#I’d like to personally apologize this idea became angst

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Puppet is burden with knowing the truth,,

[graysonswonder]

Say My Name

pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader

word count: 1,417

warnings: slight angst if you squint? mentions of sex

summary: where dick is the reader’s ex and they went on a date with Jason that ended rather awkwardly…

minors dni !!

“Go away, Dick!”

Her demand is followed by the harsh slam of her bedroom door, which stops the young man in his tracks. Dick lets out an exasperated sigh before resting his head against the door and giving it three light knocks.

“Y/n—”

He’s cut off by a soft thud from what he can only assume is a pillow that she has thrown at the door. Dick rolls his eyes.

“I said go away. I don’t want to talk about it,” she yells from where she lays in her bed, hoping for it to swallow her whole.

“Y/n, we’re friends. You can talk to me about this.”

But that’s the very thing. She can’t talk to him about this. Or rather she won’t. Having a discussion with her ex boyfriend about her failed date with his brother certainly was not on her bingo card for this year. She’s not at all surprised that he wants to know the details. For her to explain what went wrong. She can practically hear the smug look on his face as he pleas for her to open the door.

She wants to vomit.

“I’m not telling you how my date with Jason went.”

“It’s obvious that you’re upset. If you just—”

Y/n groans loudly over the rest of his words. She’s in no mood to hear them, nor does she want to pretend to be. “Yes, I’m upset. Which is why I’d like for you to drop it, and please leave.”

She doesn’t enjoy being so short with him. He’s right. They are friends. Best friends even. At least they were before they became a couple, and to this day she still feels like Dick’s the only person in the world who truly understands her. Who truly sees her. Faults and all.

It was actually her idea to stay friends after things ended, and even though Dick agreed, she could tell he was still torn up over everything. The split was relatively mutual but completely amicable. There weren’t really any hard feelings. They both had a lot on their plate that seemed to be getting in the way of the two of them moving their relationship forward. Dick had started a new Titans team on top of still being the one trying to hold his family together, and Y/n was starting her doctorate program.

The timing just wasn’t right. And why she decided to go on a date with Jason? She has no idea. Maybe it was a lame attempt at trying to move on and get out there and see other people. Granted, other people probably shouldn’t have been Dick’s brother. Or maybe she was trying to mask residual feelings that she still has.

Either way, it didn’t go well for her.

“I’m fine, Dick. You don’t have to worry about me,” she says after she can still hear him breathing on the other side of her door.

She stares up at her ceiling. She watches as the blades of her ceiling fan spin around and around, and she counts the seconds it takes until Dick says something again.

“Y/n?”

It’s twenty.

“Dick,” she sighs.

“Baby, I—” he begins, but immediately stops as he catches himself calling her the pet name he’d use whenever he was being gentle with her. It still slips out so easily. “Listen, I’m not trying to pry. It’s just…this could be my fault, and I want to explain and apologize.”

Her door suddenly flies open, and she stands right in front of him frowning. “What do you mean this is your fault?”

She studies him for a second, waiting to hear his response. What happened with Jason wasn’t his fault. Not technically anyway, but Dick still doesn’t have any of the blame to shoulder. Still, she’s curious as to what he has to say.

“Well…um…you see…the thing is…”

Oh my god, Richard. Please just spit it out, she thinks.

“I might have intentionally given Jason bad advice to ruin your date.”

Y/n quirks a brow. “Like what?”

Dick’s eyes shift around. “Um, like telling him not to take you anywhere nice because you don’t like fancy places. And I told him to be mean because that turns you on,” he confesses, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. He can barely look at her.

Y/n starts to grin, then she’s tilting her head back and full on laughing. Loudly. Uncontrollably. She’s clutching her stomach while Dick is looking at her like she’s crazy.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh,” she says between hiccups of laughter. “I really don’t. That’s just the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Dick smirks a little too, but conceals his laughter. He shoves his hands in his pockets and waits for her to collect herself. Y/n can tell he’s been beating himself up over that. She doesn’t mean to laugh so crudely in his face, but she does find it cute that he was jealous.

“Dick, Jason took me to that little French restaurant downtown,” she tells him once she catches a breath.

“He did?”

She nods. “Yeah, he did. He wore a suit and everything. He wasn’t mean to me at all either, so it’s safe to say he didn’t take your advice.”

Dick’s brows knit together, and Y/n can see the gears beginning to grind in his head. “So you two had a good time then?” He asks, but Y/n knows that isn’t what he really wants an answer about.

“It went alright until…”

“Until?” Dick coaxes.

Y/n shrugs, leaning her weight against the doorframe. “Until things moved to the bedroom.”

There’s a pinched expression on Dick’s face. It’s clear he wants to ask but also isn’t sure he actually wants to know.

“So—”

“We didn’t have sex,” she quickly tells him, and she visibly sees him relax a little. “We were going to. We probably would have if we hadn’t been making out and he said “Mmm, Y/n” and I said “Mmm, Dick” when I was supposed to say his name.”

Dick’s pupils become the size of the moon. “Wait you what?”

“You heard me.”

Dick starts to smirk, and a part of Y/n wants to slam the door in his face again. “Stop it,” she says.

“Stop what?” He feigns innocence.

“It’s not what you think.”

Actually, it’s probably exactly what he thinks. But she isn’t going to so easily admit that.

“Oh, so what am I supposed to think then? That you obviously aren’t still in love with me?”

She folds her arms across her chest, rolling her eyes at him in the process. “Get out of my apartment, Richard.”

“No, no, no. I’m not leaving until you admit that you’re still in love with me,” he says, mirroring the way she’s standing.

She looks at him. Really looks at him. Allows herself a moment to drink all of him in. There’s something swimming in those gorgeous blue eyes of his as he’s looking right back at her, and she recognizes that it’s hope. He’s hoping that she’ll tell him how she truly feels because maybe then he can finally be happy like he was.

She takes a deep breath. “Isn’t it obvious? In the heat of the moment, I said your name.”

“Uh-uh,” Dick tuts. “I wanna hear you say it.”

She desperately wants to slap that smirk off his face. “Fine,” she huffs, “Dick Grayson, after all these miserable months apart, I am still in love with you.”

“Thank you. That’s all I needed to hear,” he says, before he suddenly walks right past her. He grabs hold of her wrist and leads her back into her bedroom.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

Dick guides the two of them over to her bed where he takes a seat and pulls her onto his lap. She straddles him and wraps her arms around his neck while his hands rest on her waist, giving both sides a subtle squeeze.

He can feel wisps of her breath across his cheeks as he says, “I’m still in love with you too.”

“Okay,” she says, nudging his nose with her own, “but what are you doing?”

Dick then flips the two of them over, catching her by surprise as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses up the side of her neck and jaw. A small moan betrays her mouth, and it’s music to Dick’s ears as he slips a hand under her shirt, his fingers dancing lightly over her soft skin.

God he’s missed her.

“We are getting back together,” he tells her, then leans in close to her ear, “and I am going to make you say my name again.”

[or0ch1maru]

Hey CJ! Sorry to hear that you're not having the best day :( I hope it gets better! Or the very least, please do take care of yourself and maybe treat yourself to something nice for all your hardwork!💖

I've got a fun lil F,M,K scenario for you😊Who would you F,M,K? Grimmjow, Kenpachi and Obito?

AND Obito, Hidan, Toji? ^-^

And I've got some random lil questions to ask!

- Do you bake? If so, what are your favorite things to make? If not, what are your favorite baked goods?

- if you could choose to be in any anime verse, which one would you choose and why?

- What's a favorite dish you like from your culture?

- if you had all the money in the world, what would be the first big purchase you would make?

- what is your favorite holiday? Mine is Halloween!

- a random fact about literally anything?

I heard that you're taking requests for some angst! Can I request some headcanons or drabble about kakuzu or Hidan comforting you when you're crying? Or how would the akatsuki be after they broke up with their partner? Or how would they try and get back with their s/o after a breakup? This request was inspired by the JJK post you reblogged ngl😅😅

I'm sorry that this ask became long😅😅 but I hope your day gets better!! Hang in there!!💗💗💗

hiiii bbys! Thanks to everyone who sent in kind words. I’m doing better! <3 so let’s get into it🫵🏻

•

I PHYSICALLY cannot answer those f,m,k. It pains me too much🤣 I love them all equally and there’s no way hahah

•

I hate cooking, I have horrendous anxiety being in the kitchen if I’m making something more complicated than ramen or pasta. But in regards too my favorite baked goods, definitely cream puffs! Or fruit tarts. My go to’s Everytime! Gonna buy myself a fruit tart for my birthday next month🥺

Bleach and Naruto. The aesthetic itself are just pleasing and they have so many complex characters, and the views are gorgeous lol. I could go on but it’d be too much

So, I’m part Jamaican on my mums side and part Panamanian on my fathers. I only recently reconnected with him so I have yet to try anything. Now, in regards to my favorite meal, nothing beats my mums homemade curry.

I have no idea lmfao. I’m not one to want a huge fancy house or all these fancy cars. I’d rather just pay off my bills and quit my job. Play it day by day tbh

HALLOWEEN! Every year I go to universal Orlando for HHN. I’m always back before Halloween and I dress up and do my makeup to do haunts in our yard lol. That and scary movies every day of the month and just ugh🫶🏻best holiday

For my random fact, I’ll tell you something about myself. I’m 4’10. And I love platform shoes. I own some boots and platform sandals. I hope to expand my collection!

•

I personally think every member of the akatsuki would distance themselves for starters but they’d creep back into your life slowly, but differently so let’s get intoooooo it!🫵🏻

18+, mentions of stalking,makeup sex, coercion ideations, possessive behavior and akatsuki member being mean to reader but apologizing, pervy tobi

Slight au, mentions of cellphones, phone calls, texts, etc

Hidan:

-totally gonna be the one to put as much distance between you and him. Especially when he knows he was the one to fuck things up

-but he somehow always knows where you are, who you’re with, and what you’re doing

-if he hears you’re hanging out with another guy, no matter how much time has passed since the split, just know you’ll receive some drunk texts from him. Maybe him even showing up to your place

-he’d be mean at first, talking about how nobody could treat you better than him, or fuck you better than him

-would somehow end up on top of you, showing you how much he missed you by stuffing your cunt

-if you ever want to see him cry, just know this is how. He’d be whispering such filth into your ear, burying his face in your neck to hide his tears and hopefully stifle the way his voice cracks when he admits he’s sorry and how he can’t go on without you

Kakuzu:

-he’d be the silent ex. Would only pay attention if someone brings you up in conversation, mentioning what you’re doing or how you’ve been

-Kakuzu would check in on you every once in a while. He’s a grumpy old man who’s soft spot was for you and you only

-if he realized or you told him you’re not doing okay. He be over to your place within the hour to comfort you.

-if it ends with you two back together, he’d be the happiest man alive. Yet he wouldn’t voice it. Ever

-would send you money to spoil yourself, he’d always tell you it’s not to win you back but deep down he hopes it would change your mind. Isn’t the type to beg for you to come back. He wants you to come back to him only if YOU want too

Konan:

-such a sweetheart, she’d give you anything you want. If you tell her you two can stay friends, she’d be the best friend a person could ever ask for

-if you tell her you want space, she’s more than happy to give you as much space as you need

-if you tell her to fuck off and never speak to her again, as painful as that would be for her. She’d do it. She just wants you to be happy, even if that means without her

-is always super kind and respectful if you two run into each other in the village but wouldn’t go seeking you out without reason

-just like Hidan, always knows what you’ve been up too. Not because she’s following your every move, but sticks close by in case something happens to you (she hears updates from your friends because they adored her. Thought she was the best gf you’ve ever had)

Pain:

-I believe he’s similar to Kakuzu. Pain would distance himself for his own sanity. Knowing you’re off being happy without him, kills him

-only speaks to you if you reach out to him first. Wouldn’t even ask how you’re doing if you didn’t say something to him beforehand

-misses you dearly, but knows space is the best option for the two of you

-wouldn’t hesitate to make your new bf ‘disappear’ when he hears you’re seeing someone new. Hoping that you’ll eventually come running back to him if your new partners keep ghosting you suddenly

Itachi:

-is super respectful, as much as he’s hurting inside, the break up would never turn sour

-no fighting, screaming, or hurtful words. Gives you a kind smile every time he runs into you in the village. A hug or a shoulder/head pat only if you’re comfortable

-would remain your friend afterwards. Being very respectful towards your new partners if you start seeing anyone. Doesn’t go out of his way to be rude or cruel to either of you

-doesn’t hesitate to give you a shoulder to cry on if you need someone to talk too. Even if you’re venting about your new man

-makes sure you always have everything you may need or want and that you can always rely on him if something goes wrong

Kisame:

-gets over the split relatively quick. Is content to stay your friend, but if you decide to distance yourself completely. He’s fine with that as well

-it would take him a long time to delete pics and videos of the two of you just because you were the best thing to come into his life.

-when the time comes that he decides to delete everything out of his phone, he’ll keep a picture or two just for comfort

-looking at it when he has a bad day or to remind him that there’s still good in the world.

-would be nice to your new partner when introduced but would knit pick everything about him. Knowing that no one will treat you like he did

Deidara:

-you were his first real relationship and would be devastated about it. Dei would give you all the space in the world after the break up but the second you reach out to him, he wouldn’t hesitate to slowly make his way back into your life

-he would ask to hang out with you on the days you were free,

-would make up random excuses or reasons for popping by your place even if he had no reason to be in the village in the first place

-would leave you clay gifts on your windowsill once in a while, especially since you loved his art so much

-would leave sweet notes as well. Something like “miss you” or “have a good day” etc

Sasori:

-I feel like he wouldn’t truly register it at the beginning.

-would kinda just shrug shit off. Wouldn’t pay much mind to you for a while, weeks, maybe a few months afterwards

-he’s not rude, or nice, he’s neutral about things. He’d reminisce about the times you shared but it wouldn’t make him sad or depressed

- if you reached out, calling or texting him, he’d reply. Out of respect mostly. Sasori would ask how you’re doing and would be glad to know you’re doing good

Tobi:

-he’d be devastated. Come on, like look at him

-would distance himself from his comrades outside of missions, he’d put on a brave front in front of them when it came to work but if he’s alone. He’s breaking

-once he’s gotten the crying out of his system he would not hesitate to keep tabs on your every move.

-he may or may not even cause something just so you have an excuse to come running to him. Knowing he’d be the one to fix things and make things right

-would be subtle about his obsession with you. Would run into you in town on more than one occasion, using the same old excuse of “didn’t think I’d run into you here”

-keeps all the nudes and videos you sent him, using those to make himself cum. Or better yet, the home movies you two made

-he knows it’s wrong, but that’s not going to stop him. Bites down on his bottom lip to keep himself quiet as he strokes his length, listening to the way you’d sound as you took him to the hilt

-totally wouldn’t sneak into your place while you’re out to steal a pair of your panties, or a shirt of yours just to have your scent.

Zetsu:

-is more like Sasori tbh. At the start that is. Especially black Zetsu

-I think at the beginning it wouldn’t affect him much and if it did, it’s mostly white Zetsu. He’d let out a few tears, asking where and why you’ve run off. Leaving him behind

-while black Zetsu’s mean about it. Talking about how you’re a no good person to just up and leave him(he may or may not be delusional)

-he’s stalking you. Full blown

-even if he’s off on his own missions, he’d track you down and watch you for a while before going off. Acting as if nothing happened.

-would not speak to you which as weird as it sounds I feel is on par with him. Would maybe send a single text back if you messaged him but apart from that it’s as if he’s vanished completely. To you that is, you don’t know that he’s been inside your house, touching your belongings or following at a distance as you go on a date with to your new bae

-only to find a text from an unknown number of you and your bf at the cafe in town. It’s his way of showing you, you can’t fully get rid of him

•

I hope you loved this. Now I want some requests of crying Hidan x reader, perv tobi and stalker zetsu. Didn’t realize how hot those are lol

[andydrysdalerogers]

Yours Submissively ~ Experimentation

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: the taglist is open!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Solitude

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

The rest of the day was awkward for Belle.  She couldn’t avoid Tony, but she kept her interaction with him short. She was fuming; he had no right, no say in her life.  He wasn’t her father. At 3PM, Maria Hill called in all of the exiting interns for a glass of champagne and a toast.  After, she had an exit interview with Pepper.  At 355, she packed up her small personal items. “Belle?” 

She looked up to see Tony standing there. “Anything else before I go Mr. Stark?” 

“No, I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean that Steve isn’t a good guy just that I wanted you to be smart and safe.”  

Tony was feeling the guilt more today.  But Belle didn’t need to know that.  She didn’t need to know that he had known her father.  Not really friends, but close.  He thought back to day… 

“Phil!” Pepper stood up to greet the SHIELD agent.   

“Uh, his first name is Agent.”   

Tony couldn’t believe the man had breached his security and tried to deflect him. Pepper had convinced him to read over the incident with the tesseract. He would be meeting with others including Captain Steven Rogers, the man who worked with his father on Project Rebirth.  As Pepper made her way out with Agent Coulson, he overheard their conversations.  

“I want to hear all about that cellist.”   

“She moved back to Portland.  Belle is pretty upset about it…” 

* 

Fast forward to Tony arriving to the helicarrier and Tony’s offer to fly him to Portland.  “Just pick a day, keep love alive.”  

“I can’t, have to get back to my daughter.” 

“Daughter?” 

“Yeah, Belle.”  He showed a photo of a sweet looking girl with dark hair and blue eyes.  “She’s off radar so if you…” 

“Yeah, sure no problem.” Tony had arrived to the conference room… 

* 

Captain Rogers and Tony stood in the cell area, looking at the blood-stained wall where Phil Coulson had died.  

“Was he married?” 

“No, there was…” Tony hesitated. She’s off radar… “there was a cellist.” Tony kept his secret until he could talk to Fury.  

* 

It was a couple of days after New York.  “What is going to happen to her?” 

Fury looked at him.  “A couple of agents picked her up when Loki became a problem and took her to New Jersey.  She’s being placed there for her safety.”  

“I’d like to sponsor her until she’s done with school.  The least I could do for Coulson.”   

“I’ll make arrangements for her to receive it as a scholarship if you’d like.”  

“Thanks. Let’s just keep that between us for now. The rest of the team doesn’t have to know.”  

“Tony, there is something you need to know before we move forward…” 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.  I do have to go.” She picked up her bag.  

“I’ll walk you out.”  They made their way to the elevators in silence.  Tony cleared his throat.  “So, training in a month?” 

“Yeah, this will be weird.  Teaching.”  

“You’ll be great.  Your graduation is next Friday?” 

“Yeah at 6 PM.”  

They reached the bottom floor and Tony guided her out, hand on her back.  Outside, Bucky was waiting next to the SUV.  When he saw Belle, he opened the door and took her bag.  “Afternoon Belle, Stark.”  

“Hi Bucky.  Thank you.”  She turned to Tony and stuck out her hand.  “Thank you for everything Mr. Stark.”  

“The pleasure was mine Belle.  Good luck… with everything.” He let go. “Barnes, take care of her.”  

Bucky merely nodded and closed Belle’s door. He climbed in and started to make his way to Jersey.  “So last day?  Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine Bucky.  Just tired.”  

“What was Stark’s problem?  You looked really uncomfortable around him.”  

“It’s nothing.”  

“Belle, sweetheart, you know you can talk to me. I can be a friend in the world of supers.” Bucky gave her a look in the mirror. 

“Can I sit up front with you?” 

Bucky pulled over and Belle climbed up to the front.  “So, talk.” 

“Tony decided to comment on my life.”  

“How do you mean?”  

“He figured out that Steve and I are dating.  Well, I told him that Steve was my boyfriend and he flipped.  Said that Steve wasn’t good enough for me.”  

“What the… ok Belle, listen. Tony was out of line.”   

“Would Steve really hurt me?” 

“Sweetheart, no.  Steve would do anything to protect you. Stark is just talking out of his ass.”  

“I assume you know about Steve’s… ah preferences?” 

Bucky looked straight ahead.  “I do.”  

“As my friend,” Belle chewed her lip. “Should I be worried?” 

“Belle you can always say no.  Steve wouldn’t ignore you if something makes you uncomfortable.  Truly, he cares about you sweetheart.  I’ve never seen him like this before.  I mean…” he stops.  “No one else ever came close.”  

“Does Tony know about his lifestyle?” 

‘No,” Bucky looked at her. “I make sure no one does. Just like no one will know about you if you decide to leave.   But I want you to stay.  If only for the French toast.” He smirked at her and she blushed.  

Making it to Jersey was quick and Bucky spoke with Lila while Belle got her stuff together.  She got ready for dinner and made her way out.  She stopped when she saw Bucky kissing Lila.  She cleared her throat and turned around, not wanting embarrass them more.  “I’m ready Bucky.”  

“I’ll see you later Li?” He kissed her softly and Belle looked away. 

Lila giggled and nodded.   She hugged Belle.   “Are you going to be ok?” 

“Yeah.  Just the weekend with Steve.  I’ll be back on Sunday night.  Big week ahead.”  

“I know Miss Valedictorian. You have speech to write.”  

Belle flushed.  She hadn’t mentioned to anyone else of the honor she received. “Bye Li.”  She and Bucky exited the apartment.  

“So…” 

“Please don’t.  No one knows.”  

“Why?  That’s a huge honor.”  

“Everyone expects my family to be there for the stuff before.  The luncheon and stuff. I don’t have one so what’s the point.”  

“Belle, c’mon.   You have us, Steve, Lila, me.  We can be your family.”  

Belle fell silent and just looked out the window.  They made it back into Manhattan with 20 minutes to spare. Bucky drove around, trying to coax her back out.  “Belle, please.  Steve is going to kill me if I am sending you to him upset.” 

“I’m fine Bucky.  Just ready for graduation to be over.”  

Bucky pulled up to the restaurant and opened her door. “Tell Steve.  I promise he’ll be proud and supportive. And mention anything else you’re worried about.”   He alluded to her concerns about being hurt. 

“Thank you, Buck.”  Belle walked into the restaurant and the maitre’d looked at her.  “Miss Davis?” 

“Yes.” 

“Follow me.”  He guided her to a private room where Steve was waiting.  

“Isabella, you look beautiful.” He kissed her cheek and helped her into her chair.  

“Thank you, Steve.”  

“I took the liberty of having the chef give us a tasting menu.  I hope that’s ok.”  

“It’s fine.  Best way to taste everything,” she said with a forced smile.  

Steve studied her.  “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.  It was a long day.”  

“Don’t lie to me. Please baby, don’t.”  

Belle waited as the waiter poured the selected wine for them.  Once he was out of the room, she took a deep breath. “I’m nervous for this weekend.  Steve, are you going to hurt me?  I don’t want you to hurt me.”  Her mind comes up with the images she had searched.  Of her being bound and gagged while a whip would crack over the back.  She hitched her breath in remembrance.  

“Why would you assume that I want to hurt you?” 

“I did my research.”  

Steve chuckled.  She was such a good girl for him.  “Belle, will it hurt?   A little.  But only to provide you pleasure.  I want you to enjoy it.  The moment its not enjoyable, we stop. That’s why we decided on this weekend.  To gage what you do and do not like.”  

“I don’t want to be whipped.  I don’t want you to mark me when you hit me.”  

“Ok, that’s good.  This is what I want us to do.  You tell me what the limits are. Communications is the only way this will work.”  He stopped at the first course was brought out.  

“I did see something intriguing.  It’s like a whip but soft.”  

“A flogger?  We can try it.  It may bite but not as hard as you think.” Steve smiled at her. “I have an idea if you trust me.” 

“I trust you.” She didn’t hesitate in her response.  

They made it through dinner and Belle took a moment.  “Steve?” 

“Yes, sweet pea?” 

“Sweet pea?” 

“You like sweets, you’re sweet.   You are my sweet pea.  What did you need?” 

“I have an event to go to on Wednesday and I was wondering if you would go with me.”  

“Sure, what is it?”  

“It’s a luncheon with the alumni association.  For the valedictorian.”  

“Valedictorian? Isabella are you…” 

Belle lowered her eyes, a blush forming. Steve used his fingers to lift her face. “That is an honor. Congratulations.  Yes, of course.  I’ll clear my schedule.” He leaned and kissed her gently.  “I am so proud of you sweet pea.” 

She blushed and kissed him back.  

They finished up and Bucky picked them up and took them back to the apartment.  He dropped them off and said, “I’m headed to Lila’s.  See you in the morning for breakfast.”  He winked at Belle.  

“Goodnight, Buck,” Steve said.  He took Belle up to the apartment.  They went straight to the playroom. Steve could feel Belle’s heart pounding.  “Breathe princess. I promise, you tell me to stop, and I will.”  

“Yes.”  

“Yes what?” 

“Yes, sir.”  

“Good girl. Turn and face the bed.”  She turned and Steve grasped the zipper and pulled it down slowly, running a finger down her spine.  Belle’s breath hitched with the sensation. The dress dropped and pooled around her heels.  “Turn back around,” he ordered.  She spun again.  “You are beautiful princess.” He cupped her face and kissed her.  She moaned into it and Steve smiled.  He lowered his hands and reached to remove her bra.  He stepped back and took her in, just panties and heels.  

