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#or nothing ever happens/i hardly do anything and when i glance at the clock its been 2 hours
devotioncrater · 2 months
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im scared i am losing the ability to work
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jjunieworld · 5 months
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09. more than anything ⸝ ˚⋆
↳ half written, half texts. word count: 1.1k
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— SOOBIN’S POV —
soobin could hardly wait until 3:30pm. he was so anxious about it, in fact, that he skipped the class he had before it all together.
he sat on his bed debating on what to do. should he bring something for her? no, that definitely makes him look insincere. she he put on nicer clothes? he didn’t know. so he instead sat on his bed frozen, all these thoughts going through his head.
the clock ticked by and every five seconds soobin would check his phone to make sure time didn’t jump five hours instead and he missed his only chance to explain himself. currently, it was 3:15pm. it takes him seven minutes to walk down to the cafe from his dorm.
should i get there early? soobin thought. perhaps. if he left now, he would get to the cafe at 3:21pm. maybe that’s too desperate, he concluded.
minutes ticked by and soobin decided he couldn’t wait any longer. he rushed out of his building and made the trek to the cafe.
when he arrived, it was 3:25pm. he tried looking through the window of the cafe for y/n, but he couldn’t see anything.
suddenly a thought forced its way into his head. what if she wasn’t here? what if she changed her mind?
as he pushed through the doors, he let out a sigh of relief. there y/n sat, at the same table she helped soobin at a lifetime ago. she didn’t look up at the sound of the bell, her eyes were downcast and she had a blank look on her face.
when soobin sat down all she did was look up at him. it felt like she was looking right through him. this y/n looked and felt so different from the y/n from over a week ago.
wordlessly, she put her phone face up on the table, the timer set for ten minutes on it. she pressed start and looked back up at soobin.
his heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to get his words together. the weight of knowing she was timing him didn’t make it any better.
he started by apologizing, profusely. then he went into what exactly happened that night, the drinking, the jealousy, the argument with sakura, and finally, the words he didn’t mean.
“i know people say that what you say in the heat of the moment are your true words, but i swear to you i didn’t mean that,” he breathed. he glanced down at her phone. five more minutes. y/n stared at him, once again saying nothing. so soobin continued.
“and to answer your question… it’s not that i was ignoring you. well, i guess i was, but not in the way you think. i promise! i was avoiding the feelings that came with seeing you. being near you. i like you, y/n. more than i’ve ever liked anyone. and i didn’t understand those feelings at first, i still kinda don’t. i thought that if i avoided you, then maybe they would go away. i didn’t even think about how that would affect you, and i’m truly sorry for that.”
the words spilled out of his mouth one by one until he couldn’t stop. he wanted to tell her more, but he got the majority of what he wanted to say across. and he only had two more minutes left.
soobin waited for y/n to say something, but for the remaining two minutes she simply stared at him with that same blank look. he desperately wished he knew what she was thinking. any indication that his words didn’t go in one ear and straight out the other.
her phone buzzed on the table when the two minutes were up. she grabbed it, stood up, and left the cafe without saying a single word to soobin.
soobin sat at the table stumped. he stared at the chair across from him where she just sat that was now bare. did he fuck it all up? was it all truly over?
after a couple more minutes, he too stood, and moved to leave the cafe.
he wasn’t paying attention as he went to open the door, too inside his head. so he was very shocked when it opened right in his face. a pissed looking yunjin pushed him backwards, demanding him to sit the hell down. and so he went and sat back at the table he was just at.
“of all the places…” she muttered under her breath as she sat. “of all the places…” she said again, louder, “of all the places she would disappear to when i go to check on her, she was here with you.”
she scoffed and looked up at him. he went to say something, but she held a hand up.
“shut up. i don’t want to hear it. she gave you one last chance, you’re very lucky. you try and pull some stupid shit like that again…” yunjin trailed off. she was so angry she could barely get her words out. soobin understood. she scoffed again, looked him up and down, and left.
soobin ran his hands through his hair. he’s done so so many times today that the strands were probably sticking up at this point.
he went over yunjin’s words. “she gave you one last chance, you’re very lucky.” indeed, he was, and he wasn’t going to blow it again.
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classes were finally over and soobin could finally take his long awaited nap. late classes were actually torture.
as he was walking to the elevator, he felt someone come up next to him. he looked over to see y/n.
she didn’t look at him. instead her gaze was solely focused on the hallway in front of her. soobin smiled a little to himself and kept walking. he could feel some lingering stares on them, but he couldn’t care less. all that mattered was that she was next to him.
y/n moved to the side of the small crowd waiting by the elevator and soobin followed. she waited as they all got on said elevator, and until the elevator came back up empty. they got on, standing side by side, and soobin watched her.
he was willing to wait however long it took for y/n to speak to him.
soobin felt her hand slide into his. a smile broke out on his face as she looked up to him.
“you like me?” y/n asked him. “more than anything,” he replied. she smiled back at him. she nodded a little to herself as she looked back down.
“good,” she said. she looked back up to him. “you owe me another date.” soobin laughed a little and then nodded. “where do you want to go?”
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masterlist.
summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.
A/N: yunjin do nawt play… she gets down… double upload as a present! happy holidays!! ♡
taglist: @imagineyour-kpopboy @gothgyuu @carengene (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)
— kipo <3
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caashmoneynae · 6 months
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OTHERSIDE OF THE GAME.
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JOEY BADA$$ AS UNIQUE FROM "RAISING KANAN" x BLACK!FEM!OC
SUMMARY: in which Cyrenae is afraid that one day Unique will either be arrested or will no longer come home due to the life he lives. little does she know, her biggest fear is about to come true… ✨
𝗖𝗬𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗘 scrubbed the dirty dishes in the soapy dishwater as she looked up from the sink and stared out the window in front of her, beginning to dissociate while her bottom lip absentmindedly made its way into her mouth.
(A/N: pronounced 'SIGH•RUH•NAY')
she knew being married to someone who was involved in the dope game wasn't easy, but her anxiety was starting to get the best of her the past few days. the streets seemed more tense than usual and Cyrenae's intuition immediately knew something wasn't right, but Unique hardly ever told her anything because he didn't want to worry her. despite this, she was always still worried, especially about him and his safety.
she was afraid that one night she'd get that one phone call that Unique had either been murdered or arrested, and either situation would make break her heart. whether it was to the streets or the jailhouse, Cyrenae was scared of losing him. she loved him too much to lose him, and them having a set of 3-year-old twins — one boy and one girl — didn't help her anxiety at all.
❝ WHAT YOU GONNA DO WHEN THEY COME FOR YOU? WORK AIN'T HONEST BUT IT PAYS THE BILLS. ❞
Cyrenae knew Unique was far too deep in the game to give up on it now, but she prayed for him every time he went out, practically begging God to let her husband come back home in one piece. she couldn't bare the pain of being a widow, but she definitely couldn't stand the thought of their children losing their father.
how would she explain to them what happened to their dad? how could she go to the funeral and face his casket? how would their lives go on with that missing piece of their family tree?
it was too much to think about at once, and Cyrenae hated having these thoughts because she didn't want to speak them into existence. plus, she hated to think about them, so she constantly pushed them to the back of her mind until they eventually crept back up to the front 10x stronger than before, and then she'd have no choice but to deal with them.
she just hoped that nothing bad would happen to her or her family, but because of the life Unique lived, it was practically inevitable.
❝ WHAT WE GONNA DO WHEN THEY COME FOR YOU? GAVE ME THE LIFE THAT I CAME TO LIVE. ❞
"yo, mama! where you at?" the sound of Unique's voice knocked Cyrenae out of her deep thoughts and she softly cleared her throat as she let go of her bottom lip and looked down at the sink, resuming washing the dishes while the sound of the door shutting and locking filled her eardrums.
glancing over at the clock on the microwave, it read '11:58 P.M.' in blue writing and Cyrenae let out a soft sigh in relief that he had come home safely yet again, silently thanking God under her breath before parting her lips to respond to her lover.
"i'm in the kitchen, baby," Cyrenae responded, her voice softer than normal, as she rinsed off the suds from the dish she had been scrubbing for the past few minutes and sat it in the dish rack so it'd air-dry, her ears pricking up at hearing the sound of his boots come closer to where she was while she stuck her hands back into the sink and reached for the last plate, "i put your plate in the microwave 'cause i didn't know what time you'd be home. i cooked pasta."
"why you sound like that?" Unique asked, his brows slightly furrowing at the difference in how her voice would usually sound, as Cyrenae kept her back towards her husband and scrubbed the dish in her hands, "baby, what's wrong?"
❝ DO I REALLY... WANT MY BABY? ❞
"nothin', 'Deem." Cyrenae fibbed, shaking her head, as her honey blonde mid-back length cornrows shifted with the movement of her head and she heard more footsteps before feeling a hand rest on the right side of her hip, causing her body to tingle yet relax at the same time.
"you know i can tell when you lyin' to me, Cy'. be real wit' me, shorty." Unique assured softly, looking down at her, as Cyrenae let out a low sigh and rinsed the suds off the last dish before sitting it in the dish rack, removing the stopper in the drain and letting out the dirty water in the sink.
"i'm scared, Kadeem." Cyrenae mumbled, yet Unique heard her loud and clear, as she turned the faucet on and rinsed the sink clear of leftover soap suds before squirting some soap into her hands and rubbing them together so she could wash them.
"scared of what? don't tell me Raq' and her brothers approached you on some weird shit again, Cy'—"
the word "again" left Unique's lips because Raquel and her brothers had tried to intimidate Cyrenae when they saw her at the grocery store last week. Marvin didn't say a word and Lou really didn't say much, but Raquel was practically threatening Cyrenae as if she was apart of the tension between the two, which was extremely far from the truth because Unique refused to let Cyrenae be involved in his drug operation.
Cyrenae knew being his wife would create tension between his enemies and she was okay with that, but Raquel threatening her over something that didn't even have shit to do with her made her angry. she had two kids at home, what would she look like fighting her husband's battles?
the thing is though, out of their whole family, it seemed as if Raquel was the only one who had a serious problem with her. her brothers didn't really pay attention to her — apart from Marvin flirting with her on occasions, Kanan and Famous talked to her whenever they saw her out, and Jukebox — aka Laverne — was practically her best friend.
though there was a semi-large age gap between the two — Juke being 17 and Cyrenae being 24 — they were as close as sisters. Cyrenae knew her before she met Unique, so when Cyrenae brought him up to Laverne's attention, she didn't bash her for it. she explained her family's feud with him to her and told her "you don't got nothin' to do wit' that tho', so i think you should go for it", which made Cyrenae respect her more than she already did.
unlike Kanan, Juke kept herself out of her aunt's business anyway, so she couldn't care less if Cyrenae dated him. as long as she was happy, that was all that mattered to her.
as for Raquel... that was a different story. Cyrenae didn't even know how she found out about her and Unique, but ever since she found out it was like she was trying to drag her into their drama, and Cyrenae nor Unique was going for it. even Lou told her she was wrong for it because Cyrenae didn't do anything wrong, but she completely disregarded what he had to say, claiming that the woman was a "bigger threat" and could be "plotting with Unique" to take down her business.
the constant disrespect Cyrenae took from Raquel made her realize that there was a high chance she could be attracted to Unique and that's why she was acting the way she was, but there wasn't any proof to back up her claim apart from how cruel she was to his wife. there was no telling what she was thinking or saying behind closed doors, and to be honest, Cyrenae didn't think she wanted to find out.
❝ BROTHER, TELL ME... WHAT TO DO. ❞
"mm-mm. her and her brothers ain't do nothin' to me," Cyrenae assured softly, holding her hands underneath the water spewing from the faucet, as she scrubbed her hands together and watched the soap create suds while she ran her tongue over her lips, "i'm scared for you."
her words hit Unique like a bucket of bricks and his face softened up at the woman as he watched her grab a towel to dry her hands with and she hesitantly turned to face him, locking eyes with him and alerting him that tears were sitting in her pretty brown eyes.
"i'm worried, Kadeem. somethin' don't feel right and it just feels like somebody's plottin'," Cyrenae explained, setting the towel down, as she gently cupped his face in her hands and felt his arms wrap around her waist, "the streets seem tenser than they've ever been, and i'm scared to find out why. Raq's plannin' something, baby. i just know it."
"and... i'm scared... that one day you won't come home to me," Cyrenae's voice went back to its soft tone and a stray tear slid down her brown-skinned face as she laid her head on his clothed and broad chest, "one day i won't be able to hold you anymore. one day i won't be able to kiss you anymore. one day i won't be able to tell you how much i love and appreciate everything you've done for our family... one day our kids are gonna lose their father."
❝ I KNOW YOU GOT TO GET YO' HUSTLE ON, SO I PRAY. ❞
"baby, you not gon' lose me, a'ight? you never gon' lose me. even if i die, i'll always be here with you and the kids and my spirit will live through y'all. but until then, stop talkin' 'bout death, a'ight? ain't nobody dyin', shorty." Unique assured softly, rubbing her back, as Cyrenae let out a soft sniffle and wiped a tear with the tip of her thumb, wrapping her arms around his torso while she held him close to her.
"something doesn't feel right, Kadeem. and with your jacket goin' missin', it doesn't help my overthinkin'," Cyrenae mumbled, referring to his "Unique" jacket, "they got somethin' to do with that, and i know they do."
Unique's customized "Unique" jacket suddenly vanished from the backseat of his car earlier this week, and Cyrenae hasn't been able to shake the thought of it. it didn't feel right that the jacket just randomly disappeared and nobody knew where it was. it was eerily suspicious, and Cyrenae had a feeling that Raquel and her brothers had something to do with it.
"don't worry 'bout them or that jacket, a'ight? it'll come up sooner or later. you gon' stress ya'self out more than you should tryna' figure out what they thinkin' and what they plannin'," Unique responded, kissing her forehead, as he rested his cheek against her head and the gold hoop in his ear sat against her scalp, "focus on us, a'ight? focus on you, me, and our troublesome ass twins."
❝ I UNDERSTAND THE GAME, SOMETIMES. AND I LOVE YOU STRONG, MM. BUT... ❞
cracking a smile, Cyrenae let out a soft chuckle as the two of them rocked back and forth, "they was askin' for you before i put 'em to sleep."
"yeah? what they say?" Unique chuckled, running his tongue over his lips, as he raised his head and Cyrenae raised hers as well, causing the two to make eye contact while she played with his chain.
"talkin' 'bout they wanna sleep in one of Daddy's fur coats 'cause they smell like you." Cyrenae chuckled, lightly tapping his chain with her manicured fingers, as she let out a giggle and Unique smiled at the thought of their interaction, making his heart swell with adoration while he kissed her lips.
"you better have given my babies they fur coats."
"i shol' did. you wanna see?"
walking down the hallway, Cyrenae opened the bedroom door as the couple's eyes locked on their sleeping toddlers in their small toddler beds, two of Unique's fur coats thrown over both of them while soft snores filled the room. smiles crept onto the adults' faces and they locked eyes as Unique kissed her temple and Cyrenae's smile slightly widened while she gently closed the door and let out a soft chuckle in slight disbelief.
she still couldn't believe she had a child, let alone twins. motherhood felt so surreal for her, and she was extremely grateful that she found the love of her life and was blessed with two beautiful children.
❝ WHAT YOU GONNA DO WHEN THEY COME FOR YOU? WORK AIN'T HONEST BUT IT PAYS THE BILLS. ❞
"one day i'ma tuck 'em in for you, mama. i know that gotta' be hectic as hell with they hyper asses." Unique chuckled, earning a soft laugh from Cyrenae, as the woman nodded her head and the couple walked across the hall to their bedroom.
"trust me, youn' know the half, man. i'm tellin' you, they get that hyper shit from you, baby," Cyrenae laughed, looking into her vanity mirror and checking her hair to make sure there were no flyaways, as Unique laughed and shrugged off his jacket while he made his way to his closet, "you want me to run you a bath, pa?"
"run us a bath. you know i'ma make you join me." Unique corrected, making Cyrenae playfully roll her eyes with a soft chuckle, as his eyes locked on something laying on the floor of the closet and his eyebrows furrowed while he sat his jacket down and squatted down to the level of the unknown item in his closet.
tying one of her husband's durags on her head to lay down her braids, Cyrenae was oblivious to what was happening behind her until she saw movement in the mirror she was standing in, her eyes locking on Unique who had stood up from his squatted position and seemed as if he had seen a ghost.
"what's wrong, Kadeem?" Cyrenae asked, her brows slightly furrowing at the change in his demeanor, as Unique slowly turned around and Cyrenae's eyes locked on the item in his arms before she abruptly paused, realizing the object he had found lying in his closet was his missing "Unique" jacket that was covered in blood, "...baby..."
their eyes locked and Cyrenae could see the confusion in his irises, causing a bone-chilling fear to go down her spine. suddenly, the front door of the home was kicked in and the couple's heads snapped towards their bedroom door as sounds of heavy footsteps belonging to multiple sets of feet made their way through the house and down the hallway, inching closer to the bedroom and causing the hairs on Cyrenae's neck to stand up.
the unknown visitors were soon revealed to be the police, and they walked into the bedroom armed heavily with guns raised as the officers pushed Unique up onto a wall and Cyrenae froze in fear, a million thoughts running through her mind at once while she watched her husband be arrested.
"Kadeem Mathis, you are under arrest for the shooting of Detective Malcolm Howard. anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law." these words cause sweat to boil at Cyrenae's hairline as her palms sweated profusely and her breathing got caught in her throat, her breathing heavy and uneven while she stumbled a bit and leaned up on her vanity before tightly gripping the wooden material.
"yo, y'all got the wrong muh'fucka'! i ain't shoot that fuckin' cop!" the room was filled with loud chatter and Cyrenae grew afraid that they'd wake the children, but she was too frightened to move from where she stood. she didn't want to raise the tension in the room higher than it already was, and these cops seemed extremely trigger-happy so Cyrenae made sure not to make any sudden move to avoid getting shot.
her biggest fear was coming true before her own eyes, and she couldn't bare to see it. seeing the love of her life be aggressively handled by the police awakened a different kind of fear inside of her, and she was the most afraid she had ever been in her life. despite being involved in a shootout once or twice because she was out with Unique, those didn't scare her as much because she knew Unique wouldn't allow her to be hurt. but seeing loads of officers fill her home to get her husband made her feel helpless and hopeless all in one.
did Unique shoot Detective Howard like they say he did? how did the jacket get back into their home after it had been missing for the past few days? whose blood was on the jacket? would all the noise wake up her children? would she be shot if she left the room to check on her toddlers? if it was true, would she ever see Unique again?
so many questions ran through Cyrenae's mind and it seemed as if more were being created within the seconds that passed by. her breathing became shallow and her vision started to falter as her grip tightened on her vanity, feeling as if her oxygen supply was being cut short while she grew dizzy.
"K...Kadeem..." Cyrenae whispered, her words inaudible and choppy, as she rested her palm on her forehead to ease the incoming migraine and she blinked a few times to try to focus her vision, but to no avail.
Cyrenae's vision focused for a split second and she locked eyes with a police officer before she unexpectedly passed out, her knees buckling and her body hitting the floor with a thud while her eyes gradually shut.
"Cyrenae!"
❝ WHAT WE GONNA DO WHEN THEY COME FOR YOU? GOD, I CAN'T STAND LIFE WITHOUT YOU. ❞
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blu-joons · 3 years
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When They’re Whipped For You ~ BTS Reaction
Jin:
The moment you heard that Jin had plans with the boys for the evening, your stomach dropped, turning to face him in confusion.
“I thought you agreed to come with me to the works dinner tonight?” You asked once he’d finished telling you all about what the boys had planned to do together.
“Oh,” he sighed, looking away from your eyes as a hand ran through his hair. “I can text the boys and cancel, I completely forgot about your dinner. We can always meet up another night when I’m free.”
You sighed at the panic in his voice, “I can go to the dinner by myself, it’s really no big deal.”
At your words, his head shook instantly, “there’s no way I’m going back on my promise to you. I’ll just tell the boys I didn’t check the calendar properly, I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“It’s alright,” you laughed, walking across to him, “I know you’d much prefer to spend the evening with the boys instead of my colleagues, so just go with them.”
“I’m not going with the boys,” he continued to argue, “you’re the one I sorted things with first, and it’s you who I’ll spend my evening with too.”
“Damn Jin, you really are a sucker for me sometimes.”
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Yoongi:
When Yoongi returned to the group with his basket full, all eyes flickered down to look at all of the things he’d purchased on his trip.
“I’m guessing those aren’t for you,” Jungkook giggled, shyly pointing to a box of tampons that sat on the top of his basket. “Has Y/N got you shopping for her now too?”
“She needs them,” Yoongi quickly defended, “and when you all get girlfriends, you’ll understand how difficult a period can be for them. She’s hardly in a state to be able to go to the shop herself.”
All of them rolled their eyes at how defensive he was, “you’re a sucker for her, she’s got you whipped.”
Yoongi’s head shook at Jimin’s words, “shopping for my girlfriend does not make me whipped, it just makes me a kind and caring boyfriend, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“If you’re not whipped, why are you arguing so badly?” Namjoon laughed back at him, “there’s nothing wrong with being whipped, I’m sure Y/N loves all the control too.”
“I know that none of you would ever say this in front of Y/N,” Yoongi sniggered, “but I could always record it for her if you guys wanted me to?”
“No way, she’d kill us if she knew what we said.”
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Hoseok:
The squeal that came from you was huge as you walked into the kitchen to see a spider darting across the floor, calling out Hobi’s name quickly.
“Help,” you whimpered as he ran into the room, pointing to the insect. Straight away, Hobi ran over and placed his hands around it, taking it out into the garden.
“It’s gone,” he smiled, brushing his hands off before closing the door, spinning around to see a wide smirk plastered across your face. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve done something wrong?”
Your head shook, “you’ve done nothing wrong I just love seeing how whipped you are for me.”
“I’m not,” he protested, shaking his head back at you, “I just know how scared you are of stuff like this, so I thought I’d get it out before it managed to get away.”
Your eyebrows raised at his statement, “you’re usually terrified of spiders, and yet you caught that one without even thinking, that means you’re whipped.”
“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, moving across the room to wrap his arms around you, “would you prefer it if I wasn’t whipped for you though?”
“No way, I love that you’ll do absolutely anything for me.”
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Namjoon:
The guilt hit him as soon as he shook Yoongi awake, taking a step back as his eyes opened and glanced across at the clock beside him.
“Could you do me a favour?” Namjoon questioned from beside him, “I need someone to pick Y/N up from the club she’s at, I offered to get her, but I can’t really get there.”
“Really?” Yoongi frowned, “it’s four in the morning, why would you offer to get her when you can’t drive?” He sighed, “and why did I have to be the one that you decided to wake up at this time?”
Namjoon frowned across at him, “please, I can’t leave her there on the streets at a time like this.”
With a sigh, Yoongi sat himself up on his bed, “I know that you’d do absolutely anything for her, but that doesn’t mean that all of us would do anything for Y/N too Joon.”
“I know,” he admitted, “but I really do appreciate you doing this, I’ll find a way to make it up to you too, prove how grateful I am for what you’re doing.”
“Go and get my car keys and I’ll be down in five,” Yoongi instructed as he pushed the duvet away from his body, “but you do owe me a big one for this.”
“And I’ll pay you back for it, don’t you worry Yoongi.”
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Jimin:
Your smile grew as you walked out of your office and saw Jimin sat outside of the building with the car door opened, waiting for you.
“You even get him to pick you up?” Your colleague chuckle from beside you, nudging gently at your side, “you really have got him wrapped around your finger.”
“I didn’t ask him to come and pick me up,” you laughed, meeting his eyes for the first time as he noticed you. “I guess he just enjoys doing all of these things for me instead.”
Your colleague sighed back at you, “he’s whipped for you, he really would do anything for you.”
A gentle blush found its way onto your cheeks, “I wouldn’t say no to a lift home in this weather anyway, it’s freezing. He’s a bit like a knight in shining armour really.”
“Maybe I need to find me a Jimin,” she teased, pushing you gently in the direction of the car. “Hurry, you don’t want to leave him waiting.”
“He’d wait all day for me,” you proudly smiled, “you really do need to find yourself a Jimin, it’s nice knowing that someone would do anything for you.”
“For you, he definitely would do absolutely anything!”
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Taehyung:
The confusion on your expression grew as you tried to figure out where each screw went in attempting to build your new beside table.
“This is stupid,” you muttered under your breath, glancing back yet again to see if Taehyung had noticed you. “Who invents furniture with instructions as messed up as this.”
“Y/N,” he laughed from the sofa, “I know what you’re getting at, all you had to do was ask me for a hand and I would’ve come and helped you,” he sniggered, rolling his eyes at your obvious signs.
Your smile grew gently, “I really did want to try and figure it all out for myself before I asked you.”
His head shook as he sat down on the floor beside you, “there’s no way you would’ve done this by yourself, I know you wanted me to do this for you from the start.”
“No,” you argued, but as he stared back at you, you knew he could read you as if you were a book. “Did I really make it that obvious that I needed your help.”
“Yes,” he sniggered, “I just wanted to see how long it would take before you caved. One way or another, I was going to be the one building this unit.”
“In that case, I guess I’ll just leave you to it, shall I?”
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Jungkook:
Throughout the entirety of the conversation over dinner that evening, Jungkook could only sit with a frown as he listened to their plans.
“Kook, you’ve been quiet,” Jin spoke up when he noticed the youngest staring off into the distance as they tried to arrange a time to all meet up again.
“I promised Y/N that we’d go out for dinner tonight,” he admitted, shyly looking away as the groans inevitably came from the rest of the boys that were sat around him.
Taehyung was the first to nudge against his side, “you only went out for dinner a few days ago?”
Jungkook nodded shamefully back at him, “there’s this restaurant she’s been dying to try, and we’ve finally got a reservation, I can’t go back on my word now.”
“What happened to the bro code?” Hobi teased, staring across at him, “are you bailing on us? Are we finally losing you to love and your relationship?”
“No,” he chuckled, holding his hands up in defence, “what if we switch dinner until tomorrow night, I’m available then without any plans, no doubt about it at all.”
“We might as well claim you before Y/N does.”
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---
Masterlist
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emmyhem · 3 years
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stormy fears & feelings (l.r.h)
a/n: hey everyone! here’s “stormy fears & feelings”, this is a nonfamous au with roommate!luke. (unedited as usual) this was really fun to write, i intended for it to be short and sweet but i ended up writing for longer than i had originally planned. anyway, i hope you enjoy and are having a great day/night/whatever. i appreciate any and all feedback, and as always my messages are always if you want to chat or anything :) thank youuuu - emmy <33
pairing: roommate!luke hemmings x fem!reader 
summary: a thunderstorm leaves you awake and scared, and going to your standoffish roommate, who you happen to have an extremely inconvenient crush on for comfort may be your only option to get a good night of sleep. 
warning(s): cursing, extremely minor injury, minor angst if you squint
word count: 5k
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It really was an awful idea. In any other case it wouldn’t have even crossed your mind, but you had been on edge all week for no specific reason and thunderstorms had always spooked you. 
The storm had started unexpectedly. If you had known earlier you would have ran to the store to buy Nyquil before going to bed, but with it sneaking up on you, you were huddled under your blankets, eyes squeezed impossibly tight in hopes to drown out the loud crashes and blinding flares of light flooding your bedroom window. 
When the thought originally passed through your head it was more of an internal sarcastic remark than a possible solution. 
 I mean, you had been living with your roommate, Luke for over 4 months now, but you weren’t really friends. You would occasionally chat with him if you were both up and about around the apartment, which was pretty rare seeing as Luke seemed to avoid you for the most part. Hurrying out of a room when you entered, ending conversations quickly, and always being conveniently busy when you had attempted to make plans to get to know each other better. Your living arrangement had only come to be because you had heard through a friend he was looking for a roommate at the same time that you had happened to be on the lookout for a new place. Your relationship consisted mainly of half-hearted greetings and subtle avoidances of each other. So, going to him for comfort wasn’t a viable option to soothe your nerves. 
Even if you did, what would you expect him to do? 
Sit up with you? No, not when you knew he had to wake up early for work. 
Talk you down? He wouldn’t even know what to say in the first place, your typical conversations were made up of checking if there was still coffee, or deciding whose turn it was to do the dishes. 
Offer up a space in his bed? Absolutely not. That was the most unthinkable of them all. If it wasn’t for the fact that Luke had always seemed pretty adamant with his personal space, sometimes tensing up if you even sat too close to him on the couch. Your annoying and inconvenient crush that had started the day you moved in, just wouldn’t allow the two of you to be in such close quarters without your heart racing and your head dizzying.  
It was out of the question, end of discussion. 
With that being said it only took one more boom of thunder to have you shoot up from your bed and pad quietly into the hallway, with fuzzy sock clad feet and a large quilt wrapped tightly around your shoulders. 
You stared at his bedroom door hesitantly until the next strike, during which you knocked ever so lightly and muttered a soft,
 “Luke,”
After a minute and no reply you resorted to giving up on your plan and heading to the kitchen to drink a cup of tea, in hopes it may help. The idea was good enough, but you had failed to consider the noise that comes along with it. And as if the whistling of the kettle and clattering of the mugs wasn’t enough, the next roar of thunder sent you into a shock causing you to stub your toe on the corner of the cabinet and let out a pained yelp. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth and sunk to the floor to assess the damage as you heard rustling and a door opening from the hall. 
