back.

“Woohoo!” She laughs.

This is what I wanted, normalcy. We’re surrounded by our friends, drinking, dancing, being stupid! We did this before everything so why can’t we do it now? Perhaps after tonight, everything will fall back into place.

_______________________________________

On my third game of flip-cup, I’m beyond buzzed. In fact, when I walk I float. I’m on cloud nine. Here, this carefree and lively state is exactly where I wanted to be. Naturally, I’m competitive and amazing at drinking games so I finish my third game with yet another win. I cheer as Tommy from algebra hands me a cup of who knows what as my reward.

“Hey there beautiful,” a husky voice greets from behind me.

I spin around and kind of become dizzy from the action but catch myself.

It’s Billy.

“Hey hottie,” I smirk.

He snickers and closes the space between us to whisper in my ear. “How about you and I go somewhere a little more private?”

That’s a nice thought. He is cute. His ass could have its own zip code. Plus, he has no shirt on under that leather jacket, hello washboard like abs. His California tanned skin glistens under a thin layer of sweat. Damn, he’s a human Ken doll.

He’s no Steve though. Wait… what? I don’t think of Steve like that. Why would I think that? Um, yeah, that’s a no! Then again, Steve is always there for me. Sometimes it can be annoying how he’s always there. It means he cares but I don’t want to dump all of my drama on him. Then, he gets upset when I don’t open up. I hate it when I hurt him. I love him so much that when he’s in pain so am I.

“Okay,” I blurt out without truly thinking.

“Cool,” I hear him whisper as he takes my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs across the room.

Wait, what? What am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t like Billy. He treats Steve like shit. If anything I should kick his pretty ass. Though if I tried he’d probably murder me.

I glance down at his hand engulfing mine. It’s all rough and twice the size of my own. If we make it upstairs, it’ll be just him and I. I’ll be defenseless. I may be drunk but I’m not oblivious. My intuition is still working and it’s screaming for me to pull my shit together.

“Hey Billy? I don’t think…” I press my heels into the floor, slowing him down just as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

Aggressively, he whips around and purposefully towers over me to act intimidating. “What? Now, you’re saying no? Are you messing me? Playing with me!” He accuses.

I shake my head dramatically, “no! No, that’s not what-”

“Oh, so you still want to do this,” he presses.

Too impatient for an answer, he continues up the stairs. The grip he has on me has shifted up to my wrist. I attempt to tug myself free but fear dislocating it, his strength is too great. I stumble up the stairs behind me and I startle to feel dizzy. I think it’s safe to say I’ve had too much.

“No,” I whine, “I don’t want to! Stop! Please! I don’t want to! No!”

“Hey!” A booming voice echoes from the bottom of the stairs.

Rapid footsteps approach from behind me and a rush of relief consumes me when Steve appears beside me. He places a protective hand on my back.

“What the hell is going here?” He directs at Billy, taking note of his fist wrapped around my wrist.

“Nothing that concerns you, Harrington. Y/N and I were just heading upstairs.” He jolts his hand forward, causing me to traveling with it.

Steve instantly pries Billy’s hand from my body. Then, shoves him in the back, flying him forward to land with his ass on the stairs. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me?!” He sneers. His face turns this deep red as he pants angrily.

The two start bickering but I can’t keep up. I see three Steves and a couple Billys shouting in each other’s faces. I lean against the railing unsteadily and slide down to sit on the steps. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” I announce to no one in particular.

I decide to get some rest and shut my eyes. It’s okay, Steve’s here. He’ll protect me.

I’m not sure how much time has past when I hear Tommy and some of the other basketball boys come to break up the fight.

“Come on Y/N,” I hear Steve whisper to me, “let’s get you home.”

Feeling as light as a feather, I’m picked up like a sleepy child off the ground. For a moment, I fall asleep again. I rest my head on his chest and ponder the rare opportunity to sleep without being afraid of being eaten by a monster.

“Y/N?” I hear someone repeatedly call my name. “Y/N, wake up!”

I ease open my eyes and at first my vision is blurry but then they eventually adjust. Steve glances down at me as he we cross the threshold hold to the front yard.

“You smell like sunshine and all things exquisite,” I mumble to myself, adjusting myself in his arms to curl closer to his warmth.

“Even when hammered you still manage to be a walking thesaurus,” he teases.

Opps, he heard me. Oh well, I wasn’t lying. He smells like vanilla, the ocean, sugar, spice, and everything nice.

Goosebumps course over my skin as a brisk October breeze hits me. I shiver slightly and Steve holds me closer.

“We’re almost to my car. I’ll turn on the heat high. You’re okay,” he promises calmly.

Playing the hero, Steve places me into the passenger seat gently and straps me in. I toss my head to the side and rest my eyes again. He shuts the door for me before jogging to the driver’s side. The car drowns out the sound of chaos coming from the party and creates a sense of security. Steve slides behind the wheel and for some reason I choose now to act reasonable.

“Have you been drinking? If so, you shouldn’t drive,” I state like a health textbook.

He chuckles, popping in the keys. “I’m sober. Promise.”

“That’s nice. Good to know,” I yawn.

The last thing I can remember of the ride home is Steve turning on the car.

______________________________________

I wake up silently as Steve pulls up in front of my house. He’s unaware of my stare as he finishes parking and turning off the car.

“Hazel,” I tell him, announcing my woken state.

He looks to me with scrunched eyebrows, all confused. It’s cute when he does that. He’s cute. Geez, what the heck am I saying? He’s dating my best friend! Steve is Steve and Katherine, we don’t mix, at least that way.

“What?” He questions, turning to face me.

“Your eyes… they’re hazel…” I repeat softly with a yawn. “But, it really depends on the lighting.”

He snickers, and astonished expression blesses his features. The subtle blush forming on his cheeks makes me smile to see him all bashful because of my comment. He has no idea how gorgeous we truly is, inside and out. He glances down at his lap, at his hands fidgeting with a button on his jacket, then back up at me with hooded eyes.

“See, right now!” I point out, “they’re a dark brown like a burnt caramel, basically black. When you’re really focused on a task or upset about something, they go dark. Then, when you’re really happy or excited, they turn to a light hazel… like seaglass. It’s how I can tell if something’s bothering you. You don’t even have to tell me half the time. All I have to do is look into your eyes and I know,” I state a matter-of-factly with a light snicker.

I shift you see him directly and tuck a few strands of my hair away from my face. He watches my every move patiently, eagerly, for me to say something more, anything. I can’t speak for him but my heart won’t stop racing. Is it possible to have stage fright in a conversation? I feel like a mannequin, on display. Nervously, I twirl my hair at the ends and find myself unable to meet his gaze anymore.

“Your pupils are rarely small,” I add quietly. “They’re usually really big and take up most of your eye giving off the illusion they’re black. One thing that never changes is…” I make a circle with my finger in front of my eye to demonstrate, “is the gold rim around each of them.” I lower my hand into my lap and play with the end of my sweatshirt. “That’s my favorite part… ” I confess timidly.

I wouldn’t be saying these things if I were sober. I wish he would say something, anything. He must think I’m crazy. He finds me with Billy heading up stairs. I can only imagine what he must think of me now. Embarrassed beyond belief and sobering up, I excuse myself.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle myself. “See you Monday!”

Swiftly, I climb out of the car. As I walk toward my front door, I curse myself for acting so stupid! Geez, what was I thinking? ‘The gold rim around each of them, that’s my favorite part!’ What kind of mushy, guhsy, marshmallow fluff is that? Ew! If he never spoke to me again I would judge that as completely reasonable! He has a girlfriend! He’s taken! Completely off limits! Why did I spew out this creepy nonsense to him like a total idiot? I’m not some lovesick teenage girl! I’m going to go to my room, put in some Guns N’ Roses, and just scream into my pillow all weekend! It sounds like an excellent plan to me because I just ruined my friendship with Steve forever! Add Nancy to that list because once he fills her in on what I said I’ll lose both of them!

“Y/N!” He calls after me.

I ignore it as I march faster toward the door. He’s only going to call me crazy because I was acting crazy!

“Y/N, wait!” He repeats as I hear him shut the car door and run toward me.

“Goodnight, Steve!” I urge him away without turning around.

His footsteps speed up until they come to a halt directly behind me. I reach for the door handle, my freedom. Desperately, he grips my forearm and steps in front of me, blocking the front door.

“Look, could you just slow down for a sec?” He yells at me as he pants to catch his breath.

“No! I can’t slow down! I just want to go inside, get in my pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened! Alright? Now, excuse me,” I gesture for him to get out of the way.

Reluctantly, paired with an overly dramatic eye roll, he steps aside. Despite wanting his to leave, I thank him quietly for cracking open the front door slowly, making sure not to wake anyone.

“Nance and I broke up…” Steve drops on me.

My heart leaps and I stop dead in my tracks. Unsure of what to do or say, I remain still in the doorway and wait for him to say more.

“She never loved me,” he explains with a heartbroken tone. “At least… I don’t think she did…”

Shit. Please don’t tell me that, Harrington. It only makes me want you more. He’s always so close but too far out of reach. I care about him more than anything but he’ll never mine. I’m just the friend.

I spin on my heels and offer him a sympathetic smile, “would you like to come in?”

He nods, clearly miserable. I step aside, allowing him in. After shutting the door behind us, I warn him to be quiet so we don’t wake my parents. He nods slowly and slips his hand into mine. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leads the way through the moonlit house toward my room. His platonic touch is so blissful, I can only imagine what it feels like otherwise.

_________________________________

Steve and I sit on my bed in our usual positions with my record player going quietly. He lounges like a patient in therapy and me, acting as his therapist, criss-cross beside him. He explains everything. He describes how drunk Nancy got and how he followed her to the bathroom. It was there they got into a fight. She admitted feeling guilty for the loss of Barb. Then, she called all of it bullshit. Us acting like carefree teenagers, never telling Barb’s parents the truth, her love for Steve, all of it is bullshit. He asked Jonathan to take her home and that’s when he stumbled upon me and Billy.

Watching Steve relive it all and hearing the pain in his voice breaks my heart. How could Nance do this to him? I get that she’s going through something, we all are. I’m by no means normal. I’m hiding everything for Pete’s sake! I haven’t been myself for over a year. Steve was just now becoming truly happy again! He was putting on a brave face for Nancy for so long! Now, she crushed it. She crushed him.

I reach and place my hand over his as they rest intertwined on his stomach. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

“I really loved her. At least, I think I did. I don’t know anymore. I thought she loved me too.”

“I did too,” I tell him honestly.

He glances away from the ceiling down to me, “what can I do?”

I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a way I could take away his pain. Yet, I have nothing. I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure. I think you should at least talk to her.

Tomorrow, of course, when she’s sobered up. Perhaps, she was just drunk and didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t in the proper mindset.”

“So I shouldn’t take what she said to heart?”

“Well, there’s also the argument that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Does the same go for you?” He snickers.

I laugh, “sometimes.”

“So you don’t like the gold in my eyes? I thought it was your favorite part?” He smirks, turning to lay on his side and face me. My hand would’ve fallen off his hadn’t he flipped his over to catch it.

Ugh, he’s such a sneaky jerk! His cheeky smirk only grows with my silence. Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I bashfully hide my face.

“Yeah… about that…” I laugh nervously, “let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Should I forget that you also said I smell like sunshine and everything exquisite?” He adds to the torment.

I groan, tossing my head back. This must count as torture. “Preferably, yes,” I request shortly.

We share a laugh at my annoyed reaction. He’s impossible! Even he should be mopping he still manages to tease me!

A comfortable silence fills the air and I stare down at the pillow in my lap as I play with the lettering on it.

________________________________

Masterlist

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things image

158 notes · View notes

lostinthewiind · 3 years

Text

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 8

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 7

Next → Part 9

Feeling a body shift beside you, you slowly began to wake from your deep, dreamless sleep. With thin rays of sunlight shining through the crack between the curtains, you let a content, sleepy smile toy at the corners of your lips as you rolled over in Keishin's arms and came face to face with his sleeping form.

It had been over a week since you had started staying with Keishin and even though waking up beside someone every morning definitely took some getting used to, you were a little surprised by just how quickly it was beginning to feel normal. Not only that, but you never slept better than you did in Keishin's bed with his warm, calming presence beside you and strong, protective arm draped over your waist.

Eyes closed and lips slightly parted, Keishin was fast asleep. His chest rose and fell rhythmically and at some point during the night, just like every other night, his hair—which wasn't tamed by the headband while he slept—had gotten all messed up and a few strands had fallen into his face.

Whenever you woke up before him, you would always take the chance to just look at him. While he slept, he seemed completely and utterly at peace—no longer burdened by the stress of coaching volleyball, working at the store, and no doubt whatever extra problems you had brought into his life. You thought back to the time you had watched him sleeping on the couch in the back room and sighed happily; the thought of how much things had changed in such a short period of time truly putting things into perspective.

Unable to keep your hands to yourself any longer, you reached out slowly and brushed the loose strands of hair out of his face and tucked them behind his ear—the same way you had done when you two had first had sex and the same way you had done countless times since.

Keishin could sleep through a thunderstorm or the sound of you calling out his name, but as soon as he felt your fingertips graze against his cheek, his eyes fluttered open. Upon noticing he was awake, you made your touch more prominent and caressed his face.

"Good morning," you whispered, unwilling to raise your voice any more than that and ruin the soft ambiance of the early morning.

Keishin leaned into your touch and smiled softly. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you answered as you ran your thumb along his bottom lip, internally debating if you should ambush him with kisses now or wait until he had woken up a little more first. Chuckling to yourself over your own thoughts, you caught yourself staring at his lips and directed your gaze back to his eyes. "I'm just looking at you."

Keishin scoffed as he pressed a gentle kiss to your thumb. "Why?"

"Because you look so beautiful when you're asleep," you told him matter-of-factly. "Not that you don't always look beautiful," you added quickly before he could make some sort of sarcastic comment.

Keishin rolled his eyes before pulling you flush against his chest and kissing you. "You're such a sap, you know that?"

You laughed. "First, I'm dramatic. Now I'm a sap. What's next?"

"I have no idea." Keishin shrugged the best he could while lying down. "What I do know, however," he glanced at the clock, "is that we need to get up and get ready."

Following Keishin's gaze to the time, you huffed sadly when you noticed there were only five minutes left until your alarm would go off, forcing you to get ready to open the store. "Can't we just stay in bed all day?" you asked, hoping you could convince him to stay under the covers with you.

"Not unless we want to go broke and end up living under a bridge together."

You chuckled as Keishin crawled out of bed, the temptation of slapping his ass gently when he stood up almost too much but you managed to control yourself. "Together?" You grinned. "You'd stay with me even if we were both dirt poor?"

Keishin rolled his eyes playfully at your takeaway from his statement. "Of course." He collected his clothes before making his way around to your side of the bed and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But I think I like plumbing and heating too much to give them up, so let's shower and get ready."

Sitting up in bed, you cocked an eyebrow. "You want to shower together?"

Keishin flashed a devilish smirk as he headed for the bathroom. "Purely for the purpose of saving water." He disappeared into the bathroom and seconds later his boxers flew out and landed on the floor, indicating he was completely nude. "But if you hate the planet, then I guess that's on you."

Your cheeks flushed red but nevertheless, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and began removing your clothes as you approached the bathroom. "Sure," you laughed as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself and let your eyes wander over Keishin's wet, naked body as he stood under the steaming water. "If it's for the planet, how could I possibly say no?"

20 minutes of passionate kissing and soapy hands exploring every inch of each other's body later, the two of you towelled off and finished getting ready before sitting down for a quick breakfast together.

