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artzee-bee · 3 years ago

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End of all things [1] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir)

Summary: Y/N had been Chat Noir’s friend and moral support for a long time now. Even though she had magical powers too, she never liked getting involved with akuma attacks, but now, as Hawkmoth’s gotten control of the miraculous of creation, she couldn’t stay indiferent anymore. She had to save her friend and Paris!

Genre: Mostly angst? A little fluff

Warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death/dying

A/N: This was requested, but as I was writting it, it got very long and I’ve decided to post it in 2 parts. I’m not gonna post the request just now, so as to not spoil the rest of the story but Part 2 will be coming out on friday!!!

Part 2

~~~

Chat was pacing around the room, waiting for you to be done with your potion. You had heard from your parents that there had been a new akuma attack today, but as the news reported, the two parisian heros took care of the problem in no time. For this reason, Chat’s presence at your house felt unusual. Normally he would stop by when he needed to rant, when he was in need of comfort and reassurance but the fight today went well, so what could possibly be bothering him?

“Ok, I’m done” you said, screwing the cap on the little bottle and placing it on your shelf “Wanna talk?” you asked, to which Chat gave you a shy smile

“Yeah, a little”

You made your way to your bed, motioning for him to follow you. You got under your covers and passed him his favorite plushie, a cat to no one’s surprise

“So what’s up? Is it about the fight today?”

“Well no it’s more like a...personal problem?”

“Oh…”

“Claws out” in a rush of light and electricity, the infamous hero vanished before you, transforming into Adrien Agrest

“Well, what is it?”

Adrien revealed his identity to you months ago. You first met him as Chat, but when you really got to know each other, he decided you needed to know all of him. Well, he needed you to know all of him.

You listened to him rant until way past midnight. Until you were both too tired to stand up straight, so you laid down in your bed, covers up to your necks, muffled stories told in between yawns. You listened carefully, giving him your full attention. He fidgeted with the collar of the stuffed toy and you used your magic to make 2 hot chocolates. Eventually, everything that needed to be said, was said. You offered Adrien to watch a movie, since that always cheered him up, but he refused

“It’s late and I have a photoshoot early in the morning. My makeup team will be angry with my dark circles anyways, better not make it worse” he joked

Adrien transformed back into Chat and you cast a safety spell on him, which you did every time he left your house late at night. He always teased you about being ‘too protective’, but deep down he found it sweet how much you cared and wanted to know that he would get home in one piece.

“Night Chat” you said, wrapping your arms around the hero

“Good night Y/N!”

The next few days went by quietly. You hadn’t run into Adrien at all, but you texted a bit back and forth. Sunday evening however, things took a toll for the worst. You turned on your tv, ready to catch up with your show when you heard Nadja Chamack’s voice doing the news report

“It seems as though Rena Rouge and Chat Noir are struggling to stay on their feet! They have taken shelter under a fallen bus, leaving Ladybug alone to defeat Hawkmoth'' your pulse skyrocketed. As you watched the screen you could see Chat and Rena off to the side, struggling to catch their breath. Rena seemed to be in pain while Chat was trying to help. Ladybug was using her yoyo the best she could in order to protect herself from the supervillain, who was wielding his cane like a sword over her head. The fight was clearly going in Hawkmoth's favour! You grabbed your jacket and ran out the front door and onto the empty streets of Paris, towards the Eiffel Tower, where the fight was taking place.

People screamed at you from their balconies to go home, warning you about the fight and the danger you were putting your life in but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how they needed you. Chat needed you! Every late night talk and every inside joke shared between you two replaid in your head like a broken record. Behind Chat’s tough mask, his alter ego of hero and protector, was the fragile figure of Adrien Agreste. The young blonde boy who cried during romantic comedies, who liked to have his hair braided and forgot how to speak when someone complimented him. If you didn’t help, the heros would loose and he would most likely die! Alongside Ladybug and Rena who, even though you didn’t know their real identities, were still young girls. As you ran down the street, you heard kids crying inside one of the homes. You ran past but at the last second you heard Nadia’s voice coming from their tv

“Ladybug was akumatized”

You approached the Eiffel tower from the side, where you could see everything going on. In front of the tower, right next to Hawkmoth, stood Marinette Dupain-Cheng, dressed in a tight, dark red suit, darker than Ladybug’s. Black butterflies replaced the dots of the heroine's suit and the purple butterfly mask of Hawkmoth’s control was shining over her face. Marinette was Ladybug! She did, in fact, get akumatized. On the other side, you saw Rena and Chat, struggling to stay up right. They were obviously in a lot of pain and extremely tired, but Hawkmoth was merely mocking them.

“After all this time” Chat spoke up, but his breaths were shallow and rapid “I thought you’d know one thing about us! We don’t give up without a fight. Never will. Especially not against you” and with that, the two ran at each other.

“It doesn’t have to end like this, you know?” he said “We don’t have to fight to death. I wouldn’t want to have that on my conscience. All you have to do is give me your miraculouses willingly. The town will be safe, you will be safe! It’s the most heroic option you’ve got. You won’t be any good to Paris if you are dead”

You knew this was not just another fight between them. This was it. Either the heros won or everything they’ve worked for would be lost. Hawkmoth would win and get his hands on both miraculous and god knows what kind of destruction that would bring not only upon Paris, but the world. You focused all your energy in one spot in the air, right between where Chat and Hawkmoth were supposed to clash but before they could reach each other, you sent a wave of energy that blew both of them apart, like a bomb. Hawkmoth flew back into the Eiffel tower while Chat hit the pavement with a thud. Confused and certainly disturbed, both of them began looking around for an answer as to what happened when, finally, Hawkmoth’s eyes landed on yours.

“Aha, miss Y/L/N. What a spectacular honor to finally meet you!” you didn’t reply, instead you stood tall, maintaining eye contact

“I know a lot about you. Seen a lot. Felt a lot of your emotions. None of them can compare to the powers I’ll have with the two miraculouses. With Ladybug’s earrings and the guardian under my control, I’d say my mission here is almost over’’

“Y/N get back!’’ Chat screamed but you were too involved now to run. This was your fight too.

“It is time you give up Hawkmoth. Paris is not yours, neither are the miraculouses. We will destroy you, no matter what it takes!”

“Listen to yourself, kid! <<Destroy me>>? The most you can do is pull a rabbit out of your hat…” before he could finish his sentence, you snapped your fingers in his direction and instantly, the ground around beneath Hawkmoth and akumatized Marinette, fractured. From within the cracks, many tangled plants came out, encapsulating the 2 villains. You sprinted towards Chat and Rena, ignoring the signs of struggle coming from the prison of weeds.

Alongside the two superheros, you hid inside a corner coffee shop, which was now empty.

“Y/N, you need to leave!! You are putting yourself in too much danger!” Rena told you, as she collapsed to the ground from exhaustion

“Stop with that already! I am here and I’m not going anywhere!”

“Yes you are!” Chat looked at you. His voice was calm and yet, his eyes were filled with disappointment “You are not a superhero. This is our job!”

“You need help”

“No we don’t!” Chat had never, in all your years of friendship, raised his voice at you, let alone yell “ You need to stay safe! You could die! Hawkmoth doesn’t care about anything if it helps him get what he wants! I am ready to take that risk. Rena is too” you both turned to the red headed hero, only to see her slowly nod “But I can’t allow you to take it”

“You can’t tell me what to do”

“I don’t want you to die!” he screamed again “I love you and I will never forgive myself if you don’t come out of this alive!”

Before you could say anything, you saw Hawkmoth and his minion, through the cafe window, cutting through the last of the plants and escaping your trap. You grabbed Chat’s arm and pulled him to the floor, from where you could not be seen

“We’re in this together now” you said in a stern voice, looking the blonde kid right in his eyes “Whether you like it or not '' this time, he simply nodded.

You stuffed your hands into the pocket of your jacket and pulled out 3 little bottles, containing a mate, green liquid. You had prepared one for each of the heros, now you’d only need two.

“Here, drink this!” You handed each of them one “Regeneration potion. Should put you back on your feet.” as soon as they finished drinking the brew, you could see color coming back to their faces

“Where’s Marinette’s akuma??”

“Her necklace” replied Rena “It’s a gift from her kwami”

“Got it. You deal with Hawkmoth. I’ll bring Marinette back!”

Chat and Rena exited through the front door, grabbing Hawkmoth’s attention. He called out to Marinette to attack, but before she could take a single step in your direction, you had snuck up behind her. Using a simple invisibility spell, you managed to exit unnoticed behind the two heros. It finally felt like the fight had truly begun. From the corner of your eye you could see Chat and Rena doging Hawkmoth’s attacks while you, were doing your best to get your hands on the stupid necklace! Even though she couldn’t see you, Marinette seemed to almost always know what your next move was. She would expertly block all your attack and would keep you an arm’s length away at all times. Finally, you had enough and in one swift motion, you pinned her back to your chest, ripping the necklace away. A wave of black and purple took over the both of you and when it vanished, all you were left with was a half unconscious Marinette in your arms. You dropped her to the ground slowly as she was coming back to her senses. You wanted to talk to her but your thoughts were driven away as you heard Chat scream bloody murder.

On the opposite side of the platza, you saw Hawkmoth rip Chat’s ring off his finger, forcing him to detransform. The exhausted figure of Adrien Agreste fell to the ground with a thud. Hawkmoth had, indeed, gotten his hand on both the miraculouses.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb x reader #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste fluff #adrien agreste imagine #adrien agreste angst #chat noir #chat noir x reader #chat noir fluff #chat noir imagine #chat noir angst #rena rogue #marinette dupain cheng #ml ladybug

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captainswanandclintasha · 4 years ago

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Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Clintasha and Black Widow

or, as I like to call it... It was, indeed, love and Whedon was an idiot

Warning 1: this post will contain minor and major spoilers from the Black Widow movie as well as details from all the other movies so read at your own risk if you haven’t seen the movie already. The spoilers will be in italic.

Warning 2: this post WILL shit on Josh Whedon and the Russo Brothers, just like every post I made about Clintasha since we found out Clint is (allegedly) married.

So, I am going to start by saying that me, personally, as a person whose been reading, writing and living for Clintasha since the first Avengers movie, I am very, very happy with how things went in the Black Widow movie.

Quick summary: we learned, since the first Avengers movie, that there was something going on between Nat and Clint in Budapest and they remembered things differently, Budapest MEANT different things for both of them (I’ll get there). We also learned back then that Nat felt bad for what she did before SHIELD, we learned that Clint was sent to kill her, that he chose not to and instead Natasha joined him and SHIELD. And so on, so on, you know the story. And then in Captain America: The Winter Soldier the arrow necklace appeared and I am fully convinced, to this day, that when Nat died in Endgame she was still wearing the necklace (especially since we have no indication that she didn’t had it on Vormir!).

Black Widow, the movie, takes place right after Civil War and we are remembered once again, that Clint is in jail. We see Nat, even then, wearing the necklace. And she’s been wearing it the whole time during the movie. Believe me, I’ve paid close attention to this detail.

One of the biggest mysteries in my life is when and how and why Nat got the necklace. We know why SCARLETT gave Nat the necklace, to remember people of her conection to Hawkeye, but it’s never been explained in the movies, and I am not complaining about that because it leaves a lot of room to the imagination. But the fact remains, that Natasha Romanoff is wearing an arrow necklace and there is only ONE person in her life who has any link to arrows in general.

She’s been wearing it since before WE knew Clint had a wife and kids (and I suspect they didn’t know it yet either at that time) and she’s been wearing it in Endgame as well. The necklace has been spotted over different movies and time periods so I guess it’s safe to say it’s been a constant and it was meant to be something more than just a beautiful piece of jewelry. Might I remind you Clintasha was going to be an IT after Avengers?

But let’s go to the elephant in the room: BUDAPEST.

Yes, we FINALLY learn what happened in Budapest. It’s maybe the most important part in their shared history and I, for one, am happy that it wasn’t what I expected.

Budapest it’s important because Budapest it’s where Nat left (or tried to, whatever) behing her Red Room life and at the same time proving SHIELD that she’s with them. And Clint was there. They’ve been in Budapest for 10 days, two of each they hid in the vents and the rest spent in an apartment with Clint throwing arrows at a wall.

It’s like a fanfic coming to life. How many times have we read and wrote about them in Budapest? Clint in the vents? Them fighting their way out? Sharing an apartment while hiding?

And yes, they do remember Budapest very differently.

Nat remembers hiding and fighting for their lifes and taking down Red Room and this being (most likely) her first mission with Clint. Clint, we don’t know for sure, but he probably remembers the vents and the game they never finished.

I LOVED that it was mentioned. I loved that we heard Clint (yes, so Renner WAS in Black Widow, just not how we thought he will be), I love that Natasha talked about him with Yelena. I just loved it.

Clint Barton is important in Natasha Romanoff’s story, maybe more important than Cap and Tony and definetly more important than some people want to admit and this movie didn’t backed down from showing it to us.

Even at the end Nat says her family is in jail and please, out of everyone who was in jail after Civil War, Clint was the most important one.

I’ve said it many times and I will go down with this but Marvel made the biggest mistake ever when they let Whedon give Clint a family (still not relevant to any plot) and not make or keep teasing us with Clintasha as being a thing in the MCU. This would have made even more sense in Endgame when they went to Vormir.

We got close to canon in Endgame... we did, the Russos tried to do something by sending Nat and Clint on Vormir where to get a stone you have to “give the soul of someone you love in order to take the stone” but they failed miserably because they ended killing one of them and they failed making them canon because... well because Clint had a family and, again, FUCK WHEDON.

Clintasha was supposed to be a thing in the MCU, I know it, you know it, Stan Lee knew it... and it would have worked so well...

That being said, I suspected for a while that Natasha will somehow be involved in the plot of the Hawkeye series. I suspected because Nat was as important to Clint as he was to Nat and I happy we will see Yelena go after Clint because I fully believe that will end in an admision of love of some kind (and hopefully a divorce) and also because Renner, bless his heart, is still pushing it hard on social media with spiders and Black Widow and Nat.

If there is one thing Black Widow did right, then that’s Nat and Clint’s relationship with each other because yes, they mention the other Avengers in passing and yes, the family theme IS THE MOST IMPORTANT in the family, but again... Clint is the one that gave Nat a family to begin with.

Okay I think I’m done. I think.

#clintasha #natasha romanoff #clint barton #Black widow #hawkeye #Black widow spoilers #black widow movie #avengers #marvel #anti josh whedon #marvel avengers #captainswanandclintasha

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tsukishumai · 4 years ago

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pairing: miya osamu x gn!reader genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn word count: 3.2k summary: In which Osamu finds that the stranger lurking outside his store window has a connection to his restaurant that he could have never expected.

Osamu remembers every single face that has walked through the doors of Onigiri Miya since the day they’ve opened. He has yet to hire another worker, manning all stations of his business himself. The rush hours always provided him with a bit of a heavy work load, but Osamu has learned a lot about diligence and patience. Business had been good enough; traffic was steady throughout the day, and he had his fair share of regulars whose orders he had already memorized.

The stuffy, salt-and-pepper haired man in the pressed three-piece suit always ordered two umeboshi onigiri and a medium iced green tea. The kind old woman that ran the shop across the street would come in for his salted salmon, and if he had extra, Osamu would throw in an extra tuna mayo. She’d always smile and give him a pat on the shoulder, her eyes crinkling in a way that reminded Osamu of his grandmother.

It was when the shopkeeper had slowly walked out of his establishment and back to her own that Osamu noticed you standing a few feet away from his storefront. You had been wearing a face mask, but Osamu could see that you were staring at his sign. Your eyes squinted at the block letters that looked down at you, before they trailed down to land directly on Osamu. You seemed a little startled at the fact that his eyes were already staring at you, but you were standing outside his restaurant, weren’t you?

Before he could lift a hand to wave you in, you quickly turned and walked away.

Every few days, either during the dinner or lunch rush, Osamu would catch a glimpse of you outside of his restaurant. You’d stare at his sign for a few seconds; maybe glance at the menu board that stood a few feet away from his entrance, or look at the pictures of his full menu taped to the restaurant window. he would see the way you studied each item, yet you always walked the opposite direction.

It bothered Osamu. Why didn’t you want to come in? Did his menu look boring? Was his sign uninviting? Is his decoration too traditional? Should he have made it look a little more modern? He grumbled to himself about it each time you peeked in, and walked away. Why do you bother coming so often if you didn’t want to try his food? Osamu huffed.

It wasn’t until four weeks later, when Osamu had posted three brand new flavors on his menu board that you finally deemed his restaurant worthy enough to step in.

You had stopped by a little bit later than usual today, the dinner rush had come and gone, and the only ones left in the restaurant were you and Osamu. He stood patiently waiting behind his counter, desperately trying to look busy and as if he hasn’t been waiting for this moment for weeks.

He waited until you were close enough to his counter to say his greetings. You nodded at him in acknowledgment, taking a seat at the bar in front of him. He handed you a menu, and your eyes roved over the words as if they hadn’t done so dozens of times prior.

“Can I get ya anything to drink?” He asked, and you took off the baseball cap you had been wearing, setting it down on the counter beside you. Your finger hooks along the ear loop of your face mask and Osamu realizes he’s seeing your face for the first time. You place the piece of cloth in your pocket, and Osamu fights the heat across his cheeks.

“Just water,” you said, and Osamu was quick to set a fresh glass down in front of you.

“What’ll it be?” He asked after a few moments, adjusting the bill of his hat and settling his hand on his hip.

You hum a little, tapping your finger against your lips before you reply. “I’ll have the combo #2 with the gyoza.”

Osamu nodded, “What two flavors onigiri would you like?”

“For the first one, I’ll have your most popular flavor,” you say, before closing the menu and handing it back to him, “I’ll let you choose the second one.”

Osamu raised an eyebrow at your odd request, but nods anyway, putting the menu away and walking back to give his hands a quick wash.

He begins to gather his ingredients when he noticed you take out a notepad and a pen from your bag, placing it on the counter in front of your water.

“So,” he says, starting the process of making his number one seller (salted salmon), “What was it?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, pausing the drink that was half way to your lips. “What was what?”

“Well, ya stood outside for weeks, so I gotta know,” Osamu said, placing the delicate filling into the ball of rice he was kneading in his palm, “What made ya decide to finally come in?”

You tightened your lips, awkwardly setting the cup back down on the counter and placing a palm on your forehead.

“I was that obvious?”

“Were ya trying not to be?” He laughed, looking at you expectantly.

“It was the flavors on your board,” you finally replied, leaning back in your seat, “There was one that my grandfather used to make.”

Osamu smiled to himself, wrapping his first finished onigiri in the seaweed he had roasted earlier that day, placing it gently on a serving platter and moving over to make the next rice ball.

“That’s a coincidence,” Osamu said, “Your grandfather must have had great taste.”

“He used to own a restaurant,” you blurted out, and Osamu hummed.

“You’re kidding,” he said, “Whereabouts?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, shifting your eyes side to side as if debating on whether you wanted to divulge him in your greatest secret. Eventually, you leaned forward, resting your elbow on the counter and placing your chin in your palm. “Actually, it was this one.”

Osamu’s fingers froze. “Ya don’t mean—?”

You nodded excitedly. Osamu lets out a scoff. “Now you’re just messin’ with me.”

“No, I swear!” A bright smile erupted across your cheeks as you jumped a little in your seat, “My grandparents used to own this restaurant.”

“I thought this was a boutique before I bought it?” Osamu questioned, putting his final touches on the second rice ball.

“It was,” you agreed, taking a sip from your water, “They owned this place until I was in high school, and sold it before they retired somewhere in the mountains. It’s been a few different stores since, but this is the first time it’s become a restaurant again. I was pretty surprised when I first saw it.”

Osamu felt an odd sensation of pride began to brew in his chest, shown in the way he sprinkled his sesame seeds a little extra forcefully.