Luke was in the kitchen in a matter of seconds, his long legs carrying him there within just a few steps. He hit a light switch, causing the kitchen to glow a dim yellow. 
“Y/n, you alright?” he grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he approached your crouched position on the floor. 
“Yea, yea I’m okay. Sorry, I woke you up.” you responded, mentally kicking yourself for causing such a disruption. 
“S’alright. What’s goin’ on? Why are you up?” he spoke, offering you a hand to pull yourself up. 
You accepted it, trying your hardest to ignore how warm it felt, and how easily it enveloped your own as you returned to your feet. 
“Uh, I just had a hankering for chamomile.” you lied. You really should’ve thought this through. Now that he was standing in front of you, admitting your fear of thunderstorms seemed daunting. You were an adult for chrissakes, an adult that was left shaking at the mere thought of a considerably common weather phenomenon.  
His eyebrows tugged in confusion as he glanced between you and the kettle. 
“Did you knock at my door a couple minutes ago?” he questioned as you watched the window over the sink nervously. 
Your eyebrows raised a bit at the inquiry.
“Thought I heard something, but then I figured I must’ve just imagined it. Y’know, woken myself up.” he continued. 
“Um, yep that was me.” you admitted, turning your back to him in hopes to hide your embarrassment. 
“So, was there a reason, or?” 
“Right, yea a reason.” you paused, searching for an excuse in your drowsy and distracted brain. “I wondered if you wanted a cup.” 
“In the middle of the night?” your subconscious deadpanned as your face scrunched in displeasure. 
You turned back around to face him, holding a mug out for him. 
Confusion and a glint of amusement was painted across his features as he spoke, 
“You wanted to know if I wanted a cup of tea,” he peeked at the clock behind you. “at 2:30 in the morning?” 
As you opened your mouth to defend your admittedly bad excuse another crash of thunder rumbled from the sky, causing your body to jump in fear and your hand to release its grip on the ceramic mug. Luke took a step back just in time as it shattered to pieces on the floor. 
You brought two shaky hands to your face and pressed yourself against the cabinet, cowering as far back as possible. 
“Hey, s’okay. It’s just thunder.” Luke said, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
You peeked out through your hands before dropping them from your face all together. 
Realization sparked on his face as your eyes met his. 
“Are you afraid of thunderstorms?” Despite his tone being soft, sweet even, you were sure he was making fun of you. 
“I-uh, no. No I’m not.” you rushed out, attempting to push past him and scurry into your bedroom. 
“Y/n, the glass.” he warned, his grip on your shoulder tightened, not allowing you to move. 
“Was that why you knocked earlier?” 
You nodded, hesitantly your eyes dropping to the floor. 
“I don’t know why, I just- thunderstorms have freaked me out since I was little and I normally would take something to help me fall asleep, but I didn’t have anything and...I shouldn’t even have tried to wake you up in the first place, there’s nothing you could do and we aren’t even friends or anything. Probably don’t even like me, I mean you can hardly even stand to be in the same room as me. Anyways I’ll be fine, lemme clean this up and then i’ll just head to my ro-” you rambled, not even pausing to take a breath. 
“You think I don’t like you?” he interrupted. 
Fuck. Was the scare so intense oxygen had been cut off from your brain? Why would you say all that? He didn’t need to know that you took notice of the fact that he avoided your company like the plague. 
Instead of responding you opted for grabbing the dustpan, the sooner the floor was clean the sooner you could get back to your room. Where you would sit awake in fear, by yourself for the rest of the night, no doubt replaying this embarrassing interaction over and over again. 
Luke stood seemingly frozen as you kneeled down beside him attempting to gather the broken shards, which was proving to be difficult with such shaky hands. 
With another bolt of lightening your hand shuddered and slipped from the brush, hitting a shard and slicing a thin cut on the pad of your pointer finger. 
“Shit” you hissed, dropping the dustpan to examine the tiny gash. 
Luke’s head snapped in your direction, eyes immediately filling with concern. 
“Ow” you whined quietly. 
He dropped down next to you and took the finger into his hands. 
“You should clean this out, I’ll finish this up.” he nodded to the remaining glass. 
“I can get it.” you protested. “You should get to bed, you have to work tomorrow.” you continued, making your way to the sink. 
“So do you.” he responded flatly, already finishing up cleaning as you looked around for a band aid. When you finally located the box of bandages Luke was behind you. 
“Lemme see.” he said, taking one from the box while he examined your finger. 
You watched his face intently as he carefully wrapped your cut with squinted eyes and a small pout. 
You had never seen Luke during the night. There was a certain softness to him that was completely foreign to you, one that made the thought of cuddling into him seem far too appealing for your liking. 
“I do like you, y/n.” he broke you out of your thoughts, uttering it so quietly you thought you may have imagined it. 
You nodded in acknowledgement, not knowing how to respond without further embarrassing yourself. 
“I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t” 
At this point he had finished bandaging you up which made the fact that he was still standing a mere inches apart from you with his hand wrapped around yours, all the more affecting. 
“M’sorry I even brought it up, I’m just tired cause of the storm, and apparently I lose a filter with no sleep.”
His hand lightly squeezed yours as you spoke, and the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as he did so told you it was time to go back to your room. You gingerly tugged your hand away, ignoring the way Luke’s expression faltered when you did. 
“I’m sorry again, about all of this. You should get some sleep.” 
“Will you be able to?”
“I’ll be fine, one night of lost sleep is hardly the end of the world.” you responded, taking a step towards the hallway. Luke caught your arm before you got far. 
“Yea, but you lose your filter when you're tired, you said it yourself.” A small grin grew on his face as he continued. “Can’t have you spilling all your secrets tomorrow.” 
Was he joking around with you? 
Before you could stop it, a pleased smile appeared on your face. This was new. You didn’t even know he had a sense of humor, he had never attempted to share it with you before. 
“I’m sure I can control myself.” you returned, attempting to go once more. Of course, his voice stopped your movements within a second. 
“Y/n, let me help. How can I help?” 
The plausible reasoning for his sudden generosity was that he was feeling guilty or maybe even embarrassed that you were under the impression he didn’t like you. But that didn’t stop your entire body to warm at the offer. 
“There’s really not much to do.” you started. “I think the only reason I knocked in the first place is because I’m used to having some company when I get scared. Big family, y’know there was never a shortage of beds I could crawl into.” 
“Company!” he repeated, eyes lit up. “I can do that. I have it on very good authority that I’m an excellent cuddler.” 
Your body froze at his words. He couldn’t be serious, right? There’s no way he had any interest in that, even if it was just for your sake. 
He must’ve noticed your tenseness at the proposition because before you got a chance to respond, a bright red blush overtook his cheeks and he squeaked out, 
“Or the floor, I could always take the floor. I mean company can be just my presence in the room, I guess. If you want.” 
“No. I mean-um, I could go for a cuddle.” you heart answered before your brain got the chance to interfere. 
He smiled at you warmly. 
“Alright then.” 
You had never been into Luke’s room before, I mean not really. Sometimes you would sit his laptop in there if he had left it out or lay a sweatshirt of his on the foot of the bed but you had never actually been inside. It was slightly messy, there was a pile of clean, unfolded laundry on a desk chair, and a few empty water bottles scattered around but for the most part it was clean. On his bed the blankets were strewn about from where he must’ve been sleeping earlier, a pile of pillows stacked high on the right side, and it could’ve just been how tired you were but you had never wanted to crawl into a bed more. 
“I like your room.” you whispered, as he spread the pillows out more evenly across the top of the mattress. 
“Why’re we whispering?” 
“It’s nighttime.” 
“Y/n, we’re the only people who live here and we’re both awake.” he teased, laughing while shaking his head. 
“Oh, right.”
He gestured a hand to the bed, “Ladies first.” 
Hesitantly you sat, your back pressed against the mound of pillows Luke had compiled for you, shortly after he took a seat next to you, leaving a few inches of space between your legs. You looked down to your lap, aware of how awkward of a position the two of you were in, neither knowing how to go about this. Luke spoke first, 
“Are you warm enough?” 
“Yea, thanks.” 
“Mhm,” he hummed in response. “Do you wanna watch something?” 
“M’pretty tired.” you replied. “We should probably just go to sleep.” 
“Yeah, right.” he nodded, watching you. 
It seemed he was waiting for you to get comfortable, like he didn’t want to push any boundaries that you weren’t ready to cross. 
Unsurely you scooted your body down in the bed till you were fully horizontal, took one more glance at Luke and then turned your back to him, pulling the duvet up over your shoulders. With his blanket pulled up just under your nose you subtly breathed in the pine and vanilla aroma that you recognized as his body wash. You’d never admit to it but occasionally you’d spend a little extra time in the shower inhaling the fresh scent. 
A dip in the mattress told you that Luke had laid down and within a few minutes you were sure he was sleeping again. You were feeling a bit more calm, trying your hardest to ignore every loud crash of thunder and instead focus on counting the seconds between each soft breath Luke exhaled. 
Just as a drowsy haze began to come over you, straining your eyelids and fogging up your brain a particularly alarming rumble broke the silence causing your body to jerk and your breath to catch. Luke grumbled quietly beside you and you could feel him rolling around. As you opened your mouth to apologize for waking him a warm hand slipped just under the hem of your shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto the bare skin of your hip. Your body tightened at the unexpected contact and you strained your neck to look at him over your shoulder. 
“Luke,”
“Go to sleep, m’right here.” he mumbled without even opening his eyes. 
You faced back around but placed a hand over his and removed it from your body. This must’ve worried Luke because he pushed himself up on his elbow, eyes blinking open as you turned to face him. 
“Was that not good? I’m sorry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” he rambled through a defense. 
“No,” you shushed, pressing a hand to his chest to lightly push him back down. “s’good.” you assured while pulling his arm over your body as you tucked yourself into his chest. Your bodies were completely flush in this new position. “This is better.” you murmured, your nose bumping his chest as you made yourself comfortable. 
He hummed softly in agreement, his hand finding its way to your hair, cupping the back of your head. 
Sleep was sweeping over you fast like this, the sound of Luke’s heartbeat drowning out any daunting noise coming from outside. Not to mention that anytime your body so much as twitched Luke’s arms would tighten around you ever so slightly as if to assure he was still there with you. 
When the sun had risen you woke up to the sound of soft snores, and the feeling of tiny puffs of air on your forehead. As you tried to roll over and stretch your limbs you found your legs were tangled with someone else’s and your cheek was practically glued to the faded grey cotton that adorned your roommate’s chest. 
“Luke.” you called, using your hand to shake him awake.
“Shh” he whined, repositioning you both so your back was snug against his chest. 
“We have work.” you mumbled, trying to squirm out of his hold. It proved ineffective as he just tightened his arms around your stomach. 
He grumbled something incoherently that sounded an awful lot like “No, stay with me please. So warm.” but that couldn’t have been it. Right? 
Afraid he would dig himself further into this hole of sleepy deliriousness, you began to rouse him, prying yourself out of his arms and promising him a hot cup of coffee if he met you in the kitchen within ten minutes. 
You quickly washed your face, brushed your hair and teeth and made your way to the kitchen to fix two cups of coffee. Luke stumbled out of his bedroom just a few minutes later, his eyes squinted under the natural light flooding the windows and he seemed to almost glide across the tile until you and his coffee were in arm’s reach. 
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” you greeted in a teasing tone, pushing the mug across the counter to him. 
He hummed and took two large sips before turning his attention fully to you. 
“G’morning, did you sleep okay?” 
“Yeah, I actually did.” you affirmed. “Thank you for everything last night, Luke.” you rested your hand over his on the countertop, squeezing it once lightly to express your gratitude. 
When you pulled it away Luke’s eyes lingered over where your hand had previously been before he dragged his gaze up to meet your eyes. 
He released a deep sigh before speaking, “Happy to help, I’m honestly glad the storm happened.” 
“Happy to see me scared shitless, are we Hemmings?” 
He laughed through a denial, leaning forward to press his forehead on your shoulder where your loose fitting shirt had slipped. 
Your posture straightened as your stomach tied itself in knots, each one tightening with every exhale that brushed your bare skin. 
“No, I’m just glad that we can finally y’know, be-” 
“Friends.” you cut off. Because that’s what you would be, you had to remind yourself. You wouldn’t have Luke’s bed to crawl into every night. You wouldn’t have his firm chest under your palms each morning, or his hands tangled in your hair. Especially not in the way you really wanted them. 
Luke pulled off of you like he had been electrically shocked. 
“Friends” he repeated, and if you weren’t so busy pitying yourself you may have heard the subtle lilt in his voice that caused the word to come out as more of a question than a statement. 
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, and as the minutes passed this interaction was starting to feel more like the ones you typically had with Luke. 
“We should get ready for work, you have to go soon.” he spoke up, already walking away. 
“We should do something tonight.” you suggested. This is what you were afraid of, you had grown attached already. “Maybe watch something or, I don’t know.” Anything to be near you again. 
“I won’t be home.” he clipped, closing his bedroom door behind him. 
It really was an awful idea.
You hurried through your morning routine, carefully selecting any time you had to leave your bedroom to avoid bumping into Luke. What had gone wrong? Had the word friends spooked him? If that was the case, what would he have done if he found out what you really wanted to say? 
Either way you left feeling confused and rejected, so quickly you didn’t even realise you had forgotten your car keys until you were on the sidewalk outside your complex. 
“Shit.” you cursed, turning on your heel and storming back in the building. 
Once you had expertly made your way back inside the apartment and retrieved your keys, being as quiet as humanly possible to not alert Luke to the fact that you had re-entered, you were halfway out the door when the utterance of your name froze your movements. 
“She just left for work.” 
Luke must’ve been on the phone, but why was he talking about you? Curiosity got the best of you and you quietly shut the door with you on the inside, work could wait. 
“Because, Cal that’s not what she wants.” he sighed.
He was talking to Calum? The only friend you shared, and the connection through which you got a room here in the first place. 
“She wants to be my friend and I can’t do that. Not with her.” 
“Why not?” you whispered to yourself, taking a step further inside to hear him better. 
“No, it’s not better than nothing at all. I can’t be her friend ‘cause anytime she’s near me all I can think about is kissing her.” 
Your stomach dropped at his words and a small gasp escaped your mouth. All the dots began adding up in your head. The avoiding? Well he had just explained that, and honestly it was the best excuse you’d ever heard. His behavior last night? You had caught him with his guard down, he was forced to let you in. His sudden annoyance at the word friends this morning? You had shot him down and you hadn’t even realized it. You liked Luke, and he actually liked you back.
“Actually, avoiding does work.” he continued, breaking you from your thoughts. 
You could hear the mumble of Calum’s response but unfortunately couldn’t make out any of the words. 
“Last night was an exception, she was all cute and scared. There’s no way I could’ve turned her away. I’ll go right back to avoiding, and things’ll go back to normal. Suffer in silence, I’m telling you it works.” 
That’s not what you wanted, not at all. The creak of floorboards alerted you to Luke’s approaching and you hastily snuck out the front door, your mind running through possible solutions the whole way to your car. 
Luke hadn’t lied when he said he wouldn’t be home, which meant he was taking this whole avoiding thing seriously. It was 1:30 am and you were still up waiting for him, your seat at the dining room table was losing its appeal as your back cramped in pain. The original plan you had concocted in the hours you spent daydreaming about him at work was to wait up for him, lure him into a movie night and make a move while the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. You hadn’t planned for him to be out this late though, and in all honesty you were starting to worry. You hoped he was just crashing at a friend’s, you hoped he wasn’t alone, you really hoped he wasn’t with another girl. 
Discouraged, you moved your pity party into your bedroom, flopping onto your bed and groaning loudly into a pillow. You rolled onto your back, wasting time by counting the blades of the ceiling fan in each slow rotation. 
You were at 231 in your counting when you heard the front door open followed by the clambering of footsteps. You perked up and angled your ear towards the hall. 
“Please be alone. Please be alone. Please be alone.” you repeated quietly to yourself as the steps got closer. From the light protruding the crack under your bedroom door, you saw the shadow of a figure approach. You held your breath in anticipation of the knock you figured was coming. A few minutes passed, nothing came, and soon enough the shadow disappeared and Luke retreated to his bedroom. 
You stared out your window and for the first time in your life found yourself hoping for a storm. The sky was clear, hardly a cloud in sight, and the moonlight was warm and prominent. It would look so pretty on Luke’s face right now, all soft eyes and drowsy expressions. 
It seemed a shame to sleep by yourself, he was just across the hall, the promise of his warm embrace taunting you. 
You huffed in exasperation and jumped to your feet, “Here goes nothing.” 
You didn’t bother being quiet as you advanced to his door, leaving three heavy knocks on the worn oak. 
You could hear him shuffling inside and then the intimidating creak of the hinges, revealing him to you. 
“Are you okay?” he questioned sluggishly, his body slumping against the door frame.
“Can I sleep in here?” you asked instead of answering. No time to waste here. 
“Um, it’s not storming?” 
“I know. Can I?”
“Is there a reason?” he breathed, his heavy eyes drifting down your face to land unabashedly on your lips, which you were chewing in anxiousness.
“I have a crush on you.” you blurted, causing him to shoot up from his languid lean. 
“What?” 
“I have this big stupid crush on you. I have ever since I moved in but I thought you hated me because you always avoided me, but now I know that you like me too and I don’t see the point in us sleeping in separate beds anymore.” you continued, your eyes glued to a dip in the hardwood floor. 
“How did you ev-” 
“I heard you on the phone with Calum earlier.” you interrupted to explain, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I swear I wasn’t spying or anything, I forgot my keys.” 
Without saying a word Luke stepped to the side allowing you entrance. You shuffled past him but didn’t make it far before his hand caught your forearm and smoothly tugged you a mere inches from him. 
He spoke through heavy breaths, eyes flitting to your own as you faced him for the first time since your declaration. 
“You like me?” 
You could only nod, your brain completely fogged by the close proximity. 
His eyes fell from your eyes to your now bitten lips, “Can I?” he sighed as his hand found your chin, thumb brushing the skin timidly. 
“Y-yea” you agreed, leaning into his touch. 
He closed the gap between you with a gentle press of his lips, his hand slowly dragging up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake until it was tangled in your hair. As you relaxed into his hold his movements became more fervent, his tongue begging for entrance which you allowed when your mouth fell open with a flustered sigh. 
Luke stumbled backward dragging you along with him until the back of his calves met the foot of the bed and he dropped to sit on the edge, you standing between his legs. You pulled apart to breath and he spoke raggedly, 
“My heart…” he trailed off catching his breath. 
“What?” you muttered. 
“Feel it.” he continued, taking your hand and pressing it to his heart which you could feel thumping rapidly through the warmth of his skin. 
You laid your forehead against the top of his head, moving both of your hands to your own chest. 
“Me too.”
He tugged on your sweatshirt until you were seated securely on his knee, his hands grasping at your waist. 
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” he drawled before he began alternating pecks, and light nibbles down your neck until he reached the spot he could feel your pulse thrumming from. He lets his lips rest there for a while and reveled in the fact that you were just as affected as him. He pulled away when you spoke up.
“Where were you tonight?”
“Moped around Calum’s place until he kicked me out, told me I needed to deal with my shit.” he answered, the hand he was resting on your upper thigh caressing the skin through your pajama pants.
“I heard you outside my door earlier.” you admitted leaning into his side. 
“I came home with every intention of telling you but I chickened out.”
“What would you have told me?” you wondered aloud. 
“That I like you, and that last night was amazing. That I don’t want to sleep without you again if I don’t have to.” 
Luke took notice of the fact that your eyelids were drooping as he talked and began to scoot you both back in the bed as he continued.
He watched in awe as you curled into his side. 
“Up for a breakfast date tomorrow, love?” he asked, pulling the blanket over you both. 
“Yes, please.” you agreed, laying your palm flat against the warmth radiating from his stomach. 
“So what should we do with your room?” Luke said drowsily, sleep beginning to creep up on him as well.
“What do you mean?” 
“Well, you won’t be needing it anymore since you’re moving in here.” he comments casually, pushing your hair out of your face with soft movements.
You laugh lightly but it’s drowned by the yawn that slips out when you respond. 
“In your dreams, Hemmings.” 
“If I’m lucky.” he replied, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “Goodnight y/n.” 
“Night, Lu.” 
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seijorhi · 3 years
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Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you
Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕
Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader
TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)
Part I, II
You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.
It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…
You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.
But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.
There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.
And there’s nothing left of you without him.
They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.
You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.
You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.
(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)
They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.
Lucky.
The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.
And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.
Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.
God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.
But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?
There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.
Happy Birthday x
Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.
It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.
You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.
Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.
The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.
It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.
And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.
That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.
From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.
And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.
Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.
While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.
But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.
Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.
The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.
It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.
And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.
He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.
It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–
You can’t do it.
Not today.
And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.
Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.
Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.
Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.
Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.
Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.
It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.
Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.
Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.
He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.
He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.
And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.
“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.
Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.
It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.
“You wanna leave, baby bird?”
You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.
“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.
Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”
He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.
It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.
Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.
Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.
And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.
“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”
It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?
You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.
And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.
“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.
He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.
“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”
He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.
Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.
There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.
“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, “Call me Keigo.”
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The Intern (Loki Oneshot)
Summary: Loki takes an interest in the latest of a long line of Stark’s interns.
Pairing: Loki x Reader (Can be read as platonic, if preferred)
Word Count: 2,809
Disclaimers/Warnings: None. Just a bit of fluff.
A/N: This wound up turning into something entirely different from the original concept. Just kinda went with what felt right. Also trying desperately to remember working with an Arduino board to make this at least semi-accurate.
Masterlist
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Loki traipsed aimlessly through the Tower, his overly-friendly insomnia having kept him up past four in the morning again. Nothing seemed to help him sleep and he constantly grew bored laying around in his room waiting for exhaustion to overtake him. Wandering about seemed as good as anything. Sometimes he would come across something interesting. It seems now would be that time.
He rounded the corner and found himself gazing through the wall-length windows of Tony Stark’s lab. The armor-less Iron Man was passed out in a chair, head haphazardly lolling on a table. Usually, he was still working and would be until at least seven a.m. before Pepper would literally drag him to bed.
Movement at the other end of the room caught his eye. There you were, pulling a blanket out of the cupboard. You crossed the lab and placed the well-used cloth over Stark’s shoulders before returning to your work. Sliding your safety glasses on, you put all your focus into soldering some wires to a board.
What in the nine realms were you doing here at this hour? The sun hadn’t even reached the horizon yet. None of his previous interns ever started their days before nine. Albeit, they had barely lasted a week while you broke a record at just over a month, but the point still stood. Why were you here?
“Are you just going to stand there like a creeper, Loki, or are you going to come in and hang out?” you called out, not even bothering to tear your eyes away from the wiring.
Well, this excursion could prove to be interesting. Loki slithered through the doorway to stand opposite of you at your table.
“So what are you doing up this early?” you murmured. If it weren’t for you glancing up at him, someone may have thought it was more of a question for yourself.
Loki huffed a laugh. “I could ask you the same question.”
That elicited a quirky smile from you. “Woke up way before my alarm and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I’d start my day early.” You gestured toward Stark with the soldering iron. “This one over here is pretty lenient on the hours.”
“I would hope so,” Loki chuckled, “considering his own schedule.”
“A schedule that consists of planned energy drink breaks. Definitely one of the more interesting employers out there.”
“I suppose you could say that,” he mumbled, leaning heavily on his forearms propped on the table.
You set down the soldering iron in its stand and shut if off. “So I answered your question. How about you?”
“I simply could not sleep,” he nonchalantly replied.
“Hmm...” you hummed. “Lemme guess. A member of Insomniacs Anonymous?”
His chuckle reverberated through the room. This was probably one of the reasons Stark kept you around. You certainly had a particular snarky confident air about you.
Yet the corners of your mouth suddenly hung low and your brow scrunched together. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“Pardon?” He was confused at your change in demeanor.
“It’s not as simple as you couldn’t sleep. There’s more to it.”
Loki’s lips parted in astonishment. Here you were in your first true encounter with him and you read him like an open book. What had you been told?
“I won’t make you say anything.” You held your hands up in a placating manner. “You probably don’t want to, and that’s okay. However.” You grabbed the notepad next to you and scribbled something on it, ripping off the paper and sliding it towards him. “If you’re ever bored and I’m not here, you can text me. I’ll probably answer.”
He reluctantly took the note that had your number written on it. “I cannot say I am very adept with these cellular devices.”
“Pretty sure you’re clever enough to figure it out,” you grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “But seriously, no pressure. The offer is always out there.”
“Wha?!” Stark snorted himself awake, his eyes shooting around wildly. “Rudolf? What’re you doing here?” He eyed Loki suspiciously. “You’re not going to scare away my intern, are you? That’s my job.”
You laughed, keeping Loki from spitting a venomous retort. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to try a lot harder if that’s what you’re going for, Stark.”
“Obviously. You haven’t run off yet. I’m surprised.” He took the blanket that was wrapped around him and began folding it. “Pleasantly surprised.”
“Sure, sure!” You waved him off.
Stark looked at his watch and swiped a hand through his purposely messy bed head. “It’s that time already. I better get breakfast before Pepper finds me... Alright!” He clapped. “Both of you, let’s go! Time for grub!”
Loki’s eyebrows shot up across his forehead. Was Stark actually having him join the two of you for breakfast?
“Yes, you too, Reindeer Games! One, I don’t want you in the lab alone.” That earned him Loki’s scowl. “Two, you seem to be behaving, so why not have you eat with us.”
You nudged Stark’s arm while shooting Loki an inconspicuous wink. “Awww, look at you! Already getting into Dad Mode and little Morgan hasn’t even entered the world yet.”
He nudged you back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Now come on. I’m starving!”
You continued to tease him as you followed him out of the lab with Loki close behind.
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Loki lay in bed a few nights later, lost in thought. He could not get you out of his head. You had spoken with him like you would anyone else, deflected and stood up for him despite hardly knowing him. In the few years since he had been thrown to Midgard as punishment, Thor was the only one to show him a sliver of kindness, but even he held some hesitation. You did not. Your earlier interaction was genuine. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all.
In his perpetual deliberation, he had avoided the lab since that morning. Not that he didn’t like you. It was the uncertainty that kept him away, but that wouldn’t last much longer.
His phone settled lax in his hand, your name illuminating the screen. You had been right about him being able to learn how to text. Now it was a matter of completing the action. Tossing the phone to his other hand, he glared at the bright screen. His message had already been written. All he had to do was select “Send”. The clock at the top of the screen read two a.m. Surely, you would be asleep... But what if you weren’t?
With a huff, he pinched his eyes shut and hit the button, the swooshing sound seemingly echoing off the walls. The following silence was deafening. Luckily for him, the reply swoosh fell inline shortly after.
You: Hey, Loki. Can’t sleep?
Loki: How did you know who this was without me saying?
You: I can’t think of anyone else who would text me at this hour. ;)
Loki: I apologize if I woke you.
You: Nah. Already up. Trouble staying asleep. So what’re you up to?
Loki: Texting you.
You: Other than that, Mischief
Loki: Thinking.
You: Yeah? About what?
Loki: Possibly meandering through the Tower, again.
You: Liar ;)
Loki: Pardon?
You: You were obviously thinking about me.
Loki: What makes you say that?
You: You had to be. At least in the context that it would be better to text me than exploring.
Loki: Fair enough. Now, how do you know I am not planning to choose both?
You: You got me there.
Loki met you at the lab later that morning. The familiar sight of Stark was passed out, snuggling his face to a countertop, greeted you both.
Shaking your head, you huffed a laugh as you passed through the doorway. “Can’t really reprimand him when my sleep schedule is just as bad.”
Loki’s lips curled into a light smirk but didn’t speak a word lest Stark awaken and force him to leave. Despite your two hour texting session, he had been looking forward to joining you here.
“Thanks for meeting me here, by the way,” you called out to him as still stood just at the edge of the lab. “A little company while working is kind of nice. Gets too quiet when Stark finally shuts down.”
Taking a seat across from you, Loki quirks an eyebrow. “Would that not be considered a blessing?”
You stifled a chuckle as you flipped on the soldering iron and pulled out what roughly looked like a vambrace. The board you had been working on previously was molded to the shape. “If that happened by the end of my workday, yes. This early in the morning? Not so much. It’s boring if not a little eerie.”
“I see... So I am only here for your entertainment,” he feigned offense.
You gasped dramatically, “Me? Never!”
Laughing with you, Loki made himself a bit more comfortable as he watched you work. At the moment, you were adding tiny capacitors and securing them into place.
“If I may, what are you trying to accomplish?”
“Well,” you started, glancing up at him. “It’s a new piece of armor. Other than that, I technically shouldn’t say much else.”
“Right... Classified information?”
There was a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you looked at him again. “It is a secret, but nothing quite as official as that.”
Loki leaned across the tabletop, supporting his chin in his hand. “So there is no harm in you revealing your project,” he tested.
“Harm? No. However, there will be disappointment on my end if you figure it out.”