"So the volleyball team has a game today, right?" you asked Keishin as you poured milk into your bowl of cereal. Keishin nodded. "What time do you think you will be home?"

Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Probably around six or seven tonight. The game is right after school so it shouldn't run too late."

"Okay." You sat down across from him at the table. "Should we get dinner after I close up the shop?"

Keishin nodded again. "Sounds like a plan."

With a few more bites of his breakfast, Keishin was setting his dishes in the sink, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, and rushing down the stairs and out of the building to start his day.

As you listened to his footsteps stomp down the stairs, followed by the sound of the back door opening and closing to indicate that he had left, you sighed to yourself and sat back in your chair. It was then that you took a minute to think about everything; your job, your boyfriend, your living arrangements, your tattered relationship with your parents. In the span of a few months, your life had completely turned upside down, but that wasn't the part that freaked you out the most.

What really got you thinking was the fact that, even though your life had done a complete 180, you had never been happier; which led to the constant internal questioning about if you had ever really been happy before you had met Keishin at all, or if this was just a different kind of happy—a happy that only a stable, supportive significant other could provide.

Before you had the chance to get lost in your thoughts, you snapped out of it, finished your breakfast, and headed downstairs to open the shop and begin your day.

As usual, you dealt with the typical morning rush of people stopping in to grab a coffee or other various food items on their way to work or school. Once the mid-morning slump hit and the customer traffic went way down, you took the time to do some routine cleaning and inventory. By now, you were like a well-oiled machine when it came to the daily task of running the store.

Around noon, as you were finishing up stocking some shelves, the front door opened and a very well-dressed man strolled into the store. "Hello," you greeted him, standing from where you were kneeling in front of the shelves and dusting off your pants.

The man gave you a once over, eyeing you from head to toe. Without so much as an acknowledging nod, he brushed past you and toward the full-length fridges at the back.

Assuming the man just wasn't in a chatty mood, you took the empty boxes to the storage room. When you exited, the man was already standing at the front counter, impatiently tapping his foot while he held two bottles of water in his hands.

"Sorry for the wait," you apologized. "Just the waters today?"

The man just nodded and let out a grunt.

Trying not to take his dismissive attitude too seriously, you rang up his purchases and gave him the total. Instead of pulling out his wallet, however, he just gave you a dirty look.

"That's a little expensive for two bottles of water, don't you think?" he retorted.

You didn't know what to say to that, so you shrugged. "I'm sorry, I don't make the prices, sir," you told him. "I just work here."

Huffing loudly, the man fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out some bills before tossing them haphazardly onto the counter. "Fine. Don't forget my change."

Before you could open the cash register, the front doors opened again and a woman dressed in a beautiful dress with her hair done up elegantly walked in and stopped beside the man before you. "Have you paid yet?" she asked the man, who was either her boyfriend or husband based on the way she was hanging off of his arm. "I just realized I'm out of cigarettes."

"I'm just paying now," he told her, his face softer than you had seen it yet before he turned back to you and asked for the brand of cigarettes that his partner smoked.

Spinning around, you felt your stomach twist at the sight of the empty dispenser of cigarettes, meaning that you were out of the brand he had requested. Of course, the delivery for that day hadn't come in yet, making your job even harder right now.

Plastering the warmest smile on your face that you could muster, you turned back to the couple. "I apologize, but we are all out of that brand. Can I get you something else?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "No, everything else tastes like garbage."

"I see." You stepped back up to the cash register. "So just the waters then?"

The man nodded. "I guess so if your shitty little store doesn't even stock up on popular brands of cigarettes." He watched you intently as you opened the register and counted his change. "I knew we should have stopped somewhere other than this hole in the wall."

As much as you so desperately wanted to rip this man and his spoiled girlfriend a new one, you bit your tongue instead and grinned as you handed him back his change. "Here you are." You dropped the coins into his outstretched hand. "Have a wonderful day."

Neither one of them said anything in response as they turned on their heels and marched out of the store, noses turned up at everything around them. As you watched them get into their fancy car and speed away, you wondered if they treated everyone like that or just lowly corner store workers like yourself.

Trying to let the incident slide off of you like water off of a duck's back, you returned to the remaining tasks on your to-do list and tried to forget all about being treated like a second-class citizen.

As the day turned to late afternoon and the after-school and after-work rush hit, you had found your way back into your groove again.

An hour or so before closing time, and roughly around the time Keishin would be returning, you heard a pair of heels clacking against the tile floor and stood up front behind the counter only to come face-to-face with your mother. Dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, it was obvious she had just come from work, but your attention was more focused on the envelope she was holding out to you.

"This came for you the other day." She didn't even bother with a simple greeting even though it had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to her or your father.

"Oh, okay." You reached out and took the envelope from her. Turning it over, you felt your heart jump into your throat when you read that it was from the University of Tokyo.

You looked up at your mother expectantly but she waved you off. "Don't ask me what it says, I didn't open it," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "Why didn't you tell your father and me that you applied to the University of Tokyo? It's a very good school."

"Because I didn't do it for you," you said as you tucked the envelope into your back pocket. "And I certainly didn't do it to go to law school or anything you guys would approve of."

Your mother narrowed her eyes at you. "Then why did you do it?"

"To play soccer," you answered, your mind immediately going to the conversation you had had with Keishin while taking inventory together. "And because I told someone I would."

Your mother eyed you for a minute more, waiting to see if you would reach for the envelope again to open it. When you made no indication of sharing your application results with her, she hummed softly. "Well, whatever that letter says, you should take some time to seriously consider what your next step is going to be." She turned to leave but stopped halfway to the door and looked at you over her shoulder. "It's not too late to make the right choice. Think carefully before you throw your life away."

With that, your mother exited the store, leaving you with a mixed slurry of emotions and no clue how to deal with any of them.

Pulling the envelope out of your back pocket, you set it down on the counter in front of you and stared at it. Whatever was printed on the single piece of paper inside would set a course for your future . . . although you were unsure if you even still wanted the future that this piece of paper could give you.

All you wanted was to be happy, and all you knew was that Keishin gave you that.

Anything more felt like asking for too much.

Anything more felt like a gamble that wasn't worth the risk.

#piss off your parents #part 8 #haikyuu #haikyuu!!!#sexy time #haikyuu smut #lostinthewiind #reader insert #reader imagine #x reader #ukai keishin #ukai #ukai x reader

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cryptiql · 3 years

Text

riptide

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, some mildly suggestive flashbacks + detailed descriptions of drowning. as always, please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 4.9k

a/n: welcome to the sequel of smoke signals. perish :)

dabi made a mistake. the knowledge sits in the bottom of his stomach like a lump of lead; his innards twisting into a knot whenever the memory of you crosses the expanse of his sleep deprived mind. the burns under his eyes might as well be bags, but they aren't large enough to bear the weight of his guilt. it isn't much better sitting on his shoulders, but the repercussions of pain are what keep him from letting it go, and that's exactly what he wants. no—it's what he deserves. he deserves the feeling like his head is going to burst; the ache in his spine from too many hours spent hunched over himself with a bottle clutched between his shaking hands; the burning intensity from overuse of his quirk. the extra inches of marred skin serve as reminders of what he did, but it's not half as satisfying when the pain doesn't last.

he wants to scratch at the wounds until they ooze that bitter garnet liquid; until he's suffocated by the metallic scent and forced to endure as the taste of blood engraves itself on his tongue when he chokes on it. he wants to suffer—the slower the better—because not even the strongest alcohol can cleanse his sins, nor the stench of his regret.

dabi made a mistake. it won't be the last time, he's able to admit, because his ego is too shriveled from the lack of your warmth, and his heart yearns for the passion of your kiss that still lingers on his lips. when the loft echoes with fragments of the city's ambience, drowning him in an incessant racket, he longs for the lighthouse. this place is infested with selfish ingrates, scuttling about in search of the next outcast to torment, and it makes him wish he still had that safe space at the shore. your siren song was a drug to put him at ease, and now he is without it, and the withdrawal has taken effect.

he knew this would come to pass. dabi overdosed on your love; your affection; your everything; all while watching the consequences unravel at a snail's pace, almost as if he were being teased by the inevitable end. he let it happen. he did this to himself, so he won't shake his hands at the sky, cursing gods he doesn't know exist; as if they would concern themselves with the faults of men like him.

he knew this would happen.

but then, so did you. you had to have known by the empty space in your bed where he used to lay; by the dates that kept getting postponed and the meaningless promises made to make up for them; by the shortage of visits, even just to say "hello" before he dropped from the face of the earth once more. if this were true, it meant that you were suffering just the same—nay, more than him, by forcing yourself into a state of compliance whenever he told you it was time for him to go. dabi could pretend like he didn't see your fingers twitching; resisting the urge to reach out for him; just as he could pretend like the rivulets of tears on your cheeks did not exist, though they begged to be swept away by him. god, he wants to hold your face again, noses brushing together and your dreamy sighs melding with his raspy laughter.

he had told himself that you wouldn't deter him from his goal, but even that seems like a pipe dream now. he feels like an underachiever, chasing a future that can't be set in stone when he already had you, which should have been enough. dabi realizes that the flames of his own passionate desire for freedom have burned you in the process, and it hurts more than he can put into words. you were always better with words, he reminisces, tracing the coffee stained parchment sitting in his pocket.

dabi has long since stopped reading the letters you sent, but he still carries them with him wherever he goes. they anchor him to both earth and sky; the reality that he's lost you, threatening to swallow him from under his feet; and the hope that he'll find you again, one day, after all this is over. "and just what do you think you're doing?"

you can see his reflection in the stove's glass sheen, his mouth drawn up into a devious smirk as he leans on the bedroom doorframe, clad in nothing but his briefs from the previous night. the purplish burns scaling his collarbone and abdomen give him a roguish look that—if you possessed no self-restraint—would normally have you lunging at him like a starved beast. you manage to smirk back at him, subtly shaking your hips while opening the stove door to pull out the doughy mound of bread inside. to your delight, you hear him grumble something not-so family-friendly before he snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. you had never once thought that the feeling of staples against your skin would feel so good, but now you can hardly imagine being without it, and you immediately melt into dabi's touch.

he breathes softly in your ear, chuckling when you flinch in response, goosebumps stippling your flesh. by the way your cheeks puff out in embarrassment, he should take that as a sign to stop, but fuck, your pouting is just too cute for him to resist, especially when your worship-able body is basking in the afterglow of dusk. you keen when dabi starts peppering your shoulder blades with kisses, but nearly dropping the pan causes your senses to return, and you whisper a plea. luckily, he appears to be in a merciful mood, because he relents his onslaught of affection to rest his chin in the crook of your neck.

when he finally notices what you're making, he can't help but squeeze you tighter.

"is that a cake?"

you turn to give him a peck on the nose, which is rewarded with a halfhearted snap of his teeth just millimeters from your mouth.

"that'd be right. though, i'm astonished you know which way is up after last night." your sing-song tone of voice spurs him to squeeze your thigh, and you would have shooed him away if not for how much you liked it. dabi murmurs something unintelligible, the vibrations shooting straight down your spine, and proceeds to remove himself from you in order to better observe the baked delicacy.

"mm. what's it for?" he asks, discretely swiping a bit of the pink colored icing from the bowl to his right. sweet, but not sickeningly so.

you are none the wiser when dipping a spatula into the contents and smoothing it over the cake, a soft smile playing at your lips.

"you never told me when your birthday is, so i'm taking a wild guess. figured i'd whip this up as a surprise, but you woke up earlier than i suspected." dabi swears that his heart is about to burst from behind his ribcage, and all because you're too goddamn perfect. you may as well be a priceless work of art in museum that he's been prohibited from touching. however, the fading marks on your skin signify that he's done more than just touch, and he takes pride in the fact you can't seem to move further than two steps in any direction without faltering.

"i know angel food cake is your favorite—" dabi silences you with a kiss; bruising and passionate; and takes the spatula from your hand, blindly setting it aside on the counter. your protests are short-winded as he lifts you from your behind before promptly turning the oven off and spinning on his heel. he's memorized these halls well enough to not bump into anything during his trek back to the bedroom. you pull away, albeit with a hint of reluctance, just to glare at him.

"what about the—" dabi kisses you again, and while you don't seem too happy about being interrupted twice in a row, the shared heat between your bodies distracts you from being upset.

"you're off by about two months, doll. besides, i think i'd much rather have you as a late birthday treat."

dabi clenches his jaw at the memory, his knuckles whitening with how tenaciously he grips the tattered fabric of his jeans. the league's new base is just as rundown and close to crumbling as he feels, but his despair is masked by the rage that overpowers it. why couldn't you have been a normal couple? why couldn't dabi have grown up with a father who loved him; with a quirk that didn't gradually destroy him and without the resulting scars that made him a hideous monster in the eyes of all who saw him? why couldn't he be as beautiful on the inside as you said he was on the outside? why couldn't he just be happy, after all this time?

why? why? why?

dabi finds his answer hidden in the ashen battleground strewn with rubble and remnants of burnt remains. he finds it in the fear of his victims' expressions before the snare of death claims them in a flourish of blue inferno. it's written there in bold, ichor dripping from his fingers as they smear the message with red.

the privilege of living a normal life is, and always will be, beyond his reach. murder does not warrant mercy, and the only person willing to give it to him is miles away, still desperate for him to come back.

as fate would have it, you and dabi lived worlds apart, but you still look at the same sunset; the same array of stars forming constellations that told stories of your life shared together. they replay in his head like a record stuck on repeat, and only when the song ends does he find himself back in the clutches of his childhood trauma, rather than your embrace.

"dabi? dabi!" his trademark scowl automatically takes place when a finger prods and pulls at his cheek, the familiar voice of twice shaking him from his deep contemplation. jin has been so unfortunate as to suffer minor scorches from the ravenette's flames, on account of him being too bothersome at the wrong moments, and so he instantly backs away at the first indication of danger brewing in the air around him. with how on edge he's felt lately, he really should have gone on a walk to relieve some stress, but the looming knowledge that he can't go to the lighthouse would only ruin the trip.

dabi is fully prepared to smack jin's hand away until he sees what he's holding. he'd recognize that handwriting anywhere, and even without it, the scent of saltwater and freshly baked bread clings to the paper, altering him of yet another one of your efforts to communicate with him. dabi feigns indifference towards the object; quite the contrary to his thinning patience as twice waves it above his head excitedly.

"you've got mail! who's is from? probably a useless nobody! or maybe a secret admirer? but who would admire you?"

to his dismay, the commotion has grabbed toga's attention, and she veers over to their location with a giddy grin on her face. she all but drapes herself over dabi as he snatches the letter from jin, and it doesn't help his struggle when she clings to him like a koala. after a bout of kicking and shoving, he manages to break free of her grasp, grimacing at her lengthy, high-pitched whines of disapproval.

"and can you believe hawks was the one to deliver it? i didn't take him for a carrier bird. . ."

dabi doesn't hear the rest, nor does he intent to, because he's already making his way to the nearest exit with haggard breaths. whoever calls out for him and whatever they say are the last of his concerns right now, and they're abruptly cut off when he slams the door behind him. the summer heat wills beads of sweat to paint his forehead, but he soon finds comfort under the shade of a tree, cicadas buzzing noisily overhead. he would sooner keel over and die than thank the birdbrain hero for catering to him—and by extension, you—but now that the note is there, begging to be read, he can't help but feel some sort of gratitude.

"i need you to do something for me."

the bristles of hawks' feather hover over dabi's pulse in a threatening manner, but he feels no more in peril than he would at the cruelty of a baby chick. he knows the number two hero won't harm him, at least not without regretting it later, and this is the perfect time to use that to his advantage. hawks narrows his eyes at him, nose wrinkling in accord.