“Well,” he said, placing the plate of two perfect onigiri right on the counter in front of you, “I hope I do this place some justice.”

You smiled, and Osamu found himself smiling with you. He pointed out the shake on the left, and the surprise flavor on the right. You nodded, intrigued, picking up the onigiri lying on the left side.

Osamu makes the gyoza while you take your first bite, nearly pumping his fist in victory when he sees you close your eyes in satisfaction, the tension he didn’t even know you carried slowly melting from your shoulders. He sees you quickly jot down comments on the notepad next to you, and Osamu tries to peek at what you wrote when he gives you the gyoza.

“Ya jottin’ down comments about my food?” He joked, and you jumped a little at his voice, “Got any suggestions, then?”

You smile sheepishly, “It’s just a little hobby of mine.”

He nods, grabbing a towel and wiping down the counter that he had just used. “Well, ya let me know if ya need anything else.”

“It’s just you working tonight?” You ask, grabbing your chopsticks and picking up a piece of gyoza.

“It’s just me every night,” he chuckled.

Your eyes widened as you chewed on your food, swallowing with a loud gulp.

“Doesn’t that get exhausting?” You ask, quickly jotting down your notes before diverting your attention back to him.

Osamu just shrugged. “I poured my everything into something I didn’t love half as much as cooking. This is just how I know how to do things.”

You tilted your head to the side, “What did you do before this?”

Osamu takes a deep breath as he lifts his hat up a little bit to ruffle his fingers through his hair. He flips the cap around and puts it on backwards, his vision no longer half covered by the bill of his hat and he can now look at you fully. He almost wants to laugh because no one has ever asked him that version of this question before. It was always, ‘What are you going to be doing after volleyball?’

He hated the fact that any answer other than ‘I’m going to play professionally’ was deemed a shame, or a waste. For Osamu, he didn’t want to waste another second not pursuing his passion.

So it was refreshing to tell you about volleyball as if it was just a footnote in his food journey; something that he had done prior to finally recognizing his actual potential.

You gawked at him in disbelief, “Volleyball? Were you even any good?”

Osamu actually recoiled in offense, “I’ll have ya know I was on a team that went to nationals three years in a row.”

You raised your eyebrows appreciatively, and Osamu straightened a little.

“So why food?” You question him again, and Osamu wonders if you’re always this inquisitive. He’s answered this question hundreds of times, swore up and down that he would shoot the next person that even dared to say ‘Why food?’ in front of him. Yet for some reason, he felt more than happy to divulge you.

“Because food is more than just something ya eat when you’re hungry. It’s coming back from a long trip, and it’s the warmth that spreads through your body when ya eat your mom’s cooking for the first time. That taste of victory that spreads across your tongue when ya go out for a meal with your pals after a game. The sensation of closing your eyes in satisfaction when ya take a bite out of a fresh onigiri after a long day,” you pause your scribbles at that moment, looking up to shoot him a playful glare. Osamu chuckled and continued, “It’s laughter shared around the table, and memories made over a plate that makes food more than just nourishment for our body, but also for our soul.”

Osamu feels his cheeks heat up as he finishes his speech, embarrassment beginning to sink in at the end of his long tangent. You looked at him with a soft look on your face as you finished the last bite of your first onigiri, and dusted your fingers from any stray grains of rice.

“Words to live by,” you commented, lifting your glass of water up in agreement before tilting it back for a drink.

He let out a breath of relief that lasted only a second when he saw you reach over to pick up the onigiri with toppings he picked out for you. He held his breath as you took a bite, not expecting to see your eyes widen so fast, snapping your head down to the innocent rice ball that now sported a bite mark.

“Shio kombu cheese?” you say hurriedly, holding the onigiri closer to your face.

Osamu steps forward, “Do ya like it?”

You take another bite, chewing slowly, savoring the flavors as they melded in your mouth, and your eyes nearly begin to water.

“I never thought someone other than my grandfather would be weird enough to come up with this,” you laughed, scarfing down the rice ball in less than two seconds. “Yet here it is.”

“It’s not weird,” he defended, “It’s refined.”

You laugh as you dive into a story from your childhood spent sitting in this exact restaurant. Osamu listens intently as you recount how many different failed recipes your grandfather had forced you to ty and review, helping him decide what to put on the menu, or which combinations would bring in the businessmen that always seemed to just walk passed the restaurant.

He tells you of the tantrum his brother threw when he told him he was quitting volleyball, but still, Atsumu was his first sale. You pester him about his secret ingredient, and give him an incredulous look when he says it’s the rice. (“My old volleyball captain is a rice farmer.” “… what an interesting volleyball team.”)

The furniture was different, and the lay out was unfamiliar, but the atmosphere around Osamu’s counter had brought you right back into your childhood, reminding you of all the reasons why you loved what you did in the first place.

Long after your plates had been emptied, and the hour hand on the clock had extended way passed closing time, you finally paid for your meal, stood up from your seat and prepared to take your leave.

“Thank you for the meal, and the conversation,” you lean forward to read his name tag, “Miya-san.”

“Osamu,” he corrects, and raises an eyebrow at you.

You tell him your name, and Osamu repeats it in his mind over and over again.

“Come back soon,” he calls out his usual greeting as you walked out the door, but it felt different when he said it to you.

“I will,” you smile, waving a hand before stepping into the night, leaving Osamu with a dizzy head and fluttering stomach.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

In the following weeks since his late night encounter with you, Onigiri Miya had ceased to be a simple stop along someone’s route to work, or an afterthought on the way home.

One could imagine Osamu’s surprise when he arrived an hour and half before he was due to open, and already a line began to form down the sidewalk. He thought, perhaps it was a fluke, or maybe there was some sort of business convention in town nearby – something to explain the sudden spike in popularity.

Yet day after day, the crowds of people came to him by the dozens, climbing over each other to get a taste of his cooking. He couldn’t stop to wonder how long this was going to last, barely having the time to stop and give himself a break.

He finally realizes it’s not merely coincidence when the lines get longer, yet the faces he sees stay the same. Osamu remembers every single face that walks through the doors of Onigiri Miya, and it’s the ones that he sees over and over that truly give his restaurant its meaning.

The last customer of the dinner rush left thirty minutes ago when Osamu’s phone rang.

“‘llo,” he greets, sandwiching the phone between his ear and shoulder as he sweeps the floor, thinking about how he needed to start looking for someone to hire.

“Hey, asshole,” the voice of his twin comes through loud and clear, “When were ya gonna tell me ya invited that food blogger to your restaurant? And how the hell did ya get them to like your garbage cooking?”

Osamu stops in confusion, grabbing the phone and holding it up himself. “Did ya finally get hit in the head a little too hard at practice? What the hell are ya talking about?”

Atsumu curses at Osamu, telling him to hold on a second as he sends him the link.

Osamu pulls the phone away from his ear for a second, quickly pressing on the blue url that popped up from Atsumu’s chat bubble.

It took a second for it to load, but when it did, Osamu’s jaw dropped

ONIGIRI MIYA IS AN ONIGIRI MUST HAVE by L/N Y/N

Beneath the obnoxious title was a photo of his sign, shining brightly against the wooden panels of his building, looking very much like a beacon for those searching for the perfect plate.

“Your shop is all over the internet and I had to find out about it on my news feed?! What the hell kinda brother are ya...”

Atsumu’s voice faded into the background as Osamu read the flattering words you had written about his restaurant. You complimented the decoration he had been insecure about, and he chuckled at the way you had described the fluffiness of his rice. He was captivated by your use of prose, painting the perfect picture of exactly everything he wanted his food to convey.

It wasn’t until he got to the last paragraph when he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

Though the years have passed, and the season have changed, the sentimentality of this particular shop had never lost its meaning for me. For the first time in years, I felt the soul of my grandfather, the curator of my inspiration and passion, all around the atmosphere of what is now Onigiri Miya. I have every faith that the new owner has already done him justice.

“Excuse me, are you still open?”

Osamu tore his eyes away from the screen, the very author of the only review that will ever matter to him stood a mere few feet away from his counter.

“Call you later, Tsumu,” he said hurriedly.

“Hey, wh—“

Osamu slips his phone back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. You had a cheeky smile on your face as you waited patiently.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya,” he says dryly, and you laugh at his tone.

“Should you be on your phone while you’re on the clock?” You joke as you settle in the same seat you occupied the last time you paid him a visit.

“I don’t know,” Osamu crosses his arms, “Should ya be writing articles about people without telling em?”

You winced a little at his words, holding your hands up in surrender. “You saw it then?”

Osamu nodded.

You looked to the side, rubbing the side of your arm. “Did you like what I wrote?”

Osamu smiled, uncrossing his arms and walking to the back to wash his hands. You watch him curiously as he walked back to you, and pointed to a spot on the wall directly to your right.

“That’s where I’m gonna put it,” he said, “when I print it out and frame it.”

You laughed at the seriousness of his face, and he smirked in satisfaction.

You ordered the combo #2 with a side of gyoza, letting Osamu pick the two flavors. You mentioned how you tried to visit a couple of times, but the line was always so far out the door. He realizes that he has you to thank for that, and you blush deeply when he sincerely tells you so.

“So,” you say as you munch on the honey garlic pork onigiri he prepared, “Aren’t you glad you did this instead of boring, old volleyball?”

Osamu nearly chokes at the insult. “Volleyball is not boring.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let me take you to a game some time. We can eat something other than rice balls.”

You look up from the half eaten onigiri at the chef who made it so carefully, looking so bashful and nervous you couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. I would love that.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

thank you for reading! reblogs are highly appreciated <33

856 notes · View notes

seita · 5 years ago

Text

— you love too easy | hitoshi shinsou (m.)

pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟾𝟹𝟾𝟶

cw: childhood friends!au, roommate!au

tags: unrequited love, pining, toxic relationship (oc x shinsou), brief kaminari x reader, cunnilignus, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, fingering, size kink, loss of virginity, light virgin kink, creampie, squirting, angst with a happy ending

note: sorry if u like kaminari. i made him a huge douchebag in this. i swear i like him i just needed a character to be,,,,well, a douchebag.

— all your life you'd been by his side. you've loved him since you could remember. you've always been by his side so why did he give his heart away to everyone but you; the one who would treat it right?

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He fell in love too easily. You knew that your entire life. He’d give his heart away to anyone and everyone, fully and with everything he had. He loved with every fiber of his being. And it always ended in disaster.

You couldn’t count how many nights you’d spent by his side rubbing his back as he cried because his girlfriend lied to him, comforting him as he hunched over a toilet after crying himself sick because his girlfriend cheated on him, or forcing him to eat because he got so depressed after she ignored him.

It was an endless cycle.

Yet you were always there to build him back up -- to pick up the pieces.

Ever since the first girlfriend he had in Kindergarten that lasted for 2 days and ended in his tears up to the girl he dated in senior year of highschool who cheated on him with her ex...you were the one to fix him.

Yes, Hitoshi Shinsou fell in love far too easily and way too hard.

The thought that kept you awake every night, however, was why couldn’t it be you? You were the one who took the best care of his heart -- being the one to piece it back together every time it was broken. He didn’t need to love anyone else. If he just loved you, he would never have to worry if he just gave his heart to you.

But he never would.

Because he didn’t love you like you loved him.

You’d known him since you were babies -- your parents were friends in highschool and it went on well into adulthood.

Naturally, the two of you grew close -- it was inevitable. Your crush on him developed in childhood -- you two got lost in the mall after you strayed away and he kept you safe and calm until you found your parents, his hand clasped tightly around yours as he let you cling to him. That was the first time you realized he made your cheeks feel warm and your tummy fluttery.

Your parents always joked that the two of you would fall in love and get married. It was nearly impossible for that idea not to be imprinted in your mind.

Except, it was never an idea he entertained.

Part of you felt foolish. You were a grown adult with a crush that you’d harbored since childhood -- pathetic, one-sided crush at that.

The thing was, unlike Shinsou, you’d never dated before. It was never something you desired. Sure, you had confessions and love letters but you’d never once accepted them. You just couldn’t see yourself being with anyone but him.

Upon graduating, the two of you realized how terrible it was to be 18 trying to make it in the adult world. After a few years of fumbling and nearly getting kicked out by not making your rent payments on time, you decided that rooming together would be the best idea.

It was a foolproof plan; you’d known each other for your whole lives so it wasn’t like you’d suddenly hate each other, you knew he was responsible with his money and you were too, and he was a quiet, chill guy so there wouldn’t be any obnoxious ruckus.

What you didn’t think about, however, was him bringing girls home.

“This is Aoi,” he introduced, motioning to the smiling girl beside him, “Aoi, this is _____...she’s my best friend.”

“And his roommate,” you added, holding your hand out politely.

“Oh you...live together?” you didn’t miss the distaste in her tone as she reached out to give you a weak handshake, pulling away as quickly as she could. She immediately wrapped her arms around his and he leaned how to press a kiss to the top of her head.

Ouch. That made your heart hurt.

Of course, it was nothing new. This was something you’d been through time and time again.

What you hadn’t accounted for, was her dislike of you. Naturally, his past girlfriends hadn’t always been fond of you -- after all, you were a big part of their boyfriend’s life. And jealousy was a fickle disease.

But Aoi’s dislike bordered on hatred and disgust over you. Every chance she got, she was pulling Shinsou away from you with some thinly veiled excuse. It seemed your best friend was none the wiser as well.

You couldn’t blame him -- he was in love. Unfortunately.

Aoi’s glares were ice cold, often sending shivers down your spine when she set it upon you. It was uncomfortable to say the least. She was at your place often enough for you to take up the art of avoiding her.

That is until one day when things seemed to come to a head for her. You weren’t sure what you did but you found yourself cornered in the kitchen one evening while Shinsou was taking a shower -- leaving just the two of you alone.

“Listen to me,” Aoi spat, arms crossed over her chest, making her look petulant, “You need to back off of Toshi.”

“Uhh...what?” you grunted, looking up from the glass of chocolate milk you were pouring.

“Stay away from him!” she spat.

“We literally live together,” you rolled your eyes, capping the pint of milk, “I can’t stay away from him.”

“You know what I mean,” she hissed, clearly pissed off by your sarcasm. She marched up to you, grabbing your upper arm in a vice grip, her acrylic nails pinching your skin, “I see the way you look at him. I know that look in your eye. You love him.”

Your mind blanked, mouth opening but failing to produce any words. She smirked smugly, stepping back and crossing her arms again.

“I…” your brows came together as you shook your head, finally putting the milk away.

“I knew it,” she huffed, “You can’t take him from me. Toshi is mine so you better remember that. You have no idea what I can do to you.”

With that parting threat, she stormed out of the kitchen back to Shinsou’s bedroom. You felt tears sting your eyes, feeling utterly humiliated by her.

Another thing about Hitoshi Shinsou is he’s terribly dense sometimes. You had no idea how he managed to miss the horrifying tension between you and Aoi. But he somehow did.

The three of you sat in the living room -- the two of them cuddled on the couch while you curled up under a throw blanket with your phone open to Twitter on the loveseat. They were watching some movie Aoi picked out that you knew Shinsou hated, but he watched it anyway. The thought made you bitter.

You’d never make him watch movies he hated. That’s just selfish.

You let out a sigh, catching your best friend’s attention immediately.

“What is it, darlin’?” he asked, the usual pet name he used for you making your stomach flutter. Aoi’s eyes narrowed in distaste at it but he paid her no mind.

“Oh, I’ve just got a bit of a headache,” you mumbled, locking your phone to look over at him.

He frowned, concerned, pulling his arm from around his girlfriend’s shoulders. She whined at the loss, attempting to pull him back but he paid her no mind.

He disappeared from the living room to the kitchen. You could hear the refrigerator open before he began shuffling around the cabinets.

“You’re not slick,” Aoi hissed, keeping her voice low, “Why don’t you just go away. Don’t you think he’d prefer to be alone with his girlfriend? You’re just a third wheel.”

You didn’t get to reply before Shinsou returned, holding a glass of your chocolate milk and a couple pills. He smiled, handing everything to you before taking a seat with Aoi again. She immediately clung to him with a whine.

“Thank you Toshi,” you smiled, popping the pills in your mouth before taking a quick gulp of the milk.

“Anytime, darlin’” he smiled, turning his attention back to the movie he hated.

Part of you felt prideful that he was willing to pull himself away from his girlfriend to take care of you. She clearly saw you as competition and you couldn’t deny the giddy feeling it gave you when you proved to her that you meant something to Shinsou.

You noticed very quickly when Shinsou stopped calling you by his nickname. It baffled you and you didn’t hesitate to bring it up to him.

“Ah, Aoi mentioned she doesn’t like it when I call other girls pet names,” he rubbed the back of his neck in that familiarly anxious way of him. He was avoiding your gaze, further ticking you off.

“I’m not other girls, Hitoshi,” he visibly cringed at hearing his full name, “I’m your best friend. You’ve always called me that.”

He sighed, biting his lip, clearly torn, “Sorry _____,” you frowned at the sound of your name. It seemed so foreign hearing it where he’d usually call you ‘darlin’’, “She is my girlfriend and it’d be shitty of me to neglect her wishes. I want this to work, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest, “This is stupid Hitoshi.”

He sighed, clearly growing annoyed as well, “Look, you’re just my friend, alright? So back off.”

Your jaw fell open at those words, tears already starting to sting at your eyes, “Just your friend? That’s low, Hitoshi. I am not just your friend and you know it.”

He groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair, “You’re starting to sound jealous and clingy, _____. It’s not a good look.”

Feeling that the tears were going to spill any moment, you shook your head and stormed past him, “Screw you Shinsou.”

You slammed your bedroom door, missing the sight of him burying his face in his hands. Hearing you address him by his last name was even worse than hearing his first.

Things remained tense between the two of you for a week. You had really been hurt by his words. You always thought you meant a lot to him -- that you’d never be the person who was pushed aside for a relationship. You never thought Shinsou would do that.

As a result, you made no effort to even speak to him. Sometimes you’d pass him while he sat on the couch, Aoi snuggled up to him. Whenever you made eye contact with you, she held this smug, superior look that made you want to clock her.

You’d never hated a girlfriend of his more.

Finally, Shinsou gave in. He couldn’t stand not having you to talk to. There was this heavy feeling lingering on his shoulders every time he thought about the cold way you called him by his last name. He never wanted to be addressed like that by you.

There were a series of knocks on your door and you paused, debating on ignoring him. He knocked again when you took too long to answer.

“Come in,” you groaned, putting your laptop aside to give him your attention.

“Hey,” he smiled half-heartedly as he slipped into your room, closing the door behind him.

“What do you want?” you asked, no bite in your voice.

He sighed, taking a seat beside you on the bed, “I want to apologize for what I said. I know that hurt your feelings so I’m sorry.”

You were quiet for a moment before you sat up straighter, “Hitoshi...I don’t want you to become a different person because of a girl.”

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

You sighed, “I think she’s a bad influence on you, Toshi.”

He softened briefly at your use of his nickname but it was quickly replaced by a cold stare that sent shivers down your spine, “A-A bad influence? I’m not a kid, _____.”

You frowned, “You don’t have to be a kid to be negatively influenced by another person's toxicity, Hitoshi.”

“You think she’s toxic?” he scoffed, standing up, “You don’t even know her. You’ve barely even spoken to her.”

“Well the bit that I have spoken to her was not pleasant,” you spat, moving to sit at the edge of the bed with your feet on the floor, “I don’t think she’s good for you.”

“What are you, my mother now?” he growled, spinning around to glare at you, “Maybe I was wrong...maybe you are just jealous.”

“How am I acting jealous?” you cried, growing frustrated, “Caring about your wellbeing is jealousy now?”

“Oh get off it,” he groaned, “What’s she done then, huh? Tell me.”