He licked his lips and led her to the bed.  He kneeled in front of her and pulled down her panties, sliding them slowly down her legs. Belle’s breath was ragged, every touch setting her aflame. “Step, princess.” She complied immediately. “Lay down on the bed.”  Each order sent a wave of arousal to her core.  She climbed to the center of the bed, still in her heels.  The sheets were silky smooth but stark white.  

“Raise your arms above your head.” Belle moved her arms. She looked to see where Steve was.  He came into view with a royal blue silk rope.  He took the length and wrapped her wrist gently.  “Don’t pull,” he said as he tied it to the bed. He checked for the tightness. “What is your safe word?” 

“Red sir.”  

“And your go signal?” 

“Blue sir.”  

“Good girl.   Spread your legs.”  She hesitated.  “Princess,” he warned.  She moved her legs.  He took additional rope and tied an ankle to each post. He took in, spread out and waiting.  He could see she was wet and needy.  “I don’t think I want you to see anymore.”  He took off his tie and wrapped it to cover her eyes.  He placed a kiss on her and leaned up to keep it going.  

“My greedy girl. Patience.”  Steve took off the rest of his clothes and placed a condom onto the bedside table.  He went to his toy wall and took out the red flogger and an egg vibrator.  He made his way back to Belle.  She was squirming, needing him. He got in-between her legs and ran a finger through her folds. She mewled at the sudden touch and tried to close her legs. “So wet for me princess. Do you like being at my mercy?” 

“Yes.”  He slapped her clit and she cried out.  “I’m sorry.  Yes, sir,” she corrected.  

“Good girl.  My princess is a good girl,” Steve coo’d at her.  He kissed her clit in comfort and then licked to taste the nectar coming from her.  “You taste so good princess.” He reached up and put the vibrator on her mouth.  “Suck,” he ordered.  She opened her mouth and felt the heavy object on her tongue. He pulled it out of her mouth and went back to her pussy.  He fingered her slightly and then pushed the vibrator in.   She gasped. “Its ok Belle, it’s a vibrator.”  

“Steve…” 

“No.”  

“I’m sorry sir.”  She trembled.  

“I promise, you will enjoy it.”  Steve reached up to kiss her.  “If its too much just let me know.”  He got off the bed and reached for the flogger.  He set the vibrator to low, watching as Belle squirmed at the sensation.  He smiled and took a stance and flicked his wrist, letting the flogger fly and slap Belle’s skin on her belly. She jumped and moaned.  “Are you ok? Color?” 

“Blue sir.   I’m ok.”  

“Did that hurt?” 

“No sir.”  

“Good.  See, it’s in your mind,” he reassured her. “I’m going to go a little harder. Tell me to stop if it hurts, ok?” 

“Yes sir.”   

“Good girl.”   He flicked his wrist harder, allowing the flogger to strike her breasts.   She pulled on the restraints and cried out. “Don’t pull princess, I don’t want you to hurt.”  He tried again over her legs, and she continued to moan in response.   He let go harder and harder, increasing the vibrator with each strike until she cried on the eighth strike over her abdomen.  

“No, stop!” She cried.  

“Ok, ok,” he dropped the flogger.  He took some lotion and rubbed her belly.  She moaned at his gentleness, and he increased the vibrator, causing her to scream.  

“Steve, please!”  She could feel herself close to the edge.  He reached and pulled the vibrator out, listening her to groan and he climbed between her legs.  He rolled onto the condom and thrusted inside.  She screamed again, feeling her clench around him.  He thrusted quickly in and out.  

“C’mon princess.  You know you want to.”  

“Please,” she pleaded.  He wrapped his mouth around her nipple and sucked hard. She wanted to have him close but her legs were still tied. She had to just take what he gave her. Steve reached up to release her hands and she brought them down on his back and gripped.  

“Let go Isabella,” Steve pleaded, feeling himself reaching his peak. He thrusted harder and she detonated, pulsing and sucking him in.  He pushed in and released, filling the condom, moaning her name.  He slowed his pace, kissing Belle gently as he did.  He pulled out slowly, not wanting to hurt her.  He released the ropes and went to the bathroom to get a warm towel.  She pulled her legs close, flexing them to get feeling back into them. He came back and cleaned her gently.  Then he rubbed her ankles and arms.  

Steve went and grabbed two robes.  He placed the blue one on himself and sat Belle up.  He wrapped the white robe around her and carried her to his room.  He grabbed a shirt and put it on her and lifted her to bed.  He wanted her close tonight, not feeling comfortable leaving her alone after her first experience in his playroom. He cleaned himself up and put on pajama bottoms.  He climbed into the bed and pulled Isabella close.  

He felt her settle and he smiled.  And he stopped.  Because he knew what he was doing was dangerous. 

* 

* 

* 

Because falling in love with her would put her in danger.  

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@jennmurawski13-writes

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@amiquette

[the-man-in-the-suit-official]

Scott Street.

Summary: You’ve risen to new found stardom, but an old flame from the past insists on winning you back. A continuation of You’ve Become My Ceiling.

A/N: Genuinely sorry for the infrequent posting! I’ll get around soon. Formatting was also getting on my nerves.

Taglist: @reveriehs @belovedcherry

Reader Pronouns: Any

Length: Long? 5,667 Words.

Celebrities: Harry E. Styles

TW: Angst, Cheating

Song(s) To Listen To:

Your hands gripped the slick phone, eyebrows furrowed and heart feeling frozen and still. The phone was attempting to tell you that you’d missed a call, but your eyes were out of focus as you gathered your thoughts.

It was Harry.

Part of you wished it to be a dream, but the other part was curious, yet cautious. Your life had been a little bland the past few years, though you’d never admit it, you missed the adventures and midnight memories.You missed your best friend. That’s who you were still grieving, not the cheating liar who broke your heart over six times.

It had been a week and you’d failed to notice the call, only now discovering it while cleaning out your phone. There was a voicemail, but your hands were far too shaky to play it. You gave yourself a moment to calm down and played it slowly.

A small chuckle came from the recording, “Heh. Um, hey, (Y/N). I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but…You know I’m proud of you. And also…I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

His voice broke a little, “I know how much pain I caused now. I was stupid and young and it’s not an excuse, but I’m just really sorry. I wish I could do it all back again. I still can’t find the answer to why I did the things I did to you, either. You were the one thing that had loved me since before I was famous. I was an idiot to have let that go.”

There was sniffing on the other end, “You’re such a good person. And I…I really hollowed you out. I never even gave you a true apology. I miss my best friend. I became someone I didn’t know or want - someone I’d be repulsed by now. Someone I’d never want around you. I’m sorry.”

Harry cleared his throat, “But I’m proud of you, is all. You left and did greater things for yourself.”

It was silent for a moment again, “I never knew you could sing so beautifully. I’d like to hear it in person, if I could. You took a big part of me when you left, (Y/N). I still…I still feel the same way. Always have. But, um…Get back to me when you can- I mean, if you want. Alright. Bye.”

Taking a deep breath, you waited until the longing finally brushed itself off of you and was replaced by neutrality. The old memories resurfaced. Finding Harry in bed with another. On a date with someone you’d seen with him before.

You put your phone down and walked away, trying to collect yourself.

-

As for Harry, four and a half years changed him just as they did then. When you left, the guilt destroyed a piece of his heart, and he made his best attempt to be what he couldn’t be for you. He hadn’t dated since then, hadn’t felt he was worthy enough, really. He’d dedicated the entirety of Harry Styles - his debut album - to you, though he was sure you had no idea. Even now, his journal was filled to the brim with songs about you, most prevalent, some variation of a song he’s called, “Falling.” It was a heavy song, but the lyrics stuck with him.

They told the story of his departure from you, cheating and all, though the public wasn’t aware that it even happened.

His apartment smelt of lavender and poppies, even as he made his breakfast and did their daily duties. His album had released about a year ago, maybe a little less, and he hit stardom like he had never expected it. Taking a break from touring for even a week was well worth it. He loved his fans, sure, but it was draining to be a musician. Nonetheless, he was grateful.

Harry didn’t even expect you to make a call back. He just wanted to say sorry, truly, from the bottom of his heart, because he was different then. Fame changes you. And he should have never let that happen to him.

He knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness.

So it was a surprise to him when a message appeared on his phone two months after the initial voicemail.

Y/N: Hey, Haz.

-

Jack was a tall man who was more legs than anything. He was stern, always looked at you with a taut expression, and would put you in your place, but oh, how he was completely soft for you. You’d met through his grandparents, who he took care of in his nice, spacious house. He and his grandparents were your neighbors, but you’d met his grandparents at a park years prior, engaging in small chat very often.

They’d loved Harry, though you were both sure they had positively no idea who he was aside from your boyfriend. Lily, the woman, would never hesitate to pinch his cheeks and comment on how amazing the two of you looked. You’d both expressed hope in wanting to be like them, growing old together, but here you were without your other half.

After your breakup, you’d rented a cozy apartment right next to Jack and his family’s house (though it was unbeknownst to you), and found that the park was relatively close to it. But as you walked on the trail, you came to find that everything seemed to have lost its shine. No longer did the water glisten so bright, or did the roses avoid withering like they simply couldn’t die, but everything was so undeniably…normal. Harry had shaken your life, only to disappear later, leaving you back in something that should have been comfortable, but was instead foreign. Normalcy was foreign.

“Oh, my dear!” The familiar voice, loaded with a beautiful French accent, slipped its way into your ears, and you tore your eyes away from the pond, behind you and finding the couple, holding something up to you, “You’ve dropped this.”

Lily brought the small item to you, showing you that in her gloved hands lay a necklace, a mother of pearl inside the locket. Harry had gifted it to you for your one year anniversary.

You furrowed your brows at the memory before she noticed it.

“Where is the handsome boy?” She tried to get her point across, even with the language barrier, “The one with the curly head? Tall? Le Britannique ?”

You felt the winter air nip at you more than it already had in your light jacket, “No, no, he is not here.”

She tilted her head in confusion, her husband watching over her, knowing even less English than she did. Harry had always been the translator for you, so speaking without him made it frustratingly harder.

“He has been gone for quite some time.”

You looked down, and in this, they seemed to both understand you. Paulie, her husband, took his coat off, placing it over your shoulders. The weight seemed comforting now.

“Aw, mon chou, come have a cup of tea with us,” Lily held your shoulders, slipping the necklace into your hands.

Despite your protest, you found yourself in their lovely home, surprised to see that they were a direct neighbor, “Jack, nous avons amené un chien errant !”

Lily smiled back at you before turning back and looking down at someone in the next room. You entered it, never really breaking away from her vibrant blue eyes, before you saw what she was looking at. Or rather, who. He was young, maybe just a bit older than you, and had eyes more alluring than hers. He had a slim figure and face, with a longer nose that matched, and tousled, short brown hair. His slender fingers were placed on the piano keys as he sat. He was breathtakingly handsome, really, and despite you not finding any sort of attraction in him, seeing as you just met, there was no doubt about his conventional attractiveness.

“Bonjour ?” He’d asked, his right eye squinting as if he were trying to scan every detail about you.

His expression softened into a smile shortly after, his eyes half-lidded when he got no response, “Hi. I see you’ve met my grandparents. Eager, aren’t they?”

You smiled back, chuckling, “You could say that.”

And it all started there. You’d started to take piano and French lessons from Jack, who after hearing about your still unnamed ex, wanted to help the best he could. You’d taken up piano for your career, and French, well, simply to prove to yourself that you really didn’t need Harry. Not for French, and not for life.

You and Jack had been good friends for a year now, knowing each other for about three before you’d really connected, so it felt right to turn to him and spill your gossip all over his fancy blue canopy bed during a hangout.

“Wait…” He started, surprised and clutching his elbows, arms crossed, “Your ex is Harry Styles?!”

You stuffed your face into a pillow, “That’s what you take away, Jack?! Everyone knows that!”

“Well, I didn’t! You know I can’t handle all the social media stuff, I avoid it like the plague!” Defensively and rather playfully, he rested a hand on his chest. He was wearing a brown and green sweater vest with brown dress pants and a white shirt, a nice green bowtie to tie his look together for his last day shadowing a French professor.

“The point is,” You giggled at the older man who seemed more like a best friend to you now, “I’m really not sure what to do here. He sounds so sincere, and maybe I fell out of love with the person he became a long time ago, but if he’s the same person I grew up with…Well…”

“No way. You can’t go back,” He paced, a hand on his chin, a habit of his you’d always loved.

You whined, “But can’t I? If I just want to rekindle the friendship we had before-“

“What are you going to do when you find him in bed with someone else again?”

Your heart stopped. He was right, of course.

“I’ll be respectful,” You responded sternly, “He isn’t mine.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Well, I can’t change your mind. I know you. Just be careful. It could be good for you, who knows? I just…don’t want you to get hurt again, (Y/N).”

Smiling with excitement, you thanked him countless times for listening to you and your rambles. You left shortly thereafter, and his smile fell as soon as the door shut behind you.

It was then you texted Harry, just a simple text, though it took you hours to finally hit the send button. He responded not a minute later, and you jumped at the sound.

HAZ: (Y/N), hi.

The name you never bothered to change in your contacts.

The two of you texted on and off casually, before deciding that maybe it would be better to catch up in a coffee shop. You were nervous, admittedly, but nonetheless stunned when you were escorted to your private booth at the Beachwood Café.

All you wore was a jumper and jeans, nothing too fancy, but you couldn’t help trying to style your hair in a way he would like.

He had been the first to arrive, you’d seen him in the window, twiddling his thumbs anxiously. God, did he look good as ever. His hair had grown out a bit more than the last time you saw him, and he’d dressed in clothes more personal to him, a shirt with small puppies printed on it under a knitted cardigan, baggy jeans and rings. He was definitely richer than the last you saw him, but the thing was, he was still your Haz, that much was noticeable.

The waiter led you to your table and you gently sat your bag down on the floor, sitting across from him. He’d been waiting for you, not even ordering yet.

“You look amazing,” He spoke, seemingly subconsciously.

“You’re not so bad yourself, H.”

And it was true. He looked cleaner, happier. Like he was taking care of himself. Everything was going well, and to be honest, it made you beyond happy. It was as if you were friends again, and nothing bad ever happened. Eventually, the topic reached Gemma somehow.

“So, I heard Gemma finally graduated,” You continued, “That’s wonderful! I always knew she could do it. She’s rather smart.”

“She’s great! She’s married now, you know. He’s wonderful, just feels a bit…weird. That she has someone now and I don’t.”

“Recent breakup?” You’d asked, a genuine question.

“No,” He chuckled, “Not at all. I worked on myself. Haven’t dated since you.”

A small gust of wind came through the window beside you, and you blamed the shivers on that. There was a gentle pause, but you shook your head and continued, “Oh, I see.”

There was obviously still a spark there, you’d noticed. Your heart still beat wildly to the tune of his.

“But, erm,” You continued, and he cleared his throat, “That makes me feel old.”

He scoffed playfully, his arms crossed, “What does that make me, then?”

You giggled. The two of you weren’t so far off, really. Just a couple of months, but he always managed to mention it.

“An old man,” You joked, and even the humor was still there.

His chuckle sent butterflies throughout your stomach.

“So, how’s the band?” You tilted your head.

You hadn’t really noticed that breaking things off with him would essentially alienate them, too.

“Well, Mitch and Sarah are getting married,” You did a bit of a double take.

“Wow, I mean, I knew it was going to happen, I just had no idea.

“A lot changes in our lives,” He spoke smoothly as the waiter came.

“Hey guys, my name is Carson, I’ll be your server this morning! What can I get for you?” He was younger, bright-eyed.

“I’ll just have an Americano and the strawberry crepes,” Harry didn’t even have to look at his menu, and yet you were scrambling to know what you wanted before he got to you.

“Alright,” The waiter wrote it down before turning back to you, “And for the spouse?”

Your face flushed red, “Oh, no, I’m not!”

Harry only chuckled and watched in amusement as the waiter became embarrassed, too.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry, then what can I get for you?” He rubbed the back of his neck and you giggled once more.

“Hazelnut hot latte and almond croissant, please, Carson.”

He nodded and left soon after.

“I listened to your songs, by the way,” Harry began slowly, “How’s that?”

“Well, one thing they don’t prepare you for as a strictly-solo show is how heavy the equipment is, like the drums? Jeez, don’t get me started.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “You’ve always took on way more than you could carry.”

“Yeah, well, suppose that’s me,” A smile found its way to your face, “But being alone is good. I needed that.”

He nodded again, “Yeah, I think I did, too.”

There was the beginning of a pause, but you still refused to let it linger, “I live on Scott Street now.”

“Oh, by the rose park?” He perked up, “I love that place.”

“I know,” You said bashfully, “Harry, our first date was there.”

“Wasn’t sure you’d remember,” He smiled back.

“But how could I forget?”

It had been magical, with swans skimming the water, almost as in love as you and Harry were. Had been. Are.

“Oh, but remember that old French couple we ran into? I know it’s quite random, but I ran into them again while I was having a bad day. They noticed we weren’t together anymore, and next thing I knew, I was at their house drinking a cup of tea. They’re quite nice. Their grandson, he lives with them, showed me a bit of piano.”

He remembered it well, you had said that you wanted the two of you to last even longer than they, and you had even hoped they’d be your spitting metaphorical image in decades.

“Anyway, I’m learning French now, I guess. And I found out we’re neighbors, isn’t that weird?” Carson set everything down on your table as you talked.

“Anything else for now?”

“No, thank you,” Harry didn’t even look up at him, listening intently. He didn’t even notice when Carson had left.

“So, now I take piano lessons on Fridays, and French lessons on Tuesday and Thursday. But his grandparents have been acting a bit odd - think they want me to stick around for more than just lessons,” You chuckled and sipped your latte.

You could’ve sworn Harry’s eye twitched, but you dismissed it, “That’s…great. I’m glad. You always wanted to learn French.”

“Right? You should come with sometime, you’d like him,” You hadn’t even noticed you were now arranging a second hangout. But he did. He always noticed.

“I’d love to,” It was oddly fast.

“Well, he’s invited me to a dinner party for his work - he’s a French professor. But he’s only been out of college a couple of months. Got his PhD. He’s nice, I think you’d like him!”

You looked down, fiddling with your thumbs, “But if you’re busy that’s totally fine! I just don’t wanna stick out like a sore thumb, is all. And it was always more fun when we stuck out together.”

He blushed, and in that moment, he would have done anything in the world you’d ask of him.

“Consider my plans all clear that day, alright?” He held your hands, “It's about time we did something as friends again.”

You nodded with a smile, “Okay, you’re right.”

You two split ways shortly after, Harry having insisted on paying the bill. He was happy to be talking to you, sure, but there was still a sinking feeling he felt when you were mentioned.

Shame.

You had piano lessons that night, and you wore the same outfit, feeling exhausted just from the interaction. Jack had greeted you happily.

“Mon cherie! (Y/N), come in!” He stepped aside, “Nana and Papa are out, so it’s just us today.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Jack reached for the cupboard, “Nana just got this new wine, and I think it’s quite lovely.”

“Sure!” You agreed, sitting at their small dining table, “Oh, Jack, I hope you don’t mind! I invited a friend of mine to come to the meeting with me. Both of us have always been interested in French, so I figured it would be perfect!”

Jack, in all truthfulness, assumed it would be a woman, and thus, agreed.

“Not a problem, cherie,” He handed you a glass, full with dark red liquid, and he drank from his cup slowly.

You watched him aimlessly, his Adam’s Apple defined, bobbing up and down. Like he hadn’t had anything to drink all day. Jack was like that, he’d forget to eat, sleep, drink. He was always so busy with work. You admired him for it.

“You know, you should remember to drink more often. Have you eaten at all today?” Tilting your head, he shook his and set his cup down.

“How could you tell?”

You chuckled and stood up, holding one of his cheeks in your hands, examining his lips, “You drink way too desperately.”

He was a little stunned, to say the least, and gripped the counter, his stomach in knots.

“But,” You wiped his upper lip with your thumb, ridding the excess wine off before moving to the stove, “I’ll make you something. I owe you after all these free lessons, anyways.”

He slumped, disappointed, but continued onward, “I could never ask that of you, but…that sounds very nice.”

“Then consider it done, Cherie.” You mimicked him, getting to work.

Afterward, your lessons continued as normal, and you were actually getting pretty far along.

-

“So, (Y/N),” Jack finally looked up from his paperwork, having left you with some French worksheets, “Nana and Papa wanted me to invite you to The French Riviera with us. Figured it would be a good learning experience. I agree, what do you think?”

You thought hard before answering the question on the worksheet and looking back up at him, shrugging, “Sure! That sounds lovely. When?”

“Well, they plan to order the tickets this weekend. We were just waiting on your oh-so-busy schedule,” He smiled, his dimples showing rather lovely.

“Oh, I can do it anytime! The glory of being a musician with no tour dates. Your meeting is in a month, yes?” You finished your worksheet and turned to him.

He nodded, causing a single strand of hair to fall in his eyes, “Oui, mais la réunion sera courte .”

You exhaled a chuckle at his quiz, “Okay, then how about next weekend?”

“You’re getting good, Chérie,” It gave you a proud smile.

“Then it’s settled. Send me the details,” You checked your clock, “Jeez, it’s already 8PM. I was supposed to write another song for the debut album.”

“Well, feel free to use me as a muse,” He smiled again, and it was a joke, but something struck you quite suddenly.

He had been there for you for years, and the thought of thanking him never even crossed your damned mind, distracted by your old lover. As you entered your house, you walked straight to your desk, completely in a trance as you thought about him. He was amazing, someone everyone should have in their lives, so how come you’d never noticed?

Daydreamer.

With eyes that make you melt,

He lends his coat for shelter,

Plus he’s there for you when he shouldn’t be,

Waits for you, then sees you through.

You smiled softly, hearing a guitar strum in your head, and suddenly your heart felt warmer than it originally had. The night really hits you, and next thing you know, you’ve got a demo at 2.56 AM.

You smiled wide now, your heart running rampant over a daydreamy thought you had of your neighbor. It’s not like you actually feel this way about him, but imagining yourself in something so plausible seems lighthearted and warm. Reaching for your phone, you bite your lip, wanting another opinion on the song, but not knowing if your relationship with Harry has evolved enough yet. It’s soon, but he still feels like your closest friend. You decide to go through with it anyway and text him.

ME: Haz! Want to hear something new I’ve just come up with over the course of seven straight hours?

It was actually very, very surprising when he responded a few minutes later.

HAZ: Yeah! FaceTime?

You smiled wide, feeling your heart skip a beat before agreeing. His phone call came in shortly after, and you were met with a very groggy Harry, his hair messy and in his face.

“Harry,” You looked at him suspiciously, “Why are you even up this late?”

He grew rather embarrassed, you could tell by the way he hid his face from the camera subtly, “Never bothered to change the ringtone you set.”

You could have died of embarrassment right then and there. The old ringtone you chose for your beloved boyfriend at the time, mind you, a very, very famous celebrity, was, in fact, a loud rooster. How much more embarrassing could you get? Laughing instead, you smiled wide. Things were going back to your normal, after all.

“Anyways, you let me know if this is good, okay? And be brutally honest.” Harry raised a brow in suspicion but quickly settled down as you began to play the guitar, strumming it gently.

“Daydreamer,” You began, and he felt his body go cold, in shock and in amazement. Hearing it semi-live, and completely personal was extremely different than the borderline music stalking of your singles he’d done recently.

“Sittin’ on the sea, soaking up the sun,” You changed the hit a higher note at, “He is a real lover, of making up the past and feelin’ up his girl like he’s never felt her figure before.”

You strummed gently for a few seconds, tying the calmness of the song together, “A jaw dropper, looks good when he walks, is the subject of their talk. He would be hard to chase, but to catch and he could change the world with his hands behind his back, oh.”

You strummed on some more, too nervous to look Harry in the eyes, despite him on the screen, and with a higher voice, began to sing more, “You can find him sittin’ on your doorstep, waiting for a surprise. And he will feel like he’s been there for hours, and you can tell that he’ll be there for life.”

This verse had been completely different, with you dragging on words and indulging in the beautiful memory, “Daydreamer, with eyes that make you melt, he lends his cost for shelter, Plus he’s there for you when he shouldn’t be, waits for you, then sees you through.”

Harry felt completely inferior in your presence, your voice sounding like he’d never heard it before. Instead of low and emotional, it was high and nostalgic, and for a moment, the thought that the song was about him struck him. Higher, you continued, “There’s no way I could describe him. What I’ve said is just what I’m hoping for, but I will find him, sittin’ on my doorstep waiting for a surprise. And he will feel like he’s been there for hours, and I can tell that he’ll be there for life.”

You slowed the guitar down, “And I can tell that he’ll be there for life.”

There was a moment of silence as you set the guitar off the bed, your face completely red after realizing the complete feeling of the song.

“(Y/N)…” Harry began, obviously now waking up completely, “That was amazing.”

“You mean it? It’s not too cheesy?”

He shook his head fast, “No. I don’t even know who it’s about, but you’ve got me falling in love with him, too.”

You smiled softly, happy to hear that he enjoyed it, “You sure? I don’t want it to sound creepy if I tell someone it’s for him. I just wanted to write something about someone who’s helped me so much.”

Continuing on, you fiddled with your sleeve, “Jack’s just so great.”

His heart dropped, and he furrowed his brows in jealousy, his stomach in knots as the idea of a love song for someone else hit him.