"why would i do anything for you after that stunt you pulled?" he snarls, and dabi almost has to laugh at the drastic switch in personality. the way he presents himself to the public is a true contrast compared to the persona only he and the league have had the pleasure of seeing.

"because if you don't, everyone will know you've been fraternizing with the enemy, and we wouldn't want number two falling off his high pedestal, now would we?"

this time, dabi audibly laughs when hawks' guise wavers. the other grits his teeth, slowly withdrawing the feather and allowing it to fall limp at his side. he revels in his victory, short though it be, and reaches into his pocket to procure a letter marked with your name and address. putting your location at the disposal of a hero isn't something he's proud of doing, but it's all he has left, and he doesn't have the resolve to tell you directly.

coward, his conscious mocks as he holds it out for hawks to take. the winged man stares at it with befuddlement, his movements stalling here and there when he seizes the paper between his thumb and pointer finger. dabi tuts lightly but menacingly, yanking hawks towards him by the wrist and igniting his quirk to leave a faint mark there.

"you're gonna deliver this for me, no questions asked. don't you dare open it."

despite the clear uncertainty, hawks took heed of the ominous demand and carried it out later that night. he had not expected a young man with tear-stained cheeks to greet him at the door, much less the endless babble of 'thank you's as you took the letter with shaking hands.

dabi hadn't wished for you to send one back, but the ongoing stream of them was considered fair, after he'd left without much of a trace. still, he had promised himself that he would never read them, for fear of it opening the wound inflicted by having to say goodbye.

dabi can't understand the sudden change of mind for the life of him, and yet, he finds that he doesn't care whether it opposes every rule he set to keep you safe—to keep himself safe. he tears open the envelope and slumps against the tree trunk, bark and leather grating together as he hesitantly unfolds the parchment, briefly shutting his eyes as a last act of resistance to the helpless cry from within; longing for the familiarity of your poetic words. instead of the delicate precision that was to be anticipated, dabi stared down at your messy scrawl, a carnal fear rising from within and causing his throat to clamp up. the memories begin to flash at a faster rate, like an old-timey picture film. dabi has just finished putting the kettle on to boil when hears the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of your slippers shuffling across the floor. he snickers, remembering that the only pair you have is the one he bought you; a well worn match that looks oddly like cloud bunnies. you've made sure to exemplify how much you love the gift by wearing them around the house on rainy or lazy days, all paired with a wistful smile. this morning is no different as you worm your way under dabi's hold and press your face into his chest, a satisfied groan escaping you when he cards his fingers through your hair and scratches the scalp.

the robe you wear is half-hanging from your shoulders, which makes for an enticing view from where dabi stands, but he simply kisses the crown of your head and continues waiting for the pot to simmer.

"did you hear that noise?" you slur, just barely discernable over the kettle's shrieking. dabi quirks a brow in question as you rub the leftover grogginess from your eyes, tiredly nodding at the back window.

"little past midnight, i think. coulda sworn i heard somethin' rifling around in the trash." dabi squints at this new information while eyeing your appearance. the dark circles and intermittent yawning indicate a lack of sleep, and if he weren't there to keep you steady, you might collapse onto the floor as a snoring heap. if it really disturbed him, he should have woken me up, he thinks, pulling you closer with an ever-deepening frown. you snuggle up to him as if it's second nature, sleepily giggling away when his digits stray too close to your side.

"s'probably raccoons, but if you're worried, i can stay longer just to make sure." you look up at him with nothing short of pure, unbridled adoration, cupping his face and squishing it gently, to your own entertainment. after a moment of consideration, you shake your head.

"nah, you're probably right."

the feeling hits dabi like a tidal wave, dragging him below the raging surface; far below where the light of day cannot touch. it suffocates him and brings rise to the sickening taste of bile on his tongue, but he doesn't have time to spare in throwing it all up, so he swallows it. withered patches of grass crunch under his feet as he peels himself from the tree and breaks into a dash, sparing your letter the flames fueled by his anguish as to let it drift in the breeze, the single sentence written on it already engraved in his mind.

it wasn't raccoons.

dabi doesn't care what shigaraki will have to say about this when he gets back. the only thing he cares about is that you'll still be alive to say anything to him when he reaches you, and that whoever has invaded your home is willing to die for what they've done, or what they're currently doing, and fuck—he isn't even sure if this is you calling for help or not, but he can't risk being right.

the distance between the base and the lighthouse feels lightyears apart, yet simultaneously at arms length when dabi is running at speeds he hasn't ever been able to achieve before. if he stumbles at any point during his sprint, or if he happens to bump into an unsuspecting civilian on the street, he doesn't notice. the resonant thumping of his own heartbeat is all that he can hear as he thanks the gods for the flow of traffic being so spaced out, otherwise it would be near impossible for him to reach you in time.

in time for what? he has to ask. dabi doesn't even want to think about the repercussions, but the scenarios arrive in rivulets despite the mental trapeze he goes through to push them down, and they only continue to grow into oceans; darker, colder and harboring thoughts too gruesome for even someone of his caliber to handle. he won't realize until much later that he'd forgotten to put on his disguise, but the way people ogle at him with fear and disgust does not suppress the need to protect you.

even now, he can sense the pressure building behind his eyes, though it's more painful that it used to be. dabi hasn't cried in months, and it shows by how unabating the rivers of blood trickle from his skin grafts, despite his feverish attempts to stop them. look at yourself, holding together by a thread and weeping in public like a child whose lost his mother in the crowd. it wouldn't have come to this if he had stayed.

something shifts in the scenery; a distinct line drawn between the city and its neighboring countryside; but it makes no difference to the impending peril that looms ahead. the closer he gets, the sooner he'll find you waiting for him, dead or alive. dabi staggers, his breath hitching at the thought, as well as the harsh sting of pain that erupts when his knee collides with the gravel below. he pushes himself forward in little time, a strangled yell ripping his throat raw as his vision settles on the top of the lighthouse, peeking over the hillside. you have to be there—you just have to. he isn't done with you yet, and you're sure as hell not done with him.

the earth is damp beneath his feet, and it soaks through the canvas of his shoes whilst he darts past the boulevard and onto your property, crying out to you. surely, you must hear him. surely—

dabi practically hurls himself at the front door, his blood running cold when it opens for him effortlessly and swings ajar to reveal the living room, upturned and scattered with broken bits and pieces of furniture. there's no sign of you or whoever did this. the oakwood flooring groans under his weight as he barrels down the hall, peering into every room, beneath your bed and any other place where you could be hiding. nothing. his search ends in vain at the front doorstep, where he stands hunched over and dry heaving. no, no, no. you can't be gone.

"y/n!" he shouts. his only response is the crashing of waves against the shore and the incessant cawing of seagulls. for a moment, dabi forgets how to breathe, and then the ability returns to him; his legs aching horribly as he rushes to the beach. the arrangement of rocks is sporadic at first, but they gradually form large clumps the further he carries on, urging him to squeeze between the narrower openings. it comes with some difficulty, but at last he is able to hobble onto the sandy coast and rest his sights upon the vast sea. he can recall when seeing its murky blue sea would have put him at ease, but now it only causes his senses to be clouded with distress.

"y/n!" the once calm ripples rise into rolling billows that drench the shoreline in frothy heaps of algae, wreckage and blood. it curls and disbands within the ocean to pollute its cerulean hues with ones of scarlet red, and just like that, dabi's heart sinks like the titanic. he'll never forget the sight of you, face-down in the water; your favorite shirt slashed to shreds, clinging to your body as nothing more than a tattered mess. dabi wades into the water until it reaches his ankles, completely numb to its freezing temperature as he sinks down to hoist you up. he rests you on his thighs and presses his lips onto yours with urgency, shortly pulling back so that he can thrust his palms upon your chest and push. he doesn't care to remember how many times he repeats this, but when he finally sits back on his haunches to release a stifled curse, the feeling of dread has only just begun to take control.

you've never looked so pale.

a guttural sob wrenches itself past his grinding teeth as more tears arise, dappling your cheeks like raindrops. it wracks his body and sends forth a surge of agony to course through his veins. dabi cups your face with a shaking hand, the other secured around your waist while he kisses you, his erratic pleas falling upon deaf ears.

"come back. . .come back." his bawling ceases to end, no matter the abrasive pain blossoming in his gullet.

"c'mon, doll. where's that sweet voice of yours?" his thumb strokes your bottom lip as though beckoning you to speak. when nothing follows, he makes a pathetic sniveling sound mixed with something broken; a blubber or whine, he does not know. the burden of your lifeless form causes the reality to set in; a dagger piercing his insides and twisting as to drag the most blood-curdling screams from him.

dabi loved you, and he wishes he had the strength to say it when you were still there. it was only within the presence of his own demons that he was able to utter his affections; curled into himself and waiting for a reply that would never come, carried on the wind that bit his skin. he loved you because you held him like a child when his father hadn't even the heart to acknowledge him as his own. you spoke his name—his real name—as though the blood on his hands was not there; like you had washed it away yourself through acts of tenderness that he did not deserve.

and now you're gone.

you're gone, and—

dabi's entire body jolts with a start, a familiar heat dancing across the grafts of his marred skin. a faint blue glow radiates from his fists, which are tightly fastened the weighted blanket that lays crumpled atop his legs. he lets go with a shuttering gasp, observing the black smudges that reside where his flames once were, then blinking owlishly at his surroundings. the room is shrouded in darkness, all save for the bedside table to the left of him that is dimly lit by a flickering oil lamp. that, and the spaces illuminated by the moon's brilliance, showering the floor with multicolored spots as it glistens through the stained glass window. something slots into place, but all it does is send dabi's mind into overdrive.

where is he? where are you? are you really dead? everything hurts.

his nails drag down the length of his arms, seeking some sort of comfort in the pain that blooms there. it doesn't last long, however, when the bed suddenly dips, and a soothing warmth is placed on the small of his back.

"touya?" you croak, your words lingering with the remnants of sleep. dabi—no—touya, swears that he could cry again, right then and there. his eyes flit over your torso, where several scars in varying sizes have desecrated the skin. as he idly traces the pink lines, one final memory surfaces from the depths of his subconscious. him, desperately pounding your sternum; the last threads of denial snapping in tune; and you, coughing and spewing both curses and whatever seawater that had clogged up your lungs. touya held you in that same position for hours, listening as your ragged wheezing turned into hiccupping sobs. hauling you inside had been no easy feat, and having to hear your muffled groans while he stitched you up by the crackling hearth was no better, but the evening after had been pleasant.

you could not recollect the face of the intruder, and with such little information to go off of, touya was left to wallow in self-loathing for love he had almost lost. no amount of therapy could prevent the following nightmares and panic attacks, but in time, the rekindling of your relationship was proved successful, and dabi was prepared to repay you for the moments where you consoled him.

it wasn't just a dream. it had all happened, and yet here you were, alive and well.

a pensive look crosses your features when you note how quiet touya is, and you take it as a sign to break the tension with a tried-and-true method from the past. he doesn't resist as you coo softly, pulling him under the covers and wrapping yourself around him, a garbled tune fleeing from past your lips before you press them to his shoulder. you trail the faintest of butterfly kisses along his neck, his jaw, his cheeks and so on. the anxiety coiled in touya's chest starts to untangle, leaving him as a trembling bundle of nerves in your arms as you shush him, your nimble fingers carting through his hair.

if he weren't so tired, he would have laughed at how the tables have turned; with you cradling him in the way he's so used to doing. still, not even he can deny that it feels nice to be held like this.

"s'alright sweetheart. i'm here. . ." you whisper, and the effect is instantaneous. touya stills as he inhales the scent of buttercream and fresh pine that wafts into the bedroom, his eyelids fluttering shut. all he can hope for is that your presence will drive away any nightmares that foreshadow his well-needed rest, and that when he wakes up in the morning, you'll still be at his side.

dabi made a mistake, and thousands more will come to pass, because underneath the grit and grime that makes up his callous exterior, there is a human being; struggling to survive and struggling to please, just as much as the next. but he'll never leave you again. he had promised you as such with the band of gold now encircling your ring finger, and as long as he lives, he'll never break it.

#⛓.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #touya todoroki x male reader #my hero x reader #my hero x y/n #boku no hero x reader #x male reader #bnha x you #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi imagine

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mikkomacko · 3 years

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Sweet As Honey 18

Hello everyone! Here she is! Thank you all so much for being so patient with me and this chapter. I hope it lives up to the hype and the wait lol. I'd also like to say that I will still be writing and finishing this series as well as my other in progress ones. However, I'm currently feeling like I'm not that interested in Harry right now and I feel like it's mostly all the drama and everything going on with him right now so updates will be slow. Also I've changed my theme to a Marvel x One Direction theme because I've decided to take one of my Bucky Barnes plot and actually publish it. I'll still post Harry because of course I love him but he won't be the main focus of this blog anymore.

Thanks for waiting and reading. Hope you enjoy the chapter! X

Harry's good under pressure. At least looking from the outside in, he is. It's a skills he's picked up from boxing. Always pretend you know what's going on. No surprises, no shocks. If he's in a fight and his opponent is stronger or faster than he originally thought, he doesn't show it. Acting like it was expected, like he planned it rattles others and helps him maintain his grace.

He keeps that same approach when it comes to interviews.

Liam meets him outside the gym, waving with a bright smile that Harry just smiles at, shocked to find his trainer in the parking garage rather than the ring.

"What's going on mate?" Harry greets, trying to step around him to get to the stairs but Liam halts him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Gotta reporter here who wants to chat with you about recovering from your concussion and reaching the finals."

His tone is laced with hesitance, lips pursed in suppressed grimace and Harry doesn't blame him. Liam knows how much Harry hates interviews. They're his least favorite part of the job. He's here to box and get paid, to provide for his family, not to tell the world every detail of his life.

"Oh," Harry mumbles, shrugging and stepping up to the door. "Alright. Only for a few minutes though, wanna get home a little early today."

If Liam is surprised by Harry's ease he doesn't show it. "Got something going on?"

Harry follows Liam inside, nodding to Mark at the front desk. "Y/n has just been exhausted lately and Arlo can't spend a second alone without screaming bloody murder. Just want to be there to make sure she's resting and Arlo's not being a pest."

"He's your son, of course he's being in a pest."

The comment leaves too much pride in Harry's chest for him to even care that Liam just insisted he himself is a pest. Besides, Harry knows he's clingy and a little too attached but that's just how his relationship with y/n is, and they love it.

In his private locker room,Harry finds the reporter, a young girl who can't be too far out of undergrad with dark hair and a bright red lips. She's sat on the bench, a notepad on her thigh and her phone resting next to it.

"Hello Mr. Styles." She greets, shaking his hand when he approaches her. "I'm Rebecca Weese."

Harry takes a seat next to her, nodding. "Nice to meet you. I don't have a lot of time today but I can answer a few of your questions if we can make it quick." He smiles guiltily, hoping to not come off as rude.

She nods, immediately glancing down at her notepad and crossing some things out. Harry assumes they're questions she's decided aren't important enough. "Is it ok if I record this? Just sound of course."

Again, he nods, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie as he waits for her to begin. Tapping at her phone, she places it between them to catch both voices and then scans her notes again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you've only been boxing for a few years, right?"

Harry shrugs. "I trained a lot when I was teenager, worked under Ted until he decided to bring me up to the pros. Was about 20 I think when that happened." He tries to stay vague, knowing he can't tell the public that his "training" was an illegal boxing ring.

"Five-Six years is a short amount of time to be included in a tournament like this one. Most contenders are well into their careers before being qualified to participate. What do you think has been the main factor in your success?"