You paused, remembering her threat. But you were so pissed off you couldn’t keep it in anymore, “She’s threatened me to stay away from you. She’s so insecure about our friendship she threatened me over it! Said you were hers and I better remember that. She’s crazy!”

“She didn’t say that,” he argued, eyes narrowed maliciously, “You’re just making shit up to make her look bad now. That’s really low, _____.”

“You asked me to tell you what she did and then you just don’t believe me?!” you screeched, tossing your hands up in exasperation.

“I thought you’d tell me the truth, not make up some pathetic lie!” he shouted, making you flinch.

“Pathetic?” you breathed, shoulders sagging, “Is that what you think of me?”

He was quiet for a moment, jaw set. He seemed to be thinking his words carefully, which made his next even more painful, “Yeah. I do. This jealousy and lying of yours is pathetic. I get if you don’t like her but don’t make up shit about her,” he made way for the door, yanking it open, “Grow the fuck up, ______.”

You didn’t get a chance to reply before he was slamming your door shut. All at once, your emotions came crashing down and you buried your face in your pillow to silence your sobs.

Your eyes fluttered open and you groaned, feeling your head pound. A glance out the window showed that it was nighttime. You had fallen asleep.

You climbed out of bed to your desk to find your packet of headache pills. You let out a sigh of relief as you swallowed them down with the bottle of water sat on your nightstand. Flopping back into bed, you closed your eyes and attempted to relax your body.

Just as it seemed that you were going to fall back asleep, there was a loud noise from past your door. You frowned, your eyes fluttering open in confusion.

It came again and it took you a moment to realize what it was. A woman’s moan.

“Toshi!” you heard her squeal, making you flinch.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you hissed, feeling those tears come burning their way back.

“That feel good, baby? Let me hear you,” he growled and your hands flew up to cover your ears to muffle the sounds of her pleasure.

This was low for Shinsou. Sure, he’d had sex with girlfriends before but he always made sure to keep it down for your sake. Now he was just doing it to dig at you.

He wasn’t wrong about your jealousy but you knew he thought you were jealous over his attention being taken away. But that wasn’t the case at all. It was because you were in love with him.

Now he was forcing you to listen to him fuck the girlfriend you literally had a fight over. This wasn’t like Shinsou at all.

She really was just a terrible influence on him but he was too in love to see it. She was making him into a different person and you hated it. It was happening so quickly.

As you laid in bed, tears wetting your bed as you hid your head under your pillow, you couldn’t help but think.

The stupid fool really fell in love way too easily.

Things went from bad to worse astonishingly fast. Aoi was over more often than she had been before. The snotty comments and humiliating words from her every time you saw her and the cold, deadly glare Shinsou set on you whenever you came anywhere near his girlfriend was wearing on you.

You were unhappy. It was an emotion you rarely ever felt around him -- Shinsou was always the one to pick you up, not put you down. It got to the point where he wouldn’t even respond to your greetings or questions, giving you the complete silent treatment.

It hurt.

To escape the suffocating negativity of your apartment, you picked up even more shifts at work. The video game shop became a place you found solace in.

If Shinsou noticed your absence, he didn’t make it known to you.

“Will that be all for you today?” you asked, plastering on a fake, customer service smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, slapping down a few bills to cover the charge, “But I think I’d like to add your number to my receipt.”

You took a moment to look at him. He had blonde hair with a lightning bolt of black through it. He was dressed in black jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. He was cute, you’d give him that.

“Is that the best you could come up with?” you asked, opening the register with a brow raised.

He giggled, making you smile despite yourself, “I was on a time crunch I didn’t want to miss my chance.”

“Who said you had a chance to begin with?” you asked, passing him his change, “3.14 is your change.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d give one to me,” he shrugged, stuffing the change into his pocket before grabbing the bagged video game he’d purchased.

You gazed at him for a moment. He was charismatic and cute. He liked video games just like you. And he’d be a great distraction.

“Sure, why not?” you mused, watching his eyes go wide.

“Wait really?” he gasped, a grin stretching across his face.

“Did you think I’d say no?” you asked.

“U-Usually I get rejected so…” he shrugged, scratching the back of his head with a cute blush reaching his ears, “Anyway, when’s your shift end?”

“Um...closing time, so about 8:30,” you replied, glancing at the clock. 5 hours left.

“Sweet, I’ll pick you up!” he grinned.

“I-I’ll have to change though!” you complained, making him pause and shake his head.

“Don’t worry about it!” with those parting words, he bolted out the door, the bell chiming to signal his departure.

As he disappeared from view, you realized you didn’t even know his name.

You would come to find he was Denki Kaminari; a college student majoring in graphic design. He had a friend named Katsuki Bakugou who was as loud as he was angry. Eijirou Kirishima was a kind, chill guy who mellowed out the explosive Bakugou well. Mina and Sato, two friends-turned-lovers, were a common source of laughter for the group.

You were together for a little over a month and a half when he finally asked to meet your friends. Truth be told, the only person you could consider a friend would be Shinsou. You had acquaintances and those you hung real casually with but Shinsou was the only person you’d consider a friend.

Well, you weren’t sure if he could even be called that anymore.

Eventually, you gave in and decided to bring Kaminari to your apartment.

“Whoa, nice place,” he mumbled, looking around.

“You think so? Thanks,” you smiled, leading him towards the living room, “Like I said...things are...tense between me and Hitoshi so…”

“Who’re you?” a familiar voice came from the entry of the hallway.

Shinsou stood there, messy hair and tired eyed wearing basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt. His eyes burned holes into Kaminari, who visibly shrunk beneath the heated glare. You took note of how Shinsou didn’t even look at you.

That still hurt.

“I’m Denki Kaminari,” the blonde replied, approaching Shinsou to shake his hand, “I’m _____’s boyfriend!”

You didn’t miss the shift in Shinsou’s look, his eyebrows perking up ever so slightly. His gaze finally shifted to you before he scoffed from his nose, making you wince.

“Alright,” Shinsou mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets before turning his back to the both of you, stalking back to his room with a slam of the door.

Kaminari winced, “Boy, you weren’t kidding.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, motioning him to follow you, “Let’s head to my room. I don’t know if Aoi is here or not and I don’t care to find out.”

“I kinda wanna meet her too,” your boyfriend whispered, lowering his voice so it didn’t carry to Shinsou.

“No you don’t,” you chuckled, shutting your bedroom door once the two of you were safely inside.

You sat beside him on the bed, reaching for your remote to click the TV on for background noise. He cuddled in beside you, commenting on how soft your bed was.

“You smell really good,” he suddenly whispered, nosing at your neck.

You blinked in surprise, moving your head so he could get a better angle, “Th-Thanks…”

He hummed as you shivered once he pressed a few soft kisses against your neck. It tickled a bit but also sent a strange tingle down your spine the more he kissed. Your heart hammered in your chest and you briefly wondered if Denki could hear it.

He cupped your jaw, pulling you into a deep kiss. His tongue met your bottom lip, making you sigh against his lips.

You barely noticed his hand crawling up your shirt until it snuck beneath the band of your bra. The unfamiliar feeling of someone cupping your breast had you pulled away, tugging on Kaminari’s hand to pull him away.

“W-We shouldn’t…” you whispered, unsure of how to reject him, “W-With Shinsou the way he is…”

Kaminari looked skeptical for a second before nodding his head, “Got it.”

And that was that.

At least you thought until he began trying more and more. It became common for you to find his hand up your shirt. The feeling made you uneasy, making you realize you really weren’t ready to have sex. Kaminari was your first boyfriend and you weren’t willing to give everything up to him like that.

“Why do you always stop me?” Kaminari asked one day, voice soft and reassuring.

“I just…” you cleared your throat, biting your lip, “I don’t want to go that far yet.”

He was quiet for a moment before smiling and nodding his head, pulling you closer to him with a kiss to your forehead. Your body relaxed, thankful that he wasn’t angry with you like you had feared he would be.

He began following your wishes, no longer attempting to go past kissing. You were thankful.

Unfortunately, your bliss didn’t last long because next thing you knew, he was dumping you. Over text.

You had just got home from work, your feet aching and dread pooling in your stomach at the idea of being home. You were so tired of being scared to come home, it was exhausting. Shinsou was sitting on the couch, eating something he’d made himself for dinner with his back to you. He didn’t even show any signs that he knew you were home.

Lingering by the door, you pulled your phone out to check your notifications.

One from Denki made your heart stop -- the preview text already displaying what you feared. Your fingers were trembling as you unlocked your phone to look at the message.

As you read it, the words grew blurrier until tears began to drip onto your screen -- further obscuring the words there.

A small whimper escaped your throat, despite the way you tried to choke down any sounds. You quickly scurried to get to your bedroom when a strong hand snagged your wrist. Wide eyed, you were spun around to find Shinsou wearing a frown and furrowed brows.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, voice stern with concern.

You shook your head, feeling pathetic. You didn’t like Kaminari that much. Truthfully, you were mostly dating him to get away from Shinsou. But the idea that you were dumped because you wouldn’t have sex was utterly humiliating. Your first real boyfriend dumped you because you wouldn’t put out.

“You were right,” you sniffled, unable to hold back the sob that tore through your chest, “I am pathetic.”

He didn’t have the chance to even think of a reply before you were escaping his hold to hide away in your bedroom. You haphazardly stripped and changed into your softest set of clothes, deciding you were going to wallow in your own self pity for the night.

Your humiliation overshadowed the fact Shinsou had shown you the first sign of care in weeks. He had reacted to your crying just as he always had and instinctively moved to comfort you.

You could hear muffled voices from the hallway, one male and one female. The fact he brought her over after you just had a near meltdown in front of him irked you and only brought more tears forth.

A sense of anger rushed over you -- you didn’t want her there. This was your house and you didn’t want her there while you were going through it. You had half a mind to go out there and kick her out, maybe Shinsou would let it slide since you were clearly having a tough time.

What you didn’t expect were the shouts coming from them. You frowned and walked towards your door, cracking it open to listen to their shouting from the living room.

“You’re kicking me out?!” Aoi cried.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Shinsou sighed, “You don’t live here. I’m just asking you to go home for the night, Aoi.”

“Why should I?” Aoi argued, “Because she’s upset? Who cares!”

“I care!” Shinsou snapped.

Aoi scoffed, “Oh yeah, since when? Last I checked you picked me over her!”

“I didn’t pick anyone over anyone,” Shinsou huffed.

“Really?” Aoi’s tone was dripping in sarcasm, “You haven’t paid her a second of attention since your little fight. I doubt you even noticed how she’s been working full-time instead of part-time. Why do you think that is? To get away from you! Not that I give a shit, but you have been treating her like dirt. So don’t even try and pretend you give a shit, I know you don’t. You only feel bad because she’s crying. Once she gets over it you’ll just come back to me in the end. So just let her sulk by herself, she’s a big girl.”

Shinsou was quiet after that. You were sure he wasn’t even going to respond but you continued to stand there and listen. The apartment was silent, you could even hear the ticking of the decorative clock Shinsou’s mother had given you both.

“She was right, huh?” he finally whispered.

“Huh?” Aoi replied, clearly annoyed.

“I really did let you turn me into someone else,” he sighed, “God, I’m so stupid.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Hitoshi?” she snapped, growing impatient over the argument.

“You should leave,” Shinsou said, voice strong once again, “You and I are done.”

“What?!” Aoi shrieked, stomping her foot, “You can’t dump me! Not for her!”

“Get out, Aoi,” Shinsou growled, yanking the front door open.

She scoffed, “Don’t come crawling back to me when you learn she isn’t worth it.”

The slam of the door signalled the end. Silence ensued and you slipped back into your room, letting your door shut silently.

Just as you expected, there were a few soft knocks on your door. You didn’t reply but he opened up anyway, peeking in to find you sitting on the bed with your head hung.

“I assume you heard all that,” he said, cupping the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss,” you mumbled, feeling awkward about sharing this moment with him.

You didn’t look up when he sat down beside you. With a sudden tug, you found yourself wrapped up in a sweet embrace.

“Why were you crying? Did something happen with that Kaminari dude? Did he hurt you?” his concern brought forth a new flood of tears that you let go.

“He dumped me,” you whined, clinging to the front of his shirt.

“Why?” he asked, petting your hair softly.

You scoffed, shame building up inside you, “Because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

Immediately he pushed you back by your shoulders to look at your face, “He dumped you ‘cause you wouldn’t fuck him?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze, “He said he had needs and he wasn’t willing to wait for me to put out.”

“Jesus,” Shinsou scoffed, shaking his head, “What a prick,” he pulled you into his chest again with a sigh, “It’s good you didn’t sleep with him then. He wouldn’t have been worth it.”

“Yeah, I would have regretted it,” you nodded, “I’m not even sad he broke up with me. I just feel like shit that it was over sex. He was my first boyfriend and I got dumped because I wasn’t ready...that sort of feels shitty, you know?”

Shinsou nodded, resting his cheek atop your head, “I understand. It’s like a blow to your self-esteem, yeah?”

“Exactly,” you sniffled, your tears finally coming to a stop as he held you and let you talk, “I didn’t like him enough to sleep with him anyway. Even if I was ready.”

Shinsou chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you’re not heartbroken over it.”

You were quiet for a long moment before you pulled away from him, “How are you? I know you liked Aoi.”

Shinsou frowned, looking at his hands in his lap before shrugging, “I actually don’t really feel anything.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. Usually he would be in tears by now. But he was right, there wasn’t even an ounce of sadness in his eyes.

He nodded, “All I really cared about was you. I guess realizing what she really was wiped out anything I felt for her. Truthfully, it was probably going to be over soon anyway.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

“We just didn’t have good chemistry, I suppose. The sex was great but beyond that we didn’t really share any common interests,” he explained, leaning back on his hands with a sigh.

You cringed at the mention of sex -- remembering the night you sobbed as you were forced to listen to them go at it. Shinsou seemed to notice your discomfort, leaning up straight once more to take your hands in his.

“I’m sorry, ______,” he breathed, making you look up at him, “I was such a fuckin’ asshole to you. You didn’t deserve that and if you chose to never forgive me I would understand. But I promise I will never let a girl come first again. You’re my best friend, you’re the entire world to me and you will always be here when all the girls leave, I know that. No one can ever replace you.”

His words caused a flood of tears to flood down your cheeks again. You threw your arms around his shoulders, tugging him into a desperate hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your shirt with his face buried in your neck.

“I will always be here, Toshi,” you hiccuped, “I really will. It doesn’t matter if you choose the next 50 girls over me, I would never let you go. I would rather live with you ignoring me and making me cry over not having you at all.”

He sighed, tears of his own falling from his eyes and wetting your skin but you didn’t mind, “I would never ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, voice trembling. You couldn’t stop the next words from coming, you didn’t even try, “That’s how strong my love is for you, Toshi. I would do anything for your happiness. I’ll let you cry on my shoulder when girl after girl breaks your heart, even though it hurts so damn much because I know I would never, ever let you down like that. I’ll sit with you in the living room while another girl is wrapped in your arms, desperately wishing it was me, because you want me and her to be friends. You don’t even know it but you have every bit of me,” your voice broke as you let out a sob, taking a stuttering breath before continuing, “I never dated because I only ever loved you. You’re the only one I ever want to love. I don’t even care if you don’t feel the same, Toshi, I just needed you to know...I have loved you since we were kids. Whenever your mom joked that we would get married, I used to go to sleep hoping it would come true one day. You’re it for me, you know?”

Shinsou was still, every muscle in his body tense against you. You remained relaxed, relishing in being held in his arms even though it very well may be the last time you would ever experience it. His tears had stopped and you could feel his hands trembling against your back from where he was still holding your shirt in tight fists.

Finally, slowly, he pulled away. You avoided his gaze, scared of what you may find there. With trembling fingers, he lifted your chin until you were finally forced to meet his gaze.

“______…” he whispered, your voice like honey on his lips, “Is that true? Since we were kids?”

You chuckled through your still falling tears, “Remember that time at the summer festival when I wandered off and you had to chase me? And I got scared because I couldn’t find our parents? When you let me hold onto you and you kept reassuring me that everything was okay…” you shrugged, your voice cracking as you uttered, “I knew I loved you then. And I love you to this day.”

His wide eyes were glassy as he stared at you, mouth agape in his shock. It was so much for him to take in.

Before you knew what was happening, he was leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. Your vision went white for a second in shock at the feeling.

His lips were soft and as you began to kiss back, you tasted coffee on his lips. Typical of Shinsou, it was late at night and he was still drinking coffee. The thought made you smile and you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He cupped the back of your head, a soft sigh escaping him as he moved his lips expertly until you were breathless.

After a long moment, he pulled away. The both of you were panting, eyes lidded as you processed what just happened.

“Toshi…” you whispered, feeling euphoric after kissing him, “I don’t understand.”

He shook his head, cupping your cheek, “All you need to know...is that I love you too.”

You gaped at those words coming from his lips. Surging forward, you pressed your lips against his again. He smiled into the kiss, leaning further against you until you were forced to lay back against the mattress. His body was hovering above yours, held up by his elbows on either side of your head.

He wasted no time in touching your body, years of desperation finally culminating into this one moment. His hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing the hem up to expose the soft skin of your belly. He paused at your ribs, unsure if you were okay with him going any further. But when you gripped his wrist and urged his hand up to cup your breast, he threw away those inhibitions.

Thumbing your sensitive nipple, you keened as they hardened beneath his touch. He leaned down a bit more to press his lips against yours.

You lost yourself against his lips, whimpering and grinding against nothing. Just the fact the man you’d loved for so long was there touching you after years of craving it had your panties soaked.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, breaking from the kiss to kiss down your body.

You trembled beneath him, watching him with rapt attention as he kissed the exposed skin of your stomach and ribs. Sighing, you let him push your shirt over your head to discard off the side of the bed. He leaned forward, enveloping one of the pert buds in his hot mouth, tonguing at it until you were whining and begging him to give attention to the other one. He did so eagerly, providing a stimulating suck before finally pulling away. His lips were swollen and his cheeks were flushed, the very fact you made him that way was dizzying.

“Wanna taste that perfect cunt too, baby,” he growled, voice losing the soft, sweetness it once held.

“O-Okay,” you agreed easily, raising your hips so he could tug the last remaining articles off of your body.

The second you were bare, his hands were pinning your thighs open. His eyes examined every inch of your pussy -- taking in the juices dripping from your clenching hole.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart, “so pretty too, god. Look at you...you’re perfect. Bet you’re so sweet…”

“Please Toshi…” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his hair.

His eyes fluttered at the feeling, allowing you to pull him to your pussy where he eagerly ran his tongue flat between your spread folds. You gasped, eyes slamming shut as he paused to wrap his lips around your clit for just a split second. The teasing touch was addictive and you suddenly wanted more.

Shinsou understood what it is you wanted and quickly dove back in for more. Circling his tongue around your clit, your back arched. You wanted to close your thighs against the stimulation but his strong hands kept your legs pinned open.

He swirled his tongue quickly, moaning before enveloping the bud in his hot mouth. You tugged his hair, crying out his name as you felt a high approaching rapidly. He looked so good between your thighs, eating your cunt like you’d dreamed of for ages.

Suddenly, he pulled away, licking his lips before sitting up.

“Fuck, tell me babygirl,” he breathed, “You gonna let me fuck this pretty cunt?” you nodded, reaching to push his shit up but he stopped you, looking you in the eyes, “Use your words. Tell me.”

“Yes, please fuck me Shinsou!” you begged.

He grinned, pressing a kiss against your lips before stripping himself of his clothes.

You almost gasped at the sight of his cock. He was big; long and thick. Subconsciously, you clenched your thighs together in anticipation.

“You ready?” he asked, scooting to sit between your spread legs.