“He’ll love it,” He responded, not really thinking much as he did so, spaced out.

“Oh, just so you know, I’m going to France soon! Jack’s grandparents invited me, and I think it would be good to learn.”

Harry nodded, biting his lip as he snapped back into it, “You’re right. Be safe, okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me! I’ll be completely safe. It’s you I’m worried about, Haz. You’re quite the klutz.”

He chuckled, and from there, the conversation continued. It was like nothing had changed from your old years, and the night was talked away by two silly teenagers in love. When you woke up, a smile found itself on your face as you quickly noticed Harry’s sleeping face displayed on the camera. You’d fallen asleep before him, but he’d stayed.

His eyes were closed, revealing his long eyelashes. Were they always that curled? His lips parted for a moment and he heaved a great sigh, mumbling something before brushing hair out of his face. He was ethereal.

-

The trip came sooner than you’d noticed, and you didn’t want Daydreamer to be the last single released. It was so out of place from the rest of the album, but if you didn’t use it, then you wouldn’t have another single. There was one song you’d half-written, but it felt too personal, and besides, you’d already released a song about Harry. It felt like overkill. But it also just felt right, as a final goodbye to the situation.

Jack looked down at you as you sat with your guitar, “So, you want me to preview the song, yeah? Then we can go to France?”

He was teasing you, wanting to seem agitated, but you’d never heard him so much as raise his voice or seen him even furrow his eyebrows with a mean stare.

“Yes,” You chuckled, “I just don’t know if this song is too much. I had breakfast with Harry the other day and it came to my mind a week or so later.”

“Go on, then,” He sat down across from you, “I’m sure I’ll love it either way.”

But in his heart, he hated the fact that he was listening to a song you wrote about another man.

“Okay,” You took a deep breath, strumming.

“Walkin’ Scott Street feelin’ like a stranger, with an open heart, open container. I got a stack of mail and a tall can. It’s a shower beer, it’s a payment plan,” You recalled the first few weeks of moving out and how harsh it was. All you wanted was to be happy with him, but instead there were constant reminders that he was no longer there. Stacked up bills and inquiries about single-household payments, and the liquor which he hardly ever let you drink in fear you’d succumb to its temptation.

“There’s helicopters over my head every night when I go to bed. Spending money and I earned it, when I’m lonely, that’s when I’ll burn it,” You had complete control over yourself, sure, but at what cost? As you strummed, you felt tears pricking your eyes.

“Do you feel ashamed,” Singing clearly, it surprised Jack, who was already stunned silent, “When you hear my name?”

“I asked you, ‘How is your sister? I heard she got her degree.’” You detailed a conversation.

“And I said, ‘That makes me feel old.’

You said, ‘What does that make me?’

You asked me, ‘How is playing drums?

I said, ‘It's too much shit to carry. And what about the band?’

You said, ‘They’re all getting married.’”

You continued on, “Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?”

You began strumming a tune for a long time, tapping your foot to the sound of the beat. Maybe you went a little overboard, but it didn’t matter. You could tell Jack was glued to you.

“Anyway, don’t be a stranger,” More strumming, “Anyway, don’t be a stranger.”

And on a quieter note, you continued to the final line, “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, you know you’re talented, don’t you?” Was all your friend managed the day as you set the hollow instrument down, completely taken away.

“Aw, you’re just saying that.”

“I mean it!” He didn’t hesitate as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Thank you, Jack,” You smiled softly, “And you should be pleased to know that I’ve written something dedicated to you, too.”

His heart was almost definitely leaping, “You did? Can I hear it?”

“Mmm, maybe in France,” You teased.

-

You found France to be quite lovely, filled with beautifully blue clear water, and lovely locals that had a tendency to mistake you and Jack as a couple. Despite the mishaps, you’d gone to see various things. The art galleries, cafés, bars and lounges, they were all magical, and today you’d be seeing the ocean for the first time ever.

Harry was not so amused by the photos you’d sent him. He was glad you were having fun, yes, but he hated that it wasn’t with him. He was the one who promised you he’d take you to see the ocean, and he was the one who was supposed to take you to see it for the first time. Not some idiot with a PhD who didn’t know half of the things he knew about you. He was angry, not at you or Jack, but with himself. It hurt so much to see you with another, and you weren’t even his. How must you have felt during your relationship with him?

And now, he was drinking whiskey in his bedroom, strumming notes mindlessly. His phone rang once, but he didn’t really notice it, the volume being off. That was until he felt he was finished with his guitar and set it to the side of his bed, finding that he’d dropped his phone. The screen showed brightly that he had missed a call from you, and soon later, after he’d turned his sound on, the rooster notification sounded throughout the room. He chuckled and turned it down, already slightly tipsy before he began to play the voicemail on speaker.

It was you, practicing your French.

“Coucou! Tu dors ? Oh, j'suis désolée…(Hey! Are you asleep? Oh, I’m sorry…)” You sounded lovely in French, like the language was made for you.

“Bah (Well…),” You began but decided to take it back, “Non... Nan, c'est pas important… (No, it’s not important.)”

“Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on— (Yes, we went to the beach and now we—)” You were telling him about your day, just as you had been for the past few days as you kept in touch. He was smiling as he heard you, but then he picked up on a voice in the back, assuming it was your friend.

He heard something about the dinner, but then the words hit him. Mon cherie. My dear. My darling. My love. Had something already happened?

“Parfait ! (Perfect!)” You answered Jack, “Allez ! (Let’s go!)”

The voicemail ended abruptly, leaving him cold, staring at the wall in his bedroom, utterly dumbfounded. His strongest coping mechanism was always songwriting, and maybe that was a habit you’d picked up, but he sighed and pulled his laptop onto his lap.

Mon cherie. Cherry.

He’d use your voicemail in it, he was sure, and he chewed on his necklace as he looked down upon the lyrics later.

Don’t you call him baby.

[ford-tamblyn]

“ I honestly didn’t think it was gonna be an issue at first. I made it months without anyone recognizing me in town. It makes me think someone leaked I was home or something. If I had known this I would have went about it differently, cause trust me I’ve had some pretty scary run ins with people not being aware I’m a real person “ Ford replied shaking his head. He really never wanted to put wren in this position and it worried him that maybe the people in his life that weren’t part of this; his siblings and Iris, even Blake and his other friends from home would be hassled if Wren was already dealing with it. He could handle it but he didn’t want to force them to have to cope. “ I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up sooner “

He wasn’t sure where he tossed the crystal cause the very idea someone wanted to use magic to get him to fall in love with them made him think the rock was basically on fire. It did concern him though. “ that’s concerning “ he muttered before glancing back at her teasing and giving her one of his usual little side smiles. “ ouch “ he teased when it came to why a yoke would be in love with him

“ I owe a lot more than an apology. But I am still sorry “ he noted at not keeping wren up to speed on things. His expression dropped again at the knowledge she had looked him up. He was fine with being himself as long as people didn’t google him. Sure the start of who Ford was on Nepo Babies had a lot of truth to it. He was an angsty early twenty something whose parents just went to prison and he lost everything. There was a certain rebellious spirit he had carried with him into the show initially, but keeping up the momentum was where one lie became a whole life of them. “ I mean admittedly it did kind of start out as me, but my post parental drama angst kind of got too tiring to hold onto “ he’d grown a lot but if he was still asked about his parents, specifically his father ford was probably bound to get moody again. “ I grew up a lot though. You know how one lie sort of just grows? That was how the persona took hold. My siblings love to bring up that I’m boring in real life . It makes me feel great about myself “ ford laughed a bit but it was clear there was a lot of actual umbridge he took from being considered boring.

“ as much as I’d like to make a big deal out of it. I can’t start shit because I don’t want it to affect business negatively. I’m not real person famous, just niche famous “ ford noted. “ I have a place to run and I’d rather just deal with them head on. If it annoys you though you have my permission to do whatever you want. I’m not trying to alienate you and the others here either “ @thewrenxharlow

"I don't care about dealing with it Ford. I care that I didn't know why it was happening in the first place. Cause if I did, like I said, I would've been better prepared to deal with their psychotic bullshit." Wren pursed her lips as he chucked the little crystal away from him, making a little mental reminder to go find it and throw it out later. "And yeah. I guess at least one or two of these people are desperately in love with you. Can't imagine why." The last bit was said with sarcasm, rolling her eyes even as she gave him a little smile to show she was just kidding.

She listened to him speak then, explaining himself, and she let out a heavy sigh, shoulders dropping a bit. "And I get that. We all have shit in our pasts that we don't want defining who we are now but...still. A little heads up woulda been nice. Especially if prefaced with you telling me it was all fake." She gave him a pointed look as she said it. "Cause I gotta say, looking you up online? It's obvious that was a persona. Cause no way in hell that dude you were on camera is the same one in front of me now." She wouldn't be caught dead befriending the guy she'd read about. "So...how do you wanna go about it? Am I banning people from the store? Calling the cops? You wanna leave a stack of autographs laying around to just hand out to appease the masses?"

[laalaaliaa]

Hello! Can I pls request a titans! Dick x reader? They're in a romantic relationship btw

Idea/prompt: You have been dating dick for about 8 months and it has been amazing so far. But lately, you've been feeling more insecure about yourself and your relationship. You've always known about all of dicks past relationships but youve never thought anything of it. But lately, you've been thinking about it and you've come to the realization that all of his exes were much better than you.

Dick can't help but notice the way you've been distancing yourself and he feels as if he's done something wrong to make you upset. But after almost a week of this, he gets frustrated and decides to confront you. When you were both getting ready to go to sleep, he cornered you and asked you what was wrong and why you've been avoiding him.

At first, you try to ignore him and say that you need to get some rest, but you eventually give in and explain everything to him. He feels horrible, how hadn't he noticed before? He comforted you and cuddles your worries away.

Have a good day!

Leaden Insecurities

in which your insecurities start to show…

dick grayson x fem!reader

warnings: the tiniest bit of angst, but fluffy towards the end

proofread? nope

i’m such a bad liar! i said i’d be back, but once school started up again, i began to feel stressed, but i reallyyy do hope you enjoy, i also changed it up a bit, hope you don’t mind <33

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Galas are such a bore. Perhaps it was because you stuck out like a sore thumb. For the sake of your lover you attended, and possibly because of the appetizers Alfred always had laid out. You felt self-conscious, fear tantalizing you as you weaved your way through crowds of snobby rich people. You felt so warm, your skin hot to the touch, but only so much air could cool you down. As you waltzed your way towards one of the openings towards the garden, you stumbled at the feeling of someone bumping into your back.

The both of you muttered apologies, sympathetic smiles filled with faux intentions before you finally caught a glance of one another. Barbra Gordon. A red-headed beauty who you knew somewhat well. “I’m sorry Y/N.” She let out weakly, a genuine smile on her face as she held your forearm affectionately. You only shook your head, a slight relief from not possibly bumping into one of Gotham’s finest. “It’s fine Barbra, I’m actually happy to actually be in the vicinity of someone I know,” You joked lightly, causing her to laugh in agreement.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, a person, who you both knew in and out was staring at you two tensely. It wasn’t a secret that Barbra and Dick had been together. You actually befriended Dick whilst they were still in a relationship. Once they’re relationship went to shit, the two of you took the opportunity to possibly strike one up, and in both your favors, it worked. “Careful Grayson, Barbra might just turn her on you.” Dick heard Jason jab playfully. Dick might’ve laughed if the situation was different, but he didn’t. Instead he watched from afar as your entire conversation unfolded.

“So what’re you doing here?” Barbra questioned, her head tilting slightly as she stirred her champagne glass cooly. “I’m here with Dick actually.” You meekly replied, slyly glancing behind her to catch sight of him already looking at you. You turned your attention back to Barbra, watching the way her face conformed in realization. Suddenly the air became tense, as Barbra spoke, “Wow, I’m actually surprised you’re still together.” Your brows furrowed slightly at her shady comment, but you could only laugh awkwardly.

“What does that mean?” You pressed, your tone light, in hopes she wouldn’t detect the hostility her statement arose in you. She only shrugged, lifting the glass to her cherry covered lips as she took a long sip. Once she pulled the glass away, her reply shocked you. “Well it just seems like he has a type.” You scoffed lightly, an offended expression upon your face as you leaned back slightly. “What are you getting at?” She shrugged once more, her action irritating you before she spoke, “You’ll see the signs eventually,” And with that she left with a squeeze to your shoulder, which ultimately felt like her touch burned you.

He has a type? You couldn’t help but ponder on that question, the conversation you two shared stuck in your head on repeat. It’s been almost a week since the gala, and since then, you couldn’t help but shelter yourself. You built a brick wall, the fear of Barbra being right causing your heart to hurt a little. You knew Dick wasn’t clueless, he was a detective for crying out loud, but he was also your boyfriend, and with that title, came him knowing when something was wrong.

He knew something was wrong the minute you left Bruce’s home, the way you shifted your body towards the window in the car, the way you didn’t rest your hand atop his as he drove the two of you home, and the way you went to bed that night, without giving him a good night kiss. Your days blended together that way, a painfully cruel reminder that you were just a bland and simple girl. Basic. Dick Grayson could do better.

Damn you Barbra.

Night time became a comforting bliss, the darkness of the sky and the brightness of the moon was beautiful. Especially when you laid sprawled out on the couch, street light and moon light meshed together as it splayed across your skin through the sheer curtains. With a frazzled mind, you hoped a book could keep it occupied, yet your eyes kept skimming over the same sentence. The irony of the words making you want to laugh

quiet down i begged my mind

your overthinking is

robbing us of joy

Rupi Kaur was too relatable for your liking. With a quiet sigh you set down the book, lazily guiding your attention to a random talk show on the tv. You waited impatiently, waiting for the moment the squeaky door would creak open, forcing you to put that wall back up. You waited, and waited, until eventually you forgot about the existence of your beloved boyfriend. Too engrossed in a re-run of the bachelor, you failed to notice the door open.

It wasn’t until Dick leaned over the back of the couch, pressing a feathered kiss to your hair, causing you to tense. “How was your day?” He asked, making his way towards the kitchen and out of your sight. You gave him the same response you’d been giving him the last few days, “It’s been good babe.” He hummed at that, returning back to you with a water bottle in hand. “Are you sure?” You leaned into his side, giving him a nod of assurance. It was silent after that, and you couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip anxiously.

You glanced at him, his head tilted back as he let out a distressed sigh. You hated knowing that a few little words could cause a riff in your relationship, but you couldn’t help it. You knew Dick was the sweetest soul on earth, his kindness and compassion making him hard to resist, yet knowing that he chose you of all people made you question everything. “Y/N,” He started, leaning forward onto his knees. “Talk to me baby, I can’t stand..,” He waved his hands around with a pained expression, “This.”

You looked at him naively, head tilted as you grasped his hand. “Dick what are you talking about? I’m fine, see.” You gestured to yourself, a smile on your face as you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He was silent after that, mumbling a weak agreement as he sunk back into the couch, an arm wrapped atop your shoulder. You two spent a mere hour like that, before the darkness of the night made you woozy with sleep, prompting the two of you to turn in for the night.

You silently washed your face, the sound of the water in the shower distracting your racing thoughts. It was only when you heard it turn off that your thoughts seemed to race back into your head. Although you were silent, face void of any emotion as you applied lotion to your skin. Kori had lovely skin. You wanted to punch yourself, however with Dick half naked with a towel around his lower waist you could hopefully bury your mind with different thoughts. You left the bathroom, humid air and the smell of his coconut-hibiscus shampoo making your mind go under.

You settled into the bed first, silent as he slipped on a pair of boxers and his favorite pair of sleeping pants. Instead of getting in like he normally did, you were surprised that he only sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands as he let out a tired breath. “Y/N,” Your body seemed to go tense at the seriousness of his tone, making you pull he blanket up higher for him to get the idea of possibly going to sleep. “Yes babe.” He stood from the edge, making his way by your legs before sitting down, the sight of his chest glimmering slightly from the lotion you bought him making you want to curse yourself.

dirty minded bit-

“We need to talk.” He spoke solemnly, breaking you from your thoughts as your throat went dry. You knew it was coming eventually. Barbra was right, you were so-“I’m worried about you babe.” Wrong. You were so wrong? He seemed to notice you confusion, making him chuckle lightly, before he grew serious once more. “I’m just tired, like super tired, I woke up earlier than I normally do.” You reassured, even going as far as rubbing your eyes when you knew you were lying some what. “Did I do something?” He questioned weakly, making your slumped form perk up slightly. “No I—no baby, it’s not you. Well it is you, but,” You cut yourself off, laughing weakly as you head fell sourly.

“It’s silly.” “Clearly not if it’s making my girlfriend a completely different person. Talk to me baby.” You knew it was now or never, you’d either receive the answer you were looking for, or be dumped onto the streets just like Barbra had implied. “Why me?” The question was so short, sweet and simple, yet there was a multitude of answers you could’ve gotten, making your heart race slightly at his silence. “Why you.” He restated, making you nod weakly. “Baby, you have my heart, mind, and soul in the palm of your hand,” He started, his hand slipping into yours comfortingly. “And it hurts knowing that, you feel insecure in why I wanna be with you. Y/N, you’re amazing, you’re you, and I hate the fact that you don’t see yourself the way I do.”

You felt the sudden urge to bite your lip, a possible stream of tears soon to erupt, but you couldn’t. You stared at him with such a loving expression in your eyes, and he couldn’t help but fall for you more. “You’re no superhero, and I’m glad, they’re all copy and paste anyways, I mean look at ‘Gymnastics man’ I—ow babe I’m serious.” He finished, holding his shoulder with a genuine smile as he rubbed the spot you hit playfully. “His back handsprings are killer.” He joked, making you laugh for the first time in days. He smiled at that. “In all seriousness, I don’t care that you can’t fly, or shoot lasers—although that’d be pretty cool- right sorry, not the point,” He began once more, his hands held up in surrender at the sight of your glare.

“However, you’re Y/N, a pretty cool chick who’s not afraid of anything, except for maybe spiders, and haunted houses. Not the point again, but I love you for you, for all your faults and insecurities. I love you.” He finished, a smile gracing his face as silently watched your expression morph and soon the tears fled. “I hate you.” You cried weakly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He shushed you, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “If you hated me, then you wouldn’t have agreed to be my girlfriend 8 months ago.” He had you there. You only rolled your eyes with a sniffle, pulling back as you stared into his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, however if you ever doubt this,” He gestured between the two of you, “You talk to me baby.” You nodded at that, finally pulling his face closer as you gave him a well deserved kiss. The two of you pulled away, your foreheads resting on one another as you smiled at each other. “I love you Y/N L/N.”

“I love you too Dick Grayson.”

It was silent, until Dick had to ruin it

“Can we talk about Gymnastics man copying me?”

“No.”

——————

the end. I hope you enjoyed, and yes i’m terrified of haunted houses.

[findmeinasunshower]

𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔: 𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒙 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

word-count: 2k

summary: Sirius comes to spend Christmas with you and your family, but you notice the Holiday blues hanging over him.

warnings: discussion of abuse, crying, angst.

You’re sure that the Potter house has never been as quiet as it is now. The bitter winter wind howling outside serves as the only buffer to the silence permeating your home. Your wooden shutters slam against the side of the house for the millionth time that night and you sigh, rolling over yet again in a futile attempt to find sleep. Your mind has been restless since you got off the train at King’s Cross, and you know it won’t be still until you get him out of your head. 

At first, Sirius Black was just a story—letters from your brother about the first friend he’d made at Hogwarts and their mischievous adventures. Then, one friend became two, and two became three, but Sirius continued to stick out to you, the sentences written about him seeming to jump off of the page. 

You met him two years later. The Marauders were third-years when you arrived at Hogwarts for the first time, and it was nice having four older students at your back. Remus always has time to help you with your homework, and he made sure to teach you his favorite charms and hexes. Peter was always the first person to make you smile after a hard day and of course James is the best big brother you can ask for, even if he is an ass most of the time. 

But Sirius was always something...different. Something intangible separates him from his friends in a way you can’t quite put your finger on.

In your second year, a group of fifth-year Hufflepuffs decided it was a good idea to pick on you, as James had lost his latest match to their team. Sirius got detention for punching one of them in the jaw, then proceeding to take on all three by himself.

You vividly remember leading Sirius to the hospital wing. How he rolled his eyes as you apologized to him the whole way for his various injuries until he looked down at you with a smile that split his lip and promised:  “C’mon, (y/n). I’d never let anything happen to you.”

You had done everything in your twelve-year-old power not to swoon.

But, despite the amount of times you’ve seen Sirius hurt or angry . . . you had never seen him like this. 

You were the one who opened the door for Sirius when he arrived on your front door at about midsummer with only a suitcase, his Quidditch duffel, and a small backpack. James had had quite a few hushed conversations with your parents in the weeks before, so you were expecting him to come, even if you didn’t know what exactly was going on. But, it didn’t take you long to understand that whatever was happening wasn’t good.

Sirius barely ate that first month, and his usual wide grins retreated into forced, thin-lipped smiles. There was no laughing. He pretended to be okay and was mostly successful when it came to your parents, but you saw right through him. All you had to do was look at his eyes to see exactly what he was feeling, how much he was trying to hide. 

You went back to Hogwarts for your fourth year, him and James for their sixth, and suddenly, Sirius returned to his old self. You’d find yourself looking up in surprise when his loud laughter rang through the great hall, and then suddenly, you’d be the one laughing as he stuffed himself with food for your amusement. You couldn’t work up the courage to ask what was bothering him, not when the real Sirius had returned. If anything, he seemed more recklessly happy than he was before. 

But, then he came home with you and James for Christmas, and the long-lost look in his eyes gradually returned. His genuine laughs and crooked grins remained, but something about them was false. There was a battle raging inside of him, a battle only you seemed to be privy to. 

You groan at the thought and sit up in bed, hating how the blankets tangle around your sweaty legs from all of your tossing and turning and the heat spell your mother had conjured over the house. You just want your racing thoughts to stop. You drop your head and dig the heels of your hands into your eyes in a vain attempt to press away the oncoming headache. 

You startle with a gasp when the floorboards outside your room creak. The normally unnoticeable sound cuts through the quiet that had previously hovered around you like a knife. It can’t be James, considering he’s snuck outside to play Quidditch more times than you can count—he knows every creaky floorboard in the house. Plus, your parents’ bedroom is downstairs, so it’s very unlikely it’s either of them.

So, what the hell is Sirius doing up in the middle of the night?

Frowning, you push your comforter back and swing your legs over the side of the bed, welcoming the cold air that soothes your warm skin. You hiss softly when your feet make contact with the cold wooden floor, and you’re quick to slip on your nightrobe and slippers. Lastly, you grab your wand hastily off of your dresser and stuff it in your robe pocket. Just in case. 

Your mother had told you she put a spell on your door to stop the horrible creaking that used to plague you, so you’re pleased when the door swings open soundlessly. You slip down the hallway as silently as you can, not daring to even mutter Lumos for fear of being caught. You reach the stairs without a hitch and step down onto the second stair, avoiding the creaky first one altogether, and you’re about to start a quick journey down when you hear a sniffle behind you.

Your robe brushes against your calves as you swivel around in surprise. How could you have missed that? Swallowing nervously, you pad carefully back down the hall until you’re standing in front of the bathroom. Now that you’re closer to the door, the heartbreaking sound of what you deduce to be Sirius crying is much more prominent, but still quiet enough for no one to hear. You bite your lip nervously and knock gently.

The crying comes to an abrupt stop, as if your knocking was a button to cut it off. You shift your feet as nerves start to bubble up in your stomach. “Can I come in?” you whisper.

Another long silence passes until you hear the doorknob rattle as it’s unlocked. You push the door open slowly to give Sirius time to stop you, and then you’re looking at him sitting on the seat of the toilet. 

Your heart sinks at what you see. He’s a complete mess, hair more disheveled than usual and hanging in front of his dark eyes, which are red from crying. He’s tapping his foot anxiously on the floor and has his hands laced together in front of him in an effort to hide his shaking. 

“Padfoot . . .” you whisper and flit into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. Sirius doesn’t look up as you perch on the edge of the bathtub in front of him. You take his trembling hands in yours. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s none of your business, little Potter,” he mumbles, but the way his large hands are clutched around yours like a lifeline betray his stubbornness.

You can’t help but scoff. “None of my business? You’re just as much my friend as you are James’s.”

“Fine, then it’s none of your concern.”

“Of course it’s my concern,” you hiss through gritted teeth, and your harsh tone finally gets Sirius to look up at you in surprise. You feel your neck flush slightly red at having his full attention on you when he’s so close. “I’ve been worried about you, Sirius,” you admit quietly.

“Worried about me?” Sirius sits back and wipes his nose before shooting you a cocky smile in an attempt to distract you from the situation. “It’s my job to worry about you.”

"I’m not a child, Sirius.”

“Of course you’re not,” Sirius agrees, dropping his smirk for a genuine look that lets you know he’s not being sarcastic. “I’ve never seen you as a child, not even when you were a wee first year.”

You snort at his antics and immediately cover your mouth, eyes wide as you listen for any sort of disturbance. James’ room is right next door. When all seems to be quiet, you look back at Sirius, who is grinning in delight at your expression. You giggle softly from behind your hand, and he’s quick to join you, which leads to the both of you taking turns shushing the other, only leading to more badly-hidden laughter.