Routine question, and he's got a routine answer. "I was fortunate enough to figure out early on that boxing is what I wanted to do and I think that helped out a lot. I also got a very good team behind me. My trainer, manager, my wife, they're all the main factors in my success. I'm very grateful to have them."

Rebecca smiles a bit, jotting down a few words. "Does your wife work in the industry?"

It's her casual tone, as if she were a friend just wanting to hear him brag about his lover that has him answering so honestly.

"No she works in design but I met her early in my career and she's always supported me. Takes care of me after bad matches and whatnot, always comes to my fights even if it means being on her feet for hours. Which isn't exactly her favorite thing at the moment with the baby-"

Harry stops, eyes widening a bit at what he's just revealed. Part of him wishes desperately that Rebecca didn't hear him but he knows that's impossible.

"I didn't know you're a father," she says kindly, sensing his panic. "Do you want to talk about it more or should I scratch that part?"

He doesn't know what makes him say it. A year ago he'd have fled the room if he were questioned about his family. Harry likes to keep them separate, to keep his kids away from his boxing. It's possibly a small part of him that's conditioned to keep his work a secret from his family even if he doesn't have to. But Rebecca's offer to drop the whole topic is what breaks him.

"S'ok," he says "I've got a son that's about a year old and another on the way."

Her eyes light up, beaming at him and he grins shyly but somehow proudly at the same time. "That's awesome. Congrats. I know your son's young but does he have any part in your career? Influence maybe?"

"He doesn't watch any of my fights or anything. Too young to be around violence like that but he does affect my fighting in a way. I used to go into boxing with just the mentality that I'm doing something I love, but now I've got the added success. A win means more support for my family and I want them to always have what they need so I've got sort of an edge there."

"Like having something to fight for?" She confirms, and Harry nods immediately.

"Yeah. I'd do anything for them and I think that makes me a bit dangerous in the ring."

No matter what, he'll always be fighting for them. Everything he does is for y/n and his boys.

The house smalls of tomato sauce and pasta when Harry walks in, mouth instantly watering and stomach rumbling. He had a light breakfast this morning before going to the gym and now that's he burnt off all that energy he reckons he could eat a horse. Dropping his keys on the table in the entryway, toeing off his sneakers, and dropping his gym bag to the floor, Harry makes a beeline for the kitchen. He's so caught up in wanting to eat he doesn't notice the TV playing a Disney movie or the two figures sprawled out on the couch until one of them is calling for him.

"Daddy!" Arlo's head pops up over the cushions, dimples sunk into his cheeks and eyes bright. Harry immediately changes course, coming up behind the couch and meeting Arlo's outstretched arms.

"'Ello bug," Harry greets, smacking a kiss to his cheek. Arlo coos happily, curling up against Harry's shoulder. Y/n is watching them with a small smile, a hand resting easily over the stretched fabric of his tee-shirt she's wearing. "And hello darling." He leans over the back of the couch to press a crooked kiss to her lips.

"Hi baby," she sits up, smiling dreamily at him. "How was the gym?"

Harry shrugs, adjusting Arlo on his hip. "Was good. I had an interview today about finals and....stuff." Her eyebrow quirks up at his hesitancy to continue.

"What stuff?"

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Harry drops his gaze to Arlo. "You, Arlo, the baby." She doesn't respond immediately and he knows it’s because she’s trying to analyze him. He's fairly private about his family, especially his children and the only reason he'd informed the world of Arlo was to get people off his back about leaving y/n, so he knows she's probably confused by his ease with talking about the new baby.

"How'd it go?" She asks, pushing herself up from the couch with a hand on her belly. Without hesitation Harry reaches out to place his free hand over hers, moving her with him towards the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"M'starving darling," he says and his stomach grumbles in agreement, making Arlo gurgling back and nudge his foot into Harry's tummy. "But interview went well. Announced the pregnancy."

"You did?" She questions, perching herself on the counter stool with wide eyes. "Seems a bit early compared to Arlo's announcement."

Managing as best he can with one free hand, Harry retrieves a bowl from the cabinet and serves himself a heaping mountain of spaghetti. "Just came out if m'being honest," he shrugs, settling into the stool next to her with Arlo still glued to his lap. "'sides it's different this time. He was my first baby and I was scared."

He doesn't realize that she's fallen silent until he's slurping back noodles and she doesn't scold him. Curiously, Harry rotates just enough to look at her. Y/n is staring at him, eyes big and moony when he mumbles a suspicious "wha'?"

"You were scared?"

Swallowing down his food, he nods. Her intent gaze brings a blush to his cheeks and he has to drop his eyes to peer down at Arlo. "Y-yeah. Didn't know if he'd like me as his dad, ya know?"

Harry's never said those words out loud, now that he's come to think of it. Whenever something's pertained to Arlo, Harry was always the positive reinforcement, the one reassuring y/n about them stepping into parenthood. He never really told her how much it scared him because he didn't want to scare her.

"I-I didn't know that," she mumbles. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugs, lifting his gaze from Arlo to y/n. "Because I wanted to be a good dad. Ya know, like the kind that can kill spiders and scare aware bad dreams.....Just wanted to be strong I guess."

He doesn't say it, but he knows she's picked up the fear he won't acknowledge. He doesn't want to be his dad. His father was great but the sad thing is, everything great about him was brought out by alcohol. Des needed that poison to combat his own fears and insecurities, and Harry doesn't want to be like that too. He doesn't want to leave his kids the same way he was left.

"Being scared doesn't make you weak Harry."

She leans over to press a tender kiss to his jaw, belly brushing against his side, and he thinks about those words for the remainder of the day.

Crouched down, Harry steers the shopping cart with one hand and guides Arlo along with the other one. By the way he's trudging along, Harry knows Arlo is getting tired of walking. It's good for him to practice though, so Harry leads him along for another few minutes before scooping him up in one arm.

"Did so well bug." Harry compliments, pecking Arlo's cheek. The toddler curls up into his chest, yawning. It's a bit difficult steering the cart with one hand but Harry manages, steadily making his way up and down each aisle. He gets baby cereal for Arlo, a couple bags of puffy hot Cheetos to stash in the cabinets, and he's stocking up on y/n's latest craving (spaghetti-o's and meatballs) when a familiar face rounds the corner.

Zayn is pushing a cart filled groceries, eyes scanning up and down the shelves and Harry curses under his breath. The last person he wants to see right now is Zayn. Last time they had a run in he said something that bothered y/n and Harry never wants anything to bother his girl.

In an attempt to hide, Harry pulls his hood up over his head, shrinking into his pullover and craning his neck to not make eye contact with his old friend. Grabbing a few cans of the fake pasta y/n is living off of, Harry sets them in the cart and quickly walks down the aisle. A man who looks a few years older than Harry moves towards him, stepping around Zayn and in front of Harry's cart.

"Excuse me," the man stops him, gaze dropping to the boy against his chest for half a second before regretfully meeting Harry's eyes. "m'so sorry to bother, didn't notice the little one-"

"It's fine." Harry cuts off, glancing at Zayn to make sure his back is still to them. It is and Harry relaxes a bit at that, but his curiosity grows. "How can I help you sir?"

The man smiles, grateful. "I just wanted to tell you that m'son and I are big fans and we're excited for your fight this weekend."

Harry knows he has fans, he's run into a few around the city but they're usually teens and kids that want an autograph. He's never had a grown man approach him about his career and it's odd. Flattering, but odd.

"Thanks man. I really appreciate your support." Harry says sincerely, smiling. The man nods in response, taking a step away from Harry. He moves to leave but stops last minute, turning back to Harry.

"Congrats on the baby news too." He says quickly, almost shy or embarrassed. Before Harry can even thank him, the man is rushing out a "have a good day" and then he's moving down the aisle.

Confused, Harry stands there for a moment trying to figure out what happened. He knew announcing the new baby would bring more attention to him in the media and he's not surprised that that man, who's clearly a fan, had already heard it. He is surprised that the man seemed almost scared to admit to Harry that he knows.

"Harry?"

Fuck.

He looks up, meeting the golden eyes that could only belong to Zayn. Harry doesn't even bother trying to smile at his old friend as he stands in front of Harry's cart. A lady maneuvers around them, murmuring a soft "excuse me sir." Harry scoots his cart over, smiling apologetically.

"How have you been man?"

Harry's gaze returns to it's impassive expression, glancing over Zayn's too-bright presence. "I've been good." Harry responds, moving Arlo to his other arm when he starts to lose feeling in his fingers. The movement draws Arlo out of his nap-like state, the toddler now noticing Zayn standing in front of them. Immediately his face scrunches into a look of annoyance.

If Zayn notices, he must not care because he smiles at Arlo, teeth dazzling. "That's good to hear. Congratulations on the baby, by the way! Saw the article up front. S'amazing!"

Article? Harry lips are just starting to form his question when his phone rings, the tune specific to y/n. "Sorry, gotta take this." Harry says in Zayn's direction, digging into his pocket and retrieving his phone. He hits answer before Zayn can even respond.

"Hi darling."

Harry wiggles Arlo into the basket. "Hi H. You still at the store?"

He pushes the cart down the aisle, not caring that he's left his old friend hanging. "Yeah I am. What's up"

The sound of a running faucet comes through the speaker. "Forgot to add yogurt bites to the list. Arlo ate the last of 'em last night and ya know how he is if he doesn't have any before bed."

Harry snorts, steering towards the baby food aisle. Arlo has fallen in love with yogurt bites and they've become his snack before bed. Harry thinks he shouldn't be having them every night and he'd tried to tell Arlo that two nights ago, but Arlo is a stubborn thing. He screamed his head off, ignored Harry's attempts at giving him fresh fruit instead, and then only calmed down after y/n nursed him.

"I'll grab 'em darling. No worries." He assures, tossing a couple bags of the bites into the cart. "Anything else?"

"Do we still have the old flower vases from our wedding in the garage?" She asks.

"Umm, I think so. You expecting flowers from a secret lover or something?" Harry jokes, eyes catching on a pack of bibs hanging in the aisle.

"Not unless you've got a trick up your sleeve Styles." She retorts.

He tosses a pack into the basket. "Buy you a whole flower shop if that's what ya want darling." Arlo grumbles from the baby seat of the cart, tiny fingers coming up to play with the rings on Harry's fingers that are locked around the steering bar.

"Don't worry about that, we've got enough flowers." Y/n laughs and he can hear her moving around the house. "Three bouquets just arrived with congratulations cards."

"What?"

"Guess the baby announcement was well accepted." She says. "We're getting lots of flowers for it."

Pushing towards the checkout, Harry frowns in confusion. "Got stopped by a fan today for the same thing. Can't believe it's such a big deal."

"Well you're more known now than when we were having Arlo." She reasons, and Harry hums his agreement. He passes the self checkouts, freezing when he spots numerous copies of his face on the ends of the aisle.

"Holy shit," he breathes, not even thinking about the innocent ears before him. Y/n gasps through the phone, scolding him for his language. "Sorry darling, s'just I'm bloody plastered all over the grocery store."

He reads over the cover of the sports magazine. It's got a big photo of him in the ring, gloves held up to his chin and jaw tight around his mouth guard. Next to it is a photo of him and y/n leaving a big fight awhile back. She's got her head down, hand snug in his as he leads her along. And written in bold yellows is "Harry Styles Expecting Baby #2 As He Prepares for Biggest Fight Yet!"

"They put me on the front page." He tells her, not bothering to flip open the article before he's quickly moving away from the display. "Why would they do that?"

When he did that interview, he thought it'd be a small, breezy section in the magazine. If he had known he'd be getting stopped in the grocery store and flowers sent to his house he wouldn't have said anything. As previously mentioned, he's a private guy, so having this detail projected in a way he wasn't warned about makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"It's alright Harry," y/n says reassuringly, knowing that he's become anxious at the publicity. "No harm done. It's just flowers bub and as long as we've got those vases in the garage, everyone will survive."

He chuckle weakly at her joke, picking an aisle so he can quickly checkout and go home. "Don't go digging around for them by yourself, don't need ya falling and getting hurt. I'll help ya when I get home."

"Aw my hero." She coos, and he knows she's teasing but it still makes him blush. God he loves her.

"Those bloody things are making my nose itch." Harry grumbles, aggressively rubbing the palm of his hand into his burning nostrils. He glares at the bouquet of peonies on the dresser, a gift from y/n's co-workers, and moves towards the bed.

Y/n is propped up against the headboard, a pair of his pajama bottoms on her legs but her shirt has been abandoned on the carpet by the bed. Arlo is attached to her hip, mouth latched to her nipple and she's stroking through his soft hair while he breastfeeds. Harry's heart throbs in his chest, warmed by the sight of his wife coddling their baby, and he's so fucking in love with her he's anxious to get Arlo into bed so he can have his way with her.

"I can't just throw them out, H." She sighs, pulling her gaze from the television to his pouty face. He huffs, running the damp towel in his hand through his hair one last time before haphazardly tossing it towards the closet. Kneeing his way up the bed, he curls into y/n's side and smiles when she tucks her arm around him.

"Stroke my hair too?" He mumbles, peering up with puppy eyes and she giggles before threading her fingers through his hair too. Arlo gurgles around a mouthful, bright green eyes opening to look at Harry. He worries for a moment that Arlo is going to get fussy and kick him away, but the toddler just blinks at him sleepily.

"Tha's ma boy." He coos fondly, squirming a hand over to pat Arlo's full tummy. Y/n giggles and continues to stroke his hair, Harry watching Arlo slowly be soothed to sleep. "Lemme get him to bed darling."

Grunting, he pushes himself up from the mattress and too his feet. Y/n transfers Arlo to his awaiting arms, swiping at the milk that dribbled out of his snoring lips and onto her skin. Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Wanna have a shag when I get back?"

A shocked laugh bursts out of her, Harry's face lighting up at the sound as his heart swells. He was trying to be a bit silly, not enough to have her eyes crinkling like that, but he's happy she finds him funny.

"Sure baby." She breathes, still grinning. His stomach flutters, excitement bubbling in his belly and he nods quickly before moving across the room.

Arlo stays cuddled into Harry's neck as he flicks on the nightlight in the nursery and adjusts the blankets in the crib. Theo watched Harry from his bed in the corner, sleepy puppy eyes following his every move. He lays Arlo down, gently shushing him when he store and tucks Bunny into his side. With a peck to his head and a quiet "good night bug," Harry partially shuts the bedroom door and rushes back into the bedroom.

Y/n has already kicked off her bottoms, leaving her naked on their sheets and Harry groans as he works to catch up with her. His shirt is playfully tossed at y/n's grinning face, Harry laughing as he wiggles out of his sweats. Naked as the day he was born, Harry jumps onto his knees at the bottom of the bed.

A laugh bubbles out of y/n when the whole bed shakes under his weight, clearly amused at how excited he is. She must be just as excited though because she quickly leans forward to cup his face, attaching their lips and bringing him back down to the pillows with her.

"Wanna be on top," he mutters into her mouth, ghosting his hand down her tummy and tickling his thumb over her clit. "f'that's ok?"

"Mmm," she hums, happily "too tired to top anyway."

Harry seals their lips together again, using his knees to spread her thighs a bit further apart for him. Her palms smooth down his sides and around to his back, a breathy moan interrupting their kiss courtesy of his fingers. Harry utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging her hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against her side. She lifts, and he settles it under her lower back and bum to prop her up. Luckily for him, he's had a lot of practice getting around a baby bump for a shag.

Settling between her thighs, Harry giggles when she wraps her legs around his hips and tugs him closer. His body hovers over hers, love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through her folds, groaning at how slick she's become.

"Don't even have to try anymore do I?" He teases with a wolfish smile, capturing her lips just as she rolls her eyes. Giggling, he leaves soft kisses across her cheek, heading towards the base of her jaw.