You tensed up as he prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock. He realized how tense you were and ran his hand along your thigh to soothe you, “You good? You can back out anytime, darlin’.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling your cheeks heat up as you looked at him through your lashes, “I-It’s just...go slow?”

He frowned, brows drawn together before he backed away from you a bit, “Is this your first time, sweetheart?”

Licking your lips, you hesitated before nodding. Shinsou sighed, hanging his head to rest against your collarbone. You frowned, “I-Is that bad?” you asked.

Truth was, you never wanted anyone but him. You never had a desire to have sex with anyone but him. You knew he was the one person you’d never regret being with.

“No!” he sat up, eyes wide before wrapping his hand around the nape of his neck nervously, “I just wish you would have told me sooner...that was almost bad.”

“Why?” you asked,making him chuckle. He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Well…” clearing his throat, he looked off to the side bashfully, “My dick’s not exactly the smallest around and since you’re a virgin you could do with...a lot more preparation, you know?”

Your cheeks were ablaze from the bluntness of his words. He didn’t waste another second in bringing his hand to your still wet pussy.

He sighed, a smile lingering on his lips as he worked his middle finger into your tight hole. Humming, he bit his lip as he slipped his ring finger alongside it. You sighed, eyes fluttering at the mild stretch that came along with it.

“Feel okay?” he asked softly, working the two fingers in and out of your hole.

You nodded, “Feels good,” you breathed.

Your eyes fell closed as he crooked his fingers upwards to touch that sweet spot on top. Your hips jumped at the sensation, ripping a moan from your swollen lips. He smirked, burying the digits deep, licking his lips at the way your juices gushed out from around them.

With his other hand, he found your clit, circling the bud with his thumb as he worked his index finger into the mix. The added stimulation to your clit made your wall clench tightly and he grunted, imagining what it would feel like around his cock.

“Please Toshi,” you begged, “I want you already.”

“Thank you’re ready?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

And he was right when you whimpered out a pathetic little, “Yes!”

He resumed the position from earlier, his tip pressed against your entrance. It was opened a bit from his three fingers but he knew it was still going to be a tight fit.

He took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he began to sink into your cunt. You whimpered as your walls stretched around him, squeezing his hand. He bottomed out quickly, stilling to let you adjust to being stuffed so full of his thick cock.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“N-No…” you mumbled, “Just...feels weird.”

He chuckled, kissing your lips again. He could feel you squeezing around him, your cunt unused to having such a big cock inside. The fact he was your first, the one taking your virginity -- tainting your pure body was turning him on more than he ever thought it would.

He couldn’t even lie and say he’d never taken a cherry before but with you it was different. He felt a sense of pride and possessiveness wash over him; you were his completely. You had given him your heart and your body.

Burying his face in your neck, he pressed kisses against the sweet spot he easily found there. Grinding his hips against yours, he stirred your insides with his thick length until you were arching your hips to get more of the addictive pleasure only he could bring you.

He pulled out halfway, slowly sinking his cock back inside with a groan.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, eyes glued to where your cunt was stretched around him, “Taking me so well, look at that.”

“Feels so good,” you whimpered, clutching the sheets beneath you in your fists.

“Yeah?” he grinned, pulling out so the tip remained only to surge forward and sink his cock into you in one long thrust. Immediately, your back arched and you let out an erotic moan that had his cock throbbing against your walls, “Fuck, my cocks almost too much for you but you’re bein’ such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Taking what I give you...fuck…”

His praise and dirty words went straight to your core. He set a steady pace, making sure to angle his hips up so he could hit your g-spot. The pleasure had your eyes rolling back and you cried out his name every so often, making his heart race.

“Sound so pretty sayin’ my name…” he groaned, cupping your breasts in his hands as he fucked you, “Pussy’s so tight and wet...I can feel you dripping, you know that? Who would have thought such a pretty cunt could get so messy. But you only get this messy for me, right darlin’?”

“Only you!” you babbled, wrapping your arms around his neck to press your lips against his. He moaned into your mouth, reaching between your bodies to circle your clit, “Fuck! Toshi, y-you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Fuck,” he groaned, “Do it then, sweetheart. Go on, cum on my fucking cock.”

A few more thrusts and circles over your swollen bud had you falling over the edge. Your body trembled and arched beneath him, cunt spasming around him as he worked you dutifully through your orgasm.

Once you came down, he pulled his hand from your clit and pulled out. You were panting, body limp and relaxed as you let him move you onto your hands and knees. Keeping your face buried in the pillow, you allowed him to maneuver you into the proper position.

He pressed his hand down on the small of your back, “Arch your back for me, good girl.”

“Th-This is embarrassing, Toshi…” you whispered into the pillow.

He hummed, gripping his cock to direct himself back into the sweet vice of your cunt, “No reason to be embarrassed, kitten. It’s just me...you can trust me.”

“I-I know...but still…” you whimpered, eyes fluttering as he sunk his cock deep inside. The position allowed him to reach a new depth.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked softly, running his hand along your spin.

You hesitated for a second, focusing on the pleasurable sensation of being filled so completely before shaking your head. He grinned, leaning down to kiss your shoulder blade, “Good girl.”

The praise went to your head and you suddenly had a desire to receive more. You wanted to be good for him -- be his good girl.

You lifted your head from the pillow and cried out his name, fucking yourself back against his cock. He grinned, slapping your ass lighter than he usually would do it -- he wasn’t sure how you would take to it. When he felt you clench around him in response, he grinned. That was something worth looking into it seemed.

“Toshi…” you whined, reaching back to grip at his hip.

He hummed, slowing ever so slightly, “What is it, kitten?”

“Please…” you whined, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment over what you desperately wanted to ask him.

“Please what?” he whispered, kissing your shoulder blade again, “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“C-Call me...y-your goog girl again…” you whispered, immediately burying your face in your pillow.

He paused, eyes wide before another grin grew across his face. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you up until your back was pressed against his chest. You cried out, his cock stilling inside you as he pressed his lips against your ear.

“You like being praised huh?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder. He enjoyed the fucked out look on your face, “Like being my good girl, hm? Such a pretty, sweet girl for me…”

You whimpered, walls clenching around his still cock, “I-I love you Toshi…”

He hummed, reaching down to find your clit. Circling over the bud, you keened, eyes fluttering as your cunt clenched tight around him, “I know you do, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, your walls squeezed, clamping down tight. He groaned, cursing under his breath as he felt your body seize up in your orgasm, trembling and gushing around his cock. He pressed his lips against your shoulder, looking down to where his length was buried completely inside.

You began to rock yourself along his cock, your orgasm flying to new heights as he never stopped playing with your sensitive bud.

Suddenly, he watched with wide eyes as your cum squirted out, soaking the bed and your thighs.

“Shit,” he growled, providing a few quick slaps against your clit, making you squirt just a few more times, “What a good fucking girl you are. Look at the mess you made. You’re so perfect, I love you so much.”

Those words had you clenching once again. That finally sent him over the edge himself. He rocked into you, holding you tight against him. His cock throbbed, spitting hot cum into your sensitive cunt.

He cupped your breasts, groaning in the throes of his orgasm as he pressed kisses against your shoulder, neck, and cheek.

When he finally came down, he gently laid you on the bed, pulling his cock out. His cum gushed from your hole without his length to stop it. You cringed, the feeling unpleasant to say the least.

He got out of bed to go to the bathroom intending to get a cloth to clean you with.

When he was gone, you found yourself thinking about what just happened. One particular thought was on your mind and when he returned, you didn’t hesitate to voice it.

“W-We didn’t use a condom…” you mumbled.

He hummed, “Were we supposed to? I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am...it’s just…” you frowned, clearing your throat as you watched him wiped your thighs and sensitive folds free of your mixed cum.

“What?” he sat beside you, fixing you with a steady gaze, urging you to confess your thoughts to him.

“You were just...dating, you know...Aoi and…” you sighed, averting your gaze from him, “Other girls before.”

He chuckled, laying beside you, “What, you’re concerned I have something?”

“Well no...not necessarily…” you frowned as he cupped your cheek, making you look at him.

“If you must know…” he shrugged before continuing, “I always used a condom with them.”

“Really?” he nodded at your question, “Then...why with me?”

“Because you’re you,” he smiled, kissing your lips, pulling you to lay against his chest, “You’re the one for me, kitten. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Yes, Hitoshi Shinsou fell in love easily. But he never gave those girls his heart. He cried because he thought he could never have you. The truth was, you had always owned his heart. It had always been in your hands.

#bnha x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha smut #shinsou smut #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #mha smut #afton.writes

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alluringjae · 4 years ago

Text

queen of hearts - sjn

summary: for the first time, one of your star students hasn’t been fetched right after class. but when she finally does, you weren’t expecting such a fine man to be her father.

pairing: johnny x female reader

word count: 5.5k

genre: fluff, romance, comedy | ceo and single dad!johnny + ballerina!reader + modern day!au

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, johnny being an overthinker, sexual innuendos (ten saying dilf hehe), slight explicit language, technical terms of ballet, a mini reference to mean girls

author’s note: sooo i came in touch with my former dance life, which led me to write this. there are links for the variations i used; their names are underlined when they’re mentioned. i am going to get technical with ballet terms here (even when my ballet knowledge decreased), so to any dancers reading, i really did my best, so please don’t come for me or do correct me for any mistakes.

although one character and her dance background, plus the name of the setting, are real, everything else about it is still a work of fiction.

i miss dancing, no cap.

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Ballet student and teacher by day, a soloist of the Korean National Ballet at night.

This was your daily routine, and it wasn’t the typical 8-5. But it’s debatable whether or not it was worse, because you’re always going overtime. That’s the thing when you’re an overachiever. Nonetheless, you loved what you do. It’s the lifestyle you gradually built since your preschool days.

Mornings on the weekdays were mostly vacant since all the kids were still in school. You’d start at 10 am for a warm-up class for the company. Before you delved into teaching and assisting, you’d train right after your lunch break. Partnering class, en pointe class, 1-on-1 sessions with choreographers, self-practice, then the company night class, that’s the organization of your week.

Now adding the teacher title, you mostly handled kindergartners to 5th graders in the academy aspect of the company. Your first teaching class would start at 1 pm. It’s when the younger students who finished their morning classes zoom into your assigned dance studio. One class would last an hour and a half, then you have a 30-minute break in between another class with the older kids. Their lesson repertoire was more strenuous due to the added across-the-floor lessons and jumps. Water was always your best friend, water refilling stations located everywhere in the company building.

You wouldn’t say you’re a strict teacher, but you weren’t shy to correct anyone from wherever you stood. You’d lightly align their arms or back properly so your students were working on the correct body parts. Compared to the other teachers, a lot of students enjoyed your kind yet frank approaches. Your former students, who’ve already gone to the higher levels, missed your lively presence and wished repeatedly that they want you back as their teacher.

“Teacher (Y/N), I miss you so much! Teacher Ten is so intense. I get the jitters especially when we’re en pointe on the floor.”

“Teacher (Y/N), Teacher Sicheng and Teacher Seulgi scare the heck out of me during partnering class. Especially when I tried to lift my partner, I keep losing focus because of Teacher Sicheng’s never-ending comments!”

Not to be sadistic, but you’d simply laugh at their minuscule complaints. Even if they’re struggling in the academy, those comments were directed to fix their techniques if they wanted to breakthrough.

“Kids, you’re going to be fine! They wouldn’t say or do those things just because they wanted to. They’re here to push you to the next level, like how I used to do with you. It’s a cut-throat industry after all.”

This was always your reply, bittersweet and truthful. Not everyone makes it, unfortunately, so if you’re really striving, you’d do whatever it takes. Throughout your career, you’re relatively impressed with how far you’ve come.

Trainee at 17, Corps de Ballet at 18, Demi-Soloist at 21, and Soloist at 23.

You’ve been a soloist for 4 years. The final stage, which was to become a principal dancer, is your running goal. Becoming a soloist was praiseworthy enough because you’ve seen so many give up in the Corps, but claiming a spot as a principal dancer has been the ultimate dream. Since you’ve watched Swan Lake for the first time at 4 years old with your parents, that’s where you found a passion for dancing and the stage. Here you are years later, practicing numerous variations daily, performing in opera houses, and mentoring all these gifted kids.

Your last class with elementary kids, which began around 5 pm, reached its end once all the students curtsied in front of you and scurried to their mothers or their nannies. The remaining plan on your agenda today was the company class at 7:30 pm, which exceeds the average hour and a half. It’s worse during show season. There have been times everyone went beyond midnight to polish every scene from head to toe.

Currently, there’s no upcoming show for the public, though the annual summer recital for the students was around the corner. Selected members of the company were chosen to perform individually in it, which was both exciting and intense. It’s also because it’s an evaluation on whether you’d get promoted in status or staying put. You’ve partaken in 3 recitals in the past, two of which elevated you from the corps and demi-soloist ranks. The recent one, however, didn’t change your soloist ranking.

It was a major first in your career in ballet, and after finding out the result of the latter, it emotionally pained you. Recalling how much soul you put into that piece, the rejection from your artistic director clenched your heart. Though in time, you moved on from it and viewed it as a stepping stone. Also, Sicheng and Ten personally stormed your apartment to pull yourself together with wine and pizza after going on a short leave.

Since you were trainees, Sicheng and Ten were your best friends in and outside the company. Working daily to occasional barhopping, that’s your youth summed up. It wasn’t because you didn’t like the girls you’ve worked with (though a lot of them were fake and bitchy), but these two were frank and humorous as hell. Together, you’d help each other with your goals rather than be competitive. Over time, Ten leveled up to a principal dancer for 2 years running while you and Sicheng were still soloists. The way you’d watch Ten take all the big roles, that’s where you want to be one day.

Back in your last teaching class, the entire dance room was vacant. Since it’s mainly used for ballet classes, you’d either run through anything you’ve practiced from the company classes and polish it or warm up a little bit more.

Except for today, this was the only free time to sew a new pair of pointe shoes because your current ones were dead. Dead in a sense that the hard shell turned soft, which won’t be able to support you when you’re up on your toes. You’re not taking any risks of minor injuries especially when you’re in the current lineup of company members performing for this upcoming recital again. You have to prove to everyone that you deserve a position as a principal dancer.

As your legs sprawled in a half middle split, your sewing equipment laid in front of you like you’re about to perform surgery, a tiny girl stood by the ajar studio doors. In her neat bun and holding on to her small duffel bag, you’re convinced everyone has gone home already since it’s quite late.

You may have your priorities as a company member, but she was still your student.

“Minji!” You shouted her name, speedily waving your hand. You’re not one to have favorites, though you couldn’t help wonder how extraordinary she was. She’s always taking charge in demonstrating the lessons to everyone and improving every session in the 3 years she’s joined the academy. “Come in! Come in!”

At age 7, she’s gotten taller through the years, above the average from how you see it. She must have amazing genetics. Her legs sauntered in seconds to you. Sitting down across you, she marveled at your setup. Specifically, at the fresh pointe shoes.

“Are those yours, Teacher (Y/N)?” She perked up, caressing its soft fabric and playing with the mini bows of the drawstrings.

“Yes, it is, Minji!” You answered while trying to insert the thin thread through the small eye of the needle. “Why are you still here? Is your nanny stuck in traffic or something?”

“My nanny went on sudden leave, so my dad’s the one fetching me. But I think he’s running late from his job.”

Oh, this was a first to know about her father. In all the years she’s been your student, you rarely caught sight of him, even in recitals. Maybe he sat in an unknown section, but you’re pretty much acquainted with all the parents of your students. Even if some were snobbier than the rest because they wanted their child to have more stage time, you still got to know them out of respect. Quite odd, if you said so yourself.

After deep concentration, the thread triumphantly passed through the eye so you tied the two ends of the thread in a double knot. Seeing as Minji attentively watched you, you tasked her to cut the ribbons of your shoes according to the trail of pencil marks. This was so she wouldn’t cut it too short or too long. While she did that, you hammered your shoes against the floor to soften the hard front, bending the shank back and forth so the arch of your feet could move without difficulty later.

Minji wasn’t expecting such loud sounds, her entire body shaken awake. Her facial expression was priceless, explaining to her, “Once you get your first pointe shoes in a few years, this is one of the basic things you need to do so your feet won’t hurt too much while dancing.”

“Will you be there to teach me how to make my pointe shoes?”

“Absolutely! Come to me first then I’ll mentor you all that I know.”

The process of sewing and breaking new pointe shoes engraved your mind since your adolescent years, with changes along the way. Inspired by some tricks from your former teachers, but there were some differing rituals you followed. There’s no definite process of it, just as long you’re comfortable to dance after.

With your feet, you stepped on the hard boxes of the shoes to soften it more, creating a popping sound. Followed by sewing your elastic bands in. For your ribbons, you liked to burn the edges with a lighter so the thread of it won’t run. Kindly asking your cute assistant for the lighter beside her, you scanned the edges back and forth the flame. In seconds, the edges had a distinct mark, fully closed. From there, you slid your feet to your shoes to make final sewing adjustments. Sewing your ribbons took you another few minutes, plus adding superglue inside the shoe so the shoe won’t collapse when it unstiffens and scratching the shank with a cutter so you won’t slip later while dancing.

Voila, the final product is done! Hopefully, it can last you a week at least.

“Wow, Teacher (Y/N), it looks pretty!” Minji applauded, collecting the mess you’ve both made to dispose of later. You, on the other hand, gave her your thanks once you applied some bandages on your big toes and put on your toe pads. Slipping inside the shoes and tying them, you rose up back to your feet and headed to the bar to break them in. From plies-relevésto forced arches, the shoes gave you the sensation that they were an extension of your feet. The ease flowed through, meaning you were ready to practice your variations.

While you stepped your shoes in rosin for friction, your curious student moved to the front where the mirror lied to watch what you’ve prepared.

“What variation are you dancing to?”

“This is the Gamzatti variation from La Bayadere.” You replied, tapping the play button on your phone and racing to your position on the side. Talking a short ballet walk, you strongly prepared your arms before the music of the orchestra takes off.

This variation consisted of a lot of jumps and turns. Grand jetés, attitude turns, chaîné turns, you needed a lot of core control and proper spotting so you won’t get dizzy. The thrilling music lessened your nerves because you enjoyed learning this piece from one of the principal dancers, smiling and letting the music guide your legs. Once you nailed 3 consecutive grand jetés, the variation ended with a sus-sous and the wrists of your hands flicking upwards.

Holding it for 5 more seconds, you landed back on your feet with heavy breathing and a need for water. But before you could, small claps and cheers from Minji in front erupted. Momentarily, you’ve forgotten her presence because dancing solo puts you in your own space. You’d never let anyone take you away from it.

“Teacher (Y/N), that was wonderful! Are you performing that in the summer recital?”

Yikes, she’s right but she wasn’t meant to see it yet. Solo performances from the company members for the recital were top secret, only unveiled during the production rehearsal. Well, you didn’t think this through, but you didn’t mind.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Time ticked a lot faster today, only 10 minutes left until the company class on the ground floor whereas you were in the second. Just a few steps down the stairs away, yet Minji was still here. You only presumed that within your hour break, her father could’ve made it already. But maybe he’s stuck in traffic or at work.

“Minji, my class starts soon. Have you contacted your father?”

“I already texted him earlier, but he hasn’t responded. This happens often, he’s a busy man.” She bowed in front of you suddenly. “I’m sorry, Teacher (Y/N) for the hassle.”

“Oh no, please!” You shook your hands so she’d stop. Because this situation was relatively new, you were unsure of how to handle it. Or that was until you remembered what Ten texted you earlier. “Minji, the blinds of the main studio are going to be lifted so anyone from the outside can view us practicing. Would you like to watch until your dad gets here?”

With her insistent nodding, she situated herself in one of the seats in the front row. When you entered the main studio, your two close companions already carried a metal barre to the center and leaned towards it while observing you walking to them in your flat shoes.