Once both of you calm down and determine that no one has heard you, you sit back and let your hands fall to your lap, fixing him with an earnest gaze. “Honestly though, Sirius. Please tell me what’s wrong so I can get some sleep.”

“You haven’t been sleeping?”

“No, and it’s all your fault,” you accuse, playfully poking a finger into his chest. The corner of his mouth quirks up but promptly falls back down as he turns his gaze to the tile. He takes his time to respond, and you can practically see him turning his thoughts over in his head.

Finally, he says: “My folks kicked me out.” Your heart stops. 

“What?” Sirius nods solemnly. 

“That’s why I came to stay with you lot so suddenly over Summer. I’m . . . indebted to your parents. And James, but don’t tell him I said that.” He sighs and runs a hand through his scraggly hair. “My mum and dad say I’m a blood traitor.”

“What the bloody hell does that mean?” you ask.

He shrugs. “It means I’m not a Black anymore.”

At that moment, the stone statue that was your body shatters into a million pieces, and you stand up, waving your arms in anger. “What kind of mother would disown her own child? Why if I saw her, I would hex the–”

“Whoah whoah whoah, calm down, Lancelot.” Sirius takes your upper arms and gently spins you around to face him. “It’s alright. Truly. I’m better off without them anyway, because I got out of that hellhole and I get to be with you guys.”

You frown in confusion. “Then why were you crying?”

He purses his lips and shrugs, letting his hands drop back to his sides. You immediately miss their warm weight. “It’s nearly the new year, and Christmas is almost over. It’s strange to spend this time of year knowing that your own family doesn’t accept you anymore. I guess the reality of it just finally clicked.”

You nod along with his words. “I understand.” You step forward and raise your hand up to run your fingers through his tangled black hair, brushing it back and away from his face. “No more tears, though. They don’t deserve it, and neither do you.”

You pull your hand back but Sirius catches it before it can fall back to your side. His fingers cradle yours with impossible softness and his lips feel like fire when he kisses the back of your hand. “Thank you, (y/n).” You shudder at his husky voice, and he drops your hand.

You bring it to clutch at your chest and look away from him shyly. “Well, we should probably get some sleep so we can deal with James without killing him tomorrow.”

Sirius chuckles. “You do need quite a bit of energy to do so.”

You look up at him through your lashes and smile bashfully before stepping around him so you’re at the door. Just before opening it, you pause and look back over your shoulder at him. “Good night, Sirius,” you whisper.

His eyes shine with what you can only describe as pure warmth, and his lips curve up into a smile. “Good night, (y/n).”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it.  you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

                                    You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.  

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though.  After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all?  Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared).  He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did.  Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered.  The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed.  You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder.  You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him.  You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him.  Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around.  You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention.  If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers.  With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk.  Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter.  “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded.  By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous.  Idiotic.  A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you.  “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged.  “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing?  “Thank you.  I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.  

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense.  But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?”  His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious.  “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him.  He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression.  His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.  

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore.  “I’m here, aren’t I?  Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that?  I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me.  It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm.  “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium.  Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.  

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.  

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course.  And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.  “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar.  “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time.  You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there.  Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.  

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.  

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen.  And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds.  You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit.  All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.  

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything.  The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.  

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex.  As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd.  Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway.  It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.  

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted.  “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.  

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were.  But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck.  “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear.  “Can you do that for me?  Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped.  “I can take it!  Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head.  “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on?  Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers.  You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you.  Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.  

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly.  You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point.  "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly.  He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.  

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air.  He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive.  The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed.  He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss.  Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him.  Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing.  His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately.  "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.”  It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.  But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear.  You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly.  "Oh, you like that idea, hm?  You want to be full of my come?  Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast.  You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated.  As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade.  Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks.  No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair.  It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks.  If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.  

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry.  I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed.  He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye.  “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.  

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss.  And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again.  He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss.  Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss?  But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class?  Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it?  And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios.  You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him.  And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now.  The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class.  As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options.  There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself.  Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable.  Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned.  "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk.  Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.  He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was.  “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed.  “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice.  You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly.  “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed.  “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly.  "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours.  And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel.  “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed.  "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again.  "A man can only take so much.  I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked.  "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist.  Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod.  It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag.  “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened.  Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded.  “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.”  He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips.  “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs.  “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair.  He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit.  Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up.  He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way.  I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed.  "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear.  "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.  

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me.  Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

[formidxble]

𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: fixing ties is a part of your job, so why is your boss acting like it isn’t?

𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 “𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆” 𝒃𝒚 2𝑷𝑴 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bang chan x fem!reader 

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 13k 

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, fluff, slight angst, and established relationship || ceo!bang chan x secretary!reader

𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: romantic sex, dirty talk, (some) possessiveness, marking, oral (female receiving), praising, “sir” kink (? 👀), (some) begging, unprotected sex (remember to always stay safe!!!), creampie

a/n: this is a gift to all you who submitted ceo bang chan asks and to everyone who followed me! thank you so much for 500 followers. i’m a bit late, but thank you! <3 thank you all so much!

little update (061921): three steps back has been posted!! this is a prequel to this fic, but you don’t have to read it in order to understand this one!! 

three steps backˏˋ°•*⁀➷masterlist 

taglist: @meow-minho @bxngchxn @dreamwrld​ @my-blueprint-haven @bobateastay @hyunsluvv @etherealeeknow @solistired @popisdead @arohabangtan @imagineinnie @happy-at-home @anna1126 @lattechans @yjunrecords @http-hyxnjxn @minaamhh @violethhj @changlix-mp4 @instachans @qtieskz @itsapapisongo @jisungcherry @healinghyunjin @asweeetdisposition @poutypoutybin @vogueinnie @fizzydrink698 @minniehohos

huge shoutout to @/popisdead for giving me an idea to put in the smut! you know what it is when you read it, l! 😌❤️

please don’t interact with this post if you are under the age of 18!

here we go again.

being the bang chan’s secretary meant that you had to accompany him to every event that required a plus one— public events, soirees, sales pitches, all the like. for the longest time, people have linked you to him and that wherever he went, you were expected to be there. it was almost like clockwork and here you were, beside him again, as he talked to mister seo changbin, the company’s vice chairman and chan’s right hand man. you relax your shoulders slightly.

don’t get it wrong, you loved being with chan and getting to see all the wonderful event venues around the country. people in chan’s level and caliber always threw the grandest of parties and though it was tiring just following your boss around, it was still better than staying at home and fixing chan’s schedule for the week. you also get to meet other high profile names in the industry and the company’s investors, most of which are also in the party tonight.

the party was thrown by the company to celebrate another successful sale made by none other than bang christopher chan. everyone who’s here is here to celebrate chan’s leadership and his success as the company’s youngest CEO. and, not to mention, as changbin lovingly put it just now, “his cockiness”. you giggle beside chan, smiling sheepishly when he gives you a playful glare.

when chang— mr. seo excuses himself to go grab another drink from one of the waiters roaming the hall, chan turns to you with a soft smile, his eyes content. “enjoying?” he asks as he gently swirls the wine glass in his hand.

“trying to,” you tease. you stand up straighter beside him, aware that people have eyes on you. it was one of the complaints you had about being next to chan. he was the center of attention everywhere and because you were beside him always, people tended to stare after they give chan a bow or even if they were gazing from afar. you always had to look presentable and though it came with the job, it gets tiring after a while. chan raises an eyebrow.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you smile. “just a little uncomfortable. that’s all.”

chan hums as he blinks. he surveys the hall before nodding. “if you want, you can go talk to some of the people here.”

chan barely allowed you to leave his side during public events. since you became a staple of his public appearances, seeing him alone always rose some eyebrows. so, why was tonight any different? you scrunch your eyebrows, swallowing as you tilt your head. the side of chan’s lip quirks up as his eyebrows mimic yours. it takes a second for chan to realize why.

“don’t worry about me,” chan laughs. “it’s a company event, so, i guess i can let you go for a bit.”

you look around the hall, frowning to yourself when you don’t spot any familiar faces. how were you supposed to interact with the businessmen in this party and wouldn’t it be weird if you just slid in the conversation? chan senses your hesitation, sucking his lips in as he gazes at the area.

“there’s, um,” chan moves in closer, tilting his glass toward the direction of a small group, “hwang hyunjin. do you remember him?”

of course, you do. chan sent you to the man’s office to confirm a sale a few months ago. you tripped in front of his desk and he only stared at you when you dusted yourself off. it wasn’t the most embarrassing moment in your life, but it was up there on the list. you huff softly.

chan hums once more as he glances at you. “you can talk to him or“—he tilts his glass to another group— “to the people in the office.” he takes a quick sip of his wine before grinning. “get the latest office gossip, like who’s dating who, you know? just all that fun stuff that i don’t get to know.”

office gossip? chan’s asking for juicy office gossip? you can’t blame him. out of all the people in the office, chan’s not the go-to person to talk about office drama. part of you feels bad, but then again, why would he care about one of the interns getting dumped if he’s too busy making sure the company doesn’t go under?

you fight the urge to giggle as you nod. chan catches the smile on your lips and he shakes his head, a soft ‘tsk’ leaving his lips.

“go on,” chan shoos playfully. “go socialize.” you give him a quick bow and before you could say anything else, mr. seo comes back, a full wine glass in his hand once more.

you step aside to look at the two groups chan pointed out. you could play it safe and go to the group you see around the office or you could shoot yourself in the foot and go to the group of millionaires.

you look behind as you feel chan’s eyes on you. once your eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his wine. maybe you could impress him by going to the other group. the thought makes you turn away from him, feet moving in the direction of hwang hyunjin’s group.

you realize that this was a bad idea the moment the blonde-haired man spots you walking towards them. he raises his glass to greet you, head tilted to the side in curiosity and amusement. when you get nearer, the chatter in the group dies down and your mouth grows dry. their stare burns your skin and you can’t help but feel out of place.

“miss y/l/n,” hyunjin calls out, opening his arm out to invite you in the circle. “what brings you to our humble group?”

humble is not a word in this group’s vocabulary, that’s for sure. you smile at them as you inhale through your nose. this is a chance to mingle with the country’s richest and though you were nervous, it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression, right? transactions in the future should be easier if you play your cards right. so, you part your lips and hum, “mr. bang wanted to get insider information and sent me over.”

the group laughs, almost rhythmically, like it’s been practiced before. nevertheless, the air grows lighter and beside you, hyunjin cracks a smile.

“that bastard. always one step ahead of us,” one of the men laughs. the other men join in and the conversation picks up where it left off— something about the trends in the market. not the most interesting of conversations, but you were already here.  hyunjin keeps his eyes on you and he leans over to your side.

“thank goodness you didn’t trip this time around.” your cheeks flush red and you laugh the statement off as you shake your head. “i thought i’d have to relive it all over again.”

“it must have been a nightmare, mr. hwang,” you play along softly. hyunjin hums.

“a nightmare for you, a comedy for me.”

if this was bang chan, you would have shamelessly smacked him. the thought makes you realize how easy-going everything is when it came to your work relationship with chan. after all, the two of you have been working together for almost a decade. during that time, you’ve gotten to know chan in ways his right-hand man hasn’t and he’s gotten to know you in ways previous employers haven’t. the line between work and friendship has been blurred for a long time now, but none of you have complained.

“i’m happy my pain provided entertainment, mr. hwang,” you tease. hyunjin chuckles before finishing his glass of wine. behind you, you feel a set of eyes travel down your back. you ignore the feeling.  

despite your lingering thoughts of chan, you couldn’t help but admire the man beside you. just like your boss, hwang hyunjin is one of the younger CEOs in the industry. he was younger than chan, but definitely carried himself in a manner that exuded superiority and grace, like he was on par with the men he’s standing with.

it seems to be the case because one of the businessmen in the group calls his attention, bringing him back to the conversation he was part of earlier. you frown when you see how loose his tie is around his neck.

someone’s secretary isn’t good with ties.

“not a good look,” you remember chan saying. like second nature, you reach over to grab hyunjin’s shoulder, gently turning him to face you. your hands find their way to the man’s tie, sliding the knot up to tighten it. when you look up, hyunjin’s eyes are on you and so are the eyes of the men around you.

the group grows silent and both of your breaths hitch. you’re frozen in your spot, blinking as you see hyunjin’s cheeks turn bright red. his eyes scan your face, panicked and confused. your hands on his tie start to shake and as you’re about to apologize, you feel a hand land on your lower back.

“i’m afraid i’d have to steal her for a bit, hyunjin,” you hear behind you. you bite your lower lip as you lean away from hyunjin, settling into the familiar hand. it takes a second for the blonde-haired man to recover, but he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as he forces a smile.

“go ahead,” hyunjin chuckles shakily. “i’m not about to steal your secretary from you.”

“i’d like to see you try,” chan laughs and as if on cue, the others laugh with him. you give hyunjin an apologetic look when your eyes meet and he responds with a quick bow of his head like it was his fault. you put on your best fake laugh, your heart beating in your ears.

once the men stop laughing, the jokes thrown out earlier dissipate into thin air. and as much as you’d like to believe that these men were all friends, you were knowledgeable enough about the industry to say that this was all for show— the bows, the greetings, the jokes, the laughs, them coming to the party to “celebrate” chan’s success, all of it.

hyunjin’s the first to speak again, moving away from you and chan to close the circle and get away from the awkwardness that has formed between the three of you.

you feel chan remove his hand from your lower back and he uses it to grab your hand. “let’s dance.” chan whispers in your ear. you wet your lip as he leads you to the dance floor and the crowd parts to make way for the man of the hour and his plus one.

chan has always made you feel like you were the only woman in the room and he does it again tonight when he circles around you, his hand not letting go and his eyes never leaving yours. chan grins as he closes the gap between you and you hear your own breath stop. your eyes trail down to his lips when he wraps an arm around your waist.

your heartbeat rings in your ear once more when you and chan start swaying in time with the music. “i thought you didn’t want to dance tonight,” you whisper.

“it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun, you know.”

you rest your forehead on his shoulder as you scoff internally. bang chan, the man whose head is always filled with work, even during events like this, now wants to have fun and dance with his secretary?

you could laugh, but instead you let him lead you on the dance floor. you and he have never done this and you wonder if he feels as nervous as you are. but knowing him, he would never show it, at least not right now.

as the both of you settle in the feeling of each other’s warmth, he mumbles, “you feel it too?”

you shiver as you lean back from his shoulder. you wanted to ask what he meant. was he referring to the way your heart skips a beat when you catch him staring from his office window or when he throws you a soft smile when he walks by your desk? or was he talking about the way his hand lingers for way too long when you give him his coffee or the way his hand subtly reaches out for yours when it’s close to his?

you weren’t stupid. of course, you’ve felt it. everyone in the office has, except for bang chan himself.

maybe it’s not insanity after all. your colleagues aren’t talking out of their asses and there’s a chance, no matter how small it is, that bang chan felt it too. whatever it may be.

chan clicks his tongue when you don’t answer, his eyes scanning your face as you struggle to come up with a coherent thought. he breaks the eye contact before looking around the hall. “everyone’s watching.”

you feel a quick pang of pain in your chest. bang chan, the youngest CEO of his family’s company and the smartest out of all the men in here, is the most oblivious man you’ve ever come across. heat creeps up onto your cheeks and you mentally smack yourself in the head. you were crazy for even hoping that you were both on the same wavelength. it’s just not possible, no matter how much you romanticize the whole situation. you swallow as you nod, hanging your head gently as the both of you continue to sway.

“don’t be shy,” chan chuckles softly. “you’re doing great.”

“yeah, right,” you mumble, playing off the embarrassment and the pain bubbling in your chest. you see a flash of worry pass chan’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.

the dance floor slowly fills up with the other couples in the hall, taking the prying eyes off of the two of you. for now. you let out a shaky exhale as chan’s hand squeezes yours.

“you also did great with hyunjin’s tie.”

you raise your eyebrows in surprise, letting out a soft, but nervous giggle. “i have enough experience with yours, sir.” chan snorts before rolling his eyes playfully. he spins the both of you around, wading through the other couples as smoothly as he could manage.

“my ties are of better quality, miss y/l/n. you, of all people, would know.” chan chuckles before his eyes leave yours. he pulls you in closer to him, inhaling softly when you collide with him. what that was for, you don’t know, but you’re close enough to feel his breath on your skin. there must be something in the air.

or maybe he’s just drunk. who knows, really?

“right,” you tease after a few beats of silence, “your ties are imported and his are...?”

“probably imported too,” chan shrugs. “he has the money.”

you scrunch your nose, pulling back from his embrace. “you have to make up your mind. you either talk about him behind his back or you compliment him.” chan tilts his head as he shrugs again, eyes filled with amusement. “you can’t do both.”

“i can do both,” chan mumbles. “i just did it, yes?”

you feel a set of eyes on the both of you, but this time you couldn’t care less. chan, with his charm, wit, and annoying smile, has managed to calm your nerves yet again. it makes you wonder if there was ever a line between friendship and work with the two of you.

you’re taken back to reality as you and chan sway in a comfortable silence, letting the orchestra take you to a world only the two of you knew. you sigh as you turn your head and rest your cheek on his shoulder. you inhale the scent of his cologne, the one you’ve come to know and love after all these years.

“hey,” you hear chan say after a while. you raise your head to meet his eyes before raising an eyebrow. “don’t fix anyone else’s ties when we’re together, okay?”

“are you jealous?” you taunt as you try not to focus on the fact that bang chan’s lips are right there, plump, red, and lonely. chan scoffs, his arm around your waist tightening.

“should i be?”

you laugh, throwing your head back dramatically as chan twirls the both of you around. when he stops, your eyes meet again and he gives you another grin. “you sound like you are.” his grin disappears as quickly as it formed, turning into a small, playful snarl.

“do i? that’s interesting,” chan teases, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “i just,” he breathes, “don’t appreciate you going around the place fixing every man’s tie in here.”

you giggle, lightly smacking chan’s shoulder. “i fixed one, chan,” you snicker. “i fixed one tie. one!”

“that’s one too many ties, sweetheart.” the nickname travels throughout your body. it’s something he’s never called you before. you blush once more, turning your head away from him as you pretend to look at the other couples dancing. chan hums in front of you, unwrapping his arm around you to instead plant his hand on your waist.

“i was just doing my job,” you mutter. chan licks his bottom lip before he responds. your breath stops when you catch him taking in your facial features, but within a second, his eyes travel back to yours.

“i don’t think ‘fixing hwang hyunjin’s tie’ was part of the contract you signed years ago.”

“but fixing your tie is?” you retort.

chan grins at how fast you respond, shrugging playfully before twirling you around. the couples beside you gasp and giggle, your cheeks heating up at the sudden motion and attention. when you return to chan, he’s chuckling as he wraps his arm around your waist again, pulling you into his torso once more.

“you signed up for that the moment you were hired,” chan mutters, lips painfully close to yours. you swallow as your body starts to grow hot from the lack of space between the two of you.

for a moment, the people around you disappear and you could only focus on the way chan’s breath comes in contact with your skin. when he notices your eyes on his lips, he grins as he continues. “that means you’re only fixing my tie.”

you bite your lip when he leans in to whisper, his arm lowering to a place that you weren’t used to, “and the last time i checked, we’re still in a party thrown for me. in my company. in my house.”

your eyes widen when he pulls away, putting a small space in between the two of you. his arm loosens around you and you can’t help but long for its warmth again. your cheeks are flushed red when you part your lips to say, “chan, i—“

“don’t apologize,” chan interrupts, tilting his head as his arm comes back up to its previous position. it’s as if the words that left his mouth earlier were nothing important, like it wouldn’t keep you up at night. “just do better next time.”

you were used to hearing those words from chan, being his secretary. you had to admit that you  weren’t the best one for the job, almost always messing up the man’s schedule or just being plain absentminded while you’re sat on your office chair. you’ve lost track of how much you’ve put chan through, but it was always the same seven words he utters when he helps you clean up the mistakes. it’s a miracle you’re still his secretary, almost a decade after.

“as always,” you stutter softly, your breath betraying you when it hitches.

you see the couples on the dance floor dispersing and before you could move away from chan, he pulls you back into his chest to whisper, “let’s get out of here.” you raise an eyebrow.

“this early?” chan nods in response.

“in 10 minutes,” he turns the both of you to the direction of the back door, “i’ll be waiting for you over there.”

you blink at him as his words replay over and over in your mind. bang chan was the type to finish parties to the point that sometimes, you and he were the last people to leave the venue. but now, he wants to leave the party that was thrown specifically to celebrate him?  

“this is new,” you choke out. chan chuckles as he steps away from you, hand still not letting go of yours. he brings the back of your hand to his lips and gives it a soft peck. his lips linger on your skin and when his eyes come up to meet yours, he smirks.

“10 minutes.”

when you look at the obnoxiously large clock on the stage at the end of the room, you realize that the minutes have flown by before you even started counting them.

meeting chan’s eyes from across the room, you knew that it was time to leave. he puts his wine glass on the table beside him, giving one of the businessmen a pat on the back as he excuses himself. when he disappears into the crowd, you clasp your hands together as you wonder what he had planned for the remainder of the night.

your eyes fall on chan when you arrive. he’s resting his back on the wall behind him and his shoulders are slumped, a stark contrast from the way he looked inside earlier. his hands are inside his pockets and the top two buttons of his black formal polo are now unbuttoned. he’s looking at the floor as he waits, his foot tapping to the rhythm of the song being performed in the other room. the echo of your heels in the empty room grabs chan’s attention and he raises his head to meet your eyes, a smile on his lips. 

“ready to go?” he asks.

“to where, exactly?” you hum, grabbing your phone from your dress pocket to give chan’s driver a quick text.

like the way your breath hitches, your movements halt when chan opens the back door for you. shouldn’t you be the one to open it for him and not the other way around? you motion forward with your hand and chan shakes his head.

“ladies first.”

“listen, i don’t know what you’re doing,” you start, “but i know you’re expecting something in return after this.” chan lets out an exhale through his nose as he smiles. “so, i think you should step out first.”

“maybe, i just want to do something for you this time,” chan shrugs. “have you ever thought of that?”

chan watches the way your cheeks heat up and before any of you could say anything else, you hear a honk outside. he’s the first to break the eye-contact, looking behind to wave at his driver. he turns his attention back to you with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“like i said, ladies first.”

you narrow your eyes toward him, but you step out nonetheless. behind you, you hear the door close and chan’s walking toward the car before you could blink. you follow after him, your heels clacking on the concrete. you overtake him as you near the car, your hand gripping the handle to open the door for him. his hand makes contact with yours, enveloping it as he does the same.

your eyes meet and it might have been because of the cold night air, but you see the color of bang chan’s cheeks turn into a light shade of red. you try to stop yourself from shivering when he grips your hand tighter to open the car door. your eyes don’t leave him as it opens and he motions for you to enter first.

you hesitate. wasn’t this your job?  

“y/n,” you hear him call, “i insist.”

you sigh, but don’t say anything else when you slip your hand out of his grip, ducking as you get inside the backseat. chan follows soon after, closing the car door and greeting his driver as he relaxes his back on the seat behind him.

chan’s driver turns to him as he asks, “where to, sir?”

he answers, “take us home, please.”

and with that, chan presses the button to slide the partition close.

the words that left his mouth almost give you whiplash. it was such a simple sentence, but somehow, your brain couldn’t comprehend it. you open your mouth as you turn to give chan a look. he reciprocates as he cocks his head to the side, chest glistening underneath the streetlights. 

“i apologize if that was a bit forward, but is it okay if i bring you to my place?” your boss hums, putting his arm on the curve of the backseat. “i figured we could work there instead of the office.”

you let his words settle into you the same way you lean back on the seat. your mind travels back to the calendar you prepared and submitted to him last sunday—a couple of meetings on monday and tuesday, a press conference on wednesday, and a celebratory party on thursday. and since everyone’s too hungover to function the next day, friday’s scheduled to be a lighter one, as requested by chan himself. you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at the ceiling to wonder, did you somehow forget the details you put on the schedule?

and not just details, but work? didn’t you and chan rush two days worth of tasks the previous nights so that the both of you can, as you quote him, “enjoy the party”? but, here you were, on the way to his house to work. again.

chan catches the look in your eyes. “it’s nothing heavy. i just need your help.”

“and why wasn’t this plotted in your official schedule?” you question, letting your eyes drift to his, an eyebrow raised.

chan’s eyes widen and he brings his forearm up to scratch the side of his head. “it’s...it’s really not that important to warrant a spot in my calendar.”

“but, important enough for you to ask for my help?”

the color on chan’s cheeks disappear and his smile drops the way his arm does to his side.  he scoffs softly. “if it’s work related, of course.” he shakes his head. “you’re my secretary. a part of your job is to heed every call.”

“is this what i have to do since you opened the door for me earlier?”

“‘this’ being?”

“staying up all night with you again. working.”

chan rests his elbow on the window beside him. “that’s never been a problem for you, y/n,” he pauses. “why is it a problem now?”

you weren’t one to complain, but was it such a bad thing to long for a break? sure, the party takes place inside the company’s hall, but you didn’t have to be hunched over a desk, reading through paperwork to summarize and report or make him coffee to keep him awake. you weren’t required to do things for him—to work— because the both of you were there to have fun, mingle, and socialize with all of the other hot shots in the industry.

you were hoping, even just for one night, that you’d escape work responsibilities, that chan would have something fun planned for tonight.

but, maybe you expected for too much from bang christopher chan.

his dry laugh interrupts your thoughts. “unless you’d rather be with hwang hyunjin on that dance floor?”