"S'the baby's fault honestly." She argues, her fingers disappearing into the damp locks sticking to the back of his neck.

He hums, smirking against her skin. "Is it?"

With a small tug she's pulling him back up to her mouth. "Yeah. Gets me revved up all the bloody time. I don't know what you're putting in there mister but it's exhausting."

Harry laughs quietly, nipping at her bottom lip. "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take care of ya. S'my problem after all, isn't it?"

Y/n nods, biting back a grin as Harry grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling her. Chest to chest, Harry smiles at the feeling of their stomachs pressed together as he guides the head of him into her slit.

The sigh that puffs out of her chest sends a zip of pleasure up his spine, as if she'd been partial without him and the pure relief of just having him in her is all she could ever want. Harry hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey she is for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have her this desperate for him and his touch.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to her, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. He pulls his hips back, breath stuttering when he easily slips forward again.

Y/n moans softly, dropping one hand to the small of his back as if guiding him. "So so good H." She confirms in a whisper, her voice tickling his ear and he squirms with a small laugh at the sensation.

Harry's soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between them and the one sleeping down the hall. Even the kisses he places on her jaw and lips are tender, small brushes between their confirmations that he "feels so good" inside her and she was "made for being wrapped me huh?" And Harry thinks nothing ever been truer. Her arms were made to hold him, her hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and her heart was made to completely consume his.

Y/n reaches her high before him, rolling her hips up to try and quicken his but he maintains his sensual thrusts, stroking her temple as she trembles and gasps, clinging to him in every way possible. There's something about how quick she falls apart for him when she's pregnant and how utterly earth shattering it is for her, that it completely obliterates any sense of stamina Harry's ever had. He couldn't care less when he follows shortly after, grinding down into her heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in her walls. She's the one stroking his temple this time, and he knows she's watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes.

Maybe it's the lingering anxiety that washed over him at the grocery store, but when y/n kisses him and gently nudges him off of her so she can go pee, Harry's desperate as he grips her hand and pouts, practically begging when he asks "can I get back in ya after? Just to fall asleep darling?"

Of course she nods, brushing sweaty curls from his forehead to soothe him and just like that he already feels lighter. He never has to sorry with her, because they were made for loving each other.

"Oh fuck!"

"Would you stop being so loud! It's 8 in the morning!"

"Can't help it, darling."

Harry tightens his hold around y/n's thighs, dipping his tongue back into her slit and groaning loudly despite the warning she's already given him this morning. She tugs on his hair scoldingly, drawing a pained hiss out of him. Harry brings his teeth up to her clit, nibbling in retaliation. A pained hiss of her own leaves her lips, cut off by a soft moan as he soothes his tongue over the spot.

Grinding her hips up into his mouth, Harry can't help but push his own into the mattress and a deep groan escapes him as he does so. Huffing, y/n scolds him again for being too loud when they've got a sleeping child one room over.

"Stop yelling at me so I can make you cum." He purrs, lips brushing over her clit. Their eyes meet over the curves and dips of her body, Harry smirking when she raises a prodding eyebrow at him. He kisses her thigh just once, lapping his tongue through her slit and he's just reaching her most sensitive spot when the beginning stirs of Arlo waking up break through the baby monitor.

Simultaneous groans leave both their mouths, this time of frustration. Harry pouts, knocking his forehead on y/n's hip bone and shaking his head.

"I told you Styles." Y/n teases, stroking through his hair for a second. He can't even think of a rebuttal before Arlo is calling out softly for her, and she's pushing up from the bed to get dressed.

"Take care of that while I take care of this." She calls as she disappears through the door, snickering softly and leaving him there desperate for her. But then again, when is he not desperate for her?

Hey man, hope I'm not being a bother. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink Friday or something?

-Z

Harry stares at the message, wondering why Zayn would sign it when the Instagram handle is clearly him. He also wonders why the hell Zayn is trying to hang out with him now.

It's a sunny day, the air outside relatively warm for March so Harry slipped a sweater on Arlo and brought him out to the backyard to play. They're sat in the grass, Arlo between his legs as they teach Theo to play fetch. Arlo's gotten good at tossing the chew toy himself, so Harry used the free time to start clearing out the congratulations messages he's received on Instagram.

"What's the matter H?"

Harry locks his phone, tilting his head up and squinting into the sun as y/n stands over them. She's got a bowl of puffy hot Cheetos in her hand, cradling them as if they were a precious gem as she settles into the grass with them.

"Nothing," he mumbles, pecking her temple when she leans into his side. "just got a weird text from Zayn. He wants to hang out."

Crunching through a chip, she hums. "Did you know he lives here?"

She lifts up a Cheeto, offering it to him. Harry gladly takes it between his teeth, pulling it from her fingertips and crunching down on the puffy chip. Swallowing, he shakes his head.

"Ran into him at the store once around Valentine's Day," she says, eyes watching Arlo dig his stubby fingers into the dry grass. "Was trying to talk to me about you I think but your son threw a fit and I was too busy to care honestly."

"Really?" Harry asks, perking up at the idea of Arlo throwing a tantrum to keep people away from y/n. That's the only time he'll agree with such actions. "Taught him well then haven't I?"

Rolling her eyes, she elbows him. "If you're son grows up to be rude I'm going to kick your ass Harry Styles."

Laughing, he steals a chip from her, locking his phone and dropping it to the grass. Arlo, interested in the device, crawls over to pick it up.

"Wouldn't expect anything less darling." He says, reaching over to swipe his phone to the camera so Arlo can snap random pictures.

"What are you going to do about Zayn then?"

"Suppose I should see what he wants, yeah?"

Y/n shrugs but Harry can read the look on her face easily. She's always silently encouraged him to face things that need mending or fixing, and his past with Zayn is one of those things.

"S'done then," he laughs, pinching her side affectionately. "I'll figure out why he's so obsessed with me."

She laughs, throwing her head back and scrunching her nose in the way makes him want to stare at her forever. "Think it's that one he's obsessed with. Look how cute he is."

Harry follows her line of sight, smile growing at the sight of Arlo making faces at himself in Harry's camera.

So bloody cute.

"Are we gonna be besties? I think we're gonna be besties." Niall states, swinging an arm around y/n's shoulders. He's on his third beer of the night already and Harry hasn't even made it to the ring yet. Y/n just laughs, continuing to maneuver tape around Harry's fingers but he's not as kind.

Casting a glare at the Irish man, Harry calls out to Gemma. "Get your leprechaun off of my girl before I use him to warm up."

Niall isn't really phased by the words, only pouting softly at Harry's steel gaze but Gemma is quick to rush over and pull Niall up from the couch by his hand.

"Come on babe, let's go find our seats." She coos to him, sending Harry an apologetic smile. He waits for her and Niall to turn their backs before chuckling softly. Y/n pinches at his wrist.

"Be nice to Niall. I really like him."

"Oh you really like him, huh?" Harry huffs, nudging his knee against hers. She rolls her eyes, giggling when he slips his free hand around her waist and pulls her into his lap. "Please tell me how much you really like Niall darling." He requests, shoving his face in her neck and playfully biting at her throat and shoulder. Just as he'd expected, she giggles and squirms, Harry having to wrap her up in a bear hug to keep her from sliding right off his thigh.

"Harry! Stop!"

He laughs with her, moving up to bite at the apples of her cheeks and her nose, growling as if he were a rabid beast. His freshly taped knuckles ache under the tightness of the wrap as he grips her flailing legs but he ignores it in favor of listening to her laugh.

"I like you more! I swear!" She shouts between laughs, wiggling a hand free and gripping the back of his neck. Pleased with her words, Harry pants out a laugh before sealing his mouth to hers.

"Tha's good because I like you more than Niall too." He mumbles into her lips.

"You like me more than you like everyone." She chuckles, stroking her thumb along his jawline. Harry's eyes shine with delight, proud that she knows her place in his heart, but he still teases.

"Mmm almost darling. Quite like my son, ya know that?"

She rolls her eyes but looks at him fondly, pinching the meat of his cheek. "Cute," she murmurs, "now go get ready for your fight baby. Want everyone to see my husband's gonna be the national champion."

Her words bring a rush of blood to his cheeks (and his cock if he's being honest), but he nudges her onto the couch next to him. "Just need two more wins." He whispers in her ear, pecking her temple.

Just two more wins.

There's good fights and there's bad fights. Everyone knows that. But not everyone knows that there's good wins and bad wins. Harry's experienced a few of those bad ones. Wins that he probably shouldn't have gotten because he certain his opponent had landed more punches and the judges miscounted. Or it was clear the other fighter wasn't into it and let him win.

Harry thinks tonight is his worst win ever.

The fight had been good. Trinsky, tonight's opponent from New Jersey, was short and stocky but strong. Harry was quicker than him though so they'd gone back and forth for a few rounds. Nothing two rough, just enough punches to have bright red welts on his torso and an ache in his jaw.

He fought through it though, fueled by the sounds of y/n and Niall cheering for him. Win this fight and he's onto the championship match. So he went at it with all he had left, charging Trinsky just as the man knocked his fist into Harry's temple.

It felt like a lightning bolt of pain zapped through his brain, shaking his core and causing his feet to stumble. Trinsky slid to the right as Harry crashed into the ropes, blinking furiously as the room around him spun. He was still in a daze as his body moved on its own, quick enough to uppercut his left fist into Trinsky's chin. The man crumbled to the mat, out cold, and Harry's dizzy head brought him down as well.

There's cheering and an announcement of his name, declaring Harry the winner but he can't seem to focus on it. Trinsky is being moved from the ring by his team, Harry falling to his bum on the mat as he rips at the velcro of his gloves with his teeth.

The room is coming back into focus, someone is calling him from the side of the ring but he doesn't recognize the voice so it goes ignored. He gets his hands free, rubbing his fingers into the tender spot on his head and wincing. He needs to take some Advil and ice it.

Harry climbs to his feet, a bit disoriented as he ducks under the ropes to leave. He knows he's got a team here somewhere but his mind can't seem to recognize what they look like or how to find them.

"Man, what are you doing?"

He turns, confused to find two men watching him like he's grown a second head. Harry feels like he knows the warm brown eyes of the taller man but he's not sure from where. Smiling uncomfortably, he motions behind him.

"I n-need ice or something." He says, excusing himself with a shrug and turning back to the locker room. He doesn't like the way his stomach twists or how his chest is telling him he knows those men when he couldn't even tell you there names right now. His heart thunders in his chest, panic seeping in and he's desperate to find something or someone that'll just help him out.

"Harry baby," she says calmly, a hand rubbing up his bare back comfortingly. "you okay?"

Y/n appears at his side, head tilted so she can meet his nervous gaze. Almost immediately he latches onto her hand, shaking his head. Her eyebrows crease, lips frowning as she reaches to cup his cheek.

"What's going on H? What's the matter?"

"M'head hurts," he answers immediately. "I-I think I forgot my team."

A trembling breath leaves his lips, tears stinging behind his eyes when he sees the concern on his wife's face. She brushes her thumb over his temple, the one she knows got hit the hardest, and then brushes a sweaty strand of hair off his forehead to place a tender kiss there.

"Let's get you to the locker room babe."

He follows like a lost puppy, trailing behind her through the back hallway and into his locker room. Y/n closes the door behind him before anyone else can enter, twisting the lock. Harry sits in the closest chair, fiddling with the tape on his fingers as he tries to calm down.

"Do you want to talk to me bub?" Y/n asks quietly, pulling up a seat directly in front of him. He nods, lifting his gaze from his hands to her face.

"I don't know what happened. It's like I got hit in the head and everything got shook up." He explains, frowning. He hates the way this feels. Hates that his body is screaming at him to just remember but his brain refuses to accept the message. "I know them, I know I do but s'like their names and stuff are just gone."

Y/n inhales sharply, biting nervously at her bottom lip. Harry's not even sure what to say and that makes him feel so much worse. He doesn't even feel like he has a concussion, not really. Everything else is still there, still in the forefront of his mind. His wife, his boys, Anne and Gemma. And he faintly remembers sitting at bars with one of the men from his team, remembers crashing on his couch late at night. But the soul of those memories are gone.

"I'm gonna get you some painkillers and water okay babe? Then we'll figure out what to do."

He nods, smiling wetly when she kisses his forehead. Watching her move around the room to gather water and whatnot, Harry wills himself to just think. He knows these men, he's just gotta focus on it. A memory stands out, one of the three of them in a car on a road trip. His trainer is driving, his manager in the passenger seat and he knows this is a trip for a match. A recent match too because he remembers saying goodbye to Arlo and y/n, kissing her swollen belly before he went.

Y/n returns to him with a bottle of water and a couple pills, watching him cautiously as he squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to just think. Recalling conversations from the car, remembering the screen in the front of the vehicle that reads Connected to Liam's iPhone. Liam. Almost instantly Nick's name floods his brain again and he feels his whole body tremble with relief.

Harry takes the medicine, gulping it down and slumping into his seat. "Nick and Liam," he finally murmurs, voice thick. "I couldn't remember darling. They were right in front of me and I couldn't remember their fucking names."

A silent tear trails down his cheek, Harry sniffling as y/n wipes it away with a tender touch he's only felt from her. "Its ok Harry. We'll figure out what happened. At least you remember now baby." She tried to comfort, but Harry's heart still aches.

"What if-" he peers up at her through wet eyelashes. "what if it had been you? Or Arlo? Or all three of you? What if I-"

He can't even finish the thought before he's shaking his head, more tears slipping down his cheeks and jaw. What would he have done if he'd looked at y/n and not remembered her name? Not remembered the beautiful son they created? Or the one she's growing now?

"It wasn't Harry," she stays sternly, cutting into his spiralling thoughts. "it wasn't and even if it did happen, it wouldn't change a thing. You're not getting rid of us."

Trying to smile, he nods and takes a deep breath. He trusts her, more than anyone, and he's never known someone that fights as much as she does. He knows, no matter what, that she'll always have his back.

#sweet as honey #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #one direction #harry styles au #dad harry #boxer harry #cute #smut #daddy harry styles #sweet as honey talk

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soramei · 3 years

Text

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry...

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile.

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door.

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck.

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in.

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me.

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.”

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less.

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.”

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful.

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying.

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you.

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled.

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends.

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them.

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.”

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves.

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said.

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression.

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand.

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid.

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups.

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well.

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked.

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?”

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long.

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work.

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria.

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before.

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated.

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.”

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought.

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room.

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food.

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?”

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you.

“Project?” You ask.

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass.

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem.

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays.

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table.

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms.

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask.

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled.

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…”

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms.

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara.

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said.

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara.

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone.

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids.

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper.

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria.

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes.

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called.

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him.

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body.

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you.

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails.

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room.

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door.

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room.

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting?

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair.

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home.

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.”

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words.

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair.

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo.

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.”

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting.

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet.

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said.

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.”

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.”

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears.

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands.

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained.

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next.

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?”

You felt your ears redden.

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.”

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next?

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket.

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you.

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.”

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.”

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways.

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression.

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows.

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence.

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.”

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after.

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in.

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face.

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked.

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears.

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.”

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness.

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands.

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.”

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here.

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office.

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in.

“Come in.”

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up.

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you.

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked.

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.”

_______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone.

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him.

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.”

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table.

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?”

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid.

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up.

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out.

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss.

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing.

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought.

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you.

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up.

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought.

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table.

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water.

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you.

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive.

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm.

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name?

“Y/n!”

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.”

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others.

Huh? Was this water?

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.”