“I see we have a bit of an audience here.” Ten glimpsed at the young girl, astonished by the many dancers prepping and chatting away with their cliques from the glass barrier.

“Her dad isn’t here yet, and you did say the blinds were up today. Might as well give her a show while she waits, you know.” You lifted your right leg to the top barre, stretching it with your arms.

“Hmmm, shouldn’t her dad be more cautious though? It’s getting late and it’s a Thursday. Doesn’t she have school or something?” Sicheng pointed out, discarding his muscle tee to straighten out his leotard.

“That’s not my business though. She’s just my student, and since she’s still here, I have to entertain her while she waits.”

Before your friends said anything back, the artistic director of the ballet company strutted her way to the center of the room. It’s a common rule here that once she entered, everyone must be silent to listen and race to any free spot in the numerous barres spread out if they haven’t.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll do the typical barre, then before doing across the floor exercises, I’ll be requesting those performing solos already in the recital to dance any variation tonight as another evaluation on who deserves to perform twice.” She eyed the pianist directly beside her. “Proceed first with two demi-pliés then one grand plié. Don’t forget to do the port de bras of each position.”

As the live piano music played, your focus was divided. Partly properly executing the exercise while your artistic director roamed each barre area, partly thinking about what variation to perform. This was a first for the company, and everyone was just stunned to hear the breaking news. It’d be nice to get an extra opportunity to showcase to people your potential.

30-40 minutes flew by quickly. As the guys carried the bars to the side to clear out the floor and the girls changed to their pointe shoes, the artistic director ordered all the performers of the recitals to stand in a line in front of her. Everyone else was seated around the room, so the interested eyes of everyone were on you. There were 10 performers, half are from the corps and the other half are either demi-soloists or soloists. You and Sicheng stood beside each other, internally shaking with nerves under the intimidating eyes of the artistic director. She used to be a principal dancer for the Stuttgart Ballet in Germany before moving back to Seoul, making her undeniably capable of leading all of you.

“Okay,” From her seated position observing the 10 performers, her finger pointed at you directly. “Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), you perform first.”

Your nerves intensified and more sweat streamed out your upper body. Even if going first felt more relieving, no one was ever brave enough to perform individually in front of the esteemed artistic director. Principal dancers aside from Ten that you’re close with were intimidated when they have 1-on-1 or partnering sessions with her. But anyhow, in less than 2 minutes, you’d be done. This wasn’t the first time she’s had your full attention either, so you’ll treat it like the other individual performances you’ve had.

You smiled to yourself when the other soloists left you alone, while you gave the name of the variation you’re dancing to the pianist. Running to the side to put on a practice tutu, the artistic director asked, “What will you be dancing for us tonight, (Y/N)?”

“I’ll be dancing Queen of the Dryads from Don Quixote.”

The last time you did this variation was 3 years ago during the recital that didn’t change your position as a soloist. Even if this variation hurt to think about for a while, it was still one of your favorites to watch and do. Moving on, you could only muse how powerful and beautiful you felt at that time. This isn’t an easy piece to perform in your opinion. Yet according to the members of the company, this was their favorite solo of yours.

As the starting notes unfolded, you took a deep breath and elegantly walked into the frame. You only wished you wore your fake crown again for this. Minimal smiling and light arms, you imagined yourself as an actual queen who captured the eyes of many. In this case, your fellow seniors and juniors held their breaths at the captivating sight of you.

Off you go into a series of glissade jeté developpé on relevé at elevating heights, then a fouetté arabesque and another arabesque on relevé before ballet walking again to the side to dance across the stage. Sissonne to the front, right developpé to the front on relevé, pique to prepare for a single pirouette, you gracefully did a chassé to the front twice and stood on your toes with a sus-sous.

Doing it a few more times, the climax of the entire variation was nearing. Returning to the center, you took another deep breath and lifted your left leg for the Italian fouettés. Spotting to the front and back while maintaining your balance, the variation approached its end with lame duck turns, posing with your arms were positioned at a 45-degree angle, your back slightly arched and your left leg doing a tendu derriére. Your eyes reflected at the mirror in front, surveying your alignment. Once your 5-second hold was finished, you properly put your arms down and closed your back leg into 5th position.

The applause from everyone in the room roared, Ten and Sicheng wolf-whistling even for more support. It’s a usual thing every time any of you perform individually, and no one minded it. The artistic director grinned, giving a quiet clap from the front before calling out the next performer, who was from the corps. Bowing to everyone hastily, you paid more attention to spot your student by the window. She was smiling ear to ear, waving both hands at you.

“You did amazing, Teacher!” She mouthed. Hearing words of praise from members was one thing, but hearing them from students was another. You’re so used to watching them and giving them your compliments that you often forget that you’re a dancer first before a teacher. Seeing them all delighted, saying that it motivates them more, showed that you’re doing a great job teaching them. You’re a reflection of what you pass down, and all you want was for them to be the best they could be.

From her jolly expression, a tall masculine silhouette hovered a part of the window. Her instinct of giving a brighter smile when the hand of said silhouette patted her head then carried her duffel bag again, that could only mean one thing. Excusing yourself to the artistic director, you stepped out to bid your goodbye and maybe meet her father. Minji and the tall man were about to leave the building if it weren’t for your breathy voice calling them out.

“Seo Minji and Mr. Seo?”

They stopped their tracks. Minji was fast to react, familiar with your voice and racing towards you for a sweaty hug. Meanwhile, your focus shifted once the masculine silhouette came into full view. You finally understood why Minji’s growth spurt spiked up, noticing that he was taller than Sicheng.

The top buttons of his shirt were off, yet he kept his formal blazer on. His hair was a bit tousled, some strands falling in front of his forehead. He must’ve run here. Peeking through were some roots of his scruff growing. His eyebags were almost as dark as his brown hair. Yet by the way his Rolex remained spotless, you blatantly assumed that he was more than well-off. Especially when the ballet academy was one of the most prestigious ones in Seoul.

Out of all the parents you’ve met, none of them appeared youthful like him.

“Teacher (Y/N)?” Thanks to Minji, you moved your staring eyes away from him. This was another first, since meeting only the fathers of your students wasn’t your norm. Meeting young-looking fathers, to be specific.

“O-Oh,” You ate your words, suddenly blanking out. “You’re leaving me without saying goodbye, Minji? Not polite of you.”

“My father was rushing right after watching your performance, and I don’t know why.” She responded, her finger scratching the top of her head in confusion. Speaking of said father, his strong presence appeared right in front of you. The wrinkles of his forehead creased while his eyes barely looked at yours.

“Uhm,” His fingers toyed with his Rolex. “I apologize for my tardiness. I got caught up in work and all, plus her nanny le-”

“Mr. Seo.” You halted his rambling, already aware of the situation. Like father, like daughter. “It’s fine. Minji loved watching us practice while waiting, and she wasn’t a bother either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Phew.” He swiped an imaginative bead of sweat from his forehead, displaying his relief with his playful nature.

At age 23, Johnny Seo started his own company in the fashion scene and it grew internationally in the coming years. Then when Minji unexpectedly joined the picture, he’s been multi-tasking to make ends meet. Lately, as a CEO, he has had meetings and conferences on a daily. So, his position as a single father was always tested. It worsened when he rarely has proper time to spend any time with Minji unless it’s the weekend or late in the evening. Breaking it down, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to meet you. It was more like he couldn’t when his schedules were packed from head to toe.

Having the guilt of taking your precious time, “Seriously though, I am sorry for being late. Her nanny resigned suddenly, and I have no time to find her replacement.”

“Mr. Seo, again, don’t worry about it. As her teacher and a company member, I am practically here 24/7 so it won’t be a nuisance at all if this happens again.”

“Thank you so much, Teacher (Y/N). That is your name, right?” He planted his palm on his forehead, stressed. “Being a single parent is hard. I am always forgetting things.”

A part of you couldn’t restrain from feeling sorry for his struggle. Taking care of a child should be the work of both the mother and father, not one of them being absent. You’ve feared this would harm Minji, but she’s a strong girl.

“The fact you didn’t forget to fetch Minji despite the late time is still something to be happy over. I’m not a parent or anything, but parenting, in general, is a challenge.” You added an insight, patting the head of the young girl beside you. “Cut yourself some slack, Mr. Seo. I’m sure Minji still loves you, right?”

Minji shouted a big yes, now clinging to the leg of her father. “It’s okay, dad. Really.”

Over the years, Johnny has been doubtful of his parenting skills. He was an only child, and he struggled to ask for guidance from his own parents due to the shame of having a kid at a young age. So, he’d ask for help from his other friends and co-workers. No matter how many times they’ve reassured him that he’s doing well, he’s an overthinker who always reflected on the bad scenarios. There’s also that pressure to find someone who can fill that absent position not just for Minji, but for himself too. No matter how many girls he’s asked out or been set up with, he failed in the love department badly.

It’s the soothing way you voiced out your truth that made all these negative thoughts running through his head freeze briefly. Over the past 3 years since Minji started ballet, she always had a great story about you to share. One of them was how ballet made her a lot happier because of your influence. If he had at least an hour of his day to meet any of his daughter’s mentors, it would’ve been you.

“Do feel free to call me Johnny instead.” He casually introduced himself, taking his hand out for you to shake. “Mr. Seo makes me feel like I’m at work right now.”

Despite his informal approach, you understood his intentions and returned the action with a promising smile. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Johnny.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Teacher (Y/N).”

Earlier, the nerves from performing in front of the artistic director died down fast. But for some reason, they rose back up when you’ve spoken to this man in a matter of minutes. As someone whose feelings don’t flourish in a single glance, why did this man specifically deliver you such a strong effect?

If it weren’t for Ten calling for your name by the door, you would’ve held on to Johnny’s hand longer, which would’ve been inappropriate. Letting go first, this was your cue to return to your class.

“I must head back inside, Johnny. Don’t sweat on fetching your daughter late, though she is still a student with school the following day. Right, Minji?”

Minji nodded as Johnny kept that mind, knowing where he has to improve next. “Yes, Teacher (Y/N). Thank you again, sincerely. I’ll definitely see you again in the coming days until Minji has a new nanny.”

“That’s no problem with me at all, Johnny.”

Soon as Johnny held his daughter’s hand to exit the studio and you were re-entering the studio with an impatient Ten, he swerved swiftly as if he forgot something.

“Oh by the way Teacher (Y/N), I saw your whole performance awhile ago. I was blown away, you deserved the applause.”

Although you could only distinguish his silhouette, you didn’t suppose he watched you from head to toe. Most parents or nannies would’ve dragged their kids out of the studio once they find them like they were on a tight schedule, so this was novel to experience. That performance showed your prime too.

“Thank you, Johnny. See you again soon.”

Giving a final nod, you led yourself back to the studio, not bothering to acknowledge the erupting heat on your cheeks and entire body. Not to sound narcissistic, but compliments weren’t foreign to you. You’re conscious of the hard work that you put in your talent and if they pointed out your greatness, why would you deny it? However, receiving one from Johnny was like gearing your engine with new fuel.

Before you could try to reject these harboring feelings, Ten was fast to pick up on it. You cannot hide anything from this man at all because body language was like another language he’s fluent in (aside from the other 5). Unlucky for you, the saga continued.

“You’re so into dilfs, (Y/N)!” He shrieked in your ear, nudging your shoulder repetitively. He placed things in his own way, yet they always shocked you because it was so inappropriate. Typical Ten for you.

“Shut up, Ten!” You objected, watching the other performers. You’ve improved in ignoring his remarks over time. That was until Sicheng sat down beside you after his solo and got up in your business. That placed you in the middle of boys from the water sign clan of astrology. They just loved getting down to your love life, going raunchy and whatnot.

“Who’s into dilfs, Ten?”

“A Miss (Y/N) beside you, who met Minji’s dad awhile ago, was basically eye-fucking him.” Ten elaborated, planting his elbows on your leg and gave you a sneaky glare. “Minji’s dad is fine as fuck, guys! I’m telling you, like a literal god! I’m surprised this is the first time he showed up here after 2-3 years?”

“How come (Y/N) is always getting students with good-looking parents? Especially the single moms.” Sicheng slumped his shoulders, attempting to get your attention too. “Is he that hot, (Y/N)?”

“Yah.” Sighing with annoyance, you’ve given up trying to appreciate one of the corps dancers with her rendition of Dulcinea from Don Quixote. “Don’t speak of Johnny like that. You barely know the man, yet you talk about him so unprofessionally."

“Oh, Johnny is his name, huh?” Sicheng sing-songed, bobbing his head. He’s certainly going to stalk him later on social media, you felt it in your chest. Like it was ESPN or something.

“Talking about being unprofessional, yet you’re here referring him as Johnny, not Mr. Seo.” Ten barked back, his lips pursed and one eyebrow lifted.

Just as soon as you could retaliate, the artistic director’s velvety voice boomed the room.

“Alright, thank you to the performers. I will deliberate with the staff and principal dancers over the weekend, and let you know the results on Monday. Now please, let’s proceed to the center.”

Everyone began to spread out on the wide floor, snatching a good position so they could monitor themselves in the mirror. Maybe you’ll defend yourself later after class because now, you needed to beat everyone else and have a crystal-clear view of yourself doing these following exercises.

In the meantime, Johnny was in the middle of driving Minji home. He had a designated chauffeur, but he gave him the night off because he wanted to spend time with Minji. Around this time, she’d be sleeping soundly, but instead, she’s boosting with so much life. She hasn’t even eaten dinner yet, which was the first thing on Johnny’s agenda now.

Playing Coldplay in the car, Minji belted some lyrics from her favorite songs while Johnny smiled to himself while listening to her attentively. Taking a breath, her thoughts reverted to her fantastic ballet teacher and shared them with her father.

“Dad! Don’t you just think Teacher (Y/N) is so cool? Ugh, I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

“Oh, to become a ballerina like her, you have to work hard every day and memorize lessons fast. Are you up for it, Minji?”

“Absolutely, dad! I want to pull off perfect jumps and turns like her one day!”

In the other after-school activities Johnny enrolled Minji in the past, none of them compared to the passion she had for ballet. Her work ethic was alike to Johnny’s: if they want something, they’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible.

Aside from being a star student in her school, she’s aiming to be a star ballerina. Being the supportive father he is, Johnny was on board to do what it takes to make it happen. Unlike his parents trying to mold him into the next heir of their company, he’s all ears to the dreams of his daughter. His only dream for her was to be live long and happy, not to merely pass on anything.

Johnny lost so much in his young life, so he doesn’t want to lose Minji in any way. As much as he loves his profession, he wanted to be an active father as much as time allowed it. He mostly received complaints from others that he’s not prioritizing his time well, but after hearing your kind words, this heavy weight on his shoulders decreased. All this doubt started to vanish after meeting you for the first time.

“Dad! Isn’t Teacher (Y/N) so beautiful?” Minji honored whilst gazing at the twinkling night sky. “She loves what she does and shines at it.”

Johnny was accustomed to his female co-workers throwing themselves at him due to his attractiveness, more than flattered even to have them feeling weak for him. Yes, there were times he used it to his advantage, some he frankly turned down.

However, the radiance you carried whether you’re dancing or not was something Johnny couldn’t cease wondering about. Unknown to him, he’s the one getting weak. Behold, an unlocked first for the confident CEO.

“Yes, Minji. I do think Teacher (Y/N) is absolutely beautiful.”

470 notes · View notes

doctenwho · 3 years ago

Text

Hangovers, Love and Space Vodka (PE Pt. 2)

Hello! Requests are definitely open, even if I’m awfully slow! I feel bad at how slow these are coming out especially since there’s so many in waiting, but writing just hasn’t been on the table recently. Apologies for that!

But I’ve found the time and the motivation, so I decided to get this done! Thank you for your patience! This is such a cute idea, and it always makes me happy that people like the first parts enough to request a continuation. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you readers like it too!

So, please enjoy the continuation of Purest Expression (also, you should probably read that one if you haven’t already, this fic heavily references it!) Also, I just thought the name was funny and I was in desperate need for one, so feel free to suggest others if you’ve got one!

Warnings: Talk of alcohol, but no drinking!

Word Count: 4,050

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the talented creator!)

You didn’t really remember a lot when you woke up. All you really knew was you'd drank far too much of that delicious cocktail, and that your brain was pounding in your head. This was quite possibly one of the worst hangovers you’d had, but honestly, you’d do it all over again to have another one of those space cocktails.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your hands to cover your eyes in an attempt to block out what little light managed to stream into the room. Your stomach churned at the movement, but it settled out easily enough after you didn’t move a muscle for a few minutes following your roll.

You relaxed back into the bed when your stomach settled down, and finally uncovered your eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a bleary gaze.

As you laid there, you tried to piece together the evening. The bits and pieces between arriving and having enough to drink that you could no longer walk a straight line.

You knew you’d gone out on the town with the Doctor—he'd been excited to show you things. He'd raved enthusiastically about the planet, and you’d listened along as your own excitement grew too. Then, you remember finally stepping out of the TARDIS and being completely astounded by this new planet, with all its colours, music and general liveliness.

The cute little bar wedged between two buildings; you remember that too. And of course, you remember the cocktail—you'd had two, or three, or... had it been four? You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The Doctor had said it was weaker than earth vodka, and maybe it was, but the after effects were definitely more intense to a human that human vodka was. That said you’d still be down for another drink or two before you left.

It was well worth the pain of a hangover to taste that drink again. Just the thought of it made your tastebuds tingle.

You let out a light laugh before rolling back over onto you side, but this time following it up with pulling yourself to a sitting position. The nausea was still there, but hardly noticeable; just a subtle warning to keep your movements slow and steady lest you start gagging.

Your head was still pounding, but you knew that wasn’t going to go away without pain killers, so you stumbled to your feet to go find the Doctor. He’d have something that could help, and at this point, you didn’t care what planet it came from, so long as it killed the raging headache and... well, didn’t kill you.

You found the Doctor in the kitchen of all places.

He was perched at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, as well as a book. He startled when you stepped into the room, breathing a light, “oh, (Y/N),” as a greeting.

You continued into the room, wobbling on your feet for just a second, “good morning,” you greeted in return, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the headache, “you don’t happen to have any pain killers do you?”

The Doctor frowned, “are you unwell?”

“Just a bit of a hangover,” you promised with a wave of your hand, “a little worse than an earth alcohol hangover, but it’s manageable. I’ll be fine, my head just really hurts.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor nodded, pushing himself up and moving towards the cupboards. He rifled around the cabinets, reading labels of things and putting them back before he finally found what he was looking for, “these aren’t of your earth, but they are basically the same thing as your planet’s Advils. I’m sorry I don’t have anything that’ll help from your earth, I should really invest in some if I’m going to keep soliciting companions from earth.”

“Soliciting?” You snorted a laugh, which made you wince lightly, “really?”

“Well, I do tempt you humans away with the offer of the entirety of the universe, now, don’t I?” You smiled at the Doctor’s cheeky grin as he joined you at your side, setting the pill bottle in front of you to do with as you pleased, whether that was to ignore it, or take a couple, before he carried on to the counter. “No different really, I offer the universe in exchange for companionship, and I’m proud to say very few have ever declined. Now, would you like a tea, or coffee?”

“Jokes on the ones who declined, they’re really missing out,” you huffed out as you picked up the pill bottle, surveying over the list of ingredients. None looked too out of the world, but honestly, you’d do anything at this point to ease the thrum of your headache, so you uncapped the bottle, “surprise me.”

The Doctor turned back to flash you a grin from where he’d busied himself at the counter, “will do, my Dear.”

You shook a few pills into your hand from the bottle, eyeing them as if they were about to change colours or something similarly alien-like, but when none of that happened, you frowned, “how many do I take?”

“Well...” the Doctor turned thoughtfully to lean against the counter, “I’d say to start off with one and see if it does anything for you. There will be small differences from planet to planet, and we wouldn’t want you to overdose. After a half an hour you can try taking another pill if one doesn’t help.”