“I accept this challenge,” he grinned playfully.
You smirked back,“As you wish, Mischief. I won’t make this easy for you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Darling.”
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The next several weeks chaotically blurred together. At first, you allowed Loki to observe your project as you worked on it. Once the vambrace began to take on a more unique form, you were hiding it in the mornings, opting to take on a different assignment when he was in the room. The design was strikingly Asgardian, leading him to believe the new armor was for Thor. He just needed to figure out what it did. He spoke with his brother on multiple occasions but was unable to glean anything from him. Either he had no clue or suddenly learned to lie well enough to fool Loki, the latter highly doubtful.
Apart from politely harassing you via text, Loki took to locating your hiding spots, something that proved difficult when the lab was almost always occupied by you, Stark or Banner at varying times. Stark was helping you keep this little secret, a sparkle in his eyes whenever he shooed Loki from the room when he was caught investigating. Even Banner was in on it, albeit reluctantly.
Then there was that Doctor Strange who was showing up every few days, joining you all in the lab much to Loki’s chagrin. By that point, Stark had banned him from the entire floor. The project must have been coming to a close if you all were trying to cover it up so desperately. But why Strange? Was he imbuing the vambrace with magic to protect Thor better? (Not that he really needed it.) His curiosity was certainly getting the better of him, going so far as to shape-shift as one of you three when Strange wasn’t around to get into the room. Somehow, Friday always knew and alerted the lab’s occupants who would send him back to the elevator.
It was early one morning as he was perusing the contents of the shared kitchen that you initiated contact with him. He was surprised since he had been the one to text you first lately to see if you would spill your secret.
You: Hey. Can you stop by the lab?
Loki: Oh? I thought I was banned.
You: Lifted as of a few minutes ago. So?
Loki: I suppose I might be able to grace you with my presence.
You: So kind of you, my King ;)
His heart skipped a beat at you calling him “your King”. You only used it in a teasing fashion when he was acting high and mighty. Even then, it still flustered him.
Loki made his way to the elevator, deeming it a bit devious to take the long way to the lab. You had made him wait all this time. It was your turn.
The doors reopened on the lab floor, revealing that his ploy to annoy had worked. You were leaned against the wall next to the elevator, waiting for his arrival.
“Finally! Come on!”
You audaciously grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the room with an impatient grin. Stopping him near your normal workstation, you demanded he close his eyes.
“Excuse me?” he responded incredulously, ripping his arm from your grasp.
“Please, Loki...” Your pleading eyes grew larger as you pouted at him.
Stark groaned, “Just do it, Reindeer Games, or I’ll cover them for you.”
Loki’s lips reared into a snarl as he glared at the billionaire before relenting and clenching his eyelids shut. Norns, how he hated those nicknames.
“Okay!” Excitement laced your voice. “Would you hold up your dominant hand?”
“Making more demands, Darling?”
“I did ask nicely this time.”
“That you did,” he chuckled a complied, holding out a hand.
“Perfect!”
He felt a metallic weight placed on his forearm before it was clasped together with a comfortable tightness.
“Okay. You can look now!”
The sight of the vambrace on his arm left Loki’s mouth agape. The main black of the piece was lined with gold Asgardian knot designs with runes placed in a handful of the empty spaces. Near his wrist, an artificial emerald was embedded in the armor. If he had to be completely honest, the aesthetics could rival much of the armor back home.
“Well, Kid. It looks like you rendered him speechless.” Stark nudged your arm.
Loki’s gaze shot up to the two of you. Stark was leaning against the workstation while you had hoisted yourself to sit atop it, nothing but grins on either of your faces.
“What is this-”
You cut him off, “It’s for you. We noticed after some of your missions where you had to use your seiðr more than usual, you’d end up exhausted before getting back to the Quinjet. The new armor should help with that. It’s supposed to amplify your magic without draining you.”
Stark shoved you lightheartedly, again. “The kid noticed. Told ‘em if they could come up with something that could work, I’d give whatever resources needed for the project.”
“So what do you think? I mean we still need to undergo more testing and calibrations before you can use it in the field, but-”
“You made this?” Loki locked barely tearing eyes with you. “For me?”
“Yup! Kid designed the whole thing!” Stark kept you from answering. “Minus the bits we had to bring Strange in for the wizard-y things, this was a solo run. Did a pretty good job. Not sure I could have done much better.”
“Stark...” you grumbled, clearly not used to the praise.
“This is...” Loki tore his gaze away back to the vambrace. “I don’t... I don’t know what to say.” His voice was just loud enough for you to hear.
“A ‘thank you’ would be a good start. Now maybe this little intern will get more sleep,” Stark blundered before checking his watch. “Well, it’s about time for my morning scolding. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me!”
With that he whisked himself out of the room and to the elevator, leaving you and Loki in a terribly awkward silence.
“Hey...” you started. “If you don’t like it, we can scrap the design. It’s not a big deal-”
“Thank you.” His pupils were filled with a sincere gratefulness that few had ever seen before. “This is... This is simply splendid.”
“Really? You’re not just saying that?”
Loki spun on his heel to fully face you, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of you. “I mean it, Darling. This... No one has ever done something like this for me before. I would be honored to be your test subject,” he ended with a smirk.
“Well, if that’s the case,” you grinned right back at him, “I’d say let’s get some breakfast first. There will be plenty of time to optimize the vambrace later.”
Pulling back enough to release you from his cage of arms, he gestured for you to lead the way. “After you,” he breathed.
Hopping down from the table, you held out a hand for him. Hesitantly, Loki took it while running a thumb over your knuckles as you pulled him to the elevator with you.
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softboywriting · 3 years
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Meet The Parents | Billy Russo
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Summary: You introduce Billy to your parents and it doesn’t go as well as you hope. [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] [Problematic Parents/Divorced] [Parents Fighting] [Language] [Flirting] [Flashback/Nightmare]
 Word Count: 3.8k 
 A/N: This is a follow up to my first fic Little Moments but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.
---
The office is quiet, and has been for the whole day. Billy has been out at a client meeting since you got in. Anvil is becoming quite popular in the private military market, having taken on three new contracts in the last two weeks. You're proud of Billy, he works hard to win over his clients and offer top of the line service. As the primary contact for all contracts and placements, you've gotten busy too. More business means more expenses, and more employees to keep track of. You don't mind, it keeps you active and engaged. There is nothing more you hate than just sitting around staring at the wall or watching cat videos for the billionth time.
"Hey sweetheart."
You glance up from your work and see Billy closing the office door behind him. He's dressed up, black and grey patterned silk shirt, expensive black suit, the tailored jacket over his arm. He looks positively delicious if you do say so. Those shirts are the best thing you ever convinced him to wear.
"Hey yourself. How'd the meeting go?"
"Shitty." He sneers and tosses his jacket on his office chair. He begins unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up to his elbows. "The guy brought his daughter."
"Okay? What does she have to do with anything?"
Billy raises his eyebrows in an 'are you shitting me' expression. "His daughter is a model. Not naturally talented mind you, paid for by her daddy. Clearly he thought havin' her there would sway me into acceptin' the number he offered for the contract you wrote up. Like he's doing me a favor."
You stand and walk around the desk, eyes going up and down his chest. "You didn't do anything did you?"
"What kinda man do you think I am?" Billy walks you back against your desk, pinning you in with his hands on the top behind you. He drops his head to yours and stares at you with those dark endless eyes. "You think I'd fuck around?"
"I know you won't, you're too gone for me." You run your hands up his back and he arches against you. "Did she try?"
"She tried. Even sat on my lap."
"In front of her dad?"
"Mmmhmm." Billy drops his face to your neck and mouths at your skin. "I don't mind a little show and tell but even I got boundaries. Parental peepshows are off limits."
You laugh softly and he brings one hand against your lower back up to pull you against him. "Take it easy. You know the rules. No relationship stuff while I'm on the clock."
He groans, pulling his head back to look at you. "I need to touch you though. I don't want her lingering on me."
"I know." You step out of his hold and he lets his hand drag across your back as you escape his grasp. "Just another hour okay? I've gotta wrap a few things up."
Billy pulls his tie loose and unbuttons the top of his shirt. "Why did I ever make these rules?" He sinks down in his chair and spreads his legs, lolling his head against the back. He really is such a tempting little tease. How could you resist a man like that? Truth be told it's hard.
You take a seat behind your desk and focus your eyes on the invoices on screen. "You made them because you want Anvil to remain professional and not a playground."
"Bullshit."
"Your bullshit."
Billy bites his lip and gives you that look. The one that says he isn't to be messed with, that he's gonna get what he wants no matter what. And oh it's so tempting to get up and go sit on his lap in that chair. It's always been a fantasy of yours. One you haven't gotten to full fill due to his rules. He's really only cockblocking himself.
"C'mere."
"No, Billy."
"C'mon, be bad. Break my rules."
"No! You're such a jerk!" You laugh and he chuckles playfully. "We have dinner with my parents after this anyway. I'm not breaking your rules and getting all messy before we go see my parents. You hear? Parents."
"Always such a good girl."
"You like it."
"Damn right I do." He pushes up out of his chair and crosses the office to cradle your head and press a chaste kiss to your temple. "I'm gonna go home and get ready. Anything you want me to lay out for you? I think you've got a few things at the apartment."  
"The blue dress. I picked it up from the cleaners last week with a few suits. It should be in your closet."
"The one I bought you a while back for the client dinner?"
"Yeah."
"Isn't that a little revealing for a parents dinner?"
You raise your eyebrows and he narrows his eyes.
"You're a monster." He presses his lips to your ear. "If you keep teasing me I'll have to put you in your place."
"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment."
"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you're askin' for." Billy kisses your cheek and steps away. "Playin' with fire will get you burned."
You smile innocently. "See you later."
"You're terrible." He goes to the door and stops, looking back once more. "But I love you."
"Love you too Billy."
"Ugh," he groans, slapping a hand over his chest. "Say it again."
"Love you?" You giggle and he acts even more dramatic, pretending to swoon against the door. "What are you doing?"
"Being you."
"Wh- you son of a bitch! Get out!" You throw your squishy stress ball at him and he cackles as he runs from the office. What a child.
_____________________
"Oh, this is your boyfriend?" Your mother asks in actual surprise. As if you weren't meant to have a man that looks like Billy Russo. Truth be told you had never dated anyone half as attractive, not to you anyways. "He's so...well dressed."
Billy takes your mom's hand and kisses it politely. "We're all well dressed here ma'am. You look lovely too."
"Thank you." She flushes and giggles.
Billy gives a warm smile and tugs you closer. His hand on your back is radiating heat, its comforting. He knows you're tense. This dinner will be a strain on your nerves and he had been warned how difficult your parents can be.
"Your father should be here soon. I told him not to be late." Mom says huffily, eyeing the doors to the restaurant. You've met up with her outside and you're currently waiting for your dad to arrive. Your parents have been split for ten years and it's been hard, but not as hard as it would have been if they had divorced when you were still a young child. Well, you like to think that anyways. They waited, held on to their shit until you were graduated and old enough to understand that some people don't remain in love.
Billy leans in and presses his lips to your ear. "Are your parents going to fight? This place is very nice, I don't want to cause a scene."
"It'll be fine. They can hold it together for a few hours. I hope. Just don't mention their personal lives. It's a sore spot for mom. Dad isn't single anymore."
"Gotcha."
"Sorry I'm late." You turn and see your dad walking towards you. "Some asshole parked his Rolls Royce just on the line and I hardly squeezed into the only spot open beside it."
Mom scoffs and rolls her eyes. She bites her tongue but you know what she would say. Some comments about his truck being too damn big and a gas guzzler.
Dad puts his hand out for Billy. "You must be the lucky guy!"
Billy takes it and smiles a beautiful, toothy, shit eating grin. "Billy Russo, the asshole who parked his Rolls Royce a bit close to the line."
The way Dad's face turns pale and then red with embarrassment makes the whole evening worthwhile up until then. "That's yours?"
"One hundred percent. Bought and paid for."
"That's a beautiful piece of machinery. Expensive."
Billy leans his head on yours. "I only go for the best."
"Well you know I-"
"Oh shut up already, let's go inside." Mom says and grabs your dad's arm. "Always babbling on about shit when we've got things to do."
"Y'know what-" the conversation fades as your parents head into the restaurant. You're glad. It is bound to be petty anyways. Always was with them. Bickering children they should be called.
"Relax." Billy says in your ear, hand traveling up and down your side. "I can win over your parents for one night."
"You could charm anyone into anything and I've seen as much. You're a silver tongued sn-"
Billy catches your jaw in a light hold and presses a kiss to your lips. Your hand slides up into his hair and he grins into the kiss. "Easy now. We've not even gotten seated yet."
"Your fault."
"Usually is."
____________________
You stare at yourself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Dinner wasn't going so great and you had barely made it through an appetizer and drinks.
Your parents couldn't stop arguing, Billy was trying his best to charm them but apparently they're uncharmable, and you were left to play referee for your parents against each other or them against you and Billy.
It is a whole mess and you want to just leave, just walk out say fuck everything and go to Billy's apartment and go to bed. You haven't even had a chance to tease Billy like you were planning, hell, you've barely gotten a word in that wasn't defending him or fielding your parents insults they continuously hurdled over the table at one another.
The door rattles on your left and you clear your throat. "Occupied!" You shout and it stops.
It's a single use bathroom, not a multi-stall type set up. So the person outside would just have to wait until you were done having your crisis. Maybe not so fair to them but you'll be damned if you won't let yourself have a moment.
The handle turns and you back into the sink as the door opens. To your surprise it is Billy, not some worker with a key. "What the-"
"Your parents are insufferable. How the hell did you grow up with them? I mean I was in a group home and a few of the adults weren't great but holy shit they weren't my parents."
"I'm sorry."
Billy closes the door and shakes his head, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry for their actions. Never apologize for anyone but yourself."
"I knew this would happen. I just thought that maybe...I don't know...maybe they'd be different. Maybe they'd be proud of me, of you, so they would get along for two fucking hours."
"Sweetheart, you're nearly thirty, you're still seeking your parents approval?"
You laugh joylessly and bite the inside of your cheek. "You don't understand. You can't understand."
Billy brings your forehead to his lips and he rubs your back. He's always so affectionate with you, careful to hold and to love you like a man who never received it himself so he wants to make sure those he loves receives it tenfold.
"I understand seeking approval, but there is nothing you need approval for. You're an adult with a good job, a place to stay, an outstanding boyfriend with his own company. I'd say you're doin' alright honey."
You let out an actual little laugh, and he does too, bumping his nose against yours. "You're so full of yourself."
"You like that?" He bumps again, eyes on yours. "I said it to get you to giggle."
"You know it's a little true."
His lips meet yours in a warm tender kiss. "Confidence is sexy."
"It is."
"I could tell your parents there's a work emergency." He slides his hands over your ass and pulls you flush against him. "A real pain in the ass employee is causin' trouble."
You smile into his lips and he smiles back. "Oh yeah?"
"Mmhmm."
He chuckles softly and cradles your head to his chest. "You can't choose how your family acts. Remember that. It's up to you to decide how you act, and if you want to deal with them."
"I know."
"Do you?" He runs a hand over your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands briefly.. "I know it's different for you, I can distance myself easier since I didn't grow up with proper parents. Maybe I'm cold, or indifferent but-"
"Stop." You dig your fingers into his side and he falls quiet. "Don't compare your childhood to mine. It's not fair. I don't want you to begin resenting me because-"
Billy gives you a look that is all warning and it silences you instantly. "I would never resent you for having parents and growing up like a normal kid should. I ended up in a shit situation and that is no one's fault but my own mother's. She is the only person I will ever resent." He softens, leaning in and kissing your nose. "Do you wanna ditch or go try to make something of this dinner?"
You swallow harshly and look at the door. Ditching would be easy, but the repercussions would be insufferable. Your mom would never stop calling about it, your dad would hold it over your head forever. It would be more of a disaster to leave than it would be to stay. No matter how valid the reason.
"We'll stay. I can try and redirect the conversation."
"That's my girl." He pats your cheek. "Proud of you."
"T-thanks."
Billy takes your hand and interlocks your fingers with his. "I'll take care of it. I can get them to shut up."
"If you can get a word in."
"I have my ways. Don't worry."
You cut him a look as you exit the bathroom and head for the table. "What are you-"
"Don't worry." He presses against your ear and guides you down to sit at the table.
Your parents are still bickering.
"Hey!" Billy says firmly with his hands on the table, not a yell, but enough to get his point across and the attention of your parents but not many others.
"Yes?" Mom asks surprisingly quietly.
Billy smiles and it's all venom, beautiful venom. You know this look, these eyes, that deadly grin. He isn't fucking around and the way he can express that so physically subtly astounds you. "The arguing is going to stop. The petty comments are going to stop. We're going to sit here and have conversations like adults, or you can leave and your daughter and I will have a nice dinner."
"Wh-" Dad starts but doesn't get any further.
"I am not goin' to repeat myself." Billy stands up straight and raises his eyebrows, daring your parents to say another word. The tension is thick, you can hardly breathe. Never did you think you'd have to witness Billy being like this with your parents of all people.
You grab a roll from the basket at the center of the table and pick at it. "How's work been, Dad?"
Dad clears his throat. "Good, busy. People always need an electrician for something. I did a school the other day, new classroom."
Billy sits beside you and lays his hand on your leg, thumb stroking your skin gently. He leans in and whispers "I told you don't worry." He turns his attention back to your parents. "So you're an electrician? Contractor?"
"Yeah, I work for Mundun Electric. Union job, pays well."
"And you?" Billy looks to your mom.
"I'm a medical receptionist. Clarke Center Hospital."
Billy smiles. "That's incredible. You're both hardworking people it seems, I see where she gets her work ethic. She's incredible, the best I've hired for Anvil."
You chew your lip and look down, flushed. "You're just being nice."
"I'm serious." He holds your hand up and kisses your knuckles. "I admire your dedication and the hard work you've put into making Anvil a success. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. Probably buried in paperwork."
"So you work for Billy? That's how you met?" Mom asks and you nod.
Dad raises his eyebrows.
"Dad, don't start."
Billy cuts a glare at your dad. "Don't start what?"
"Nothing." Dad says nonchalantly, eyes going to somewhere else in the room. "I just think inter-workplace relationships are never a good idea."
You squeeze Billy's hand and he just smiles oh so sweetly. "Dad, it's fine. Billy and I are both professionals. If things don't work out we'll make it work for the sake of the company."
"He'll fire you and you'll be looking for a job yet again." Mom pipes up, rolling her eyes. "See, things like this are why you can't hold a career."
"Mom!"
"Alright." Billy says firmly. "We're done here. Ma'am, sir, with all due respect you can both go fuck yourselves."
"Excuse me!?" Dad bellows and your mom looks flustered at the use of language. "You have no right-!"
"Actually I do." Billy stands and guides you to stand with him. "I'm going to love and care about your daughter the way she should be. You two are self absorbed monsters who should have never had a child, let alone forced the one you had to live through a loveless marriage. The fact that you cannot manage to sit here and have dinner with her and myself, which mind you has left quite a first impression, is sad and disappointing."
You grab his hand and you're shaking. You don't even know what to say. It's like Billy is telling them everything you've wanted to for your whole life.
"C'mon sweetheart." He puts his arm around you and guides you out of the restaurant. You know there are people staring but it's fine. It's over now.
"I'm s-"
"Uh uh." Billy puts his finger to your lips. "No apologies. Here." He shrugs his suit jacket off and puts it around your shoulders.
"Thanks."
"You wanna get out of here before your parents come out. Go get some burgers or something?"
You can't help the little smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Pete's Diner?"
"Anywhere you like." He takes your hand and walks you toward the parking area. "Fuck this fancy bullshit anyway. I never understood the food they serve."
"Me neither. A hamburger and fries with a big ole pickle is good enough for me."
Billy opens the passenger door for you. "You're a girl after my heart y'know that?"
"I think I already have it."
He leans in and kisses your forehead. "That's for damn sure."
_____________________
Midnight you wake up crying. A nightmare, a reoccurring one as it would be. Though it is more of a twisted memory than a nightmare in actuality.
You are always around seven or eight years old, it's nighttime, you've been in bed for an hour and still not asleep. Downstairs your parents are awake, their disembodied voices float through the old floors. Their voices grow louder, shouting, screaming at each other. A glass shatters and you crawl under the bed. Footsteps come closer in the hall, heavy and slow.
The dream shifts. You're not a child but an adult. Under the bed is smaller now, the footsteps grow louder. The door opens and you scream when your foot is grabbed and you wake up crying.
"What's wrong?" Billy asks, sitting up in bed abruptly and turning on the light, hand instinctively going for the nightstand where you know a weapon is stored.
You had stayed the night, both of you decided it was best to stay together while you decompress from your tragic meet the parents dinner. Didn't matter in the end though. The nightmare still came.
"Just a bad dream. I'm going to get some water." You push back the blankets and plant your feet on the cold floor. It's a nice shock to the system, reminding you this is reality.
Billy's arm snakes around your waist. "Care to share with the class?"
"It's nothing. Just a nonsense dream about old crap."
"Your parents?"
"Yeah. Um, just a dream." You yawn and pat his hand on top of your stomach. "I need water."
"Grab me a bottle?"
"Sure."
You end up in the kitchen, looking out at the New York skyline. His place is so beautiful. It's luxurious, and you can't get used to it. You lean on the island and sip a bottle of cold water from the fridge. You don't think you belong here.
Then the dream comes creeping back in. Rationally you know that dream is never going to become a reality. Not with Billy around.
"Hey."
You look back to see Billy walking in with his sleep pants low on his hips. He scrubs a hand over his face before meeting you at the island.
"Sorry, I just got caught up in the view."
"It s'okay." His arms wrap around you and he presses his face to your neck. "I love you." He whispers softly into your skin.
"Are you alright?"
"Mmm."
You thread a hand into his hair and scratch at his scalp. It elicits a hum that's nearly a purr against your back. "Do you ever feel like you don't deserve this? Like everyday you can't comprehend that you're loved."
"I didn't think I could fall in love before I met you, yeah. I'm familiar."
"Oh."
"Wasn't expecting that?" He chuckles, flexing his fingers against your tummy.
You shake your head and he kisses along your jaw. "Billy, stop," you giggle as his short beard tickles your skin.
"No way." He starts walking you back away from the island counter and toward the bedroom. "I've got a disease and if I don't kiss you all the time I'll definitely succumb to it."
The two of you tumble onto the bed and he straddles your hips, mouthing at your neck and chest relentlessly.
"It's three in the morning. We need to go back to sleep."
Billy hums and settles on top of you, nose in your hair. "Sleep is for the weak."
"Then I'm weak." You trail a hand up his back, fingers flitting over his shoulder blade. His skin is so soft, so warm. "Thank you by the way."
"For what?"
"Being here when I had a nightmare."
"Of course." Billy pets your hair, stroking it down against the pillow. "I've suffered my share of them alone. I'm glad you were here so you weren't."
"Me too."
"Go to sleep." He kisses your cheek and rolls off to the side. His arm curls around you and pulls you close. "Love you."
"Love you too."
_____________________
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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years
Note
A hero is in a coma. Villain visits them every single day, loosing sleep, not eating, their life is now completely focused around the empty hospital room.
Until hero wakes up and notices how sick villain has become due to anxiety and not taking care of themselves. Caretaking?
This is such a cute ask!! There’s only a little caretaking, but as always I’d be happy to write some more ^^
To all non-Americans out there, I am so sorry for using our weird 12 hour clock in this piece
CW//Comas, medical settings, just some horrible self care, mentions of explosions, bad hygiene, sleep deprivation, low self esteem, blaming self, strong language
“How are they doing?”
The voice alone was enough to make Doctor jump, spinning on their heels with such quickness that their shoes squealed on the tiled hospital floor.
Oh. It was just Villain.
Just Villain. It was a ridiculous thought to have, and they were well aware of that fact. Only a few short weeks ago, the name would have been enough to make any well-minded civilian tremble. It was bad enough, to hear it spoken on the news. Worse, to hear it not coming from a television-- in some cases, that name was all the warning one was given, before a terrible fate befell them. A nameless causality in the never-ending battle of good and evil.
But, now, there was no terror associated with it.
Most hospitals, Doctor was well aware, were fortunate enough that villains did not often pass through their doors. When they did, in the best cases, it was to seek treatment. In the worst cases, they had far more destructive intentions.
Their hospital, however, was an exception. There is a saying, that one can get used to anything, and with their experience, they now believed it to be more than true.
Doctor sighed, letting their shoulders fall.
“Visiting hours are over, Villain. You need to go home.”
The villain’s eyes widened, flickering momentarily to the nearest clock. In fact, it was past the end of visiting hours. Well past. Night rounds were about to begin, even.
It was simply so easy to forget Villain, hunched over in their little plastic chair.
Especially with those big, pathetic eyes with which they regarded Doctor.
“I can’t leave.” They pleaded. “Not yet. Can’t I stay just another hour?”
“No, Villain. We’ve been over this. You can come back tomorrow, bright and early, right at seven.”
“But it’s eleven, now! That’s eight hours. Eight hours they’ll be alone.”
“Not alone.” Doctor bit their lower lip. They knew full well that the person before them could render them to a charred corpse in mere seconds, if they so wished. Their tense, skipping heartbeat wouldn’t let them forget it. But, there was no malice in their eyes. Not an ounce. Only that terrible, pitiful sorrow. The sorrow that never seemed to leave them. “There’s people here, all night. A whole medical staff. If anything happens, they won’t be alone. I promise.”
Villain’s lip quivered. Weren’t they supposed to be dangerous?
“You’re sure I can’t stay? Just another hour?”
“I’m sure.”
“O-Okay.” The villain reached into their shoulder bag, and, for a moment, Doctor nearly pressed the nearest panic alarm. Yet, they withdrew no weapon. Instead, Villain took a small, spiral-bound notebook in hand, offering it. “Here are my notes. Um, just so you know. What they did today.”
Doctor’s gaze downcast to the paper. They already had three of these, piled on their desk. Filled to the brim. This one had only recently been started.
The page the notebook was turned to displayed the same thing as all the rest: Impeccably neat handwriting, dividing the page into half hour blocks. In each, letters of equal quality described the patient’s condition, down to the most minute detail.
3:30 - Minor twitching of the eyelids accompanied by singular irregular heartbeat.
4:00 - No abnormalities.
4:30 - Twitching of left index finger.
5:00 - Abnormal breath at around 5:12.
It was the best-kept record of a comatose patient’s condition that Doctor had ever seen. Even if it wasn’t exactly helpful, with how repetitive the patient’s movements tended to be, it was downright impressive.
“Thank you, Villain. I’ll tell the receptionist to expect you at seven?”
“Is there any chance I could come in earlier than that?”
“No. I’m sorry. Visiting hours start at seven.”
“I’m quiet. You know I’m quiet. I won’t be a bother to anybody.”
“I know, Villain. If...” They knew they needed to say something, or this argument would continue all night long. “If anything happens, we have your number on file. I’ll call you myself.”
“Really?” Their eyes widened. “You promise?”
“I promise. Now, you need to go home.”
“Okay.”
“You won’t hide in the bathroom and try to stay late this time?”
“You saw?”
“Everyone saw, Villain. Now, you’ve gotta skedaddle.”
The villain nodded hesitantly, looking to their shoes as they turned, moving down the hallway. As they left, Doctor could not help but mutter in their wake:
“And get some rest.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 
Six weeks.
Those two words echoed hollowly in Villain’s mind as they plodded along the damp sidewalk, lit only by the dewy echoes of streetlights overhead. The hour was late enough, and the city tired enough, that the streets were nearly deserted-- a state they were in so very rarely.
Their henchmen had spoken to them so many times, lecturing them that moving through the city’s depths, alone and unprotected, was terribly dangerous. Any hero, or any vigilante too cocky for their own good, could try their luck in an ambush.
But, Villain could hardly bring themself to care.
Six weeks.
That was all they cared about.
Six weeks since Hero had moved. Six weeks since they’d spoken, since they’d awoken. Exactly six, now.
Exactly six weeks since...
Villain’s hands clenched to fists at their sides, overgrown nails digging into the meat of their palms.
Since they’d made the biggest mistake of their life. Since the two sworn nemeses, Hero and Villain, light and dark, good and evil, had had their final battle. An industrial sabotage gone wrong.
They should have known better! Better than to use their pyrokenisis in an oil refinery.
But, that hadn’t. They hadn’t been thinking. They never thought! They were so stupid, so reckless, so careless...
Villain’s ears still rung from the explosion.
Their injuries meant nothing, even as they still throbbed. No. Because, for the last six weeks, they had been awake. Moving. Talking.
Hero hadn’t been so lucky.
When they at last arrived at their HQ, the halls were silent. Life existed only in the form of a scattering of guards, nodding their respects, but making no other gestures.
It was with weary legs that Villain ascended to their bedroom. They hardly noticed its state-- they’d grown used to the scatterings of clothes and papers. Instead, upon opening the door, their eyes snapped to the bed.
More specifically, the item upon it. They rushed to it, yanking it off the mussed blankets.
A book. A note, upon its cover.