“hwang hyun— are you kidding me?” you exclaim, eyes wide, as you turn to him. “you’re picking a fight because of hwang hyunjin? i can’t believe this.”

you huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest, looking away from chan to gaze out the window. the previous topic of the calendar is thrown out and it joins the blur of the buildings moving past the car. never in your life have you despised a three-letter word until now, when memories of tonight are slowly overpowered by the word tie. 

you hear chan take a deep breath and you couldn’t help but wonder if the man is actually jealous. if so, you’d prefer he tell you, rather than going back and forth. but then again, you were perfectly fine sitting like this with him—silent and unmoving. it stays like this for a few good minutes, until, in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s knee start bouncing. if it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t—

“i don’t see the big deal,” you sigh exasperatedly. “it’s just a damn tie.” before your hands even fall to your lap, chan’s eyes are on you like they never left.

he turns his body to you, motioning with his hands as he frowns. “it’s not just a tie to me. do you know how close th—“

“so, you are jealous?” you ask, putting a hand on your forehead as your skin heats up. “you’re jealous because i fixed another man’s tie?”

he furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head, as he grips the curve of the backseat. “i—“

“chan, you’re not even wearing a tie tonight! what am i supposed to fix—oh my god!“

the air in the car grows heavy as you try and catch your breath. chan slowly lowers his head to gaze upon his exposed chest. the tips of his ears turn red and it quickly travels down to his cheeks and neck. he swallows as he rubs his nape, a sheepish grin replacing the frown he had on earlier.

it was moments like this that make you wonder if chan’s really the smartest man you know.

“i guess you’re right,” chan whispers. “i’m sorry.”

“you should be,” you say in disbelief. “god, chan, it’s not like i wanted to do it!” he raises his eyebrows, letting out a soft hum, as he nods at your words. you crinkle your nose as you continue. “it was an honest mistake that i”— you point to yourself—“wholeheartedly regret doing and before yo—“

“i just don’t like other men looking at you the same way i do,” chan cuts you off, volume higher than usual. “okay? that’s it.” your boss slices the air to, quite literally, cut the tension. “end of argument.”

absolutely not. not after what he just said.

chan shrugs as he turns away from you to rest his elbow on the window once more. your heart pounds in your chest as his words float around in your mind, attacking every single thought that had made its presence known. your mind becomes an empty void and when you come to your senses—one of them—your skin forms goosebumps.

and it’s not because of the ac in the car.

“help me understand what’s happening right now, chan.”

“y/n,” chan groans softly. “if only you saw the way hyunjin looked at you. his eye—“

“i tripped in front of him!”

“and that’s the charm of it all,” chan states as he turns to look at you. your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. you blink at him and he sighs.

“you’re different from all of the other women in there. you’re a breath of fresh air.”

your shoulders relax, but your hands begin to sweat. your anger and frustration have now been replaced by confusion and the butterflies in your stomach, which have been reserved for the man in front of you, start flapping their wings as your cheeks heat up. you’re about to ask what he meant, but chan parts his lips and it shuts you up quickly.

“it’s hard to let our guards down. the industry’s full of competition, full of rivalry, so you have to have thick skin,” chan pauses to shrug. “the businessmen in that party don’t care about my success, nor do the media. they only care about what’s next for us, what’s next for the company, all that good stuff.” chan sighs, “you know what i mean.”

“because of that,” he clicks his tongue, “i can’t have friends, nor can i have relationships because i’m never sure why they’re with me.” chan laughs bitterly and you feel a bit of resentment seeping out as he continues. “is it about the money? the fame? corporate espionage? fuck if i know,” chan looks back out of the window. on his thigh, you see his fist clench.

it was at this moment that you knew that this was not bang christopher chan, but this was only chan beside you, the complex, but relaxed and soft-spoken man you were privileged enough to know and spend time with during late nights in the office. a side of him no one else saw, but for some reason, he was willing to share as you sat beside him on his office couch.

the silence that comes after is louder than anything you’ve heard at the party earlier. you decide to take the leap, reach out, and hold his hand.

“y/n,” he breathes out, stopping your hand. “you’re different, okay? you’re different because you’ve never made me feel that way.” chan runs a hand through his hair. “the men and women in the office tiptoe around me, like there’s eggshells or something,” chan hangs his head down as he taps his fingertips on his thigh. “but you, you barely ever do.”

your breath catches in your throat and you whimper, “chan—“

“i’m not finished,” chan jokes shakily, turning his body to you this time. “you’re not afraid to make mistakes when you’re around me, laugh at my jokes, or sometimes, you just sit there and listen to me ramble.” chan smiles to himself. “you tell me what’s on your mind, your opinions, your views and most of the time, that’s the highlight of my day, not”— he motions with his hands—“the sale i’ll be making in the afternoon or the press conference we’ve got planned.”

us, we. always the duo, you and chan were. but why does tonight feel different and why is the sparkle in his eyes more prominent than before? “hell,” chan rolls his eyes playfully, “you even answer back to me. not a lot of people get that privilege.” even if your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips part to let out a soft giggle.

“and it does infuriate me,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “but i’ll let you do it.” chan lets his eyes meet yours and you freeze.

“over and over again.”

you feel as if a strong wind blows in the car, knocking you back into the seat. you grip the side of your dress to keep your hand from shaking. chan’s stare burns your skin and you try your best not to melt into the car itself. he inhales, “whenever you talk back, it makes me feel human. it reminds me that”—he puts a hand over his chest—“i’m not perfect, that i make mistakes, and that i should let my pride down sometimes.”

“sometimes?” you interrupt. chan’s ears perk up when he hears you and he lets his shoulders relax, his eyes growing soft and a grin forming on his lips. 

“yes, sometimes,” chan snickers. “but, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he sighs, “you make me feel human, not a business drone or ‘the most successful CEO of the year’.”

before you could respond or even make sense of the point, chan quickly adds, “and you probably made hyunjin feel the same way when you tripped. i remember you told me that he bursted out laughing as soon as you left his office.”

“yeah,” you deadpan. “thanks for that memory.” beside you, chan chuckles and the car slows down when the light turns red.

“anytime.”

and with a small smile on his lips, your boss at the other end of the seat looks back out of the window. in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s hand on the middle of the seat. you’re almost tempted to take it into yours as your mind travels to the words he uttered only moments ago.

there’s a reason why he’s awarded as the country’s most successful CEO. chan, as lovingly labelled by the media, is the industry’s Wolf, a title that was given to him during his second year in the position. and though many have come close, like the blonde-haired man in the party earlier, chan has never been overthrown by any other. sharp and smart, bang chan has done more than his father ever could, bringing the company to the international stock market and to other heights that only the other CEOs could dream of.

but, all these achievements came at a price. it’s lonely at the top, as they’ve said, and with bang chan, you saw that very statement come to life. chan, because of his reputation and riches, has closed himself up to make sure his mind and his company stays ahead and clear. that, of course, meant that he had to solve his personal problems on his own.

because who would the man on top run to when there’s no one else with him?

however, with his words, you realize that, maybe, you were that person for him. the person he can laugh and joke around with. the person he can talk to freely, ramble to, and spend time with. the person that allows him to be himself, no judgements, no pressure.

though, you’ve always felt some sort of tension between the two of you, it was enough to know that chan saw you more than just his secretary. you’d rather have him that way, than nothing at all. you turn to him.

you’re about to thank him, but chan’s voice rings out in the car as the light outside turns green. “and apart from all of that, you’re gorgeous too.”

“excuse me?” you choke out, eyes widening. chan turns to you, an eyebrow raised as he exhales through his nose. a soft ‘what?’ leaves his lips. “did i have too much to drink tonight?” chan merely chuckles at the question.

“you didn’t have any,” he responds. you shake your head as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

it couldn’t be possible. was this a dream? first, chan became slightly possessive and now he’s calling you gorgeous like it won’t affect you, like you’ll believe him. the world must be punishing you right now, but if you close your eyes, maybe you’ll wake up in your apartment like it’s groundhog day. as you try and shut the world off, chan calls out your name and it brings you back to the car.

“do you want me to repea—“

“no!” you exclaim, leaning over to grab chan’s forearm.

chan glances at your hand, then at your lips. it’s through this subtle action that you realize how close the two of you are. he blinks at you while his cheeks become coated with a nice shade of red, but he doesn’t pull his arm away. “well, you heard me,” he utters. “i apologize if i don’t say it enough or don’t say it at all.”

you’re about to lose your mind.

“but, um,” chan uses his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, “you really are beautiful. hwang hyunjin knows it, changbin knows it, the staff in the office know it, and i know it.” chan pauses as his eyes scan your face for any reaction, to which you respond only with your mouth slightly opening.  

he huffs as he furrows his eyebrows, “i know it because i get to be with you everyday and i’d be stupid to deny it to myself any further.”

“and yes, it does bother me when men stare at you,” chan continues. your chest tightens and you couldn’t breathe, but it’s somehow the good kind, the kind that you don’t want to end, the kind that you could get used to.

“they see how much of a great woman you are, in the office and out of it. i’m glad they do, but at the same time,” chan pauses to remove his forearm from your grip. he wraps both of his hands around your wrists.

“you and i have been together for so long that i can’t see myself working with anybody new.” you blink. “what if they take you away? what if they offer you a higher salary or promise you more opportunities? or what if the—“

“chan,” you whisper, “just tell me what you want to say.” the man in front of you lets out a shaky breath and when he opens his mouth once more, a mess of incoherent words come out.

“just give it to me straight.” you plead. both of your eyes lock as his breath intertwines with yours.

you’ve only really lit one firework in your whole life.

how it goes is you strike a match to ignite a spark and while it travels down the incredibly long wick, it gives you ample time to run away and cower. the experience of running and waiting was thrilling, but what came after was underwhelming—the spark did not carry over to its destination.

but as chan presses his lips on yours, his hands tightening around your wrists to pull you in closer, you’re finally able to see the spark reach its destination after the 8 years of long, agonizing wait. the firework fires up into the sky, the black canvas being painted by a million different colors all at once. chan removes his hands around your wrists to cup your face.

now, you can say that you’ve lit two fireworks in your life.

compared to the absolute chaos happening inside of your body, the kiss is slow and gentle with chan’s lips, soft and plump, perfectly fitting into yours like a puzzle piece you never knew was missing. you tangle your hands into his hair to push him into you deeper and chan lets you, tilting his head to the side.

chan’s hand is the match that ignites another spark in your chest as it travels down to the side of your neck. your heart pounds louder when his hand settles on your skin, the heat from his fingertips combining with the heat that has formed on your neck.

you find yourself leaning back to the corner of your seat and before you could process it, chan’s on top of you. your skin forms goosebumps when his hand moves down to your waist. when you arch your back and push your torso onto his, you rip a soft groan from the back of his throat.

chan pushes himself off of you, his pupils dilated and his breath not being remotely enough for him.

“what was that for?” you whisper, your chest heaving. outside, you see his mansion come into view.

“you said to give it to you straight.”

but, fuck, you wanted more. you wanted curves, zigzags, waves, all of it. as long as chan’s lips are on yours again, you wanted it all.

truth be told, you’ve never set foot in chan’s house. you’ve only seen the mansion through the car window, but you knew, one way or the other, you’ll be able to see what lies inside. of course, you were his secretary. heed every call, right?

you just didn’t envision that it’d be in this way.

“chan—“

you don’t finish your sentence as you’re gently pushed back onto the front door once it closes. chan’s on you like the way he was in the car, but this time, he’s closer, the distance almost non-existent as he puts his hands on your waist. goosebumps arise from your skin as his lips find their way to your neck. you’ve always thought you were stronger than this, but you’re already gasping for air when he starts peppering kisses down your skin.

“chan,” you breathe. he comes up from the side of your neck with his eyebrow raised and a small grin on his lips. “i thought we had work to do.”

chan hums nonchalantly in response and he merely dives back in your neck, closing the space between the two of you like you weren’t close enough. you find yourself tilting your head to give him more access and chan, being the smart man he is, notices this immediately. he grunts softly and you shiver, his lips latching onto the sides he hasn’t taken in.

you bite your lip, but as much as you were enjoying the attention, especially after 8 years of longing, you and chan had to work. knowing him, he’d value work over this in a heartbeat. you try and push him off of you, but he only tightens his grip.

“chan,” you whine, “this can wai—“

“no,” he mutters as he pulls you into his torso, “it can’t.” he hovers his lips on yours, his hot breath hitting your skin. “i don’t want to wait anymore.” you gasp when he squeezes your waist.

“i can’t. not anymore.”

though chan’s tone is stern, there’s longing in his voice like he’s a man who’s been denied of life’s pleasures for years and frankly, you feel the same way. he didn’t have to say anything else before you’re clashing your lips into his, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging on it. chan presses his body onto yours and you’re pushed back on the door again. you whimper.

chan’s clothed torso is hot against yours and its heat travels down in between your thighs. your wetness pools in your panties and before you knew it, he’s unwrapping his arm from your waist to lift you up. your legs wrap around his torso in an instant, like the both of you have done this before. he grins into the kiss, his hands finding their way to the curve of your ass as he starts walking to his bedroom.

even with his eyes closed and his neck craned up to keep his lips on yours, chan wades smoothly through his furniture and the both of you make it up the stairs with no problem. you should have been more concerned, but knowing bang chan, he’s got you. always have and always will, that much you know. he does, however, accidentally slam you onto his bedroom door. you wince.

“sorry,” chan mumbles. “won’t happen again.”

“excited?” you tease softly. chan chuckles against your lips as he reaches out to grab the door handle.

“very.” you feel a gush of wind hit your back as the door opens. his lips are on yours again as the both of you make your way in.

he lies you down on the bed, your hair splaying all over your shoulders and on the sheets behind you. when chan pulls away, he latches himself onto the skin behind your ear and you sigh as you put your hand on the back of his head. you arch your back into him when you feel his member hardening from below you and all he could do is chuckle, though a bit shaky.

chan runs a hand down to your waist as you spread your legs open to accommodate him. “you’re already so beautiful,” he breathes on your skin, “and you aren’t even naked yet.”

your breath catches in your throat, whimpering in response. it was overwhelming enough to learn that chan finds you beautiful, but to think that he’s thought of you unclothed? you could die happy now, as cheesy as that sounds. he comes up from your neck to press a soft kiss on your jaw. his free hand trails up the side of your body, fingers playing with the zipper located on the side of the dress.

“may i?”

the question rings out in the room and it echoes in the confines of your mind. such a simple, harmless question, but you feel blood rush to every part of your body. your legs close around his torso, your clit starting to throb at the prospect of being undressed by the man you’ve been hopelessly in love with. you nod and chan whispers a soft ‘thank you’ as he starts unzipping your dress.

as you feel your dress start unravelling with his touch, you inhale, taking in chan’s scent. it’s a combination of mint and lemon and it’s something you’ve gotten used to after years of working with him. it’s never been anything but cologne to you, but tonight it’s ambrosial and intoxicating. you let yourself drown in it, closing your eyes as chan’s lips continue to do their wonders on your neck.

the cold air hits your skin once chan fully unzips your dress and it brings you back to his bed, in his presence, in his hold. you whimper softly in his ear. he squeezes your waist, grunting as he presses a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“i can’t believe we waited this long,” chan whispers. you giggle before slowly slipping your arms out of your now loose dress straps. you don’t break the eye contact as you tug your dress down to your chest. the dip in between your tits catches chan’s attention and he breaks the stare to shamelessly trail his eyes down.

chan licks his bottom lip before he looks back up at you.

“we don’t have to wait anymore,” you reassure, reaching a hand up to swipe your thumb over his lip, glistening and swollen.

at your words, chan’s eyes dilate and darken. the color of his cheeks turn into a shade of red and as you’re about to tease, chan tugs your dress down your chest, exposing your breasts in all of its entirety. heat travels all over your body and your nipples harden under his touch. chan dips down to your chest like the bead of sweat trickling down your back and you can only moan when his lips start sucking the skin in between your breasts.

you whimper when he cups one of your tits, kneading it softly as he continues to suck on the skin. your hand finds its way to chan’s shoulder and you grip it as he pulls away with a soft pop. chan gazes up at you before smirking, your words failing you once again when he attaches his lips beside your nipple, nipping on the skin to leave another mark.

you moan his name as your hand latches onto the back of his head, pulling him into your skin even more. his teeth graze you and you arch your back into him, only to be pushed down by his hand on your waist. he doesn’t say anything once he pulls away, only going back in to leave more marks on your chest.

as if the marks weren’t proof of who you belonged to, chan utters, “mine.” you squeeze his shoulder tighter. “all mine.”

maybe, this is why chan’s called “the Wolf”.

your mouth falls open, his name falling off of it as his lips wrap around your nipple. the hand on your waist moves back up to cup your other breast. one of chan’s fingers plays with your other nipple and your hips lifts up to meet him, your heat making contact with his member. chan groans onto your skin, the vibrations travelling back down to where you ached for him.

“you say my name so prettily, babe.” the nickname shoots you straight in the chest and your heart aches. never in a million years did you think that chan would be on you the way he was now. the thought makes you whine softly. you feel chan’s hand move away from your breast. it follows the curve of your body and it slips in between your thighs, making you spread your legs even further apart. chan chuckles breathlessly.

you shiver when he presses his fingers in the front of your panties and you bite your lip when he starts rubbing, his tongue on your nipple following the motion of his fingers below you. as most new lovers, however, chan’s missing where you needed him most and you move your hips to help him find it. chan’s off of your nipple the moment you call out above him, chest slightly heaving as he looks up at you.

“can you move—“ you pant, “to the left?”

it takes a second for him to realize, the movement of his fingers slowing to a halt as he tilts his head. he blushes softly when he does and he chuckles. “i... just—“ he complies with your needs, but he’s still not—

“oh fuck. yeah,” you cry out when he finally finds your nub. “right there, chan. right there.”

“yeah baby,” he grunts, a smirk taking over his lips after. “i feel you.”

it’s amazing how chan’s making you see stars when he’s only rubbing you through your panties. chan notices this too, pecking one of the marks he left on your chest as he hums, moving down in between your legs. he inhales softly, fingers still making circles on your clit.

“god,” he groans. “you smell so sweet.” your wetness gushes out of you and you grip the sheets beside you, biting your lip as you feel his hot breath caress your folds. chan raises his eyes and he licks his lip when your eyes lock.

“i want to taste you.”

so simple, so straightforward, yet so obscene coming from the mouth of an executive. chan grins when you breathe a ‘yes’, your back arching when he hooks a finger on the waist band of your panties, teasingly taking his time as he pulls it down your thighs. you buck your hips up and chan snickers, “okay, okay. i got it.”

he puts your panties aside before he comes back up to your torso. his clothed member is dangerously close to yours and you’re almost tempted to grind yourself onto him. “let’s get this off,” chan mumbles as he tugs on your dress. “now.”

it may be the secretary in you or it may just be the lust that’s driving you at this point, but you’re scrambling to help chan get rid of the dress that’s clinging to your body. you shiver when it’s removed fully, the dress hitting the floor with a soft thud. chan looks down at you and he lets out a long breath like he’s been holding one in. you blush and instinctively, your hands try to cover your body. he frowns as he leans back down to grab a hold of your hands.

“no,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. “your body’s beautiful. you’re beautiful. don’t hide from me.”

chan lets go of your hands and you let them fall down to your sides. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to see you like this?” he mutters as he kisses down your torso. goosebumps form on your skin. “especially when you wear those skirts.”

your heart pounds in your chest when he settles in between your thighs, kissing them before he dips down to press a kiss on your clit. your hand goes to his hair, your core clenching at the feeling of being empty.

“sir—“

“oh, that’s so cliché,” chan interjects, a playful smile on his lips as he raises his head.  the atmosphere in the room changes and you find yourself opening your eyes as you prop yourself up with your elbows. you raise an eyebrow as heat travels to your cheeks.

“i—“

“if i got off to that nickname, i would have had a hard-on every time you called me sir.”

you roll your eyes with a huff as you lie back down on the bed. “just get on with it.”

“wow,” he laughs softly, “my secretary’s ordering me around now?”

truthfully, you loved banter with chan, but not tonight. not when he’s there, in between your thighs, purposefully ignoring the sex that’s staring him straight in the eyes. always the tease, bang chan was. you’re just not having it tonight.

“i’m not your secretary right now.”

you hear chan inhale sharply and within a second, he’s on your core like a fiend craving a shot of his drug. your hand’s on his hair again, tugging on it as you moan incoherently. he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, the lewd sounds of his tongue lapping your wetness ringing out in the room after. your hip bucks up when he starts sucking on your clit and he puts your leg over his shoulder in the process to give him more access to your folds.

“you’re so delicious,” chan groans. “better than anything i’ve ever tasted.” you moan out brokenly, pulling him back into your clit like your life depended on it. he chuckles against it and the vibrations allow an explosion of a million fireworks inside of you. your mouth falls open the way your legs do, your moans filling the room with the sound of chan’s full lips on your pussy.

chan smirks below you, obviously pleased by the way your body is reacting to him. it’s embarrassing, but that’s what he gets for taking his precious time with you. you know he won’t let this go any time soon, but you couldn’t care less. he pecks your clit before pulling away. your clit throbs at the loss of the friction, but chan makes up for it when he plunges two of his fingers inside of you.

the intrusion is sudden, but welcome, as your back flies off of the bed with a loud cry, sitting up as you grip his shoulder. chan mewls softly as he plants a hand outside of your thigh to support himself as he leans up to crash his lips into yours. you taste your juices on him when he swipes his tongue on your bottom lip and your wetness seeps out, dripping onto the sheets below you. his fingers continue their assault on your pussy, alternatively thrusting and rubbing your walls.

chan pulls away from the kiss and a string of your combined spit attaches itself on his bottom lip. he breaks the string by licking his bottom lip and you find it unfair how chan’s lips just continue to look immaculate despite how swollen and red it is. he simpers as he rests his forehead on yours, sweat starting to form on its sides.

“do you hear yourself, baby?” he purrs. “do you hear how wet you are for me?” for him, for him, for him. all for chan, all for the man you’ve loved for years now. your hand wraps around his nape, pulling chan into your shoulder as he continues to thrust into your heat. he groans as he bites down on the skin, the sound of your slick overpowering anything else in the bedroom. you feel the familiar coil starting to form in your lower regions.

your cunt clenches around his fingers when he curls them and your hips start to gyrate. “y/n,” chan moans, “you’re getting so tight.” you whimper his name as your wetness coats his fingers even more, the sound and the smell of your sex getting more and more prominent as the coil in your stomach threatens to unravel for chan.

“cum for me, baby,” he growls. “cum.”

chan wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body. you shake and tremble in his hold as he whispers sweet nothings and praises in your ear. his fingers slow to help you ride out your orgasm and he hums as your legs continue to shiver at his sides. he thrusts his fingers in once, twice, before he pulls them out, pulling away from the embrace to lick his fingers clean. he groans in delight.

you’re panting as you push chan onto the bed, getting on top of him before pressing your swollen lips onto his. naturally, his hands fall onto your hips as your lips move in sync. you run your hand down his clothed chest, the satin feeling supple against your fingertips. your desire, fuelled by the adrenaline surging through your veins, makes you whimper as you pop open the remaining buttons of chan’s polo.

every pop is significant to the way the both of you are letting yourselves go, baring your bodies and souls to each other after years of not being able to, after years of merely hoping. your heart pounds as you rip open chan’s polo, sighing as his torso shines underneath the light streaming inside the bedroom. chan pulls you back into his lips with a gentle hand on the back of your neck.

chan’s lips are soft on yours and you let yourself get carried away as you cup his face. chan hums as he sits up to remove his polo, lips not moving away from yours. he throbs in between your thighs and you gasp. chan takes this opportunity to slip his tongue to connect with yours and the both of you create a new language in the process.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he whines as the both of you pull away. “you’ve always been so beautiful.”

you blush, your hand caressing his cheek gently as you utter a soft ‘thank you’. you share one more quick kiss before your hand moves down his torso to start unbuckling his pants. “let me return the favor.”

“no,” chan answers, reaching down to hold your wrist. “you don’t need to.”

“baby—“

he tightens his hold on your wrist as he pleads softly, “please. you always take care of me, y/n.” he leans up to mutter on your lips, “let me do that for you tonight.”

you weren’t strong enough to refuse the offer and you let chan raise you up from his lap, only to be lied down on the bed once more. you relax into the mattress as chan positions himself in between your legs. as he unbuckles his belt, your mind travels to the moment in the car and you can’t help but wonder—

“you meant what you said earlier, right?”

chan’s eyes are on you immediately as he hears your voice, his hands stopping. “of course, i did.”

“you didn’t just say that to get in my pants?”

chan bites his lip to suppress a laugh and he shakes his head as his hands resume their task earlier. “no,” he giggles. “if that was my plan the whole time, i would have just said ‘hey, i’m bang chan’ and your pants would have slid right off.”

you throw your head back onto the pillows as you laugh softly. “that didn’t happen when you interviewed me.”

“yeah, well,” chan mumbles, sliding out of his pants, “it’s happening now.”

“8 years after, but okay.”