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee.

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer.

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen?

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said.

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down.

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.”

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth.

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.”

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said.

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder.

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared.

You dizzily nodded.

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced.

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?”

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen.

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down.

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah — I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?”

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone.

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off.

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.”

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep.

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building?

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV.

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times.

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck.

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s.

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added.

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you.

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?”

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought.

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone.

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message.

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan smut

252 notes · View notes

dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Noise Complaint

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x gn!neighbour!reader

Summary: The guy living next door to you never seemed to shut up, and one day you decide that you’ve had enough.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: this work was inspired by wilbur’s recent eviction notice (lol), dodie’s song, absolutely smitten, and my recent pasta addiction! by the way, this may or may not be entirely accurate, but who cares? let me have some fun!

You hummed as you scooped the last of the pasta onto your plate, furrowing your brows. Something’s missing.

It hit you in a flash, your eyes lighting up as you turned on your heel to scramble into your kitchen. You strolled over to the windowsill where a small potted plant sat, basking in the sun’s warm, golden rays. “Hey, basil,” you said quietly, reaching over. “This might hurt a little, but it’ll only be a pinch.”

Tugging gently and carefully, you picked a few leaves off the plant’s branches, wincing a little. “Thank you,” you murmured with an apologetic smile as you turned away, walking over to your sink. You gave the leaves a quick wash before grabbing a knife from its spot in your knife block. With ease, you chopped the leaves into smaller bits, scooping them up with one hand while the other set the knife down on the cutting board. You skipped back over to your dining room with a small skip in your step, grinning as you took the chopped bits of basil in your hand and sprinkled them across the pasta in your plate.

Perfect, you thought to yourself with a small smile, stepping back to admire your work. With a satisfied grin, you slipped into your chair, picking up your fork as you began to dig in.

Today was your first day off in ages, and you couldn’t have been more pleased. It was a beautiful day out, and you had spent the morning out with your friends, catching up on everything over a quaint meal at your favourite restaurant. All the days spent running around for your boss suddenly felt like they were worth it and more as you laughed at your friends’ antics while you ate. While you had to part in the afternoon, you were more than happy to simply complete some household chores that you had missed out on during your usual hectic schedule. As sunset drew closer and closer, you found your stomach grumbling once more in a plea for attention and food. What better way to quench your hunger with some good ol’ pasta?

A muffled shout dragged you out of your thoughts, your shoulders jolting at the sudden noise. You let out a sharp yelp at the abrupt noise, holding a hand over your heart in an effort to calm yourself. After a second of silence passed, a frown etched itself onto your features.

Of course he was being loud, again.

You sighed, stabbing your pasta with a little more vigour. You loved your home, you really did. It was a lovely apartment with more than enough space for you to live comfortably on your own, and you had managed to get it for a criminally cheap price. It was located near your workplace and was even in a safe part of the city. Your neighbours were also wonderful, most of them being polite, friendly, and quiet.

With one particular exception—the guy who lived directly next door to you.

You didn’t really know who he was, per se. You knew that he was your neighbour, that he mostly spent his time at home, and that he was loud. So, so loud. You didn’t think anyone could be this loud when they spent nearly all of their time in an apartment, but he somehow proved you wrong. If it wasn’t the occasional yell, then it was always “chat” this and “chat” that. What the heck was he even talking about? You didn’t know, and you weren’t sure that you cared, either.

Even after having lived here for weeks, you still didn’t have a single clue who this guy was, but you were sure of one thing.

He was absolutely driving you up the wall.

While he wasn’t always super loud—miraculously, there were indeed quiet days—you couldn’t go more than a few days without getting startled awake from sleep or dropping something out of surprise. You were pretty sure you had already broken four dishes just because of him. Despite everything that had happened, you still hadn’t confronted him about it. You liked to believe that hey, this is just a one time thing, or it’s not so bad! You’d been feeding yourself these itty bitty white lies for weeks now, and you were starting to run out of patience.

You shook your head, examining the last piece of pasta on your fork with a roll of your eyes. Well, at least he was being quiet no—

Bang!

You yelped again, your fingers going limp in shock. Before you could even register what happened, your fork slipped from your hand, the pasta smacking landing on your shirt before sliding off you and landing on the floor. With horror, you stared down at the stain on your once pristine white shirt, the mark staring back at you mockingly.

Oh. Oh no.

You clenched your jaw, an incessant irritation clawing at the back of your mind as you stood, stomping over to your front door.

This was the last straw. You’ve had enough of his crap, and you were about to give him a piece of your mind

Pulling open your door, you only had to walk four steps before you stood face to face with your neighbour’s wooden door. Raising your fist, you knocked against the wood with an intensity that you didn’t think you were capable of. A few moments passed with no response, but you were sure you could hear some rustling on the other side of the door. You crossed your arms as you waited, tapping your foot. Just who in the world did this guy think he wa—

Just then, the door swung open to reveal your neighbour.

You blinked tilting your head back as you craned your neck at him. Your eyes widened in surprise.

He was tall, ridiculously so. With brown, fluffy hair that hung a little over his forehead and a dark, expressive gaze that looked down at you in confusion, he was also very, very cute.

Damn him for being attractive. In another world, you might have even liked him. But right now, you had a score to settle. His attractiveness could wait.

“Hi,” you said, plastering a polite smile to your face. “I don’t think we’ve properly met before.” You extended your hand out toward him in a handshake. “My name’s [Y/N]. I live just next door.”

The confusion is his gaze parted slightly to give way to understanding. His lips curled to reveal a blinding white grin as he took your hand in his, shaking it. “Hello,” he said, his low voice practically enveloping itself around you. “I’m Wilbur Soot.”

His hands are so warm, your heart prompted. And soft. His smile is also really pretty. And his voice is so nice!

Shut up, you thought back as you pulled your hand from his. This was unfair. So unfair.

“I moved in a little under a month ago,” you began slowly, doing your best to keep your tone civil and calm, “and I only just realized that I never properly introduced myself to you.”

Wilbur’s grin only seemed to grow wider, and you hated just how sincere it was. “Well, it is certainly a pleasure to meet you.” His eyes darted down to your shirt, and you watched as he shifted awkwardly. “Oh, you, um, have something on your shirt.” He gestured to the bottom of his sweater with a sheepish smile, and you felt yourself losing your grip.

“I know,” you said between clenched teeth. “I spilled some pasta on it. As a matter of fact, I’m actually here to talk to you about that.”

His eyebrows knit together. “About pasta?”

The smile dropped from your face. Oh, that was it.

“Look,” you said sharply, feeling the slightest tinge of delight when you saw him jump a bit at your sudden shift in tone, “if I’m being blatantly honest, you can be really loud at these completely arbitrary times, and I’m just asking you to please, please be at least a little quieter. I startle easily, and your random yelling or wall-smacking or whatever have really been causing problems for me.”

“Like your shirt,” he said quietly.

“Like my shirt,” you confirmed.

The look on his face was genuinely upset, and you almost let yourself feel bad for calling him out. Almost.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had no idea that this was a problem. This is going to sound really weird, but it’s...” He paused. “...kind of my job to occasionally yell?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “‘It’s kind of your job...’” You shook your head. “Oh, forget it. Just... if you can, I would really appreciate if you could keep it down, even if only a little.” You grimaced. “I don’t think I can handle dropping another bowl.”

He winced, a wave of guilt flashing across his face. “Seriously,” he said, “I’m really, really sorry. The other neighbours said they were fine with me being a bit loud when I first came here, and I hadn’t even realized that you were new.” He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a wallet. “If you’d like, I’m more than happy to reimburse you for any inconveniences you ran into because of me.”

Your eyes widened, your jaw falling slack. As much trouble as he had caused you, you didn’t want to just take his money. That would be a whole other level of petty.

Holding your hands up in front of you and waving them frantically. “No, no, no, no, no, that’s too much.” You offered him a smile, a real one this time. “Just a little more quiet is perfect for me.”

The relief on his face was evident, but there was also something else there. It sort of looked like awe. “Thank you,” he said. “I never meant to cause you so much harm. I’ll make it up to you, really! I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” you immediately said, raising your hand with your pinky extended.

A part of you cringed a little at yourself, wondering how childish you must seem right now. Your friends always teased you about making pinky promises even as an adult, years after you had left the playground, but you stood firm in your beliefs—pinky promises were eternal. But for some reason you couldn’t name, you felt almost embarrassed by yourself.

It’s ‘cause you’re into him, your heart chirped, speaking up once more. You want to leave a good impression!

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Shut up, shut up.

However, to your surprise, he nodded, lifting up his own pinky. “Pinky promise.”

You grinned, elation jumping through your veins. He wrapped his pinky around yours and squeezed. You squeezed back, ignoring the tingle that went down your spine as you did so.

Pulling your hand away, you offered him a bashful smile. “Sorry if I came across as really aggressive. I’m not usually like this.”

His lips quirked up at the side. “I don’t blame you, really.” He glanced down at your shirt, again. “If someone made me stain my shirt with pasta, I’d be reasonably upset, too.”

You giggled, waving a hand at him. “Well, you’re a nice guy, so I assure you I’m not that mad.” You stepped back, shooting him a teasing look. “I am going to hold you to that pinky promise, though!”

He laughed and, damnit, even his laugh was cute. “I don’t doubt it.” Stepping back inside his apartment, he raised his hand in a wave. “It was nice meeting you, [Y/N].”

You waved back. “You too, Wilbur.”

As his door fell shut, you sighed to yourself, a sense of satisfaction fell over you. Well, that went much better than I expected, you thought as you walked back to your apartment. You strode over to your kitchen table, picking up your empty plate and fallen fork, wiping off the small mark left by the pasta on the floor. He’s nicer than I thought.

You walked over to your sink, your mind swirling with the interaction you just had as you turned on the tap. Wilbur’s face flashed across your mind, and a familiar, warm buzz ran up your skin, something sweet and soft latching onto your insides like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Oh. Oh no.

You recognized that feeling. You knew what that fluttering in your stomach was.

You like him! your heart sang, dancing around in your chest and waving a neon sign with Wilbur’s name on it. You tooootally like him!

With a groan, you frowned as you picked up a sponge. Shut up, shut up, shut uuup!

Wilbur Soot may be kind, polite, well-mannered, pretty, cute, and tall, but there was no way you were about to let him off the hook that easily. He ruined your one good white shirt! He just happened to be... less sucky than you thought.

“Wilbur Soot is just my next-door neighbour,” you said quietly aloud to yourself, scrubbing angrily at your dishes, “and I definitely don’t like him.”

But deep down, you knew that it was no use.

You were smitten.

633 notes · View notes

thefanbasewhore · 3 years

Note

I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for a week now 😫 how about a hc with Din accidentally walking in on reader taking a shower (but only sees their back or smn and reader doesn’t notice him) and he’s extremely awkward around them after that? Bonus points if they’re not together but there’s definitely ✨ something ✨ between them 🤧

gf, I love this idea 💞 get ready for flustered shy tin can 🤧 I wrote this very quickly probably doesn't have as much detail as it should but none the less hope you enjoy it! (I didn't do a taglist for this because I'm on mobile atm, but I am still taking request for head cannons while I finish the small bit of my clan din AU so it's coming soon to anyone who is wondering :))

Summary: Din sees reader back for the first time and gets really really shy about it.

Warning/Content: I really just had fun with this one, nothing sad or fluffy. Mentions of ass cheeks and nipples. Embarrassed Din.

It was late, very late when the Mandalorian managed to return, bounty in hand but not for long as the hissing of carbonate freezes him without worry.

Din starts to pull at his armour to remove it, not really caring as it falls to the ground with a slight thump until all he's left in is the dark tunic and matching pants with one goal in mind: a shower and sleep.

He's careful, tip toeing around the scattered toys left by his son, reminding him to pick them up in the morning before you or the baby manage to face plant into the floor of the crest.

Fingers push the curtain of the make shift room to the side to meet a green, curled up ball. The blankets are tucked under, three pillow per his request on each side of him, slow low breaths fall from his slightly parted lips, tiny white teeth poke through.

Then press the button to open his own bed except it's empty, he expects the bed hog who's been . He must have been to tired to notice the sound of the shower running, thick, hot steam that cloud the lower belly of the Razor Crest.

The ray of light that comes through the crack of the door attracts him, reflecting off his helmet as he approaches, hand pressing against the door to close it, to insure your privacy but through the thick steam of the room it catches a long part of skin, naked and out on display.

He tries to look away, really does because this is creepy and you deserve better then having him peeping on you like some pervert but the small of your back looks so smooth, two points that form dimples would make the perfect spot for his thumbs to fit while he's -

He shakes his head, face underneath the helmet growing red, his skin hot with the thought of joining you, giving into this we love each other but can never be together game you have going.

The steam wraps around his throat, makes it hard to breath as it fills the helmet. Eyes drop lower and lower to the top of your ass check as he has to hold onto the wall for support, leaning against it but his hand misses it completely, catching himself mid fall but not before his helmet bangs of the metal wall with a loud shriek.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck

The Mandalorian is in full panic mode, fingers begin to tremble, trying to decide if he should just run away or answer to your, "Hello?"

His skin is so hot, it burns and pricks, forms small beads of sweet against his forehead as he squeezes his eyes shut. Despite being on the verge of a panic attack he sounds calm.

"It's... just me... I'm sorry, I was going to shower. I didn't want to bother you I was just going to go bed and tripped. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, I'll be out in a second. Didn't know you'd be home, it's early. I had the worst headache, thought a shower would help."

He leans against the wall, hand meeting the metal forehead with a whine as he taps it, idiot, idiot. "Yeah, okay Cyar'ika."

As you clatter through the bathroom, turning the water off and drying yourself he's starting to recover from his embarrassment, it sounds like you believed him but he nervously waits and he's glad he does.

You step out of the shower with just a towel that barely covers you, it's pushed tightly across your chest but just enough that he can see the the way your body reacts to the change of temperature, nipples hardening almost instantly. The towel leaves little to the imagination and it makes him want to see more but all he does instead is snap his gaze back up to your face before mumbling something about going to sleep and walking past you to close the door.

When he returns he finds you in clothes, tucked comfy into the blankets of the bed, it's dark, you made sure for when he returned from the shower he could just take the helmet off to go to sleep.

"The baby was miserable today.. wouldn't let me sleep." Din doesn't reply, just lets out a small sound from his chest, he turns to face you except he's greeded with nothing but darkness. "Head still hurts though, I'm going to try and sleep."

"Goodnight Cyar'ika, sweet dreams."

The next morning Din wakes up to an empty bed, it's usual after a bounty, you wake up with the baby to let him rest no matter how much he tells you it's fine, but who knows when the last time he's slept a full night.

Feet follow the sound of babbling and cooing, followed by your calming voice. The baby instantly changes as he sees his father, happy for his return as he waddles and pulls on his pant leg with grabby hands.

"Hi, pal." Eyes shift over to you as he lifts his son, mixing a small bowl of fruit together for which he is guessing is for the child that presses his fingers against his neck, curling a small piece of hair that peaks from under the helmet. "Does your back feel better?"

At that very moment he is so glad the heavy, lousy piece of beskar hides his face as is hits up ablaze, visibly stiffening as you tilt your head in his direction. He clears his throat, "I.. um. I.. meant your head."

He's choked up, fumbling words as pure lava sets in his chest, throat closing. He's nervous, caught red handed as he notices the cocky smile against your lips.

"You look nervous Din." You're playing with him, enjoying this moment that makes the man seem so very human. Sometimes it's hard to remember when he looks so unhuman, but the way his chest blushes under the white shirt, free hand nervously fiddles the hem of the shirt behind his back, can't speak much like last night he was too busy staring at you to notice you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror. "My back feels very fine, would you like to see or did you see enough yesterday?"