“Went to bed before I could give this to you. It’s that book you wanted - Henchman”
Villain removed the note, far more interested in the cover it hid.
A Neurologist’s Guide to Chronic Vegetative States
There were more than enough pages within to last them until sunrise; until visiting hours at last recommenced.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 
At 5:40, the sun began its ascent, bathing the sky in a dull hue of blue.
When six o’ clock came, the first rays of light could be seen, flashing over the horizon.
With the strike of 6:10, Villain placed down their book. They were only around halfway through-- wandering eyes and brief minutes of dozing lowering the speed at which their foggy mind could process the medical textbook.
They would have more than enough time to read, the next night. The book didn’t matter. What mattered was that visiting hours would commence in 50 minutes, exactly.
Twenty minutes to walk to the hospital. Meaning that, to get there early, they needed to leave in fifteen.
Rubbing sleep from their eyes, Villain rose from their chair, knees popping and cracking all the way to the bedroom door. Quickly, they changed into the cleanest clothes they could find, if only for the sake of appearances, before heading out.
Showering could wait. Showers took time, time that could be spend watching. Reading. Taking notes.
Helping. Doing anything, anything they could to help.
Emerging into the hallway, they startled a moment. The lights had already been turned on, despite the fact that their henchmen never awoke this early. Perhaps they had simply forgotten to turn them off the night prior.
Yet, there were noises, from downstairs.
There was no fear left in their body to feel. Justifications were quickly made, and they ran down the stairs.
Entering the kitchen, a scent hit Villain, forceful as a gust of wind. The scent of food-- warm and fresh and garnished with garlic.
Before the stove, Henchman stood. Out of all those Villain employed, Henchman was the least likely to be awake at such an hour. Often, they dragged themself from bed well after ten.
Yet, here they stood, flipping a pancake in a skillet.
“Hey, boss.” Their henchman turned, a grin glimmering upon their face. “I’m almost done here. Get yourself something to drink.”
Villain blinked.
“What... are you doing?”
“Making breakfast? I thought that’d be pretty obvious.”
“Yeah, I can see that. But... Why? You never eat breakfast.”
“Yeah. It’s not for me. ‘s for you, boss.”
They shook their head, glancing at the clock. 6:17.
“I’m not hungry. Besides, I really need to get going.”
“Boss.” There was an endeared, yet frustrated, tone to the voice. “When was the last time you ate?”
“You made me eat a granola bar yesterday.”
“And the day before that, you didn’t eat anything. So, you’re eating breakfast, if I have to shove it down your throat.”
They clenched their hands to fists.
“I don’t have time for this! Visiting hours are going to start soon. I need to be there.”
“No. You need to eat. Then you can go to the hospital.”
“You don’t get to decide that. I need to go. I’m sorry.”
“Boss.” Henchman slid the pancake onto a plate before deftly stepping between their boss and the front door. “I don’t mean to be blunt, but you look like hell. I know you haven’t been sleeping. Everyone knows it. If you keep acting like this, you’re going to be the one in a hospital bed.”
Villain gritted their teeth.
“Maybe that’s what I deserve. Now, fuck off. Get someone else to eat your damn pancakes.”
With those words, and furious footsteps, they emerged onto the sidewalk outside.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
When Receptionist arrived at their desk, there was already a patron, sitting in their waiting room.
A few short weeks ago, such would have been unusual. While other parts of the hospital were occupied day and night, the appointments handled by this room did not begin until the hospital actually opened-- right at seven.
Now, though, there was nothing strange about it.
Before they could so much as sit down, Villain was already moving towards them.
Receptionist could not help but note their appearance.
Working in a hospital, they had long since grown used to seeing the sick and injured. And yet, there was something particularly distressing about this case.
They supposed, it was because they had seen it happen. Usually, when patients arrived at the hospital, it was because they could no longer manage their own conditions. Their bodies were in shambles. They showed up in their damaged states.
Villain, on the other hand, had first appeared to the waiting room is relatively good health.
Then, they had begun to appear tired.
And thin.
Now, their appearance matched that of the comatose patient that they were here to see. Skin clung taught about their cheekbones, their flesh pale and eyes glazed over. Most semblances of hygiene had been abandoned entirely; some parts of their hair had even begun to mat, and dirt clung to them like caked and cracked makeup.
But, there was something else in their eyes. The sheer essence of undying compassion.
It was that alone that prevented Receptionist from sending them away.
Villain had no need to speak. As soon as they had time to sit, the hospital employee had paged the proper floor-- a sequence of buttons that had quickly become muscle memory.
“You can go up, now.” They spoke. With a wearied nod, Villain moved to begin their ceaseless watch.
Neither of them could have guessed that, an hour later, the unthinkable would come true.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
When Hero awoke, it was to the sound of a pencil, scratching at paper.
The world filled in with a terrible, exhaustion tedium. Above them, blurs of white and grey turned to a sterile, white tile, while the world about solidified to four pale, beige walls.
A hospital. They’d been in enough to recognize as such, with just how clumsy their teammates tended to be.
But why were they here, now...? Who had gotten hurt, this time? They couldn’t quite remember.
Rolling onto their side, the question was quickly answered.
Villain appeared to be on death’s doorstep, about to press the doorbell. Matted hair clung to their neck, eyes drooping and skin appearing as though there was no blood beneath it at all.
At the very least, they had made it to the hospital before suffering any serious damage.
Wait.
It was only then that Hero realized who exactly was in the room’s hospital bed.
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angryschnauzer · 4 years
Text
Stuck
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Summary: You are August Walkers maid, and when you are changing the sheets on his massive bed your hand gets stuck between the mattress and headboard. Upon finding you in that predicament August takes control of the situation, however it doesn’t mean you get unstuck any time soon. (Based on a pornhub video i saw at 2am a few nights ago)
Pairing: August Walker x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Mission Impossible: Fallout.
Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Dub-con, Fingering, groping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, boob play, anal fingering, double penetration, spanking, spying/stalker behaviour, surveilence, voyerism, unauthorized recording of a sex act, not-great aftercare (he tries), slight dom/sub, the start of a ‘sugar daddy’ arrangement, however no reference to Daddy kink. 
I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE
Read the Steve Rogers version of this story HERE
Stuck
 Ringing the doorbell, you stood anxiously on the doormat outside the expensive apartment, listening for approaching steps but hearing none. So when the door suddenly opened you let out a tiny yelp of surprise, before taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart;
 “Good afternoon Mr Walker”
 The giant of a man stood in front of you, recognition quickly passing over his face when he saw your uniform of black dress and simple black ballet flats;
 “Oh yes, the maid. C’mon in”
 You worked for a high security housekeeping company, strict controls and stringent background checks as you were contracted to the pentagon and the agents and staff that worked there. You always worked on an ad-hoc basis, only visiting homes when clients or agents requested it. This was however the fourth time cleaning Mr Walker’s apartment, always having to work around suitcases littering the halls and various weapons being cleaned and serviced on the kitchen table. 
 Holding your pail of cleaning supplies you waited as he shut the door, talking at you rather than to you;
 “Okay so here’s what you need to do today; clean the bathroom and kitchen, vacuum the rugs throughout, change the bedding and leave in the laundry hamper”
 You nodded;
 “Sweeping throughout too sir?”
 “No need, the Roomba does the smooth floors, it just can’t get onto the deep pile rugs” he hooked an earbud into one ear; “I’m going out for a run, I’ll be two hours”
 Swallowing nervously you nodded, watching as he hooked the other earbud in and left without another word, leaving you staring at the white wood of the door after he’d closed it. 
 Mr Walker both scared and excited you. A beast of a man, he was all muscle, and each time you had visited he had excused himself so not to be there whilst you were. The fact that he was always in a tank top and running shorts that did nothing to hide any part of him had you stretching your concentration to its limits in order to get your job done and not drift off into a fantasy land that you saved for when you were curled up in your own bed.
 Getting to work you started on the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher with the various dirty crockery that littered the room, cleaning the surfaces, sink, stove. Next up you hit the rugs, working quickly as you vacuumed, before heading to the bathroom. 
 Taking a deep breath you opened the door and relaxed. Cleaning bathrooms for single men were what you always dreaded, but at least as you started to cleanse every surface including the toilet, you realised that Mr Walker thankfully had good aim. Finally it was time for the shower, and as you pulled open the glass door and looked down you let out a shriek; the largest spider you’d ever seen sat in the corner. Grabbing the handled loofah you crept a little closer, letting out a laugh when you saw it wasn’t in fact an arachnid; instead it was a clump of dark hair;
 “Well, the man does have a lot of hair” you muttered to no-one but yourself, thinking about how his chest was covered in a mat of soft hair, exposed in the low neck of his running tank. 
 Half an hour later you wiped your brow on the back of your arm. Mr Walkers bathroom had in fact been a nightmare, the man shed more hair than a fucking German Shepherd. Washing your hands and glancing at your watch, you saw that you had fifteen minutes left of the two hours, taking a deep breath before grabbing the clean linens from the closet.
 Mr Walkers bedroom was white. There was no personalisation, no trinkets. Slipping your ballet flats off you climbed onto the bed, mentally taking in the sheer size of it; it must be a super king if not larger. Your mind immediately went south, imagining Mr Walker fucking on the bed, sprawled out as you straddle his face - you had always wondered what that moustache felt like against your skin - and you ride his tongue, or him pile driving you into the mattress, his hard body pressing against every inch of you as he fills you.
 Moving up the bed you tugged on the sheet, cursing as it wouldn’t pull out from between the mattress and headboard. With a huff you shuffled forward, pushing your hands down between them, tugging on the expensive white cotton. Pushing your arm down a little further you could just about feel that it was caught on something, moving to pull back and then it happened… you were stuck.
 “What the...?” you muttered, realisation hitting you that your watch had slipped into the gap and was now preventing you from pulling your arm out. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you struggled to set yourself free, pulling against the strain but it did little to help.  You pushed and pulled and grunted, hiking your dress up so you could widen your stance on the bed, but nothing worked. You frantically looked around to see the time, yet there wasn’t a clock or display in sight, and you could hardly look at your watch. If you didn’t get out of there soon Mr Walker…
 “Well isn’t this a pretty sight…”
 No. Please no. Oh god no. You screwed your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment rising to your skin;
 “I’m stuck” you whispered, letting out a yelp when you felt the bed dip behind you, feeling his hands gently resting on your hips;
 “Unfortunate for you, maybe not so for me...”
 -
 Five minutes ago.
 August sat in the small room, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. As ideas went, this was both his best and worst idea yet. Installing hidden security cameras in his apartment had been at first simply for security whilst he was away on missions, but he’d found a secondary use for it once the agency had recommended your employers as a maid service. He hadn’t been expecting someone as pretty as you, you had this look of innocence about you that made him just want to corrupt you and ruin you. He may be a bastard but he wasn’t a heathen, so instead of just turning on the charm offensive he had found an abandoned room in his apartment building and set up a small surveillance center. One with a chair, a laptop, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues. 
 August Walker had just spent the last two hours edging himself as he watched you bend over in that knee length dress, adjusting camera angles to see up your skirt as you bent over. August Walker was one step away from full on pervert. And he had no regrets at all.
 That was until he saw you on his bed, and realised you were trapped. Temptation got the better of him, so stuffing his hard dick back into his running shorts, he quickly left the room and silently made his way back to his apartment. 
 He entered and could smell the pleasant scent of the cleaning fluids you’d used, the quiet grunts as you tried to free yourself from your predicament. Toeing off his sneakers he silently made his way through the hallways, suppressing a groan as he saw you on his bed; ass up face down, the fabric of your dress stretched over the tops of your thighs, the fabric moving as you moved to expose glimpses of your buttocks. He pressed a hand over the obscene bulge in his shorts before moving to the bed.
 -
 “Mr Walker!” you squeaked out in surprise; “You’re back… umm I’m stuck, my watch… I can’t get my wrist back through the gap between the headboard and the mattress”
 “Oh… what a shame. Let me help…”
 You were expecting him to move around you, but instead he covered your body with his own and grasped your arms. Your mind was lost as you took in how his massive hands could completely circle your wrists, the weight of him above you almost suffocating, and when he started to tug you knew you were done for. 
 The gentle rocking of your bodies, rubbing against one another was all it took for a moan to leave your mouth involuntarily, the feeling of his hard dick rutting against the crease of your ass making you embarrassingly wet almost instantly. He grunted above you;
 “Huh, well that didn’t work…”
 Pushing himself up he knelt behind you, still pressing his hard-on against your ass as his hands gripped your hips and he tugged gently, however all he did was pull you back against his crotch;
 “This fabric is slippery, hang on a second…”
 Pressing your head to the bed you felt him flip your skirt up, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind you as he took in the bright red thong you were wearing beneath your dress. His warm hands smoothed over your buttocks before gripping onto your hips and half-heartedly tugging again. 
 It was no good, you were too turned on to even object. You’d lusted after your client for weeks, and now you found yourself in this predicament which it was obvious he had no intention of helping you with, but instead had other ideas that you had no desire to object to. You were rocking back against his dick, the quiet moans escaping your throat telling him you were more than into it, so when you felt his fingers curl around the elastic of your underwear and tug them down to your mid-thigh, all you could do was arch your back and present your pussy for his inspection. 
 Thick fingers parted your folds, teasing your nectar to your aching clit where a thumb rubbed hard circles against the sensitive bud. His other hand was lost from you for a moment and you could feel him moving, before you felt the thwack of his heavy dick against your ass. 
 With your hand trapped and your body stretched out you could barely look over your shoulder, but when you did you could see the impressive bulk of your clients body towering over you, the sight making your cunt clench with anticipation.
 “Excited, are we?”
 “Please Mr Walker…”
 “Please what?” You moaned and his quiet chuckle filled the room; “You gotta say it”
 “Please fuck me”
 “Eager little thing, aren’t we?”
 “Please…”
 “Well, as you asked so nicely…”
 He took hold of his dick and dragged the bulbous tip through your folds, dousing himself with your juices before lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt him push just the tip inside you it felt like you were being split open, he must be as thick as your wrist, and as he continued to force his way into your body it felt like he was the length of your forearm.
 “Such a good little slut, taking my dick…” his voice filled your senses as your body fought to relax and allow him deeper, your juices running down your legs where he would rock back and forth to lubricate his girth before pushing another punishing inch in to you. 
 Your velvet walls parted yet gripped him tight, and you could feel every ridge, bump and vein as he started to fuck your tight pussy. With every pull and push your head swam, your body moving back to meet his thrusts as his massive hands gripped onto your hips and he started to slam into you harder and harder. When his hand came down onto your ass the loud smack surprised you just as much as the pain, but you arched your back even more like a bitch in heat. 
 He reached beneath you, tugging at the neckline of your dress with both hands, before the seam of the collar broke and the soft jersey stretched enough for him to tug the fabric down. His fingers caught in the lace cups of your bra, and whilst still plunging deep into you from behind, he was able to let your titties swing free and he grabbed a handful;
 “Such pretty tits. Next time you clean I want you in just your underwear so I can watch them swing. Might get you scrubbing the floors so I can see you bent over and ready for me”
 You shuddered at his words, he already paid a premium for your services, and the electronic tip that he’d sent through had been more than generous, the last visit alone you had been surprised by the triple figures, but more than grateful that you were able to pay the bills.
 His hands had found their way back to your ass, smoothing over the soft skin as he continued to fuck you, the wide ridge that ran along the underside of his length rubbing so beautifully against your g-spot, you were sure you were going to cum soon. 
 He pulled your cheeks apart and you felt him spit on your asshole, the warm liquid pooling for a moment before his thumb started to rub insistently over the brown rose. Burying your head in the soft sheets you allowed your body to relax as he breached your back door with his thumb, the wide digit stretching you as he pushed in as far as he could;
 “This ass is incredible. I can’t wait to fuck it”
 You let out a tiny yelp at the idea of trying to fit his massive cock in your ass;
 “Mr Walker!”
 “Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you’re stretched out first. Might want to add a plug to the uniform list for next time, make sure you’re ready lubed and stretched for me. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, this time I’m just going to cum deep in this sweet pussy of yours. Are you on birth control? Are you ripe?”
 You hadn’t even considered birth control. Your insurance had stopped covering you a couple of years back, so when you had gone on the occasional date that had ended up between the sheets, you’d simply resorted to condoms;
 “No… no…”
 “Oh yes. I’m going to cum deep inside you, let my seed rest within your womb. God, I’d love to see your belly round with my child, I bet your tits would be even more impressive. Hmmn yes, that’s fucking perfect…”
 You hadn’t thought it possible, but all that he said was turning you on even more, and it wasn’t just you that liked the idea, you could feel him swell within you, his girth growing thicker as his arousal grew. The added stretch was driving you closer and closer to your own orgasm, the dual stimulations of your pussy and ass both being filled had you trembling with need.
 “Are you going to cum for me?” his voice was hoarse and dry, an edge of desperation to it too; “I’m close, gonna shoot my load in you soon. You’d better cum before I do ‘cos once I’m done I’m pulling out and will leave you dripping with my seed and on edge…”
 The threat of being left on the precipice was enough to push your body over the edge, cumming hard as your body held him so tight he thought he wouldn’t be able to pull out. The vice like grip had him throwing his head back as your body milked him, his own orgasm ripping through his body that he came with a roar and a string of expletives. 
 -
 August wasn’t sure if he had ever cum that hard before, but the way your body gripped him so tight he was in no doubt that your pussy was the best he’d ever had - and he’d had a lot - and he knew without a doubt that he was not going to let anyone else ever come near it again.
 As he slowed his thrusts and let you work through the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, he mentally checked off all the things he’d been checking up on; from the details of your financials, your family and education, your social media. He had seen all of them. He had your phone tapped and knew that he was going to be installing spy cameras in your apartment… that was until you agreed to be his. 
 Looking down at your ass he pulled his thumb out of your now loosened asshole, making sure to catch the way it winked as he recorded on his phone, having pulled that out of his pocket soon after he’d started and had recorded himself defiling your body. Giving your ass a smack he relished how the camera picked up the jiggle as the force rippled through you, before grasping a large handful of ass as he pulled out and watched his cum pool at your entrance, before pushing it back in with two thick fingers. Tugging your underwear up your legs from where they had settled around your knees, he made sure the flimsy red mesh covered your hole, quickly getting soaked with his seed as he pushed the fabric against the mess to fully coat it. 
 Finally he shut his phone off and reached towards the headboard, giving it a tug and feeling it lift, watching as you silently pulled your hand free before collapsing on the bed. He carefully unbuckled your wristwatch before rubbing at the sore skin, easing away the chafed skin. He set your hand down carefully and quickly left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water and holding it to your lips as he helped you sit up. 
 Setting the empty glass on the side, he rubbed your back before attempting to fix your torn collar, finally giving up. He swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the mascara tear stains;
 “Next week you’ll need to be in your underwear and heels. Make sure the plug is well lubricated. I’ll have everything delivered to your address”
 You went to object, to question how he would even know, but then realised… CIA… of course he knew. You pushed yourself to the edge of the bed, finding your shoes and slipping your feet in, standing on wobbly legs as he spoke again.
 “Do as I ask and I’ll let you stay the night so I can fuck your other two holes as well”
 Turning you nodded;
 “Yes Mr Walker”
 “Oh, you can call me Sir now” he turned to leave the room before waving his finger at the pile of fresh linen still folded at the end of the bed; “Remember to finish up before you leave”
 He left the room without another word. You went to object, but just as you did you felt the phone in your pocket vibrate. Quickly checking it your eyebrows practically shot off the top of your head, seeing the tip transfer come through for $2000. Biting your lip, your thumb hovered over the accept/decline buttons, the moral dilemma tearing your mind in two.
 -
 In the hallway August watched his phone. He could see that you’d received the notification of the tip. When he saw your action on the app he smiled and slid the phone back into his pocket, already planning your next visit.
Part 2 >>>
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godlyaffection · 3 years
Text
Love; A Wonderful Feeling
Pairing: Tanaka and Kiyoko x Male Reader
Warnings: None
Summary: It’s date night with Tanaka and Kiyoko. Nothing is better in Y/n’s mind than being with the two people he cares about most, so no matter what happens he will enjoy his night.
A/n: This is self indulgent, I just love them both so much. And I said I wanted to write a poly fic.
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Tanaka and Kiyoko. There were so many words to describe them, so many things Y/n could say about them, but he thought he should probably just stick with loving. That’s something he knew now, it was a bit hard to figure out in the beginning, but now there was no doubting it. They loved him, and it was a wonderful thing to be loved.
A small smile graced the third years face as he watched the clock tick by. He wasn’t really paying attention to the clock, or anything else that was happening for that matter. All he cared about was getting out of this classroom so he could meet up with his boyfriend. The two third years had plans to have a date night with their lovely girlfriend that evening. The plan was for them to make dinner and watch movies together, how many movies depended on how horribly making dinner went. Of course with Shimizu there it couldn’t be to bad of a disaster.
The sound of a school bell drew Y/n out of his daydream. Excitedly he stuffed together his things, hardly caring if any of his belongings were in order before shoving them into his bag. A smile grew on his face as his mind wandered back to meeting with his boyfriend and girlfriend. It was thrilling to be this close to spending time with two people he cared about deeply.
With all the speed he could get away with, while he was still inside the school, Y/n raced to the exit. He got there quickly, before Tanaka did, but he didn’t mind. Actually he preferred to wait for his partner, not that Tanaka gave him much of a choice, Ryu was normally late. Y/n bounced on the balls of his feet as he looked around for his boyfriend. Eventually Tanaka made himself known, and an even larger grin found its way onto Y/n’s face.
“Ryu!”
The other third year smirked at the sound of his name being called. It was clear to see that Tanaka was just as excited to see his boyfriend as Y/n was.
Y/n quickly kissed Tanaka. It was a short kiss, that was cut even shorter because of the grin Y/n had on his face. The two started walking to Tanakas home together.
“I missed you, you know.” Y/n said with a pout, that was only for show of course, on his lips.
Ryuunosuke snorted at the statement, “You saw me yesterday, and we talked just this morning.”
Y/n’s frown deepened, and shook his head. Choosing not to respond. It was clearly to long for him. Tanaka laughed at the response. He grabbed Y/n’s hand and gave it a squeeze. This pulled a smirk out of Y/n. He was back to being happy after that, and the short walk to Tanaka’s home soon came to an end.
When they entered his house they were greeted by the sight of their purple haired girlfriend sitting on the couch looking at her phone. Y/n raced over to her while Tanaka was still taking his shoes off.
“Hey—“
Y/n wrapped his arms around her before she could complete her sentence. She tensed for a moment before calming down and returning the hug. It was a tight embrace, with Y/n burying his face into Shimizu’s shoulder. A sigh left Y/n’s mouth before he greeted Kiyoko with a simple hello.
She laughed, an airy laugh one that made it apparent that she was enjoying the long embrace but was still amused with her boyfriend. Y/n seemed to have that affect on everyone else today. Y/n leaned back, not enough to get off of her completely, but enough to look at her face. He quickly began to pepper kisses about her face.
“Hey, don’t hog her.” Tanaka said as he finally made his way to where the other two were sitting.
Y/n smiled and stood up Kiyoko followed after him, and moved to greet her other boyfriend. Y/n looked fondly at his partners, but soon a look of confusion fell onto his place.
“How’d you get in?”
“Oh, Saeko let me in before she left for her Taiko Group.”
Y/n’s mouth opened slightly silently voicing his understanding.
The night progressed smoothly from there. Well as smoothly as could be expected for the group in question. Dinner was made, and although Y/n and Ryu were not nearly as skilled in the kitchen as Kiyoko, they made due. They all spent time telling each other about their day and talking about anything they could think of.
Eventually they all piled onto the Tanaka’s couch to watch movies. Midway through the first movie, Y/n ended up laying on top of Ryu, who’s head was in Kiyoko’s lap. Kiyoko’s hand ran down Y/n’s back, rubbing soothing lines absentmindedly as she watched the movie. Tanaka was equally as invested in the television as he lay there contently. Y/n’s eyes flickered away from the screen to his boyfriends face, and then to Shimizu’s. He leaned up a bit, placing a kiss to Ryu’s cheek, causing Kiyoko to glance at him. Kiyoko was happy, and by the look on her boyfriends faces they were too.
“I love you both” Kiyoko said as she turned her attention back to the movie.
“I love you too,” Y/n responded.
“Yeah, me too.”
Times that they got to spend time together were their favorite, even if they weren’t doing anything extravagant, they loved being around each other. That’s something that hasn’t changed since they’ve met. The want to spent as much time with one another has only grown. It was amazing to be loved, Y/n new that now more than ever. He couldn’t help but feel amazed by that feeling, but maybe he should just get use to it now.
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biaswreckingfics · 3 years
Text
To Be Replaced: Part 1
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Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 2.5k
“I’m so sorry, babe… You know I want to be home more than anything, but it’s unfortunately not up to me…” your boyfriend sadly tells you through the phone.
“I know, Baek… It’s okay. It’s just one more week and then you’ll be right back home with me.” You hide the sadness you’re feeling from your voice, so he doesn’t worry about you and feel guilty for the toll his career sometimes takes.
He suddenly whines in your ear. “Why does a week feel so long all of a sudden?”
You listen as your boyfriend of three years continues to pout into the phone. Of course, you were sad that he was going to be gone longer than the two of you had originally planned, but you had learned long ago to be understanding in these types of situations. You’ve grown used to dealing with traveling delays when it came to your boyfriend’s schedule. He was an idol and he was certainly “booked and busy”, and often being pulled in eight different directions. You had learned to just go along for the ride to make it easier on him.
This time it was no different. EXO had just wrapped up another world tour, and SM had found time to schedule more appearances for them before they came home. The only upside you could find in this scenario was more exposure for the boys and more interviews for you to watch online which is exactly what you would be doing in your now open week.
“Oh! Babe, I gotta go. There’s this stylist here who has shown me some really cool design ideas, and I think we’re going to collaborate for Privé! I’ll call you later! Love you!”
Your boyfriend suddenly hangs up and you pull your phone away from your ear to look at it. A small smile finds its way on your face thanks to your boyfriend’s antics. Privé was his baby and he had been eager to find inspiration for a new line for his clothing company. Fortunately, it sounded like he had finally found some.
A week later
You pick up the throw pillow on the couch and fluff it up for the third time while you wait for your boyfriend to arrive home. It was an anxious habit you had somehow developed. Whenever Baekhyun was gone for long periods of time, you wanted him to come home to a neat and tidy apartment. It lowered his stress levels and opened up time for the two of you to be together instead of worrying about a dirty house.
You at least hoped he was coming home today. You had hardly spoken to him in the past week, assumingly because he was busy with schedules and trying to finally catch up on sleep. The last you heard; his plane was arriving at 5pm. Which was 20 minutes ago, you note as you look at the clock on the wall.
Your phone rings and you pull it out of your back pocket and check the caller ID. A smile crosses your features as you glance at the name before answering the phone.
“Hello, Oh Sehun.”
“Hey, we’re just about to leave the airport and I’m already thinking about food. Want to go get dinner?”
“My boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in months, is about to be home. I promise you; dinner is the last thing on my mind right now.”
Sehun makes a disgusted sound in your ear. “I definitely don’t need to hear about you and Baekhyun’s dirty sex life. A ‘no’ would’ve been fine.”
“I wasn’t…” you sigh and glance around the apartment while trying to find patience. “Whatever… No, thank you, Sehun. Please, eat something delicious for me.”
You can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “There’s a joke there… but I’ll let it slide this time. Let’s get together soon, okay?”
“Absolutely, but before you go… Baekhyun is with you, right?” you can’t help but ask.
Sehun pauses at your odd question before slowly asking, “Where else would he be?”
You sink down on the couch once you hear the question he bounces back at you. Obviously, Baekhyun would be with them. “Sorry, dumb question. I just haven’t heard from him in a while, so I wasn’t sure what his schedule was.”
“Why haven’t you heard from him? Did you guys get into a fight or something?”
Your head jerks back in confusion. It was rare for Baekhyun and you to get into an argument, and as your best friend, Sehun knew that.
“No? He was probably just too busy to call.”
Sehun snorts. “I doubt that. We had more free time than any of us expected. Horrible planning on SM’s part, but I won’t bother you with the boring details right now.”
Your brows furrow as even more confusion fills you. What did he mean they had more free time than expected, and if that was the case, why hasn’t Baekhyun called or texted you? You quietly voice your thoughts out loud and Sehun hears you.
“I mean… he was with Maya a lot, but I assume he would’ve talked to you too?”
You lean back into the couch and run the name through your head before coming up empty. “Who’s Maya?”
Rustling from Sehun’s end fills your ears before you hear the sound of a car door shutting. Chanyeol’s deep voice is heard in the background before Sehun responds.
“She’s some designer that was working with one of our stylists. She offered to help Baekhyun design some things for Privé. Didn’t he tell you?”
You hear Chanyeol ask why Sehun is talking about Maya before it must click into place who he is talking to, and he’s suddenly yelling hi to you.
From the sounds of it, the boys knew who she was, so she must be legit. Good. You were happy Baekhyun had someone to help him come up with some new designs. Hopefully, she can help him bring his visions to life, and help him design something really cool.