“it’s still happening, so my point still stands,” chan shrugs, chuckling when he sees you cross your arms in front of your chest. “i’m sorry,” he laughs as he leans down to kiss you. “i’m kidding.”

“you’re so full of yourself, babe,” you tease.

your smile disappears when chan’s cock springs out of his boxers, thick and hard, with the tip red and glistening as pre-cum leaks out of it. the base is adorned with his veins, prominent enough to show up in the darkness. his cock twitches and your mouth opens, salivating at the sight of him. 

when you look back up, you let your eyes take in chan and you marvel at him, basking in the presence of a man whose body looks like it has been sculpted by the Gods up above. shoulders broad, muscles defined, your core throbs and tightens at the promise of getting to have him tonight.

it was here that you understood that you didn’t need to be swept off of your feet or be brought to anywhere else fancy when bang chan, in all of his glory, is no place you’ve ever been to. you’re more than willing to get to know him tonight and let him take you where he pleased.

“you’re about to be full of me in a second,” he jokes, smirking. his cheeks turn pink and you try your best to ignore the fondness brewing in your stomach. despite putting on his confident facade, you know chan is as nervous as you are. “lie back.”

you rest your back on the sheets below you, your legs opening to welcome chan in between them for the second time tonight. the feeling of his hands on the side of your body awakens something feral in you and before you can process the reaction, you buck your hips up onto him, your wet core brushing his hard cock. he groans as he pulls away, spitting on his palm before smearing it all over his member. you lick your lip before reaching up to hold his nape once more.

“ready?” he asks as he pumps himself, lining himself up in front of your core.

you feel as if you’re walking a tightrope when he asks you the question. one misstep and you’re falling into everything that encapsulated him, into everything that was bang chan. were you ready to let go and let him overwhelm you? after 8 long years, you finally let your foot slip and the next thing you know, you’re looking back up at chan, hand squeezing his shoulder as you say,

“ready as i’ll ever be, baby.”

it’s as if the gates of heaven opened when chan pushes himself in you, the both of your moans creating a melodic symphony that echoes in the bedroom. his girth parts your walls and the feeling burns ever so slightly. you whimper as you bite your lip, throwing your head back onto the pillows. a comforting hand rests on your waist as he stops at his thickest.

“you’re so big,” you choke out. he hums as he leans down to bury his face in your neck to smile against it. chan presses a soft kiss on your skin as he bottoms out, groaning softly when your cunt clenches around him. you put a hand on his back, pressing his skin as he pulls out fully. he pushes back in roughly, the sound of his balls hitting your skin echoing in the whole room. you claw at his back as you arch yours, gasping, and he grunts softly.

chan starts thrusting, his skin grinding against your swollen nub. “your pussy’s so tight, babe,” he moans. you sigh in response as your legs wrap around his torso, pushing him in you even deeper. you needed him, you wanted him, and you’re here to make sure you get to experience bang chan in ways you’ve never experienced him. it doesn’t matter how many he’s had before you. what matters is that he’s in you now, thrusting his cock and taking you to heaven.

“you’re so good,” you praise, voice cracking as a whine comes out. “you’re so good to me.”

“yeah?” chan breathes, a smug smile forming on his lips. his chest heaves as he continues to ram into you. his skin is hot against yours and you drown in the feeling and in his scent. “you’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” you whine in response. “such a dirty mind for a refined secretary. ”

chan bites down on your shoulder before slowing his thrusts, raising his head from your neck. “turn around.”

it doesn’t register quickly, but once it does, you’re off of his cock to get on fours, planting your hands on the soft mattress and arching your back to expose yourself to chan. he groans behind you, hovering over you as he puts a hand on the headboard in front of you.

“tell me what you want,” chan whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“baby, please,” you cry. “you know.”

chan snickers, pushing only the tip of his cock in. “i need to hear you say it.”

“chan—“

“tell me, baby. tell me what you want.”

“your cock, chan. please, i want it. i need it. i want to feel you inside me, please. pl—“

chan squeezes your hips before pounding his cock inside of you. you cry out his name, throwing your head back as your eyes close. you get lost in chan’s grunts, letting them wrap themselves around your body the way chan’s arm snakes around your waist. he pulls your body back into him, your back flushing against his chest. the sounds of your slick coating chan’s cock as he continues to ram into you rings in your ears and you feel your clit ache below you.

“god, baby,” chan grunts. “it’s like my cock’s made for you.”

you whine at his words, your hand making its way down to rub circles on your clit. chan growls softly, removing his hand from the headboard to hold your wrist.

“let me,” he mutters. “let me take you there.”

you weren’t about to say no.

the promise of an orgasm looms on you as chan draws rough circles on your clit. his thrusts start to syncopate from his rhythm and he pushes you back down on the bed gently. you bury your face on his soft sheets and you turn your head to the side as you moan and whine an incoherent mess of praises and curses. you grip the sheets as you spread your legs apart and your thighs start to shake as chan presses his fingers down on your clit.

“baby,” you rasp, tears forming in the corner of your eyes, “i can’t—“ 

chan grunts, “you want to cum for me again?”

“yes, please, please, pl—“

“gush on my cock, baby. let me feel you.”

it’s pure ecstasy when you do, letting yourself go in the pleasure of everything that was bang chan—his moans, grunts, breathing, cock, everything. you cry out into his sheets and grip them until your knuckles turn white. your legs try to close as your whole body shakes and just like the first time, chan takes you to a place you’ve never been, your vision turning blurry as he continues to pound you. your toes curl as you moan his name,  like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. behind you, chan whines softly.

“where do you want me to cum?”

you don’t respond immediately, body shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm. “inside,” you pant. “give it to me.”

chan cries, “jesus, fuck.” he loses his rhythm completely as he leans over you, his sweat falling on your back. “shit, y/n, baby, i— ”

he thrusts a few more times before he grabs your hips, pulling you into him with a groan as he spills his cum, hot and sticky, inside of you. your pussy clamps down on his cock as he grinds inside you to ride his high out, his hand finding its way to the dip of your back. he pulls out after a short while and you whine at the emptiness that comes with it. you do, however, feel both of your juices seep out of you, dripping down on his bed sheets.

“what a sight,” chan mutters behind you as you let your body fall on the bed. you giggle softly as you close your legs, the high wearing down as your body starts to feel heavy. you have a feeling you’d be sore tomorrow, but the both of you weren’t expecting many to come into work, anyway. so, you’ll end up getting away with it. for now. the bed dips beside you and chan pulls you into him, your back against his chest.

for a moment, you listen to his breathing and focus on the way his fingers lied on your stomach. your eyes start to grow heavy, but you hear chan whisper, “are you okay?”

“i am,” you respond softly, turning around to face him. once your eyes meet, chan smiles as he tucks a hair strand on the back of your ear. his hair is disheveled and wet with sweat, but still, chan looked as well put together as he always does. you lean up to kiss him, your lips moving slowly on each other. when you pull away, chan’s eyes are twinkling and he lets out a soft hum of satisfaction.

“so,” you mumble, playfully tapping his bottom lip, “are we still going to work tonight?”

chan groans, throwing his head back with a chuckle. “it can wait.”

“no. it can’t,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. chan’s arms around your waist tighten as he pulls you closer.

“don’t use my words against me,” chan grins. he places his hand on the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair. your eyes grow heavy and the next thing you know, you’re wavering in between falling asleep and staying awake.

you do hear chan’s voice in the midst of all of this, a soft and gentle, “hey, i love you.” you feel him kiss your forehead before you blissfully fall into oblivion.

you wake up when chan’s bedroom door bursts open, the door handle hitting the wall.

you raise your head, squinting as you watch chan come in with a tray of food. the aroma hits your nose immediately and your stomach growls softly. he gives you a quick, apologetic smile as he puts the tray down at the edge of the bed.

“good morning,” he greets, running a hand through his hair. he sits down beside the tray and he grins. your eyes travel down his figure, the black formal polo from last night is on his torso again, paired with the boxers, you could only assume, he was wearing last night.

friday, a new work day for the two of you. “good morning to you too, sir,” you mumble before rubbing your eyes. your chest stings from all of the marks from last night and you wince. chan lets out a soft hum, reaching out to hold your hand in his.

“did you sleep well?”

“yeah. thanks to you,” you tease. chan runs his thumb on your palm, inhaling as he looks up at you, cheeks pink.

a comfortable silence falls in the room as the both of you sit in each other’s company. it was overwhelming enough that you woke up in chan’s bed, but now he’s cooked you breakfast, plated it, and put it on a tray to bring to you. it didn’t even occur to you that he knew how to cook. you smile to yourself as you realize— you didn’t know everything about him yet. you part your lips to speak, but you didn’t notice chan doing the same.

“listen—“

“chan—“

“oh, you go firs—“

“no, you can—“

the two of you huff simultaneously, laughing at each other. “you go first,” you giggle. chan nods, coughing into his fist with a smile.

“about last night,” he starts, “i hope i didn’t hurt you too much.”

you look down at your chest playfully as you shrug. “it’s no big deal,” you hum. “i enjoyed it.” chan chuckles in response. he watches as you reach over to the plate, letting go of his hand as you bring the plate to your lap. “did you enjoy?” you question.

“yeah, of course,” chan responds immediately. “what’s not to enjoy? i mean, you were spectacular.”

“i could say the same to you, mister ‘no, i can’t wait anymore’.” you joke. chan’s cheeks flush as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. you dig in your breakfast as chan does the same, the both of you eating in silence. you rest your back on the headboard and you watch chan. his hair is made already and he looks like he’s ready to start the work day. you bite your lip as you look down, your body merely being covered by the duvet. suddenly, memories of last night flood your mind and you sigh softly.

chan catches it immediately.

“y/n?”

“where does this lead us?” you ask, putting down your utensils. “you know, this—“ you motion between the two of you—“whatever this is.” you didn’t know what answer you’re waiting for, but you hope it’s positive.

chan thinks for a moment and the silence is deafening. he puts his hand on your thigh,   putting down his plate beside him. “we can tell the office that we’re dating or...” he trails off, looking up at the ceiling, “we can keep this between us for now.”

your eyes widen, coughing as you struggle to come up with an answer. you and chan were together now? chan mentioned the word already, right? his eyes grow worried and he comes over to stroke your back. “did i say something wrong?”

“no, god, no, i just didn’t expect—“

“that i liked you back?” chan furrows his eyebrows. “i think last night was proof enough, baby.”

you blush, covering your face in your hands. chan chuckles softly as he leans over to move your hands away. “we can figure it out as we go,” he hums. “you don’t need to give me an answer right now, okay?”

you nod, your mind in shambles. your breath hitches as chan presses a kiss on your wrist. he looks up at you, “once we’re done eating, we can start the day.” you blink at him and he merely laughs.

“are you even ready for today?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, a smile on his lips.

the question hits you in many different ways, your mind travelling back to the last words you heard from him last night. are you ready to finally be with chan after all these years? you scan his face, taking him in as his smile reaches his eyes. chan looked beautiful and you know you wouldn’t be anywhere else, wouldn’t be with anyone else because all you needed is in front of you and he always has been. both of you were just too stupid to admit it to yourselves.

you straighten your back, clear your throat, throw your disheveled hair behind your shoulder, and smile at him.

“ready as i’ll ever be.”

[monocaelia]

royalty au headcanons

what they would be in a royalty au and the sweet moments shared with them.

feat. albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, venti

genre : fluff, slight angst in childe's

❀ albedo

albedo is the royally appointed painter of your family. he's in charge of painting all of the portraits of the royal family, which is well deserved. the blond artist's brush strokes and painting techniques make all of his works of art feel so alive, almost as if they could walk out of the canvas they were painted on and live amongst the people.

he prides in his works, always making sure each square inch of each painting absolutely perfect before presenting it to the royal family. even if they were already perfect to begin with. but, as they say, you're your own worst critic.

from since you were both young, he was hired by your family to teach you the basics of the arts as well as how to properly hold a brush.

so, you could say albedo has watched you grow from a grubby child to the elegant and refined person you grew up to be. an honor, really, to watch the stars in your eyes grow brighter and brighter with each passing year.

"ah, you've messed up the brush stroke here," albedo's gentle voice points out the mistake in your technique. your ears burn from having your mistakes pointed out, but you know it's for the best. you clear your throat and try to fix it, only to have albedo sigh from beside you.

"like this, your highness." before you can even react, you feel the heat from albedo's chest radiating against your back and your hand is encased in his own. he guides your hand with his, making the brush you're holding glide smoothly across the canvas.

his hand is cold, you think to yourself, and you wonder if he's been maintaining his health properly. but in contrast to his hand, his breath is warm against your ear as he talks you through the painting technique.

it's hard to focus when you're feeling overstimulated from the proximity of the blond painter and the rather domestic position you're in; almost as if your entire body is being embraced by the artist you grew up with.

"understand, your highness?" his quiet voice breaks your thoughts. he's close to you... so close. you gulp, praying to the archons above that albedo couldn't feel your hands shaking from this entire exchange.

"i thought you were supposed to call me by my name when we're alone together, albedo," you stutter out shakily. it's then that albedo realizes the position the two of you are in. his teal eyes widen slightly in surprise and his ears begin to burn a light pink. the artist pulls away, muttering a small apology to you.

though, albedo has to admit that having you in his arms, albeit for painting, felt so nice. from the position he was in, albedo could have counted the thousands of stars that your eyes held; and he would do anything to see them again.

❀ childe

ajax became a knight of your kingdom from a young age. he was always bored from the day to day schedule of his familial job; he wanted more and nothing could satiate the need to do something, anything that could give him the exhilaration that he needed.

which being in the knights provided for him. from learning how to properly wield a sword, to sparring with the best knights in your kingdom, to being a master at any and all weapons in your artillery, the ginger haired knight loved every second. he always felt alive when wielding his weapon, always grinning ear to ear when he's sparring for fun.

despite being a terrifying machine of war, ajax would never betray your family, let alone you. he swore an oath to protect everyone in the kingdom when he joined the knights, and that included you. the one who has watched him since he was a clumsy knight in training, fixed up his injuries, and wiped his tears away when he was frustrated with himself.

the call of ajax's name alerts him of your presence along with the quick pads of your shoes against the pavement. said male turns to look at you, smile big and bright on his face. "your highness! fancy seeing you here so late. did you miss me that mu-"

"is it true?" you interrupt him. your furrowed brows and frown etched onto your features contrast against the bright expression on the knight's. ajax's smile falters a bit when you stop in front of him, holding your arm and biting your lip in concern. "is it true that you're going to fight in the war?"

ajax blinks, stunned at your question. but he laughs lowly, not helping you in your concerned state. "of course, why wouldn't i? i made an oath to protect you, your family, and the people. it's my duty to go to the front lines."

his cerulean eyes stare into your own. you take a breath, hesitating on what to say or do next. ajax assumes you're going to scold him for throwing himself into the pits of danger, assumes that you're going to yell at him because when he fights he fights with no care to his own body. he would power on through the fight until he physically wasn't capable anymore.

"would you stay with me if i asked you to?"

your question surprises the ginger knight. out of all things that you could have done or said, he wasn't expecting this.

his finger strokes your cheek, sliding forward until your jaw rests in the palm of his hand. ajax gives you a smile, endearing yet bittersweet. he wants to stay here with you, to see your annoyed expression when he ends up hurting himself again or the huge smile on your face when he does something dumb.

but duty calls. and you know that.

his heart falls when you sigh and pull away from his touch. but it flutters again when he feels something hard press into the palm of his hand, your own covering his.

"then, promise me you won't die out there, ajax. take this lucky charm of mine and stay safe. i'll miss you."

you plant a quick kiss on his freckled cheek and run off before he could see you cry. unfolding his hands, he's greeted with the delicate, red mask you've placed in his hands.

❀ diluc

being the heir to the throne of your own family makes it hard to miss the prince of the neighboring kingdom. prince diluc is a stoic and hard to please person. every time you've seen him in passing at royal balls, he has always had a frown or blank expression on his face.

but, despite what his outer expression and appearance shows, the young prince is a kind and gentle individual. at least to you. in contrast to how stoic he is with others, his warmth is always welcoming and comforting to you. if he's being honest, you're one of the few people, if not the only person, who has witnessed the genuine yet small smile of prince diluc.

when he has the time off, he writes letters to you, often complaining about how useless the knights and how he would rather work alone. but he never fails to indulge you about the little things that have happened since the last time he has spoken to you. how he misses seeing you and that the next time you visit he would take you to a beautiful meadow he passed by on one of his scouts around mondstadt.

you, his only friend who sees the young prince as who he is, and not what the rumors, nor what his title says he is.

"thought i'd see you out here." diluc's ears perk at the familiar cadence of your voice. his eyes that held the warmth of fire flit up to look at you, and his breath is taken away. underneath the gentle glow of the moon, you're practically glowing in front of him. with rich, beautiful silks covering your body and a comforting smile quirking your lips up.

"what are you doing out here? it's cold out here, and the party's inside, [name]," he scolds you. diluc's expression deadpans when you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth and shrug. when a cold breeze flows through and you physically shiver, the red haired prince sighs and slides off his coat, throwing it over your shoulders.

"i could say the same to you. besides, i saw you out here looking lonely and like a fool, so i thought it would be nice to join you. so you don't look so pathetic." it takes everything in the young prince to not take his jacket back from you and march back inside the palace with the intolerable guests. "i'm kidding! but not about the lonely part. are you alright?"

the playful glint in your eyes disappears in that moment, captivating diluc yet again. he could never outright tell you this, but your eyes are the most beautiful he has ever seen. filled with actual starlight and twinkling with fondness for the awkward prince.

"yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with the guests inside."

you hum in response to him. "well. why don't i keep you company then? from one royal to another. we don't have to say anything, but having someone with you is comforting, right?" ruby eyes widen when you step forward and grab onto his hands, intertwining them. he hopes his cheeks aren't as red as they feel and that you can't see his blush despite the proximity.

"r-right. as long as it's just you, [name]."

maybe the young prince will find the courage to be more forward with you, ask to court you with a bouquet if your favorite flowers and a love letter slipped in between the petals. but for now, he finds solace in your company and your gentle hand laced with his.

❀ kaeya

the origins of how kaeya ended up in your kingdom's calvary is an enigma. no one is quite sure where he had come from, nor had any idea who he trained under considering he was an exceptional equestrian and sword fighting on horseback came so easy to him. every time anyone asked him about his background or history, the blue haired knight would always brush it off and redirect the conversation to something else.

despite having a mysterious background, kaeya still ended up captain of your calvary not too long after he joined your kingdom. though, anyone could have expected it considering he easily outwitted the previous calvary captain in their own sparring sessions.

during his time there, you can't admit that kaeya hasn't caught your eye. he's handsome; his laughter and taunts while sparring with the other knights sends butterflies to your stomach. charismatic and always lightly teasing you whenever you drop by the knight's hall made it difficult to suppress the rhythmic thrum of your heart.

"oh come on, your highness. don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." the smirk on kaeya's face only grows when you send him a glare. he finds it amusing that you're still trying to stand your ground despite your evident fear of the horse in front of you. "i thought you knew how to mount a horse."

the calvary captain snickers when you tell him that you are going to, that you're just not familiar with his horse. his sapphire eye follows your movements and form a crescent when his horse turns her head to look at you.

as you try and muster out an explanation on why you were startled, kaeya takes this time to slide his hands underneath your arms and hoists you up above the horse. your leg slips over the saddle of the pure white mare and you yelp in surprise at the sudden motion.

before you can yell at kaeya for not warning you, the calvary captain climbs onto the saddle behind you. because of the limited space on his horse, the blue haired knight's chest is pressed against your back and his arms encase you so that he could properly hold onto the reins.

"cat got your tongue, your highness? there's no need to be so scared, i won't let you fall. well, unless you're being more unpleasant than usual. don't blame me if you end up on the floor."

laughter surrounds you when you yell at the calvary captain to 'stop messing around.' he can't help it; kaeya loves riling you up and hearing his name slip from your lips regardless of if it's in between fits of giggles or out of anger when he teases you one too many times.

from the position you're in, you aren't able to witness the endearing look that adorns kaeya's visage when you calm down and lean into his touch as soon as his mare starts moving.

❀ venti

there's nothing that suits venti more than being associated with music in some way, shape, or form. he's a well known musician around your kingdom; knowing at least the basics of every instrument known to man and having every song he has ever heard by memory.

rumors around your kingdom flutter around, saying that hearing a song sung by venti himself could cure almost any disease because of how angelic and healing his voice is. of course, it's not true but the young bard likes to play along with it. anything to get free drinks at the local bar, right?

there's no surprise that your family hired the bard to become your piano tutor. but cheeky smiles, poetic songs regarding the beauty of nature, and lyrical poetry of the beauty you hold make it hard for you to not fall for the playful virtuoso.

a delicate melody drifts down the halls of the castle, elegant staccato piano cords resonate in each other's harmony. your fingers deftly glide over the ivory keys, eyes closed and letting your memory guide you through the piece.

beside you, venti plays your counterpart with a gentle smile on his face. a contrast to the beautiful, yet complicated composition that was being performed.

it was his idea to learn this rather tedious piano duet; you thought it was too difficult because of the complicated melodic line and technical harmonies. you recall many nights filled with frustrated tears and crumpled silk from trying to perfect the melody given to you; and venti's gentle voice as he consoled you during those nights and urged you to rest.

before you know it, the piano duet ends with a final statement of the tonic harmony. silence settles into the room as the final chord resonates in the empty concert hall, only to be broken when you shout victoriously.

"your highness, that was a wonderful performance!" venti congratulates you with a proud smile on his lips. the percussive beat in his chest accelerates when you beam at him, the candlelight making your eyes gleam as if they held the entire universe in them.

"it's all thanks to you, venti! oh gosh, i'm so proud of us i could almost kiss you!" the statement leaves your mouth without thinking and leaves the both of you stunned. one, two, three beats of silence and on the fourth you begin to stutter out an apology with a flustered expression on your face.

venti's airy, light laugh fills your ears and echoes against the vast walls of the concert hall. you want to dig yourself in a hole and hide for the rest of your life.

"and what if i take you up on that offer, your highness? or should i call you [name] now? a kiss ending this performance of ours would be way better than a bow, don't you think?"

[sleepysnk]

hey hey! i'm back with some stuff for Eren because tbh i really liked this scenario. this kind of makes me happy because i feel like this happens often, and ngl, i see Eren kind of like this? not exactly sure, but i hope you guys enjoy! 🖤

Ditched

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol, fluff at the end

A sigh came from Eren's mouth as he leaned up against the wall at the party he was currently at.

He got invited to this party that Reiner was hosting, of course Eren wasn't going to say no to a party, and Reiner being his friend he couldn't necessarily deny it would be bad. Reiner always threw some bangers and knew how to get all kinds of people to come. It was no lie to say Reiner was like a damn celebrity.

Eren on the other hand, wasn't having the greatest time.

He was waiting for someone. More specifically, Mina Carolina.

Eren and Mina had been talking for a few weeks and the two were starting to get to a point where they could reach a serious relationship, and Eren figured he'd invite her to the party. He genuinely liked her, but recently she started acting way different towards Eren. She became more dry and only interested in what Eren had to... offer. His friends explained that maybe she was just going through something, but something in his gut told him that things weren't right.

Here he was now, waiting for about 30 minutes or so. She still hadn't replied, nor showed up. It slightly made Eren's heart feel heavy, he felt like he had his time wasted.

He looked down at his phone, going to her messages.

8:28 <-Eren: hey i'm here

8:35 <-Eren: did you get the address?

8:47 <-Eren: Mina? where are you?

8:51 <-Eren: are you even coming?

9:01 <-Eren: hello??

Read: 9:05 P.M.

Eren clicked his phone off, placing it in his pocket after realizing she most likely wasn't showing up. Another disappointment in a talking stage, he was certain Mina was a nice girl. She was introduced to him Sasha, she never said anything bad about Mina. For one, Sasha always talked Mina up to Eren, but he guessed she wasn't into it anymore.

"Hey Eren! Did she show up?" Connie yelled over the loud music. "We've got some sick jello shots!" he said, smiling excitedly at him.

Eren didn't even feel excitement anymore, he just felt upset. His whole mood just crashed and he wanted nothing but to go home and sleep, maybe a nap would do him some good, or maybe some McDonald's.

"I think I'm gonna head home!" Eren shouted back, looking at Connie.

Connie nodded. "Are you sure?! Did she ditch you or something?!" he asked, looking around to find the black-haired girl who was no where to be seen.

"I guess so!" he yelled, looking at the time on his phone.

Eren felt the fullness of his bladder from the alcohol he consumed. He needed to pee before he leaves or he'll explode.

"Hey where's the bathroom!?" Eren asked, shouting at Connie.

He rubbed the back of his head. "Upstairs! Third door on the left!" he yelled, turning to walk away. "Drive safe by the way!" he added, walking away.

Eren shoved his phone back in his pocket and made his way up the long stairs to find the bathroom, his ears having a slight ring from going further away from the loud music that blasted below him.

As he made his way up the steps, he passed different people drunkenly falling down the stairs, or couples who were eating each other's faces. Making him cringe as he passed by as he heard the soft kissing noises coming from them. Gross.

He passed the multiple doors, hearing soft moans from girls who decided that hooking up with college guys was a good idea, or he heard different people yelling at those who were taking shots or hanging around in those usual smoke circles with marijuana.