Before your hands could even reach the bottom of the t-shirt he is walking away, defeating mumbling something along the lines of. "That's not funny."

#din djarin fan fiction #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #the mandolorian imagine #din dijarin x reader #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin

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forcefullyawake · 3 years

Text

This is for @cupcake-rogue’s like a virgin collab!

Denki x F! Reader

Warnings: None, tooth rotting fluff, and a suggestive ending.

Summary: Sometimes the right person runs into you. Literally. Other times it’s a hero who’s not watching where he’s going.

WC: 1.9k

Denki Kaminari doesn’t do being nervous.

He’s a hero, a pro, top ten. He worked his ass off during UA, his internships, did everything right, shed his jokester ways, and in the first hero rankings he was in? He placed higher thank even Bakugo. He’s impressive, he thinks, tall and blonde, having grown into himself after those first few awkward years. The point is he’s not nervous around women anymore, doesn’t stutter over his words or make inappropriate comments. He’s cool, mature, a catch for any woman.

Until, that is, he quite literally runs into you.

“I’m fucking late,” Denki announces to nobody- it’s not like anybody stayed over the night before. It’s a true testament to who he is now that his morning routine can be essentially cut in half and almost nothing goes wrong during it. His hero costume is not only easy to get on, but something that works well with his usual wardrobe, so that he can be out the door in under twenty minutes for times like these.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He mutters to himself, finally getting all the buttons into place right when the elevator opens up to the ground floor. It’s impressive, actually, that he manages to run into you. With a quirk like his, he’s learned to be constantly aware of his surroundings so nobody gets shocked accidentally. Today, however, he’s not thinking straight and runs directly into you, knocking you (and your paperwork) to the ground.

He stops dead in his tracks, wanting more than anything to start apologizing, helping you pick things up. You know, things any normal person or hero would do but he finds himself stuck in place. You’re… hot, for lack of a better word. He’ll think of some later. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something about you that has him immediately bewitched- mind, body, and soul, just like that. You’re standing now, a scowl on your face and- hey you’re snapping your fingers for some reason, maybe he should listen in.

“Hello? Is anybody any there?” Your voice is understandably irritated, looking him up and down quickly before huffing. “Whatever. Watch where you’re going next time, jerk.” You spin away from him, taking his hopes and dreams right with you. But you walk into his apartment building, and through the glass doors that stand between you he sees you walk to the manager- so you’re either gonna live there or work there. Either way he has a second chance.

His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and a quick glance tells him it’s Mineta, demanding to know where he is- is he okay? Was there a villain attack? Denki shoots off a quick text saying he’s just overslept before hurrying on his way.

It’s not until later, when he’s finally in his office, that Denki realizes how he was feeling.

For the first time, in a very long time, Denki Kaminari was nervous. All because of you.

“Stupid hero, not watching where he was stupidly going,” You mutter under your breathe before plastering on a smile when your new apartment manager steps into view. God, this place is so nice. You can’t wait to move in. You have to dropped off the signed leasing forms and then give the place one last look around before the moving trucks start coming in.

The meeting goes smoothly, which helps ease whatever leftover tension you have from the morning. The keys are in your hands, the boxes are piling up, and your neighbor is out for the day it looks like so you can play music as loudly as you dare. Your day goes just about as well as a moving day can. You get the important things set up first- bed, tv, coffee maker. The creature comforts for when you’re inevitably exhausted tomorrow. You hear movement in the other apartment, frowning at the shared wall with how clearly you can. Hm, that might be annoying. Still, you don’t plan on turning down the music unless asked.

Almost like clockwork you hear a knock on your door. You pause to lower the volume to a more acceptable level before opening the door, ready to introduce yourself and apologize, make a good first impression and all that only to see-

“You!” You raise an accusatory finger- at the hero who knocked you over and did nothing this morning. “You can’t be my neighbor!”

“I-” He starts, having the good sense to at least look a little sheepish now. “I’m sorry?” His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his head, making him look even more nervous but you can see his eyes looking over your shoulder to peer into your apartment.

“Yeah, you should have said that this morning,” It holds less venom than you want, especially when you get distract by the muscles his actions put on display. Huh. Your new neighbor is incredibly built. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “Again, whatever. I turned the music down. Goodnight.” You go to close the door but his voice stops you.

“Hold on, I wasn’t going to ask you to turn it down,” He starts, finally looking away from your apartment, “I liked it. And maybe you can play it for me now? I could help you put stuff away? Make up for this morning?”

You should say no. You’re already getting tired, you have stuff beyond packing to do tomorrow, and it’s stupid to let a complete stranger into your house. Even if he’s a pro hero. And even if he’s cute. You should tell him to get lost. Instead, you open your mouth to hear yourself say,

“Sure, come on in.”

Denki can’t believe his luck when you open your door a little wider to let him in.

He was so sure you were going to say no- hell, even you looked a little confused when yes came out of your mouth, but he wasn’t going to question it too much. Your place already looked a lot cozier than his, with decorations half in the boxes, even. You have photos up on the walls already, pictures of people who look like you too and people who look like your friends. His own apartment is pretty sparse, just a place he can sleep and eat in.

“Could you help me in the kitchen?” Your voice carries through the space, having left him behind. “I have some stuff that need to go onto the top shelf.” He follows blindly, biting down so hard on his lower lip it almost bleed when he sees you. You’re not doing anything scandalous, just putting dishes away but the way your arms are raised over your head have given him a glimpse at your skin where your shirt has ridden up. He can feel the blood rush south in his body, embarrassingly.

“Stop ogling and start helping,” You snap over your shoulder, frowning at him. That snaps him out of his daze, not wanting to leave too soon despite having another early morning shift. He grabs the box you point at, and starts to place the mugs on the top shelf. They look like gifts, he thinks, all of them printed with far too many places for one person to have visited.

“Your friends get you these?” He asks, trying to sound casually interested, not too desperate, “Or a boyfriend?” You snort at him.

“Friends, mostly, and some family,” You wait a long moment before continuing, “No boyfriends, though.” Denki internally heaves a sigh of relief.

“I don’t get out much, with my job. But I like to pretend I do,” You say, eyeing the mugs wistfully. “How about you? You travel a lot?”

“That requires taking time off,” Denki says, frowning a little as he tries to remember his last actually relaxing day off. “But you know what they say- if you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life!”

“Oh, bullshit,” You snort out, abandoning the box you’ve been unpacking all together. “I love my job, a lot, but I have worked some days.” The tension is broken after that, with Denki asking you to elaborate and you trying to play coy until the rants just burst out of you. It’s not until your stomach gives a loud grumble that you realize neither of you have been unpacking but just talking for the past hour and a half.

It’s just late enough that a normal dinner is out of the question, but maybe you could order something in?

“I know a good ramen place that delivers here,” Denki volunteers, grinning sheepishly.

“Are you sure your quirk isn’t mind reading?” You tease him, just to watch him laugh. He’s pretty hot when he laughs, you think, then immediately try to squash the thought. Dinner first, crushing on a hero later.

Dinner is ordered.

Denki’s right, the ramen is good and it comes quick. The two of you slurp your soup in silence, the awkwardness returning from before. Denki seems almost unable to look at you now, for some reason. He focuses in so hard on his bowl you’re surprised it doesn’t go up in smoke. You want to ask him about it but you can’t figure out how to phrase the question.

For his part, Denki is having an internal meltdown. When you lean forward to take a sip of the broth your shirt pulls forward just enough that he can see the swell of your breasts. It shouldn’t affect him this much, he’s been around enough, but there’s something about the white of your bra that makes his head spin, makes him feel like a virgin all over again.

“Are you okay?” You ask him the same moment he blurts out-

“I can see your bra, I’m sorry, don’t kick me out,” All in one breath. You’re silent for a moment, and then another, and another, and Denki regrets every choice he’s made in his life until now that brought him here. You keep not saying anything and a million and one scenarios run through his head, each one worse than the next. Oh my god, what if you tell people? He’ll be known as the pervert hero, he won’t be able to work in Japan anymore, he’ll have to someplace like America or-

“Would you like to see more of it?” Your voice is soft, shy as your hands twist in the bottom of your shirt, looking at him with wide eyes. He’s sure he’s misheard you because there’s no way you’re offering what he thinks you are.

“More?” He manages to croak out. You don’t reply, but your shirt keeps going upwards. Your shirt continues upwards until it’s off of you and Denki’s brain has finally, truly short circuited.

You’re not sure what’s possessing you to be so bold- maybe the conversation, maybe the way the food has made you comfortably warm and a little drowsy, maybe you just wanna see what he’ll do next. It’s cute, endearing even, how his eyes can’t figure out where to look. He can’t decide if he wants to throw himself at you or away from you.

“More,” You agree, moving closer to him on the couch, taking the bowl from his hands to set on the table in front of you. Denki stops breathing as you move even closer to him, your face swimming in front of his eyes. “Tell me if I should stop?”

“Never,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours, tasting like a promise, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s so easy to fall into him, like you’ve known him forever, like this is as easy as breathing.

It’s sunrise, somehow. Denki is still there, blissfully unaware as you watch him sleep. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t watch where he was going the previous morning.

Now, though, you wouldn’t mind running into him again.

#denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #denki x female reader #denki fluff #denki kaminari fluff

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my-unmanageable-mischief · 3 years

Text

New Norm

For the Anon who requested : Hey can I get a Sirius black x reader fic where their parents arrange their marriage.

Part 2

Trigger warning : Vomiting

Sirius Black x Reader

You were practically inconsolable. Sobbing deeply into your pillow as your mother rubbed your back, your grandmother was behind her standing in the doorway with her nose slightly in the air. She was never fond of you- a troublemaker since you could walk. The family disappointment. The moment you were sorted into Gryffindor you expected to be disowned. Your paternal grandparents took it hard, your father even harder, but your mother- a soft spoken and at her core, kind hearted woman, still loved you. You were her only daughter after all.

“This is no way for a young lady to behave.” Your grandmother tisked, and your mother looked over her shoulder, eyes pleading, “You’ve been given a gift greater then you deserve, to marry into the noble house of Black is a great honor.” That’s all she kept saying. How honorable it was, how lucky you were. You didn’t feel lucky. You choked slightly on your tears and your mother rubbed your back slightly harder.

“I don’t want to be married! Not to a Black, not to anyone!” You sobbed, punching your pillow before shoving your face into it and letting out a scream.

“Despicable.” Your grandmother scoffed. “You should be grateful, for a girl like you to marry a man like-”

“Mother.” Your mother spoke firmly, never raising her voice, “Give us some privacy please.” Your grandmother was displeased but she turned and walked swiftly from the room, allowing your door to slam shut behind her. It sounded like the lid of your coffin closing. Once you were alone your mother wrapped you in her arms, pulling you to her chest, allowing you to cry it out. When you were good and done and fully exhausted she pulled back looking at you.

“I am sorry.”

“Then why are you doing this to me?” You asked, voice pleading as you looked at the woman who was supposed to protect you. She smiled sadly, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeve of her robe.

“We’re not doing anything to you, my love. This truly is for your own benefit. A good husband with a good name will take you far in life. You know, your father and I had an arranged marriage. We turned out alright, and we had you- and all your lovely brothers. Good will come from this.” You wanted to argue with her. To tell her that your father was a bastard and that they didn’t turn out alright. Your eldest brother hadn’t spoken to your family since he graduated and your youngest brother was so brainwashed he had never had an original though in his life. Nothing about your family was fine. “Besides, your father has already set these plans in stone. This summer you are going to marry Sirius Black. That is final, my love.” Final. If the door was the lid to your coffin closing then those words were the nails keeping it shut.

“Okay,” You croaked.

“Wash up and come downstairs for dinner, we will talk more then.”

“Okay,” Your voice was broken and hoarse from your sobbing. “Will grandmother be there?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

On the other side of London Sirius Black was having a very similar and entirely different conversation with his own dotting parents. Much more screaming, and a lot less sobbing but the sentiment was the same. He did not want to be married. Not to you, not to anymore, especially not to someone his mother picked out for him.

“I’M NOT GETTING MARRIED!” He roared at his mother who threw another curse in his direction, Sirius dodged it.

“You will do as you’re told your ungrateful bastard! You bring shame on this family every single day, this is the least you can do!” She screamed back, his father sat in the parlor reading the Daily Prophet, ignoring them both.

“I haven’t even graduated! And you expect me to be married? To some bitch you’ve picked out for me?” His mother sneered.

“A bitch she is, perfect for you. I couldn’t get anyone worthy of the Black name, since you’ve disgraced yourself. You will be marrying Y/N Y/L/N. I think you’ll have more in common then you know, both pure-blooded family disappointments. The bottom of the barrel. You deserve each other. Maybe you’ll learn then.” He stopped when she said your name, surprised. He knew you, sure he did. A fellow Gryffindor a year below himself. He knew you were smart, and pretty and as far as he could tell, kind. Frankly, he didn’t even know you came from a pure-blooded family. When Sirius said no more his mother lowered her wand slightly, still sneering.

“Go to your room immediately and do not leave until you’re fetched. We will be dining at the Y/L/N’s house later this week to finalize the plans for the ceremony. You will be ready to go, and you will be on your best behavior. Or else.”

“Or else what?” Sirius muttered, moving towards the stairs.

“Or else your father will have to deal with you.” He wouldn’t admit it but that frightened Sirius to the bone. He and his mother could fight and yell their heads off for hours uninterrupted, but once his father got involved it ended swiftly and painfully. Sirius nodded once before stomping up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, content to lock himself inside for the remainder of the week.

A week later you sat in your kitchen fidgeting awkwardly in a dress you would have never voluntarily worn. But your grandmother had bought it, and your mother insisted saying it was a gift and a kind gesture. You were convinced it wasn’t. A green light flashed from the next room over, where your grandfather and father were waiting for the Blacks to arrive, and you heard an unfamiliar voice going through introductions.

“Get up,” Your grandmother snapped at you, and you stood but didn’t move. “Go!” She barked out, “If you’re to be the lady of the house it’s high time you learned some manors. Go greet your guests.”

“Yes, grandmother.” You muttered, walking from the kitchen into the sitting room. You knew Sirius from school, mostly from the gossip of your dormmates- according to them he was a god and could do no wrong. You couldn’t deny he was fit and he and his mates were a laugh, but the Sirius you saw in your home was not the Sirius from Hogwarts. Gone was his usual laid back demeanor and it had been replaced with cold eyes and a painfully neural look. You were used to the rule breaking wild child you heard epic tails about. You were surprised he wasn’t brought here kicking and screaming. His parents looked just like him, and there was a younger boy with them, something with an R if you remembered correctly.

“Hello,” You greeted them, glancing at your father and grandfather sideways as you attempted to muster a smile- it came out more of a grimace. “Welcome to our home, Mrs. Black, Mr. Black. Sirius. R-erm...”

“Regulus.” The mother spoke curtly. You nodded.

“Regulus. Welcome.”

“Thank you child,” She was a stern looking woman with a voice that cut through your thin dress, chilling your bones. But the father was even worse. He barely spoke a word, only stared at you disapprovingly.

“Come to the dining room, dinner is ready,” You father offered, gesturing, the Blacks filed past him and you into the other room, Sirius glancing down at you and meeting your eye as we went. Dinner was awkward, the talk was strained and sparse. You ate your food quietly, keeping your eyes downcast and only speaking when directly addressed, which was rarely. You caught Sirius’s eye a few times during the meal and offered him a small shrug and halfhearted smile which he barely returned. At least you had one thing in common; your shared misery.