Sehun and you stay on the phone and talk for a while until you hear keys fumbling against your apartment door. Your heart shoots into your throat and you jump up from the couch in excitement, telling Sehun you have to go and hanging up while waiting for Baekhyun to enter. You hadn’t physically seen your boyfriend in months, and you couldn’t freaking wait to have him back in your arms.
Baekhyun pushes open the door and before he can get all the way inside, you’re running for him and throwing your arms around his neck. He lets out a noise at the impact, but his arms quickly wrap around your waist and he squeezes you tightly.
“I missed you, love.” He mumbles in your ear.
You lean back and find his lips, mumbling a quick “I missed you too” before finally kissing him. The kiss turns more passionate than you intend and Baekhyun blindly closes the apartment door with his foot before turning around and pushing you against it.
“God, I missed the way you taste.”
“Well, I’m right here, Baek, and I’m all yours.”
His eyes darken with lust as a mischievous smirk grows on his face. “Good, because we have a lot of missed time to make up for.”
---------------------------------------
A few hours later, Baekhyun and you are laying tangled up in your sheets and catching each other up on everything that had taken place the past couple of months. You told him about the boring things that happened with your work and family, and he shared with you the antics his members pulled while on tour.
When he tells you about Maya, you take in his excitement and the way he’s animatedly talking about all the ideas they were able to come up with, with a smile. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Baekhyun this excited about anything, and it was nice to see that light in his eyes again.
“I’m telling you. She. Is. A genius. I don’t know how she came up with half of her designs, but I’m so happy she offered to help me.”
The way Baekhyun speaks about her makes her seem larger than life, and almost out of this world cool, and the way his heartbeat speeds up because of how excitedly he is talking is nice. Did it bother you that he was talking so eagerly about another woman while the two of you were naked in bed? Maybe the slightest twinge of something was there, but you were more happy for him than anything else.
“I’m happy you got a chance to work together. It sounds like she helped you out a lot.” You smile up at him from where your head was resting on his chest.
“Oh, we’ll have plenty more chances.” When you stare up at him curiously, he continues. “She’s been hired to be one of EXO’s stylists.”
You pause, slightly surprised with the information. “They hired her just like that?”
“I gave her a good recommendation.” Baekhyun shrugs underneath you. “She’s already said she’s willing to keep working with me, so now we’ll have even more time together.”
You stare up at him and take in his beautiful features. When he looks down at you, his glowing face smiles and he kisses your forehead. You can see his excitement at the fact that he gets to continue working with her and you couldn’t be happier that he found someone else he can bounce his ideas off of. He could only ask your opinion so many times before your ideas became stale, and you knew next to nothing about high fashion, so she would be way more helpful than you could ever hope to be.
The next day, you join Baekhyun at a shoot he and the other EXO members had scheduled. You found it hard to believe SM couldn’t give them at least a couple of days off before making them work again, but the selfish part of you was happy because now you could see all the guys at once.
As soon as you walk in, there’s a flurry of movement as directors and lighting men work to get everything set up. You stick close to Baekhyun like usual to stay out of everyone’s way, and quickly spot the guys hanging off to the side on a couple of couches. Baekhyun and you walk hand-in-hand in their direction before a beautiful blonde intercepts you.
“Hey, Baek. I have some more designs for you to look at.” The strange girl flashes a blinding smile at him as her hand comes up to grip his arm. She pulls him in a different direction without so much as a glance at you and he immediately lets go of your hand to follow her.
You stand there stunned as you try to figure out what just happened before looking over at the pair to see them lost in their own world. Judging by the words she spoke, you assume the girl is Maya, but you couldn’t know for sure because Baekhyun didn’t introduce you. It was almost like he forgot you were even there.
You shake it off and continue your trek over to the rest of the guys who all greet you the second you’re within earshot. You see an open spot next to Sehun and immediately drop down into it, catching his attention.
“I see you met Maya.” He dryly comments.
“Did I?” You respond, using as much sarcasm as you can muster. Could you call what just happened a meeting?
Sehun glances over to make sure he was talking about the right person and looks back at you with a roll of his eyes. “They were like that the whole time abroad too. It’s like she’s fucking sticky tape.”
You look back over at Maya and take a better look at her appearance. She was gorgeous with long legs that seemed to go on for miles. She gave off European model vibes like she was putting “I’m too sexy and cool, so don’t talk to me” in the air. You feel a twinge of insecurity and immediately stamp it out. Sure, she is gorgeous, but Baekhyun loves you and you had no doubts about that.
“She looks like a model.” You comment causing Sehun to snort.
“She was a model. I guess she decided designing was more her passion.
Oh…
You spend the rest of the day hanging out with the guys or playing on your phone. You had hardly seen Baekhyun since you got here. Maybe a quick “hi” once or twice before Maya was pulling him away again, so you were beyond relieved when the crew was wrapping up for the day and Baekhyun suddenly appeared next to you.
“Hey, babe. Sorry I’ve been so busy today. You were probably bored out of your mind.” He says while he leans over the couch and hugs you from behind.
“It’s okay.” You pat his hand before standing up and walking around the couch to him. “The guys kept me plenty entertained… but I’m ready to finally be with you...”
He pulls you into his arms and gives you a tight hug that you want to stay wrapped up in forever. However, you’re pulled out of the moment when you feel someone’s hand graze your arms as they touch Baekhyun’s lower back. A throat clearing has you and Baekhyun looking behind him, and you meet the eyes of none other than Maya.
Baekhyun quickly moves over to your side and wraps an arm around your waist before turning to face the newcomer. “Hey, Maya! There’s someone I want you to meet. This is Y/N.”
Her expression is unreadable as she looks you up and down like she’s appraising you.  “What do you do for the company?”
You blink a couple of times at her indifferent tone while Baekhyun gives her a weird look.
“Y/N’s my girlfriend… I told you about her on tour.”
Her face changes and you see the exact moment a mask slides into place. She gives you a fake smile while she waves away Baekhyun’s words.
“Oh, right. The girlfriend.” She lets out a light giggle that sounds completely out of place. “I guess I just had other things on my mind when you were talking about her.”
You stare at her as her and Baekhyun continue to talk and try to ignore the bad vibes you were getting from the introduction you just had with her. So many thoughts ran through your head, but you take one look at Baekhyun and decide to keep them to yourself. He looked happier and more relaxed than he has in a while, and you didn’t want anything to ruin that.
You couldn’t be happier that he has found someone to share his passion with… but a part of you was incredibly bummed out that it was no longer you.
Tagging: @gyukult @marovekian1 @making-me-blush @softforqiankun​ @sebootyforlife​ @nothingbutadeadesceane​ @cardtak​ @brie02​ @jungkooksworld18​ @insta1010​ @suhappysuho​ @purple-bell​
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angry-geese · 3 years
Text
505
bruno bucciarati x reader
warnings: nsfw. 18+ Tender sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem recieving). some fluff. fem!reader
notes: more bruno/abba survives au. this takes place post the events of VA
You're not really sure how this became your job.
Don Giovanna sent him on some job he could tell you little about.
Over the past few weeks, you had basically become the gang's secretary. Your own injuries had kept you out of the field, which you found yourself eager to get back into. Bruno didn't want you pushing yourself too hard, and someone had to stay back to make sure the others didn't burn the place down.
This was the longest he's ever been away from home. What was supposed to be a one week trip soon turned into a month. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. Your phone calls were growing shorter, and less frequent. On the other end he often sounded tired, and had little to talk about. While there was no ill will between the two of you before he left, the distance was putting a strain on things.
Somewhere outside a car door shuts. The sound is muffled by the thick walls, and the clock that ticks a bit too loud. You've reread the report about a dozen times. It's nothing of note, just a mission brief from Mista, but you can't seem to focus on it. Bruno was supposed to call you an hour ago. Even if this isn't his fault, you can't help but be a bit angry with him. This wasn't what you signed up for. You wanted a partner that would be around, not constantly running errands for the don.
You don't hear the door to his office open.
"I've missed you, amore," Bruno's arms wrap around you from behind, "I'm sorry I was gone so long."
He pulls you up into a kiss- just a quick peck on your lips, then the tip of your nose, then your forehead. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, your body caged in his strong arms. The scent of his cologne mingles with something metallic. He smooths his hand over your hair, pulling you in close. You pull him back down for another kiss, half drunk off the feeling of being so close to him. Maybe you missed him more than you thought. He looks at you with such adoration that you want to melt. Affection swells in your chest, your heart racing.
Bruno presses a kiss to your neck, gently nipping at the soft flesh. You wrap your arms around him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Although you can't see his face, you feel his lips curl into a smile. His hands find your waist, working lower and lower. The movement is so slow that you hardly notice when he's at your thighs, tugging them apart. It's not long after you feel something hard pressing against your hip.
"Bruno!" It's hard to sound serious when you're giggling. His presence makes you feel giddy. "We can't do that in here."
Can't isn't really the right word for it. The two of you have fucked in his office before, but not with so many people at the hideout. If he hadn't planned on taking his time with you, he'd fuck you over the desk now.
He pulls away for only a moment. "You don't want the others to hear, do you?"
You shake your head.
"Good girl," his voice sends heat straight to your core. Unconsciously you rub your thighs together, desperate for any bit of friction.
You should be glad the door to his office locks.
Bruno hauls you into his arms, sitting you down on his desk so you're facing him. Gently, he shoves your thighs apart, giving him room to settle between them. His hands work to undo the buttons of your blouse before you get impatient and pull the thing over your head. Through the thin padding of your bra, he kneads the soft flesh of your breasts. He trails kisses down your neck, sucking a dark mark into your pulse point. His erection strains against his pants, painfully hard, leaking precum against his thigh. Although he's normally a patient man, today is challenging that.
There's not much privacy at the hideout. Under any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed at how quick he can turn you to putty. His touch is far too distracting to let you think about anything but him. Bruno has a way of making you melt. At times its truly frightening- he knew all the different ways of pushing your buttons.
He pushes up the fabric of your skirt, humming in amusement when he realizes you have nothing on underneath. He's hardly touched you and you're already wet. His fingers trace across your soft skin, reveling in its warmth. Bruno moves so he's kneeling between your legs, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh. There's a dark look in his eyes. He licks a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound, glancing up to see your desperate expression. Your face is flushed, eyes half open, lips bitten pink. A heat pools low in your stomach, only amplified by his skilled touch.
"Bruno please..." You whine.
"Please what?" He rests his head on your thigh. His hair tickles.
"Fuck me-"
He laughs, the noise coming from low in his chest. Bruno presses a kiss to the flesh just above your clit, before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. The sudden action makes you jump. He hooks his arms around your thighs, pulling you towards him. He eats pussy like a man starved. Latching onto the bundle of nerves, he swirls his tongue around it. Your hands bury in his hair, tugging gently. Each little gasp and moan you make spurs him on more. You're trying to be quiet, but he wants the others to hear how good he makes you feel.
His long fingers press at your entrance- just one at first. You're so wet already he's not worried about hurting you, but he does give you a moment to get used to him. He adds a second, curling his fingers, stroking at your sweet spot. A particularly loud moan makes you clamp a hand over your mouth. In his hands, he can feel your legs shake. You're getting a bit more disheveled, and closer to your orgasm. The heat that pooled in your stomach soon turns scorching in intensity. Your legs tighten around his head, making him groan. The only noises aside from your own moans are the sounds of a man very content with what he's doing. He could die happy, trapped between your thighs. He'd spend hours doing this if you'd let him. Usually you do.
One final swirl of his tongue sends you over the edge. You cry out as you cum, clamping your thighs around his head. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue until the overstimulation becomes too much and you cry out. Bruno pulls away, the lower half of his face wet with your slick, his hair a complete mess.
You palm him through his pants. He wastes no time in freeing his cock, giving himself a few pumps before lining up with your entrance. It takes everything in him to not moan out your name. You're already so wet that he slides right in. It doesn't matter if this is the first time he's done this, or his hundredth. You always turned him into a moaning mess. His fingers dig into your hips- not hard enough to leave bruises, but his nails leave little indents in your skin. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him flush to your chest. Maybe he was a bit more pent up than he thought.
His thrusts start out shallow. Part of it is him looking for any signs of discomfort from you. Your eyes are half lidded, cheeks flushed, chest heaving. He smooths a hand over your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.
"Harder," you rake your nails across his back, "you're not going to break me."
"I'm just taking my time, amore." He says, although he does pick up the pace a bit.
Your collective moans mix with the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin. He hits all the sweets spots you didn't even know you had. Before him, you had never cum from just penetration alone. At this angle, he hits deep. His hand that isn't grabbing your thigh finds its way into your hair, pulling your face to his. He pulls you into a kiss, nibbling at your bottom lip until you let him in, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth. His thrusts grow sloppier as he nears his own orgasm- which he's getting to faster than he'd like to admit. You're not very far behind, your stomach tightening when he strokes a particularly sensitive spot. By now, you've long since stopped trying to be quiet. It's not the first time this has happened- and certainly won't be the last. Bruno grunts when you clench around him, so close to your own release.
Your orgasm rolls over you like a wave, leaving you sleepy and sated. He holds your shaky form against him as he gives a few more thrusts, cumming inside. He stays there for a bit while the two of you calm down, his chest heaving. Your skin is tacky with sweat. Cum drips onto the table when he pulls out, staining the fabric of your skirt. Weakly, he presses a kiss to your forehead, mumbling a "I love you". you card your hands through his soft hair, saying it back.
Hopefully the don wouldn't mind his reports being a little bit late.
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roger-that-cap · 3 years
Text
meet me in the gardens
summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either. 
warnings: lots of emotions, feelings, slightly cynical and bitter reader- she’s honestly just being a realist, we are chugging forward, did not check for typos, format could be fucked up bc i’m posting from my phone quite literally minutes before i clock in- PATHETIC LMAO
word count: 2.7k
this is a short chapter by my standards, but it felt long to me because of the things in it??? this is part five! all other parts can be found on my masterlist, it’s my pinned post!
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“What’s got you smiling like that?” Wanda asked while she tied your corset, not even needing to ask whether it was too tight or loose. You looked up in your vanity and immediately tried to wipe your smile away, but it was too late. She knew you better than anyone, and she had yet to see a thoughtful smile on your face, ever. Pietro, who had caught you going back inside the previous night, caught on to the fact that you looked more carefree, and that you just seemed to look like you were carrying around less. 
“Nothing.” 
“Hmm,” Wanda hummed, an entertained look on her face. Something told you that she already had an idea of what was going on, even though there was no way she could have. Besides, you hardly even knew what was going on. “I’ll ask again later.” She looked you in the eyes through the mirror, a slightly mischievous smile on her face. “Maybe then you’ll tell the truth,” she said, flicking you on the side of the head, and then letting it rest.
§§
Natasha was out in the village doing whatever it was the knights did one night, and she was planning on spending the night at a bed and breakfast before coming back in the morning. As disheartened as you were about not being able to see her for your stargazing, you were partly glad for it. You missed being with the twins. 
You had dinner with them alone, sitting and laughing about old memories and scheduling times to make new ones together. You loved the way you could be with them. Your laughter was allowed to go over the volume of a giggle without them looking at you like you had grown seven heads, your silverware were allowed to take a tumble onto your plate with a clatter without a second glance, and you were allowed to use whatever language you pleased. You missed the comfort that you felt with them, the comfort that your brain and the part of you that would always be the farm girl felt with them. 
“And Pietro chased him all the way off, you should have seen how terrified he was,” Wanda recapped, and you couldn't help but grin at Pietro, who was sipping wine with his charming grin. “That boy will never lift another skirt, I can assure you of that.” 
“I’m glad,” you mused, shooting Pietro a look that made him laugh. 
“Enough about me,” he said after swallowing a sip of his wine that was much more like a gulp. “We’re not going to talk about how you’ve been walking on the clouds for weeks now?” 
You nearly dropped your fork again. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve both realized,” Pietro said, motioning with his buttered knife towards his sister, who had a soft smile on her face as she observed your reaction. “That you have been significantly happier. Even with the circumstances-”
“Pietro,” Wanda hissed, but you just snorted and shook your head. 
“It’s like you found your own little pocket of happiness. We were worried about you, but, you’re doing alright.” Ever the blatant one out of the three of you, he leaned forward with his trademark smirk, eyes full of curiosity. “What do you know that we don't?” 
You hesitated for a second, mouth opening and closing twice as you grappled for anything to say, even a lie. And then, you settled on just shrugging your shoulders with a grin, shaking your head. “Honestly, Pietro, I know nothing. I don’t know anything.”
§§
Your heart was beating faster than normal as you looked at the woman next to you, your hand subconsciously itching closer to hers as you sat on the ground, ass on the blanket that you had brought out.  “I would like to… show you something.” 
It was probably the twentieth time that you and Natasha had met with each other, and still, you were entranced by her and everything that she did.  And you were entranced while you stared at her and waited for her answer, just a little nervous as to what she would say. 
As if she would ever say no to something you said. 
“Show me anything you’d like me to see,” Natasha urged on, and you fought back a smile. You stood up, and she did the same, and then you were picking up the blanket and walking side by side with her. It was quiet the entire way there as you walked in step with her, hand brushing against her every few steps and sending tingles down your arm every time it happened. 
The feeling that you got when she touched you made you feel both alive and scared to death. You weren’t stupid. You knew what you were steadily collecting more than friendly feelings for her, and that she may have been on the same page you were on. The game you were playing was a dangerous one, the risk threatening to swallow up the reward more and more by the day. 
You had known that being with her by yourself was bad judgement, ever since the first time you did it. Hell, the look you gave her the first time you met her was far from appropriate. Every single conversation that you had with her was a risk, and both of you knew it. And now that your soon-to-be husband was approaching, it was even more scandalous. No one knew and you hoped no one would ever find out, but hiding forever wasn’t a choice. But what would you be hiding if there were no true feelings? 
You hated yourself for falling for her and her pretty words. 
“I used to come here to escape,” you started, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, voice low as you passed the tree line to get into the thick of the woods. You narrowly missed stepping in a particularly muddy spot on the ground. “This was my spot, before I got the garden of course.”
“The woods?” 
“No, Nat,” you said, slightly amused as you stepped over a fallen branch. You smiled a bit when the sound of running water hit your ears.  “The stream.” 
You knew the exact second that she saw it, because her eyes widened and her breath hitched.  “That’s not a stream, that’s a river.”
“It’s the forgotten part of the main river,” you explained. “It’s much skinnier and more shallow, and it doesn't have nearly as much fish coming through, so people forget about it.” You looked towards her and saw how intrigued she was by it, so you judged her armor free body with a slight smirk. “What? Never seen running water?”
“I lived in the capital, all they had was the ocean. And even then I was never allowed on the harbor if I wasn’t selling clams, and I didn’t sell clams much.”
You felt silence start to grow between the two of you, so you said the first thing that you thought of. “You don’t look like a clam seller.” 
He looked away from the river and to you, a slight grin on her face even as she talked again. “And you don’t look like a petal kisser, blossom, but look where we are today.”
Your heart raced in your chest. “Blossom? Is that what you’re calling me now?” 
“It’s only payback for calling me ‘cherry’,” she said, and you stifled a laugh at the retired name, glancing up at the red hair that you had gotten inspiration from.  
“You didn’t actually mind it,” you said, looking off into the distance, only looking back at her when a warm hand slotted over yours. You blinked and looked down at your hands, which she had intertwined, and then back up at her again, only to see that she was staring straight ahead in the dark at the way the moonlight hit the water. 
“How could I?” She asked softly, a subtle breeze picking up.”You were the one saying it.” She looked at you, and in the dim lighting, you could have sworn that her eyes were saying, you can call me anything in the book, and I will own it proudly. And then, the look changed to something else, something less devoting, and something more passionate. It took you a few seconds to understand what the look meant, and before you could fully register it, she was leaning forward. 
A few seconds came and went where you could feel your heartbeat all over, and you tried to look somewhere other than in her eyes. You couldn't. “Don’t look at me like that.” When all Natasha did was tilt her head to the side and give you an even more intense version of the look, you let out a small sigh. “Please.”
“Why not?” 
She knew why. She knew why probably better than you did after living in the capital. She saw what happened firsthand to people who committed crimes, and those who committed second degree adultery. If you two did what you were wanting to do with your entire heart, you would fall right into that category. “I know where this is going,” you said softly, “and this won’t end well.” 
“Why not?” She asked again, and you turned your head to the side, shaking it slightly and closing your eyes. 
“Because, I’m about to get married,” you hissed, and though you didn’t mean to sound so angry, you did. Natasha was hardly affected. 
She lifted her arms and let them fall against her clothing with a soft slap that still echoed in the night. “You’re not married right now.” 
“But I will be, Natasha,” you said, gripping her hands and squeezing  them softly, begging for her to understand you. “What’s going to happen when I get married to a man who already has a streak for murdering his wives, and he finds out that I have feelings for you? He’ll kill me. He’ll kill you. And if he doesn’t, we’ll both be hung for adultery, after being put into torture camps for being… together as women.” 
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Y/N, you know that.” The fervency in her tone nearly shocked you as she took a bold step forward, nearly surrounding you in her scent and energy. “I would never let anything happen to you.” 
“You’re too important for me to condemn to death and dishonor just because I have feelings for you. It was selfish of me to meet with you in the first place, but I can’t let myself do this. It’s a bad idea,” You said, voice hushed even though no one would have followed you. You were trembling, hand shaking more than anything else as you tried to understand how fast everything was moving; forward and backwards, sewing together and ripping apart all the same. If you were any more attentive to her expression, you would have seen the grin that lit up her face as your confession. “We were just about to cross a line. We’ve crossed quite a few dotted ones, but this one? It is bold and blaring.” 
“Blossom,” Natasha started, and you just shook your head and kept going. 
“And-and what we were just about to do? That crosses the line. We cannot.” 
“Do you really think my feelings for you are going to change depending on whether or not we kiss?” She asked, her voice slightly deeper than usual, almost sounding insulted. “You’re telling me to close my heart off from you, not to not kiss you. And you know that.”  
“What if I am?” You asked, eyes starting to burn with tears. “I’m doing it for the right reasons, Nat. I’m trying to save us from a world of hurt when reality finally sinks in.”
“That isn’t today.” She took another step forward and this time, you couldn't find the strength in you to step back. “And it isn’t tomorrow, and not even within the fortnight. You and I have something, and I know that you know it’s different. It’s special. We would be so stupid to ignore it, so stupid.” 
“I know, I know,” you said, voice tapering off into a whine as you slowly felt your resolve come apart, even though you thought it was stronger. “I’m sorry.”
 “You don’t have to apologize,” Natasha said after a few minutes of pure silence, and you found yourself exhaling. “I just wish things were different.” 
  “I know,” she said, and you turned to look up at the sky, tears threatening to come down on your cheeks. The stars seemed to twinkle and wink at you, talking amongst themselves about a future you had no idea about just yet. 
“Guess they’re never gonna line up,” you murmured to yourself, and then you heard Natasha grumble something from your side, and then she was coming closer, a barreling energy force full of passion and intent, and you knew exactly what she was coming for. For less than a split second, you thought about it. And then you turned your head and met her halfway. 
You would have been surprised by the passion in it if you weren’t just as desperate for the contact. You twisted in her arms, already wrapped around you as she drew you in close, closer than you had ever been with her, and the tears that were welling up before were now escaping for a different reason. Your lips were pressing into hers, moving fluidly and with an air of fervor that she matched equally. You felt wanted, and needed, and you felt loved. You felt the tenderness of the moment with every brush of her fingers on the back of your neck and with every rub of your back over the thin material of your night dress. 
Your legs were shaking, and she noticed before you did that you were getting weak in the knees. She held you up and pulled back slightly, just enough for you to feel her lips brush against yours while she asked if you were okay, like she wasn’t willing to take herself from you just yet. And honestly, you weren’t ready for her to leave you, either. You nodded, and she leaned in again, much slower, and then you had time to think. 
Her eyes weren’t the same shade they were when the sun hit them, they were almost an eerie pale blue, but they were still just as gorgeous to you, especially now that they were slanted with desire. Her hair wasn’t perfect like she somehow always managed or it to be, and you realized that it was because you had gotten a hand to run through it despite the way that she had previously held you like a lifeline. Her lashes were long, and you swore that she was close enough that you could count them. Her cheekbones were accentuated in the lighting, making her look like something straight out of a fairy tale, like a floating fae creature that led people to safety. In that moment, you could have sworn that she was the answer to every prayer you had ever whispered, to every question you had ever asked your etiquette teachers. In that moment, and in every moment to come, she was your ending and beginning, your creation and destruction, your sunrise and sunset. She was Natasha Romanoff, and in that moment, no wedding or murderous man even held a candle to the way you felt about her.
  What a beautiful person. 
“Now you’re looking at me strangely,” Natasha said, her voice quieter than you had ever heard it as the both of you treated over the moment carefully, trying not to break it and leave it in shambles. “What are you thinking about?” 
“How I’m going to have to pretend like this never happened in a few weeks,” you said softly, and part of you hated yourself for bringing up the bad part of the future so soon after you both had just lost all ties to reality. 
“You don’t have to,” she said, stroking your hair. “We can just keep doing what we’re doing, sneaking off in the night and coming back in the morning before anyone realizes. Nothing really has to change, I just want you to know that I… that we can be whatever you want us to be.” 
“As long as we’re in the confines of the garden walls.” 
“And now the woods,” Natasha said, and you couldn’t help but laugh in her arms. 
“And now the woods."
****
this is short, but i couldn’t see anything being tacked on to this. we’re at an important part, and from here it’s gonna be fun!! thank y’all for reading; if you liked it please drop a like and a reblog bc it makes my day!! comments also make me ascend y’all
tags!! : tags! : @teenwonder @saamwilscn @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife​ @shycucumbersandwich @dailyavengering @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @chickenhavewisdom
so sorry if i forgot anyone!!!!!
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cherrynojutsu · 3 years
Text
Title: Like Gold
Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.
Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.
Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)
AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes ending author's notes
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Chapter 8/?: Grasping
Sasuke awakens abruptly, nausea clawing its way out of his throat like a soup of sepsis that’s been left percolating on a stovetop for too long, finally boiling over and soiling everything.
Stomach churning, he tries to aim it at the floor - he’s gotten better at doing that, over the years - but he doesn’t quite succeed. Hot bile, acidic with mostly digested dinner, coats the side of his bedding and part of his sleeve.
He coughs, gagging on acid and torment and hyperventilation. Then his stomach lurches again, and he turns to retch another round at the floor. Part of it floods his nostrils, stinging, and he rasps more.
That triggers another round, after which he waits a minute, sharp coughs punctuating the stillness, familiar at this point with what his stomach’s settling feels like. He shrugs off his shirt once it does, and makes his way to the kitchen, hacking on a foul aftertaste and vomit-inducing visuals flashing before his eyes.
A glance at the clock tells him it’s half past midnight as he gulps water, snorting in a manner very undignified to clear out his nasal passages and soothe the putrid taste overwhelming his insides. Then he chokes more of it down, feeling the beginnings of a pounding headache.
There are times when having a near photographic memory is not a good thing. He is very tired of recalling crackling electricity, of stumbling over body after body with lifeless eyes. Men, women, children, all with charcoal irises like his.
And teammates, with irises decidedly not like his, luster flattened to single dull colors.
And himself, at the end, deranged and dispiteous, standing where Itachi had stood a long time ago, looming over remains as if he himself is the final obstacle to defeat before it just ends, the culminating villain in some fucked up fable. All at once, he’s a child again, gagging on a demented form of truth, left to stew there for years and years and years, rotting him from the inside out.
He's noxious. He knows he is. He wishes he could spit himself out along with partially digested yakitori.
Sasuke takes another sip of water as his vision blurs, trying desperately to focus on the wood grain of the cabinets and not daring to close his eyes, lest another flash snake its way into his ocularity and undo the mild soothing the water is providing. He coughs again, throat raw. Then his mouth starts watering, a telltale sign that he’s going to throw up again, so he walks carefully to the bathroom, bottle in hand and trying not to jostle his stomach more than is necessary. Switching on the light and flipping up the seat of the toilet, he makes it just in time.
This round it’s mostly just water, and it burns a little less. The murky brown color he’s faced with seems very reflective of what he feels inside, ignominy and wretchedness and self-loathing, no substance at all, just a bitter aftertaste of that which was left behind on a wood floor a lifetime ago. There had been saliva then, too, seeping from his mouth to the floor in his cowardice.
He swallows once, a gargantuan effort. Then he takes another sip of water, studying the text on the label to try to distract himself, vile and unsettled as he is.
He doesn’t deserve Sakura, not after what he’s done. When his vision starts to blur again, he can’t read anymore anyway, so he looks at the mangled mess left of his left arm instead.
He deserves that, a maiming to fit the crime. He wishes he were a better man.
Slowly so as not to further disturb his stomach, he lies down sideways, pressing his cheek to the coolness of the floor. He feels disconnected from everything, at a loss for proper coherent thought, a mess of misery sprawled on a tile too clean for his own rancidness.