“Sounds good,” you popped a single pill into your mouth before you could hesitate. As if the Doctor was magic, he slid a mug of you go-to morning beverage towards you, and you washed the pill down with a sip of the perfectly prepared drink.

You savored the taste of your drink, sighing into the warmth. When you’d had a couple sips, you put the cap back on the pill bottle and slid the bottle to the center of the table. You watched the Doctor move around the small kitchen as he made himself another coffee before joining you at the table.

The two of you settled into a silence, thankfully. You hunched over the table, your elbows on the surface and your cheeks cupped in your palms, as the Doctor continued reading, but he looked like he was lost in his thoughts instead of actually reading.

“How long have you been up?” you asked slowly, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking them open again to see the Doctor’s gaze on you. “You’re kinda spacing out.”

“I’ve just... some things on my mind,” the Doctor admits with a tiny curl upwards of his lips. It didn’t really answer the question, but at the same time it did. You didn’t think the Doctor had even gone to sleep. “Has the headache eased at all?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape noticing suddenly that the headache was in fact almost gone. You hadn’t even realized, “yeah,” you informed with a laugh, “almost gone. I didn’t even notice—space things are so much better than earth things; the drugs and alcohol.”

“That would be a very worrying observation if I didn’t know exactly what you were talking about,” the Doctor snorted a laugh. You laughed along too, even if the statement was completely true—it had only been about ten minutes and the space Advil was already working wonders, where as the earth stuff could take anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to actually kick in.

“So,” you drawled after another string of comfortable silence between the two of you, “what’s been on you mind then?”

The Doctor eyed you up and down briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair and making his already untamed locks stand up at odder angles, “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” you parroted under your breath. You’d been thinking about yesterday too. How could you not be? There were still gaps in time where you don’t really remember what happened. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” The Doctor blinked.

“No, I do,” you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, “well, most of it, I think. But some of it... I don’t know? It’s kind of a blur. I guess the cocktails started hitting me towards the end of the evening, I barely remember coming back.”

“You were a bit out of it,” the Doctor admits sheepishly, “glad I cut you off at three drinks then.”

“I could’ve handled more,” you scoffed, smiling widely in a teasing way.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, leaning forwards, closer to you as his voice dropped, “I do believe three is probably your limit, Love.”

You let out a bout of bright laughter and the Doctor smiled softly. You loved how easy it was to banter with the man—how the two of you were so comfortable with the other that you could tease back and forth like this.

As if to prove his point, your head gave a warning thrum of pain that drew a shallow breath from you, “yeah,” you shook the pain off, “you’re probably right about three being my space-cocktail limit.”

The Doctor shook his head fondly at you as he settled back in his chair, “so, anything you’d like to know about yesterday? I did promise I’d tell you anything you’d like to know?”

You thought back to what you remembered about yesterday: the walk from the TARDIS to the bar, the ideal seating at the bar, those amazing rainbow cocktails that tasted like dreams. Drinking and chatting and laughing with the Doctor—splitting a plate of chips that were unbelievably delicious... and then... well, the space English the TARDIS didn’t bother translating for you.

“What was the bartender saying to you?”

The Doctor drew in a breath as his cheeks dusted the faintest pink, “nothing important, I assure.”

“C’mon,” you pouted, cradling your half drank, significantly cooled drink between your hands as you leaned towards the Doctor this time, “you said you promised to tell me about yesterday, right?”

The man chewed at his lip, subdued, but clearly trying to figure out the best course of action, “alright, well, we... I suppose we were acting a tad bit... involved? And... some assumptions were made about us by the barkeep.”

“Involved how?” you raised a questioning eyebrow. “And... what kind of assumptions?”

“Involved involved,” the Doctor cleared his throat, eyeing your level of understanding before rubbing his forehead and adding, “uhm, romantically involved. Those were, well, the main assumptions made as well.”

You gaped for a second before a thought came back to you suddenly, “he kept calling us lovers.”

“Yes,” the Doctor managed a light, fond smile, “I did try to explain it to him: us, our companionship—but, well, he... he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t believe you?” You repeated back, surprised.

“No,” the Doctor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he made some pretty solid points in favor of us being romantically involved too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “and what points might those be?”

“Well, we were sitting fairly close--”

“As friends do,” the excuse came easily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued on like you hadn’t spoken.

“--I was hovering close to you, I suppose... A bit at least--”

“You were worried about me,” you interjected with a fond eyeroll at how wrong the bartender had been. Lovers? Come on, no way. You guys were... you were friends. Obviously. Though the thought of the Doctor hovering over you, making sure you were okay warmed your heart.

“--we leaned into each other’s sides, uhm, multiple times throughout the evening--”

You struggled for an excuse for that one, you did tend to lean into his space, not that the Doctor ever seemed to mind. And he liked to press into your personal space as well—neither of you really cared about proximity, so you managed a one shouldered shrug, “it was just loud in the bar, hard to hear each other.”

“--and, well, he pointed out I was staring at you occasionally; odd for him to have noticed, when I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that made your breath catch in the weirdest way. He’d been staring at you? Why did that make you feel so happy?

“And then the fact that you returned the stare when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, that barkeep spent more time watching us than he did working last night, I’m sure.” The Doctor let out a playful scoff, genuinely amused that the bartender had put more time into them than his job.

You however, were suddenly caught up in the information.

He’d been staring at you when you weren’t looking—fondly, you were sure, if it had caught the bartender’s attention and led him to believe the two of you were in a relationship. Then there was the fact that you were staring at him in return? You’d been caught by someone staring at the Doctor? You knew you did it sometimes, how could you not? He was a good-looking, kind, compassionate man who liked your company. Just being with him made your heart speed up.

“That doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” you forced yourself to say, even if... well, you were questioning it just slightly. You knew, of course, that the two of you weren’t a couple but... “That bartender was just bored and looking too far into us, I’m sure he was doing it to everyone...”

“Of course not, surely we’d know if we were, right?” the Doctor agreed with a light grin. The grin only lingered for a second before it faltered and he chewed at his bottom lip. You were about to question it, but he spoke again before you could, “but, well, I suppose there is the song he had to go off of as well.”

“The song?” You questioned before it all flooded back—well, most of it, at least, “we were on a stage. We... we sang together. Was that a karaoke bar or something?”

“We were,” the Doctor ducked his head in a nod, “we... did. And it, well, it was kind of like your earth karaoke bar. Do you remember anything about it?”

You tried to remember, you know the Doctor explained it last night after he’d gotten the information from the barkeeper, but you still don’t really know. And you’re sure there were bits and pieces that he didn’t tell you last night as well. So, you shook your head.

“Right,” the man nodded, settling his elbows on the tabletop as he held his chin up, “well, the concept of the song ritual we were roped into performing is that you sing whatever song best corresponds to what you think about your peer. I’m not exactly sure how it works to be honest, the expression through song is just strong.”

“So, whatever I felt about you would be... conveyed through a song?”

“Yes.” The Doctor gives a light nod.

“And whatever you felt about me would... would also be?”

“Indeed,” his head tilts as he surveys you, trying to piece together where you were going with this string of questions.

“But... we sang a duet, didn’t we?” You furrowed your eyebrows, running a finger along the rim of your mug. You faintly remembered chiming in with the Doctor’s song, instantly knowing the new lines to his song despite not knowing his lines, or the actual song. “Does that happen? What... what does it mean?”

“Well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking nervous. “It does happen, it’s just, well, it’s rare? I suppose. The barkeeper, just before we left, told me that the last time he saw a duet happen during the expression through song ceremony was when he was a child.”

“Wow, okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what it meant, and the thought made your cheeks heat up, but you asked anyways, “what does a duet mean?”

“Well, generally speaking...” the Doctor shot you a small, crooked smile, “it means that we feel exactly the same way about each other. Exactly the same to the point that our expression would be through the same song, at the same time.”

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but repeat, “that’s... wow. So it really is unusual then? Why did it happen to us? Was it a fluke?”

“No, don’t think so,” the Doctor shakes his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as his fingers tap against the table, “something like that would be hard to fake, so I doubt it was a fluke. We chose the song—deep in our subconscious when thinking of the other... I mean... I didn’t know the lyrics beforehand, did you?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers fiddling with your empty mug, “I don’t even think I remember the lyrics now. They were just... in my head when they needed to be. I didn’t even know your lines of the song. It’s weird that we were the people that got the duet—random visitors.”

“It was the same for me,” the Doctor sends you a small smile, “I think few people view their... companion the same way their companion views them. It seems highly unlikely that any two people can feel the exact same way...”

You’re not sure why, but there’s something different about the way the Doctor says companion this time around. Maybe he holds a different fondness than you’re used to, or perhaps some other reason, but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in the word.

“But we did,” you whisper, looking up momentarily and catching the Doctor’s eyes before dropping your gaze back to your cup.

“But we did,” the Doctor repeats, just slightly louder than you. Like he too can’t wrap his brain around it. There’s a pause before the Doctor’s clearing his throat, forcing a crooked smile onto his lips. “Well, I promised you we head to the shops for some alcohol and other treats, didn’t I?”

The Doctor stands, moving swiftly towards the door without looking back.

“I meant it, you know?” You speak before you even realize you’re speaking. You don’t see the Doctor stop, since you’re facing the other direction, but you hear his steps come to a halt, feet planting in spot.

He doesn’t say anything for a second, which prompts you on, “I do need you.”

He still doesn’t say anything, or move, so you stand and gather both your mug and his own, walking in the opposite direction from him towards the sink. You set the mugs in but don’t touch the faucet, instead mumbling a soft, “I want you.”

You’re not even sure if he’d still there anymore, or if he’d taken you moving as his cue to escape. You don’t turn to look, afraid to not find him there, so instead you whisper what little of your lyrics from yesterday that you remember, “come on back to me.”

Another moment of silence drags in before you hear the Doctor moving. His steps are quick, and you think he’s leaving out the door when suddenly hands are on your waist and he’s swiftly turning you around and gently pushing you against the edge of the counter beside the sink.

You manage to muffle your surprise as his lips press against yours, soft but urgently all the same.

You melt into his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands leave your waist, one wrapping around your middle, as the other rises to cup at your jaw. It spurs you on too, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him just slightest bit close, to which he blindly follows your lead.

You don’t pull away until the need to breath outweighs how good it feels to be kissing him.

You both gasp for breath, but neither of you pull away, lips still touching the faintest bit, “I didn’t think you even remembered the lyrics... how... intimate the duet was...” It’s the first thing the Doctor’s said since trying to flee the room.

You slowly open your eyes, catching his eyes waiting to make contact and a smile pulls at your lips. You pull away a bit, pushing your forehead against his, “I didn’t really remember the lyrics until just now, but I never forgot the feeling of singing them to you, and hearing you singing them back to me.”

The arm around your waist tightens around you, “I didn’t know you felt the same way,” the Doctor whispers. “I didn’t want to... make you uncomfortable, or chase you away. And then you woke up this morning, and didn’t remember anything with the hangover, so I... was going to let it go.”

You’re sure you make a noise of protest, maybe even disappointment, but you only assume because the Doctor lets out a chuckle before stealing another kiss that you’re more than happy to give.

When he goes to pull back, you snake your hand up to hold him in place, mumbling softly against his lips the last of your lyrics, a message he’d sure to understand, “I love you sundown.”

The Doctor freezes against you pulling back just enough to look into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face. You smile at his smile, watching him fondly as his head tilts in that adorable way, affection bright in his eyes, “and I, you, my Love.”

You melt at the words leaning into him and pressing your head against his chest, fitted perfectly under his chin like a puzzle piece. Your arms wrap around him, and his move to hold you against himself just as you had done to him seconds earlier.

You stay like that for a while—you're not sure how long. You feel protected tucked against the Doctor, and it’s a feeling you’re never going to forget.

“How’s your head?” he asks softly above you, the voice after so long of nothing by his steady heart beats startles you. The Doctor presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

“Better,” you decide, nuzzling closer to him, “why?”

“Well, I did promise we’d check out the shops, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I almost forgot about that,” you laugh, finally pulling away. The Doctor unwraps his hand begrudgingly, frowning as he does so. You let out a laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I wanna see the shops before we leave this evening. We’ve gotta get some of that vodka.”

“I see more hangovers in your near future,” the Doctor snorts as he leads you along by the hand.

“Oh, and, we should definitely pick up a gift for the bartender from last night,” you add, ignoring the Doctor’s teasing jab at your weak human alcohol tolerance.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, without his instance that we sing, and his instance that we were a couple, none of this,” you gesture down to your interlocked hands as the two of you step out of the TARDIS and onto the busy, colourful streets, “would’ve happened.”

The Doctor’s quiet for a second as the two of you fall into step. “There’s nothing in the universe that can ever thank him enough for what he’s done,” the man softly admits, giving your hand an adoring squeeze that drives his words home.

Your cheeks heat up as you tuck yourself in his side. He moves easily to accommodate you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders instead. You move your hand to squeeze around his waist, grinning as you respond cheekily, “I don’t know, Doctor, the space vodka is pretty good...”

The man sputters at your response, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow, “I was being all cute and you’re comparing the gift of our newfound relationship to vodka?” the man questions, genuinely dumbfounded.

You give a one shouldered shrug at his side, giggling at his reaction. It wasn’t long until the man was letting out a fond sigh, thumb stroking against your collarbone, “what am I going to do with you?”

The tease in his words has you smiling. There really is nothing in the universe that seems equivalent to the gift the bartender bestowed to you, but... yeah, a bottle of space vodka was a nice start.

<><><><>

Hello again! Hopefully you liked this continuation. Not sure if it kept to the prompt exactly, I got a bit carried away writing it, but nonetheless, I hope it was good! Feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for, as always!

I’ll try to keep up with the prompts but idk how well I’ll be able to manage between life and the other works in other fandoms. Anyways, hope you have a great morning/day/night!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10 #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #doctor who #doctor who 2005 #reader insert #dw #TARDIS #ten #writing prompt #writing requests #fanfiction #fanfic

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demonsandmischief · 4 years ago

Text

You Saved My Life

Marvel - Captain America Imagine

Steve Rogers x Female Reader, 1.7k Words

-You Saved My Life-

Imagine you save Captain America's life while he is trying to save yours.

A/N: I dunno when this would take place in the Marvel world. I guess you could say it's my own AU. It's a long one but I like it. I hope you do too.

----

There are a lot of things life prepares you for, but the end of the world is not one of them.

You were covering your best friend's shift at a cafe that she owned. You had a full time job as a teacher, but the school was on a holiday, and you were always willing to help your friend. Normally, she'd have managers do the day to day runnings, but there was a scheduling conflict that lined up perfectly with your free day.

You did love the little place. It was small and home-y, nestled between some larger buildings of the city.

It was after the lunch rush when it happened. You were wiping down menus when a large blast that felt like an earthquake rattled the whole shop. The glass door shattered with the impact.

That's when the screaming started. It was loud and chaotic, as throngs of people ran away from whatever had just exploded.

The customers that were in the cafe rushed out in a panic. They could see something out of the large windows that you couldn't from behind the counter.

You moved closer, hesitantly, not sure what to expect, and you were definitely not prepared.

There were large, robotic creatures wreaking havoc in every direction. You could hear their banshee like screeches that echoed in your ears, but it couldn't be louder than the intense blood rushing as your adrenaline began to flow.

Your protective, teacher instincts kicked in when you saw the young group of kids huddled in the alleyway. They were almost out of view, but you noticed. You always noticed the children. They attracted your energy naturally.

You took notice of the daycare bus still running. It looked like the driver had just abandoned them. Intense anger only fueled the instincts.

You saw the way one of the creatures eyed the group and you scrambled to grab something to defend them.

You didn't have much. You decided on a chair, thankful for your nimble frame that was able to get outside unnoticed.

The kids caught sight of you immediately, but you held a shaky finger to your lips, telling them to be quiet.

You swung the chair with all your might, hitting the thing with a sickening crunch. It faltered for a moment, stumbling forward. You were left with pieces of broken wood, the splintered edges digging into your skin.

"Get inside," you yelled to the group, watching them scramble. At least the robot thing was focused on you, and you prayed that each little boy and each little girl made it home tonight.

You knew you were the only person standing between the cafe and the monster, and you wouldn't go with them to safety for risk of this thing following you into the shop.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as your eyes searched for any kind of defense. Instead, you found more creatures and no help.

This thing was ugly up close. It was metallic like a robot, but had blood red eyes, eyes that were staring right at you.

It opened it's mouth to screech into the sky, a snake like tongue curling out. It was cut off by a flash of color in the haze of dirt and debris, but you recognized it immediately. Captain America's shield.

The man himself appeared, standing tall and proud, but you could tell he was winded. You had never been so relieved, as you relaxed a bit, just wanting to melt into the ground with exhaustion.

Steve yanked out his shield, giving it an expert throw, destroying the other visible creatures.

His blue eyes stood out beneath his cowl.

"Ma'am," he nodded. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," you whispered with a shake of your head, wiping your sweaty, bloody hands on your jeans. "But there's kids in there "

He nodded, repeating the information into his com device.

"We'll get them to safety, and you, too. This is no place you want to be. Every civilian has taken shelter in the metro underground. Do you know how to get there from here?"

"Yes, but it's like two blocks," you said. There was no way you could get the kids there without being noticed.

"I'll go with you then, but we need to move quickly. Let's go." He left no room for argument, so you entered the cafe to gather the huddled group.

Their fear struck you, wide eyes and silent sobs. There were probably twenty of them, all different ages. The youngest was probably about six.

"Captain America is going to get you guys somewhere safe," you told them, as reassuring as possible, even though you didn't feel that way.

You led the group as the captain guarded the back. The pace was quick, and eerily quiet. You imagined the tall man had warned the other Avengers to keep the area as clear as possible. You had caught a brief glimmer of Iron Man's metallic suit in the sky.

You had just ushered the kids down the stalled escalator and into safety when you heard a grunt of pain.

You turned to find six more of the robotic creatures surrounding Cap. You could tell he was wearing down as one of them pulled his arms back, rendering him powerless and unable to grab his shield. He kicked the things with all his might, but there were too many of them.

You didn't know what to do. You were exhausted and there was no way you could help. You couldn't even take out one by yourself with a chair.

It wasn't until one of the creatures pulled out a long dagger looking thing, already dripping with someone else's blood that you moved.

Your instincts didn't let you hesitate as you ran to tackle the thing, the knife in turn digging painfully in your upper shoulder, dangerously close to your neck.

You felt the cry leave your dry, cracked lips as you crumbled to the ground, squeezing your eyes shut.

You heard the creature snarl at you before you felt a jolt of hot pain in your ribs. It felt like a boot, but who knows.

Your vision doubled as you saw the metallic shield take out the group once more. You sagged in the rubble as the adrenaline left your body. It felt like buckets of blood were running from your shoulder down the curve of your breast, mixing with the pain in your ribs. You were certain death couldn't be much worse then this.

Steve couldn't believe you saved his life. He was foolish to let his guard down, but you were a distraction. You protected those kids with a fearlessness that reminded him of himself.

He heard over coms that Tony had found the source for these creatures and the fight was coming to a close. He wished he could have been there for his team, but the people came first, especially those kids.

He pressed a hand to your shoulder, cursing when he saw how much blood you were losing. He searched aimlessly for something to stop the blood.

"Your six, Captain," you manage to mutter throught the pain, not failing to notice the final of the robotic things sneaking up on the distracted man.

He kicked a stray car door effortlessly, squashing the creature against the brick building.

"We're going to get you help. You're going to be okay."

That was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

----

There was a pesky beeping that was disturbing your rest. You assumed it was your alarm, until the pain hit you full force, and you remembered the events that took place. Were you dead?