"Third door on the left.." Eren said to himself as he stopped in front of the bathroom door which was shut.

The light was on and someone was clearly using it, so he decided to just wait for whoever was in there to come out. Eren kept looking at his phone as he waited, a few people passing by him and heading into the bedrooms. He assumed they were going in there to do the usual.

After about 10 minutes of waiting, Eren was starting to get antsy. Why the hell was someone in the bathroom for this long? He thought the person could be sick or maybe two people decided to go and hookup in the bathroom.

He decided to just knock, approaching the door he used his finger to knock on the door.

"Yo! Open the door! I gotta pee," he said, leaning against it so whoever was in there could hear him.

No response.

He sighed, whoever was in there clearly heard him, because he heard shifting behind the door.

"Look, just open the damn door. A line is going to form soon," Eren said, knocking once again on the door.

No response once again.

Eren decided to just say fuck it and open the door. He hesitated a bit and put his hand on the knob, nobody was really around to see him. He looked around and turned the knob which was unlocked, pushing it open he was faced with a girl.

She was leaning against the sink, a red solo cup next to her. Eren took in her features noticing dark mascara smudged around her eyes, along with tears going down her face.

The girls head snapped towards him. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry... um, I was just in here. Were you trying to come in?" she asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Eren stood there for a moment taking in her appearance. "No don't worry.. um my bad for slamming the door open. I just needed to pee," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why are you crying? If you don't mind me asking," he asked, looking at her puffy eyes.

She sniffed. "Um.. it's really stupid, especially telling a stranger. I'm sorry, also don't apologize for coming in. I didn't hear you, I'm gonna go now." she said, grabbing her items.

Eren felt guilt washing over him noticing how sad she looked, she had nobody around her. Usually when he found girls crying at parties they were surrounded by their friends, but she was alone. Something about it didn't sit right with Eren, and he wanted to know what was up with her.

"Wait!" Eren said, stopping the girl in her tracks.

She looked back with her brows furrowed. "Huh?" she said.

He looked away and then back at her. "Look I know I may not know you, but you seem really upset right now, and I know how it feels to be alone. If I can, I'd like to know why you're crying in a bathroom." he replied, crossing his arms.

The girl stopped and stood, looking down at the floor. "Um.. well, it's a lot and I feel like it'd just bother you really. I need to call an Uber anyway," she said, going onto her phone. "Thank you really but it'd just burden you," she added.

Eren leaned against the door frame. "You had a shitty night and so did I, least I can do is help you out. Of course no force," he said, shrugging.

She thought for a second. Maybe he was just trying to be nice? He didn't seem like a creep, considering he didn't seem dressed to impress anybody.

"Um sure I guess..." she replied, putting her phone away.

Eren was surprised at her answer. "I need to pee first if you don't mind," he said, smiling a bit.

She felt a small smile grow onto her lips as she moved outside the bathroom. "Take your time," she replied, leaning against the wall outside the bathroom.

Eren finished his business and exited the bathroom. He saw the girl standing outside, she seemed to be in deep thought.

"Let's go," Eren said, taking his keys out of his pocket and heading down the stairs.

The girl slowly followed behind him as he made his way outside, she felt the cooler air hit her skin causing her to shiver. She totally forgot how chilly the air was, rubbing her arms for warmth she stopped noticing the car he walked up to. He had a nice car, tinted windows, freshly clean, he seemed to know how take care of it.

"Hop in," he said, unlocking the passenger side door.

She got in and shut the door, feeling the cool leather of his seats go up against her skin. Making her shiver and goosebumps litter onto her skin.

Eren couldn't help but notice how nervous she seemed, he wasn't a creep. He didn't have bad intentions with her at all, she just seemed to be having a bad night, so he wanted to be of some help. Even if she didn't ever speak to him again.

"I know you're nervous and I know what you're thinking, but trust me I'm not going to do anything bad to you. I just wanted to be a cool person and help you out, since you were crying and you were by yourself." Eren said, breaking the silence between them.

She nodded, swallowing thickly. "I see.. what's your name?" she asked, nodding.

"Eren.. and you?" he asked, turning on the car to heat it up.

"(Y/N)," she replied, putting her seatbelt on as he began to drive his car away from the house.

Her name was pretty to Eren.

"Do you want to get some McDonald's? I don't know about you but food makes me feel better," he said, throwing a smile her way.

(Y/N) looked his way and smiled a bit. "Yeah.. sure, um I can pay for myself," she said, searching through her small purse she had with her.

Eren looked over. "Nah don't worry about it. I can pay for ya," he replied, turning into the McDonald's. "What do you want?" he asked, looking into her (e/c) eyes.

She pondered for a moment on what she wanted. "Chicken nuggets," she replied, giggling a bit.

Eren shot her a toothy smile. "Those are my favorite so I'm gonna get the same," he said, turning to the drive-thru.

He ordered their food and gave the bag to her as he drove to one of the empty parking spaces. She felt a bit more comfortable with him now, he seemed chill. She was starting to trust him, she felt relieved knowing he wasn't trying to do anything weird or dangerous.

Eren looked at her before putting the car in park. "Alright, let's get snacking." he said, removing his seatbelt.

(Y/N) gave the bag to him, moving her body so she was against the door. She removed her seatbelt and watched as Eren tossed her chicken nuggets. She put it on the armrest between them, and watched as he started eating.

"Thank you... for the food," she said, looking up at him.

Eren looked up and nodded. "Oh yeah, no problem! Party food was the worst, I drank too so I wanted something to eat." he replied, taking a sip of his drink.

(Y/N) started to eat her food and the two chatted about things. Getting to know each other, which made her feel a little more comfortable. They actually went to colleges that were close by, and they knew a few of the same people.

"Then this one time I almost poured the chemicals down the drain, and the teacher almost killed me!" Eren said, laughing at the memory. "I never saw a teacher more pissed off than ever," he added, rolling his eyes playfully.

She giggled a bit, looking down at her food. "Duh! That's like, one of the first things you learn in chemistry!" she replied, laughing even more.

He rolled his eyes once again, adjusting his bun. "So what? Sometimes you gotta live on the edge or whatever," he said, looking at the different cars driving past on the road. "Oh! By the way, what's your address? I'm sure you'll want to be home after this," he asked, taking his phone to open Maps.

(Y/N) looked over at him. "Oh! Um.. let me put it in," she replied, taking his phone from him. She felt a bit sad that it had to end, she kind of liked his vibe. He seemed chill and like a cool dude.

She handed his phone back to him after putting her address in. "Alright, you don't live too far. Let's get going," he said, putting his seatbelt on and starting the car.

"Wait!" she said, looking at him.

Eren stopped and furrowed his brows. "What's up? Did I do something?" he asked, nodding at her.

She looked away for a second. "Um.. Eren, do you have to drop me off right now?" she asked, avoiding his gaze.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. "I just figured you wanted to be home since it was late, why?" he asked.

(Y/N) sighed. "I just... um, would it be weird if we hung out a little longer? Of course we don't have to," she asked, nodding.

Eren smiled. "No that's not weird at all, just tell me where you wanna go," he said, looking at her.

She felt heat rush onto her cheeks seeing his smile, Eren was charming to (Y/N) and even though they just met, she enjoyed talking to him.

"Um.. just take me wherever! We can go anywhere," she replied, putting her seatbelt on.

Eren smirked. "Alright! I know where to go," he replied, putting the car in reverse and driving out of the parking lot.

-

The rest of the car ride was so much fun. Eren and (Y/N) jammed to music, cracked jokes, stopped for ice cream, and even told each other funny stories.

Eren pulled into this clearing on a hill, showing a view of the city and the highway. The lights in the distance gave a perfect view of everything. (Y/N) was surprised seeing such a pretty view, she never knew something like this ever existed. If she knew she'd come up here often, she was always a fan of views, and so was Eren.

"Let's go," Eren said, opening his car door and exiting his car.

(Y/N) followed and stood next to the hood of his car, which Eren was sitting on. She felt a bit awkward and shy in the moment.

"Oh.. my bad, my ass takes a lot of space. You don't have to sit," he said, giving a weak smile.

(Y/N) laughed a bit, climbing to sit next to him. She felt the metal on the back of her legs, causing her to shiver, as well as the cooler air that surrounded her.

"You cold?" Eren asked, looking at the way she was shivering.

She giggled a bit and nodded her head. "Y-Yeah.. my fault for wearing this," she replied, adjusting the skirt she was wearing.

Eren got off the hood of the car and went to the backseat, he grabbed a black cotton blanket he always kept back there. Sometimes before classes he would take a snooze in his car, and he used the blanket for warmth.

"Here.. I uh, take naps before class." he said, handing the blanket to (Y/N).

She reached for it, feeling his fingertips brush against hers, making small sparks come from his touch. His fingers felt.. warm. She wrapped the blanket around her frame, feeling the warmth surrounding her made her feel cozy.

"Thank you.. really, you didn't have to do this." she said, looking over at Eren.

He stared at the city lights. "It's no problem, you looked like you needed some cheering up anyway," he said, bumping his elbow into her arm.

(Y/N) looked into his green eyes which were twinkling in the light. "You never mentioned why your night was shitty," she said, nodding her head at him.

Eren felt the disappointment coming back to him about Mina. "O-Oh! Yeah, uh.. it's a lot really," he said, looking towards the girl. "I can tell you," he added.

She smiled. "I have time," she replied, adjusting herself a bit and wrapping the blanket around her a bit tighter.

Eren sighed, staring at the ground. "I got ditched tonight by a girl who I thought liked me. I was kind of stupid to ignore how she was acting, I guess in a way I should have taken the signs, but I liked her too much. She was supposed to join me tonight at the party but she never showed, so I guess that's the end of that," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

(Y/N) felt bad for him, nobody deserves to have that happen to them. Eren seemed like a nice guy to her as well, she couldn't exactly see why a girl would pass up on him.

"That's really mean... I couldn't imagine being ditched by a guy. I'd probably feel so embarrassed," she said, looking towards him. "How long have you guys been talking?" she asked.

"Three weeks? Almost maybe a month? I was planning on asking her out tonight too but I guess she had other plans," Eren replied, leaning on his elbows.

(Y/N) nodded, staring at the ground.

"Say... you never told me why you were crying, do you wanna talk about it? No force," he asked, leaning up to look at her face.

A frown formed onto her lips thinking about the events that occurred. "Yeah I feel like I need to vent," she replied, putting her knees to her chest.

Eren turned to face her. "Ready when you are," he said, giving her a reassuring smile.

Her smile grew as he looked at her. "Well um, my boyfriend- well now ex-boyfriend cheated on me a few weeks ago, he hooked up with someone I was close with. My friends brought me to that party to sort of 'let loose' in a way, then they ended up ditching me. I didn't know anybody there, so I just went to the bathroom and broke down." she explained, feeling a few tears well into her eyes.

Eren felt a tug at his heart hearing what she had to say. He couldn't imagine what she was going through right now, especially with her ex.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N), those people aren't your friends for sure. You should honestly stop talking to them," he said, crossing his arms.

She laughed a bit, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "It's just been hard you know? None of them seemed to care when he cheated on me, and they sort of just brushed my problems away." she said, shrugging her shoulders. "It sucks telling you this," she added.

Eren placed his hand on her wrist. "I get it, what you're going through is so difficult. Having people around who don't care are the worst and it sucks seeing you this way, you seem like a really cool girl! Well, from what I've seen anyway. That's besides the point, you're really cool and those people don't deserve you. Your ex is also an asshole too," he said, rolling his eyes.

She smiled a bit at his words. Nobody really said that kind of stuff to her before.

"Same goes to you, you seem like a nice guy, and whoever that girl was who ditched you, she's missing out." (Y/N) said, smiling at him.

Eren chuckled a bit. "I guess in a way we both had a shitty night, but it ended pretty great." he said, looking at the sky.

"Eren... thank you for everything. If you didn't find me in that bathroom I probably would be eating ice cream and sobbing to Twilight right now," she said, laughing a bit.

He smiled. "No problem (Y/N), if I didn't find you I'd probably be at home watching some stupid sports compilation," he said, laughing along with her.

(Y/N) leaned against the windshield. "Do you want to head back?" she asked, looking towards him.

He sat up, stretching a bit. "Yeah sure," he replied, standing up and heading towards the drivers seat of the car.

The two hopped in and drove back to (Y/N)'s apartment, the drive felt long, but their company kept each other in good moods.

Eren pulled into the parking area and looked towards (Y/N). "Tonight was fun," she said, smiling at him.

A smile grew onto his lips. "Yeah it was, you made tonight great." he replied, putting his car in park.

(Y/N) grabbed her stuff. "Well... thank you really, you made me feel a bit better. I appreciate you a ton," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Yeah, no problem at all," he replied, looking towards the front of the building.

He unlocked the car and watched her get out.

"Wait!" Eren said, stopping her in her tracks.

(Y/N) looked back at him. "What's up?" she asked, nodding a bit

Eren grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to her. "May I.. get your number?" he asked, smiling a bit at her as a blush formed onto his face.

She felt heat rush onto her cheeks, taking his phone in her hands. "Of course," she said, smiling as she entered her number into his phone. "Text me tonight, we should facetime." she added, handing his phone back to him.

Eren smiled, taking his phone back. "I'd love that," he replied, smiling again at her.

"See you then, and drive safe!" she said, closing his car door.

He watched as she entered her apartment building, Eren smiled to himself thinking about what happened tonight.

Who knew being ditched would lead to this?

[yourmcu]

102

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary:

Songfic based on ‘102′ by the 1975. Moments when Natasha’s really in love with you.

A/n: listen to that song here, it’s good

Word count: 2,442

Warnings: fluff. pining. angst. angst. one sided relationship. r’s an idiot

Well, we’re here We’re at the common again

To put it simply, Natasha’s in love with you. It’s been a while now and she’s positive about her feelings. She’s not even in denial of it.

Natasha loves everything about you especially those little things and how you can make her day a thousand times better just by being around. Only realizing it a few years after you became a full time Avenger, you’re still unaware even though you’ve got this wonderful friendship with her.

Friendship, she sighs. She thought she could do anything, unfortunately admitting her stupid feelings isn’t one of them. She’d be risking the friendship and bond you two have, or, you could admit that you felt the same and everyone’ll be happy.

However, the thing is, you don’t.

“I like the way that your face looks when I’m arguing with you”.

She finds you adorable even if it's just the dumbest thing ever.

"Nat!" You whine, flailing your hands at your sides like a child. "I called shotgun!"

"I got here first, didn't I?"

"Children, better hurry it up or we'll miss the premiere." Tony gets in the driver's seat.

Natasha sticks her tongue out and crosses her legs to get comfortable, teasing you. The way your eyebrows furrow and your lips turn into a pout, sometimes you'd flail your arms or cross them is so adorable to her.

"Nat," you drag out, crawling in to sit on her lap and attempt to push her out. You don't think of it much because you're frustrated. "Come on, Nat!"

"There's room for both of us here, this is fine." She smirks, wrapping her arms around your waist making you jolt. You're ticklish like that.

Natasha teasing you is the norm for the team so they barely react, so normal that Tony just goes ahead and drives while you're still on the redhead's lap.

"Stop! We're gonna get pulled over!"

"Eh, they owe us an unpayable debt, remember?"

Even if the matter's more serious, she couldn't help but feel soft for you. Every time.

Inside you were freaking out. It was when the Avengers were handed the Sokovia Accords. They were all your friends and to see them split in two sides was - crazy. You remained undecided, but you knew if you didn't sign you'd probably be behind bars.

Both sides made valid points. After Steve abruptly left you were with Natasha most of the time. She tried her best to persuade you that signing was the best option for the team.

"You know I'm not one with politics, I just don't trust them, Nat," you sigh, gently taking her hand to fiddle with. "But - but then again, we've done enough collateral damage through the years."

Natasha nods. "you know I'm with you no matter what happens, right?"

You nod as well and offer a thankful smile. She truly is your bestest friend.

"Just because it's the path of least resistance doesn't mean it's the wrong path," she continues. "Staying together is more important than how we stay together."

Her hand now intertwines with yours. But she gently removes hers, that's way too... weird. You can't just do that, Romanoff.

She mentally sighs in relief since it doesn’t look like you noticed. You remain silent, deep in thought, but you snap out of it when she gets up.

"I'm making a quick stop to London then I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. You're welcome to join me."

And so when, when we all grow old I hope this song will remind you that I’m not half as bad As what you’ve been told

Here we are, sort of like your origin story on how you met the Avengers.

Steve introduced you to the team when you've settled, healed, and able to control your pyrokinesis. You were thankful for them saving you from the HYDRA base because unlike the others, the experiments they ran on you were forced.

As Natasha first laid her eyes on you, that cliché moment in movies where in the character's surroundings seem to slow down and the only thing you're focused on is that one particular person-

She didn't believe in that shit. She would scoff and roll her eyes whenever she saw a scene like that.

But it happened to her. She hated it and would've accused you for taking her breath away.

"Yeah. Natasha Romanoff." She curtly extends a hand for you to shake and you smile at her, taking it.

And for a while she ignores you while simultaneously looking you up behind your back.

Why would someone like you, a genuine and beautiful ray of sunshine, want anything to do with someone like Natasha?

She's terrified of the thought of what your reaction would be if you realize what she'd done in the past. Ah, her past, something she isn’t proud of.

You finally confront her one day, hating how you seem to get a long with everyone just fine except her.

Your real reaction being, "we've all done something really bad that we regret. I mean, look at me, I was treated like a weapon for a quarter of my life and I can produce fire anytime, which I didn't ask for - sorry, I guess what I'm saying is, I don't think you're a bad person Natasha. You're here, aren't you? Saving people's lives? You're a better version of yourself, you're changing and if you ask me that's what really matters. Now, can we get some coffee?"

Natasha's been in love with you ever since.

And when I knock at a hundred and two, And I see your pajamas I can’t stop smiling at you

Natasha heard soft knocks outside her door one night. To be honest she'd be most likely to ignore the harsh and hard knocks, so she got up and made her way to open the door.

There you stood in your pajamas. You hate the matching ones, just like the pair you had on that night. But you also hate mismatching them. Natasha wouldn't admit to think that you look nice in them though. "Hi," you manage to say, avoiding looking her directly in the eyes since you already doubt she'd let you stay just this once. "I... uh, m'sorry for waking you up, Nat-"

While you find the words to say Natasha just observes - that's creepy - admires - she looks, she looks. You're clearly dying inside, probably regretting you knocked, the way you prefer looking at anything but her as you try and get words out, and how you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

"God, you know what? Never mind, I... I'm sorry for waking you up."

Before you could walk away Natasha opens her door wider, her face displaying full concern. "Hey, what happened?"

"It's nothing serious, I was just-"

"As your friend, I'm here for you no matter what," she wonders what'd it be like if it’s more than that. "Plus, I won't be able to go back to sleep either if you end up not telling me." She offers you a smile.

You sigh, looking her in the eye for the first time that night. "Had a nightmare. It was one of those kinds where I had no idea if I was gonna wake up from it - it was just - I feel like if I went back to sleep I'd see it again, you know?" You exhale, frowning.

She's glad you chose to show your vulnerable side to her, it just goes to show that you trust her that much, feeling like you could tell her anything.

You bite your lip, looking away. "I'm being such a baby about it, sorry-"

"Y/N," she states. "Stop apologizing and come here,"

Natasha motions you inside her room and almost immediately you latch yourself onto her, hugging her as you near the bed. It must've been bad, you seem shaken up about it.

You sigh in relief when Natasha pulls the covers over both of you, enveloping you into warmness.

Natasha lies beside you with her elbow propped up to look at you. "Do you... want to talk about it? Or I can put on a movie if you'd like."

You shake your head slightly, scooting near her. "I'm all good now."

Natasha's heart skips a beat, knowing that she's the one making you feel at ease, calm. She smiles and nods, turning to turn off the lamp.

Friends can cuddle, right? She wonders. She wants to wrap an arm around you more than anything but she feels that would be some sort of violation. So she hopes that the closeness of your bodies would be enough, for now. Hopefully.

I said “well I, I like the cut of your jib,”, “I like the way that your face looks when you're yapping on about him,”

Even though you were being affectionate with Natasha sometimes, you never returned her feelings.

Only a total asshole would hang around with someone often and do something that would cross that barrier, giving signs and subtle hints that you liked her, at least that’s what it looked like to Natasha but it ended up actually didn’t. Were you really the one to blame though? You have no idea Natasha likes you more than a friend.

Which lead you to making a very poor choice of opening up about someone you liked, to the one who liked you.

Natasha’s heart was racing when you mentioned you liked someone and planned to take them on a date, but you decided to go to her for advice first. 

It was a fifty-fifty chance for her, really.

“I mean, she is very mysterious,” you thought while running your thumb across your bottom lip. “Wanda.”

From there, Natasha just tried to ignore the sudden ache in her chest, pulling herself together in your presence. Of course it wasn’t her, you would never like someone like her. Plus, it was expected. You and Wanda shared a few more things in common than Natasha.

Noticing that the redhead hasn’t spoken a word, you continue. “I’d like to get to know her better but... you’ve known her longer than me, right, Nat? I want her to be comfortable if I ever get to go out with her.”

She tried to swallow the lump on her throat subtly, avoiding your eyes. She wanted nothing more than to walk away, out of anybody’s sight so no one could see her mercilessly destroy anything in her sight.

“You don’t need to,” she finally replies. “You could watch her favorite sitcoms together and you’ll win her over.”

“Sitcoms?”

“She likes them.”

You pout, pondering about the idea further while Natasha sighs to herself.

And after you excuse yourself to talk to the young witch, Natasha wastes no time to head to her floor to have some well deserved alone time to herself and mope, telling herself that she doesn’t and never will deserve someone like you.

But on this shirt I found your smell I just sat there for ages Contemplating what to do with myself

You and Natasha are both lucky to have each other on the team. The both of you are a match made in heaven on the battlefield, you have each other's backs.

"So... that went well," you state, referring to the mission, putting your hands on your hips as Natasha packs her stuff to get ready to leave for the next day. You bite the inside of your cheek, cursing yourself for packing lightly. "Can I borrow a shirt?"

Natasha just finished showering, now in the process of doing her usual routines before going to bed. She grabs a shirt from her closet and pulls it on.

She sighs exhaustedly, running her fingers through her hair. The fact that the shirt she put on was the same one you borrowed from her that day doesn’t click immediately.

But when it does,

"Fuck."

Natasha told herself to slowly move on because a more-than-friends relationship with you is not happening.

Well, not that she's ever told you directly that she's in love with you, but she can take a hint. You clearly aren’t interested.

And now she sits there alone with a shirt that fucking smells like you, her favorite person. At that moment she wants to just march over to your room and confess.

Trying to move on isn’t a good look on her, key word: trying to.

You’re something else. No one's made her feel this way before.

I called you up at a hundred and two, We just sat there for ages Talking about that boy who was getting on to you

You just might be the most oblivious idiot ever.

Because after your first, second date with Wanda you still failed to notice the changes in Natasha’s mood. You should know, you considered her your best friend, but being with Wanda became your priority ever since you pulled off impressing her on the first date.

Instead of letting you be, Natasha had to call you. At the time you were on your break, taking time off out of the compound. She just wanted some sort of closure at least, wasn’t even sure if that’s what to call it considering you both would still be friends, but she needed it.

“Hey, I won’t take up too much of your time,” she starts, but you immediately bombard her with what happened with your day with Wanda.

Natasha bites her lip as you do, every little thing you mentioned that she could only imagine doing with you sends her heart throbbing. But at the same time she’s happy for you. She simply loved seeing you happy. 

“I couldn’t have managed to do any of it let alone talk to Wanda without your help. Thanks, Nat,” she smiles sadly at your words, completely scrapping the thought of confessing her feelings to you. Maybe it didn’t matter anymore. “We should hang out when I get back. I miss you.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t, I... I’m being sent off for a mission soon,” she blinks back the tears and she could’ve sworn the ache she felt just got worse. Before she could utter another word, you sigh.

“Oh. I’ll see you when you get back, then?”

“I guess.”

When the call ends she goes to her messages to type out the things she’s been dying to say. She’ll be gone when you get back, she won’t have to face you once you’ve read it. After everything I still love you. It’s been too long, you deserve to know.

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 6

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Angst, morning wood

Length: 1.5k

Notes: Back at it with their bullshit!  Finished this and even though I’m not as ahead as I’d like to be with this fic I have a general idea where it’s going so I’m posting this before I feel like I should? Enjoy! Divider by @firefly-graphics 💛 Header by me 💋

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE

Sleep slowly faded away, like a heavy fog evaporating in the morning sun, and your consciousness was becoming aware of a few things all at once. You were unseasonably warm, you had a raging headache already, and you really needed to pee. The arm slung over your waist was doing nothing to ease the latter issue, but it was also the reason for your warmth. 

This was the first morning, since moving into the drafty old farmhouse, that you had woken perfectly cozy and warm. You could say it was due to the fact that you had passed out in your leggings and hoodie but you didn't even want to pretend it wasn't because of the living furnace currently snoring softly into the back of your neck.