Nothing matters for a long time. He just stares into nothingness, a mild burning in his throat and eyes on a void of pure white that he doesn’t belong in, thinking about how it matches the skin tone of bodies that have been drained of all their color. It’s like he’s barely there, nothing seeming real except the hollow feeling in his chest and the buzzing sensation tempering the edge of his consciousness, like his brain has been stuffed with cotton but parts of it are burning away to nothing. Everything of substance singes away in a controlled burn, destined to always have gaping holes of meaning scorched away at random wherever the fire takes hold.
He doesn't know if there ever even was anything in the first place, deep down. Maybe corrosion is a terrible metaphor, because what's left, at the end of it? Layers and layers of useless shale and sandstone and limestone, packed atop Precambrian filth that’s been decaying there for what feels like centuries. Or magma, set to burn anything he touches.
Or electrocute it.
XXX
Suddenly it’s hours later, and a bird is chirping outside, twitters resounding through a metaphysical tunnel of distortion. Gradually it shifts into an audio that doesn’t sound quite as echoed, accentuated by light filtering in through the miniscule bathroom window.
This happens, sometimes, the nightmares and the absconding into abeyance where his brain seems to shut off, a resulting loss of significant chunks of time. Not sleeping, just staring at something dully for a while, stuck on the same cycle of repeating thought. The memorial stone is a trigger for it, he thinks. It’s why he dreaded going there, upon his return, although it's complicated. Occasionally, visiting it seems to bring feelings that are almost positive, where it feels like he’s reaching out to reclaim tiny shattered shards of what used to be his heart. Mostly, though, it’s just mourning. The reading of names may be what compels the worst of them; sometimes he thinks if he looks too long, he’ll learn things he doesn’t want to know.
Exhausted, he drags himself to his feet and begins wryly picking up the pieces, chest hurting from heaving. He throws his bedding and his shirt haphazardly into the washing machine, drowning them in soap before he grabs cleaner to do the same to his floors.
It smells disgusting, like it’s been petrifying in his stomach for years. He supposes that makes sense; a lot of things have.
Once the surface is clean, he gets in the shower, not caring that all of the hot water is being used for the laundry; the icy cold helps wake him up. He’s fatigued, lethargic, but he knows better than to try to go back to sleep at this point.
As he fights shivers in the towel afterwards, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looks awful. Pale and sickly, repulsive, purple sallow staining his skin the same color as the Rinnegan. His normal eye is bloodshot, vacant charcoal that pollutes everything it touches. He lets the black of his hair shift over his Rinnegan eye in a manner he's well accustomed to by now.
His remaining eye inches to the corner of the mirror, the front of the medicine cabinet.
He carefully procures a cough drop, and then makes sencha tea, hoping the caffeine will dull his headache. There’s a part of him that still feels like he’s hardly there, like he’s a ghost just going through the motions. When he takes a sip, it feels good on the throat, but the vomiting earlier has partially singed away the surface of his tongue; he hardly tastes it.
Sasuke then takes the photo from when they were Genin to the living room, grasping onto it for dear life in more ways than one. He alternates between studying it and gazing out the glass, to the cherry blossom tree across the street.
An hour passes, slowly, sitting there thinking about what he does and doesn’t deserve, a mess of thoughts swirling down the drain of his mind. Then another. The luminescence of the day begins trickling in more, green buds across the street gaining back their pigment.
He’s not sure if he should even go to Sakura’s still, because he feels like he’s going to make even worse company today than he usually does, as tired as he is. But he’s weak, and he selfishly wants her; there’s an equanimity only she can provide, the swingback of a pendulum briefly through a sense of normalcy, and he needs the chance to look into jade eyes, to see the light hit them, to ascertain that the chatoyancy has not been dulled. And she’s not dead, despite his inner psyche screaming at him that she would be, had Naruto or Kakashi arrived just a second later. He needs to thank them for that, when he gets the chance, though the timing has never felt right to bring it up.
And he loves her. He's not sure if his love is worth anything, contemptible as he is, but it’s the main reason he can make sense out of the absolute mess that is his inner thought process this morning. So he goes.
XXX
It helps. He’s enormously exhausted, and the light of day hurts his eyes, even once he’s inside and is only absorbing its rays from the diamond window, but it helps.
“Sasuke-kun,” she greets in a voice like honey as she opens her door to him, dimple on open display. She really is so lovely, multi-faceted jade sparking with life that nearly instantly calms some of his anxiety.
He is briefly concerned about what he looks like to her, today. He checked prior to coming over here, brushing his teeth thrice in the hopes that his breath wouldn’t be bad, that he could drench his innards in enough clarifying mint to be even remotely deserving of a small amount of her affection. His eye was a little less bloodshot at that point, but overall he still looked like hell, sickly and pallid.
“Sakura,” he murmurs in response, voice hoarse from being put through a ringer of his own making.
There is a prolonged moment in which she examines him, wearing an analytical expression that reminds him of clinician Sakura. Then the spell is broken, as if she’s forcibly turned that part of herself off, and she’s stepping aside and telling him softly, “Come in! I made onigirazu.”
He steps inside her entryway, setting his book on the console table momentarily beside where Hazel Wood lies, ready to be returned. He then shifts out of her way so he can remove his shoes. He’s not particularly hungry, but he’s glad it’s something fairly simple and heavy on the rice; he should be able to eat it fine.
He follows her inside, appreciating the subdued luminosity of her lamps along the way. The blankets are already laid out on the couch, a promise of simple warmth and companionship that he is very much looking forward to.
As his eye adjusts and he enters the kitchen, ready to grab a plate, his gaze locks on remnants of sliced tomatoes atop a cutting board he recognizes, though it’s familiar to him from his own apartment, not hers.
It’s exactly the same design as the one Naruto gifted him.
A fire roars to life in his ribcage as he freezes for a split second, an exhausted icy hot appreciation. It’s an implication that means the world to him, and particularly well timed.
She wants him around, to help prepare future meals.
“I put some sliced tomatoes in yours. I hope it’s okay,” Sakura says as she hands him a plate, not addressing the elephant in the room at all, as if she just needed a new cutting board and happened to pick up that one, though he knows that cannot possibly be the case; he'd seen at least two in her cupboard, before. “Would you like tea, or maybe some water?”
He nods stiffly, vision a bit blurry, then comprehends the second question.
“Water is fine,” he manages thickly.
They sit in front of her window, supple sunshine streaming in. It’s not too bright here, angled just right.
“...How was your morning?” He asks after taking a sip of water, voice still gravelly. He is beyond content to be sitting here, just looking at her, so much better than a picture.
“Good. Ino and I walk or jog in the early morning on Sundays, if it's nice. Hinata comes sometimes; she did today.” She chews a bite of her rice sandwich.
Sasuke blinks; she hasn’t mentioned that yet. Another chunk of her schedule falls into place. “...Where?”
A half smile blooms on her lips, dimple pushed into being. “Sometimes we run laps around the village, but usually there's no real destination; we just walk and visit.” She takes a sip of her own water. “It’s nice when Hinata comes; it tones Ino down a notch.”
He would snort, if he was in a different sort of mood.
“We went to the southeast part of town today,” she continues. “Ino wanted to see a new building they put up. Her mom has a big order of flowers to deliver there later this week.”
Flowers. In the chaos of the night he’s had, lily bulbs fell to the wayside of his mind.
Sasuke carefully takes the first bite of his own food. It’s good, as he expected; a mixture of salmon, tomato, and salted rice, simple enough to hopefully help settle his stomach. He can kind of taste it.
He chews slowly, reverently, alternating between eating and taking small sips of water as she chatters animatedly. “The flower shop's orders are really taking off now. Ino’s usually busiest once May comes. Hopefully things stay peaceful, so she can stay in the village for the most part; her mom can always use the extra help.”
They wash and dry the dishes together, afterwards, a routine that is beginning to feel familiar. She still doesn’t say anything about the cutting board, but Sasuke greatly appreciates the way it feels in his hand when she gives it to him, weighty and with a designated home under her roof. It slides into place easily in the cupboard with the two others.
They read for a while on her couch again, wrapped in their respective blankets; Sakura keeps her apartment fairly cool. It’s cozy in a way that makes his head feel funny, like he could fall asleep in minutes if he really tried, lulled by the soothing scent of berry and cleanliness. He wonders if it would be restful, if he did. Usually once enough time ellipses, well into the next day, his brain cuts him some slack, though it could be that he's just too exhausted from being up most of the night for the neurons to fire up again to such a frenzy.
Sasuke finishes the last chapter of his book sluggishly and contemplates the ending, a lengthy description of the fisherman gripping the solid railings of the dock with both hands as he comes ashore for the first time in months.
When he flicks his gaze to Sakura tiredly, she’s a third of the way through a new book, titled Among the Ruins: Post-War Reflections. It appears to be a memoir; he assumes it must be one she’s purchased, as it doesn’t have the library label. Perhaps it’s new, picked up this morning while she was out, or it could be one from her bookshelves. He would like to peruse the titles she has, sometime. He drowsily wonders which war it’s about.
He takes a careful breath and just revels in it, being here with her, mere feet away with his eyes closed but able to sense her presence, worn out with thoughts that have edges as frayed as he is. He would like to stay for dinner, too. He thinks it’s perhaps becoming implied that they’ll eat together if she doesn’t have other plans, but he doesn’t want to be rude or overstay his welcome.
Sasuke hopes he can stay awake. Maybe he shouldn’t have said no to tea earlier; the additional caffeine might have helped. He could offer to make them both some, he thinks fuzzily, but then he starts wondering if that would be odd or overstepping. It’s her tea, and her kitchen, and her cups.
Then he sleepily remembers the cutting board.
“You can take a nap, you know,” Sakura murmurs kindly, soft words echoing a little in the stillness of her space. “If you’re tired. I don’t mind.”
He blinks his eyes open, vision adjusting as he realizes he nearly dozed off.
She’s smiling from the other end of the couch. “I can make dinner later, and wake you up when it’s ready. You should rest until then.” She pauses, then adds, “I can grab you a better pillow from my room, if you want.”
His brain catches up to his auditory processing, and then his ears warm.
Oh.
The offer is tempting, though he doesn’t want to be rude. If it were any other day, he would force himself to stay awake, to spend more time with her. But it’s not any other day, and he’s drained, enervated in a way that makes him want to give in. He should ask, to make sure it’s okay, but he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t.
“...Here?”
A flush inks its way onto her cheeks as her expression turns thoughtful. “Yes. Or... you can use my bed, if you want.”
Sasuke forces his gaze away from hers, because his face feels extremely warm all of the sudden. “...I meant… here, at your apartment.”
“Oh.” Sakura laughs in a way that sounds nervous; he hears her fiddling with the book in her lap. “I, um… just meant whatever’s most comfortable.”
When he hesitantly looks back to her, she’s red, too.
“...What will you do?”
She gestures with her hand in a waving motion to indicate it's fine. “I can read, or do some laundry or work stuff. It’s no trouble. Really, Sasuke-kun.” Her blush deepens. "...I would like you to stay… And to have dinner later. If you’re free."
He swallows before slowly nodding his acquiesce, and then Sakura is up and heading to her bedroom in a blink of mismatched eyes. Muffled footsteps pad back moments later, a pillow with a lavender pillowcase clutched in her hands.
Her bedding must be a variant of violet, then, a pastel contrast to the black of his own. He is curious about the color of her bedroom walls all over again, but then she’s handing him the pillow, and he’s too tired to continue thinking.
“...Thank you.”
The smile she wears is so soft, treasured. “You’re welcome.”
He’s out within a few minutes of laying his head on the pillow, drowsing eyes barely catching the lamps flickering off one by one as she meanders around her space.
The pillow smells like her, too, cogent in its beckoning. He sleeps like a rock.
XXX
Sakura nudges him awake hours later, leaning forward to rest her upper body against the back of the couch. The scent of miso and roasted tomatoes drifts into his nostrils while lively jade peers down at him. The light coming from her window has dimmed quite a bit. It must be well into the evening; she let him sleep for a while.
“Dinner’s ready,” she murmurs softly, wearing an expression that is incredibly fond.
He stretches slightly as he rises from her sofa, working out a crick in his shoulder and thinking that he feels much more rested. Sasuke is about to head to her kitchen to get his own bowl, until Sakura turns towards the table, and he sees that she's already set out food for both of them, green market light switched on overhead.
There's onigiri, too, and a steaming cup of sencha placed on his side that he's sure is decaffeinated.
His side.
The realization, albeit a good one, disarms him.
He has a side of her table. And a side of her couch.
Sakura recites a story Hinata told her this morning as they eat, about how Naruto initially buried every single flower bulb in their garden beds six inches deep instead of reading the directions, so they had to dig everything up and salvage the instructions on the package from the trash to replant.
“He mixed them all together, too, instead of planting them in sections like a normal person.” She laughs, and his lips turn upwards in shared amusement. “She said she hopes they didn’t miss one. Iris and echinacea can sometimes multiply out of control. She was happy she didn’t add bee balm to the list, too, or they’d really be in trouble; those can grow anywhere, even in gravel.”
The soup and tea feel good on his throat, and the rice is filling in a way that would be difficult to throw up, absorbent of moisture and chunking together to expand in his stomach until he is full, in more ways than one.
He can taste again, the richness of tomato and miso and calming ubiquitous green on his tongue and in his heart, thoughts of flowers and their idiot teammate helping to cast aside his earlier melancholy.
Sasuke loves her so much in that moment that it physically aches, her voice a balm that puts the rawest parts of him at ease.
"Thank you," he says quietly at the conclusion of the meal, grateful in ways he's not sure he'll ever be able to put into words.
Her response is simple, gentle, pure. “You’re welcome.”
As they wash and dry the dishes together in the dim light of her kitchen, Sakura tells him softly, “I put leftovers in containers for you in the fridge. Please take them with you tonight.”
He nods as his eyes sting with appreciation. When he turns to put away the teacups, he blinks to clear them as she wipes down the sink one last time for the evening.
As she sorts through her movie selection afterwards - it’s her turn to pick - he asks, “How is the poison antidote coming?”
Sakura glances at him curiously for a second from where she’s perched on the wood floor, rifling through the lower cabinet. “I think we might have it solved. Blarina toxin from a southern short-tailed shrew, and then possibly lionfish toxin, laced with algal bloom cyanobacteria. The lionfish toxin is part of the trouble; it’s such a trace amount that it was hard to identify, not enough to cause swelling on the exterior body like you’d see if you were stung by one in person. We’re still running tests, but the neutralization seems to be working on the mice so far.” She blanches a little. “Or, rather, the mice we have left. It’s diminished our stocks; shrew venom is particularly deadly to them.”
Sasuke knew it was likely to kill several of them, but not quite to that extent. He’s interested in her work, so he asks, “How many?”
She turns back to sift through her cabinet as she answers, pulling out another movie to examine. “A gland-full of venom is potent enough to kill up to two hundred of them. It’s why it took us longer than usual; we had to give them the absolute tiniest dose in order to not kill them within hours. I guess it makes sense; they’re one of the things they eat in the wild. The dose in the poison sample was high, though, venom from multiple shrews. A single bite usually isn’t enough to do any harm to humans, but when it’s quadrupled in dosage and laced with other things, it’s more severe.”
“...What’s the treatment?”
Sakura rattles off the extremely complex answer as if it’s nothing. “An antihistamine, steroid, botulinum toxin, and an antibiotic. We’re also giving them blood transfusions and flushing out the blood as it comes to the exterior machine, to get rid of the cyanobacteria. Kind of like conventional water treatment… just more complicated. More steps, filtration, and obviously we can’t use chlorine, so it takes longer.”
Sasuke blinks somewhat in awe. She really is so intelligent.
“...That sounds lengthy.”
She shrugs, movie still in hand. “It is. It’s why we’re not one hundred percent sure if we’ve solved it yet; the lionfish venom is still the weak link, and will be until we can see that the other portions of the treatment have worked to isolate it.”
“...I’d like to learn the process.”
A smile plays at her lips and a flush inks its way onto her cheeks. He supposes it was a roundabout sort of compliment; he could have worded it better, but she seems to have understood him anyway. She does about a lot of things, he thinks.
“I can bring home a kit, sometime, and teach you the basics. It could be useful.”
He nods; he would like that.
There is a long pause as Sakura bites her lip before further examining the movie case in her hand.
Then, she asks, a tentative expression on her face and peeking at him to gauge his reaction, “Want to watch a bad one?”
Sasuke wonders if she knows he would watch any movie with her, if it means he gets to be in her company like this, saved from a room with white tiles or dark wood.
“...Sure.”
She wasn't exaggerating; it is truly terrible, riddled with plot holes so nonsensical that it’s almost funny. The acting is bad, too, though perhaps that’s more to blame on the script rather than the actors.
“Even the camera work is awful,” Sakura says at one point, gesturing towards the left side of the screen. “If you look in the background here, there’s an extra that just… walks into the wall.”
He watches, and sure enough, behind the main characters, a girl walks directly into a corner and just stands there.
He snorts, genuinely enthused in a manner he would not have thought possible hours ago. Sakura laughs at the other end of the couch. It’s a sound he could listen to forever, sweet and chiseled into his heart.
They play an extensive round of go afterwards, venturing well into the night with the plinking of small pieces into place. It’s nearly eleven when she finally walks him to her doorway, two containers of tomato miso soup and onigiri in her hands. As he pulls on his shoes, Sakura sets them by his library book on the console table.
“Would you want to read tomorrow afternoon?” She asks as he rises to his full height.
He nods. “...I’ll meet you here.”
Her dimple makes a reappearance. “One fifteen?”
He inclines his head again in agreement, then decides to ask. It’s becoming easier, now that she has said yes so many times.
“Dinner, after?”
Her smile widens. “Of course. I was thinking gyudon. Light on the sugar. You could…” She bites her lip and shifts a bit. “...You could help me cook, if you’d like.”
Something turns over in his belly. “...Okay.”
She glows at him. He swallows once before reaching out to skim her freckle, enjoying the feel of her cheek against the pad of his thumb.
And then her fingers against his fingers, holding him there against her cheek, soft and steady.
Then he leans down, and his lips are on hers, a breath exhaled in unison as her entryway falls away. Her free hand twists around his neck, delicately brushing the fabric and a fraction of his skin in a way that nearly makes him shiver. It’s a long moment of quietus, a finishing stroke to a day that could have gone very differently.
It is also the longest kiss they’ve shared yet, and it is over far too soon.
He’s pulling away to look at her, letting his hand drop away, when she wraps her arms tenderly around him.
He can hardly breathe, taken off guard by the absolute sensation of comfort he’s enveloped in.
She doesn’t say a thing; just hugs him tight, her fingertips spreading across his back and face pressed to his sternum. Berry invades his olfactory senses.
Slowly he lifts his arm to carefully return the hug, swallowing a tender sort of truth, a kind that goes down easy, the evidence and action of her affection. He can feel Sakura’s heartbeat against his chest, a tempo teeming with life.
They stand there together in her entryway for a long time.
XXX
He sleeps wrapped in a clean comforter, and though it’s not for very long, it is dreamless.
He’s eating leftover onigiri when he receives a mission summons, barely past seven in the morning. He finishes his meal and pops a cough drop in his mouth before departing for the Hokage’s office.
It’s a nice day, he thinks as he walks, coming to a decision as he admires vernal greenery lining the streets. The sun is just lifting over the horizon, painting everything pale amber.
“Sasuke,” Kakashi greets as he walks in; he’s the first one there again, apparently. “Good morning.”
“Kakashi.”
Their old sensei smiles at him in the strange all-seeing manner he has. Sasuke notes the presence of a new picture frame present on his desk, replacing the one he’s given him.
He is extremely grateful to have that picture to grip onto in his darker moments. Sasuke considers thanking him then, for Iron, but then Naruto is barreling in noisily.
“Whaizzit?” He yawns raucously, as if he just woke up, sleep still clinging to the corners of his eyes. They are multi-faceted, too, even in their barely aware state, and Sasuke inwardly breathes a sigh of relief, normalcy shifting fully back into place as the door clicks behind his teammate.
Then Naruto registers that Sasuke is present. “Eh? Teme?!” Cerulean scans the room as if he’s searching for something, then he frowns, directing a lengthy glare Kakashi’s way.
“If you've called me here at seven in the fucking morning for anything that isn’t a Team Seven reunion mission, I’m going to lose it.”
Ah. He was looking for Sakura.
“Afraid not,” Kakashi answers cryptically from his desk, and Naruto’s sleepy glare tightens. Then the Hokage smiles, as if something is incredibly amusing. "Guard duty. Kotetsu and Izumo deserve a break. Things are slow this week, and we have the extra numbers.”
The copy ninja skillfully dodges Naruto’s sandal as it flies towards him. “You’ve got to be kidding. You woke me up for this? You could have told me later in the day or something!!”
“Future Hokages don’t receive special treatment, and it’s professional to give more than twenty-four hours notice if possible.”
Naruto grumbles. "All week?"
Kakashi grins. "Tuesday through Friday."
Inwardly, Sasuke twitches.
"I should specify; nine to six, Tuesday through Friday."
Outwardly, Sasuke twitches.
It's not exactly her work schedule for all four days, but it lines up closely enough that it's fairly obvious what Kakashi’s doing.
Naruto barely reacts; just snorts in a way that is caustic, as if he finds the times unsurprising. "Cool. Can I go back to sleep until it’s time to kick teme’s ass now? Hinata-chan and I were cozy."
Sasuke rolls his eyes; when they spar in the mornings, it’s typically between eight and nine. He’ll have around an hour's extra sleep at best, though he supposes he’s not in any position to judge at this point, given his nap on Sakura’s couch yesterday.
Kakashi’s smile widens, mask wrinkling. "Sure. Dismissed."
They both watch on in faint amusement as Naruto stumbles sleepily out of his office, neglecting to collect his missing shoe.
“...Some things never change,” the Hokage murmurs, sighing.
“...No, they don’t.”
“Well, anyways, before you go…” Kakashi turns to him, tapping the pen at his desk absentmindedly. “How are things?”
Sasuke blinks, recalling leftovers and a new cutting board and the feeling of Sakura’s arms around him.
And kissing. Mostly kissing. Probably too much, if his neck’s sudden warmth is anything to go by.
“Good.”
A lone visible eye crinkles at the corners. “Great. Don’t hesitate to let any of us know if you need anything.”
He lets the words hang in the air for an extended few seconds before nodding slowly.
"I was thinking…” Kakashi continues, gaze flicking down to the photograph on his desk. “...Perhaps we could make Team Seven dinners a monthly thing. It would be good, don’t you think?"
“...Yeah.”
A dark eye locks on him again. "Sai could come, too."
Ah.
"...Sure." He really should make an effort to get to know him better. His replacement seems nice enough, peculiar as he is.
"Wonderful. Let's plan on the first Saturday of every month at six, shall we? If we're all in the village, that is. I’ll let him know when I call him in later this morning."
“Okay.”
A long moment passes, then Kakashi is procuring the shoe from the area behind his desk. Sasuke notes that he holds it as far away from him as his arm will allow.
“...I don’t suppose you’d return this, when you see him later?”
Sasuke says nothing.
“...Though I suppose I could assign it as a mission to some Genin.” Then he's sighing, setting it on the farthest edge of Naruto’s work area. “Too bad I just gave an assignment to my last two.”
Shooting him a withering look, Sasuke departs the Hokage’s Office. He gets the distinct feeling as he goes that Kakashi is incredibly pleased with himself, solidified by what he calls after him.
“Tell Sakura I say hi.”
Guard duty is easy in theory, but spending thirty six hours with the dobe may be… a challenge. He supposes if the reward is being able to see Sakura after she works most of those days, he'll take it. He's sure Kakashi won't keep him in the village forever; eventually duty will call him away for extended periods of time.
It solidifies his decision; he should take the opportunity of being here to plant something.
He stops by the market vendor on the northern end to buy two packages of lily bulbs on his way home. The market is fairly slow, so there are few other people around.
The packages feel good in his hand, lighter than he expected.
Sasuke works through a section of one of his other books before Naruto shows up on his doorstep, still appearing for all intents and purposes half asleep. Their spar ends in another draw; luckily there are no cracked bones this time.
He eats more leftovers for lunch after, appreciating the taste.
XXX
Sasuke feels at home in Sakura’s kitchen, cutting scallions easily while she broils beef and prepares the egg mixture for gyudon just a few steps away. The meal comes together quickly between the two of them, savory with a sauce that is heavier on the mirin and sake than the sugar.
Food they prepare together somehow tastes even better. It’s late when they finally sit down to eat dinner, gazing out through glass at the streets below as they take their first bites.
The sauce is perfect; not too sweet.
“...I have guard duty this week,” he mentions after a while.
“With who?” She asks, though her lips twitch upwards.
He rolls his eyes. “...Guess.”
She bites her lip, and he tears his gaze away from her mouth and up to her eyes. The green is filled with mirth, twinkling with illuminated flecks.
“Good luck,” she says sincerely. “What times?”
He glances away, ears warming and wondering if Kakashi has mentioned anything to her about them being… together.
“Tomorrow through Friday, nine to six.”
There is a long pause. When he peeks back at her, she’s blushing.
“...Kakashi-sensei is nosy.” Sakura takes another bite of her food, looking shy for some reason, and suddenly Sasuke is certain that their sensei has said something to her, perhaps on multiple occasions. He wonders what.
“...He is.” He thinks, then adds as an afterthought, “...He says hi.”
They do the dishes together and play two rounds of chess. Sakura wins once, and the second round is another stalemate, though he suspects he was close to beating her.
It’s close to nine by the time they’re putting the board away. As he works on packing up the last of the pieces to store in their allocated compartment, he notices she’s gazing out the window, scanning the sky as if distracted.
The way she’s angled puts the freckle on her cheek in plain view, pale hair loosely tucked behind her ear.
Then she turns to him, pink flooding her complexion, and Sasuke realizes he’s been staring, the remaining few pieces still clutched in his hand, frozen in midair in his distraction. He hastily finishes putting them away as his own face warms. Sakura rises from the table to put the box away, footsteps echoing softly through her living space.
He looks outside quizzically for a moment, embarrassedly trying to will the color away from his face and wondering what she was looking at. It’s a clear evening, calm without a cloud in sight.
"I was wondering if…"
His vision snaps to her expectantly across the room, and her cheeks flush darker; he can see it even though it’s dimly lit, shifting from one foot to the other. She seems nervous.
"If you would maybe want to… go stargazing for a bit tonight?"
His pulse quickens, pushing at the seams of chambers and ventricles in a way that makes it feel like the vines have twisted their way in, taking hold of whatever they can clutch.
She apparently does still like that sort of thing.
And she wants to go with him.
He nods immediately, struck speechless with elation before he manages to form the question, "...Where?"
Her expression is one of relief. "I was thinking just outside the village. There’s…” She looks away, smiles. “There’s a place Ino and I go to sometimes; we went today for a bit, after training. There are wild lilacs blooming right now.” She shifts her gaze to him again. “It's supposed to be a little cooler, but the sky’s clear. We could bring tea in a thermos; I have two."
Heat creeps up his neck as he agrees, heart stammering in his chest a little, because he’s started thinking about it now, and stargazing together is very clearly romantic in nature, amongst flowers even more so.
Sakura brews tea for the both of them as he distracts himself by slicing a lemon for hers. When he glances at her surreptitiously, she’s still blushing, and jade eyes snap away as if this time she’s the one that’s been caught staring. That makes his heart pound, to the extent that he’s glad she’s a few feet away, because it’s so loud that she might hear it.
They meander to the edge of the village as evenfall settles, into the forested area just beyond the gates. As Sasuke trails behind her, divagating through subtly flattened pathways between the trees, his thoughts wander to bygone seasons.
There once was a pond, three quarters of a mile outside of the village, beyond where the Uchiha District used to be. It wasn’t officially a part of their grounds, but it was remote enough that it wasn’t easily happened upon by anyone other than their family, off the beaten path and through thicket and thistle as it was.
Itachi used to take him fishing there.
He thinks they’d gone four or five times in all, but he remembers it well, because he had been terrible at fishing, not a shred of patience. His brother caught most of them, but he would sometimes set the hook before passing off the reel to Sasuke to help him learn. It was quiet, peaceful in the way that only the wilderness is, away from the pressures of expectations. Wildflowers poked up everywhere in the later summer months, situated on a hill towards the far side of the pond. They picked some together for their mother, once; Sasuke clutched them in his hands while they made the trek back to the village, Itachi carrying their bucket of perch and bass.
It was nice in the autumn, too, warm tones flooding everything. One could sit in the swaying overgrowth flush with falling leaves for hours taking it all in and still not see it all, an overwhelmingly pure sense of peace, made heartier by the taste of freshly grilled fish later in the evening.
The walk had seemed like it took forever back then, on short legs looking upward. He’s never returned to that place, not once, since he was eight. It would hurt too much, for different reasons now than when he was twelve.
He remembers passing wild lilacs then, too, on the way there and back. He supposes they probably thrive in the chaparral throughout Fire Country, if one cares to traipse through the foliage to look for them. He stumbled upon many on his journey, just passing through on roads less traveled.
The small clearing Sakura leads them to reminds him of the pond a little, wild and flush with fading hues, framed by fragrant lilacs in bloom as she said, but there are no memories tied to it yet, so it’s better. Huge bushes of them grow unaided here, wispy purple redolence scattered by the wind into the earth's cracks, ushered in by whispers through the trees.