“The wedding will be in July,” Mrs. Black stated, and that got both of your attention, two heads turned.

“This summer? I’m-”

“Thrilled.” Your grandmother completed for you, sending you a chilling look. You swallowed thickly and looked back down at your lap for a moment as the conversation finally shifted to why you were all gathered.

“We can hold it here, if you’d like, in the yard.” Your mother offered, eyes misty with tears of joy at the idea. You were going to be sick.

“May I be excused to go to the loo?” You managed to choke out, everyone looked at you, and your mother nodded.

“Of course, dear, everything alright?”

“Fine,” You spoke but you were already out of your chair as you practically ran from the room. You heard your grandmother’s voice before you shut yourself into the bathroom.

“She’s just nervous, you remember how it was.” Nervous wasn’t the word you would use. Disgusted was more accurate. Destroyed. Completely and utterly devastated. You retched into the toilet, spilling the contents of your dinner you had forced down. When you were done you laid on the floor for a few minutes, trying to calm yourself.

“Sirius,” His mother pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yes?” He asked boredly, pushing his food around with his fork.

“Why don’t you go check on your fiance.” It wasn’t a suggestion as much as it was an order politely delivered for the sake of their company.

“I’m sure she didn’t fall in,” He responded dirly and his mother’s face darkened.

“Go. Now.” Sirius tossed his napkin down onto the table and glared back as he got up, following you in the direction you had went. He knocked on a door and opened it when no one responded and was met with a large office. Not the loo. He found another door and knocked sharply.

“Be out in a mo,” Your voice called weakly from inside, he frowned.

“It’s Sirius. I’ve been sent to make sure you’re not trying to escape through the pipes.” He joked lamely and listened to some shuffling on the other side of the door, when you opened it, it was from a seated position on the floor. He smirked slightly. “What are you doing down there?” He asked, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, “Alright?” You scooted back towards the toilet and shook your head going green.

“I think I’m going to be sick again, you might want to go,” You warned, gripping the toilet bowl with white knuckles. Sirius felt something for you in that moment- pity maybe. You seemed so young sitting on the floor of your bathroom, and that’s because you were.

“I’ve seen worse,” He assured, wincing as you began to heave into the basen. He came forward awkwardly, scooping your hair into his hands, trying to keep it out of your face. “You should see James after a bottle of firewhiskey.” You snorted out a laugh before retching again violently. When you were done you sat back and wiped your mouth and Sirius dropped your hair, going to the sink to get you a glass of water.

“Thank you,” You croaked, taking it and sipping it slowly, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s alright. Are you okay?” He asked, knowing the answer but wondering if you would grace him with honesty.

“No,” You whimpered, “This is all... too much.”

“Understandable,” He agreed, sitting on the bathroom floor beside you, “I am sorry. About this, the situation we have found ourselves in.” You shrugged meekly and continued to sip on the water.

“According to my grandmother marrying you is a blessing for a disgrace like me,” You spat the words, not looking at the boy. “Like I’m supposed to be grateful I’m marrying virtually a stranger. Like I’m supposed to be happy to be married right after I turn sixteen for Merlin’s sake.” He nodded sympathetically.

“Well trust me, being seventeen doesn’t make it much easier. And according to my mother this is my punishment for being the family fuck up, no offense.” You waved him off with a hand, “So at least we’ve got that in common.”

“What a wonderful thing to share.” You mused and he chuckled. There was another knock on the bathroom door before it opened your mother poking her head in. “Mum,” You greeted her, how long had you been gone?

“Y/N, are you alright?” She asked, coming fully into the bathroom eyes worried.

“I think I’m ill, must be grandmother’s cooking.” You quipped and Sirius hid his laugh behind a cough. Your mother looked at you sternly for a moment before her eyes went soft.

“Poor dear, come back to the table, say your goodnights and then go to bed, we can finish the planning without you, it’s not a worry.” You wanted to tell her you weren’t a part of the planning to start with but refrained.

“Yes, mum.” Sirius got up first and took the glass from your hand, setting it on the sink before offering you his hand, which you took, allowing him to pull you up. “Thank you,”

“Don’t mention it.” He assured and your mother led you both back to the dining room.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well,” She announced, and at the look of you no one could accuse you of lying, you were pale and clammy and still a bit green.

“My apologies, Mrs. Black, Mr. Black. I wish I could have been better company.” You didn’t. Mr. Black simply nodded and you while Mrs. Black managed to barely hide a sneer.

“Poor dear.” She stated drily, but you had an inkling that she could simply care less. “Feel better and worry not, your wedding will be taken care of, nothing for you fret over.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” You managed a weak smile at her which she did not reciprocate. Your mother ushered you off towards your bedroom and you managed to send Sirius a thankful glance over your shoulder as you went.

You took solace in the little things over the next month of wedding planning. Mainly, that your mother allowed you to choose your own wedding dress much to your grandmother’s dismay.

“It’s hideous.” She commented when you had brought it home.

“I think it’s lovely,” you answered smugly before being forced to sit through another lecure about how ungrateful you were. She was right, you weren’t grateful for the torture they were putting you through. Your birthday came and went with little fuss, the only gift you received came late at night by owl. You went to your window, letting in the unfamiliar owl, and taking the small simply wrapped parcel from his leg before opening the attached note.

Happy Birthday Y/N,

My mother said I should get you a gift for your birthday, and you’re lucky I talked her into letting me pick it out on my own, she’s got awful taste. You should see the dress robes she wanted me in for the wedding, even my father had to veto them. Anyroads, hope your birthday was good, happy sweet sixteen. Enjoy the wedding planning, I sure am. (Sarcasm if you didn’t pick up on it,). I will see you in a few weeks.

Sirius

You smiled at the kind words, thankful for them. You set the letter aside and opened the package genly, revealing a small jewelry box, you opened it and allowed yourself a small gasp. It was a simple gold chain with a small ruby pendant, Gryffindor colors. You smirked, knowing it was a direct disrespect of his parents to get you such a gift, it made you love it more. You put it on and looked at yourself in the mirror, touching the jewel gently.

The two weeks flew by sickenly fast and you found yourself laying in bed wide awake at three a.m. on your wedding eve. Your grandmother had denied your request to have some of your school friends attend, citing that there was no room on the guest list for half-bloods and blood traitors. When you finally slept, it was restless and you kept waking up, a pit in the bottom of your stomach. Finally, about the fifth time you woke up it was light enough outside that you could call it morning, so you dressed in a dressing gown and tiptoed downstairs.

Your house was spotless, covered in flowers and decoration even though the ceremony would be held outside. You snuck into the kitchen and snagged an apple before going to the window to look at the backyard. Every bush was meticulously manicured. Chairs were set up with a white runner between them, leading to an altar adorned in more flowers. It was a bit too frilly for your taste but it wasn’t bad. You ate your apple, staring out over the scene before you, trying to picture yourself walking down that aisle, Sirius at the other end. You shuddered.

“Y/N, you’re up early.” You turned to look at your mother and shrugged.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Too excited?”

“Something like that,” You murmured and your mother looked at you with pity.

“Come here dear child,” She offered you a hand and you came forward, taking it. She pulled you into a hug and you went limp in her arms. “It will be alright. I promise you.” You didn’t believe her but you still tried to seek comfort in her words. You found none.

“I don’t want to be married,” You whispered.

“I know, darling, but this is what is best for you, you must trust me.” You continued to cling to your mother like you were a little girl again. “You will return to Black manor after the wedding and I will miss you dearly.” You’d already had this conversation, this argument. “You will go to school, Sirius will graduate, and you will have a home of your own to return to by next summer. One more year of school for you and you’re done. You’ll be all set. A home, a husband, a life. It will be fine.”

“Right,” Fine.

You spent hours getting your hair and makeup done perfectly, all the while micromanaged by your grandmother who was in full force. If she couldn’t pick your dress out she was going to have a say in the rest of the ensemble. Finally, you were left alone for a few moments. You looked around at your bedroom, most of the important things already packed into a few trunks to be moved to Black manor. Your door opened and your father stood there, he was to give you away- literally and figuratively.

“It is time. Come.” You walked to him taking his offered arm. He led you through the home you had grown up in and you felt a swell of emotions within you that you did your best to suppress. He stopped at the doors to the garden and waited for the music to start. One of your cousins was a flower girl and she stepped out first, throwing more petals onto the runner as she went. You were next. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as your father covered your face with your veil. Another few seconds past and he began walking, taking you with him. It felt like a dream- or maybe it was a nightmare. Either way you didn’t feel like it was real. The guest list was small and intimate, which made it easier. You kept your eyes trained forward as you walked and they landed on your soon to be husband. He looked handsome, standing there in his black dress robes, a flower pinned to his chest. He was looking back at you, an unreadable expression on his aristocratic features.

You stopped just in front of him. Your father turned you towards him and lifted the veil again, leaning down to kiss your cheek with an emotionless face. This entire event was all for show, to fulfill some meaningless expectations that didn’t matter. He turned you back towards Sirius who offered you his hand, you took it, allowing yourself to move up to stand across from him. You didn’t listen to a word of the ceremony, only tuning in when your hand was squeezed.

“Do you, Sirius Black, take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?” So many promises in such a fleeting moment for a union without any love. Sirius looked at you, holding your gaze.

“I do. I take you, Y/N, to be my wife from this day forward, to join with you and share with you all that is to come, and I promise to be faithful to you, to protect you, until death do us part.” He went off script. The script you had been forced to sit down and memorize for the last three weeks. What did you need protecting from?

Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Sirius Black to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?” You felt your throat closing up with panic as you looked at the man-the boy in front of you. As long as you both shall live, you repeated to yourself. He squeezed your hand again and you took a deep breath.

“I-I do. I, Y/N, take you, Sirius, to be my wedded husband, with your faults and your strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and my strengths. I will help you when you need help, and turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life." As if it were a choice.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride. May Merlin bless this union.” Sirius took your other hand in his as well, so he was holding both in his. You never expected to be kissing your husband for the first time in front of a crowd of people- and you certainly didn’t expect the man in front of you to be Sirius Black. He leaned in and you fought to keep from pulling back. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, letting it linger for a moment as the guest applauded. When he pulled away he offered you a gentle smile which you returned.

The reception was dull, even with Sirius by your side and the several glasses of wine you managed to consume. You danced when you were ordered to dance, socialized when you were ordered to socialize and ate at the designated times. Pictures were taken and you couldn’t help but wonder how they would look tacked up on the wall of your future home. Together. It was a weird feeling, to think about a future with the man, but it was becoming slowly less unpleasant. Towards the end of the night, Mrs. Black approached the two of you, placing an iron grip on Sirius’s arm and you didn’t miss how his entire mood shifted.

“You will go inside, and floo home. There is more business to tend to here, for the adults. We will be home in an hour or so, you two will be in bed.”

“Alright,”

“Yes mother.” She corrected and he merely rolled his eyes at her. You began to panic. You were leaving? Now? You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to your mother. Sirius lead you into your house, into the quiet stillness that was welcomed. You stopped just inside, putting a hand on his shoulder as you slipped off your heels, holding them in your hand offering him a slightly lopsided and halfhearted smile.

“I’ve been waiting to take these off all night,” You admitted, and he chuckled, offering you his arm as you walked through the house.

“I don’t blame you, I couldn’t imagine going through that torture with the added bonus of being on stilts.” You snorted and he gave you the first genuine smile of the evening.

“You’re cute when you do that.” Your cheeks burned as you entered the parlor where the fireplace was. Sirius helped you inside and took a handful of floo powder before announcing ‘Black manor’ and you were gone. Gone from your home you had grown up in, gone from your mother and your life and everything you were used to. You were now in an unfamiliar sitting room, surrounded by unfamiliar walls. Regulus sat on one of the sofas a book in hand.

“Congratulations to the happy couple,” He drawled.

“Shove it.” Sirius muttered, taking your hand and leading you from the room, up the stairs, and down the hall. He opened his bedroom door and ushered you inside. You looked around your husband’s room. You were hit with a wave of something. Sadness? It was the room of a boy, not a man, not a husband. A boy, because that’s what he was after all. Quidditch posters littered the walls, along with a grand Gryffindor banner that looked like it was stolen straight from the great hall- hell it probably was. Knick knacks and books and magazines littered his desk; at least he managed to put his laundry in the hamper.

“It’s not much but it’s home.”

“It’s lovely, very... you.” Sirius went to his bed, pulling a box out from underneath, opening it to reveal a full bottle of firewhiskey. “Shall we have a toast?” He asked hesitantly and your shoulders relaxed.

“God yes,” You breathed and he chuckled, opening it. You came to the bed, sitting down beside him. Sirius took a long swig from the bottle before handing it over to you, and you did the same.

“So... wife,” He started and you smirked slightly, handing the bottle back and watching him take another large gulp.

“Yes, husband?”

“Weird isn’t it?” He asked and you nodded, accepting the bottle when he handed it back.

“Really weird.”

“Bad?” He asked and you smiled slightly, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Could be worse. They could have married me off to a Malfoy.” He laughed at that. You continued to talk about anything besides the wedding, besides your future. You became more and more relaxed in his presence as you drank and finally got the chance to properly talk. You moved from sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed to lounging across it, you laying on your stomach and Sirius laying with his back against his pillows. You felt light and happy for the first time in a month. You two sat, giggling as Sirius recounted one of his finer pranks against Severus Snape. You snorted again, covering your mouth as you pictured the look on the slimy gits face.

“Have you always done that?” He asked and you quirked a brow at him.

“Done what?”

“Snort when you laugh, I never noticed it before.”

“I didn’t think you noticed anything about me before..” You admitted. Sirius nudged you.

“Course I did. Smart, funny, and pretty. You’re a trifecta my dear.” You felt yourself blush again, looking down at the half empty bottle between you.

“Thank you,” You murmured and he shrugged. You stifled a yawn as Sirius looked at you softly.

“Sleepy?”

“A bit.”

“We can go to bed.” He offered and you nodded. You looked around, suddenly aware that your trunks weren’t there in his room, they had probably been delivered downstairs, if they’d been delivered yet. Seeming to read your mind Sirius peeled himself from the bed, going over to his dresser. He took out a t-shirt of a muggle band you didn’t recognize and tossed it towards you. He went to another drawer and rooted around for a moment before coming up with a pair of boxers.

“These are old, they should fit you,” He stated, tossing them as well, you caught them, rosy cheeks. He pointed to the door that was slightly ajar, “Bathroom is in there,” You nodded, and climbed out of the bed, smoothing out your dress.

“Thank you.” You went into the bathroom and once you were changed you reemerged. The t-shirt was long on you, covering the boxers you were wearing. Sirius was lounging on the bed in a pair of sweatpants, shirtless. You averted your gaze, scratching the back of your neck. Sirius sat up, seeing you hesitate.

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” He asked and you shook your head, going to place your dress over the back of his desk chair.

“No, that’s alright.” You promised. He looked handsome basked in nothing but the light of the moon and the small oil lamp on his bedside table. You climbed into bed beside the boy and he pulled the covers over both of you, reaching over you to turn the lamp off. You flushed again with him so close to you. He moved away and you a moment past where you missed the proximity. Sirius laid back into his pillows, and you curled up on your side facing him. He turned his head and smiled at you.

“Goodnight, my wife.” He raised a hand, brushing a lock of your hair away from your face.

“Goodnight, Sirius.” He leaned over then, placing a small kiss on your cheek before settling back in with a large yawn. You remained curled up on your side until well after he had fallen asleep. You were exhausted but being surrounded by so much unfamiliarity you couldn’t sleep. Eventually you drifted off to the tune of your husband's light breathing. Your new norm.

#Harry Potter #Sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you

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