Normally, as a morning person, you would jump out of bed and be putzing around the kitchen by now. However, you had no desire to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that waking up cradled in Frankie's arms had created. Morning light was already streaming through the edges of your curtains, casting your room with a warm glow. You watched dust motes dance in the air as you relaxed and matched your breathing with Frankie’s even as his mustache tickled your skin with each of his exhales.

Deciding to give yourself another ten minutes you carefully, as to not wake the grumpy farmer behind you, pulled up the blankets and wormed your body further backward so his curved fully around yours.

Frankie hummed in his sleep as his arm subconsciously tightened around your waist, his large hand spreading out so that his pinky was touching your hip bone and his thumb caressed just under your breast. His mind was still deep in slumber but his body was, er, waking up.

Visions of last night bombarded your mind as you laid there, body frozen and barely breathing to avoid waking Frankie. 

Opening up to Frankie, and he to you. Crying, him making you tea, you asking him to stay so you wouldn't be left alone with the ghost of Brad to haunt your dreams... Frankie had surprised you both, if the look on his face was anything to go by, when he had agreed. The initial awkwardness of laying in your bed together, fully dressed. He had eventually started telling you stories of his childhood friends and their adventures and his soft, raspy voice had lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

All of that, however, had been more intimate and exposing than you'd ever been with anyone. Having Frankie wake up, after all of that emotional intensity, to having his boner pressing into your ass? It would be too much, you didn’t want that level of awkwardness detracting from how each of you had let down your walls for each other.

Slowly, very slowly, you rolled to the edge of your bed and slithered to the floor, avoiding the creaky floorboards on your way to the bathroom.

As you stood at the sink, gazing at your reflection, you were pleasantly surprised by your complexion. No bags, no dark circles under your eyes, just a bit of smeared mascara that was quickly wiped away. Last night's slumber had done wonders for your body. Before this morning you hadn't realized how much tension you had been carrying, or how your poor nights had been weighing on your mental state.

One great night's sleep, the best night's sleep you'd had in a long, long time, had completely restored you. Just sharing a bed with another person, nevermind the fact that he was extremely sweet, thoughtful, and hot as hell, had given you the tranquility you were missing. You instantly craved more. 

It killed you to acknowledge it but a battered, bruised, yet healing part of yourself cried for independence. Reminding you how little of it you've had. It wanted you to be happiest on your own and not need someone else to feel comfortable and safe.

Hating to agree, you knew that bitch was right. For however nice that sleep had been, and however much you craved it again, you knew that you also needed to find happiness in yourself first. Brad had done so much damage, you needed to heal yourself and find yourself again before adding another person into the mix.

Taking a deep breath and coming to terms with your new resolve, you finished your morning routine before exiting the bathroom. Seeing that Frankie was still snoring away, you decided to run to town for coffee, thinking it would be a nice way to thank him for his kindness and company.

Writing a quick note and leaving it on the table, you stepped outside into the beautiful Autumn morning. Grabbing your bicycle you made the short trek to town, unable to wipe the smile from your face.

Town was busy for such an early house, and you were met with a line of customers in the bakery when you entered. The din of chatting friends nearly drowning out the bell chime above the door. Agnes, the owner ‘for over forty years!’ gave you a wave before giving her attention back to the tourist family at the counter. The smell of cinnamon, coffee, and yeast instantly enveloped you and your stomach growled making you want to order everything they had to offer behind the counter.

Knowing it would take a while before you could place your order, the owners of the place liked to stop and chat with customers, you meandered over to the community notice board that hung on the wall near the little bistro tables that graced the front window.

Amidst the notices for lost dogs, babysitting services, church service meetings, and town hall meetings was a poster for a fundraiser that caught your eye. The local youth group was organizing a county fair to raise money for a skateboard park to be built near the school. Visions of cotton candy, excited girls bursting with glee, and purses bursting with prizes flooded your mind. You had loved visiting the fair when you were younger, and decided that helping out would be a great way of experiencing that excitement again.

Grabbing a phone stub you called and signed up as a volunteer. The lady you spoke to was ecstatic and your offer to help and couldn’t wait to meet you. This was a great opportunity to meet more people in the community as well, you realized. You’d been so busy working at Morales Acres and then on your home, you hadn’t put very much effort into getting to know anyone else.

On the bike ride back home, you felt like you were walking on sunshine. Not only was your bike basket laden down with sweetbreads and a new French coffee press, which Agnes had sworn was foolproof, but you had also convinced Jacquie to volunteer for the fundraiser. It hadn't been hard as her eldest child, Cole, was very keen on becoming the next Tony Hawk.

Your future was looking so bright. There was guaranteed girl-time with your new best friend, meeting new people doing something that sounded super fun, and while you had decided to not dive into anything romantic with Frankie, you were looking forward to spending more time with the grumpy guy hiding a heart of pure gold.

Regardless of the crick in his neck, his belt digging into his hip, and his feet sweating from sleeping with socks on, Frankie woke with a smile. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so well. Despite the discomfort, he'd had a dreamless, deep slumber and woke fully rested.

He could try making excuses for it, blame it on the cider, the tiring workday, the spent emotions, but deep down he knew it was due to you. You, who had asked him to stay. You, who had given him so much comfort by just laying next to him. Not only that but he felt like you truly saw him when he spoke. He had opened up more in the last twenty-four hours than he had in the five years since he'd moved here.

He hadn't told you everything yet, the last time he'd done that he had scared away his wife and lost his daughter. He feared that he could lose you too if he told you about Columbia, Tom, the money, and how it had brought out the worst in him. 

Frankie had felt safe enough to share his struggles with cocaine, his failed marriage, and losing custody of Annie. You had only shown sadness and concern, there had never been pity or judgment in your gaze.

Coming out of his inner reflection, Frankie soon became aware of just how quiet your house was. He could tell you had left the bed a while ago, as the space you'd occupied had gone cold. There was no usual humming or singing, no footsteps or signs of life. Slightly mystified and erring on the side of caution, Frankie slipped silently out of bed and began sweeping your house room by room.

By the time he made his way into your kitchen, his heartbeat had gone from a panicked staccato to a slow beat heavy with dread. The truth slapping him in the face: you had left. You'd woken before him, slipped away without saying anything, and left your own house in order to avoid him. Frankie couldn't help but wonder if you regretted your plea for him to stay.

Had he taken advantage of your emotional state? Was staying the wrong thing to do? Even though nothing sexual had happened he still felt like he had done something wrong, and felt horrible for it. Had he talked in his sleep, or maybe lashed out from a dream he didn’t remember? 

Should he leave and give you the space you seemed to want? Should he stay and apologize? Glancing between the stairs that led to your bedroom and the front door, Frankie hesitated while weighing his options. With a sigh, he shook his head and made up his mind. Grabbing his coat from where it rested on the table, he told himself he was doing the right thing. You’d call when you were ready to see him again.

The lightness in your heart very abruptly turned to confusion when you arrived back home, just shy of an hour after you'd left. Frankie's truck was missing from your driveway.

Walking inside, you placed your breakfast and coffee on the table and had a quick look around for any signs of Frankie. When your search turned up nothing, not even a note back, you slumped down onto a dining room chair with a huff.

Had Frankie just got out of bed, grabbed his coat, and left? You tried to not read too much into it. Maybe he had run home for a shower? Or new clothes?

After finishing off your third cinnamon twist, you pushed the bag away from you in disgust with a little too much gusto and it thumped onto the floor. Heaving a dramatic sigh, you reached down to grab the muffins that had spilled out of the paper bag, and that's when you noticed the note that you had written to Frankie had fallen under the table.

Despite yourself, and what your therapist had cautioned you against, your mind automatically conjured up a scene. Frankie waking, glad that he was alone. Making his way downstairs, reading your peppy little note and throwing it away with a scoff. Leaving in a hurry, glad to be free of you and your issues.

Your heart sank, even while your brain fought against the imaginary scenario. Eventually, just barely, your head won. 

When he hadn't shown up after two hours you began to worry. The two extra-large coffees in your system, why let his go to waste? didn't help matters.

By dinner, you were miserably painting the guest bedroom, alone. You told yourself he just needed some space as he had opened up his heart to you in a way he probably hadn’t in a long time. You decided to wait for him to call you once he felt comfortable enough.

Part Seven

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[gaitwae]

"I would rather die a thousand times;" with loki please?

Warnings: argument, hurt/comfort, cringey crying, ambiguous ending.

Summary: You decided to ask Loki if the two of you could ever have a romantic relationship. Loki, who knows this question might be from some weird Midgardian infatuation instead, gets defensive.

Tags: @make-me-imagine @thorfanficwriter  @bwemph @myraiswack @rorybutnotgilmore @loki-snape-our-hero @wolfish-trickster @lucywrites02 @mostly-marvel-musings @winterfrostsarmy @superheroesandstardust @castiels-majestic-wings @geekns @lokis-high-priestess @natandersonnla @cozy-the-overlord @megthemewlingquim @frostedgiant @whatafuckingdumbass @thebookbakery @delightfulheartdream @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @the-emo-asgardian @amwolowicz

Happy ending! I’m sorry for the (mostly) angst!

+-+--

The sun sank low beneath the horizon long before Loki had said a word. You were biting at your nails silently. The god was yet to make his decision. Time dragged on and on, ticking along with the clock on the mantle. The sound it made was horrendous. The sound of silence would have been worse. You wanted an answer, but it would take years and years before the two of you could reach an agreement. 

You just wanted to know if there was a possibility.

“Loki?” you whispered. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer.

“Hmm?” Loki picked up his head and faced you. He had that sad look in his eyes, again, his fingers curling nervously. “Oh, yes,” he said quietly. “I was still thinking, Y/N, I apologize.” He pulled his hands over his knees, then back over his thighs. “You really think that he’s out there, don’t you?”

“Who?” you asked, knowing exactly what he was referring to. You didn’t want to give in to his let-down — not when you still had some shred of honor left. You found your feet very appealing, suddenly. 

“That man; the ‘One,’ you’ve called him.” Loki heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head. He wiped his face. Your heart plummeted. Dipped. Your belly was set ablaze and your eyes felt scratchy. You knew what was coming. “Listen, I don’t know if we’d ever be… together, but I would feel much better if I knew your ‘One’ was still searching for you, too.”

“Loki,” you pleaded, “that isn’t fair.” You swallowed the tears down — if you cried now, it would show how weak you were — how much you relied on him. He would be scared off, wouldn’t he? Would he lose respect for you? Would he despise you? What would be the outcome? What would happen? “That’s not fair at all…”

“No, it isn’t,” he conceded. He turned his head away from you. You knew he couldn’t handle your tears well. His voice raised slightly as he continued, “But asking such a fragile question isn’t fair to me, is it?”

You felt the tears slip down. You wiped them away quickly, trying to regain your composure. “Loki…”

“Is it?” he snapped, causing you to jump. “Did you have to ask now, Y/N? Did you have to let your emotions get the better of you when we’re trying to escape this blasted planet?” With each word, more rage slipped into his voice, his tone, his whole manner. He was furious with you. You had upset him.

“Loki, I —” 

“Asking me to be your partner is out of the question! I would be dead first, Y/N! The situation we’re in, the pressure we’re under, I would rather die a thousand times than put our lives at risk for your silly fantasy!” He threw his hands down. You didn’t remember them flying so high. “Dying like a hero is far better than dying to protect your flimsy, mortal heart.” His chest peaked, then fell harshly. “You change so frequently; I’m surprised you even figured out that you wanted me. Perhaps it’s the thrill of danger, yes? The possibility of becoming a legend? An idol? Or is that too much glory for you? Are you hoping for rescue? To be saved like you had been taught from so young?”

You couldn’t speak. You didn’t move. You didn’t know how; after all, you hadn’t really been on the receiving end of his scolding. Well, that wasn’t really scolding. That was just… degrading. He was insulting you, peeling away your confidence layer by layer with a steady glare. He was angry — no, he was embarrassed — at your query. If you knew he would react this way, you would have sewn your own lips shut. You thought you could trust him. You wanted to trust him. You wanted that more than anything.

“You’re being cruel,” you pushed out. “You have no idea what I want.”

“I know you’re a small, witless child,” he growled. Loki stood from his seat. You ducked your head and stared at your knuckles. He grabbed your chin, jerking your face up without hurting you. “You’re simply an… an insect in the grand scheme of things who imagines greatness for yourself. I’m something you haven’t attained, that you haven’t experienced. You don’t want me for who I am, but rather what. Y/N, you’re a dreamer. That is why you follow me. Yes?” The god’s eyes searched yours with a frantic need. You clenched your jaw, removing his hand from your face. 

You said nothing.

“Answer me,” he spat. He dropped his arms, spreading his legs apart in a warrior’s stance. He was battling this topic more than you had imagined. Unless you were seeing things, Loki’s blue eyes were shining. His lips were tight against each other. Why was he losing his temper so? “Answer!” 

You kept your eyes focused on his; you wouldn’t say anything, you couldn’t, your tongue wouldn’t let you. Your knees shook. Your hands tingled. Your cheekbones tingled, too. Your throat hurt. Your nose burned. The longer Loki saw your tears, the wetter his own orbs became. Your body hadn’t racked with sobs yet, but they were waiting to erupt any moment. 

“Why could you possibly want a relationship with me, Y/N? I’m not yours to study, to toy with. Greatness cannot be the basis of love.” He looked between you and the door. His escape was too far away. The confrontation was hurting far too much — it was evident, written all over his face. “You can’t love me. Why would you?”

“Because you’re a hero,” you whispered. Your eyes followed him, but your limbs disobeyed every order to stand, to turn away, and walk out the door. Your last chance to spare your own feelings was slipping through the door. “If you weren’t, I would have been gone long before asking the question.”

“So… it is greatness,” he said quietly. “You want the persona.” He sniffed sharply, settling back into his chair. He raked his hands through his hair, once, twice, three times. He couldn’t sit still, but you still couldn’t move. “Not… me.” He wiped under his eye with his thumb. Finally, you understood why Loki was so offended by your question.

After all, who could ever love a man if he was a concept? What woman was loved wholly when the world focused on her beauty?

Your own heart shattered as you watched his crumble. Before you understood what was happening, you stood and walked to the prince. The forgotten prince. The prodigal son who had been thrown away, cast aside, and crushed like a cigarette under a boot. Once a bright flame, but quickly reduced to dying embers. Oh, and you had the nerve to ask him if there was a possibility of having his heart… you were like a child asking to hold something frustratingly delicate. 

You held his head, petting his hair for him. Your lip wobbled, as did Loki’s. He shook his head with agony. He buried his face in your body, clinging onto your hips with arms wrapped tight. You kept running your fingers on his head, scratching his scalp, and playing with his hair. His arms shook against your person. He tugged you between his knees to grip you better.

“I love you,” your voice came, echoing the ringing thought in your nearly empty mind. “I would love you even if you weren’t a god; I would love you if you lived under a bridge and smoked gasoline.” You tried for some humor. Loki’s fingers dug into your shirt. “Your greatness comes from your heart, Loki. Isn’t that what matters? Your heart?”

His shoulders jerked forward, the pace faster and faster as a heart-wrenching noise escaped from him. You tightened your grip on him. His sobs kept coming, over and over and over. They weren’t loud —  they sounded more like whimpers than anything else. It didn’t mean that the sound wasn’t enough to tear someone’s soul in half. It was tearing your soul in half. Seeing him like this… you didn’t know what to do other than to be his anchor. This was so unlike Loki; at the same time, this was Loki. 

This was every piece of hurt he had been holding onto for who knows how long. You had just found the weak spot in his armor. Loki loved you deeply and you could care less if it was platonic or romantic. Your stupid selfishness had caused a breakdown… 

Yet, it was healthy. He needed this. He needed this. 

You didn’t need an answer tonight. You didn’t need an answer for a while. 

This was more important. You’d rather die a thousand times than walk out on him in a moment of need.

The clock passed midnight long before Loki calmed. By the time he had stopped making that tear-jerking sound, the clock was seconds away from chiming. When he stopped shaking, it was almost one o’clock in the morning. You had moved to sit next to him then. Loki rested his head on your chest and shoulder. The only words spoken were your affirmations and your coos. For the Norns’ sakes, the crying was awkward; just by the way he stared off into space, you could tell he wouldn’t want to talk about this.

Ever.

“I’m sorry,” he said once it was over. “That wasn’t very… very heroic of me, was it? He laughed sourly. You continued to stroke his hair. “I wail like an infant and you’re still here…”

“I thought it was very brave,” you said honestly. “Breaking down in front of someone who might not truly love you? I’d just run away and hide.”

“You’re pushing it,” he mumbled, deadpan. “If this was me years ago, I don’t suppose I would have even let you see me like that. I would rather be dead, first.”

“I’m glad we solved something, tonight,” you told the giant in your arms. “But next time, I think we should talk about it slowly.”

“Agreed.” Loki closed his eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Oh, you’re excused,” you yawned. The clock ticked quietly. It was like a lure to sleep. You felt safe, squished in this seat with Loki. 

If someone wanted to take you from Loki, you’d have to be dead first.

[morizoras-cave]

Sleepyhead (Request)

MCU cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Request Description: Hiya♥️could i please request a teen x marvel cast were they always find her sleeping and taking naps everywhere around set and they confront her about it and she says something about having to take care of her little siblings because her parents are never arohnd do she gets no sleep. Sorry if its to long.❤❤❤❤❤😍🥰

Warnings: irresponsible parents, negligence, slight insecurity, stress

(A/N): sorry this is kind of centered around benedict, i find these mcu cast x reader ones difficult. also im watching a belarusian war-movie from 1985 about the holocaust. its absolutely terrifying (im very serious, i’d be cautious for trigger warnings). if you’re looking for a horror movie or something, search “come and see movie” on youtube and you’ll find the entire thing there (:

At first, it had been sweet. A testament to the insomniatic youth, if you will. In every closet, behind every door, and on every soft surface, you could be found in between takes, snoring away.

They all agreed you were probably watching movies or playing games up late at night, computer screen illuminating your face. Or maybe you were chatting with your faraway friends. Either way, it was almost endearing to find you drooling on the couches scattered around the set.

Sweet and endearing at first, yes. But then the feelings about it, the longer it went on, the more your mature and well behaved personality clashed with the idea of you staying up all night, the more the feelings about your frequent naps changed.

To the set workers, the coordinators and overseers of the countless tasks on set, it became an issue. 

“Where’s Y/n? We need them for the next scene!” 

More often than not, several people would be running around set in search of you. And of course you apologized profusely when they found and woke you, but it didn’t matter when you never changed.

But to your coworkers, the talented actors and actresses on set of this huge movie production, it was concerning. Because you were their friend, undoubtedly. 

When you would be pulled out a distant break room, rubbing your dark and drowsy eyes, mumblings would start among them. 

“Are they okay?” 

“They just seem so sensible, I don’t understand why they would stay up like that.” 

And then there was you. Young and unfortunate you. Just trying to do your best, trying to please everyone. It was impossible for anyone to know how much you were juggling with. 

You felt like a bird with a broken wing, still flying but bound to fall to its death. You knew it was too much. You knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. 

Most teens felt stressed with just schoolwork, and then there was you. Battling long set days and huge mounts of schoolwork. And then the family.

Your parents that never seemed to be around. They were both working all the time and often left you and your siblings to yourselves. The problems with that was that you were the eldest, and your siblings were too young to take care of themselves. You were the one left to bring home groceries, to make dinner, to bring them to bed, and to help them with any of their schoolwork or difficulties. 

And it was too much. Simply put it was too much for you. You had managed back when you were just another teen at school, but now you were in a movie, you had a JOB.

Usually you’d go to set and work your ass off, get home and help the kids all day, and then do your schoolwork in the night. You almost never got more than an hour or two of sleep, which was why you settled for small naps during your filming sessions. 

You were so stressed, and you wanted to be angry, because in truth you had every right to. But you were too tired and too busy to be angry. Too focused on your siblings and doing good as an actor. But you would never want to involve your coworkers. You thought it would be embarrassing and unprofessional to involve them. So you carried the weight all alone.

“Wake up! Wake up!” 

Someone was shaking you awake. You blinked your eyes open. A redhead set assistant was yelling in your face, grasping your shoulders. 

She stopped when she saw your eyes turning to slits, before widening to look at her. 

“Am I on?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. The lady scoffed.

“Are you on? Yeah, you’re on,” she spat and swung around, heels clicking on the floor, as she exited the break room briskly.

You were ashamed. Of course you were. You were so unprofessional and problematic. But you knew you had no other time to sleep, so this was your only option. The thought made you want to cry. 

Instead, you stood up and walked to where the scene would be filmed, through several hallways and technical rooms, before you arrived to the large set. 

Benedict, Robert, Tom (Holland), Chris (Pratt), Pom, and Dave were all gathered and ready to film. Your face was on fire, so you avoided their gazes, and just got into position to film the next scene. 

Benedict and Robert exchanged glances as you yawned, but before they could talk to you (as it seemed everyone was getting fed up with your constant sleepiness) the director yelled “action”, and the acting resumed. 

You all did the scene and you, surprisingly, did okay for having woken up about five minutes earlier. You continued doing several scenes for the movie all together, going through about three full scenes.

When the director was satisfied, everyone started scattering. You, rubbing your tired eyes, was already beelining for the break room, hoping to see an empty couch for you to crash.

However, before you could sneak off to catch some z’s, you felt a firm hand on your shoulder. You blinked, turning around and gazing at the person who had grabbed your shoulder. It was Benedict, Robert, Tom and Chris not fat behind him. He had a stern look on his face. 

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” your tone was casual, or perhaps too exhausted to express any real emotion, but inside you felt your stomach churn with anxiety. 

“Why are you always sleeping?” Robert chimed in. 

“Yeah, because if you’re up watching Youtube or whatever, you probably shouldn’t!” Tom said.

“Not that we’re assuming that that’s what you’re doing! It’s just- You know..,” Chris explained, voice full of panic.

You smiled softly. You recognized that they were coming from a place of worry. Then, your heart sunk slightly. You could cry. Again. Over the thought of your lack of time and your endless responsibilities. 

“It’s nothing serious, it’s just..” you trailed off, trying to figure out how you could make it sound less sad. Things always sounded worse when spoken out loud, you found. “I have two siblings, and my parents are never around, so I’m kind of the person taking care of them.” 

Your coworkers in front of you fell silent. You could see it on their faces. They didn’t like it. 

“You?” Robert said finally, and you just nodded. 

“So, you’re doing a movie, doing school, and taking care of your siblings at the same time?” Benedict repeated slowly, and once again you just nodded. There was nothing more to say. 

“Why aren’t your parents there?” Chris asked in his serious-unserious voice. 

“They’re working a lot,” you mumbled, disliking the collective attention on you. The thought of the couch made you yearn for some rest. You could tell that there were many things they wanted to do in that moment. They wanted to fix it all. 

“Can’t you tell them you don’t have time?” 

“I’ve tried that already. They say they don’t have a choice,” to this, both Robert and Benedict scoffed and shook their heads. You just watched with heavy eyes. 

“Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Benedict said quietly, eyes boring into yours, “I’m going to call a nanny to look after your siblings for a couple of days, don’t worry I’ll pay. You’re going to back to the hotel and sleep for at least 10 hours. When you’ve done that, and only when you’ve done that, will we talk about how we’ll move forward with your parents.” 

You were quiet. You couldn’t stand up to your parents like Benedict wanted you to. You just couldn’t. They were busy and that was understandable. 

Although, you had to admit, the thought of sleeping for 10 hours was enticing. Heck, worst case scenario, you could settle for 5! Your tiredness was like heavy cuffs and chains on your body, and Benedict stood with the shining, golden key right in front of you. 

“Benedict, I- I can’t do that to my parents-”

“No, your parents can’t do this to you! This is absolutely outrageous!” He was frustrated you could tell. Robert seemed upset too, while Tom and Chris stepped back and let the adults handle it. Though, they seemed sad for you. 

You went quiet. 

“I just-” 

“I don’t want to hear another word about how they’re somehow excused for their behavior. This is negligence, Y/n! This is too much for you and you know it! You’re exhausted and it’s so painful to see, so please. Just take me up on this.”

You sighed.

“Alright, then.” you said, body finally giving in to the attractive offer. Benedict’s face carried the ghost of a satisfied smile, before going back to the stone cold determination. 

You drove to the hotel in Robert’s car and they booked you an extra room, knowing that your siblings occupied the other one. As soon as you could fall back on the bed, you were gone, body screaming for rest. 

You woke up 14 hours later, feeling happier, brighter and well-rested. That feeling had been forgotten by you, but it was alright, you decided. Every inch of you blossomed with energy now. 

As promised, Benedict had ordered a nanny for your siblings (the nanny was a lovely human being, and simply amazing with kids). Benedict, Robert, Chris and Tom has split the bill. 

You called him when you woke up, and he dragged you to a restaurant, where the two of you had a long, long talk about why what your parents were doing was serious and unacceptable. He could tell he needed to explain it to you, because you, like many children, were ready to defend your parents’ at all costs. 

Needless to say, after Benedict’s advice you didn’t have to go through that kind of thing again. You settled it with your parents (as well as your siblings), and after that you were so grateful that Benedict helped you out of that responsibility, because it wasn’t yours to have. 

Benedict was just happy to help, the memory of seeing you sleep everywhere, now less endearing and simply painful. He didn’t like thinking about it, and so he tried not to, but rather focused on your laughter and bright smile. In truth, that’s the only thing that really mattered. 

___________________________

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