The wilds are not so far from Konoha, really. Like the cherry blossom tree on the hill, it's a good reminder that some things can grow easily even on rougher terrain.
Sasuke sits rather close to her, so they can drink their tea together. The sun slips just below the horizon, a cloudless sky awash in a shifting gradient. He catches jade as he takes a drink, appreciating the taste, a small bit of warmth on a cool night.
The way she’s looking at him makes his heart rate accelerate again, a serene expression that implies there is nothing she would rather be doing right now than be here.
With him.
Eventually stars begin inking into existence overhead one by one, the last bit of sun lingering just on the horizon, a muted blur of violet bleeding into black. Things are slightly clearer here, beyond the boundaries of the village, no glass or light pollution to obscure the retinas.
Once she finishes her tea, Sakura lies down the same way she does on the hill, so he does, too, trying to calm his heart rate, because he is very close to her, just within reach. The forest breathes around them, coating everything in a lilac perfume.
He used to think about her, when he looked to the stars, feeling worlds away and wondering if she thought of him that day. Being next to her is better, revered, the calm din of an evening he has craved for a long time.
When he turns to steal a look, her eyes are already on him, and there is something about that moment, as the last light fades, being here with her, that makes his chest go aflame.
And then Sakura turns slightly, reaching out towards him with her right hand, and he blinks.
She sweeps his hair away from his Rinnegan eye, a thumb gently skimming his cheek as he has hers, before her hand falls away. Though they are cloaked in the gloaming of dusk’s darkness, enough he hopes to hide the warmth that has crept into his face, there is adequate light left to see her expression, so tender, jade eyes desaturated to dark sage.
He feels seen in a way that he hasn’t felt before, recalling soft words in an exam room.
Not me.
The sky is fully lit in short order, beautiful and dark with only a tiny sliver of the moon visible. It is truly lovely, Ursa Major, Leo, and Hydra scattered before them like a painting a million years old, ageless messengers traveling from who knows where, as he did. It took many steps to get here to her, scattered revolutions passing wide arcs around the sun, yearning for a day to close the gap, to feel like he was close to ready.
It was worth every single one.
A question is on the tip of his tongue, so he decides to ask it, to give in to the impulse.
“...Any poems?” He wants to learn the words she likes, what kinds of meaning she applies to things, intelligent as she is. Sasuke imagines the inner workings of Sakura’s mind to be quite complex, teeming with all of the things she’s read, research and fiction and nonfiction. He would like to know her favorite pieces of poetry, what she holds dear in her own heart.
She shifts slightly; he thinks she must be looking at him for a split second.
There is a lengthy silence punctuated by crickets before she finally answers, “A short one,” voice hushed like the breeze around them; if he wasn’t so close to her, he wouldn’t be able to hear.
He shifts his gaze to her on his right, barely able to make out her silhouette in the dark.
“Take notice of what light does - to everything.”
The words sink into him like rain on freshly tilled soil, triggering a bricolage of recollections. Instantly he is reminded of light through the window of his bathroom, stirring him from a pit of self doubt and guilt. Then light through the windows of Sakura’s apartment, cooking and doing the dishes together in her kitchen. A nap, comfortable on her couch as day fades into dusk, lamps switched off for a period of much needed rest. Flowers, grown by a doorstep with the sun’s rays seeping in through diamond patterning. The shadow of a jasmine plant, inked onto her cheekbone, and neon lights reflectant atop pale pink hair.
The intricate stitching of an uchiwa fan, thread catching iridescence as she holds it daintily in her hands as if it is something important, to be cherished.
Her eyes when she is happy, hints of gold flecks, catching like fractals of color atop shifting seafoam.
The way white nerine lilies looked drenched in sunlight, on days that are decidedly not summer monsoons.
Stars are a form of light, too, and despite being far away, they are refulgent in their luminosity, a beauty that cuts through murk and offers much for contemplation; the gaps of darkness between them are what allows people to make meaning out of them, constellations strewn together.
He is home, surrounded by spring. It is something to behold.
“...Did you write letters to Naruto?” Sakura asks after a lengthy period of reflection, so softly that her voice is almost a whisper.
The concept is so ridiculous to him that he would snort, if not for the moment they are sharing right now and the way she asked it, no hint of a joke in her tone.
So he answers seriously, just as quietly. “No.”
There is a long pause.
“...And Kakashi-sensei?”
Ah. He understands what she’s really asking. “...Other than missions, no.”
It’s hard to tell, but he thinks he sees her fingers grip in the grass next to her, gently as if in reflex.
Sasuke tries very hard to swallow his doubts.
When they were on missions as Genin, she used to lay sprawled out like this, hands spread next to her. So did Naruto. It bothered him then, because he liked his folded together on his stomach and he was very particular about personal space, which they both invaded.
Sasuke doesn’t have another hand to fold his with anymore, though, and he’s less concerned about personal space with her than he used to be. The darkness helps bolster his confidence, too, nyctophile that he is; she won’t see the heat that’s spreading to his face here, lit merely by distant flickering stars.
Take notice of what light does - to everything.
The luminaries above them offer only a little of it, yet it's a transfixing sight, something of the epochal and the divine present that he has been drawn to for years.
So he reaches out to skim her hand with his, a tentative sort of constellation in itself, recorded in points of contact and palm prints on the skin rather than etched in alembic light in the sky.
There are soft fingertips, a knuckle gently gliding by. Then she’s interlacing her fingers with his, and suddenly it’s not tentative at all. It’s leal, steady, her small hand in his as if it has always belonged there, the scent of flourishing blooms wafting around them and painting everything in his head lilac starlight.
Her thumb brushes his skin once, twice, thrice, achingly gentle.
He should have reached out sooner, but he supposes they’re young, still. There is a lot of time ahead of them. The stars will align eventually, slow in their revolutions around common centers of mass as he is in letting people in. She accepted his apology for being late already, fine fingertips clutching an uchiwa fan with a touch just as gentle as now.
If he can only hold her hand in the dark, maybe that’s enough for now, a single star he can reach. He hopes he'll reach the others eventually.
Hours pass with her hand in his, and he is a small bit closer in revolution by the time he walks her home.
Lilac and raspberry and starlight coalesce against his lips when they collide with hers, an allegorical perfume he could easily get drunk on. He skims the freckle again, tenderly osculant, and realizes that is the start of a constellation, too, a novitious star burning brighter every time he reaches out. Kissing makes three.
Her hands around his neck make four. This time he does shiver, but he doesn’t pull away.
Sakura’s lips are so soft.
XXX
He plants the lily bulbs shortly after they say good night, under the cover of the caliginous dark that shepherds in the dew of the morning, tiny drops of moisture beginning to collect on nearby blades of grass. The stars are still out, bright enough to be beautiful but dim enough so that he can’t read the names.
Sakura would help him if he asked, he knows, but he doesn’t think he’s quite ready for that yet. He settles for trying to make his touch as gentle yet sure as hers, an elegy of calloused fingers digging carefully through the dirt, grasping and placing lily bulbs one by one. There are four bulbs in total, so he plants two on each side, nine inches apart, allowing them to poke up through the soil slightly and frame the stone; he reread the instructions when he stopped by his apartment earlier. It’s a different brand of corrosion, manually digging up layers of dirt rather than hoping they slough off, but it’s progress, and it doesn't require digging too deep.
There has to be something beneath the layers of sediment, he thinks, to feel the way he does about her. He hopes that what he feels is enough, that his slow revolutions will be worthwhile for her, in the end.
I’m sure it will be lovely, when everything finally comes together.
Being in Konoha is not easy, after everything, but being with Sakura is.
When he’s lying in his own bed a short time later, he recalls the love in her fingertips against his. It lulls him to sleep.
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hawkwhore · 3 years
Note
hi hi hi could i request a hawk imagine where it’s an enemies to lovers kinda thing, so hawk is still in cobra kai and y/n is in miyagi do. basically tori hurts her and he sees her after and gets protective over her, then they get close and kinda secretly date... something like that haha THANK YOUUU <33333
Do Better — Eli Hawk Moskowitz x Female!Reader
HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I literally had an entirely different fic at like 8k words for this before I decided it didn’t fit close enough to the prompt and I just completely started over and this one was even longer than the first so that’s why it took me literal ages LOL.
includes; swearing, fluff, fighting, so much angst
words; 11,394 (im sorry its a whole ass novel)
this takes place late s2, after demetri and hawk’s friendship ends but before eagle fang forms!
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Most of your time in high-school you spent in a bubble, keeping to yourself and just your few friends. You didn’t involve yourself in other people’s crap very often, but when an all-out karate war happened at the end of your junior year, you couldn’t keep lurking in the shadows anymore.
Bullying was becoming heavy at your school, and while you weren’t usually a target, you grew tired of watching other people get hurt. Primarily, by a familiar face to you-- Eli Moskowitz.
Not that you knew him particularly well, but you remembered the shy boy you’d shared classes with, and you always tried your best to be nice to him knowing how others treated him.
You never would’ve thought that now he’d be the bully, destroying the confidence of other kids who were just like him.
“Look at this kid,” He laughed to his friend, Mitch. The two boys were standing in the hall, hovering over a small, scrawny boy who looked terrified. “You wanna be in Cobra Kai? Well, see, we had to be un-flinched first. We can do that for you right now, though. See how much you can take.” He teased, threatening a punch, watching the boy wince at his movement.
When you were in the halls on your way to your next class, you witnessed this horrible incident. You watched for a moment, before deciding that it was time for you to step out of your bubble. “Hey, leave him alone.” You said annoyedly, urging the boys to give it up.
Hawk turned to you and leered, and Mitch pushed the kid against the locker so he wouldn’t move while they dealt with you. “Be careful who you talk to like that, princess.” He moved dangerously close, and despite the feelings of anger you had towards him, your stomach dropped a little at the nickname.
Not letting it affect you, you came back bitterly. “Oh yeah? And who am I talking to, Eli?” His face contorted in disgust at the use of his real name. “You know, it’s sad, how you became everything you used to despise. I remember the other side of you, you were sweet..” You said, smiling to your self in remembrance. “And now look at you.” Looking at him in resentment, you finished.
Turning angrily on his heel at your words, Hawk punched the boy in the face and let him go running. He looked back at you with a look of victory, and Mitch smirked. “You better watch your back.” Hawk said threateningly, and knocked his shoulder into yours as he walked to his class.
Through the rest of the day, Hawk thought about you. He knew who you were; Y/N, the only girl to ever be nice to him during his shier days. He remembered the feeling he got any time you’d talked to him, and also how pretty you looked each time you did.
He had almost forgotten until then, how much he had always admired you. He even wanted to ask you out all that time ago, but now too much has changed. Way too much, clearly, because when the commercial for Miyagi-Do came out, you were quick to join.
It was that interaction with Hawk that really set you off, actually. You wanted to be able to stop the cruelty, and you thought that joining Miyagi-Do for defense would be a good start.
Little did you know, the rivalry would only grow.
As weeks passed, Miyagi-Do gained students and flourished. But in the meanwhile, Cobra Kai only got rougher, angrier, and just.. worse, in general.
You had done your best to avoid fights, (like a true Miyagi-Do would) but on a particularly bad day of yours, you were unlucky enough to find yourself running into Tory outside of school.
Being close friends with Sam, you knew to stay clear of Tory after hearing what she did to her. You thought Tory was a vile human being, though, and if she were to start anything-- she was probably the one person you wouldn’t hesitate to absolutely destroy.
When on your way to the dojo, you took a pit stop at a convenience store to pick up some snacks since you had some time to kill between after school and when practice started. You were met with an unpleasant surprise on your way out, when you saw Tory approaching the store.
The two of you made eye contact as you crossed paths, and you decided to ignore her and keep walking. Until, as you walked past each other, Tory stuck out her leg and tripped you over the concrete pathway.
“Are you kidding me, bitch?” You pushed yourself up, scoffing at her, and she smiled maniacally. “What’d you just call me?” She teased, obviously looking for a fight.
As much as you wanted to stay calm, you were pushed over the edge. “You heard me, bitch.” You repeated, letting her know you were not afraid. “What’s your problem? I keep away from you and you just can’t help yourself from starting something. I’ve never even done anything to you.” You confronted Tory, looking for an explanation for her behavior.
It was true, you’d hardly ever interacted with her-- but since you’re in Miyagi-Do and friends with Sam, she just didn’t like you. And Tory being Tory, if she didn’t like someone, she was going to be a bitch about it.
She laughed at your attempt to reason with her, and looked at you in self-satisfaction. “I just think it’d be fun to watch you bleed.” She seemed proud at the insult, stepping forward threateningly-- but you thought it was pretty lame.
Clearly, she had no real answer for the questions you asked her. She was far gone in her own world, using only anger to dictate her decisions.
You had let out a disappointed sigh, shaking your head, and turned to simply leave the situation, remembering that it wasn’t worth it. But Tory had other plans.
She grabbed your wrist, twisting it painfully forcing your body to face her. You quickly rotated it to release yourself from her grip, and punched her in the face with your newly freed hand.
“Leave me alone, Tory. This fighting for no reason crap is bullshit.” You said, stepping out of her proximity and holding your fists up in case of needed defense. Tory felt blood trickle from her nose, and as she wiped it from her face, she threw you a sickening sneer.
Seemingly avid on letting her rage out on you, she only continued. “You’re pathetic.” She cackled, taking a swing at you. You blocked this, but the movement left an opening for her to then kick your stomach, which sent you to the ground.
Before you could manage to get up again, she was hovering over you, punching your face repeatedly. It wasn’t until the pain was sinking in that you finally gained enough power to push her off, rolling forward and pinning her down tightly.
You grabbed a fistful of her hair, turning her face towards the ground. “Give it up, Tory.” She stayed quiet, breathing heavily, until she used her remaining strength to free her arm and dig her elbow into your side.
You fell back at this, and you were now both sat on the ground, mere inches from each other. “Seriously, I mean what’s the point? What are you gaining from this besides a couple of bruises?” You stood up, asking again.
You genuinely wanted to know, what could make a person so heartless. You had done nothing to provoke her, yet she was so intent on hurting you. Your question had unfortunately only sparked her rage again, the way you acted so ‘above it all,’ in Tory’s mind made her only angrier.
She rose, charging towards you for another strike, when the owner of the convenience store came out. “What the hell is this? Do I need to call the police?” The man asked. He had caught you in the blocking position of Tory’s attack, and she bitterly pushed herself off of you.
“You got lucky.” She spat, walking back towards the store she was originally on her way into. “Think about it, Tory! Why?” You yelled as she walked away, wanting your final words to sink into her.
You assured the owner that you were fine, and that he didn’t need to get the cops involved. You took out your phone and checked your complexion in the front camera, cringing seeing the cuts and bruises from Tory’s punches all over your face.
But remembering the bloody nose you had given her in your first punch, you smiled to yourself. Looking at your phone’s clock, you had certainly killed the time, but much more than you had wanted to. You were going to be late, so you texted Sam, alerting her that you got in a fight (sparing the details for later,) and that you would be late to practice.
You figured you could just clean up your cuts when you got home, it wasn’t a big deal, probably. But on your walk to the dojo, a passing car slowed at the sight of you. You started walking faster, instantly assuming the worst, but when the window rolled down, you heard a familiar, extremely unpleasant voice. Hawk.
“On your way to practice, huh? Still no car?” He taunted, knowing you still hadn’t saved up enough to buy your own. You glanced at him and rolled your eyes, continuing to walk down the sidewalk. How many enemies were you going to bump into today?
That was when he noticed your face. “Jesus, Y/N, what happened to you?” He laughed, fully stopping the car. You halted and responded annoyedly, “Tory happened. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late.” Turning back towards the walkway, you continued down the street.
But before you could get far, Hawk had gotten out of his car and caught up to you. “You’re not seriously headed to the dojo like that are you?” He said confusedly, trying to keep up with your pace.
You looked at him like his question was stupid, and continued walking. At your ignoring of him, he pushed his point further. “You need to clean those cuts.” He said, still following close behind you as you walked.
“Since when do you care?” You said irritated, continuing to disregard the boy’s words. At this, he finally stopped following. “You know what, fine.” He stood, speaking sharply, and you looked at him curiously at his abruptness. “Just trying to help, or, be nice or whatever.” He muttered aggravatedly, raising his hands in mocking surrender at your attitude.
You had ignored his concerns, because quite honestly you didn’t believe he was actually concerned. You had assumed it was some sort of set up for a new insult, or a way to just mess up your face even more.
“Oh yeah? That’s pretty unusual for you, isn’t it?” You said rudely, engaging back in the conversation. Hawk pursed his lips together and shifted uncomfortably.
You didn’t know it, but Hawk still cared about you. He may have changed, but his feelings for you hadn’t— as much as he tried to get them to. And right now, seeing you hurt, and since there was nobody around to judge him for it, he wanted to help you.
“Look, I’ve got some first aid stuff in my car. Let me help.” He stayed where he was, not wanting to provoke you, and spoke softly, nudging his head towards his car.
You narrowed your eyes looking at him, feeling skeptical of accepting the invitation. He noticed your hesitation, but did not back down, looking at you expectantly for an answer.
You let out an exasperated sigh, and walked towards his car without saying a word. Continuing to argue with him about it seemed like a waste of time to you at this point.
Hawk smiled to himself in relief that you gave in. Hurrying after you, he retrieved the first aid kit from the trunk of his car and ran to open the passenger seat door.
“You wanna sit?” He pointed at the seat, motioning you to take it. You dropped your bag and got in the car, still glaring at Hawk.
He seemed sincere in his intentions, but you really just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Who knows what he could really be planning?
As you took your seat, you reached out to take the kit from Hawk’s grasp. “Hold on,” he said, moving the box away from your reach.
You gave him a bothered look, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. “Have you ever even done this before?” He said, referring to cleaning up after a fight.
“No?” You shrugged, “It can’t be that hard.” You said impatiently, reaching for the box again. “Can you please just let me do it? I’ll show you how for next time.” He practically pleaded, wanting to make sure it was done right so you healed properly.
You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to him, but you were tired of going back and forth with him. “Whatever, just make it quick. I’ll miss all of karate class at this rate.” You complained, moving closer to the edge of the seat so Hawk could reach you.
The height of his car made you two the same height, so Hawk was face to face with you as you were seated. “Hmm, miss a Miyagi-Do lesson? I don’t see the problem.” He joked, almost making light of their rivalry.
You smiled lightly at that, playfully rolling your eyes, but not saying anything. He stood close enough to examine your face, and it was close enough to make you both nervous.
It was silent as he opened the kit and started to clean your cuts, but you broke it to ask a question that was burning in you. “Why are you doing this?”
He looked at you for a second, looking reluctant to answer your question. “What do you mean?” He dodged, continuing to tend to your bruises.
You laughed, knowing full well he knew what you meant, but deciding to answer him anyway. “Why are you helping me? We aren’t friends.” You said plainly, making sure to keep your face still.
“I don’t know, you just obviously needed it.” He brushed off the seriousness of the question, starting to dab the cloth over your lip so you couldn’t talk.
You pushed his hand away lightly. “That’s hardly an answer. You’d never help a Miyagi-Do, so why?” You snapped, not letting his hand near your face again until he answered.
He finally took a step back, and stared at you looking defeated. “You’re the only one who was ever nice to me. Before.. this.” He pointed to his hair, referring to the era of The Hawk.
You crossed your arms skeptically. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” You asked expectantly, and he rolled his eyes. “Demetri’s different, okay? He betrayed me. But you..”
He trailed off, struggling to maintain eye contact with you. “You were never anything but good to me. You deserve better.” He said, and your heart both stung and fluttered at once, trying to figure out what was going on with him.
You wondered if his actions were truly coming from a place of sincerity. It was very unlike him to be anything but an asshole, so hearing something like that come out of his mouth really made you think.
He tried to ignore the sentiment he had just said by walking back towards you and starting to tend to your wounds again, but you only pushed him back for a second time.
“I don’t understand what happened to you.” You said sadly, examining the way he stood. “I changed.” He said monotonously, trying to avoid matching your energy of seriousness.
His hot-and-cold temper was starting to annoy you, the way he would open up just to close right back down again.
“Yeah, and not for the better. Are you even happy?” You said, frustrated, looking at him hard. His face turned sour.
“More than I was before!” He yelled, stepping towards you threateningly. You were taken aback at his outburst, suddenly feeling small as he grew angrier. “My life was hell, remember?” His voice cracked, and he tried to calm himself as he saw the way you leaned back into your seat uncomfortably.
“Look, I’m sorry for keeping you, I probably cleaned you up enough so... just go.” He said softly, sounding regretful as he moved out of the way so you could get out of the car.
You furrowed your brows in confusion. You felt completely clueless on how he was feeling, and you didn’t want to leave it like this. “Hawk-“, you started, but he cut you off. “No, just go.” He pointed away. “I was stupid to think I’d get a second chance with you.” He muttered to himself, turning to walk around to the drivers seat of his car.
“Wh— second chance? What do you mean?” You shouted after him and hopped off the seat, grabbing his arm before he could get too far.
At your tug of his arm, he looked back at you with the most intense feeling in his eyes. Not wanting to use his words anymore, Hawk turned to grab your wrist from the hand that was already resting on his arm, and pulled you against him.
Hawk smashed his lips onto yours, holding you loosely in fear of your rejection. You weren’t expecting it, but you didn’t pull away. Your kiss continued and you subconsciously shuffled backwards, now being able to lean against the side of the car as he grew more passionate in his movements.
Being with him like this felt amazing, but it was confusing, too-- you had to pull away and clear up this situation.
Finally letting each other go, Hawk looked at you with glossy eyes. You had no idea where all of this came from or what to say, so you were silent as you waited for him to explain.
He knew what you were waiting for, and sighed deeply before expressing how he felt. “I just feel like after everything, I owe you my best.” Hawk said quietly, and you waited for him to go on, having not yet made up your mind on the whole situation.
You enjoyed the kiss, yes-- but you didn’t understand why it had happened, and that was something you needed to know before anything could proceed further. Hawk was a jerk, and he was going to have a lot of explaining to do for you to suddenly be able to forget that.
He moved even closer, and reached his hand out to brush your hair away from your face. “And I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He whispered, ghosting his fingers across the bruises on your face.
You felt a shiver down your spine as he touched you, closing your eyes in the moment. “And,” he pulled away from you, his voice changing to a more regular tone again, “I don’t ever want to be the reason you feel pain. Not after all those times you helped me escape mine.” He said, reaching out to hold your hand, as he referred to how you were there for him so long ago.
Pure concern and care for Hawk overtook you as the words left his lips, and you had never felt so conflicted in your life. It made sense to you now why he would often avoid you, whereas others he’d make it his mission to pick fights with.
He had just admitted to caring about you, and that he never wanted to be at fault for your hurt. He had a reputation to uphold, but he really did have a soft spot for you that never went away.
You felt like you were talking to Eli again, as though the sweet boy he once was had never left, but you also knew that once this moment was over, he’d go back to his corrupt ways again. And that terrified you.
All these new feelings for Hawk were rising in you, but how could you act on them when he was supposed to be your enemy?
He studied your expression, waiting for you to say something. He felt more confident now, seeing as you kissed him back, but he was still nervous for whatever you were about to say.
“What do we do?” You spoke shakily, your expression timid and lost. He caressed his thumb over your hand, noticing your own nerves. “What do you mean?” He asked, not expecting that to be your first question.
“I’ve always cared about you and you know that, but then you go through all these changes and become a total dick, and now you kiss me and tell me how you care too.” You say awkwardly, trying to point out the weirdness of the situation. “I’m confused, Hawk, and afraid. We can’t be together when everything about our lives will keep us apart.” You whimpered, scattering your eye contact.
His heart leapt at the mention of you two being together, but frowned once registering the context of the words. He suddenly felt guilty, seeing how distressed you were. Maybe he shouldn’t have done this, he thought.
But it was too late now, and as he released your hand to move forward and hold you, he never wanted to let go.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your ear. He knew his recent actions since joining Cobra Kai weren’t exactly admirable-- he knew he should do better. But it was hard; and all he could muster right now, was an apology.
There was a lot to process in such a short moment of time, and you felt overwhelmed. You felt comforted and safe as he held you, but at the same time you felt wrong for feeling that way.
Maybe he was trying to do right by you, but would that be enough if he continued to act terribly when everyone else was around? You needed some time to think. “I should go.” You pulled away from his grasp, trying to be gentle even though your exit was abrupt.
“Oh,” he nodded, watching as you picked up your karate bag. “I just don’t want everyone at the dojo to worry.” You said, trying to rid the conversation of its tension.
He was trying to play it cool, but he was screaming on the inside, terrified that once you left you would never talk to him again. “Just promise you’ll fix that when you get home.” Referring to your still-slightly-messed-up face, he urged you, unable to refrain from making sure you took care of yourself.
You smiled sadly and nodded in response, feeling awkward about everything as you turned to walk back on your route towards the dojo. “And um,” You looked back at him once more. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” You said, assuming he wouldn’t want his Cobra Kai friends to find out he had kissed a Miyagi-Do.
His heart broke when you said this-- you basically thought he was ashamed of you? In a way you were right, he didn’t want them to know. But the guilt that spread across his face at your words, showed how badly he wanted to tell everyone just how much he liked you.
Clearing his throat, he tried to pull himself together again. “Right, yeah. See you.” He said, and watched you for a moment as you walked away.
Getting back into his car, he fought the emotions threatening to spill out, and pushed them away as he headed home. He couldn’t stop thinking about his next move, and what would happen next time he saw you.
Obviously the first thing he would want to do is kiss you, and hold you, and touch you.. but he knew that instead he would likely end up being encouraged by his friends to attack you in some way.
He couldn’t just say, ‘back off guys, she’s cool, i like her now.’ because that would definitely earn him a beating and a seat at the rejects table. He had been fighting these feelings for so long because of this exact reason, and he was pissed at himself that he couldn’t have just kept it under control for longer.
It would have been easier for him, and you. Even you were worrying as you walked to practice about what you were going to do when you saw him again. Your friends may be more forgiving than Hawk’s, but you doubted they’d be particularly thrilled about any of this news.
They would surely tell you to be careful, not to trust him, that it was just a game to find a weakness in you. These doubts inflicted your mind constantly, and it sucked that you had to figure all of it out on your own.
You were a half-hour late to karate when you arrived, and luckily Sensei Larusso had the tools to heal the remaining injuries on your face. You explained what happened with Tory, but you didn’t tell them about Hawk.
Your classmates were angry, Sam especially, and you were too. But after everything, you knew nobody in Cobra Kai was really in their right mind. Tory was an out of control girl with aggression issues, and Hawk was constantly battling a feeling of pressure and pent-up rage.
The worst thing about being in Miyagi-Do, was knowing the right way to go, and knowing that the right way was going to be a long, slow, and difficult process. It was a waiting game at this point-- how many fights would it take for the Cobra Kai kids to realize that wasn’t what they needed to do?
How much pain would they all have to endure, to realize there were better ways to solve their problems? You had only hoped that Hawk taking this step towards you was a step in the right direction-- and that maybe the rest of the Cobras would soon follow.
But until then, it was a secret. And the next few times you saw Hawk were an extreme struggle for the both of you.
Each passing day that you’d make eye contact at school, you’d both immediately look away. Neither of you had spoken or even texted since the kiss, and you were both failing miserably at proper communication.
At first, you thought that maybe the whole thing had been a mistake, and maybe it should just be left alone. But recalling everything Hawk said to you that day, you couldn’t ignore how real it felt. You wanted to be with him, but you had no clue how to go about that.
You were waiting for Hawk to make the next move, but to Hawk-- the ball was in your court. You had left him there, with no definite answer on how you felt about it, and never got back to him since. It seemed to him like you wanted to forget about it, so when one of Moon’s parties rolled around that weekend, he decided to forget about it too.
You were coming to the party, but got there late; and what a wonderful sight it was for the first thing to see as you walk in be Hawk, face inches away from another girl’s, flirting the night away.
Of course, you thought, feeling disgusted at what was in front of you. Of course everything he said was bullshit. You couldn’t figure out for the life of you what his goal was in pretending to care for you, especially when he got basically nothing out of it except a stupid kiss he could’ve gotten from anyone-- but clearly none of it was as real as you thought it was.
It’d been a few days, sure, but you thought maybe tonight you’d finally just talk to him. You watched as the girl played with the string of Hawk’s hoodie, and feeling a pang of jealousy you decided to walk by them, making sure your presence was known.
It definitely worked, because at the notice of your movements he excused himself from the conversation and followed you out towards the pool, where you had gone to get away from the sight of Hawk and the girl.
“Hey.” He whispered, as you poured yourself a drink. “Hi.” You replied boredly with your back turned to him, not exactly feeling excited to have a conversation with him.
He looked around, scoping out who may be listening, but luckily the only others outside were heavily invested in the drinking game going on at the other side of the patio.
Hawk could tell you were bothered about the girl, but didn’t understand why, since you had so obviously been avoiding him.
“Can we talk?” He asked, still being cautious as to not attract any attention. “Go ahead.” You were being difficult, but quite frankly you thought he deserved it. He made you spend days analyzing what had happened between you, only for him to move on from it after a few days?