Your eyes opened, and you groaned at the harsh light, blinking rapidly to adjust. Your mouth felt like it was full of sand.

The sterile smell and blinding white walls immediately told you it was a hospital, but what stood out was the dozing man still dirty from battle. His blue suit stood out against the white.

His eyes opened when you stirred, and you noticed the blue eyes that you were beginning to like. His blonde hair was matted from the cowl, and he looked terribly uncomfortable in the small chair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his deep voice much softer than the commanding tone he used as captain.

You struggled to sit up. The pain in your shoulder not allowed you to use your hand as leverage, and your ribs didn't like the jostle.

"Don't do that," he said, lightly using his hand to keep you from moving. He pushed the button on the side that allowed the bed to lift without you having to change position.

He helped you drink some water before you were finally able to respond.

"How long have I been out?" you ask.

"Just a few hours," Steve responded. "You saved my life, and those kids, too." He shook his head in disbelief.

You felt your face grow hot at his words, not knowing how to respond. "I'm sure you are exhausted. You didn't have to stay."

"I had to make sure you were okay," he admitted. "I'm Steve."

"Y/N." You tried to smile at his cute pleasantries, but winced at the persistent throbbing in your shoulder. "Is it bad?"

"I'm sure a tough girl like you can handle it. The doctor should be in here in a minute to tell you details," he answered.

The doctor told you that your ribs were broken and your stab wound was deep but no longer life threatening after they stopped the blood. It was going to take a while to recover.

You dozed off, and it must have been a long time because when you awoke the second time, the room was covered in flowers. A stack of cards sat on your table, and you rose the bed again to reach for them.

A swell of happy emotions built up inside of you as you read the sweet words of the kids you saved. It was so relieving to know they were okay.

"You're a hero," Steve said from the door, this time in jeans and a blue jacket. He was handsome.

You wiped the fallen tears off of your cheek. "I'm nothing but a teacher."

"You're a hero to me," he smiled slightly, and a warm feeling bloomed in your chest.

----

Here's Pt. 2

#captain america imagine #captain america #steve rogers fluff #captain america x reader #captain America x you #iron man #avengers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #marvel

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noritoshiikamo · 4 years ago

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So for the request, I know that he is a curse and they are supposed to be bad but I swear Choso is a sweetheart and I'd die for him. He deserves to be loved and taken care of. Soo Can I have a drabble with him, his wife reader and maybe a lil son/daughter? Some domestic shit, like uhh brushing and braiding each other's hair, cooking, cuddling etc.

This all cane to my mind after this:

ANYWAYS I'D DO ANYTHING FOR HIM UWUU🥺

hana

part 3 of ? husband choso series uGH SOFT CHOSO AND LITTLE BROTHER YUJI jkfwrhfkbf anyway here's some soft husband choso with a kid I HOPE THIS IS ENOUGH DOMESTIC CHOSO FOR YOU also beware at the ending, slightly suggestive because it's me, i like smut LOL anyway ENJOY!!

it started with two faint lines on the night of her graduation.

he was still in her robe and mortarboard, flipping the tiny tassel front and back amusingly. they came home from a night of celebrating but despite holding a master’s degree in one hand and another around his bicep, she was upset. knowing his wife well, he decided to not bring it up until they were home, trying his best to cheer her up before offering to drive her home and called it a night after 2 hours into the party.

she wasn’t the only one with a piece of paper to flex; choso now has a driving license.

she kicked her heels off and immediately disappeared into the bathroom, slamming it shut. folding the robe gently on the chair along with the cap, he put the electric kettle on and pulled out two cups with the intent to make sure that she'll have a cup of warm calming tea ready to sober up. his fingers tapped the marble countertop, wondering if he should go and knock on the door. he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the cupboard. his mind roamed around, the sound of the kettle hissing was loud, but his mind snapped when he heard his name.

“choso,” she called out.

he turned around instantly. his wife held up a stick, where there was two faint red lines in the small window. choso’s face scrunched in confusion. “what does that mean? are you having a fever?” he asked, which she laughed with tears streaming down her face. he was immediately by her side, concerned by her sudden outburst of emotions, pulling her in his arms and asking if she was alright. she couldn’t help but to laugh even louder when she heard him talking about how weird this thermometer is and how does one read it. she cupped his face and focused him to her.

his eyes widened as her lips moved; “i’m pregnant.”

“what?”

“my friend told me i look bloated. asked me if i was finally letting it go, and not care about my weight anymore and asked what did i eat to gain a lot of fat since she wanted to do the same. and then another asked me if i was pregnant. so yeah, i figured why not and hey, look,” she took his hand and rested gently on her belly, “so now, i have little human in me.”

and that was 5 years ago.

she couldn’t help to smile as she watched the little pitter patter of their tiny human, screaming as she ran around the sofa, with a clearly exhausted but still giggling choso on her trails. “she doesn’t want to wear her pants,” he whined, pouting at the mom before returning to the tiny human, “baby, come on. please put on your pants.” like she had understood his every word, the toddler shook her head, giggling with drools down her face.

hana is the name given to their firstborn.

she’s mixed of them; locks of black hair that was always up in two tiny buns like her father and her mother’s beautiful eyes. she hadn’t shown any possibility of carrying his cursed gene, something they both had been so grateful enough when they first confirmed their pregnancy, but that doesn’t stop the child from possibly continuing her family line of sorcerer. something they’ve been keeping their eyes out ever since she’d turn 3.

“you need help, choso?”

“no, no, i got this. just, give me a minute and i’ll give you your child with perfectly worn pants.”

the child shrieked as the father got closer and ran straight into the protective arm of the mother. “got em!” she held the child up to the father. "nooo," hana cried when she realised her mistake. she pouted, willingly letting her father put the pants over her diaper. finally, choso sighed mentally.

“dada,” she called out, holding her hands out to choso. “yeah, yeah, come here,” he smiled, happily taking his little bundle of joy, gently tugging on her tiny nose, “hana, why is it so hard for me to catch you huh?” he complained to the little one and the wife returned to the stove, ears couldn’t help but to listen to them.

every time choso talks, she would listen attentively before reply with gibberish of english and japanese which her father would’ve thrown his hand up and be like exactly! see only you would understand me, child, and she’ll nod with a laugh, as if she understands everything.

their house has been everything but quiet ever since she came into their life.

she didn’t understand his obsession with the name hana and why she had agreed on it. possibly because they didn’t even pick any names yet at all up to the night where her water broke. they didn’t even know what the gender was; something they had agreed on to wait until the birth. so, at that point, she was willing to agree with anything if it meant choso would’ve shut up. “it has a lot of meaning, look!” he held the ipad to her face as she was easing into her fifth contraction of the night. “choso,” she let out a weak cry, “will you shut up if i say yes?” he laughed, nodding before bringing his hand up to his lips, planting kisses after kisses.

when the last push birthed her a daughter and the doctor placed the bloody crying baby in her arms, from the sparse black locks and the hopeful eyes of it, she just knew that hana is the perfect name for it. her tiny smile alone was enough to cure her exhaustion away from the 20 hours of labour .

without her, there isn't any point of life for both of them.

a pair of arms around her waist pulled her back to reality; she felt heads resting on both of her shoulders. “is dinner ready? you need help, mama?” he asked, pressing a kiss on her cheek; something hana instantly picked up and followed. the mother giggled at the feeling of their wet lips against her cheeks, “almost. would you mind airing her rice out? i don’t want it to be too hot for her.”

“yes, mother,” he teased leaving the wife alone with the child in his left arm.

choso has been the better parent than her; understandably due to her busy schedule despite her being hana’s favourite. she couldn’t remember any time where she woke up to a crying hana and choso didn’t shoot out of the bed instantly, feet running towards their daughter’s crib. “i got it, don’t worry. sleep, you have work tomorrow,” he shooed her away, rubbing the child’s back with his huge hand, whispering dada’s here. something unspoken between them was that he gets hana for the weekdays, and she gets hana for the weekend.

“anyway,” her train of thoughts halted, “her uncle yuji agreed to take hana in for the weekend. don’t worry, kugisaki is going to be there, so hana should be fine.” she smiled as he pressed a kiss on her cheeks, marching towards the dinner table. hana’s ears perked up at the mention of yuji, her favourite uncle and she squealed, calling out for choso’s little brother’s name excitedly. “yayy, uuji, uuji!” he placed her in the baby seat, tightening the seatbelt before handling her a piece of cut off fruit which she eagerly sucked on.

he was back, latching desperately onto her. “finally, a weekend just the two of us,” he sighed against her ear; his chest rested against her back. away from her daughter’s line of view, he planted a kiss on her neck while his free hand roamed under her shirt. a little oh came out of his lips as he realised she was completely bare underneath the thin shirt.

her chest fluttered at the way he looked at her; she could see a hint of lust in his dark eyes and his smile carried a different meaning. her cheeks instantly flushed, and she found herself clenching on nothingness.

weekend could not reach fast enough.

#unabashednightmarepizza #writing: fics #writing: request answered #will i ever stop writing choso as choco probbaly never #choso #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso x y/n #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #choso headcanons

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

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Are you happy? [1/2]

Part 2

Pairing: Ex!Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Summary: After almost two years without seeing each other, fate brings you together again, each of you has your own reason for the reunion, which brings your feelings to the surface again.

Warnings: Angst. Ex-friends / Ex-partner.

Word count: 3411

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

The decision wandered through your mind trying to be made as you sat inside the car with a head full of doubts. You couldn't help but lean back in the driver's seat closing your eyes, letting out a slight sigh between your lips. Guilt was present in you and you couldn't explain why, for in your thoughts was present that you had committed, or were about to commit, any act bordering on recklessness. Two months had passed since your parting, and though you tried to forget him you could not get him out of your thoughts, yet, though you were no longer together as such, your reasoning informed you that you were not acting rightly, and that fact might have been caused by the feelings your heart still harboured for him.

Finally, after a few minutes of meditation, you opened your eyelids and let the brightness of that morning in the small Massachusetts town into your eyes, but quickly covered your face with the palms of your hands, letting a sound of frustration escape from within you. You couldn't stay there any longer, hidden inside the car, so a mere decisive nod of the head emphasised your acceptance of the proposition Chris had made to you a few weeks ago, and with such firmness you placed his right hand on the knob and opened the car door. The coldness of the weather fell upon you, sending a shiver from the back of his neck to the tips of your toes, but the quietness of the street relaxed you, for what you feared most at that moment was that the press would report your presence there with your companion, causing a halo of fabricated stories to reach the ears of the world. Thus, and obviating any negative thoughts, you put on your sunglasses before you started your way to the charming pastry café, looking again at your watch and fearing for your tardiness, for the decision had taken you thirty minutes, Chris would have disappeared from there.

As you approached the shop you realised that it had hardly changed since the last time you came, the glass panes on the front of the shop revealed a variety of sweet and savoury pastries, accompanied by a tantalising raspberry scent. Small tulips decorated the front door, where a wooden sign informed you that the shop was open and at your disposal. You couldn't help but take a deep breath of air before you decided to push open the glass door, before you were grateful for the warmth that opened up in contrast to the cold of Massachusetts.

You removed the cap from your head and smiled immediately as a young woman approached you with a friendly expression on her face, inviting you to step inside and take a seat. Gently you thanked her for her kindness as you unbuttoned each button of your coat. It took you only a few seconds to scan the place with your eyes, evidently to look for him, and you found him, at your table, in a small corner of the room, offering you one of his smiles in the distance as he fiddled restlessly with his hands. You tried with all your might to avoid him, but on your lips a nervous smile showed its presence, which meant that in the blink of an eye you could see Chris widen his. You were only a few feet away from each other, but the distance seemed infinite to both of you as you began to walk towards him.

As if he were a gentleman of old, Chris rose from his seat awaiting your arrival, keeping his blue eyes fixed on yours with barely a blink of an eye. You had imagined that situation in your head every night of every day since Chris had informed you by a message on your answering machine that he was going to visit his hometown, or rather your hometown. At first you didn't respond to the suggestion to meet again, because things were not easy between you and you didn't know how to act in that situation, but you decided to accept his proposal.

As you were shortening the distance, your heart accelerated, making you feel as if you were in a slowed down movie scene, as if you were moving in slow motion, until you reached him and his arm rested firmly on your back, making the distance come to nothing.

As the distance shortened, your heart sped up, making you feel as if you were in a slowed down movie scene, as if you were moving in slow motion, until you reached him and his arm rested firmly on your back, making the distance come to nothing. It was two, no, a year and eight months, that passed without knowing anything about each other since things were cut short, it wouldn't really hurt so much to say it if it hadn't started with a childhood friendship, but things happen. The fear you felt at that moment had disappeared the moment Chris had taken the initiative to offer you that hug that was lasting longer than socially established, but that was too comforting to bring you feelings you thought were lost.

"I'm sorry I'm late," you mumbled without so much as an inch from him.

"You've come, that's all that matters," he said, stepping back to look at your face.

The fact that they came within inches of each other's faces caused your gazes to withdraw and you each took your seats, facing each other at the little round table at which you had spent so many moments.

"It's great to be back here," he said, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and looking around.

"Yes," you mimicked his gesture of looking around. "I guess there's no better place to try raspberry pie."

"Agreed absolutely," after saying those words silence flooded around you, leaving you with a blank stare at each other and an imposed smile from the moment you saw each other.

The few people around you hardly knew everything that was going on between you, all the hidden feelings, what you wanted to say but couldn't, what you had experienced, and above all, what you had left to experience, although you didn't know that either. That level of intimacy that on thousands of occasions had been an inconvenience between the two of you was now present and you were grateful for it, because no matter how much the media had published about you, the truth only had the two of you.

"Do you know what you're having?" the young waitress who had welcomed you broke the moment with her presence.

"The usual?" Chris looked at you to which you nodded curiously. "A green tea with honey, a cappuccino and a piece of raspberry tart with two teaspoons, please."

"All right," again the young woman disappeared bringing you the previous comfort.

"You still remember," you said smiling crossing your arms on the table creating a distance between you unconsciously.

"Of course, it was many Sundays," he finished his words with a sigh, which again generated a silence that he decided to cut. "By the way, I was glad to hear that you were finally engaged to Garret," his tone became nervous, "I wanted to have called you but..."

"No, it's my fault, I wanted to have told you but..." your voice trailed off as you shook your face in denial.

"I know," Chris smiled, "I guess neither of us knew how to do it."

"Exactly," you whispered looking into his eyes.

As if things weren't complicated enough, yes, you were engaged. Maybe it had all happened too fast, you didn't feel it at the time, but now it was as if a pile of doubts was coming down on you like a bucket of cold water. When Chris said the word fiancée and Garret in the same sentence, while being happy to hear it, it was as if an arrow pierced your heart. You had no doubts at the time, you opened your heart to Garret, after Chris had completely shattered it, you accepted his proposal with all your love, but you were terrified of how quickly Chris was making you doubt in those moments.

As if things weren't complicated enough, yes, you were engaged. Maybe it had all happened too fast, you didn't feel it at the time, but now it was as if a pile of doubts was coming down on you like a bucket of cold water. When Chris said the word fiancée and Garret in the same sentence, while being happy to hear it, it was as if an arrow pierced your heart. You had no doubts at the time, you opened your heart to Garret, after Chris had completely shattered it, you accepted his proposal with all your love, but you were terrified at how quickly Chris was making you hesitate in those moments.

"So how long are you staying in town?" you asked that question just to change the subject, to break away from the thoughts that were eating away at you.

"I leave on Tuesday next week, so... five days," he explained, fixing his gaze behind you, as the waitress brought a tray with your breakfast. "Thank you."

"Thank you very much," you pleaded offering her a smile as she set your cup of tea down in front of you before leaving again.

"And when are you leaving for Washington?" Chris arched an eyebrow as he stared at his coffee and the way he swirled the spoon around, but seeing that you were silent, as you were taken by surprise that he knew you were leaving for Washington, he looked up at you. "My sister told me."

"I see your sister has caught you up on everything," you said with a little laugh, spooning up a piece of raspberry pie. "In two months, Garret is taking care of all the paperwork from there, he's also found a house in the suburbs, away from all the hustle and bustle of the city. He's really going to a lot of trouble."

"It's normal," he shrugged, "it's your future."

"I guess," you whispered taking the cup in your hands.

Weird, that was the word that defined the situation at the moment, you knew Chris well enough and he evidently knew you well enough to know that there was an end to your meeting and neither of you were putting it on the table. He wanted to meet you again for a reason and you had gone to meet him again for a reason, but neither of you were putting it on the table.

"By the way, I went to the cinema to see the latest Avengers movie," you said, resting your face in the palm of your hand. "I really loved it."

"Oh come on, you don't have to do that anymore," he said between smiles, "I know you hate them."

"That's not true!" you exclaimed with a chuckle, looking offended at his comment. "You know I really enjoy them, I'm sorry if you're not my favourite superhero."

"Ah, so I'm not your favourite superhero, you didn't think that the night that... well you know," he hid a laugh and ducked his face, you arched your eyebrows opening your mouth in surprise at his words. "I'm sorry, that comment was out of line."

"I can see you're still too smug Evans," you shook your face with a smirk and looked away.

Those were the moments that made you miss Chris every day, your childhood friend, your mischief ally, your first love, your prom date, your first kiss, your ex-partner. Too many memories to let it all slip away because of a turning point, when you both realised that your relationship wasn't working as a couple over the years. It was a hard moment for both of you to come to terms with reality, a reality that seemed totally unrealistic, but the paths you had taken were too far apart to be compatible. Each of you had your own dreams, your own goals in life, which were far removed from each other, so before either of you gave up on your dreams, you chose to give up on your relationship.

"How was it?" asked Chris after putting a piece of cake in his mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"How did Garret ask you to marry him?" he asked crossing his arms over the table, approaching you. "Well, if you're uncomfortable or..."

"No. It was over dinner, it was actually quite conventional," you began to explain distractedly. "We both took a week's holiday from the office, so we decided to take a trip to Montreal, you know to unwind, so he set up a romantic dinner in the hotel suite and asked me to marry him."

"And you accepted," concluded Chris nodding taking the cup of coffee and taking a sip.

"I accepted," you repeated looking at the tea.

"I suppose you don't have to put on a show when you're going to ask someone to marry you," he began, looking at your face. "I guess when it's clear to you, it's the person you love and want to spend the rest of their life with, all the frills don't matter, it's the words that matter."

"I suppose," you murmured looking away from his gaze and instinctively focusing it on your engagement ring.

Chris really was good at making you feel a lump in your throat with his every word. How was it possible that you were so confused at the time, you had considered the consequences that breakfast might have on you, but really when you left the house that morning you had no idea what it was going to be like to face Chris.

"Are you happy?" that question came out of Chris's mouth like a bullet and threw you completely off balance.

"How?" you rebutted with a frown, hoping your ears hadn't heard his words correctly.

"I want to know if you're happy," his tone was calm, he spoke each word slowly staring at you, making you lose yourself in his eyes.

"I..." you mumbled drawing air into your lungs, making time to find an answer to offer him.

How could he even think of asking you that question? Everyone knows it's an unanswerable question, no one can offer you a concise and firm answer to that question, because if you say 'yes', you were probably lying and if you say 'no' you're probably lying too, it's an unanswerable question, and you hated it every time you heard it from someone. You have moments of happiness in life, as well as moments of bitterness, but no one is 100% happy, or at least that's what you thought.

"I'm not sure what you want me to answer," you said, avoiding addressing an answer.

"I want to know if he makes you happy," he finally said with a shrug. "That's easy."

"Yes," you said with barely a thought, nodding a little confused. "Yes, he makes me happy."

"Okay," he whispered nodding, his countenance serious. "Then that's it."