He stomped closer, and you looked up at him. “You know we can’t talk here.” He nodded his head towards the back of the yard, hoping you’d go with him somewhere private.
You scoffed, and looked at the spot doubtfully. You were upset, but still curious to hear what he had to say. “Fine.” You rolled your eyes, feeling disappointed in yourself for giving in, but you couldn’t pretend you weren’t dying to know what the hell he was thinking.
Hawk walked eagerly to the secluded part of Moon’s property, hoping to get some clarity from you. But before Hawk could say anything, your anger got the best of you.
“So what the hell is your problem?” You started, as soon as you knew you were out of earshot from the rest of the party. Hawk looked taken aback, his eyebrows immediately coming together. “Me? What are you talking about?” He said, offended.
You looked at him in disbelief, mouth dropping open slightly. “Are you joking? Are we going to pretend you weren’t just about to make out with that girl in there?” You said, feeling a twinge of hurt from your own words.
His face knotted in confusion and annoyance. “Seriously? You’re jealous right now? After I confessed everything to you, and you avoided me for days afterwards, I was just supposed to think you actually wanted me?” He tried to keep his voice down, but his emotions were getting the better of him.
“What? I just needed some time to think! It’s not like you bothered to text me either!” You whisper-shouted, now feeling like you were missing something.
“Well when you kiss someone and they basically run away from you, who’s responsibility do you think it is to reach out after?!” He threw his arms up in bafflement, looking at you expectantly.
Your face fell to a look of guilt, and eventually his did too. Suddenly you both felt like idiots at how far you jumped to conclusions.
“I was gonna talk to you today. But when I saw you in there with that girl, all these insecurities just came over me. I thought everything you said was just some Cobra prank and it never meant anything.” Your face drooped, feeling a little embarrassed to admit any of this.
His eyes saddened, and he shook his head. “And I just thought you hated me, and that no matter what I said it’d never be enough for you to forgive me.” He explained his own worry, and your eyes started to water at his words.
Feeling overwhelmed after finally being able to piece together what had been going on this whole time, you sprung into his arms, hugging him tightly. You both stayed embraced, enjoying the feeling of comfort from each other once again, until you finally felt strong enough to pull yourself away.
He kept a hand around your head, as though cradling something delicate. “I meant everything I said that day. It’s not a scheme. I want to be with you.” He told you, proving your suspicions wrong.
You smiled weakly, feeling warm at his confession, but nervous for what’s to come. “I’m sorry I never texted you, but I just don’t get how we’re going to do this.” You said, unconvinced. “We can’t tell anyone, and despite whatever we have, there are a lot more reasons why we won’t work than will.” You look away, your mood of happiness faltering at the idea of being realistic.
“I mean, you know I like you Hawk. And maybe it’s different for us, but, I can’t exactly support the way you treat other people.” You say reluctantly, trying not to sound rude. Hawk gulped, looking down shamefully.
Not wanting to think realistically right now, he ignored what you said and pulled you closer. “We’ll figure it out.” He said sweetly, and moved his hand to lift your chin, kissing you tenderly. As nervous as you were about all of it, the way he kissed you somehow seemed to make all your worries disappear.
Just then as your lips met, sirens went off nearby. “Shit, cops?” Hawk said, breaking apart from you. You giggled at the unfortunate turn of events. “You go that way,” you pointed him in the opposite direction of where you were planning to exit, not wanting others to notice you were together. “See you around.” You said playfully, and he caught on to your plan.
Before he could give you a final peck or even say goodbye, you were gone around the corner of the house, and he wondered longingly when he’d finally be able to kiss you again.
The next couple days at school you’d both done your best to avoid looking suspicious with each other. There were many stolen glances, and lots of private texts, but you both somehow managed to keep whatever fling you two had completely under wraps.
Though you had been initially uncomfortable with the whole secret-dating-thing, you eventually gave up on worrying about what would happen if others found out. You were happy, and having a lot of fun sneaking around with Hawk.
You noticed he had even toned down some of his bullying, and your heart felt full at the thought that he might have done that for you. Of course, there were always a few ‘slip-ups’.. but he made sure you weren’t around to see those.
Even if it was difficult, it was thrilling in a way-- having make-out sessions in his car when no one was around to see, and slipping in through each others’ windows at night to see each other... 
It was fun, pretending to hate each other by day, and then not being able to stay away from each other by night. It felt like the whole school was being pranked, and you two were the only ones in on it.
It had been a few weeks now since you admitted to liking each other at Moon’s party, and you were now headed to the sports shed near the soccer field where Hawk had asked you to meet him after school.
You’d came here and gotten a little wild with him twice before, so at the invitation you fully expected to be met with an aggressive Hawk, ready to hook up. But instead when you opened the shed door, he was standing shyly and gave you the sweetest smile.
“Hey,” he said, taking a small step forward to meet where you were standing. “Hi, baby,” you grinned and kissed him chastely, taking note of the more innocent energy coming from him today.
He wrapped his arms around you, his eyes examining your face adoringly. “Um,” he said, radiating nervousness and backing up slightly. “What’s up?” You smiled at him curiously, taking his hands in yours.
After only a moment, he released his hands from your hold, and you suddenly felt concerned. Why was he acting so weird? You watched confusedly as he fiddled with the inside pocket of his jacket, not saying a word.
Pulling out a small box, he opened it to reveal a simple but beautiful silver necklace. “Hawk!” You gasped, looking at it in awe. He felt more confident at your reaction, and felt safe to say something again.
“I thought that, since we always have to act around each other, you could wear it as a reminder of how we really feel.” He said, searching your expression for some sort of approval.
You stared at him in admiration, not yet able to find the words to respond. “It’s simple, so nobody will think it means anything, but, we’ll know.” He spoke again, hoping for it to grant a response from you this time.
Your face began to bloom with happiness. Taking the box from his hands, you kissed him passionately. “I love it. Can you put it on me?” You asked cheerfully, and Hawk smiled brightly. “Yeah,” he nodded excitedly, turning you around.
You did your best to move your hair out of the way, and Hawk gently pushed the few stray strands to the side. Feeling his fingers brush across your skin, you breathed heavily. You could feel his own breath hot on your neck, as he clasped the two ends of the jewelry together.
With your back still against his torso, he placed his hands around your waist, starting to leave soft kisses against your ear, and down towards your collarbone.
You closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling, until the door of the shed barged open. You stumbled away from each other in shock, and looked to see Tory standing in front of the both of you.
“I knew it! What the hell is this, Hawk?” She screamed, prowling towards you. Feeling completely unprepared from the utter suddenness of the situation, you stepped back in fear. “What are you doing here!?” Hawk shouted, ignoring Tory’s question as he blocked her path from getting to you.
She sneered at the both of you, stopping as she noticed his protectiveness over you. “I’ve noticed how you sneak off at the end of school. I finally decided to follow you here.” She said matter-of-factly, giving you a glare.
“So what is she, Hawk? Your girlfriend?” She taunted, starting to circle you. Out of everything she’d said so far, that was the thing that actually made you the most nervous. You hadn’t actually used that word before... ‘girlfriend,’ you hadn’t really made it official, despite how much it felt like you already had.
You weren’t sure how Hawk would react now that he was caught, but you desperately hoped he would say, ‘Yes, she is, and I love her.’ But that was nowhere close, to what he said.
“What? No! We’re just having some fun, alright? It doesn’t mean anything.” He forced a laugh, stepping away from you. Your heart ached. This is what you were afraid of. You knew it was probably for the best for him to have said that, but you couldn’t ignore the hurt you felt when you heard him say it.
You wished he would’ve right then and there just admitted it, stood up for himself, and chosen you. He could’ve just told the truth, and left Cobra Kai, and been with you. But you weren’t enough. He had a reputation to uphold.
“Oh, really.” Tory scoffed, barely believing his lie as she looked between the two of you. “You can have fun with anyone, Hawk, and you a choose a Miyagi-Do?” She spat, staring him down, and his usually-confident demeanor diminished instantly. “Break it off, or I tell everyone.”
Storming off, her threat lingered in the air as the two of you stood alone, unable to meet each other’s gazes.
“Maybe we should just end this, Y/N.” Hawk spoke meekly, finally breaking the silence. Your eyes widened in horror, forcing yourself to look up at him. “What?” You said, your voice faltering. “So that’s just it then?”
Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes again as he met your stare. “We don’t have any other choice!” He shouted angrily, getting in your face. Your mouth fell agape at the way he was acting, your expression hardening.
“Yes, we DO!” You shouted back, and sobs started to escape you. You of course meant the choice being he stands up to the Cobras, and fights for your relationship. You understood his dilemma in the beginning, but at this point none of it seemed worth it to you anymore.
His eyes were fixated on you intensely, and his mind was running a mile a minute trying to figure out what to do.
“You can easily stand up to them, the Cobras! You’re stronger than all of them combined. Why won’t you fight for us?” You cried, searching for any sign in his face that showed he regretted his words. He had never said so, but you could tell the only thing holding him back was the fear of the Cobras’ reactions.
His insides scrambled with guilt watching you cry. But he had to stay strong. Unaffected, unfazed, completely unbothered. That’s how he forced his expression to appear as he turned and left the shed, leaving you alone and in pain as you watched your worst fear come true.
“Hawk!” You yelled after him, but he only kept walking. “What happened to never wanting to be the reason I felt pain?” Your voice cracked, and you wiped your tears from your face, giving up.
Your words cut into Hawk like a knife. If even possible, Hawk was hurting more than you. Each step he took farther away from where you stood, he felt his heart scatter into another piece. He wished things could be different, too-- but you were too much of a risk.
Cobra Kai may be a large reason for his troubles, but it was also the only reason he was still on top. He wanted you so bad, but he was too afraid to let go of everything else just to have you.
It was safer this way, he told himself. If nobody knew, you’d be safer. You wouldn’t have to be involved in the drama that would come from it, you wouldn’t have another reason for the Cobras to come after you, and you wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.
Hawk repeated these things to himself over and over to make himself feel better about the way things ended. But no matter what he told himself, it was never enough for him to fully believe that he made the right choice.
Feeling helpless, you called the only person you thought might understand. “D-Demetri?” You spoke into the phone, taking a gasp for air between sobs.
“Y/N? Are you ok?” He answered, sounding worried. “I need to talk to you, can you-” You paused, trying to catch your breath. “Can you come get me?” You were nervous he wouldn’t be able to, but you needed someone in person, not over text.
You and Demetri weren’t particularly besties, so for you to call him out of the blue, crying, was extremely worrisome to him. “Uh, yeah, okay sure. I only just left so I can turn back.”
Letting out a shaky breath of relief, you thanked Demetri and hung up, walking out of the shed and towards the front of the school to where he would be meeting you. Hawk was supposed to be your ride home, but clearly that was no longer an option.
When Demetri arrived, he didn’t wait for you to get in the car, he immediately got out and walked over to you. “What happened?” He said cautiously, becoming nervous about having to deal with others’ emotions.
He was never particularly great at consolation, being the awkward and blunt person he is-- and he really didn’t want to make things worse for you.
“It’s Eli,” You said, trying to hold back your tears. “I did something really stupid.” Your lip quivered, feeling embarrassed talking about it. You weren’t supposed to tell anyone about you and Hawk, but at this point, you had nothing left to lose.
Demetri looked at you confused. “What do you mean?” To his knowledge, you and Hawk barely conversed, and there should be absolutely no reason whatsoever for you to be crying over him.
The closer you got to explaining it, the harder it got to contain your emotions. Despite knowing Demetri wasn’t very keen on hugs, you ran into him, desperate for the feeling of comfort.
At this point, Demetri’s level of concern was on the rise. Why on earth would you hug him? That’s never happened before. “I just thought you’d be the only one who would understand... if I told someone.” You spoke, words slightly muffled as you were pressed into his chest.
Reluctantly, Demetri accepted your hug and rested his arms around you. “Okay, Y/N, you’re scaring me. What did he do?” He asked, looking down at you.
Gaining the courage to explain yourself, to Demetri’s relief you let go of him and steadied your breathing. “A few weeks ago.. Hawk and I kissed.” You said hesitantly, preparing for the worst.
“What?” Demetri’s face scrunched into the most confused and offended look you’d ever seen him wear. “I know, okay, just wait.” You told him, hoping he would hear you out.
“I thought it was just a stupid mistake, or something?” You began, recalling the uncertainty you felt when it first happened. “But then he said all this stuff about how much he cared about me, and it turns out we actually have something real.”
Aware of the weirdness of what you were saying, you looked to see how Demetri was handling it. He showed a look of understanding, but you could tell he was simply masking the discomfort he was truly feeling. “It was really confusing at first, but then we started secretly dating.. because we knew everyone would flip if they found out.” You continued, the awkwardness worsening with each sentence spoken.
Demetri’s eyebrows rose. “Dating?” You visibly cringed at the reaction, but carried on with your story. “And he even started being nicer to people!” You mentioned, hoping to make the situation seem like you weren’t a complete idiot for allowing it to happen. “Because, I told him I didn’t think I could be with him-- with the way he treats people, you know? And things were actually going well until today--”
You took a moment, preparing the end of your explanation in the hopes you wouldn’t start to cry through it. Demetri looked at you impatiently.
“When Tory found us together and threatened to tell everyone about us if we didn’t break it off, and then Hawk just left me there and said that we should end things because he’s a coward and can’t do what’s right because HE WANTS TO LOOK COOL.” You shouted, running through the sentences fast and furiously. Instead of getting sad like you thought you would, you got angry. Ah yes, another stage of grief.
Demetri looked slightly scared of you at your sudden tantrum, but having heard your story, he did understand what you were feeling-- because in a way, it had happened to him too. This time, it was him who reached out to hug you, and you appreciated him for it. Hugs always seemed to make you feel calm.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know how it feels. He’s stuck right now, but we can’t give up, okay? He’ll come around.” He said honestly, awkwardly patting your back. You laughed a tiny bit, seeing Demetri trying to console, but you were grateful for his presence.
You released each other from the hug, and you wiped any leftover tears off of your face. “Thanks, Demetri.” You said, smiling sweetly. He nodded, placing his hand on your arm in reassurance, and motioned for you to follow to his car.
The ride back to your house was quiet, but your thoughts were busy and loud. That’s how things were for awhile after that day. You kept to yourself again, and though you tried to look alive, you felt like you had retreated back inside the bubble you worked so hard to get out of.
You went to school, you went to karate, you did whatever responsibilities you had to do-- but for the rest of your free time, you spent it alone in your room, wondering what it would take for Hawk to come back to you.
It was unhealthy, really, how you would wait everyday for a sign of acknowledgement from Hawk, and decline any other social invitation because you never got one.
You even wore the necklace, everyday, in hopes that he’d notice and remember how much you meant to him. But it never worked. He never came back.
You got away with the isolation for awhile, but people were starting to notice how you’ve been pulling away. At least you had Demetri to cover for you once and awhile, to help keep up the facade that you were okay.
Because, you weren’t. You wondered if Hawk was, though. He certainly seemed like he was okay, but he couldn’t be. For your own peace of mind, you had to think he couldn’t be. To think that he was doing just fine while you were spending your days miserable, wouldn’t be fair.
He’s stuck right now, but he’ll come around. Demetri’s words echoed in your head, wondering if they were even true. Would he ever really come around? Is he in too deep? The thoughts scared you beyond belief, but as more days passed, the more you believed them.
You eventually forced yourself to stop caring. To stop thinking about it, and to just give it up. You’d spent too long waiting for him, and you were done letting his actions control your happiness. Although there was a part of you that could never really stop caring, you convinced yourself that it was gone.
After a few weeks, you stopped wearing the necklace. When you showed up to school without it on, it was the first time Hawk had noticeably looked at you since the breakup. He always avoided your eye contact, but that day he locked them onto yours as you passed him in the hall. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your neck, and you could see the glum look all over his face.
As much as you wanted to give in to the hope that he missed you, you ignored it. You weren’t going to let any of those thoughts in again-- not when you already worked so hard to let go of them.
Hawk watched you make your way through the corridors, hardly caring who noticed. While you may have had the ability to attempt to move on, he didn’t. It was his fault any of this happened after all, and it was completely up to him whether or not he could fix things between you.
The pressure of knowing he was the only reason for your and his despair was agonizing, and with the necklace no longer around your neck, he realized he was running out of time.
Time is what he thought he had, to turn things around for himself, and you. But his window was closing, and he was panicking.
Not knowing what else to do, Hawk waited a few blocks away from where you trained at Miyagi-Do, knowing he’d catch you on your walk home.
Making your way down the sidewalk after practice, you were completely unsuspecting when Hawk jumped out of his car and jogged towards you.
Things had really come full circle now, hadn’t they? You, walking home on that same sidewalk, pure disgust for Hawk in your veins as he tried to catch up with you.
You stopped short as Hawk stood in front of you, blocking your path. You were nervous and confused at his intrusion, and decided not to bother avoiding him right now.
His stare towards you was intense, and you only glared back, waiting for him to say what he needed to say.
“You stopped wearing the necklace.” He said it so plainly, you couldn’t tell what kind of response he was looking for. It seemed almost like a question in disguise-- why did you stop wearing the necklace, perhaps?
He was looking at you eagerly, though trying to hide the desperation behind the statement.
“Yeah, and?” You laughed at him, matching his tone of carelessness. He looked like he didn’t understand, so you continued. “What’d you expect? That I’d just keep waiting for you?” You said unpleasantly, with a hint of sadness in your own voice.
A shameful look glossed over his features, but you only kept going. “It’s obvious you’re not coming back, Hawk.” You smile at him mockingly, enjoying the feeling of guilt you were giving him.
He tried to stay strong, but every word you spoke was like a hit to his built-up walls, and they were so close to falling down.
“I spent weeks wondering what I’d have to do to get you to come back to me. To choose me.” You said, your voice calm, but the rest of you not. Your body was shaking with anger now, but your eyes were brimming with tears.
“Until,” You sniffled, gaining a tone of indifference, “I finally realized there was nothing for me to do. You just weren’t coming.” You were almost smiling through the pain, and Hawk looked at you in a loss for words.
You appeared so fragile to him, he just wanted to wrap you in his arms and spout apology after apology for what he’d caused. Seeing your eyes squint in attempt to hold back the waterworks, physically pained him.
“So yeah, I stopped wearing the necklace. But you know what?” You stepped forward confidently, despite the single tear that had just fallen down your face. “I think it hurt more wearing it than it did taking it off.” You finished with hardly any emotion in your voice, and Hawk looked mortified seeing you try to act so unaffected.
He had been silent through your whole exchange, because he knew there was nothing he could say now to make things better. He had done too much damage, and he had caused you too much pain. He did exactly what he said he’d never do.
You waited for him to say something, anything-- but as your eyes bore into his strongly, he couldn’t find the courage to speak. The disappointment was immense, and feeling hopeless once again, you pushed past him to go home.
Panicking at your leave, Hawk grabbed onto your arm. “Y/N, Wait, please-” “No!” You cut him off, looking at him coldly. His face was red, and his eyes were stinging now, too. Ignoring the feeling you got when you saw him like that, you ripped your arm from his grasp. “I’ve waited long enough.”
You turned to leave again, and this time, Hawk didn’t follow. There was only one thing Hawk could do now to get you back, and you knew he wasn’t ready for it. There was no use in you hanging around for him anymore, you deserved better. You deserved someone who cared enough that they’d do what it takes to be with you, regardless of social status.
You didn’t even care if he stayed in Cobra Kai, you just wanted him to stand up to his friends and be proud that he was with you. Didn’t he realize that he was one of the strongest Cobras, and that he could get through any of their shit? If his biggest problem was Tory, he hardly had any reason to stay quiet. You knew deep down he could do better.
Hawk hadn’t understood that then, but as he lingered on you walking away, something clicked in his head.
Maybe he really could do better. He wanted to, for you. He was still terrified at the idea of coming clean to the Cobras, but whatever he’d deal with from that couldn’t be any worse than being without you.
He liked the power he had being in Cobra Kai, and he hoped that he could keep it-- but if losing the power meant gaining you, at this point he was totally okay with that risk. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t at least try to negotiate with his friends first.
“Y/N!” It was a new day at school, and you were walking side by side Sam heading to your lunch table when he called your name. You shared a look with Sam, glancing towards him with a bothered look upon your face. “Come here!” Hawk shouted again, apparently not caring that the whole cafeteria had his attention.
A look of dread spread across your face, and you slammed your lunch tray on your friends’ table in defeat before stomping over to where Hawk and his asshole friends sat. Your friends watched from afar, completely clueless as to what Hawk would need you for, and Demetri struggled to pretend he was just as lost as they were.
“What.” You said bluntly, staring him and the rest of his table down. “Yeah, seriously, what are you doing calling her over here?” Mitch asked, looking at you in revulsion, and you rolled your eyes at him.
Hawk looked between you and his friends, struggling to keep his confident manner in tact, and sighed uncomfortably. “I know we don’t like the Miyagi-Dos. And we don’t like the way they run their dojo.” He stated, hoping to hook his friends in by starting negatively towards their rivals.
His friends looked at him in reluctance, wondering where he was going with this-- and you did too. “But I love Y/N.” He said loudly, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and looking around at his friends. He was more nervous to see your reaction than theirs, so he barely looked at you once he said it.
“What?” The words came strongly from not only his friends, but you, too. He had never told you that before, and your heart melted at his declaration. When you spoke, he gathered the courage to look at you, and you’d never seen him so nervous.
“I love you.” He repeated, looking you in the eyes. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and on top of that he was announcing it to the whole school. You glanced over to see Demetri, mouth ajar, observing the interaction like it were a movie.
He meant it, and you could tell. He was waiting on you for a response, feeling more stress than he’d felt in a long time as he studied your bewildered expression.
Before you could say anything, Bert interrupted the moment. “You can’t love a Miyagi-Do. They’re stuck-up pansies who think they’re better than us.” He said, completely convinced that Hawk was out of his mind and needed a wake-up call.
Hawk cringed a little at the feedback, but was surprised when you decided to bite back. “I joined Miyagi-Do because I was tired of people getting bullied. You all choose violence when it isn’t needed, so I just wanted to be prepared.” You defended your intentions, fearlessly.
Tory snorted. “Oh yeah? And how’s that working out for you?” She jabbed, trying to make fun of your self defense skills. Before you could retort, Hawk slammed his hand down on the table and leaned in towards his peers.
“Listen! I’m with you guys, but she’s right. We’ve been reckless.” He said carefully, trying to keep a balance between who’s side he was on. “Sensei told us to fight smart, and we haven’t been.” He locked eyes with Tory, clearly sending her a message.
You watched as Hawk tried to reason with them, admiring his every move. Keeping up his confidence, he set down what was going to happen, and there’d be no arguments against it. “You guys can hate the Miyagi-Dos all you want, but I’m going to be with Y/N, and I’m staying in Cobra Kai.” 
Interlacing his hand with yours, he looked at you pridefully before turning back to the outraged looks on his friends’ faces. “From now on, if any one of you touches her, you deal with me. That’s of course if she doesn’t kick your ass first.” He said smugly, and you smiled widely, feeling content at his speech.
Your heart was jumping out of your chest at the gesture he made, and you wanted to smash your lips onto his and tell him how much you loved him back-- but you kept yourself restrained for the sake of the situation.
Most of the Cobras nodded nervously at his announcement, not wanting to challenge Hawk when he was so sure of himself. But Tory wasn’t having it. “You guys can’t seriously be okay with this?” She snapped, death-glaring the entire table.
The group looked like they were trying to decide whether they were more afraid of Hawk, or Tory. You smiled to yourself, knowing that no matter their reaction, you had won this, because you were with him now. It would certainly be a bonus if you gained their acceptance, though.
Mitch looked around in uncertainty about what he was going to say, but stuck up for Hawk. “Come on Tory, I mean, I get it... she’s hot.” He said referring to you, and you laughed a little at the shallow but positive response.
Hawk wasn’t as pleased with it though. “Hey.” He threatened, pointing a finger at Mitch. You giggled slightly at his jealous reaction, but pulled him back from Mitch by the hand you were holding his with. Mitch raised his hands in surrender, and Tory stood from the table, getting close to the both of you.
“You’d better sleep with one eye open, assholes.” She spat, and stormed away from the table. It went better than you would’ve thought, truthfully. Everyone else was loyal to Hawk, and you didn’t really expect anything less from Tory. Again, having Tory be your only threat seemed like small potatoes now that you two were together.
You nodded at the rest of the Cobras in respect, and with that whole thing being over, you tugged him by the hand towards your table of Miyagi-Dos. Hawk groaned, realizing where you were taking him, but did his best to stay civil.
Chris glowered at the both of you, and Sam looked a little disappointed, but she tried to look supportive. “So.... yeah. Sorry.” You said sheepishly, knowing that they had already heard everything.
“I’m glad it finally worked out.” Demetri said through a sad smile. You felt a little bad, knowing that Demetri still needed to work out his relationship with Hawk, and here you were rubbing yours in his face. That would be your next mission, you suppose-- operation get Demetri and Hawk to be friends again.
“Thanks, Dem.” You said appreciatively, and Hawk looked suspiciously between the two of you. “Wait, did you tell him before?” He asked defensively. The whole table looked to you and Demetri curiously, and you crossed your arms sassily.
“Uh, did I call someone to come get me after you left me alone in a shed? Yeah.” You recovered, your facial expression sly as you knew he couldn’t come back from that one. The others looked at him exasperatedly at your response, and his face dropped instantly. 
“Oh my god, Y/N I am so sorry about that.” He cowered, immediately dropping it, and you laughed at the remorse he was finally showing. You already knew he was sorry, but you guess it was nice to hear him say it.
He didn’t understand why you were laughing, though. He felt awful. And he also really needed a chance to completely apologize to you in private, now that he had already confessed his true feelings.
Suddenly, he picked you up entirely, arms holding your legs and you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. “Whoah, what is happening?” You laughed, looking at your friends who all looked just as puzzled as you.
Without saying anything else, he took off out of the lunch room carrying you, and made his way to the nearest exit to the outdoors. “Babe, where are we going?” You cackled, amused at the adventure he was taking you on.
Finally outside and alone, he let you down gently in front of him, and took your hands in his lightly. “I’m so sorry. For all of it. I was a complete idiot for letting you go. You knew all along that we could do it, and I was too busy being a pussy to even try. And I’m really sorry for everything that went down today, I hope you aren’t mad, I literally told you I loved you in front of everyone and that must’ve been awkward, I mean you didn’t even get to respond, which, now that I think about it maybe you didn’t want to, or--”
You silenced his rambling with a forceful kiss, grabbing the sides of his face with your hands. “I love you too, Hawk.” You said, pulling away from the kiss quickly, to give him the response he had been looking for.
He smiled big in return, and it turned your insides to mush. “You know, I realized we never got the chance to make things official.” He looked up at you cutely and you smiled back, knowing what was coming.
“So, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked charmingly, his face mere inches from yours. Blushing furiously, you nodded as you touched your forehead to his. “Mhm,” You said in agreement, grinning.
He took a moment, just admiring the look of you so happy, and with his manner still playful, he reminded you of something you had said before. “See? I came back to you.” He said proudly.
You looked at him lovingly, feeling a little emotional at the sentiment. His expression turned serious now, and he parted from you only slightly. “I’m gonna do better for you, Y/N. I promise.” He spoke lowly, and you put your hands on his shoulders, beaming at him in acknowledgement.
You stepped forwards again, getting closer to him. He gave a seductive smirk at your movement, and you subconsciously traced your fingers along his neck, fixated on his face more than anything.
Hawk stared back at you affectionately, his attention flickering down towards your lips. Feeling bold, he placed his hands dangerously low on your waist, and pulled you in roughly for another kiss. You quickly reacted, letting your hands travel to the nape of his neck, your mouth opening slightly-- allowing Hawk the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
Your lips stayed connected as Hawk’s hands made their way up your back, his chest pressing closer to yours. As much as you wanted to continue, you were in broad daylight right outside the halls of your school-- and you really didn’t want a detention for too much PDA.
“Mm, Hawk-” You giggled, breaking away from him. “Hm?” He smiled, his hands resting loosely on your waist as he pecked your lips again before letting you free. “If we don’t go back in soon we’ll miss the whole lunch period.” You said, disappointedly.
“Eh, that’s fine with me.” He shrugged, smirking at you as he clutched you closer. You scoffed playfully, hitting him lightly, and gave him one last kiss before escaping his grip.
He pouted at you, and you looked back at him mischievously. He missed your touch already, so he snaked his arm around your waist as you walked back inside to satisfy his need of holding you.
You felt on top of the world with him by your side, now having full confidence in him and his feelings for you. “It’s a good thing I still have the necklace, huh?” You teased, looking back up at him, and Hawk smiled, tilting his head to meet your gaze.
Though your comment may have only been a joke, both of you felt whole at the idea of you wearing the necklace-- and as you walked joyfully through the halls with him, you knew you’d never be taking it off again.
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i just wanna talk about real quick how much i cringe when writing like its actually terrible how much i cringe at myself so idk if i’ll keep doing fics or not HAHAH but y’all can always send requests and i’ll get around to them if i can. hope yall liked this one tho and made it through the whole thing cuz yikes.
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