That's it? That's all I wanted to know, that's why I was meeting you in that coffee shop? You wanted to know if Garret made you happy? You assumed that was his reason, why he wanted to have this reunion with you, but it was all really confusing. It got even more confusing when Chris put down his coffee cup, got up from his seat, put on his scarf and jacket and went to pay, leaving you completely bewildered and desolate at the round table. Your eyes followed your every step, but you barely had time to react as Chris was already on his way out the door when you stood up from your chair. You grabbed your belongings without a sign of alteration on your face, and with a slow but steady step you headed for the exit, thanking the kind waitress again for her service.

As you left the bright morning had turned grey, there was no shade and those clouds looked like a storm. Chris had gone up the street, and had turned down a charming alley full of typical houses, you didn't want to shout his name, so you quickened your pace to catch up with him and stand beside him.

"Can you explain to me what the hell just happened in there? Because I really didn't understand anything," you asked harshly, seeking his gaze, but he was staring straight ahead under that Red Sox cap that hid much of his face.

"I guess there's nothing to explain," his steps didn't stop, "I really wanted to see you, to hear from you, to know if you're happy, and you are, that's all that mattered to me."

You began to understand where the turning point at breakfast had come from, at what point there had been that change of attitude in Chris, it was when you had said yes, Garret made you happy, which was funny because how could Chris expect you to say he didn't make you happy. Still you needed an answer to what would have happened if you had answered no.

"Wait," you addressed with a frown, but he didn't stop, so you ran to stand right in front of him, causing him to be unable to move forward and look you in the face. That fact seemed to annoy him. "What if instead of telling you it made me happy, I had told you it didn't make me happy?"

You thought in that instant that you had managed to stop him, to get his attention, but after a couple of seconds he made an attempt to dodge you and continue walking down that lonely alley.

"Chris!" you exclaimed, grabbing his arm to stop him, causing him to turn suddenly towards you. "Can you answer my question?"

"Do you really want to know?" he inquired in a raised tone, his brow furrowed and his hands shoved inside his coat pockets.

"I want to," you said, unlike him, with a quieter volume, causing Chris's features to relax as he listened to you.

"Alright, being that you'll regret it after you hear it," Chris nodded, looking to the side and then back into your eyes. "I probably would have acted without thinking and kissed you."

You regretted it, instantly after hearing him say those words out loud. As if in a flashback, it came to your mind what that moment would have been like, if Chris had closed the distance between you in that charming café to kiss you after two years. You regretted doing that too, but Chris broke your thoughts.

"Because yes, if you're wondering I'm still in love with you, and yes, I still blame myself for everything that happened, it all went to shit," he continued with an infuriated tone each time the words passed, gesturing freely with his hands. " Fuck, when I heard you'd accepted Garret's hand I didn't know what to do, whether to phone you, get on a fucking plane and show up here, but what was I going to do?" he swiped his hand over his mouth and looked around nervously. "I think this whole thing was a mistake, I shouldn't have called you. I really don't have the slightest idea what I was waiting for."

Body lock took over your limbs, Chris nervously running his hand over his face, blaming himself for everything he had just said, blurting out insult after insult, not resting his gaze on you. Of all the possible situations that could be presented to you, that one wasn't on your list, so you hadn't thought of it, but right now you had to deal with Chris, with his feelings and with your own, which were now creating an immense panic. To add to the intensity, the raindrops were beginning to make their presence felt, watering down a morning that seemed to be quite watery.

Tomorrow the final part.

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

#chris evans x reader #chirs evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #chris evans #chris evans one shot #chris evans fanfic #chis evans fan fiction #chris evans drabble #chris evans prompt #chris evans angst #avengers x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfic #chris evans smut #smut #angst #fluff

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

Text

Quarantine Lovers | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: Can we have a Charlie x reader where she is his secret quarantine partner and the cast keeps guessing who it is until Maddie names a famous writer and gets it right? Thanks!

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Female!Reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I’m not sure if this is what you wanted but i kinda like it haha

Charlie has always been secretive about his private life. It’s always been his one thing he promised himself. Work life and private life needs to be separate. Especially in the industry he’s in now. You and Charlie have been together for a couple of months now and nobody knows. It all started when he’d finished filming Julie and The Phantoms and came back to Dieppe from Vancouver. He went for a hike with one of his brothers when they found you sitting on a rock, clutching your ankle.

“Hey, are you okay?” his voice made you look up. You offered him a polite smile, trying not to show your pain or the fact you were thinking ‘Holy crap, attractive”. “Yeah, just threw my ankle a little bit on the rocks over there,” you pointed to a few feet behind the boys. “Was waiting for it to blow over and I could go on, but I’ve been sat here for…” you checked your watch, “About half an hour.” You chuckled at your own pathetic behavior. “I used to be really good at these hikes, you know?” Charlie then chuckled too, mostly at how endearing you were.

“Can you stand on it a little bit if we support you?” Patrick, Charlie’s brother, asked then.

“I’m not sure…” The two guys walked up to you, each taking a hand of yours to pull you up, and then wrapping one arm around your waist. You could go like that for about a kilometer until your foot began to throb again. “Can we take a break?” you squeak. Charlie and Patrick placed you onto a tree trunk very gingerly and took a seat next to you.

“Are you from around here?” Charlie then asked.

“Yeah, I live in Moncton with my best friend,” you replied with a smile, glad he’s distracting you from the pain in your ankle.

“No way! We live in Dieppe!” The excitement on his face was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. Your eyes and smile widen at this, not necessarily at the fact he lives kind of close, but at the excitement on his face.

“Cool! I have family in Dieppe, so I know my way around there,” you told them. Charlie and Patrick nodded their heads at this, not entirely sure what else to say to this stranger they just picked up from a rock in the middle of nowhere.

“So, what’s your name?” Charlie then asked upon reminding himself of this fact. “Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied.

“Charlie Gillespie, and this is my brother, Patrick,” he introduced himself and his brother, who gave you a little wave. The wind suddenly picked up, and you knew exactly what that meant.

“It’s going to rain soon. We better get going.” Charlie and Patrick nodded their heads agreeingly and helped you up from the trunk.

“Get on my back,” Charlie then suggested. “It’s going to go quicker than you hopping along with us.” You hesitated for a few seconds, but then decided you agreed with him. Patrick helped you jump on Charlie’s back, and the three of you continued your walk down the trail, chatting about your lives the whole way down.

You found out Charlie was an actor and had just finished filming about a month ago, and you told him you were a screenwriter. Your most recent work was on Outer Banks and Season two of Umbrella Academy. You talked about your hopes and dreams and agreed the industry you both were in was a tough one.

From that day on, the two of you have been pretty inseparable. You became really close friends and spent a lot of time together before he finally asked you out on a first date. Then came more and more dates, and then came March 2020. Quarantine. And since Charlie had been spending most of his nights at your place since your best friend was with their parents, you both decided to quarantine together.

No one knew about your relationship. Not even his friends from the cast of Julie and The Phantoms. Only his family knew, and that’s all that mattered right now. No one knew you two were spending lockdown together at your place, and you could keep it a secret for a very long time. Charlie liked it this way, though the cast had been texting and calling non-stop because they knew he wasn’t home in Dieppe.

When September 10th hit, and he could finally show you the work he’d done on Julie and The Phantoms.

“What do you think, Baby?” he asked every five minutes when you were cuddled up on the couch watching it together.

“Stop asking me that question, Char,” you giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You were fine for most of the show, chuckling at the ghost jokes or pretty much anything Reggie did, bopping your head along to the catchy songs. And then Unsaid Emily hit. “Oh, no…” you whined as the music started to play and on-screen-Charlie started to sing the sad song. The Charlie next to you chuckled, endeared by your investment in the show, and wrapped his arms tighter around you whilst kissing your head multiple times. “HOW DARE THEY END THIS LIKE THAT?!” You screamed at the very end, making Charlie love you even more. Afterwards, he listened to all of your theories and your predictions for season 2.

Thus far, quarantine is going really well at the Y/L/N-Gillespie Quarantine Residence.

The couple of weeks after the release of Julie and The Phantoms, Charlie had to do a lot of zoom calls for interviews. Sometimes even multiple a day. You made sure you were never in sight during those interviews, sometimes even leaving the house for a walk, but today, you decided to stay home and work on a script for an episode of season 2 of

Outer Banks.

You were sat on the sofa with your laptop and all your notes while Charlie was doing his interview in the bedroom. You could hear him talk to his castmates and the interviewer, and you often had to pause your writing because you wanted to hear what he was talking about.

“Where have you been spending quarantine?” the interviewer asked. Most of them said home with their families, and even Charlie said ‘home’. This answer melted your heart just a tiny bit.

“That’s a lie, Charlie,” Madison said with a giggle. “Charlie has a secret quarantine partner and doesn’t want to say who!”

“I am spending time with family, exploring Dieppe. I don’t know where you get your information from, Mads.” Though Charlie was a good actor, he couldn’t hide the fact he was lying to his own friends. Even you could hear how flustered he was.

“OK, I wanted to start with a couple of the fans’ questions that they sent in,” the interviewer continued, either ignoring the banter and the big piece of gossip they could get out of this, or not having heard it. “Someone asked who you’d love to work with on a next season.”

“Actor wise, I want to do scenes with Cheyenne Jackson,” Madison replies, “I didn’t get to do any scenes with him this season, but he’s really talented and I’d love to work with him. And I also have a writer that would be really great to work with on our show and that’s Y/N Y/L/N. She worked on Outer Banks and Umbrella Academy, and I loved the episodes she wrote.” Charlie’s face at the mention of your name is priceless. His eyes widen first before his mouth curled up into a smile, though he tried to hide it from his castmates and the interviewer.

Madison and Owen glanced into the camera knowingly but decided not to say anything and continue with the interview. It’s when that interview was done, Madi, Owen and Jeremy called Charlie in a group FaceTime.

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?!” You heard Madison scream from Charlie’s phone as he walked into the living room where you were working. He gave you a questioning look, as if asking for permission to tell them. You simply nodded encouragingly.

“Yes, okay, fine! You figured it out!” The three on the other side of the line cheered loudly, making you chuckle slightly. “You want to meet the cast, Babe?” he asked you whilst making his way over. You patted the spot next to you for him to sit down, and he obeyed, showing you the screen of his phone.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted with a wave. A chorus of ‘hi’ and ‘hey’ meets your ears. “How’d you figure it out?” You asked them, placing your laptop on the coffee table to get more comfortable. You tucked your feet underneath you, placing your elbow on the back of the couch and gliding your fingers into Charlie’s long, lockdown-hair.

“First of all, I follow you on Instagram, Y/N, and I saw the two of you tagged the same location on the same day once, and your last pictures kind of look similar. So, I had a bit of a hunch, but I wasn’t sure, and when I mentioned you in the interview, he got all flustery and happy and I just knew!” You gave the girl an impressed nod.

“We literally just hung up on the interviewer when Madi texted us ‘IT’S Y/N!!’ in all caps,” Jeremy added with a smile. Defeated, and a little embarrassed, Charlie groaned and hid his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort.

“We won’t tell anyone, Char. We’re just happy for you,” says Owen with a smile, “And us, because now Madi won’t be texting us non-stop with all her theories on who your quarantine partner is.” All of you chuckled a that, except for Madison, she glared at her blonde-haired friend through the screen.

“You all wanted to know!” she snarled.

All of you chatted for a couple hours until Charlie and you got hungry and decided to prepare dinner.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N! Hopefully we’ll see each other soon IRL!” Madison said with the biggest smile on her face.

“It was nice to meet you too, guys! Ooh, by the way! I loved the show!” you complimented.

“Of course you did,” said Owen with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Bye guys!” you waved at them, completely ignoring Owen’s statement. Charlie hung up the phone and put his phone on the coffee table before turning to you. “Madison would be a good detective,” you pointed out with a grin. Charlie glared at you, which just made you giggle and kiss his lips. At least now you didn’t need to keep it a secret from his friends. Almost like a weight off your shoulders.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #charlie gillespie #charlie x reader #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie one shot #luke patterson #reggie jatp #jeremy shada #alex jatp #owen patrick joyner #julie molina #madison reyes

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 4 years ago

Text

Fire on Fire (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! This one was inspired by Sam Smith’s “Fire on Fire”. Once again, post- Age of Ultron and pre-Civil War. Hope you like it! :)

Warnings: None, just fluff featuring Cap and Clint being protective and supportive.

“Maybe it's 'cause I got a little bit older, maybe it's all that I've been through. I'd like to think it's how you lean on my shoulder and how I see myself with you.”

Wanda took a seat on the mat of the training area and took a sip of water as her mind wandered to you (as it often did). It had been several months since you and Wanda had officially been together and to say it was going well would be an understatement. You two fit together like pieces of a puzzle and the rate at which she fell for you absolutely stunned her. She hadn’t felt this much love in her heart since she lost Pietro. She didn’t think she ever could again… until you.

Never in her life had she felt something this intense – she never thought she was capable of feelings this intense. In her past she knew there was very little opportunity for love, but even if there was, she couldn’t imagine replicating this. Wanda knew you were special. What she found with you was special.

Those three little words had been on the tip of her tongue so many times, yet she could never find the courage to utter them to you. The remnants of the fear of losing those she loved still weighed heavily on her. It was something she was working on. Despite her fear of uttering those three words, there was no doubt in her mind that she was completely and hopelessly in love with you.

The sound of a throat clearing startled her out of her thoughts as she snapped her head up to meet the eyes of Steve who was smiling down at her amicably. “Wanda,” he began, “I was hoping we could have a word.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be running training?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

Steve chuckled and gestured to the empty room which Wanda hadn’t noticed until that moment. “We just finished up a few minutes ago. How’s about that word?”

Wanda spun a single ring she wore on her finger nervously as she nodded. “Sure, Steve.” She had a feeling she knew where this was going. Steve was very protective of you and she was well aware of that, so it was only a matter of time before this talk happened.

Steve offered his hand out to help her up which she easily accepted. “Let’s take a walk.” The walk was wordless until they left the compound which didn’t help Wanda’s nerves in the slightest. “You have nothing to be worried about, Wanda.”

“How did you- “

A boisterous laugh escaped his lips, “You look like I’m about to murder you any second now.”

Wanda merely shrugged and nodded with a small smile, “Fair enough.”

Steve’s expression became serious once again as he regarded Wanda, “I’m just going to cut to the chase. I think you’re a good kid. You’ve been through situations that would have left even the strongest soldiers on their knees and came out stronger than before. I respect that.”

She sensed there was a ‘but’ in his speech and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what it was.

With a flat expression he continued, “I know you’re dating Y/n, and I’m sure you know my history with her. I don’t know if it’s because of how I found her, but I’m very protective of her, Wanda.”

Her gaze fell to the floor at his words as she nodded understandingly. “You don’t think that I’m good for her.” She whispered and refused to allow herself to look up at him and see the pity on his face.

Immediately Steve stopped in his tracks and placed his hands on her shoulders to stop her as well, “What? Wanda, no,” he rushed out, a bewildered expression on his face, “that’s not what I’m saying at all. That’s actually the opposite of where I was going with that.”

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows and finally looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. “It is?”

With a nod Steve continued, “It is. In fact, I think that you two are perfect for each other. It’s clear that you bring out the best in one another and have helped each other heal. I just –“ he rubbed the back of his neck, “Be gentle with Y/n. I know you understand what she’s been through more than anyone, but it’s still a lot and I worry about her.”

“I will be, she’s helped me more than you know.” she replied quietly.

A thoughtful look overcame his features, “It’s been nice seeing her so happy. Seeing you both happy. Seeing her happy is something I never thought I’d see when we first met. You’re a big part of that. Just take care of her, okay?”

Wanda nodded seriously, “I promise I’ll take care of her, Steve. I-I… I love her. I want to do everything in my power to keep her happy too.”

“You love her?” Steve questioned happily with an excited smile.

Bashfully, Wanda tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and smiled back at him. “I do. I just haven’t told her yet.”

Steve wrapped an arm around her shoulder and spun her back in the direction they came from. “In that case, let’s get you back to your girl then.” They walked a few paces when Steve spoke again, “She loves you too, you know?”

“You think so?” she questioned insecurely.

With a steady and sure voice, Steve replied, “I know so.”

Back at the compound, you were looking for your girlfriend, a bit confused as to where she could have gone after training. You wandered into the kitchen with no luck as the only person there was Clint who was seemingly reading the newspaper at the kitchen counter. “Clint?” you called out.

He hummed but didn’t look up from his reading.

“Have you seen Wanda? I’ve been looking all over for her.” You took a seat next to him and rested your head on your folded arms petulantly.

Clint chuckled as you watched him fold his newspaper and turn his attention to you, “Don’t pout, kid. I think she just went on a walk with Cap.”

Your head perked up curiously, “Really? Do you know why?”

Again, Clint chuckled. “I think you know why, kiddo.” You swatted his arm when he smirked.

With a groan you buried your head in your arms, “Damn Rogers and his outdated ideas of dating.”

From where you were seated you could hear Clint clear his throat which made you lift your head and eye him wearily. “That reminds me. I was hoping we could have a chat too.”

Skeptically, you nodded, “This feels like a set-up.” You mumbled.

Clint pressed on with an indifferent shrug, “It kind of was. I wanted to talk to you about Wanda.”

You stared at him in silence for a few moments, “… I’m getting the talk, aren’t I?”

“You sure are. Now, shut up so I can get through this.” You mimed zipping your lips which caused him to roll his eyes and try to fight back a smile. “I owe a lot to Wanda. Her brother gave his life for my own. I see her as a daughter of sorts now. I always wished I could do more to ease her sadness, but then you came and did what none of us were able to. You made her smile. I appreciated that so much.”

A small smile to him was your only response as you sensed he wasn’t done quite yet.

He placed a firm hand on your arm, “I have no threats for you in this talk. I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you found happiness with one another. Don’t lose that. Not that you need it, or probably care, but you have my approval.”

With misty eyes you hugged Clint, “Of course I care. Thank you, Clint.”

You felt him hug you back. “Don’t hurt her, okay?”

Pulling back from the hug you firmly nodded. “I would never intentionally hurt her. She means everything to me.”

“Sounds like love to me,” Clint teased playfully.

The room went quiet for a moment before you spoke, “I can’t see my life with anyone else by my side.”

Clint knowingly pat your shoulder, “So, it really is love.”

“It is. I love Wanda.”

“Y/n?”

With wide eyes you turned to the direction the voice came from quickly. “Wanda!” you exclaimed as you noticed her enter the space with Steve who was smiling proudly at you.

With a clap of his hands, Clint stood up and walked over to Steve, “Looks like that’s our cue, Cap. Y/n, Wanda.” He rushed out as he exited the kitchen, followed by Steve who merely winked and saluted you before following Clint out.

When you turned your attention back to Wanda, you found her watching you with a soft expression on her face. “How much of that did you hear?” you asked as you wrung your hands nervously.

Wordlessly she stepped forward and took hold of your hands. Her expression now nervous. “I heard… enough…” She trailed off as she ran her thumb over the back of your hand passively, “I love you, Y/n.” she breathed out.

You stared at her for a moment, just reveling in her words and searching her eyes, finding nothing but love. Without hesitation you surged forward and connected your lips, hoping to pour every ounce of love you felt in your soul for her into the kiss. You only broke apart when the smiles on both of your faces made it too difficult to continue. “I love you, so much. You are my only direction, Wanda.” You whispered.

With your words, every single fear Wanda previously felt vanished and all that remained was the love she felt for you.

She leaned her forehead on yours, a loving smile on her face. “And you are mine, moya lyubov. You are perfection to me. You saved me.” Happiness blossomed in your chest as Wanda connected your lips in another passionate kiss.

Hello again, here’s part 3! For the next part should I take the angst route or would you all prefer some more fluff? Let me know. As always hope you enjoyed!

(For reference part 1 is “Latch”, part 2 is “One Day at a Time”)

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